Three Families

by James Golen

Three Families seek the Avatar. Three Families find the Avatar. Three Families use the Avatar. The story of how three sets of siblings are changed by the Avatar, amidst an endless war. AU, Want of A Nail.

4. The Broken Fan

New chapter. Running out of summer. Bugger. Ah, well, at least the new series of Doctor Who is coming soon.
Q&A: Azula always has the accent, it's just the intensity which varies. Good spot on the Spirit World observation. (Much) More on that later. You'll see why each sibling got banished in due time. Azula didn't try to bump off Zhao because she was dead on her feet. Azula's relationship with her brother is... healthier than it was in Canon. She's just prickly. Oh, and one more thing:

Vindictive Zuko can be vindictive.

---

Azula didn't enjoy drawing, painting, composing poetry. The acts did not appease some deep and peaceful part of her soul which she would loathe to express to others. They did not satiate some deep-seated need for expression that her life otherwise stifled. They did not give an outlet for a creative soul. No, she painted, she drew, she wrote, because she had to. It brought her no comfort, no joy; only a release of that pressure which built up inside her head. A thousand images, some crude and incomplete, even before she bothered to set them to page. Others, works of art worth being hung in the halls of the Fire Palace. A few of hers probably still were.

She wasn't even sure what it was she was drawing right now. The scene was dark, lit only by some source of low, red light, showing two women fighting. Waterbenders, most likely from the abundance of blue in the picture. Why she, a firebender, would even subconsciously want to depict this scene, confounded her to no small part. Waterbenders didn't have anything worth portraying or talking about. They were barely-literate savages who lived in perpetual cold and dark, outside even the fringes of polite society. And yet, here she was, showing the woman in black and gold fight the woman in blue.

"I should just burn this like all the others," Azula said to herself. It was an idle threat. The one time that anybody actually went through with destroying one of her works, she ended up exactly replicating it a few weeks later. When that one got burnt, half-way done, she found herself redoing it from scratch the next morning, without a single detail altered from any iteration to the next. If there was any fortune to her craft, it was that once an idea had found its way into the world, it was not retread. Every picture, every line of poetry was unique, even if she didn't know what it meant. She slumped a bit, her posture less that of a girl approaching fifteen years, but rather that of a woman four times her age.

Azula let out a weary sigh, twisting her neck until it emitted an audible crack, which sent a surge of relief to her headache racing up her spine and into the backs of her eyes. Every time she did that around her brother, Zuko would squirm, complaining that one day she'd do that, and her head would fall off. It amused her to unsettle him. She rose, forcing a small flare of golden fire into her palm. "This isn't the way it's supposed to be," she muttered to herself. "I'm supposed to be the Crown Princess. Not some vagabond living on a boat with my brother and our doddering uncle!"

But that was exactly what she was. She let out a sigh, and when she did, the flame started to gutter in her hand. She forced more energy into it. Firebending had once been so easy for her. It came to her more naturally than breathing. It wasn't that she bent fire. It was that she was fire. But then, the illness. Then, the hardships. Then the art and the confusion, and her grasp on the element which defined her existence, thoughts, and soul moved further and further out of her reach. At least, it hadn't left her completely. She didn't want to think about what would happen to her if it did.

Azula didn't want to lose her fire.

As she pondered that, staring into the fire, a darkness started to lower over her. Usually, it brought confusion, a state of loss-of-self. She would forget who people were, where she was. What she was doing. She would stop being herself, and become something... useless. Even as it pressed in on her, tears were forming in her eyes. She refused. She fought it as hard and as long as she could, but it was like gravity, or tide, or death. It would not be denied forever. One, solitary sob sounded from her throat, and then the darkness swept over her.

But when she opened her golden eyes again, it was not to confusion. It was to rock-solid certainty. The fire flared up in her hand, brighter than it had been, more solid and sure, but she wasn't paying attention to it. She was just using it. Her eyes raced across the layers of her own works which adorned every free surface in the room, until they fell upon a landscape that she'd drawn when she first came onto this boat. Mountains plunging down into the sea, and the hints of a village nestled into the hills. She tugged it down, a smirk coming to her face. This was it. This was what she was looking for.

She threw open her door, and took the single step across the hall to where Zuzu's door lay, and pounded on it with her fist, until she got impatient and kicked it. After that kick, which hurt her foot – though she refused to show that it had – the door pulled in, and a bleary eyed, bare chested older brother looked out. "Azula? What's wrong?" he asked, real concern in his voice. She disregarded it.

"I know where the Avatar is going," Azula said. She held up the picture. "Here. To this island."

"Didn't you draw that back..."

"Just listen to me!" Azula snapped. "The Avatar is heading here. We can catch him if we change course immediately. I will not lose the Avatar again! Not after the humiliating loss at the South Pole."

Zuko sighed, then closed his door. Azula's eyes widened with wrath. "What is the meaning of this?" she bellowed.

"I'm getting pants on," Zuko shouted back through the bulkhead. A grimacing scowl pulled at Azula's lips.

"Where we're going, you don't need pants! Now just wake Jee and set the course," Azula ordered. "I have a date with destiny, and I have no intention of missing it."

---

Chapter 4

The Broken Fan

---

"You know," Sokka mushed around a mouthful of fish, "compared to the last two places, this one ain't half bad."

Katara couldn't help but agree with her older brother. "I know what you mean. It's nice to see Aang finally get his mind off this Avatar stuff and have some fun for a change," she said, as a fish roughly five times the size of Appa crested the surface, the almost imperceptible speck of the airbender holding its fin.

"Nah, that's not it. I'm referring to the fact that pretty much everything here's edible," Sokka said.

"Really? That's your criterion for a good landing place?" she asked, a sarcastic undertone to her voice. "I suppose the time you ate the poison berries was all the reason needed to hate that island to the south."

"Look, I've got a system. If its juices don't give me a rash, I eat it," Sokka said evenly. "It's served me pretty well so far."

"You're like a child."

"A child who lets you know you can eat things," Sokka said. Then he scowled. "Wait a minute..."

"Sure. That's exactly what you are," she said, patting his cheek patronizingly, as she waved to the airbender atop the monumental fish. Even at the great distance, she could hear him laughing. Good. If anybody needed to laugh, it was Aang.

"You know, you could have cooked this a bit better," Sokka complained idly, as he nevertheless dug into the cooked fish with a gusto usually reserved for people who dying of starvation. Not that she could complain. The recent, and massive, increase in what she could eat was actually putting weight back onto her, and not having to go to sleep feeling like her stomach was trying to burrow through her spine made it easier for her to get her rest. All in all, despite the worry in the back of her mind that she might never get to go home, she felt better than she had in years.

She heard a chirping and felt a weight settle onto her shoulder. "Oh, there you are, lemur-thing," she said softly, patting it on the head. It let out a squawk and wrapped its tail 'round her neck. "One of these days, we're going to have to come up with an name for you."

The lemur chattered in its oddly cognizant way before settling down to rest its chin on her head. The sight must have been amusing, because Sokka started laughing at it. "She might not be able to cook, but she's a good sofa for a lemur," Sokka said.

"And why exactly is it my job to cook? I caught the fish."

"What? Women cook, that's just the way things go," Sokka said. "It's the natural order: Men hunt and protect the town and the defenseless, and women do the cooking and cleaning and whatnot."

Katara glared at him. "Well, if I'm doing such a terrible job at cooking, maybe you want to do it yourself from now on."

"Whoa whoa whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves here," Sokka said, with a placating motion. "I'm just saying that the world works this way, and there's not really much point in fighting it. It's much easier to just do what you're good at, and let men do the important stuff."

"Important?" she asked, her voice taking on a razor edge. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be wallowing in your own filth! Your pants would be tatters! You wouldn't even be eating right now! What have you done that's more important than keeping the clothes on our backs and food in our stomachs, Sokka? What is so important that it's been keeping you distracted from that?"

"I don't know, keeping the Fire Nation from finding the Avatar?" Sokka hazarded.

"Please, Aang was the one keeping them behind. You just sat in the howdah being paranoid!"

Sokka's eyes widened, and he pointed behind her. "Katara..."

"No, I'm sick of this. I thought you'd left this stupidity behind when we got exiled, but no, it just comes shining through every time you open your mouth!"

"KATARA!" Sokka shouted, reaching for his boomerang. Katara turned, and when she saw what he was indicating, she felt a real need for panic. That need for panic massively dwarfed the fish in the bay, its body a great grey serpent which shone wet in the sun. Its maw was filled with teeth each three times the height of a man, sharp as blades. Two great whiskers extended from the great eel's face. Dangling precariously from one of them was that barely visible speck which was Aang, clinging for dear life to the monstrosity from the deep.

"Aang! Get to the shore!" she screamed over the water. The great beast flailed and thrashed, trying to dislodge the airbender from its face, but having remarkably little success. Finally, it bent up on itself and blasted out a jet of water which smashed Aang off of its whisker, and sent him skittering across the top of the surf like a flat stone across smooth a pond. So much velocity was had by this, that his last skip was right at the crashing of the water against the shore, and his momentum carried him directly into her brother, sending both into the side of a snow-covered tree.

Aang, who stared up at her inverted, his legs dangling over his head, still had an unsteady grin on his face. "Katara?" he asked.

"What is it, Aang?"

"Whatever that thing is, don't ride it. Not as much fun as the Elephant Koi."

"What was that thing?" Sokka asked, pushing himself up and brushing the fallen snow off of his head and shoulders.

"I'm not sure," Aang said quickly pulling his kavi back on. "It wasn't here last time I came to this island."

"Wasn't that a hundred years ago?" Katara asked. "A lot can happen in that much time."

"Yeah, but I think even he would have remembered if somebody said 'oh, and there's a big sea monster out here somewhere' to him," Sokka pointed out. "Let's just keep going before something else unpleasant happens to us. Don't you want to reach the North Pole before next spring?"

She sighed. "Sokka's right. We should keep moving."

"No complaints here. I'll just go call Appa," Aang said. She nodded to herself, but then had a thought.

"Aang, what ab..." she said, trailing off when there was no sign of the Avatar. She heard Sokka mutter something behind her. "Sokka, did you see where Aang went?"

She turned just in time to see something green drop onto her brother, and a moment later, her hood was yanked down over her head, along with a great expanse of her parka, and she was brusquely flipped to the floor. She could feel furious action about her hands and feet and face, and then, the unmistakable feel of rope being pulled tight. When she finally got the coat away, she noted she still couldn't see. There was a silk binding blocking her vision.

"Nothing else unpleasant, eh?" Katara asked wanly.

"I was just... shut up."

"We... ah... come in peace?" Aang offered from somewhere out of sight.

"You three have some explaining to do," a whispered voice reached Katara, and then, they were being lifted, and dragged along the sand. Struggle as she might, she couldn't slip the bonds nor get away from their assailants. They were being brought, whether they wanted it or not.

Of course, that didn't stop her from fighting the entire way.

---

Iroh sat with his back to the tower which was the cabins of his his ship. He let out a tired sigh, one of several he sometimes released throughout the day. Sometimes, they had a cause, sometimes they just were. He was amazed how much it still hurt that Qiao was gone. She had been a part of his life so long, that Iroh wasn't exactly who he was now that she was gone. Inside his mind, he always wondered, what if he had asked her to stay home, in the Fire Nation. Would she still be alive?

"Again," Iroh said out of rote, his tones disinterested and distracted.

He looked up, and saw the three firebenders arranged around his niece, all preparing to advance as one. The first grunt of angry effort came from Azula's back, and she twisted up with a sweeping kick which surged with fire, smashing the attack, and the attacker, away and almost over the rail. She then bounded, sweeping out a knife-hand blade of fire which the other two had to hurl themselves aside to avoid. She landed with a twist on her nimble feet, and glanced at her fallen adversaries.

"Wrong," Iroh said.

"Wrong? How is it wrong? It worked!" Azula said.

"It was not what I am trying to teach you. Therefore, it is wrong," Iroh said. Qiao had been a calming presence to him. Now that she wasn't here, all of the hurts were raw, all of the angers surged. All of the disappointments grated. And all of the annoyances danced on his nerves. "Firebending requires a solid root, a connection for stability and balance. You have some flashy moves, but in a real fight, flash will fail you."

"It worked against Zhao," Azula pointed out.

"Zhao drastically underestimated you. He will not do so again," Iroh answered. "Your attacks cover broad areas, but are flimsy. Anybody standing their ground can easily punch through them," Iroh turned, seeing Zuko approach with a bowl in his hand. "Zuko, show your sister how the set is done. Now!"

The men instantly turned from Azula to Zuko, and launched into attack. Zuko, with barely a glance and not so much as a batted eyelash, twisted, letting the flare shoot past him, before kicking out with a blast of fire and an grunt of effort, before twisting and kicking himself up into the air and smashing down the other two with a pair of discrete fireballs. He then swung his arm around, preventing the contents of the bowl from falling onto the deck. When he rose to his full height again, he had a fairly bored look on his face. "Basics, again?" Zuko asked.

"The basics are important, Nephew," Iroh said. "They instill reflexes, which can save us when the mind is too busy to think. Zuko's way is focused, powerful, and surgical. Yours is sloppy. You will set alight anything nearby."

"You might not have noticed this, Uncle," Azula said darkly, scowling from the word 'sloppy' onward, "but the Avatar is an airbender, with none of the training he needs in the other elements. The primary edict of airbending is avoid and evade. He will not stand his ground. It isn't in his nature. He will move and flee, and my fire will find him."

"And as for collateral damage?" Iroh asked, accepting the offered bowl.

"Irrelevant, as long as I can procure the Avatar," Azula said.

"That is dangerous thinking," Iroh said harshly. "Much of the reason the Fire Nation is where it is right now is because of such beliefs. I can see why my brother named you after our father. You are more alike than I had hoped."

"Don't insult Grandfather," Azula said.

"My father was a bloody minded man who turned an expansion into a world-war," Iroh pointed out. He tilted his head to a side. "Still, you're a lot better than I thought you'd be. Especially considering you haven't drilled in more than three years."

"I was lax and lazy. It's not a mistake I'm going to make again," she said. She glared to the three firebenders who were just picking themselves up from where Zuko had put them. "Well? Don't just lay there like a bunch of earthbenders; back to work!"

"Basics," Iroh cautioned.

"The Avatar isn't going to care if I know the basic forms, Uncle," Azula snapped. "He will use everything in his power to destroy me, and your precious Zuko, and this ship, and the Fire Nation itself. It is our duty as Fire Nation royalty to see that he is put down quickly and decisively. And to do that, I will need the higher forms. You will show them to me."

"Azula, don't talk to Uncle that way," Zuko said, his eyes flitting between sibling and uncle. "If it wasn't for..."

"I would have found a way," Azula said. She glared at Iroh. For a moment, Iroh could sense an enmity in those golden eyes of hers, something beyond mere frustration. A bloody-handed hatred that lurked in the very backs of her eyes. He saw it, and he didn't know what it meant. And that concerned him greatly. Iroh was not a man who liked being in ignorance of anything, not when it was as important as his own family.

"Even if you did, that's not something worth worrying about," Zuko said firmly, playing peace-keeper once again. It was not a role Zuko was well suited to, with his own fiery temper and short fuse, but one he often took. That was partly Iroh's fault. His own temper was frayed as well. It had been for quite a while, now. He took a calming breath, which to his great benefit pulled in the smell of the roast duck in the bowl. "Uncle, maybe you should show her the next set. See how she does with it."

"Maybe you're right, Prince Zuko," Iroh said, a smile appearing on his face. "After I eat this roast duck."

As Iroh settled to merrily consume the dinner, Zuko gave his sister a baffled shrug, and Azula turned away with a golden flare of anger.

---

The muffled sounds coming from his left didn't abate as Sokka felt himself being lashed to a large, cylindrical object. Most likely a pole. "Why don't you take this blindfold of me and fight me like a real man?" Sokka snapped, straining pointlessly against his bonds. There were things which Sokka knew well, and knotwork was one of them. It would take a badgermole to pop these ropes, or a putrifying eel-hound to slip them. Since Sokka was a man and not either of those two things, he would remain bound.

"Fighting like a man is what got you into this mess," Aang oh-so-unhelpfully pointed out.

"Show yourselves, you cowards!" Sokka ordered. He heard a sigh, and then the bag which had been cinched over his head was indelicately removed. He blinked at the sudden light, which baffled his vision. When it cleared, he was no less baffled. The only people nearby were four women, three of them in a bizarre outfit. The last was older, her auburn hair greying, and wore more traditional attire. He looked across those gathered. "Alright, now where are the men who attacked us?"

"Men?" one of the odd looking ones asked. "We were the ones who arrested you. Now, tell us what you are doing on this island."

"Are you joking?" Sokka asked. "There's no way that we got beaten by a bunch of girls."

"A bunch of girls?" she answered, outrage plain in her voice. "Let's see how glib you are in the Unagi's maw, you..."

"Suki, please," the older woman chastised. "I hope you will forgive my daughter. She takes her duties very seriously. Considering the peril we live under, it's understandable."

"Mother, I..."

"Nevertheless, I recommend you speak with greater respect, Tribesman," the matriarch cautioned. "I do expect you to answer her questions."

"I'm sorry, it's my fault," Aang said shame-facedly. "I wanted to ride the elephant koi and, well, things kinda got out of control. Isn't that right, Katara? Katara?" Sokka turned, and saw that his sister was staring daggers at the girls in the weird dresses. It was easy to see why, though. Of all three of them, only she had been gagged.

"What?" Suki's companion asked to his querulous glance. "She bit me."

"That's my sister," Sokka muttered with a note of pride.

"How do we know you three aren't Fire Nation spies?" Suki asked.

"Suki, that's preposterous," her mother answered. "The Fire Nation does many things, but it does not use children as spies. Especially not Water Tribe children. However, they could bring trouble in their wake. Our involvement in the World War has been secret thus far, and the safety of all of Kyoshi Island hinges on that."

"Kyoshi Island?" Aang asked, perking up. "Is that named after the Avatar? Avatar Kyoshi?"

"Of course," the matriarch said, pointing up above their heads. Sokka craned his neck around, and could just barely make out a female statue bearing a pair of fans. "All of us carry some measure of her blood in our veins. Some more than others."

"Well, that's handy, because Aang here used to be Kyoshi," Sokka blurted out. All four women slowly turned to him and stared at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What."

"Aang is the Avatar," Sokka quickly improvised. "So you can't hurt him, because doing that would be the same as hurting the namesake for your Island. And I know you're not going to do that."

"The last Avatar was a firebender who died more than a century ago. When the Air Nomads were wiped out, the cycle was broken. The Avatar is gone, and only pretenders for that title ever appear these days. You speak a brave blasphemy, Tribesman," the matriarch said.

"Well, that's where you're wrong, missy," Sokka was on a roll, now. "Because Aang's an airbender, and the Avatar," he looked over to Aang. "Come on, do some airbending!"

"Oh, right!" Aang said, and then he blew straight down with such force that he snapped himself free of the ropes and catapulted some thirty feet into the air, before drifting gently back down like a leaf on the wind. With the bonds loosened, Sokka was able to shrug his way out. Katara was next, pulling her gag out and letting fly a string of profanity which would make a hunter proud, some of which even enlightened Sokka. When she finally calmed down a bit, she could see that the four women were staring in awe.

Well, three were. The older woman just cocked an eyebrow.

"So you are an airbender," she said. "That doesn't make you the Avatar. Earthbend."

"Yeah... I don't know how to do that," Aang said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Then waterbend."

"I haven't learned that, either," he admitted. "I just learned that I was the Avatar about a week ago. Nobody ever told me. Maybe in a place like this, I might be able to figure out what I'm supposed to do with all my... Avatar-i-ness."

"You claim to be Avatar and then in the same breath state you are limited to airbending," the matriarch summarized. "You have got to be the saddest Avatar I have ever heard of."

"Leave Aang alone," Katara cut in, taking Aang's hand. "He's afraid and confused. How would you feel if you had to find out on your own that you were the Avatar? He needs our help, not to be picked on."

"The girl has a point, Elder Ohka," the bitten warrioress commented.

"Quiet, Zhen," Suki snapped. She turned back to Aang, all business once again. "Very well. If you are the Avatar, as you claim to be, then you can have free access to the village and the environs of Kyoshi Island. But if there is any treachery in your heart, believe me, I will find it."

"Treachery? In that heart?" Katara asked, pointing to Aang, who was sporting just about the most guileless expression ever donned by Man.

"So, who's in charge around this village?" Sokka asked.

"I am," Ohka answered.

"No, seriously. Who is in charge?" Sokka prodded.

Ohka sighed, and turned to Katara. "Your traveling companion is a moron."

"I'm well aware what a goon my brother is," Katara said evenly. Ohka nodded wearily.

"Brother? You have my deepest condolences."

Sokka glared at the sibling and the elder before stomping off. The village, as they put it, was closer to a modest town, which confused Sokka a bit. Not that more than a hundred people could live in one place; he wasn't some uneducated, naïve rube. He'd read enough to know that people would gather in the tens of thousands at the drop of a hat. And in the case of Duoluo Maozi, it was literally the case. No, it baffled him, because there were this many people, and no wharf. Fishermen needed some place to moor their craft, traders to unload. These people had a naked beach, and no obvious sign that there were people living here at all. That was why this all came upon them so unexpectedly: they had no reason to believe they weren't alone.

He still couldn't figure out who had to die to leave a woman in charge, though. Eventually he found his way to a nice, quiet place to ponder. Well, sulk, actually, if he was being totally honest with himself. Girls! He'd gotten his ass kicked by a bunch of girls! What was going on with this island, anyway? The town elder is a woman, the soldiers are girls, and the whole shebang is named after a dead avatar, also a chick. Was this place like the polar opposite of the rest of the world? Was up down and left right? Yeah right, he thought to himself. And flying boars swim.

Sokka's instincts turned out to be spot on, because eventually, a modest spread came up the stairs in the arms of his sister and Aang. "I mean, I know it's nice to not have to get eaten by the Unagi and all, but is it really alright to just take this stuff?" Aang asked nervously. "I mean, I can't sell 'being the Avatar', can I?"

"They wanted to give you food because you gave them hope," Katara said evenly. "It's a fair trade. A lot of people lived their whole lives without any glimmer of hope that the Avatar would return. You gave these people something precious."

Aang crossed his legs under him, but shook his head. "It still feels... weird." he scratched at his head, as if trying to pick the words out of where they'd gotten stuck. "I mean, I'm just a simple monk. I never thought I'd be famous or anything. I'm not sure if I'm up to this whole 'fame and fortune' business."

"Don't worry, Aang. We'll be right there with you, to help you figure everything out," Katara said warmly. "Aren't you going to eat, Sokka? It looks great."

"Not hungry," Sokka declared. Well, pouted, actually.

"But you're always hungry," Aang pointed out.

"Oh, he's just upset because he got captured by a girl."

"Three girls! And I'm not upset! And they snuck up on me!" Sokka belted, knowing that he wasn't helping his case, but his ego wouldn't let this slide.

"Right. They snuck up on you, then they captured you," she said, far-too-sweetly.

"Sneak attacks don't count! Even a child can hit you in the head if you're not looking at them!" he said, starting to pace.

"So you're saying that you've lost against children, too?"

"I was outnumbered!" Sokka shouted. "There were, like, eight of them!"

"There were only three girls," Aang said, confused.

"He's talking about something that happened a few months ago," Katara helpfully pointed out.

"Oooooh," Aang said, before letting out a laugh. It made Sokka growl.

"Well, I'll show them, who's a real warrior and who's just playing dress-up," Sokka declared. He turned to leave, but his nose betrayed him. He turned, reached down, and scooped up a goodly portion of the food that had been laid out. "Man needs a full stomach," he muttered to himself, beginning to eat as he went. "...yeah this is really tasty."

Behind him, out of his gaze, Aang gave Katara a baffled look. She shrugged, with a grunt which roughly said 'I dunno', before they began to eat as well.

---

The building seemed to be painted with two different brushes. The first was bright, garish, with muted greens and brown trim, set off against vibrant crimson and yellow as though to assault the senses. It could have been any building of affluence in all of the East Continent, well, except for the fact that it was quite a bit larger than most that people lived in. More unusual was the fact that for all its size, only two people lived there, or at least, lived there permanently. He had already been seen in by the younger, but she lost interest in him almost instantly. He didn't exactly know why. The older was sitting before him now, and was the reason for the second palette. Over and under and around all of that contrasting drab and garish, the subdued art, the simple mats and benches and tables, there was such a blizzard of colors and motion that he had first stopped to stare in wonder at it.

It had very briefly bothered Sharif that everybody else seemed inured to the otherworldly beauty of this place, where the spirits swirled around one human being and rested just outside the Inner Sphere.

"I'm glad to see you're enjoying my hospitality," Wu said. "Truth be told, I thought you might be in a bit of trouble. Your steed doesn't look in the best of health."

"Oh, don't worry about Patriarch," Sharif said easily, leaning aside to let a flow of void spirits past him. Utterly unnecessary, since he was a man of flesh, and they spirit, but he knew that in their own, unusual way, they appreciated the gesture. She had more void spirits around her than any human Sharif had ever seen. "He's lived a good life. He's got lots of stories."

"I don't doubt he has," Wu said kindly. She was an older woman, grey streaking along her hair. She also had a tendency toward wearing far too much makeup, but he couldn't fault her for it. "He did give the farriers some difficulty, though."

"He's never been shoed before. He thought they were trying to wrangle him. Don't worry, I explained things to him," Sharif said idly, before continuing to eat in earnest. His food had run out yesterday, so he was at a state beyond usual hunger.

"You share an odd bond with that creature," Wu said. She tilted her head for a moment. "You wouldn't happen to be a shaman, would you?"

"Everybody says no," Sharif answered.

"So you don't see the spirit world?"

Sharif paused for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"Can you see the spirits?"

"Can't you?" he asked, also earnestly. Wu rose a brow, but he was already setting back to the task of eating. Patriarch had, at the very least, made the trip interesting. He'd hate to think what he'd have had to do if he was walking alone. He felt her fingers trace the furrowed line of the scar on his forehead. "Stop that. It tickles."

"How did you get this?"

"I don't remember," Sharif answered honestly, his face pulling into distant and futile concentration. "Mother said it was only a few years ago, but I don't really know what happened."

Wu nodded for a moment, then slowly got to her feet. "I you don't mind, I would like to try something."

Sharif motioned for her to go ahead, and she shuffled off into a side room. He leaned back, feeling as his food settled into his belly and quelling the hunger pangs he had felt for an uncomfortably long time. As he was doing so, he came face to face with something orange, small, and furry. "What are you doing here? You're far from home," he said.

"I follow knowledge," the fox answered.

Sharif nodded. Of course it did. The foxes always followed knowledge. That was their duty to Wan Shi Tong. "So where are you going?"

"I follow knowledge."

"Well, good luck," Sharif said, managing not to become annoyed by its limited ability to respond. As he was turning away, a new question came to him. The fox had almost exited the room, walking straight through a wall, and Sharif let out a low whistle. The cunning face turned back toward him. "Who's knowledge?"

"The Four-Soul Mind," the fox answered. Sharif didn't have the first clue what that meant. "The lightning shows the way."

"Oh... Well, good luck," Sharif said.

"Good luck with what?" Wu answered as she returned, a box of something in her hands.

"Just seeing the fox off," Sharif said serenely. Wu let out a chuckle at that.

"There haven't been foxes in the East Continent for centuries. Choose one, please," she said. Sharif reached into the box and extracted a long sliver of bone, delicately etched with a symbol he didn't understand on it. "Ah, a destiny rod. Set it onto the fire, and we will see what the future holds for you."

Sharif dutifully did as the older woman said, and they waited, as fire played along its narrow length. He quickly grew bored and started picking at his ears and lazily watching the spirits as they swirled around the room. The void in particular were ablur with activity. He wondered what was up with that. It might be rude to interrupt them to ask, though.

Finally, there was a slight pop, and she extracted the bone from the fire with a pair of tongs. She looked it over for a moment, but got a concerned expression on her face. She set it down, looked through a tome of some sort, then held the box up again. "Please, take another, and set it on the fire."

Sharif quickly plucked a second rod out, and found it had the same symbol on it. He set it on the fire. This time, it was barely on for a few seconds before it emitted a pop and a lattice of fine fissures sprouted across its surface. She picked it up and set it down beside the first. She then held the box up a third time. "Again, please," and he did as she asked. This time, the instant it was out of his fingers, there was a pop. This time, he had been watching. As soon as the bone left his hand, a void spirit burst into motes of nothingess, spreading over the bone. It was behavior he had never seen in the usually aloof and uninvolved void.

"This is... something I have never seen before in my entire life," she said. "You know what the people of Makapu value me for?" Sharif shook his head. "I am a fortune teller. I have been for many years. My predictions always ring true."

"Oh, that explains all of the void spirits!" Sharif said brightly. Wu raised a brow for a moment, but did not chastise him. "I'm sorry, what was..."

"As I was saying, I have seen thousands of different fortunes. I employ osteomancy, as you have seen, and nephomancy, the study of clouds, as well as lithomancy. Many have condemned me as a firebender, or a renegade airbender, or a lazy earthbender. I just see the signs, and know their importance. But I have never had three lots of sortilege drawn and cracked, and had exactly the same answer all three times."

"What are they telling you?"

Wu looked up, a sober look on her face. "That you live in dangerous times. That you will stand with your toes to the abyss and face down the heart of darkness. That doom and horror will follow in your wake, and peril will set your path. A family torn apart will be restored, a family whole will be rent asunder. This is a danger that is beyond my ability to say for good or ill, young wanderer. If you fight in this battle, you may not survive it."

Sharif swallowed nervously. "Are you sure it was me?"

She turned the bones over and sighed. "You... but not you alone," she said. She laid a comforting hand on Sharif's shoulder. It was sort of like how Mother used to do it when he'd wake up screaming, after the scar. Firm, warm, solid. "There is something else that I have not seen yet. Perhaps in time I will understand this portrait better."

---

Sokka slid the door open and peered inside the dojo, just as the whole clique of women finished their movement, snapping open a bevy of metal fans. He got a smirk on his face as he sauntered in on the painted-faced girls, limbering up his arms. He'd been looking for a place like this, but this was all Kyoshi Island had to offer. "Oh, sorry ladies," Sokka said, letting his hands flare out and give a placating gesture. "Didn't mean to interrupt your little dance lesson."

"Dance lesson?" one of them asked with a shocked tone.

"Zhen," Suki's voice was calm, flat, and silenced the other girl.

"I was just looking for some place to do a workout, and this was all I had to work with. So why don't you all clear some room for a real man to get some exercising done?"

Suki smiled then, though it was tight and not particularly sweet. "Well, I must say you've come to the right place. Come on in. We'll just... get out of your way."

She gestured in, and Sokka took his place in the center of the dojo. It was very bright, for all it lacked torches or sconces. He picked up the fairly pathetic lifting-weight that the girls were using and cast a glance over his shoulder. The girls were all as impassive and unmoving as a forest of dolls. He started working with it, anyway. It wasn't long, though, until he could hear the tittering of girls' voices behind him, and a smug smirk began to spread across his face.

"Say," Suki said, suddenly directly behind him. He managed to hide his yelp of alarm, but only just. "I do feel I should apologize for this morning. We hadn't realized you were friends with the Avatar."

"Well, me and my sister were pretty surprised when we found out... although, actually, so was Aang. Kinda sideswiped the lot of us," Sokka shrugged. "But you're forgiven. I mean, there's not much point holding a grudge against a bunch of little girls, is there?"

"Little girls?" the one at the front, Zhen, said again.

"Zhen..." Suki said over her shoulder. Zhen stewed. When she turned back, there was a smoky smile on her face. "Well, aren't we lucky, then, to have a big strong man like you to keep us all safe from the big bad Fire Nation?"

Now, Sokka was many things, but a keen detector of female sarcasm? Not. Especially once his pride kicked his common sense out of the helmsman's stoop and put hands to the tiller. "Well, you all have nothing to worry about. I am the best warrior in my entire village, after all," not mentioning that he was exiled from said village. That was an embarrassment that he felt no desire to share.

"Best? Must have gotten that by def..."

"Zhen, leave," Suki said flatly.

"But!"

"Now," Suki stressed, and Zhen let out a growl of anger before stomping away.

"Yeah, thanks for that. She really didn't know her place," Sokka said.

There was just an instant where she was about to scowl, but it became a sultry smile before he could notice it. "Best warrior in your entire village, hm? Maybe you could give us a little demonstration of those phenomenal skills?"

"What are a bunch of girls going to do with my skills?" Sokka asked. She gave him bunny eyes and he let out a put-upon sigh. "I really don't want to hurt any of you so..."

"Oh come on," she said. She turned to the other white-faced girls. "Don't you all want to see what the great warrior is capable of?"

A chorus of affirmatives spurred his smugness to a tipping point. "Fine, fine," Sokka said. "If that's what you really want, then who am I to say no? Suki, you just stand right there," Sokka took a step back, and readied a punch. "And it might be tough, but try to block this!"

Sokka let out his warrior's cry, and cast that fist forward... and found himself twisting away, a sharp pain in his shoulder. He let out a yelp and staggered back. Suki, ever so calmly, lowered the closed fan that she'd rebuked him with. "So difficult," she confirmed flatly.

"Yeah, well, I was just going easy on ya', you know, so I could know what you were capable of," he said, somewhat disingenuously. "Let's see how you handle this!"

Sokka threw himself at her again, a cry on his lips, only to find her slide through his nascent flurry, to plant both fists into his stomach, and then with surprising leverage and power, push backward, casting Sokka right off of his feet. When he popped back up, outrage flowed through him. How dare they? They were just a bunch of girls! What did they know about fighting? Suki just stood there, calm as you please, without even the decency to look amused. The girls in the back saw no end tot he comedy, however, and that made his blood boil. Nobody makes a fool of Sokka!

"That does it," Sokka said, and ran at Suki. Once again, she almost looked bored as he bore down on her. But as he tried to grab her, to put her into those clever locks that Dad had taught him all those years ago, she just wasn't there anymore. He felt something tug at him, and he turned, before running toward her again. He made it one step before his pants fell down. His cry of wrath quickly curdle, and even faster when she grabbed his arm, twisted it back painfully, and kicked his entangled feet out from under him. He landed face first on the ground, and before he even got the stars out of his eyes, he felt a knot pull tight on his wrist... and ankle. She hogtied him, with his own belt!

Suki walked in front of him, finally smiling again, and this time, even Sokka couldn't mistake her expression for anything but condescension. "Was there anything else you wanted to show us?" she asked, snapping open a metal fan. Sokka buried his face in the floor, if only to hide as he flushed darkly with embarrassment.

Beaten by girls.

Oh, there would be no living this one down.

---

Azula tapped her nails, long and sharp as her wit needed to be, against the rail as the crane ever-so-slowly rotated and dumped its load of coal into the hoppers which fed the engines. She could sense, as much as see, Zuzu standing vigil nearby. She didn't say a word, though. She wouldn't acknowledge his presence right now. Everything she had must be put into the hunt. She knew where the Avatar was. She knew it was right. She knew he was weak, distracted. She knew she would face him again. But time, as everything else in her life, seemed to stack against her. How ironic that she had once been considered the luckier of the children of Ozai?

"Azula, you should rest. Glaring at the dock workers isn't going to make them work any faster," Zuko pointed out.

"If I don't watch them, then they will slack off, and we will miss our opportunity," Azula countered. Zuko sighed, but didn't press his point. Years on this accursed ship, waiting for this glorious moment. Drifting, shiftless and directionless. But that was changing, now. If only these peasants would shift their collective asses and get their job done! She clenched her hand into a fist, her fingernails cutting into her palm, as she emitted a growl and stomped toward the gangway. Zuko raised a protest, but her golden-eyed glare silenced him... or at least, made him wait for a better opportunity, because he quietly started to follow her. She left the familiar and unloved sensation of slowly bobbing on the tides and returned to solid land, and marched into the face of the foreman of these lazy, shiftless workers.

"Why is this taking so long?" she demanded.

"We can only work so fast. Our main crane is broken and this one doesn't have much left in her either," he said, not even looking her in the eye, instead scanning along lines which were tacked to a piece of board.

"You impudent peon! Do you have any idea who I am?" she demanded. He looked up at that, a bit confused, and an equal measure annoyed.

"A preferred client who is getting preferential treatment," he answered. "Are you going to stand here and try to knock heads with fate? Because that'll be a lot more useful that shouting at anybody under my watch."

"Which is why I'm yelling at you," Azula said.

"Azula, come on. Let the man do his job."

"No, he isn't doing his job, obviously, or we would be refueled and gone by now!" Azula countered. Zuko, though, turned to the foreman.

"Why is the machinery here in such disrepair?" he asked.

"All the money goes toward building new ships, not maintaining the ones we have," he answered with a sigh. "Especially not in occupied territory. Agni's blood, and I thought Ozai was supposed to be better than his father was."

"Ozai is twice the Fire Lord Azulon was," Azula snapped.

"And half the Fire Lord we need," the foreman finished.

Azula gaped for a moment, before her face darkened with wrath. "How dare you, you trait..."

"Azula, please," Zuko said, dragging her out of her tirade before she could even get sufficient momentum to become unstoppable. Damn it, Zuko! He got an easy smile on his face, false, she was well aware, but disarming nonetheless. "Forgive my sister. She has strong feelings about the current leadership."

"Everybody's got a right to their opinion," he said, his bright grey eyes looking over the ship. "We'll likely be done in about an hour. If you think that's too long, take it up with the Viceroy, once Fire Lord Ozai ever gets around to choosing one."

"Much obliged," Zuko said.

"What is your name, stranger?"

"Lee," Zuko lied. Azula cast a glance to Zuko. "Please, do your job. The rest is in the hands of Agni."

Zuko turned away, walking along the wharf, and Azula stormed after him. "You kowtow to some peasant?" she asked.

"Distracting him would consume time he would better spend getting our ship restocked," Zuko pointed out evenly.

Azula had to see the logic in that, even if she was still angry enough to twist an iron bar into knots. "And what was this 'Lee' nonsense?"

"Zuko is the Prince. Nobody has that name but me. There are a million Lee's in West, another million Li's in the East, and a few hundred thousand Leigh's here in Great Whales. Azula's about as ubiquitous a name as you'll find in Azul. No reason to give Zhao a trail to follow, as I see it."

She stewed at that. He had a point. A good point. And she hated that she hadn't thought of it first. Damn this infernal confusion, damn this doubt, and thrice-damn this illness of her mind! She had to be better than this. "So you have things well in hand. I'm surprised that you even bother listening to me if I can't get even something this simple right."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Zuko consoled. "If the Avatar is really on that island, then you need to be focused so that we can capture him. And if he isn't, then no harm done. We know he has to go North eventually, since he'll find no masters here."

Azula looked around, and for a moment, there was a cloud of doubt in her eyes. Not that she could do what she needed to; there was utter certainty of that. No, the doubt was about... this. For some reason, every fiber of her being told her that all of this wasn't right. That something about this dock, this wharf, this town, didn't belong here. But it was just another unwanted fancy of a diseased mind. An unwanted fancy that she luckily had the strength of will to ignore. If only all of her problems were so easily dealt with. Zuko stopped at a fishmonger, and half-mindedly pointed out a few admittedly impressive and tasty looking specimens.

"We have good reason to hide from Zhao," Zuko pointed out. "He's fixated on you to an unhealthy degree. You heard him, he thinks you're precognitive. And that's just ridiculous. There's no such thing as precognition."

The vendor boxed Zuko's fish, and turned to the prince with a smile. "Thank you. Oh, have you heard the news? They say the Avatar is on Kyoshi Island!"

Zuko went pale, his jaw dropped. He turned, the most hilarious stunned expression on his face. Azula answered him with the most smug smirk that she was capable of producing, as she tapped her fingers against her crossed arm. He looked down at the fish, then to the east, before back to Azula. He then pointed somewhat listlessly off to the side.

"We should... probably get back to the ship," Zuko said, his voice flat and a bit hollow.

"That's a good boy," Azula said, patting his shoulder before moving ahead of him. Zuko would learn, sooner or later, to doubt her at his own peril. The Avatar was on Kyoshi Island, yes... but not for long. Because soon one or the other wouldn't be. She would see to that.

She felt quite a bit better about herself as she strode back toward the ship.

---

Sokka was muttering to himself outside. He hated this. He hated being beaten by a bunch of girls. He hated being beaten by one girl on her own even more. But what burned hottest, harshest, and brightest out of all that? Sokka hated being wrong. But the problem with hating being wrong, was that it made sure you kept being wrong. That was why Sokka was here, fighting a tug-of-war between pride and sensibility. He kicked a rock, and let out a yelp which cut into his dark grumbling as it painfully stubbed his toe. Some days, it seemed like the universe just had it in for him. And it was the last sign that he needed to make up his mind. What sort of warrior was he? He was half-trained at best. It was time he admitted that to himself.

With a sigh, Sokka moved toward the door of Ohka's dojo and slid it open. Within, still training even with the sun setting behind the hills, was Suki, their leader. He felt a shard of hesitation press at his spine like a dagger made of ice. Every shard of his manliness told him to not do this. Every shard of his common sense kicked his manliness in the face with an iron boot. He let out a nervous chuckle. "Uh... Hi, Suki," Sokka said with a weak wave. Suki broke off of a rapid kata to stare at him, her expression invisible behind the makeup. But she didn't mock, jeer... she just watched, as though watching an uninteresting bird standing on a roof eave.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Trying to interrupt another dancing lesson?"

"No... well, I can explain that," Sokka said uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. She raised a brow at this, crossing her arms before her armored breast.

"Then do so," she pressed neutrally. Man, she was a weird chick. Come on, show some sort of emotion! Even annoyance, like you did that first time! "What do you want from us?"

Swallowing his pride, Sokka lowered himself to the floor, kneeling before Suki. "I wish to learn to fight as you do," he said. He heard a surprised grunt, and when he glanced up, he beheld a genuinely surprised expression on Suki's face. She obviously hadn't judged him capable of this. Well, Sokka just lived to defy expectations. "I would be honored if you would teach me."

"Even if I'm 'just some chick'?" she said sarcastically, tapping a foot on the ground.

"I'm... a bit of an ass sometimes," Sokka admitted. "My mouth goes faster than my brain sometimes, and I have a bad tendency of putting my foot into the former and the latter up another part of my anatomy. I shouldn't have said any of that."

She now regarded him like some interesting bird on a roof eave. "Teach you. You might have noticed that all of the Kyoshi Warriors were women? It, like using non-benders, was a conscious choice by Kyoshi's daughter Koko. Do you expect us to reverse all of that?"

Sokka sighed with defeat. "I understand. I can't make you turn against your traditions for some outsider. I'll just leave," he said.

"Wait a second," Suki said quickly. "Just because you can't be a Kyoshi Warrior doesn't mean you can't learn something. You've already proved me wrong once today, since I'd pegged you as a sexist, feather-brained idiot who would sulk the rest of his stay here away. Perhaps you may surprise me yet again?"

A grin stretched across Sokka's face, and he lowered himself into a fighting stance. "Alright, so how do we do this?"

Suki tapped her closed fan against her arm. "First of all, your stance," she said.

"What's wrong with my stance?" Sokka asked.

"You're too low. Ordinarily low is good, but you're power low. That's almost earthbending low. You need to be mobile low. Not to get power from the legs, but to have maneuverability from a stance. Like this," she took up a stance of her own, which was almost like standing uninterested, leaning forward ever so slightly. Sokka emulated it. "From this, you can move in any direction. Try to hit me."

"Do I have to?" Sokka said. "I don't like hitting a girl."

Suki answered by hurling her fan and braining Sokka with it. He blinked away stars in his eyes. She smirked at him. "How about now?"

"I'm not going to be able to hit you," Sokka pointed out.

"Not the point. The point is to try, and learn from why you can't," Suki answered. Sokka shrugged, then honestly tried to get a grip on her. But the punches were easily shifted past, her feet not even lifting from the floor, just a bend at the hips and knees. When he tried to grab her, she took one step back, levering his arm down and almost hurling him face first into the floor. "You fight with your own strength. Plenty of styles use that. Ours uses our enemy's strength."

"What?"

"Using the opponent's strength against him is a valuable skill. One you'd do well to learn," she said. She released Sokka, and he staggered back, rubbing his shoulder which now ached from her abuse of it. "I can show you a few things, but you will have to adhere to our traditions. All of them."

"Meaning?" Sokka asked. She turned, reached down, and threw a dress at him. He stared at her. "You're nuts, you know that?"

"Put it on," Suki said, smirking. Sokka rolled his eyes, then started disrobing. Her eyes went wide at that. "What, here?"

"Why not?" he asked, dropping his pants. She blushed hard enough that he could see it right through the makeup on her face, although he couldn't see why. It wasn't like he was even naked. He stepped into the dress and started pulling it up. "I don't see the point of this. It's all... girly."

"It's not girly," Suki said, still facing away. "It's a warrior's garment."

"Really?" Sokka asked.

Of course, the universe couldn't resist an opportunity to mess with him, because at that exact moment, his sister popped her head into the dojo, and let out a loud laugh. "Hey there, big sister," she said. "Nice dress."

Sokka glared at Katara as she chuckled to herself, settling against the doorframe. "I will not kill my sister. I will not kill my sister," Sokka muttered to himself.

"Is he dressed yet?" Suki asked. Oh, this was going to be a wonderful day.

---

"Here's one that I've been working on for a little while now," Aang said, squatting down before his audience of children, most of whom aged between six and ten. He gave a whistle to the lemur that he'd taken to calling 'Momo' over the last few days, and the little creature swooped down and rummaged through Aang's kavi, which elicited no few titters of laughter from the audience. Not Aang's intended effect, obviously, but it made them happy, and the lemur quickly deposited a handful of marbles into Aang's palm. He pressed both hands together, taking a calming breath, then opened his hands, and the marbles now spun at incredible speed in an intricate pattern between his palms.

"ooooooooh," was the most common reaction. Katara couldn't help but smile at the whole affair, though. A few days ago, he had been hiding in Ohka's upper room, too uncomfortable with the whole 'he's the Avatar' thing to even face people. But time passed, and he started talking to people. Seeing the effect just his very presence had to this beleaguered place. Within hours of Aang's arrival, they were repainting the statue of Kyoshi for the first time in a century. Within a few more, people were lining up outside the house trying to get in and see him, be blessed by him, even simply touch him. One of them got so excited that he frothed at the mouth and collapsed into an insensate heap the moment Aang stepped past the threshold. That pushed him back into a dark corner for hours. But still, he glanced toward her, finally noticing her presence, and got to his feet.

"I've got to go for a while, alright?"

"But you just got here, Aangy!" one of the girls complained.

"It's alright. In a way, I'm right here with you," he said, casting a hand toward the statue of Kyoshi. The girl took that with an ounce of bewilderment, but Aang was already moving spritely toward her.

"Aangy?" Katara asked with amusement, as she shifted her grip on the basket. Aang instantly took it from her grasp and balanced it neatly atop his crown. Aang shrugged, and the two of them started walking. "Although, I have to admit, it's nice seeing you have fun again. You were sort of in a bad way for a while, there."

"Yeah, I know," Aang admitted. "There's a lot of stuff that I've had to deal with. I mean, why do I have to be the Avatar? What did I do to earn this kind of responsibility?" he paused, looking across the village. "But that doesn't really matter, does it. I am what I am. And you know something? It's not really that bad. These people have hope again for the first time in years, and it's all because of me. Well, what I am, anyway," he said, scratching his bald pate.

"You are spending a lot of time out here with these people," Katara pointed out lightly. Aang grinned.

"What, are you jealous?" he asked with a grin.

"Jealous of what?" Katara asked. Aang feigned a wound and a look of shock. "I just hope this doesn't all go to your head. Considering how far the North Pole is already, I shudder to think what'll happen if you have to stop to stoke your ego every time we land Appa."

"I'm not going to be that bad," Aang said brightly. "I like helping people. There's nothing wrong with that."

Katara couldn't help but agree with that point. And in his way, he had. The entire village had reawakened in the last few days. The Kyoshi Warriors, once stone faced and introverted, now laughed like the girls they were as Appa licked one of them hard enough to send her flat on her back. This had been an island steeped in paranoid fear for far too long. In a way, it was kinda like home. Oh, now didn't that just sting at the heart. Banished from the land of her birth. She would never get used to that. A part of her would have dearly loved to hate Aang for putting her in this position, sending her to this place. But she just couldn't. He was too bright, too innocent, too... good.

"You never did say where we're going next," Katara asked. "I mean, we've been all over the place down here in the south, but we have to head north eventually."

"Well, Omashu is to the northeast, and we just have to visit there," Aang said. "From there, we can just follow the west coast all the way to the Heel of Ru Nan. Clear sailing from there!"

"What's in Omashu?" Katara asked. Then, after a moment to ponder, she amended her question. "What is Omashu?"

"A city. A great, earthbender city. You'll love it," Aang said. She let out an exasperated sigh, and shook her head. He had an enthusiasm that would either elevate or enervate a person. She was hard pressed to decide which it was. She glanced back toward the water, far behind them, and for a split second, she could have sworn she saw something move out there. Just a flicker of darkness near the sweeping cliffs, before it vanished from sight.

"Did you see that?" Katara asked. Aang turned suddenly, having to steady the basket of food atop his head when he did so. He peered with those keen grey eyes of his out into the bay, but he let out a cluck of the tongue which sufficed for his current inability to nod nor shake his head. "Maybe it was just the Unagi."

"I don't know why they put up with that thing," Aang said. "I mean, I'm all for letting animals have their way, but that thing's a menace!"

"It keeps big ships away," Katara pointed out. "It's good for their privacy."

"It shouldn't have to be like this," Aang said, his tones growing oddly dark for him. "People shouldn't have to live in fear."

"Well, maybe now that you're back, they won't have to."

Aang let out a sigh, not defeated, but tired, and the rest of their walk back to their temporarily overtaken abode was made in silence.

---

The thin scrap of parchment slid easily into the tube, which her tattooed fingers slid onto the bird's back with an efficiency born of years of practice. Falconry was widely considered a Fire Nation art, but she had learned that it had utility that she refused to abandon. She pulled the hood from the bird, and shooed it out the window, noting how the brown and red bird flapped vigorously toward the north. The one before had gone a much shorter distance, and to the south. Truth be told, she was rapidly running out of reasons to put this off. She had already contacted everybody... well, everybody but one, and he was notoriously hard to get into contact with.

Sativa Badesh bint Seema din Nassar rubbed her hands together, feeling how dry and callused they were. They were a fighter's hands, pure and simple. When she came back, fifteen years ago, the people reviled her. No great surprise, considering it was nursing a head-wound, and eight months pregnant. Even had she not born a pair of bastard twins – whom all considered a portent of infidelity atop her lechery, mostly because they had no conception that twins didn't work that way! – her cold, rough manner, hard hands, and incisive eyes practically assured that she would remain unwed. As well jump and touch the moon as alter that, though; she had neither inclination nor motivation to change. She had better things to worry about.

She turned back to the stairs, heading down toward her study. She paused briefly, looking into the higher of the two rooms Nila had claimed for her own. This one was darkened, its shutters nailed closed, and cluttered almost to the point where there was no easy entrance. Sativa looked at that room, and listened. Nothing. Not the quiet words that Nila always muttered to herself when she was concentrating. Not the formless and rambling song that Sharif would hum, or outright sing, any time he was alone. The house was silent. She let out a quiet sigh, vanishing into that silence. It had been a very long time since this house had been silent. She didn't quite like that.

Sativa turned away from Nila's laboratory, and headed down to the lower floor. Fifteen years in this house. Well, thirteen, with all of her absences tallied in. It had been a cruelty to leave Nila and Sharif alone those years past, and for so long. But the Dragon of the West was rampaging unchecked, and even managed to penetrate the Impenetrable City, a feat even Chin the Conqueror couldn't match. They needed somebody capable of throwing him back. And it was about damned time when they finally put her in charge of those incompetents and let her do the job that needed doing.

She looked at the banner, which spread across her wall. Two of them, in fact. The higher was her battle standard, the ring of green chain against red. That was something she earned years upon years ago, back during her youth. But it was that which hung below it, the white flower against black, that gave her a greater sense of accomplishment. Which was she? The simplest answer was that she was both. But she feared that soon, they would be coming into conflict. She reached up, and pulled her standard, won in blood and battle, and draped it across her desk. She shook her head. Then she spun and hurled a dagger from her thigh toward the doorway.

A metal ping sounded sharply in the room, as the blade was batted aside by a narrow knife-edge shield of metal. A smirk came to Sativa's face. "Most would have dodged that," she said smoothly. "Very few could have parried it. Welcome to my home, Piandao."

The man rose to his full stance, his head almost brushing the ceiling, and sheathed his midnight black sword. The gulf in heights between the master of the house and the visitor was immense, well over a foot of difference. "I was beginning to think you would never invite me," he answered, with a smirk of his own. She nodded toward her desk, and he quickly spun a chair toward it.

"I was going to write to you, but it seems that the practice has become more or less moot," Sativa pointed out. "Come. Share kaffe with me."

"I would prefer tea," Piandao said.

"I have kaffe."

"Very well," he answered, rubbing at his untended beard. In all, he was a much more ragged person that she remembered, back all those years before. But then, the last few years had not been kind to quite a few people, Piandao included. While he was somewhat scruffy of appearance, he was not dirty; Piandao wouldn't allow that of himself, even in exile. But his clothes were tatters, and his skin was almost as dark as hers, for it had seen much sun and exposure in recent years. He was a rough man, now. He had to be. He took a cup of kaffe and sipped at it, giving it a twisting of his face in displeasure. "Hm. More bitter than I'm used to."

"Beggars shouldn't be choosers." Sativa answered. She leaned back in her seat. "It has been a long time, since we met face to face."

"Indeed. Not since that night..."

"But now isn't the time to think about that," Sativa tried to divert him, but he got a focused expression.

"I've done the math, Sati," she stared at him. "I deserve to know, so please, tell me. Who is it?"

She let out a sigh. "To tell the truth, I have done the math as well. Nila, my daughter, is already as tall as I am, and she still has years of growing. That excludes the pig out of hand. With him out of contention, that leaves the Tribesman, or you."

"So I could be their..."

"I make no claims, as I didn't then," Sativa cut him off. "And that is all that topic needs discussing. I thought I would have to find you. Since I do not, that makes things significantly easier for all parties involved."

Piandao leaned forward. "Did you really send them away?" he asked.

"I didn't have to," Sativa said. "Sharif did what the Grand Lotus said he would, and I knew that Nila would follow after him. I didn't expect that she would drag her heels quite so drastically, but I made sure to spur her. She will be a fine woman, if I have to drag her, kicking and screaming, into it."

"You sound like you're proud of them," Piandao said.

"Of course I am. They are my children," she said. "Why did you come to me, Piandao?"

"The North. It's not holding out," Piandao said. "I spoke to the Grand Lotus in the North. Liberal estimates state that the North will fall by the end of winter. We're losing ground at an alarming rate, Sativa. Something has to be done."

She nodded. "To think, two decades ago, I could fight at their side. Now, it is war to the last man. What has become of this world?"

"A people governed by a warrior become a people of warriors. Their lives, thus governed, inevitably become harsh, brutish, violent, and short, because that is the only way that a warrior king can hold his throne," Piandao said.

"Ozai is no warrior king," Sativa said, rising from her chair. "He's too cunning. He's not building some fragile empire of personality. If he wins, he could build an eternal empire of Fire."

"Then we must ensure he fails," Piandao said, raising his glass, but not drinking from it. He paused for a moment. "You must have heard the news."

"What news is this?" she asked.

"The Avatar has returned," Piandao said, setting that cup aside. "Perhaps things will not be so grim as I fear. If the Avatar can be brought to our side..."

"That is assuming the Avatar is not a firebender. If he or she is a waterbender, then she is trapped. If an earthbender, then that will be for the best. But I doubt we can last the fifteen or sixteen years for the child to grow," she said.

Piandao smiled then, a cunning smile behind a straggly beard. "Oh, but that his the best part. The Avatar is not an infant. He is an airbender."

"An airbender?" she asked. She considered for a long moment, as the knowns and estimates of the entire World War shifted in her mind. And when they ceased, there was an almost audible clunk. "This is momentous news," she said. "We need to leave."

"I thought..."

"No," she said, dismissing their shared and now irrelevant plan. "We need to inform the others of this change of plans immediately. An airbender Avatar changes everything. And as soon as the word is out, we must set out ourselves."

"To what end?"

"Wan Shi Tong," she said, quite simply, and Piandao turned a bit grey at that. "It is our only option."

"That doesn't make it a good one, Sati," he pointed out. "But I swear you will not have to undertake it alone."

She smiled, for a moment. "Always such a gentleman," she cooed.

"A man should always treat a woman well," Piandao said.

"Now go and shave. You look like a bandit," Sativa pointed into the lavatory.

"Yes, ma'am," the swordsman said with a tone of sarcasm. By the gods, it was good to see old friends. Even if she didn't show it on her face.

---

"They didn't see us," Zuko announced, setting the spyglass back onto its rack. "Otherwise, there would have been some response. We have them completely unawares."

"Good," Azula said, limbering her back in the red and black, two piece armor that left her muscular midriff bare. While the armor was utterly ridiculous for any serious combat, and would have been an invitation of effortless murder if worn against an earthbender, she knew what her opponent was capable of. Against an airbender opponent, or a waterbender, she required absolute flexibility. Armor would get in the way. "Saddle the rhinos. We attack at once."

Zuko glanced back to her. "What rhinos?" he asked. She glared at him. "We put those off two months ago. We couldn't afford to keep feeding them."

"Are we that impoverished that we cannot maintain three Komodo Rhinos?" she asked caustically.

"In a word, yes," Zuko said. "That coal in our burners means we're going to be eking out our dinners with fish for a while."

She ground her teeth. "If we have no rhinos, what was all that noise below decks?"

Zuko uncomfortably ran his fingers through his hair. "Uncle is trying to start a 'music night'. It's going about as well as you'd expect."

"So no rhinos. Fine. The two of us will be able to capture the Avatar ourselves," Azula declared.

"And if they have allies?"

She gave him a wan glance. "Please, like the rising star of the Burning Court would have problems with a few villagers?"

Zuko sighed. "Be that as it may, what about you?"

"I'll improvise," she said simply. After a silent moment where he stood stock still, she let out a growl. "Well? Are we going to stand there or are we going to capture the Avatar?"

Zuko rolled his eyes, and made his way down into the bowels of the ship. Had she really not been below in two months? Time seemed to keep slipping away from her. And it infuriated her. Maybe, when the Avatar was in chains, and she was restored to her rightful place, she would finally be able to shake that sense of being unshackled from herself, of flapping in the storm. That was her hope, at least. She paused as she strode toward the stairwell, and threw open a door which she could hear snoring behind. She shoved the door hard, letting its clang startle the old man out of his slumber, if only momentarily. Uncle turned toward her, glancing to her with only one golden eye. "We're going to catch the Avatar," she stated.

"I see," Uncle said, before turning back toward the wall. Around a yawn, he continued. "Try to be home before dinner."

It beggared her imagination how her father could be related to that.

---

"Alright, now don't try to block, just force me to move past you," Suki said. She lashed forward without any other indication, but this time, Sokka's body practically moved of its own accord, his arms sweeping up and his leg moving forward to tip her over and land her hard on her side. She took a moment to catch the breath which had been knocked from her, before shooting a glare at him. "I just did that to make you feel better."

Sokka broke out into a wide, honest grin at that. "I got you! I totally got you, didn't I?" he cheered.

"Maybe."

"What was that? Did Sokka finally knock down the Kyoshi Warrior?" Sokka said, cupping a hand to his ear and leaning toward her. She made him regret doing that, when she grabbed his last two fingers and levered, pulling him painfully off of balance. "Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow..."

"Congratulations. You've finally proved yourself worthy of a first lesson," she said not unkindly, before releasing his hand. "Ordinarily, what you've shown is the base level requirement for training."

Sokka wilted at that. "So I'm not even as good as a first day student?"

"Our standards are what outsiders would call ridiculously high," Suki admitted. "With what you've shown, you could probably apply to any dojo in the East, and possibly enroll at Sergeant in an army."

"Really?"

"Kyoshi was an Avatar in an age of war, much like Aang is," she said. "Her legacy was, for the most part, martial."

"I still can't believe she lived to be two hundred and thirty," Sokka pointed out, rubbing his fingers to get the pain out of them.

"That's nothing. My mother is ninety."

Sokka stared at her. "You're kidding, right?"

"My older sister is a grandmother," she calmly stated.

"That makeup makes it very hard to tell if you're messing with me."

"That's part of the fun of it," Suki said flatly, a wry smirk on her face. "I trust you'll be here tomorrow? Perhaps the 'greatest warrior of the South Water Tribe' might actually have something to show us after all."

"Maybe," Sokka said, hauling the dress he was wearing over his head, using the motion to wipe the paint off of his own face. While it was undeniably and chaffingly girly to get all dolled up like that, he couldn't deny the results. That, and he thought Suki might have a thing for him. Maybe.

Or it could just be that he couldn't tell for the makeup.

"Do you have to do that right here?" Suki asked, unease creeping into her voice.

"What?" Sokka asked, standing in his skivvies. "It's not like I'm even naked."

"You're close enough!" she squawked. "I swear, you Tribesmen are... weird!"

"How so?"

"Your sister bathed in the men's bath without batting an eyelash!"

"You have separate baths?" Sokka asked. He scratched at his head. "I guess that explains why Zhen chased me around with a bucket for an hour yesterday."

Suki just shook her head, probably consigning herself to whatever oddness she assigned to this situation. Sokka just couldn't get it. Between the close quarters and the sweat-tent being the only means of sanitation, Sokka had about as much call to being ashamed of nudity as a shaman did to be taken seriously.

"So what now? Dinner at Ohka's?" Sokka asked. Suki opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted when Zhen, her makeup in the process of application even as she spoke burst in on the scene. She cast one scandalized glance at Sokka, before shaking her head and facing Suki.

"Suki! There are firebenders in the village!" she said urgently as she painted red over white, creating the ghastly mask of black and white, eyes seeming to trail like flames or blood. "They've finally come!"

"How many?" Suki asked.

"Well, just two, but..."

"Two?" Sokka asked. "One of them a pale girl, kinda pretty, the other a dark haired guy, kinda man-pretty?"

"That... do you know them?"

"What are they doing here?" Sokka asked, confused. He shook his head and headed out to figure out for himself.

"What are you doing?" Zhen asked. "He can't go out without..."

"Nevermind that. Gather the girls," Suki said to Sokka's vanishing back. "It looks like the World War has finally landed on Kyoshi Island."

---

The scene that lay before the Prince's eyes was one he didn't see often. Silence, stillness, and tension. Of course, he didn't have a tendency to announce at full lung who he was every time he happened across human civilization, so he found it relatively easy to go incognito. His black, red and gold armor, his flame-motifed helm, though, were currently doing the speaking for him. He gave a glance to his sister, who was scanning the street, wary as a cat in a hound kennel.

"Far be it for me to doubt your hunch, but..." Zuko began.

"This is Kyoshi Island," Azula said sharply. "They are here. The Avatar is here."

"Well then, perhaps we should recruit some local assistance?" Zuko asked smugly.

"That's your answer for everything."

"Because it usually works."

"There are some days that I hate you, Zuzu."

Zuko gave his little sister a smirk, and took one aggressive step forward, before taking a deep breath, and letting his voice carry down the abandoned streets. "I am Prince Zuko, heir and plenipotentiary of the Fire Nation. You are harboring an enemy of the state and fugitive in your midst. Release him immediately, or face the consequences!"

Silence followed, broken only by the sound of the wind.

"Did they...?"

"They heard you," Azula answered. She took her place beside him, and joined him, her mocking tones projecting through the rows of buildings. "Do you really want us to go in there and look for him ourselves? I relish the opportunity. I dare say it would be..." she opened her hands, and globes of golden flames erupted in her palms. "...illuminating."

"That was terrible."

"Shut up, Zuzu."

A creak brought the attention of both royal siblings to a building not far away. A girl, maybe ten years old at the most, darted out, and hurled a mostly fileted fish at Zuko. He deftly bent aside, but that only served to see it slap Azula in the neck and drape along her shoulder. "Go away! You're a bad man!" the girl shouted.

Azula very slowly, very deliberately, pulled that fish of off her shoulder; even as she did, it began to spontaneously combust. "Zuzu here isn't a bad man. He's got too many rules. I don't."

"Azula..."

"Enough of this. The Avatar is some moon-eyed pacifist? Let's destroy his beloved peace."

And with that, she lashed out with a knife-handed chop, which sent an arc of flame directly into the thatched roof of the building the girl emerged from. The child let out a squeal of terror and ran back to the door, only to have it burst open and knock her off of her patio, as a woman ran out, carrying to younger children as she fled the destruction. Zuko grabbed his sister's arm and spun her to him. "Azula, what the hell are you doing?"

"Drawing out the prey," she said. "Some targets need to be flushed out."

No sooner had the words fled her mouth than Zuko felt something slam into the side of his head. It staggered him, and he clutched his helm, which had saved him from the worst of the blow, and looked to see where it had come from. Nobody was there. He dropped low, fists forming as he scanned the surroundings, Azula instantly taking his back. "Do you see them?"

"Look up, dum-dum," Azula chastised. When he shifted his gaze from the streets to the roofs, he could see them. Well, as much as they allowed themselves to be seen. Girls, clad in green and black, flashing down from above, surrounding them both. "That's it?" Azula then asked. "I thought you might have prepared a much finer reception for your future overlord."

"We do not bend knee to the Fire Nation or your Fire Lord," an auburn haired woman before Zuko shouted.

"I was referring to me," Azula answered, and then he could feel her move forward, advancing in fire. Zuko did much the same. There was a time where he had chafed under Uncle's teachings. But now, he could understand them. The girls instantly snapped to try to surround him, cut him off. But it just produced what Uncle had called 'a target rich environment'. The girls rushed toward him, and he flicked a blast of fire at them, small, controlled blasts which he blasted out with a staccato rhythm, keeping his feet in constant motion, keeping his breath deep and full. Only the first blast had the intended effect though, blasting a long haired brunette onto her back, whence another quickly vaulted past and shielded her long enough to rise, even if with seared armor.

With a synchronized movement that could only have come with years of practice and utmost mutual familiarity, all of the girls snapped open fans in perfect unison, rotating in and around him, trying to keep him off guard. But he had trained for this. He would not be denied. Not with the Avatar so close.

He knew that the auburn girl was their leader, and that she would give away their first move. So it was she that Zuko watched. It was for that reason, and that reason alone, that the boomerang hit him in the back of the head with complete surprise. This time, the blow knocked him onto his face, but he didn't dare hesitate, spinning himself to his feet with a wash of flame to keep those who would approach from getting to close. He was a good firebender, yes, but he was not immortal. But when he beheld who had levied such a martial insult upon him, he allowed himself a moment of shocked gaping. It was Sokka, that Tribesman from the South Pole... and he was practically naked.

"What are you doing here?" Zuko asked. But his opportunity to get an answer was cut off when he heard the slightest change in the patter of their footsteps, and had to spin into a vigorous defense. Fire and flame danced at his command, blades in the aether that he could shape to his whims. Of course, those whims were somewhat cut short, by the skill of the girls with their fans. How they could deflect those searing blows with such small shields, how they could hurl them with such crippling accuracy, how they could move so fluidly, caused great concern in the Prince. Luckily, he didn't need to engage them hand-to-hand. If he had, he probably would have been unconscious by now. The one factor which kept things from swinging directly into their favor was the Tribesman, since he seemed to get in their way. The interruption was enough to catch one of the girls by surprise, and ignite a blast of fire between his hands and her chest, sending her rocketing away into a window. "Where is the Avatar, Sokka? This doesn't have to concern you!"

"This has everything to do with you!" another familiar voice shouted. He saw the other Tribesman, this one not practically nude, but in this case, that was unfortunate, because Katara was admittedly a bit of a looker. "We got exiled because of you! We can't go home because of you!"

"Just give us the Avatar, and that will be the end of it," Zuko stressed. He opened his hands, letting the girls catch their balance and their breath. "You are no enemy of the Fire Nation. What you do is no matter of mine."

Zuko gave a glance to where Azula was fighting, expecting the worst. And finding about as far from it as he could imagine. His sister, so frail, so confused, so scattered, had obliterated the force which had been arrayed against her. The girls of the Kyoshi Warriors were either rolling out burning armor, limping, or unconscious in the street. And more tellingly, Azula didn't look the least bit out of breath. "Why are you talking to them, Zuzu? They're too dumb to figure out their best course is to surrender the Avatar. So we find him by force."

"Why do you even want him? What's so important that it's worth destroying the world's last shred of hope?" Katara now shouted at Azula. Upon hearing the Tribeswoman's voice, though, a change came over Azula. Instead of facing away, in a stance of martial readiness... she slowly turned, and a darkness fell over her. Her golden eyes became murky, not like the veil of confusion that often beset her, left her weeping in frustration and fear; no this was a whole other beast. This was pure, savage, almost bestial and untenable rage.

"Azula, what are...?" he managed to ask.

And then Azula attacked. She hurled herself a remarkable distance, firebending creating a rocket under one foot as the other twisted up and cast out in an axe kick with flame growing from the heel. But this wasn't golden flame. This was a harsh and snapping electric blue, like the flames from the pits of some Adamite vision of Hell. The wave of flame swept down toward the blue-eyed girl, and she could only stare, terrified, as it crashed down toward her.

Until a flash of orange and yellow. The airbender gave a great sweep of his staff, and a billow of wind smashed into the descending wave of fire, cutting it off before it could reach he and his Tribesman ward. "I'm here!" the Avatar shouted. "I'll be your prisoner. Just leave these people in peace!"

"Who said anything about prisoner?" Azula's voice didn't sound normal. The accent was much thicker, like she was losing her command of even a common language like Tianxia. Zuko's eyes went wide at that, and she threw herself into a twisting whirlwind of lethal fire. And the others took that to mean that Zuko's truce had been shattered, and he found himself under pressure once more.

He dodged and weaved, avoiding the grapples, the locks, the fan-strikes of the Kyoshi Warriors. Not easily, but with enough aplomb, and mostly due to that they fought in a way which was, in its heart, predictable. The Tribesman, though, was a different story. Just fast enough to be a nuisance, unpredictable enough to get shots in past Zuko's guard, it was not the Warriors, but a mostly naked youth, thousands of miles from his home and proper place, who was slamming cudgel into armor. As much as it galled to be even momentarily bested by such a peasant, Zuko had to admit, it was just damned lucky that the Tribesman favored the war-club instead of something much more deadly, like those machetes that they purportedly used to great effect in the North.

Even as Zuko fought, a small part of his mind kept trying to tell him that the Tribesman must be predictable. He must have a pattern. But every time that small portion thought it was on to something, the Tribesman did something insane, which would have gotten any canny or self-preserving fighter killed, which Zuko had to recoil from, and break his momentum. It was not for the four girls that Zuko lost his flow, but for one Tribesman. So, with a rictus of anger on his lips and a grunt of angry effort in his throat, Zuko endeavored to balance the equation. A blast of fire directly at the utterly unprotected chest of the Tribesman. But even as it flew, the auburn girl jumped out and intercepted it, and the blast blew both she and Sokka back into an alley, away from Zuko's present concern. Two birds with one stone, as the Eastern saying went.

---

Sokka didn't think that the first time he was mostly naked with a hot girl on top of him that his mind would be on physics and firepower, and yet here he was. Of course, the girl was hot because part of her clothing was on fire, and she was on top of him, because she prevented at cost of her outfit what could have been Sokka's chest cavity. "Are you alright?" Suki asked urgently, as she batted out the flames with only half a mind.

"Am I alright? You just jumped in front of a fireball!" Sokka pointed out in something between bafflement and awe. "Are you insane?"

"I'd do the same for any student, or anybody who fights to protect my home," she said.

"I don't get you, I really don't," Sokka muttered. He tried to get to his feet, but she forced him back down through simple leverage. "Hey, I'm not done yet!"

She pointed out into the street, and Sokka saw that his claim was very much moot. While Zuko was holding off four of the Kyoshi Warriors by himself, Azula was going toe-to-toe with the Avatar... and she was winning. Aang tried to dodge around her attacks, to get to her back where she couldn't attack him. But the one time he did take her back, her spinning, whirling, chaotic attacks just became faster and faster, until he couldn't keep up with her. And then, she would stop attacking Aang and turn her attention back toward Katara, who was trying to herd the unhomed families into safer places. When Azula did that, Aang had to jump betwixt them and regain the firebending woman's attention, and when he did, it cost him. A singe here. A shockwave knocking him back a few steps there. She was driving him back. While Zuko's attacks were powerful, they were easy to dodge. Azula's lacked that weakness.

"You need to get onto your bison and go. They won't stay here when you leave," Suki said... but was that a note of regret that Sokka could hear in her voice?

"I'm sorry we brought this to you."

"Don't be sorry. You couldn't have known," Suki said tenderly.

"I've got a lot of things to be sorry for. I shouldn't have acted like I did when I got here. I shouldn't have treated you and your girls... Well, like I did."

She bent down before him. "We are girls," she said, pressing a point. "We're also warriors. Women are half the population of this Earth, and damned if we are going to sit back and let our home get conquered. So you were an arse when you got here. What matters is that you aren't now," she said. She glanced over her shoulder, and then quickly leaned forward to lay a peck on Sokka's cheek. "Now, basically... run."

And with that, Suki, the bravest woman that Sokka had ever known in his entire life, charged with nothing but burnt armor and a pair of fans, into the fiery maw of death, courtesy of two Nationals who once offered heartfelt thanks. Sokka didn't know when, but at some point, his life had gotten unforgiveably weird. All the more so, because he was now going to go wrangle a ten tonne, six legged, fuzzy magical monster while he was wearing nothing but his underpants. And most of that thought, Sokka realized as he ran toward the silo where Appa preferred to sleep, could have been a wonderful double entendre. He would have to remember it for later.

---

There was such purity in her movements. Azula didn't understand how she had ever had problems with this, how she had ever been slower, weaker, worse, than her brother. But in the back of her mind, she knew that this would fade. That the veil would move forward once more, and shut away the parts of herself that she wanted so desperately to hold on to. The power, the confidence. The surety. The identity. It was only right now, as she twisted with great arcs of remarkable blue fire searing away from her fingers, from her feet, that she knew exactly who she was. Azula. Pure, absolute, certain.

And it would go away, abandon her again. So she lived in the moment, and lived wholly in the fight. Even as she shifted back to attacking the airbender once again, she tried to understand why she kept shifting toward the waterbender any time he exited her line of fire. She wanted to believe it was because doing that kept the Avatar completely off balance. It kept him blocking, when every fiber of his being told him to dodge. It was just a matter of time.

"Azula, you don't need to do this, I'm willing to surrender!" Aan... the Avatar shouted after dissipating another of Azula's barrages. "Just swear you'll leave these people and..."

"No conditions, no promises," Azula said. "No pulse."

"You don't mean that," Aang – the Avatar, damn it! The Avatar! – said, but there was a weird tone to his voice. "You're just afraid."

With that second utterance, Aang's lips hadn't moved.

"I will be Princess again," Azula said. "I will have my place!"

"And who decides what your place is?" the twisted voice of the Avatar asked, one tone innocent, the other mocking. "What do you want, Azula?"

"Enough!" Azula shouted, and lashed forward with two fingers leading... and there was a crack sound, almost like a thunder clap. An explosion sounded before her fingers, driving her back a few steps. Luckily, the airbender had been close enough that the detonation, accidental though it had been, suffered from it as she had. Once again, that tickling scratched at Azula's mind. Why did she even try that? Why did she think she could bend lightning?

Azula took a moment to try to shake both the stars, and that voice, into submission inside her head. But the time that it took to do so proved disastrous; the Avatar recovered quite before she did, and by the time she was aware again, he was already half-way through his kata, which smashed her in the unprotected stomach with a ball of wind that slammed her back into a building, then somehow managed to drive her up until she was pinned between a wall and the overhanging eaves, unable to catch her breath from the pressure.

"You're better than this, Azula," the Avatar said, a sad look on his young face. "You deserve better than this."

And with that, he twirled open his glider staff, grabbed the waterbender, and swooped up into the sky. Only after the great white beast caught the two of them, did the ball of air holding Azula in place dissipate, dropping her unceremoniously to the patio. She glared up at the beast, and even sent a bolt of red flames after them, but gravity took its toll and the thing began its inevitable arc down toward the sweeping beach.

"I had him," Azula muttered. "He was right here and I had him. This is your fault, Zuko! Why didn't you..."

She trailed off when she saw that he was unsteady on his feet, and glaring down a fist at a girl in that odd makeup. So they had hit him harder than her? A foolish mistake. It's not like she could blame Zuko for flagging compared to her when they had incomparable threats levied against them. "I was kind of busy," Zuko answered.

"You can't keep us under steel for long," the girl said. Suki. That was her name. For a moment, a flare of confusion shot through Azula's mind. How did she know that name? But even as the thought came to her, she violently suppressed it. The veil would fall, and she would lose herself, and she wanted to be as strong as she was right now for as long as possible. She must have just heard it somewhere. "You might not have noticed, but we still outnumber you."

"Not even close," A gruff voice came up the hill, toward the village. Uncle. And at his back, all of the marines from the ship.

The veil dropped.

And Azula started to slip away again.

---

The cloudiness in Azula's eyes was a cause for concern, one which pressed at her older brother, but Zuko had other things to concern himself with. Uncle's sudden appearance, despite it being much needed backup, was one of them. "Uncle! What are you doing here?"

"After a few minutes, I realized what Azula said to me, and I made sure you didn't run off and do something stupid," he said tersely. Then, he sighed, most likely taking in the village in flames. Iroh opened up his stance, and raised his hands high, before forcing them down like trying to close an over-packed traveling case. As he did, all of the flames caused by Zuko and Azula fighting the combined might of the Kyoshi Warriors and the Avatar all grew smaller, weaker, and finally snuffed completely. "I really thought I had taught you better than this, Nephew."

"What, you're blaming me for this?" Zuko asked, just as testily.

"Why did Azula do it?" Iroh asked.

"That's... not the point," Zuko redirected, once he realized that he was impugning his sister; even though it was true, he still didn't want to do it.

Iroh looked around, and saw what Zuko did. That Azula was starting to falter, her eyes becoming shifting, dulled, how she would rub her head as though it could dislodge something she desperately needed but couldn't quite bring to mind. Uncle's fierce, humorless expression softened. "I understand. But a problem remains. What do we do now?"

Zuko looked down at the Kyoshi warriors on the ground, unconscious, or just exhausted to the point of collapse. "They assaulted the royal person. There is only one punishment for that," Zuko said.

A voice cried out in despair from one of the larger houses, and a middle-aged woman rushed to the Warrior that Zuko had a blast of fire aimed at. She put herself between the girl and the firebender, her arms spread out. "Don't you dare," she said hotly, and in her own tongue. "I know what your kind do. You can't take my daughter away from me."

Zuko raised a brow. "Are you the leader of this settlement?" he asked, sharing a glance with Azula. She looked at him like even she didn't know what he was doing. The woman glanced aside, but then nodded. "So you are responsible for the actions of the village as a whole. Good," Zuko let his fist fall, but began to pace, with a forced casualness. "Law has me in a bit of a quandary, Elder. On the one hand, we were assaulted without provocation or reason by these fighters. On the other, you claim that you would be responsible for their actions. Did they act by your word, or without it?"

The auburn woman glared at him. "What is the difference?" she demanded.

"If they acted on your word, then you've committed an act of war against the Fire Nation, and you will be occupied, and annexed, your soldiers stripped of arms and standards and imprisoned. If they did not, then they are obviously anarchist terrorists, and will be executed on sight. So which is it, Elder? Are they soldiers, or terrorists?"

The girl looked up at her elder. "Mother, don't do it. It's not worth it!"

The woman looked back, tears forming in her eyes. "Anything is worth it," she said, then turned back to Zuko. "They acted on my orders. I will take responsibility for them."

"It is good that you saw fit to be honest," Zuko said. He glanced to the firebenders and soldiery that marched into the streets. "Imprison them, and send word to the Navy. They will want to establish a permanent garrison here."

"Zuko, why are you doing this?" Iroh asked carefully. "I never thought you would be one to expand Fire Nation territories any further than they already were."

"They attacked my sister," was the long and short of Zuko's answer. He gave one last glance to woman and child, and both glared seething hatred at him. "You will both be remanded to Ashfall prison in Sozin City, along with every soldier under your command. Be thankful I am not a cruel man; I could have sent you to Boiling Rock."

Zuko then turned and pulled Azula along, since her eyes, distant and unfocused, were now directed to the ground. He got a look from his uncle, one which clearly said 'I do not approve of this', but Zuko's course was clear. And he would be damned if he was going to abandon it. They hurt his sister, so he hurt them. There was a lovely symmetry in that. Azula muttered something viciously, in that language that she sometimes babbled in. Zuko wasn't the best educated on it, doubly so since nobody had ever seen it before. But he had learned enough to understand this, if not know what it meant.

She had said, "Let's see how that bastard fights without his heart."

He guided her toward the shore, slowly. She finally looked up at him, and spoke again. "I want to go home," she said, her voice small, like a little girl.

"We will. One day, we will," he promised. And with Agni as his witness, she would stand on black sand again.

---

Much the same way that C!Zuko would flip out on anybody who got between him and the Avatar, be it his crew, his uncle, his sister, whathaveyou, TF!Zuko reacts similarly to anybody who threatens Azula. Since he sees Aang as a means to keeping Azula safe and making her well, he's just about as driven as C!Zuko ever was. But since he had some of Azula rub off on him from years looking after her, and since he actually LISTENED to Iroh during his exile, he takes a different approach to it than 'attack attack attack'. He uses the law to his advantage. And that's actually kinda dangerous to the people he doesn't like. That was another thing which was tricky; making it seem like Zuko and Azula were actually siblings. It was a fine line to walk, only tread once in the series (the Beach, naturally), so extending that sort of mutally but prickly dorkiness between them took some doing. I still wonder if I got it right.

I admit, as much as I liked Canon's Suki/Sokka pairing, I can't find any new ground to tread with it. Thus, it is one ship which I tend to blow out of the water at the first possible opportunity. It's not done vindictively. In this case, it serves much the same purpose as I sunk the Kataang 'ship. Making it abundantly clear that this little trip through the Earth won't be what everybody's used to. The fact that much of the action follows the Badesh family (especially in early chapters, because they actually have to be created ex nihilo, whereas people have an understanding of what the Canon characters are like which only needs to be tweaked) is central to this. I will admit, hearing Shohreh Agdashloo and Robert Patrick talking about the World War is the sweetest thing to hold in one's mind if you can pull it off. Sooner or later, you'll meet her entire adventuring party from the old days. It has some familiar faces in it. And Nila starts getting an adventuring party of her own soon, so... like mother like daughter?

One more thing: Nobody's come close to guessing the big surprise of this series. Let's see how long before my observant viewers pick it out.

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