Chapter 5 – Of Astounded Generations; They Wrestle
Katara expended her irritation in the mixed pursuits of talking with Song, flipping through books at random, and helping Zuko think of an escape. The characters on the pages blended together in a dizzying swirl of ink, and time passed like a whirlpool dragging her under the surface. She feared that, one day, she would wake up and find that three years had passed while she'd been reading.
Frustrated, she set off one night searching for the owl. They had seen little of him since their arrival, and she reasoned that, like his animal counterparts in the mortal world, he must be primarily nocturnal. Plunging down the stone staircases, she drove further towards the bottom of the library to where she'd seen the spirit retreat to when he had been agitated after their initial arrival. At the bottom floor she paused for breath and leaned against the trunk of a yew tree, a miraculous sight growing indoors. Their canopies wove together and formed a vaulted ceiling, their spacing so regular that the result was nearly a geometric pattern in the branches. They were also, along with the stonework, a rightful part of the library's structure. The sunstones that fueled the plants' growth also provided the only hint of day and night-time's pattern for the three outside of their own internal clocks pushing sleep and wake cycles. At night, the sunstones dulled to a calm moon-like glow, exchanging gold for silver, signalling that, outside, the Si Wong desert was also held under night's shroud.
Stilling herself, she reached her senses outward through the tree, following the water flowing within it, creeping through as she had to find the well in the desert, as that ancestor of the bar owner had to scout the location of the Misty Palms Oasis. She was familiar with that terrifying clarity and infringement on the autonomy of others that was bloodbending. She wouldn't manipulate his body, but she could use the same skill to find him by searching for a warm pulse of fluid energy. Spreading her awareness out through the unfolding shapes in the blackness of the surroundings, she felt along, reaching, sensing, and hit upon a large form vivid with life.
Katara ran after that pathway, her feet dashing over the marble floor, and followed a path through the labyrinthine halls and rooms of that palatial compound. At the back of one wing, far from the course of the central atrium they and Song dwelled in, the black shape of the owl was hunched peering at something on the floor. Without moving his body, his head swiveled around so far it should have broken his neck. He spoke with his eyes gazing wide and black and his beak curating speech. "Little waterbender, what brings you here? Humans sleep at this hour."
"I wanted to speak with you. Wan Shi Tong, please reconsider and allow us to leave. We came to find knowledge in order to better our world, but we cannot help anyone by remaining here. Our families will believe us dead and grieve for us, Song's lover will never see her again, and if Zuko remains here the Fire Nation may believe harm befell him and launch action against the Earth Kingdom. As the Firelord his nation relies on him. He is the one who forged this peace, and his sudden disappearance may upset that and bring calamity to the mortal world. After so long, we've finally ended this war against all odds, and it would be a tragedy if it restarted again so soon."
"Humans have time and again abused the knowledge I provide. I will not allow it. I have already found this Professor Zei and put an end to his academic investigation by impressing that I do not want the attention his writing brings me, and he will publish a recantation of his theory of my location."
"With respect, Wan Shi Tong, how many of these books have you yourself written?"
"Several, little waterbender."
"Several, perhaps, but this collection contains tens of thousands of works. All the rest have been written by human hands." She paused, and he blinked at her, not interrupting, waiting for her to continue. She had caught his attention. "If this collection is returned to humanity's use, it is likely that it will spark a new age of enlightenment, and many academics and writers will be inspired by what they find here and go on to produce, in time, more works for your enjoyment. Human intelligence is not produced in isolation. We bounce ideas off each other, we build upon each other's work, and we grow together upwards, starting with a few initial, fumbling, simplistic ideas and expanding that into a complex garden of thought. But this process takes time and collaboration of the type of enriching one's self by reading what others before have written, letting that wisdom brew, and, with certain insight by the combination of influences and one's own experience and unique viewpoint, birthing a new volume of creation."
"You're trying to argue it is in my favor to release my work to humans, hoping that they will write more for my enjoyment based on what they learn here."
"Yes."
"I admire your sentiments, but the last human visitor destroyed the work of one thousand humans when he torched the collection on the Fire Nation. Humans progress one step forward and two steps back. I cannot risk that happening again."
"That can't be true. At some point all of this was generated and yet not destroyed more quickly than it progressed. The odds come out in favor of growth, of creation, and not destruction."
"Little waterbender, have you thought of why this library is so large compared to your known scale of architecture? This structure used to, in a distant past, sit upon the surface of your world. And yet, thousands of years later, the largest city you have cannot produce its likeness. Why do you suppose that is?"
"I don't know."
"Once, your world teemed with vitality. Life flourished, as did spiritualism. This was in the days when airbenders could fly unassisted, when a waterbender could spend days beneath the ocean's surface without drowning, when firebenders and dragons co-existed. And then came a long march by your kind into degradation. The airbenders chained themselves to worldly concerns and their feet were shackled to the ground, the firebenders lost their connection to the origin of life, the earthbenders became confused by the different types of matter and closed themselves off as they distinguished apart that which was in fact unified. Likewise, the spirts were pushed out of this world and retreated back to our own; as we shut ourselves off from your corruption, the vitality—what you might think of as magic, or the energy of life itself—drained from your physical planet. The continental plates shrank, the land withered, the globe folded upon itself, and what had been expansive and verdant became diminutive and stagnant. I have lived a very long time. Not only have your minds, hearts, and abilities become smaller, but so has your world. The mortal realm is slowly dying, at such a slow rate that mortals find it imperceptible. Each century you shall lose more of your surroundings and of yourselves, you will find the land beneath your feet contracting and your abilities hitting limitations they did not have before, as your race continues your descent into damnation by the deprivation of your spiritual senses. I have already given up on the acquisition of more material from a dying race. Your statement does not trouble me."
"Our world is dying?"
"Yes. Humanity has cut itself off from the source of life and chosen, instead, the path of destruction, and brought upon yourselves suffering and turmoil when you had been born into paradise. You have embraced your violence and your wickedness, have sheltered the ailments of your hearts, and loved the darkness. In ignorance you spread destruction and receive destruction in kind, though you know it not."
"That can't be true. There is love and kindness still, sheltering through even war. Just look! Even Song came here to save someone she loves. What can be more pure?"
"One point of light does not change night into day. You yourself have seen the stars prove so."
"Please, I want to change your perception of humanity. The goodness does outweigh the bad. If the world is dying, help us stop it."
"You want to save your world?"
"Yes, please, I do."
"You cannot even save yourself."
"What do spirits value? What can we demonstrate to you to show our merit?"
"Truth. Integrity. Purity. Loyalty. Can you demonstrate any of these virtues, little waterbender? Can he?"
"Yes. As can Song—she's full of grace and goodness, you yourself enjoy her company so I know you believe so."
"Why do you want that girl to be released into the world? Here she is safe and provided for. Humans had their chance to create whatever world they wanted to live in, when spirits stepped back and retreated to our own domain, and what was created was a world of strife and terror. This library is a refuge of peace and tranquility. While I wish to learn about the world, of all things in the world, I do not wish to engage with it. She is better off staying here. She is so young, yet she has already suffered greatly at the hands of other humans. Why do you want to send her back out there?"
"She has someone she wants to meet."
"Oh? Bring that person here, if they are worthy and have a pure heart. You haven't answered why she would benefit from leaving. What in this world you've created is good for her? She shall labor, she shall find illness and injury with age, eventually she shall die after a lifetime of heartbreak and unfulfilled hope."
"There is merit in this world. There is beauty."
"Prove it, little waterbender. Show me what you see." His dark eyes bore into her, and she felt stripped of guile and disguise, wondering what she looked like to a spirit and waiting for his verdict.
I can show him a world worth protecting—the world Zuko made.
#
Zuko woke and looked to the sleeping form of Katara. She seemed exhausted, and even after he passed several hours helping Song prepare breakfast and then reading, she still slumbered. He wondered if she had been up all night reading something, but wanted to let her rest for the time being. Her soft hair caught the crystalline light, highlighting the deep carob hue and wavy texture.
Feeling lost, he took time for himself and retreated to a sheltered area of the garden where the pools that were fed by the falling cataracts met together. The two directional streams flowed into each other in the confines of the marble, but the water seemingly vanished without conflict and resurrected far above into the peak of the upper tower. He heard the theory, perhaps from Sokka, that water evaporated from the surface of lakes and oceans under heat of the sun, the vapor rose into the air and collected into clouds, and then it fell again as rain to replenish those sources. The same concept governed the water system of the library's botanical garden, though its rules were, rather than heat and physics, dictated by spiritual magic he could neither guess nor replicate. He plunged his hand into the water, looking at how the color distorted under the surface. The fluid was always pure and temperate, and no taint or disease ever manifested in the library—all things were purified. Of the plants in the garden, there was not a single blemish or flaw, neither for want of nutrients nor light nor irrigation even when species requiring different soil and water conditions were planted into the same bed, and everything existed in perfect balance. He thought that might be more impressive than the books. Even the universities in Caldera City and Ba Sing Se had their own expansive library archives, but a self-perpetuating garden contained indoors was a singularity without peer. There had been enough report of famine that he would have taken back, of all things, the knowledge that constructed that garden. However, the spirits certainly had no reason to provide charity for humans, and such couldn't be constructed with their conventional tools and engineering.
He raised his hand, dripping with the clear water, and turned it palm up. A small volume remained in the center of his palm when he lit fire above it. The owl would not be pleased to see it, but Zuko was far from any book and he was, by nature, a firebender, and suffered from being separated from his element. The petal-like scars impressed over the skin as only the top of many layers of damage, from callouses to earlier scar-tissue, and the fire shifted above his hand through every color he could replicate out of what the dragons had shown him. Yellow, orange, red, violet, indigo, blue, and green shifted seamlessly together. By increasing the intensity, he could create pure white; however, he could not create black fire by any feat.
The library itself was strange and had been weighing on his mind. In the long captivity and the silence he'd had time to think. While he should be raging like a caged animal, instead he felt a kind of peace and clarity of mind he'd never known, free from the anxiety and weight. He still coveted escape, but enjoyed meanwhile the serenity.
When he extinguished the flame, the pool of water at the center depression of his palm had vanished and his flesh was warmed through with pleasurable comfort. He hadn't perceived the water leaving.
The library was larger than any building he'd ever seen, giving the impression that the world used to be a larger, grander place. It reminded him of the temple where Zhao killed his father, having similarity in architectural style and scale. If this place hadn't been maintained by the owl-spirit, it too might have fallen into ruin as the temple had, and he wondered what occurred in ancient history that such glorious places fell to ruin and were lost to collective memory. Perhaps his great-grandfather was not the worst cataclysm to befall humanity, and he didn't find that comforting.
Azula set us up to be trapped here for eternity, and Zhao helped her, the two of them being in such synchronism that they hadn't needed to communicate and only schemed by telepathy to entrap us. Who knows what they'll get up to in our abscense. Jeong Jeong was right to curse me—I've put my nation in jeopardy. I need to find a way out, but the owl will kill me if I try anything.
How long will it be before my uncle concludes I've died? He lost Lu Ten, and now he'll lose me. Maybe that is what Azula wanted after all—Yuze would be my natural replacement. One day, if he is Firelord, he'll discover she was the one to birth him and he'll have her released from prison, even if he must wage a war against Kuei to accomplish it as a matter of honor. Everything will be destroyed, including his innocence; nothing good awaits him by reuniting with my sister, but he doesn't know that. Sokka will conclude I only came to harm Katara, that I was bad for her in the end, and he should have killed me when he had the chance. Everything Piandao gave to help me will be for nothing.
Despite his thoughts, the garden remained beautiful.
It was afternoon before he returned to Katara and she had finally woken up. "Good morning, sleepy-head," he teased. "Did you find yourself in a good book last night?"
"Zuko, I've had a discussion with Wan Shi Tong. I want to talk with Song about it."
They met for tea. He was amazed at her dauntless confrontation of the owl, but her proposition left him feeling intimidated. "Katara, what can we show him that would be so grand? We don't have anything here."
"It doesn't have to be grand. He said truth, integrity, purity, and loyalty. We already have all those qualities between us."
Song pulled at her skirt as if uncertain of that praise. Zuko wasn't convinced. "How are they actionable?"
"What he fears most is warfare. You yourself are the one who ended this war. You even turned against your own father to do so."
"My father was a horrible man. I had every reason to oppose him."
"You also had every reason not to."
He looked to his wrist and twisted the bracelet around, trying to think, when he heard the word 'father,' of Hakoda instead of Ozai. "Do you think telling him that story will be enough?"
"No. I think he will want more commitment, but we have that as well. We're already engaged. Zuko, we were born on opposite sides of a war and grew up hating each other. We have the ability to symbolize the end of that war. Think about the virtues he spoke of. What do those sound like?"
Aang, or my uncle, maybe. While he thought, Song replied, "Marriage." His breath caught. "Those are all affiliated with historical ideas of an ideal marriage among two ideal people, like old storybooks."
Katara nodded. "Zuko, we already have the key to solving this."
"What if we're wrong?"
"This isn't like the trial of the dragons. He won't kill us for getting it wrong. We have no reason not to try."
"We do. He might only let us have one guess, and I want to be sure of our answer before we try to solve his riddle."
Song replied, "I've known him for the longest, and I think it's the best answer we could give. Even the legend of Oma and Shu is based on the same concept, and I know he's fond of that story. You might not see it yourselves, but I think the two of you do reach that same ideal."
He sipped the tea while thinking it over. The two women seemed convinced, and he and Katara were already engaged to marry—there was nothing he wanted more than to be with her forever. Was that the kind of thing the owl wanted to see? It seems so simple-minded, like a story for children. If the owl is so wise and knowledgable, can he be satisfied with such a simple story? Doesn't he want something elaborate and complex, something more engaging? No, maybe they're right. 'Truth. Integrity. Purity. Loyalty.' None of those is particularly complex. In fact, all are associated with youth. Even a child could accomplish those virtues, perhaps more so than any adult. Can it be that easy? What would marriage mean to a spirit?
Spirits are more eternal than a mortal. From their perspective, a marriage would mean true eternity, unflinching dedication. For a mortal, what would that translate to? We only live less than a century, the flicker of a lamp compared to his lifespan.
So why is the Avatar the bridge between our worlds?
"It's worth a try," he said. "Your father won't be happy if you're married off like this without his audience."
"On the contrary, I think nothing would make him happier than a vow made before a great spirit."
"We'll ask the owl, then." He took her in his arms so he could whisper in her ear. "Don't do this to satisfy him, though. Only take my hand if you truly want this."
She held his hand, and he hugged her against himself, not wanting Song to see how overwhelmingly happy that made him, still shy to have qualities that resembled something from a storybook. He had wanted to be a story-perfect prince, once, all to please his father, and learned he was walking towards the path of atrocity instead. After flinching away from that end, she had guided him towards the true stars, and this wouldn't be pretending anymore. He had been enamored with only the fantasy version of his father, an ideal he cradled with his eyes closed, but Katara was genuine, a little drop of something better than he could have imagined. The owl seemed to like her well enough, but Zuko worried what his own judgement would be.
#
Song followed her two new friends to the domain of the owl-spirit. She had always been frightened of him, and, though she knew he lived somewhere in the lower levels, had never ventured further than the gardens. When he wanted her company, he came to her. The lines of his face were alien and unnervingly sharp, his tone chastising, and his overwhelming intellect left her feeling foolish before him, but he'd been like a father to her for three years and she couldn't help being fond of him.
Katara and Zuko walked hand-in-hand before him the next night. He looked up from his book and tilted his head at them questioningly. "What have you brought me, little waterbender?"
"An answer. You want assurance for an end of this war and an era of peace. Zuko and I were born on opposite sides of the war and we are engaged to marry. Oversee our marriage and you will have confirmation that the former chapter of the mortal world has closed, that our new era will value peace and friendship."
"For a spirit to oversee such a vow is a different matter than having a priest of your nations hold the ceremony, and requires more sacrifice than you assume."
"What will be sacrificed?"
"Humans have poor vision. Each of you has a tether to your own destiny trailing behind you through every folly and achievement, not just from your birth until your death, but across all your lifetimes."
"Lifetimes, like reincarnation? I thought only the Avatar did that."
"The Avatar is the only mortal whose reincarnation cycle is visible and recognized, but I assure you, each of you has led a thousand lifetimes and will live a thousand more, just as he has and will. When a human ordains a marriage ceremony, they certify two souls tied for a lifetime, but for a spirit it is a much different matter and a more serious commitment. If I do this for you, not only will you be tied to this firebender until your or his death, but for all your subsequent lifetimes you will be entangled together indelibly. There is no taking this action back or way to avoid your future lives being contracted together. In this ceremony I will tie together the red strings of your fates; if severed, your lives themselves will end, not for one time but forever. Humans, as I have seen, are fickle, and proclaim love where only lust exists, dedication where only limerence applies."
"If we agree to such a marriage, will you restore the library to humanity for this era?"
He stepped away from the book. In the breeze generated by his rotation, the pages shuffled heedlessly, and he gave it no notice. "The original story of humanity, what do you think that is?"
Song answered, "Love."
"Two souls living as one. This is the ability which initially caused spirits to admire humanity, though you yourselves have forgotten marriage to be an act of love and instead viewed it as an obligation and a duty to be performed joylessly. The unique ability of one human to love another and dedicate their lives to the other is something not found amongst spirits, who live solitary lives, who have always existed and were not created. We were fascinated with this difference. Throughout time, humans have composed stories of this type of eternal love and have repeated the same base story over and over again without decline of enthusiasm. The greatest virtue of humanity is the capacity for love. Spirits have always kept in high regards couples who demonstrate unwavering loyalty to each other. There is a reason stories like Oma and Shu proliferated. They are new echoes of the ancient, the narrative of the one original story universally valued by both humans and spirits of two lovers who endured anything for each other."
He continued, "This is more binding than anything you are familiar with. As the Avatar's soul is connected through all his lifetimes, so will your souls remain tied to each other through all your future lives. Having heard this, do you wish to continue?"
Katara replied, "Aang speaks of Roku like a friend, and this bond will be the same. I want to continue."
"As do I," said Zuko.
"Very well, mortals. I will conduct it and restore the library to its former glory."
Song saw in the two what she wanted for herself and Teo. For the first time since it was submerged beneath the sand to languish in desolation, the library was enchanted with activity and change. Lighting like star constellations speckled the walls in the color of fireflies, rose bushes and lilacs bloomed across every floor, and the foxes rushed making preparations. Hosted in the central tower, at the very topmost floor, the copper dome of the planetarium retracted like flower petals and revealed the stars of the true sky above them, uniting the library and the outside world. Song smelled the desert air and saw the silver river of the Milky Way stretching overhead, mirroring down onto the reflectively polished floor encasing them above and below in starlight.
She sat with the foxes to witness it as Wan Shi Tong officiated their marriage. He had called it a sacrifice, but the two couldn't have been happier to make it. Wrapping around them and bridging between, a subtle glitter disturbed the air with the red of firelilies, just at the edge of her range of human vision, though the foxes seemed to perceive it fully.
She blushed and looked to her lap as the two kissed. The fox beside her laid his head on her skirt. Smiling, she reached to pet his soft orange fur. Zuko's hand never left Katara's.
Wan Shi Tong seemed happy to learn that his books were not just forgotten stories, but still lived and breathed in flesh and blood, and that beautiful ideas still had a future chance of fulfillment. When the pair stepped down from the altar, the foxes went to congratulate them, rubbing against their legs much like cats and stepping onto their hind legs to each present them at waist-level a cut rose. Zuko gathered them into a bouquet for her. A full moon in silver unmarred by the abrasiveness of the desert shone bordered in a flawlessly clear sky. Katara had mentioned the moon, especially full, was important for waterbenders and celebrated in her culture, but Song felt like she could feel a type of enchantment from it, too.
If Katara can convince a spirit to give humanity a second chance, I can find Teo and convince him to forgive me, that I never intended to abandon him. In three years, I wonder if he's forgotten me. Please let him be well. A fox laid a rose at her skirt. Dew tipped the petals carrying heavenly fragrance.