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.

26. The Puppetmasters

Note for the squeamish; this does get a bit brutal near the end. Malu's got no luck.

---

Hunger tore at her guts like a badgerdevil, its claws sinking into her gaunt and emaciated innards and rending with wild abandon, its insidious clutch reaching up her spine and right into the nerves at the backs of her eyes. She chewed mechanically, before swallow more of the foul tasting vegetation. It didn't help, not one bit. No matter how much passed her teeth, the hunger never went away. There was no satiation, no end to the starvation, just unending, terrible hunger.

"I don't understand," Malu said, unshed tears for the pain of it all still hanging in her eyes. "This isn't fair. Why am I still hungry?"

She stood, leaving the ravaged plantlife in her wake. She had once considered eating the leaves of a Oyo plant with some berries, for a salad. She didn't even bother collecting the berries; by the time she had those leaves in her hand, they called to her maw like a feast fit for kings. She ate them as fast as she could strip them from the ground, still dusty and unclean.

The hunger would not ebb, though. She continued walking, as the stink of rotting meat faded. It still lingered in her clothing, until she finally washed her kavi. Why she smelled so bad, she couldn't comprehend. But then again, she could be forgiven not; few spent weeks rotting untouched under the sun before lurching back to life. That she was unaware of it made it no less so. It was while she was washing her clothes, standing naked and smelly in the stream which ran up the length of the Great Divide, that she saw them. As she watched them, her hunger ratcheted up to a new, dizzying height, a whisper of demand in the back of her head. Feed. End the hunger. She shook her head, focusing just on the fish. Trouts, of a sort she couldn't name, since she never really cared about seaborne life back when there were still people to teach her. That stopped her in her tracks, that thought. When there were people to teach her. A hundred years. How could a hundred years have passed so quickly, so completely? So unnoticed? It bewildered her mind. But what kept repeating in her head, like a mocking litany, were five words, spoken with absolute certainty and clarity.

You are not the Avatar.

For sixteen years, and a hundred and sixteen, she'd just assumed that one day, Elder Tengeh and Gyatso would come to her and tell her the news she already knew in her heart. That she was the Avatar, the inheritor of the great Bequest of hundreds of generations of knowledge and power. That she would master the other three elements, and be the most powerful human being of her age. She'd like to say it wasn't pride blinding her to reality, but the fact was, that belief, that she was more than just an airbender nun, that drove her harder than anybody. Certainly harder than Vigo, who surpassed her in histories, and harder than Ormay, who sometimes was found asleep in the libraries. And definitely harder than lazy, layabout Aang; the ease at which that boy picked up skills was infuriating to her back then. But then he died, like all the rest, when the South Air Temple fell.

Only, one of them didn't. An airbender yet lived in this world, one which was not her. An Avatar. A real Avatar. She had tried thinking about who it might be, but the hunger always returned in greater and greater force, until it contained the whole of her thoughts, the whole of her mind. Hunger. Feed. Anything. Just to make the pain stop.

She had schooled herself to be perfect, to be the Avatar needed to stand against the coming storm. But now, the storm was already blowing over her, and she was not even the person who mattered. Whoever had that title, who ever had earned it through whatever unfair rule of inheritance Malu couldn't say, had a far worse challenge ahead of them than Malu had at filling her stomach. Or at least, so she assumed, until she started trying to.

At first, it was leaves. She ate the Oyo plant, roots and all. Then, she started eating herbs and tubers, ripped from the earth like some sort of miscegenated Azuli highlander, devouring them uncooked and unwashed. And it did not help. The pain of an empty stomach continued, and grew stronger. Soon, she'd 'graduated' to stripping the bark off of the stunted, water-hungry trees which clung to the edges of the river which traced the path of The Divide. And as much of that foul, resinous stuff went down her throat, she might as well be eating air. She pulled another fistful of the rancid crap and shoved it into her mouth, but this time, when she bit down, there was an unexpected crunch. She swallowed despite her intention, and tasted some sort of slick ichor. She looked down at her hand, and saw that amongst the scrub grasses were several large beetles. One or more of which were now sliding down her esophagus.

"It doesn't count," Malu said quietly, desperately. "Bugs don't count!"

Malu walked, and that tear began to leak out, with a stifled, undesired sob. It wasn't fair. She wanted to eat more, to empty that hand of litter and insects. It hurt all the time. Why was she so hungry? Malu walked to the east, and behind her, lay a devastated landscape, every whit of plant matter now slipped past her lips to no avail. Her blood screamed for blood, flesh, and sinews to slide past her tongue. And as she walked, she cried, because she didn't know what she was anymore.

---

"Well, this looks like it's the spot," On-Ji said suspiciously, eying her map and the flicker of the campfire through the hole the Tribesman had put in it. She didn't want to glare at the woman, since Shoji was right after all; responsibility to the fallen was a virtue of flame. She just protested to his treating this all like some big game. Yes, being away from home had a sort of exhilaration to it, but being out in the woods with a complete stranger – who couldn't even speak the same language – wasn't On-Ji's notion of any kind of good idea. She'd pointed out that if that Tribesman had been a man, Shoji probably would have handed him over to the army in a heartbeat. It just went to prove that when boys weren't thinking with their brains, which was most of the time, they were thinking with a much lower part of their anatomy. "I don't see anything though. Unless she's looking for trees, in which case, she's got all she'd ever want."

"Well, that map's to scale, right?" he asked. "It's probably nearby."

The Tribeswoman just huddled under the tent, trying to fan away the heat. While the rains had let up again this morning, and the unseasonable dryness – for all the humidity still made her sweat like she was under interrogation – held until that evening, the forest was still wet and miserable. Traveling with that Tribeswoman actually started On-Ji feeling slivers of compassion for her, for, if nothing else, they all shared a misery of walking through the woods under a downpour. She gave a glance to Shoji, who rolled his eyes.

"Let me guess, you want to let her wander the woods, since 'we've done enough'?" Shoji asked.

"Actually, I was going to say 'we might as well see this through to the end'," On-Ji answered. "But if you're going to scoop up your hat and call it an adventure..."

"Oh, don't be like that," Shoji said. He turned to the Tribeswoman and said something in her strange, guttural tongue. How he'd picked that up was a question for the ages. Or, On-Ji had later considered, he might have just read the intercepted intelligence that sometimes ended up in the military offices which he lurked about often enough. After all, having military parents meant access in some degree to military stuff. On-Ji knew for a fact that she wasn't getting into the military; as she was neither a firebender nor had any desire to drive one of those hideous, unsafe 'battletanks', she was quite content to remain on her island. The greatest luck in Shoji's life, though, was that he looked younger than he was; there was no chance he was going to sneak past the recruiters and lie his way into the army. It just seemed like the kind of thing which Shoji would do.

In fact, much of that same spirit was present here. "Shoji?"

"Yeah, Onj?" he asked.

"Onj?" On-Ji asked, but shook her head. "Nevermind. Why are you doing this. Really?"

"I told you..."

"Yeah, but that's not why you're really doing it. Tell me the truth. I deserve that much, don't I?" she asked.

"I..." Shoji shook his head. "It's hard to explain. It's like the moment I saw her wash up on the beach, there was this little voice in my head telling me that I needed to protect her, that she was important, that the world needed her."

"Really? And it wasn't that she was half naked and shaped like that?" On-Ji asked, with a smirk and a nod toward the woman in question.

Shoji favored her with the flattest of flat glares. "Y'know what, believe what you want to."

"Oh, come now," On-Ji said playfully. "The truth."

"I told you the truth," Shoji said defensively. On-Ji stared at him for a moment.

"Agni's blood you're not having me on, are you?" she asked, suddenly serious. "But... but that sounds like spirit stuff."

"Yeah, I know!" Shoji exclaimed, to the Tribeswoman's unsettlement. "But... what if it is? I mean, shamans aren't exactly... well appreciated around here."

"Yeah, well, most of them vanish without a trace," On-Ji pointed out. She cracked a smirk. "It's like the Beast of Grand Ember. You ever hear about that one? Some sort of powerful monster which stalks the forests of this very island, and its blood-lust brimming and waxing, until every month at the full moon, it can take no more. It goes out into the towns, and somebody vanishes without a trace..."

"Very funny, Onj," Shoji said. "But if you want to tell a scary story, try not to use one which obviously isn't true. Like the Man with a Sword for a Hand, or something. But some beastie – which is probably nothing weirder than a Komodo Rhinoceros – wandering around in the forest is hardly the scariest thing that I've ever heard–"

"Well, isn't this a strange sight?" a creaking voice came out of the woods, and all three of them gave a start and a yelp of alarm, On-Ji and Shoji so startled that they actually pulled together into a protective huddle. When they finally saw what approached the light of their fire, and beheld that it was a little old lady, On-Ji in particular felt a flush of embarrassment of being so childish and easy to scare, and broke away from Shoji. The old woman was white of hair, and weathered of face, her skin obviously dark from many, many years under unkind conditions. Her eyes were also quite bright. Very likely, this woman was a Gork from the Azuli Highlands. She heard that they still got regular sun, up there.

"Who are you?" Shoji asked.

"Oh, I'm nothing special," the old woman said. "But I must apologize for frightening you all. My name is Hama. I run an inn not far from here."

"You do?" Shoji asked. On-Ji leaned in.

"Maybe this is 'it'?" she asked. Shoji just gave her a wary glance.

"You children shouldn't be out here in the rain and darkness. Where are your parents?" Hama asked. She leaned aside, and gave an 'a-ha'. "Is that your mother, little one?"

"She's no mother to me," On-Ji said testily. A Tribesman for a mother? Not likely. The Tribeswoman in question leaned out of the tent she was offered, and Hama's eyes widened a bit. "Oh, a visitor from foreign lands? Well, my inn takes all kinds."

"Well, we don't exactly have much money," Shoji pointed out.

"It shouldn't be a problem," the old woman said amiably. "I'd almost have you for free just for the company. And besides, you must have heard about these woods," the smile she cast over her shoulder grew quite fell and dark. "They say when the moon is full, people walk into it, and never return."

Shoji and On-Ji shared a swallow, and a glance.

"But enough about that," Hama returned to chipper and bouncy tones in a heartbeat. "Come along. I'll make you all some spiced tea to run the chill straight out of your bones. And bring along your friend, too. I'm quite interested in hearing her story."

---

Chapter 6

The Puppetmasters

---

"Why haven't you tried to kill me yet?" Azula demanded, her glaring eyes on her uncle, where he sat contented before a tiny fire, holding a kettle over the flames.

"I could ask you the same question, and probably come to the same answer," Iroh said placidly. Azula continue to stare at him.

"The only reason I didn't knock your head is because I might need a hostage," she said.

"Lie," Iroh said. Azula scoffed.

"You wouldn't know my lies from your truths," Azula mocked.

"I might surprise you," the old man said. "Consider: it has been four days since you were attackd in Omashu, and I have not escaped. Why?"

"Because I have been vigilant," she said.

"You fell asleep," Iroh pointed out.

"I did no such thing," Azula snapped.

"Oh, but you did. So if I were a prisoner, I could have easily wrung your neck and walked away as you took a fitful and restless sleep," Iroh said as pleasantly as talking about tea. "It is hardly a threat; had I wished you dead, you would be, by now. But since you are not, and I have not, you must reach the inevitable conclusion that we are not prisoner and warden."

"You're trying to trick me somehow," Azula said warily.

"No, I'm simply tired of this masquerade," Iroh said, his eyes lighting sharply in that flame. "You know who I am, more than you should. You know of my friends, and what lay behind the Garden Gate. So who does that make you, you somewhat-Azula?"

"Why should I tell you?" Azula asked. "You already know enough."

"'Need-to-know' has claimed more lives than it has ever saved, especially in times such as these. Miscommunication kills, and it would destroy my nephew if you were to come to harm," he said. When she remained silent, he scowled. "This is not a request. You will tell me who you are."

"And what do I get in return?" she asked.

"Bargaining against your own uncle?" Iroh asked scandelously.

"Nothing in this family is free," Azula pointed out grimly. At that, Iroh could only sigh and nod.

"So it is," he acceded. "I could promise you much with words meaning little. Instead, I can offer you this, honestly; I will listen."

"What kind of price is that?" Azula asked.

"That'd be a change," the girl muttered morosely. Azula flicked a glance to her, where she was kicking at a rock buried near an intricately carved tree. "...nobody ever listens to me."

"What are you going on about? I had the utmost authority for years!" Azula snapped at her younger self.

"Nuh-uh," the girl answered. "You didn't have the childhood I did. And after, it just got worse!"

"You are a spoiled brat," Azula concluded, and reaffixed her attention to Iroh. "I agree."

"You do?" Iroh asked, genuinely surprised.

"I do?" Azula asked. She then glared at her younger self, who made a mocking gesture at her. Azula imagined doing dark, dark things to herself for a long moment before she realized how idiotic that was. "Of course I do," she then recovered. A glare at her younger half, then back to Iroh. "I am older than I look."

"That much was clear, and I will not have you retreading ground," Iroh said. "Where is Azula?"

"I don't follow your meaning."

"The Azula that she would have been," Iroh pressed. "The girl whose mind you have overtaken. Is she dead, or does she live?"

"She's..." Azula glanced to the side, where her younger self was pouting, "still around."

"Good," Iroh said, pouring that tea into a tin cup, which he'd produced from Agni only knows where. "Were she not, there would have been a problem."

"I don't like your tone," Azula said.

"I don't like your recklessness," Iroh answered. He sighed, and stared into his tea. "Perhaps a simpler way. I ask a question, you answer the question, and follow in suit. Would that be more palatable?"

"I've answered yours," Azula pointed out.

"So you have," Iroh agreed. "What do you want to know?"

"Why are you here, instead if with your precious Zuko?"

"Because Zuko is strong enough and wise enough now to survive without me. Because Qiao was right. I have duty to you which I have been neglecting. And more than that, you represent something which I have never seen nor heard of before. You have seen a possible future, one where the Fire Nation was not victorious. Part of me wants to know more about that future," he said with seeming perfect honesty. But then again, Azula knew full well the layers of cunning which the Dragon of the West wrapped himself in. "How did you take her body?"

"I died," she said. "At some point after that, I was approached by... something," Azula shook her head. "Why does this matter?"

"It might be the most important thing on this planet, please continue," Iroh said evenly.

"His name was Irukandji. Some sort of spirit. He claimed he was some sort of traveler, that he could give me a new chance, a fresh start without the tragedies or heartbreaks, and in exchange he'd... 'surf me'. He lied, obviously, since he dumped me here, in a broken eight year old, a world where I am reviled and pitied and outcast! This is not a fresh start, it is a prison!"

"I see," Iroh said.

"Now my question," Iroh shrugged, but she pressed on. "You've stolen my lightning from me twice before. How? What trickery is that? And how did Zuko do it to Father at the Day of Black Sun?"

"So... of course you would know of that Dark Day. You've already lived it," Iroh said with a shrug. "Redirecting lightning is a skill which I cultivated uniquely, studying the waterbenders of the North Water Tribe when I was young. I taught your brother – or rather, her brother – the skill shortly after his exile, as I believed that my brother would try to finish the job he started. Apparently I have done much the same where you come from. It is not something which can be told, but only shown."

"I'll hold you to that," Azula swore.

"Why do you want to know how to redirect lightning? I admit, I was somewhat astonished to see you mastering the cold-blooded fire, but knowing as I know now, it was likely not her mastery, but yours, which shone through."

"I was always the greatest firebender of my generation. I learned how to bend lightning while still a young girl," Azula said cockily. "Only Father was better at it, and in time, I would have surpassed him, too. Well, if that jack-booted tyrant the Avatar hadn't torn his soul out." Iroh raised a brow at that, but didn't press that question. "Why does your Order support the Avatar?"

"We support balance, peace, knowledge, and beauty," Iroh said. "Usually, we have to check against the Avatar. Obviously in your life, we had to work with him. It must have been a matter of monumental importance; overt action has never been our strongest sword, and quite seldom do we move on the side of greatest power. I have only one more question," Iroh said, leaning forward, taking a deliberative sip of his tea. "Did you reap your revenge, before your death? Or was your thirst unsatiated?"

Azula gave a bitter laugh. "There were so many who stood in my way," she said. "First, her father's wife, then her father himself. Then, the earthbender, then Mai. She backed down. The rest of them, after her? They didn't. I killed my way through almost the whole of the Avatar's social circle before I blasted that murderous bitch into ashes. Remarkable how a spouse's death can make a 'pacifistic monk' as psychotic and murderous as an 'insane firebending sociopath'."

Iroh leaned back. "So if you had your revenge, why are you still seeking it?" he asked.

Azula didn't have an answer for that.

---

"This isn't bad, even if it is a bit weird," Shoji said pleasantly. "Are these ocean kumquats?"

"Yes," Hama answered, as she slowly lowered herself into her seat. "I find that if you stew them just right, they make a dish which very much reminds me of home."

"You're not from Ember, that's obvious," On-Ji said. Shoji rolled his eyes. She sometimes got like an eel-hound with a bone about things. He just hoped it wasn't that, now. "You certainly don't look like an Embiar."

"Oh, I'm from somewhere else, colder, not quite as crowded," Hama said. "A place where you can see the sun at least half of the year."

"See, I told you she was a Gork," On-Ji said, leaning toward Shoji.

"Don't call them that," Shoji corrected her. "It's impolite."

"Oh, I don't mind," Hama piped up. "Your friend, she doesn't say much."

"She's just like that, I guess," Shoji gave a shrug. "So how'd an Azuli end up running an inn on Grand Ember?"

Her eyes sparked for a moment, but it was a distant thing, like something she didn't want to remember, but now, couldn't not. "When I was young, not much older than you, I was taken from my homeland by the Fire Nation military. I was a bender, and they demanded all benders serve them. But I wouldn't. So they imprisoned me, put me in a horrible prison for many years," she said, painfully.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Shoji said. "I heard that Fire Lord Azulon did some horrible things, but to our own people?"

"And worse to others," Hama said. "I would lay awake at night, in that baking heat, cursing the name Azulon, waiting for my freedom. Waiting for death. For decades, I wallowed in that dark, horrible place, while my brothers and sisters who stood beside me in resisting died one by one. I was the only one who walked away from that prison," she hung her head.

"Nobody should do that to anybody," Shoji declared, shaking his head. "Not even an enemy should get treated that terribly. And he did that to his own people? No wonder people hated Azulon."

"Shoji!" On-Ji said. "You shouldn't speak ill of the dead."

Shoji balked at that. "Yeah, you're right, I shouldn't," he admitted. He turned back to the old woman. "So... why here? Why didn't you go home? Were you afraid they'd take you again?"

"No, by the time I was free, that Fire Lord made his point," Hama spat with venom. "But there were those in my home who turned me away. They were afraid of the 'trouble I'd bring with me'. Even in freedom, I was cast out. I had nowhere else to turn. So I came here. At least here, I have something, as little as it is."

On-Ji sighed. "I apologize for the boy. We shouldn't have brought it up, since it's obviously so painful for you."

"You show an old woman an unexpected courtesy, little girl," she said, with a painful smile on her weathered face. She gave a glance toward the emptied bowls they'd had their dinner in. "By all means, go up to your rooms. You look like you could use a proper bed to sleep in, after so long in the woods. I'll just be down here cleaning up."

"Thank you, mistress Hama," On-Ji said with a traditional bow. Shoji did likewise, and since he did, he couldn't see the disdainful scowl light upon Hama's features as they did. "Come on, Ma'am. Let's get you settled."

"Oh, she can help me with the dishes," Hama said breezily.

"If you need help, I can..." Shoji instantly interjected. Huuni couldn't speak a word of Huojian. Once that became obvious – which would be almost instantaneous – the gig was up.

"Nonsense, this is a woman's duty. Go, rest with your friend," Hama bade.

"No, really, I'd be much happier if..."

"You should heed your elders, boy," Hama's tone had a lace of threat in it, and her pale eyes took on a warning light. Shoji swallowed, but backed away. He backed into On-Ji, which caused her to utter a 'hey' of annoyance, before the two of them left the room.

"Oh, man, this is bad," Shoji said.

"I know," On-Ji agreed. "She's hiding something. Or lying about something."

"Not that!" Shoji whispered urgently. "Huuni can only speak her own language! And Hama's going to freak out when she realizes that!"

"Hmm, you might be right about that," On-Ji then smiled slyly. "Or maybe that's what she came all this way for, to talk to an Azuli woman. How much do you want to bet she's a shaman, that old woman?"

"I thought only the Avatar was a bender and a shaman?" Shoji said, scratching at his head.

"Hey, does it look like I know the rules of magic-y stuff?" On-Ji said. "Just calm down. As long as that's what she's hiding, we shouldn't have any problems," she said, walking upstairs.

Shoji shook his head, watching after her. But on a hunch, he turned back, pressing his ear against the door that they'd just vacated. And inside, he could hear talking. Specifically, he could hear Huuni talking.

"You are not from this continent," Huuni said in her native tongue, causing Shoji to 'eep' with fear.

"You are right, cousin," Hama answered back in that same language, which turned Shoji's 'eep' to a 'whuh?'. "You are much better attired than I would expect from the South Water Tribe. So, you must be from the North. I heard what happened to your people."

"You did? What happened?" Huuni asked, urgently.

"The Fire Nation cast down the North Water Tribe. The Tribe of your mothers and grandmothers is no more," Hama said with a regretful tone. "They destroy and destroy, and nobody ever stands against them."

"How did you get here? Really?" Huuni asked. "Who are you?"

"I am as you are, a refugee surrounded by hated enemies," Hama said. There was a pause. "Hmm. I think we should speak more in the barn. This room is too small."

Shoji's eyes shot wide, and he waited, as the sound of a door opening, then latching shut sounded. Then, he started to slink upstairs, sweat pounding out of his brow.

---

Zuko wished he could have claimed that he didn't scream when the room inverted and dumped him onto the stone floor. He wished, because the universe didn't see fit to fulfill that desire. The cell they'd dumped him into was rough and tiny, and quite dark. The whole prison was an odd, sideways cylinder, devised so that it would rotate under the power of its earthbending jailors to make escape utterly impossible for those who couldn't move rock with their fists and feet. They'd obviously chose the least comfortable way to disgorge him from his cell; instead of opening the wall and allowing him to walk out, they'd opened what amounted to his floor.

"This is the prisoner, King Bumi," the soldier said.

"Really? I thought he'd be taller," the crackling, reedy voice came, followed by a snort and a cackle, which ended abruptly. "Are you sure this is the right one? I thought I told you to send him to the recently-renovated-chambers-which-used-to-be-the-bad-chambers-but-are-now-better-than-the-good chambers?"

"No, you said 'bad-chamber'," the soldier answered. The king shrugged.

"Oh, well. That's the aristocracy for you," he leaned in a bit closer, as though offering confidential advice behind his hand. "Never trust a government, am I right?"

"You are your government," Zuko pointed out humorlessly.

"And do you trust me?"

"No."

"EXCELLENT!" The King launched into cackling, snorting laughter, only ending when it was apparent that everybody in the room was as uncomfortable as Zuko was, which was a hard task since Zuko had spent the last few days sleeping on rocks.

"What do you want?" Zuko asked flatly.

"Want? Oh, right," the King drew himself upward, under his purple robes. "I have come to pass sentence upon you."

Zuko sighed, and got to his feet. At the least, he would face his fate upright.

"I pronounce you not-guilty," the King said without preamble or ceremony. All of the soldiers turned to him as though he was stark raving mad. Zuko felt a similar desire.

"King Bumi, what are you saying?"

"I can't just imprison somebody because of the country they were born in. It's unconstitutional!"

"We... don't have a constitution."

"Oh, right, I do have to get around to writing that, don't I?" Bumi said, scratching at his sprig of grey beard. "Anyway, I'm not going to be as cruel a lawyer as my neighbors. Imprisoning or executing somebody simply because he might be a firebender is absurd as jailing a man for having the wrong colored eyes, or having one too many freckles. Absurd!"

"But this isn't just a firebender, King Bumi! This is the Fire Lord's son!"

"I can't be giving preferential treatment because of somebody's family ties," Bumi said with an offended tone. "I do not allow nepotism in my city state!"

"But..."

"There is no time for buts!" Bumi declared. Then, with a subtle motion, he waved Zuko toward the doors. "Go on, then. Enjoy free air in your lungs."

"Right..." Zuko said, starting to walk past him. This whole thing had to be some sort of set up. And that suspicion twigged closer to true when the guardsman at the door blocked his way. "He said..."

"King Bumi, are you sure about this?" that guardsman said.

"Are you falsely imprisoning this poor boy?" Bumi's voice was not approving in its tone. The man gave Zuko a glance, like he knew his duties, and that they had him pincered. As a subject of the distant Earth King, he was bound to restrain Zuko. As a subject of King Bumi, he was ordered to release him. It was the closer of two monarchs who won the day, and with a sigh, the man let Zuko pass. Zuko strode out of the prison, into the lobby beyond it. A mousey-looking Eastern lady was standing nearby with a bundle.

"Excuse me, sir? You were due for release today, yes?" she asked. Zuko just stared at her. "These are your personal effects. The King wanted them returned to you at once."

"...thank you," Zuko said flatly, taking back his things. He walked woodenly into the sunlight, and down the many streets, toward the wall which would take him out of this insane city with its even-more insane king. But that whole walk, his mind felt leaden and stuffed with angry bees. Their droning was the droning of his indecision, of his doubt, of his pointlessness. For all these years, he had slaved to keep Azula safe, to keep her happy; it had become his reason for waking up in the morning. He didn't have much family, but it was whole. And now, she didn't want him. Worse, she seemed to out right despise him!

Zuko wasn't weeping as he started walking the stone bridge back to the mainland, but that was because he didn't have the strength left in him. What was he supposed to do now?

What was Zuko without Azula? He turned his head down, and golden eyes went dark.

---

"A barn? I can think of a dozen better places to talk. Of course, five of those are in worthwhile climates," Huuni said with a note of complaint.

"And you are scarcely one to say it," Hama immediately replied. "After all, I might be outcast from my homeland, but yours no longer exists."

"That requires some explanation," Huuni said suspiciously.

"What explanation is there?" Hama asked with a shrug. "The Fire Nation attacked, overwhelmed you, and destroyed you. Anybody who tries to 'fight fair' against those monsters meets the same fate."

"It's just... the last thing I remember was hearing that the Fire Nation was turning their eyes north. Then... I was waking up on the beach."

"That was six years ago," Hama said. She tilted her head in suspicion. "How is it that you can lose six years of your life?"

"I've lost a year or so before, but never this many at once," Huuni said, fiddling with her hair. "He always rests sooner or later. And when he does..."

"He? Who is 'he'?" Hama asked.

Huuni smiled then, an absent and distant smile "Irukandji. He promised me eternal life and eternal youth, and for more than a century, he delivered."

"So you are a shaman? And a Host?" Hama asked.

"Of course, you foolish old woman. And you are a waterbender."

Hama let out a chuckle at that. "What gave me away? I do try to be more careful in not letting it... slip."

Huuni paused, one finger raised to make her point, and said nothing, because she had no point to make. Or rather, she didn't know how she had the point she did. "I'm not sure," she said. "I just knew, somehow."

"Perhaps this Irukandji has some talents you lack. Can I speak to him, or do I speak to him already?"

Huuni turned away in shame. "He is... missing. There are moments where I can almost sense him, but then he is gone. He is badly hurt, and if I can't find a way to restore him..."

"Then you will lose everything he gave you," Hama said, her tones slipping down into malevolence. "Lose your beauty, lose your vitality, and then lose your life."

Huuni could only nod at that. She did eventually summon the will to speak again, though. "Why are you here, though? Why didn't you go home?"

"So the boy was right in that you don't speak that barbarous 'fire-tongue'. I hate repeating myself," she snapped. But after a moment, "...but I can tell you what I didn't tell him. I was cast out, that's true. By High Chief Qejay, the master of the South Water Tribes. I told him how I escaped my prison, and he thought it 'unnatural', and 'evil'."

Huuni's eyes lighted with curiosity. "How did you escape the Benders' Prisons? I heard that they were practically inescapable."

"They were," Hama agreed, and cracked the door to the barn, letting the slim light from the full moon in, all the more paltry for the clouds it tried so hard to shine through. "When the took me, it was more than sixty years ago. Before this rain came and made a mockery of their homeland. They visited cruel tortures onto us, hoping to break our wills. They would blast us with hot, dry air every hour of the day, and bind us hand and foot before giving us anything to drink, so we could not bend."

"Those monsters. Somebody should slit their throats while they sleep!" Huuni snarled. Hama smiled at that.

"Oh, but that prison did give me something that nobody before has had. You know of the power of the moon, Shaman?" Huuni nodded. "Every month, the full moon's power flowed into me, even in that wretched wallow. And in time, I discovered a vital secret about water; everywhere there is life, there is water. And with the full moon strengthening my arm, I could command it, even within the fleshy bags which contained it. First, I practiced with rats. And then, I moved on to man."

"You bent their very blood?" Huuni asked, impressed.

"Yes. The ultimate waterbending technique; bloodbending," Hama said, her tones as black as the back of the barn they stood in. "There is no great victory against the Fire Nation. The fall of Summavut proves that. But we can make them suffer, forever. My own people shunned me, thinking my 'puppeteering' was a sin against the gods. But you... you have a more enlightened mindset."

Huuni nodded. "They must pay for what they've done to us."

"I was a warrior first, in my youth," Hama said. "Fighting was in my blood then, and is now. But I believe I might be able to heal this spirit in you. It is a water spirit?"

"No... I think it's made of lightning," Huuni corrected.

"Hmm. Not so easy, but it should still be possible," Hama pondered. "But Irukandji's power, it is great, is it not?"

"Very great," Huuni agreed eagerly.

"Excellent," Hama said. "With the power of the spirits on our side, we can wreak a terrible vengeance upon these murderers and scoundrels. They will lose their safety, their dignity, and then, their very lives."

"And that day will be glorious," Huuni said, grinning widely, if only because she was going to be made whole again.

Inside her skull, though, a tiny, tiny part of her brain tried very hard not to sigh.

---

Shoji pounded on the door to the room On-Ji had claimed as her own personal fief. "Come on, Onj! Wake up!"

"Go away, I'm trying to sleep," On-Ji's voice came from within, muffled by what was likely a pillow.

"But this is important!" Shoji shouted.

"Not as important as my sleep. Go away," On-Ji said. Shoji backed away, muttering under his voice at the irrationality of women. Or, upon a moment's review and specification, the irrationality of On-Ji.

"Fine, I'll show you what I'm talking about," he said, and began to ascend yet higher, into the third story of the inn. He quickly darted through each of the rooms up here, one of them obviously having been set aside for Hama herself. He was going to search it, but it was so spartan compared to the rest that there was effectively nowhere to hide something save under the bed. After Shoji elimitated that option, he gave the hall itself a second glance. "A-ha!" he declared, moving to a pantry, and with a mighty heave, pulling it open. His 'a-ha' was followed by an 'argh!' as he was immediately assaulted.

By wooden puppets. Shoji glanced through protective fingers, up at the dead-eyed, wooden faces which loomed down at him, utterly still, only their lifeless arms swaying from the momentum of the cupboard's opening. He glanced to and fro, and noting that none had seen his embarrassment, opted to close the puppets back into place before anybody noticed. He scratched at his hair, trying to figure this out. He finally saw above him, dangling near the end of a hall, a slip of rope. A glance behind him confirmed that he was alone, so he bounded up and caught the thing, pulling down some sort of automatic ladder which proceeded to brain him.

Shoji slowly shook the stars from his vision, where he was crouched in the hall. "Note to self," Shoji said. "Don't stand directly under a doorway again."

A last shake of his head, and then he started to ascend. The uppermost floor of the inn was such a separate beast from the lower that Shoji felt an urge to glance back down below, to confirm that that building and this were both part of the same structure. Where the hall below was all fine panels and tasteful hangings, up here, the décor was savage and brutal. Raw skins made up rugs. Bones abounded from the rafters and made up a grisly portion of the furniture. It was almost like this whole room was an attempt to shock and unsettle any civilized viewer. That being the case: mission accomplished.

Shoji quickly moved up into the room, and began to outright rummage. After all, he needed something to convince On-Ji of his story, and his word probably wasn't going to be enough to convince a sleepy teenaged girl. He found a shredded standard with some sort of flower on it, but it probably didn't mean anything. After all, anything not shredded up here was once something that did shredding. He stopped counting how many predatory animals were up here in pelt form after they surpassed his ability to count on two hands, and he'd barely gone through a quarter of the 'more dangerous' natives of Azul by then. But at the far end from the stairwell, there was a plinth. Upon that plinth was a box. And Shoji's eye was drawn to that box like a buttermoth to a candle.

He crossed that distance in a heartbeat, and began to heave at the box. "Huh. I don't see a keyhole," he muttered to himself. He looked at the symbols on its top, but couldn't identify them. Somehow, though, even as he shook his head, their meaning came to him. Hama, student of Apkallu, daughter of Aihu and Kohram. Service to Chimney Mountain. How he got all of that from these simplistic runes, Shoji couldn't say, but somehow, he did. And as he fiddled with it, he felt a clicking sensation in the box. A subtle change in the layout of the box? The thing was a puzzle?

"Shouldn't 'a made it a puzzle," Shoji said brashly, as he began to set about manipulating the box more intensely. And as he did, he felt it further shifting, until with a soft click, the top panel of the box slid off, revealing its secrets. Which were depressingly mundane. Just a scroll and some sort of necklace, depicting switchbacked crescent moons, nested inside each other. He paused for a moment. Something Dad told him about them. What was it? "Come on, this is important. Sis asked them about how they got married, and they..." Shoji waved that part away, since it wasn't relevant. "And then he laughed, and said that in the Tribes, they'd... Give the girl a necklace."

His eyes went wide, and then he unfurled the scroll. It was in the same argot runes as the box itself had been. And the figures depicted in simplistic line style could only be waterbenders. "I knew it! Hama's a Tribesman!"

Shoji took the stairs down two at a time, and in a matter of moments was pounding at On-Ji's door once more. "On-Ji, open the door, I've got something you've got to see!"

Shoji could hear muttering coming closer, until the door opened up a crack and a baleful, tired eye peered out. "This had better be good, Shoji. I need my sleep."

"Downstairs, I heard Hama talking to Huuni, in Huuni's own language."

"I'm going back to bed," On-Ji said distantly.

"NO WAIT!" Shoji cried. "And when I looked upstairs, I found this!"

"You found jewelry? Congratulations, you're a burglar," she said drowsily.

"No, not that – well, yes that, too, but not the way you think – just look at this!" Shoji forced the scroll through the doorway, and On-Ji took it, holding it to the light. At that, her disgruntled mutterings fell away. "Yeah, that's a waterbending scroll, I think!"

"She had this?" she asked, finally opening the door fully. Shoji was nodding intently. "Yeah, but that hardly makes her..."

"This is a Water Tribe betrothal necklace; Dad told me about them," Shoji said, showing the necklace once more. "One, and she's a collector. Two, she's an avid collector. Two, in the room I found them in, then she's pining for the fjords."

"He's not wrong," Hama's voice came down the hall, causing both youths to start back with a yelp of shock. Huuni was standing behind her, arms crossed before her magnificent bosom. "I was born in the Water Tribes. And I was cast out of them."

"So you're a spy!" On-Ji declared. Hama laughed at that. It was not a happy laugh.

"Oh, the stupidity of youth," Hama muttered.

"But if you're a Water Tribesman, then you can help her," Shoji cut off On-Ji before she said anything else relations-damaging. "You must be who she was looking for."

Hama smiled, darkly. "Oh, I believe I am," she said. "With her powers and mine, I will finally be able to do what I've wanted to for so many years."

"Go home?" Shoji asked.

"No. Rid the world, of people like you," she said.

"People like..." Shoji asked, and then glanced at On-Ji. He gaped for a moment. "Wow. So this is what going mad feels like."

"I know, I'm surprised I'm right my own self," On-Ji admitted. She glanced back to the two Tribesmen. "RUN!"

Shoji turned on his heel and began to sprint toward the window at the end of the hall. It would be a hard fall, but it was only the second story, and he knew he could roll with it. He hadn't spent all those years recklessly leaping off of his shed roof without learning how to tuck and move. But for all his lofty aspirations, he only made if five steps, before his leg cramped solid. He tried hopping the rest of the way, but the other leg was as immobile as the first. His eyes bugged wide, and he felt his arms twist him around, quite painfully, so that he was almost facing the two Tribesmen behind. He could see that On-Ji had followed his advice, and was about a step behind him, but was likewise trapped immobile and still. "What are you doing! I feel really weird!"

"Behold, Huuni, the power of bloodbending," Hama said in her native tongue as she gestured broadly, her arthritic fingers now straight and powerful. "The ultimate power, to turn all flesh to your will. I can control their bodies, and you can control their minds. We will be unstoppable."

"Huuni, why?" Shoji asked. "We were trying to help you!"

The Tribeswoman scowled at him. It was hard to believe he ever thought her attractive. "I've gotten all the help I need from your kind, hotman."

Then, Shoji's legs began to march him out of the hallway, only one thought reflected around inside Shoji's mind. What the heck was a 'hotman'?

---

"Momma? Momma, why're you cryin'?" a little girl's voice asked, confused.

"I'm watching my dreams die."

Azula started awake, fire flashing from her fingertips as she clawed her way out from under the blanket. It singed the cloth somewhat, but she didn't care. The nights were the worst part. As much as she had constant nightmares after Chiyo's death, toward the end, they had... not abated, but mellowed. So that she lost only one night in seven to nightmares, rather than one in two. It took a long moment for Azula's mind to burn away the proverbial cobwebs enough to note that she had, in fact, had a blanket over her. Which was unusual since she had no recollection of going to sleep. After all, she had to guard her prisoner...

"I see you have awakened," Iroh said placidly from his place by the fire. As before, there was a pot of tea, but this one lay at the old man's side, while a selection of nuts roasted in the pan. "These nuts are either poplar-nuts, which are sweet and nourishing, or else grave-nuts, which cause vomiting and irrational terror," He tugged idly on his beard. "I'm not sure I remember which."

"What are you still doing here?" Azula demanded.

"Trying to prepare breakfast," Iroh said.

"I mean why did you not flee in the night while I was unconscious?" Azula amended humorlessly.

"Why would I?" Iroh asked.

"You're my prisoner!" Azula snapped, getting to her feet. Iroh looked up at her without fear, which was all the more aggravating on Azula's part.

"I am only prisoner if I consider myself so. I know you could not imprison me," Iroh said.

"Strong words from an old man," Azula said. "If I wanted to, I could strike you down before you could even finish blinking."

Iroh smiled at her. "No. You would try, but you would not."

"STOP BEING SO DAMNED CALM!" Azula shrieked.

"Why?" Iroh asked. "You are the last person I would have expected to lose control so quickly, or so easily. Especially... as you are now."

"I am calm!" Azula snapped, but knew the lie of it even as it left her throat. Much as she hated to admit, Iroh was right. She woke up off her balance, and had done nothing to regain it since then. She took a moment to stew and glare at Iroh, who looked so interminably smug. "So. You are here. And you are going to fight the Avatar."

"I am going to aid you," Iroh said, which wasn't quite agreement, and Azula knew it. "I just want to know that you're doing this for the right reasons, and that it will not harm the girl who ought be here."

"She is immaterial in this," Azula said.

"I beg to differ," Iroh contended. "Without that girl, weak as you believe her to be, things would have been very different, and mostly for the worse," he took a stick sitting beside him and began to draw circles in a curved line in the dirt. He pointed to the first. "You are a firebender at the age of four, and spend the next four years making Zuko look like an ignorant peasant in his birthright," he then dragged a line to the second. "You inspire envy in him," the next. "Zuko's anger becomes malignant, as your mother's balancing presence disappears. He turns against you," the next circle down that line. "My brother encourages conflict between you and your brother, seeing Zuko as weak and worthless. He prepares an assassination attempt for him," he then points to the penultimate circle. "Zuko moves against you. You strike back. Zuko is injured, and publicly humiliated and dishonored. You displease Ozai, deferring yourself from being exactly what he wanted because you begin to chafe under the pressure, as you always have."

"I never displeased..." Azula began, but Iroh's eyes cut her off, and then, he drew a final line, cleaving that last circle in half.

"Ozai is outraged by your continued disobedience, and banishes you, if not outright kills you. Zuko returns to usurp Ozai and takes what would have been your place in the line of inheritance, before finally moving against me. He would be as corrupt as the man who fathered him, and their father before them."

"That would never happen," Azula said solidly.

"Every indication was that it would. Every sign pointed down this path. I groomed Lu Ten to be a better man than my father had been, but in that, I twice failed," Iroh said. "Once, in that he died, and twice, in that he was Ozai's puppet when he did. And had he died, the path would have remained unaltered. I admit my earliest interest was to turn Zuko into my agent rather than my brother's... But something else happened," Iroh said, moving back to the second circle in the arc, then drawing new circles in a straight line. He began to connect them. "The Azula that you inhabited fell sick, no doubt of your doing. Zuko was unbalanced by Ursa's abandonment, but came to value his sister over his father's approval. Rather than see Zuko fall into iniquity and evil, I could council him, and do with him what I failed with Lu Ten. Qiao gave much the same to you, despite your unpleasant beginnings. Finally," he reached the end of the new line. "You are both banished, but by then, Zuko values you above any other life on this planet. He sabotages his own honor and his own inheritance to protect you."

"Then Zuko was a fool," Azula said, sitting down before the fire.

"He has taken foolish actions, but a man is only a fool if he does not know them so," Iroh said. "Your disruptive presence saved two lives. Your brother's, and your own. To this day, Princess Azula is seen as a figure of sympathy and compassion both at home and abroad. A victim of a cruel, malicious father. You have given a new path, and a new option forward which did not exist before. I intend to see it taken to its logical end."

"Which is?" Azula asked, already knowing the answer.

"The end of the War," Iroh said. "A new Fire Lord."

"So you are a traitor in this world as well as that one," Azula muttered.

"What are the Virtues of Fire?" Iroh snapped. Azula glared at him, but began.

"Ambition. It drives us to succeed."

"Yes, and?" Iroh prompted.

"Perseverance, to withstand what obstacles bar our path. Dedication, since anything worth doing will not come easily. Honesty, for a liar's word is worth less than nothing. Honor, which sets us above the cretins and the animals."

"Go on," Iroh said.

"Patience, since rashness leads to ruin. Valor, even in the face of overwhelming defeat. Selflessness, and the giving of oneself to others. Canny, for the fool falls prey far too easily. And yes, Loyalty. Is that the point you're trying to make?" Azula asked, even though she was mildly surprised that she could rattle that all off so easily.

"It's 'cause I paid attention," the girl said smugly.

"Quiet, you."

"Not quite," Iroh said. "You missed one."

"I did?" the girl asked, confused.

"Responsibility," Iroh explained. "It is one thing to have loyalty to my family. Even base criminals can be loyal to those close to them. But responsibility, as embodied in Virtue, is a different beast," Iroh took and poured a cup of tea. "Responsibility is not just sacrificing for something, it is becoming something. If you call me a traitor to the Fire Nation, then you are simply and abjectly wrong. I do not betray my nation. I am my nation. And I will see it become something better than it has fallen to."

Azula glared at him. "So you want 'what's best' for the Fire Nation? And you resist my father?"

"Yes, and yes," Iroh said. "I could not do the first without the second. Tell me, Azula. Why do you worship that man?"

"Father is strong, and he made me strong," Azula said.

"Ozai is weak, and all the weaker after his disastrous war in the North," Iroh said. "Yours may have been stronger, but this is the reality you must live with. And it is the reality she," Iroh said, pointing at Azula herself, "will have to live with once you are gone."

Azula rolled her eyes at that pronouncement, but her eyes became keen again a moment later. "So what happens now?"

"Now, you will go to Ba Sing Se," Iroh said. "And I will go with you."

"And why would I do something so reckless?" Azula asked, hedging.

"Because you said you would. Because you know the Avatar will be there, and your enemies as well. Because you believe that you can change things to your better," Iroh said easily, breaking off to sip at his tea. "And when you do, you know that the only way you can succeed is if you are not alone."

"We shall see, old man; we shall see," Azula promised darkly. If Iroh would work with her, instead of against her... but he had an angle. He always did. She would just have to find it before he could use it against her.

Just like old times.

---

The thump and crash of a body slamming into the ground was all the rousing that Bato got, but then again, he'd learned to sleep during the strangest of times as a matter of survival. And it wasn't even so bad as it was when he'd first landed in this cell; he'd broken the chains which attached to the wall, and those 'Dai Li' never bothered replacing them. Why would they? They had a mountain of stone and iron between the two middle aged men and the light of day. And they had something far, far more precious. Time. All the time they needed.

"So another day gone, and you're not dead?" Bato noted, taking a moment to cough out the phlegm in his throat. Of course he got sick upon mild torture. The universe loved to mess with him, and there were few things less pleasant than a nasty head-cold. It was certainly worse than the treatment he received from Long Feng's men's best efforts – a fact which Bato delighted in telling them at every opportunity.

Piandao was silent on the ground.

"Or not?"

"I live," Piandao finally said, before pushing himself up and slouching against the wall next to Bato. "You know, I think they're beginning to grow tired of us."

"I know. The last brainwashing session wasn't half as long as the one before," Bato said deadpan. "I guess my winning personality is starting to shine."

Piandao didn't chuckle at that. He just glared ahead of him, at the wall of greenish stone, broken only by a black door. Bato shook his head wearily. "Have you seen what happened to Sativa?" Bato asked.

"No," Piandao answered tersely. "I'm worried. Who knows what twisted uses he'd have for a brainwashed woman."

"Long Feng?" Bato asked. "Trust me, he's got no use for a brainwashed woman. Brainwashed man, on the other hand?"

"I doubt he'd go so low," Piandao muttered. Bato raised a brow at him. "Yes, despite your implication, I do believe there are evils beneath that man."

Bato sat in uncomfortable silence, which suited well the uncomfortable uncomfortableness, and pondered a moment, his eyes flicking over to the only person left in this city who didn't want to kill him. And even then, he might be wrong about that.

"Have you got some sort of problem with me?" Bato asked.

"Is this the time to worry about that?" Piandao asked.

"Well, we don't lack for time, and you're a captive audience. So please, what's your problem with me?"

"And here I thought the interrogation had ended," Piandao said sarcastically, which was rare form for him.

"I'm serious, Piandao. Things have been cold between you and I. Ever since that last boondoggle, you've treated me like I had open sores. So what is your problem with me?"

Piandao ground his teeth for a moment, but after that moment, finally turned toward Bato. "You want to know my problem with you?" he asked caustically. "It's what you did to Sati."

Bato leaned back at that. "What did I do to Sativa?" Bato asked, genuinely confused.

"Don't be coy. You took advantage of her grief!" Piandao shouted.

"Oh... that," Bato said. "I wasn't taking advantage of her."

"Really?" Piandao demanded. "So you didn't mount her in her time of need?"

"It didn't happen like that," Bato said more clearly. "Why would it? Piandao, I was happily married! I had an infant daughter at home when you brought me back in for 'one more adventure'. And I was not 'hiding lascivious thoughts' about her. Sativa is my friend, and has been for many years, but she is not more than that. I love Seelai. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that."

"But you were unfaithful to her," Piandao noted.

Bato shook his head, breathing deeply and painfully. "There was a reason things turned out as they did. Sativa was a mess. We hadn't just failed, but failed spectacularly. You have seen what she's like when her confidence gets shaken?" Piandao nodded. "Her confidence had been smashed into splinters, and the splinters ground into dust. The things he did to her... It's astounding she came out sane. But then again, if she survived her childhood, she could survive anything. And you were gone. We all thought you were dead, and had very good reason to. She was in tears."

"Sati does not cry," Piandao said.

"She was in tears," Bato stressed. "She needed someone to 'get the feeling of his hands off' of her. I tried to tell her to be strong, for you, but... Gods above, it was so painful, seeing her like that. She begged me to..."

"Sati does not beg," Piandao stressed.

"She begged," Bato once again countered. He sighed. "It wasn't what I wanted. It was uncomfortable. Awkward. Probably as painful to her as it was to me. It might have given her a new level after her sundering, but it became a secret which I swore then and now that I will carry to my grave. Seelai will never learn of that. Ever."

"She begged," Piandao said quietly. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

"Because I didn't want Sativa's shame to spread," He shook his head. "The only other one who knows about that is Joo Dee, and I don't think she's going to be telling anybody any time soon. Come on, Piandao. Everybody knew that the only man in her life was you! Her children are your children, even if you didn't father them."

"You sound awfully sure of that," Piandao's voice remained quiet.

"I got home just in time to lose my daughter to the Fire Nation," Bato said. "My life's been painful. So has yours. Sati's probably got all of us beat on that front. So why did you just leave her? She needed you."

Piandao's head hung. "I didn't know. Any of this."

"Because you didn't ask," Bato said. "It's surprising that you've got a 'grand' in front of your title and I don't."

"If you could do it again..."

Bato shook his head. "If I could do again with what I know now, of course I'd do things differently. I'd take Sativa and Joo Dee, ride to where your lacerated behind was trapped under that wagon, and let you and that woman have the tearful reunion you needed to have. As I hear it, it'd have done little Nila a world of good to have a father."

"Nila doesn't sound like a Si Wongi name," Piandao noted.

"It's her nickname," Bato said. He paused. "Come to think of it, I can't remember what her real name is."

Piandao told him.

"Oooh. Wait, how do you know that?" Bato asked. Piandao's bruised, lacerated face had a slight smile on it as he stared into the distance beyond the walls of their prison.

"Sati told me that's what she'd name her first daughter," Piandao said distantly. Bato could only nod at that.

"So are things settled? Are you done being needlessly angry with me?" Bato asked.

"Yes."

"Good," Bato said. "Now let's start working on our glorious escape from captivity. First, we need to find out where Long Feng's keeping Sativa."

"It can wait," Piandao said, starting to slump down the wall. "I need to rest."

"Ah, well, rest while you can," Bato amended. He looked at that black door. What horrors did Sativa face out there? What did she suffer for every moment that they didn't free her? But the swordsman was right; sometimes, a man just needs his rest.

---

The weather above their heads had gone from hot and dreary to hot and thundering, even as Shoji and On-Ji struggled against their binds. Somehow, thought, the binds were of a sort which did not become in the slightest bit slick as the rain pounded onto them. It was strange; water just made them bite the flesh harder and harsher.

"Have you got the gag out, yet?" Shoji asked.

"This was a terrible idea!" On-Ji answered in an angry, harsh whisper.

"I'll take that as a yes," Shoji said glibly.

"This is all your fault! You just had to help the maniacal Tribeswoman, didn't you?"

Shoji gave a sigh, feeling a weight on his chest. "I thought it was the right thing to do."

"Well, you know what they say about the breakwaters of Hell," On-Ji said, before taking up an angry silence.

Ahead of him was another sight of great oddness. The old woman was standing over where Huuni was sitting upon a throne of oddly heat-resistant ice. Hama's hands were glowing against the darkness of both night and terrible thunderstorm, but a bubble had formed around the waterbender who now worked her hands across Huuni's head and face. For Huuni's part, her eyes seemed to have rolled back in her head, like a sleeping eel-hound.

"What'd'ya think Hama's doing?" Shoji asked.

"Water magic," On-Ji said angrily.

"Onj, please," Shoji said.

"What does it matter?" she asked.

"Do... do you think Hama's turned Huuni against us with some sort of waterbending mind-trick?"

"More likely, the barbarian was just waiting for the first opportunity to stab us in the back," On-Ji said.

"Onj, not everybody is like Hide," Shoji said. "There's good people out there. Sure, we might not have found one this time, but..."

"Tell me you're not trying to 'keep my spirits up' right now!" On-Ji hissed. "Come on! We're tied up, in a thunderstorm, by a pair of angry psychopathic waterbenders!"

"Huuni's a shaman, not a waterbender," Shoji corrected. Even though he couldn't see On-Ji because of the way he was tied, he could feel that she was giving him a death glare.

"That should do it, cousin," Hama said in her own language. "I have nurtured the spark which lay within you. It is only a matter of time before it returns in full strength."

Huuni's eyes shot open, and a gleeful grin spread across her face. "Really? How soon?"

Hama shook her head. "I cannot say. I am a waterbender, not a shaman. I only know how to repair mortal injuries, not spiritual ones. But if Irukandji is wounded within you, as you claim, then he has the path to become strong again."

"That's spectacular news!" Huuni was quite pleased, it sounded. She turned to the two Nationals. "So what are we going to do with those two?"

"Throw them into the prison with the others," Hama said.

"Others?" Shoji asked, a sense of dread through him. "What do you mean, others? Why would you imprison..."

"Agni's blood, you're the monster in the woods, aren't you?" On-Ji blurted out, obviously connecting the dots a touch faster than he did. "Why didn't I see that? You're the one making all those people disappear, aren't you!"

"I should have told you, the boy somehow knows our tongue," Huuni said quickly. Hama shot her fellow Tribeswoman a look of disdain, then, before turning her icy glare back onto the two youths.

"You monsters took away forty years of my life, murdered without pity or compunction hundreds of my friends, and brothers, and sisters, and cousins. You deserve the same fate, and now that Huuni is going to aid me, the work can begin in earnest. Not just a culling of the fools on this island, but throughout this entire continent! They will all pay for what they've done to me!"

"I didn't do anything to you!" Shoji said, even as the woman lashed out with a backhand, which, despite the distance between them, still connected with a crack of ice-cold water. He shook the stars from his eyes, and at his back, On-Ji picked up where he'd been forced to leave off.

"But from the way you're treating us, maybe you deserve to be in prison!" she said. "You're attacking innocent people, people who didn't even know that your kind were imprisoned, and for what? What justice is there in hurting them? None! You're just a sick old woman who can't feel in control unless she's hurting someone! We're not the monsters, Hama; you are!"

"Monster?" Hama's voice held a cruel comedy in it. "I don't think you know the meaning of the word. Not after what you did to the Air Nomads, or my people, or the East. But if you want to see a monster, then I'll show you what your friend looks like after I pull the water out of him."

It started as a tingling in Shoji's skin, but an instant after that, it started to turn to burning, in his eyes and his mouth more than anywhere else, and only his desire not to die kept the scream of agony behind pursed lips, his eyes clamped shut.

"STOP IT YOU BITCH!" On-Ji shrieked. Then, she, unnoticed by either bender or victim, loosened the shoe on her foot, and kicked it very hard at the former, striking the old woman squarely in the face. That knocked her back a moment, and Shoji's agonized moaning died off, and the pain quieted. The cracked, burning sensation slowly pulsed away, as the water in his body slowly shifted back to where it belonged.

Hama was now the one who had to take a moment to blink away a stunning blow. "This is tiresome. They are too much trouble to drag to the mountain."

"Well, what should we do?" Huuni asked.

"Just open them up and let them bleed onto the forest," Hama directed. "Make it look like a Komodo Rhino got 'em."

She gave a smile at that, and accepted a long-bladed knife from the woman, and moved toward the pair who now shivered against all of fear, pain, and cold, as the rain pressed down. "You are a horrible human being!" On-Ji cried. But Huuni didn't understand her, and didn't answer.

"Why, Huuni? I wanted to help you," Shoji said tearfully.

"You did. Now, I will be whole again," she answered. And then, she rose her knife high.

Unseen, but certainly felt, there was a shift. It was tiny, just a small stream of electrons shifting from the brain to the skin. That tiny electrical charge was not much, a few volts of power, but it was a few volts with a very clear purpose. They moved up that slick, conductive knife, and then, stretched long, forming a perfect connection between the ground and relatively high, electrically conductive point. The hiss was almost inaudible – it was the sound of lightning's contemptuous laughter. Then, a flash, as the ionized particles in the air took the invitation to ignore the trees, the clouds, and even the void of space above, and focused on the easiest path to grounding. Through a knife, and straight through a vain, hypocritical narcissist's body.

The flash caused both youths to glance away, which also meant that the deafening bang of a lightning bolt landing five feet away from them slammed into one of their ears utterly unprotected. The pulse of lightning caused their legs and backs to cramp and contract, but the effect on its direct target was far worse. The knife was instantly melted out of shape, but the woman was thrown into a tree as her entire body locked solid. Her eyes bugged, staring at nothing, for a long moment before her entire form became loose as a puddle. Hama blinked away that same flash-blindness, then gave a grunt of alarm, seeing Huuni lightning struck.

"Very well," the old woman said fatalistically. "If you need something done, you have to do it yourself."

She picked up that bent, warped blade and stomped it against a stone, to get a straight edge to it again. "Don't do it!" On-Ji said.

"You are in no position to stop me," Hama said in gloating tone.

It didn't help that they were still ringing of ear from the first thunderstrike, when a second slammed horizontally through the air and smashed the old woman aside. This one quickly drew Shoji's eyes to its source. Huuni was standing up again, rubbing her head with one hand, and the other had one finger pointed at the waterbender.

"Yeah, well I am," Huuni said, but at the same time, it didn't sound like her. The voice was the same, but the way she talked was so completely different that it was startling. She stretched, and the chorus of joints popping was somewhat unsettling. "Oooooh... Yeah, that was eight kinds of suck in a five suck bag."

"She... can talk!" On-Ji said. Then she started struggling at Shoji's back. "Leave us alone!"

"Oh, calm down, kiddo," Huuni said. She took a moment to clear her throat, stretch once more, and then looked down at herself. "Hey, new digs! At least that brain-dead bint has some good taste."

"What's going on, Huuni?"

"Oh, Huuni ain't here anymore," the Tribeswoman replied, still in perfect and unaccented Huojian. Shoji leaned back. "Oh, don't be like that. I just sent her into the corner for being a bitch. And what a bitch! I swear, she ain't getting out again until this whole 'end of the world' thing is sorted completely. Huuni's stupidity is a bigger gun to our heads than the whole Sozin's Comet thing."

"Sozin's what?" On-Ji asked.

"I don't understand, Huuni," Hama said unsteadily as she got to her feet.

"And who are... Ooooooh," Huuni said. "Well, this is a problem."

"Why did you attack me?" Hama demanded.

"You were being evil. Contrary to popular belief, I dislike evil," she answered. "And my name is Irukandji. Get it right; the stress is on the 'Ih' and the 'Kand'."

"Irukandji?" Shoji asked.

"See, kid gets it," Irukandji said with a grin.

"You're the spirit who was inside her!" he said.

"Yeah, and she's been a naughty, naughty girl," Irukandji said. "I'd spank 'er if I didn't suspect she'd like it."

"She made a covenant with me," Hama said, pointing one arthritic finger at her. "You must honor her deals!"

"What do you take me for, some low-rent weather spirit?" Irukandji mocked. She lashed out again, and the sliver of lightning threw Hama to the saturated sod. "Weak spirits honor deals because they want to be protected from bigger, hungrier spirits. I'm about as big as a spirit can get. And so you know, your fumbling was about as useful as an Earthbender on the Ocean."

"I don't understand."

"You, on the other hand," she said, walking over to the two youths, "did help. Huuni's about as dumb as they come, and you kept her from getting killed. If she died while I was still incubating inside her brainpan, well, that'd be pretty inconvenient. Maybe even lethal. Can't be sure," she then reached out and tore the binds off with her bare hands. She then turned to Hama. "You, on the first hand, are a dangerous sociopath. Ordinarily, I'd leave it to Katara and the Avatar to sort you out, but since I can't honestly say if they're going to even show up this time, I guess this trash has to get thrown out right now."

"What are you ta–"

Irukandji silenced her with a third, and by far loudest lightning bolt, which struck the old woman square in the heart and drove her into the darkness. Irukandji just shook her head, and turned back to the two youths. "Well, don't have a heart attack thanking me," she said sarcastically.

"I don't understand what just happened," On-Ji said.

"I'm made of lightning. I needed something to munch on to get my strength back. Human synapses is like a raw-bones diet for me. Sure, I can survive, but I can't bulk up on rice and soybeans, if you catch my meaning."

"Oh...kay..." On-Ji said.

"Is she...?"

"Dead? As a doornail," Irukandji said, striding over to her, even as Shoji started to limp toward her. "Oh, wait, she's not dead..." Irukandji thrust down a hand once more, and a fourth lightning bolt slammed the old woman down once more. "...yeah, she's dead now. Don't feel bad, though. She's pretty much a monster in any reality. I've only seen her... three times, I think, where she wasn't. And that one was a far cry from what's going on here."

"You don't make a lot of sense. Are you insane or something?" On-Ji asked.

"Oh, the people who've asked me that," Irukandji said with a chuckle. She drew herself up, and looked at them with a level of honest appreciation which Huuni never had. "Let's level with ya; you two did me a solid. So I'm going to give you a little bit of advice. You ever get your hands on any kind of money, invest in copper."

"Copper?" Shoji asked.

"Yup. Copper."

"Copper's worthless," On-Ji stated.

"I have a feeling that it's going to experience a monumental increase in value in the next twenty to thirty years," she said with a smirk. She pointed toward where the mountain stood, obscured by the trees. "You might want to take her key and unlock the poor bastards she keeps chained up in the hills. They've had enough shit for one war."

"W...thank you?" On-Ji said carefully.

"Yeah. And don't feel bad about looting the old hag's house. She stole most of that money from her victims," she said. "Ta!"

"Ta?" Shoji asked.

Irukandji grinned wide, showing many teeth, and then with an electric 'zorp', she was gone. Shoji turned to On-Ji. "...what just happened?" he asked.

"I'm not sure..." On-Ji said.

There was a second 'zorp', and Irukandji was standing between the two youths, one arm looped around each's shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing. Piece of free advice if you will; Don't go anywhere east of Ember Island on the first day of autumn. Wouldn't want you two getting dead after all this trouble you put into... you know... not dying."

"Okay..." Shoji said.

"Right. Now, I've got to make sure the pots I left on the fire didn't boil over. Have fun, kids."

A last 'zorp', and the two youths were left alone in the rain-pounded clearing outside the inn, with a cooling, dead old woman, and a lot more questions than answers. Shoji turned to his friend. "Look, we can try to figure this all out later. Right now, there's people who need our help!"

He was off running again in a heartbeat. Behind him, On-Ji let out a world-weary sigh, and shook her head. "Agni help us if there's more like you out there," she muttered, but not harshly. And then, she was following him up into the mountains, to liberate the unjustly taken.

---

It was the grunting which dragged Malu out of her starvation-induced delirium. It wasn't that she felt lethargic for the hunger; it actually drove her wild with energy, but ground like teeth. She shook her head, trying to convince herself that the grunting was in fact a real thing. But a second bellow, low and loud and bass sounded through the rock-walls of the Divide, and a smile, so long bereft of her face that it actually stung a little to do so, spread across her visage. She knew that sound. She hadn't heard it in a long time, but she knew it.

She started to move more quickly, throwing aside the fist-full of worms she'd almost subconsciously eaten, and moved toward that sound. And then, she heard another sound. They were very much like that first rumbling bellow, but much higher in pitch, much shorter in duration. And when she finally shot around a bend in the river and by extension the rocks, she could see exactly what she'd expected. Huge and white and fuzzy stood the bison, the markings running dark brown and ragged down its back. And there were four other bison with her, each of them about the size of a large sofa, but dwarfed completely by her massive weight and dimensions. A cow bison, and her four calves, all of them munching contentedly at the harsh grasses which managed to eke a living in the Divide. Malu's hands flew to her mouth, and the grin threatened to topple her head right off.

"Oh... it's so beautiful," she said. "Hey there, jangali baila... What're you doing in a place like this?"

The bison turned toward her, its one great grey eye lazy. The calves were much more skittish, though, and with a series of bleats, they all took to the air, hovering above their mother, their relatively little tails paddling fiercely to keep aloft. "Oh, it's alright. I'm an airbender like you," Malu said, extending a hand toward the great beast. "See? We're alike. You like me, don't you?"

The snort should have been her first clue that it didn't. But then again, Malu had learned so thoroughly and so repeatedly of the inextricable bond which would form between a bison and an airbender that she rather expected it to arise of its own volition. The great beast balked back a step, but Malu was, at the moment, in absolute optimism mode. It was the first time she'd been within touching distance of the wondrous airbenders of the animal kingdom since her own companion was struck down out of the sky. "See? It's alright. I just want to..."

The bison let out a low, rattling bellow, this one obvious warning. It oriented itself toward Malu, who turned, expecting that something was standing behind her. She knew the Divide was crawling with canyon crawlers; she heard them every day, and their drone every night. But every time she thought she was coming close to them, the sounds they made fell silent; despite their fearsome and dangerous reputation – which was much more than rumor, based on her last misadventure in the Divide, which was however a century ago – she hadn't seen a single of the arthropodal monsters. As before, there was nothing behind her.

"What?" Malu asked, as the bison standing behind her let out another angry bellow. "What's out there? What's wrong?"

Malu heard a thumping behind her, and even though her brain told her it couldn't be what her instincts thought it was, she was already starting to move by the time the bison reached her. But as much as she was an airbender, so was it. And you wouldn't know it to see them, but bison could be quite capable of agility in both defense, or as was relevant at the moment, attack. Which was why, with a horrible tearing of agony through her body, Malu found herself hoist up on from the ground, by the tip of that enraged bison's horn. Malu reached down, feeling that foreign body which should not have logically passed through hers, and had just enough time to mutter "...but..."

Then, a twist of the great beast's head, and Malu was flung from the horn which had penetrated her, dashed against the rocks on the far side of the stream. Malu couldn't feel her legs. She could only stare back, over the water, at the bison who stomped its legs two by two, a signal that bison used against their predators as a warning that they could and would fight. Why would it use that against her? Why would it attack its fellow airbender? Bison didn't do that! "...why?" she asked, but the bison let out one more bellow, and then with a slap of its tail, took to the air with its young, all of them fleeing north as fast as the calves' airbending would take them. "I...I... don't understand..." she whispered. Why?

The answer to that question didn't appear. But more questions did. Such as how feeling was returning to her legs. Malu reached down, and pulled up the kavi to where the horn had lanced her. The skin there was... being pulled back into place. It was like some sort of dark threads were tearing her skin, pulling it like uncaring sutures until the wound was closed. As soon as her feet would allow, she rose upon them, pulling her kavi up higher and groping at her back. There was a scar, there, something of hot, fervent flesh and untidy healing. And the hunger was greater than ever. It gnawed at her, sending needles of white-hot pain through her eyeballs. She staggered forward, first past the scree, then into the pebbles and gravel, until she finally dropped to her hands and knees in the water. She sweated terribly. She hungered terribly.

And her fist was closed on something. Malu threw herself back, out of the water, that hand still closed. She landed on her backside, but trapped in an iron-like grip was a sizable fish, caught with her bare hand. "Oh... I should... let you go back into the..." she said, staring at the fish in her hand, and the hunger began to ramp until she was blinded by it. Nothing existed but that fish, and her hunger. "...water..."

Her breathing quickened, and she begged herself to stop. Bugs didn't count, but fish did! They were animals! She was a vegetarian! She didn't eat meat! It was wrong!

And not one of those things stopped her from launching into biting hard into the living fish, eating it raw and ruthless. The meat, as it passed into her stomach, brought the slightest, ever so incremental satiation of her hunger. It was like the difference between being stabbed with ten thousand needles before, and nine thousand nine hundred and eighty afterwords. And with that, a sob caught in her throat, even as she launched into another savage bite and swallow, not even bothering to chew.

"Why am I doing this!" She wept openly as she ate that fish. "What am I?"

And she was still hungry.

---

He stood above the rubble, great pillars of stone come tumbling down to the ground despite that troublesome boy's best attempts at interference. Above him, the sky was painted an orange hue, lit by the passage of Sozin's Comet, his grandfather's legacy, the sword he would use to conquer the world. The only one in the whole wide world who could stop him, who would try to stop him, now lay in the scree and rubble at his feet.

Ozai reached down, and plucked the boy up. He seemed so small, so fragile. Fitting. He had been a coward and fled from their first encounter. Their second had been much more in the Fire Lord's favor. With the power of Sozin's Comet searing through him, he had all of the power in the world. He clamped his other fist around the boy's throat, and began to squeeze, grinning as the Avatar's paltry resistance began to flag, to fail, his eyes roll up.

"It was always coming to this," Ozai said. "You were a fool to oppose me."

But even as the Avatar moved into death, a smile came to his young face. That caused Ozai to retract his grip slightly, mostly from the shock of it. As the boy dropped from his grip, he dissolved right away, vanishing into the air.

"Not a fool," another voice came through the stones. "Some people need to be opposed."

"Who is that? Show yourself! I will kill anybody who stands against me! No man can defeat me with Sozin's Comet running through my veins!" Ozai roared.

The harsh, electric zap of lightning was Ozai's only indication that he had to bound out of the way, because an instant later, the tumbledown of scree was blasted by a bolt from the blue, sending even more of the stones raining down and pelting him. Ozai turned, and saw a girl standing there, eyes golden and locked on his own, her face as focused and brutal as any he'd had himself. It was his daughter. "Fortunate that I am no man, then," Azula's mocking voice came.

"Impossible! You cannot know the cold-blooded fire!" Ozai screamed, snapping his arms through an arc, and following his own words with some lightning of his own. With a twisting motion, with his brother's motion, she smashed that lightning bolt aside, deflecting it into one of the many stone pillars which made up this increasingly indistinct landscape.

"You don't know anything about me," she said. "All you do is destroy. You destroyed your brother. You destroyed his son. You destroyed your wife. And now, you're destroying me."

"I did what I had to do! You were not fit to rule!" Ozai shouted at her, his fists raising before him. "You cannot match me. I have Sozin's Comet on my side!"

"Have you forgotten, Father?" Azula said, that last word so dripping with condescension, "Sozin's Comet does not discriminate."

She lashed forward with a wash of golden flames so monumental that it seemed to erase the world. All Ozai could do was punch through, to twist the fire to his will, to project it forward.

Against his firstborn daughter.

Ozai's eyes snapped open as he released a clipped yell, and a flash of flame lashed above him at the canopy of his bed. Fortunately, it didn't reach high enough to set the whole bed alight. Still, the Fire Lord felt his heart pounding, his mind twisted into a knot, sweat pounding out of every pore. He sat still for a long moment, trying to regain a breath he didn't know he'd lost. He heard a shifting in the bed, and turned his eyes to the other who shared the mattress.

"Is something wrong, Fire Lord?" the woman asked, well acted concern in her voice. Akemi Fujitsuna was a talented mistress, one he had acquired even while still wed to his wife, although then, she'd had a different purpose; managing his affairs rather than sharing his bed. Ozai let his gaze fall upon her for a long moment.

"...no," Ozai said. "Nothing is wrong. Leave me. I wish to rest undisturbed."

Akemi's features flashed through suspicion, if so quickly that only somebody pointedly watching for it as Ozai had would spot it, before she gave a nod. "As the Fire Lord wishes."

She slipped away into the darkness to regain her effects and leave him in peace. Maybe it would work. Maybe a little bit of solitude would give his weary, overtaxed mind a chance to renew itself.

Maybe the nightmares about his daughter would end.

---

Slightly shorter, yeah, but there were a few plotlines which needed neatly tying up. You'll get more Avatar-related hijinks next chapter.

To forestall a few questions; no, Malu's part in this story isn't ended. Just taken a turn for the antagonistic. Yes, I realize that Team Nila hasn't had much Avatar interaction yet. That changes once people start landing in Ba Sing Se. The loving-uncle-angry-nephew dynamic of Iroh and Zuko is replaced by the wary-uncle-obsessed-niece of Iroh and Azula.

And regarding Azula. She's only got three souls inside her... at the moment. One of them is in charge. One of them is sidelined and only free to snark and complain, and the last is less a force of personality, and more a metaphysical tire-patch, who's been leaking into Azula's brain from below. None of Azula, not Old'Zula nor Young'Zula nor Crazy'Zula, none of them has a full picture. Old'Zula's blinded by hatred and obsession. Young'Zula only has some of the memories of the last few years, and thus, lacks context. Crazy'Zula... you can guess why she's not helping things.

And for the record; I'm still considering whether I should reveal what Nila's name actually is.