Book 4: Light and Darkness

by ButtonPusherExtraordinaire

Air's murder was a symptom. The Great War was over, but the Greater War endured. The Realms are imbalanced, and Air's loss is but a sign. Years after Sozin's Comet, The Avatar's most ancient enemy reminds The Avatar of his existence. Lies and truths are disordered as the roots are infected from the chaos, to which The Avatar was ignorant. Things must change. The cycle must end. AU!

9. Chakras

Thank you for the reviews. I appreciate them.

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender

XxXxXxXxXxX

Kuei was dead—because Aang killed him.

It was a dismaying fact that Katara could only obsess about, despite her immense efforts not to. All she could imagine was Aang in The Avatar State, roaring and raging, winds howling as he destroyed Ba Sing Se, gray eyes consumed by those terrible white orbs. She was horrified and stricken, but she seemed to be the only one!

Iroh was far more reactive about the Order of the White Lotus's slaughter, which was still tragic but not the same as Ba Sing Se itself! Ursa took the news in stride, only nodding and analyzing, but at least her golden eyes were shadowed with mourning. Meanwhile, Sokka seemed almost gleeful at moments because it meant that, likely, he would remain Chief of the North and South; the loss of all the lives in Ba Sing Se clearly bothered him, but it wasn't at theh level that it should, like it did her. Zuko was unapologetically grateful about Kuei's death, but he seemed unsurprised and resigned about Ba Sing Se's loss, like it wasn't an impossibility. She knew being raised by Ozai was awful, but how could he just accept that loss?

How could anyone?

Suki seemed closest to her in sadness, but Suki clearly didn't feel the distraught hysteria that Katara felt ever since hearing the news.

Ba Sing Se was dead! Kuei was dead! The Council of Five were dead! The Dai Li were dead! All the people who lived in Ba Sing Se were dead, names unknown and forgotten!

And it was because of Aang, which was the worst part, the most horrifying and monstrous! That kind, innocent boy she awakened from a century of sleep had transformed into a killer more lethal and efficient than any she had ever conceived; that kind, innocent boy was cold, cruel, and intimidating, throwing Sokka around the room like it was the easiest thing in the world; that kind, innocent boy she loved was so far gone she couldn't find any semblance of him in Aang.

It was horrible!

Katara had felt a little better after speaking with Zuko, but she needed more! She had tried his private study, but he wasn't there, which left another option, provided by Iroh. Her pace toward the royal garden was urgent and frantic, and her strides were uneven, breathing quick, but she needed someone to understand about Aang. Because Aang wasn't Aang; he was someone else, and it was wrong!

She entered the royal garden, hoping to see Zuko but saw Ursa alone, instead. Panic almost consumed her until she felt a calm descend over her because Ursa could help her, right? She raised Azula, who was a monster, but Ursa accepted her. Katara couldn't accept Aang, but maybe Ursa could help.

Quickly making a decision after hesitating for a moment, Katara approached with a smile. "Do you mind if I join you, Ursa?"

Ursa motioned for her to sit, and she did. "Not at all. Have you been out here before?"

Seeing Ursa's calm made Katara feel calmer, and she nodded. "Yes. Iroh showed it to me, and we had a long conversation."

"Most informative, I imagine."

"It was," Katara agreed with a slight laugh, amazed at how at ease she felt with Ursa. But she had never been alone with Ursa since her arrival to the Fire Nation. Maybe nervousness was the reason. But her predicament with Aang didn't seem as important. "We talked a lot, and I learned a lot. He's very wise."

Ursa laughed slightly. "He earned his wisdom, I assure you."

Katara swallowed, seeing an opportunity to pursue something that had gnawed at her since learning the truth from Iroh. "And you earned yours. I just wanted to thank you."

Ursa's head tilted, and her golden eyes crinkled. "What for?"

Katara hesitated. "Iroh told me about what you did for Zuko to protect him, to save his life."

Silence.

"I see," Ursa said after several moments, face blank.

She quickly shook her head. "I think it's amazing." Her eyes bulged in dread. "No! I mean, it's horrible, but I think you're amazing for doing it, for being willing to do it. I mean, I know you were tricked because it was a trick, but you were a true mom, saving your child's life. I wanted to thank you for being that for Zuko."

Those golden eyes were intense. "Why?"

"My mom saved my life," she said quickly. "And she was murdered protecting me. I just want you to know that I appreciate what you did for Zuko, even if it was a trick by Ozai. My mom did the same for me, and I think that makes you incredible—like she was."

Ursa's golden eyes softened. "An attack?"

Katara swallowed. "To find and kill the last Waterbender in the South."

"And she said she was the last Waterbender to protect you, her only daughter," Ursa surmised easily, but since she was a mother herself and had done something similar, Katara felt no surprise. But she felt surprised when Ursa inclined her head with morose respect on her face. "A true woman; a true mother. Your mother was a good woman, a most honorable one. I can only offer you my condolences and regret that your mother was taken so violently from you and your family."

The familiar grief stirred inside, and she tried to smile. "Thank you. She was amazing, and I miss her every day. I try to do her memory proud, but I know I don't always succeed."

"No one does," Ursa observed kindly. "During my banishment, I tried to do the memory of my children proud, tried to be the woman and mother they thought I was, but I failed fundamentally. If I was her, I would have never left, even under threat of Agni's damnation."

"We're kind of similar, I guess," she said, hoping Ursa wouldn't be offended. "We're mothers who abandoned their children."

Ursa's eyes narrowed, and all Katara saw was Azula. "I was unaware you bore a child."

Katara shook her head. "I haven't. I'm talking about Aang. I was his mother during the Great War- "

"And his father? Who acted as his father?"

She paused, shocked by the question, for it had never occurred to her. "I guess it would be Sokka, but Sokka didn't really take that role, not really. Maybe Zuko. If Zuko joined us earlier, if we had more time, he probably would have become Aang's dad, kind of. But I was Aang's mother during the Great War, and I swore to be, but I abandoned him after, leaving him alone. And it was so wrong and horrible, and I regret it every day. The point is—you had to do work to reconnect with your children. And I've tried to reconnect with Aang, but it's gone so wrong. How did you do it?" Her desperation seeped out of her. "How?"

Ursa assessed her for several moments before looking at the water in the pond. "I will not tell you platitudes."

"Good."

"Children want their mother and father's attention, the commitment and love provided by each. It is not much on the surface, but it is everything. And I doubt Avatar Aang was different. But you fled and abandoned, instead. You left him—alone. And now he is beyond your reach with so much anger and distrust clouding the distance between you. You will have to wade through the haze and do the work."

"But what work? What does that mean? What did you do? How did you do it?"

"I had to let go of the expectation of having back that sweet but easily frustrated little boy and that mischievous but daring little girl because neither were coming back, and I had to accept the recognizable strangers in front of me as my children. It was very difficult, likely the hardest thing I shall ever face in my life. And I grieved the clear changes in my children, who were not as I remembered, and if they were, it was minimal and rare; I grieved for a long time, and in many ways, I suppose I still grieve. I never wanted a son so angry and a daughter so prideful, but they are mine, and they will be always; they are my children who I watched grow—until I did not. I do not approve of what they do always, but I accept them. That is what I had to do, Katara, and I suspect you will have to do something similar for Avatar Aang."

Katara blinked away tears and nodded. "But how do I do it?"

Ursa glanced at her. "I loved that boy, and I loved that girl—I cherished both of them—but both are no more, not fully; one is a man, and the other is a woman, and I have come to love them both, but it took time. Time progresses ever onward, and you cannot maintain all that is in your keeping, for it inevitably becomes what was. I dedicated myself—I devoted myself—to connecting with who Zuko and Azula are, not who they were and diminish them by looking for who they were. It felt impossible at times, many times, but I loved them. That does not mean I approve everything they do, for I do not, but I try to be there for both of them."

"But who Aang is now is Ba Sing Se's murderer," she whispered, hugging herself. "I can't even think of that without feeling sick."

"You do not approve of what those you love do," Ursa reminded kindly. "For our loved ones are capable of tremendous catastrophe and rage. But you love. My life is not their lives, and their lives are not my life; rather, we are part of each other's lives, whether we like it or not. I live my life, and they are part of my life, just as how they each live their lives, and I am part of each of their lives. Both of my children are killers, probably murderers, but though I am disgusted, distraught, and disappointed, I accept—not what they did—but the fact that they did do those things. I will never approve of much of what Zuko and Azula did during the Great War, the crimes I know each of them committed, but I love them. You must learn to love who Avatar Aang is, not who he was. That does not mean you forget who he was, but you accept who he is, which means understanding that he is Ba Sing Se's murderer; you do not love the fact that he murdered Ba Sing Se, but you accept that he is the Murderer of Ba Sing Se, accepting him completely and utterly. I accepted my children completely and utterly—or tried to and am still trying to—as they are and choose to be because they are mine, and I will do anything for them. That is all you can do—or not do. Whether you choose to do that is up to you."

Katara sniffed and didn't try to stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. "I'm so sad to see and hear what he's become, and I don't like it."

Ursa nodded. "Yes. I did not like who Zuko and Azula became. It broke my broken heart. But I did not stop nor give up; I accepted it and worked to accept and love them. They were worth it. Is Avatar Aang worth it?"

"Of course," she replied automatically.

"Then are you worthy to the challenge?"

Katara faltered. "That's what I don't know. I don't know how to accept what Aang did and what—who—he is now. How did you accept Zuko and Azula?"

Ursa smiled sadly. "You know what happened to my children's grandfather, and you know the role I played in realizing it. Zuko and Azula's hands are not clean, not at all, but mine are not, either. No one's hands are clean. We all face unpleasant realities and make mistakes—many mistakes—in trying to make the unpleasantness pleasant, trying to do the best we can. I realized that Zuko and Azula did the best they could; they tried, and that—this—is the result. I think Avatar Aang did the best he could, too."

The tears thickened in her eyes, and she swiped them away. "I know he did, but I just wish he didn't lose his way."

"Perhaps he did not lose his way," Ursa challenged kindly. "I once thought similarly about Zuko and Azula, but I realize now they were always finding their way, stuck in that process until they matured. The moment your children lose their way, the way you impose on them as their mother, their parent, is when they begin finding their way, and Avatar Aang still has to find his way. Perhaps we all do."

"Even Zuko?" she asked.

"He is still finding his way. In many ways, he has, but there are other ways in which he searches restlessly. Sometimes, I wish he could be that sweet little boy again, but I know that he can only find that sweet little boy and remember him when he is older. But other times, I am unsure. I do not know if a man can become a boy again. But I think it is more possible for a woman to become a girl again. When Azula returned that day with Avatar Aang before departing for Ba Sing Se, I was so joyful, for I saw more of that little girl than I had in so long." Ursa swallowed and wiped tears from her eyes. "She was there in front of me, and I loved her so much; I was in awe. I am forever in Avatar Aang's debt, for I know he helped find that little girl."

Katara found herself smiling. "I'm happy for you. I hate Azula—or hate who she was—but I'm happy for you. I hope you don't mind me saying, but you remind me of my mom."

Ursa smiled. "If you are anything like her, I would love to have encountered her."

"I like to think I'm like her," she admitted, feeling somewhat shy and bashful. "She was amazing and beautiful."

"I suspect you are like her. She had a profound influence on you, and, naturally, you mimic her to the best of your ability because of it."

"Is that how you were with your mother?" Katara asked, recalling Ursa's brief account of her mother.

Ursa was quiet for several moments. "My mother and I were complicated. I was a surprise to her, unexpected and unforeseen; she was in her nineties when she bore me."

Katara's eyes bulged from their sockets. "Really?"

"She was a powerful Firebender, but my birth took so much out of her. But she loved me as she could, and I see that now. I did not then, but I do now. I am much fonder of her now than I was then. I rather regret how I treated her."

"What about your father?"

"I have the barest memory of my father before his passing, but that memory may be of another man for all I know. All I know is what my mother told me. I know he was a strong Firebender—he had to be to attract my mother—but he loved firewhiskey more than he ever did my mother. And his love killed him."

Katara thought of Zuko and his obvious delight in firewhiskey. "I see," she said softly.

"It was only my mother and I for a long time. She tried to control me to prevent her family's fate from passing onto me, and I resented her for it. Immediately after she died, I left our village and traveled to the Caldera to do the opposite of what she ordered—I made a name for myself and brought much attention to myself, progressing rapidly through the Academy with my abilities until Azulon himself noticed me. Then I met Ozai, and we were wed."

"And your mother wouldn't approve," she guessed.

Ursa laughed slightly. "The more I age, the more I wonder about her and the experiences she faced. I knew so little of her before she died, in all honesty; I experienced her only at her end, not at her middle and certainly not at her beginning. I had a brief glimpse of her and can only imagine her totality as a woman. I would have liked to know the woman she was. I suspect there would be a lot more similarities between us than differences. I think of her a lot more than I used to. I wonder often what she would think of me; I wonder if she would disown me for marrying into Sozin's line. She hated Sozin with a passion; she was convinced that Sozin ended her entire family, and she may be right, but she lacked evidence for it. She lived in dread that Sozin would find her for decades, and that fear passed onto Azulon when he ascended the Dragon's Throne. She thought that if it was known that Roku's lineage endured, tragedy would befall her and myself. She was right—tragedy did befall me, but not in the way I ever imagined."

"She'd probably applaud that you murdered Sozin's son," Katara said quietly, averting her eyes.

"Likely," Ursa agreed, nodding her head. "She lost so much to Sozin."

"But she is at peace now, finally."

Ursa picked at something on her sleeves. "She told me before she died that a beautiful man saved her life from execution before the beginning of the Great War; she said he was the most powerful Firebender she ever encountered, and my mother lived a long life and encountered many people, including her father, Avatar Roku, her sister, who was a mighty Firebender, Sozin, and Sozin's second wife, Ozai's grandmother. She said she wanted to love this man; she said she offered herself fully to him as a repayment for saving her life. He saved her from suffering, and she wanted to save him from his suffering. She said she never saw such potent loneliness before, but at the same time, he carried a raw power beyond her conceptions, a wildness that called to her. She said there was a physical, overwhelming bearing that was tangible; he looked indomitable and determined—impervious with ferocity. His renown was something that had to be seen, and she said to see him was to remember him forever; she said to meet him was to love him instantly and completely. And she believed that he could kill Sozin. My mother offered herself to him, wanting to give him a love to remember, a reprieve from his immense, tangible burdens, but he refused. He rejected her advances and went off to find and kill Sozin before he could unleash the Great War, and my mother never saw him again. Sozin killed him. She said that she tried desperately to make him see reason and bring her with him, to face Sozin together, but he was more stubborn that anyone she ever met; he refused to yield. She said his conviction in his supremacy over Sozin was impossible to deny and not believe, and she let him go."

Katara nodded, unsurprised. "He sounds like a true Firebender."

"She never told me his name, but I have considered him from time to time in my musings," Ursa commented after a moment. "I find a kinship with him, for he did what he had to, fighting the impossible odds, while I did what I had to. He sought Sozin and hunted him. And this was before the Great War. This man foresaw the Great War, tortured by dreams of its realization, and he tried to prevent it by targeting Sozin, but he failed. While no one believed a war of such magnitude was possible, not even my mother who had deep suspicions of what Sozin planned, this man recognized its imminent possibility—its inevitability. After the Great War, every man in the world not of Fire sought to kill Sozin. But this man was ahead of everyone else and saw what others could not and did what others could not. He knew his belief, and he understood it. But to have that kind of belief when so many in the world do not is impressive and striking; it is moving. To defy the social pressures and powers to do what he knew was right is a remarkable example we should all follow—but so few do. The story of this man stuck with me always, for if one man was willing to challenge Sozin before the Great War when no one else was willing, I could challenge where I needed to. I failed to follow this man's example, but it gives me faith that a man like him existed once—for a man like him will exist again. He had a profound influence on my mother, even though she knew him for a single day, but he transformed her perspective; he showed her what it means to love and have loyalty. She said he was married and refused her advances out of love for his wife. And my mother was a beautiful woman, even in her final days. But in her prime, she was a marvel to behold."

"Like you and Azula, right?"

Ursa glanced at her amused. "I accept your flattery as my mother would. I hope she meets this man in the Gardens. She spoke of him in a way she never spoke of anyone else as long as I knew her; there was a deep respect, admiration, longing, and grief. She did not love him, and she attested that she did not love him, but she said she could have loved him if given the time, if given the chance, and it would have been a love lasting and pure, but she never had the chance to, and she blamed Sozin for robbing her of that chance. I think it was one of her biggest regrets, if not her biggest regret, during her life."

"I hope she sees him again, too," Katara whispered. "The Great War took so much from everyone. But Sozin won and kept winning; he lived for decades longer."

"There is no escaping the inevitable," Ursa said, voice serene. "There is no escaping Fate. The Great War was destined to happen, and we were all destined to be part of the Great War, influenced so profoundly by it. And that included my mother. I used to despise how much I imitated her, how similar we were, but now I feel comfortable with it; I am grateful, for it connects me with her, my mother who experienced so much, from her birth to her death."

"Azula will probably be the same, right?" she asked. "I've already noticed a lot of similarities between you two."

To her surprise, Ursa's face tightened, and her resulting smile was similarly tight. "Azula loathes whatever similarities she bears to me. As much as you adore your mother and work to remember her, Azula resents me and tries to forget me."

Katara's eyes widened in horror. "But why? You're an amazing mom!"

Ursa sighed and looked to the pond; her gaze was distant. "I am a complicated mother, for motherhood is complicated. You make choices for your children that your children will not understand for decades—if they ever understand those choices and why you made them. You make decisions that impact your children, and you think that it is the correct decision in the moment when each decision is made, and that you conceived all the angles regarding your son and daughter, but consequences arise that make all your good intentions irrelevant and cruel. I bear much guilt for what happened after I fled, for the results of my absence are beyond what I imagined. I never conceived that Ozai would mar our son's face and madden Azula until her sanity crumbled. I failed as a mother, and I will endure my failure forever; the shame and guilt have taken years off my life. I must confess that I envy your fondness and awe for your mother, who has a daughter who honors her and remembers her lovingly rather than a daughter who despises her and smears her as a whore."

"I'm sorry," she consoled. "But you have Zuko, at least. Maybe Azula will one day realize why you made the decisions you did, like you mentioned."

"Perhaps."

Silence.

"My son bore the potency of Azula's lightning for you," Ursa said after several long moments, and Katara stiffened as the golden eyes turned to her, unreadable. "He was willing to sacrifice his life for yours. But it was imperative that he live, for he was Fire's heir, the only viable heir to sit on the Dragon's Throne and lead Fire to peace and betterment, cleansing us of our damnation in Earth and Water's eyes. If he died, only Azula, Iroh, and Ozai could sit on the Dragon's Throne. Azula would never last long on the Dragon's Throne, even if she was stable; she would hate it, which I always knew and believe she realizes now. But further, Azula's presence on the Dragon's Throne could not lead to peace with Earth nor Water. Iroh would sit on the Dragon's Throne if he had to, but there would still be no peace. And while much of the nobility would control Azula, they would resent Iroh and quietly work to undermine him until they found a worthy replacement—Ozai."

Katara shook her head, barely keeping up; there was a sudden roaring in her ears. "Ozai didn't have his firebending. I thought that's a fundamental requirement to sit on the Dragon's Throne."

"Ozai would be more acceptable than Iroh, to the nobility. And since Avatar Aang did not kill Ozai, he would have been released from his prison and re-ascended the Dragon's Throne, perhaps reawakening his firebending since it is possible—and I assure you, there is not a man in this world who matches his determination. Peace was only possible if Zuko lived and ascended the Dragon's Throne. At the risk of sounding cruel and bias, Zuko's life was worth much more than yours. And he knew all of that, deep down, for he is greatly intelligent, and he knew the grim and severe consequences of his death, the fate that would befall Fire without him to lead us, but he was willing to accept the consequences to save you, taking Azula's lightning to his chest. Why did he do that, Katara?"

She swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut as the images of that terrible day assaulted her like the cold in the South, consuming her. "I don't know."

"Iroh thinks Zuko would have done the same for any of your group," Ursa continued with something in her voice that Katara feared to identify. "But I disagree. My son is rash and impulsive, but about the future of the Fire Nation he is deliberate and calculating—much like his father, honestly. I am convinced for only Avatar Aang would he have made such a sacrifice—because The Avatar matters more, especially during such a turbulent, monumental moment in history. But for your brother, no; for Lady Toph, no; for Princess Suki, no; for you, no, he should not have been willing to do such a thing. But he was willing to die for you, and it provokes my wonder. Why among you all would he choose—choose—to die for you? Why would he react without thinking for you?"

"I don't know," she whispered, hoping she didn't sound as pleading as she thought she did.

Ursa looked dissatisfied. "I would hope you have a suspicion as to why my son would die for you."

"What does Zuko say?" Katara asked, heart racing, feeling short of breath.

"He has never spoken about it, and that, too, provokes my wonder."

Katara felt the absurd urge to fidget. "I forgave him after he helped me- "

"Forgave him for what?" Ursa challenged, brows rising. "For being a Child of Fire? For being of Sozin's line?"

She shook her head. "No, that wasn't really it. We were in Ba Sing Se once, and I chose to trust him. He even talked about you a little bit, and it made me trust him. But then he joined Azula, and Aang was nearly killed because of it."

Ursa nodded knowingly. "The Ba Sing Se catacombs."

Her eyes widened. "Zuko told you?"

"No. Upon Zuko and Azula's return to the Fire Nation, the news spread everywhere, and everyone spoke of it; it was impossible not to hear, and I heard. At once, I was proud of him for accomplishing such a renowned feat, but I felt a deep mourning, for I descend from The Avatar—and Zuko and Azula, too."

Katara hesitated. "But Azula's the one who did it. Did Zuko take credit for it?"

"It was one of my daughter's games, and, as always, her brother was the foremost player in her game," Ursa dismissed, waving a hand, and she looked exactly like Azula—or Azula looked exactly like her, Katara was realizing. "For what did you forgive my son?"

"For betraying us in Ba Sing Se. Of course, now I realize it was foolish to think that he would join us, but I thought he could then; I thought he could be ready to do that. But he needed to go home, and now that I understand why he was banished, I know why he made the decision he did. It makes sense. But I was so angry and hurt by it for a long time."

"What did he do to earn your forgiveness?"

She looked down at the water in the pond, watching it sway beautifully and soothingly. "He found my mom's murderer, and he took me to him. He gave me the chance to avenge her."

Ursa apparently felt no surprise by such a fact, unlike Katara, who still felt surprised and awed that Zuko had been willing to do that. "And did you murder her murderer?"

Katara shook her head, throat tight. "No. Zuko just let me make my decision, and he didn't say it was right or wrong. I asked him after, and he said he wasn't going to make me choose or pressure me one way or the other. If I killed him, he was going to be by my side, and if I spared him, he was going to be by my side—and he was. He just trusted me like no one has ever trusted me." Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she tried to smile at Ursa. "You raised a beautiful son. I can only hope my son is as beautiful as Zuko is."

"Do you hope your son will sacrifice his life for a girl unworthy of it?"

She flinched. "Of course not."

Ursa nodded, golden eyes piercing, but there was kindness underneath. "Why do you think he did it?"

"Because he's my friend."

"He was your friend, yes, but I am convinced he would not have made that sacrifice for his other friends, except for Avatar Aang. Why you? Why are you different?"

Katara felt helpless. "I don't know, and I mean that. I really don't know. I've asked myself that for years."

"But you never asked him because you dropped contact."

Silence.

She bowed her head. "I know; I did."

"As his mother, it has grieved me extensively since my return to see the evidence of your neglect in Zuko—and his other friends but Avatar Aang, too. But I have a suspicion as to why he 'died' to save you, but it is only a theory. You must understand the men of Sozin's line, beginning with Sozin."

She hesitated. "I'd rather not understand them."

"Then how are you to understand Zuko?"

"By talking to him."

"But you did not talk to him for years."

Katara flinched. "Okay. What do I need to know?"

"I do not know if Sozin's father, Fire Lord Kohaku, was the same, but Sozin loved his two wives instantly when he met each of them, decades apart; Azulon loved Ilah instantly upon meeting her; Iroh loved his wife, Natsumi, instantly when he met her; and Ozai loved me instantly when we met. It seems probable that Zuko would love the same—instantly."

Understanding Ursa's insinuation, Katara shook her head automatically. "No, no. When I met Zuko, he threatened to burn down what was left in the South because he was looking for Aang. He looked at me with disgust and distrust—I remember. He never loved me, especially not 'instantly.'"

Ursa only smiled slightly, looking amused. "Because you were an enemy, and my son can be incredibly close-minded—or he was. But once you forgave him and treated him kindly, perhaps he loved you, 'seeing' you for the 'first time.' Perhaps that is why he was willing to die for you—because he loved you or was close to it."

Silence.

Katara stared at the water in the pond, hoping it would confirm or deny, but there was nothing; there were only her thoughts, which grew louder and more chaotic. It seemed insane to say that Zuko loved her, but there was logic to Ursa's theory, and she looked at events differently. Zuko took Azula's terrible lightning for her, but she always thought that he would have done that for anyone in the Gaang. Well, he would have for Aang, absolutely. But what about Sokka? Now Katara wasn't sure; she was beginning to feel it was likely, especially with how she had seen Zuko and Sokka interact now, that Zuko would have just expected Sokka to deal with it or jump out of the way. What about Suki? Now Katara felt certain that he wouldn't have saved Suki. What about Toph? Now Katara wasn't sure.

But Zuko sacrificed himself for her, even with all those consequences that Ursa listed, consequences Katara had never even realized.

What did that mean about her?

After all, why had she been so furious and hurt after Ba Sing Se? She treated Jet, who tried to murder an entire village, better after his betrayal than she had Zuko, whose betrayal actually made sense. And she always thought they shared a connection, and she was certainly attracted to him now. But perhaps that was only building from a foundation that was already there.

She didn't love Zuko, not then, but there was something. But she didn't feel certain that Zuko loved her; maybe it was only an infatuation. After all, she could admit there were many reasons to be infatuated with her. Right?

"Do you know where Zuko is?" she asked quietly.

Something disappointed swept across Ursa's face before it was gone. "I suspect he is nurturing a habit I dislike."

Katara nodded knowingly. "The firewhiskey."

Ursa laughed slightly. "I suppose so."

She stood to her feet, feeling an urgency gnaw at her. "Do you think he's in his private study? He wasn't earlier."

"He likely is now."

Katara bowed the way Zuko had begrudgingly showed her. "You have honored me. Thank you. I need to speak with Zuko."

There was something sad in Ursa's smile. "Good luck."

When she reached Zuko's private study, the Imperial Firebenders swiftly opened the doors and ushered her in before leaving her inside, alone with Zuko, who was alone.

Not anymore.

Katara smiled in greeting, hoping it didn't look as frayed as it felt. "I was looking for you. I came by earlier, but you weren't here."

Zuko's only brow rose. "Is something wrong?"

She stared at his bearded face, trying to find a sign that Ursa's theory was correct, but there were no signs. "Where were you?" she asked instead, unable to bring herself to ask the question she burned to ask. Their situation was still precarious, and she didn't want to ruin the small strides they had made by asking something that could only anger him.

Zuko grunted, looking annoyed. "I visited Mai and Ty Lee, but they won't tell me anything. I don't understand. I don't even know why they hate me. I saved their lives, and they try to assassinate me? It doesn't make sense."

Katara smiled sadly. "Maybe Aang will know."

"He better."

"Have you heard back?"

"Not yet."

She nodded, unsurprised. "What are you doing now?"

Zuko hesitated slightly. "I have an appointment soon."

Katara's brows rose. "With your advisors?"

"Yes."

"About the situation in the Earth Kingdom?"

"Yes."

She took a step closer, somewhat hopeful. "Can I join you? I think I should be more involved with everything, especially the politics."

Zuko's eyes widened briefly before he shook his head. "No, I don't think that's a good idea."

Katara frowned. "Why not? I'm the Princess of the South, remember? I need to make up for lost time in dealing with the politics. Maybe if I had been involved from the beginning, or a little after, things wouldn't have gotten so bad."

"Someone's full of herself."

She rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. "I think I should be there."

"I still don't think it's a good idea."

"But why? I think I could be helpful."

Zuko sighed. "It's complicated, and I don't want to have to explain everything."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're lying. What is it?" A terrible thought occurred to her, but it made too much sense. "It's me, isn't it? You just don't want me around."

Silence.

"Katara, I need you to go."

She stared at him before bowing her head. "Just let me know if you change your mind."

"I will."

Katara left immediately, not looking back—because she feared what Zuko would see on her face.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Zuko hissed through his teeth and paced in his private study, annoyed that Katara made him doubt things. Just when he was convinced and looking forward to peace, she ruined it. Why—why? His pacing continued, and the guilt gnawed at him, but she deserved it, didn't she? After all the dragonshit she put him through, all the disregard, she deserved his disregard! She did! Yes, she saved his life from Mai and Ty Lee, but she would save anyone's life. She would save Kuei's life if it came down to it! She had saved her mother's murderer's life, after all!

But the guilt remained.

Minutes after Katara left, the Imperial Firebenders, as usual, escorted one of the concubines—nameless but familiar; he had used her before—into his private study before departing just as quickly.

Zuko stared at the concubine and felt the familiar impulses, but they were distant rather than immediate; they were at the back of his mind rather than the front. But they should be at the front, and they were before Katara had showed up for several minutes. It had been far too long since he had achieved a release for his tension, and he had achieved far too few releases since Katara, Sokka, Suki, and Toph had arrived all those months ago.

And he needed release.

It was either the concubine or sparring, but Uncle refused to spar with him, and he didn't want to spar with Mother. That left Sokka, Suki, or Katara. He was wary of sparring with Sokka, concerned that his rage would spring to life and that he might accidentally kill him. And he didn't want to spar with Suki because that felt awkward. That left Katara, but he really didn't want to spar with her because he knew he would desire a different kind of release with her after—and observing her in training garbs would only increase his need for release.

"It is an honor to serve you, Fire Lord," the concubine greeted, head bowed. "How shall I devote myself to you?"

"Sexually."

"What services do Agni's son demand?"

"All of them," Zuko replied, falling easily into the routine.

The concubine raised her face, decorated to provoke arousal, and Zuko watched as she undressed, revealing smooth flesh and enticing breasts. She stood bare in front of him, waiting for his permission to begin, and the arousal was deafening in its intensity—but he was still distant to it. His body burned, but his mind felt lethargic, like he was traveling through that winter storm above the Spirit Oasis in the North.

Zuko remained quiet for several moments, gazing at her, before he reclined on one of the couches, relieving himself of the pressure by slipping out of his trousers, which pooled at his knees. "Start your service."

The concubine approached on her knees, gaze enticing and promising. She positioned herself between his legs, his erection her target, and began her ministrations with rhythmic force. His body relaxed in response, but his mind did not. Only part of him enjoyed her service, which made it dull and tedious. There was no reprieve as he wanted; if anything, he only felt more tense because his mind was slipping clearly into insanity just as Azula's mind had.

Fuck.

"Stop," Zuko ordered, hating that he actually voiced it, but he couldn't change course.

She looked up at him with hooded eyes. "Have I disappointed you?"

"No. I have a meeting I forgot about," he lied, the terrible frustration in his voice real and raw.

The concubine backed away and bowed her head. "Shall I wait here, Fire Lord?"

He pulled his trousers up and adjusted his softening penis back inside, where it wasn't happy. "No. Leave me."

"As you wish, Fire Lord," she said, tone unchanged.

The concubine swiftly gathered her clothes with minimal movements, the result of much practice, redressed, and departed his private study, leaving him alone with his humiliation.

Zuko grit his teeth and groaned in disgust.

He was weak.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Aang stared at Pathik incredulously. "What do you mean The Dark Avatar?"

Pathik's smile was old but generous. "This is what I tried to warn you about, Aang- "

"You shouldn't have been so subtle about it!"

"I only had suspicions; I did not want to mislead you."

He recalled the opening words to Ozai's poem: To battle a god, a god you must be. "What is The Dark Avatar?"

"Perhaps you will understand by realizing you are The Light Avatar."

Aang leaned back in understanding. "Raava and Vaatu."

Pathik nodded. "Yes. Vaatu is- "

"Don't say his name!"

"I am pure of the darkness he could manipulate," Pathik dismissed with a smile. "Vaatu is Raava's opposite. One is Light and the other Darkness. Vaatu knows that he can't defeat you because you are too powerful. I suspect that he liberated Ozai to begin the process of creating his own Avatar—The Dark Avatar. He seeks to recreate Raava's sacrifice with Ozai."

Aang ran his hand through his hair, dismayed that the complicated puzzle was only growing and becoming more complicated with each passing day. "He wants to acquire all the elements and create his own avatar cycle," he concluded. "It's insane."

"But possible," Pathik stressed. "I fear it is much more possible than you consider. Since his release, Ozai has regained his firebending—a terrifying thought—and likely already has begun his earthbending training. He will master the elements the opposite way you did—Fire, Earth, Water, and Air—because he will be your opposite, just as Vaatu is your opposite. Ozai, another Firebender, will do what Wan did eons ago. I do not need to tell you the consequences if he succeeds."

"Of course, you don't," he snapped, feeling panicked. "I'm not going to let that happen. I won't let Ozai become an Avatar."

"He will be your equal."

"No, he won't! But it doesn't even make sense! The Harmonic Convergence isn't for centuries! I'm the thirty-eighth Avatar, not the forty-first. And Wan and Raava were only able to bond forever because it was the Harmonic Convergence, Wan drank the sap from the Tree of Time, and he descended It's roots into the Void of Eternity and absorbed its primordial, cosmic energy until he Ascended, absorbing all of Raava and more into himself forever, destroying Raava by replacing her and becoming more. Vaatu will need to replicate that, and he can't! At least not until three Avatar lifetimes from now!"

Pathik sighed. "I know. I don't know how he will replicate it, least of all accomplish it, but that must be Vaatu's intent; it is the only thing that makes sense. He will avenge his defeat eons ago and imprison you as he was once imprisoned, and I suspect he will try to end The Light Avatar's avatar cycle."

Aang felt tired, and he wondered if he would ever feel rested again. "And I can't just let him do it because his impact on the world is already horrifying."

"Yes. You must stop him and imprison him again in the Tree of Time before Ozai becomes The Dark Avatar. If he does, it will be cataclysmic. It will be like your actions to Ba Sing Se but so much worse, for you stopped, but Ozai never would."

He remained quiet for several moments, thinking through the possibilities before he squeezed his eyes shut. "How do I beat him? I can't sense him because I've tried."

Pathik smiled sadly. "I sensed him when he entered the Mortal Realm, but it was for but a moment before his presence vanished; I cannot sense him, and I have exerted severely in my efforts to do so. I doubt you will ever sense him unless he is in your vicinity."

"How can he do that?" he asked in disbelief. "I'm The Avatar, and I should be able to- "

"Vaatu is different from any immortal or mortal, Aang. This is different, and you must prepare yourself."

Aang threw his hands in the air, eyebrows pulling together in incomprehension. "But how did he enter the Mortal Realm without the Solstice? How is he staying in the Mortal Realm? Even if I found him, he'd just vanish into the Spirit World, and I can't bend there! I don't know how to teleport like Avatar Kirku and his predecessors did."

Pathik smiled. "By mastering your chakras, you will be able to teleport between the Realms."

He slumped forward in grief, ignoring the screeching voices—Mad Balance-Keeper! "Then I won't ever teleport, and I won't ever stop Vaatu, who will use such an obvious advantage as much as he can."

"Azula will help."

"I don't know if she can do it," he replied flatly. "Mastering chakras is difficult. Really, it's impossible. I fear she'll get stuck and lost in her memories."

"She will confront her memories, which hold the truth, and you must do the same."

Aang closed his eyes. "Why?"

"The Truth is infinite, eternal, and internal while the lie is finite, fleeting, and external. We all experience a cycle of expression, experimentation, integration, and transcendence as we encounter Life. We realize that Chaos, Destruction, and Death are essential for Order, Creation, and Life; they are the same. We realize there is a greater intelligence surrounding us beyond our conception, on the edge of our awareness, and we try to connect to and with it; we realize the essential nature of Balance."

"You're starting to sound like Kuei," Aang mumbled, trying to forget what Kuei's philosophy resulted in.

Pathik only continued smiling. "Only by mastering all your chakras will your body cross from one Realm to the other whenever you wish. You need access to your full inheritance, your full power, to defeat Vaatu, and mastering your chakras is the only solution."

"I'm not ready to do that."

"Will you ever be?"

"No," he admitted.

"That is why you must start now. I do not expect you to master them quickly; I expect there will be much distress before you master them."

Aang sighed. "And you're prepared to deal with that?"

"I am."

"But Toph and Samir aren't," he stressed. "It's a bad idea. I don't want to scare them."

Pathik's bushy eyebrows pinched. "You already accomplished terrifying Toph during your murder of Ba Sing Se."

Aang flinched but shook his head stubbornly. "But I don't want to scare Samir, who already has nightmares. And Vaatu is the one giving them to her."

As he hoped, Pathik took the bait, face urgent. "How often?"

"I told her to let me know the next time she has a nightmare, and she hasn't yet, so it's not too often, and she said it's not every day."

Pathik nodded and was quiet for several moments. "If you master your chakras, you will be able to better handle dealing with such nightmares."

"I won't be able to do it," he repeated, trying to make Pathik understand.

"Many thought you would never defeat Ozai the first time."

"That's different. That was physical, and this isn't."

"Many thought a boy before adolescence could never possible physically defeat a man in the prime of his life."

Aang crossed his arms. "If Azula can master her first one, I'll try it."

XxXxXxXxXxX

After hearing Aang's proposal, Azula nodded eagerly. "Let us begin now."

Aang blinked and faltered in his stance, and she almost laughed at the distressed look on his face. "What? Now?"

"Of course," she responded, almost insulted. "I am eager to begin."

Pathik's eyes gleamed. "Shall we, Aang?"

"And what is the difference she would feel?" Aang asked through gritted teeth. "What point is there to her mastering her chakras?"

"Her firebending will be augmented permanently—to what level, I'm not sure, but it is possible that it will be comparable to the boost she received under the Great Comet."

Having already heard the information, Azula was not surprised, but Aang was based on the widening of his eyes. "And what else?"

"If she re-masters lightning, which I suspect she will upon mastering her chakras- " The thought alone quickened Azula's breathing. "- she will no longer need to complete the complicated bending form before unleashing it; it would erupt directly out of her fingertips when she wished. And she will be able to travel alongside you into the Spirit World—but only as a spirit, so she will not bend in the Spirit World. Her body will remain in the Mortal Realm."

Aang glanced at her. "I don't think you realize what you're pledging yourself to do."

She rolled her eyes. "I think you do not realize that I have ruminated on this for over two months now—since we arrived here."

"You have to deal with your past and triumph over it; you have to accept it, which means coming to terms with your life and all the pain you suffered under your father."

Azula placed a brief hand on Aang's shoulder. "I am ready. Are you?"

"No."

"Then I shall support us both," she vowed, unsurprised by his admission. "We need to do this; you need to."

Aang stared down at her for several long moments. "I'm tired of doing what I need to do."

"Aren't we all?" Pathik cut in with a brief laugh. "That is what it means to live, Aang, and as The Avatar- "

"I'm done talking about The Avatar," Aang cut in harshly.

Pathik sighed. "We will come to that when mastering your chakras."

"Which starts now," Azula added, pushing Aang forward—and he let her. "Whenever you are ready, Pathik."

Aang reluctantly sat down across from her, face wary and gray eyes troubled; Pathik sat perpendicular to them, face alight with joyful relief.

Honestly, Azula was surprised it was so easy for Aang to agree to the pursuit, but she knew she had to master her first one; she had to provide momentum and belief for the both of them. Considering her prodigious nature, it was ensured.

"Be ready," Aang warned softly, gray eyes begging her to reconsider, but she was adamant.

"I am," she promised.

Pathik cleared his throat and studied her for several moments before inhaling deeply and closed his eyes, and Azula followed his guidance, closing her eyes as well.

"Chakras are a chain ascending the body, from the base of the spine to the crown of the head, nexuses of energy connected intimately with one another, creating what we understand as chi." Pathik's voice became raspier, more ancient, and Azula hung onto his every word. "This energy flows through the body in rivers, pooling in specific areas—the chakras—that reveal your potential, whether a bender or non-bender. I am a non-bender, but I have mastered my chakras, producing an exquisite chi flow that is the source of my longevity. When a chakra is mastered, keeping it open, the energy is free to flow through the body, strong and rejuvenating, not hindered by a debilitating block. However, benders can become more if they master their chakras, reaching their bending potential, which very few throughout the history of the world have accomplished. Already, you have the potential to live a long time, but you can add decades to your lifespan by mastering your chakras. But to master your chakras means looking inward and being honest about what you find and reaching honest conclusions in pursuit of Truth. Each chakra has a specific purpose and deals with a different emotion, but another emotion always blocks the chakra until you do the work to clear the emotional excess."

"Is it always the same emotion that blocks the chakra?" she asked.

"Excellent question," Pathik commended. "No, there is always a corresponding emotion for a specific chakra, and you must encounter your different emotions before mastery. Are you ready, Azula?"

"Yes."

"The first chakra you will master is the Earth Chakra, which deals with survival and is blocked by fear; it is located at the base of the spine. What fears do you live with? What haunts you during the night? What are the fears that prohibit you from moving forward?"

Images of Father surged through her mind, and Azula flinched, unable to prevent her sudden erratic breathing. For so many years in her childhood, especially after Mother left—and after Zuko's banishment, particularly—she had lived in terror, which forced her to perfect herself, being perfect under Father's judgment. Her body recoiled as bruises from her memory struck her, a harrowing sensation located in the same areas Father once smacked her. She tensed and felt her face twist as the pain exploded, and she wanted to escape from it, despising the memories. There was a reason why she never considered such memories! There was a reason why she blocked out the memories.

A terrible presence began to claw through her, provoked by her familiar fear, and she saw the girl of the Great War, who was the embodiment of her fear, pushed so hard to survive Father because her terror was all-consuming. The girl stared at her with mad eyes and a deranged smile, fingers slashing her face and seeping into her flesh, clawing into her, reaching into the shadows of her mind, and Azula panicked!

"No!" she hissed, panting, sweat breaking out on her forehead.

"Stop fighting, Azula," Pathik called out, voice reaching through her rising panic. "Embrace the memories; let them have their time, and then move past them by accepting them. The only power the memories have is the power you give. Master your fear and, thus, yourself."

The girl of the Great War screamed in agony, withering away, flames consuming her face, and Father loomed over her, golden eyes sizzling with an unholy spark; she felt certain that the Face Stealer could not look at him. "You are weak, Azula," Father derided. "You lack strength and spirit; you are a pitiful disgrace to bear royal blood, the blood of your forefathers—the blood of Sozin! My grandfather worked to shape the world in his image, and I honor his memory by doing the same because I have strength and spirit. But you are empty of anything great and renowned; you are seedless! Sozin is ashamed to have such a pathetic heir to his name, born of his blood—as ashamed as I am! Your disrespect and impudence are not tolerated, and you must learn the price of disobedience and failure. You will follow your insolent brother on the path of suffering, for you must learn the lessons I bestow on you before I have no use for you."

The flaming hand cupped her face, and Azula shrieked, trying to open her eyes, but all she could see was Father's severe face.

A warm, heavy hand rested on her shoulder, gripping kindly but insistently. "It's not real," Aang whispered, voice slithering through the terrible, intimate fear ravishing her. "Whatever you see is true but not real."

A whimper escaped her parted lips, and she felt her hands shake, the fear of her childish self a torment to her, drawn up from the deep recesses of her mind where she had buried it long ago. And she remembered how her mind broke, deteriorating her into something broken and incompetent, feeble and insane.

"Do not reject the fear but accept it," Pathik advised. "Then realize its illusory nature. Without fear, no one can survive, for fear is a tool for survival—but how quickly a tool can become a vice. Fear can be a vice crippling you, preventing you from finding Truth, for fear cares for nothing but survival, which relies on malignant qualities, a perception confined in the pursuit of survival. What did you do to survive, Azula?"

Azula remembered the blood she spilled, the lives she took, and felt ashamed. It did not matter that she was better at survival than her victims; those victims were stronger than their fear, which did not manifest them into ultimate survivors—as her fear did her.

"I did everything," she whispered in response.

"Which brought you here, for you recognize that survival is but a lacking foundation. You want to live, which is different fundamentally from surviving."

Azula's breathing became smoother, and Father did not seem so real. "I want to be of Air; I want freedom."

"Yes," Pathik commended. "You want your enslavement to your fear and other emotions hindering the flow of your chi, embodied in your blocked chakras, to end; you want liberation; you want freedom."

"Yes."

"Freedom is only possible by walking through the darkness and accepting that it is part of you. You hold the darkness, but the darkness doesn't hold you."

Azula stared at Father with clear eyes and saw him as the weak man he was—enslaved to his desire to prove his father wrong. "I do not want your expectations," she said, breathing strong and steady. "You demand expectations as Fire does, but I demand now expectations of myself. You are nothing but a memory, for I am no longer yours—never again. I am grateful for you, for you helped me survive, which led me to this moment, which led me to this understanding I now possess and wish evermore to refine until perfection." She approached Father and bowed to him in Fire's traditional bow of respect. "Without you I would be nothing, but now you prevent me from becoming anything, from being who I need to be for maturation and peace. You will always be part of me, but no longer will you possess me; I possess you. Goodbye, Father." She memorized him one last time, how he looked during her childhood and adolescence, not as he looked in Ba Sing Se. "Begone."

Cracks appeared through Father and brilliant light shone through the shadows of her mind, and Azula felt a small surge of energy in her chi, culminating in her inner flame expanding slightly.

"Congratulations, Azula," Pathik said. "You have mastered your Earth Chakra."

Upon opening her eyes, she realized she was crying, feeling the heavy tear tracks staining her flesh, exposing her. But fresh air entered her lungs for what felt like in a long time, and there was a liberation, a cleansing of her spirit, now unencumbered by the fear that had ravished her for so long.

Aang stared at her, gray eyes unreadable for several moments, and she remembered her claim of wanting to be of Air, before those eyes softened. "I'm glad you did it."

"So now you can begin mastering them to connect with your greater power- "

"I'm glad you did it for you," he interrupted. "I want you to have peace—I always have."

Azula felt warmth spread through her at his words, but she frowned as she registered the somber look on his face. "But you hate that I did it for you."

"It won't bring me peace."

"Can anything?" she challenged softly.

Aang glanced at Pathik before staring into the space between their bodies. "Nothing possible."

Pathik bowed his head briefly, face old and mournful. "I once thought the same- "

"No, you didn't," Aang cut in, voice darkening, on the brink of harsh—even cruel. "You're not of Air; you're not even from Air like Samir. What you once thought is nothing like what I think, nonetheless feel."

"My loss is not your loss, but there are similarities," Pathik said kindly. "I loved them, too- "

"I loved them more."

Pathik sighed. "I know. But don't think I don't miss them, Aang—because I do. I think of them often."

"I think about them all the time."

"I'm not comparing myself nor my situation to you and your situation."

Aang's fists clenched. "Then stop giving me advice! The only reason you should give me advice is if you know what it feels like and know what I'm thinking, but you don't know."

Pathik stared at Aang for several moments. "Will you attempt to master your Earth Chakra?"

Azula watched the struggle on Aang's tense face before he nodded and closed his eyes, but she noted that his posture was still tight and defensive. "Begin, Pathik."

"Survival and fear are an intimate combination, and they rely on each other for life, for survival without fear is impossible, and fear only survives if survival is achieved. But that connection so easily deteriorates into something crippling. What are your fears, Aang?"

Aang's face spasmed. "You know my fears."

"By not voicing them, you are giving these fears power over you."

"Losing control—again," he replied, face beginning to sweat. "Failing to revive Air and staying the Last Airbender; failing to stop Ozai; failing to stop Vaatu; Appa dying again; Azula dying; forgetting my race, and being alone."

The confirmation that Aang cared so deeply about her elicited pleasure, but Azula only felt subdued watching the terrible battle in his mind displayed on his spasming, wincing face.

"What do you see?" Pathik asked, voice unchanged.

"Desolation."

"Your fears are well-founded," Azula cut in, "but fear does not prevent any of that from occurring. Fear cannot prevent what you fear. Only a clear, controlled mind and ability can do it. But fear pilfers you of control and reasonable perception, restricting your abilities."

Aang's neck stretched in an effort for control, twisting from side to side. "If it happened once, it will happen again."

"And my mind can break again," she acknowledged, slightly breathless at such a thought. "Anything can happen, Aang, but so much does not—because there are those, like you and I, who are reasonable and determined. Any of your fears are possible, but are they probable?"

"I'm the last of Air, and that's not going to change any time soon."

She closed her eyes briefly and nodded. "Whomever you choose as Mother of Air will ensure that your loneliness ends. Air will return; it has already begun due to your physical maturation, which will soon produce Airbenders born of your prolific virility. And even if no Airbenders are born soon, there will be those who follow Air's teachings and will teach Air to their children. I will do it, and I think Samir will. Air is awakening. You are never going to be alone again."

Exhausted gray eyes opened, piercing into her, and Aang stared at her, face raw. "Thank you."

"Do you feel- "

"The connection is greater," Aang answered, nodding, still staring at her. "The chi flow is faster."

Pathik beamed. "Excellent. The next chakra is- "

Aang stood to his feet. "I'm done for today—maybe for a couple of days."

Azula nodded. "Rest would probably be prudent; it is an intensive process, and I do not want to reach the fifth or sixth chakra and feel too exhausted to do more."

"Then how about fruit pies to celebrate the beginning of your journeys?" Pathik suggested.

A small smile appeared on Aang's worn face. "That'd be nice, Pathik."

"Are fruit pies as good as Aang says they are?" she asked.

"Yes," both Pathik and Aang chorused, straight-faced, eyes serious.

Azula smiled slightly, and her voice was even. "I will have to judge for myself."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Samir's presence seemed to somehow relieve Aang of his perennial grief, despite her obvious airbending infertility, and Azula enjoyed watching them interact—and she further enjoyed watching them play. They were in the airball arena. Aang carried Samir in his arms and threw her over a pillar before zipping over on an airball and catching her, and Samir shrieked in delight, demanding it again and again—and again and again. Quickly, it became a physical exercise in which Aang threw and caught Samir as fast as he could, and then again and again, barely pausing in his exertion.

And though Samir's face was bright red, even from the distance, she was overjoyed.

They must have been playing for over an hour, and Azula found that, though she yearned to try shooting lightning again, she could not move from her position of watching them. She felt serene enough in the moment to shoot lightning, but there was no instinct to; she rather enjoyed watching them play, amazed that Aang was giving Samir the time of day despite his innate disgust and hatred for her 'imposter' airbending connection and energy.

It seemed that Samir was more charming and compelling than anyone she had ever encountered.

"What are you thinking?" Toph asked, sitting beside her on the steps.

Azula glanced at her before looking back at Aang and Samir, catching the grin on Aang's face as he caught Samir and threw her over another pillar before zooming to catch her. "Why?"

"I wonder if you're thinking what I'm thinking."

"Unlikely. I try to imagine him before he learned he was The Avatar," she divulged. "I try to imagine him as he was then, young and joyful—like Samir."

"Any luck?"

Azula shook her head. "I cannot imagine him."

"Me neither."

Her brows rose. "That is what you were thinking?"

"Of course not. I was thinking that Twinkletoes and Hitchhiker sound like Momo with all their laughing and squawking. I bet if there are people at the bottom of the mountains, they can hear."

"If they could, I bet they would join the game."

"Why don't you join them?" Toph challenged

Azula remained quiet for several moments. "We mastered our first chakra earlier. It was rigorous, and I feel weary."

"Twinkletoes clearly doesn't."

"I suspect he is exhausting himself to avoid thinking about the other chakras and how daunting it is to achieve mastery."

Toph nodded and picked at something between her dirty toes. "Do you think we should spar with him?"

"Not on these holy grounds," she replied immediately. "I doubt he wants to mar the Air Temples after he spent years restoring them."

"He's done a really good job," Toph said quietly. "I've never been to this one before, but the Western was bad, I remember. I'm glad your brother found us then because I kind of thought Twinkletoes would spiral if he didn't have the job of learning firebending in front of him."

"I suspect you are right."

Toph cracked her knuckles. "I still want to spar with him. I've learned a lot since the War."

Azula smirked, recalling her various spars against Aang on Ember Island. "I guarantee he has learned more. He defeated me in all our spars."

"You sparred with him?"

"Of course. He is a Master of all the bending forms."

Silence.

"That's different than how we played with her," Toph commented after several moments.

Azula watched as Aang and Samir changed to a new game, in which Samir ran from pillar to pillar, avoiding Aang, who remained on his airball, circling her, and zooming in different directions. "Perhaps we could not fulfill her body's yearning for Air," she mused. "I wonder if this is how Airbenders raised their young. Even if he does not realize it, he has begun to treat her as a father does, I imagine. He is fond of her, despite the many problems her existence causes him."

Toph snorted. "I think it's just a Twinkletoes thing. Maybe an Avatar thing."

"I do not think Samir felt truly comfortable until Aang awoke from his slumber, for the Air Spirit told her to find Aang, but we are not Aang."

"And thank fuck for that," Toph exclaimed. "Can you imagine me bald and cruel?"

One of Azula's brows rose. "Only the monks were bald; the nuns only shaved their foreheads to display their tattoo of mastery."

"How dare you say I would be a nun? I would never be a nun! I enjoy getting fucked too much!"

Azula shook her head in amusement. "You raised the issue."

Toph shivered. "But can you imagine me bald?"

"You cannot imagine yourself bald."

"Yes, I can, and I know if I was bald, I'd look uglier than a badgermole."

"You do not know what a badgermole looks like," Azula pointed out, amused. "And Aang is no longer bald."

Toph blinked. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. What does his hair feel like?"

"Ordinary."

"Really? There's not anything special about The Avatar's hair?"

Azula studied Aang's hair as he zipped around on his airball. "It is hair. I see no difference between his hair and any hair I have seen. It appears to be the same raven color as mine, I suppose."

"I'll take your word for it," Toph dismissed, flicking a speck of gravel out of her toes. "Oh, by the way—Pathik said the fruit pies are ready."

She glanced at her, seeing no sign of deception and waved her forward. "I will give you the honor of telling them."

Toph jumped to her feet. "Hey!" she shouted, quaking the ground around them.

Aang paused on his airball and stared up at them, face concerned; Samir's bright red face peered around one of the pillars. "What is it?"

"The fruit pies are ready!"

The wind surged, and Azula's clothes danced briefly as Aang blurred past her carrying Samir and disappeared into the temple.

Toph blew her bangs out of her eyes. "I should've given you the honor."

"There will be little of the fruit pies remaining for us," she commented dryly as she stood to her feet.

Toph shrugged. "I already had one. It's not as good as Twinkletoes said."

"I recommend not sharing that."

"Like he won't share the fruit pies? Gladly."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"There are six more chakras," Pathik explained, and Azula listened attentively. However, Aang seemed distant to it, seeming to look right through her. "Our chakra today is the Water Chakra, which deals with pleasure and is blocked by guilt; it is located in the sacrum. What guilt do you feel? What deeds of your past are a source of remorse?"

When her eyes closed, the nightmarish image of her lightning ravaging Aang's body under Ba Sing Se assaulted her mind's eye, causing another whimper to escape her lips. Aang had forgiven her, but how could she cleanse herself of guilt of that magnitude? She had almost killed the man who had shown her so much and given her everything she had been unaware she was searching for; she had almost killed the man of whom she felt most fond. And Zuko's cringing body, lying in the Agni Kai arena in the Caldera, assaulted her. She meant to hit the Water Tribes peasant-bitch, but Zuko—oh, gallant and daring Zuko!—jumped in front of it and nearly killed himself!

"Guilt is something so powerful," Pathik said, cutting through the memory of Aang's spasming, floating body. "It makes us remember like nothing else. We change course because of guilt; we adapt because of guilt; and we forgive because of guilt. But we close ourselves off because of guilt; we deceive because of guilt; and we despair because of guilt. Guilt is healthy, informing you of your errors, but when it blocks your chakra, it is debilitating, preventing you from understanding and enlightenment. How often guilt diminishes who we are. But all guilt is born of the past, events that have happened rather than events that will happen. The guilt is a connection to something regretful, something that should have gone differently if only we had done something differently. Guilt is the ultimate revisionist, but it is only by looking back and not revising that anything is learned. We keep our guilt alive, and we fear that if we put our guilt back in its place, where it should be, that would produce, in and of itself, guilt. If we do not feel guilt, we feel that we dishonor those we failed and we cheat them of their deserved due, but this is a powerful, crippling lie. The deepest source of guilt, always, lies in those we love most, but those we love most don't want us to feel guilty; they want us to be free. Can you become free? Can you use your guilt in its ordered manner to work better and not commit mistakes?"

Azula grit her teeth, feeling the moisture building in her eyes. "It is not that easy. I ended lives and spilled the blood of innocents; I almost killed the two men who mean more to me than any other. I failed to kill my father when I had the opportunity and damned Appa to his lightning, which provoked Ba Sing Se's murder. I have committed unspeakable acts, and I have failed outrageously. I was weak."

"But are you being weak right now by keeping your guilt alive?"

She exhaled roughly and scrunched her face in effort. "Well observed."

"Focus," Pathik soothed. "You will always have guilt and will always feel guilt, but be the possessor, not the possessed. When you turn away from the guilt, do not do it out of guilt but freedom, for the guilt matters, but it is not all that matters."

Azula slowly and surely calmed the raging inferno in her mind and opened her eyes to see Pathik smiling at her.

"Well done," he praised. "Guilt is powerful, but you have proved yourself more powerful than your powerful guilt."

She nodded, too tired for words, and looked to Aang and knew immediately that whatever her struggle she had with guilt was ecstasy compared to the agony on his sweat-coated face. His breathing was uneven, and his body so tense it looked like it could shatter if touched.

"You are not alone, Aang," Pathik called out. "Remember that- "

"I'm always alone," Aang hissed. "And I'm alone forever because of me, because of what I did."

"By focusing so intently on- "

"I heard you," he snapped, voice churning with chaotic discontent. "You think I'm weak by keeping it alive."

Pathik's face was solemn. "I think you punish yourself."

"Because I deserve it! The Boy—that stupid boy—deserves it!"

"You are that 'stupid boy,' Aang."

Aang flinched as if burned, face aflame with denial. "No, I'm not, not anymore."

Pathik sighed. "We will come to that at the Sound Chakra. What are you guilty of, Aang?"

"Everything! I left! I was a coward and weak, so weak. I could have stopped the Attack, even as a child—we all know it; everyone in the world knows it—but I didn't. I let my people—my home and family—die. I made them wait to their deaths! They were waiting for me—I know it! They waited until their eyes saw the horror and moral terror; they waited until they saw our people slaughtered; they waited until they heard Sozin's soldiers laughing and yelling a tally of how many children each murdered; they waited until they saw the dragons swallow the children and rip limbs apart; they waited until they saw heads kicked around for sport; they waited until they saw Airbenders fall from the sky in their attempts to escape, burned to such a degree they could do nothing but fall down the mountains to their deaths; they waited until they saw hearts ripped from unmoving, scorched chests; they waited until the mountains ran red with their blood; they waited until the soldiers tortured them, demanding my location; they waited until their eyes were gouged out and jammed into their ears; they waited until their intestines were ripped out and their anuses violated by their intestines; they waited until their wombs were cut open and shredded; they waited until they were castrated and fed their own testicles; they waited until they were killed—because they had hope! But I killed their hope! I let them all die; I let Gyatso die; I let all that's left of us be Samir, who's disgusting and worthless because she's not a real Airbender! It should have been me! Me!"

Suddenly, glowing white orbs snapped open, and Azula, who was shaken by such descriptions, inhaled sharply as The Avatar glared at her and Pathik. The temple shuddered as cracks appeared everywwhere in the stone floor, which appeared to begin to disintegrate, and the air swirled around them, warming with an unbearable heat, and the power slammed into her. She gasped, feeling like her flesh was being peeled viciously, and she tried to raise her arms and get The Avatar's attention—get Aang's attention!—but the pressure was immense and overwhelming.

But then the glow vanished, followed by a swift repair of all the destruction, revealing distraught gray eyes before Aang whirled around and jumped out the window.

Silence.

"That went better than I expected," Pathik commented, seemingly unaffected as he took a sip from his bowl of onion and banana juice; Azula had refused the disgusting concoction.

She turned to him, feeling breathless at experiencing The Avatar's power once again; her heart raced. "This does not concern you?"

"I am very concerned," he corrected. "But I know that Aang is more concerned than either of us could be; he knows the consequences of his inability to master his chakras. I suspect he will only be able to master three—possibly four—during his time here."

"But he must master all of them."

"I don't know how he will master these impossible chakras except for time, but we do not have time, not with Vaatu."

Her eyes widened. "Do not say his name."

"I can, and I will," Pathik said firmly. "I am master of the darkness he can exploit."

Azula nodded. "You said time. How much time do you anticipate him needing?"

"It took me about thirty years to master my chakras and come to terms with the horror of Air's loss."

She wavered. "It took you that long?"

"Yes, but Aang does not have that kind of time, not with Vaatu's imminence. I do not think he has even five years. But his loss is increasingly more severe than mine, and I fear it's a loss that will only worsen the more time that passes, the longer he lives without feeling Air's presence intimately."

"What solution is there?" she wondered, feeling a sense of inevitability.

"To master his chakras; that is the only solution. He must master himself."

"What is the risk if he does not master his chakras?"

Pathik looked at her, face somber. "Another Ba Sing Se. Vaatu could manipulate him. It is theoretically possible that Vaatu could control him, wield him as a weapon if he promises the return of the Air that was—how he would accomplish this, I don't know, but Vaatu is beyond ancient and knows primordial secrets as he created this Realm. If given the choice, Aang will choose the world that was over the world that is."

Azula closed her eyes. "He would," she agreed.

"Without his mastered chakras, I'm convinced that the world is doomed to Vaatu. Or even if he manages to defeat Vaatu without his mastered chakras, he will commit sins unforgivable- "

"Like Ba Sing Se," she murmured.

"- in his pursuit at imprisoning Vaatu. He must master his chakras, and he will only do so if he has support."

"I will support him," Azula vowed. "I will master my chakras."

"I believe you will," Pathik said, smiling kindly. "In the next days, we will look at the Fire Chakra- "

"I have enough energy to master another now," she said quickly, not wanting to think about the consequences of Aang failing to master his chakras. Once she mastered her chakras, she could consider it and theorize how to help Aang master them. But she could only do that if she mastered hers first.

Pathik's brows rose in genuine pleasure. "Really? No wonder you nominated yourself as Mother of Air. You are remarkable."

Azula enjoyed the praise but remembered Aang's furious reviling of her nomination, which only seemed to become more reviling as time progressed. "I do not think Aang will resent us continuing without him. He would thank us, likely."

Pathik chuckled as serenity seemed to envelop him in a blanket; Azula envied him. "Then this will be the last one for today and likely tomorrow. The Fire Chakra deals with willpower but is blocked by shame; it is located in the stomach. What are you ashamed of? When reminded, what events curdle your blood?"

The face of the first man she killed floated in her mind, and it happened when she was at the age of six. She never knew the man, nor had known why he had enraged Father so profoundly, but she knew he was Father's enemy, a traitor to the Dragon's Throne, on which sat esteemed Grandfather Azulon. Father ordered she end the threat as an heir of Sozin must, but Azula recalled merely staring at the man, feeling confused. Then Father sighed and kneeled next to her; his fingers pressed into her hand and bent her fingers into a tight fist.

"Now eject a precise flame," he murmured, and she followed his directions perfectly—as she must always. "Kill him."

Azula blinked at Father, still confused. "Why?"

Father frowned. "You need no more reason than my will. Execute my will, Azula."

"How?"

Father scoffed, disappointed. "Manifest your creativity before your brother feels my creativity. You have your fire dagger. Where can you kill the traitor? I am fond of the throat, myself."

She looked down at her fire dagger before looking at the kneeling man, whose eyes bulged in terror, and guttural sounds escaped his mouth, but he could not speak intelligently—which now she understood was due to Father relieving him of his tongue. Azula stared at him for several moments before she stepped forward—more uncertain than could be proper—and jammed her fire dagger into the man's throat, sliding it through skin and muscle.

The man's guttural grunts became gruesome gagging, and Azula watched as red filled her vision as the man's slit throat gushed out blood like a small river in spite of the cauterized slit. The man's eyes were filled with shock and fear, the realization that his own death was simply inevitable. After several moments, the man's head slammed back on the ground, and blood bubbled from his lips, gurgling as he tried to speak or draw one last breath. And his life faded, the change so sudden between life and death, almost imperceptible, as the man's body became eternally still.

And Azula couldn't look away, mesmerized in the worst of ways.

"See, Azula?" Father murmured, fingers turning her chin to him; his face was coaxing and proud. "We are Fire, and we worship Power. What is more powerful than taking another's life, an ultimate domination? This is power. You wielded your rightful power and proved yourself my daughter and an heir of Sozin. Now you must continue to prove yourself—as I have to my father."

She glanced at the blood seeping across the floor, stretching to her feet. "Yes, Father."

Father's lips curled slightly before glancing at the dead man. "Do not speak of this to your mother. We want to spare her from stress."

"What about Zuko?" she asked quietly.

"Your brother lacks consistency."

"He's clumsy," Azula recited.

"Yes. He will not keep secrets as they must be kept. But you can keep a secret, my daughter, yes?"

Azula nodded obediently. "Yes, Father."

Father's smile gleamed. "This will be our secret, Azula. And as a reward for your dedication today, there will be many more secrets we will experience—together."

The shameful feelings swept through her mind as other faces soon appeared in her vision, the ones whom she had all killed. And echoing behind them was her treatment of others—of Ty Lee, Mai, Zuko, and Mother upon her return. Then, as she was beginning to become overwhelmed, Aang's body floated in front of them, lightning arcing through his form, and she understood: she had released her guilt, but not her shame. And in front of Aang, was an image of her younger self, hands alight with sapphire flames, a cold gleam in her golden eyes. Ultimately, there was nothing she was more ashamed of than herself, of who she had used to be. She was called 'Lightning Psycho' by Toph for a reason; her sins were unforgivable and would forever taint her, and if she had children, the sins of the mother would taint them, too.

She had been terribly, unbearably weak, and not as intelligent as she thought she was.

The memory of overhearing Father and Grandfather Azulon's conversation on that fateful day struck her, leaving her feeling timid and overwhelmed—just as she had then listened to it, for she had thought she understood the context of the conversation, but it was so clear that there was so much weight, context, and intrigue that eluded her.

"Father, you must have realized as I have that, with Lu Ten gone, Iroh's bloodline has ended," Father urged to Grandfather Azulon with a voice different than normal, more confident and prouder, more assured, and Azula stared at the scene, mesmerized; beside her, Zuko stood, but he was less still, more fidgety, but he listened attentively, too. "After his son's death, my brother abandoned the siege at Ba Sing Se, and who knows when he will return home? But I am here, Father, and my children are alive."

Grandfather Azulon's golden eyes shone through the wall of flames, piercing and alert. "Say what it is you want."

Father stood to his feet, confident and assured, and he approached the Dragon's Throne by several steps; Azula was amazed and scandalized by his disrespect. "Father, revoke Iroh's birthright." He kneeled again, but it was proud rather than modest. "I am your humble servant here to serve you and our nation. Use me."

The wall of flames was always controlled, always at the same height and same intensity, but suddenly, the wall of flames became alive, and Azula stared, eyes wide, as the wall intensified and expanded, highlighting Grandfather Azulon's suddenly standing body in a glaring hue. "You dare suggest I betray Iroh?" he demanded, voice tight and enraged. "My firstborn? Directly after the demise of his only beloved son? I think Iroh has suffered enough. But you? Your punishment has scarcely begun!"

The flames exploded up and scorched the surface of the throne room's ceiling, and Azula stared, too frozen in place by the spectacle of power she thought impossible. Father always said that Grandfather Azulon lost his power and wasn't the strong Fire Lord he used to be and that his time on the Dragon's Throne was ending, for someone strong would replace him, and Azula had believed him, but Grandfather Azulon was proving her wrong, for his power was huge. But when Zuko stumbled back and dashed out of the throne room, she reacted and stared after him. She shook her head in disappointment because he lacked consistency as Father said always. She looked back at Father and Grandfather Azulon with a smile. Then she could brag to Zuko that she saw the legendary firebending of esteemed, prodigious Grandfather Azulon! She and Zuko always talked about how strong he had to be to win the many victories he did in the War. Azula always thought his power was of the past, but his power seemed just as powerful as it ever was—maybe more powerful!

Father bowed his head, and Azula saw the worry on his face. "Father, you must be reasonable. Iroh has surrendered his honor. You read the reports. He challenged his own soldiers to Agni Kais and killed all who accepted his challenges. He has lost himself to grief, and now he is nowhere to be found; he has abandoned Fire, but I will never abandon Fire. I am here, and I am ready; I am willing; I am capable. There is nothing that prevents- "

"I know, Ozai," Grandfather Azulon interrupted, voice like a fire whip. "I know. I know the actions you took to ensure this meeting; I know the actions you took that enabled you to speak to me with such brazen arrogance, especially your assurance about Lu Ten's death; I know what you did."

Azula didn't understand what Grandfather Azulon spoke about, but Father did because of the way he stiffened, and his voice changed, becoming less proud; it now sounded like it always did when speaking to Grandfather Azulon. "Father, if you allow me to explain- "

"Explain?" Grandfather Azulon roared, flames surging out of his mouth, splitting through the wall of flames in a wave, toward Father, who flinched and raised his hands, coated with flames, but Grandfather Azulon's flames stopped just short of touching him. Azula was in terrified awe; she thought that type of control was impossible, but clearly, she had to practice more and more until she was perfect like Grandfather Azulon, her namesake. Father was wrong! Grandfather Azulon was just as powerful as he ever was! "What is there to explain beyond your cruelty and apathy, your disregard and insularity, your greed and selfishness, and your ambition and cunning?"

What did Father do to make Grandfather Azulon so angry? What was going on? What happened?

"Father- "

"You mock Iroh's loss by demanding something grotesque—and demand it after your betrayal of him! No, Iroh lost his firstborn, his only son born by his beloved Natsumi. But now you will know the pain of losing a first-born son—by sacrificing your own," Grandfather Azulon decreed, and the words imprinted in Azula's mind with perfect recall, and she gasped as the heat blanketing the room was impossible and overwhelming; she never knew such firebending was possible! Father's firebending didn't feel like that! "Iroh will be redeemed of his loss and gain more because of it. Your punishment, my son whom Ilah died bringing into this world, will continue evermore as long as your body supplies you with life. Your home will not be your home; your family will not be your family; your wife will not be your wife- "

A flash of rage and fear crossed Father's face. "No! Father, I ask this of you out of Fire's best interest- "

"It is my duty to think of Fire's best interest, and I have done so for decades!" Grandfather Azulon snapped, voice rising in intensity, and Azula couldn't look away. "It has never been your concern—and it never shall be! You have plagued this family with dishonor, and Agni glowers down at us now. I must fix your gross mistakes; I should have fixed the gross mistake of your existence long ago, but I fix that mistake now. You have the rest of this day and night to conduct yourself familiarly. But by morning you shall be elsewhere, and my eyes shall never see you, and my ears shall never hear you. I am sure you will find solace in the mother-killers whom you befriended. You are alike, after all."

Father jumped to his feet, and his hands held huge flames—much bigger than any flames he ever showed her. "I will reunite you with Mother!"

Azula's eyes bulged from their sockets, realizing that Father was challenging Grandfather Azulon. It was impossible!

"Is this how you want your life to end, Ozai?" Grandfather Azulon asked, unimpressed, and Azula wanted to speak, wanted to rush in and save Father's life, apologize for him to Grandfather Azulon, just as Mom had shown her, but she was frozen, only able to watch. "I have considered the nature of your death many times, but never this. You challenge me?"

"Agni Kai, Father!"

Grandfather Azulon waved a hand. "I do not accept."

"Then you are honor-less, which I must rectify."

"You think you can bring me to my death?" Grandfather Azulon asked, seemingly in disbelief; Azula felt the same disbelief because it was insane! What was Father doing? Clearly, Grandfather was more powerful than Father ever said he was! What was going on? Why was this happening? "Not even the Scourge of Fire could accomplish it. I will either die naturally or The Avatar will return and avenge his race. That is the only way I could be murdered."

"No, you are not the powerful, ruthless Fire Lord for whom I named my daughter. You live in the final days of your reign- "

Grandfather Azulon flicked his hand, and lightning sprang from his fingertips, splitting through the wall of flames like a vengeful arrow, and smashed into the floor in front of Father, who was heaved back from the force of the eruption, falling in a heap.

Azula stared, eyes wide as Grandfather Azulon walked through the wall of flames, face brilliant and intense. "You lack restraint, Ozai; you always have. Though you have achieved your accomplishments, and your firebending prowess has grown exquisitely since you met Ursa, making you greatly powerful, you are young and the restraint I tried to teach you is nowhere to be found in you. You disappointed me for a long time, but when you married Ursa, I found in you such pride and joy; you were a man I was proud to call my son, and I knew Ilah would be proud of you. I forgave you for the price of your birth, for you made such strides in your temperament and understanding, your abilities and your sense. You produced most promising children whom I enjoy, and your wife is brilliant, and she did everything I hoped she would when I introduced you to her. You made me proud, Ozai. But my pride in you made me careless, and I saw only what I wanted to see. Now I realize the novelty of that experience, which was novel for a long time, has worn off for you, and this is always who you have been—and always who you will be. You have grossly overstepped your place, and there are permanent consequences for your betrayal. Though your betrayal is monstrous, I commend you on planning this meeting and the events leading to it, but you overplayed your hand; your excessive confidence and optimism in your capabilities are your downfall, which begins now."

Father stared up at Grandfather Azulon before snarling, rolling to his feet; at the same time, his fingers wound, and sparks crackled. The lightning exploded out of his fingertips, directed at Grandfather Azulon, who blasted flames out of his feet, carrying him above the lightning, which destroyed the steps leading to the Dragon's Throne.

Smoke clouded the room, but Azula could see clearly, the lightning, which was brighter and more intense than Father's, sparkling at Grandfather Azulon's fingertips. Before she could cry out to warn Father, Grandfather Azulon unleashed the torrent of lightning down at Father, who dove out of the way and slammed into one of the pillars in the throne room, jarring him.

But Grandfather Azulon continued his attack, so fast and powerful, so ruthless and perfect, and Azula never knew such firebending was possible. She heard the legends of Great-grandfather Sozin and Grandfather Azulon, and she imagined their greatness, but her imagination failed her because Grandfather Azulon was amazing. Father tried to fight back, creating huge flames that Azula didn't know he could create, but Grandfather Azulon was more powerful; he darted to one side, still hovering with the jettisons of powerful flame, and gripped Father's shoulder and squeezed, and his hand was alight with flame. Father hissed and squeezed his eyes shut before his other shoulder acted, arm swinging, flames extended on the end with promise.

He was going to kill Grandfather Azulon!

Azula stared, unable to look away, preparing herself for death, but Grandfather Azulon caught Father's arm and twisted. Father yelped in pain as he was forced down, arm bending unnaturally.

"Ursa taught you lightning," Grandfather Azulon observed and let go of Father's arm, still hovering. Azula's eyes widened in the realization that Mom knew lightning! Mom never told her she knew lightning like Father did! "She did not mention that to me."

Father collapsed to his knees and glared up at Grandfather Azulon, holding his shoulder. "I asked her not to."

"So you could hold an 'advantage' over me."

"You taught me that."

Grandfather Azulon's golden eyes were brilliant with intensity. "I taught you many things, but I did not teach you more things, such as honoring your nephew. That is my fault, which I will regret until the end of my days when Agni takes me to the Gardens. But you shall live with regret until the end of your days, whenever those days are—but you shall live with regret away from here."

Father shook his head. "Father, we both know that- "

"I tire of your justifications," Grandfather Azulon dismissed and hovered back to the Dragon's Throne, parting through the wall of flames before he sat back down. "You have never served your nation as my father did, as I did, and as your brother did before his loss. But you shall serve your nation now by sacrificing your firstborn to Iroh, cleansing us of this grotesque blight in Agni's eyes that happened because of your weakness. And you shall serve your nation further by leaving it forever, bereft of all pedigree and deeds. Do you understand your punishment, which shall never be rescinded, not even if Iroh and his heirs feel the impulse of mercy?"

Father's fists clenched, and his golden eyes burned; they looked angrier than Azula had ever seen, and she had seen Father very angry before. "Yes, Father."

"It was my mercy that brought about this day and the events leading to it. But I cannot deliver you to your rightful punishment. But there will be a permanence of your punishment. Your line must end and never continue—and if it does, the children you sire elsewhere will be frauds." Azula didn't understand. Was Grandfather Azulon telling Father that if Mom became pregnant, her new sibling would be a bastard? "Mercy still plagues me, for this is my mercy to you—because you are Ilah's son. Be grateful for the mother you murdered, my son; it is she who grants you life right now—and always has. I have tried with you, but I failed. I failed as your father, but I shall not fail as your Fire Lord. I know of your treachery, and I despise it. You know your punishment. You are still my son for the rest of this day and night, but when Agni rises again tomorrow, you will be my enemy, and you shall bear no protection. Now choose wisely how you spend your final hours here. Put your affairs in order, spend one last night with your wife and her body, and say goodbye to your children—forever. Fulfill your penance to Iroh."

Father bowed his head. "Yes, Father."

Grandfather Azulon sneered and flicked his hand. "Begone, Ozai, son of a disgusted father and dead mother; begone before my wrath is less merciful."

Father's face was disheveled and struck before he bowed and swiftly departed, and Azula waited several moments, watching Grandfather Azulon, whose head was bowed; only the brilliant, beautiful Fire Crown was visible over the wall of flames.

She didn't know how long she stood there, barely breathing, eyes rooted on Grandfather Azulon before she swallowed and carefully eased back, knowing she had to warn Zuko-

"I know you are there, Princess Azula," Grandfather Azulon called out, voice a rasp.

Azula gasped and felt frozen in place, and terror sizzled through her mind; she never feared Grandfather Azulon, but after hearing what he planned for Zuko, there was fear. And he said Father's line must end, but she was born of Father's line. Was Grandfather Azulon going to order Father to kill her, too? Or was Grandfather Azulon going to kill her himself?

"Come out, Granddaughter."

But the fear was familiar, for she knew she had to be perfect or else; she jutted her chin out and walked through the curtains, eyes drawn to the ruined steps of the Dragon's Throne before she fell to her knees and bowed in front of Grandfather Azulon. "How may I serve you, Grandfather Azulon?"

Silence.

Azula felt Grandfather Azulon's eyes on her, and she used all her energy not to fidget—she couldn't be like Zuko! Father said she had to be better!

"You are too young to have witnessed this. I wish you had obeyed me and been elsewhere."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, heart racing. "I should have obeyed."

Grandfather Azulon was quiet for several moments. "Do you support your father, Princess Azula?"

She hesitated. "I support his honor."

"Do you support your Fire Lord?"

"When he is honorable."

Grandfather Azulon laughed, the sound shocking her, but it was a laugh worn and weary; she never imagined such a sound coming from Grandfather Azulon. "You are so much like your mother."

"Thank you, Grandfather Azulon," she replied dutifully.

"Do you understand that this must happen, Princess Azula?" Grandfather Azulon asked, peering down at her from the mighty Dragon's Throne. "Do you understand why it must happen?"

She swallowed. "It is the Fire Lord's will."

"But beyond my will, do you understand why it must happen?"

"Father disrespected you and Uncle Iroh," Azula replied slowly and carefully, not wanting to anger him—or he may order Father to kill her like Zuko! "He must be punished."

When she risked looking up at him, Grandfather Azulon leaned back, satisfied. "Yes. I do not expect you to understand the nuances involved in this, Princess Azula, for this goes back long before Lu Ten's death and your father's audacity. This was twenty-five years in the making. But it relieves me that you understand enough to accept what must be done."

Azula nodded stiffly, taking care not to show her face. "Yes, Grandfather Azulon."

"Let us see if your mother's reaction is as reasonable as yours; I suspect it will not be. Now leave me, Granddaughter; I need time to reflect—and grieve."

She bowed once again and walked out perfectly; once she exited the throne room, she dashed toward Zuko's room because she had to warn him!

Azula thought she understood the conversation, but there was so much subtlety that failed to register; she legitimately thought Grandfather Azulon ordered Zuko's death. If she was wiser and better, she would have realized the truth of the conversation—that Father ordered Lu Ten's assassination, which enraged Grandfather enough to banish Father and deprive him of his heirs, giving them to Uncle to atone for Father's honor-less sin in Agni's eyes—and prevented Father manipulating Mother into assassinating Grandfather, which would lead to Mother staying and Grandfather surviving. And Father would never ascend the Dragon's Throne, and Uncle would remain the Crown Prince.

Yes, she went to Zuko and told him that he was going to die by playing one of her games, but how else could she have done so? That, in and of itself, was her and Zuko's game—they always antagonized one another, him with grumpy anger and her with teasing coyness. If she did not play the game, Zuko would never believe her because he would feel suspicious. But she failed, regardless, for Zuko did not believe her.

She thought if she provoked his fear of living in the Earth Kingdom, being adopted by a family in the Earth Kingdom, he would realize her sincerity, but she failed. It was a real fear Zuko had during that time because one of the noblemen's vicious accusations, likely provoked by Zuko's well-known struggles in bending, that Princess Ursa actually lived in the Colonies before she journeyed to the Caldera and bore one of the spawns of Earth a child—Zuko. The rumor spread, and Zuko heard, who told Mother, who told Father.

Of course, Mother was enraged by the accusation, and Father killed the man for such a bold, slanderous accusation—and Grandfather Azulon applauded the act and absorbed all his properties into his own, smearing the man's lineage forever, or several generations at least. After all, it was an absurd claim to make—the opposite of reality! Zuko and Father looked almost identical and always had; they were clearly Father and Son just as she and Mother were Mother and Daughter, almost identical in appearance.

Azula thought Zuko would understand the depth of the situation if she mentioned it, but he was rattled and did not believe her.

Clearly, she should have gone to Mother first rather than Zuko; that was an oversight on her part, an oversight that potentially changed everything. But likely not upon further reflection. For Mother would still go to Father and beseech him for the truth, and Father would take advantage and brilliantly manipulate her into assassinating Grandfather Azulon.

Despite herself, she always felt awed that Mother was capable of such a renowned feat, and Azula doubted she possessed such strength. Not even the Scourge of Fire could assassinate Grandfather Azulon, but Mother achieved the impossible feat.

But she should have thought of something to prevent it! And the only solution was that she was too shamefully dull to comprehend the complexity and nuance of the conversation between Father and Grandfather Azulon, which proved the downfall of their family. It was her fault! It was her shame! Because if she was intelligent enough—perfect enough—to comprehend it, she could have told Mother what was happening, letting her realize the truth, but she still did not know the truth.

Though she still had no confirmation for what Father did to enrage Grandfather Azulon, she knew, deep down, that Father had ordered Lu Ten's assassination—it was the only idea that made sense with Grandfather Azulon's punishment. It resonated inside her as the truth, which tainted the honor of their family—and her own because she failed to comprehend it and, thus, prevent what happened after.

She should not have been so shameful when telling Mother what happened:

"To what do you allude, Azula?" Mom demanded in an urgent hiss, pulling her along the halls away from Zuko's room, grip tight on her arm. "What did your father say he would do to Zuko?"

Azula stared up at Mom and tried to pull her arm away. "Because you only care about Zuko!" she cried out, wiggling fiercely, but Mom's grip was strong. "You hate me!"

Mom sighed and shook her head, still dragging her; they stuck to the corners of the halls. "Of course not, Azula. You are my daughter. We have troubles, yes, but- "

"You never want to spend time with me! It's always about Zuko!"

"Your brother is having troubles in his schooling and bending. You do so well, which fills me with more pride than you know, but your brother needs my help right now."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not my fault he's so slow."

"It is not," Mom agreed, surprising her. "But he needs support, yes? Just as you have always received support?"

"No! Because you don't support me!"

Mom looked down at her briefly before continuing her navigation. "When have I not supported you?"

"You told Dad I'm dangerous!"

"I told him that he is making you dangerous," she corrected, and Azula didn't understand.

"That's the same thing!"

Mom paused for a moment, grip on Azula's arm still tight, but her other hand massaged Azula's hair; it felt good, despite her anger. "Your father is a complicated man, Azula. Maybe I misspoke. I do not think you are dangerous; I think you can be dangerous if you choose to be, and you do not realize it—and your father does not realize it."

Azula scrunched her face. "But then I'm dangerous."

"We can all be dangerous, my beautiful daughter, but we control ourselves." Mom's hand released her hair and floated between them; in her palm hovered a beautiful flame, and Azula felt drawn to it. Mom was always such a powerful Firebender. She always liked watching Mom's firebending more than Dad's. Mom's firebending was beautiful while Dad's was harsh and brutal. She knew that her firebending was like Mom's a lot more than Dad's, but why did Mom care more about Zuko's firebending more when it wasn't like her own? Mom should care about hers because it was like hers, not Zuko's! "We are born of Fire, which comes with a responsibility that is different than the other races. Our fire can destroy so easily and so quickly, producing danger. That is why we have honor—to prevent that; that is why we are honorable, for when we are not honorable, we are dangerous."

Azula sniffed and hated the tears that welled in her eyes. "I'm not honorable?"

Mom shook her head. "You are honorable, but you have reached an age where you must decide going forward if you shall stay honorable. You have a choice, Azula; we all have a choice. Your father is an honorable man, but he has always struggled—as have I. I do not want you to struggle like your father and I have. That is what I tried to tell your father, and that is what I tell you now."

"But you never spend time with me!"

"Do I force you to spend time with me?"

She blinked, confused. "No."

"Do you force me to spend time with you?"

"No, but I should—because you never do!"

Mom sighed. "We have choices, Azula. I want to spend time with you, but every time I ask, you deny or run off with your father. What am I supposed to do?"

"Do what Dad does!"

Mom's golden eyes sharpened. "What does your father do?"

"He says I have to."

"And you want me to have the same approach?"

"Yes!"

Mom's eyebrows rose. "Do you appreciate when he does that?"

Azula looked down. "No," she mumbled.

Silence.

"We will continue this at another time. Come with me."

"No!" Azula huffed angrily and tried to jam her feet into the ground to make herself stuck, but Mom only continued dragging her through the halls. Quickly, they arrived at the royal garden, and Mom pulled her to the pond before kneeling in front of her, hands brushing her hair and framing her face.

"What did your father say, Azula?"

"It was with Grandfather- "

Mom's face twisted in frustration. "Did you eavesdrop on your father and grandfather?"

"You didn't stop us!" she cried out.

"Us?" Mom asked, brows pinching.

Azula looked down. "Me and Zuko. But you didn't stop us! You didn't come in and get us!"

"One of the servants pulled me away immediately after we left, and I assumed you would head to your rooms or the garden," Mom murmured, face tightening. "If I knew you were going to eavesdrop, I would have- "

"Dad and Grandfather Azulon fought."

Mom paused, face going blank. "What?"

Azula nodded. "They fought, and fire was everywhere; they were fighting each other. And there was lightning! I didn't know Grandfather Azulon was so powerful. He was amazing! And Dad didn't win." She looked around briefly, worried that Father would suddenly appear. "He lost, Mom. Dad lost."

"Why did they fight?" Mom demanded, voice more urgent than she ever heard. "What happened? What did your grandfather say to enrage your father?"

She looked down. "He said Dad had to kill Zuko."

Mom's hands dropped suddenly and so quickly that Azula wondered if she burned her on accident, but Mom's face didn't show pain; it was pale and fearful. "No, that is impossible. He would never- "

"Dad promised Grandfather," she interrupted. "It was about sacrificing for Uncle. 'Now you will know the pain of losing a first-born son—by sacrificing your own.' That's what Grandfather said, and Dad said he'd do it. 'Yes, Father.' That's what he said."

"That is why they fought?" Mom whispered, face horrified in realization.

Azula nodded. "Dad didn't like his punishment."

"Punishment?" Mom demanded in disbelief.

"Grandfather said it's merciful."

Mom's hands framed her face again, and her golden eyes peered into Azula's own, intent and strong. "Are you lying?"

"I'm not lying!" she protested. "Dad's going to kill Zuko- "

Mom stood to her feet. "Go to your room and wait for me. I need to get to the bottom of this."

"You're going to save Zuko?"

"Yes."

"Would you save me?" she whispered.

"Of course, I would."

Azula looked down. "But you love Zuko more."

"I love my children—my son and my daughter—with the force of my being."

"But you love Zuko more than me."

"There is no time to discuss absurdities!" Mom snapped, voice rising and golden eyes wide and frantic. "I promise after I handle this, we can speak about it for weeks, for as long as you want. But not now. I must speak with your father."

"What about me?" Azula asked quietly.

Mom's breathing was quick and overwhelmed, but she kneeled briefly and brushed her hair again; the smile on her face was tight and pained. "You need to go to your room, okay? And you need to stay there until I retrieve you- "

"But I can help! I can save Zuko! It's just like all the games we play where one of our lives are in danger, and we save each other!"

"It is kind of you to offer, Azula, but you cannot help," Mom said firmly.

"Yes, I can!"

"You cannot, and that is final."

"But I'm a prodigy!" she protested. "Dad always says- "

"This is different," Mom hissed, golden eyes intense. "You are a child, and you are not as good as you think you are; there is always someone better, and right now, there are countless Firebenders better than you. That will change as you mature, but that is not the reality now. I need you to go to your room and stay there. This does not concern you."

She shook her head. "But Grandfather said- "

"I know what he said, and I need to speak with your father to confirm it."

Azula felt heartbreak—as always. "You don't trust me."

"I do, but I must verify; you will understand when you are older."

"But I can help- "

"This does not concern you," Mom snapped, looking past her. "I must speak with your father- "

"But I'm a princess by blood!" she cried out, face twisting angrily. "It doesn't concern you because you're just a princess by marriage; you're worthless! You're a liar!"

Mom's eyes closed briefly. "You need to calm down and listen to me- "

"That's why you never want to spend time with me!" Azula continued, the idea making so much sense! It was perfect! "You're jealous that I'm a princess by blood! You're jealous that I'm of Sozin's line! You're jealous that I'm going to be better than you! I'm going to be more beautiful than you—because you're ugly, just like on the inside! You say I'm the monster, but you're the monster! You're a bitch!"

"Enough," Mom said, standing to her feet, face closing off. "You need to go to your room and wait until I retrieve you. There will be consequences if you disobey. Go now."

"I hate you!" she screamed and ran off, dashing out of the royal garden.

Azula cringed at the memory. She should have been more articulate with Mother! She should have explained herself and what she overheard more clearly and precisely! She should have been better! She should have been perfect, but she was not, and it was her deepest shame! Looking back at those memories, it was so clear how little she knew was going on around her when she thought she always knew everything—because Father said always she was a prodigy.

But if she was perfect, she would have realized what was going on.

How shameful!

"We all overcompensate," Pathik said, cutting through her memories. "I am unsure there is a deeper root to our overcompensation than our shame. Shame is so potent and drives much of what we do; its claws penetrate to the deepest level of our minds, tainting our memories, which influence our actions. This shame you feel, Azula, has deep roots. This may be your hardest chakra to master, even more than your Earth Chakra. You are ashamed of these memories and what they represent."

"Yes," Azula whispered.

"There will always be regret concerning these memories, but you must release your shame, for there is nothing to be ashamed of."

"How can you say that?" she demanded.

"I do not know the nature of your memories, but I have come to know you in your time here, and I know you commit yourself fully to all that you undertake, and I imagine that has always been your nature. I think you accomplished what you could accomplish in those memories, and there was nothing more you could do, for you cannot change other people and their actions. Your shame holds you back from something more. Now accept your shame and, with it, accept the possibility of more. Look to rebirth."

Azula hissed in determination, thinking of those memories but in new ways. Always, she thought it was the last time Grandfather saw her, but really, it was the last time she saw Grandfather and interacted with him, learning from him—for he influenced her as his namesake, and always, she tried to emulate him, being like him to please Father. Always, she thought it was her fault that things deteriorated so swiftly, so impossibly fast, after Father and Grandfather's conversation, but it was Father's fault, for he was the one who boldly tried to undermine Uncle's birthright—after, likely, having Lu Ten assassinated—and antagonized Grandfather, speaking without humility and instead with excessive confidence and boldness.

And her past actions she committed because of her fear and shame would no longer shame her and dictate her future—and would not taint her own children. She would start anew without the burden; the presence would remain, but it would never be a burden again. She could have her peace.

Her golden eyes opened, and her inner flame grew a little more.

"Well done, Azula." Pathik beamed at her, looking very pleased.

"There will be no mastering tomorrow," she breathed, exhausted. "Perhaps for several days."

"You need time to settle."

"Yes. But thank you for your help. I know I could not master my chakras without your guidance."

Pathik smiled easily and tipped his bowl of onion and banana juice back, taking a sip before he answered. "You're welcome, Azula. It pleases me that you are accomplishing it at such a young age. Of those who master their chakras, most are decades older than you. I was almost eighty when I mastered my chakras."

Azula smiled. "I have experienced much. I once resented it, but I can only master my chakras because of those extensive and intensive experiences."

"Yes," Pathik agreed, nodding his head, face becoming more serious than she had seen. "I wish Aang could find similar success as you do. His difficulties are unsurprising but, all the same, concerning. I had a vision long ago that I would teach The Avatar, but I was unprepared for the trials in such a quest. And I don't know if I will complete my quest or not because Aang can't stay here for long. And I can't go with him when he leaves because he won't want me to go with him; he barely tolerates me."

"What are you saying?" she asked carefully.

Pathik's eyes were assessing, reminding her that the man before her was older than Aang's 120 years of age; he was 158 years old. "I will not be here forever to help him master his chakras and aid him in his spiritual questions, and I need to know that you will be there to help him. I'm convinced you will master your chakras in short time, and he needs someone to help him going forward."

Azula nodded. "I vow to help him."

"Good. And as for your nomination for Mother of Air, I wish you luck in convincing him. I believe it's the right solution. But Aang is resistant."

"I probably should not have nominated myself," she admitted. "It only angers him."

"I think it angers him that it angers him—because he cares and believes he shouldn't."

"Because of my lineage."

Pathik shook his head. "Partly. He doesn't care that Ozai is your father and Azulon your grandfather; he cares that Sozin is your great-grandfather. It's about Sozin. Until he finds peace with that, your nomination will always be a source of distrust."

Azula was quiet for several moments. "He does not trust me fully."

"He does not trust your nature as a Child of Fire, for he understands a Child of Fire's nature, especially with your past, as descending, over time, into the same wicked passions as Sozin."

"He said that, because everything good in his life was ruined, I could ruin what strides he has made in reviving Air already—or I could ruin the future strides he makes in reviving Air by besmirching our children."

"There is much work to do," Pathik acknowledged. "Air must return, but Aang is not ready for Air to return because he hasn't made peace with Air's loss and accepting that the Air that was can't come back. I understand—Aang would understand—if you hate such pressure after the pressures you endured in your childhood and adolescence."

Azula smirked and shrugged one of her shoulders. "It is irksome, but I find it thrilling, actually. I yearn for challenge, and he challenges me unlike anyone alive. I do not foresee ever finding him tedious or boring."

"Do you love him?"

She tensed, remembering the various emotions she experienced in the past months because of Aang. For the first time in her life since far before Mother left, she felt content; she felt peaceful and secure. She felt safe, and she had never truly felt safe in her entire life, not even with Mother because there was always the threat of Father. For what felt like an eternity, she had lived her life in fear of Father, the assassins that he could send after her if he was displeased, becoming a failure in his eyes, and, of course, being scarred like Zuko, cursed to forever bear Father's mark on her face.

Azula looked down at her hands, hands that had killed people mercilessly all for the glory of the Fire Nation, for Father, beholden to Sozin's crippling indoctrination. Everyone in the world loathed her, condemned her for the egregious crimes that she had committed, but Aang did not care like others did. He accepted her and forgave her when she tried to kill him, even though she delivered that deadly lightning strike in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se all those years ago. He was willing to live with her in the same house, willing to trust her with his life, The Avatar, the most powerful and important being in the Four Nation and both of the Realms.

"I am attracted to him and fond of him," she responded. "Is that love?"

Pathik smiled. "It can be. But how fond of him are you?"

"Profoundly."

"Do you know Air's customs regarding marriage?"

Azula nodded; she had found the information in the library, along with so much intriguing information she still had trouble processing the genius of Air, which was so dense it required much time on which to ruminate and absorb. "I do."

"You understand what Aang will think if you- "

"I understand," she cut in. "The moment intercourse occurs, we are married; sex is marriage. Monks and nuns were married but lived in separation before the monks made an annual trip to the Eastern and Western Temples and stayed for three weeks to fulfill their conjugal duties and produce more Airbenders."

"But can you make that commitment? As I have heard from Aang, Fire Lord Zuko has many wives in the eyes of Air."

Azula rolled her eyes. "I am not my brother, who has a habit of 'charming' his whores."

"But do you already have a husband in Air's eyes?"

"No."

Pathik smiled. "I commend you. I think your nomination is splendid, although timed poorly, I must say."

Azula nodded. "I will admit my nomination for Mother of Air was impulsive, but I have ruminated on it since, and my conviction has only been reinforced. I understand the nature of the commitment and accept it. I quite like it; you skip to the fun part. I am most fond of him."

"Would you leave?" Pathik challenged. "Would you abandon him?"

"Only if he asks me to," she quipped before sighing. "No, I will not leave him. I stayed after Ba Sing Se, which was not horrifying to me, only terrible, but what could be more terrible than Ba Sing Se? I suppose I am a poor influence on him."

"I believe you could be just what he needs."

"And Samir?" Azula asked.

"She is an Airbender; her energy aligns with Air, but it isn't in harmony; incomplete isn't the right word, but it's probably the closest word. I have to say that it's probably a result of herself hiding it instinctively in a place she recognized on some level as dangerous. Can you imagine what King Kuei would have done if he discovered an airbending child living in Ba Sing Se?"

Azula's jaw clenched in ire at the thought. "I can."

"Samir must have realized that she was in danger and smothered her own airbending, which is why the connection is so weak."

"Aang says it has to do with her diluted blood."

"It's not only to do with that. It should be stronger. But Samir lived in an environment that was oppressive and smothering—and probably gave her pain for 'stepping out of line.' I'm guessing she used airbending before without meaning to when she was younger, possibly three or four years old, not realizing what she was doing, and was punished somehow. I've heard stories of it before—not airbending, but with the other elements. She's protected herself by smothering her airbending connection. Aang needs to help her tap into that connection, make her conscious of it. However, he is not ready to do it; his expectations are impossible. It concerns me deeply."

"Perhaps not now," Azula conceded. "I am concerned, as well, but I have faith in him. I think it would be prudent to tell him soon. I think he can make strides by having another Airbender around besides Appa. Perhaps beginning training Samir will push him forward. It will bring him a joy that has been missing."

Pathik smiled. "I think there are more things now that can bring him joy than there have been for a long time."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The view from the top of the Eastern Air Temple was familiar but not comforting; it only emphasized his loneliness and sorrow, but he was responsible for his loneliness and sorrow. It was his fault that Air was gone and could never return as it was; it would always be his fault.

Aang thought he was getting better at accepting that fact, but his eruption at Pathik and Azula confirmed that he was a liar. After mastering his Earth Chakra, he thought, just maybe, he would be able to master all his chakras, but what a fool he was because he was never going to master his chakras. But he couldn't face Pathik and Azula after flashing The Avatar State at them, not after he swore to himself that he wouldn't lose himself in fury ever again. How quickly he discarded that vow! He stayed at the top of the temple for hours, looking down at the world that looked down at him, condemning him as The Avatar as it should.

The Avatar was evil and always would be.

"What do you see when you look at me—if you look at me?" he whispered, peering up at the clouds from his perch as he thought of Gyatso and all those he once knew. "A disappointment, right? How disappointed you must be. Maybe you'd be glad to be dead so you wouldn't have to be near me. I can't do anything right; I don't know how anymore. I thought things would get easier; I thought things would be easier. How do I come back from this? How do I keep going?"

"Control is an illusion, Aang," Gyatso would say with a kind smile, and Aang yearned to be back when Gyatso said that familiar adage to him. "We barely control ourselves but that is all we can control."

"But I can't control myself," Aang said.

"This is what Life looks like," Gyatso would probably say, "and you must adapt; you must be the leaf in the wind, flexible rather than rigid."

"Look what I did to Ba Sing Se."

"Because you were rigid rather than flexible," Gyatso would remind. "You were so rigid that you couldn't sustain yourself, which led to your eruption."

Aang squeezed his eyes shut. "I killed so many people; I don't know how many, but I know it was more than there were Air Nomads before Sozin's evil."

"What will you do now?" Gyatso would ask.

"What can I do? All I'm stuck with is Samir now, and she's just worthless. Her worth lies in her being alive and living, not being an Airbender—because she's not a real Airbender. That's it."

Gyatso didn't answer—because he couldn't answer, and Aang couldn't conceive an answer Gyatso would supply for the situation.

He leaned on his glider, hunched forward as Agni began to rise in the sky, and he stared, watching the gradual bathing of light across the world. He watched the animals begin their activities, noises natural and instinctive; he felt the energy of the world rouse from its slumber, preparing for another day, making Life possible.

Maybe there was beauty still.

Aang didn't know how long he watched Agni rise, but it was a long time as the light shone directly on him before he snapped open his glider and flew back to the temple grounds. Unlike previous times, the temple was quiet, and he hated the reminder of Air's lack of presence.

He felt the air currents change, and the stomp of walk notified him who approached.

"You and I are going to talk, Twinkletoes," Toph greeted, walking over and grabbing his arm, pulling him along; Aang felt too tired to react and let her pull him. "You're not making fucking sense."

"I know."

"And I think I've finally had an epiphany about how to solve your problem."

"Which is?" he asked dryly.

Toph beamed and sat him down in front of her; she plopped down across from him. "You need to fuck!"

Aang glanced at her, startled. "What?"

"It will help you. Trust me, when I've been fucked good, I think clearer," she said with a careless shrug. "And you definitely need to think clearer. I know you won't be getting fucked, but you'll be doing the fucking, and that should do the same thing. You should think clearer."

"I doubt it," he said, losing interest.

"And someone's going to have to make that sacrifice," Toph continued. "I mean, it's not a sacrifice for you; it's going to be great for you. But there's only one person who can give you what you need. I mean, if the thought didn't disgust me, I'd offer to help you out that way, but you disgust me."

Aang only stared ahead, worn. "Thanks."

"So, that means Lightning Psycho's going to take care of you."

"No, she's not."

"I know you like her," Toph elbowed him—softer than normal. "And honestly, you'll probably fuck her so good you'll knock the psycho out of her. She'll enjoy it; she wouldn't actually think of it as a sacrifice." She began making grand gestures with her arms, voice changing in pitch and inflection. "'Oh, silly blind girl, when shall you realize the fire in my hands is not the only fire I feel? I hold The Avatar's affections, and I drip with fire from the arousal! You think one of the Fire Nation's volcanoes could erupt, but between my legs exists a southern volcano that could erupt at any moment with flaming water, all provoked by the wonder of The Avatar!'" Toph's arms dropped, and cackling laughter exploded from her for a long time before she quieted; her head tilted, face expectant. "How was that?"

"She doesn't talk like that," Aang pointed out with slight amusement.

"That's how I hear her. And I bet the only thing that could tame that southern volcano is your- "

Aang rolled his eyes. "I get the picture."

"Well, I don't—because I can't see!"

"Shouldn't you be thankful to be spared from such a sight?"

Toph shivered. "Oh, you're right. But, I mean, I'm technically doing both of you a favor. Every time you look at her, your heart picks up; she's harder to read, but there are quite a few signs, I think. She looks at you a lot—like, a lot."

"So?"

Toph crossed her arms and shook her head. "Where was this Twinkletoes eight years ago? We could have used you in all our battles! But anyway, I like Lightning Psycho. Once you get past the psycho, she's not bad."

Aang rolled his eyes again. "I'm sure it relieves her that you like her."

Toph grinned. "Exactly. You have my approval, Twinkletoes. Go for it. Fuck her!"

"No."

"Well, we've got to do something! You're all over the place!"

He remained quiet for several moments. "You went to Omashu because it didn't work with your parents, right?"

Toph stiffened. "What's that supposed to do with- "

"Answer the question."

"Fine. My parents are losers, and I made my way to Omashu. Happy?"

"I haven't been happy since before I learned I'm The Avatar."

Toph was quiet, face becoming more serious. "You seemed to me pretty happy during the Great War at times."

"Because you don't know happiness," he replied hollowly. "But you had nowhere to go after you lost your parents, right?"

Toph raised dirty fingers in his direction "Woah. No, no, no. My parents lost me, not the other way around. It's their loss, not mine."

"But you had nowhere to go, and everything felt wrong; you felt lost."

She shuffled her feet before huffing. "Fine, yeah, that's how it felt."

"That's what it's like," he divulged. "I wasn't born of this time nor to this time. I was born in paradise, a place where joy once existed and thrived."

Toph snorted. "Are all Avatars the smartest guy and dumbest guy at the same time? Things weren't so fucking great back then. You know that, don't you? All this perfection you think- "

Aang shook his head. "It wasn't perfect then; I know it wasn't perfect then. But it was better—because Air was alive and beautiful."

"Whatever you say," she scoffed. "I wouldn't want to tell The Avatar what to think."

"You always do."

"Not anymore."

"But how long until you stopped feeling alone once you got to Omashu?" he asked, looking at her even though it was pointless. "How long until you didn't feel restless?"

Toph huffed. "It was a while. Bumi didn't like me at first; I'm sure he never did like me—I know he didn't."

"I wonder why," he muttered, shaking his head.

She punched his arm—hard. "He would never shut up about you, you know. I tried to ruin his perfect image of you—believe me, I tried—but the Fucker of Fire's more stubborn than me!"

Aang felt the urge to ask her about Bumi, but he couldn't. "I'm stubborn," he admitted, not knowing why he said it.

Toph clapped her hands. "Finally. Sometimes you're more Earthbender than I am now—and more than Bumi, too. It's creepy."

"What would you do in my position?" Aang asked softly, but his eyes were rooted on her face, desperate.

She blinked. "Huh. I'd probably- … I don't know. You should probably get better taste in women because you have the worst taste in women—like, ever. First, it was Sugar Queen, which was so weird—I mean, so weird. And now, it's Lightning Psycho!"

"I thought you said she wasn't so bad," he pointed out.

"She's not, but with you? I don't know what to think. It could be a really bad thing or a really good thing."

Aang nodded. "That occurred to me."

"At first, I thought it was insane, but I guess I'm coming around," Toph admitted, crossing her arms, voice becoming a grumble. "Probably all part of her master plan."

"But what would you do in my position?" he repeated. "What would you really do?"

"Probably start pushing out kids to bring back Air."

"I can't do that."

Toph brought her fingers to her eyes to exaggerate their roll. "Of course not. Lightning Psycho will do it for you."

Aang was quiet for several moments, debating if he should discuss that possibility or not. "Do you think she'd make a good mother?"

A cough of laughter escaped Toph, who looked at him in surprise. "I'm not the best one to ask- "

"You've been with her longer than anyone besides me since Zuko freed her, but my judgment's compromised."

"And mine isn't? I call her Lightning Psycho for a reason."

"What do you think?" he asked, feeling desperation. "Evil blood aside, could she be Mother of Air? Would she be a good mother to my children?"

Toph huffed and leaned back. "Well, those kids won't just be your kids; those kids will be her kids, too."

Aang swallowed. "My children won't be of Air; they'll be a mixture of Air and Fire."

"Is that a bad thing?" Toph challenged, putting one cheek on her fist; she looked serious. "I mean, don't throw me off the mountain for saying it, but Air was wiped out because it was pure Air. Maybe if there was a little of that 'admixture,' Air would have survived. Maybe what Air had was amazing and perfect, but it clearly wasn't sustainable because they failed to adapt, whereas Fire adapts pretty good—not as good as Water but still good."

He closed his eyes. "When I look at my children, I want to see Air; I want to see the faces of those beautiful people I knew; I want that familiarity, those specific traits that identify them as from and of Air. But that's not going to happen."

"Is that why you treated Hitchhiker so bad at first?"

Aang sighed. "She's not a real Airbender; she doesn't look how she's supposed to look, and she doesn't have the energy and connection like she's supposed to have, even though there is a connection there. When I look at her, I see my children and how they will be; she is a prophecy, and I can't do anything about it. It's what's going to happen. My children are all going to be worthless, too."

"They're not going to be worthless- "

"Yes, they are," he hissed. "They will be half-spawns, which are abominations and weak, trapped in liminality—having no connection to anything but disconnection! I don't want that for my children! They will destroy airbending and not understand any of Air's culture and ethics. They will be average in every way, even less than average, probably. They will be like Samir- "

"If you say worthless again, I'm going to hit you."

"And I'll hit you back!" Aang snapped. "You have no intelligence! You think I don't know what I'm talking about? You think I haven't thought about it for years since I stopped Ozai? You think I'm stupid? I'm not! Samir confirmed all my fears! I know what's going to happen, and it destroys me; every time I look at her, she rapes my eyes because nothing is how it should be. I love being with Samir because she doesn't understand anything; she's innocent. She's not like you and Pathik thinking you both know things when you know nothing- "

Toph exhaled roughly. "You make it really fucking hard to listen to you."

Aang glared at her. "This is it exactly. If you knew anything, you would listen to me, but you aren't. This is why I like Samir—she's not like you and Pathik. But Samir's going to be like you two one day; she's going to grow up, and everything that's likable about her will be gone, and all that's left will be my hatred for what she is—not a real Airbender, a stupid imposter. Everything that's redeemable about her is because of her youth, but with each day she ages, those redeemable things diminish, and I hate when that day comes because then I'll hate her and scare her."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Toph demanded in shocked disbelief, throwing her hands in the air. "That's fucking badgermole shit!"

He shook his head, wondering why he bothered to explain. "You don't know what it's like. You don't have to think about things like this—you have that luxury. But I wish I had that luxury, too. You think I want to think about things like this? I don't! I hate it! And I hate Sozin so much more because he makes me think of all this! But I have to think about things like this because I'm all that's left, and that's something you're never going to understand or even try to understand! Samir is generous and kind, and I love her because of that; she is a joy—but it has nothing to do with whatever airbending Pathik claims she has. It just has to do with Samir, who's a wonderful child."

Toph ran her fingers over the stone in patterns Aang couldn't recognize. "The only thing I understand is that you don't want your kids to look like Fire."

"That's part of it."

"What if they look like Lightning Psycho? I mean, you like her appearance, right?"

"I thought that was obvious."

Toph huffed. "Just making sure. But if your kids look like her, isn't that a good thing because you already like her appearance? I mean, you're giving serious thought to milking yourself in her!"

"But I don't want them looking more like Fire over time," he divulged quietly. "I'm all that's left of Air, and as the generations pass, my blood—the only blood that is from and of Air fully and utterly—will be diluted over time. I'm going to have to order my children to marry each other to keep Air alive as long as possible, but there will reach a point where they will have to look elsewhere because the inbreeding is so bad and destructive, and Air's primacy and purity will only keep getting diluted until it's eventually lost. Air will die all over again—become extinct all over again."

She seemed more somber, finally seeming to understand. "You've thought about it a lot."

"I have to—because it's serious. I know that it's going to happen no matter what, but whomever I choose as Mother of Air needs to have blood that I can accept. But Azula's blood has Sozin. I trust her now—I may even love her now- "

Toph snorted. "May?"

"- but I don't know if I will trust her and will love her in the future. She may be scheming and may ruin anything good we create. Sozin ruined Air once, and I can't let it happen again. Sozin was the Anus of Fire; he was the world's anus. I can't let him be the Anus of Air."

She shrugged. "Whatever. I think you're more like the Anus of Air, and I think this is all messing up your thinking about Lightning Psycho."

Aang clenched his jaw. "I need answers, and I just can't get the answers. I must know the answers before I ever make my decision."

"What's that?"

"The Mother of Air needs to be a good mother, and I just don't know if Azula would make a good mother; I don't know if she'd be a good mother."

Toph stood to her feet and offered him her hand. "I want you to see something."

Aang accepted her hand and let her guide him to what she wanted him to see. When Samir's laughter reached him, he suspected what she wanted to show him, and he was right when they rounded the corner into the courtyard.

Agni's rays shone everywhere, but his eyes were drawn elsewhere. He watched as Azula played with Samir near the fountain, running after her, and jam from the fruit pies was smeared across their hands. Azula caught up to Samir and smeared some of the jam onto Samir's back, who giggled and spun around wrapped her arms around Azula and rubbed all the jam on her hands onto Azula's garments. It was surprising how well they played. Azula knew how to entertain her and play with her.

Toph elbowed him gently. "Seems like she'd be good with kids; she can play games but still lay down the law. I'll be honest—I could have used a mom like her. I'm jealous a little bit—but if you tell her that, I'll swear on your existence, Master of the Elements, that you're lying."

Aang smiled, breathing easier, feeling a gladness permeate through him, even if it felt hollow because it would never be enough. How could it be enough? "Thanks, Toph. And I'm sorry I haven't been myself."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you stay yourself," Toph said quietly.

He glanced down at her before shaking his head. "I'd rather not talk about that now. I just started feeling some happiness."

Silence.

Toph suddenly squinted and flexed her toes. "They're in the water, aren't they? I can barely feel them."

Aang looked to the fountain, where he noticed that, indeed, Azula and Samir had jumped into the fountain, washing off the jam from their hands and out of their garments. But the washing soon turned to splashing, started surprisingly by Azula, and Aang stared at Azula's expression, which gleamed and shimmered from droplets of water; it was an expression of mischievous pleasure, matching—more like exceeded by—Samir's enthusiasm.

"They're in the fountain," he confirmed softly.

She sighed. "And Lightning Psycho's clothes are definitely soaked based on your heartbeat."

He only nodded, staring at Azula, whose clothes were water-soaked because of Samir's passionate, incessant splashing; the clothes were skin-tight, leaving little to the imagination, emphasizing her feminine figure and curves, the swell of her prominent breasts. And the longer he looked, the more that he could glimpse, unable to help but stare at the forbidden, mesmerizing flesh. He swallowed hard as he saw the outlines of her nipples poke through the fabric and felt arousal sweep through his body, blood rushing south; he forced himself to look away and remember Gyatso's wisdom, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Maybe you're the volcano," Toph muttered, blowing the bangs from her eyes. "Don't even try to deny it. What are you doing? Your imagination's not better than the real thing."

Aang smiled hesitantly and opened his eyes, looking down at her, even though he desperately wanted to look at Azula again. "I'm trying to remember Gyatso's wisdom to stop my erection; it's a lot harder than normal." Upon seeing Toph's wicked grin, he panicked and rapidly shook his head. "I mean, recalling the wisdom is a lot harder than normal, not my penis." His face flushed, and he felt his heart accelerate. "Well, both are harder than normal, but I'm talking about recalling Gyatso's wisdom."

Toph cackled, and her face seemed to burst with happiness. "There you are, Twinkletoes; I've missed you."

The flush on his cheeks was unfamiliar, for it had been a long time since he felt embarrassed. "Me too."

She suddenly punched his arm, surprising him. "I might as well join the fun." She dashed past him and went to the edge of the fountain, plopping herself on the stone and then sank her feet in the cool water.

When he looked back at Azula, vowing to live Gyatso's wisdom, Azula stared back at him from the distance, brows raised. "Shall it be a party?"

"But it is already!" Samir cried out, yanking on Azula's hand to try to dunk her in the fountain.

He hesitated for a moment before grinning, walking closer. "Samir, you're doing it wrong."

Her head snapped toward him, water spraying everywhere from her long hair. "I am?"

Toph sighed and wiped the water from her eyes. "Thanks, kid."

"You're welcome!"

Aang smiled and motioned Samir closer, keeping one eye on Azula, whose eyes were narrow, clearly sensing his line of thought. "You're trying to dunk her, right?"

Samir beamed, face stretching from the force of her grin. "Uh-huh."

"You have to do it like this!" he yelled and raised his arms. Samir gasped, Toph groaned, and Azula smirked as all the water in the fountain rose before slamming into Azula, and Aang made sure that the water didn't slam her head into the stone of the fountain—but otherwise, he showed no mercy. Azula spun around in the fountain, body uncontrolled, and he increased the pressure slightly, making her go faster.

Samir shrieked in delight. "Me! Do me! Do me!"

Aang let go, and when Azula resurfaced with a glower, he laughed. "Now it's a party."

Toph snorted. "But where are the drinks, Twinkletoes?"

Samir grinned and splashed water at Toph's face, and her laughter rang like a squeal in the air. "Here's your drink, Toph!"

Toph groaned and wiped the water from her face, sputtering slightly. "Not really what I had in mind."

Aang opened his mouth, but Azula slung a wave of water at him, directed by her sweeping arm over the water's surface, and he let it slam against him. When he blinked the water out of his eyes, she stood in front of him, golden eyes challenging. "You cheated."

"Avatar," he quipped, feeling no resentment that he was The Avatar in that moment.

It was probably the only time he'd ever felt no resentment in his life about it.

She smirked. "What do we do with cheaters, Samir?"

Samir latched onto his arm and hung off him. "Dunk! Dunk!"

He let them dunk him, one pair of hands tiny but insistent and the other soft but firm.

When he resurfaced, he felt eyes watching him, and he turned around, water dripping down his face and through his hair. Pathik sat on one of the benches away from the fountain and smiled kindly, bowing his head briefly; there were tears in his eyes.

Aang felt tears well in his eyes, and it wasn't from the fountain. Things would never be okay, but maybe they would be a little better—somehow. Not now, not yet—but someday.

Right?

Samir tugged on his hand, and her gray eyes were beautiful and mesmerizing. "Can you dunk me, please?"

He did.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"The Air Chakra is the next chakra that you must master," Pathik explained, and Azula listened carefully. Aang sat across from her, but he said he was not going to attempt to master his Air Chakra, for he said he could not master it. Azula and Pathik wisely accepted his explanation and did not challenge him about it. "The Air Chakra deals with love and is blocked by grief; it is located, as it should be, in the heart. What grieves you? What events in your life produce tears in your eyes, even years later? What losses have you suffered? Whom have you loved and lost?"

Azula's eyes closed, and she saw Father's flaming hand descend to Zuko's face; her brother's screams were ever fresh in her mind, and the smell of burning flesh filled her nose. She watched as her older brother, the only one she had left after Mother disappeared, was shamed before the entire nobility of the Fire Nation, scarred by Father and then forever banished to hunt the elusive, thought-to-be-extinct Avatar. Then she remembered how she felt when Mother divulged Lu Ten's death. She never let her tears or sorrow be seen, knowing that if her Father found out, he would punish her, but she felt shocked and saddened over her only cousin's death—someone who she had sometimes looked up to like an elder brother after Zuko, someone who played with her when she was younger and had shown her the secret passages, someone from whom she had learned, however minimally. Then, she remembered the sight of Grandfather's body being set ablaze by Father at his funeral, the hidden gleeful expression on Father's face, the knowledge that Mother abandoned her and would not save her from Father if she angered or disappointed him, and the knowledge that Mother murdered Grandfather.

She had always been fond of Grandfather Azulon, her namesake, for he had never threatened her, unlike Father and had never acted silly to her and Zuko like Uncle. Though her interactions with Grandfather were rare, she enjoyed them immensely, and some of her fondest memories were of Grandfather, who was so powerful—never more apparent than when he defeated Father on that fateful day. Grandfather seemed simultaneously so mighty that he could conquer the entire world and so calm that she enjoyed his presence whenever she, Zuko, and Mother ate dinner with him. She trusted Grandfather always until that fateful day when she misinterpreted his decree for Father to sacrifice Zuko, and she lost that love she felt for him.

But the greatest grief that withered her heart—Mother fleeing in the dead of night and finding time and opportunity to say goodbye to Zuko, to declare how much she loved him, but she failed to reciprocate for her, her only daughter.

On that damned night, Azula hid in Zuko's room, unbeknownst to him, alert and ready, terrified but determined. If Father entered Zuko's room, she would be ready to wake him and pull him into the secret passage, defying Grandfather's order! When the door opened, Azula lost breath, about to wake Zuko, but she realized it was Mom, and the relief was immense and pure. She was about to reveal herself, run up to Mom and demand to know if she saved Zuko, but she noticed Mom's clothes, which froze her in place, in the safety of the darkness of the shadows.

"Zuko, please, my love, listen to me," Mom whispered urgently, shaking Zuko gently. "Everything I have done, I have done to protect. Remember this, Zuko—no matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are."

Azula didn't understand, couldn't understand. Why did it sound like Mom was saying… goodbye? Was she leaving? What was Mom doing? Why was she saying such things? Why did her voice crack and break? Why did her face, always so beautiful, shrivel in despair?

Azula snuck past Zuko's confused and disoriented perception and followed Mom after she left Zuko's room, and there were no guards present. Something was wrong—very wrong. She slowly followed Mom, who was clearly distracted, which was the only reason why she did not sense her following her so determinedly.

Mom was trapped in emotional turmoil, but why? Zuko was safe! Why was she sad? Why did it sound like she was… leaving?

When Mom stopped at Azula's door, she was prepared to dart out of the shadows and hug Mom's legs, begging her not to leave, to apologize for all the things she said earlier in the garden, but Mom did not open the door; she only stared at the beautifully engraved dragon.

"May you be well, Princess Azula," Mom whispered, face drawn, and she looked so old with tears streaming out of her eyes. "Have peace, my precious daughter. Forgive me for not giving it to you."

Mom's fingers brushed over the door before she turned and left, leaving Azula heartbroken in the shadows. Dreadful questions echoed in her ears, tormenting her. Was she not good enough, unworthy of Mom's love? Why hadn't Mom said goodbye to her as she had to Zuko?

By the morning, it was clear what Mom did—she murdered Grandfather to save Zuko's life.

Heartbreak and despair—and rage—was all she knew for so long because of it, for the answers to the questions were clear. Mother thought she was a monster, unworthy of any affection, for she was always dangerous and had to be controlled.

Looking back, it was eerily recognizable how Father weaponized his anger against her, turning her against Mother; he was avenging the loss he, too, suffered by twisting Princess Ursa's beautiful daughter, who was the spitting image of her mother, into something she was not. Father whispered that Mother thought that she was a monster, incapable of love, happiness, and peace. Azula loved Father, Grandfather, and Zuko, and she had lost each of them in some way, but it was Mother's loss that ruined her; Mother changed everything.

Mother abandoning her was the source of her most harrowing grief.

"We all love and have love to give," Pathik said, piercing through her memories. "But when that love is taken and becomes grief, the pain is overwhelming; it's consuming. The grief distorts what was, blinding our perception of events."

Perhaps her memories of Mother were wrong, for to have loved her once meant things were good and Mother was good. But Mother was not a child and had different realities to face. But Azula was only beginning to realize those different realities.

She finally understood the depths of Mother's love, for Mother murdered Agni's anointed ruler, descended from Agni himself, to save Zuko's life—to save her son's life. Mother left her children where they could be Prince and Princess, heirs to the Dragon's Throne, rather than outlaws and traitors, forced to live like peasants to survive, always running and never resting, looking over the shoulder for assailants.

Azula always conceived the situation as Mother's lack of love for the reason why she and Zuko were left with Father, but what if it was a miscalculated gesture of love? What if Mother was being selfless and inflicting on herself the deepest of agonies so she could ensure that her children would have better lives? How could Mother have foreseen the events that would occur? Reasonably, Mother could never have anticipated the fates of her children.

"Love is such a complex emotion, more so than any other," Pathik continued. "The love we have to give exists even when those we loved are gone. There are always more loved ones to love, for love is reborn anew, and the love we think is gone is found again, connecting the love that is with the love that was in an endless cycle. The love you lost is love that lives even when our loved ones do not, for our love for our loved ones is not our loved ones themselves; it's the connection, intimacy, trust, and belonging that we feel for them. And those things will find you again if you let yourself be found."

Azula saw the Zuko she knew and loved during her childhood, before his banishment, and she saw the Zuko of now, the reigning Fire Lord who protected her when she did not deserve it, went to war to save her life. For a long time, she did not like the Zuko of now because he was so different from the Zuko who was, the brother she had before his banishment, but she loved her brother and who he had become, for he was both a great man and good man—the rarest man.

She saw a flash of Samir, a lovely child who latched onto her with more zeal and trust than Azula deserved. She saw Aang grinning, gray eyes deep and expressive, and his laugh floated in her ears, bringing her peace. She felt the security that she experienced when he was around. It was true that she had healed somewhat after the Great War mostly on her own with Zuko's help, but it was Aang who had brought her to this point, to this moment when she could finally lay her haunted past to rest, to indulge in her inheritance that she received from Sozin by conquering over the painful memories.

"None of us have long to love, even Avatars. Maybe especially Avatars," Aang said during their stay on Ember Island, face pained and eyes ancient. "You need to take love for granted—because you won't have it forever. What do you do with the time you're given? I wasted my time; I once had love, and it's gone. My memories aren't enough; I didn't take my people's love for granted, and I didn't take the world I lived in, the same one I restlessly yearn for, for granted, and I paid the price—and still am paying the price of my immaturity. Now both are gone, and the void is immense and unfillable, and I feel no love. Maybe I want to feel that again."

Azula wanted to feel that love, as well. And she wanted it with him, for there was no one better, not because of The Avatar but Aang; there was no one better than Aang.

She opened her eyes and smiled slightly—sadly—at Aang, who sat across from her still—but now with haunted eyes. Clearly, although he did not actively attempt to master his Air Chakra, Pathik's words settled inside him and provoked his dark thoughts about Air.

"You will master it someday," she vowed.

Aang's eyes were dim and wild. "We'll see."

Pathik bowed his head, and he may have even winked. "You mastered your Air Chakra, Azula. Do you have enough energy to undertake another?"

Azula glanced at Aang. "Yes. I am ready."

"Good, very good," Pathik praised before closing his eyes once more. "The next chakra is the Sound Chakra, which deals with truth but is blocked by lies, like the lies we tell ourselves; it is located in the throat. What lies have you fed yourselves? What mountains of falsehoods have you erected to hide the painful truths?"

She hissed at the memory of the girl of the Great War. "Trust is for fools!" she snarled at the specter of Mother before her coronation during Sozin's Comet. "Fear is the only reliable way." But those words were not her words but Father's words, words that she had heard daily for years. But her fear was reinforced by a deeper lie in which she believed utterly that she must attain perfection, for anything less than perfection was to be nothing. But she lied to obscure the truth, which was painful. However, she knew always the truth, deep down.

All good lies contain a truth, and Azula was possessed by many good lies. But she tired of the lies, which only enslaved her; she yearned for freedom, which the lies threatened.

Lies were golden chains, and she would break free of her golden chains.

Azula's eyes snapped open, and she exhaled slowly, feeling her inner flame expand more. "Two more to go," she murmured.

Aang smiled. "Congratulations."

"Did you master- "

"No."

She nodded. "Perhaps you shall find success on the next one."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Aang smiled painfully, not sure why she had such hope in him. "We'll see," he said softly.

Pathik hummed. "Is your endurance enduring, Azula?"

Azula's golden eyes gleamed. "I want to master the rest."

"That's four all at once," he pointed out, not sure why he was so surprised.

"I can do it, and I want you to keep trying."

"I'm only going to fail."

"Until you succeed."

Pathik smiled. "Then let us begin. Our next chakra, second to last, is the Light Chakra, which deals with insight and is blocked by illusions; it is located in the forehead. What illusions have blinded you? What obscures your perception?"

Aang closed his eyes and inhaled slowly and exhaled more slowly; he tried to center himself and focus, but the moment he did, he saw himself murdering Ba Sing Se, and he shook his head, coming out of his meditation after just beginning.

He was too weak to master his Light Chakra—just like all the other chakras except his Earth Chakra.

Pathik didn't look surprised by his failure, only nodding his head and watching Azula; Aang watched her, too, daring to look at her in ways he hadn't before.

She was beautiful, absolutely, but was she honest? Most of the time she was, but could he trust her about the most important thing?

He just didn't know.

Pathik hummed. "Illusions can be so potent that we end up worshipping them, loving them, and believing in them—even when we shouldn't. These illusions are often regarding our perception of ourselves, specifically our appearances. We often care about how we appear and not who we are, for who we are is not how we appear. Appearances are performances, and a performance is not truth; a performance is predicated on deception, a falsehood, a reprieve from reality with lies. But our illusions can encompass those we know and love. In my experience, our illusions about other people are more difficult to dissuade and see through, for we always want to have a clear understanding about ourselves, but about others, we often don't want a clear understanding; we prefer the simpler, cloudier illusion we hold onto. But insight is worth the pain it initially produces. To see clearly and connect with a keen understanding is wisdom that cannot die."

Azula's eyes opened, and he felt the strength of her chi force rise; it brimmed but was controlled. It was greatly impressive.

"You are a prodigy," he observed, smiling.

She sat straighter. "That is not an illusion."

"Certainly not."

"Onto the next," Azula ordered, waving a hand. "I am invigorated."

Aang certainly agreed with her assessment; her chi force only seemed to get stronger the more time passed.

Pathik beamed. "You have approached the end of your journey, Azula. You have reached the last chakra, the Thought Chakra, which deals with cosmic energy and is blocked by earthly attachments; it is located in the crown of the head. This does not mean that you cannot bond with others; it means that you must learn the concept of letting go, the ultimate sign of healthy flexibility, which is priceless and profound. What—whom—attaches you to this world?"

Aang's eyes shut, and he saw Appa, his best friend, and he watched as Momo chirped at him from his mind's eye. And standing in the saddle, on top of Appa, Azula smirked down at him, motioning for him to join her, and he felt the urge to, indeed, join her—to stay by her side for as long as she allowed him. Then, finally, in the background, he saw Zuko, Katara, Sokka, Toph, and Suki. He still cared for those who had abandoned him, betraying his trust, and the sight of them helped him soften his heart towards them a little more. But the process was made easier by the fact that he had already let go of so much after the Great War, for his bonds with Katara, Sokka, and Toph were nonexistent; he let them go and legitimately thought he was never going to see any of them again. He let go of the illusions surrounding his friends, leaving him along with himself, Appa, Momo, and his past lives—that was it. That was all he had, for he let everything else go.

But there were the memories of his race, the serene Air Nomads, and foremost was Gyatso, who taught him and cared for him when no one else would. But he didn't want to let go of Gyatso nor his race. How could he let go of them?

"Control is an illusion, Aang," Gyatso whispered in his mind, the source derived from his memories. "You must let go. You aren't killing us; you aren't saying we do not matter. But you prove that we hold no power over you; we do not attach you to the world because you attach yourself. You are yourself; we are not yourself. You have already started letting us go, Aang, because you still live and strive after the Attack; you attach yourself to the world. But now you must finish letting go."

Aang felt his body shake, and behind Gyatso and his race the cosmic bridge was visible, getting closer but farther simultaneously. He looked up and stared at the huge body of himself, and he immediately noticed that something was clearly different from before as he saw during the Great War. His counterpart's body was much larger, bursting with primordial energy and power as it sizzled through the enormous body like veins themselves. And those veins, like they did in a human's body, all led to the heart, and in the heart, in the very middle of his counterpart's cosmic-powered chest, was a source of brilliant energy with light drifting away before returning in a cycle of wisps.

Something indescribably ancient and profound stirred inside him; the yearning to reunite with himself, with what he was, was overwhelming—but not as overwhelming as the familiar loss of his race, of Air.

He sniffed as he stared up at himself, visible across the vast distance of the cosmos. "I miss you. But I miss them more. I'm not ready yet."

A brief peace unknown saturated him, and he knew that he was understood—all his past lives understood.

Aang came back to his body with a gasp, gray eyes misty, and looked at Pathik; he shook his head, feeling ashamed. "I couldn't do it."

Pathik's eyes crinkled, and a warm hand patted his shoulder. "I admire that you tried. You are much farther along that I was at this age in grief. I know you will master your chakras, but it will take time. My hope and confidence in you are not misplaced. You will be fully realized."

He nodded, unable to speak, feeling the onslaught of emotion.

Azula's sudden hiss brought his attention to her, and he was surprised by the perspiration breaking out on her forehead, becoming more visible by the moment, sliding down her cheeks and past her clenched jaw to drip onto her shaking hands.

Out of all her chakras, he thought the Thought Chakra would be her easiest.

Pathik nodded at him. "You can help her finish what she's started."

Aang watched her for several more moments, thinking carefully; he felt a kinship with her, for he recognized the struggle on her face. "It's the connection, isn't it?" he asked. "It feels like you have to sacrifice all your physical connections for a spiritual connection."

Azula's lips thinned. "Yes."

"I think the Azula I met on Ember Island probably would have sacrificed those physical connections for superior firebending."

"Yes."

"Look how far you've come," he emphasized, stretching his arms even though she couldn't see it. "Look at the connections you've made. The connections aren't bad; the connections are good. Because we all have connections, and we all need connections. But letting go means seeing things clearly, freeing yourself of that which hinders you and compromises you; it's the culmination of everything you've mastered so far; it's the final but biggest piece. I'm not there yet, but I think you are. You're ready, Azula. You must let go. You aren't killing your physical connections; you aren't saying your physical connections don't matter. But you prove that your physical connections hold no power over you. Your physical connections don't attach you to the world because you attach yourself to the world—because you have strength and will. You are you and no one else; you are yourself, capable of so much. Your physical connections do not make you, you; they can shape you, but the source comes from you."

Pathik beamed at him. "You said it better than I could."

Several seconds passed before her beautiful golden eyes snapped open, blue fire erupting from her lips. "Incredible. It is like Sozin's Comet is in my chi itself!" Excitement, pride, wonder, and awe was carved into her features, and Aang stared, not caring what Pathik saw on his face.

She was amazing.

"Congratulations, Azula," Pathik commended, smiling with pride. "You have now achieved your true potential; your firebending will burn brighter than ever."

Azula bowed. "Thank you, Guru Pathik. You are a worthy instructor." She looked at him, face displaying a vulnerability that surprised him. "Thank you, Aang. It grieves me you did not find more success, but when you are ready, I can help if that would be helpful."

"It would be," he acknowledged, though he knew he'd never accomplish what she had. It was impossible. "Only one mastered chakra. Six more to go."

Pathik frowned before his face cleared. "Perhaps now is the time to discuss Samir. I think she can help you, Aang, come to peace; she can help you master your chakras."

Aang tensed, infuriated at the reminder. "No, she can't. Why won't you stop? She's from Air, not of Air."

"She is- "

"No, she's not- "

"You smothered Ozai's ancestral connection to his firebending," Pathik said quickly. "And I believe that Samir's is smothered—by herself for instinctive connection. The connection- "

"The connection isn't a real connection!" he snapped. "It's not how it's supposed to feel! Her blood is too diluted! She's not a real Airbender! I can sense her connection, if you can even call it a connection, Pathik! It's so pathetically weak, the very connection, that it can't even be- "

"But she is an Airbender, if you teach her how to tap into her connection. She's not airbending now, but if you make her conscious of it, she can use airbending. You are The Avatar, and your touch and guidance can focus that ancient connection that endures in her blood."

Aang was astonished, eyes bulging, breathing increasing, heart racing, mind sputtering, and he no longer felt weary, angry, or somber; he felt hopeful, though he still doubted. "Are you lying to me?"

"No. Samir is an Airbender—because you will awaken her airbending connection that's too weak right now, made weak by her, I suspect, to protect herself in Ba Sing Se, which was an oppressive place."

He swallowed, finally beginning to see that Pathik might have a point—it might be possible! "Whereas Air wants to be free."

Pathik looked relieved. "Yes, Aang. Do you understand now?"

"She has the well for airbending, attuned with the right energy, but the well is empty—or just has a few drops in it," he whispered. "She may have emptied the well herself, punished for a time when she used airbending, rightly saw airbending as the reason for her punishment, and unconsciously emptied the well to protect herself."

Azula's face was simultaneously proud but sad. "Samir is a survivor—like you."

Aang glanced at her, lips stretching. "Like you, too."

"Do you understand, Aang?" Pathik asked.

"I have to get her to fill her well, let it be filled by her own natural energy, which she's smothered for a long time."

"Exactly."

Pathik wasn't lying—or at least believed what he was saying with a stunning conviction.

Aang stared uncomprehendingly for several moments before looking down. "I'm sorry I ignored you. If what you say is true, I can start Air's revival right now."

Pathik hesitated, and Azula's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

"Such a strategy only revives Air now, not in the future."

Aang sighed in understanding, unsurprised. "Her children wouldn't be Airbenders—or her grandchildren wouldn't because of the dilution in blood. I'm not not reviving Air, only giving it a momentary presence in Samir and her children—but, likely, not her grandchildren. It will only help in the short-term, not the long-term."

"Correct. It comes down to blood. Blood determines a bender and a bender's capabilities. It's the same reason Ozai regained his bending—because you can't change blood."

Azula frowned. "Why has Indra not already blessed people with airbending to try to restore the imbalance? The Elemental blessed the most spiritual of their worshippers, which formed the Races and made bending a lineal inheritance."

Pathik sighed. "I don't know. I sought out Indra for many years, trying to gain airbending, but she eluded me, ironically enough. The only answer is—she's weak and can't do as she should."

Aang stared at Pathik, face unreadable. "You told Samir she's an Airbender."

"I did. We both know you will do everything in your power to make her conscious of her airbending, but now you will be aware of the limits—you are not creating a new lineage of Air in her, only building off the remnant that exists in her now."

"A very distant remnant," Azula cut in. "I suspect I know of the Airbender who endures in her."

Aang's gaze snapped to her quickly, the urgency immense. "Who? How long?"

"It was in Avatar Kuruk's reign during the Splintering."

"That's impossible," he denied. "If that's true, it's far too distant."

"But it is true—it is the only explanation since Sozin eradicated all of Air. It was during the Splintering- "

"Splintering?" Pathik asked while Aang remembered the title from what Azula shared when they were on his vacation at Ember Island, already knowing the story.

"Rival descendants of Kai's line, breaking from the Unification, splintering from it," Azula explained. "There was a civil war in the Fire Nation for several centuries, off and on. It only occurred due to Avatar Kuruk's disregard. Air's lineage reached Kai's line itself in the Half-spawn Airbender Fire Lord, Fire Lord Zyrn- "

Pathik blinked in astonishment—while Aang just sat there, recalling Azula's history lessons on Ember Island. He had found grim satisfaction in that an Airbender had occupied Fire's most prestigious position, though his satisfaction had morphed into discontent upon learning of Fire Lord Zyrn's end. "What? There was an Airbender who was the Fire Lord?"

Azula nodded, unsurprised; she had already encountered Aang's own shock months ago. "Yes, I believe so. There is no direct evidence, only the legends passed down to us through our histories and records, but it makes too much sense. Zyrn's successor—and assassin—Ekhtol vilified Zyrn to Fire throughout his entire reign, justifying his assassination of Zyrn, whom was incompetent to the extreme and dominated easily by everyone, to our race. The most important point is that nobody denied Ekhtol's claims—it was accepted as common but resented knowledge. That alone verifies that Fire Lord Zyrn was an Airbender- "

"How was he an Airbender?"

"He was born by an airbending nun, who laid with Fire Lord Houka as a result of a political deal that damned Fire for generations, though we have forgotten what exactly the source of the deal was—the very reason for it. Zyrn's son Jyzhol of Ishaner, also a known Airbender, bred himself into one of the most prominent noble families in the Fire Nation. In fact, it was his act of breeding himself and siring several children that augmented this noble family's eminence. I suspect Samir is descended from this noble family, for it is the only family I know of that contains Air's blood. The gray eyes are the same eyes as Ty Lee's, and I have looked into both to see the obvious." He felt relieved that her simmering fury no longer simmered. Or she had become a better actress. But because she was doing so well mastering her chakras—much better than he thought she would—it seemed most likely that she made peace with Mai and Ty Lee's betrayal. He was proud of her and happy for her. "It was her family that sprung to eminence from Fire Lord Zyrn, an Airbender born by an airbending nun. I do not think there is a family of Earth, least of all one that produces a whore, that contains Air's blood in such a way."

"That makes sense based on the annals I've read," Aang said quietly, thinking back, not truly surprised that an Airbender once sat on the Dragon's Throne; he had thought about sitting on the Dragon's Throne himself before—like somehow killing Sozin and taking over, as only he could. "Kuruk sired children by several of the nuns, which provoked several monks and other nuns to visit the other nations to produce children. I never imagined it would reach Kai's line, but it did."

Pathik nodded. "That is fascinating, but because it was a very long time ago, much longer than I had thought, it's quite amazing—it's a miracle, literally—that Samir still has that connection to Air; her blood is very diluted, but not diluted enough to eviscerate that connection."

Aang frowned because Pathik was right. "It shouldn't be possible," he whispered. "You're right. Samir's lineal descent is far too long ago for even any airbending blood to be left in her. It's not possible—it literally isn't possible; it's unthinkable. But she has the blood—it's clear. This is the only explanation, especially with the connection to Ty Lee."

"Yes. However, Samir's line will only bear Airbenders forever if she marries another Airbender."

Azula's eyes widened slightly in realization, and her gaze pinned Aang in place. "Aang's son."

"Or Aang himself would marry her- "

Aang flinched, feeling horrified by what Pathik was suggesting. "Stop. That's not… that's not ever going to happen. Why would you even put that in my mind? Bedding Samir? That's insane!"

Pathik's eyes crinkled, and he looked uncomfortable, but he only shrugged his shoulders in admittance. "It is a potential option for you. You could raise her to be the Mother of Air if that is something you desire."

Azula's brows rose, realization clear on her face, and Aang didn't understand how she was so calm about such an 'option'! "It is a strategy to consider- "

"No, it's not!" Aang shouted, aghast, staring at her uncomprehendingly. "Why would I possibly- "

"You could reunite your lineage one generation sooner with a girl, who will mature into a woman, who possesses the blood of the old Air Nomads in her veins," Azula explained softly, and her golden eyes averted from him. "Air's new lineage could be free from impurities because all future Airbenders will have both your blood and Samir's blood rather than a single branch descending from Samir and one of your sons."

He recalled his emphasis on Sozin's blood in Azula's veins, and he realized how deeply that emphasis impacted Azula's perception of the Mother of Air. He should feel relieved that she understood, but he felt sick; he felt horrified. Why did he feel horrified? Why—why?

"That's a stupid solution," he said through gritted teeth.

Azula's eyes tightened. "It is a sensible solution if you think you can find no worthy Mother of Air. You would have to wait ten years for Samir, but that gives you plenty of time to teach her everything she must learn and know about Air before she bears you Airbenders, and it gives you plenty of time to deal with my father and Dark- "

"You can say his name now," Pathik interrupted quietly. "Your chakras are mastered; Vaatu cannot influence you now."

"It gives you plenty of time to deal with my father and Vaatu without the pressure of siring Airbenders—because you know that Samir will provide Air's rebirth for you," Azula explained, voice detached, and Aang hated it fiercely. "She would be the perfect Mother of Air."

He felt the disbelief so strongly he could barely think; he felt on the verge of hysterical. "No, she wouldn't!"

Pathik's brows rose. "You mentioned to me that you wanted a woman of Air to be the Mother of Air, and you now have the opportunity with Samir, but you will have to wait at least a decade."

"Then I was wrong!" he snapped, eyes heated, the memories of his peaceful contentment playing with Azula and Samir in the fountain assaulting; it had felt right. "Samir will never be the Mother of Air; she will be a Child of Air."

Azula smiled slightly. "It is prudent, Aang- "

Aang's fists clenched, and the words, summoned from his truest, deepest parts, tore out of him: "Just because you're ready to give up on you being Mother of Air doesn't mean that I am!"

Silence.

He blinked and upon realizing what he admitted, he flushed, averting his gaze. "That's the last I want to hear of that stupid solution," he stressed, staring at his hands, eyes tracing the tips of his tattoo of mastery. "Samir isn't going to be the Mother of Air. She will just be a regular Airbender—if being a regular Airbender is possible."

Azula's golden eyes were warm when he met them. "Maybe she can be a worthy one, instead."

Aang cringed but said nothing, knowing she was wrong.

She smiled. "And you should tell her," she encouraged. "You are the one who will restore her unknown ancestral inheritance. It means more coming from you. Indra saved her in Ba Sing Se and told her to find you, and Samir has succeeded. She ran away from the only home she has ever known, and she trusts you."

He smiled, but it felt forced even to him. "And I trust her to make Air proud and honor them."

If only he could mean such a bold, disgusting lie.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Samir was ecstatic to learn that she really was an Airbender, but Azula knew that it could not compare to Aang's hesitant sternness; unlike Samir, who seemed to bounce off the walls, never staying still, he was somber—likely because he kept thinking about Samir's various imperfections, how she was unlike the Airbenders he knew. There was a desperate urgency in his voice, his eyes, and his body, and Azula hoped fervently that Pathik's suspicion was correct.

Azula watched curiously as Aang meditated with Samir; his back was tense, but not stiff; his posture was steady and relaxed, looking natural while his fists were held in front of him, elbows bent, knuckles resting against their twin, and his breathing was soft. He sat in the lotus position on the edge of the Air Temple. Apparently, it was an Air Nomad ritual when the bending awoke; it was in an Airbender's blood, the Air Nomad-bred way.

Across from Aang sat Samir, trying but failing to mimic Aang's position and posture; she did well, but it was apparent that she lacked the instinct that all genius benders, such as herself and, more importantly, Aang, possessed. Apparently, Aang was trying to get Samir to concentrate and focus on centering herself; she needed to consciously tap into Air's energy, making herself aware of it, however distantly. Toph and Pathik were sent to other parts of the temple, for both she and Aang knew their presences would be a distraction. Azula suspected that Aang sent Pathik away because he did not want to feel Pathik's judgment during the process.

However, distractions were still present, for it was obvious that Samir could barely sit still; her eyes did not stay closed for long, always opening every few seconds to peer at Aang—checking to make sure he was still there and/or his eyes were closed, likely.

She knew Aang had great patience about anything but Air. When it came to Air, he was impatient and distressed. Azula wondered how he would be able to handle Samir's obvious mediocrity.

Azula hoped he was more understanding and kind than Father ever was to her and Zuko. Ordinarily, Aang was so different from Father, but she noticed similarities, particularly when Aang's determination and passion clouded his judgment, especially about Air. Again, it was about Air; the thought of Air changed Aang's perception, and he became more serious. Ironically, he was more The Avatar when discussing Air, speaking with ultimate authority and power, daring anyone to challenge his perception and understanding.

It was similar to Father's judgment against anyone who defied him.

Staring at Samir, Azula felt a fondness for the girl, for the way frustration and impatience seethed inside Samir reminded her of Zuko during childhood before Mother left. Zuko was slow and almost illiterate in his learning and progression, and Azula teased him constantly, knowing it would motivate him more to catch up to where he should be. But her brother failed for a long time while she never did.

For, of course, Azula was a prodigy—just like Mother, Grandfather, and Uncle.

However, she no longer felt like a prodigy and had not for a long time. If the conclusion of prodigy is madness as Azula endured for years after the pressure overwhelmed her, she knew Samir would crumble from the pressure to be the first Airbender in the world after The Avatar, for it was more pressure than Azula ever experienced. Perhaps it was a good thing that Samir lacked prodigiousness and genius, but she knew she had to convince Aang of that.

On Ember Island, Azula shared with Aang how she had bent her first flame at only three years of age, expecting him to be awed like everyone else—except Mother, Grandfather, and Uncle—had always seemed. But Aang had not been awed, not even a little; instead, he looked unsurprised and unruffled, almost unconcerned of her prodigious past. Azula had been disgruntled, almost indignant, and so she had asked him when he had first bent when he was a child.

Aang had only laughed, insisting that she would not believe him, but she had pressed him stubbornly, eager to hear of his answer. He had eventually worn down and told her: "I don't remember when I first began bending—I was too young."

"That is not an answer, Aang," she pointed out, almost pleading for with him to tell her; the curiosity was intense.

"Airbender," he quipped, grinning. "Avoid and evade."

"Firebender," she responded. "Persistent and willful. When did you start bending?"

Aang shook his head. "I've always been bending since I can remember. I was less than a year old when I started airbending. Gyatso said that when the Elders were testing to determine the identity of The Avatar a year after Roku's death, I was among the other infants. But when they tested me, it was different. Gyatso said that when I saw the toys—my toys—I started airbending, shooting tiny gusts of wind at the toys to move them around, to play with them—as I've done for thousands of years."

Ever since he revealed that truth, Azula felt sort of felt forgotten. For as long as she could remember, she had been the best, invincible in her ability to understand and perfectly replicate the bending forms. At the same time, though, she felt relieved that the pressure, pressure that Father had placed always on her to be the best, was taken from her shoulders. Based on what she had seen from Aang, and how effortless he could bend all of the elements in a majestic show that left her breathless because of her awe, she knew it was a title that he deserved. She did not know if he was a natural prodigy, far beyond any who she had ever heard of, or if it was because he was The Avatar.

She believed it to be a combination of both.

"Can I do airbending now, please?" Samir begged, face twisting into a pout, and her gray eyes were wide with urgency. "We've been sitting here forever!"

Another pair of gray eyes opened, strict. "Once you tap into the connection, you will be an Airbender forever. You must learn discipline. This is a serious test, Samir. You must be ready. You must do it yourself."

Samir crossed her arms over her chest, and Azula felt brief concern that she would fall over the ledge before realizing that Aang would easily catch her. "This is dumb."

Aang's face spasmed. "You've been spending too much time with Toph."

"Why can't we just play instead?" Samir asked, forgoing her performance of mimicking Aang; she jumped forward and grabbed Aang's large hands with uncoordinated movements and tugged. "Please! Maybe if we play, I'll be an Airbender." Samir's face became alight with promise. "Here! I'll jump off the ledge, and then I'll start flying! Or maybe we can get Toph, and she'll push me off! Then I'll start flying!"

Azula closed her eyes briefly. "She is from Air, certainly," she murmured before raising her voice, eyes narrowing when it seemed that Aang was actually considering—considering!—Samir's absurd suggestion, even if only out of gloomy frustration. "You will start falling, Samir. You do not want to fall to your death."

Samir beamed at her, trusting. "But Aang will catch me."

"He will not always be there to catch you."

"But he's The Avatar."

Aang pulled gently on Samir's delicate arm and forced her to sit in front of him; his gray eyes were serious and almost reviling. "You need to listen to me, okay? You only listen to me. You need to do this, okay? This is the biggest thing you'll ever do in your life. I'm doing this because it's the only way- "

Samir huffed. "But why? Can't you just make me an Airbender?"

Azula sighed. "No, you must- "

"Let me," Aang interrupted, raising a hand in her direction; his gaze remained on Samir. "This is serious, Samir; it's the most serious moment of your life. You're an Airbender, which means that there are a lot of expectations. You will have to do things you've never thought of nor imagined; you will have to be of Air; you will have to do what I tell you; you will have to learn and understand as all Airbenders did before Sozin. I want you to be ready. You will be the first Airbender in over one hundred years." Aang's hands cradled Samir by her arms, stretched in front of him; their gray eyes were locked on each other. "This is historical; it is monumental. But I don't want to ruin it; I don't want to ruin you; and I don't want you to ruin it. I want you to be ready for what to expect; I need you to be ready; I need you to be okay. Okay?"

Samir nodded, voice a mumble in her acknowledgment. "Okay."

Aang smiled, but it seemed almost sharp in its intensity, unable to be gentle—because he was too desperate for it happen already. He'd been waiting to feel airbending again for years, and now that the time arrived, he couldn't contain himself, it appeared. Azula felt relieved that he was simply not demanding perfection of Samir—yet. "We're going to start again, and you're going to tap into that energy—that well inside you. Now close your eyes and think- "

"But I'm already thinking," Samir protested in a whine, face puckering.

"Think of new things," Aang guided in a whisper of air. Around him, the air swirled, gathering until a caress swept over the ledge, carrying Aang and Samir into the sky.

Azula inhaled sharply, eyes sharp as she watched. Aang and Samir floated on air currents, drifting through the air, held by Aang's continuing motions, directed by his hands.

"Think of the sky, Samir," Aang said softly, voice as warm as Agni shining down from above. "Think of the clouds that are there forever, always moving and always returning; think of the sky's eternity. Nothing in the world is as eternal as the sky, which is there always, no matter where you are and from where you look. It isn't temporary like the earth and ocean, and it doesn't burn itself out like flames; the sky is forever, the only constant of the world. In the sky is Heaven, the source of all our striving. Now feel it; feel the winds; feel the air; feel its presence. Now hear it; hear its song; hear its tune; hear the world come alive, carried by the winds. Become part of all of it; be Air, letting its energy flow through you and embrace the harmony in your soul. Know freedom and understand it; be free. Be a Child of Air; be a sky-walker."

Suddenly, a massive sphere of Air spun around Aang and Samir, and Azula watched, mesmerized, as Aang stood to his feet, held afloat by the power of his airbending, and Samir's eyes were shut, and unlike earlier, there was no distractions; there were no twitching or exhausted sighs or whines to play. Instead, there was an indescribable, intensive peace on Samir's youthful, innocent face; it was the freedom that Azula had read about in the library's annals; it was the freedom that Aang referenced so often; it was the freedom that Azula had striven for but failed to attain.

Because she was not from Air nor of Air.

However, Azula found that she felt no envy for Samir's achievement, only satisfied joy that Air's revival had begun.

Aang drifted back, watching Samir. "Feel it around you, Samir. Then feel it inside you. Connect to it. It's yours—it's all yours."

Azula did not notice anything different, but when Aang shuddered, gasping with an amazed croak, she knew that Samir had accomplished it—somehow. She had not seen Aang look so relieved since he had seen Appa after he had awoken from his coma after Ba Sing Se's murder. He kneeled in front of Samir, hands reaching out slowly but gently, caressing her arms. The tears in Aang's gray eyes were vivid even from the distant, and Azula watched the tears spill down his cheeks, lost in the hairs of his beard.

"Keep doing it," he whispered. "You have it; you are it. Touch what I touch, even if it hurts or you're scared. You have to reach out, okay?"

Samir did not respond, but Azula stepped closer in concern when Aang inhaled deeply, eyes falling shut with gentle force but, paradoxically, his face became harder than stone, becoming terrifyingly blank, so similar to The Avatar State when the lifetimes-powered version of him had stared into her soul after he murdered Ba Sing Se—when she had carried Toph briefly to reprieve her of her vision. The air came alive, swirling around in a show of power, reaching down to Azula and caressing her briefly before it surged and blew into Aang's sphere of air. The air spun so fast that all she could see was a magnificent blur, outlined by the colors of Aang's vivid garments.

"Touch it, Samir!" Aang encouraged inside the sphere. "Go along on the ride!"

Then it was gone. Aang exhaled slowly as he released Samir, reaching down to catch her before she collapsed.

Aang floated down and stood next to her, still holding Samir. Azula stared down at Samir's unconscious face. "Is she alright?" she asked quietly.

"She will be," Aang assured; he looked overjoyed, face bursting with overwhelming vitality that she never conceived him capable of—at least not since learning of his identity as The Avatar. "Can you feel it?"

"No."

Normally, such a fact would have dismayed Aang, but he only grinned, looking so beautiful that she could only stare at him, deprived temporarily of utterance. "It's worked! Her well is building with her own energy! It's there! It's Air!"

Azula smiled, feeling her spirits rise in transcendence with his own; she knew it was a monumental, historical moment for the world, but she only cared that it was a monumental, historical moment for Aang. "Air's rebirth has begun."

Aang seemed to vibrate with endless energy, mimicking Samir's vigor during play. "She's an Airbender!" Suddenly, he shifted Samir's weight, and one of his hands cradled Azula's face before she could react; his gray eyes shone with wonder and awe, and a weight settled in her throat, provoked by the ancient joy emanating off him. "Can you believe it? It's happening!"

She nodded, feeling overwhelmed in the best of ways by his immense enthusiasm. "Truly, it is."

The brilliance in Aang's eyes brightened with tears. "I have waited so long for this to happen."

Azula smiled. "The wait is over, Aang. It is here—finally."

"And sharing it with you is somehow right. You understand better than anyone else but maybe Pathik and Bumi."

She did not wish to explore the sensations and instincts his words—along with the feel of his steady, warm hand on her cheek, fingers curling into her hair—provoked, so she smirked. "I am better company than them, and I am a more fluent, captivating conversationalist."

Aang laughed, and she had feared that she would not hear such delight in his voice since Ba Sing Se for a long time. "You are."

Azula found the powerful emotion in his face daunting, and she looked down at Samir's peaceful face. "How long will she be in slumber?"

"Nothing like me after Ba Sing Se," Aang disclosed, confident, and she was surprised—and relieved—when he mentioned Ba Sing Se without that familiar soul-crushing guilt and regret that poisoned the air. "It shouldn't be too much longer. She's an Airbender, but her body is adjusting to the onslaught of energy in her chi that she's building herself; she was so used to have such a weak connection that a stronger connection is something that she has to adjust to. She's both from Air and of Air." Aang crushed Samir against him, burying her into his chest. "She's made me so happy."

"No Mother of Air needed," she whispered, unsure why she observed the obvious.

Aang glanced at her; his gray eyes were suddenly unreadable, even to her. "Not this time."

"Forgive me," Azula said, feeling his irritation prickle against her flesh; she remembered his intense vehemence that he was unwilling to give up on her becoming the Mother of Air. "This is about Air's revival and Samir's maturation."

Before he could reply, Samir grunted and shifted in Aang's arm; his attention swiveled to Samir, whose gray eyes opened, meeting another pair of gray eyes.

Samir blinked several times and flexed her fingers. "I feel different," she admitted shyly, looking down at her hands. "Am I an Airbender?"

Aang beamed like Agni himself. "You are. Search inside and feel the connection that's there now."

Azula watched as Samir's eyes squeezed shut, forehead scrunching contorted in concentration before her eyes popped open and her face contorted in discomfort. Realizing what was about to happen, Samir turned away from Aang—but turned toward Azula at the same time, releasing a mighty sneeze.

ACHOO!

The gust of wind exploded against Azula's face, making her take a step back, balance temporarily hindered; then a gentle breeze swayed through her long hair.

Aang laughed. "See? An Airbender!"

"Certainly," Azula concurred in amusement, adjusting her hair with swift, experienced fingers.

Samir grinned, the gaps in her teeth prominent, not at all apologetic about sneezing on her. "I'm an Airbender!" she screamed in excitement. "Can you believe it? I'm an Airbender! An Airbender!" She wiggled out of Aang's arms and shrieked in joy before dashing to the ledge and, without hesitation, leaped off. Azula inhaled sharply and leaped after her, jettisons of flames directing her forward. But Aang zoomed past her, almost smacking her into the mountainside with the force of his air currents.

Aang and Samir's laughter reached her through the roaring winds, and she hovered for several moments, watching as Aang caught Samir and created a tornado, atop which he stood, holding Samir; he blazed in a new direction, traveling the mountainside. She gazed in amazement as Aang then jumped across the mountain, throwing Samir into the air, sailing over the top of the crevices with shrieks of delight, and catching her on the other side of the mountain.

"Airbenders," she murmured with a shake of her head, amused despite herself. She had once thought Firebenders were the most dangerous benders, but clearly, Airbenders lacked any sense of preservation.

Azula tried desperately not to think of Sozin's astonishing success in slaughtering Air.

She thrust herself back to the ledge of the Air Temple and continued watching the joy provided by the beginning of Air's revival. The echo of Aang and Samir's combined elated laughter provided her more accuracy to their location than her vision, but she saw flashes. Aang seemed to be jumping everywhere, leaping from mountain to mountain, and he was so fast—a brilliant, colorful blur to her perception.

He was celebrating the obvious.

For the first time in over a century, a true Airbender, one who was not The Avatar, walked the world and breezed through the air with instinctive joy.

"They're going to wake the world more than Agni does with all their laughing and yelling."

Azula cursed silently when she realized that Toph stood next to her; she had been so absorbed in Aang and Samir and the historical moment in front of her that someone as abrasive and loud as Toph snuck up on her.

She was slipping.

"I suppose so," she said. "Pathik will need to make fruit pies to celebrate."

"He's already ahead of you," Toph assured with a snort. "I bet Twinkletoes will eat all of them. Maybe he'll leave a single one for Hitchhiker, but that's it."

Azula smirked. "He will leave several for me if he knows what is good for him."

"I've never heard him like this," Toph said after several moments, and Azula knew Toph heard Aang's laughter more clearly than she did. "I never realized how alone he was—how alone he felt."

"It is sobering," Azula agreed. "I wonder if the old Air Nomads feel this moment from the Gardens; I wonder if they know that Air's rebirth has begun."

Toph shrugged and flicked a pebble off the ledge with her toes. "Twinkletoes would know that better than we would. How much could the Dead actually know, anyway?"

Azula remembered Air's wisdom. "I suspect the Dead know much more than we do—and will always."

"Really? You don't think that the Dead just stop?"

"It is the Gardens," she said simply. "There are no worries nor stresses. You can share conversation for eternity, telling the stories you always wished to tell; you can speak with those who lived so long ago and learn accurately of the world that was. Our lives stop, but Life does not stop, and there is so much to discover. The Dead know this and rightfully take advantage."

Toph's brows rose unevenly. "You sound like Twinkletoes."

"There is much to admire about Air's wisdom."

"At least you sound considering about it all rather than adamant."

Azula laughed slightly. "I thought you, Earthbender you are, would appreciate adamance."

Toph shuffled her feet. "Yeah, but Twinkletoes' adamance is scary."

"It is," she acknowledged. "He attacked me on Ember Island- "

"As he should have," Toph mumbled.

"- when I questioned Air's perfection. It was brief, but I remember the adamance; it impressed me and disappointed me in equal measure. It made me question briefly the trust I had placed in him."

Toph kicked a stone off the ledge with a lot more force than necessary. "That's what guys do, and he's a guy just like any other. He'll impress you before he disappoints you. Then you lose trust in him because he's an idiot."

Her brows rose. "Am I not the only one who has found intrigue in a man?"

"A boy," Toph scoffed, face twisting in displeasure—and a hint of sorrow. "He's not a man."

"I am not talking about Aang."

"Neither am I."

"Now I find intrigue in your intrigue- "

"I'm really not talking about this."

"You raised the subject."

"Nope," Toph said, voice too chipper to be authentic. "I'm focused on you. I'm watching you watching Twinkletoes."

Azula smirked. "Incorrect. You are watching me watching Aang watching Samir."

"How's Hitchhiker doing, anyway? Did she take to airbending like Twinkletoes took to all the elements but Earth?"

"She is an Airbender," Azula confirmed, nodding her head. "But she will never be prodigious or the like; she is average or less than so. Her connection will never be ultimate like Aang's. It is clear to see."

Toph nodded. "Probably a good thing. It will help Twinkletoes' with those impossible expectations of his."

"She is a joy, and Aang knows it. He delights in her presence just as I do, and that is without her being from Air—and now of Air."

"But now she's an Airbender; there's another one in the world."

"I thought the laughter and joy in the air would have notified you," she drawled.

Toph grinned. "Unlike you, I don't make assumptions."

Azula glanced at her, the tone of Toph's voice a signal of the truth. "You know?"

The grin widened, becoming obnoxious. "Know what?"

"About my nomination."

Toph shrugged. "Twinkletoes may have mentioned a few things. Don't worry—I'm more on your side than not."

Azula rolled her eyes. "Very reassuring."

"It's supposed to be. You're a lot less psycho than I thought you were."

"Then will you change my epithet?"

Toph grinned. "I'm definitely not now."

"Of course," she realized with an unsurprised sigh.

"I mean, Lightning Psycho's not that bad. I could have called you Snatch Whisperer or something because that totally works."

"I believe that would suffice more for Aang."

Toph stood straighter, milky eyes triumphant. "Nope. It's all you. Because you whisper down to your snatch and tell it strategy, what to do and how to trap Twinkletoes or whatever."

Azula smirked. "Perhaps I should indulge in my 'talent' and whisper to your snatch to learn its secrets—like the identity of the 'boy' who slighted you."

Toph huffed, crossing her arms. "Well played."

"Always."

Silence.

"You watch Twinkletoes a lot," Toph said suddenly. "It surprises me."

Azula glanced at her. "Why?"

"Because I can't figure out why you watch him. It's not as simple as you're attracted to him."

"I once loved the moment," Azula divulged. "The moment was everything to me, for after the moment ended, I was lost always, consumed by the haunting fear and regret. But I have matured past that and gone in a different direction. I shall always appreciate the moment, but I look past the moment. In the moment, I am attracted to Aang. But after the moment, there is more—deep fondness. I watch him so I can reflect and be honest." Azula's hands curled slightly. "I memorize him while I can. We all have limited time. I want to know him as well as I can—while I still can."

Toph snorted. "I hate to break it to you- "

"I doubt it."

"- but you nominated yourself for Mother of Air, which makes your life very important to Twinkletoes. You're not going to leave him that easily."

"I love him," she admitted after several moments; it was what her mastered chakras revealed. She had never admitted it aloud, but somehow, it seemed fitting that she divulged the truth to Toph first.

Truly, she was slipping.

Toph smirked. "You sure like 'em young."

Azula kept her gaze on Aang in the distance; it looked like he was leaping from the peaks of one of the mountains and becoming a brilliant blur of color as he spun around. It was clear that he was performing for Samir, acting as the boy he so desperately wished to be. "He is 120 years old."

"A technicality," Toph dismissed. "You've experienced three more years than he has if not more. You may have another year on him than that to make it closer to four years. I still don't even know when his birthday actually is."

"I knew always I would marry," she divulged, unsure why she spoke of such a subject with Toph. "Either I would marry to increase my lineage's prestige or to atone for my lineage's sins."

Toph snorted. "Seems like you're doing both."

"I never imagined him, but now I imagine no one else."

"If you're looking for feedback or something, that's something you'd have better luck saying to Sugar Queen and getting her advice on how to woo Twinkletoes."

Azula glanced at her, ignoring the quip about the Water Tribes peasant-bitch—or Katara. "And you? Is that what happened? Did the 'boy' who slighted you fail to woo you properly? It was likely a nobleman in Omashu, yes? Forgive me—nobleboy. He caught your feet but not your heart."

Toph glowered at her. "Bitch," she mumbled.

"Bitch or whore?" she drawled. "I thought Earthbenders were consistent."

"Consider this consistent," Toph murmured, gripping her arm, fingers strong and insistent. "If you break his heart, or if you do anything to ruin his revival of Air, I will break you."

"His heart is already broken," Azula corrected softly. "Maybe now it can beat again. Air's revival has begun."

"Semantics ain't going to save you, Lightning Psycho. I swear on The Avatar that I will kill you if you break his heart, Mother of Air nomination be damned."

Azula stared at Toph, even though it made no difference. "Good. If I ruin Aang or Air, I deserve the fate of Avatar Kuruk's beloved."

"But your legend won't be a tragedy; it will be a warning. I'll throw you to the Face Stealer myself."

She smiled slightly and patted Toph's hand gripping her arm before pulling it off. "You are a good friend, Toph; you care deeply. I commend your devotion to him."

Toph looked displeased. "I can't tell if you're lying or not."

Azula frowned, glancing at her. "It is to him I must prove myself, not you."

"Careful there, Lightning Psycho," Toph warned, wagging a dirty finger in her direction. "I like you a lot—I can admit that—but I need to make sure that your dad's arm is no longer sticking out of your ass."

"Very benevolent of you," she drawled.

Toph nodded, looking proud before it faded. "But I'm glad you love him because you should love him; there's a lot to love about him." Her milky eyes became gray with sadness. "He should love himself because he's such an amazing guy, but he doesn't love himself; he hates himself and thinks he should have never been born."

Azula remembered Aang's vicious vehemence about 'that boy,' the very boy he was once—the boy he despised but yearned desperately to be. "We will love him when he cannot love himself."

"Maybe you really do love him," Toph whispered, sniffing and harshly wiped her eyes.

"My mother loves my father," she whispered back. "She forgives him for almost everything he has done. She cannot forgive what he did to Zuko and I, but when it comes to her, to the things he inflicted against her, she forgives him. I forgive Aang for Ba Sing Se, for what he subjected my eyes to, to the terror and dread that ravished me during those moments that felt like a lifetime. I am more like my mother than I ever realized. We look almost identical, but my mimicry of her persists in many other ways. She loves a man capable of great, terrible cruelty, and I love a man capable of great, terrible cruelty. I know how much love Aang feels, and I know how great he is, and because I know those things, I forgive him. I never understood why my mother forgives my father, but I think I understand now. Somehow, she knew a man that I never did; she saw Ozai while I only ever saw Father. Perhaps she knows how much love my father feels and how great he is, and that is why she forgives him for the things he inflicted against her."

"But not when it comes to her children. What about you?"

"I have no children."

Toph snorted. "You already act like you're Hitchhiker's mom. So, if Twinkletoes hurt her like your dad hurt you and Sparky, what would you do?"

Azula sighed, knowing it was true, though she did not want to admit it aloud. "I would shoot lightning at him, likely."

"You'd shoot lightning at him for looking at you wrong," Toph dismissed. "I mean, would you forgive him if he hurt Samir?"

"If he wounded her like Father wounded Zuko and I, no."

"You really are like your mom."

"Yes."

"Maybe she's not so bad."

Azula glanced at her, remembering Toph's words about her own family. "Perhaps the same could be said of your mother- "

"I'm not talking about that."

"Now you sound like Aang."

Toph gasped in outrage. "You take that back! I am nothing like Twinkletoes!"

"An observation," she dismissed, smirking. "Perhaps an accurate one; perhaps not."

"You know, I'd shove you off the ledge right now if I knew Twinkletoes wouldn't care. Why do you get all the special benefits?"

Azula smiled. "I do not question it; I enjoy it."

Toph was quiet for several moments, but when she spoke, her voice shook. "I still think about what he did to Ba Sing Se, and he didn't harm you or me when it would have been the easiest thing in the world to kill us like he did everyone else. That alone tells me how serious he is about you, but it also tells me that I still have a chance to get close to him again. But it's so much more. Somehow, it was because he loved both of us that we survived Ba Sing Se, but it doesn't feel that way. I know how much love he feels, but I can't get my mind around the fact that he, who has so much love to give, is capable of that. He murdered Ba Sing Se out of hatred; there was no love in him then."

She recalled Air's wisdom and her own experiences. "Love is born of passion, but hatred's source is passion, as well. With great capacity to love comes great capacity to hate."

Toph's face twisted. "I'm going to have to call badgermole shit on that. I don't think your dad was ever all that loving."

Azula felt heavy. "As I said, my mother would argue differently—and fiercely. She adored my father, and she still does. Neither of us have ever known my father, not truly. I have known him as Father, and you have known him as Enemy, but my mother has known him as Ozai. My mother has an insight into him that we do not."

"I still think he's a fucker who should get eaten by a badgermole or something. Maybe a dragon—I'm sure there's irony in there somewhere."

"You should," she commended. "My father once loved, but now he hates. We all lose ourselves to hatred at one point or another, and my father lost himself to his hatred a long time ago, and he chooses not to find himself again."

Toph's swallow was audible. "Do you think Twinkletoes will turn out the same way? I mean, your dad did nothing like Ba Sing Se. He would have if Twinkletoes didn't stop him during Sozin's Comet, but he didn't actually get the chance. But Twinkletoes had the chance and took it, and I think he did a better job at it than your dad ever could."

Azula nodded. "He did. I do not know the outcome of Ba Sing Se's murder, but I suspect the outcome. But unlike my father, Aang has already found himself again; he was unconscious for so long because he realized the horror of what he did."

"Has he told you what he saw besides Gyatso?"

"No. And if he never tells me, that is acceptable. There are some things—some secrets—that must die with each of us, but it is up to us to discern what should be shared and what should be kept." Azula smirked. "But if he attempts something like that again, I will shoot lightning at him."

Toph snorted. "Good luck with that. Twinkletoes was shitting power in Ba Sing Se. Lightning would probably only tickle him."

"Perhaps my snatch could whisper to his ire, soothing him."

"Or you could just lay one on him. I bet his face would get so red if you kissed him like that."

"Perhaps. I am unsure it would, though."

"It would," Toph assured, grinning confidently.

Azula frowned in consideration. "You could not see it."

"You could tell me about it."

"I would rather not."

Toph's eyes widened in awe. "Are you shy?"

"No."

"That's what someone shy would say."

Azula smirked. "Someone shy would not answer the question."

Toph nodded sagely. "Good point. Let's ask Twinkletoes when he gets back."

Suddenly, Aang landed on the ledge in a blur with Samir in his arms, and he and Samir's faces were both red with exertion, eyes alight with joyful bliss; the smile on his face was mesmerizing.

"Ask me what when I get back?" he asked, putting Samir down.

Toph punched his arm. "Would your face get red if- "

"If you traveled from here to the Fire Nation by yourself without Appa?" she interrupted. "It might be prudent to give a message to Zuko and the others after this long gap."

Toph huffed in displeasure but said nothing while Aang seemed to consider it for a moment before he shook his head. "No. That trip would take too long. I don't think we'll be staying here much longer."

Samir's eyes widened. "We're leaving?"

"Not yet," Aang replied quickly. "But we will."

Azula nodded. "We need to rendezvous with them and update them."

"If you miss your mom, you should say so," he said gently.

Azula found that she did miss Mother, particularly after mastering her chakras and realizing the truth about Mother and herself. "I do, but that is not the reason."

"Do Lightning Psycho and her mom really look a lot alike, Twinkletoes?" Toph demanded, crossing her arms.

"Yes."

"We look like we could be sisters," Azula muttered.

Aang grinned. "It's not because she looks young; you just look old," he teased.

Azula glared at him. "Your tongue is sharp, Avatar. You must be careful that I do not mistake it as sharp enough to take the strength of a blade."

He only shrugged. "Then you'll be without hearing my voice- "

"That is not the loss you think it is."

"Liar."

Azula smirked. "The best. Toph will verify it."

Toph punched her arm. "No, I won't."

"Do I lie when I tell you that Pathik should have fruit pies- "

Aang blurred past them, bolting into the temple like lightning itself, and Samir ran after him with a hoot of excitement; she was noticeably quicker than she was previously.

"Joy kill," Toph mumbled. "I bet you're secretly shy."

Azula smirked. "Some secrets should die with me and some with you."

"I don't have any secrets worth dying for."

"What of the 'boy' who intrigued your notice?"

Toph glanced at her, startled, face flushing, before she marched resolutely into the temple. "I think I'll try a fruit pie again."

Azula shook her head and looked out over the world, marveling at the vitality that permeated the air; it was new and fresh, invigorating. She could not imagine how it felt for Aang, an actual Airbender. Air's rebirth had begun, and Azula planned on eternizing her presence for its completion.

She stared at the gusts of wind that cradled the temple and thought of the old Air Nomads. "I hope you are proud of him," she whispered. "He has made many mistakes, but you should be proud of him."

The air lapped at her gently in answer, the caress similar to Aang's hand on her cheek.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The sky was serene in its tranquility, its eternal quality and nature. It possessed a beauty impossible to describe, and Azula almost did not want to trouble it with the swift lightning she yearned to shoot. Ever since mastering her chakras, she had refrained from attempting to shoot lightning, unsure if she was ready—even though she knew she was. It had been almost nine years since she fired lightning, felt its delicious energy surge in her chi in mastery. The Agni Kai against Zuko all those years ago was the last time she fired lightning—when she had almost killed Zuko. Her last lightning strike was against the Water Tribes peasant-bitch—Katara—before she was chained forever.

However, after watching the peace on Samir and Aang's faces when describing Air, specifically after Samir became an Airbender, she yearned for that same peace, and she wondered if lightning could help her achieve it. After all, if she could shoot lightning, she was at peace—she was free, which meant Air. And she was beginning to love Air with its freedom and wisdom; she wanted it for herself, knowing it was the only way she could become who she was meant to be—who she wanted to be. Whether that was the Mother of Air or not, she wanted that freedom and peace. Though she had mastered her chakras, she had yet to take the final step.

Shooting lightning would be different than all her previous efforts; rather than emptying herself of everything that she was to force a brief tranquility manifested by nothingness, she would be in harmony with all facets of herself. It was exhilarating to consider how different lightning would be with her mastered chakras; it was exhilarating to try something new that still connected intimately to her nature as a Firebender, an heir of Sozin and Kai.

Her familiar position on the ledge comforted her in its steady placement, rooting her in place, but her arms would not wind in the familiar motion that was no longer familiar; it felt foreign. She only stared out at Agni's diminishing light.

"If you jump, I'll catch you."

Azula rolled her eyes as Aang came to stand next to her. "I received that impression from your exploits with Samir earlier."

Aang grinned; he looked lighter and freer since he had manifested airbending within Samir; he resembled more how he appeared on Ember Island during the vacation—for now. It relieved her, though it was obvious he carried the weight of his extensive crime in Ba Sing Se—and Air's infinite loss. She basked in it, cherishing his resemblance to that man on Ember Island—because she knew it would not last. She knew his newfound—re-found—relief would disappear in the coming days, too burdened all the pressures and horrors he faced. "I think that was the most fun I've had in forever."

She believed him, though she raised a brow. "Volleyball on Ember Island was not fun?"

"That was fun," he defended. "But it was a different kind of fun. It was a fun that didn't matter; it was a very fun distraction. This was a fun integration."

"I understand," she said, waving him off. "Would you consider putting a volleyball court in the Air Temples? It could be next to the airball court."

Aang frowned. "Why?"

Azula smirked. "Airbenders would be very good at volleyball. It would be an excellent game to enhance an Airbender's training."

"There wouldn't be sand- "

"That is no matter," she dismissed. "The nature of the game remains the same, and I believe Airbenders can elevate the splendor of volleyball. It will be a sight to see."

Aang stared at her, and his gray eyes were unreadable, even to her. "And you would play?"

Realizing that he was thinking of her nomination for Mother of Air, she shrugged one shoulder intentionally. "What chance do I stand against an Airbender?"

His lips twitched. "A very good chance."

"You might need a surplus of additional nets," Azula warned in amusement. "I have a habit of setting nets on fire."

"You only set two on fire on Ember Island," he pointed out, confused.

She leaned closer slightly, aware of how close his body was; he emanated a delicious warmth and sense of power, which enticed her senses and spirit. "But here, in the Air Temples, I am free." She locked her gaze onto his—golden eyes versus gray eyes. "I can be unrestrained and do as I genuinely yearn to and wish."

Aang stared at her for several long moments, gray eyes roaming her face, including her lips, before looking away. "And what you want to do is play volleyball?" he asked, voice soft.

Azula had no idea if he truly meant volleyball or if volleyball had morphed into a metaphor for being the Mother of Air; he was a tremendous mystery, despite her intelligent judgment and experience in trying to comprehend him. "Play is fun and delightful," she confessed, "but I do not merely want to play; I want to participate in and associate with something greater than myself, no matter how great I am. I want to be part of something more that accomplishes the unthinkable in the face of overwhelming odds to achieve triumph and victory—to create a lasting memory that can never be forgotten or defaced."

By the look on his face, she knew she had said something right, and he hummed as he overlooked the valley below the temple—but he said nothing in response.

Silence.

Unlike silences with Father, silences with Aang were always comfortable and pleasant; there was a peace and freedom she felt standing next to him, overlooking the valley, which was bathed in Agni's light, countless colors and energies fermenting the world. Nothing needed to be said; there was only contentment. There was no impulse to analyze everything she had said in fear she had miscalculated or insulted or angered him; there was no impulse to kneel, body unnaturally still, and vow to please him with victories and accomplishments; there was no impulse to prepare to defend herself with fire if he became enraged; there was no impulse to empty herself of all emotion, and everything that she was, to become satisfactory in his gaze.

There was no impulse but to stand next to him and listen to the world below, carried by the light gusts of wind.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked finally, still staring down at the valley.

"I was debating whether to attempt to fire lightning or not," she confessed.

Aang's eyes lit up in understanding as he looked at her. "It's been a long time for you. Why haven't you yet? You mastered your chakras over a week ago."

Azula felt shame. "I am unsure. I cannot bring myself to do it. I do not know why."

"What does the lightning represent?"

"Power."

"What does Power represent?"

She thought of Father. "Coercion."

"What does it also represent?"

Azula blinked. "Respect- "

Aang laughed, and it was genuine. "No. What is Power's nature? It's coercive but also what?"

She thought back to the many tomes of Air's wisdom she had absorbed in her long stay at the temple, but there was no answer she could remember or discern. "I do not know."

His gray eyes sparkled. "It's liberation. There is power over—coercion—and power for—liberation."

She stared at him, amazed at his understanding; she descended from a lineage that worshipped Power, but she had never learned anything approaching such wisdom. "Where did you learn that?"

When the familiar flash of sadness, behind which lurked bitterness, resentment, and hatred, seeped into his face, she knew the answer before he spoke. "Gyatso."

Azula quickly sought to erase that darkness from his face. "Thus, lightning has been represented to me as coercive rather than liberation; I must change my perspective."

Aang's gaze cleared as he nodded. "Lightning can be both and is both, but you must decide which you want it to be. From what source will you draw the energy? From which source of Power will you manifest lightning? Will it come from a place of coercion or liberation?"

"It used to be coercion," Azula observed, the memories playing in her mind. "I am unsure I know how to draw it from liberation."

"You'll get it," he encouraged.

"Perhaps you must be the teacher now," she commented idly. "You can fire lightning. Perhaps you can show me- "

Although, she was unsure he could since Ba Sing Se, for he had not attempted it.

"Not here," he said immediately, something flashing over his face. "I don't firebend at any of the Air Temples. I spare the temples from that horror—the same horror that consumed it and my race."

Azula blinked. "Even after the Great War?" she asked in disbelief. "I have seen your firebending and experienced it. You have made powerful strides in your mastery."

"I went into the valley below the temple and trained," he clarified, looking at the world before them. "I only use airbending in the Air Temples after having restored them—as it should be."

She thought that was likely extensively lonely and agonizing for him, whose nature it was to wield and harmonize with all the Elements rather than diminish his essence to a single one, no matter how much he adored it. However, she recalled his waterbending when she, Samir, and Toph were in the fountain, but she decided not to raise that point of fact with him; perhaps he had not realized he was breaking his unspoken rule due to the fun he had—and the freedom he felt to express himself. But she swiftly realized she had used firebending many times in the Eastern Temple since her arrival. After several moments, she elected for truth.

"I have broken that unspoken rule."

Aang nodded, not reacting in the slightest. "I know."

Her brows pinched. "You are not angry?"

"I'm always angry."

That was a mournful statement, but she pressed on: "You never said anything."

He looked tired. "I couldn't deny that to you."

The fact he never said anything and understood how agonizing it would have been for her to deny herself her essence made her feel more fondness and affection for him. "Thank you."

Aang's lips stretched. "Shoot lightning. Go on and try it. I trust you won't shoot it at me," he jested, a laugh escaping him.

Azula did not feel much amusement at the reminder of, in her estimation, her most monstrous crime—or second most monstrous after shooting her own brother, though that might be labeled as more Zuko's fault than her own. "Can you show me?"

He frowned. "I don't use firebending on the temple grounds."

"Then take me to the valley," she said, hating how her voice sounded so pleading—but she needed to see! "Show me."

When he said nothing, she realized his hesitation.

"You are not calm enough to shoot lightning since Ba Sing Se and since Samir, who is not a pure Air Nomad," Azula breathed. "You feel no peace."

However, instead of admitting it, to her surprise, Aang's eyes shut briefly as he turned away from her; she had no idea what he was doing, but then his arms performed that familiar motion. Her eyes widened in surprise, wondering why he dared break his unspoken rule, but before she could say anything, his gray eyes snapped open. In a flash, a massive stream of lightning erupted from his fingertips and into the sky; the blurred motion of his arms looked shockingly like Father's.

Azula stared out at the vanishing lightning, amazed that he had achieved peace so swiftly. "Airbender," she recalled quietly, almost envious. She had been trying to find the peace to shoot lightning during her almost year of freedom since her cell, and it resulted in her needing to master her chakras. However, Aang was capable of shooting lightning, even after murdering Ba Sing Se and falling into semi-madness, after only a few moments of concentration—without mastering his chakras.

He turned to her, eyes alight with something. "I'm at peace," he defended, voice wavering, and she understood.

Aang had fired lightning to convince himself that he was of sound mind and reason, manifesting a brief serenity, as Air had taught him since he was a child, long enough to permit him to fire lightning.

She decided not to fight him, choosing to struggle with that deception when she helped him master his chakras. "Impressive. However, I still do not know how to draw it from liberation- "

His gray eyes were rooted on her face with an ancient intensity. "Yes, you do. Follow your instinct, not your indoctrination."

His assurance in her capability soothed her anxious worries—so much the opposite of Father!—as her eyes fluttered shut, the energy in her body buzzing and awaiting her command. Her breathing centered, her fingers curled, arching at the ends, her wrist straightened, strong in its stability, and her arms followed the movements of her memory. However, as the arc of her circle descended, the energy felt different from her memory; she felt different from what her memory informed her she should feel. Before, she always felt empty, but now, she felt an overwhelming rise in her energy, an awakening that energized her spirit; rather than a forced harmony through emptiness and nothingness, her harmony now had its source in the accepted facets of herself—all parts of who she was and yearned to be.

Azula's eyes snapped open as her fingers from each hand clashed together; the lightning exploded out of her fingertips in a brilliant flash of color and power, vanishing in the distance across what seemed like the length of the world.

She felt alive.

The sudden mist in her eyes thickened quickly, producing droplets of tears that slid past her eyelashes and down her cheeks, and with each tear that fell, the coercive methods once mastered diminished more and more to make way for the shining liberation. When she turned and looked at Aang, it was to see him watching her with a proud smile.

"I knew you could do it," he commended, gray eyes teeming with kind regard. "Good job, Azula."

There was an overwhelming yearning to touch him, to embrace him, to thank him, but she swallowed and nodded, feeling shaken but free. "Thank you, Aang."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Air Temples of the Air Nomads were all about freedom, becoming one with the wind, and isolating from the world below. There was peace at each temple, a rarity in the Four Nations, and maybe that was why he loved the Air Temples; maybe it was because he was born to the Air Nomads in this life. He honestly didn't know, and he honestly didn't care; he was content to feel the semblance of peace that he hadn't felt since before he was told that he was The Avatar over a century ago.

"So, I just have to go to sleep, and if he comes, you'll stop him?" Samir asked quietly, voice a whisper, pulling his attention to her. Her own gray eyes peered up at him, the vulnerability therein provoking something inside him.

Aang nodded, his features softening into something tender; he hadn't known he was capable of such an expression anymore. "Because you're an Airbender, I think he'll come."

It was a malicious strategy—giving him a taste of Air's revival before taking it away.

"But you'll stay with me?" she asked desperately. "Right?"

"Of course," he assured. "And it won't only be me. Azula will help. But I'm going to protect you always." Aang smiled gently down at Samir's fatigued face. "I promise that you will have a good night's sleep."

Samir smiled tiredly, her eyes falling shut. "Thank you, Aang." She nestled into the bed, and Aang stepped over to the windowsill, observing life below.

The valley was bathed in a majestic golden color from Agni's setting light, and the Eastern Air Temple overlooked everything. The trees below were little specks in the distance and the sky protectively dwelled over the ravine.

He had been born in this temple, and although he held no memories of his birth, he remembered the first time he traveled to the Eastern Air Temple with all the other kids of the Southern Temple to be placed under Mother Superior Lio's care. She had taught each of them how to bond with a sky bison, citing that by feeding an apple, you drew the sky bison's attention, and when picking your animal companion, a tug in your soul would decide which baby would bond with you in an ancient ceremony.

Aang had, indeed, felt a fierce connection with one of the baby sky bison from the moment when their eyes met. He could still remember it; as if he had been in a trance, he had plucked an apple from Lio's basket and approached the sky bison. It had been strange because the baby had been away from the others, waiting for him, staring at Aang with the same glazed eyes. Aang had held out the apple and immediately, the sky bison slurped it out of his tiny hand, tongue wetting his skin. "Appa," he had breathed out, and then for some reason, they had both begun to weep, clutching each other like long, lost friends.

Now, looking back at those events with a mature mind, after much consideration, Aang firmly believed that The Avatar has an animal companion in all his lifetimes. He had Appa; Roku had Fang; he felt certain that Kyoshi was bonded to a badgermole; and he knew intrinsically that Kuruk had a polar dog as an animal companion for his reign of over half a millennium as Avatar.

What if the Avatar bonded with an animal throughout all his lifetimes, tying himself to a loyal friend who would never betray him as a human always could? He knew it was true instantly upon the thought. He knew the tradition hadn't started with Wan, but it started eons ago, in either the first or second Avatar Cycle.

It made sense.

When Aang first saw Appa's eyes, he remembered the familiar sensation consuming him in those moments; it tied him back with all his past lives, who had done the same thing once in each of his lifetimes. It wasn't that he knew Appa's eyes because he had seen them before; it was rather the bonding process, connected and solidified through the meeting of the eyes that was familiar. It was that the entire process was familiar at a similar age with the different creatures of the Four Elements; he had bonded with a sky bison before; he had bonded with a polar dog before; he had bonded with a badgermole before; and he had bonded with a dragon before.

Appa had stared at him when they bonded as Fang stared at Roku as they bonded.

When Appa was stolen by the Sandbenders in the Si Wong Desert, Aang had never experienced such overwhelming rage, not even when he found out that he was the Last Airbender—until that rage became so much worse when the Great War was over as he was forced to face the true depths of his race's slaughter. When he had found Appa missing during those tumultuous days in the Si Wong Desert, he had felt blistering fury below the surface that wasn't his own, yet it had been at the same time. All of his past lives had been angry, he himself was angry, and if he was being honest with himself, he had truly wanted to go on a rampage; he had yearned to kill everyone in sight, hunt down the Sandbenders and make them suffer as they had forced him to suffer when they stole Appa. His soul had been cracked and the only remedy for it was for Appa to return to his rightful place by his side, and his past lives were settled when Appa returned to him, too.

When Appa was returned, from Zuko's doing he later learned, he had wept for hours, and it hadn't been only him weeping in relief; it was Roku, Kyoshi, Kuruk, Yangchen, Jinzhai, and all those who came before him, for each of them were in agony that his best friend was gone, for their best friends in their reigns could have had a similar fate. His soul had begun to mend, to heal thank to the presence of his best friend. While he had stuffed down his grief after the couple, Than and Ying, had given birth to their child, Hope, he had still been devastated and had trouble looking at his own hands, hands that were tattooed with arrows just like Appa's arrow on his fur. For weeks, he had been broken, the rift growing with each passing day, and just when it had all seemed eternally hopeless, Appa escaped from Lake Laogai, from the duplicitous Long Feng, and Aang healed; the events had scarred him, for he was now always wary of others with Appa.

And when Appa was struck down in Ba Sing Se, Aang went on a divine, blood-soaked rampage, fulfilling the instincts he once denied himself, and he hadn't cared. He had slaughtered Kuei, the Council of Five, most of the Dai Li, and everyone in Ba Sing Se as if they were helpless children. Honestly, there was a chasm in his heart that had enjoyed it. Maybe it had been truly Kyoshi who enjoyed it, but it didn't actually matter. In essence, he was Kyoshi, so he did, in fact, enjoy it—because it was in the moment, and it felt good to expel that rage from the well of infinite wrath the existed within him.

When he had finished his slaughter, he had raced to Appa's side in the blink of an eye, drawing upon his power to bring his best friend back, to revive Appa's consciousness. He had even used bloodbending as a tool to help repair the busted vessels and capillaries, and Aang had listened to all his past lives' advice, the best way for him to bring Appa back. He had followed the instructions perfectly, and he felt the inner parts of Appa's body repair themselves, mending what was broken and making it anew. Every injury that his friend had ever experienced fixed itself, and when he had succeeded, and his friend opened his eyes, he had wept once again in relief, all of his past lives joining him; later on, after he had awoken from his coma, he realized that by healing his best friend from his death, he had made Appa stronger than any other sky bison to exist, repairing everything until it was perfect, a perfection that may have never before existed.

"Is she asleep?" Azula's voice drifted into his ears, interrupting his thoughts, and he welcomed it.

Aang kept his attention out the windowsill as he sensed Samir's breathing; she was asleep. "She is," he confirmed softly.

Azula effortlessly slipped into the room unheard, aligning herself near him; there was a space between their bodies, and there was a big part of him—bigger than he was comfortable admitting—that wanted to bridge the space and pull her against him.

"How will this work?" she asked quietly. "If Vaatu comes- "

"I will feel any presence that enters this room, spirit or human," he answered. "If Vaatu enters her dreams, I will repel him back into the Spirit World and follow him, hunting him down, vanquishing him back into the Tree of Time. Then it will all be over."

It better be over.

Azula's golden eyes were considering. "How will you do such a thing when your body will be here? You did not master your chakras."

"Don't remind me," Aang mumbled, still feeling ashamed and humiliated that he was only able to master one of his chakras; he had anticipated mastering possibly three, but he couldn't even do that. And he didn't foresee himself mastering the other chakras any time soon. It seemed likely that he wouldn't master them for years, but he didn't have that kind of time.

It was why he wanted to defeat Vaatu as quickly as possible. He knew that going to the Spirit World so soon, particularly without his bending, to face Vaatu was illogical, but it was his only option. The longer he waited, especially if he tried to master his chakras, which he felt convinced would never be a prodigious experience like it was for Azula regardless of his prodigious nature, the longer Vaatu had to strengthen himself, which was a danger that permeated his spirit; it left him chilled and shaken. And not to mention giving Ozai more time to master the elements.

The only consolation was that he knew there weren't any Waterbenders alive who would teach Ozai; there weren't any Airbenders alive, either.

He was only happy about one of those facts.

"How will you defeat him without your bending?"

Aang frowned. "I'll think of something."

Azula frowned back. "Perhaps this is not the time to seek Vaatu out. You are not ready to face him."

He sighed, knowing she was right, but he knew he had to do it now; he had thought about it more than she had. "I have to do it. This may be the best chance at stopping a war."

"The war has already begun, Aang- "

"But I can stop it before it gets worse. It's the only way."

"But how will you stop it? You are without bending in the Spirit World, and Vaatu will take advantage- "

"What is it you fear happening?" he demanded, turning his body to face her. "You think I'll lose?"

Azula's lips thinned, golden eyes flashing in displeasure. "I fear he will corrupt you; I fear you will become the Night to herald his Darkness."

Aang scoffed. "That's ridiculous."

"You are going to do whatever you wish," she said after several moments, golden eyes piercing and strong. "You are The Avatar, and I am but a mortal woman trying to conceive powers boundless and eternal."

He closed his eyes and rubbed the tip of the arrow on his forehead through his hair; he refused to feel guilty about the natural distinction between them—even if he usually did because he hated The Avatar. "Stop it. I know what you're doing."

Azula hummed. "I will go with you- "

"You're staying with Samir while I go," he interrupted adamantly. "I don't want you having to face him."

"It is not a matter of what you want but need."

"You're bold," Aang murmured, unable to say anything else, knowing she was correct.

Azula's face tightened and something passed over her memorable features, but he had no idea what it was. "Has your perception changed?" she asked quietly.

"I need specifics."

"You said you were unwilling to give up on me becoming the Mother of Air."

Aang tensed, eyes roaming her face, trying to determine what she was truly asking. "I meant it," he said after several moments, ashamed that he did. "And I still mean it."

Azula smiled slightly. "Then perhaps it was not with boldness I spoke but honesty."

He looked away from her, from the allure she presented. "I need to put him back in the Tree of Time. I can only do that if he's in the Spirit World."

"He will not make it easy, especially when you lack your bending. Wan imprisoned him only because of his bending. How can you defeat- "

"I said I'll think of something, and I will," he stressed, careful of his volume so not to wake Samir. "I can't let this get any worse; I won't let it get worse."

Azula approached quietly, and she reached up and turned his head to face her; her golden eyes were intent. "So, your strategy is trickery, yes?"

Aang took her offered strategy and nodded immediately. "Yes, of course. I'm going to provoke him to put me in the Tree of Time, and then I'll trick him into the Tree of Time."

She hid her surprise well, but he glimpsed it for a moment. "If he hates you as much as I conceive he does, he might fall for it, but what if he does not?"

"I can use energybending to defeat him."

"You can energybend in the Spirit World?"

Aang smiled. "I know what I'm talking about, don't I?"

"Perhaps, Avatar," she acknowledged with a smirk. "But will he be able to thwart that possibility?"

"Even if he can, my spirit is something more," he added softly, seeing the understanding in her beautiful eyes. "My spirit holds primordial power, and I don't need my body to wield that power. I'm going to stop Vaatu; I'm going to stop this war from taking over everything like the Great War did."

"I admire your conviction."

His eyes narrowed. "But you have doubts."

Azula sighed. "This is Vaatu, and he is not like you and I—trying to catch up, unprepared and unknowing. He has planned this for eons. I am certain he planned to attack you through the dreams of someone close to you at least a thousand years ago, and now he fulfills his strategy through Samir."

Aang squeezed his eyes shut. "I have to do something."

"I know. But that is why I will go with you—so you do not do something rash."

"I'm not going to do something rash."

"Ba Sing Se reveals otherwise."

He flinched before straightening; he was unfortunately getting better at ignoring the horrifying memories and images that ravished him when reminded Ba Sing Se, which was often. "That happened because Appa, who I love, was killed. So, you should stay here so you can't be killed, making me do 'something rash'."

Azula's brows rose, and there was a sudden intrigue in her golden eyes that left him wary. "So, you admit you hold such affection for me that my death would provoke a similar reaction to Appa's?"

Aang sighed and threw his hands in the air for a moment. "I can't win, can I?"

"And I am unsure you can win against Vaatu now," Azula said quickly, and he felt immensely grateful that she was willing to bypass his 'confession'. "You have the beginnings of a good plan, but it needs refinement."

"I'm not sure there's time to refine it."

"Which is why I will go with you to the Immortal Realm."

Aang closed his eyes briefly and motioned at Samir's slumbering form. "We don't even know if Vaatu will show up to torment her. He hasn't since I woke up."

Azula smirked. "Now you invoked his presence. But you are not ready to face Vaatu, Aang. I will go with you."

He stared at her for several long moments, but when he realized the strength of her conviction, he relented. "Fine. But you must be ready for the Immortal Realm because it's different; it's unlike your imagination."

"I have a skilled imagination- "

"Not skilled enough."

"The legends say the Immortal Realm is most fearsome, particularly the thorny areas of the Gardens of the Dead."

Aang nodded his head. "It very well can be and is," he agreed, remembering his own experience the first time in the Spirit World during the Siege of the Northern Water Tribe all of those years ago. "You have to follow my instruction and do as I say. If you don't, it's a very real possibility that your spirit will never return to your body."

One of her brows rose. "Why?"

"Time flows differently in the Immortal Realm; it's not like it is here, not one bit. Your spirit can easily become lost in the Land of Spirits; a millennium could pass in the Mortal Realm, but it might only feel like several minutes in the Spirit World. So, by the time when your spirit connects back with your body, there might not be anything here in the Temple left except for a husk of bones for you to reconnect with. So, if we get separated somehow, you have to return immediately to your body. Do you understand?"

She hummed, not looking scared at all, and he was thankful. "I understand. But you will be stuck with me."

"And if Vaatu takes an interest in you?"

Azula scoffed. "My mastered chakras will prevent it."

Aang's fists clenched. "He may wish to take you to your father."

"But he will not have my body," she reminded. "It will be okay, Aang."

He sighed but stiffened when he felt the energy of a powerful spirit buzz against his senses; he placed a finger against his lips, seeing that Azula understood as she stood straighter, more prepared. He motioned for her to follow him as he stepped closer to Samir's slumbering form. Her sleeping face slowly began to show signs of distress, and fearing the dream's intentions, he placed his hand on her forehead and closed his eyes, intent on banishing Vaatu back into the Spirit World and then following him there.

But it wasn't Vaatu.

The spirit was a powerful one that had the energy of Darkness, but strangely enough, it held the energy of Light that resembled his own. Aang's eyebrows furrowed as he dug deeper, for the feel of the spirt was familiar, but who was it? Where had he experienced this neutral aura of energy before, one that was Light and Darkness all at once, a paradox beyond any other?

"Avatar," a familiar voice hissed, and Aang's eyes snapped open in alarm, in dread and realization.

Koh.

He had been blinded by the knowledge of Vaatu that he had forgotten about Koh, had been unable to recognize him immediately! It was all obvious, now, the true endgame of Vaatu's designs; he had convinced Koh to help him escape from the Tree of Time! Only a spirit of immense power could help Vaatu escape from the Tree of Time, and there were few spirits in existence who possessed power that could even give Koh a cause to pause; even the threat of Kuruk's wrath hadn't deterred him from stealing Ummi's face!

He felt Azula touch his arm, and he looked down at her rapidly. "It's Koh," he hissed urgently, watching as her golden eyes widened minutely before a determined glint shone like Agni himself in her orbs.

"Your attention is what I need, Avatar," Koh whispered. "You have angered me enough. Come find me! If you ignore me again, the newest Child of Air will lose her new identity."

Aang grit his teeth and swiftly sat down in the lotus position by Samir's bed. Azula followed, and in tandem, they struck their fists together and closed their eyes.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Well, that's all for this one, folks. Tell me what you think and leave a review; I'd really appreciate it.

**Katara and Ursa have a long conversation about how Katara can regain Aang's trust and simply love him as his "mother." (Again, I find Katara acting as Aang's surrogate mother so much more compelling). Ursa reveals more things about herself and how she achieved peace with her children, for it was a long road, particularly with Azula, but Ursa loves her children. She is an excellent but imperfect mother. I mean, I HATED what the comics did with Ursa; it was, to quote Zuko, dragonshit. This woman is willing to murder Agni's anointed ruler, the Fire Lord himself, her own father-in-law, to save the life of her son whom she loves, and then she flees and shacks up with some nobody named Ikem and has a spirit (the Mother of Faces, I think the name is) take her memories of her life, including all her memories of Zuko and Azula, her beloved children, and change her face? What the actual fuck?! How does that make a SINGLE lick of sense? That's some weak-ass horseshit! A woman who is willing to make that monumental sacrifice for her children, killing the Fire Lord, would never be so weak to do that. Again, it's dragonshit. That decision, choosing to wipe her memories, came from the same woman who told Zuko to never forget who he is, but then she goes and forgets who she is, which means forgetting who Zuko and Azula are? Again, what the actual fuck? It's egregious.

Also, Ursa challenges Katara about why Zuko saved her life in his Agni Kai against Azula. I mean, Zuko's actions make no logical sense because of the fact that, if he died, the war would never end, not really. Either Azula would sit on the Dragon's Throne and descend further into madness, or Iroh would come in, but because he's the Dragon of the West, he's a threat in Earth and Water's eyes. Only if Zuko lived was peace possible, but then Zuko throws that all away to save Katara. Why? Ursa clearly thinks it's because Zuko was in love with Katara because only a fool in love would do something so reckless and stupid, especially during such a pivotal time for the world.

You can make the argument that the only reason Ursa has such a perspective is that she never knew 16-year-old Zuko, only 9-year-old Zuko and below and 20-year-old Zuko and beyond. There's an eleven-year gap in Ursa's understanding of Zuko (and Azula), which is heartbreaking, but she tries to fill it in to the best of her ability. Now, Ursa may be substituting 16-year-old Zuko who sacrificed himself for Katara (and who may or may not have sacrificed himself for other members of the Gaang, but I'm not sure; I'm certain he wouldn't sacrifice himself for Sokka or Suki like that, especially during such a pressing time as ending the Great War because he's the ONLY one in the Fire Nation who can legitimately end the war and be believable in ending the war, both in Fire's eyes and the eyes of Earth and Water. But I'm not sure he would sacrifice himself for Toph or not; I lean towards he wouldn't sacrifice himself, but I'm not sure.) for 20-year-old Zuko who wouldn't do such a thing. So, Ursa pictures her son as she understands and knows him as the one sacrificing himself for Katara, but Zuko has certainly changed since that time, and Ursa just can't understand that as much—because, literally, she wasn't there and didn't know that Zuko.

However, I do think Zuko was, at least, half-way in love with Katara after she forgave him and treated him kindly, like she would a true friend, so he "sees" her for the first time, loving her instantly, so to speak (because it adds another similarity with Ozai, who fell in love with Ursa instantly, just like all men of Sozin's line) because there's evidence for it. In Zuko Alone, Azula plays a prank on Zuko and Mai in which she sets an apple on Mai's head and shoots a small flame, making the apple catch on fire, which puts Mai's life "in danger." Seeing the "threat," Zuko bolts and "saves" Mai, whom he has a crush on, having a complete disregard for his own safety as he drenches himself in the fountain in his gallant quest, ruining his clothes, something improper for a prince, especially a prince of Sozin's line. It's interesting that he does the exact same thing for Katara, bolting (pun intended) in front of the lightning (also due to something that Azula put in motion, intriguingly enough) years later, creating a rhythm, a pattern, an echo; it becomes a distinguishing trait that he does such a thing/things for the girl/woman he "loves." Toph punches people's arms and proclaims her bending prowess; Azula smirks and plays games; Katara makes impassioned, determined speeches while tearbending; Sokka's always hungry and makes bad jokes and loves Boomerang; Suki is efficient and quietly resents Boomerang; Aang does everything in his power to distract himself from the horror and magnitude of Air's murder; and Zuko gallantly rescues the woman he loves—while having his love affair with Honor, of course.

**Zuko orders a concubine to pleasure him, but he can't go through with it after he lies to Katara and disappoints her. Is that love? We'll see.

**I was always curious about how other characters in the Avatar world, Korra included, were never shown 'unlocking' their chakras. Now, maybe it's just an Avatar thing, but I changed it so that mastering chakras, which is actually triumphing over the emotions that can block chakras, unleashes the greatest bending potential one can achieve. To me, it seemed that Aang had merely become aware of the emotions and realities that could block his chakras instead of conquering over them. I know in the show it showed him kind of defeating them, but since he was only a twelve-year-old boy, I don't think that that was plausible AT ALL, especially since his chakras could still easily become blocked.

Aang and Azula start mastering their chakras, and Aang can only master one. Aang has a lot of work to do, and he's not there yet, not ready to finish, but he's started, and that means a lot. Meanwhile, Azula accomplishes mastering her chakras, but she has to go through a lot to get there. And she has flashbacks to that fateful day in which Azulon days.

Okay, there's SO MUCH potential with that whole fateful day in which Azulon dies, and I kind ran with it. So, because Azulon knows of Ozai's treachery in having Lu Ten assassinated, he's furious and finally thought of an acceptable punishment after Ozai boldly asks for Azulon to revoke Iroh's place in the line of succession. But because Azula's so young (remember, she's only eight, and has a child's understanding and perception, despite her prodigious qualities; she could never keep up with two people as intelligent and subtle as Ozai and Azulon, and remember, Azula wasn't evil like as is so lazily depicted; she was a daughter under the sway of her father, to whom she was drawn because she is, full and through, her mother's daughter, so I disagree firmly that she was "happy" about Azulon "ordering" Ozai to kill Zuko—that's much too feebly simple), she doesn't understand what's happening and misinterprets Azulon's complicated speech—because that's Azulon's great weakness, for he can't just come out and say, "Ozai, you belligerent, treacherous fuck, you paid the Dai Li to assassinate Lu Ten, and now you shall join the Dai Li as my sworn enemy!" or something to that effect, meaning there's A LOT of room for Ozai to manipulate, something he learned from Azulon—as an order to kill Zuko, which is the beginning of the end for her family, although she doesn't realize it until she's mastering her chakras.

Really, Azula has much reason to feel ashamed, for she set the whole thing in motion. If she never misinterpreted Azulon's words and told Zuko that Ozai was going to kill him, EVERYTHING would change. Azulon would still be alive, Ursa would never have fled, and Ozai would have been banished to the Earth Kingdom, deprived of all his rights as a Child of Fire. But Azula jumped the gun; she failed. She couldn't articulate what she heard to Ursa because A LOT of what she overheard went completely over her head, and Ursa went to Ozai, who took brilliant advantage of the situation.

And as for the reason why Ursa says goodbye to Zuko and not Azula is that Ursa, on the worst day of her life, knows that Zuko, in those few seconds she sees him, can bring her joy and purity because they had a strong relationship. Meanwhile, she and Azula butted heads because they were too similar, and Azula spewed vitriol in their final conversation, and Ursa, after having done something so monstrous and horrifying, couldn't bear the thought of having a repeat conversation like that—for that was the pattern of she and Azula's relationship. She couldn't have known that Azula was regretful, not when she could barely think straight after murdering the man she loved as a father.

Ultimately, I think it makes more sense that Zuko bonded with Ursa so much because he's so similar to his father, who adores Ursa, while Azula bonded with Ozai so much because she's so similar to her mother, who adores Ozai. In effect, it's history "repeating" itself; it's a cycle. Really, the worst thing about Ursa is that she loves Ozai even after everything he's done. But because she's willing to love her children even after the twisted shit they've done (looking at you there, Azula), it makes perfect sense that she would love her husband and try to love him, even if she could never forgive some of the things he's done. But then as Zuko ages, he takes the road that Ozai did (rejecting his father and, pretty much, telling him to fuck himself), which makes Ozai proud—angry, of course, but still proud. However, Azula, as she ages, takes the road that Ursa did (which means failing, like how she failed to see through Ozai's manipulations about Azulon and her failure to foresee the fates of her children after that monumental day, similar to how Azula failed to foresee Mai and Ty Lee's betrayal and see through her father's manipulations), which means that Ozai is disappointed in Azula, not proud like he is of Zuko in his twisted way. (And, perhaps, because Azula resembles her mother more and more, the older she gets, the more Ozai is reminded of Ursa's betrayal to him by fleeing the Caldera after killing Azulon when the plan was for her to stay with him—because he never wanted her to leave). That could play into part of his disregard with Azula, not wanting to see anymore of Ursa—when, ironically, all he wanted to see in Azula when she was a child was Ursa.

After Azula masters her chakras, she, Aang, and Pathik discuss Samir and how Aang can make her airbending connection stronger, but that doesn't mean that there will be anymore Airbenders after Samir's children or grandchildren—because Samir's connection isn't too strong, meaning her blood is too diluted for lasting success in bearing Airbenders.

**Aang gets Samir to connect to her airbending while Azula watches, and Aang celebrates like a madman with Samir while Azula talks with Toph.

**Azula remasters lightning! She learns from Aang of the different facets of Power and chooses from which source to draw her dedication.

**Aang and Azula strive to get to the bottom of Samir's nightmares while discussing far-fetched strategies to defeat Vaatu—because Aang is desperate to defeat Vaatu is quickly as possible to thwart imminent destruction, meaning he is sloppy in his designs and rationale. But it's revealed that Koh is behind Samir's nightmares, not Vaatu!

That's all for this one, everyone, so if you tell me what you thought about it, I'd really appreciate it.

Stay Safe
ButtonPusher