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!

15. Marriage

Thanks for the feedback, everyone. I really appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender

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Sweat poured down his face as he exerted himself to the limits of his reserves of energy without sleep. But he kept fighting! He had to fight for her! He had to find her before Agni reformed!

Where was she?

He had no idea how much of the Immortal Realm he had scoured nor how many days had passed; the only thing he knew was that he had eternity to go!

What if Agni reformed before he found and returned Azula? How would he return her? He couldn't simply accept that she was gone—he had lost too much! He couldn't lose her on top of losing his race, home, and family! He couldn't lose her after losing everything that was right in the world! He couldn't lose her when she was one of the only scarce things he found tolerable about the damned, evil time he awakened in!

What would become of him if he lost her to the Gardens?

He was terrified of the answer and doubled his intensity in his expansive search, but he didn't only want Azula back for himself; he wanted her back for her! He wanted her to live and have a life, enjoying the renowned complexities of Life; he wanted her to experience joy again; he wanted her to find delight and laugh again because she felt free enough to do so; he wanted her to eat the foods and drink the drinks she craved; he wanted her to find rest and contentment, living days and nights, active and asleep; he wanted her to find the freedom she longed for and the peace associated with it.

All things that evaded him—but he wanted those things for her, even if they were impossible for him.

When he opened his eyes, he sagged and placed his hand on the ground to steady himself—such was his weakness! His limbs trembled and lungs quivered, but he breathed and found himself once again, and his breathing strengthened when he saw Azula's body in its same position, breathing seamlessly—but that was all.

She needed to open her eyes, too!

But what if she did not want to return? What if she found her freedom and peace in death? What if she was accepting and serene? What if she was relieved to die? What if she was happy that she had died? What if she would hate him for returning her? What if she would resent him? What if she wanted nothing to do with Air? What if she changed her mind? What if, upon seeing the conclusion her love for him brought her, she would vanquish her love for him and discard it, casting it—and him—aside, no longer loving him? What if she regretted her decision to sacrifice herself for him and resented the fact that he had to save her and that she couldn't save herself? What if, once she came back, she distanced herself from him, hating what her love for him did to her? What if she disavowed him? What if her death maddened her, reverted her to her insanity, and she tried to kill him? What if there was nothing to return because Azula, though still returnable, was gone? What if the terrors of the Immortal Realm, and there were many, robbed her of her spirit? What if she was no longer the Azula he knew? What if she was no longer the Azula he loved?

Aang felt himself teetering closer to the abyss of madness, the same one he crawled out of after Ba Sing Se, with each passing question stared at Azula's body. "Do I do this?" he pleaded. "Are you happy? Are you relieved to have died? Where are you?" He bowed his head. "I'm going to return you, no matter what. Maybe you don't want it, and I want to accept your wishes, but I don't know your wishes. I'm sorry that I never asked your wishes; I'm sorry I never asked you a lot of things. Please be you—please. Even if you hate me—I can bear it, but only if you're you. Please be you, Azula."

As he knew there would be, there was no response, but it didn't make it less painful.

He knew he should stretch his legs and eat and drink something—his body needed sustenance desperately—but he didn't move; he simply watched Azula's body, following the rise and fall of her chest. He didn't want to remember when her chest was rigid, constricted by Death's grip, but he did all too clearly; he saw the motionless eternity of her body, the immobile contortion of her limbs, and the unfamiliarity of her familiar face, cast in a blank serenity that was unnatural for such a violent death.

Was that how his race looked? Was that how Gyatso looked after the Imperial Firebenders overwhelmed him finally after he killed dozens?

He wouldn't let Azula end up like Gyatso and his race—he wouldn't!

As he prepared himself to scour the Immortal Realm again, consequences to his body be damned, he stiffened at a familiar roar echoing through the air.

Appa.

When he sensed Appa land in the camp outside the tent, Aang scrambled to his feet with uncoordinated movements, vision swirling before he staggered out of the tent to hear Appa's roar of greeting. On Appa's head sat Zuko and Katara, and in the saddle sat Sokka, Suki, Toph, Ursa, and what looked like a bound Mai and Ty Lee, who snarled when they saw him.

Katara gasped when she saw him, looking horrified. "Aang! You look terrible!"

Toph hopped off instantly and landed with a moan of delight before she grimaced almost instantly. "Shit, Twinkletoes! Sugar Queen's right—you feel like you need some sleep!"

"Not until Azula's back," he muttered, focusing on Toph but finding it difficult—he was so tired! "Did you tell them everything?"

Before Toph could respond, Ursa ran with desperate urgency toward him, golden eyes watery and imploring. "Where is Azula? Please, Avatar Aang. Tell me where she is."

Aang pointed to the tent behind him. "She's in there. I'm so sorry- "

Ursa took off into the tent before he could finish his apology, and he sensed her heart freeze for a moment before it regained its swift vigor as she approached Azula's body; he forced himself not to listen to what she said to her daughter.

"The big points," Toph answered finally with a solemn look on her face. "I told them the big points. I'm sure I missed some things. And you can answer things much better than I can. I don't understand half of what's going on."

He nodded and frowned as he felt Vaatu's energy near him, but it wasn't Vaatu, clearly; its potency was so lackluster that he almost didn't notice it—he almost assumed it was due to his extensive exhaustion, but it was Vaatu's energy.

"What is it?" Zuko demanded, coming toward him with long strides. "What's wrong?"

Aang shook his head as he realized where the source was—the chained Mai and Ty Lee, who Sokka and Suki pulled to the ground in chains. Immediately, Toph imprisoned them up to their necks in the ground. "I'm not sure," he said slowly. "Why are they here?"

Zuko followed his gaze and nodded. "They tried to assassinate me and aren't making any sense."

"Quite the return from their banishments. I'm glad they didn't succeed," he said softly, trying not to think of Azula—he failed, of course.

"Me too. Uncle seems to think they were influenced- "

Aang groaned as he made the connection, but he was unsure he possessed the energy to deal with Vaatu's invasion of Mai and Ty Lee. "Vaatu did it. I sense his energy in them, but now it makes sense. He did influence them, clearly—antagonized the darkness of their hearts."

Zuko looked relieved. "Good. Can you reverse it?"

"Yes. But not right now. There are more important things."

Zuko clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him into a brief hug. "It's good to see you."

Aang flinched but hugged him back. "You know about… Azula?"

"Toph told us what happened," Zuko whispered, face falling. "Is she back yet?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Her body is, but not her spirit. I haven't found her yet."

Zuko's eyes showed his intense dismay. "It's been over two weeks. How long- "

His urgency ignited with a panic as he realized how long it had been; it was impossible to keep track of time during his search. "Over two weeks?" he whispered, stricken.

"How can we help, Aang?" Katara asked finally, looking at him with determination and hope; it was almost like they were who they once were, but they weren't—and never would be.

But he didn't want to be—he would never be that weak, stupid boy again!

Aang shook his head. "You can't do anything—none of you can. I have to find her; it's only me- "

"How can we help you?" She dared place a tentative hand on his bare arm before he flinched, causing her to withdraw with a mournful look. "You look like you can barely stand."

He grit his teeth. "That's because I barely can."

Suki shared a glance with Sokka. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't remember- "

Katara drew herself up with a stern look on his face, and he would have resented it if he weren't so exhausted. "How can you help Azula if you can't help yourself?"

He threw his hands in the air. "I'm doing this for her!"

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we know—you're in love with her."

Aang flinched before glaring at Toph. "I didn't tell you to tell them that!"

Toph looked unimpressed. "They would have figured it out, Aang. You may be the smartest guy in the world, but you're not the best at hiding things."

Sokka glanced at Toph, offended. "Smartest guy in the world?" he echoed in disbelief. "You've met me, haven't you?"

"Unfortunately."

Zuko sighed. "Aang, you're no use to Azula unless you rest- "

"I'm no use to her if Agni reforms before I find her!" Aang snapped, feeling his vigor expand, reviving him slightly from his exhaustion. "Stop distracting me! I have to find her! She's your sister!"

"That's why I'm telling you this," Zuko said slowly, the other half of his face looking as raw as his scar. "What happens if you exhaust yourself looking for her that you miss her standing right in front of you, and Agni reforms, which means she's gone?"

"Then I'd destroy this place."

Toph snorted. "You already did that. I was there."

Sokka whistled, looking amazed at the carnage everywhere. "Wait. You did this, Aang?"

"It wasn't only me," he muttered, trying not to think of Ba Sing Se; he failed.

Toph pointed to the south. "That's where the giant mountain was."

"There's nothing there!" Sokka shouted, incredulous.

"I told you it wouldn't be- "

"I thought you were exaggerating! Shit, Aang! Why didn't you do this during the War?"

Aang glanced at him, deprived of the energy to play along. "You know why."

Zuko gripped him by his shoulders and drew his gaze to his. "You're the only one who can get her back, and we all want her back." He looked at Sokka, Suki, and Katara. "Right? Right?"

"Right," Sokka, Suki, and Katara chorused, but Aang was unconvinced and didn't believe any of them.

Apparently, Zuko was aware as he turned back to him with a grimace. "The point is—you're the only one who can bring her back. That means we can't do anything for you. You have to do all of it- "

Aang's jaw clenched. "I know! That's what I said!"

"Which includes taking care of yourself," Zuko continued easily, holding his gaze. "We can't take care of you for you. We can help you, but we can't do it for you. The only way you can bring Azula back is if you take care of yourself at the same time. Look at yourself, Aang." He squeezed his shoulders. "Look at how you're shaking beneath my hands. You feel like you're about to fall apart."

He hadn't realized his body quivered from exertion until Zuko pointed it out, and he stumbled away; he pivoted towards the confined Mai and Ty Lee and grit his teeth in determination. "I'm fine!" he said stubbornly as he marched toward them. "I'll show you."

He released them from their prison, bemused and disheartened while annoyed when they began to thrash violently, snarls escaping their lips, the dark energy inside them screeching. He inhaled roughly, psyching himself up, preparing for the onslaught, and, without preamble, placed his thumbs on their foreheads, one on Mai's and the other on Ty Lee's.

Their eyes bulged from their sockets, and they stopped breathing; the dark energy shrieked in protest, powerful and coaxing, and Aang had felt it many times before since encountering Vaatu; he had felt that energy since before he remembered Vaatu's existence. He had felt it for many years; he had felt it since he learned he was The Avatar.

The energy felt good and soothing, fulfilling and seductive, brimming with promises and possibilities.

It felt good.

Upon that shameful thought, Aang summoned his reserves of focus and energy, nearly blacking out in the process, but pulled the energy out of their bodies.

"Damn," Sokka muttered behind him, but he ignored everything but the dark energy.

Mai and Ty Lee gasped, falling bonelessly to the ground in a heap, eyes blinking rapidly. But Aang struggled with the dark energy swirling between his hands like living shadows, curling around his fingers and seeping through, swaying like a gentle breeze. He felt the powerful impulse to absorb the energy himself, not having the strength to banish it, but with the pressure of the Gaang behind him, the reminder of their powerful presence, he slammed his hands together in a wavering clap, focused his own power into it, and forced it to disperse into nothingness.

If the Gaang hadn't been there, he knew, deep down, that he would have absorbed it.

"They won't attack us?" Zuko asked from behind him, and Aang turned around after making sure that no dark energy had escaped his notice; he could barely stand up.

He nodded, unable to speak, too exhausted.

"You alright, Aang?" Toph asked, face worried and anxious; hers wasn't the only one. Aang had no idea what he looked like, but based on the looks on their faces, it wasn't good or healthy. "You feel like shit."

Mai and Ty Lee groaned, both opening their eyes to stare directly at him. "Thank you, Avatar."

He shuddered in effort but paused, squinting down at Ty Lee, sensing her chi—there was something wrong. Unlike Mai's chi, which he sensed as well, Ty Lee's chi pathways and chi itself were like a newborn's rather than a matured woman in adulthood, like Mai; it was like Ty Lee's chi itself was stunted, trapped in infancy, never given the chance to mature.

Was Vaatu responsible? He didn't know because he had never taken the time to assess Ty Lee's chi before—and it didn't even matter!

Only Azula mattered!

Aang staggered away, waving them off with a half-hearted flourish. "Azula," he managed to croak, directing himself to the tent. He had to find Azula! It was all that mattered! She was all that mattered now!

He needed to return her before Agni reformed and before time ran out!

Katara grabbed onto him with desperate determination before he entered the tent. "You need to eat- "

Toph rummaged through the sack in Appa's saddle. "Here you go, Aang!" She jumped back down and held out several fruit pies. "These are probably bad by now- "

Aang didn't care and stuffed the fruit pies into his mouth, one after another, finding brief comfort in its familiar taste. Slowly, with each passing bite and swallow, he felt his energy build, swelling and swelling. When he drank the water that Suki gave him, he wanted nothing more than to sleep; he needed sleep!

It was miraculous that he didn't fall asleep already during his search out of exhaustion, but he knew it was the fact that he was The Avatar, meaning he had incalculably vast reserves of energy, more than any mortal, that allowed him to stay awake for so long while being pressed to the edge of his limits.

It was probably the only time in his life he ever felt grateful for The Avatar.

"Thank you," he whispered, not realizing that he had collapsed to his knees until he saw everyone else sitting before him, including Mai and Ty Lee. He blinked and focused on them. "How do you feel?"

Ty Lee's gray eyes—the same as Samir's since they were both descendants of Jyzhol of Ishaner—misted with awe and relief, but he couldn't think of Samir right now! "Thank you, Avatar Aang. You didn't have to do that."

Mai nodded, eyes teeming with a large, unusual amount of emotion. "How can we repay you?"

Aang tried to smile but knew it was more of a grimace. "Be helpful, and I'll have no complaints."

"Consider it done," Ty Lee chirped, nodding rapidly. "What can we do?"

"Be quiet," he whispered, rubbing a stiff finger against his temple. "I need to think."

Instantly, Ty Lee became silent. However, the silence was pierced swiftly.

Sokka glanced at Zuko before looking at him. "We all need to talk and get our heads on straight before you look for Azula again- "

"He needs to sleep first," Katara insisted, adamant.

Aang knew she was right but glared at her. "I've slept enough in my life; I'm not sleeping until Azula is back."

Toph grinned wickedly. "Because you want to sleep with her."

Zuko's eyes fluttered shut, face pained. "Let's talk about something else."

Sokka snorted in amusement. "When Aang does go to sleep, whether with Azula or not—but just know that sleeping with her is gross—make sure it's not in the ocean."

Toph scoffed and punched her fist into her cupped palm. "Be serious or I'll make it you who sleeps in the ocean."

"You don't even know what the ocean looks like!"

"I've smelled it and felt it!"

"That means nothing!"

"Sokka's right," Zuko interrupted with a shake of his head. "We need to all discuss what's happening first before Aang starts looking for Azula again."

Aang sagged, not wanting to move but knowing he needed to. "Help me inside the tent."

Zuko and Sokka pulled him to his feet and dragged him into the tent. Ursa knelt besides Azula, whispering softly and rubbing a kind hand over the side of her face, face raw and devastated. Zuko stiffened upon seeing Azula's body while Mai and Ty Lee stared in disbelieving shock; Toph looked disappointed that there was no change since the last time she felt Azula.

Katara, Sokka, and Suki had no reaction.

"Mother?" Zuko called out softly, voice faint and cracking.

Ursa looked up with a weary smile. "Avatar Aang," she greeted with a bow of her head. "Thank you for your arduous endeavor of bringing her back."

Aang tried to smile back as Zuko and Sokka released him; he staggered to sit on the furs by Azula's body, uncaring what his actions conveyed to the others; he was tired of caring. "It's the least I can do. I want her to live and have a life."

"How did you heal her body?" Katara asked, amazed, as her critical eye swept over Azula's body. "Toph said it was lightning."

"I focused and healed," he explained with a tired shrug. "I repaired everything I could. I didn't stop until the morning. It was hours."

Katara glanced at him with worry. "You can't drain yourself- "

"I have more energy than you; I have more energy than anyone."

"How do you heal someone that's dead?" Suki questioned, staring at Azula's chest as it elevated and deflated in its rhythmic breathing. "How do you encourage a heart to beat that no longer beats?"

Aang closed his eyes. "By creating a new heart."

Silence. Everyone, even Toph, stared at him with varying levels of shock.

Katara's eyes bulged. "What?" she breathed finally.

Aang looked at Toph. "I thought you told- "

"I was blind," Toph said quickly. "I don't know exactly what happened. All I know is she got killed by lightning by her dad, which caused you to go on another rampage—that's it."

"The lightning destroyed her heart and much of her left breast, and there were many other injuries on her body." It occurred to him that he could ask Ursa, Suki, or Katara to analyze Azula's left breast to ensure it matched its twin, but he decided to ask later. "I encouraged growth and repaired everything, using bloodbending- "

Katara gasped, disbelief and horror etched onto her face. "Bloodbending?"

"It saved her body," he said, daring her to disagree. "How can it be a bad thing if it saved her body and helped her heart beat, helped her body re-begin its circulation? How you use bloodbending determines if its good or bad. I used it to save a life—her life. I'm not apologizing for that—I have enough to apologize for forever."

Something struck Katara's face, but she said nothing, bowing her head, thinking deeply.

"You saved her body and will return her spirit," Zuko said, relief and awe on his face. "Thank you, Aang. The Fire royal family owes you a debt."

"It has nothing to do with her heritage and everything to do with her."

"And everything to do with what you feel for her," Sokka muttered, face twisting. "It's amazing you can do this, but why her? Why not someone else? Why not bring back- "

Aang frowned. "I have a limited window, which you're wasting right now with your stupid questions, to bring her back because I destroyed Agni's body. It takes him time to reform his body and continue his duties, which includes transporting his Children's spirits to the Gardens. I can't bring anyone else back without having access to a dead body to revive and an absent Elemental—that's it. Do you know how hard it is to find her spirit? I've searched eternity and still have eternity to go! And that's to find one spirit! That's to find someone I love! I couldn't do it for anyone else."

Otherwise, he would return Air instantly, starting with Gyatso.

Sokka stared at him before nodding. "I get it. She feels really good when you're inside her- "

"I haven't had sex with her!"

"Then how can you possibly feel what you feel for her?"

Zuko and Ursa looked irritated, on the verge of angry, particularly Ursa, but it was nothing compared to what simmered in Aang. "I know you don't trust her—I'm not asking you trust her; I'm asking you to trust me."

Sokka scoffed. "You've shown us nothing to be worthy of our trust."

Katara's eyes widened. "No, that's not true- "

"It is," Sokka insisted. "How does Aang have our trust? He was throwing me around a room last time we saw him. Look what he did to Ba Sing Se!"

Aang stared at Sokka for a long moment before he shrugged. "You shouldn't trust me," he agreed, watching Sokka's eyes widen in surprise. "I'm not that stupid boy you knew; I'm never going to be again—so stop looking for him. I could kill all of you easily, and you could never prevent it; you could never stop me. You should never trust The Avatar—The Avatar is evil."

Unlike the others, Toph only rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Twinkletoes. And for what it's worth, Snoozles—I trust Azula. She earned it. I've been around her for months now. She takes some getting used to, and she has a really strange sense of humor and talks like a noble, all 'sophisticated' and everything, if there ever was one, but she's not bad. I've met way worse—trust me."

Sokka crossed his arms across his chest. "That doesn't make me feel better- "

"It's not about what you feel," Zuko interrupted with a scowl.

"Then it's not about what Aang feels, either," Sokka fired back. "You can't have it both ways. Either the feelings matter, or they don't. Aang is bringing her back because of what he feels. I'm telling him why I'm hesitant because of what I feel."

"My feelings matter more than yours," Aang said quietly.

Sokka snorted. "And let me guess, it's because you're The Avatar, right?"

Aang resented that he didn't have a better answer, but before he opened his mouth, Ursa did: "He is the man who loves my daughter, Prince Sokka—that is enough."

"Is it?" Sokka challenged, doubtful. "I'm know I'm being an asshole, but someone has to be. I think you more than anyone, Ursa, would realize that someone who's loved isn't always deserving and worthy of that love."

Ursa's eyes darkened before an expression of distance crossed her face; she seemed far away. "I understand your comparison between my daughter and husband, but I guarantee you on my life and the lives of my children that Azula and Ozai are profoundly different. If you continue your slander of my daughter, I will challenge you to an Agni Kai, and I will not hold back." An ire glowed in her vivid golden eyes, exactly like Azula's. "None of you could stop me. I will show you why my husband adores me—how it was me who evoked his rise to eminence."

Aang nodded. "And I won't stop her, Sokka."

Sokka assessed Ursa for several moments before looking away with a grimace; he turned to Zuko. "Well? Anything to add?"

Zuko raised one shoulder in a shrug, and Aang felt pained at how similar the movement was to Azula; he wanted her here to commit such an action herself. Maybe that was why Zuko did it—to feel closer to Azula. "I agree whole-heartedly. I'm like my father, and Azula is like Mother. Anyone with intelligence and a pair of eyes understands it."

Sokka scoffed. "I don't see it. Forgive me for knowing the truth that all men know—any woman who knows what she's doing can captivate a man in mere moments and persuade that man to do anything she wants, even destroy the world." He held up his hands at Ursa. "No Agni Kai! It has to be said—you know it does! You'd be alright if it was anyone else but your daughter! This is Azula. It's not just a coincidence that the moment she enters Aang's life, he murders Ba Sing Se like it's a fucking toy."

"That was me," Aang said. "It had nothing to do with her."

"It's still Azula! She shot lightning at you in Ba Sing Se, almost killing you, and she gets lightning now! It's poetic justice as far as I'm concerned!"

Ursa's eyes flashed. "I warned you- "

"And I'm warning you—this is a terrible idea!"

The fire rose in fury, and Zuko's glare reminded Aang of Ozai during Sozin's Comet. "She's my sister- "

"Who's a bitch!" Sokka snapped. "She's a total cunt! I'm not apologizing for saying what we all know, except for Aang who's so taken in by her snatch! I get that she's your sister, but if Katara was a bitch—well, she's a bitch sometimes, but even more of a bitch than usual, like on Azula's level—I'd say the same thing!"

Katara rolled her eyes, frowning, while Ursa looked remarkably similar to Azula before she fired lightning. "It might be the last thing you say. I have tolerated your slander of my daughter- "

Sokka grit his teeth. "It's not slander! It's the truth!"

"It is the truth of who she once was!" Ursa snapped, eyes afire with intensity; Aang had to look away from how much she resembled Azula. "It is slander now because she is not that girl you encountered. It is not an honest assessment of her. And the girl you encountered was not her, only a part of her. I admire you in many ways, Prince Sokka. Being child-like, funny, charming, and intelligent is a great gift. When applied timely, it is an art form that rivals bending itself. Hold onto those traits with everything that you have and then hold onto them even more. However, your childishness is unacceptable now. You resemble King Kuei with your immaturity!"

Sokka's face twisted. "I like you Ursa, but you're her mother. Your word is meaningless. That's like me singing Suki's praises because she's awesome! No one would believe she's awesome because my word is meaningless because I'm her husband. I'm biased for her—like you're biased for Azula."

Surprisingly, Ursa nodded in agreement. "I am biased for Azula—I admit it; I will always admit it. However, you are biased against her. That is dishonorable when you have heard the evidence by reasonable, sober minds that she has changed and matured herself; she is a woman now rather than that girl."

"I'm dishonorable?" Sokka echoed, aghast, waving a hand at Azula's body. "Look at her! Don't you know what your daughter did? She would have destroyed the world to put a smile on your husband's face!"

The fire roared in fury before Ursa calmed down, but the look on her face was chilling. "I would destroy you right now if I knew it would put a smile on my face. But I would only feel saddened by it. This is bigger than your pettiness and my bias, Prince Sokka. Do not speak about things you understand little of. I do not speak of Water or your family like I possess keen understanding." She leaned forward, flames licking at her fingertips. "But I do know that Water respects Family and loves Family. I tell you now in warning—do not talk about my family. You know nothing."

Sokka's jaw clenched before he nodded with a curt nod. "Fine. But I'll talk about what I do know. Your daughter killed indiscriminately in the Great War and let others be killed! She nearly killed Aang and has seduced him so seductively that he forgot about that!"

Aang's eyes shut. "No, I didn't forget, Sokka—I forgave her- "

Sokka whirled on him. "That's fucking rich. She was your enemy, and you choose to forgive her for all the offenses she did to you, but you refuse to forgive your friends for whatever offenses we did to you."

"You really don't want to have this conversation right now," he whispered, trying to maintain his control. "There are bigger things at stake here. A life is at stake—Azula's life."

Zuko nodded adamantly, glaring at Sokka. "We're with you, Aang."

"Thank you- "

"No, no," Sokka interrupted, shaking his head. "Someone has to be the asshole here, and I'm doing it."

Toph snorted without amusement. "How generous of you to volunteer."

"We would talk as a group," Sokka said, gesturing wildly but firmly. "That's what we did; that's how we did things. We didn't follow Aang's orders and decisions—we didn't follow anyone's orders and decisions—without discussing it as a group and choosing what to do. We're not your soldiers, Aang- "

Aang's fists clenched. "You're not my friends, either."

Katara flinched. "We need to calm down- "

Sokka pointed a finger at him, eyes steady. "A friend would be honest with you like I'm being. This isn't how we do things- "

"This isn't how we do things because there is no how we do things," Aang snapped. "That was nine years ago. Things have changed; I've changed; we've changed. For other things, we can discuss it as a group, but for this, it's my decision only."

"No, it's not!" Sokka shouted, appalled. "We're talking about bringing someone, who doesn't even fucking deserve it, back from death!"

Aang knew the only way—the only knowledge—that would ensure peace.

"Azula died saving me," he revealed faintly but firmly. "That's how she died—saving me. Otherwise, it'd be me dead, and I would already be in some Water Tribe woman's womb, growing, thriving, living, and I would open my eyes in nine months—again. Azula prevented that; she saved my life; she saved the world because Vaatu and Ozai would take this world so damn easily without me here as Aang, mature and fully realized."

Silence.

All eyes rooted on him with varying reactions from incomprehension, disbelief, and shock to horror, understanding, and realization.

"I was distracted," he remembered, hating those moments as he saw himself back at that point, frantically trying to convince Appa to leave, convince Appa that he didn't need his protection, but Appa refused to leave. "Appa was scared and in the fight; he came because he heard me screaming. He landed and was there in the fight, right in the middle, in the thick of all the chaos and destruction. I was fighting Agni, Ozai, and Vaatu simultaneously and trying to get him to leave, and I got distracted. I was pushing on him, trying to save him—because I didn't want him killed again, like in Ba Sing Se. But my back was turned, and I was vulnerable; I was defenseless, focused on Appa because he was more important. I heard and felt Ozai fire the lightning, but I turned around too late." He raised his hand and pointed at the imaginary lightning, seeing in his mind how it split the air toward him, mimicking its path toward him with the point of his finger. "It was right there, coming at me, and it was too late; I was too late. I couldn't stop it; I couldn't move because I was too late. It was right there. I was going to die and be reborn nine months later. But then Azula was there and died instead instantly. She died so I could live." His agonized eyes latched onto Katara, Sokka, and Suki's eyes, all of which were wide, staring at him in disbelief. "Yes, you can trust her not to betray me or kill me or be against me. She may be against you for now, but she's on my side, at least. You all are. But you're going to have to learn how to all coexist on my side—that's the problem. Azula's not the problem; her betraying me isn't the problem."

Ursa wiped the tears from her eyes and brushed her hand over Azula's head with tenderness and care; she looked proud and moved while also sorrowful. "How far you have come, my precious daughter."

"That act doesn't redeem her," Zuko said, with his good eye looking misty. "It confirms her redemption. She was already redeemed."

Katara looked struck as she swallowed. "I'm sorry that happened, Aang. Azula didn't deserve that. But you'll get her back. You already brought her body back."

Aang nodded. "I healed her, though there will be scars—one entry and one exit."

"Does yours still bother you?" Katara asked softly, watching him. "I haven't asked you."

"Not really," he divulged honestly. "There are some moments it flares, but it's not like it used to be. Every time I go into The Avatar State, I forget about it more and more—it disappears and fades more and more."

Katara looked relieved. "That's good—I'm glad."

Sokka cleared his throat, awkward. "I respect that she did that. It's not a trick if she died for you willingly. No one dies for the sake of a trick or manipulation. She's genuine. But you understand why I thought differently?"

Aang sighed. "Yes. I had doubts about her authenticity, too, but about different things."

"Just answer me one thing," Sokka continued, more serious and less angry. "Would you return anyone else? Or does only she get that special treatment?"

"I would return my race instantly if it were possible," Aang said immediately. "They are foremost forever."

"But you're doing this out of a selfish motive- "

"Yes, but I also want her to live again and have a life; I want her to have joy and peace and freedom- "

Sokka nodded and held up a hand. "That's great—I mean that. But if it were anyone else, someone you didn't care about or have a vested interest in, like say my mom, you wouldn't return her if you could; you would let her die."

Aang stiffened. "Yes," he agreed at last after several long moments.

Katara flinched but didn't look surprised while Sokka smiled humorlessly. "Don't you see something wrong with that, Aang? You're choosing who stays dead and who gets a second chance when everyone deserves a second chance."

"Not even you believe that," Aang pointed out, frustrated. "Tell me right now that Sozin deserves a second chance—I dare you."

Sokka hesitated but shook his head. "You're using an extreme example to discredit- "

"This whole thing is extreme! That's the only way to understand it!"

"The point is—you're starting something here," Sokka said, glancing at Zuko with an unreadable look; Zuko looked deep in thought and unsettled. "It sets a precedent, and precedence is the essence of all power."

Ursa shook her head. "The precedent is the nature of this complex situation. It may seem simple on the surface, as all things do, but its depths are immense. Avatar Aang can only return Azula's spirit because Agni was killed and, thus, stalled of his duties temporarily. The situation is only possible because Agni is gone."

Sokka shrugged. "What's to stop Aang—or another Avatar in another lifetime—from killing another Elemental Spirit in the future to make this situation possible again? It's The Avatar choosing who gets to live and who gets to die, ultimately."

Aang closed his eyes, understanding Sokka's point; it had occurred to him painfully that if he was there at Air's murder within a month's time, he could have returned his race if he killed Indra's body, stalling her duties—while finding them within the allotted time. "I don't know how, but this was meant to happen. Too much happened too perfectly. Something like this wouldn't happen again as far as I can see. Agni and Devi chose to stay and try to fight me after Azula was killed, even after seeing The Avatar State; they didn't flee immediately. Vaatu didn't try to save them; they all stayed there—I don't know why. They had their reasons, but they had the chance—a long chance—to leave."

Toph shivered. "Even I could tell shit was about to go sky-high, and I was totally fucking blind. If I could tell, those cunt Elementals could tell."

He nodded. "But they chose to stay; they willed themselves to stay—I don't know why. It's clear that something like that wouldn't happen again. The precedent I set is that I was willing to kill the Elementals when I had never done that before in any of my lifetimes—that's the heart of the precedent. Going forward, all the Elementals will know what I'm willing to do and do their best to avoid that fate because reforming themselves is an agonizing process; they want to avoid it at all costs. I tell you with confidence that Devi would rather let something like Ba Sing Se happen again ten times over than be forced to reform herself—that's how agonizing the process is. This will never happen again. The Elementals will never fight me again and do their best to avoid me. This was Fate, and it's Azula's fate to return. Fate wouldn't have this happen again in the future as far as I can see, and I can see far."

Sokka frowned. "Then that means Fate thought Azula is so important that it made a way for her to come back and no one else in the history of the world. It put all of this in motion across the expanse of Time to happen right now in this era with these people and spirits so Azula could come back. That makes no sense! Fate would never place such importance on one person."

Aang smiled tightly. "Fate placed such importance on one person when Wan became the First; he ascended to The Avatar. You speak of precedent—the precedent for Fate is there."

"That means Azula is as important as The Avatar."

"She is as important as The Avatar because I think she's important; I think she's more important than The Avatar."

Sokka looked disgruntled. "Speaking of saying something you don't believe."

"It's the truth," he admitted easily. He would hate The Avatar forever.

Sokka grunted, disgusted. "I don't like this. It shouldn't be the truth."

"I'm not asking you to like it; I'm asking you accept it and live with it."

Katara fiddled with the edge of her gown from where she sat, looking hesitant. "I want to give her a chance—I do. If Toph says to trust her, that means a lot. Toph always has had good sense about people."

Toph grinned and punched Katara's arm lightly. "You know just what to say, Sugar Queen."

"But I'm not going to trust her until she earns it," Katara continued. "None of us will."

Suki nodded. "If she attempts something, we will stop her, with or without your help, Aang."

Aang managed to refrain from observing that, if he willed it, they were incapable of standing against him with success. "She would only try something for us, not against us."

Sokka looked unconvinced but sighed, tired. "I don't like this. It wrong, and I don't mean only because it's Azula. Even if it were someone else, I'd say the same thing."

"If it was your mother?" he challenged.

While Katara averted her eyes, clearly incapable of saying she would not return her mother, Sokka nodded. "Even her. She died. There is no reversing it."

Aang inhaled slowly to control his trembling, exhausted emotions. "Azula has the strength to return and be herself—to be better than she's ever been. I trust her; I have faith in her. Nothing you could ever say would disrupt my confidence in her."

"I'm getting that," Sokka drawled.

Zuko nodded, only brow pinched in rumination. "Could there be changes, Aang? Changes in her?"

He had no idea, and he was terrified that there would be changes in her. "The Immortal Realm is a complex place," he said with deliberate hesitation, spacing his words. "It's more complex than the Mortal Realm."

Toph's brows rose. "Really?"

Aang recalled the Tree of Time and Void of Eternity. "Really," he confirmed. "I don't know where she is. She's not in the Gardens yet; she could be anywhere, but because of it, she could be experiencing the terrors and horrors everywhere. The Immortal Realm is terrifying, especially for mortal spirits; there's a reason why I created the Gardens and tasked the Elementals to shield their Children from those horrors by taking them to the Gardens upon their deaths."

Ursa stared at him in amazement. "You created the Gardens of the Dead?"

He blinked in surprise, realizing what he had said; he hadn't been aware of that fact until it passed his lips, but he nodded, remembering the distant truth of one of his lifetimes. It might have actually been Wan who built the Gardens. "Originally, where spirits went upon their demise was a grim and horrible place, trapped in limbo because their spirits were incapable of being purified to await rebirth if or when it happened—too much misery consumed them, marring their purity, making it impossible to be reborn if they would be reborn. I saw how it was, and I didn't like it; I hated it. Thus, I went into the Immortal Realm and created the Gardens, making it inaccessible to anyone but myself and the Elementals. It is the place all mortal spirits go upon their deaths."

Suki shook her head in awe, but her eyes retained analysis. "And the Gardens are where Agni will take Azula if he reforms before you locate and return her?"

Suddenly, he realized a dreadful truth. Why had he forgotten about the Maze of Thorns? Only an Elemental could subject one of their Children to the Maze of Thorns, usually for terrible slights and crimes committed. It was likely where Zhao rested for his crime of murdering the Moon, though he had never checked to confirm. It wouldn't surprise him if Agni would attempt to place Azula in the Maze of Thorns for siding against Ozai, Vaatu, and himself, aligning herself with The Avatar.

He had to find her to prevent that fate from befalling her!

"Yes," he breathed, rubbing at his forehead; it still felt weird to not feel his long hair. He wanted it to grow back fast. He hated feeling so vulnerable with his tattoo of mastery exposed. Though, his hair had grown to a large stubble across his head since it was burned off by Agni, it was not enough for his comfort; he wanted no one to look twice at him; he wanted to be forgotten. "Seeing those things in the Immortal Realm isn't for the faint of heart, and while Azula's no faint of heart, her mind has broken before. I'm worried what impact this will have on her."

Katara swallowed. "I can work on healing her if I need to if that's the case. I can help."

Ursa looked at Katara gratefully. "Thank you, Katara."

"It looks like Aang has done an excellent job, but it never hurts to have a second pair of eyes and hands."

Aang watched her, wondering if he should trust her. She had always hated Azula, after all. "We'll see," he said, not committing to either a yes or no. "When I search for her again, you'll have to all be on alert. My senses will be in the Immortal Realm, not here."

Sokka's brows furrowed. "We know. You've meditated before- "

"Both my body and spirit are still here," he interrupted. "It's only my senses that- "

"You can do that?"

"Yes."

"Since when?" Sokka demanded, incredulous. "And don't say it's because you're The Avatar!"

"Since I've matured."

"How the fuck can your senses be in the Spirit World if your body and spirit are still here?"

Aang sighed, knowing he needed to explain but not wanting to. "I'm stretching my essence across the Divide but not committing completely to keep myself objective. Basically, I'm straddling the Divide, one foot in and one foot out."

"I don't understand that," Sokka admitted, rubbing his face. "That's makes no sense."

"You're not supposed to understand it. Only I understand it."

Sokka snorted with slim amusement. "Yeah, Avatar and all—I know. But why not actually go into the Spirit World? Why stay here and 'stretch your essence,' whatever that means?"

"Because it's an outsider's perspective," Aang described. "I'm an outsider looking in, able to actually search for her. If I'm actually in the Immortal Realm, I become part of the Immortal Realm and will miss a lot of things. I'm not risking losing her. Right now, Azula is in a liminal state, and I need to also be in a liminal state to find her."

Zuko nodded. "I don't understand the intricacies of it, but your reasoning is sound. I trust you know what you're doing. Whatever you have to do to bring her back, you do it."

"That's a dangerous philosophy," Suki pointed out quietly. "Has this ever happened before? Has The Avatar ever brought someone back from the Dead in any of his lifetimes? We don't know the consequences for this. What if someone has to be offered in Azula's place, a spirit for a spirit?"

Aang cringed. "No, that's not going to happen."

Suki's eyes were solemn but challenging. "How do you know?"

"Because she is liminal right now," he said quickly. "She straddles her life and her death. She's not on either side yet, not fully, not completely, which is what it means to be alive or dead. If she were actually dead, lost to the Gardens, I couldn't bring her back—because her spirit would no longer be connected to her body naturally, yearning for that intimate, whole connection. And her body, without the presence of her spirit, regardless of my efforts to preserve her body, will die without her spirit; it would be too long. And not even I could fix it." Aang looked at Azula's body, swallowing. "It could take Agni a century to reform, but I would still be pressed for time to find her. I need to find her spirit and fasten her spirit back to her body quickly, no matter what. If not, her body will deteriorate, even if I healed it with all my power, will, and focus, because it doesn't have that connection. Ultimately, the spirit is what gives a body its life, not the body itself. We are not bodies with spirits; we are spirits with bodies. Understand the difference."

Zuko paled. "How long do you have?"

Aang bowed his head. "Probably a month. No longer than five weeks—maybe six weeks, but no more than that."

Silence.

Katara looked enlightened in realization, eyes wide. "That's why you've been pushing yourself so hard. It's not only the fact that Agni will reform."

He nodded, exhausted. "It's the fact that Azula will die regardless, lost forever even before Agni reforms if he takes longer than six weeks. It's been over two weeks, just about three weeks, already, and I still have eternity to sift through."

Sokka's head sagged. "This makes way more sense. I was wondering why you didn't just go into the Immortal Realm and keep destroying Agni, keeping him from reforming for as long as you need to—that's the obvious solution—so you can keep searching for Azula's spirit as long as you need to, giving you 'eternity' to sift through eternity. But you can't do it because it wouldn't help you. You would only be wasting time by tracking Agni down and destroying him again."

"I'm wasting time now by talking to you!" Aang snapped, wishing he possessed the energy to shut himself off and stretch his awareness into the Immortal Realm again, but he was too exhausted.

"Which is why we must move to another subject," Suki interjected, placing a hand on Sokka's arm. "Toph explained everything to us as best she could- "

"I missed some things, definitely," Toph pointed out.

"What is the plan, Aang?" Suki continued, looking at him expectantly. "What are we going to do? How do you want to handle this?"

Aang frowned. "I'm going to find Azula's spirit and- "

"After you find her and return her."

"I haven't thought that far ahead," he confessed, worn. "I can barely think as it is. I know there are some maps in the corner over there- "

Sokka gasped. "Maps!" he breathed in joy, jumping to his feet before Aang forced him back down with airbending.

"Not now," Aang ordered. "Do it while I'm searching for Azula. You and Zuko can talk about all sorts of things then, not now. All I know is that Vaatu and Ozai will have to get a new army and wait for Agni and Devi to reform."

Zuko nodded. "And they want all the Elementals, right?"

"Yes."

"Then maybe we should send a message to the North to let Arnook know to expect an attack on the Spirit Oasis- "

Katara glanced at Zuko, startled. "You trust Arnook?"

Zuko sighed. "I trust him not to be an idiot- "

"He's already an idiot!" Katara snapped, and Aang had no idea where her distrust for and vehemence against Arnook came from. "He doesn't want Sokka when Sokka is the only actual heir there is!"

Sokka smiled slightly, puffing up in pride. "I know."

"I trust him not to be an idiot when it comes to preserving the Ocean and Moon from Dark," Zuko explained.

"Dark could try to get the Ocean and Moon now," Suki pointed out. "You know, try to alleviate his losses and secure a quick victory, knowing that you're distracted, Aang."

Aang shook his head. "He doesn't know where the Ocean and Moon are right now."

"Then why not go to the North after Azula is brought back and ensure that he will never get hold of them?"

He liked the suggestion but saw much more wrong with it than right. "If I go now, he'll know their location. I can't risk it, not now."

"Either decision is risky," Zuko pointed out, considering.

Sokka nodded. "It's dangerous."

Aang sighed. "I know. But by doing this, I make it likely he'll get to the Ocean and Moon Spirits; if I travel there now to prevent it, I make it certain he'll get to the Ocean and Moon Spirits. I'll be leading him right to them. I can't have that. The North will have to wait."

Katara shivered. "I don't like this."

Ursa held Azula's limp hand between her hands. "What about the Air Spirit?"

Aang shook his head. "I don't know where she is, and I know Vaatu doesn't, either. And I'm not going to search for her because I'll lead Vaatu right to her." Suddenly, an idea hit him, and he glanced at Mai and Ty Lee, both of whom were muted, clearly overwhelmed. "You've been quiet," he greeted.

"There's too much to say," Mai intoned.

"She means too much to ask," Ty Lee pointed out, looking frazzled, eyes wide. "We're trying to keep up, but it's so much."

He looked away, not wanting to look at Ty Lee's gray eyes; he couldn't think of Samir right now. "Just let me know if you know anything about Vaatu—and don't say his name ever; call him Dark instead."

Mai looked nervous slightly. "And if we already have said his name?"

"Names have power, and when you speak a name, especially for a spirit as powerful as him, you give him power over you. I can say his name because I'm The Avatar. But you've already been corrupted, which means you're more liable to fall under his influence again. You didn't power through his influence. It took me freeing you from it. You are still susceptible to falling under his sway."

"Great," Mai said flatly.

"Can you tell us anything, either of you?" Zuko asked. "Can you remember anything?"

"Not really." Ty Lee looked at Mai hesitantly. "It was like waking from a… horrible nightmare, right?"

Mai nodded. "We only knew the basics—become an Avatar, train with all the Elements and get the Elementals' loyalty, corrupt powerful mortals, and then destroy The Avatar."

Aang hadn't had hope they would know anything but still felt disappointed. "Thanks."

Katara tried to smile. "About the Air Spirit, Aang—would she be at any of the Air Temples?"

He almost snorted, insulted that she thought it hadn't occurred to him to look at the Air Temples, least of all while he spent years restoring their glories. "No. She's been avoiding me. I can't even sense her. The Attack weakened her more than you can understand."

"But she was still strong enough to save Hitchhiker's life in Ba Sing Se," Toph pointed out, curious.

Aang sighed as various questions of Hitchhiker's identity were voiced. "I wasn't ready to talk about her yet," he said through gritted teeth.

Toph shrugged. "Might as well get it out now. She's probably scared to death that you haven't returned for her yet like you promised."

He cringed at the thought; he had forgotten about his promise to return for Samir. "That will be the first thing we do once I bring Azula back," he decided, adamant. "I'll go get her."

"Who the fuck are you talking about?" Sokka demanded, hands rising with the force of his vigor. "Who is 'Hitchhiker'?"

"Her name is Samir, and she's six; she was in Ba Sing Se, and the Air Spirit—Indra—saved her life. She stowed away on Appa- "

Suki's brows rose. "Stowed away on Appa?"

"I wasn't in my best mind and didn't notice," he explained slowly, trying not to think of Gyatso's ghost. "But she's stayed with us at the Eastern Temple ever since. She didn't come with us here for obvious reasons. She couldn't be in a warzone."

Silence.

Toph's brows rose; she looked stunned. "Really?" she demanded, aghast and in disbelief. "You're not going to tell them?"

Katara looked between them, anxious. "Tell us what?"

Aang glared at Toph. "There's nothing to tell right now," he denied, knowing she referred to Samir being an Airbender. "You can tell them when I'm searching for Azula."

"It should be you," Toph said softly, milky eyes hazy. "You should tell."

He couldn't voice that he felt ashamed to tell them about Samir, who was so loving and kind, so innocent, but she was so pathetic and weak in airbending; she wasn't even a real Airbender! He had told countless stories, always citing Air's perfection and greatness, how it was better than the other Elements and Races because it was all true, but Samir obliterated that understanding; she denied the truth of his race with her inadequacy and fraudulence. She was pathetic in airbending, so unlike everyone he grew up with, so unlike his race, so unlike himself. He couldn't let Air become compromised in anyone's eyes. Thus, he refrained from explaining that Samir was the newest Airbender in the world. He knew it was monstrous, but he did it to preserve Air's purity.

That was all that mattered.

"Not now- "

Toph's face reddened in outrage. "You kept saying it was a historical moment—the best day of your life!"

"And then that day was ruined because every day after was a struggle because I'm a terrible mentor, and she's not even real, just an imposter!"

"What are you talking about?" Katara breathed, eyes darting between them. "What happened with Samir?"

Sokka waved his hands. "Wait a minute. You didn't tell us about Samir, Toph! Why?"

Toph scoffed, still upset. "I kind of had other things on my mind, Snoozles. What the fuck do you think? I almost died! And Azula did die!"

"All you need to know is that Indra—the Air Spirit—saved Samir's life in Ba Sing Se," Aang declared, stubborn, not missing how Toph's face twisted in anger and disagreement, but she stayed silent. "I don't know where Indra is, and I can't sense her. She could be in either Realm for all I know. But I can't find her right now as I'd be leading Vaatu directly to her."

"This is just fantastic," Sokka concluded sarcastically and irritably. "We don't have any fucking leads. The only way to make sure Dark doesn't get more powerful is something we can't do right now. That gives him so much time to recover and make new plans!"

"It gives us more time, as well," Ursa pointed out. "We have time."

Suki nodded. "Ozai and Dark have to start from scratch; they have to regroup and rebuild. We can plan and outmaneuver them. We also know where the Ocean and Moon are, and that's our advantage. We can plan for when Dark and Ozai go to the North and make contingencies."

Zuko pinched his nose. "Since I didn't hear anything about you killing any of my nobles, Father's not going to have to start from 'scratch,' exactly."

Aang's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"The vast majority of my nobility betrayed me," Zuko explained with a light sneer of disgust. "They all fled in the night, and they're going to join Father, wherever he is. But beyond the nobles, he'll have to build from scratch, yes."

He felt guilty for pulling Zuko away from the Fire Nation during such a turbulent time. "Do you need to get back and- "

"Uncle is my regent for an indefinite period of time," Zuko dismissed, watching him with an exhausted smile. "I'll be here. Whatever you need, I'll be here to help you. Uncle will handle everything in the Fire Nation. Right now, this is bigger than Fire; it's about the whole world. And I'm doing my part with you here in whatever way you need. Uncle can handle those nobles if they attack. He'll bring back the Dragon of the West, believe me. But I'll be here with you."

Katara's blue eyes were pleading but firm, holding him in place for a moment. "Yes. We'll all be here, Aang; we'll all help."

"Yes," Sokka agreed with a brief grin. "The whole Gaang is back together—with a few newcomers."

The anger was there, and he felt the familiar bitterness flood him—but now wasn't the time and place for a confrontation; Aang tried to smile but didn't know if he succeeded. "Good," he intoned, assessing Azula's body's health.

For now, it was good, though as more time progressed, the sooner her body would begin its deterioration inevitably.

"Count us in as well, Avatar Aang," Ty Lee added. "Mai and I would love to help you stop Ozai."

"Then you can join the Gaang, too," Sokka decided. "More newcomers!"

"Because working in a group worked so well for us last time," Mai pointed out dryly, leaning back. "Whatever. As long as we stop Ozai and Dark."

Aang considered Mai and Ty Lee, tilting his head. "When Azula wakes up, it's possible that she'll attack you."

Azula had mastered her chakras, but that didn't mean she lacked rage and bitterness; it only meant that those things didn't control her.

"We know," Ty Lee whispered, looking sad.

Zuko pulled a letter from his waist, holding it towards him. "Uncle wanted me to give this to you," he said before tossing the scroll, and Aang plucked it from the air before it fell into the fire. "It details the Order of the White Lotus and the replenishing of its ranks."

Aang blinked. "What? What are you talking about?"

Zuko's good eye bulged. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" he demanded, anxious. "What am I missing?"

Sokka looked somber. "A lot."

"Oh, Aang," Katara breathed, bowing her head.

"What is it?" Aang asked, fearing the answer.

Zuko inhaled slowly. "The Order was slaughtered off—hunted, likely, by Father and Dark. It was targeted- "

Terror and horror seized him. "Bumi?" he asked frantically, almost hysterically. "What about Bumi?"

"He's alive," Zuko assured, and Aang sagged in relief.

"That's good," he whispered. "Nothing kills Bumi. He's unkillable; he's going to live as long as I do."

Toph nodded, looking as distressed as everyone else by the knowledge of the Order's slaughter. "He is the Fucker of Fire," she murmured.

Aang squeezed his eyes shut. "The Order's gone?"

"King Bumi verified it," Ursa confirmed. "It was done to weaken you socially and politically."

"Bumi and Iroh are all that's left?"

"And Pakku," Katara said quickly, voice tight. "But that's it. Everyone else is gone. Jeong Jeong is dead, and so is- "

"Piandao," Sokka hissed, fists clenching. "I'm going to avenge him—I swear it. He didn't deserve what he got. None of them did." Their eyes connected. "Promise me that Ozai is going to get killed violently."

While Ursa flinched but said nothing, Aang thought of Ozai killing Azula and seethed. "Legends will be told for generations—going through all Avatar Cycles until the End—about it."

Zuko gestured to the crumpled letter in his hand. "I know it's a lot, but Uncle wanted you to see that. It was his idea for replenishing the Order's ranks."

Aang opened the letter and skimmed the words and closed his eyes in grief; so many members had been slaughtered off, and he wasn't able to stop it. He had no idea that the Order was being hunted and exterminated—like Air! While he had been asleep after Ba Sing Se, was the Order being slaughtered exactly like Air had been?

He hated himself—forever and always.

After controlling his emotions, he looked back at Zuko. "This is good. I support all of Iroh's thoughts and even endorse them; I believe that Mai and Ty Lee and everyone else would make excellent members, although I don't know about the Boulder."

Mai blinked. "Wait, what now?"

"Members of the Order?" Ty Lee asked. "What is the Order?"

"What?" Sokka cried out in interruption, looking scandalized. "What the fuck, Aang? Why? The Boulder is a fucking miracle! We could totally use him! He's awesome!"

"Oh, please, Snoozles," Toph huffed. "I'd eat him for breakfast."

"Sokka," Katara interjected with a roll of her eyes. "The Boulder is stupid; he may be strong physically, but mentally- "

"What does that matter when he could rip your mind in half?" Sokka demanded. "He'd be the strongest- "

"He'd be the weakest bender and dumbest person," Aang interrupted. "That's a no for the Boulder; yes, for everyone else."

Sokka's eyes narrowed, disgruntled. "I get you're pissed at me, especially for what I said about Azula, but don't you dare take it out on the Boulder! He deserves better!"

"He deserves not to be put in a situation where he'd only fail," Aang pointed out. "He'd fail instantly with us. He'd be the first one killed in any battle. You don't want that, do you?"

While Sokka sulked, Zuko turned to Mai and Ty Lee. "The Order of the White Lotus is The Avatar's personal organization, an army of followers who follow him to preserve balance across the world and between the Four Nations. It's been around for over a thousand years. There are four sages, one for each Element, five grandmasters, one for each Element plus combat, twenty-five masters, five for each Element plus combat- "

Mai waved a hand. "If it helps us beat Dark, I'm in."

Ty Lee nodded. "Me too. We want Dark gone. He's horrible."

Aang thought of Vaatu's tempting offer to return Air when they were at the Tree of Time and clenched his fists. "He's worse than you know and can imagine. He's a spirit with eons of knowledge, understanding, and experience. He will find your weakness and use it against you to benefit himself. He knows more than anyone in existence but the Tree."

"Does he know more than you?" Zuko asked, curious.

"He knows more actively, so yes," he responded. "As in, he's conscious of what he knows and can use it to his advantage. I know as much as he does but unconsciously. I don't know what I know because I have gaps between lifetimes and 'forget' and do it all again and must relearn and re-remember everything. He's never had that problem. He's more constant than me."

"But he's trying to be an Avatar himself," Suki pointed out, almost amused. "That would make him less constant and more like you."

"I'm more powerful than he is, and he knows it. There are disadvantages to it, but there are many more advantages, which he understands."

Ursa frowned. "Lady Toph said that Dark explained to you how to return Azula's spirit."

Aang grunted. "It wasn't out of the goodness of his heart, if that's what you're thinking."

Sokka nodded. "He did it to save his ass."

"How did you know that what he told you was possible?" Ursa asked. "How did you know it was the truth rather than a deception?"

"It wasn't a ruse," Aang assured. "When he said it was possible, I knew it; I recognized it for what it was—possible. I just didn't know how to do it, and he gave me vague answers, but I figured it out."

"The problem, simply put, is locating her across the vastness of the Immortal Realm, yes?"

"Unfortunately." He looked at Azula's body, nodding with fatigued exertion. "I need to get back to searching for her."

"Aang, you need to rest," Katara urged.

He hated that he felt his resistance withered; he wanted to rest—he needed it! "I can rest when Azula's back," he said softly without conviction.

Katara bit her lip before she straightened. "You can rest for a little bit and return with fresh senses to find her. You're The Avatar, but you're still a man."

Zuko's lips quirked behind his beard. "And a man needs his rest, Aang."

Aang could no longer fight the yearning. "Okay. I'll lay down for a little bit. But I'm staying here with Azula the whole time."

Toph snorted. "No surprise there."

Sokka rolled his eyes. "You're so paranoid. What, you think we'd try to kill her body again or something while you're asleep?"

He shrugged. "The thought occurred to me."

"You have a really low opinion of us, don't you?"

"Yes."

Sokka smirked. "That's alright—we have a really low opinion of you, too."

"I don't," Katara corrected quickly.

"I have a low enough opinion of you for the both of us," Sokka assured, and Aang found that he took comfort in it.

As everyone began to pile out, Zuko and Ursa stayed.

"What's wrong?" Katara asked, looking at Zuko.

"I need to talk to Aang alone," Zuko replied, gesturing for her to keep going. "I'll be right out."

"I will not be long," Ursa added with a small smile.

When they were alone, Ursa brushed a hand through Azula's hair. "Speak candidly, Avatar Aang. How has Azula been? I trust your judgment."

Aang nodded. "I don't know if Toph told you, but Azula mastered something that's called- "

"Charkas. Lady Toph could not explain it."

"It is intensive work. Very few people in the world can accomplish, but Azula did. She mastered herself. She triumphed over the things that haunted her; she healed, you could say. She is strong; she possesses a firm foundation whereas before she never had one. She has understanding and wisdom now. She strives and seeks to mature herself, and she did it; she succeeded." Aang inhaled slowly, remorse filling him. "I'm sorry that she died for me- "

Ursa held up a hand and sniffed, smiling despite the tears in her golden eyes—the same as Azula's eyes. "She knew her commitment and what it meant, yet she did it anyway. I trust my daughter. If she believed her sacrifice necessary and worth it, if she held no regrets and reacted with love and determination in her heart, it was right and good. She knew what she was doing, Avatar Aang. She did everything to survive under her father out of fear, but she did everything to ensure your survival out of love, even if it meant her death. I am grateful she experienced it and will experience it again when you return her."

Aang nodded, feeling choked. "She's amazing. I'm proud of how far she's come. She has so much strength and insight."

"I am so proud of her, more than she knows. It fills me with great joy and gladness to know that she has become the woman I knew she could be always. You helped her; you loved her."

"She helped and loved me, too," he admitted, bowing his head. "She's not done; she's coming back; she has more life to live."

Ursa smiled at his words, leaned over and kissed Azula's forehead gently, and stood to her feet; she approached Zuko and kissed his forehead, as well. "I feel the same about you, my son."

"You should," Zuko drawled with a slight smirk.

She hummed, shot one last look at Azula's body, and exited the tent, leaving him and Zuko alone.

Zuko watched him for several long moments. "A lot has happened since we last saw each other."

Aang nodded, seeing those damned flashes of Ba Sing Se. "You're right."

"You love my sister," Zuko observed, nodding his head. "You fight to bring her back from her death, giving her a second chance. Thank you."

"Don't thank me until I bring her back."

Zuko looked at Azula's body, and Aang wished she would open her eyes and tease him for getting so worked up for nothing; he wished so many things. "And you're okay with her?" Zuko asked slowly, assessing him with a brief glance. "Last time we talked, you resisted her being the Mother of Air—because of Sozin."

Aang's eyes shut at hearing that damned name. "I hate him. My race isn't real to anyone—because of him. No one in this world seems real to me, fully and utterly complex and idiosyncratic as I am. Everyone seems simple while I am complex, but I know that's not true. However, such a problem increases terribly when thinking about those of the past. I remember my race, and I remember how wonderfully complicated they were. But no one else remembers, and my race is lost to the intellects and understandings of those who know nothing about them—it's disgraceful. My race is incomprehensible and unimaginable to everyone; they are legend rather than real."

"Legends are real," Zuko said softly. "It's literary, not literally."

His fists clenched as that familiar, comforting hatred swelled inside, filling his lungs until he felt himself began to choke on it. "Yes, but their legend exists as a reminder of Sozin's greed and apathy rather than an enlightened civilization with unique customs, traditions, and beliefs different from others. The source of their legend doesn't lie in them; it lies in Sozin! No one remembers Air; everyone remembers Sozin, instead. He absorbed their presence and memory for himself."

Zuko sagged. "I don't know what I can say. I'm sorry isn't enough- "

Aang shook his head. "Stop. I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty. I'm just… angry. I shouldn't feel alone with all of you around me, but I do, especially now. I know that my race, if they were here, would understand and give me the advice I need that no one has been able to; I know Gyatso would know what to say. I wish my race could tell me it's alright and that they are proud of me; I wish they could tell me what to do; I wish they could love me. I need something from them, but there's nothing to get. No one can give me what they gave me. I can't live with that—but I have to." Something hysterical seized hold of him, thrashing and consuming. "I need a solution I can live with, but I haven't discerned one—and I've thought about it for months! Not a day hasn't gone by where I haven't spent time thinking about it, trying to reach a solution, but I keep failing. I know my race would have a solution if they were still here; I know they would know exactly what I need to do; I know they would."

He wished he could know their thoughts on his longing to make Azula the Mother of Air, but he would never have those answers.

Because of Sozin!

Zuko watched him. "What if they wouldn't have answers?"

Aang glanced at him, irritated. "They had all the answers," he dismissed. "But they are too dead to give me the answers. There is a solution and answer for this situation; there's something discoverable, waiting for me to find it."

"Otherwise, it's unbearable," Zuko said slowly, nodding his head. "Because then it means there are no answers, and you have to brace the Unknown and sift through theories and theories until you get the answer."

"There is a solution," Aang emphasized. "I just haven't found it yet."

He loved Azula, but he wasn't ready to marry her, no matter how much he wanted to; it was so much bigger than himself. It was about Air and what Air needed, and what Air needed was a Mother of Air who wasn't Azula, who descended from Sozin.

Air must be free of Sozin and from Sozin!

Aang needed more time to arrive at a solution where he could have both Azula and Air and be at peace.

Zuko shook his head. "You're being too vague. What are you talking about?"

"Vaatu," Aang lied, not knowing how to have such a conversation about Azula with Zuko right now. He wasn't sure anyone would understand. He loved Azula but hated her blood, but it was her blood in which Air's future lineage would rest if he chose her as Mother of Air, which he wanted to do!

But he shouldn't do it! He couldn't do it!

"I'm The Avatar, and I have to figure it out. I have to deal with it. I hate it."

"We all invest our identities with something," Zuko said, looking as heavy as Aang felt. "For a long time, I invested my identity with being my father's 'loyal' son."

Aang shook his head. "I don't have a choice with what I invest my identity. I'm The Avatar, and I will be for all my lifetimes. Nothing changes that."

"But do you invest yourself with being The Avatar?"

Aang snorted, exhausted. "I'm not Kuruk."

"Kuruk invested so much of himself into being The Avatar that there was nothing else. You are many things, Aang—friend, fighter, monk, to name a few. But you haven't invested yourself as The Avatar. I think you refuse to."

He remained quiet for quite a long time, moments stretching into more moments. "For the first twelve years of my life, I knew—knew—that I was just like the other Airbenders, just mortal and normal like all the other boys. Being a prodigy and holding the severe attention of the Elders didn't compromise that—because I knew who and what I was. For I invested myself in it—like you do."

"Like you do," Zuko agreed softly.

"But I learned I was wrong in the worst of ways," he continued, feeling that haunting horror pervade him. That day he learned he was The Avatar was the beginning of the end for him; it was the day when evil started in his life. "I wasn't mortal; I was immortal. I wasn't normal; I was abnormal, a literal once-in-a-lifetime. Then I had to fight Fire, and I didn't know what to invest myself as or with. I didn't want to be The Avatar—I still don't. I hate The Avatar; I want The Avatar to die. I hate that everyone thinks they know me, having a preconceived notion of what I should do and shouldn't do because they know The Avatar and what it means to be The Avatar; I hate the expectations, for the expectations are one-sided fundamentally because all men, from a peasant to the Fire Lord, have expectations of me, but I can't have expectations of them in turn."

Zuko's only brow rose in a mixture of bemusement and intrigue. "You don't have expectations of me?"

"Socially and politically, I'm not 'allowed' to—because The Avatar with such social and political power is terrifying, and I already have too much power," he muttered, dark and bitter, the desperate sheen in his eyes blurring his vision. "I hate it. I have to be perfect, have to correlate to the perception of immortal. But being immortal is terrible; there is no meaning nor fulfillment in immortality. What meaning is there in being The Avatar? There's none! I can't have anything for me; I have no true place to call home, for I'm demanded, expected, and welcomed everywhere. People worship or fear me and make demands of me; they wish to be me or resent me. They thank me, but only because I provided something for them, not because I exist and sacrifice to scopes far beyond instinct. I have to bear the indignity of being immortal." Aang sniffed and wiped away the tears spilling down his cheeks. "No one ever understands it. The extraordinary life—being The Avatar—is not meaningful; the ordinary, average life is what is meaningful and provides meaning. I want that; I want it so badly. I hate The Avatar; I want The Avatar to die."

Zuko looked awkward. "Well, I don't think Azula would agree with the ordinary life part."

"I think she's realizing it more and more with each passing day, and I love her for it," Aang defended, voice drifting through a haze. "The extraordinary life broke her mind, at the end of the day. The ordinary life is what helped heal her. Don't you see? That's the ethos of Air, of my race. We lived ordinary, basic lives because those lives, in and of themselves, are what is meaningful and fulfilling."

"Maybe you need to focus on the immortal more," Zuko mused. "You've been confining yourself to the mortal side, trying to be normal."

"And the solution is to become what is meaningless?" he demanded, aghast, looking at Zuko in horror.

"You need more of the immortal than the mortal right now," Zuko urged. "You think Vaatu is 'degrading' himself by being mortal or anything? You think my father, who has always had aspirations of godhood, will be mortal? Our enemies are not mortal. Maybe it's time you seize being The Avatar—truly."

"What do you think I've done?" Aang demanded with bitter force, gray eyes on fire like a true Firebender. "Every time I be The Avatar, it's evil! I destroyed Ba Sing Se by being The Avatar! I walk the Realms! I command the Elements! I could subjugate All before my power if I had such a depraved desire! I answer only to those I allow such power over me! I am beholden to nothing and no one! Is that what you want? Being The Avatar means the opposite of being mortal!"

"I think you're thinking like a mortal when you need to think like an immortal. This is an immortal game, and it's not fair, but only those who can think like an immortal can be players in this game—only an immortal can win."

Aang looked away in disgust. "I'm not above it all even though it would be easier if I were. I can't be aloof."

"Maybe it's not being aloof," Zuko suggested. "Maybe it's peace. Somehow, you achieve a serenity about everything because everything is Good and Right—somehow. I think that's what Uncle would say; I also read that in some Air Nomad documents when I was hunting you. I thought it was stupid, too."

"Air's not stupid," he defended instantly.

"It doesn't really make sense to me, but it might make sense to you."

Aang groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in a way with such intensity that it felt painful. "It does make sense, but it's not something you ever believe. I can think it, but I will never believe it. No Avatar, from Wan to me, has been able to do that!"

"Maybe you can be the first."

"I'm not talking about this anymore," Aang said firmly, "I'm going to try to sleep now—unless you just gave me nightmares with that absurdity."

Zuko sighed and stood to his feet. "Just think about it. We don't want this to get worse."

Aang's jaw clenched. "You think I don't know that?"

"I know you know that. But remember that you're not the only one who knows it. We're all in this together."

He stared at Zuko for a long time before he nodded. "Promise me you'll wake me up once morning arrives," he demanded. "Promise me on The Avatar."

Zuko looked amused. "I promise on The Avatar to wake you when morning arrives."

His friend left the tent with one last look at him and Azula.

Aang reclined next to Azula's body, finding comfort in the warmth emanating off her—so different than the chill her body once possessed upon her death.

"A small nap," he consoled to her, rubbing the edge of his knuckles across her cheek and into her hair. "That's it. Then I'll find you; I'll bring you back."

When he closed his eyes, his exhaustion consumed him.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Aang was so different—so different from what her memories informed her of who he was. Even though she knew he was different, no thanks to her, it was hard to see so close and intimately.

She had time to adjust with what she knew in the months since his departure to Ba Sing Se and recovery at the Eastern Air Temple. When she first saw him after all those years for a single day and night—and next morning—it was explosive and impossible to correlate with what she knew. It was a shock to the fundamental levels of her understanding.

Her discussions with Ursa about Aang were so helpful, and she thought she was prepared to see Aang again; it was an anticipation at the edge of her awareness ever since Toph returned, the longing to see him again and actually make strides in talking to him, understanding much better and being more mature.

Still, seeing him again was painful.

Where was the boy she awakened from that iceberg? Where was the boy who was happy and so innocent, grinning wildly and laughing freely? Where was the boy whose tears she wiped away and held close as he wept over the murder of his race? Where was the boy she nurtured? Where was the boy who would wake her up after he had nightmares and was too scared and shaken to go back to sleep, so she would stay up with him the rest of the night, talking to him, distracting him, reminding him of better things? Where was the boy who used to smile at her all the time? Where was the boy who would tell her anything? Where was the boy she comforted all her days and nights, from the day she found him to the day she last saw him after the War ended? Where was the boy who took solace in her being around?

The boy had become a man; her son had become a man who looked to another woman to fulfill his longings.

Would he ever look at her the way he used to? Would she ever see that boy she loved again?

Katara felt devastated that she knew the answer was no.

Though, that was the natural order. The boy loses his boyhood to obtain his manhood and become a man—even The Avatar followed the cycle.

But why did there have to be such a difference between the boy she loved and the hard, bitter man? Where was the resemblance? Why did he have to look and act so different? She would accuse him of being an imposter if she didn't know, deep down, that it was him—the arrow tattoos and gray eyes revealed his identity more than anything else, certainly not his height and appearance.

There was little remaining of the boy she loved, but she didn't only love that boy; she loved Aang, as a whole. She would continue to love him, even though it was hard, and things were not as she wanted.

Suddenly, the camp began to shake, and Katara stumbled, fearing an attack. She dashed toward the source of commotion and felt her dread increase when she realized it emanated from Aang and Azula's tent—wasn't that going to take some getting used to?

"What is it?" Katara demanded, seeing the others grouped near the entrance, hesitating.

"He's still asleep," Toph notified flatly, crossing her arms. "And I'm not going in there. He'd probably kill me and not even know it."

"A nightmare," she breathed, pulse racing.

"Maybe just let him wake up on his own," Zuko suggested, frowning. "It might be healthier for us if we don't try to wake him up."

Ursa looked worried. "He might harm Azula with his- "

A large crack ruptured through the ground, and the wind everywhere began to howl. "You don't think he could nightmare himself into The Avatar State, do you?" Sokka cried out, eyes wide.

"I'll wake him up!" Katara shouted, but before she ran off into the tent, Zuko grabbed her arm.

His golden eyes were intense. "Do you know what you're doing?" he asked, voice rising to be heard over the roar of the thrashing winds.

"No! But I have to try!"

Zuko stared at her for a moment, eyes roaming her face before he let her go. "If you have to run, run, got it?"

Katara tried to smile but knew that it wasn't a confident one; she dashed into the tent and yelped when a fireball sailed directly at her. She narrowly managed to defend herself with a shield of water, causing steam to cloud the air, obstructing her vision. She ducked and approached, heart racing as she beheld Aang thrashing on the furs, miraculously not hitting Azula's body at all. But when his fists smashed into the earth, quakes ruptured deeply; wind howled, and flames spurted from his feet from one violent flourish as he jerked and writhed; some of the firewhiskey bottles in the corner shattered, and the liquid—the water therein—lashed out, pulled out of the other properties to make clear water, which spiraled through the air in an ominous warning.

She didn't dare get closer. "Aang!" she shouted. "Aang! Wake up!"

The chaos intensified, and she was blown back by a powerful gust of wind, crashing into the large stash of food and cut herself on several shards of the shattered glass. She ignored it and scrambled to her feet and, upon hearing his wavering breathing, the grunts and snarls, she grabbed her own water and heaved it at Aang, dousing him.

Instantly, before she could register what was happening and, thus, react, Aang appeared on his feet, body moving and responding; the water she used to douse him emanated off him like a hazy mist before it thickened into a river that flowed around him and spun faster and faster, sounding like a hurricane, coalescing with the other water from the former firewhiskey.

The hazy look in his eyes made her realize that she was going to die.

"Aang!" Katara screamed in panic, trying to wrench control of the water away from him, but his grip was so much stronger than hers.

There was no time to try to summon other water to her. It was too late; it happened so fast—too fast!

The flow of water surged at her like a flood, sharpening into dozens of ice spikes the length of her arms, and Katara's eyes slammed shut, body tensing in inevitable connection, shoulders curling in on themselves.

Nothing happened except a faint gust of wind lapping across her face.

After another tentative moment, her eyes opened hesitantly, and she gulped at the shimmering ice spikes a finger's length from impaling her face. "Aang?" she called out, voice trembling.

The ice shards vanished instantly into water, which dropped to the ground to create a large puddle soaking the ground. Aang stared at her in realization, horrified, before he averted his gaze, body tense and tight, glimmering with sweat, muscles spasming.

"Sorry," Aang mumbled, looking contrite.

She swallowed, trying to calm her racing heart. "It's okay," she assured, holding a hand to her chest. "I probably would have done the same thing."

Aang glanced at her, doubtful, but said nothing.

"I probably wouldn't have aimed for the face, though," she continued, laughing slightly to soothe and ease the tension and awkwardness she felt. "Maybe no spikes, either."

Silence.

"It's almost morning, so you know," Katara notified, trying to get him to speak. "You can start searching again. Do you feel better now?" She winced at the stupid question. "I mean, do you feel rested? It will make it easier."

Silence.

Katara released a trembling breath and nodded, smiling sadly. "I'll go. Just let us know if you need anything."

She reached the tent's flap when Aang's tentative voice, so different from earlier and so resembling that boy, reached her: "Was anyone hurt?"

"No," she assured, whirling back around with what she hoped was a kind, soothing smile. It used to be so much easier when he was a boy. "I got scratched by some of the broken glass, but it's okay. Everyone's fine."

Aang looked at Azula's body, unharmed from his nightmare. "I almost destroyed the Southern Temple during a nightmare one time."

Katara approached slowly and subtly grabbed some of the water from the puddle and healed the cuts on her hands and elbows. "The Southern Air Temple?"

"Yes."

"But you didn't destroy it," she reminded. "You woke up and- "

He glanced at her, face blank and eyes dim. "No, I almost toppled the whole mountain—I destroyed a large portion. I had to restart all my restoration efforts. It took months to repair everything when I had already restored most of the temple before that." He brushed the back of his fingers over Azula's cheek. "The things you spend the most time working on are ruined most easily."

Katara sat across from him, away from the furs. "That's because the best things are the most fragile things."

"I killed her."

She tensed and looked at Aang, shaking her head deliberately. "No, Ozai killed her- "

"That was my nightmare," Aang clarified, looking away, distant but haunted. "I killed everyone; I killed all of Air, my entire race and home; I killed Gyatso, my father; and I killed Azula, my Mother of Air. I held the power of the world in my hands and touched all of them, destroying each instantly, leaving no presence or memory. All that was left was me—alone forever, as always. I did kill her; I killed all of them. I've always known it, deep down."

Amazed and overwhelmed that he was being so open with her, Katara hesitated and, to buy time, and unable to help herself, her eyes roamed Azula's spirit-less body; Aang had done an excellent job healing her—there was not even a blemish on her. She inhaled slowly and shook her head. "I don't think you killed them, Aang. Sozin killed Air and Gyatso, and Ozai killed Azula."

He glanced at her with heavy eyes. "She died saving me. Ozai shot lightning at me, and I was too concerned with Appa to react in time. But Azula reacted—she died for it."

Katara was eerily reminded of Zuko's sacrifice for her during his Agni Kai with Azula all those years ago. "You're going to get her back- "

"She shouldn't have," Aang whispered. "She should have let me die."

Her eyes bulged, and her breathing increased. "What? No, Aang- "

"I'm tired of Aang," he intoned, gray eyes ancient, looking as old as the world. "I want Aang to be over; I want him to be done. I'm not ready, but I want it. I've done it before. When Sozin left Roku to die on that volcano, he could have entered The Avatar State and healed himself, but he didn't; he could have pulled the poisonous gas out of his lungs with airbending and traveled to the North for further healing, but he didn't. He only lived 70 years and chose to die when he could have lived. He was tired then, and I'm tired now. He gave this burden to me, but I gave it to myself. I always give myself my own burdens; I was tired then, and I'm tired now."

Katara heard her own heartbeat and tried to remain calm and make sense of what he was saying, but his intelligence was so far beyond her; it felt impossible to keep up! She could keep up and follow along with The Avatar, transcendent and genius, when he was a boy but not when he was a man. "Aang, I know it's hard, but things will get better."

"I will never make things better. I'm not sure I ever have."

"Do you hear yourself?" she demanded, appalled. "You ended the Great War!"

"I gave us a brief break. This is a continuance of the Great War—the Greater War. I didn't stop it; I can't stop it. I make it worse. Aang shouldn't reign; another Avatar should. I should pass into Water and let him do a better job than me."

She inhaled slowly and steeled herself. "You don't believe that. You may think it, but you don't believe it, and belief is what matters, Aang. I believed The Avatar would return one day, and I was right; I believed you would save the world, and I was right; I believe you're going to do it again and stop Dark and Ozai, and I'm going to be right."

Aang bowed his head. "I don't have belief. My belief died with my race."

"But you can have belief again. You have a family to help and be there for and with you."

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say.

Aang's gaze snapped to her, face so different—so mature and strong—from that boyish joy he once held; there was no cuteness in his features anymore. There was only a terrible beauty enhanced by something hard and jaded etched into his face, instead, reminding her, unfortunately, of Ozai himself when she saw him. Those gray eyes once lively and warm were dim but ferocious, wild with a chilling intensity that she had never seen before, not even in Hama, Zhao, or Azula during the War. She had seen Aang devastated and angry, eyes swimming with tears and memories, but she had never seen him hateful with cold, glacial eyes; she realized she had, maybe, never looked deeper as she should have. Maybe there were signs beneath the exterior; maybe there were cracks in the façade of a joyful boy who lost his entire world, race, love, and understanding.

"You have a family, not me," Aang whispered, looking past her. "That's what you never understood. You could say I was part of your family, but I wasn't—because it's not the family I want. You have to want your family. And I want my family more than you can imagine, but I don't have my family; I don't have my home; I don't have my race; I don't have my time; I don't have my love."

Katara sagged. "I'm sorry I never understood that."

"You couldn't have," he muttered, but it didn't make her feel better. "I'm grateful for everything you did. The only reason I survived was you being you, you being there, and you loving me as you could. You helped me more than you know, but you couldn't help me all the way."

"I wish I could have helped you all the way," Katara whispered.

"Yeah," Aang agreed with a grunt.

Her eyes darted to Azula's body. "What about her? Can she help you?"

A tightness entered his large frame. "She has a lot. But she can't help me all the way, either, but I really want her to. But what I want isn't possible."

"What do you want?"

"I want a family with her," he confessed, surprising her, and Katara wondered how it was possible that she knew he meant it and understood that Azula could actually help him.

She had seen Azula at her worst in the War, mad and deranged, hostile and cruel, but she realized she had never seen Aang at his worst like she thought she had. For how deranged Azula had been, Aang could be more deranged; for how hostile and cruel Azula had been, Aang could be so much more hostile and cruel; for how furious she thought Zuko was, Aang could be so enraged to break the world; for how hateful Hama was, Aang's hate was an expanding and growing ocean that would drown the world while Hama's was a pitiful pond next to Aang's; for all of Ozai's cruelty and close-minded perception, Aang could be more cruel and more close-minded in his perception.

However, against all odds, Azula came back from her madness, and she believed Aang would, too, even with Azula's help, possibly, despite how impossible it seemed.

If only Aang would believe in himself.

"Will you let yourself have it?" she asked softly, trying to maintain her strength in watching his hard face. Where was that boy she loved?"

Aang's gray eyes thawed when they roamed Azula's body. "This isn't only about me," he said vaguely after several moments. "This is about Air, too; it's more about Air than me."

"What does that mean?"

His eyes squeezed shut as several tears spilled down his cheeks. "It doesn't matter—because it may all be pointless. I'm running out of time. I don't know if I'll be able to find her. There's so much to search. It's like trying to find the smallest cloud amongst the eternity of the sky—impossible."

"You can do it," Katara encouraged. "You will do it. You have the habit of doing the impossible. You beat the Fire Nation when you were twelve. You'll find her."

Aang swallowed. "Do you think she wants to be found?"

Katara blinked, realizing what he was asking. "I think she would accept either possibility—staying in her death or staying in her life. Go find her, Aang—bring her back."

She never thought she would advocate for Azula, but the world was crazy. It had been crazy for a long time, and she was not the first to realize it and experience its craziness.

"And you'll stay?" he asked, voice trembling.

"You don't have a family, but you have friends, and we're going to help you and be there for you," Katara assured, smiling gently. "No one's going anywhere."

Although she didn't understand it, Aang's face brightened slightly, and the hint of a smile curved across his lips. "Air's all about friendship."

Katara felt deeply ashamed that she never knew that fact. Had Aang tried to tell her that during the Great War? "And the world needs as much of Air as it can get," she encouraged.

Aang's smile grew, and a faint light appeared in his dim eyes. "It does."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Azula's eyes roamed Gyatso in awe, cataloging his appearance, memorizing him; she had never imagined she would meet Aang's father. She tried to find the words to say, to greet the man she had heard so much about and whom she admired greatly, but there was nothing but a void in her mind.

Gyatso grinned. "Burned tongue?" he quipped.

She remembered her honor and bowed. "It is an honor, Father."

His head tilted. "You call me your father?"

"You are a better father than my father. You raised Aang, who is the greatest man I have ever encountered. And it is Fire's tradition, as you said. I love Aang, and you are his father. Thus, you are my father. Aang speaks of you with such love, awe, and respect. He says you are the best of Air, and I love Air. It is an honor to meet you."

Gyatso's gray eyes—so like Aang's eyes—brightened. "You love Air?"

Azula nodded with enthusiasm. "Yes. Its wisdom is transcendent. I spent time at the Eastern Temple and read as much as I could from the library. With how far back Air's knowledge stretches, they seem like the first Race. When I read those scrolls, it was as if Life spoke to me, unspeakably ancient, massive, serene, and consistent—the voice of unity and intelligence I never imagined, even in The Avatar. It taught me that releasing my ideas about the world, facilitated by a most limited perception, and abiding by What Is leads to freedom, and it has. I understand. It is most difficult to understand the scrolls, which possess such depths- "

"The only way to absorb Air's wisdom is to realize that the scrolls don't hold the answers," Gyatso interrupted, and she stared at him incomprehensibly. What he said made no sense. "The murals don't hold the answers; the frescoes don't; the statues don't. Nothing external holds the answers. The external teaches nothing. What Air's wisdom points to is not something to learn; it's something to feel—because it's already inside you. You must become aware of the internal. Look inward rather than outward. That is freedom's source because, once you align with your inward guidance, you align with What Is."

Azula stared at him in amazement, feeling awed by speaking with someone so wise, one of the old Air Nomads, someone Aang loved fiercely and passionately. "You are everything Aang says you are."

"And you are everything I know you are."

She smiled at his flattery. "It is too bad you never taught Aang the amorous arts. You would have been an excellent teacher."

"And him an excellent pupil."

A laugh escaped her. "And I an excellent participant to guide him."

"You may need to guide him in understanding Air."

She blinked, stunned. "I believe it is clear how much I do not understand about Air. I do not understand as well as I thought."

Gyatso laughed. "Don't worry. Many wise monks and nuns decades older than you reached the same conclusion."

"Much of my understanding about everything was wrong, I suppose," Azula considered. "I thought my time would be longer. I thought I had so many more things to achieve and accomplish."

"There were many more things I wished to undertake," Gyatso replied. "We all think our understanding clear and cohesive but analysis and honesty challenges all we do and think. I wanted to run away with Aang, but that wasn't my path."

Azula's eyes closed at such painful knowledge. "I wish you could have run away with him," she whispered. "He needed you; he needs you still. He misses you profoundly. He loves you."

"He loves you, as well."

She shook her head. "No, it is different- "

"Yes, but its nature of friendship and unity is the same."

Azula could not remember the last time she had ever felt so intimidated intellectually by someone in her life besides Aang himself when he mentioned Avatar things. Possibly Father or Mother when she was a child and adolescent—but it had been a long time. "I do not follow," she said, ashamed.

"Air teaches that love is different," Gyatso explained with kind patience. "Love is many things. It is sexual, certainly, but there is so much more. A man can lay with a woman he despises, and a woman can lay with a man she despises. That is not love, despite the relations taken between them. The root of all love is friendship. That is why Air traveled once, why our roots are nomadic, so we could experience Life and cultivate friendships, producing love. Unfortunately, we distanced ourselves from our roots, from Air itself."

She understood his observations about love but could not understand his point about Air's roots. "What do you mean? Aang says- "

"Aang was a boy when it happened. He only has the memories of a boy."

Azula sighed. "He idealized Air."

"Yes. Is he your friend?"

"Yes."

"But are you his friend?"

"Yes. My nomination to him as Mother of Air was born of friendship."

"You love him."

"As a friend and more," she confirmed.

Gyatso smiled. "You are of Fire, born of passion, descended from Sozin and, beyond him, Kai. It's a blessing that your understanding is open enough to embraced Air's philosophy and teachings."

Azula hesitated for a moment. "Fire teaches that passion is everything and that, to lack passion, means defeat in all things of Life. But I embraced passion so passionately that I lost myself; passion ruined me, but passion revived me, as well."

Gyatso's gray eyes were mesmerizing as they twinkled brilliantly. "Passion ruined Air, but passion will revive Air. You have found an inward balance."

"I still search for it."

"We all do. We all want to be like The Avatar."

Azula smirked. "Indeed. All that power is enticing beyond words."

Gyatso shook his head, and she realized she misunderstood him completely. "No, we do not want to be The Avatar but be like The Avatar, who embodies the Four Nations, Races, and Elements, including all the properties and traits therein, manifesting the primal balance for which we all yearn and search, even if we search for other things. We should all strive to be our own avatar, mimicking him who guides the way for us—The Avatar. We follow his example, which made the Four Nations as we know them."

Her eyes narrowed. "But the Four Nations are separate. If we are to be our own avatars, should we not all unite into one- "

Gyatso held up a hand. "No," he said simply, adamantly. "Collectively, we will fail always in such an endeavor, but individually, we can succeed. The Four Nations are necessary fundamentally to Balance, and until the Four Nations are restored, peace will be impossible."

"And Vaatu will keep winning," Azula whispered in conclusion.

"Yes."

She blinked. "You know of Vaatu?"

"I'm not as unknowing as you think," he repeated with a secretive smile.

Azula sighed. "And I suppose you will only continue your vague, uncommitted answers if I ask you how you know so much."

"I suppose so."

"Why are you here?" she asked. "You should be in the Gardens. Aang went to the threshold of the Gardens multiple times and said he saw you- "

"He saw Air Nomads," Gyatso corrected with a kind laugh. She liked him a lot—he reminded her of Aang as he was on Ember Island. "But he never went inside to see the generations; he saw the collective of our race before the Attack, but he did not see the last generation of our race. He didn't see individuals. Every Air Nomad who died during and after the Attack, because of Indra's depletion in strength, is here in this place rather than the Gardens because Indra hasn't taken us to the Gardens."

She tried to make sense of it. "What happened to Indra? Why does she neglect her obligations?"

Gyatso hummed. "I don't know."

The memory of Aang's profound irritation that he, The Avatar, could not even sense Indra, even when she was in Ba Sing Se prior to its demise prickled her awareness. "The Attack did weaken her," she realized after several moments. She and Aang had discussed the possibility, but she was unsure either of them had actually committed to the idea, which was the truth clearly. "She cannot fulfill her obligations; she is unable to, literally—like the Ocean and Moon since Avatar Kirku convinced them to sacrifice their immortality without realizing its consequences, and like Agni and Devi now since Aang did something to them."

"He destroyed their bodies," Gyatso supplied. "After you died, he entered The Avatar State and destroyed them instantly; he pulverized them."

Azula stared at him, amazed. "How do you know that? You know too much for someone dead."

Gyatso laughed, and she found comfort in the sound; it was not Aang's laugh, but it possessed something most similar and wonderful. It had been too long since she had heard Aang laugh like that. "I have my ways."

"I would like to share those ways," she insisted. "I would like to have such knowledge."

He smiled. "You have no use for my ways. You will not be here long."

Azula trusted Gyatso, but she felt suspicious. "How do you know?"

"My ways."

She sighed. "You are from whom Aang learned his vague habits."

"Aang learned much of what he knows from me. I'm grateful he wasn't raised by the other Elders—because it could have easily been what happened. I was the least regarded Elder out of all the temples, considered a nuisance. But no one wanted the burden of raising The Avatar and being his mentor. They knew of my friendship with Roku and foisted Aang on me, demanding I raise him. I was happy to do it, but if even a single other monk would have been happy to do the same, I wouldn't have raised Aang. I had no power or persuasion; I had no seniority."

Azula blinked. "Does Aang know that?"

"Not currently."

"Since you think I will return to him shortly, do you want me to tell him?"

Gyatso winked. "I trust whatever your wisdom advises."

"I will have much to tell him," she whispered.

"You will have much more to tell him. He has much to do. Vaatu's threat is imminent."

"It is," Azula agreed.

"And after, he will handle Air's revival."

"And with Air's revival and, thus, Vaatu's defeat, Aang will find Life's sanctity more easily sustainable. Aang says Life is sacred, but he has found it difficult to sustain its sanctity due to Air's absence. He says that Life's sanctity was mired by Air's murder- "

"No," Gyatso said adamantly, surprising her. "That's wrong. He's wrong."

"How so?" she questioned, curious. "You agreed that the lack of balance culminates in Vaatu- "

"But that never mires Life's sanctity. Air teaches that Life is sacred, but Life's sanctity stems from Life's eternal nature and existence, which Air has no will or influence on. Even with Air diminished to such a severe degree that it feels dead, Life remains eternal; Life is eternal. There is a hidden assumption that consumes all of us at points in our lives. We perceive Death as the opposite of Life, but Death is part of Life, incorporated into Life, under its influence and sway. Death answers to Life. Thus, Life can't die because Death can't touch Life. Also, Life can't kill. We kill as mortals, but Life doesn't kill us."

Azula frowned. "But if Death is chained to Life's will, Life does kill us, for it sends Death after us."

"Do you feel killed, Azula?" Gyatso asked. "Do you feel dead?"

She shook her head. "No. I feel alive."

"But you are dead."

A frown turned her lips as she began to realize the depths of his claim. "Yes."

"Because to die is to live; to be dead is to be alive. Death is part of Life. Our understanding of Death is not what it should be; it's not what we think it is. Death is the next stage; we are still here and await rebirth. Death culminates in Life because it brings us to rebirth. Life does not end in Death; Life ends in Life—because there is always Life, even in Death. There exists a divinity in Life, a transcendence that elevates us to something more if we look for it, beckoned by the vague sense of the Eternal—because it's always there, waiting and welcoming."

Azula wondered if Fire had ever, in any generation, striven for such understanding. She would be surprised if they had. "And The Avatar embodies the notion of rebirth. Thus, we must be like The Avatar—our own avatars."

Gyatso sighed. "Yes. Unfortunately, these verities are useless during conflict, which requires a limited understanding and firm allegiance to a single side; conflict requires an immature perception. So much was lost in the Great War, and so much more will be lost. It will be up to Aang and those he trusts, like you, to guide the world out of the horror it has and will experience. You must advise on both sides; you must tell both stories."

"But there was a right and wrong side; there were two sides," Azula pointed out in bemusement. "Fire was, ultimately, in the wrong, even though the intentions were good- "

"There was much wrong on both sides, and both sides tapped into such wrongness to justify their actions, fueled by 'good intentions.' Air fell prey to the same mistakes but on a more severe scale. This wasn't something random; it was built and built for many, many generations, simmering and growing until it erupted. It has many causes, and these causes had causes themselves. You must discern the roots, including the roots that Air severed. Water, Earth, and Fire remained connected to their roots and, thus, will be able to come back from this. But Air did not stay connected. That is why we met our demise."

Azula stared at him, stunned by his calm, knowing declarations. "What are you talking about?"

Gyatso's face withered briefly. "I speak of Air. Many of us perceived our distance as enlightenment, and I did, as well, at first when I was first taught. But that was not enlightenment. There is a right way to live, Azula; only children or fools feel differently. And the right way to live is to live simply. To be enlightened means to live simply and accept What Is, recognizing we are all beholden to something. That is why we lived in our temples, living a simple life close to transcendence, and for many generations, we were humble and knew modesty. But we fell from our grace, descending into pride and arrogance; we ceased moderation. We fell, Azula, and Aang was too young to understand, nonetheless see. I believe firmly that we were worse than the other races—because we stopped caring, deprived ourselves of our innate wonder and awe, and condemned the values we once cherished. We distanced ourselves, promoting arrogance and isolation; we were cruel and forgot the lessons of the Ages, the wisdom accumulated by monks and nuns much more intelligent and insightful than us. When you disregard wisdom, you are lost, and we were lost for a long time—many, many generations. We turned our backs on our inheritance and heritage and severed our roots. Our demise was our fault, not Sozin's. Sozin was merely the instrument of our inevitable, imminent damnation. If not him, it would have been another. Water despised us, especially. I would have wagered that Water would attack us before Fire ever would. If Water had a celestial advantage as obvious as the Great Comet, they would have attacked us in something similar to the Attack."

Azula wavered, dimly remembered Chief Kuhna and Chief Hada's fierce hatred for Air, but shook her head. "No, it was Sozin- "

"You weren't there," Gyatso interrupted. "How do you know?"

"But Aang says- "

"Aang wasn't there, either," he said patiently. "He was a child, and a child is never present fully. He didn't understand. That is my failing. I didn't teach him as diligently as I should have."

"He did perfect Air in his mind, truly," she breathed. "I knew he did, but I never imagined that it was to such an extent- "

"It was his natural instinct to protect himself and his love, but he didn't know what we were or who we had become—how far we fell." Gyatso sighed and memories flashed over his face. "We were held in contempt by the other races. The Attack was only possible if there was a foundation of pre-existing animosity not only of Fire for Air but the other races for Air, too. I guarantee you there was a foundation; I was there. It was a big foundation. Air lost something. Water, Earth, and Fire have something that stabilizes each of them, but Air didn't once we severed our roots; we advanced past that—or so we thought. What we failed to realize is that we needed it. Our distance in pursuit of enlightenment damaged us, damning us in the end. We held no connection with others; we separated children from their parents, the foundation of all connection, which degenerates our capabilities to connect later on—it was painfully obvious in my lifetime. There was something wrong with how Air lived in our final generations. I visited each of the other races and felt something purer and truer with each of them—something I didn't feel with Air."

Azula closed her eyes. "Aang says Air is the best of the races; he says no one compares to Air."

"Again, he was a child. He didn't know what he didn't know—and I'm telling you now that he didn't know everything. We reached heights of understanding and glory far beyond any of the other races, which is what he references to you, but what he doesn't understand is that it provoked more harm than good—such heights and glory provoked our demise. We endorsed living simply, but we robbed ourselves of that connection of living simply; we dismissed the fundamental values that connect. Water has Family; Earth has History; and Fire has Tradition—all of which intermix in connection under the aegis of Freedom. But Air forgot those primal, basic, simple values that are fundamental to existence and which we abided by for thousands of years before our fall; we forgot to be our own avatars, which was one of the ancient ethics. We strove for knowledge at the cost of wisdom, and wisdom, fundamentally in all ways, is foremost to knowledge. Knowledge aids survival, but wisdom aids living, and there isn't a single person in Life, alive or dead, who wants to survive more than live; we all desperately, almost hysterically, want to live, and wisdom teaches us how to live. Wisdom is how and why you live, but we of Air forgot our own wisdom and failed to live it as we once did. Generations—too many generations—ago, we were nomads wandering the world in small units—units who knew values and wisdom—that gave us connection, making friendships everywhere we went, spreading the foundation of Love. We took a misstep—many missteps—somewhere along our journey. We severed our roots, and it became an intentional act."

It was a horrifying truth that made too much sense. None of it surprised Azula, but she felt distant to it, incapable of absorbing completely because she did not want it to be true. "Is what I love about Air even real?" she whispered.

Gyatso smiled and nodded encouragingly. "Of course, it is. It is much more real within you than it was in Air for many of its last generations."

Azula squeezed her eyes shut. "No, no, there is no way that Air would diminish so severely. They possessed such wisdom! I read the scrolls! I studied and analyzed! I asked questions! I strove for answers! I challenged myself and questioned everything before it all made sense, became cohesive and fit together, a foundation that elevated and elevated until it reached the pinnacle of enlightenment and wisdom! And I found all of that and so much more in Air, in those magnificent monks and nuns who possessed beautiful understanding!"

There was a strange but proud look in Gyatso's gray eyes. "We stopped doing all of that."

She flinched. "I do not believe it."

He laughed. "You will. I tell you now that we had many—many—chances to change our path, to correct our direction, but we chose not to because of our arrogance. But Aang will redeem us and revive the true teachings, wisdom, and philosophy of Air that we scorned in the end, and you will help him because your love for Air is genuine and true. We were shameful Air Nomads to the end—to our end. But Aang's progeny, through you, will embody Air as it should be, fulfilling the promises our ancestors made so long ago that we failed to uphold. Air's new lineage, tempered by Fire's will, won't commit such grievous errors."

Azula wavered, blinking rapidly. "How do you know this?" she pleaded, overwhelmed. "No ambiguity. How? Did you see something? Was that it? Fire has a legend that when you die, you see the future. Is that it? Did you see the future?"

Gyatso smiled. "I see why he adores you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Your flattery is as obvious as your attempts at deflection."

He laughed. "You are truly who he needs."

"Did you see the future?"

His laughter faded as he watched her with an unreadable look, even to her trained eyes and extensive experience, reminding her imposingly of Aang, who also could look miraculously impenetrable to her gaze. "Yes."

She leaned forward in amazement and desire. "What did you see?"

"I saw things," Gyatso revealed, voice distant; his gaze was far away. "I saw a life lived and still living. I saw Life as it is; I saw clearly and saw what matters."

"Will Air return?"

"It already has."

"I do not speak of Samir," she stressed, knowing that was to whom he referred. It was the only possible explanation. "She will produce, at most, only two generations of Airbenders on her own, unless she marries one of Aang's sons or Aang himself. Will Air return?"

Gyatso nodded. "It will. It will be different than the Air that I was part of."

Azula knew it was the truth, but she felt saddened by that fact. "Then Aang will never have the peace he so needs," she whispered, forlorn.

She wanted him to have peace. Would he ever have peace?

"You will help be the peace that he needs. Air needs to change; we lost ourselves; we deprived ourselves through isolation and disconnection. We thought we were enlightened, but we were disillusioned. We lost our roots. When your roots are lost, you are lost; nothing makes sense without the knowledge of and connection to your roots. Air is part of Life, one of the four fundamental presences—forces—of the world, and because Air is fundamental to Life, intrinsic in its structure and nature, Air can't die, and it's never been dead. Air will return, and it will never forget its wisdom again; it will forever heed Life's reminders. We will live simply again—as we should. And Aang will be who he should be again."

"What was he like?" Azula wondered, finding herself yearning for such knowledge of Aang, who was once someone most different. "How was he when you knew and loved him?"

"I still love him," Gyatso corrected. "I love him forever. Aang was joyful. He was like all boys; he was wild and mischievous. He was so intelligent. The other Elders were terrified at how quickly he learned and achieved mastery. They knew he was The Avatar, but they didn't understand what that meant."

Azula nodded in understanding, recalling her realizations about Aang being The Avatar. "Many times, he has been born and grown to bear his mantle; many times, he has mastered the bending disciplines; many times, he has reigned over the world and directed the seasons with his hands. And he remembers all of his lives, on some level—there is an instinctive recognition and familiarity that guides him and eases his struggle—while everyone else remembers only one life."

"Yes. But Aang was resilient," Gyatso continued. "He was fun and such a happy, kind, and sweet boy; he loved to laugh and make others laugh; he loved to play. My life was a wonder because he was in my life. He was perfect in so many ways, but I don't mean perfection as in flawless because- "

"Perfection is the enemy of Good," she recited.

Gyatso beamed. "Very good," he commended, and the warm, honest praise and excitement was so different from anything she experienced with Father. "Aang had such rightness. It's the greatest joy of my life to love him. He has lost his way, I know, but I know even more that he will find himself again."

Azula wished she had Gyatso's powerful faith, but unlike Gyatso, she had seen how far Aang had lost his way. "I think he will find himself, but I am unsure he will like what he finds."

"He still must mature," Gyatso acknowledged. "He has matured greatly, but he must understand that maturity doesn't mean being hard and firm; it means having a foundation but retaining the principle of being the leaf in the wind; be loose and flexible while planted firmly. The leaf is firm in the wind, letting the wind take it where it may. The wind doesn't destroy the leaf but guides it to new places. We must all be the leaf, firm and indestructible, as the wind—as Life—guides us. But we can't be rigid and deny the wind, fighting it, which would destroy us. We retain our foundation, our structure that holds us together, like the leaf holds itself together, and we go to new places when the wind blows."

"It does not sound like Air had that in its last years."

He leaned forward with a mischievous smile. "You speak wisely. Do you know what Air lacked predominantly?"

She sighed. "It sounds like many things now."

"Air lacked will."

Azula blinked. "What? No, Air had will- "

"We did not have the will to preserve our roots, which is the essence and foundation on which understanding rests. The other races had the will to preserve their roots, specifically Fire, but Air did not. We deceived ourselves; we damned ourselves. We could not fight; we could not fight ourselves and our impulses; we could not fight our arrogance and, thus, diminishment. We had no will."

She shook her head slowly, trying to understand—it was so much! "No, Air had will. For generations, they willed themselves to find wisdom and pursue the truth- "

"Yes. But we couldn't fight and actively chose not to fight; we couldn't will ourselves to fight as is necessary fundamentally. There came a point when it happened. When you choose not to fight, anything can be done to you—and you can do anything to yourself. We chose not to fight and did everything wrong to ourselves, compromising our ethics and everything our race struggled for thousands of years to achieve. We possessed the precious wisdom of one hundred generations of dedicated monks and insightful nuns. Our diminishment was slow and, thus, reached more dangerous levels than the other races. It happened so slowly that we didn't realize what was happening, and everything seemed normal and healthy, still aligned with wisdom and What Is. We stopped fighting for our understanding; we stopped fighting for our beliefs; we stopped fighting for our wisdom; we stopped fighting to be aligned with What Is." Gyatso leaned forward and clasped her hands in his own; his hands felt real and warm, kind and sturdy. "I realized the truth of my race, which is not what I once thought. We were fundamentally short-sighted and deceived ourselves about human nature. The curse of Air, which provoked our doom, was that we couldn't fight. When the time came, and there were many times, much more than you think, our men were incapable of it compared to the men of Water, Earth, and especially Fire. The luxury of the Air Temples, the notion of pacifism, and our sensibility and sentimentality weakened our race to its doom. We couldn't fight in any way—symbolically, linguistically, philosophically, intellectually, mentally, spiritually, and physically. We damned ourselves. Passivity is necessary until it isn't—and there is always a point when it isn't necessary. We failed. That's the truth, Azula."

Azula stared at him, wondering how Aang would ever regain Air's essence—or would she have to teach him if he, like Gyatso claimed, managed to return her spirit to her body? "Aang says that Air teaches that fighting is not the answer."

Gyatso's face twisted in sadness as he let go of her hands, looking into the mists with sad gray eyes. "He was so young. He is The Avatar, a genius with boundless intelligence, but he was still a boy; he couldn't understand the intricacies and complexities managed and layered across one another since the Air Temples were built. Air teaches that fighting is wrong until it's necessary. Aang interpreted that as: never fight unless you are fighting an enemy. But it has much more depth than that."

Azula nodded, understanding Gyatso's point. "Like in a conversation, like now," she pointed out with slim amusement. "To fight now is wrong, so we can each understand the other's perspective and claims. Once we do that, if no solution is reached, it is necessary to fight."

Gyatso beamed at her. "You are splendid, Azula. It also means that Air's wisdom should not be fought over until it's necessary. We would communicate with each other and compare interpretations of the ancient texts before we would fight for our wisdom, incorporating all interpretations to perfect ourselves and our wisdom. But there came a point when Air stopped fighting at all and in all ways and areas, which actually might be what Aang sensed as a boy and why he tried so hard never to fight physically. He simply misinterpreted what he sensed, an easy thing to. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to teach him as I wanted to—as I needed to. That is my fault alone. I failed as his mentor- "

"No," she denied, disagreeing fervidly. It may be the biggest and deepest disagreement she had ever felt in her life—or second only to when she thought Grandfather ordered Father to murder Zuko, which she tried to prevent in the most inadequate, immature, failing way possible. "No. You did a better job than anyone else could have. You teach me better than anyone ever has, including Aang. You are the perfect mentor. I wish he would resemble you more than he does."

"He must be his own man," Gyatso said after several moments. "I had many failings in my younger days. I was wild and rebellious; I offended all the Elders and was banished several times from the Air Temples, forced to wander the world as a nomad, living Air's roots and making friends everywhere I went."

She stared at him, amazed. "What does it take to be banished from the Air Temples not once but several times?"

Gyatso laughed. "Certain pranks that didn't go over so well. Some of the games I played were too violent, causing some of the other monks to get seriously hurt—a healer from the South had to be brought once or twice to heal the wounds I gave."

"Truly?" she asked, fascinated.

"I would steal the fruit pies and hoard them for myself," he recalled, smiling and shaking his head, looking amazed by his own audacity and boldness. "Then I would sell them in exchange for more fruit pies. I had a whole system for it. I could never have all the fruit pies because I couldn't hide all of them, and people would get suspicious, and by that point, I had a reputation. I would be blamed—rightly so—first out of everyone. So I would hide my stash of fruit pies and always conveniently offer two older fruit pies to someone who had a fresh fruit pie from the kitchen, and the prospect of two fruit pies in one sitting was always enough to win me a fresh fruit pie. I would slowly get rid of my old fruit pies while still getting as many fresh fruit pies as I could while making it look reasonable. Then once I was out of old fruit pies, I would do it all over again."

"How long were you able to keep that up?"

"A couple of years," Gyatso replied. "I never lost my taste for fruit pies. The hardest thing about being banished from the Air Temples each time was losing the fruit pies. It was never the actual banishment and being forced away."

Azula looked at him knowingly. "You sound like Aang."

Gyatso grinned briefly. "It's no wonder him and I always got along so well. Aang made me wilder in my older age. We always brought out the best in each other."

"Do you miss him?"

"I miss him deeply, but I more cherish all that I had with him. He was the best thing to ever happen in my life. He brought me so much joy and delight."

Azula tried to smile. "He misses you, too. You really have no idea—no idea—how much he does."

Gyatso winked. "I think I do."

She sighed. "I will figure out how you know what you know one day."

"I guarantee you will. But I must tell you—I have wanted to speak with you for a long time," Gyatso said with a brilliant smile; it twinkled in the miserable expanse of the place they were trapped. "I owe you many thanks."

She blinked. "Many thanks?"

Gyatso's gray eyes—so like Aang's eyes!—consumed her with genuine gratefulness and warmth. "For loving Aang. You are splendid in not only his eyes but my own. You have my love forever because of it."

Azula inclined her head. "It is my pleasure. He is challenging."

He nodded knowingly. "It's hard to love The Avatar."

She watched him for several moments, feeling a sense of guilt that she betrayed Aang by speaking with Gyatso when it was Aang's deepest, unfulfillable yearning. Aang would give anything—easily kill himself—to speak with Gyatso, but she had the opportunity to speak with Gyatso rather than Aang. She did not deserve the honor—for it was an honor unspeakable.

"How was it hard for you to love him?" she asked quietly. "It is hard to love a man, especially one as great as him, but it is easy to love a boy."

Gyatso hummed. "I knew Roku."

Azula blinked in surprise. "What?"

"I knew The Avatar in his successive lives; I was Roku's friend and Aang's mentor. I loved him in both of his lives. It is hard to love a perfect child, and Aang was as close to perfect for so long. When he ran away, my love was compromised."

She felt absurdly grateful that Aang was not in this place, able to hear Gyatso's painful words. "How long before Sozin's Comet did he run away? He claims it was two months, but I suspect he honestly has no idea."

Gyatso's face shadowed, and his gray eyes dimmed. "Three days."

Azula flinched, never knowing it had been so close. She had always thought it was more likely to be a few weeks, probably around a month, before Sozin's Comet when Aang ran away, not three days; she was grateful Aang did not possess that knowledge. He would hate himself even more. "You blamed him," she observed.

Gyatso sighed. "I never blamed him for running away, but I did blame him briefly for not trusting me. He should have known that I would never let the other Elders separate us. Our love for each other transcends our deaths—Tashi, Pasang, and the others never understood. We were damned fools. Our race fell so far, muted and dull. We were known for embracing wisdom for generations until we stopped—we embraced coin instead for our final generations. But I never wanted to embrace coin; I wanted to embrace Aang and teach him how to embrace the world."

Azula assessed him, seeing his posture; he looked loose and unlike so many of the spirits in this place. "You were going to leave with him," she observed.

Gyatso nodded. "I planned to take him elsewhere and continue his training as he needed, not as the others wanted; I would have taken as much coins as we needed to survive. The others looked at him and saw a god; they looked at him and saw Roku, a mature Avatar; they never saw Aang, not truly. But Aang was a beautiful boy who wanted love and fun; he was sweet, innocent, and free from the burden destined for him. It wasn't enough for the others. They never wanted Aang; they wanted Roku—or Yangchen herself. They didn't want the burden of raising The Avatar; they were unprepared for it. Roku's early death—vastly early death, which I can't stress enough how early his death was- "

"I understand," Azula interrupted. "There are a thousand years per each Avatar Cycle, four lifetimes lived. The Avatar lives, on average, 250 years, but Roku reached only 70 years, stretching the lifetimes of his direct successors in his Avatar Cycle by a severe degree. Aang could possibly live as long as Avatar Kuruk, who lived over half an Avatar Cycle."

She wondered at the short lifespans of Avatar Jinzhai and Avatar Yangchen. She knew Avatar Kyoshi lived over two centuries, around the average lifespan of an Avatar, which meant that Jinzhai and Yangchen likely lived lives equal to Roku's in length or slightly longer. Why did Jinzhai and Yangchen live such short lives in comparison to Kuruk and Kyoshi, their direct successors in their shared Avatar Cycle?

Perhaps Aang would have an idea—if she saw him again.

She did not want to get her hopes up, but Gyatso's assured, calm, and knowing certainty in her seeing Aang stirred her belief.

"You have keen insight," Gyatso praised. "It's a pleasure to experience you; I enjoy you as I know Aang does. You are good for him. But with Roku's early, early death, no one in the world was ready, least of all Air, who was next in The Avatar Cycle. I remember the dread when we heard Roku died. I mourned my friend but anticipated meeting him again in his next life, but everyone else was scared, realizing the pressure of raising The Avatar. They had never given his death due thought as they thought they would never live to see Roku's passing and successor, but it happened all the same."

"And Aang suffered for it," Azula pointed out quietly, remembering Aang telling her how Gyatso was the only one who always loved him and never got mad at him or made him feel bad; he said Gyatso was understanding and calm, never shaken or phased, unlike everyone else.

"It's so clear now looking back," Aang would say, shaking his head and looking off into the distance—at brighter days. "The way they would look at me all the time; there was a look in their eyes; there was a tightness in how they stood, judging me, lecturing me, pressuring me; there were the words they would use, so different from anyone else. They were scared. I see that now. I never questioned the Elders, and I was scared of them, too, but I can't help but wonder if they knew what they were doing. That's considered blasphemy in Air's eyes, but I really can't help but wonder. I wish I knew the truth. Looking back, they did to seem to be making it up as they went along. I really don't think they knew what they were doing."

"They did not know what they were doing," Azula pointed out, watching his reaction.

Gyatso simply nodded in agreement. "And I didn't, either, at first. I was like the others at the beginning. It was a mistake I first made during the early weeks he was in my care. I kept looking for Roku, and while I saw flashes—there was always something that reminded me of my friend, like the light in his eyes, a look on his face, or a reaction to something—I realized Aang was The Avatar in his newest life. Roku was Aang, but Aang wasn't Roku."

Azula shook her head. "That is how Aang describes it. You understand him better than anyone, including me."

Gyatso laughed slightly. "I advised him in one life and raised him in another. He dashed around the Southern Temple naked all the time and would jump off the ledge of the temple every change he got, even when not even a year old—he was genius, so much more than Roku was. I learned to understand him swiftly." Gyatso's face slackened, something indescribable flashing over him. "Which is why I should have foreseen him running away. That is my fault. I should have spoken with him and reassured him sooner. I should have known the other Elders were fools and as unwise as Sozin. However, I was angry at Aang after he ran away; I was angry that he thought so little of me. I suppose it was a child's understanding of his mentor. He could never imagine and understand me as I am. He didn't know I was more than capable of—delighted to—rebel against the High Council; he did not know I was a maverick and considered a dissident by many of the other monks, who had little fondness for me. Really, the only reason why I was ever let back at the Air Temples was due to my friendship with Roku and my airbending, which was stronger than anyone's. I would have taken Aang far away and fought them happily, defeating all of them in combat if necessary. It would have been easy. Violence never scared me; there was always part of me that found something natural in violence."

Azula smirked. "Maverick, indeed."

"There is freedom from violence, which Air endorses and recognizes, but Air refused to acknowledge that there is freedom in violence, as well. The world is built on violence. The Four Nations became the Four Nations because of violence. Violence forges us into who we are and reveals who the Races are; violence defines each of us—though it destroys, too. But in destroying, it culminates in rebirth, part of the natural cycle, whether we like it or not. Air did not like that fact—Air forgot that fact or forced itself to forget it. To live by the sword is to die by the sword, but the fallacy that Air prostrated itself to is that you can live a life without the sword. We thought we could live lives devoid of violence, shutting ourselves off. We thought we purified ourselves, validating our beliefs, but we actually proved our beliefs weak and feeble by refusing to fight for our beliefs, to fight to preserve who we are and our understanding. Remember?"

"I remember," she supplied softly, thinking of his earlier guidance.

"You must have violence, lest violence befall you—it's the way of the world. Air was possessed by misunderstandings and misperceptions, thinking we lived outside of the 'way of the world,' going our own way—but we still lived in the world, which meant we were beholden to the way of the world, as all the Races are. Air progressed so far, but in our progression, we regressed, for regression is the conclusion of progression. And we progressed to our demise. Air's murder was so swift because we didn't manifest our natural violence; we castrated ourselves and damned ourselves. A race of pacifists does nothing but advance their demise, for we were crushed by a strong race who maintained virile fighting power, which is necessary for all things. Without virile fighting power, all other virtues become useless and actively harmful, for they, thus, lack foundation and cohesion—they lack belief by that point. If you are not willing to fight for your virtue, it is not virtue but vice. It was never Sozin's fault that we went extinct; it was our own fault. It was not Sozin who deprived the world of Air; it was Air who deprived the world of Air. It was our fault. We were, ultimately, responsible for our own destruction."

She placed a hand to her forehead, pained. "That makes too much sense, unfortunately. It saddens me."

"I understand," Gyatso soothed. "It's a powerful temptation to understand us as victims, and we were victims, yes—but victims of ourselves and our failures, nothing and no one more. And we lacked the will to see it until it was too late. I fear that, even now, most of my kin don't see the truth, lacking the will to challenge themselves, their perceptions, and their understandings. That is why I find joy in the fact that you yearn to be the Mother of Air, endowing a power in Air that was lacking, which permitted its destruction. You will help endow in Air will."

Azula's closed and exhaled roughly. "I can never tell Aang what you just imparted to me about Air's failings."

Gyatso smiled, though it was dim with grief. "You won't need to. He will learn it soon."

"I am not adequate enough to tell him all this," she hissed, worried. "I wish he could learn it from you directly; he would listen to you, unlike me or anyone else."

For some reason, Gyatso's sudden laughter sounded so powerful in its amusement and knowing. "It will all work out, Azula."

She assessed him. "Will it?" she challenged. "I have no doubts that Aang will defeat Vaatu and my father; I have no doubts victory is his forever—it is his nature. But I have doubts about him. I died for him, and I have no regrets, but I had begun to wonder if I still wanted to be the Mother of Air. He demanded me to prove myself in my genuineness, but I never thought to do the same to him."

Gyatso smiled. "You proved yourself to him by dying, and he proves himself to you by returning you. He knows now that you love him and are genuine, and you know now that he loves you and is genuine."

Azula watched him for several moments and felt a tight smile stretch her face as she shook her head. "No. I do not doubt the existence of his love; I doubt how much is there. I cannot compete against his memory of Air. I will not let our children compete against his memory of his race. They will always fail in his eyes, fail to measure up, fail to be perfect. He would be like my father, and that is abominable to me—that is monstrous. I want to be the Mother of Air, not only because I love him but because I love Air, as well; it is profound and nourishing; it has such depths and delights. However, I am unsure I should want to be the Mother of Air. If he continues on his current path, I will have to withdraw my nomination."

There was a secretive anguish on Gyatso's face, which, instinctively, she knew he would never explain to her. "He will not walk his path much longer," he whispered with a half-hearted wink.

Azula closed her eyes in frustration. "No, you do not know the path he walks. You are not with him and cannot see. He walks the path he does due to your absence; he looks for you everywhere and cannot find you. This path he walks is destructive and has resulted in carnage. The boy you raised became a man capable of things you cannot imagine."

Gyatso's gray eyes, so like Aang's, clouded. "The boy I raised became the man who slaughtered Ba Sing Se."

She stared at him, astonished, too startled for words for long moments. "You know."

"I know," he confessed, looking as old as Aang sometimes looked.

"How? You saw a glimpse of it when you died?"

"Many have joined this place in the past 109 years of Earth and Fire before they were taken by Devi and Agni to the Gardens. But not long ago, millions of spirits appeared at once in this place simultaneously," Gyatso divulged. "It was an onslaught, unlike anything I've seen before, and they all told the same—The Avatar murdered Ba Sing Se."

"I was there in Ba Sing Se with him when it happened," Azula acknowledged. "It is true."

"Appa was lost, and he lost himself," Gyatso whispered, face agonized. "I knew it would happen, but I prayed it wouldn't."

Azula frowned, wondered by his understanding of Aang, which stretched back to his earliest days. "There were signs he would commit that atrocity in his childhood?"

Gyatso shook his head. "No, of course not. He was such a joyful boy, and it grieves me so deeply that he lost his joy."

"Sozin took it from him."

"Things are more complex than that," Gyatso dismissed, and Azula respected him even more. "Aang's kindness was so great, but with great kindness comes great cruelty. I thought Aang would be different; I thought he would only be kind and never cruel; I thought the wisdom of the Ages would not apply to him. I knew he was The Avatar, which meant he had the capacity for wrath unimaginable, but I never thought him capable of fulfilling that capacity."

Trying to spare him from thinking about Aang murdering Ba Sing Se, she changed the subject. "What else did you see? You saw the expanse of the Great War?"

"I saw some things."

"But you foresaw the Great War before you died," she recalled, remembering Chief Kuhna's recollection; she did not doubt it. "You went to the South and warned Chief Kuhna of its imminence- "

Gyatso's face flickered with incredulity. "I foresaw the Great War, yes—all the Elders of the temples did. But I didn't go to the South. I tried to speak with the other Elders about evacuating the Southern Temple because I knew something was imminent. Other monks had felt the same, but the Elders refused. I never left the temple. I died there."

Azula felt mystified. "You did not travel to the South in an attempt to search for Aang after he ran away?"

"The thought occurred to me, but I never acted on it; I thought it more likely he would return to the temple than I would miraculously find him. Why?"

"What?" she exclaimed in painful incomprehension. "Chief Kuhna said Gyatso, who is you, visited him and warned him- "

"That was not me," Gyatso denied instantly, and Azula believed him—but she also believed Chief Kuhna.

Who was the other Gyatso?

"Was there another Gyatso at the Southern Temple?" she asked, knowing it was the only plausible explanation. But Aang would have divulged such a thing if there were two—two!—Gyatsos, right?

Gyatso frowned, looking as confused as she felt—and looked, certainly. "No."

The bewilderment and yearning for an answer gnawed at her. "There must be an explanation- "

Something flashed—a realization—over Gyatso's face as he chuckled. "He has always been so obvious with his aliases. It's like he wants someone to figure out his identity, even when he claims he hates himself. Simultaneously, he wants recognition of himself from others while denying his nature and, thus, identity."

Azula stared at him, bemused. "Who are you talking about? You know the other Gyatso?"

"That doesn't matter," Gyatso dismissed with a warm smile as he looked around and nodded; his eyes closed for several moments before he stood to his feet and approached her. She stood up, as well, as he laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed kindly; it felt real and true. "Air will return; it has already begun. Momentum will build until Air appears stronger than it has ever been, tempered from its evasive fancies by Fire's will. Air will return to its roots through your children."

Azula tilted her head. "You seem awfully sure for having glimpsed glimpses."

"I'm sure."

"How destructive will this new war with my father be?"

"You know the answer to that," Gyatso said, eyes crinkling. "You know intimately the two foremost participants in this war—your husband and your father."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Aang and I are not married."

"Not yet," Gyatso corrected, grinning with sly mischief, and he looked so much like Aang that Azula felt her breathing sputter in her chest—if she even was breathing.

"Does he find peace?" she asked, something desperate rising inside her. "Will he ever have it?"

Gyatso was quiet for several moments, only staring at her. "It will take him longer than he likes, and it will take much from him to feel it, but he will have peace."

A grateful relief permeated through her. "That is all I want for him."

Suddenly, the world shuddered around them, and Azula felt an overwhelming presence saturate around them; it was familiar and intimate.

It was Aang.

Gyatso smiled, and his eyes were closed; he basked in feeling his son once again. "He comes for you."

Azula gazed back at him with a sad smile. "I wonder if I should divulge that I saw you and spoke with you."

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid he'd kill himself or wound himself as grievously as I was wounded to be stuck in limbo like this to have the chance to speak with you."

Gyatso's smile became frayed and morose. "Tell Aang what your wisdom instructs."

"I lack much wisdom."

"You have far more than most," he commended and bowed in perfect Fire Nation form. "You are worthy of all that Air offers and gives. You have my pride and love forever, Daughter."

Azula bowed back, feeling the emotions swell inside her. How was it possible she felt more connected to Gyatso after having known him so shortly than she felt connected to Father, who she had known her entire life? She approached him, memorizing his face and build, the way he presented himself so warmly and kindly, none of which were deceptions, and embraced him powerfully, feeling him against her.

"You are a pleasure to experience, Father," she breathed against him, squeezing to remember. "Thank you."

"Thank you, Azula," Gyatso whispered, hugging her back, and the weight of his arms was so peculiar but wonderful. Father had never hugged her, and Uncle had hugged her several times when she was a young girl, but Gyatso was different. She would remember him forever. "You love Aang, and that is all I've ever wanted. Thank you for loving him."

She laughed slightly, surprised by the emotions surging inside her. "Thank you for loving him. I love him because you loved him—you shaped him into him."

Gyatso pulled back and looked down at her with mischievous fondness; it reminded her painfully of how Aang was on Ember Island. It had been too long since she had seen him joyful and free; it had been far too long since she had seen him be himself. "And you will finish what I started," he observed, smiling. "It's the natural cycle. A father loves his son and prepares his son for his journey, which culminates in meeting his wife and enjoying her love. A father's love leads to a wife's love."

"And a mother's love," she added idly, thinking of Mother. She missed her deeply and regretted many things.

"Yes. I will love Aang forever, but he has so much more love to give than only for me and Air. Give him time."

Azula felt somber and rested the side of her head against Gyatso's shoulder; he was taller than her but not as tall as Aang. "I am tired of giving him time," Azula whispered, eyes tracing the mist around them, looking for one last sign of those airbending children, but there was no one but her and Gyatso. "It has been a year since we met. I began loving him swiftly after we met. He is loveable profoundly."

All the evidence was there when she looked back with a clear mind.

"He loves you," Gyatso assured. "His search for you now verifies it."

She nodded but sighed. "Yes, but he is not ready to love me. He wants only Air."

Gyatso squeezed her one last time before he pulled back and placed his hands on her shoulders; his gray eyes were riveted on her face, and she could not look away. "Your nature is persistence. You must wait and be patient; give him time. It will be painful." His hands flexed, fingers curling into her shoulders, gripping with insistence. "Don't give up on him, Azula, no matter what happens or how cruel his actions may appear. I never will. You must not, either."

Azula realized painfully that she loved Gyatso. Why could she not bring such a wonderful man and mind back with her? She knew Aang asked himself the same painful question. "I wish you could speak with him—for both of your sakes."

Gyatso stilled, and his face shuddered; there was an intense longing and lament in his features—along with a painful knowledge. "His journey isn't over, and he has much to learn and realize. But you must be there for him along the way as you have. Help him as his wife and friend."

"I will not give up on him," Azula vowed.

The world closed around her, lashing out and warping, and the power—Aang's power—was unbelievable.

"Don't worry, Azula," Gyatso called out, voice diminishing as she felt herself being pulled away, back into the Mortal Realm. "Aang will see me soon."

Panic gripped her, and she tried to fight to return to Gyatso, to demand answers, to know to what he alluded, but the grip—Aang's grip—was too strong, despite her thrashing and demands to momentarily release her. "He will die?" she cried out, voice shrill and explosive as Gyatso diminished in the vast distance separating them; she stared out at him desperately. "Tell me!"

Gyatso only smiled, but there was something indescribably ancient and sad in his face, rooted in his gray eyes, so like Aang's. "Part of him will."

Azula woke in her body with a choked gasp, rising instinctively before she crashed back down—her body felt weak and foreign to her! She recognized herself in her body, feeling its rightness before she jerked and turned to her right and froze.

Stunned gray eyes stared back at her, but they weren't Gyatso's gray eyes because the shade was different; they were gray eyes familiar intimately to her.

Aang stared at her, speechless, and she felt trapped in a similar state. Sweat dripped down Aang's face, and she knew instantly that he had worked himself to exhaustion by the state of his body; she also knew instantly that much time had passed since her death—over a month, according to the thick growth of hair on Aang's head and face since, the last time she saw him, all his hair was left a razed stubble, having been scorched by Agni. And by the quiver of and pangs in her body, she needed to eat and drink as soon as possible.

She tried to smile. "Burned tongue?" she quipped and swore she heard Gyatso's distant laughter in her ears.

He scrambled toward her, bounding across the distance with trembling limbs, and crashed into her, tackling her. Azula was taken aback and could do nothing but embrace him in return, hands sliding across the sweaty expanse of his flushed back.

"You're back, you're back," Aang chanted, squeezing her so tightly, holding her with such tender care and fierce affection that she swallowed, feeling a weight settle in her throat. "You're here; Azula, you're here."

He pulled back and stared down at her with an awed, overjoyed face, stretching in jubilation, gray eyes wondered and consuming, alight with giddy delight, and she felt breathless at the look on his face. No one had ever looked so happy to see her in her memory—so elated and relieved, powerful in intensity and true in depth.

Aang embraced her tightly again, refusing to let go; he cherished the fact that she was alive and there with him—no one had ever done that before besides Mother and Zuko. But this was different. He was consumed by powerful pleasure and dominant relief in the fact that she was alive, revealing how much he had missed her during her death. He simply held her and basked in holding her, grateful and in awe, the joyful relief on his face as powerful as her yearning to tell him about Gyatso and how wonderful Gyatso is.

Of course, she realized instantly there was an audience when a familiar snort reached her eyes. "Shit, Twinkletoes—she just started breathing again for real. Give her some space, Airbender!"

He rolled off her with a reluctant grimace. "Sorry."

Azula missed his embrace but finally noticed Toph standing in entrance to a tent with a relieved expression on her face. "Long time no feel, Lightning Psycho! At least now I know your heart isn't always normal and steady."

She smirked and struggled to her feet, but since her body felt too weak and unsteady, she settled for sitting—in the lotus position she had shared with Gyatso in that place in the Immortal Realm. "It sounds like you missed me."

Toph shrugged. "Not really. I just missed being able to laugh with someone at Twinkletoes behind his back."

"Now it is a sweaty back," Azula observed, wiping Aang's sweat off her hands onto the furs underneath her. "How long has it been?"

"Too long," Aang said immediately, staring at her like she was a miracle to behold; his eyes did not leave her body, roaming her face, riveted in overwhelmed relief.

Even when she looked back at Toph, she felt Aang's eyes on her, unabashed to stare at her. "I am relieved you did not bleed out in the forest and, thus, join me in my wanderings."

Toph's brows rose. "You really do care, don't you?"

She shrugged slightly, lips pulling into a smirk. "I always need someone inferior to myself in my company. Aang will never suffice as he is exceptional. But—what did you call yourself during the fight?—a mere 'disowned noble girl' will suffice as a princess's timid companion."

A grin split across Toph's face as she laughed. "Shit. It's so good to have you back—never thought I'd say that."

"Never thought I would hear it."

Toph glanced at Aang. "I guess I'll go tell everyone that you're back- "

Her brows rose. "Everyone?"

"Yep. Twinkletoes ordered me to drag your brother off that throne of his all the way back here and pick up some strays while I'm at it, and I delivered."

Azula glanced at Aang, who merely stared back with a hungry look on his face. However, the hunger on his face was unlike anything she had ever seen before; it was different from the chilling hunger that Father possessed often. The hunger on Aang's face—and in his beautiful eyes—stirred something inside her, something thrilling and intrigued; it made her feel a hunger that she had never experienced before. "How long was I gone? For such a trip to happen, it must be- "

"Four weeks," he notified quietly.

Toph cleared her throat. "I'm leaving now. Control yourself, Twinkletoes. I'm afraid your heart's going to explode."

Aang flinched. "No hearts are exploding."

By the haunted look on his face, she realized that her heart must have exploded from Father's lightning strike. She looked down at herself, taking in the Air Nomad wear, and glanced at Aang's obvious bare chest. "Is my top the remains of your upper garb?"

His gray eyes darkened. "I told Toph to get you some clothes, but I don't think she did. I forgot about that. I was doing other things."

Toph paused as she walked out. "Huh. I did forget about that. But judging by your heartbeat, Twinkletoes, she looks fine."

Azula watched Toph walk out of the tent before she smirked and raised her arms, feeling the breeze connect to her flesh from the holes and gashes in parts of the garb. "Is this what Air meant about freeing?" She turned to face Aang, who, to her surprise, was much closer than previously, still staring at her with that hunger on his face—but it was more intense. "It certainly feels- "

In one motion, Aang kneeled next to her and pulled her face to his, molding his lips against hers, kissing her.

She stiffened in shock for several moments until she began to respond, lips moving with and against his. But she quickly pulled back, though her body hated her for it. "What are you- "

He kissed her again, lips insistent and enticing, followed by his tongue, probing and tasting, and Azula felt her restraint crumble as her willingness and desire swelled within her. She embraced him, breasts pressed against his chest, feeling the passion possess her, arousing her with its presence, guided by Aang's dedicated, fiery touch.

However, when his hands brushed up her body and landed on her breasts, kneading with his fingers, he began to grab at her—technically, his—upper garment and began to tug it upward. Realizing the conclusion of his actions, she half-heartedly pushed him off her. "Aang, remember the conclusion of your actions- "

Aang's gray eyes were stormy with conviction, passion, and desire. "I know the conclusion of my actions. I know you experienced terrors in the Immortal Realm. I'm sorry for that. But while you experienced terrors in the Immortal Realm, I experienced terrors here—because I realized my life without you is a terror."

When he pulled her to him again and kissed her, her resistance was minimal. However, between his fervent kisses, which she felt herself respond to more and more, she managed to say: "Aang, I need… to tell… you… some… something."

Aang didn't stop, pressing his lips to her cheeks, her temples, her forehead, her neck; he traveled everywhere, and she yearned for more. "After," he whispered, gray eyes locked onto hers, revealing the depths therein.

Azula nodded, and upon realizing that Aang was serious, she participated enthusiastically, following her instincts. Clothes were pulled off, passion clouded the air, arousing her senses, fueling the fire she felt in her body, the sheer warmth that churned in anticipation, rising and rising until it was everywhere, leaving a sizzling trail of pleasure as it followed Aang's hands and lips.

He laid her on the furs and disrobed her, leaving her bare to his eyes—and her own. Both stopped as she gazed down at the scar on her chest, given to her by Father—a scar she had spared Aang. She stared incomprehensibly at it, for she knew her body; she was familiar with her body, but what she saw was not her body as she knew and understood it—it was something wrong. She had seen her breasts countless times, an everyday occurrence, and she never considered them unforgettable—perhaps men found her breasts unforgettable, but she did not, for they were natural parts of her and, thus, forgettable, never paid conscious mind to.

But now her breasts were unforgettable, and she felt unsure they would ever return to their forgettable standard. Her left breast did not look like its twin. Its depth was the same, but the surface, from the nipple to the valley in the middle of her chest, was gnarled, a mass of webbed, mangled scar tissue, some deeper than other parts. It swept across the swollen, curving expanse of her breast, sporadic in its layout, not consistent, arching and stretching like fingertips in some areas, but it was there forever, a symbol of identification.

Father left his mark on her heart and in her heart. However, he had broken her heart years ago, and she felt only unsettled by the new appearance, not what it represented.

Aang leaned down and kissed the scar. "I'm sorry," he whispered, fingers light on her other breast as his lips ghosted over the scar with tenderness. "I'm so sorry."

Azula found herself incapable of words, only sighs and moans as he continued his amorous performance. She grasped at him, pulling him closer to her until the space between their bodies was minimal but thriving, and as his hands gripped her legs, the anticipation built until the warmth—the pleasurable heat—surged through her in an onslaught.

They performed a rhythmic dance almost similar to a bending spar, but it was unlike any bending she had ever encountered; it was better! It was splendid and satisfying! The fire roared and thrashed, demanding acknowledgement and eruption, rising and rising, like a presence in her mind, making three of them present—herself, Aang, and that fire.

When her eyes locked onto Aang's gray eyes during the recurring greeting of their hips, she saw that same fire in his eyes, dark like a bellowing thunderstorm, and it bonded them together. It was the shared fire between a man and woman that Air recognized in identifying marriage from intercourse, and she understood it—she believed it because she felt it!

The fire became too much, like Sozin's Comet, and it overwhelmed her, exploding through her, and she could not contain it, body surrendering to the pleasure pulsating through her, overwhelming all thoughts and sensations except the pleasure, thus increasing the pleasure. She let it take her, billowing through her like a tide over the blackened sand scorched by pleasure, and the wave hit her, crashing into and over her, sweeping over the sand to reveal the pristine brilliance beneath. Crevices in her mind opened, provoked by the seeding of that fire, which raised her awareness of herself.

Suddenly, a new fire scorched through her in bursts of lightning for several long moments until Aang collapsed on top of her before he rolled over, falling to her side with an undignified slump; his breathing echoed in her ears—along with her heartbeat. She laid there for a long time, adjusting to the waves of what she experienced, not only in her body but her mind.

It was not only the pleasure that stole her breath.

She was married now. In Air's eyes, she and Aang were married. Aang, knowing what he was doing, married her; he accepted her nomination and chose her as the Mother of Air.

It did not make sense, particularly so suddenly after he had been adamant against her, but her death must have changed things; it had certainly changed things on her end. But it's source was clear—Aang was willing to look past her blood, which held its essence and primacy in Sozin; he was willing to overlook the memory she would tie to Air forever as the Mother of Air.

Gyatso was right—Aang proved himself to her. He had brought her back, fought the depths of exhaustion for a month, and accepted her nomination as Mother of Air. He realized that she was genuine in her affection and true in her commitment. However, that had not been her aim; her aim had been to save his life, not extend her own or facilitate her place as Mother of Air.

Her sacrifice for him was born of love, and Aang's exertion for her in the resulting month to return her spirit to her body was born of love.

Gyatso was right—they proved themselves to each other. Gyatso was right—Aang proved himself to her when she had begun to doubt if she should be Mother of Air. She knew there would be issues and concerns, but after meeting Gyatso, speaking with him, knowing him, and coming to understand him, she held confidence that things would work out. Gyatso had seen the future and vowed its beauty and peace; his serene pride in Aang and herself told her everything she needed to know.

However, she knew she would have to tell, describe, and explain everything Gyatso told her about Air to Aang, which would be a grueling and months-long conversation and process, for he needed to understand that Air was not as he thought; the race he knew and loved was not the race that existed; the race he perfected in his mind was a grainy image born of a child's perception and desperation to remember simplistically rather than with truth, understanding, and complexity.

She hoped she was up for the task, which might be the most intensive of her life—describing Air's severe failings when Aang believed them perfect and serene, renowned and wise. But the Air that Gyatso described to her in their final generations did not sound wise in the slightest; they sounded like fools, and it made too much horrifying sense. There had always been a void in her mind when ruminating on and considering Air, but Gyatso had provided the final pieces of knowledge and wisdom for her to incorporate into her needed understanding of Air.

In their final generations, Air had been renowned, indeed, but only in passivity and apathy, not wisdom or spirit.

She still remembered Chief Kuhna and Chief Hada's vitriol for Air. But who was the 'Gyatso' who visited them? Why did Gyatso seem to realize who the imposter was before he dismissed his identity, saying the imposter did not matter?

The mere thought of Gyatso produced a smile as she laughed suddenly. "He said we would be married—I should have foreseen it. You learned your sly mischief from him—also your vagueness."

When Aang did not reply, she realized that he waited for her explanation of her strange declaration. Feeling nervous and excited simultaneously because it was extraordinary news, and he would likely resent that she was given the chance to speak to Gyatso, she gathered her courage.

"Aang, when I was in that place in the Immortal Realm, I saw Gyatso; I met him. He is wonderful. I know why you love him; I love him, as well."

Silence.

Azula dared glance at Aang, but sighed when she realized he was out of it, cast into slumber; his breathing was deep and sound, unaware of anything she had said.

She watched him for a long time, memorizing his face, so different yet the same from the last time she saw him. She should exit and let him rest, greet Zuko and Mother who were certainly outside the tent—and likely Uncle, perhaps. She should eat and drink something as her body quivered from lack of sustenance, but she simply laid there. Though her body had been dormant for over a month during her death, her body was overwhelmed by the passionate energy harnessed to enjoy their relations—the only scarce energy that had been inside her body after over a month of nothingness and the worst lethargy than she had ever known. She was vacant of energy, and she laid back, spent, letting the slumber seize her in its gentle but consuming embrace.

She was married—the Mother of Air.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"I don't know what to expect when she wakes up," Ty Lee said, hugging her knees, head placed on her resting hands, features pulled into a sad frown. "I mean, do you think she'll shoot lightning at us?"

Zuko sighed heavily, looking away from where the sun reflected off the lake; it was much bigger than previously. Katara had gathered some water from small streams in the forest that hadn't been destroyed during Aang's fight with Father, Agni, Devi, and Vaatu, giving them all a reliable water source.

"I don't know," he whispered, trailing off. Honestly, he felt anxious and worn because it had almost been a month, and Aang hadn't found Azula yet. It spelled doom and disaster; it spelled an inevitability that he had been denying himself, and he could no longer ignore it. He was preparing himself for his sister being lost to the Gardens, but he wouldn't tell anyone that, least of all Mother, who held such powerful hope and faith, despite the mounting, glaring obvious.

Time was dangerously close to Azula's expiration.

"I'm waiting for lightning to fry us," Mai commented dryly, twirling her shuriken between her fingers. "We always knew this would happen."

Ty Lee's eyes were wide. "I didn't."

"I did. Time's ticking for her to get back, and our times start ticking when she gets back."

Zuko's brow rose. "You seem awfully sure."

Mai shrugged. "I've thought about it. It's better to think about that than anything else, which is all dull."

"I wouldn't call the experiences you faced dull," he pointed out. "I don't think surviving on the continent while Kuei hunted for you for years, sending who-knows-how-many agents after you- "

"Nineteen."

"You counted?"

"And buried them. We were nearly buried with them several times."

Ty Lee shuddered. "There were some close calls. And those were the ones who just found us; there were still a lot more after us."

Zuko nodded. "That doesn't sound dull. And then falling under Dark's sway doesn't sound dull. If any of that was dull, you would have let them kill you or killed yourself. Clearly, you would rather live."

Ty Lee nodded with enthusiasm. "Yes."

Mai sighed. "I guess. Maybe if I get close enough to Azula, I can ask her what Death is like. Then I could actually give you an answer."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "I told her about your banishments, but if you explain it from your end, how you tried to protect her, she might be more inclined to forgive."

Mai raised a dark, dubious eyebrow. "And has Azula ever been someone who forgives?"

"No, but she has changed," he reminded. "If you tell her what happened, she might forgive you. Also, she might think that you two being corrupted by Dark, deprived of your wills and reason, is worthy atonement for your offenses against her."

Ty Lee perked up. "Yeah, surely Azula will forgive us once we tell her what happened!"

Before Zuko could respond Katara approached from where she had been conversing with Mother; he no longer resented how beautiful she looked in the light. He felt something else—something else, indeed—that had always been there, but without the resentment, it surged past his awareness and hindered his thoughts, which were riveted on that 'something else.' His eyes followed her approach, tracing her figure and face, but when he felt Mai looking at him, he looked elsewhere.

The area showed powerful signs of an intensive clash, scars littering the landscape, but it still retained an innate beauty that was impossible to smother. Mother meditated near the lake while Sokka and Suki were inside the lake, messing around and having fun. He, Mai, Ty Lee, and now Katara were closer to the edges of the shattered trees, revealed only by the ruined trunks protruding from the earth. However, there was one healthy tree that remained in the area, and they were huddled beneath it, and Zuko tried not to keep looking at the dried blood staining the bark of the tree.

They had all decided to explore the area, tired of the camp. No one had at first wanted to explore the area because they knew of what horrors clung to the land, lingering from Aang's wrath and Azula's death, but the longing finally won out. They left Toph with Aang to watch over him as she said she didn't mind and would rather not be at the place where she had almost died.

"Maybe," Katara said as she sat down next to him. "Personally, I wouldn't count on it. She'll probably try to kill you both, but we won't let her."

"Speak for yourself," Zuko grumbled, still bitter slightly that Mai and Ty Lee had almost assassinated him.

"Sorry, Zuko, for trying to- … well, you know, trying to kill you," Ty Lee said sheepishly, barely meeting his eyes. "You didn't deserve it."

Zuko looked at her. "But you thought I did," he said in consideration.

Ty Lee looked down. "Yeah, we did. We know it wasn't on purpose and we chose our fates, but you can't help how you feel."

"Stupid feelings," Mai muttered with a sigh. "We didn't know it, but suddenly, it was there, and we joined him. We thought it was a great idea to assassinate the Fire Lord. We were bitter that you had to banish us and give us no help, stranding us on the continent with everyone hating our guts, making us survive on our own. And there really were a couple of close calls when some of those agents or bounty hunters found us. Thankfully, we made a few friends- "

"One very handsome friend, especially," Ty Lee added with a mixture of longing and lament.

"- because without that help, we would have died. But we blamed you for our situation."

"It was reasonable," Zuko admitted, begrudging, as he knew why they blamed him. It wasn't exactly an agreeable solution; rather, it was forced.

"But still insane," Ty Lee said softly.

Katara stared at them, blue eyes wide. "How can Dark make reasonable people insane?"

"He pulled the darkness that was already inside," Mai informed, voice flat—and bitter. "It was there under the surface. We couldn't control ourselves; we were his to control because we couldn't control ourselves. I think it can happen to anyone."

Zuko frowned. "But only special people would have access to the Fire Lord and know how to gain access, even if banished."

Ty Lee smiled awkwardly. "Thanks, Zuko."

"That wasn't a compliment."

Katara glanced at him, annoyed. "You could show some grace."

"I'm not a very gracious person," he reminded. "They almost killed me. They would have if it weren't for you. Attempting to kill Agni's anointed Fire Lord is a crime punishable by death."

Ty Lee swallowed. "Are you going to execute us?"

"Of course, he's not going to execute you," Katara assured, and Zuko stared at her, wondering how and why she answered for him, the Fire Lord. It was his rightful duty and decision on whether to execute his subjects who tried to assassinate him, regardless of if the assassins were his former friends or not.

Sure, he wasn't going to execute them, but Katara wasn't the one who possessed the right to voice the decision; she didn't have the right to know him well enough to voice his judgment.

It was simultaneously thrilling and disturbing.

His annoyance must have shown on his face as Mai glanced between the two of them with grim amusement. "Forgive my boldness, Fire Lord, but since I might die momentarily, I request that you name your firstborn, if a girl, after me."

Zuko pinched the edge of his nose as Ty Lee giggled. "That's not happening. I'm not going to execute you."

Katara smiled triumphantly. "Told you. Zuko's better than Fire Lord Kazuki."

He glanced at her, wide-eyed. "You know about him?"

Katara nodded and looked remarkably at ease, like she didn't realize that, by asking questions about his lineage, she was committing a betrothed's duty in the Fire Nation. Lineage was of paramount importance, particularly for the ruling class. Any woman marrying into one of Fire's noble lines, most of all Sozin's line, must learn her husband's lineage and master its intricacies and history, capable of telling the stories attached to and living in it as if she were born of that lineage herself. It was a husband's duty to explain his lineage and its importance to his wife, whose duty it was to absorb the knowledge and stories—and vice versa.

"Your mother told me about him," Katara said simply; she clearly didn't see the big deal. Based on the shared look between Mai and Ty Lee, they hadn't forgotten their education and were aware of what Katara's ignorant actions signified. "I asked her questions."

Zuko glared at Mother's meditating body on the edge of the lake. What was Mother doing? She knew what it meant to explain such things to Katara! He looked back at Katara, aghast. "Why would she tell you about him? Why would you ask questions?"

"I asked her about some of Fire's history before the Great War, and I figured I needed to know some things if I was going to stay with you in the Fire Nation after all this is over as an advisor. Your mom said that Fire Lord Kazuki was a terrifying but memorable Fire Lord who executed even his own daughters."

Ty Lee shivered. "I would rather be executed than live under Fire Lord Kazuki's rule."

"I'd rather be executed than live under Fire Lord Ojas's rule," Mai intoned, shaking her head. "But if I lived under Fire Lord Ojas's rule, I'd have died anyway. I could be a martyr then. I might have inspired Henjul's rebellion and ended the Splintering because of it."

Zuko scoffed. "You're not a very inspiring person, Mai."

Mai shrugged. "I could be, but I choose not to be."

Ty Lee smiled brightly. "I bet you could be a very inspiring person, Mai. If you worked on your aura, it would change everyone's perception of you."

"I think I want that execution now," Mai said dryly, glancing at him. "What's it going to be, Fire Lord?"

Zuko smiled slightly. "Unfortunately, I don't hold you accountable for your treasonous actions, which means you will have time to work on your aura."

The shuriken between her fingers spun faster. "I could attack you now."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Were you all always like this? I'm imagining this is what you were all like after conquering Ba Sing Se."

"Azula did most of the talking after Ba Sing Se," Ty Lee said immediately.

A ghost of a smile curled across Mai's lips. "Like always—except for when Ty Lee was talking."

Zuko let a brief laugh escape him. Though, he hadn't wanted to talk much after conquering Ba Sing Se and spoke minimally, there were fond memories he held of it despite the inherent pain of betraying Uncle. It was the first time he and Azula were together on the same side again—like they had been as children.

Though the situation was brutal and ghastly, he had taken comfort and joy in being with her; it had felt nice. Then there was the fierce anticipation of returning home a hero, redeemed of his dishonor and shame.

"That was a long time ago," he recalled, voice soft. "Over nine years ago."

"And we're still in a war," Katara said, voice equally quiet. "I hope nine years from now, we're not still in a war."

"I know. I hate waiting like this," Zuko confessed. "Aang's doing all the work, and I can't do anything. I'm used to doing something."

Katara placed a kind hand on his arm. "You're used to being Fire Lord, but you can't be Fire Lord here."

Zuko nodded. "I'm always Fire Lord, but being Fire Lord isn't helpful now; it doesn't do anything. I trust my sister's fate to Aang, and it's taken longer than I thought."

Ty Lee looked down. "You don't think Avatar Aang will get to her in time."

"It's occurred to me that if he hasn't found her already, the chances he will are slim," Zuko admitted quietly.

Katara smiled tightly. "Aang will get her back. He would rip apart the Spirit World if he had to."

"I want something to happen!" he erupted. "I need something to happen! I feel like I'm going out of my mind."

"We could always try to kill you again," Mai offered kindly—and perhaps a little too eagerly.

Ty Lee nodded with enthusiasm. "Yeah, Zuko. I can block your chi and everything. We'll make it as real as possible."

"No throats this time," Mai promised. "How bad could it be?"

Zuko considered it for several moments, and it must have been obvious, for Katara smacked him on the shoulder with a look of disbelieving shock, causing him to grunt in surprise; she looked at him—and Mai and Ty Lee—like they were all insane. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! And I've heard Sokka say yellow snow probably doesn't taste too bad if you don't know that it's urine!"

"It's a desperate idea," Zuko corrected, "and I'm desperate. But it would have to be surprising. I'm not surprised easily."

"Kuei's assassins and all," Katara muttered, face twisting.

He nodded. "That, too. But everyone close to me always tries to kill me, which means you'd have to make it really good."

"What do you mean?" Katara demanded, shocked. "What are you talking about? Everyone close to you tries to kill you?"

"Well, let's see," Mai began to count off, holding up her fingers. "There was Azula multiple times, your father, and us. Oh, wait, you told me about that guy, Jet in Ba Sing Se who tried to kill you after getting close to you."

"Wait, Jet?" Katara looked up at him anxiously, her hand tightening on his arm. "Dual hook swords, shaggy hair, hated Fire, and always chewed a straw of wheat?"

Zuko frowned, remembering the play on Ember Island all those years ago; he had forgotten that the others had known Jet, but they had never known about his history with Jet. "That's him. He introduced himself to Uncle and me when we were on the ferry to Ba Sing Se. He kept trying to get me to join his 'Freedom Fighters'—how you could call three non-bending children 'fighters' I don't fucking know. I didn't like him; I didn't trust him. I felt something was off. I rejected his offer, and he seemed fine with it until he started accusing Uncle and me of being Firebenders. He had no evidence, but he knew." He recalled the manic gleam in Jet's eyes during their encounter. "He knew."

"Was it your eyes?" Ty Lee asked, her gray eyes thoughtful. "One look at your eyes, and anyone knows your lineage. Same with Prince Iroh's eyes."

He shook his head. "No. We told him we were half-spawns, hated by both Elements because we were blessed with neither, which is what I thought he was—a half-spawn. It wouldn't surprise me at all if he had some Fire in him through one of his parents," he mused. "He was very aggressive. But he believed our lie—until he didn't."

"Did you use firebending?" Mai asked, brows raised.

"No. But he knew somehow."

"You must have done something to set him off."

Zuko groaned. "It wasn't me; it must have been Uncle. It might have been when I caught him firebending his tea during our last 'peaceful' meeting with Jet. Jet might have figured it out from that. That's all I can think of."

Katara peered up at him, eyes somber. "Then what happened? What did he do? I know he did something."

He shook his head as the memories of those events swarmed his mind. "He was a fucking idiot. He did nothing to dissuade the stereotype of half-spawns as mindless, raving lunatics. He attacked me in front of dozens of witnesses, baiting me to use firebending, and trying to kill me. I don't know which one he wanted more—to kill me or to prove I was a Firebender. I beat him, of course, but before I could do anything to him, the Dai Li came and took him away."

"Oh," Katara whispered, blue eyes shadowed with realization and guilt.

Zuko dared squeeze her hand, and she gripped his tightly. "When we saw that play on Ember Island before Sozin's Comet, I learned what happened to him—what the Dai Li did to him. I'm sorry that happened to him."

He actually wasn't sorry in the slightest, but she didn't need to know that.

She shook her head and wiped a stray tear from her face. "We never knew how it reached that point, but it makes too much sense. It sounds just like him. It was his own fault. He couldn't start over; he couldn't let go of what happened to him. He was very tortured and angry. I wish I could have helped him."

Ty Lee raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "How did you know Jet, Katara? It sounds like that you knew him intimately."

"I didn't lay with him!" Katara exclaimed and immediately flushed, hiding her face with both of her hands; Zuko missed the feel of her hand in his own. "Yes, I liked him a lot at first; I was infatuated with him, too blinded by my feelings to see his true nature. He tried to murder a village in the Colonies, one that was predominantly of Fire rather than of Earth."

Zuko's fists clenched, hating the thought of his race being targeted like that; he understood why it happened but despised it all the same. "Aang stopped him?"

"Sokka stopped him; he evacuated the village. That's when I saw who Jet really was. I didn't like him after that."

He snorted. "I imagine not. I'm guessing that when you saw him again you gave him that whole 'take one step out of line, and I'll kill you' speech."

Katara looked guilty. "Not really, no."

Zuko shrugged, not surprised. "Well, I was the Fire Prince then, and he was just a half-spawn rebel. I guess that warranted steeper disregard."

"Yeah," she whispered, pained. "I'm sorry. He deserved it more than you did, but I trusted and liked him more just because he was of Earth rather than of Fire."

"I'm glad he's dead," he observed, not caring how cruel it sounded. "Guys like him don't change; they're incapable of it. If he was still here, he would hate Fire as much as ever and work to destroy my race, even though he's more than likely related to us. He never seemed intelligent."

Katara sagged, face heavy, but she nodded. "I know."

"You really did like him, huh?" Ty Lee said, smiling with sympathy. "First one?"

"He was the first boy I ever met around my age besides Sokka and Aang—oh, and Zuko, too, but he didn't count."

"Naturally," he agreed dryly.

Katara smiled slightly and nudged him. "Throwing fire at my gran-gran kind of put you on my evil list."

Zuko sighed, ashamed. "I don't blame you for that."

"But Jet was fun and charming," she continued, shaking her head. "Oh, he was charming. He could have convinced me to love Fire if he loved Fire rather than hated them. But he wrapped me around his finger, and it got so bad that I took his side over Sokka's side. I liked him. I thought he was perfect."

He tried not to let Katara's descriptions of Jet, how fond she was of him, irritate him; he failed, of course.

Ty Lee laughed lightly. "That's how it happens."

Mai rolled her eyes. "Only to idiots. It never happened to me."

"That's because Zuko is Zuko," Ty Lee explained like it was obvious. "He's not fun or charming; he's not likeable at all."

Zuko stared at her, unimpressed, with his only brow raised. "Thanks, Ty Lee."

She glanced at him with a guilty expression. "Sorry, but you know I'm right. Azula was more fun than you ever were. We always had fun with her. All you wanted to do was fight and spar and talk about the War. It was boring. And we'd always beat you, anyway."

"Because you cheated," he pointed out instantly, annoyed that she provoked him—like they were still children. He felt like the boy in the royal garden who tried to explain his rationale to Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee, none of whom understood and simply laughed at him and teased him, cheating even more blatantly when he demanded a rematch.

Some things never changed.

Ty Lee blinked, looking insulted. "No, we didn't. We never cheated."

Zuko glared at her, irritated that she would lie so blatantly—like she always cheated! "I would be beating you or Mai, or even Azula sometimes on a good day, which was maybe twice ever, but then one of you would come in and gang up on me just when I was winning. You would always team up against me. I could never do anything against you. Mother always took Azula's side most of the time when I complained." When neither Mai nor Ty Lee looked moved by his explanation—as always—he crossed his arms, disgruntled. "I found the turtle ducks better company than you, anyway."

"Never mind," Mai drawled. "You are charming."

Katara laughed. "He's gotten better. I didn't know him when he was a child- "

"You wouldn't have liked him. He whined about everything."

"I whined when things didn't go my way," he corrected with less patience than he wanted, "which was all the time because you would all gang up on me. Sure, Azula loved it, but it was annoying."

Mai smirked. "You sound like a sore loser."

"He's gotten better at losing," Katara cut in, smiling at him. "Before Toph got back, we sparred, and I beat him. But he won the next couple of days as I could barely move because I was so sore while he was walking around like nothing happened."

"See, Zuko?" Ty Lee chirped with a grin. "You lost, and she didn't cheat. Katara doesn't seem like a cheater. Her aura's really nice. It's just like when we were kids."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "I like Katara a lot better than I like you."

Mai's eyes glinted with intrigue and amusement. "I didn't know the Fire Lord liked anyone."

He sighed, remembering how devoted Young Zuko was to being the distant Fire Lord for so long, refusing to speak to anyone unless he demanded or wanted something, maintaining an impenetrable chasm between himself and anyone else because he had no one with him except Father and Azula, both of whom were imprisoned, one cruel and the other insane. The only people Young Zuko allowed himself to communicate with honestly were Aang, Mother, Azula, Father, and Uncle—no one more. Young Zuko certainly wouldn't have allowed himself to start liking Katara again, regardless of how incredible, kind, and determined she was; he would have been unmoved by the charm of her beautiful, attractive appearance and the weight of her eyes; and he would have been stoic to the memory of her laboring over him for days to restore him to his health and how he thought deeply about her plausible capability to be his Fire Lady.

He missed Young Zuko sometimes.

"Me neither," he muttered before smirking. "Being almost assassinated doesn't make me like you, though. You'll have to try harder."

Mai smirked back, and the gleam of her shuriken drew his eye. "I'll aim for your other artery next time."

"Better make it both," Zuko retorted. "Because next time, I won't try to cauterize; I'll go for the kill. I'll take you with me."

Ty Lee shook her head. "Nope. I'll chi block both of you to stop it from happening."

"Then I'll order the Imperial Firebenders to put you both in a blaze, even if it's with my dying breath. I win."

Katara rolled her eyes. "I really don't understand the Fire Nation."

Zuko didn't want to think about why he wanted Katara to gain understanding about the Fire Nation. "Your understanding is a lot better than Toph's. She calls the Fire Lord 'Sparky.' Some of my predecessors would execute her for the insult."

"Speaking of," Katara said, gesturing with her head behind him, eyes rooted on something past him.

Zuko turned around to see Toph appear out of the desecrated ruins of the woods and step into the clearing, marching right toward them with a massive grin. Zuko felt his hope rise in his chest. "What is it?" he demanded, meeting her halfway in a rush. "Is Azula…?"

"She's back," Toph greeted suddenly, face twitching. "Like, back—back. She sounds as 'sophisticated' as ever."

Zuko's eyes widened but before he could rush off to see her, Toph held him back. "What?" he demanded, wrenching his arm out of her grip with a violent jerk, causing her to wince. "I'm going to see her! I need to see her!"

"You would walk in on something you don't want to see."

He blinked, recognized the wicked look on her face, and denial seized him as he shook his head automatically at such an absurd, ridiculous possibility. "No, you can't mean…"

"Yep."

"You mean…?"

Toph grinned. "Big time. They're going wild at each other. Twinkletoes is milking himself in her, and she's loving it- "

Zuko's eyes shut in dismay while the others, including Mother, Sokka, and Suki, approached. "I don't want to hear this. Stop talking about it."

"You're not curious?"

"Of course not! If I was curious, I'd walk in on them! That's my sister—my sister!"

"She's a woman now, and she's loving it; she's getting fucked good- "

Zuko cringed. "That's enough."

Toph cackled. "That's not what she's telling Twinkletoes!"

He groaned. "Stop."

Sokka smiled in greeting, water still dripping down his face from his hair. "What are we talking about?"

Zuko rubbed at his temples when he saw Toph's massive, shit-eating grin. "Twinkletoes is going at it with Lightning Psycho."

He looked at Mother and saw that she stared back in the direction of the tents with wide eyes before a smile graced her face; she recovered from the revelation of what Azula was currently doing with much more speed than he had—he still struggled with it!

Why would she have sex?

Sokka didn't register the impact of Toph's news for several moments before he gaped, spluttering with astonishment carved into his face; unlike him, Katara looked unsurprised and resigned. "No, he wouldn't," Sokka gasped. "Not even he's that stupid!"

"Airbender-fast," Toph quipped. "He's putting an Airbender in her right now."

"Stop," Sokka begged.

"She ain't saying that to him!" Toph howled with laughter, and Zuko didn't understand how Mother, Suki, Mai, Ty Lee, and Katara looked unsurprised and composed. Aang and Azula were having sex! "I didn't think Twinkletoes had it in him—like he has it now in her!"

"Please stop," Sokka repeated, face and voice pleading.

"I'm just saying—he's fucking her way better than my dad did my mom. It was like my dad didn't even know where to put it. You should be proud, Sparky."

"Proud?" Zuko echoed faintly, looking for help from Mother and Katara, but neither seemed to be listening; both seemed to be thinking, instead.

Toph nodded. "Yep. You should be proud for your sister. Doesn't she deserve a good fucking?"

"I guess," he replied slowly, wondering what had become of him. He was once the indomitable Fire Lord on the Dragon's Throne who no one would dare look at, and now he was being teased and provoked intentionally about his sister having sex. Where was Young Zuko when he needed him? "It's just weird. It's hard to think of her as a woman, you know. She's my sister, and that's it; in my mind, that's all she's ever going to be. She's more than a woman, you know."

Sokka clapped his hands and stared at him with wide eyes. "Yes!" he shouted and grabbed Zuko's hand, shaking it firmly, nodding enthusiastically. "That's it exactly! Katara's not a woman; she's my sister!"

Katara rolled her eyes. "That explains a lot," she drawled.

Toph cackled. "Twinkletoes is making a woman out of her, believe me."

"She just got back," Zuko hissed, pinching his nose. "This is how she decides to spend it?"

Suki smirked. "It's a very powerful 'welcome back'."

"And he has her on her back!" Toph agreed.

Zuko groaned and closed his eyes. "She can't get pregnant now. She better not be."

Toph's face lost all amusement. "Yeah," she agreed softly. "It'd be really hard if she got pregnant. But we'd deal with it, right? We'd all help."

"But there's a way to ensure that it doesn't happen—not having sex."

Her brows rose. "Are you sure this isn't just a way to keep your sister from having sex?"

"Would you stop talking about it?" he hissed, looking around for support from the others. Only Sokka seemed to be on his side.

"Well, I can't say that I'm too shocked," Mai declared flatly with a shrug, and Zuko stared as Ty Lee and Mother both nodded. "Azula always said when we were younger before her dreams were dashed when she was set to be married to Admiral Zhao that- "

"Wait, Azula was going to marry him?" Zuko asked in astonished in horror; he dimly noticed that Katara's own face reflected the horror that he felt. "You can't be serious!"

"She told us about it," Ty Lee admitted, looking solemn. "She said that it was the most horrifying news that she had ever been given. Your father didn't give her a choice- "

Flames flickered at Zuko's fingertips. "He never gave anyone a choice!"

"Azula was ecstatic when news reached the Caldera that The Avatar killed Admiral Zhao at the Great Siege of the North."

Zuko flashed back to watching Zhao being pulled under by the glowing water and nodded. "Me too."

"Azula said when we were younger that she would only marry a strong man who could defeat her in a sparring match and make games with her to spread mischief. Those were her conditions."

Sokka sighed. "And Aang does like games and mischief when he's not being an asshole."

Ty Lee giggled. "And who's more powerful than The Avatar? No one is! Avatar Aang is quite handsome, too, and he holds all of the power in the Realms and, because of it, Azula is literally the most powerful woman in the world!"

Zuko suddenly laughed, ignoring Katara's suddenly pale face. "That's right. Fools will deny her, but by doing so, they risk The Avatar's wrath, directed by her own wrath." He shook his head without resentment. "Her dream became reality. She always comes out as the victor."

"Aren't you pissed off?" Sokka asked incredulously, looking at him in shock. "How can you not be?"

"It's strange to think about," he admitted, "but it makes sense. I'm not mad; I'm happy for them. For myself, no, because it's weird to think about, but I'll get over that. And Azula gave her life for Aang; she died for him. We already knew she loved him. And by going as hard as he has to get her back, we knew he loved her."

"My feet could have told you that," Toph said with a scoff. "And I did tell you that."

Suki laughed slightly. "There are some things you can only believe with your own eyes."

"That doesn't even take into account the political ramifications," Mai pointed out. "The Avatar himself marrying a princess- "

"How do we know this goes to marriage?" Sokka asked quickly. "It might not."

Toph snorted. "You haven't been around either of them, Snoozles. Trust me, he's going to marry her, I guarantee it. Twinkletoes wants her as his Mother of Air and no woman else."

Katara nodded, solemn. "He's going to," she said distantly with a pinch of her eyes. "I know him. It's obvious."

Sokka groaned. "Great. I knew she would come back, but now she's probably going to demand that I bow to her every time I talk to her!"

"There's an easy solution," Zuko chided, rolling his eyes. "Don't be an asshole to her, and she won't be a bitch to you—in time."

Sokka nodded. "You're right, but only about the easy solution. I just won't talk to her—problem solved."

Ty Lee smiled. "She wouldn't make you bow. She likes to look people in their eyes, not at the top of their heads. And if she tries to kill you, she'd do it while she looks you in your eyes. She would never stab you in the back; she would stab you in the front."

"Very comforting," Sokka drawled, stretching his neck, preparing himself. "But I don't care. What are these political ramifications you were talking about, Mai? I have to get more into politics—Chief of Water and all. Go on—I'm ready."

Mai looked amused slightly as one of her brows rose, but he only knew that because he knew her; he knew the others besides Ty Lee couldn't tell. "As far as I know, it has always been The Avatar's descendants marrying into royal lineages, never The Avatar himself. This is unprecedented—the full power and might of The Avatar intertwined with a royal lineage."

"Son of a bitch!" Sokka cried out, aghast. "Why is it always the Fire Nation? Why couldn't it have been us or the Earth Kingdom?" He whirled on Katara, desperate. "Why did you and Aang break up, Katara, why? You think if you talked him out of marrying Azula, he'd marry you?"

Katara's face spasmed with disgust. "I don't want to marry Aang, Sokka! I would never. He's like my son."

"Calm down," Zuko cut in. "It's not my line- "

"Yes, it is!" Sokka exclaimed, passionate and outraged. "It's polardog shit! Your line's already got Avatar Roku and Sozin and those fuckers who are powerful beyond powerful, and now you get Aang's blood? I don't think so! Aang's gotta be the most powerful Avatar to ever exist! Fire doesn't deserve him! Your line doesn't deserve him!"

Katara interjected: "Gran-gran said that, from both sides of our family, we're descended from Avatar Kuruk, Sokka. We have The Avatar's blood in our veins, too, in our line."

"That's different! Probably every Water Tribesman's line has Kuruk's blood!"

"My father said that he was descended from Kyoshi," Suki suddenly said. "Remember, Sokka?"

Sokka frowned. "You doubted that. You said it was likely that he just said that so you'd feel confident enough to join the Kyoshi Warriors; you said there's no actual proof. Maybe it's true, but you don't know. But there's plenty of proof for Zuko! He's already descended from the most powerful line in the world—the line of Sozin! Then, on top of that, he has Roku's blood, who we all know was very powerful, and then he'll get Aang- "

"That's not how it works!" Zuko snapped, frustrated. "It's not my line that gets Aang's blood; it's Azula's line- "

"Same thing," Sokka dismissed in disgust.

Mother shook her head. "It is not, Prince Sokka. You and Princess Katara share a line now, but upon the arrival of your children, your lines will split into new lineages, which reflects Avatar Aang and Azula. Zuko shares his line with Azula currently and will forever, but when they have children of their own, their lines will not be the same—they will have new lines."

"The main branch of the bloodline is mine because I'm my father's son; I'm the firstborn," he described slowly, thankful for Mother's explanation. "Only my line matters in the long run. Azula's line would only matter if something happened to my line in which no heir is found to take the Dragon's Throne."

"But what if something happens to you, Zuko?" Sokka demanded, not letting it go. "What if during this new war you die and- " He avoided Katara's smack by stepping to the side. "- have no children? Then Azula will take the Dragon's Throne, and the Fire Nation will become even more powerful because of Aang!"

Zuko blinked to ease his temper. "I'm not going anywhere, Sokka. I'm a survivor and even if something did happen, Uncle Iroh will take the Dragon's Throne if I demand it, and I would. Also, Azula doesn't want the Dragon's Throne. You have nothing to worry about. I'm not happy about the match because of politics and raising the Fire Nation's power, raising the Fire royal bloodline's esteem."

"Then what the fuck are you happy about?' Sokka asked incredulously. "I don't understand. You're all about the politics! I've learned politics from you!"

"This goes way deeper than politics; it's better than politics; it's worth more than politics. I love my sister and have always wished for her to become who she's meant to be. Aang's my best friend, and I want him to be happy instead of losing himself in loneliness and hate. To me, it seems that Aang and Azula have found those two things and even more in each other. The fact that it's my sister and best friend doesn't change that. In fact, I believe it makes it even better. I just still have to adjust to the change, but it's not a bad change, only one that's hard to get my head around."

Sokka blinked and shook his head in apparent disbelief. "Damn, I hadn't thought of that."

"Obviously," Toph muttered.

"But if it were Katara and my best friend, I would shove my space sword so far up his ass that- "

"What's done is done," Suki interrupted gracefully. "Aang will be the first to tell us that what we think doesn't matter."

"You think they're done by now?" Toph asked, scrunching her nose. "I can't feel them from here."

"Airbender-fast," Sokka recalled with a shudder. "Yeah, I bet it's done."

Zuko looked at everyone's faces and knew he wasn't the only who thought that it had just started.

XxXxXxXxXxX

I hope that you all enjoyed it. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I'd really appreciate it!

**Aang reunites with the Gaang! He purifies Mai and Ty Lee of Vaatu's influence, which they had been corrupted by (I'm guessing everyone figured that out). He debates what he's doing with the others and explains the process, defending his actions against their pressing questions and outrage, mainly Sokka. He's reaching the edge of his limit because of his extensive exhaustion, but he keeps going and does everything he can. He finally relents to rest a little bit, knowing it doesn't help Azula if he's too exhausted to see (sense) what's right in front of him when he's searching.

**Azula meets Gyatso! They share a long conversation about Aang and Air. Yes, Air wasn't perfect—far from it. It makes a lot more sense that they had some serious problems to let things reach the point of the Attack. There must be a source for all of it. Sure, part of the source is Sozin and, thus, Vaatu, but I think that's lazy and too simplistic. Air's not only the victim; they are also the source themselves for their demise. They could have saved themselves and changed direction, correcting course, modifying trajectory, but they refused to over and over again across generations. This will be explored further in the coming chapters.

I also wanted to go more in depth about Gyatso and who he is because there's scarcely anything known about him (and known about Air) other than that he was friends with Roku, the greatest Airbender in the world, Aang's mentor, loved Aang, and was not going to let the other Elders take Aang away from him. It's clear that he's a maverick and rebel, which is exactly what The Avatar needs in his mentor, particularly for someone born of Air, who are shown to be immensely rigid mentally. I think Gyatso would be a lot like Aang in his younger days because it makes sense with his rebellious nature and willingness to play games, have fun, and spread mischief, as shown in the flashbacks with Aang. Thus, that would always be part of him but more extreme when he was younger, and it's compelling to me that he was so rebellious and flouted the authority of the Elders that he was banished several times from the Air Temples and traveled the world, which makes him, again, the perfect mentor for The Avatar. I think it all lines up.

When Azula is brought back by Aang, he is overwhelmed and starts kissing her, breaking her defenses, and they have sex, which marries them in Air's eyes. But the question is—how will Aang handle it?

**Zuko and all of the others learn of what Aang and Azula are doing, and various reactions are given. If you think about it, any of the kings and rulers of the Four Nations would want The Avatar to marry their daughters and sisters to strength the royal bloodlines and endow in their descendants the renown of being descended from The Avatar. So, of course, Sokka, who has taken more of an interested in politics because of Zuko, is worried about the Fire Nation's power because they already have Avatar Roku's blood in the Fire royal bloodline (but that is through a descendant of Roku, not Roku himself, in Ursa who married into it). Now he thinks the Fire royal bloodline will have Aang (who is the true Avatar, not a descendant of The Avatar) in its bloodline, but it's explained that only Azula's diverging line will have Aang's blood. Basically, the Fire royal bloodline is tied to Zuko's lineage, not Azula's. Fire's royal bloodline will be Zuko's bloodline, not Azula's.

Well, I think that is everything. I hope that you all enjoyed it, and I would really appreciate it if you left a review to tell me what you thought about it.

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