Earth... Fire... Air... Water...

The Avatar's destiny has been fulfilled, and soon, her story will end.

AVATAR

The Celestial Sailors

BOOK THREE: DEATH

34: And What Came of It

Usagi's eyes flickered open. She squinted, blinked, grunted slightly as life returned to her. She hadn't recalled falling asleep. She took a moment to acclimate herself to breathing, to being alive and awake, to the slow process of renewal that follows a deep sleep. She felt incredibly weak and disoriented. Where was she? What had happened? How did she get here? What about the...

No.

She grunted, wincing as she tried to recollect it. No. No, no, no. She tried to sit up but found herself so weak that even this little movement was impossible, so she contented herself with studying her surroundings. She was in a small room, on a bed, with an empty fireplace in one area—the room was completely circular, like a dome; there were no corners or walls, only a fireplace and a door and a window—

No, no, no.

She grunted again. She heard a voice, someone familiar but distant, like a memory on the cusp of being recalled from the heavy fog of forgetfulness. It was kind, soft, feminine, but very tired.

"Oh, you're awake." Usagi blinked, clearing away the haze. She grunted again, not even sure if she could speak. The person approached a small table by her side, tilting a pitcher over until water poured out into a wooden bowl. "Do you need water?" the voice asked. Usagi nodded, and the person helped her sit up so she could drink comfortably. She drained the bowl and issued a gravely thanks. The person smiled: it was Michiru Kaioh.

"We'll save the rest for later. You're a bit dehydrated, so we need to be careful. How are you feeling?" Usagi swallowed. In spite of the drink, her throat felt cracked and parched, her mouth dry. She could only grunt and wheeze. "I see," Michiru said, pouring a little more water. She advised Usagi to drink slowly, then asked if she could speak. The Avatar could only whisper.

"What... Where..."

"Easy now. Just relax. If you don't have the strength to speak yet, then you shouldn't. Can you nod your head?" Usagi could. "All right. I'll try and answer any questions you may have. You just listen and rest." She poured another bowl and set it aside. "Drink it if you need to, slowly. You've..." Michiru trembled, clutched her hands, looked away. She sat back down—there was a chair next to the fireplace Usagi hadn't noticed—composed herself, and took a deep breath. "You've been through...quite a lot. More than any living person ever should. More than a hundred people ever should. But...I suppose the time for being vague is over. You rest and drink up; I'll explain everything."

"Win," Usagi managed, lifting a shaky hand. Her other lay limp and useless by her side. Michiru laughed softly, scooting closer so she could hold Usagi's hand.

"Yes, we won. You did it. Iblis is gone forever, and all his Lightbringers with him. We've won back the night."

"No," Usagi said, shaking her head. She pointed to the shaft of light cascading from outside. "Window. Close." She grunted, wincing. Michiru understood and closed the window. The room became considerably darker.

"Is that better?" Usagi nodded, and with that out of the way, Michiru was free to begin.

…...

Yes, they had won back the night, but at a very high cost. Countless thousands were dead or dying, and many more were being trended to by water-benders and fire priests and Air Nomad medics and Earth Kingdom physicians and anyone else who knew anything about medicine, surgery, healing, or therapy, both physical and mental. Saeko Mizuno had personally tended to the Avatar during those first crucial hours. Three full days had passed since Iblis was felled, and Usagi, whether she knew it or not, had nearly died herself during that time. She had faded in and out of consciousness so many times that some were beginning to despair, but in the end she had pulled through, and now here she was, on one of the many islands in the eastern archipelago of the Fire Nation—coincidentally, the one that Avatar Roku himself would call home, many ages in the future. It had been the closest civilized land to Sumeru, so that's where she was taken.

Sumeru itself was almost completely consumed by the sea. The battle that had raged across its shores had been so great that the land was cracked and shattered and blasted to bits. In a month, it would sink completely, lost and perhaps forgotten, whether for good or ill. Usagi didn't need to worry, though: the armies of the world would long be evacuated by then, along with whatever remained of their dead. The dead. Usagi winced and Michiru moved on to a different subject.

Her friends had stayed by her side during the entire ordeal; only recently had they been given leave to rest and tend to their own needs. Ami was off healing everyone she could, alongside her mother; Rei was assisting her grandfather and the royal family with whatever they needed; Makoto was helping Motoki and Unazuki organize their forces; Minako, however, had flown off on Artemis, not telling anyone where she was going or how long she'd be gone. Michiru added delicately that her father, the Sifu Kinsei, had been one of the casualties, so her behavior was perfectly understandable. Usagi's eyes squeezed shut as tears rolled out, and Michiru patiently dried them all away.

Everyone else, to Michiru's knowledge, was trying to return things to normal. Heads of state were recalling their forces back to their respective lands; promotions and accolades were being handed out; funerals were being arranged; damages were being rebuilt and restored; news was spreading that the worst was over, and a time of healing was upon them (the reappearance of the moon and the stars and the night itself proved better than any messenger). It would take weeks, months, maybe even years for things to really go back to "normal"—whatever that meant now—but the scars would heal, and then fade, and life would go on, the balance restored. Usagi would always and forever be remembered as a hero—

"Taru," she interrupted. Michiru took a moment to collect herself.

"Hotaru's fine. She's with your family. They're all here, they haven't left. Haruka's here, too. We've been taking turns watching over you, since..." She sighed heavily. "We really don't have anything else to do, or...anywhere else to go." She saw a flicker of distress cross Usagi's face, so Michiru gave her a proud smile to assuage her. "But it's a high honor; don't think for a moment that you're a burden. You know, we drew straws to see who'd take care of you first, and I think you know who won."

"Only because you cheated!" came a disgruntled voice from outside. Suddenly the window opened and Haruka poked her head and arm through, smiling coolly. "Hey there, bun-head, lookin' good! Michiru's not been too mean to you, I h—"

"Window," Usagi grunted, covering her eyes as the light penetrated the room. Haruka looked confused.

"Close the window, dear," Michiru explained. Still confused, Haruka did as requested. She knocked softly on the door and was let in, careful to close it quickly.

"Hey. Me and my lack of manners. You doing all right, buns?" Usagi withdrew, a pained expression on her face. The two older women waited patiently for her to settle, and she even managed a frail smile. Haruka was carrying a small steel pot which she set down. "Special delivery. It's only broth, but Dolphin and her mother said you're not ready for solids yet. Sorry. But you may graduate to firefly gruel before long." Michiru thanked her and ladled some of the broth into the wooden bowl. It was warm, and Usagi slurped it carefully, burping quietly when she was finished. She smiled sheepishly, which the two women mirrored.

"Speaking of manners," Haruka chuckled. She looked over at Michiru. "Do you need me to take over?"

"I should probably stretch my legs a little. Will you behave yourself while I'm gone?" Haruka smirked, winking slyly.

"Like an angel."

"No 'physical therapy' propositions, understand? That's for Saeko or Ami to do."

"We'll just talk. And eat. I promise." Michiru gave her a playful look, grunted as she stood, and made her way outside. Usagi cringed as light escaped from the open door but Haruka shaded her from it with her body.

"It's okay, bun-head. I'm here for you. I won't let anything happen to you." She held her hand, caressed her hair. Usagi relaxed.

"Thanks. M...Mamo."

"He's taking a nap right now. He barely rested while you were being tended to. We nearly had to drug him to get him to sleep. You should rest too, while you can."

"Enough?" she wondered, smiling hopefully. Haruka gazed at her sternly, then at her other hand. A ghastly scar was left on the place where Usagi had held the glaive of the Death-Bender, and no amount of healing from Saeko or anyone else had been able to mend it.

"No," Haruka replied, "you're still a bit weak. Saeko will come in later to exercise your legs, and...we'll go from there, okay? But you sleep now. If you need food or water, you let me know."

Usagi nodded. "Bath?"

"I'm just the company, kid," Haruka replied. "I'm here to feed you and watch over you. The rest is on Saeko and..." She silenced herself; Usagi had dozed off again. Tempted as Haruka was to lean over and kiss her forehead, she settled on brushing strands of hair out of Usagi's face.

…...

Day faded, ushering in the night. As Haruka slept in her chair, Usagi sat up.

…...

Day followed night, followed by days and nights again and again.

Fire Lord Kuni and Fire Lady Iku remained on Sumeru until the last of their forces was accounted for. Their daughter was pivotal in organizing and leading the armies; whenever she wasn't resting, she was working alongside her parents: guiding the heroic victors to their boats, helping bear the wounded onto medical frigates, working alongside priests for the dead and dying... She even helped bear the bodies of her fallen friends, Oboro and Salamander and Ku Sheng and Kartta. Her brother bore the body of Lark, alone, and retired to his cabin in solitude, not coming out or speaking to anyone. He ate, as evidenced by the empty plates and bowls he left at his doorstep, but aside from that, it was as though the prince was not even there. His family decided to give him privacy.

Two days after the last ship returned home, a grand funeral was held for the fallen. Statues of Kotono and Ittou's friends and loved ones were carved and erected, given places of honor next to Jaedite's steadfast effigy. Ittou attended the funeral, unable to do anything but weep. Kotono and even her parents shed tears, but while they resolved that "the time for mourning would pass, issuing better days, brighter days, happier days", Ittou remained inconsolable. He shut himself up in his room for over a week, and no amount of coercion or pleading would bring him out. Eventually his father made his way inside, spoke to the boy-prince for many hours, and brought him out, pale and red-eyed. His mother and sister embraced him, but when he was released, he seemed little improved.

He wanted to be away from court for awhile—to think, to train, to meditate, to ponder what he would do. He requested to be put under the care and tutelage of Kasei Hikawa, for as long as it took to heal, and was granted this without hesitation. His farewell was brief and private: only a few words and embraces from his parents and sister. Before he left, she whispered in his ear:

"No matter what happens, Ittou, you are my brother, and I'm proud of you. I'll always be there to welcome you back, whenever you decide the time is right. I know you'll come back to us a better, stronger person. I love you."

"I love you too, Kotono." He could barely manage the words, and left before he could soak her shoulder with his tears. The last they saw of him was his dragon, fading away into the sky.

…...

Day followed night followed by day and night again.

Minako didn't shed a single tear as she mechanically carried the torch to the bier. Sifu Kinsei's body had been completely obliterated in the battle, so a ceremonial robe had been placed over the firewood instead. She placed the brand onto the wood and held it until a conflagration had built, then took four steps away and turned to face the pyre again. She raised her hand, index finger extended and palm open, and held it for four seconds before all the other monks and acolytes and sifus offered the same gesture. They held it, steadfast, staring into the fire until it had consumed the wood completely; then, Minako raised a solemn breeze, lifting the ashes into the air. Together, all the air-benders blew a gust at the ashes, scattering them to the four winds. They all closed their eyes and bowed their heads, but Minako continued to stare into the sky, her face an emotionless, impenetrable mask. She skipped the festivities—after bidding farewell to their departed brethren, the Air Nomads usually celebrated their life with feasting, stories, games, and merriment—and flew away, once again telling nobody, not even Artemis, where she was going. She didn't speak a word for the entire service.

…...

Night came. Day came. Night. Day. Night, day.

Motoki and Makoto's honeymoon kept getting pushed back. There were fallen Tellurians who needed to be honored, alongside soldiers and officers, with just as many survivors commended and rewarded. There were people who had been displaced from their homes by the Lightbringers, fields that had rotted, fisheries filled with murk, livestock stricken by disease. The long absence of clouds had brought an unparalleled drought to the southern Earth Kingdom, and with it came famine. Motoki pushed hard for every citizen to have a job—if not as a farmer or rancher or fisher, then a trader, a merchant, an envoy, anything to help his people get back on their feet. Debts piled up, payments were delayed, and resources became scarce. There was no shortage of people volunteering for the military, as soldiers were almost always guaranteed three meals a day, and no shortage of people supplying material to the soldiers: blacksmiths, tanners, tailors, trainers, shipbuilders, carpenters, sailors, guides. Bandits rose up as well; slave labor emerged, in spite of Motoki's efforts to quash and discourage it; the people became discontent. Makoto or Unazuki almost always volunteered their services as diplomats, liaisons, arbiters, anything to help stem the tide. Motoki did what he could to assure his people, oftentimes working through the night he had so desperately fought to recover. More than once he was found passed out in his quarters, exhausted, stirred to life only by his determination to work harder, to do more. Some days, it looked as though he was on the verge of death.

There were already whispers of King Endymion's negligence floating through the halls of Ba Sing Se. "He spends more time with the Avatar than his people," they'd say, or "Things haven't been this bad since Kalkin's death," and worst of all, "Beryl wouldn't have allowed things to go this far". Deprived of Nephrite's steadfast support, the lower-ranking officers entered into bitter competition for his position, and the remaining Generals began taking sides. Wu Yung did what he could, but with the King gone, the famine continuing, and civil strife at every corner, his efforts were insufficient. Messenger-hawks were sent to Endymion every hour, and while he responded to every one, a king's signature is no substitution for the King himself.

…...

Day, night; darkness, light. Eventually people stopped fearing that this was only temporary, and became accustomed to the cycle again. Days passed, nights passed. Life slowly went on.

Gurio sighed heavily as he stared at the new marquee. The Ember Island Players were putting on a new performance in two months. Two months. The theater manager was optimistic, saying that people would be more settled by then, ready to enjoy some fresh entertainment, or at least happy to get their minds off recent events. The play would be full of action, romance, and humor, a fantastic display of escapism, just what people needed right now. There was no talk of reviving The Avenging Shadow. His time had come and gone. Besides, how in the world could he ("he" being the manager and producer) top the Shadow's last performance—not just in the theater, but in real life? It was impossible; Gurio had elevated the character from pop star to legend; anything beyond that would sully his image ("his" being the Avenging Shadow). The manager told Gurio (and Naru) not to worry, they'd always have a place in the theater. Why, just showing up would draw an inestimable crowd! Think of the buzz it would cause (he'd say): a real-life hero shows up on opening night to help promote the new material! Gurio nearly considered doing it, but then he realized that if the manager had no right to besmirch the Avenging Shadow, then neither did he. He kept the costume and put it in a chest; he locked the chest and placed it under his bed; he then bade farewell to his celebrity status.

A week later, he and Naru were on a date, walking aimlessly through the streets of Omashu to see how it had changed, and how it would always stay the same. The theater was different, but more unusual was a certain radish vendor no longer in his usual place. They found him setting up a new stall on the other side of the market, where he claimed "the real business took place" (as he sneered and dismissed his old location with a wave). He then presented them, the city's greatest heroes, with a sample of his new wares. Naru and Gurio peered at the produce.

"Lettuce?" Naru said. The former radish merchant grinned proudly.

"Not just lettuce, my boy: those are cabbages, picked fresh daily! Yes sir, cabbages are the way of the future! Everyone loves them, they're easy to grow, they go with just about anything...oh, and just look at how green and lush they are! Just listen to that texture!" The merchant snapped a leafy head in two, sprinkling droplets of water to accentuate the heavy crunch. Gurio and Naru shrugged, took a bite, and found it as delectable as advertised.

"Hmm, maybe you're onto something there, Mister, aah..."

"Luobo!" he exclaimed. "Yes sir, it's cabbages from now on! I know an opportunity when I see one! Why wallow in misery when I can take life by the horns and reign her in? Yes, cabbages are my new calling in life, and nothing will deter me! Just you wait, I'll build a cabbage empire that dwarfs the old radish business!" Luobo laughed and began ringing a bell, advertising his new wares. After hanging around for a bit, Gurio and Naru walked off, eating the rest their cabbages. When they were finished, Gurio briefly took his glasses off to polish them. Naru blushed and smiled at him.

"You know, Naru," he said as he cleaned the lenses, "that guy just gave me an idea."

"Oh?"

"Yes. When I quit the theater, I was wondering what I was going to do with the rest of my life. There's no way I can go back to being an awkward, bumbling tour guide, not after everything I've...after everything we've been though." His cheeks reddened and he took Naru's hand.

"So what did you have in mind?" she wondered.

"Well..." Somewhat embarrassed, he put his glasses back on, adjusting them as he did whenever he was nervous. "Remember how you and I pledged ourselves to King Endymion's White Lotus idea? I think...I want to take that seriously now. I want to...help Endymion and whoever else needs it—and maybe I don't have to do it alone."

"You won't," she assured him, nudging closer. His face reddened considerably, and he chuckled.

"Ahahaha, that's not entirely what I meant! Ah, I mean, I'm grateful and flattered that you wanna throw your lot in with me—I mean, I know I'm not worthy of you..."

"Gurio!" she exclaimed, berating him with her intense stare. She kissed him quickly on the lips and said, "Get to the point!"

"Right!" he squealed. "Yes! The point! I, I, I, I want to...I mean, I think that since everyone knows me as the Avenging Shadow...m-m-maybe I c-could, uh...recruit some people who want to help, and, uh...um, s-s-start the White Lotus movement thing. Um, with you, of course, if that's what you want!"

There was never any doubt in her mind. She asked him if he had kept his costume, and he told her where it was. Then she told him where she kept hers, and together, they set off for one last performance.

…...

"All right, deep breath. Count to thirty slowly. There we go. That's good. A little more...and exhale. Good. Now the other leg. Inhale. Count to thirty, good. And exhale, good. Raise your right arm to your shoulder. Good. Keep it there for a moment. Circulation's running along smoothly. All right, now the left arm. Can you move it?"

Usagi shrugged her left shoulder, but that was the best she could do. Perturbed, Ami pressed her fingers to Usagi's left wrist. She found a pulse, which was good news, and Usagi reacted to physical stimulus (pinching), which was better, but she still couldn't move her arm. Ami frowned and contemplated to herself. Usagi had no answers.

"All right, we're going to try and stand now. Let's see if you can do it a bit longer than yesterday. Up we go." She helped Usagi out of bed, where she hovered on wobbly, atrophied legs for almost an entire minute. Ami praised her as she carefully sat back down. "Wonderful! You've beaten your old record by seven seconds!"

"Hooray," Usagi murmured joylessly. Her smile was clearly made with great effort.

"You should be proud," Ami admonished her. "You've made a lot of improvements. You can drink water all by yourself now; you can sit up, speak clearly, write your name...although your penmanship is still terrible." Ami laughed respectfully; Usagi just exhaled. "Michiru even tells me you're eating porridge now," she resumed. "Pretty soon you'll have enough strength to walk all the way to the door. You'll be able to use the bathroom by yourself and even wash yourself. By the way, how's your bending?" Usagi looked over at her bedside table, where a pitcher of water and a bowl was always kept. Underneath a vase of flowers was an origami rabbit Haruka had made her. Usagi flicked her finger, and the rabbit fell off the table; with some effort, she could lift it off the ground and push it back to her hand.

"That's excellent," Ami said. "You see? You have every reason to be proud." Usagi tried to smile, but it faded as she looked up at the window. It was always kept closed during the day, and always opened during the night; Usagi was a feeble wreck otherwise. She couldn't explain why—

You know why.

She looked away, frowning. Ami noticed and tried staying positive.

"Let's do a few more leg exercises. Right leg first. All right, there we go." As Ami helped Usagi exercise her disused muscles, she reached over, cleared her throat with some water (bending it just a little inside the pitcher), and with some effort, spoke.

"How's Mina?"

Ami paused.

"I don't know," she answered quietly. "I haven't seen her since she left. The western Air Nomads said she flew off after her father's funeral."

"Hawks?"

"We've sent a few." A pause. "I've sent some. She hasn't replied."

Silence. Ami finished exercising Usagi's right leg and went on to her left.

"But it's okay. She just needs some time. I've been keeping pretty busy myself."

"Not too much," Usagi murmured. Ami brightened considerably.

"No, of course not. I make sure to take plenty of breaks. 'A doctor's no use to anybody if they can't even stand up,' as my mother said. Makoto's been busy, too. Everyone's running around." Usagi grunted and shied away a little. Ami looked at her apologetically.

"Don't feel bad. Don't you ever feel bad. You've earned this a hundred times over. Out of everyone I know, Usagi, you deserve to rest more than all of them. Besides, you need to get well. Think about yourself for once and let everyone else do what they can. All right, now your arms."

The left arm still looked like a gnarled, burnt husk. Ami dutifully bent some healing-water onto it, layer after layer.

"I hear Mamoru stopped by." Usagi smiled feebly, nodding.

"A bit. Talking. I listened. Kissed me." She grinned, finally showing some cheer. Ami was happy for that. "Went home," she resumed forlornly. "Ba Sing. Work, more work. Afraid."

"What do you mean?" Usagi instinctively caressed her withered arm. The fingers twitched a little.

"Working. Too hard. He...needs rest too. Not fair."

Ami said nothing. She started combing Usagi's long hair. By her request, it had been left unfurled. No more buns.

"Wish he wasn't king," she whispered. She started to cry, so Ami wiped the tears away. She hugged her friend, her dear Usagi, her cherished.

"I got a messenger-hawk from Kwame. You know, that young man who's friends with Gi and Ma-Ti and the others. He said his group was going to Ba Sing Se to help out. He said that that's where he felt he was needed the most. I told them it was a wonderful idea, and that both you and Mamoru would appreciate it."

Usagi nodded, feeling a little more relieved. "Suen?"

"They're visiting the Southern Water Tribe. Both poles lost their chiefs in the fight, so they wanted to help out until another one was selected. Do you want to try standing again?" Usagi nodded and made it one minute two seconds before her legs gave out. Two new records in one day. Ami opened the window as soon as the sun set under the horizon, and told Usagi that the moon was in a "waning crescent" phase, meaning that soon it would be gone from the night sky completely.

"But that's what we call a 'new moon'. And it's still there, even though we can't see it."

"A new moon," Usagi whispered, looking out at the last traces of light. A star had already begun to twinkle in the twilight sky. A moon of light, fading into the darkness only to be renewed...

Usagi's mother came by to relieve Ami from her shift, but before she left, Usagi took her by the hand, staring intensely.

"Find Mina. Please."

Ami stood cold before nodding her head. As she left, she noticed Haruka and Michiru close by, relaxing under a tree. She didn't want to interrupt them, but...this was important.

"Excuse me," she said as she approached. "Sorry, this will only be a moment. Haruka, do you know where I can find an air-bison?" Haruka and Michiru exchanged glances before the former sat up.

"Yeah, sure. I don't have one myself, but..."

"That's all right, I just need a ride somewhere."

"Where are you going?" Haruka said. Ami took a deep breath.

…...

All of the bandits save for their leader were brushed aside and pinned to the canyon wall. Layers of air continued to press against them, smothering and crushing. The leader was lifted up, a dome of air encasing his head, and though he clawed and struggled, he couldn't free himself from the woman's grasp. Slowly, the air was drawn out of his lungs; slowly, he suffocated, as his men were squashed around him and the woman looked on without pity. The wind pulled at her long blonde hair as she drew the life out of the bandit's throat.

The End of "And What Came of It".

Next time: "Nightmares"