The sun carefully peaked from its hiding spot behind the cliffs, beams of light spilling on to the infinite mirror of the sea. A swirl of purples and yellows and oranges routed the night sky, and strange birds cawed in celebration of a new day. The sunrise was so different here compared to those Katara saw in the South Pole, more beautiful in some ways. More birds too, of course.

Yet even still, she was already beginning to miss home. A part of her feared that she would never see it again, or...worse. Another part of her, for some peculiar reason, began thinking about Aang.

"Wake up, Sokka!" Aang chirped. "Don't you wanna see the Air Temple?"

Sokka responded with an irritated grunt and tucked himself tighter into his sleeping bag, turning his back on Aang.

With barely a moment's hesitation, the world's last hope grabbed a twig in the sand and began prodding up and down Sokka's back. "Sokka, wake up!" he cried. "There's a prickle snake in your sleeping bag!"

Katara giggled as Sokka flopped across the beach in his sleeping bag like a cursing, screaming fish out of water.

Aang grabbed his staff triumphantly. "Great, you're awake!" he said cheerfully. He hopped over to Appa, floating gently down right next to Katara's spot on the saddle. "Wait 'till you see it, Katara! The Southern Air Temple is one of the most beautiful places in the world!"

Katara suddenly felt very uncomfortable as her sleepy mind suddenly sorted itself out. "Aang, I know you're excited," she began, "but it's been a hundred years since you've been home."

Aang smiled broadly. "That's why I'm so excited!"

Katara took a breath. "It's just that...it's been a long time. The airbenders...look, the Fire Nation is ruthless. They killed my mother, and they -"

Something flickered in Aang's eyes that made her pause. But Aang simply chuckled, and his eyes grew hopeful. "Just because no one has seen an airbender doesn't mean the Fire Nation killed them all. They probably escaped!"

Katara placed a hand on Aang's shoulder. "I know it's hard to accept," she soothed.

There was that flicker again. "You don't understand, Katara," he said matter-of-factly. "The only way to get to an airbender temple is on a flying bison, and I doubt the Fire Nation has any of those. Right, Appa?"

Appa grunted as Sokka and his supplies clawed up the bison's tail. Aang slid over to the reins. "Yip-yip!" he exclaimed, and the creature soared into the orange sky.

Zuko stormed his way through the crowded docks, his long, harsh stride warning anyone nearby that he was going to kill the next person that got in his way.

"I want the repairs made as quickly as possible," he whispered harshly. "And cancel our request for more men. There's no time."

Uncle managed to keep up with his pace, somehow. "None of the men who were frozen survived thawing."

"That doesn't matter. We can't risk losing his trail."

"Ah, you mean the Avatar," Uncle said, his mind occupied by other matters. Probably tea.

"Don't mention his name here!" Zuko spun sharply and almost raised his hand to hit the old man, but he quickly decided to swat at the air instead.

"Don't mention what name?" asked a familiar, growling voice. Too late.

"Captain Zhao," Zuko muttered with disdain as he turned around to greet the man.

Zhao towered over both Zuko and his uncle, and his eyes didn't bother hiding his contempt for the young prince in particular. "It's commander now," he said with a smirk. He turned and bowed slightly towards Uncle, and Zuko couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. "And Prince Iroh. Great hero and general of our nation."

"Retired general," corrected Uncle.

"The Fire Lord's brother and son are welcome guests anytime. What brings you to my harbor? Senkayu hasn't seen much use in the past decade."

Zuko glanced around skeptically at the rows of massive ships lining the docks.

"Making repairs," Uncle replied, gesturing towards the open hunk of twisted metal that was miraculously still floating. "Adding some more men, replenishing some supplies. Thank you for your hospitality."

"Yes," Zhao muttered, seemingly focused on the ship. He suddenly smiled, and Zuko tightly clenched his fists. Did he know? "That's...quite a bit of damage."

Zuko decided it was time to end the conversation. "Yes!" he blurted. "You wouldn't believe what happened...Uncle! Tell Zhao what happened."

The general's eyes. eyes slightly widened, but Zuko knew that Uncle was the more experienced actor. "It was incredible!" he began, slyly eyeing his nephew. "We rammed right into an...Earth Kingdom ship!"

Zhao gave that same, knowing smirk, and Zuko shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Really?" he asked with mock enthusiasm. "I don't like to get in the way, but you must regale me with all the thrilling details. Join me for a drink?"

Zuko averted his gaze and began to walk away. "Sorry, but we have to go."

He had barely taken three steps when he felt Uncle's hand on his shoulder. "Prince Zuko, show Commander Zhao your respect," he scolded before letting go. "We would be honored to join you. "Do you have ginseng tea? It's my favorite."

Zuko turned reluctantly as the two men strolled off to drink tea and compare sideburns. He took a deep breath as he unclenched his fists, a small burst of flame and steam hissing from his palms, and stormed off in pursuit.

The Southern Air Temple was, as Aang had promised multiple times along the way, the most beautiful place Sokka had ever seen.

The temple must have been built into the mountain itself, a massive tower that speared through the clouds jutting out from the summit. Even after a hundred years of obvious decay, even put against the depressing backdrop of cloudy gray skies, the structures still maintained a sense of...majesty. That was the word for it. They had been walking up snow-covered stairs and slopes for an hour, and it still seemed like they weren't even halfway to the top...

Sokka's sense of awe quickly evaporated into despair.

"Yep, this is home," said Aang, who was more than a few steps ahead of him and Katara. "What do you guys think?

Sokka's stomach grumbled in response. "So where do I get something to eat?" Sokka translated.

Katara threw Sokka an annoyed glance. "You're lucky to be one of the first outsiders to ever visit an airbender temple, and all you can think about is...food?"

Sokka shrugged indifferently, secretly reveling in her displeasure. "I'm just a simple guy, with simple needs."

Aang had rounded a corner and disappeared, but he didn't seem to notice. "So that's where my friends and I would play airball," he said from somewhere far up ahead, "and over there is where the bison would sleep, and..."

Sokka came to a sudden halt, his path blocked by his sister's arm. Aang stood still on a cliff on the side of the steps, peering solemnly at the deserted ruins below. When Sokka realized why, he simply shook his head. He'd forgotten that the young Avatar was still in denial.

Katara began walking towards Aang. "What's wrong?" she asked, as if she didn't know.

"They're empty," Aang answered sadly. "It's just...weeds. Where did everyone go?"

It was then that Sokka noticed a small black horn half-buried in the snow, and part of him already knew what it was. He took out his spear and prodded at it. Metal. He kneeled down and pulled.

His eyes widened with fear despite himself. A shattered, rusting Fire Army helmet.

"Guys," he called. "You better come see this."

Aang didn't respond, perhaps still caught up by his own thoughts. But Katara was already at his side. "Fire Nation."

"We should tell him."

Katara sighed. "Aang!" she yelled.

Sokka stared intently at the helmet, wondering how Aang would react. Would he cry? Maybe he would become all angry and glowy again. Or maybe the kid just wouldn't make the connection, and Katara would have to explain to him how the Fire Nation slaughtered his friends and family one hundred years ago. Then he'd start glowing.

"What is it?" Aang said with curiosity. Sokka steeled himself against the coming breakdown.

He was hit with a copious amount of snow instead, just enough to knock him down and bury both his head and the helmet. "Just a new waterbending move I learned!" he could hear Katara say in that innocent, carefree tone she had perfected years ago.

Aang burst out laughing from a distance, his spirits evidently raised. "Nice one! But enough practicing, we have a whole temple to see!"

Sokka lifted himself back up and dusted off the snow. "You know, you can't protect him forever."

Katara began walking away. Sokka pulled on her shoulder. "Katara," he said sternly, "firebenders were here. You can't just pretend they weren't."

Katara faced him with sad eyes, and Sokka instantly released her from his grip. "I can for Aang's sake. Just...a little longer."

The two siblings continued up the path towards the temple in silence.

"...Assuming it actually works, the weapon should provide us with the opening we need to take Ba Sing Se. By the end of the year, the capitals of both the Earth Kingdom and Northern Water Tribe will be under our rule, and the Fire Lord can finally claim victory in this war."

Zuko shook his head angrily, partly because he knew Zhao was simply stalling, and partly because Zhao was plain wrong. After an hour of drinking tea, his Uncle had walked to some wall on the other side of the room, having taken interest with a display of fanciful weapons. "If my father thinks the rest of the world will bow to him so easily, then he is a fool!"

Zhao kneeled down to meet Zuko eye-to-eye. "Two years at sea have done little to temper your tongue," he jeered. "How is your search for the Avatar going?"

Zuko's heart skipped a beat as something fell apart with a terrific crash behind him.

"Eh...my fault, entirely," Uncle apologized meekly, much to Zuko's chagrin. Zhao was visibly displeased and walked over to check on his prized blades.

"We haven't found him yet," Zuko muttered, his head tilted towards the ground.

Zhao grunted as he walked back, apparently uninterested in cleaning up the mess. "What did you expect? We made sure the Avatar died a hundred years ago...Unless you have found evidence that wasn't the case?"

"I haven't found...anything." Zuko had looked up just long enough to realize that Zhao was smiling.

Zuko took a deep breath. "No, it's like you said," he continued in a mocking tone. "The Avatar probably died a long time ago. Come on, Uncle, we're going."

He stood up from his chair and was exiting the tent when three soldiers suddenly cut him off with their pikes.

One of the soldiers walked up to Zhao. "Commander Zhao, the crew has been interrogated and has confirmed that Prince Zuko had the Avatar in custody...but...let him escape."

"Now remind me," Zhao drawled sardonically, "how, exactly was your ship damaged?"

Aang ran up the courtyard excitedly. He couldn't believe it. It was Monk Gyatso!

Well, a wooden statue of Gyatso calmly sitting in lotus, in surprisingly good condition. A thread of sorrow wove its way through Aang's joy as he remembered his situation; he'd never said goodbye to Gyatso before he...left.

But it was still a welcome sight. It wasn't just the fact that the temple was clearly abandoned for a long time. He had noticed it the moment he entered the temple, patches of stone and wood and clay and varying sizes that felt foreign in a way that couldn't be explained as natural decay. But if a wooden statue like that was still standing after a hundred years, then firebenders certainly couldn't have attacked here like Katara claimed.

"Who's...that?" Sokka asked, still short on breath from the long hike up the mountain.

"Guys, I want you to meet Monk Gyatso, the greatest airbender in the world." Aang closed his eyes and bowed towards the statue, silently reminiscing about the wisdom Gyatso would dispense as they baked cakes for the New Spring celebrations. He also remembered Gyatso teaching him how to lob said cakes at their flow airbenders from long distances, and he could still hear the older monks harshly reprimanding Gyatso for all the mischief he and Aang were causing, warning Gyatso that time was running short, that the Avatar had to be ready meet his destiny...

Aang opened his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. He felt an understanding hand place itself on his shoulder, and for a moment he thought Gyatso had somehow magically returned.

"You must miss him," Katara said softly.

Aang nodded and continued walking through the courtyard.

"Where are you going?"

"The air temple sanctuary. There's...someone I'm ready to meet."

Aang lightly jogged down the open hallway in front of him, up the steps, down another hallway, around a corridor...he saw paintings and symbols of his people plastered across the walls scroll by him, not a burn mark on them, and he smiled. His people were still out there somewhere.

At last, he arrived at a massive wooden door, the only thing that stood between him and his destiny. Three large, curled metal pipes, stylized after the symbol for airbending acted as the door's locks.

Katara and Sokka had finally caught up to him. "But Aang," said Katara, "no one could have survived in there for a hundred years. Do -"

"Maybe he has a lot of food," Sokka interjected.

Aang gave Katara a hopeful smile. "Well I survived in the iceberg for that long."

Katara placed a finger on her chin thoughtfully. "Good point..."

"Katara, whoever's in there might help figure out this Avatar thing!"

Sokka ran up to the door. "And he might have delicious cured meats," he stressed as he tried and promptly failed to kick open the door.

Aang sighed. "Sokka, air nomads are vegetarian. Now stand back and watch this."

Sokka grumbled to himself as he limped behind Aang.

Aang spread his arms and thrusted them forward, bending a steady current of air into the pipes. They began to make a horn-like sound, punctuated by squeaks and clicks as they started to rotate one by one. As the last pipe made its final click, the door slowly creaked open.

After what seemed like a wasteful eternity, Zhao finally stopped silently pacing the room.

"So a twelve-year-old boy bested you and your firebenders," he spat with disgust. "You're more pathetic than I thought."

Zuko clenched his fists at the slant. "I underestimated once," he growled, "but it will not happen again!"

"No, it will not. Because you won't have a second chance."

Wisps of light gray began to slip out of Zuko's curled fingers. "Commander Zhao, you must reconsider," he pleaded angrily. "I've been hunting the Avatar for two years -"

Zhao threw a dangerous arc of fire over Zuko's head. "Don't give me orders, boy," he hissed. "Capturing the Avatar is too important to leave in a teenager's hands. I was considering letting you join me, but I see that you're still too arrogant to be anything more than a hindrance."

Zuko stared at the dirt, hatred and anger swirling within him. He barely took notice of the sentry who quickly entered and exited the tent without a word.

"My search party is ready." Zhao sighed. "Once I'm out to sea, you'll be escorted back to your repaired ship and be free to go.

A dangerous, daring idea formed from the emotional storm battering his mind. "Are you worried I'm going to try and stop you?" he asked pointedly.

Zhao let out a sardonic laugh. "You?" he drawled in disbelief. "Stop me? Impossible."

Zuko's rage carried him to his feet, and with a cry of frustration he brought his leg high over and down on to the wooden tea table, reducing it to splinters.

Uncle leapt up from his own seat. "Prince Zuko, that's enough!" he roared. But Zuko didn't care. He had to get back at Zhao, even if he didn't know how.

Zhao remained unfazed. "You can't compete with me," he said confidently. "I have dozens of warships under my command and you? You're just a banished prince. No home, no allies. Your own father doesn't even want you."

"You're wrong!" Zuko screamed. "Once I deliver the Avatar -"

"If your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now, Avatar or no Avatar. But in his eyes you are a failure and a disgrace."

Zuko struggled to hold back tears at the sting of the lies. "That's not true..."

"You have the scar to prove it."

A sudden epiphany. Zuko brought himself up close to Zhao, their noses almost touching, staring up into those cruel, arrogant, lying eyes. He knew exactly what he was going to do. "Maybe you'd like one to match!" he hissed, and he caught the slight twitch in Zhao's eyes as the commander felt a wave of threatening heat wash across his face. It filled him with bloodlust.

"Is that a challenge?" Zhao asked mockingly.

"An Agni Kai. At sunset."

"Very well." Zhao turned around and began walking towards the tent flap. "It's a shame your father won't be here to watch me humiliate you. I guess your uncle will do."

"More tea, please!" Uncle requested a moment after Zhao left the room. The lone guard seemed to ponder over his situation. Zuko once again felt that pang of jealousy. Even now, simply uttering the name "Iroh" usually elicited praise and wonderfully fantastic stories about the retired general's cunning, or his wisdom, or his ferocity, or his kindness. He was a living legend, even after his spotless record had been tainted by defeat at Ba Sing Se.

"Don't worry," Uncle assured the ambivalent man. "We won't leave without you. You have my word."

The young man nodded, peaked outside the tent flap, and walked away.

"Prince Zuko, this is foolish," Uncle scolded, his previously warm tone raising itself to less-friendly levels, "or have you forgotten what happened the last time you dueled a master?"

Zuko wished Uncle was right. He closed his eyes and thought of turtle-ducks and tea gardens and other beautiful things that were robbed from him. He had to angrily rub the scarred side of his face to bring himself back to the present. "I will never forget."