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!

18. Revival

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Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender

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When Aang opened his eyes, the change was instantaneous. He still sat in the Tree's core, but the overwhelming darkness was stifling, causing him to choke on it for several moments as he reoriented himself. He tore out of the darkness and stumbled out of the Tree's core, climbing down the roots until he was at the base; the darkness was present, but it its impact was mitigated.

He knew why.

Aang stared up at Vaatu, imprisoned in the Tree's core; he had awakened right beneath Vaatu's trapped body. It was evidence that he had succeeded—he went back! He was in the past! He was back when Vaatu was still imprisoned! He could prevent everything evil from happening! He would save his race! He would save the world! There would be Balance, no matter what Koh claimed!

"I see my exploits have finally granted me an audience with you," Vaatu greeted, voice curious and suspicious. "You are the fruit of Raava's sacrifice—Wan's heir."

His fists clenched, and he felt the power of his body, for his body had come with him; he had summoned it to him! It would be effortless to wield the elements, slamming them into Vaatu again and again, harming him close to destruction, and then throw Vaatu into the Void of Eternity.

Aang glanced at the entrance to the Void, which howled in primacy; it would be so easy. He would throw Vaatu inside and dive after him, fighting him with everything he had, diminishing him until he faded back into the primeval Darkness out of which the Tree shaped him.

He could destroy Vaatu.

However, to do so, he would have to release Vaatu from his prison—he would have to risk Vaatu escaping a century earlier, causing everything to happen worse and sooner when he wasn't ready. And he didn't trust himself—he never would. His nature was failure, which had been proven to him time and time again, and for so monumental a task, he didn't trust himself; he didn't think himself capable. While he knew the odds of Vaatu escaping from him were slim, the odds still existed—and that wasn't good enough, not now. He would do it later after he had proved to himself that he had triumphed over his nature of failure.

After he saved his race and stopped the Great War, he could return and destroy Vaatu—he had to work his way up from his rhythmic pattern of failure, going from stopping Sozin to saving his race to stopping the Great War to destroying Vaatu. It would be a gradual progression; he had to start small first.

"Everything you've planned—I'm destroying it all," Aang boasted, giddy and delighted—he had never felt more relieved in his life! "Then I'm going to come back and destroy you—I will eradicate you."

Vaatu's shadows wafted inside the Tree in aggravation, but they did not escape; Aang almost wanted them to so he could have the justification to try to throw Vaatu into the Void. "And what have I planned, Avatar?"

"You know what."

"It seems you do, too. Yet, such knowledge is known only to me." Vaatu's sudden laughter irritated him—but also set him on edge. "How interesting. Considering that you appeared below my prison inside the Tree, I wonder."

Aang knew Vaatu had already put it together; he was too intelligent and cunning not to. "I don't care what you wonder. You won't have much longer to wonder. I'm going to destroy you once I'm done cleaning up your mess."

Vaatu's laughter rose in volume, heard so clearly that it felt like he was right beside him rather than trapped in the Tree. "My mess is your mess, Avatar. You will fail—you can never stop what is coming, even if you know of its imminence and dared trespass on the Tree's natural power and manipulated it for your own."

"I won't," he vowed. "I'm done failing."

"So, I succeed," Vaatu commented, and Aang stiffened. "I escape out of the Tree. The war I plan will do everything I planned—except one thing. It does not destroy you; you are clearly born of Air. How did you ever escape, nonetheless be able to convince the Tree to let you return here?"

Aang smiled, though it wasn't genuine. "Nothing is not within my power, not anymore."

Vaatu hummed, and the darkness intensified for a brief moment. "I can spare you the stress. I know success is not in your nature—you are unused to it. You will not know what to do, least of all what to do with yourself. If you free me, I will stop it, and none of the potent darkness inside you will ever be yours."

"Because it would be yours instead."

"Yes. I will spare you, Avatar—if you spare me."

He recalled Vaatu's offer of 'returning' his race to him and laughed, though it was mocking and bitter. "You don't spare me. I'm going to spare myself. I don't need you—no one does. You are redundant, Vaatu—a crime against Balance. I'm going to stop everything on my own, and then I'm going to stop you forever. I win."

Vaatu thrashed inside the Tree. "Your last victory was during the Harmonic Convergence! You have only lost since—and you lose now still! You will never succeed!"

Aang turned away, anticipation stealing his breath—and heart. "Your lies have obscured the Realms since Kuruk, at least, but not anymore. Watch, hopeless, as everything you planned for centuries—for eons—in the Tree, weaponizing your vengeance and fury, is stopped like the pitiful things they are; watch as you fail, Vaatu; watch as defeat crushes everything in which you placed your confidence. I will kill Sozin and his followers, save my race, and purify Agni of your influence. You can struggle against me, but it's pointless—it's hopeless because I give to you now the hopelessness you gave me." He walked to the entrance of the Void, staring for long moments, unable to look away, mesmerized by Eternity, but he kept talking: "Prepare for this—prepare for your demise. Savor what you've had—because you won't have it anymore. I will make you nothing, returning you to the disgusting filth out of which the Tree shaped you. Then there will be peace—there will be Balance. I'm going to live again finally. All your plans will die as completely as my race did, but unlike my race, I'm not saving your plans—I advance their destruction!"

He ignored Vaatu's furious words and braced one hand on the Tree's roots, siphoning the necessary power as he closed his eyes; he followed his instincts and teleported out of the Immortal Realm.

He coughed, and when he opened his eyes, he was stunned to see a familiar landscape, though not the one he expected. He had expected to appear in the mountain he meditated inside, but he didn't appear inside the mountain; he appeared in what was the forest of Ozai's repurposed camp. The differences were apparent immediately; no blood soaked the soil and trees, and craters didn't litter the ground in scorches of fire. It was an unmarred landscape, brimming with fertility and vitality—as it should be! But he didn't know why he appeared in the forest rather than the mountain, except if Azula, Zuko, Toph, Katara, Sokka, and Suki found his body and had taken him back to camp.

Aang refused to think about how they would be reacting to his body vanishing. He had better things to do! He had a life to live—for the first time since he found out he was what he was!

He inhaled slowly as the air filled his lungs; it was untainted by woe, war, destruction, ruin, blood, decay, and death. The world had yet to be molested by the Great War, had yet to cry out silently as war was ravaged across its fertile and luscious soil. This was finally his chance, the greatest gift that he could have possibly received; he was going to save his race and save the Four Nations, the future of the yet-to-be begotten children from the cruelty, horror, and desolation of untamed war!

But more importantly, he felt and heard Air! It was miraculous! It was beautiful! It was Love and Goodness!

Aang collapsed to his knees and wept at the pure feeling he thought he would never feel again.

He would never go back! He was home finally! It was true! Even if the Tree demanded his return, he never would—he would kill himself first! He left the evil time behind, including the memories with it. Nothing that happened there ever mattered—none of it! No one he ever encountered and spoke with, whose names he still knew—for now—would ever bother him again with their maddening imperfections! He would never fall into their crimes as he did before! He would no longer absorb their sins that absorbed him first! Azula, Zuko, Toph, Katara, Sokka, Suki, Samir, Ursa, Pathik, Mai, and Ty Lee—anyone and everyone!—didn't matter; they were worthless!

All that mattered was that he was home.

Rising to his feet, Aang opened his arms, feeling Air's embrace all around him, hearing its song in soul, and he embraced in return, a real smile stretching his lips—the first he ever smiled since he made the Mistake! But it was never going to be the Mistake again—he would change everything!

He realized dimly it was raining, and its nourishing droplets washed over him, cleansing him of the horror and grief staining his soul; it was a sign of renewal, a recognition of the awakening he would usher in for the world because he would stop everything! It was Heaven crying in relief at his return, for it knew what his return meant! He would ensure nothing bad happened! He would stop Evil and eradicate it at the roots! His hands cradled the air, and the storm opened in greeting, under his command, and he intensified it, wanting more purity to befall him. He would never tire of living in the right time—the true time because it was his time!

Thunder roared above him, and lightning sparked sporadically across the skies, revealing Heaven's eternal veins; there was fire in the storm clouds, glowing with radiance, shining down on him, as the winds whipped around him, pulling him into the air where he floated on a powerful tornado that focused its destructive power on funneling all of the grime spoiling his spirit into Heaven above, where it would die—because only purity existed in Heaven!

The storms grew around him, answering his primordial call for harmony and joy. Heaven reached down and caressed him with pride and confidence, its touch carried by the ever-loyal winds, breezing over his face, brushing with a lover's trust. The earth sang a deep rumble that echoed in his eternal soul as the quakes trembled to the rhythm of his nourishing tears spilling into his beard—the world was alive as it should be! The rivers flowed up hills to meet him, crying out in radiant primality, a longing to know their Master after over 109 years apart.

It was the world welcoming his return—recognizing his appearance was an act of salvation and wonder, a miracle to behold by all who possessed the intelligence to understand! He would save everyone!

But there was so much to do! He was in the Earth Kingdom, on the wrong side of the continent, and needed to go to the Fire Nation and kill Sozin before Sozin could strike the temples. Then he had to go to the South, find his younger self, smack sense into that stupid boy, and return to the Southern Temple—see Gyatso!—and explain everything. He would go across the entire world to fix everything he had wrought, going from East to West, and from West to South—because in the South lied his heart!

The Tree told him to think about when he wanted to go, and Aang knew where he was across Time—he appeared on the day when he learned he was The Avatar, the beginning of the end, the day of his twelfth birthday. It was the worst day of his life, for it was the source of all other evil days—because The Avatar was evil!

It meant he had around three months to fix everything, according to his calculations—he had one month until the dreaded storm appeared to consume that stupid boy and three months until Sozin's Comet arrived with Sozin's butchering-army of enhanced Firebenders. However, he had to reach the South within a month because he had fled the Southern Temple and gotten trapped in the storm a month before Sozin's Comet.

But there would be enough time to do everything!

When the earth cried its exhaustion of drowning under Heaven's tears, Aang soothed the storm to nonexistence. But Air's presence remained, and he stood there, basking in the impossible feeling—he had forgotten how wonderful and fulfilling it felt! It rooted him in place more than any Earthbender—more than Devi herself!—and stirred in him a love he thought impossible to feel again.

He would do anything to preserve that love—murder anyone to keep that love in his heart—if that's what it took.

Aang would start with Sozin.

He centered himself before dashing to the nearest town, gliding across the winds, propelling him faster and faster—he was in his right time!

It became clear as he approached that the town was poor and almost desperate with many people, all dressed in ruined, dirty clothes, milling across the layout, grouped between the spaces of buildings. However, when he stopped his speed and walked through the town, the milling people stared at him with suspicion and doubt—was that fear? No, it couldn't fear. Why would anyone fear him?

Aang realized for the first time that he only wore pants, leaving his chest, feet, arms, and hands bare, visible to anyone who looked at him. Their eyes were riveted on his tattoo of mastery, but Aang didn't care—because it was his right time! He was no longer ashamed of being of Air, and he had no reason to be scared of someone discerning his identity. No one would ever know he was The Avatar, damned and abominable, grotesque in all facets to the core!

But they still looked at him with fear.

Why would anyone look at him with fear if he wasn't known as The Avatar?

He shook himself of his questions and approached a mother with her child, smiling with joy. "I'm Aang. Do you have any spare- "

The mother pulled her child—a girl around two or three years old—away. "Please. We already gave you what you asked for."

Aang blinked before he laughed. "I think there's been a mistake. I haven't been here before."

A broad man with a scowl approached, brows furrowed with icy determination. "You need to leave, trespasser."

"I'm not trespassing!" he protested, wondering what was happening. The various eyes staring at him looked away when he made eye contact, followed by furtive shuffles and a hunch of the shoulders. "I'm traveling; I'm a nomad!"

"We know what you are," the broad man snapped. "We don't have any food to spare. Go moralize elsewhere."

Aang stared at him in astonishment. "I'm not looking for food. Why would I be looking for food? I'm looking for some clothes!" He gestured to his bare chest, thinking about his journey ahead—he needed to blend in, especially when he reached the Fire Nation. "Do you have any spare upper garbs? Also, I need a headband."

"You need to leave if you know what's good for you," another man cried out. "We chased you off last time, and we'll do it again."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, more confused than he had felt in a long time. "You've never seen me before!"

"Not you, but those like you." The man snared his arm and his other hand braced against his shoulder. Aang was too surprised to react as the man pushed him back, and he stumbled away. "You're not welcome here, Air Nomad."

He blinked rapidly. "Why? What happened?"

Was someone pretending to be an Air Nomad and going around to tarnish Air's reputation, giving Air a bad name?

"You always say how smart and enlightened you are, espousing your moral superiority! Figure it out yourself!"

Aang's jaw clenched as he felt the town's hostility slam against him; nothing made sense. "You want me to go? All you need to do is give me a cloak, at least—it's all I ask."

The scowling man's scowl grew darker before he nodded curtly and whipped around, walking to one of the other men, and held out his hand. "It could be worse—it has been worse. He's taking a cloak rather than a child. Give me yours to give to him."

He gaped in astonished incomprehension as he was handed the other man's cloak. "What are you talking about? Who took a child? Your child?"

"Go!" the scowling man snapped. "We don't want to fight, but we will."

Aang's fists clenched as his own anger pierced his awareness. "And you think I won't?"

"Your race never fights," another man responded from the crowd. "We chase you off, and you never fight back. Even when you try to take our children from us, teaching them what you think they should be taught, making them not our children anymore, you won't fight! But we'll fight forever to spare our children of your kind's lunacy! We know what you want; we know your aims! You want a world of only Air! You want everyone to think like you and believe what you believe! But we fight against you, and we do it now! Leave!"

He exhaled roughly and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control himself; he succeeded after several long moments. He wrapped the cloak around himself and pulled the hood over his head and bowed with stiff form. "Thank you for the cloak," he said, voice quivering with effort to restrain himself from roaring in fury that they dared resent his race—dared insult them and hate them!

It was unacceptable!

Aang leaped out of the town and propelled himself into the distance with various gusts of wind.

He would have better luck at the next town, traveling east.

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It took him longer to reach the next town because the town he had in mind—the one he was familiar with—wasn't in existence; there was nothing but the continent's natural landscape. Instead, he kept traveling and didn't stop until he arrived at the next town.

It was a relief when he did because he felt the instinct for food and drink.

But something deeper gnawed at him—what was that previous town talking about? Why would they say such atrocious lies about Air? Who would tell them to say such lies?

It must be Sozin! Sozin was paying his agents on the continent to denigrate Air, preparing them subconsciously for Air's murder, which they would accept if they believed the lies he spread!

He couldn't kill Sozin fast enough.

But Sozin was across the world, and he was alone—he had to support himself for such a strenuous journey. He felt a deep grimace of remorse as he realized that Appa wasn't going to experience their time and home again—it was only him. Appa deserved it more than anyone else, but Aang had denied it to him.

He had sworn to stop failing, but he did it again!

Aang's face twisted in dismay before he shook himself rapidly. He was going to stop failing—he had ensured it!

Upon entering the next town, he elected for more subtlety—he appeared a silent visitor. He ripped off a piece of the bottom of his cloak and tied it around his head in a makeshift headband, finding something easy in anonymity. It was familiar to him. He kept his cloak secured across his body, compressed by his arm stretching across his chest and gripping his other arm with his hand, locking his arm in place as a vice to keep the cloak in place. He passed various figures, some of whom inclined their heads in greeting while others ignored him, and kept his gaze rooted on the buildings, trying to find a cart selling food, but he had no luck after walking through the town twice.

Finally, he approached an older man laboring with the beginnings of a fence. "Excuse me, do you know where I can find something to eat?"

The older man glanced at him for a brief moment before gesturing with his head. "That's a tavern." Aang followed his gaze to a smaller building with a crude roof colored green. "Probably the only thing worth eating right now."

"Thank you."

The older man waved him off, and Aang approached the tavern, feeling the many occupants inside with his earthbending. He pulled the door open, cringing instantly at the strong odor assaulting him, but powered through and entered the dimly lit area. He inclined his head to those who glanced at him before looking away—they had judged him simply as a silent visitor, which he wanted.

Aang took an empty seat in a secluded corner and rubbed his hand through his hair, careful not to disturb his makeshift headband. He let his arm fall away from securing his cloak, releasing a pleasant breeze that tickled his bare chest, but there could be no identification of him as an Air Nomad. He only needed to watch his hands.

He knew he wouldn't be alone long once he reached the Southern Temple and reunited with Gyatso and friends, returning home, but he thought he wouldn't feel so alone in his true time. It hit him suddenly with relentless insistency. It was only himself and his thoughts—just like it had been after the Great War when he restored the temples for years and completed his Avatar duties. He couldn't share the pressure, burden, and holy joy that he felt because he couldn't trust anyone right now in his right time, not until he met Gyatso and his race again—they were all that mattered!

But he wanted to share it desperately—he wanted to share the truth of his presence! He wanted to share the world's glory and salvation! He wanted someone to understand him for the first time in his life and experience exactly what he did!

If Azula were with him-

Azula.

He felt his joy dwindle slightly because she wasn't with him to experience the truth, no matter how furious he felt toward her. She wouldn't see the beauty of What Was, which he would return to What Is, but he desperately wanted to show her; he wanted to show everyone. Samir was not around to see her ancestral heritage that she fraudulently basked in; none of his friends were around, incapable of seeing their homelands when everything was wonderful.

He hadn't truly thought of what he was going to do, what would happen. If he saved his race, what would happen to Azula? What about Zuko? What about Samir? What about Katara and Sokka? What about Toph?

If he saved his race and fundamentally changed the past, snuffing out the Great War as Roku should have done before it even started, everything would be different when he returned to the future. Many people would survive and produce offspring that would never have existed, thus leading to the chance that those who existed in his future would never be begotten. Azula and Samir and his friends might never exist! Iroh, if he was born, would become Fire Lord instead of Ozai, if the monster was born, and the entire history of the next century would change drastically; there was no way to tell how much! Aang himself might already be married to someone else who wasn't Azula in the future if he changed the past; he might have sired children with this unknown wife because he would be an older Avatar—truly living at 120-years-old!

"I know that look," a voice greeted, followed by a brief laugh.

Aang glanced at the middle-aged man who stood near him with a worn smile. "I doubt it," he countered.

The man stared at him knowingly. "You're a man who just realized he made a mistake. You're not the first to search for solutions at the bottom of a glass. Believe me, I know."

"Not a mistake," Aang corrected, voice bordering on harsh. "Never a mistake. It's the best decision I've ever made—easily. And I don't drink."

"Then why do you have that look on your face?"

"Look?"

"Yeah, you look like you're trying to take a shit, but it's not doing it for you."

Aang sighed. "My wife," he said slowly, knowing it was true. He and Azula were married in Air's eyes, but Azula didn't know, for he hadn't told her. And even though he would change everything and destroy the time in which he and Azula married, he would know—he would always know forever. He had to admit, for it was the truth, but the truth was damning and disastrous. "This decision was made without her input."

"As all decisions should be made!" one of the other customers jeered near him, eyes glassy as he raised his glass of alcohol to commend him.

"Ignore him," the man said with a chuckle. "You don't regret the decision you made, but you regret not speaking with your wife about it."

"I wish she were here right now," he whispered. "I want her to see this. She deserves it."

He needed someone to share his burden and pressure with, and unlike anyone he had ever met but Gyatso, Azula willingly seemed to take bear some of the load for him. She made him feel not as alone as everyone else did, and he didn't want to feel alone in his right time.

"Not prudent, Avatar," Azula would probably say to him, and he visualized the amusement in her mesmerizing golden eyes. "Not very keen. Why would I help you when you seek my murder? You destroy everything that I love, including yourself."

Aang waved the thoughts of her away. "Do you have any vegetables?"

"Yes."

"I'll take a plate of those. I don't care what they are—I'll eat them."

The man nodded and walked away.

Aang watched the various inhabitants, unaware of what fate would befall them if Aang didn't fix his own evil; they were unaware of the Great War's imminence, unaware that Sozin plotted with cruel intelligence to rob the world of anything good and decent. They lived their lives with simplicity, ignorant to Sozin's machinations—ignorant to the horror and evil to consume the world for a century. They had no idea that many of their friends would die violent deaths—many of their fathers, uncles, brothers, cousins, and sons; they had no idea their wives would be widowed and forced to raise their children themselves, struggling and failing to bestow a father's lessons adequately; they had no idea their lives would change forever, incapable of doing anything to change the change; they had no idea the world was so close to an unholy war of savagery and bloodlust—a conquest founded on abominable ideas and inhumane execution.

He hated the other inhabitants in that moment. How could none of them know? How could none of them be honest and see what was going on? How stupid were they? How unintelligent were their understandings? How could none of them have sense? Were their senses so dulled by the alcohol they freely drank that they couldn't sense the most obvious thing in the world? Did they even care? Would they care once the Great War erupted with Air's murder? Would they only realize the truth of things when it was too late?

But Aang was going to change it—he was going to prevent everything! But he wasn't doing it for them, who were too stupid to see the obvious; he was doing it for his race, who were wiser and more intelligent than anyone in the world, and the world suffered in their absence—he had seen and felt it!

Aang was startled when his meal was placed in front of him with a clang on the table, and he shook himself and thanked the man who brought it to him before he began to eat, piling the untainted food, born of a fertile soil unmarred by war and festering corpses, into his mouth.

But though his mouth was busy, his mind was free, and he could only ruminate on his choices—the things he needed to do, which only expanded and elongated the more he thought about it.

He realized with a grim but determined resignation that his work would only begin after killing Sozin and saving his race—there was so much more to do after. He had to allay the tensions across the world—not to mention soothe Fire's ire for murdering their beloved Fire Lord, which meant Agni himself might attack him or work against him. But how would he do it? Of course, he would kill anyone who agreed with Sozin and would try to replicate Sozin's evil plans, but there would be many who might not agree with Sozin but would also disagree with Aang killing him. And what about the succession crisis that would befall Fire as there would be no viable heir to sit on the Dragon's Throne?

According to what Azula told him, Azulon wasn't born until the literal day of Sozin's Comet, which was seen by Fire as a sign of his divine power, bestowed by Agni himself.

Aang only thought it epitomized Azulon's evil nature.

But it meant that once he killed Sozin, there would be no viable heir, and no one of Fire would accept Azulon sitting on the Dragon's Throne as only a baby. Azula said the airbending Half-spawn Fire Lord, Fire Lord Zyrn's reign was terrible and was born of similar circumstances. Fire would never let it happen. But Azulon was the only heir. Sozin had two non-bending bastard daughters, twin girls named Li and Lo, but they were barred from inheriting the Dragon's Throne by Sozin's own decree. Of course, Aang could rescind the order, but he wouldn't.

Even if Li and Lo were married and had powerful husbands, he wouldn't give the Dragon's Throne to either—he wanted Sozin gone forever! He would have to find someone else worthy to sit on the Dragon's Throne. Azula said that blood and deeds were necessary qualifications for the Dragon's Throne, but the blood component was crucial as a sign of legitimacy and identification, and the claimant must be a man, not a woman.

"Fire Lady Akemi's rule was disastrous," Azula had told him, shaking her head. "She went mad after her firstborn son's death, which led to Fire Lord Kazuki's reign, and no one liked Fire Lord Kazuki—not even Akemi, his mother. But everyone blames Akemi for the disasters that befell our race because it was her fault; she was as rash as a child."

His only solution was to look for the descendants of previous Fire Lords, whose claims were, unfortunately, so slim he would find it impossible to justify any of them beyond 'the only one there is.' From what Azula had told him, Sozin had no siblings, and no uncles or aunts who produced heirs. For several generations, there was only a single line of Fire's royal family that survived, leaving only the true heirs—Sozin's line.

It was the opposite situation of the Splintering.

He would have to probably look to Fire Lord Henjul, but Henjul was so far back! From what Azula told him, Henjul reigned for over a century and was beloved deeply, second only to Sozin and Kai in Fire's eyes, and died during Kuruk's long reign.

But there was another solution, simple in its efficiency—let Azulon live and perhaps raise him himself.

However, would he let Azulon live? From everything that Azula shared, Azulon adored Sozin and loved him as a son loves his father; he worked dutifully all his life to manifest Sozin's vision of the world; he waged war against Earth and Water; he was the most powerful man in the world for decades, even the day of his death when he was murdered by Ursa; he was a demanding father to Iroh and a distant father to Ozai but a kind grandfather to Zuko and Azula, and Azula had specifically loved Azulon a lot.

"I was in awe of him," Azula had shared during their time together on Ember Island. "I wanted to be like him—my namesake. I was always like Mother, though I did not want to be, and Father wanted me to be strong like him, though I was not and did not want to be. I wanted to be like Grandfather; he was the memory against which I measured myself and failed every time. I tried to mimic him; I tried to speak like him. I read the reports he wrote by his own hand and absorbed as much as I could. Under Father, I tried to be like him—because I had to be. But when I was alone, when I hunted you across the continent and into Ba Sing Se, I did not try to be like Father; I tried to be like Grandfather, though I know I failed; I was more like Mother, I know."

But none of that mattered because he was going to change everything. Who would Azulon be without Sozin's poisonous influence? Could he raise Azulon to be after peace and balance? Would his efforts for mercy even matter? Azulon was Sozin's son—son! His direct heir! He was of Sozin's blood and would always be loyal to his dead father's memory! Azulon could play at being devoted to peace and a balanced world, but there would inevitably come a time when he would answer the call howling in his blood.

Aang knew he would have to kill Azulon eventually.

His only solution was to search the Fire royal family, going up the lineage and assessing each limb of the family tree, looking for a viable candidate for the Dragon's Throne. Maybe there would be someone more recent than looking to Henjul. And regardless of who he chose, it would be viewed as a revolution in Fire's eyes.

The only question was if they would perceive the revolution as an external or internal revolution?

Aang knew the answer would be an external—an invading—revolution; they would see it as an outsider, someone unworthy, seizing power rather than an internal revolution. They would see it as an enemy ruling them rather than a friend. And everyone would see that it was The Avatar interfering in Fire's affairs, which Aang knew he would ignore—things were bigger than Fire's pettiness.

He would have to work to dismantle everything Sozin had done for decades, likely stretching back to when Roku was in his forties; he would have to dismantle fifty years' worth of work and effort, which didn't include the social effort necessary to destroy Fire's conceptions about Air.

It would be a decades-lasting effort, he suspected.

But it wasn't only Fire; it was everyone.

He thought things would be easy coming back, but upon seeing how careless and ignorant the other inhabitants were, he realized with dread that the majority of people everywhere across the world—except for Air!—were equally careless and ignorant. It was permanent shared state from which they needed to be awakened. He would need to awaken Water, Earth, and Fire from their lethargic stupors and teach them Air's way of diligence and intelligence, born of transcendent wisdom and striving for Truth.

But was anyone else capable of it? Were the other races capable of being like his race?

He didn't know because there was no evidence for it. The only evidence he possessed that anyone could be like his race was from that damned, evil time when Azula showed such a marvelous understanding and striving pursuit, inflamed by her hungry mind and keen intellect.

"What do you expect?" Azula would say likely with the smirk he loved. "I am me, Aang, and I am unlike anyone you have ever met—and will ever meet."

He couldn't think of Azula—his wife!—now, not ever again!

Aang banished thoughts of her from his mind as he finished his meal and pushed his plate away, thankful for the food; it had given him a steadying touch, centering him, and making him focus. This wasn't some quest for which he could be lethargic or lazy; he had to be competent and in control. He had to take his journey—his quest—seriously. It was the most serious three months of his life, by far. Training for Sozin's Comet to stop Ozai was insignificant—that was worthless!—compared to his new quest.

"Did you enjoy your meal?" his waiter asked, approaching him.

He nodded. "I did, thanks. It was just what I needed."

"That will be two coins."

Aang blinked when he realized he didn't have any coins; he had nothing but his pants and the cloak he had demanded in the previous town. However, before he could inform the man and try to come to some kind of arrangement, a man burst into the tavern, something stern but anxious on his face.

"We just got a warning that one of the Arrowheads was spotted today and was headed this way!" the man shouted, running through the area, shaking some of the inhabitants, with whom he was clearly familiar, on the shoulders. "You hear that? We need to be ready if he comes here!"

His waiter left his table and approached the man. "Who told you?"

"A man came riding through here on an ostrich horse and told the news; he said he was riding to all the towns near his because the Arrowhead seemed unstable; he called him unhinged. Said he walked into his town almost naked like he owned the place!"

One of the other inhabitants slammed his glass on the table with fury, a sneer on his face. "Just like all of them always do! They think they own the world!"

"And he said he stole someone's cloak!"

"Like they steal our food!"

"They think they can tell us how to live!" another man cried out, words slurring slightly, but Aang stared, wide-eyed, as all the other inhabitants nodded fervently in agreement. Mutterings reached him, and he used his airbending for clarity—to hear specifically what they were saying about his race:

"If he dares show up here, we'll run him off like we always do."

"This one's unhinged, though. Not sure I've ever seen an unhinged Arrowhead."

"They're all unhinged! They're mad as the sky! They've spent so many centuries with their heads up Heaven's ass that they think they're better than us!"

"Telling us how to live, saying we should give our children to others to raise, lecturing how we should abandon our properties, saying our history is full of lies, claiming they know the truth of the world and will share it with us if only we abandon our 'attachments.' It's nonsense!"

"Don't forget one of their favorite tricks—we'll feel 'free' if we follow their advice! It's lunacy!"

"That, too. And then they go ahead and steal some of our food like they themselves own it!"

"The fucking hypocrites! They say they care about everyone, but they only care about themselves."

"Yeah! They say they love the world, but they love only their interpretation of the world! They shit on our beliefs and histories! They want everyone to be just like them!"

"They want a world of only Air, and they want everyone who disagrees to be 'enlightened.' That's why they keep telling us to give our children to others to raise! They want to separate them from their inheritance that we, as their parents, are supposed to pass to them! All it takes is one generation being separated from its previous generations to destroy everything—to destroy everything we've ever done, built, taught, and made!"

"One link in the chain gets snapped, disconnected, and it all goes to shit. But that's what they want!"

"They probably don't even realize that's what happened to them! The damned cowards! They say our history is full of lies, but it's our history that tells when they started their nonsense!"

"Kuruk's reign, right?"

"Of course. It was something about the Western Air Temple or something. But Kuruk let it happen—I fucking hate that guy."

"Kyoshi wasn't much better."

"True. She was a stupid bitch, but at least she learned to try, even though it came too late. She was probably better than Roku, though."

"I think Roku was better. He stopped Sozin's invasion of the west."

"But Roku died so fucking young, which is his biggest failing of all! If he lived longer, he would have done so much better than Kyoshi and Kuruk. I didn't think an Avatar could die that young—I thought The Avatar wasn't like us."

"He's not."

"You think the newest Avatar will care?"

"Being born of Air? He won't care about anything but Air—just like his race!"

Aang was horrified because the truth was so obvious to him—Sozin's lies were more deeply entrenched in the world than he had ever thought!

"We'll kill him if we have to! He'll come and take our kids, filling their heads with lies, trying to get us to abandon our properties and rights!"

"We'll rip that stolen cloak off his back and give it back to the man he stole it from!"

Aang watched as it happened, numb—his waiter tensed before glancing at him in the corner, gaze evaluative and suspicious. When the waiter's eyes rooted on his open chest, Aang knew he was discovered.

He did nothing as the waiter grabbed the man who warned the tavern of an Arrowhead's presence, but he did listen to what was said through his airbending.

"He's here," the waiter whispered, clearly not wanting to provoke a panic. "He's in the corner. See him? He's got the cloak, and he's bare underneath. Look how he hides his hands. And I saw him standing earlier—he's tall."

"It could be him," the man responded, staring down at him, and Aang only stared back, revealing nothing on his face. "But that could be his own cloak. It looks too small for him, but it fits well enough. And he may not have a shirt on because it's hot out. But look at his hair. You ever seen an Arrowhead with hair?"

"No. But look at the shape of his face; look at his eyes! And he ordered vegetables to eat. Too much adds up."

"Fuck, it is him," the man breathed, stiffening, staring at him in a new light.

Aang didn't get up as his waiter and the man approached his table; he assessed the other customers, none of whom were aware of what was happening and felt absurdly grateful they were too busy slandering his race. What had the world come to? It was supposed to be wonderful and beautiful in his true time!

"What are you doing here?" the man demanded, standing over him as best he could, trying to intimidate him.

"I'm only here for the food," Aang defended. "Nothing more. I was hungry."

"And I bet you weren't planning on paying, either!" the man sneered, glaring at him. "You were just going to steal our food like your kind always does!"

Aang couldn't contain his hesitation due to his lack of coins, which he knew made him look guilty. "We'll work something out," he promised.

A prickling silence blanketed the tavern as the other customers grew quiet. It seemed the other inhabitants realized what was happening as they slowly came over; he saw it in their faces. They knew he was of Air. He was trapped in his seat with no exit available as the crowd intensified with burly bodies gleaming with sweat—unless he made an exit for himself.

"Like I said, I'm only here for the food," Aang repeated, watching them, looking for a sign of attack.

"Here's the food you eat!" one of the leading men yelled as he reached behind his back, slipped his hand into his pants, before his hand popped out in a closed fist.

Aang stared at the fist. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Next time I take a shit, I'll pull it into my hand and give it you to eat! You'll be thanking me, won't you? You only deserve our food when it's been shit out first! You want free food, don't you? That's free!"

The men around him laughed and commended the man, and some of them committed the same action, holding closed fists in front of him.

A trembling exhale escaped him. "You're lying- "

"You would know! You're all liars! Tricksters! We've taken your shit long enough—now you deserve our shit! You Air cunts deserve shit for food!"

He stiffened, and he felt his fingers grip the edge of the table, compressing the wood from the strength in his body, bolstered by the hatred shaking his heart. "You have one chance," he whispered, trembling, gritting his teeth. "Apologize now, or it will be you who won't know shit from food."

The man smashed his fist on the table, eyes glinting with scorn. "No!"

Aang snarled and smashed the man back with a powerful gust of air, blasting everyone back in a heap of limbs. He noticed that some landed terribly, heard bones breaking, followed by screams of agony, but he didn't care. He stomped towards the accuser, batted aside any attacks thrown at him, and unleashed a whirlwind of power that erupted through the tavern, destroying everything in sight, splintering the other inhabitants with wood and metal.

He snared the accuser by his garb and glared into his furious, terrified eyes. He lashed out and heaved him through the tavern's wall, where he crashed into the open street, kicking up a haze of dirt, but Aang waved his hand, and all the dirt cleared instantly.

Just before he was going to dash through the hole, a stampede of feet rushed at him from behind, and Aang whirled around, saw the gleam of the knife, and jumped to the side before he smashed the man through the other wall. He felt the ground rumble and avoided the spike sprouting with vicious intensity while, simultaneously, he spun around and leaped over the earth wave crashing toward him. When he landed, the earth opened before him, but he blew himself out of it. He hung from the ceiling for several moments, watching the chaos below.

The tavern was no longer a tavern; it resembled more a warzone.

There were unmoving bodies and bleeding bodies everywhere, but there were men screaming at him and shouting at each other to combine their attacks and watch out, to be careful, and 'kill the cunt.'

Aang had enough; he let go of his grip on the ceiling and floated on a howling tornado that sucked in debris and unmoving bodies before spitting them out at the others, who fled out of the shaking tavern. He followed them out and rotated his hands, creating a large airball that sucked in all the air around him, creating a powerful vortex that he tossed forward, watching in satisfaction how the massive crowd of people were knocked off balance.

He dismissed his tornado and landed gently before marching toward the accuser, who held his shoulder and was yelling at a woman to leave and get help, warning them of the 'Air cunt.'

The hatred built inside, and Aang swiped his hand and sent the accuser flying through the air until he crashed hard on his injured shoulder, which produced a haunting scream as bones cracked audibly.

Aang didn't care as he jumped and landed before the accuser. "Apologize!" he roared, squeezing his fist, and the accuser screamed in pain as he was being crushed by the air around him.

"Stop it!" the terrified woman shrieked, running at him. She placed herself in between him and who he realized was her husband or lover—or brother, perhaps. "Please," she breathed, voice trembling, eyes bulging in horror. "Please stop, sir."

Aang stared at the woman with furious eyes. "You think this is bad?" he scoffed, knowing what would happen to his race if he failed to stop Sozin in time—failed to kill him. He glanced around at the people slowly picking themselves up gingerly from the ground. "This is nothing. There's no one dead here! Look around—you're all alive. You have no idea what can happen to anyone, and you think this is bad? I could kill this entire village, and no one could stop me." He laughed hysterically as he released the accuser from his hold. "But does the world care? No, it doesn't! And you don't care, either! No one cares! Only I care! Me! Me! And I've realized the truth now. It was never me, was it? It was never me who let it reach this point of ignorance and apathy—it was all of you! You're at fault for all of this! You're to blame for Evil's rising! You're all pathetic! You're so stupid that you believe Sozin's lies!"

A new crowd formed around him of bruised, battered, and bloodied bodies, but they weren't only men; there were now women and children strengthening the crowd. It seemed the entire town had appeared and was surrounding him.

"Daddy!" a young boy squealed in fear, forcing his way through the crowd with light grunts. The boy dashed to the accuser, bypassing the woman, who still glared up at him with fear in her eyes, and the accuser grunted against Aang's hold but couldn't move.

"Get behind me," the accuser grunted to his son. "Now! You need to get behind me."

The boy did as instructed, protected by his father's large frame, but peeked his head out.

Aang froze as the terrified boy stared up at him with angry, red eyes, wider than normal, brimming with horrified tears. He recognized himself in the terrified boy, and, worse, he saw how he looked to the boy in the reflection of his eyes, magnified by the thick tears therein; he looked monstrous and powerful, larger than life—so like Aang had always seen Sozin.

He released the accuser immediately, ashamed but angry. Why did he keep messing up? "Sorry," he muttered, though he knew no one believed him. He wasn't even sure he believed himself.

"Just go," the woman hissed.

He watched the woman for several moments. "What do you think of Air?" he asked quietly.

The woman's eyes filled with ire, shading the tears therein to an eerie green. "You have to ask after what you've done?"

"Don't think about me," Aang dismissed. "I'm the worst of my race—I know. Think of Air without me. What do you think of them?"

"I think you know."

"Mommy," the terrified boy whispered from behind the accuser. "Are you okay?"

The woman smiled tightly before looking behind her. "I'm alright, sweetie. Just stay there, okay? Stay with Daddy."

When the woman turned back to him, there was a look of relief on her face, which he realized quickly was born of her relief of not being struck while her back was turned.

Because, to her, he was an enemy, who would strike when the back was turned.

Aang felt the town's judgment slam against him but let it brush off him. He decided to take care of everything he needed now. After all, they couldn't look at him worse than they did. His reputation couldn't get any worse—not that he cared. His reputation didn't matter. Only Air mattered forever!

"You're going to pay for my meal I just ate," he judged, staring down at the accuser, uncaring of the scene around him, uncaring of the crowd forming around him in hatred and fear—a deadly combination against anyone but him. He only cared about his race. "It was two coins worth. Give me two coins."

The accuser's glare darkened before he reached into his jacket and pulled out two coins and handed them to him with erratic movements, every move made in dread. Aang grabbed the coins and searched the crowd, passing furious face after furious face until he found the man who served him his food. He pointed to him and, using metalbending, let the coins hover in the air before they zoomed toward his waiter before hovering again right in front of him, waiting for him to take them.

Let them all think it was airbending—he didn't care.

Why should he care about them when they didn't care about Air, when they specifically called his race 'cunts' unworthy of food to eat to sustain themselves? They were like Sozin! Had Sozin clouded the entire world so precisely that there was no reason or honesty? How did Sozin do it?

He had even more work to do than he thought!

"I'm sorry about the mess," he added, raising his voice to speak to all of them as he stared at the wreckage of the tavern; it was terrible. It would take substantial efforts to rebuild it, and that didn't discount the many injuries they suffered by his hands. "I know you don't believe me, but I wish this didn't happen."

He wished they weren't so stupid to believe Sozin's lies about Air.

"I'm going to leave now, and I don't want to fight," Aang continued, staring into everyone's eyes, letting the judgment and hatred he saw directed at him wash over him before vanishing—none of it mattered. "But I do need coins for my journey. I would hate to steal food and make Sozin's lies the truth."

"But he'll steal our coins instead," someone in the crowd muttered.

Aang inhaled with a hiss. "I guess I'm unleashing all my crimes now rather than spreading them out. Isn't that better? Now who's willing to give me coins? My race teaches that sharing resources is the ultimate sign of love."

One of the men in the crowd sneered. "We don't love you!"

"Who will step up and reach reconciliation?" he asked, voice becoming more desperate as he searched everyone's eyes for a glimmer of possibility. There was none. "Do none of you want peace?"

Silence.

He gave up, picked a man out of the crowd, and pointed at him. "Fine. Give me all the coins you have on you."

"I don't have any!"

Aang gripped him by his garbs, sensing the metal concealed in his jacket pockets. "Don't lie to me. You have seventeen coins in your pockets. Give them all to me."

The man paled. "How did you- "

"Lucky guess," he dismissed. "Give them to me now."

It took an extra harsh squeeze of the man's arm to force him to relinquish the coins, but Aang ensured his financial security for some of his trip—at least until he reached Ba Sing Se.

He left immediately, keeping his senses open to ensure no attack against him was made; he didn't look back.

When he exited the town, he glanced back before closing his eyes; he felt the weight of his actions, which burdened him with pesky shame, remorse, and guilty. After several moments of thought, he probed the earth with his fingers and made sure no one was watching. He focused briefly and raised a new tavern in the same shape and size, with the same interior, tables, chairs, and bar, as the previous one—all made of stone. Everyone in town would have to restock it and make adjustments with food and everything, but it was a start.

They'll probably think Devi was looking out for them.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He got in other fights.

It wasn't like what he wanted it to happen, but when he entered other towns, he needed to know. He would ask for their thoughts about Air, and they were clearly honest, which culminated in fights—many of which he started because he was so disgusted and furious over what they were saying because the lies were unbelievably!

He didn't look for forgiveness from them—he didn't care about them. He only looked to save his race, which included saving them from Sozin's vicious slander that infected the continent.

However, he noticed that the farther he traveled west, the less reactions he got from people when he asked about Air. He had started near the eastern coast of the continent and worked his way west, but once he reached the more central part of the continent, there was less animosity.

He didn't understand it.

When he reached Ba Sing Se, he tested his theory to see if it was true. He snuck into the city, hopping over the great walls, and traveling inside, going through the districts and encountering so many people.

It reminded him of his crime—the second worst decision of his life behind abandoning his race. When he murdered Ba Sing Se, he didn't care about the people inside, not in the literal moment, when wrath triggered The Avatar State, triggered by Appa's carcass, seeping dark red blood, innards spewing like they were alive—but they weren't.

Because Appa was dead.

The hatred rose and crashed over him like a flood, and he wanted it—he needed it. All that mattered was that Appa was dead—his last living link to his race, also born of Air, was killed. Nothing else mattered—no one else mattered. All that mattered was the hatred he felt, which he had denied himself ever since awakening in the damned, evil time, and he unleashed it after it had reached a boiling point. People's lives in the damned, evil time didn't matter like they did in his right time—because his right time contained the true, real world. In the damned, evil time, only a monstrous parody existed, deformed, raped, severed, incomplete, and worthless.

He stared at the people inside the city, watching so many pass by him without glancing or becoming suspicious due to his presence, and he wondered if he had murdered their descendants when he murdered Ba Sing Se after Appa was killed.

He was going to stop it from happening again—he would save Ba Sing Se and save himself from that evil crime!

When Aang asked anyone in Ba Sing Se about Air, there was much more positivity—as there should be! People supported Air and claimed Air had the right ideas about the world—finally!

"I'd live like Air if I could," one woman answered, nodding her head. "They know how to do things. I don't want anything to do with anyone. We all need to be separate from each other; we need boundaries."

"Balance," Aang supplied, understanding what she meant.

"Exactly. I've heard rumors that Sozin's thinking about restarting his invasion from years ago, stealing our resources for his race."

Aang almost notified her of Sozin's plans but spared her the horror.

"But Air doesn't have to worry about that," the woman continued, unaware of how Aang tensed. "They know how things need to be. They're alone up there in the skies like legends, and we don't have to worry about them; we don't have to worry they'll invade us or anything like Fire or maybe Chyung or Omashu. Air knows their place, but we don't know our place. I don't think anyone does but Air."

He nodded hard. "Yes. Air has everything figured out. They're the best—the greatest. Air is genius. Wise."

And much of what he heard in answer to his similar questions resembled what the woman told him, and he felt relief—and horror because he had murdered in that damned, evil time a place that had a clear understanding of Air's genius.

But the clear support of Air reassured him and soothed his irritation.

Things were looking up much more. His quest had started poorly with his encounters in the many towns, which culminated in many fights, but it was rising in health, reason, and greatness.

And it was going to end even greater.

After using some of his coins to buy a shirt from a merchant's stall to wear so he didn't have to keep holding his cloak across his chest, Aang ate a quick meal and watched as night descended over Ba Sing Se. He wouldn't stay in the city and would continue his travels, but there was something else he needed to do—something he needed to be alone to do.

Aang walked through the Lower Ring, snuck into the Middle Ring, and tunneled into the Upper Ring—it was a short journey with no one around. However, as he appeared in the Upper Ring, he sensed the Dai Li start to follow him, but he gave no sign that he was aware of them; he continued on his path to where Appa died in the Upper Ring.

When he reached the point, he inhaled slowly, trying to prevent the memory of Appa's carcass from tainting his present vision of stone, but it was useless; he watched Appa's carcass shimmer into existence before him—in his mind. He stared at Appa's frozen chest and rigid legs, some of which arched in the air at an unnatural angle; he stared at the gaping wound opened by Ozai's precise lightning strike.

"It won't happen again," he whispered, the words passing his throat like a pained breeze. "It won't. I'm stopping everything, including this."

He knelt, dug his finger into the ground, and began to carve with earthbending, following his instincts, inscribing a message—a memorial—in elaborate, beautiful script. Once he was done, he reviewed his work and realized with a start that it was written in the same language Wan used when he etched his script into the Tree of Time's bark.

Here died millions unworthy of it when only one was—me. You suffered under a proud, stupid king, and you paid the price because of my hatred. I'm sorry. I took your lives and watered the continent's soil with your blood, enough of which to stretch from the east to the west. Your loved ones heard the horror and had to live with it, but now, only I live with it—because I change What Is to make it What Was. What Was is now What Is, as it should be. This crime only exists in my memory and will never happen now. May it be enough.

Aang sighed as he stood to his feet, knowing it might cause a stir of curiosity in the Upper Ring, but he couldn't bring himself to care. No one could decipher it, which was all that mattered.

"Step away from your graffiti."

He had been wondering when the Dai Li agents would reveal themselves through speech; he had been aware of them standing behind him, watching and analyzing, silent but judgmental.

Aang complied and turned around. "It's not graffiti," he corrected.

"Who are you?" one of the three Dai Li agents asked, and all Aang could see was the last time he saw the Dai Li—siding with Ozai against him, trying to kill him.

Instead, he took a deep breath. "No one important."

"We don't believe you."

"I don't care what you believe."

One of the Dai Li agents looked at the script carved into the ground. "What does it say?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

The Dai Li agents glanced at each other. "You need to come with us."

Aang sighed. "That's not happening."

Their gazes darkened. "You do not have a choice- "

"You do not have the choice to influence my choices," Aang interrupted. "Leave me now; let me remember and mourn in peace."

"We are prepared to make this unpleasant- "

He scoffed. "You don't know the meaning of the word. I can make this unpleasant." He closed his eyes briefly in guilt, seeing the flashes of his rampage. "You don't want it."

Aang watched the rock glove dash through the air toward him but when it reached him, he punched it, shattering it. Other rock gloves replicated the attack, but Aang replied equally, shattering each glove with a swift punch.

Before things could escalate, Aang stomped his foot and sucked the agents into the ground and confined them there, squeezing them in place; only their heads were visible. They struggled extensively, faces reddening in effort, but Aang simply held them in place, overpowering their earthbending with his own; he was stronger than them.

He was stronger than anyone and would unleash his strength on Sozin!

Aang crouched in front of the three trapped Dai Li agents. "That was a poor strategy," he commented. "You never change. Just know that once I'm done with everything else, I'll come back here and conduct research; I'll make sure you're not doing anything you're not supposed to be doing. Make of that what you will."

"You're a half-spawn," one of the agents observed, voice flat. "Was your mother or father of Air?"

"Father," Aang lied, knowing it made a lot more sense. "But now you owe me compensation for revealing that knowledge. Give me all the coins you have on you."

"Thief," one of them sneered, emotion coloring his voice. "Are you a murderer, too?"

"Yes, but not of you," he clarified. "I'm going to release you, and you're going to give me your coins. You're not going to fight me or try to attack me. You know the result. I am much stronger than you. Be wise."

Aang released them, and none of the Dai Li agents attacked him. "We will find you," one of them swore.

"And we will bring more agents to apprehend you," another added.

He smiled slightly and motioned with his hand. "Your coins," he ordered. "Be thankful I'm only asking for coins."

Because he didn't like the Dai Li, he felt no guilt for taking their coins and humiliating them.

XxXxXxXxXxX

After leaving Ba Sing Se, he continued his journey and felt relieved that nothing exceptional happened; there were no more fights, and there were no more idiots who seemed to believe Sozin's lies. It seemed strange that the people on the eastern coast of the continent believed Sozin's lies while no one in the central part and, presumably, western coast did when it would be so much easier to convince the western and central parts because the Fire Nation was to the west and could intensify its focused deceptions so much easier on the western and central part before expanding outward. It didn't make sense at all, but he didn't think about it too hard.

He had better things to think about.

Days and nights passed quickly, and he lost track of what day it was, and in what week he was, but he wasn't concerned—he knew he still had a lot of time to spare to reach the Fire Nation, and he knew he was already halfway across the continent. He encountered other travelers on his journey, and while he was confused and disappointed that none of the other travelers were Air Nomads, his spirits were high—he felt better than he ever had! —because he basked in being in his right time, the true time of the world when everything made sense and was whole.

He was going to save his race and the world, preventing Evil's victory!

When he reached Omashu, it was in the middle of the night, and though he knew he needed to keep going to get to the Fire Nation as swiftly as possible, Aang snuck into the city and avoided detection by everyone, concealing himself from guards and not triggering any alarms or animals. He was surprised how easily he remembered the route to Bumi's childhood home, for it had been so many years for him since he had visited, for so many of his newer memories were of Bumi when he was distractingly old, but he followed the path and made the turns when necessary, glimpsing the familiar sights and other houses as he passed.

He snuck into Bumi's home, using his senses to make sure that everyone—Bumi and his father—was asleep, and crept through the rooms. Memories assaulted him of when he would visit with Gyatso, who would tell him to go play with Bumi and have fun while he had business to discuss with Bumi's father. He never knew how or why Gyatso and Bumi's father knew each other or why he and Gyatso took so many trips to visit Omashu during the years, but it was something he knew he could uncover in his right time—because there was nothing but time!

Aang inhaled slowly as he entered Bumi's room, freezing in place when he saw Bumi lying, asleep, in bed; his friend looked as his friend was supposed to look rather than old and different! His friend was his friend! It was Bumi—Bumi! He crept closer to Bumi's bed and crouched in front of him, watching him as he slept, oblivious to his presence, hair tangled over his brows and falling into his closed but crooked eyes.

He was tempted to wake Bumi, but he knew that Bumi would probably attack him, not believing he was Aang at all. For all of Bumi's crazy genius, there were some things beyond him, especially when he was sixteen years old.

"Things will be different this time," Aang vowed softly, memorizing Bumi as he was supposed to be. "I won't let it happen, not this time. We'll be together again, and we'll do everything we always said we'd do—I promise. You won't lose me, Bumi, and I won't lose you. I won't let anything happen to you. I'll help you become king if you want, but I don't know how you did it before. But I'll do whatever you want to do. We can ride the mail chutes; we can flirt with girls, though you'll have way more success than me; we can explore the old mountains and look for the ancient ruins and temples you told me about; we can live as were meant to; we can be friends as we were meant to. And maybe you can teach me earthbending this time—as it should be."

Bumi remained in slumber, snoring with a nasal echo, and Aang took comfort in the familiar sound—because it was familiar due to him being in his right time!

"We're not going to be over like we were before," he continued. "We won't miss each other by a hundred years. I never apologized to you for that. I made you live a century in the worst time imaginable because I was stupid and weak—more pathetic than anyone to ever live. I'm sorry for that, Bumi, but it won't happen again. That's not going to be your fate, and it's not going to be mine. You won't hear news of Air's murder, and you won't have to travel to the Southern Temple to see the decimation firsthand for yourself—to make you believe the unholy truth. I know it haunted you your whole life, but you don't have to worry about that again—not anymore. And your dad's not going to kill himself to escape his debt. I'm sorry I can't remember his name, but he won't. I know you don't like your dad, but he's better than not having anyone, trust me."

Bumi jostled on his bed for several moments, snores growing louder and almost violent as he turned to a new position, asleep still.

Aang smiled softly. "My friend," he whispered. "You're my friend. And I tell you now that you won't have to fight a Great War—you won't have to be lost in the mud and gore for decades, fighting on the front lines against Fire. You won't have to be a warrior-king. You're going to be yourself, Bumi, not what the Great War turned you into; you're going to be you." He stood to his feet and placed a gentle hand on Bumi's head, feeling the wild hair. "And I'm going to see you again. I'll see you soon."

He memorized Bumi for several moments before he left Bumi's childhood, feeling hopeful and lighter. But before he left Omashu, he decided to take a ride by himself on one of the mail chutes to celebrate his vow.

And there would be so much more celebration after he succeeded in his quest!

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Colonies weren't the Colonies, and Aang felt ashamed that he couldn't remember what their true names were. The structures and layouts were different, contrasting violently with his memories in that damned, evil time in which Fire had wiped out the old cities, structures, and buildings to plant their colonies on the continent, which became an amalgamation of Fire and Earth, an admixture that resulted in half-spawns who spread across the continent, going to the east to avoid one half of their lineage.

Despite the external change to the layout and even shape of the land, the internal seemed the same—it was something familiar to him. There was a particular hostility clouding the air, directed at Fire across the ocean, and they spoke about it openly, which Aang appreciated.

They were honest.

When he asked a middle-aged man, an evident half-spawn based on his features and face shape, why preparations weren't being made for a possible invasion since so many people openly talked about a possible invasion, it wasn't what he expected.

"No one believes us," the middle-aged man said. "My mother's old enough to remember, and she says that Fire's activity mimics what happened decades ago when Fire invaded and took our resources for their own, starving many of us, and settling with some of our women."

"Like your mother," Aang observed, not having the heart to tell the man that Fire's activity was a result of not wanting to invade Earth but Air.

The man nodded. "I have vague memories of my father. He left when I was young after Fire retreated; he returned to his homeland. He was duty-bound."

"Duty is important to Fire," he recalled, remembering Zuko and Azula's lessons to him. "It's born of their belief for Tradition, out of which Duty forms, out of which Honor forms. It's complicated."

"It's nonsense. But I may see him again. Fire will invade again. I don't know if it will be in my lifetime, but it will happen—I know it."

Aang knew it, too, but he would prevent it from happening! "But you said no one believes you," he pointed out. "Don't you need to prepare- "

"We've spoken with Chyung, but Chyung refuses; it's king doesn't believe us and refuses to spare a single resource for us. We tried Omashu, too, but it was the same response. If Fire invades, we will be slaughtered."

"Why not leave?"

"I'd rather die defending my home than leave it."

Aang understood the man's conviction and admired it—he felt the same about the Air Temples.

"What do you think about Air?"

The man shrugged and eyed him. "I'm not the only half-spawn, am I?"

"It would seem that way," he replied.

"Father or mother?"

"Father."

The man nodded. "It's your eyes. The stories always say that those of Air have gray eyes, and your eyes are grayer than any storm I've ever seen. Then there's your stature and face shape, too."

Aang smiled slightly. "Thank you. What do you think about Air?"

"I don't really care one way or the other about them. I've never seen one. I've heard stories, but that's it, and that's how I figured you were a half-spawn—that, and the fact you don't look like anyone around here. You don't look Earth like the others do." Something suspicious entered the man's eyes as he assessed him. "You're not even a half-spawn, are you? You're an Air Nomad. I see no Earth in you."

He recalled the towns on the eastern coast and their animosity towards Air and the many fights he fought against them. "Not a half-spawn," he confirmed, watching the man.

But instead of attacking him or accusing him of crimes born of Sozin's lies, the man simply nodded. "Thought so. It's nice to meet you. I've never met an Air Nomad before. You're taller than I thought Air Nomads would be. And I never imagined you with dark hair."

Aang remembered Gyatso and smiled. "We have light hair. I think I'm one of the only ones who doesn't as far as I know. But we shave our heads."

"Why isn't yours shaved?"

"Anonymity."

"Makes sense," the man commented. "I've heard some people don't like Air."

Aang's jaw clenched for a moment. "Do you know why? I've encountered those people who don't like Air."

The man sighed. "They have their reasons—never pretend they don't—but I don't know the reasons."

"It's all a bunch of lies spread by Sozin," Aang dismissed. "And they believe the lies. They're weak." He assessed the man and wondered at the disparity between the western coast and eastern coast of the continent. "Surely you've heard Sozin's lies about Air."

"The Fire Lord?" the man asked, brows furrowing. "I've never heard anything about him lying about Air. I didn't know he cared enough about Air to lie about them."

Aang's fists clenched. "I guarantee you—he cares enough. He cares too much. I just don't understand how the eastern coast believes all the lies—has heard all the lies—while you, on the western coast, haven't heard anything when you're so much closer to the Fire Nation."

"Then you have to ask a simple question—are you sure it's all lies?"

He scoffed. "I'm more sure than anything."

The man must have seen something on his face or in his eyes as he raised his hands. "I believe you. But I don't know what to tell you. Maybe the Fire Lord sent spies or something."

Aang felt dissatisfied with the theory, for he knew there was something deeper to it, but he nodded in agreement. "I think you're right."

"And I think your race did things the right way—sitting up in their temples on the mountains. No one can invade them, and they're free from that threat. They don't have to worry."

Aang's eyes closed as he knew the man was wrong—so terribly wrong—about his race's presumed safety from invaders. "We live in the temples to obtain enlightenment."

"If it means security from invasion, I'd do the same. Anything is better than living in fear for an invasion." The man looked around before glancing back at him, something somber and muted on his face. "Especially an invasion by your own kin," he whispered. "If a man rushes at me with fire spurting from his fists, is he my cousin? My brother? I don't know. If I didn't know my father's age, I'd think I'd run into him on the battlefield."

"You won't have to worry about that," he assured. "Fire's not going to invade. There's not going to be a war."

"I never said anything about a war," the man pointed out but nodded. "But I get what you mean. But if there is a war, I'm convinced that our kings wouldn't do anything to help us, at least not before it's too late. Ever since the Conqueror was born to us here, they've never trusted us."

Aang blinked. "Chin the Conqueror was born in these lands?"

The man's brow rose as he gestured around. "He was born in this village. He used to patrol the coast for a possible invasion from Fire; he monitored the trade and merchants who came here. Some say his encounters with Fire are what gave him the idea to unify Earth under his line."

"As Fire is unified under one line," he whispered in understanding.

"But the Earth kings have hated us ever since," the man continued. "They blame us for their forefathers' fates. They say if the Conqueror wasn't born to us, so many lines wouldn't have been wiped out when he began his quest. But he was born to us, and he was situated perfectly to grow in an environment where he became his own man and answered to no one—to no king."

Aang watched the man's face. "Sounds like you admire him."

The man sighed. "Maybe. He went too far, certainly, but he wasn't wrong when he said the kings hoarded our history for themselves, keeping us subservient to them—easily able to control us and bend us to their wills. His criticism was correct—his execution was wrong, so wrong. The kings don't live like we do; they live sheltered lives. I doubt any of them know how to fight. They don't do anything; they don't help us. They only help themselves and those who have their favor."

He remembered Bumi and smiled slightly. "There will be a King of Earth one day who proves you wrong."

"I don't think I'll be alive to see it."

"I think you will."

Aang continued his journey through the Colonies that weren't the Colonies, finding something restorative in the familiar hostility and fear toward Fire; it was so much better than hostility and fear toward Air, which made no sense! Again, it befuddled him why nobody in the west had animosity toward Air when the east did when the west was so much closer to the Fire Nation and Sozin, which was the source of the east's animosity toward Air because the east was too stupid and believed Sozin's foul deceptions about his race.

But there were no answers, which irked him, but he knew it didn't matter because the only thing that mattered was saving his race.

As he journeyed closer to the coast, only resting to eat and gather water for himself to keep hydrated, Aang felt the yearning to sleep.

When was the last time he slept?

It was painfully obvious that he hadn't slept once since he traveled back to his right time, but he knew if he closed his eyes, he might awaken in the Tree, which meant he would have to do it all over again. He pushed himself hard, going and going, never stopping, even as the days cycled into nights and the nights cycled into days. He was on limited time, and unlike others, his body could bear the strain as his energy was beyond anyone else's.

After he reached the tip of the continent, hugging the western coast, he recognized it as the forest and mountain columns where he and Ozai had battled during Sozin's Comet. He leaped onto one of the gigantic pillars of rock and allowed himself several minutes of rest as he overlooked the horizon. Agni rose in the distance, warming the world from the chilly night, but Aang glared at the light.

"If you do anything to stop me, I'll kill you again," he warned, not caring if Agni heard him or not; it was a vow he intended to uphold forever. "I know you don't believe me, have no idea what I'm talking about, but what you do know is that I am capable of killing you. I haven't done it in any of my lifetimes before, but the power to end you has always been mine as long as my existence has spanned. Before, I never dared harm you or your siblings. But I don't have that restraint anymore. This is your single warning, Agni—stay out of my way and abide by my will. This is bigger than your pettiness."

As expected, Agni didn't appear to fight him or talk to him, and Aang watched Agni's light glimmer off the ocean in a radiant, warm hue. He watched the light slowly expand, stretching over the battlefield that was no longer a battlefield, warming the rocks, and stirring the creatures below.

He remembered Ozai's potent assault against him during Sozin's Comet, and Aang hopped to his feet, watching the scene play out in front of his eyes. He followed along as the battle occurred in the visuals born of his memories that never faded; he hopped from pillar to pillar, watching Ozai's relentless attack against him and making the movements—the bending forms—he committed then to defend himself. Ozai never stopped, and no matter the elements he used, he was losing, overwhelmed by a much more capable and experienced warrior—a mature man so powerful in his firebending that it emanated like a thick smoke.

The fight evolved, and Aang pretended to redirect Ozai's tremendous lighting blast into the sky and fall to his knees in exhaustion atop one of the rock columns. Upon sensing Ozai's continued assault, he struggled to his feet and raised the wall to protect himself from the plume blazing toward him, and he leaped off the pillar and fell to the bay below, letting the wind strike him violently as he remembered. At the last second, he replicated his waterbending rescue, swallowing him in the cove before he rose for desperate air. He looked back, gaze flying up, seeing Ozai blaze down toward him with a triumphant expression on his noble face, and he dashed to the shore and formed a spherical shield of earth to protect himself.

Ozai's cruel laughter erupted as he sat in the sphere. "Weak!" Ozai howled. "Exactly like the rest of your race! They did not deserve to live in this world—in my world! Prepare to join them, Avatar! Prepare to die!"

He recalled struggling extensively against Ozai's searing strikes against his protective sphere, terrified, wondering if he was going to die and see his race again—see Gyatso again. And he had known the truth as easy as he always did, deep down—he wasn't ready to face Ozai; he never would be. And he had known his failure was his penance for failing his race because he had failed them—he failed them more than he had ever failed anyone. He wondered about Katara, Sokka, Toph, Zuko, and Suki, hoping that they were succeeding in their attacks; he hoped they would forgive him for failing to stop Ozai, hoped they would forgive him for never being anything more than a weak, stupid kid.

Sitting inside his replicated sphere, Aang quivered his arms, holding himself in place, imagining Ozai's attacks slamming against him, and he jarred the sphere where it needed to go, guided by his memory, rolling and tumbling as necessary. Looking back now, he conceived of dozens upon dozens of ways to escape and push Ozai back, killing him quickly, but those were not his thoughts then; he was immature—a boy who knew nothing except his fear. He only wanted to hide and hope that Ozai lost interest and left him alone, seeking to continue his assault against the Earth Kingdom, which would allow him to return to surprise him in a sneak-attack. He thought if he stopped fighting, Ozai would leave him be, seeing him as a waste of his limited time under Sozin's Comet; he thought Ozai would show mercy and let a child live, no matter how threatening the child was.

How far away he was from that boy, who was much closer to that weak, stupid boy—the Boy!—who abandoned his race!

But Ozai wouldn't leave him alone, hollering outside the sphere, threatening him, boasting of his superiority—of Fire's superiority—versus Air's timorous nature, of which he was born.

"My grandfather was right about your race!" Ozai shouted from outside the sphere, followed by a devastating plume of flames that intensified the heat inside the sphere, causing him to sweat and gasp, both in terror and for fresh air. "We destroyed you in a single day! And now I destroy you, despite your power of the world, in minutes! You limit yourself, you child! You lack all survival instincts! I will let you die with your mistakes—as your race did with theirs!"

The assault continued with even more relentless intensity, and Aang recalled the hope in his chest dying that Ozai would leave him alone, for he realized that Ozai never would, even if it meant that he didn't get to destroy the Earth Kingdom. He tried to think, but the roar of flames outside was so loud that he couldn't think of anything except how it would feel when the flames scorched his flesh and blackened his bones; he couldn't think of anything except how his race—how Gyatso!—must have died in a similar state under Firebenders strengthened by Sozin's Comet a century previously, and there had been part of him that was relieved and proud to die as they did—to unite with them who were so much better than anyone he had ever known. Dying like they did would connect him to them more deeply than he deserved because he didn't feel as connected to them as he should; every day that passed without them in the world disconnected him from them more and more, and he feared the day when he felt nothing for his race, too disconnected from them to feel anything.

But to die as they did was a worthy death; it was a necessary death; it was a beautiful death. It was the fate he deserved—it was the fate he was owed.

"Come out, Avatar!" Ozai roared as he unleashed wave after wave of destructive flames against the sphere, and Aang recalled thinking he was about to die, which meant that all his friends were going to die, which meant the world would be in a permanent state of imbalance it could never recover from.

He had tried to regroup, to rethink his strategy and do something—do anything!—to stop Ozai, to gain an advantage, but there was nothing but his terror; he could do nothing but surrender to Ozai's overwhelming assault, bolstered by Sozin's Comet. And he waited to see his race and Gyatso again—he waited for the peace and freedom he hadn't felt ever since he learned he was The Avatar.

"You can hide from everyone else as you did for a century, but you cannot hide from me!"

The consuming wave destroyed the sphere, and Aang let his new sphere crumble and pushed himself back and arched against the jagged rock that slammed into his scar on his back, dispersing the knot of primordial energy, which saved the world.

He recalled the instant awakening when it happened and the transcendence that washed over him, banishing his worries and healing his body immediately of everything to ever happen to it since Ba Sing Se fell. His body, senses, and spirit felt whole for the first time since Ba Sing Se as the power was there, shivering with totality to be held and used, to revel in its brilliance, intense and overwhelming as his chi flow's hindrances vanished.

The tsunami of power flooded his body in a raging fire beyond Agni as his predecessors were there with him, soothing him. "We are with you now, Aang," they all whispered in gentle unison, consoling him. His soul had awakened after the forced slumber, and he was no longer blind, deprived of his senses, numb to everything around him.

The fight ended swiftly after The Avatar State activated, and Aang flew around in a sphere of air, calling the elements to answer him simultaneously, retracing the path he took as Ozai fled from him in terror. He replicated each movement, raising columns into the air, and causing a scene of destruction; he knew that his actions could be felt back in the Colonies that were no longer the Colonies, but he continued going, reliving the experience—because it would never happen again. He continued his hunt.

He smashed through one of the columns and blazed down toward Ozai, who narrowly avoided a deadly blow, but he didn't let up, going after Ozai, faster and faster until he lashed out and snared a foot with waterbending. He slammed Ozai on top of one of the columns and locked his limbs in place, hailing his judgment. He went to kill Ozai, but he stopped at the last moment. Aang wanted to erase the failure and kill Ozai, but he knew his memories didn't reflect such a reality.

He spared Ozai and exited The Avatar State, electing instead to smother Ozai's firebending.

It was the end of Ozai's reign.

Aang closed his eyes and banished the memories from his mind before he overlooked the horizon once more; Agni's light was much higher than previously. "Not in this time," he whispered.

After making sure there was no one near him who had come to investigate the source of all the chaos, he took off across the ocean, running across the water.

XxXxXxXxXxX

It was a tiring journey across the ocean, and at some points he let himself sink into the water to relax his muscles; at other points he wrapped his limbs in ice and let himself float for a while, giving him a brief reprieve that allowed him to focus on his plan.

He needed to reach the Caldera and find Sozin, confront him, denounce him, torture him, and kill him. There were two strategies that he could discern for his approach. He could make a massive entrance, reveal himself as The Avatar, and cut down anyone who stood against him in his pursuit for Sozin, but he didn't want a grand scene or anything; he wanted to act subtlety, striking like a shadow—striking like the wind, unseen and unheard before it was too late. He wanted Sozin to be alone, deprived of everything he knew, unable to call for help—isolated to the extreme as Aang had felt for nine years. He wanted Sozin to beg for his life, fall to his knees, and apologize profusely for his sins, humiliated to know that the Fire Lord had no one to help him but himself—but it was futile to stand against The Avatar.

Would he kidnap Sozin? Would he take him out of the Caldera and to the Southern Temple with him to humiliate him even more, forcing him to see that he was beaten forever? Would he throw Sozin into the skies and let him fall to his death? Would he smother Sozin's firebending, inflicting on him the ultimate shame and dishonor, before killing him? Would he harm Sozin's wife in front of him, making him feel the powerlessness he had felt for nine years? What about Azulon, who certainly lived in his mother's womb? Would he kill Azulon in front of Sozin, depriving him of the heir for whom he had waited decades? Would he drown Sozin with his own tears? Would he inflict on Sozin everything—all the atrocities—he knew was inflicted against his race during Sozin's Comet?

He didn't know.

"You must be creative," Azula would probably say. "This moment has gnawed at you for nine years; it has haunted you for a lifetime—the new life you had to live because he stole your old one from you. There came a day when not a day passed without you fantasizing about his death and its nature. Will you fulfill the expectations you feel?"

Aang nodded, hair dipping into the ocean. "I'm going to."

He imagined Azula's brief laugh. "Of course, you are. None can stand against you—you are The Avatar. Slumbering within you is the wrath of primordial totality. You do not have only your creativity to wield; you have The Avatar's creativity. You crushed King Kuei's head between your glowing hands, rupturing his skull and obliterating his brain, which dripped from your fingers in a mush of flecks and blood. You will think of something even more memorable to destroy Sozin, whom you hate with the passion of love."

"I'm going to throw him into the Void of Eternity, body and all."

"You must be sure he will not know your plan," Azula would probably point out. "He might kill himself if you boast of your plan."

"I'm not the boasting type."

"Not yet."

Aang banished thoughts of her from his mind—she didn't matter, not now! He was never going to see her again! Though he loved her, he loved Air more, and sacrificing her, Zuko, Katara, Sokka, and Toph was worth it to ensure Air's survival, and he knew they all would make the same sacrifice in his position.

But maybe he would see Azula again; maybe he would see all of them again. It would take him over a century to see them again, but maybe he would see them again, and he could look over them from time to time, watching them live their lives in a true world rather than a parody of one. Since he was no longer the Last Airbender because Air was alive and healthy, brimming with Airbenders, he didn't have to marry; he could wait. Maybe once Azula was born and matured, growing into a woman, he could meet her again. Maybe they could marry then. The age difference didn't bother him at all, and he knew it wouldn't bother Azula.

But he would only see Azula again, even a century from now, if he spared Azulon and let him live, let him sit on the Dragon's Throne and rule as Fire Lord, and Aang didn't know if he could do that.

He wanted Azulon dead—it was the logical conclusion. But he wasn't sure he could kill Azulon, not now. Maybe later. Regardless, he held no faith that Azulon could be anything other than what he became in that damned, evil time. Maybe he would make Azulon a puppet and be the power behind the Dragon's Throne himself.

Or he would kill Azulon as he should.

Aang groaned in displeasure and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to discern a solution as he floated in the ocean.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He knew immediately that he had fallen asleep as he awakened violently when a sea creature darted underneath him, waves rippling and emanating outward, ricocheting against him. And it was clear how much time had passed based on the vast diminishment of the ice he had wrapped around his limbs to keep himself afloat.

He might have slept an entire day.

"No, no," he muttered as he pulled himself to his feet, standing on the water before he dashed forward, propelling himself forward with a combination of waterbending and airbending.

However, he stopped quickly when he saw a boat near him, and Aang dropped, falling into the water, which soaked through his clothes fully. He didn't want to bring attention to himself, possibly raising an alarm that an intruder was spotted running across water into the Fire Nation, no matter how slim it was such an alarm would reach Sozin.

But he couldn't be too careful, not when it came to sneaking into the Fire Nation and hunting down Sozin to kill him. He refused to mess up his opportunity!

As the boat neared him as he swam, Aang saw the outlines in the boat and knew instantly that they were pirates. "Are you dead yet?" one of the pirates onboard hollered down at him when the boat was close enough.

"Not yet!" he answered, wondering if he should ask for their help. They might know a few things he needed to know.

"Did your ship go down?"

"I went for a swim and got swept out by the currents. I was testing my breathing."

One of the pirates leered down at him as he came close to the ship's edge. "You're not very smart, are you?"

Aang smiled tightly; he changed his mind about asking for their help. "Smart enough to avoid pirates. Have a safe trip- "

"Bring him up here!" one of the pirates—probably the leader—shouted. "He might have some coins on him, and we can dump his body once we're done."

Suddenly, a barbed net crashed over him, and Aang thrashed for several moments before he stopped, recognizing he would get caught in it the more he struggled—and it hurt to struggle with the barbs with all the seawater soaking his scratches, inflicted by the barbs! And instead of effortlessly freeing himself with his airbending, waterbending, metalbending, or firebending, he decided to let the pirates take him. He might as well try to get information from them.

After all, he knew very little about the Fire Nation during his right time.

Aang scoffed as they hauled him into the boat, not concerned with his life; they couldn't harm him. "And you were saying I wasn't smart."

One of the pirates waved a glinting knife at him while two others untangled him from the net while two others bound his arms behind him, and Aang hissed as more scratches were inflicted by the barbs. "It is smart. No one will know we killed you."

He smiled without mirth. "I'll know. Isn't that enough?"

"He is a smart one," one of the pirates quipped. "Too bad we're going to take his smarts from him! We could chop his head off!"

"Or we could sell him! Remember that other pirate crew we ran into when we were sailing the mountains by the Western Air Temple? They said they're slavers! And look at this guy! He'd fetch a great price if we could find them."

Aang was outraged that they dared discuss slavers and the Western Temple in the same breath but felt a chill descend his spine as the pirates looked at him with new interest. "He's certainly strong," one of the pirates observed, voice intrigued, and Aang flinched as rough fingers poked and prodded him and key points of his body. "Very strong. But he doesn't look like he's eaten anything in days—over a week, maybe more. I don't know how he's standing."

"That's why I thought he was a corpse when I first saw him!" another cried out. "I was more surprised than anyone when he said he's not dead yet. I bet if I stabbed him, it'd go right through—there wouldn't be any muscle or fat. Nothing."

"No, there's muscle," another corrected, hands prodding Aang's arms and shoulders. "He's a strong one. Underfed but strong."

Aang tried to glance down at himself in confused assessment, but the pirates restrained him. He had no idea what he looked like; he knew he hadn't been eating nearly as much as he needed to, especially by expending so much energy for such a long journey, but he didn't look that bad, did he? Did he look malnourished? He noted that his arms looked thinner than they should be, but that was normal during such a journey on foot and excessive use of bending consistently for weeks as he traveled across the continent by himself and taking no breaks—all with no sleep.

Right?

He tried to shake his head, but a knife was placed at his throat. One of the pirates smiled in confidence, wagging a finger at him. "You're not going anywhere."

"I have to go so somewhere," Aang said, trying to remain patient. He needed to get back on schedule. He needed to reach Sozin and kill him! "But right now, you're preventing that. If you could answer some of my questions- "

The pirate removed the knife and smacked him across the face with harsh violence. "You don't make demands! We make demands!"

Aang had enough and breathed flames out of his mouth into the pirate's face, who screamed in blood-curdling agony, hands flying to his flaming face, before he staggered the railing and fell into the ocean.

One of the pirates gasped. "Firebender!"

"He doesn't look like a Firebender!" another cried out.

"He is one! He just killed Noruo!"

The other pirates gathered behind him, working to restrain him, trying to smash his hands with their feet, but Aang was ready and slashed his fingers back. Howls of pained fury reached his ears as flames erupted like a whip, and the grip on his shoulders loosened. He rose halfway, extended his leg back, shooting more flames at the pirates and rolled forward, giving himself a new position—a favorable position with all the pirates bunched in front of him as he turned to face them, several with obvious burns across their chests and faces.

"I do have to be somewhere," Aang repeated, watching them. "If you attack me now, I will kill all of you."

One of the pirate's teeth gnashed together in displeasure. "What do you want?"

His eyes roamed over each of the pirates with analysis before he pointed at the tallest one. "And you are going to give me your clothes."

Thankfully, the clothes were unburned.

Fear entered the pirate's eyes while the others thrashed. "No, please. Anything but that."

It took several moments for Aang to realize the pirate's interpretation of his command; he cringed upon realizing and shook his head. "No, no, I'm not going to rape you. I'm trading clothes with you—that's all."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I'll tell you if you pay me for the knowledge. I doubt it would interest you that much."

The pirate undressed slowly while Aang did the same, keeping his movements slow, every move made in calculation, watching the pirates to see if one was stupid enough to try to attack him.

One was.

Right when Aang began pulling his shirt off, one of the pirates burst forward with flames on his hands and a cry of fury. He responded instantly, and it was clear that the pirate was a novice Firebender—clearly why he hadn't attacked earlier after Aang killed 'Noruo.' Aang made short work of him, avoided one blast by stepping to the side, all the while keeping an eye on the other pirates, spun around, reached out and jammed a handful of flames into his chest.

The pirate crumbled to the boat's wood with a haunting moan before he went silent.

Aang threw his body over the side, where it floated with Norou's body, face down. "Are any of you as brave as him?" he asked, looking at the bunched-up pirates.

Silence.

He continued undressing, ignoring their judgmental stares at his visible tattoo of mastery, before he dressed himself in the tall pirate's rough, scratchy clothes, which fit him all over, covering his limbs and identity—though they hung off him in bunches.

He was a lot thinner than he should be.

Aang ignored it and looked at the pirates. "You wouldn't by chance know where the Fire Lord is, would you?" he asked, keeping his voice light.

One of the pirates scoffed, face bitter and red. "Do we look like nobles?"

Aang's nose quivered. "You don't smell like them, either. You're not lying to me, are you?"

"Why would we know where the Fire Lord is?" another asked, disgruntled. "He's probably in his palace or something, fucking his new young wife."

He nodded. "Where are you coming from?"

"The Fire Nation- "

"And you were headed to the continent?"

"Yes."

"You're going back to the Fire Nation, and you're taking me with you. You'll drop me off, and I'll take it from there. You can do whatever you want after that."

He wanted to preserve his energy, though he knew he would never be able to rest truly on the boat as he would have to be on guard at all times.

One of the pirate's eyes narrowed. "And that's it?"

Aang smiled tightly. "You can do whatever you want after that within reason. If I hear about a pirate crew who's going around raping and pillaging, selling people to slavers, I'll know it was you, and I'll hunt you down—I'll find you and give Norou some friends to talk to in the Gardens of the Dead. Do we have a deal?"

"This isn't a deal!" one of the snapped, eyes frothing in poisonous outrage. "This is a command!"

"Will you follow it?" Aang asked simply. "Or must I persuade you?"

Silence.

He sighed. "I could simply throw you off this boat and take it for myself."

Another pirate looked hesitant before he sagged, but his eyes were hostile and bitter. "Fine. We'll drop you off."

Aang gestured for them to move. "Then get to it. I need to be there as soon as possible. I think we all agree that the quicker this 'deal' is over, the better. But I'll be watching, and I'll know if you try anything."

He watched as the pirates jumped into position and turned the ship around, sailing back into the Fire Nation. Aang relaxed as much as he dared onboard with enemies who clearly wanted him dead and would probably celebrate his death. He sat at the back, overseeing the pirates, making sure none of them could leave his vantage or escape his notice. While some of the pirates entered cabins and were unseen, there were no windows for sudden attacks with a bow and arrow or blowpipe, and Aang felt minimal concern for any attack as the journey continued.

The pirates avoided him thankfully and none looked at him or tried to make conversation; they wanted the journey over as quickly as Aang did.

He also used his waterbending to make the boat go faster, though none of the pirates knew it.

Eventually, a day into the trip to the Fire Nation, sailing the ocean dividing Fire's islands from Earth's continent, his eyes became heavy, and he struggled to keep them open, no matter how deeply he insisted to himself to stay awake. He felt himself nearing the edge of his limits. Combining how little sleep he had in his final weeks in that damned, evil time with the no sleep he had since returning to his right time, he hadn't slept—like, really slept—in almost two months.

His body—and mind—felt it.

Aang vowed to keep his eyes shut for only a minute or two, to find a brief solace from the gaping exhaustion that threatened to consume his soul like Death-

Something registered on the edge of his awareness, and Aang reacted on instinct, though his reaction was sluggish, tainted by his exhaustion coming out of slumber. He raised his arm, bending at the elbow, forearm parallel to his face and chest, and moved it in front of himself, and he gasped in pain, eyes springing open, when he saw a knife—it was thrown at him!—protruding out of his wrist. Pain scorched his mind with rabid acknowledgment. Bone had been pierced, and blood seeped through the slit of metal and flesh, and he looked around him with wild insistence, frantic as he ripped the knife out with a hoarse cry—it was agonizing!

The pirates rushed at him with screams of vigorous fury, other weapons—knives, swords, even a spear—held in their hands. And one of the pirates swung off the edge of the boat, skipping across the rail, but all directed at him. They hurled their knives and spears at him, and he swiped them away with minimal movements with airbending.

Too exhausted to think of anything else, Aang submerged the boat in the ocean, water tearing through all the pirates and knocking them sideways, spinning them around and spitting them out in different directions, hair billowing wildly and limbs swinging with futile desperation.

He held himself and the pirates in the churning ocean for several moments, allowing him time to wake up and gather his bearings—and let his wounds heal with his waterbending—before he raised the ship to the surface. The pirates choked for air, heaving as they sputtered on the soaking deck, grasping at each other for assurance that they were all still alive, and Aang watched them, wishing he could feel surprised.

But he only felt a grim, displeased resignation; he would have to kill all of them, especially since they would eventually put together that he was The Avatar. There was only one way that the calm ocean would rise instantly and swallow the ship, pulling everyone in every direction before returning the boat to its previous position with everyone miraculously onboard. The pirates would realize it, and they would spread the word, telling everyone with two ears to hear and a mind to decipher.

"It didn't have to go this way," he said.

One of the pirates stared at him with a terror Aang had never had directed at him when he wasn't in The Avatar State. "Avatar," the pirate croaked, bowing his head, dripping hair mushed against the soaked wood of the deck. "Please."

"You tried to kill me," Aang observed flatly, feeling no sympathy and even less mercy. If they had impossibly succeeded in killing him, his race would have been murdered all over again.

It was unacceptable!

The other pirates bowed before him, as well, face stricken with horror; eyes bulging in dread—and realization.

"We didn't know it was you!" one protested.

"That's a poor excuse," he dismissed, disgusted, knowing that they would be laughing and celebrating over his corpse if they had impossibly managed to kill him. "Now trade me your coins for my coins."

One swallowed, hesitation seeped into his flesh, so memorably different from the scornful rage earlier. "We don't have much- "

"I'll take what you have. I'll give you all of these." Aang reached into his new cloak—courtesy of the tall pirate—and pulled his bag of Earth Kingdom coins out of the pocket; he jingled the bag for emphasis and echoed the sound in their ears with airbending. "I bet you would make a great profit, and aren't you all about profits?"

Their greed worked as expected, and Aang got several Fire Nation coins, though the coins would run out quickly—likely after two or three meals.

"Are you really The Avatar?" one of the pirates gasped, daring to stare up at him from his supplicant position.

Aang breathed a small puff of flames while pulling a line of water from the ocean, finding no satisfaction in the way the pirates' breathing shuddered in their chests and their hearts nearly erupted with the impossible pace they beat. "Unfortunately."

He glanced at the pirates, who all flinched. "How long would you say it is from here to the Fire Nation?"

One smiled hesitantly, though his eyes were scared. "We can take you there, sir- "

"I don't trust you," Aang dismissed. "And I'm not going to. How long?"

"Three days," another one revealed, averting his gaze.

It was as he feared. "And you've heard nothing about where the Fire Lord is? Is he at the Caldera?"

One shook his head. "No, Avatar. We don't know. We don't pay attention to the Fire Lord. If we did, we would draw attention to ourselves, and he would arrest us."

Aang nodded before he jumped off the boat and into the water. The pirates scrambled to the side, peering over the side, and he stared up at them as he spun around onto a water tornado. Their awed, terrified faces did nothing for his foul mood, which grew darker as he knew he had to kill them.

"One last thing," he called out as he spun higher, arching over them until he touched the clouds, connected to the water swirling out of the ocean, faster and faster in a whirlwind. He let the sparks crackle at his fingertips, and their faces drained of blood as they cried out in fear as he unleashed a lightning strike at their boat, which blew the pirates apart in different directions while bursting the boat into many pieces, swallowed by the ocean's waves.

All that remained was debris floating in the ocean—and several limbs and heads that sunk quickly, specifically the limbs.

He knew Azula would be proud.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The coins from the pirates went by too quickly—only giving him one meal. Apparently, things were more expensive in the Fire Nation.

Probably due to Sozin's secret war effort.

However, he felt exhausted and starving, but he continued, not stopping as he traveled from island to island on a large piece of the pirates' driftwood with waterbending, careful to bring no attention to himself when he reached each island and traveled through villages stationed near the volcanoes, though he realized that his pirate outfit was less than conspicuous, unfortunately. However, it was better than Earth Kingdom clothes—barely. But he needed a new pair of clothes, and he had no coins, and he didn't see any clothes hanging up on clotheslines or anything, especially for his size.

By the time he reached Shu Jing Village where Piandao had lived in that damned, evil time, Aang questioned his sanity in staying awake so long. He knew he could handle it as he was The Avatar, which meant he was different from everyone else, but he felt the effects; they slowed his journey slightly, but it was better than resting, which would stop his journey completely, and he couldn't afford to stop.

He had no idea what day it was nor how many more days until Sozin attacked the temples. His best guess, which he felt as confident as he could, was that there were five weeks until the Attack, possibly six weeks. But Aang wanted to get to Sozin as quick as possible, kill him, and deal with the fallout of slaying the Fire Lord, which meant handling Sozin's loyalists who would still try to attack the temples, even with Sozin dead.

When he could, he sparked conversation with those he encountered, but he quickly found that it exhausted him much more in his extensive, profound efforts to swallow his hatred. So many hated Air and were vocal about it, spewing Sozin's lies like they were the truth. Aang had already gotten in several more fights because of it, using firebending this time, and he didn't want any more fights—and any more deaths.

He wanted Sozin and no one else. After he dealt with Sozin he could fight anyone else about Air—and he would!

"Air's a nuisance," one outspoken woman declared, shaking her fist for emphasis. "They've made us their slaves for generations! My known lineage hasn't even been around as long as we've been their slaves! For generations, it was not our Fire Lords who ruled us—it was the Arrowheads who ruled us! But good Fire Lord Sozin changed it! He freed us! He broke our chains!"

Aang stared at her, wondering if he had finally met someone as insane as Azula clearly had been at the end of the Great War and after, but, chillingly, this woman's eyes were clear and intelligent—and bitter. "If anyone's a slave, it's you!" he protested vehemently. "You're not free because you shackle yourself to this pettiness that's consumed you about Air! You believe all the lies!"

The woman glared at him, sneering. "You're one of those fools, aren't you? It's no wonder—the only thing Fire about you is your hair, but it's not Fire's hair, is it? You have some of Air in you- "

"I have all of Air in me!" Aang snapped. "Be thankful I don't take all your air out of you!"

"Taking my life like your kind takes all our prosperity," the woman spat. "At least good Fire Lord Sozin started doing away with the slavery. I can't wait to see what becomes of your race without our prosperity enabling your lifestyles in those damned temples so far away you can't even see the world below!"

Aang loomed over the woman, feeling the winds pick up around him, and the woman was aware based on the tightening of her body. "I can't wait to see what you do when you learn the truth. I bet you're going to cut out your tongue for giving life to all the lies constantly! You're pathetic!"

"You would know being born of those thieves in the sky, too dragonshit to come down and be honorable!"

His fists clenched. "You wouldn't know honor if you knew everything in the world!"

"Like your race claims to? The day Air decides to be kind and humane is the day the world ends!"

Aang smacked her back with an airbending lash, knowing he was causing a scene, especially as some older soldiers jogged to him. "If I thought Fire would be put out forever, I'd end the world right now!"

Three of the soldiers stood in a firebending stance while the other soldier went to the woman, helping her to her feet. "Sir, what is- "

Aang smashed them back with a howl of the wind. "You're too stupid to see clearly!" he cried out. "All of you! Don't you see where Sozin is leading you? Don't you see what he wants? If this is your level of understanding, it's you who deserves to be slaughtered, not my race!" He felt a hopeless hysteria seize hold of him, and he laughed in a pained pant. "How could you let this happen? Tell me—please. How could you let yourselves be swayed to this stupidity and evil? How can you believe his lies? He's never uttered truth in his life! He wouldn't know truth if it was his wife!"

The soldiers sprang at him, but Aang spun around and crouched simultaneously; a massive gust knocked them from their feet, and he attacked, again and again, the wind a violent extension of his energetic limbs. The soldiers tried to fight back, but they were overwhelmed, and Aang knocked them out.

He glared back at the woman and the crowd that slowly approached, several with weapons in their hands. "You can't see what's right in front of you," he observed, disgusted and infuriated in equal measure. "I doubt you ever will. People like you don't change—you are idiots from your births to your deaths! If Sozin told you to die, you would slit your own throats! You believe everything he says!"

The woman rose to her feet with help from some of the crowd, all of whom glared passionately back at him. "We have always known of Air's crimes, but good Fire Lord Sozin has rid us of their slavery of us! He gives us a voice; he gives us freedom!"

Aang snapped at the thought that Sozin was a bringer of freedom while his race wasn't. He punched his fists forward, arms extending in violent rhythm, back and forth, again and again, over and over, so fast his arms and fists became blurs to his own eyes. The crowd was smashed back, many landing awkwardly and breaking limbs, and screams of frustrated pain echoed in the howling air.

It was nothing compared to the frustrated pain, born of his heart, swelling within him, gnawing at his bones and reaching his mind.

He sneered at their fallen forms in outrage, body trembling with the force of his disdain and disbelief before he took off, continuing his journey; he ran. He felt more vigorous than he had in many days, and his intensity and conviction to find and kill Sozin pulsed in his mind like a passionate heartbeat.

Everywhere he went, it was the same—a fierce animosity toward Air for imagined slights and crimes, often specified as a form of 'slavery.' Nothing made sense! It was maddening! No matter what island he encountered, no matter what people, no matter if it was west, east, north, or south, Children of Fire hated Air. He had always known that for Air's murder to be possible, many Children of Fire had to despise Air, but the sheer number terrified him—and enraged him. It distressed him how many people hated his race. Sure, he didn't know if those people were performing for their peers, to maintain the health and cohesion of the group, of which they were part, but if they were performances, they seemed too real.

He always knew, deep down, that his right time wasn't perfect, but he thought it was better than the damned, evil time. At least in the damned, evil time, no one hated Air except for Ozai! Everyone then sympathized with and for Air, though no one understood Air! Everyone then felt regret and remorse for Air's murder! Everyone then wondered about Air's devastation and how it could befall anyone else! Everyone felt haunted, even if they didn't realize it, by Air's loss!

But so many people in his right time clearly held Air in such disdain it wasn't surprising that it culminated in Air's destruction.

How was Sozin doing it? How was he so intelligent to manufacture a blanket of odious deceptions that covered the entire world? How was he able to convince and persuade with such conviction that he enveloped masses of his race—and other races, like those of Earth on the eastern coast!—into his delusions? How was he able to be on top of things to such a degree that everything was going according to his devious plans? How were people so stupid to believe the lies about his race?

When he reached Kuzon's island, Aang felt some of his agonizing, maddening doubts and confusion—how was Sozin doing it all?—dissipate, and something realigned. He remembered why he returned to his right time—why it was, specifically, in fact, his right time. His friends—his true friends he grew up with rather than the imposters he was given in the damned, evil time!—were alive in his right time! His family was alive! His race was alive!

Everything he ever needed was alive! He heard Air's song across the world, humming in his ears and soothing his mind at all moments! He felt a balanced world on the surface, though the depths were certainly imbalanced, but he would fix it! And he would have the help of his friends—he real friends!—in fixing the world!

Aang hiked the hill to Kuzon's house, careful not to be seen, stretching his senses. The night breeze was crisp and refreshing, a reprieve from the glaring heat radiated by Agni. His hair rustled in the wind, falling over parts of his makeshift headband in small clumps. He kept himself low to the ground, remembering Kuzon's father's dragon companion—whose name, unfortunately, he couldn't remember. But he would remember it once he spoke to Kuzon again and became the Aang he should be!

He passed the dragon's shelter, gliding on the wind to prohibit sound—and, thus, an awakening—and entered the house silently through one of the second story windows. It was a spare room, and Aang observed the tasteful Fire décor for several moments but shook his head with a rough jerk when it reminded him of Azula.

She didn't matter!

The hallway was quiet as he navigated to Kuzon's room, remembering which floorboards creaked and which didn't; he jumped from space to space, footsteps light and almost nonexistent. He reached Kuzon's door, which swung on its hinges upon his touch; it swung slowly, revealing by its edges, which expanded with each passing moment as the door swung, a familiar mass curled on a cot, belonging to a face he knew!

Aang inhaled sharply and felt his heart race; he placed his hand against the door to brace himself as he struggled for his composure.

It was Kuzon! It was Kuzon's sleeping face held in his gaze!

He swallowed and crept closer to Kuzon before he crouched on the cot's edge. "It's been so long since I've seen you," Aang whispered, peering down at Kuzon's sleeping face. "With Bumi, I saw what he became—I saw him with my own eyes. But I never saw you. I know what became of you, but I didn't see it; I didn't see you." He exhaled roughly and gripped the cot's edges for support. "I didn't remember your face like I thought I did, and I'm trying to remember your voice, I'm trying to hear your laugh, I'm trying to see your eyes, but I can't. I'm sorry; I'm so sorry. But there's no reason to feel sad about that anymore. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

Kuzon snored softly, unaware of his presence, lost to wonderful dreams.

"You can be my firebending teacher this time," he promised. "You're going to be free now—we both are. I can't imagine what it was like for you. At least with Bumi, he was surrounded by people who felt the same way as he did—everyone on the continent hated Fire. But you were different, weren't you? You were home, but you were on enemy soil with enemies everywhere you looked, and these enemies would view you as a traitor rather than only an enemy, which we know is worse."

It was one of Air's teachings; he felt certain that the other races had a similar teaching.

"You probably never felt comfortable in your own skin after it happened," Aang continued, nodding his head as things made more sense, especially after he had encountered Fire's fierce hatred for Air. "I know the feeling—you know I do. I know you don't know, but I'm The Avatar, and I've never felt comfortable in my skin since that damned day—it's the day I came back to so I could change everything, so I could fix this evil. You don't have to worry, Kuzon—nothing bad is going to happen. Air's not going to be murdered, and I'm not going to disappear. You never believed the nonsense about Air like all the others, and I love you for it, especially since it seems so intense."

Kuzon's face was free from stress or worry in his slumber, and Aang imagined his young face worn with anxiety and dread—as it must have been after Air's murder and his own disappearance. He never knew how old Kuzon was when he was executed, but he imagined he was middle-aged, at the most.

Aang's throat felt hot, tight, and heavy; it felt difficult to swallow. "Your fate won't be Sozin's to realize," he vowed, voice trembling and breaking. "You're going to be spared the blood of children on your hands, even if they are Sozin's children." He rubbed a brief hand through Kuzon's hair. "I'll come back for you, Kuzon. I'll see you soon."

He took off, continuing his journey, more motivated than ever.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He lost track of which island he was on, but he knew he was a lot closer to the Caldera based on the level of speech echoing in the air. Gone were the thick accents and choppy vernacular, replaced by smooth rhetoric and balanced pronunciation.

He had stopped asking people for their thoughts about Air, too afraid that, since they were closer to Sozin in proximity, their level of depravity in their thoughts about Air would be too much, and it would culminate in him killing everyone, which meant Sozin would become aware of him and possibly escape somehow.

The city was lively, brimming with countless citizens, and Aang realized he had reached the first major city in the Fire Nation, one of the many on the main islands. The flow of people was so dense that he walked shoulder-to-shoulder with many and had to pause in long stretches as another flow of people passed in front of him. Voices were everywhere, talking over each other, trying to be heard and comprehensible, but none succeeded in the endeavor.

Agni's light bore down, producing a powerful heat, intensified by the swell of bodies all around him; he struggled with the instinct to leap into the air and dash away, but he wanted to blend in—he needed to blend in. Being closer to the Caldera meant greater security, and he couldn't afford to draw more attention to himself. He already drew attention with his pirate and cloaked attire, which clearly didn't blend in with the more sophisticated clothing of everyone else.

And there was the fact that he clearly looked different from everyone else, though he knew they all considered him a half-spawn.

For once, he was grateful for his Fire-like hair rather than Air's lighter hair, for he knew that was the only reason why they would consider him a half-spawn. Possibly his height, as well, but he was unsure.

As he entered the city's heart, he felt and heard a giant mass of people congregated in front of an elevated platform made of metal, on which many bodies stood. The screaming seemed to be loudest in the crowd, which roared and thirsted for a ferocious release of energy. It was more intense than any Agni Kai he had ever heard of, which both Azula and Zuko had shared with him.

Bodies bustled past him, some with more violence than others, with urgency, from children to adults, and he watched them go, felt their powerful vibrations with his earthbending as they joined the raving, buzzing crowd. He knew becoming part of the crowd would do him no good, particularly since he was close to Sozin—killing Sozin was all that mattered now!—and it would be a distraction that might turn on him, necessitating a violent upheaval that would result in deaths.

Especially if he became angry.

But he joined the crowd, curious to know what had antagonized them to such a degree. He had never seen such a crowd before, not even in that damned, evil time.

Aang shoved his way through the crowd, shouldering with more strength the closer he got. The jeers and screams were so loud and intense he could barely gather his thoughts in observation to analyze everything happening. He finally came to a good position that provided him an excellent vantage to watch what was happening. Slowly, his eyes fell on the bodies on the elevated platform, and he stiffened immediately when he saw a man he hadn't expected to see—a man, if he had given him thought, he would have expected to see by Sozin's side.

But Sozin was nowhere to be seen. If he was, Aang would kill him, not caring about the pandemonium it would cause.

But the man who had seized his attention and focus was one of Sozin's premier loyalists, highly intelligent, dedicated, passionate, and cunning—Daoron. It was a man Zuko had told him about and shown him a portrait of in one of Fire's history scrolls, at Aang's request.

"We're told that he died several days before Sozin struck the Air Temples, but he was instrumental in planning the invasion," Zuko had shared, voice grave. "He was Sozin's right-hand man who had Sozin's trust and faith. Sozin gave Daoron all the important jobs and missions, trusting no one more to handle it. It's said that it was Daoron's idea for a simultaneous invasion to destroy Air. After Sozin returned from the invasion, when he learned of Daoron's death, he gave him the honors of a noble, though he wasn't one. He raised Daoron's surviving family to the nobility, and they've been there ever since, though not one of the powerful ones; they've always been minor."

Aang had to restrain himself powerfully from killing Daoron immediately, but he knew he would—it would be worth it forever!

To distract himself from his vengeful thoughts, he focused on the others on the elevated platform. Many were Imperial Firebenders while others were regular guards, but it was the nine men dressed in no armor or military markings that held his attention for several seconds. They held themselves with a limited grace, a control of their bodies, that he had never encountered in anyone else but his race—and Ty Lee. He suspected distantly that they were chi-blockers, but he didn't know why they were present. He wasn't sure if they were because chi-blockers shouldn't be possible, not in Fire, because chi-blocking was an Airbender's skillset, not anyone else's.

But Ty Lee had to learn it—and master it—from somewhere.

In the middle of all of them, paraded like a trophy before them all on the elevated platform was a woman in chains-

Azula!

Lightning struck behind his eyes, ravishing him with a paralyzing confusion and disbelief, and he wavered in place for a moment before shaking his head, knowing he had imagined it—he must have! But it was the same woman—but it also wasn't Azula, on second glance, for there were subtle differences. But the resemblance was astonishing. It was not quite Azula's resemblance to Ursa, but it was noteworthy and impressive.

He gaped at the woman, who radiated beauty like Azula did but looked nowhere near as calm as Azula usually did; the woman looked to be seething in fury, visible for everyone to see, but there was a agonizing pain on her face, something compromised in her body.

The mass of people around jeered and shrieked at the woman, unturned.

He realized with dread what he had stumbled upon—an execution. The woman was a prisoner, the reason for her chains, and she would die publicly with countless people watching and screaming for her death. And more noteworthy to him, she was powerful or important enough to warrant a large body of dozens of guards, including suspected chi-blockers, and security to ensure the execution went successfully, which was clearly to be overseen by Sozin's right-hand man.

Who was the woman?

Aang looked around at the crowd, hoping for a clue, but they only sneered and screamed at the woman, possessing a tangible hatred that Aang was unsure they possessed for Air. But he recalled Air's wisdom—traitors were worse than enemies. Based on the woman's appearance, she was a clear Child of Fire, lineage not diluted by the other races—she would be a traitor.

And the crowd believed her to be a traitor and, thus, worse than an enemy.

But what surprised Aang the most was the woman's composure in facing the vicious vitriol spewed at her; there was a deep fury on her face, but the look in her golden eyes, even across the distance, revealed an inward devastation. Part of her seemed defiant but another part of her seemed wilted and withered, curling in on herself. There was an aggrieved disbelief etched into her memorable features, an incomprehension of the situation.

She clearly couldn't believe that things had reached the point in which she was to be executed.

Daoron stepped forward, raising his arms to silence the crowd, who didn't respond until Daoron snapped his wrist forward and a lash of fire extended above everyone's head in a wide arc. However, they only cheered and maintained a steady volume of noise.

"We know why we are here!" Daoron called out, voice strong and imposing, brimming with confidence and assurance. "We know what this traitor did! We know her aims! She seeks the Fire Lord's death!"

Aang swallowed in awe that someone clearly so important in the Fire Nation, enough to warrant such a large security force, including Sozin's actual right-hand man, rebelled against Sozin and 'sought his death.'

The crowd exploded in a fever pitch of hatred at the confirmation of the woman's aims, and it buzzed against his senses, prickling his flesh, almost disorienting him from the rising volume, which echoed everywhere around him.

Fire's clear, undeniable love for and loyalty to Sozin astonished him.

"She betrayed Fire and, thus, by fire she shall die!" Daoron roared, voice somehow heard over the raging crowd.

When the terror flashed across the woman's face, Aang knew she was chi-blocked; he confirmed it by stretching out his senses and felt the invasive pressure probing her chi, which would wear off too late to save her from her death. But it was dreadful chi-blocking techniques, which weren't a surprise because none of those chi-blockers were Airbenders. They were incapable of proper, healthy chi-blocking techniques; they only knew dangerous ones. If the woman wasn't executed by fire, the chi blocks she suffered from, hastily administered and dangerously done, would kill her.

She was going to die, either way.

Daoron gripped the woman's face before shoving her forward, chains rattling as she stood before the crowd's judgment. "What shall be her final words?" he asked. "To what atonement shall she offer Agni for slighting his good, righteous, and honorable Fire Lord?"

The sudden silence was jarring after the constant cacophony of voices.

Aang watched the woman take a deep breath before staring out at the countless faces in the crowd; her eyes locked on him, and he saw the surprise and brief puzzlement on her beautiful face—so like Azula's face!—likely due to the fact that he clearly didn't look like everyone else, born of a different race. However, she looked away, and her back straightened, determination and vigor filling her face, bleeding away the agonizing incomprehension.

"War is not the solution!" the woman cried out, voice strong and passionate. "Yes, there are many problems, but attacking now physically is a doomed endeavor. This will only lead to our defeat! Has the Fire Lord blinded you? Why follow his madness, for it is madness, undeniably? He leads us to our deaths! He will kill so many of our men! Our lovely husbands, sons, fathers, brothers, and uncles—slaughtered! And it will all be to satisfy his fear! He is not a strong man; he is a fearful man! He is great, yes, but he is scared. Why can you not see it? Air does not possess an army! Air is not going to attack us and kill us! This is not the solution we need for the problems between our races! This 'solution' evokes many more problems, which are more severe and tragic than the problems we have been dealing with! I know we want new problems to deal with rather than the problems that have haunted us for centuries, but this is not the way! The Fire Lord has already liberated us from Houka's unsustainable debt! We do not need to act with more aggression! We do not need to provoke a war that will spread across the world, robbing us of so many sons across each race and trapping our daughters in despair! Why support the Fire Lord as he goes farther like this? This will lead to catastrophe!"

"Cut that stupid cunt's tongue out!" someone screamed in the crowd. "That bitch is a traitor! She was born under Agni's shadow, not under his light!"

A woman near the front of the crowd reared back and hurled a piece of food, which connected with violent impact. "Do it for the good Fire Lord, who she slanders!"

"She's but a stupid fucking whore, taking Fire Lord Sozin's enemies' words up her ass before she regurgitates them out of her mouth!" another cried out.

"Kill her!"

"Do it now!"

"Now!"

The various cries became so loud and incomprehensible that Aang felt his own sanity threatened. However, despite the sheer level of hostility directed at her, the woman looked relieved and hopeful as she quivered against her chains.

"I would kill him for no payment!" the chained woman declared, voice piercing through the crowd's undignified chorus. "He is no Son of Agni! He is like Kazuki and Ojas!"

At the expression on her face, Aang realized swiftly the woman's cunning, desperate strategy—it was her only hope!—to keep the crowd distracted and enraged, to buy herself time, but it was doomed as her chi blocks would eventually kill her because they were administered wrong. Thus, the strategy failed as Daoron lit the pyre behind the woman with a grim, satisfied glint on his face. The woman struggled fiercely, hysterically against the two Imperial Firebenders who held her chains, slowly, and with each stroke of their arms, pulling her back to the pyre, where she would be trapped in the flames, killing her slowly. But she was slowly being forced back near the flames, powerless to try to combat them with her own or put them out.

It was a painful execution, particularly for an obvious Firebender—it was a traitor's death.

Aang felt torn, and it threatened to rip him apart. If he saved the woman, particularly one who required Sozin's right-hand man's presence, he would draw attention to himself; he might possibly give Sozin warning that he was coming. However, how could he stand by passively as a woman who resembled Azula was threatened with an agonizing and humiliating death? More so, how could he let a woman so clearly defying Sozin be executed for doing what was right?

His decision was made.

Aang shoved the people around him back with airbending, sweeping them off their feet with violent gusts, producing shocked cries of surprise everywhere, disrupting the crowd's fury, as the people around him crashed into those around them, all of whom toppled into those near them. It was a chain reaction as so many in the crowd fell into each other like a giant blanket fell on top of everyone, forcing them to their knees and backs from the sheer unexpected weight. Everyone on the elevated platform whipped toward him in response, bodies shifting into unified fighting stances, but it was too late. He rotated his fingers in a tight, familiar motion before whipping his wrists forward as they came together in unison, arms extending fully.

The lightning exploded from his fingertips and struck one of the Imperial Firebenders holding the woman's chains, blowing him apart, spraying blood and armor pieces everywhere. The woman jerked to the side, huddling by herself while pandemonium erupted as those on the platform crashed into each other from the shockwave.

The crowd shrieked and bucked around him in the terror to flee—some even attacked him—but he paid no notice; he smacked anyone aside who dared attack. He leaped onto the platform and reacted with violent primacy. He smashed plume after plume of flames at anyone who approached, giving him enough time to get to the woman, who had jumped at the last Imperial Firebender holding her chains and was struggling to choke him with her own chains because she had no firebending to wield in defense—and offense.

She would find success eventually, but they didn't have that kind of time.

Aang jumped in front of her, smashed his flaming fist into the Imperial Firebender's helmet, melting the helmet into the man's skull, piercing it; he went limp, dead. He instantly gripped the woman by the shoulders, unable to help but gasp when their eyes connected—so much like Azula's! "Come on!" he shouted, shaking himself along with her to focus.

Her golden eyes burned. "I must kill Daoron!"

He stretched out his senses to confirm what he already knew. "He's gone!"

Before she could say anything else, Aang interrupted by prodding her body at key points, finding the pressurized chi points that were hindered to restore the proper flow, making sure to reverse the damage done by the incompetent chi-blockers to stop her from dying a slow, possibly-imperceptible-to-herself death

She gasped, and her eyes bulged as she clearly felt her firebending return. "How did you- "

Aang spun around when he sensed multiple bodies approach, and his suspicions about the men he thought were chi-blockers were confirmed when they leaped at him with impressive ease, working as a unified team. Several went after the woman while the rest went after him, but there were also Imperial Firebenders who had recovered from Aang's shockwave and initial attacks.

He responded with ferocity, arms blurring as he defended himself against their combined attacks, making sure to only use firebending. To him, the Imperial Firebenders were the more immediate threat, and he dealt with them first while avoiding and smacking aside the chi-blockers, who were dedicated to their task. It was the first serious fight he had been in since Ozai killed Azula, and he felt no reason or impulse to show mercy or take it easy on them.

Especially as they dared desecrate his right time!

Aang spun around, rolling onto his back, and flames sprung from his hands and feet, whipping around him in a blaze, which he intensified as he spun on his back faster and faster, propelling himself with airbending as he was invisible behind the flames. He became a blur of red, inflamed by the fire, as the fire morphed into a massive tornado that he fueled and fueled, pouring essence, power, and heat into it, until it became difficult even for him to control. At the last moment, he jumped to his feet in the middle of the fire-tornado before he surged his fists into the ground. The tornado erupted in devastating waves in all directions, incinerating everyone touched.

Silence.

He looked around at the carnage, for the city's heart was unrecognizable; even the elevated platform on which he stood, made of metal to withstand a Firebender's flames, was warped and made dripping molten, pooling, in several parts, threatening to fall apart. He heard and felt stumbling footsteps rush at him from behind, but before he turned around, he felt the impact of nimble fingers jab one of his chi points.

But there was no loss of energy or direction; the flow remained supreme.

Aang turned around as the badly burned chi-blocker blinked, looking at his hand briefly before jabbing Aang again, this time in a flourish interconnected with a dozen more jabs, all swift but choppy. But nothing happened again as chi blocks worked only against a normal chi flow. His chi flow wasn't normal; it was different and deeper. Chi blocks were designed to place a temporary hindrance of energy in a bender's chi pathways, operating like a dam cutting off a river—a normal bender's chi—before the dam dissipated. However, there was no dam capable of cutting off the ocean, which his chi pathways resembled.

And there was the fact that the chi-blocker was doing it wrong, regardless, but even if he did it the right way, it would never impact him.

The man's eyes widened in shocked fear. "What are you?"

"Angry," he revealed honestly.

He was angry for many reasons.

The man's face flushed with denial as he jabbed him again, and Aang let him, but nothing happened—again. "You can't be- "

A wave of fire consumed the man, and Aang looked at the woman he freed, who was clearly a skilled Firebender—like Azula. She crept gingerly past some of the rubble, holding her arm, though her golden eyes shone with brilliance and intelligence as she assessed him. "I owe you my life," she whispered.

Aang looked away quickly, finding her allure powerful and evocative of Azula—she looked so much like her! "Think nothing of it. I was happy to help." He felt her eyes on him and gestured around him, still not looking at her. "Do you have somewhere to go and lay low? Daoron got away; he's not going to like this."

"I know a place we can both stay," she said quickly, voice urgent. "Please. Let me give you a place to rest; let me give you a meal; let me thank you. You look horrible."

Aang looked down at himself and sighed, knowing she was correct but wishing she wasn't; his unhealthy-looking appearance wouldn't help him blend in. The offer of a meal was a powerful one that could and would only help him in his quest to reach the Caldera and kill Sozin.

That was the only reason he accepted. It had nothing to do with the fact the woman looked like Azula, and he felt isolated in the Fire Nation—or that's why he tried to convince himself.

There were no words spoken as she guided him to wherever she had a 'place,' exiting the city and avoiding detection by blending in with the many customers along the market outside the city. Aang quickly gave her his cloak to wrap herself in, thankful that his stolen pirate attire covered his tattoo of mastery by itself, to prevent anyone from recognizing her garbs for what they were—a prisoner's garbs. She smiled up at him gratefully, and he made himself look away, trying to stay focused.

Whispers of what happened in the city reached their ears as they passed through the market with some going so far as to say that Agni himself appeared in a strike of lightning to spare the woman, redeeming her of any crimes possibly committed. Others said that the woman was part of a conspiracy that threatened to annihilate Sozin and replace him with a new ruling elite who weren't so elite. Others said that it was planned by Daoron to root out enablers of deceit and treachery. Others said that the woman's rescuer was as twisted and sick as she was; others said it was probably her husband or brother rescuing her. But it was clear to him that his lightning generation had terrified many and left some in a stupefied awe. They said the woman's rescuer must be Sozin's bastard son, for only a man of Sozin's seed was capable of such strength. None of them had ever seen lightning generation before—everyone thought it a myth.

But it was true, and they had seen it—and they believed what they saw.

He felt the woman glancing up at him often as they passed and heard the conversations, but Aang said nothing. However, when a large group of guards—over a dozen, likely closer to twenty, possibly thirty—parted through the crowd, the woman jumped into action as she quickly stole two pairs of hats off separate stalls and placed one on her head and reached up to place the other on his head; he lowered his head to meet her reach halfway.

She took his hand in her own after adjusting the hat slightly—why, he had no idea. "Pretend we're married," she said under her breath, body tense.

Aang didn't respond but squeezed her hand, which relaxed her—he was going along with her plan.

As the guards approached, yanking some women closer to look at their faces, the woman leaned into him and angled her face against his chest but stared straight ahead. Aang understood her strategy—it would look suspicious if both of them went out of their way not to be seen by the guards, looking away or hiding behind others; it would be better if they looked like everyone else, unafraid to be seen, making it easier to blend in.

Aang wrapped an arm around her, pulling her tighter against him, making it seem like they were truly married and, thus, one—as Air taught. He tried desperately not to think of how her body felt against him, pressing against him in soft, angled, delightful ways; instead, he tried to think of the danger that could befall them, but it was noticeably not working because he didn't consider there to be any actual danger, least of all for himself. He would kill anyone who attacked effortlessly; there was no one in the world who could make him feel in danger.

However, the plan didn't work as the guards noticed him and approached. If he looked like everyone else, the plan likely would have worked, but because he clearly was of Air—unlike anyone else in the Fire Nation—they took notice of him immediately.

The guards definitely numbered closer to thirty than twenty.

"You're not from around here," one of the leading guards accused, glaring at him with suspicion as the others circled around them, cutting them off from the rest of the crowd.

Aang felt the woman's heart race, but he remained calm, shrugging lightly. "Half-spawn," he replied simply.

Another guard walked around him, pressuring him. "Nothing about you looks Fire—except the hair, maybe. But the texture looks different."

He understood the significance, for those of Fire often possessed thin, silky hair, but Aang's hair was thick and bushy—exactly like those of his race. Instead, he smiled and raised his hand, only showing his palm to prevent them from seeing his tattoo of mastery; he summoned a flame between his fingers and expanded it slightly. "I'm a Firebender," he said simply. "How could I be a Firebender if I don't have Fire's blood?"

Aang knew they were capable of pointing out The Avatar, but he knew they never would because it didn't make sense; The Avatar was supposed to only twelve years of age since Roku died twelve years ago.

The guards glanced at each other, some surprised and others relieved. "So, you're a half-spawn," one repeated, tasting the words as he nodded. "What was your father?"

He didn't bother lying. "Of Air."

Distaste flashed across their faces, and Aang wanted to kill them—he wanted to fire lightning again or rip out the air from their lungs! However, the woman's touch against him prevented him from doing anything; he had no idea if she saw his thoughts conveyed by his face, but he was grateful for it.

"If you're of Air and look it more than Fire, how'd you get yourself one of our women as a wife?" another asked, astonished; he seemed more intrigued than anything.

"When he did not recite Air's lies to me but their crimes instead, I knew I could trust him," the woman answered for him, face clear; she stared up at him with fondness, and Aang shuddered as she looked so much like Azula, and he didn't realize how desperately he missed Azula until the woman stared up at him like she did. He wished it was Azula with him, staring up at him like that. "And I grew to love him. We married quickly. He may not look Fire, but I assure you, he has all our passion and more."

"Are you traveling?" one of the guards asked.

Aang nodded. "That obvious?"

"Where to?"

"Ember Island," he responded, not knowing what else to say. "My wife has family there; we haven't seen them in a while."

The woman nodded and straightened slightly. "Not since the wedding," she added, voice calm and somewhat amused. "My aunt has been most vocal about it in her letters. She even said that Agni was more likely to disappear than she see us again. But we will prove her wrong."

"It's a surprise," Aang said. "We didn't tell anyone we were coming."

The guards relaxed, and he knew their suspicions were alleviated. "Well, enjoy your trip," one of the guards said with a kind expression as he inclined his head. "But be careful as you do. There are two dangerous criminals on the loose. We don't know what they're capable of."

Aang nodded. "Of course. We'll alert the authorities if we see anyone suspicious."

He watched the guards continue their search through the crowd, leaving them in peace to be absorbed by the people around them.

The woman sagged against him in relief. "Thank you," she breathed, staring up at him in awed gratefulness.

"Where did you learn that?" he asked, curious. "Pretending to be married, I mean."

The woman's face shadowed with tragedy and fury. "By watching the real thing."

"Your parents?"

"My sister and her husband before they were killed."

She kept hold of his hand as she guided him through the rest of the city, clearly knowing where she was going as she weaved past stalls and other clusters of people until they reached the outskirts of the city.

"What do you like to eat?" she asked as they continued in the direction of the island's volcano.

"Vegetables."

The woman glanced up at him. "You do little to hide your connection to Air."

He looked back at her and felt his face darken. "What do you think of Air?"

"They were great, but they have had struggles," she replied. "I wish to meet an Air Nomad, but I know only the legends and rumors. I trust neither."

Aang didn't resent her honesty. "They're the best."

She looked surprised. "You met them?"

"Yes."

"And they accepted you?"

He didn't know why she seemed surprised. "Yes."

"But I heard- " She waved a hand, realizing clearly it didn't matter. "No matter. We are almost there. Perhaps you can tell me about them. You must understand them better than the legends and rumors."

Aang felt grateful that she knew the obvious, unlike everyone else in his right time. "I do."

The woman brought him to the outskirts of the island's volcano, and he wondered briefly if it had been a trick—a means to get him to let down his guard to attack him when he least expected it and there were no witnesses nor anyone to call to help to. Perhaps the entire execution was one of Sozin's tricks to root out conspirators, and anyone who dared intervene was put on a list to watch or take to the volcano to die violently—like Roku died!

However, the woman reached a strange rock and paused. Aang realized immediately that it was not a regular rock, for it possessed a pressure mechanism inside that worked exactly like the secret passages in the palace and Roku's temple did. As expected, when the woman placed her palm flat against the side and puffed out a small flame into an indistinguishable-to-the-eye gash in the rock, part of the volcano's side moved away. Aang felt annoyed that he had not sensed the obvious, but he knew it was due to his exhaustion; he had been up too long, and all the energy he had summoned earlier was gone.

"This is one of my hideouts," the woman explained to him as she ushered him inside; it was larger than it looked, which he already knew with his earthbending, particularly with many lower levels built into the ground, along with secret tunnels, but it was another thing to see it with his own eyes. For some reason, the place felt achingly familiar to him, but he couldn't place it; he suspected that he had been in the place in that damned, evil time but couldn't remember particularly when.

He had many other things to remember, after all.

"You have friends on the continent," Aang observed. "How many Earthbenders did it take to do this?"

The woman smiled slightly. "One, but he did not hail from the continent; he was born here."

Aang's brows rose. "A half-spawn?"

"No, he was full-blooded."

His surprise increased. "A Child of Earth was born on Fire's islands?"

Something secretive and coy flashed across her face. "Not quite. You have my thanks but not my trust. Earn my trust, and I shall tell you the Earthbender's name."

He felt his interest dissipate. "You said you would give me a meal."

The woman smirked, and he looked away, fearing the reminder of Azula. "Among other things," she drawled. "If you wish to help me pick the vegetables since it is your meal, follow me."

Aang followed her deeper into the volcano, and he was reminded eerily of Roku's temple when Shyu had guided he, Katara, and Sokka through the secret passages. He followed the woman as she took lefts and rights, following a path she clearly knew by heart, and Aang kept his senses open, trying to sense where she was taking him. However, after several moments, he decided to close himself off; he wanted to be surprised and feel a sense of normalcy, especially after being awake for so long.

He was glad he closed himself off—he really was surprised.

He stared at the luscious garden inside the volcano, where the woman had taken him. "How is this possible?" he asked, amazed as he looked at her. "Nothing like this should grow in here."

A mourning crossed her face, though there was a pride and joy. "Someone I knew planted the seeds and vowed they would grow and produce food. I did not believe him. But when he died, I returned here and found this, brimming with so much life and character. It was his final gift to me; it was like part of him, even a mere seed, was still here with me. This is a sacred place—because he was here many times with me. It is like he is here with me now."

He understood her grief, having felt similarly about Gyatso. "The Earthbender?"

She nodded, face distant before it cleared as she gestured toward the plants. "Pick which ones you want."

Aang quickly gathered several vegetables and returned with her to what was clearly the kitchen; she picked the vegetables from his hands and went to work, reminding him oddly of Katara.

"I was unsure I would ever do this again," she said after several moments, voice rising to be heard as she chopped the vegetables into a pot, in which she poured water from a container. "Cook, I mean—nonetheless eat."

Reminded of the fate he saved her from, he nodded and sat down in one of the chairs; he felt weary, and it seemed to hit him all at once. He felt like he could relax and rest truly for the first time since he arrived in his right time, and his burning need to find Sozin, kill him, and save his race felt less important than his sudden yearning for rest, and most shocking of all, he trusted the woman to let him rest. Perhaps he would rest for the night rather than continue his journey to the Caldera; he could replenish his body with nourishment and cessation. After all, he had made excellent time thus far in his quest; there was plenty of time remaining for him to kill Sozin and save his race. A night of rest wouldn't hurt him; it would only help him.

"You'll have a lot of time to do those things," he pointed out in reply.

She glanced back at him with a look of significance in her golden eyes that he knew he didn't comprehend fully; there was an awed somberness on her face before she turned back to the pot. "A lot of time," she echoed, sliding some of the chopped vegetables into the pot before beginning her rhythm with another vegetable. "I once thought there would always be more time. 'This could never happen for years, no matter what Sozin does,' I would say to my sister and tell her that we would grow old together, as sisters should. I thought I would have more time with her; I thought I would have more time with everyone I have ever loved, but I thought wrongly—so wrongly."

Aang felt grim but sympathetic as he recalled his own feelings for how he thought he would have his entire life with his race rather than twelve paltry years—before he was changing it, as he should! "I understand."

"I know you do," she replied, surprising him. "I see it in your eyes. You carry something I see every time I see my reflection. Your body is youthful, but your spirit is ancient, conveyed by your eyes, and I have realized painfully that spirit supersedes body, though both are of primal significance."

He almost laughed at how right she was. "Things haven't gone like I thought they would," he said instead. "I made a decision to come here, and it's different than what I thought; it's different from what I knew." He thought about all the various hatred for Air he had encountered, even on the continent, except for Earth's Major Cities; he thought of his significant planning to deal with Fire's outrage and fury when he killed Sozin; he thought of himself fighting against Time itself do what was right, to make What Was What Is; he thought of how alone he was because he was the only one in existence who had ever attempted such a thing—and would succeed!—with no one capable of helping him; he thought of how he had to accomplish everything on his own, isolating him, stranding him, strengthening him. "I just realized that things are going to be harder than I thought."

The woman nodded, hair swaying down her back slightly at the movement. "Do you regret it?"

Aang did laugh finally, though he heard it sputter. "Not at all. It's the best thing I've ever done."

"I think so," she agreed, and he stared at her back, confused—she couldn't know what he was talking about! "Your decision led to you saving my life—thank you."

"It wasn't a problem," he assured. "I was happy to do it."

She stirred the vegetables in the pot with a ladle as she glanced back at him, face radiant with emotion. "You do not understand. I thought I was dead—I thought I would burn alive, powerless as my own element swallowed me, destroying my body; I thought Agni would spit on me and destroy my spirit for shaming his chosen Fire Lord so publicly; I thought I would know the embrace of nothingness forever, never to see my family again. But you prevented it."

Aang felt uncomfortable but tried to smile. "You would have escaped on your own- "

"I would have tried, but I would have failed," she retorted, speaking with a calm knowing that belied the tremor in her hand as she swirled the ladle. "You saved my life. I owe you more than I can pay."

"You owe me nothing but this meal," he replied quickly, knowing of Fire's insistence on honor and debts from Azula's lessons on Ember Island, and Zuko had always mentioned several things. "No one holds your honor but you, and I don't think you're dishonorable for saying the truth about Sozin; I think you're honorable for it. I admire your strength."

The woman was silent as she poured stew into a bowl, which she slowly handed over to him as she sat across from him, watching him as he ate; she looked overwhelmed and lost in thought.

"It's good," he commended after long moments, already finished with more than half of his portion; he might eat the entire pot. "Are you going to eat something?"

She shook her head, mute, long hair rustling in the air, surpassed only by the sound of him slurping down the rest of his portion. He got up for another and increased the size of the portion; he was hungrier than he thought—much hungrier.

"How did you restore my chi?" she asked finally after he finished a fourth serving, voice tentative.

"I didn't restore your chi," he corrected, shaking his head as he swallowed. "I restored its flow."

"What is the difference?"

"Your chi can never be obstructed by a chi-block; only its flow—the literal pathways—can be obstructed temporarily. I obstructed the obstruction."

"How did you do that?"

He sighed. "You have to know where to place a dam—and where to break it. Otherwise, it's dangerous. Airbenders discovered chi-blocking to pursue enlightenment; it's not supposed to be a dangerous process since it would naturally wear off in a few hours, but those idiots, because they're not masters, made it dangerous because they make it permanent, which causes death because that's not how the chi pathways are supposed to work. You would have died, probably in a month or so, if I didn't fix it."

"Really?" she whispered, sounding distant.

"You can't just place it anywhere; you have to be precise. None of those idiots knew what they were doing. I can't believe they even know how to do it. I wonder who taught them."

Chi-blocking was an Airbending skillset, but Ty Lee had to have learned it from somewhere. Apparently, chi-blocking had surfaced sometime in Roku's time, passing from Air to Fire, making learning it—and mastering it—possible.

It was the only explanation.

She caught his gaze, eyes roaming his face in wonder. "How were you not affected by the chi-blocks?"

Aang hesitated for a moment. "He did it wrong," he dismissed honestly. "He doesn't understand chi-blocking, only knows what it can do—that's how they all were. He hit the wrong points—put the dams in the wrong places—and the pressure was off, too. It didn't help that he was badly burned from my attack, and his coordination was off."

The woman accepted it, nodding for several moments; she looked like she wanted to ask something else, but no words came. Instead, she smiled, though it resembled more a grimace. "Where are you going to go?"

"Home."

"Where is your home?"

He was so close to saying the Southern Temple but quelled the instinct, knowing he needed to preserve his anonymity. There would be too many questions if he said his home was one of the Air Temples. "Ember Island," he answered.

The woman sighed in longing. "I have never been. I heard it is beautiful there."

"It is," Aang agreed.

"When were you last there?"

"Too long ago."

She hesitated before straightening; her golden eyes burned. "Can I join you?"

He leaned back, surprised. "Why?"

"It is not safe for me here anymore."

"That's not the real reason," he accused, eyes narrowing.

The woman shrugged one of her shoulders with a half-hearted smirk. "I think we could make a good team."

"My aims are beyond you," Aang dismissed. "I admire that you tell the truth about Sozin, but I'm going to do more than that."

Her head tilted. "My aim is to do more than tell the truth, as well—I want him dead."

Silence.

Aang stared at her, doubtful. "Really?"

"I know some people who are unhappy with Fire's direction," she said, golden eyes riveted on him with a frantic urgency. "They are as indignant as we are. It is a small rebellion against Sozin, who can only lead us to our damnation with his pursuit—obvious to anyone with intelligence. But most are fooled and go along with everything Sozin feeds them, never questioning and reasoning. Sozin never let me down; Sozin will do as Sozin does. It was my fellow Children of Fire who let me down, who have gone along with everything that Sozin has said and done. I joined this rebellion several years ago with my sister and her husband, and my sister and I were the most powerful Firebenders. But you? If you joined, our power would grow. We have needed a face for ourselves to give us legitimacy. We cannot only try to operate in the dark."

His brows rose. "This face is an Air face, not a Fire face."

The woman hesitated but nodded. "Fire worships Power more than a face. I felt your power; it is immense."

"You felt something faint—a fraction," he pointed out, unable to help himself; he wanted to see her reaction.

Her golden eyes lit up. "Then all the more reason. Will you join us?"

Silence.

Aang watched her, realizing she was serious utterly, and was about to reject her offer before he realized that he might have help after all for the inevitable fallout of him killing Sozin and stopping the Great War before it began. Whatever this group was, it was central in the Fire Nation, which would erupt in a frenzied, rabid civil war until a new, worthy Fire Lord was found.

While he considered seriously sitting on the Dragon's Throne himself before he found any heir of Kai's line who he felt satisfied by, who had the requisite blood and deeds, as Fire—and all legitimate power structures—demanded, he didn't want to sit on the Dragon's Throne; he didn't want to sit on a throne on which Sozin sat for sixty years.

This group could possibly replace Fire's elite—the nobility who supported Sozin—and stabilize the chaos ripping Fire apart after he killed Sozin.

"I need to think about it," he responded, spacing his words. "First, I'd need to know who's part of the group. Anyone of significance?"

The woman nodded. "One of the leading Fire Sages. All the other Fire Sages have betrayed The Avatar for Sozin, but he has not; he works within the boundaries imposed on him, but he is on our side. He is my friend, and he would be a friend to you, for I would vouch for you."

Aang knew the Fire Sage would be his friend regardless once he revealed himself as The Avatar. "Anyone else?"

"Princess Lo's husband; he's a strong Firebender."

He snorted. "Of course. He's on our side until he's not—he wants the Dragon's Throne for himself, nothing more, which he would obtain being married to one of Sozin's non-bending twin daughters. I'd rather kill him than trust him."

"A good instinct," she commended. "I do not trust him, either, but he is a powerful ally to have right now. We do not have many."

"It will all work out," he assured. "Sozin will be stopped."

"My sister and her husband thought the same."

Aang held her gaze as he stood to his feet. "They were right. But enough about Sozin—I hate Sozin. Where do I sleep?"

The woman guided him through several passages to a room carved into the volcano; it was a pleasurable warmth, and, again, he felt a sense of familiarity but brushed it off. "Thank you," he said, observing the bed, chairs, and table.

Her hand brushed his arm gently. "Do you need anything?"

"No," he answered, not missing the forlorn expression on her face.

He didn't know what it meant.

"Goodnight, then," she whispered. "I will be in the room across from this one if you change your mind."

"Goodnight," he replied, watching as she left his room.

The instinct to hold on and combat sleep's need was powerful, particularly since he had already fought it so often, but he was alone and in a safe place, and he trusted the woman not to harm him. There was something she was hiding from him clearly—what was that about asking if he needed anything when he already clearly had everything he needed?—but he knew what she was hiding wasn't anything malicious, like an intent to compromise him or kill him and, thus, derail his plans for killing Sozin and saving his race.

He reclined on the bed, trying not to think about the last time he laid on a 'bed' and committed an unjustifiable, unpardonable sin against his race—when he married Azula. He knew he was still married to her—he loved her, after all—but she was of Fire, of Sozin himself. And his grief, horror, and disgust for the fact were only increased by his encounters with everyone who hated Air in the Fire Nation in his right time.

If he had taken Azula to his right time with him, would she join her race and fall under Sozin's sway, believing all the lies? Would she join Sozin in his plans, seeing it as a miracle she could be present during Fire's most monumental, glorious victory? Would she betray him to Sozin, notifying him that he was coming to kill him? Would she attack his race herself? Would she find Gyatso and kill him?

The questions exhausted him, for he doubted the veracity of each, but he didn't know for certain.

Aang surrendered and closed his eyes.

XxXxXxXxXxX

A sound awakened him, piercing through the reprieve of slumber, and he sat up, awareness dissipating the grogginess; he blinked rapidly before squinting as he recognized the woman standing in the doorway of his room. He had no idea how long he had slept—how much time had passed—but he knew it was at least several hours. But it didn't explain the woman's presence, for it wasn't morning or anything.

She stared at him, silent, which provoked his concern and worry.

"Did someone find us?" he asked, stretching his senses but found no one in the area except himself and the woman.

"No," she confirmed, voice soft. "I tried to sleep, but I realized I almost went to sleep forever earlier today. I did not want to sleep." Her hands trailed up her garb with slow movements, and he didn't understand. "At least, not until after I thanked you."

Aang was too stunned to react as she slipped out of her clothes, pooling at her feet, before she stepped into more visible light, naked. His eyes roamed her, pausing on her bare breasts before he held up his hand, obscuring the enticing sight. "I'm married."

The woman looked saddened, but she tilted her head. "Where is your wife?"

"Away."

"Do you love her?"

"Yes," he whispered, voice strained.

"Who is she?"

"No one you know."

"Is she of Fire?"

"Yes."

The woman's face twisted. "Lucky bitch."

"Don't call her that," Aang said slowly, trying not to become angry. "You don't know her."

She hummed. "All I know is that she is not here, which means something; it is significant- "

"She's not here because I didn't tell her what I was doing," he said forcefully—maybe too forcefully.

"You don't trust her?" the woman asked, voice curious and almost hopeful.

"I trust her more than I do myself."

"Then she should be here to reward you for your gallantry."

Aang closed his eyes and turned around, pushing himself off the bed from the other side; he stared at one of the tables. "I didn't do it for a reward—although it's an enticing reward. She couldn't understand my decision; no one will."

The woman stepped toward him and laid a soft hand on his tense shoulder, but it was not the hand he yearned to feel; it was not Azula. "I understand."

He shook his head, shrugging off her hand. "No, you don't- "

"We both defy the will of Sozin," she observed, voice enthralling but insistent. "Your wife is not here, meaning you do not trust her to defy the will of Sozin, but you can trust me; I can be what she is not. I hate Sozin, and I want him dead; I do things that no one else does, and it led to my execution, which you interrupted and saved me from. You saved my life." Her hand gripped his arm, voice urgent and awed. "You wielded lightning," she murmured, voice amazed.

"My wife taught me lightning," he said distantly, remembering those days on Ember Island with Azula.

Those were good days. They weren't the best days because he was now in the best days, but they were good days. He missed her deeply. That was the only reason he was entertaining the woman, right? It was because she reminded him of Azula, clearly, for he recognized quite a few similarities. They looked so much alike. It was what had provoked him to save her life from execution. That was the only reason, absolutely.

He knew he didn't fully trust Azula, especially after she had already started sabotaging Air after he married her, but was it that obvious? How did the woman know? Did she somehow sense that he made his decisions without Azula, even though they were married, which meant they had become one, as Air taught? Did she sense that the last time he saw Azula she was terrified because of the way he looked at her? Did she sense that his thoughts of her were dark and bitter, resentful and hateful because all his suspicions about her became true when she immediately started sabotaging Air after they married even though she didn't know they were married? Did she sense that he left the Mortal Realm to get away from her and didn't tell her what he was doing or where he was going? Did she sense that thoughts of her didn't stop him from going to the Tree and using It's power but provoked him instead, assuring him that what he was doing was necessary? Did she sense that he could barely look at Azula after their marriage and couldn't speak to her as he wanted to?

Aang hated his marriage—but he hated even more that he loved it and didn't regret it for himself, only for Air. It wasn't Azula he hated—it was himself. He hated himself for making an intolerable error in judgment and ruining Air's future, which took precedence over anyone and anything else, including Azula—especially Azula! The actual marriage didn't bother him; it was the conclusion of the marriage because his marriage was historical—it was era-defining and race-reviving. His marriage mattered—actually mattered! In another of his lifetimes, his marriage never mattered, not to him and not to the race he was born of—not to Air, Fire, Earth, or Water. But his marriage to Azula mattered—it mattered to Air. But he knew his race hated his marriage to Azula and would be disgusted by him and his base passions.

Gyatso would be so disappointed in him if he knew.

But he had made amends—he was making all the amends! He was fixing all of his evil choices, going back to its source—when he learned he was The Avatar! He would kill Sozin, stop the Great War, and save his race, which would spare him of the monumental task of reviving Air alone with whomever he chose as his Mother of Air! But he had chosen poorly—exceptionally poorly! He was unworthy of the task at hand! He knew it—he had always known it! And his decision to choose Azula only confirmed what he always knew! She was an heir of Sozin still, and it was impossible to feel peace about it; he didn't know how to feel peaceful about the fact that he was in love with a woman of Sozin's blood, that the Mother of Air would be a woman descended from Sozin.

But none of it mattered anymore because, for the first time in his life, he had made the right choice in using the Tree to go back—it was precious and beautiful! It was miraculous! He was going to fix everything and have everything he ever wanted.

It was all worth it.

The woman's grip only tightened on his arm, sliding down to his larger hands and brushed his fingers gently; he felt her eyes stay resting on his face, but just in case, he twisted his hand to ensure that she didn't see his tattoo of mastery. But he didn't have enough strength to stop her fingers from gliding and brushing over his, massaging kindly. It felt nice, and she reminded him of Azula, who he missed more than he realized. "Out of these fingers, these powerful and strong fingers, I watched lightning erupt. You were capable of death on a massive scale—I saw it in your eyes. You could have killed everyone in the city, but you killed so few. You could have killed all my executioners, but you did not. You spared some of them, letting them run—so you could save me."

"Don't attribute things you misunderstand," he cut in, voice not as strong as he wanted. "I didn't want to bring attention to myself. If I killed all of them, people would look for me."

"Liar," she continued in a soft voice, voice full of awed judgment. "You wielded lightning, signifying your identity as a powerful Firebender—the most powerful, second only to Sozin."

"I'm stronger than Sozin," Aang hissed insistently.

The woman nodded her head, brushing against his arm, though its impact wasn't at all muted by his attire. "I believe you are, but he is something different. Sozin has a dark soul, but you do not. You have a gentle soul but the body of a warrior, and this contradiction gnaws at you; it brings you no peace. You do what you can to find peace, but it only evades you like your kin in the skies."

"I'm darker than you think," he muttered, trying but failing not to think of Ba Sing Se.

She rubbed her body against him and pulled his hand to one of her breasts, pressing ardently against his palm; the mound of flesh was warm and enticing. He had to restrain his powerful instinct to give his hands balance, letting each twin acquaint itself with its designated breast. "Let me give you peace."

Aang pulled his hand away. "My wife couldn't give me peace. Why do you think you would?"

"I am different," the woman stressed. "You are powerful. I see it and feel it. You are descended from Kai—like me on both sides of my lineage, my father's and mother's."

Aang glanced at her but immediately looked away when he realized her breasts were still bare. "Sozin felt threatened by your blood?"

"Yes and no. There was the fear of my blood, but it was ultimately my voice he feared. I speak the truth against him, and he hates me for it."

"You're his cousin?"

"Far removed. I am descended from Henjul on my father and mother's sides."

Aang remembered Azula's lessons about Fire's history. "Fire Lord Henjul ended the Splintering during Avatar Kuruk's reign."

"Yes. See? We are descended from the same lineage. It is clear with your gray eyes."

He frowned. "You don't know what you're talking about."

He heard the triumphant smile in the woman's voice. "Yes, I do. You descend from Jyzhol of Ishaner, son of the Half-spawn Fire Lord, Zyrn, who legend says was an Airbender. That is why you are a half-spawn. Your parents were his descendants and produced you. But unlike Zyrn and his son, you inherited all of Fire's might. I felt it. I thought only Sozin had such power."

"Sozin has nothing," Aang muttered. "Or he will shortly."

A smile crossed her face. "You will challenge him to an Agni Kai?"

"No, I'm not going to challenge Sozin to an Agni Kai—he doesn't deserve the honor of one. I'm going to find him and kill him. It's what I'm going to do before I go home."

"That is very bold," she commended.

"So are you. Cover yourself up," he ordered.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"You make me irritated," he corrected. "It's insulting that you think you can seduce me."

"I am not trying to seduce you," she protested, hurt.

"You're not a good liar."

Unfortunately, Aang was the liar, for he couldn't sense her lying. Another similarity to Azula.

"I am trying to thank you," she said ardently. "I am trying to love you; I am trying to give a warrior his peace. You are evidently in need of it."

"Again, my wife couldn't give me my peace, and you couldn't, either," he snapped. "My wife is much more beautiful than you."

"Now who is insulting?" the woman whispered, sounding hurt, but Aang wasn't sure he trusted it.

His jaw clenched. "Are you clothed?"

"No."

"I said to- "

"Listen to me," she said urgently. "There is a reason beyond my passion for you. You will challenge Sozin somehow and in some way, but should you fail, there must be a contingency."

Aang turned to her, staring hard at her face, ignoring her bare breasts. "Meaning what?"

"Spend a night of love with me before you go to battle Sozin. If you succeed in ending him, it shall be a fond memory for the rest of your days—and mine. If you fail, you will die with the knowledge that your power endures."

His eyes narrowed, wondering if, impossibly, she figured out that he was The Avatar. "Meaning?"

The woman smiled. "Before you go to Sozin, we will love one another as only a man and woman can. You will give my womb your seed, and I shall bear you a mighty Firebender who will end Sozin when he comes of age should you fail. The son will succeed where his father failed."

"What makes you so adamant?" he asked, curious, despite himself. The level of conviction with which she spoke about such a subject was strange. Again, it reminded him of Azula.

A confident gleam entered her golden eyes. "You are a powerful Firebender of renown, but in me endures the memory of The Avatar. Our combined blood will produce a Firebender beyond any of Kai's line."

Aang stiffened, finally realizing why she was able to influence him so much; she looked so much like Azula because she was Ursa's mother and Azula's grandmother—Rina. "You're Roku's daughter," he said dumbly.

"His last daughter," the woman—Rina!—said with a soft but pained smile. "Sozin spits on my father's memory, but I am not strong enough to defeat him, even with my father's blood in me. My mother's weakness endures in me, compromising my father's potency."

A roaring entered his ears, and he gripped the table, pieces of a haunting puzzle falling into place. Ursa had told him several things about her mother, who had been saved from an execution by a man who obtained her loyalty for the rest of her life, even more than Ursa's father, according to Ursa.

A sickening sensation spread through him at the obvious—the man Ursa referred to was him.

"It's also your father's weakness," Aang pointed out, feeling Roku stir inside him as he tried to remain calm. "He couldn't bring himself to kill Sozin."

No wonder the hideout seemed so familiar to him! Roku was clearly the Earthbender Rina had spoken of previously, who constructed the hideout and planted the impossible garden, and Roku was him!

Rina lost her soft allure for a moment as her lips pursed and golden eyes—the exact same shade as Azula's eyes, he realized finally—narrowed. "You threaten my passion for you by speaking ill of my father. He had faults, yes, but we all do."

Out of all the things Aang expected and anticipated after using the Tree, it never occurred to him that he would meet anyone of Azula's lineage outside of Sozin or possibly Azulon. "Like I already told you, I'm not going to lay with you," he said, looking away from her, trying to keep all his thoughts—the realizations—from showing on his face.

"But you saved my life."

"You were planning to escape yourself," Aang dismissed, knowing it was the only possibility. How else did Rina survive to later give birth to Ursa decades from now? But what about the improper chi-blocks? How did she heal herself from those?

"I was, but it had a high chance of not working. You freed me so easily, so effortlessly. I must reward you."

"I didn't free you because of you," Aang said quietly. "I did it because it was the right thing to do—because you so clearly defy Sozin. I did it because you reminded me of my wife. I miss her."

Rina's hands caressed his shoulder. "I can soothe your yearning for her," she whispered, rising on the tips of her toes so her lips could brush the back of his neck. "I will open myself to you and pretend to be her; call me by her name; touch me the way you touch her; enter me as you enter her; spill yourself in me as you do in her."

Aang wondered how he got himself into this conversation. It was insane. But by looking at Rina briefly, he knew she was genuine; she did want to soothe him and bring him peace. "It is very kind of you to offer me anything approaching that," he said slowly. "But you don't know me- "

"Does that not make my offer more loving?" she pointed out, undeterred.

"It makes it short-sighted."

She laughed slightly. "No. This is my decision to make."

"And it's my decision to reject it."

"But why would you reject me?" she asked. "I am beautiful, and I offer to you what all men want."

"You are beautiful," Aang acknowledged. She was almost too beautiful. But she was Azula's grandmother and Roku's daughter. He would not betray his wife, not now—if he didn't want to be married to her. "And it is a very generous and desirable offer. But it's not to me you should offer it."

"Must I prove my authenticity to you?" Rina wondered, voice perplexed but determined. "You saved my life, and I love you for it."

"You don't love me," he dismissed. "You know nothing about me but a conception based on this single day we've known each other."

"But I will love you tonight, and I can love you. How did your wife convince you of her love for you?"

Aang tensed at the horrible memory. "She nearly died saving my life."

"But you almost died saving mine," Rina pointed out. "That means something."

"I was never at risk of dying," Aang said flatly. "Nothing will kill me."

"You are a true Firebender, and I respect your conviction- "

"It's a fact," he interrupted. "Not even Sozin can kill me. Bring the Four Races together to attack me, and I will triumph."

Rina swallowed. "But you still saved my life; you spared me from suffering. I want to reciprocate and spare you from suffering, even if only for a night. You suffer so clearly. Let me give you peace. Please."

"What you offer won't bring me peace. My wife tried, and she failed. Even if I were interested, you would fail, as well."

"I do not believe you," Rina said, voice trembling with emotion. "No, it is easy to lie when you look away. I dare you to lie to my face. Look at me and tell me you do not yearn to unite your body with mine."

He sighed and turned fully to face her, but the words died in his throat at the allure she presented; she was everything he realized he wanted in the moment—but it was exactly like what happened to Azula! After he returned her from her limbo, he had been overwhelmed—like he felt now!

Aang leaned away, voice lowering as he struggled for control. "No." But the fire flared inside him, burning and growing hotter, and there was no smothering it. "I love my wife, though I'm bad at showing it."

He recalled Azula, and his memories were jagged, jarring him out of his solace—it was agonizing! But why did he want more? He focused harder and saw flames specked in her mesmerizing golden eyes, which, though possessed the same shade as Rina's eyes, possessed a different character and shone with different memories and experiences; he saw mischief and intelligence fight for control of her tongue, conveyed by the words falling from her lips; he saw her brows rise in fearless challenge and furrow in indomitable determination; he heard her laugh, its ring striking and radiant—the first laugh to evoke his own real essence-filled laughter since after the Great War; he saw her mind brim with its peculiar wonders and reasonable intelligence, sharpened by the experiences that cultivated the wisdom that permitted her to seek Air and fall in love with it; and he felt the freedom in her breaths, confirmed by her genuine love for Air. The memory of her black hair waving in the wind, so similar to the laughter and intelligence swimming in her eyes, scorched his eyes, and he hissed.

He slammed his fist through the volcanic rock, causing Rina to jump in surprise—and a hint of fear—as a powerful wave of heat seeped through the hole from the inside of the volcano. But he didn't care. There was a reason—countless reasons!—why the love he felt for Azula didn't matter! There were countless reasons why his love for her didn't matter at all! There were countless reasons why the many reasons he loved her didn't matter! There were countless reasons why the love he felt was evil and disgusting!

There were countless reasons why he was making the correct decision; there were countless reasons why their marriage was an abominable, horrifying mistake! There were countless reasons why he would never go back to that damned, evil time.

He felt the memories slide off him—as they needed to—and placed them among the many other memories he had borne since the day he learned he was The Avatar. None of that mattered.

Azula didn't matter—she didn't! He tried to convince himself that she didn't matter, but it felt frail and lethargic—something forced rather than believed. He focused instead on the marriage itself rather than her and found much more vigor awaiting him there! He would hate his marriage forever—as he should!

But his marriage was his marriage; he was married, though his marriage would be destroyed once he saved his race from their imminent destruction. He loved Air too much to disavow the ancient teachings, no matter how appalling his marriage was.

"If I was someone else, I'd take your offer," he confessed honestly. "I'd take it like you couldn't believe; I'd take it immediately. But I can't take it, no matter how much I may want to. I'm sorry."

Rina swallowed. "But your wife will never know."

"She wouldn't know," he agreed. "But sometimes you have to make hard decisions in Life. This is one of them—turning down a beautiful woman who offers herself genuinely to you." His lips quirked in amusement as he laughed suddenly. "I suspect she would shoot lightning at you if she knew of your offer—to maim, of course, not kill."

"You love her."

"Yes."

He had married her for many reasons, even though he shouldn't have—because there were even more, many more, reasons why he shouldn't have!

Rina wiped tears from her eyes and dressed herself with uncoordinated movements. "I hope she knows of the depths of your devotion to her."

"She doesn't and never will because of my decision," Aang whispered. "I've made a lot of mistakes, but this decision, though it's hard, is the right decision."

"What does it matter, then?" Rina demanded, pausing in her movements. "Why not enjoy yourself with me? Do you love her so fully that even the memory of her- "

"Our memories of those we love is often all we have," he interrupted, eyes hazing. "But the memories aren't enough."

"Then make new memories with me," she encouraged, seeming to find hope again. "They will be beautiful memories to last us the length of our lives."

"Memories aren't enough," Aang repeated, looking out the hole he had created when he punched the volcanic rock; the volcano was alive but tame, bubbling with ancient intensity. "That's why I made my decision. I go to the source and fix what I ruined."

Rina approached again, but her tread was different; it was less confident and more uncertain. "You reject my offer of love, but will you reject my offer of aid? I can help you."

"This is for me only," he said, voice adamant. "You would be killed."

"Death does not scare me."

Aang glanced at her, relieved that she was clothed. "Death does scare you, more than you realize. Why else would you offer yourself so completely to me if not for relief of being spared Death, which scares you?"

"Because I am grateful and awed."

"Because you were spared the embrace of Death by me," he finished. "You have no conception of me but as your savior, a mysterious stranger who saved your life."

"And that is enough."

Aang shook his head. "Only for tonight it is."

Rina's hand reached up and brushed across his cheek and through his beard, thumb rubbing softly. "Which is enough. Accept what I offer. Find solace in me as I found solace in you."

"You're persistent," he said with a huff of amusement as he reached up and pulled Rina's hand away from his cheek.

"And you are stubborn. I am not going to defile you if that is what you fear."

"I fear nothing."

Rina touched his cheek again, and she pulled his gaze to hers, and he hated that he kept letting her do it. She was only so persistent because he was letting her be so persistent. Why was he hesitating? He loved Azula! He did! But why did Rina affect him so profoundly? Why did she tempt him so thoroughly when no woman before ever did until Azula?

It hit him suddenly like one of Azula's lightning strikes.

Ursa was not of Sozin's blood, but she was tainted by Ozai, and Azula was of Sozin's blood, which included Ozai, and she was tainted by Ozai, weaponized by him cruelly. Azula once adored Sozin, but Rina never adored Sozin. Rina was free from such complications. She was how he wished Azula could be—free of that darkness infecting her. She had much of Azula's personality, intelligence, and beauty—with small differences, of course—while lacking her impure lineage.

Rina was the perfect woman; she was pure.

"You do not fear your death but the deaths of others," Rina said. He realized from whom Azula inherited her perceptive nature.

"Yes. I don't want to be alone. I hate that I'm alone."

Rina swallowed. "I am alone, as well. I am the last of my family. My mother died eight months after my father died; she hated the thought of living in a world without him and died in her sleep; she was miserable during those eight months. I had a brother who died long before my birth, and my mother said always that my brother's death robbed my father of centuries of life; it aged him severely. I saw paintings of him before and after, and the difference was horrifying. And I had a sister, as well, who I loved deeply. But she died saving me a year ago when one of our attacks on Sozin went wrong."

Roku's sudden enraged presence felt overwhelming, and Aang grunted, taking a step forward, body curling in on itself slightly in an effort to contain his predecessor—Rina's father—to hold him in.

"Are you okay?" Rina demanded, face panicked. "Are you hurt? I knew those chi-blocks must have impacted you- "

"It's nothing," Aang assured after several moments of forcing Roku away. "Your story impacted me. You are alone, and I'm sorry you're alone. Did Sozin kill your sister?"

"No. His new wife did." Azulon's mother and Azula's great-grandmother on her other side of the family, Aang realized dimly. "I think he vowed to marry her when she proved her strength by killing one of Roku's own daughters. And Sozin killed her husband. They were good people, and Sozin and his wife killed them."

"I'm sorry," he consoled.

"But we are both alone," Rina murmured, wiping tears from her golden eyes.

"My wife lessens my loneliness," Aang revealed.

"But she does not erase it."

"No one does," he replied. "That's why I made my decision—so I can erase it."

"You are stubborn to refuse my offer."

"My stubbornness is the only reason the world still exists."

Rina shook her head, clearly believing that he was exaggerating. He wondered briefly if he told her that he was her father reborn if she would believe him. Likely not—unless he wielded all the elements. "We can find solace together—just for a night. Do you not want a reprieve?"

"My reprieve is that I'm here in the first place, and I'm not done. I have more things to do; I'm going to fix everything."

"By killing Sozin."

"Among other things."

"What if you fail?"

Aang laughed slightly at such an impossible notion. "I won't fail."

"What if he kills you? Sozin is powerful."

Something vicious seethed inside him, and he saw Rina take an instinctive step back when their eyes met. "Sozin is nothing," he snapped. "When I'm done, no one will remember his name; he won't even enjoy the Gardens."

"The Gardens of the Dead?"

"Yes."

Rina's fingers brushed over the table, face mournful. "I do not want you to leave without knowing you fully. I have never met anyone like you in my life."

"Maybe if things were different," he acknowledged with a shrug of his shoulders. "Maybe I'll make things different, and you can have that chance with me."

Or she could have that chance with that boy who just learned he was The Avatar once he came of age. He doubted the age difference would matter to Rina, for she was attracted clearly to power—another similarity to Azula—and the boy would have all the power in the world, especially if Aang gave it to him.

Because that's what he was going to do, right? He was going to stop Air's murder and kill Sozin, ending Sozin's lineage, even if it killed his best friend and wife. That was the sacrifice he was committed to making. But why did he lack conviction?

It was Air—Air! He could get Air back! If Zuko and Azula's deaths were the price for Air's salvation, it was the smallest of prices to pay! But why didn't it feel small? Logically, it was the right thing to do, but emotionally, it was the wrong thing to do. But also, emotionally, it was the right thing to do, but logically, it was the wrong thing to do! He thought he was finally winning after years of losing by using the Tree of Time, but he was still losing! Aang felt like ripping out his hair. But he refrained, knowing it would reveal his tattoo of mastery and, thus, his identity to Rina, who was too intelligent to believe him if he said that he was a dedicated friend to Air, an honorary nomad entrusted by the High Council of Elders. She would put together that he was a Firebender and also an Airbender—and, thus, The Avatar, the only possible explanation.

"We can make things different now," she offered, voice frustrated that he clearly couldn't see the obvious that she could.

"It is only me," he corrected. "There is no 'we' here."

"There is if you allow it."

"But I won't, and I never will."

Rina stared at him in disbelief. "But you said you try to fix your loneliness. If I go with you, I can mitigate it."

"Why would you want to come with me?"

She smiled. "The group dedicated to stopping Sozin of which I am part did not try to rescue me, but you did. The group and I have had no victories, only losses against him, the foremost of which is my sister and her husband's deaths. The first victory I experienced beyond surviving another day is today when you killed all those chi-blockers and Sozin's prized agents. I think you have momentum to stop Sozin, and once Fire starts, it does not stop and consumes everything in its path, and in your path is Sozin. I want to be there when you kill him."

"You will die," Aang dismissed flatly.

"You think by Sozin?"

Either that or from mortification when she learns inevitably that she offered herself fully to her father reborn. "Or someone else," he said shortly. "I don't want you to die."

"If I die watching Sozin die, it will be a worthy sight to die to."

Roku's presence was intent but subtle. "It's not what your father would want," he pointed out after several moments.

"You did not know him."

"And you knew him very little," Aang dared, glancing down at her. "You were young when he died- "

"I am older than I look."

"How old are you?"

She blinked in surprise at his bold question. "You do not ask a woman's age- "

"I'm asking."

"Thirty-three."

Aang assessed her briefly, amazed that she looked the same age as Azula. "You're older than you look."

"And I knew my father," she hissed. "How dare you say I did not!"

Aang stared at her for several moments. "Would he want you to die as he did, or would he want you to live?"

She flinched and said nothing.

"Would he want you to wither away, chasing your impossible vengeance, or would he want you to forgive Sozin as he did?"

Rina's jaw clenched. "What makes you think my father forgave Sozin?"

Aang almost laughed; he knew Roku better than she ever would—because Roku was him. "He never killed him when it would have been easy for him to do so. It would have been effortless."

She swallowed, eyes misty with irate emotion. "But I cannot forgive Sozin as he did; he had a lifetime of friendship to remember and contradict his unease and displeasure with him. I do not have that—not at all. All I have for Sozin is hatred, and I hate him more than any man alive."

"I hate him more than you do."

Rina's golden eyes narrowed, and he saw the resemblance to Azula further. "Do not insult me. I lost my entire family to Sozin."

"Your brother's death was not Sozin- "

"I am not so certain," Rina snapped, hugging herself. "My mother said my father lost himself to his grief for years and, because of it, he neglected his duties as The Avatar; he didn't even help with the famines that were happening, too distraught over my brother's death, which he thought was his fault. And during that time, Sozin began occupying Earth's territory, stretching Fire's influence. Maybe it was chance, a mere coincidence, but it would not surprise me at all if Sozin orchestrated my brother's death because he knew he could capitalize on my father's distracted state. Either way, I lost my entire family to Sozin."

Aang felt deep sympathy for her; he felt that she understood him more than anyone in the Gaang could, for she was alone and would be hunted for her identity, for the very blood in his veins—which was how he had been during the Great War. "I lost a world," he offered. "I understand."

"What does that mean? You 'lost a world.'"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Rina's head tilted in challenge. "My capacity for belief is larger than most."

"Then use your belief right now and believe that I'm not going to take you with me."

The frustration on her face was vivid and powerful. "But why? I do not need your protection."

"Your averted execution by me notwithstanding, of course," he drawled, and he visualized Azula's nod of approval.

"You said it yourself—I was planning to escape. Sozin does not scare me."

"He should," Aang whispered, thinking of Air's murder and the pervasive, unholy loss that he no longer felt in the world—because he was in the best days! It was glorious! It was beautiful! "You have no idea of what Sozin is capable. Even though you say he killed your family, that is nothing compared to his crimes. A family is a starting point for him; he targets nations and races; he targets The Avatar himself. He will dismember those you love before your eyes, reveling in the sound of your screams; he will look down on your corpse and smile before spitting on it; he will mar the honor of the Dead by leaving your body to rot; he will obliterate your name from any record and forbid anyone from endowing a child with your name under the penalty of execution; he rips husbands from wives, sending them to die in war, and he takes the wives for himself; he rapes everything he touches; he worships Death and tries to satisfy it by offering it the spirits of innocents; he unmans men and unwomans women; he corrupts children and twists them into something they were never supposed to be; he inflicts mutilation in the name of modification; he feeds his dragon, Azar, by gutting pregnant women and ripping out the babies for a snack; he gnaws on the raw, torn flesh of his victims to intimidate and cow those he sees use for; and he loves nothing but cruelty, madness, and the feeling of blood on his hands."

Rina looked sickened, face bloodless as she stared at him, horrified. "How do you- "

"I know Sozin," Aang said simply. "I know him better than anyone, and I will be the last thing he ever sees, and my wrath consuming him will be his last sensation, before I throw him into the Void of Eternity."

"I believe you," Rina whispered, awed. "But I have never heard these things about Sozin, and you speak of them with such fact, with such conviction, that I believe you. How do you know about his evil?"

"Something's coming," he divulged after several moments. "I saw it in my dreams."

"You saw the conflict that is coming, obvious to those who are aware?"

Aang tensed. "Yes. I saw the atrocities; I saw the madness. I'm going to stop it from happening."

"By killing Sozin."

"And anyone else who tries to take his place. But you will not be there," he emphasized. "You can try to follow me, but you will fail."

Rina must have seen something in his face or eyes, for she seemed to realize that he would never let her join him; she bowed her head. "Will I see you again?"

"You might," Aang said honestly. "It might take some years before you're interested again, and I don't think I'll be like you remember, but it's still me."

He knew she didn't understand what he was talking about—that she needed to wait for that boy to mature and become fully-realized to see him again—but she stepped forward and hugged him, and Aang hugged her back after several moments. "No matter what happens, live your life," he advised in a whisper. "Find joy in simplicity, the key to a fulfilling life. Try to find peace."

"There is no peace with Sozin alive. I think he killed my father."

"You may be right," he said quietly. "But know that your father is proud of you, Rina."

She stiffened. "I never told you my name."

"You didn't need to," he replied after a moment, mind on fire in its intensity to conceive a feasible explanation for her accusation. What would Azula say? "There were posters announcing your execution, and your name was listed."

Rina relaxed, and her face nestled into his chest. "You are right—I do not love you. But I see myself loving you so easily if given the chance."

Aang swallowed. "I could see myself loving you if things go differently."

Rina smiled and wiped tears from her golden eyes. "You speak so honestly about some things and yet so cryptically about other things. You are a contradiction."

"May each of our contradictions sort themselves out." He released her and sensed Agni's light begin to wash over the world outside. "I need to go."

"At least let us know each other's names," Rina whispered, golden eyes desperate. "You know mine, but I do not know yours."

Aang stared at her for several moments. "I'm Aang, son of Gyatso and husband of Azula."

"I am Rina, daughter of Roku and lover of Aang if he will have me."

He hesitated. "I'm not as great as you seem to think I am."

"Only a great man would go on such a quest when the rest of the world is quiet and passive."

"I don't want to be great; I want to be good."

"You are both—another contradiction," she observed, smiling. "But may this contradiction of yours never sort itself out."

Aang's lips curled slightly. "Goodbye, Rina."

"Thank you for this intimacy, Aang. I have never felt anything like it before. And even if I do not ever feel it again, I am grateful that I shared this with you for one night. I think I will always love you for it. And I will love you more if you kill Sozin." Something promising entered her golden eyes. "And I assure you, you will accept my offer of reward after you kill him. You deserve it."

"We'll see."

"You hunt down Sozin and kill him, and I will reorganize with my group to prepare for civil war in the Fire Nation and find a worthy successor of Kai's line. Then after that, we can find out how great you are, how great I am, and how great we are together."

Aang smiled sadly. "Good luck."

"Are you going to the Caldera?"

He hesitated, wondering if she would try to follow him. "Maybe."

Rina smiled and pulled him by his arm out the door and into another room. "You will need a change of clothes."

Aang looked down at his pirate attire. "You think so?"

"You cannot wear that," she said, brows rising in amazement. "You look like a pirate."

"I took it from a pirate."

"The stories you can tell," she breathed, looking intrigued. "But to blend in, you must look noble-like, especially in the Caldera."

Aang was reminded of when he met Azula on Ember Island and she made him dress differently to preserve their anonymity. "Okay."

Rina entered what looked like a closet. "You are my father's height—if a little taller. He will have something for you to wear."

He almost laughed at the irony but felt a deep fondness, born of Roku, that Rina had kept his clothes even after his death. "I trust your judgment."

She pulled out noble robes and held them out for him. "Here."

He appraised them with a quick glance and nodded. "I'll blend in a lot easier in that."

"But wash it first," she said. "It has not been washed in twelve years, at least—likely longer."

That explained the smell.

"I'll wash them when I go to the next island," he promised.

Rina stared up at him for several long moments before smiling to hide the emotion on her face as she pulled out a bag of coins. "Take these," she offered. "For your trip for food or anything else you need. You need them more than I do. If it kills Sozin, pour it down his throat and make him choke on them."

Aang accepted the bag and held Roku's clothes on his other arm, memorizing Rina. "Thank you, Rina."

She smiled with thickening mist in her eyes. "Thank you, Aang."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Roku's clothes fit him perfectly after he washed them, and when he reached the Caldera four days later, he blended in seamlessly with everyone else—if anything, he looked a little too noble next to some of those he encountered in the Caldera. But because of his clothing, nobody dared stop him or say anything to him, even though he clearly didn't look of Fire as he should.

Or perhaps the look on his face and in his eyes cowed them.

He knew he should wait until night to sneak into the palace—he knew it was the rational strategy—but he continued walking in broad daylight, passing everyone without a word, letting all the gazes, some more hostile, suspicious, and resentful than others, slide off him like waters parting for a stone jutting out of the stream.

When he reached the outskirts of the palace, he realized there were a group of people following him at a brief distance—likely Sozin's agents. Aang increased his pace, walked taller, and marched, making it clear to anyone who looked at him what his objective was—where it lied as he glared down the palace. The group following him intensified their paces in turn, heartbeats elevating, and he smiled in victory as the massive pillars brushing the sky—trying to touch Agni himself—loomed over him.

He swept his arms behind him, gathering the winds, and rocketed the group following him forward as he crashed his arms together; they cried out in surprise as they crashed in front of him in a heap of limbs. Before they could recover, he sunk them into the earth up to their necks. "Where's Sozin?" he demanded.

One spit at him. "Earthbender!"

They clearly hadn't realized he used airbending earlier to surprise them; they thought it was earthbending, particularly since he used earthbending to trap them.

The fact that The Avatar was before them was impossible for their minds to comprehend.

Aang tightened his grips on their bodies, crushing them slowly with the stone. "Where's Sozin?"

"In your ass!" another cried out in sneering fury.

He hissed and crushed him completely, eyeballs bursting of their sockets in an explosion of gore, and blood seeped out of all available orifices before a rush of air escaped his parted, blood-stained lips; the lungs were gone.

The others shouted in hateful dread, crying out for their dead friend, but Aang paid their accusations and threats no mind; instead, he raised the dead man out of the ground, letting all of them see the desecrated body. The man was unrecognizable with limbs handing on only by fractured bones, hanging at unnatural angles; his chest was caved in, mangled and crushed, bones piercing through dead flesh in several areas.

It was a dissolution of identity forever.

"Do you want to join him?" Aang asked, voice light, and he knew Azula would be proud.

"Fuck you, you Earth cunt!"

"Where's Sozin?" he demanded, trying not to lose his temper.

They shuddered before they all glanced at their dead friend before looking at each other; they nodded and glared back up at him. "In your ass!" they shouted in unison.

Aang replicated his attack on the rest, disgusted; he would never understand how Sozin obtained such fervent loyalty from the Children of Fire. He sunk the corpses into the earth, where they would lie forever in rest, and continued to the palace, heart pounding in anticipation.

When he entered the palace, he couldn't contain the giddy feeling ravishing him—it was time!

A group of palace guards approached him as he stalked down the familiar halls. "To which House do you belong?" one demanded.

Aang knew he meant which Noble House he hailed from, looking like a noble due to Roku's clothes, but he was tired of pretending; he was ready to do whatever he needed to find Sozin. But he knew if he ruined it, Sozin might escape possibly, no matter how improbably.

"I have an appointment," he lied. "I'm scheduled to see the Fire Lord. He and I have much to discuss."

"What is your name?"

"Kuzon."

Suspicion entered their eyes. "From what House do you hail?"

He scoffed and raised his arms, emphasizing the swirl of noble colors adorning him. "You can't tell?"

Apparently, he said something wrong as the guards shifted into firebending stances. "Who are you?" another demanded, voice rising.

He tried for restraint; it wasn't much. "I'm telling you now—walk away. If you don't, you'll never be able to again. Rethink your loyalty to the scheming coward who sits on the Dragon's Throne."

Their eyes widened in shock before they narrowed as they attacked; they didn't get far. Aang lashed out with airbending, depriving them of the air in their lungs; he watched as they suffocated, features paling and thin, astonished with the terrified realization of what was happening to them. Firebenders relied on their breaths for producing their flames, but without air, it was impossible for any of them to summon a single spark to defend themselves, even though Aang was right in front of them. They expired in front of him, collapsing unnaturally onto their sides or faces, legs angled back in different directions. Aang disposed of their bodies in the ground, tearing through the lush carpet and décor of the palace, uncaring of the evidence that something had happened.

He was tired of hiding! Let Sozin run! Let him run to the ends of the world, but he would find him! He would hunt him down and kill him, even if he impossibly managed to go to the Immortal Realm!

Thankfully, no one else appeared to confront him; he stretched his senses and frowned as he realized the palace was mostly empty; it seemed almost deserted. Something wary flashed through him—the memory of finding the Caldera empty during the Day of Black Sun, leading to humiliation and horror—but he brushed it aside; he knew Sozin was in the palace somewhere! Based on his calculations, there was about nine weeks until the Attack under Sozin's Comet.

Aang paused when he reached the royal gallery and saw Sozin's portrait; it was different from what he remembered. There was no comet, and Sozin seemed much kinder and less imposing; he was still certainly intimidating in the portrait, but it was different from how he appeared in that damned, evil time. He lit it on fire and watched the flames eat it, savoring how Sozin's face blackened and disappeared with slow, steady momentum.

He reached the royal halls and wasted no time—not even a word or movement, no pause at all in his steps—in killing the guards, exploding their lungs, and sinking their corpses into the ground, destroying more of the décor. However, when he rounded the corner, he saw two women, older than him by at least five or ten years, but he paused when he noticed that their appearances were identical—they were twins.

He blinked as he realized they must be Li and Lo, who Azula had told him about; they were her tutors after Zuko was banished, living long lives. "Princesses Li and Lo," he greeted, coming to them, and bowing as Azula had showed him. "It is an honor."

One of them—he couldn't distinguish who was whom—glanced at him in distaste. "What is that ridiculous headband you have on? It is improper."

Aang smiled, though it was tight. "It's more improper to show the scar it's hiding. I had to make a decision and decided not to offend your modesty."

The other's chin tilted. "We thank you for your courtesy. However, you are not permitted to be in this section of the palace."

"I got lost," he said with an embarrassed laugh. "I have a pressing appointment with the Fire Lord. Can you direct me to where he is, please?"

"What did you say your name was?"

"Kuzon."

Their eyes swept over him. "Those are fine robes," one observed, brows furrowing. "But your appearance is- "

"I'm from Ember Island."

"No," the other whispered, suspicion filling her face. "You are a foreigner. Your dialect is not- "

"I dress to impress," he interrupted. "I thought it would put me on good terms with the Fire Lord."

Their eyes swept pass him, and he felt it as it happened; they realized he was lying—he wasn't sure how, but he knew. But they smiled with a hint of haughty serenity on their faces. "From what part on Ember Island?" one asked.

"The hot part."

"Do you know Nobleman Youri?"

"Of course," he responded, watching their eyes tighten. "He lives on the other side of the island."

They huddled closer together, but their voices were light: "How did you get to this part of the palace?"

"Did the guards tell you to come here?" the other asked in clarification.

They were stalling—it was obvious.

His face darkened, giving up on his charade. "I came because I wanted to, and what I want now is very simple—where's your father?"

"Busy," they answered in unison, backing away from him.

Aang snapped and smashed them into the wall; he gripped each by their throats, one in each hand. "You have one more opportunity," he hissed. "Where's your father?"

They struggled fiercely, but when he warmed his hands, they stilled, panic and horror on their faces. "May Agni smite you!" one choked out.

"Not before I smite him first," he countered. "Go on, call him; call him now. Pray to Agni to come and stop me. Do it. See how weak he is for yourself. I'll rip him in half again." Aang looked to the ceiling, to where he knew Agni shone directly. "Come on, Agni! Come down! Stop me—I dare you!"

One of their eyes bulged in incomprehension. "You are a madman!"

"Your father made me this way." His grip on their throats tightened, and he knew Agni wouldn't dare try to stop him; no one would dare. He was supreme! He was an immortal! He was The Avatar! "Where is he?"

When they choked against him, trying to speak, he released them, but he realized his error immediately as triumphant fear washed over them. They screamed for help simultaneously, voices ringing in the air with double intensity, but he lashed out swiftly, pulling the screams out of their lungs, depriving them of air. He watched with grim satisfaction as they clawed at each other for strength, identical hysteria seeping into their taut flesh.

He released his hold, and they gasped for air simultaneously, falling to all fours in reflective images of each other. "Last chance," he barked. "I know you don't love him. He cast you out of the line of succession, barred any of your sons you bear from inheriting his throne; he thinks you're disappointments to his prestigious lineage, endowed with Agni's innate might." He crouched in front of their blood-drained faces, face dark and true. "He considers you sludges that seeped out of your mother, incomplete and worthless—because you're not Firebenders. If I asked him where you were, he would give you both up instantly. You have always wanted to be worthy heirs of Sozin—be like him now. Be cowards. Tell me where he is."

One twin princess shuddered. "We last saw him in his private study."

Aang assessed her heartbeat but realized he couldn't read her as it already beat so rapidly and chaotically from her fear that it was pointless. To assure himself, he held a flame to the other twin princess' throat, who stilled in terror. "Are you lying to me?" he demanded.

"No!" she screamed, voice raw and petrified.

He released her sister, satisfied. "Now walk me to your rooms."

If there was any blood left in their faces, it vanished immediately. "You will rape us?" one asked, voice cracking in horror.

Aang flinched at the accusation. "Of course not."

When they ran into any guard or courtier on their way to their rooms, Aang killed them all swiftly before any alarm could be sounded and buried the bodies in walls and the ground, not caring that he was revealing himself as The Avatar.

The time had come to murder Sozin—it was all that mattered!

Lo and Li paused outside rooms next to each other. "These are our rooms," one notified, voice quiet and beaten.

Aang decided to keep them together. "Into the first one, both of you," he ordered, watching as they complied. "Are your husbands here?"

They tensed but shook their heads. "No, they are away."

He believed them as he absorbed the grand room, decorated with splendor and extravagant pieces. "I'm going to knock you out," he announced after several moments. "But when you wake up, it will be to a world transformed."

They held onto each other fiercely, and by the looks on their faces, they thought he was going to violate them while they were unconscious, and he understood why they believed it—why they refused to believe his assurance that he was not, in fact, going to violate them. But he didn't care for their fear; he cared only for their silence.

He knocked them out before he could waste any more time, forcing them into slumber. He dropped each one of them on the bed, observing them; they looked nothing like Azula—or Rina, though he saw Sozin in their features, confirming their identities as Princesses of Fire. Because of the evil blood in their veins, he might need to kill them, but because they posed no threat in the slightest to him, he spared them. He could kill them later on after he killed Sozin. Instead, he moved to the secret passage but paused at one of the portraits on the wall; it depicted Li and Lo but also an elderly woman and Sozin. The elderly woman was clearly Li and Lo's mother, Sozin's first Fire Lady whom he loved so deeply as not to set her aside due to her failure to bear him a healthy, viable heir. But they all looked noble, serene, and powerful in the portrait, and Aang sneered in disgust as he entered one of the secret passages; he would make Sozin reveal his innermost nature as ignoble, chaotic, and weak in his final moments!

He knew the secret passages well from his experiences with Zuko in that damned, evil time and followed his memory; his earthbending helped also. However, when he exited into the Fire Lord's private study, it was empty and looked shockingly different from Zuko's version of the study that he paused, surprised. The desk was much smaller, and there were very little tomes and scrolls on the shelves. However, there were scrolls scattered on the desk, and Aang stiffened when he realized what they were—scrolls that detailed the layouts of each Air Temple.

Aang scrambled forward in terror, bumping into the desk in his urgency, and brushed his fingers over the scrolls; he paled as he saw the extensive mapping, drawn from different angles and from different parts of the temples. He thumbed through dozens and dozens of scrolls on Sozin's desk, feeling more and more hysterical as the layouts were equally detailed and extensive, and on each scroll, there were key areas emphasized and highlighted, circled or underlined, some with arrows indicating importance; there were notes in the margins of each, as well, but the writings were different, written in different hands—not only Sozin's, clearly. But even more disgusting—and infuriating—were the several scrolls that depicted hordes of wealth hidden in each temple, indicated extensively by the arrows drawn on the scrolls.

But besides the craven drawings of the imagined hordes of riches, likely a deception meant to help justify the attack in the eyes of cautious nobles, everything he saw was dreadfully accurate. How had Sozin obtained such priceless information about the Air Temples? How could he have planned it to such an impossible degree? Only Air Nomads knew the temples with the sheer familiarity and intimacy etched onto the scrolls! How did Sozin do it? Had he been secretly visiting each temple? Had he sent spies, agents, or messengers to visit with Air but secretly recorded the layouts of each temple during the visit?

Aang hissed through his teeth, infuriated all the more as he stuffed the scrolls into his robes, planning to make Sozin eat them before he died. Once satisfied that there was nothing left related to Air in the private study, Aang lit a flame and watched as the private study burned, destroying everything inside as black smoke filled the air in a dangerous haze.

Good.

He let the room burn as he left through the secret passages, navigating his way to the Fire Lord's personal rooms, knowing Sozin had to be there—he had to be! If he wasn't, he would destroy the entire palace in his search for him.

But when he reached the Fire Lord's rooms, he knew without even entering that the rooms were empty; there were no vibrations inside. He went inside to make sure his instinct was correct. Unfortunately, it was correct as the rooms held no occupants, not even servants or guards. He stood in the rooms for several minutes, trying to think of where Sozin could be; he knew Li and Lo hadn't lied to him, which meant they didn't know where their father was.

Was Sozin beneath the palace, hiding? Had his rescue of Rina alerted him that something was wrong—that there was someone out there who was willing to save one of his fiercest opponents and would attack him? Did Sozin think that he and Rina would come for him in revenge? Did he think that hiding beneath the palace would save him?

Nothing would save him.

Realizing it was the only conclusion, Aang prepared to tunnel directly beneath the palace through Sozin's rooms to reach the underground caverns he once walked during the Day of Black Sun, but he paused when he sensed a heavily pregnant woman approach from outside. He turned and watched the door, feeling through his earthbending that the woman, certainly pregnant, stopped before the Fire Lord's rooms.

He knew instantly who she was, for there was only one person, only one pregnant woman alive, who had the authority to enter the Fire Lord's rooms without escort or while the Fire Lord was absent—Fire Lady Shala, Azulon's mother.

As the door began to open, he hid himself in the shadows and watched as Fire Lady Shala entered; her beauty struck him, but she looked nothing like Azula—or Rina. Rather, he saw Azulon's powerful resemblance to her, though the nose and eyebrows were different; Azulon inherited those traits from Sozin, but his face shape was entirely his mother's, though more masculine than his mother's. Shala carried a jug of water with her, and Aang watched, surprised, as she began to water the plants in the room that he hadn't noticed previously. One hand was held against her swollen belly, unable to be hidden by her elaborate robes, and the other poured the jug, going to each plant in a rhythm, nourishing each.

"Will you love plants as I do, little one?" Shala cooed to her swollen belly, hand rubbing with maternal affection, joy, and wonder. "Your father does not see the pleasure in them, I know, but he admires their beauty, even if from a distance. But I can never get enough of them. I would fill every room in the palace with them if your father permitted it." She laughed slightly, and Aang stared at her, uncomfortable, and he didn't know why. "When you ascend the Dragon's Throne and become Fire Lord, perhaps you can fulfill my longing. Will you do that for me, little one?"

"He's not going to do anything ever," Aang said, stepping out of the shadows.

Shala whirled around, eyes widening before she dropped the jug and shifted into a fighting stance and lobbied firebending attack after firebending attack, even while heavily pregnant; she certainly was powerful and renowned with her youthful vigor and determination, worthy of being Sozin's wife and Azulon's mother. But Aang deflected all her attacks with ease, knowing which moves she would make before she could make them based on her footing and body position—her pregnancy slowed her down and simultaneously cataloged her intentions to anyone who understood bending katas.

No one knew bending katas better than he did.

He slammed a wave of fire against her fire before bursting through the flames in a brilliant dash of vivid color, surprising her as she gasped, stumbling back, and braced herself against the wall, one hand protecting her swollen belly.

"Who are you?" she demanded, clearly realizing that she couldn't defeat him.

"A legend," he answered, watching her. "You know of me, though I'm not what you expect."

Shala's eyes were livid with fury. "How dare you- "

Aang pulled a lash of water from the ground, pooled from her dropped jug, into the air and smacked her across the face, stunning her into silence as she froze. He watched with minor amusement as she realized what he had done—used waterbending after cowing her using firebending; he had used two elements, but there was only one man capable of using two elements. The incomprehensible denial washed over her face as her eyes roamed him, bulging in terror, and he observed the denial dissipate for impossible realization.

"You are too old," she whispered, voice cracking in horror as she huddled against the wall. "You should only be twelve years old! You look over thirty!"

He had no idea if she thought he looked so old because of his beard or if he naturally looked that way—or if it was because his appearance was such a mess. However, he had no intention of diminishing her terror as he smiled without mirth. "I don't age like you do. You think a living god among you should live by your rules, but I don't live by your rules—I live outside of your rules and choose to confine myself within the weak limits of your rules." He leaned forward as Zuko's words stimulated. "I'm an immortal. And I choose not to live by your rules anymore."

Shala stared at him in dread. "What does that mean?"

He approached her, each step—stomp—the sound of thunder itself. "Where's your husband?"

"I will never tell you!"

"You shouldn't be so quick to cruelty."

Her golden eyes flashed. "You would know! You are cruel, distant to all our suffering—like your race, whose actions are cruel forever!"

"I regret all the inaction I've ever done," he murmured. "I don't regret my action—like now. And I won't regret my actions if I kill you. I've had enough, and I've decided it, and the world is mine to make. What Was is What Is. Tell me where your husband is."

"No- "

He slashed his fingers, and the sound of lightning erupted in waves of a deafening screech as it smashed into the grand bed, splintering it into deadly shards that he swiped away from connecting to him or Shala, and the only reason she didn't fall back in her instinct to get away was that he held her in position with airbending.

He radiated absolute, unstoppable, fathomless power as he loomed over her. "I need to know where he is. That is my only need. I have no need for you, otherwise."

Shala swallowed, but her jaw jutted out in determination. "You need me alive because I am the only one who knows where he is."

"You're lying," he observed, feeling the truth in her deceptive heartbeat. "You know where he is, but there are others who know, too. But you're the only one now who knows. Where is he, Shala?"

"He visits Ember Island to quell noble dissent- "

He gripped her long hair and yanked viciously, slamming her head back into the wall. "No games!" he roared. "No lies! Where is he? Where's Sozin?"

Her legs buckled from the strength of his blow, but, ironically, his grip on her hair kept her standing; her golden eyes brimmed with hatred and fear. "Do whatever you want to me—rape me, if that is your wish—but do not hurt my son."

Aang looked down at her swollen belly, in which Azulon lived. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill him."

"He is innocent!"

The wall beneath his hand crumbled. "No one of Sozin's blood is innocent!" he yelled, bringing his face close to hers, watching with satisfaction as the blood drained from her face, which trembled with horror and confusion. "I do this to cleanse the world of Evil, and Sozin is Evil—I will destroy all that he loves as he destroyed all that I love."

"My son is Fire's heir! He is my heart!" Her flaming hand lashed out at him, but he caught it effortlessly and added his own flames to her hand. She screamed in agony as her flesh burned extensively, and he didn't let up. "Please!" she begged through her anguished tears.

He released his flames, and she wavered on her feet in hysteria as she cradled her blackened, ruined hand against her chest while her other hand—her only healthy hand left—was held over her swollen belly in a futile effort for protection. "You're making this harder than it needs to be," he condemned. "I want his location. Is he beneath the palace? Is that it?"

"Yes!"

Aang smashed his hand into the wall next to her head, intimidating her. "I said no lies! You can't lie to me! I know- "

She blew flames out of her mouth in a final desperate attack, and Aang roared in pained fury as the flames connected, beginning to lick his skin and burn his beard and mustache, but within a moment, he wrenched control of the flames away and dissipated them; he glared at her as he ripped the water out of the plants, killing them instantly, and healed whatever superficial injuries she dealt him, alighting Shala's petrified face in a blue hue for several moments.

"That's one of your grandson's favorite attacks," he commented, recalling Iroh's famed attack, but it wasn't only Iroh; it was Ozai, as well. "Both of your grandsons, actually. But I know how to destroy that attack at its source."

Aang held the large globe over Shala's pale face; he saw in her eyes that she was not scared for herself but for her baby—for Azulon. He wasn't swayed as he forced the water into her mouth and choked her, drowning her; she thrashed, but Aang restrained her limbs with airbending, locking her in place. She needed to have the strength of the heavens to fight against his hold, but she never would—no one did. Her efforts to fight increased, but he held her in place, sweeping the water down her throat and soaking into her lungs, clogging any available air pathway; it was easy. Finally, her efforts began to subside as her face, which was first red in its powerful exertion turned blue slowly; he released her from his airbending hold, and she crumbled to her knees, body convulsing horrifically in effort to stay alive.

He finally relented and pulled the water out of her mouth, and she sputtered in hoarse gasps, coughing strenuously as her face slowly regained its health, depleting the deathly, blue pallor that had overtaken it. She collapsed on her back, chest wavering, body shivering, and her hands, even her deformed one, clutched at her swollen belly.

"Please," she croaked, eyes raw and traumatized, face soaked, exhausted, and beaten.

Aang crouched next to her, pitiless. "You know what I want. All you have to do is tell me where he is."

Her eyes swam with thick tears. "I cannot; I love him. You will kill him."

He almost drowned her again for daring proclaim that she loved Sozin, but he refrained; he knew how to solve the problem, and he knew Azula would admire his solution. "You have a choice to make. It will rip you apart, but you have to make it all the same. You love your husband, and you love your son. Whom do you choose?"

Shala blinked rapidly, incomprehension on her face. "What?"

"It's an easy choice to make," he continued. "One of them is here now. Whom do you choose? Your husband or your son?"

She glared at him with barren hatred, defiant even under threat. "I choose my son and husband—always."

Aang grit his teeth before he laughed slightly. "You don't think I'm capable of it," he whispered, understanding where her thoughts lied. "You don't think I'll kill you; you don't think I'll kill your son." Images of Ba Sing Se flashed through his mind, and he hissed to make them go away. "I've killed children before; I've killed pregnant women before. None of them deserved it at all, and I'm going to carry that crime—that intense sin that rips apart my soul—forever; I'm guilty forever. But you? I won't feel guilty for killing you; I won't feel guilty for killing your son, powerless to defend himself. I'm capable of it—I'm capable of anything."

He was an immortal now—he had to be!

Shala stared up at him before shuddering in grief. "He left days ago," she croaked. "I do not know where he is by now. He could be anywhere."

Aang felt confused about why Sozin left for so long, but he realized that she wasn't lying; she was telling the truth—or what she believed to be the truth. Because of it, he was still no closer to finding Sozin than when he started.

There was only one solution, no matter how horrible.

He placed a hand on top of her hands, one trembling and one dead, across her swollen belly and warmed his hand with powerful heat, notifying her of the imminent threat. "Scream," he demanded.

Her teary, exhausted eyes bulged. "Please- "

"Scream," Aang hissed and let the white flair of The Avatar State erupt in his eyes for a brief moment—otherwise, if he entered fully, he was certain he would kill her and destroy everything.

She screamed, and he let its shriek echo everywhere—and he intensified it with airbending, guiding its sound through the air out of the room and into the halls, going from hall to hall, room to room, alerting everyone in the palace that something horrible was happening.

Aang induced slumber too befall her after long moments, feeling she would become even more hysterical, and he sighed as the sudden silence consumed him as she embraced darkness, hands slipping away from her swollen belly. But he sensed the vibrations rush through the palace, coming toward him—the plan worked.

He prepared himself—manufactured the scene to look as horrible as possible, though it was already horrifying; he ripped open Shala's robes, exposing her breasts, and violently tore the pants, shredding them in certain parts near the center, suggesting rape, before he knelt over Shala's unmoving body and created a fire-dagger, holding it directly over the apex of her swollen belly. With his other hand, he caressed her swollen belly, pretending to find the perfect angle, but he paused as he felt Azulon's life therein; Azulon was clearly in prominent distress, heartbeat faster than he thought possible, feeling his mother's terror. Azulon kicked against the womb, against Aang's hand, trying to find his mother's soothing touch, but it wasn't anywhere to be found, which provoked more terror and fear—an even faster heartbeat.

He recalled his thoughts about killing Azulon to prevent him from becoming like Sozin—from becoming as he became in that damned, evil time. It was the perfect moment—the promising opportunity that would erase all his fears.

But he couldn't do it, and he felt no impulse to do it; he felt horrified—disgusted—by the thought. He kept the fire-dagger poised above, suggesting an act to drive it as deep as he could, but it was only for show—it was the performance of his life.

However, he tensed when Shala's body shuddered in her slumber, and Aang felt a moist sensation spread under his knees; he looked down and saw a stream of juice pooling out of Shala's sex, past her torn robes, and seeping to the floor, on which he knelt.

A dozen guards burst into the room before he could comprehend the fact that he had scared Shala into a premature labor.

They screamed over each other, voices rising in fury as they held flaming fists in prepared. "Step away from the Fire Lady!"

Aang raised his hands and backed away; he let the immediate swarm of flames slam into him, sending him crashing into the wall. But when no further attack happened, he knew his plan was successful.

He let himself be found about to murder Sozin's heir—in the most treasonous, unholy position by any Child of Fire—after having, clearly, injured and 'raped' the Fire Lady, who went into early labor due to the trauma she experienced.

Sozin would want to deal with him personally.

Aang smiled. "Take me to Sozin."

XxXxXxXxXxX

When Aang awoke from the powerful, unconsciousness-inducing blow, he found himself bound, naked, to metal all around his body in multiple sheets stretched across his limbs and chest, anchoring him in place. There was room for him to move around inside the sheets, but it was impossible to get out without bending; the metal straps anchored across his shoulders kept him from sliding or crawling out. He panicked at his tattoo of mastery being revealed, but he stopped himself. There was no need to panic; he was The Avatar, and he would deal with it. He had no idea where he was, but he wasn't concerned.

His only concern was Sozin.

He was alone in a dim, damp room underground; it appeared like a cavern, and he wondered if he was beneath the palace. He looked around and saw his noble robes—Roku's noble robes—thrown onto what looked like a large volcanic rock. Also scattered around were the scrolls detailing the layouts of the Air Temples. There was a red hue in the air, and he felt it was confirmation that he was beneath the Caldera, close to the volcano itself.

He tested the metal sheets by pressing his knees against it, but it was sturdy; it was a clever trap because firebending was an obvious solution. However, because of the tight space and thick metal, along with the awkward angle, it was clear that he would burn himself severely before he escaped with only firebending, particularly since he was naked. He was stuck as long as he allowed himself to be; it would be effortless to escape with metalbending, but he needed to wait until he saw Sozin. When he saw Sozin, he would reveal himself in glory, terrifying him to his spirit—before destroying him.

"Don't bother escaping," a man called out from the cavern's shadows. "You would only kill yourself from your own burns before you melted the metal. Even Agni himself would have trouble escaping from it."

Aang snorted as he remembered Agni's appearance. "He wouldn't."

The man walked into the dim light, and his jaw clenched when he realized is it was Daoron, Sozin's right-hand man who had tried to execute Rina. "Your blasphemy's as surprising as your appearance," Daoron said. "But your appearance is clearly the source of your blasphemy and crimes."

"Only you would think me saving someone from execution is a crime," he sneered in disgust.

Daoron's face flickered with his own sneer as he stepped closer; there was a living ire flashing in his eyes. "Your crime is your attack against the Fire Lady. Her hand is deformed forever now, and there is talk of amputating it to prevent a deadly infection. But worse—she's gone into labor due to the trauma of your attack; she's weeks early, and the baby is in the wrong position, feet-first rather than head-first. None of the doctors know if either will survive." Daoron gripped him by his hair, and smashed his head back against the metal, and Aang grunted in surprised pain. "That is for Fire Lady Shala," he hissed. "We found your wounds against her. Be thankful you didn't get to your plan to rape her, or I would jam a scalding poker into your anus."

Aang felt unimpressed and glanced past Daoron, expecting to see Sozin lingering in the darkness, but there was no one else; it was only him and Daoron. "When's your master going to come?"

"Yes, the guards said you wanted to see the Fire Lord," Daoron drawled. "But you will never know where he is—or perhaps you already know since you strike at us before we strike at your half-race, half-spawn."

"Did the tattoo give it away?" he asked, unsurprised; it was obvious to tell, after all.

"Everything about you gave it away," Daoron snapped, glaring at him with intelligence. "The only thing you inherited from us is your prolific firebending talents. You're of Air, too; I saw your tattoo, and you look just like them, too. You're a half-spawn. You're the one who saved Roku's daughter and, thus, prohibited me from taking part in Fire's ultimate victory as I searched for her. I was going to save her from the execution, unblock her chi, and manipulate her gratefulness to take me to the leaders of your rebellion, saying I hated the Fire Lord, and she would believe it. I would have crushed the rebellion, but you denied it to me! Now Roku's daughter is gone—because of you!"

Aang smiled. "You're never going to find her."

Daoron pulled a lever that Aang hadn't noticed, raising part of the metal sheet, giving Daoron a clear view of his naked body. However, the angle was too severe, even with his airbending, to slip out, particularly with the metal links cuffed around his wrist.

"I suspect you're right," Daoron agreed as his eyes roamed his naked body in disgusted intrigue. "Because you're unlike anyone I have ever encountered. I wondered if I would encounter you again after you freed Roku's daughter. I am glad to, but I hate the circumstances."

"Me too, but I don't regret a thing."

"I am now the highest-ranking official in the Fire Nation now as this is a time of military control and security with our Lord and Lady's absences," Daoron continued. "You intrigue me, and you're going to satisfy my inquires, alive and dead."

He felt no fear because he could escape at any time he wanted to, but he didn't like the cold glint in Daoron's eyes. "Meaning what? Where's Sozin? I want to see Sozin! Give me Sozin!"

"You will never see the Fire Lord- "

"That's not good enough!" he shouted, infuriated. "Is almost killing his wife and heir not enough to see him? Do I have to kill you to get his attention?"

Daoron laughed. "It's fascinating how you inherited all of Fire's inward traits, including your connection to Agni, and all of Air's outward traits."

"Where is he?"

"I'm going to do you a favor," Daoron said, voice light and reasonable, assured of his rightness. "You have committed a gross dishonor in Agni's sight, and you must repent. I will help you repent by experimenting on you, and your body will provide us with critical knowledge necessary for our progression. By doing so, you will redeem yourself of your blight and benefit Fire in the process. I'm certain the Fire Lord would agree with me. Your body is valuable."

Aang blinked, not understanding. Daoron clearly didn't know that he was The Avatar, or he would have killed him. To what did he refer? "My body?"

"Yes," he whispered, staring at him with furrowed brows. "Your chi is different; it works differently. I'm unsure it even classifies as a chi because my chi-blockers couldn't block your chi, and I couldn't block your chi, and I actually know how to do it, unlike my students—but now all my students are dead because of you."

"You can't know how to actually chi-block," he said. It didn't make sense! "Chi-blocking is an Air Nomad art!"

A sharp smile reflected in the light. "Who do you think taught me, half-spawn?"

"You're a liar!"

"No, I am a learner. I will be your body's student as I learn your body's secrets, how your chi is impervious. I tried to chi block you while you were unconscious, and I tried everything I knew, but nothing worked. I couldn't do anything to it. I didn't think it was possible to be immune from chi-blocks. By studying your body, I can learn the secrets to an invulnerable chi, as you clearly possess, and I will share the knowledge with the Fire Lord. And your invulnerable chi must be how you can brim with such power while looking so malnourished and sickly; you look like a corpse! How did you make your chi invulnerable?"

"You're not the chi-blocking master you think you are," Aang deflected. "You were doing it wrong—that's all."

"And you're unlike any half-spawn I have ever heard of or seen," Daoron continued, seeming not to have heard him. "By looking at you, you don't look like a half-spawn at all; you're one of the Arrowheads completely, no doubt. But you are a Firebender, and you can only be a Firebender by possessing Fire's blood, and your boldness, ferocity, and aggression are all hallmarks of Fire."

Aang smiled thinly. "You underestimate what Air is capable of."

A flash of rage crossed Daoron's face. "We never underestimate what Air is capable of; we know better than any of the races of Air's capacity for cruelty. Their avarice is legendary!"

"Avarice?" he echoed, voice rising in ire. "Avarice? My race is free! They are sublime and serene, unlike anyone else! They are wise and beautiful, unlike your wretched race!"

Daoron's face closed off; he looked finished talking as he closed the metal, trapping him more fully again, and held a heated hand to the outside. "Start talking," he intoned flatly with a disgusted undercurrent in his voice. "It will get hot quickly. Speak while you can."

Aang rolled his eyes. "You have to give to get; you have to get to give. Tell me where Sozin is, and I'll tell you anything you want."

The heat increased, and he flinched as it emanated all around him, beginning to cook him. "You hold no power here," Daoron condemned. "This isn't a negotiation, half-spawn; this is an interrogation. Where is this rebellion you're part of? Where is Roku's daughter?"

"In the Fire Nation, and I'm not lying."

Daoron snarled. "I will break your bones until you tell me the names leading this little rebellion."

Aang recalled Rina's words about the rebellion and smiled. "This has nothing to do with any rebellion; this is all me."

"All lies- "

He craned his neck forward with a snarl. "Look into my eyes and tell me if I'm lying. I traveled from the eastern coast of the continent to the western coast, and I sailed into the Fire Nation, stowing away on a pirate's ship. Then I traveled from island to island, stopping to save Roku's daughter from execution, until I reached the Caldera. Then I went to the palace, killed many guards, threatened Princess Li and Princess Lo, and attacked the Fire Lady, inducing her into an early labor with Fire's long-awaited-for heir. That is what happened. It's all me. I traveled across the world to strike at Sozin—just me. Now tell me if I'm lying."

Daoron looked unsettled before his face cleared. "It is not my place to judge you upon what I don't know; Agni will judge you- "

"I don't care about Agni," he snapped. "I want Sozin! Where's Sozin?"

"Avenging us against your half-race," Daoron replied with a snort of amusement as the heat increased steadily, and Aang panted in response with sweat pouring down his face. "Perhaps you will die the same time as them."

Aang almost ripped himself out of the restraints in fury but refrained. "Avenging yourselves?" he scoffed. "That's how you justify it? You're pathetic."

Daoron sneered, and Aang gasped as the heat increased, beginning to burn his flesh from where the metal connected, and he wiggled and changed positions sporadically to bring himself relief. "Pathetic? Air is pathetic! Your half-race enslaved us, but they became enslaved to enslaving us! They began to rely on enslaving us! When the time came to stop the enslavement because it was excessive and cruel, they only increased the enslavement!"

He wanted to kill Daoron desperately, but he needed to know Sozin's location first. "I'll tell you anything about the world, even how it came to be, if you tell me where Sozin is! I'll take you to the Immortal Realm if you want! I'll give you the Dragon's Throne!"

Based on the disgust on Daoron's face, he clearly perceived his offer as the ravings of a madman near death, willing to offer anything for a reprieve from the pain. "I would never betray the Fire Lord. Fire knows nothing of betrayal like Air does! Air's essence is betrayal!"

"It is you who betrays the balance of the world!" he snarled, feeling more heat from his fury than the searing metal enveloping him. "You betray the peace that- "

"We offered Air peace, and they spit on it! We wanted the slavery to end, and they refused!"

Aang's rage reached such heights that he couldn't speak for several long moments, mouth opening and closing, strange sounds erupting past his lips; it was only the knowledge that Daoron would die instantly, depriving him the knowledge of Sozin's location, that prevented him from slipping into The Avatar State. He hissed through his teeth. "Be warned—you have until I start to feel my tattoo of mastery begin to be damaged. Once that happens, I'm going to break out of here, and I'm going to rip the answers I seek out of your soul."

Daoron's hand dropped from the metal, interrupting the steady rise in heat boiling him inside. At first, Aang thought his warning acted as a threat that terrified Daoron into stopping the torture, but the look on his face was one of sudden confusion rather than dread. "You're a Firebender," he whispered, brows furrowing. "Yet, you hold Air's tattoo patterns. Why? How?"

Aang smiled tightly, knowing that Daoron could possibly put the truth together. "Half-spawn."

Daoron opened the metal sheet slightly, peering at his naked body, eyes roaming his sweaty, reddened limbs, on which his tattoo of mastery gleamed with presence. "No, no. This is more; this is deeper. I have studied Air. Only a master is granted the honor of the tattoo. You are clearly a Master Firebender, but only a Master Airbender obtains the tattoo, and you couldn't have decorated yourself—done it yourself to fool people. Only those of Air—only those masters in the skies—know the ritualized process, how to implement it, and how to heal it, and you look exactly like an Arrowhead. Air gave you your tattoo, and you are clearly of their race, but you are not a Master Airbender. Why?"

He gave up and inched his head forward, seeing the painful, impossible suspicion on Daoron's face. "Go on," he encouraged, finding a gleeful satisfaction at the terror filling Daoron's eyes slowly. "Say it. It's okay—say it."

Daoron's heart and breathing stopped—Aang felt it happen—for several moments before each picked up again with shallow intensity; terror had chilled both of their passion and strength as Daoron shuddered, eyes bulging as he stumbled away. "Avatar," he breathed, panic stretching his face with horror. "It's you."

Aang freed himself from the metal trap with a jerk of his head, which crumpled instantly into a tight ball, which he dropped to the floor. However, when he stepped forward, Daoron lashed out with sloppy movements, every move made in desperation and frantic urgency. Aang buried him in the ground immediately, leaving only his head, and smiled in grim amusement. "Where's Sozin?" he demanded.

When Daoron looked deprived of utterance, too stricken by his horror, Aang freed him; Daoron collapsed to his knees instantly, incapable of standing, astonished and in disbelief—but terrified. "You can't be here," Daoron whispered, trembling. "It can't be you. You're a man; you should be a boy!"

He crouched in front of him. "I'm not like you," he whispered back. "You have no idea what it means to be me; you have no idea what I can do; you have no idea of the power dwelling within me. I've killed Agni like it was nothing, and I'm going to do it again. Think about it—what or whom you worship as Power was insignificant next to me when I wanted him to be insignificant next to me."

Daoron's eyes were hazy. "No," he croaked. "I can't."

Aang grit his teeth. "I know who you are. You think I won't go after your family? You think I won't write history to ruin your reputation and name forever? I'm capable of anything. Don't test me, Daoron. You have a chance to do the right thing finally. All you have to do is tell me where Sozin is. He'll be too dead to know that you ever betrayed him."

Something flashed across Daoron's face—a solemn acceptance. "No, I'll be too dead to betray him."

Before Aang's stunned eyes, Daoron jammed a fire-dagger into his own throat and wrenched it to the side, sliding through flesh, pouring a gush of blood onto the stone. A horrific gurgling sound emanated from Daoron's blood-stained lips as he instinctively struggled for breath, body convulsing, arching in several places as he collapsed back sporadically, seeming stunned.

Aang pulled the sweat off his body, hoping it would be enough as he tried to heal Daoron of his mortal wound with waterbending, but it only slowed the process. "No!" he screamed, trying harder to save Daoron's life—he needed the knowledge! "Where's Sozin? Tell me!"

Daoron's breathing wavered. "Ave-avenging us," he croaked in boast, golden eyes beginning to dim. "The Great Comet… is upon us."

Aang felt a terror he had believed he would never experience again as he gasped; he gripped Daoron's shoulders. "Tell me now! When's the Great Comet? How long?"

Daoron was clearly content to die to spite him, leaving him in maddening ignorance, saying nothing.

Something snapped inside him; the frantic urgency and hysteria was too much as he clutched Daoron by his head, almost ripping it off from the thin flesh remaining that connected his head to his shoulders, making their eyes lock onto each other. "I'll murder your whole family!" he threatened, voice a roar of promise. "I'll ruin them forever! I'll rape your wife and mutilate your children! You know I will! How long until the Great Comet?"

"Fi- five."

He leaned closer, trying to hear Daoron's words. "Five what? Five weeks?"

"D- d- da- days."

Aang watched, unseeing, as Daoron expired between his hands, stricken by horror. He had failed—he had miscalculated! He thought he had three months in total to save his race and kill Sozin when he actually only possessed five weeks! The terror broke his spirit, and he began to weep as he rushed out, breaking through the volcano with erratic, powerful movements of his hysterical limbs. Once he burst through a street in the Caldera, he heard people scream around him in surprise and fear, but he didn't care.

He ran and ran, using his airbending, pushing himself to run faster than he ever ran, making his surroundings an incomprehensible blur to his perception, and he left a trail of destructive wind behind him until he reached the ocean swiftly—he kept running!

He had to make it!

XxXxXxXxXxX

Aang realized quickly into his journey that he was naked, having forgotten to dress himself in his panic to save his race—he had five days to get from the Fire Nation on foot to the South, find the Boy, and return to the Southern Temple to save those he could! His nudity didn't matter; only his race mattered! But how could he choose which of his race mattered because he had to make a choice with such limited, evil time! He couldn't save all the temples—it was clear! There was time to only save one, and he had to choose the Southern Temple—it was his home! It was where Gyatso was!

Why was he so stupid and pathetic? Why did he decide to hunt down Sozin first, traveling across the continent and into the Fire Nation rather than immediately going to the Eastern Temple, the closest Air Temple? Of course, he knew why—to stop the threat before it became a threat. But if he had known his true deadline, he would have never focused on killing Sozin first; he would have focused on saving his race first.

Right?

It had crossed his mind to go back to the Tree and redo his decision, more prepared to deal with his undertaking, but how would he change what he had done? How could he trim time off his long journey? How could he make things go right when everything seemed to go wrong?

He had already traveled as quick as he could, stopping minimally; he could choose not to stop and save Rina from execution, letting her deal with it herself, buying himself at least half a day of time, but there was nothing else to help him! He wouldn't need to try to hunt down information as to Sozin's location because he knew where he would be—but he actually didn't! Would Sozin actually lead the assault against one of the Air Temples? Or would he stay back like a coward, ordering from afar? Either way, he would never know specifically Sozin's location, no matter what he did—unless he happened to run into him unintentionally. The only option to trim time was to travel to the Eastern Temple first and tell them to evacuate, but he had no idea if they would believe him! But if he went to the Eastern Temple, he could take one of the sky bison to travel faster and try to save the Eastern and Southern Temples, saving two rather than one. But if he stole one of the sky bison, the nuns might attack him—they were so protective of the sky bison, after all! It was why he had wanted to find Gyatso and get Gyatso's help to make the others see the truth.

He knew how the Elders could be stubborn; they felt safe and secure in the Air Temples—he didn't blame them because he himself had always thought them untouchable and impenetrable—dismissive of any attacks against their homes.

But how could he convince the Elders now? They would probably think him insane!

Maybe if he went to the Tree and decided to redo it, going back earlier, like an actual three months before Sozin's Comet, he could save his race—but it would be abandoning his race all over again to do that! It would be him failing them after he had vowed not to do so! He had already committed himself to doing it right now, to doing it without failing again! If anything, he could wait until the last moment before going back to the Tree and doing it again. He needed to see Gyatso, at least first! He needed to punish himself for his failure by living through the Attack, even if he stopped a quarter of it by defending the Southern Temple!

By seeing the Attack for himself with his own eyes and living it, he would be better prepared—and more motivated, if it was even possible—by feeling and sensing Air's murder as it happened to do things right the second—third—time around. And by stopping the assault against the Southern Temple would give him momentum to go back all over again and stop the Attack fully and utterly! He would restructure his time! He would replan everything! He wouldn't waste a single moment—not a moment!

Aang ran faster across the ocean, nothing but water around him in all directions, drawing upon his endless energy that didn't feel so endless anymore, using airbending and waterbending. The day shifted into night, but he kept running, no matter the cold or darkness, unsure if he was running in the right direction—he kept running! He had to make it! Even when he felt the chains of exhaustion, he ripped them off and invigorated himself with the thoughts of Air's murder.

Day returned swiftly, and the vast expanse of the ocean continued, stretching forever, and he had no idea how much headway he had accomplished—but he kept running, never stopping, not even for a moment, no matter how hungry or thirsty he felt, no matter how his body felt like it might break under the strain he placed it under, no matter how insistently he felt the instinct to close his eyes and sink into the ocean's depths for a brief rest.

None of it mattered—only his race mattered!

Pushing himself, he felt a burst of inspiration and propelled himself even faster with plumes of fire erupting out of his hands, rocketing him forward with even more speed; the only element he didn't use to help himself with his journey to increase his pace was earth.

It needed to be enough.

XxXxXxXxXxX

When he reached the South later the same day, he felt near his death; he knew he was in deep trouble based on how cold he felt, shivering and gasping for breath. Normally, he hardly ever felt cold, even at the deepest, darkest points in the North or South; his physiology being born of Air, living in the freezing skies, ensured he was never cold. However, his body was failing him, and his nudity wasn't helping; he trembled all over, and each step he took across the icy waters threatened to drain him of whatever minimal strength he had remaining.

His non-stop pace, even before he returned to his right time when he searched tirelessly for Azula's spirit, was catching up to him—at the worst possible moment!

Aang cursed and cursed but dedicated himself to continuing, regardless; he had to try—try! He searched the depths for the Iceberg, scouring the ocean for his younger self; he was at the exact location where the Iceberg should be. But there was no sign of it, even when he dared take the plunge into the strength-depleting waters with its frigid dangers and looked for its glow with his own eyes, even traveling to the bottom of the ocean.

Three days remained until Sozin's Comet, but the Iceberg was nowhere to be found. He felt hysterical and disturbed simultaneously—how close had he been to Sozin's Comet the first time when he, the stupid, weak boy he was, fled from the Southern Temple? But it couldn't have been so close! Right? Based on his calculations, which he had formulated after the Great War and much thought, Sozin's Comet appeared three months after he learned he was The Avatar; he ran away a month after learning his identity as The Avatar, which meant that he missed Sozin's Comet by two months the first time, asleep in the ocean. However, nothing was as it seemed—because there were only days until Sozin's Comet returned, not many weeks like he thought he had remaining!

He had clearly miscalculated, but he didn't know how! What did he have wrong? What happened? How was he so disturbingly wrong about the dates and range of time?

Suddenly, something occurred to him, for it was the only thing that made sense—Sozin's Comet must not have come on the same day a century previously; it must have appeared a century later, give or take a few months. It was the only explanation! He had thought he missed the Attack under Sozin's Comet by two months based on his memory of when he abandoned his race versus when Sozin's Comet returned in the damned, evil time, but what if the Sozin's Comet had a range of dates on which it could return, not a single, fixed date?

He swallowed as he realized that, likely, if he had stayed a few days longer rather than running away, he could have saved the Southern Temple.

But there was possibly another explanation, though much less likely—the storm never appeared that drew him into the ocean's depths for a century's sleep. Maybe him going back using the Tree had changed things minutely, which meant that the Boy was somewhere, anywhere in the world.

Aang cursed as he realized everything was so much more complicated than he ever thought!

He clearly wouldn't be able to find the Boy now, but he needed knowledge to facilitate him finding the Boy; he knew he needed to enter the South and ask around, even if only for a few minutes, to see if the Boy had been seen flying around or had asked for directions—anything!

He needed to have an idea, at least—he needed to know where the Boy was because the Boy, no matter how much he hated it, was himself!

Aang set off for the city, visible across the flat expanse of the pole in the far distance, but when he reached the frozen tundra, wild with ferocity, he felt like he could barely move. The cold sapped his strength with painful precision, and he panicked—he couldn't fail when everything mattered going forward! He had to find the Boy and get to the Southern Temple to save Gyatso and the people there!

But his body rebelled against—failed—him.

He staggered forward as long as he could before he crashed into the snow, body not following his mind's commands; he breathed fire from his lips to warm himself up, but it did little to help him as his teeth chattered; he hated it! But his months-long restless pace had caught up to him, unfortunately. Seeing no other option, he considered tapping into The Avatar State, letting its power and rejuvenation wash over him, but he feared that if he did, he would return to the Tree, which would certify his failure!

No—never! He couldn't fail! He had to stop the Attack on the Southern Temple! Then he could come back to stop the rest! He would do it!

The hatred rose within him like a flood of the world, and he felt refreshed as his body became invigorated, relieved of its crippling exhaustion. He basked in it for several moments, imagining briefly the warnings of his predecessors, all of whom would surely beg him to stop what he was doing.

He had the courage to do what they never could.

Aang stood to his feet and resumed his journey, stride stronger and more certain—he felt so much better, though he knew he still looked awful physically. However, when he approached the city, he found two Water Tribesmen coming out to meet him, alone.

"I told you!" a voice reached him, and he watched as two heavily, thickly coated Water Tribesmen appeared out of the snow's heavy mist. "Look at this! He's so pale he blends into the snow! But I thought I saw something! What'd I say? I told you someone was out here! And look who it is—one of those Air cunts!"

He frowned in displeasure; he was sick of hearing insults about his race, worse than he ever imagined possible in his right time. "I'm willing to overlook your insults if you can help me. I'm looking for a young Airbender- "

Disgusted indignation crossed their faces. "Probably to kill him, right? That's all you cunts do—destroy the Family, depleting its strength!"

Aang stared at them, having no idea what they were talking about, least of all why they would accuse him of looking to kill his younger self—no matter how tempting the idea was. "I don't have time for this!" he snapped. "Lives are at stake—so many lives! Have you seen a- "

"That's fucking rich!" one snarled, stepping forward. "An Arrowhead telling us about lives being at stake! You're the ones sitting in your temples in the skies, not giving a polardog shit about anyone's lives! I'm thinking we put your life at stake now to make it even!"

"We could always kill him, ice his body, and eat him like the animal he is if our food supply gets low," the other offered with a disturbing amount of enthusiastic optimism.

"Are you serious?" Aang demanded, glaring at the Water Tribesmen.

One scoffed, gesturing down, looking directly at his visible penis. "Are you serious? I've seen a baby with a bigger penis than you have!"

The other glanced at his friend, intrigued. "Which baby?"

"Turnork."

"You sure it wasn't a turd hanging out his ass? He goes everywhere—but what can I say? I like him."

"It wasn't a turd; it was his penis. I know a penis when I see one—I have one!"

Aang reckoned that Sokka was clearly related to the two Water Tribesmen. "I need help- "

"You need a new penis!" the man hollered, looking beside himself with amusement. "It looks like it's about to fall off! Serves your kind right. I wish it happened to all you fucking monks. You already act like women with your polardog shit pacifism—might as well help make it official!"

The other elbowed him. "It's cold, and he's naked as a baby. What do you think it's supposed to look like out here? He looks like he's been out here for days."

"Why would he come here naked like this?"

"He's an Arrowhead—that's why. He's insane like they all are."

"They're something else," the first muttered, glaring at him with venom in his eyes.

Aang shook his head. "Have you seen a young Airbender on a sky bison fly through here?" He held a hand to his chest. "He's about this tall; he's bald and beardless, unlike me."

"If we saw him, we'd kill him—like we're about to kill you."

The other sighed, looking disgruntled. "Or just leave him to the cold—he deserves a slow death."

"He doesn't look like he's capable of it."

Aang had enough and tried to walk past them, but they reacted violently, one with waterbending, and the other with his sharpened spear. He lashed out, irritated and short-for-time, and killed them quickly and dressed himself in the available furs and parkas to blend in more—and show hospitality. He buried their bodies under large heaps of snow, making them part of the frigid, wild tundra.

Part of the 'Family,' he supposed.

He ran until he reached the tribe's entrance, but several guards—or lookouts—pointed spears at him with threatening insistence before he could go farther; he could easily pass them, but he didn't want to cause a scene—not yet.

"Who are you?" the leading guard demanded.

Aang held up his hands peacefully. "I'm a traveler passing through. All I want to know is if a young Air Nomad was seen passing through on a sky bison?"

Their eyes latched onto his evidently tattooed hands. "We haven't seen any Arrowheads except for you," one countered, glaring at him with suspicion.

"Air Nomads," he corrected through grit teeth. "We are Air Nomads."

One snickered with a leer. "Sounds like he's a Care Nomad, caring what people call him and his stupid race. You sure you're not actually a nun, Care Nomad? You're acting awfully like a woman."

"But he's tall and has a beard- "

"Could be a fake beard. I don't know about the height, though. Not sure about the hair, either. I thought Arrowheads were bald."

Aang wondered in painful disbelief how Sozin had accomplished such unholy precision in spreading the evil lies about Air, reaching even the South. "Please," he beseeched, trying to control his frayed temper. "I don't have much time. I need to find this boy."

"Find him yourself," one of the Water Tribesmen dismissed, looking finished with the conversation.

He gave up and thought of the only thing that could make people help him. "I need to speak with your chief. Take me to him."

One of them frowned. "The Chief is busy."

"I'm a unique case," Aang stressed, knowing he had to give some kind of knowledge to get them to let him pass—he didn't want to make a scene. He needed their help to know if the Boy had come through. "Something's coming, and I need to warn him."

Suddenly, he had their attention—as expected. "What's coming?"

"Dark clouds are on the horizon," he said vaguely. "Dark days lie ahead—maybe dark years. I need to talk to him. I'm on a mission for Air's High Council."

One of them gestured for him to follow him. "This way. The Chief will decide whether to believe you or not."

Aang walked through the village, one man in front of him and the other behind him. He observed the faces of those who stared at him and felt their confusion at his appearance; he was taller than everyone else, but no one understood why because they couldn't tell he was an Air Nomad due to his beard and the fact none of his tattoos were visible. The distance and imprecise visual of his appearance as he walked quickly, shadowing his face in the furs, helped. He passed various huts, and the journey was a lot longer; the South was much, much larger than when he had seen it in the damned, evil time.

"Who is this?" a man questioned they stopped at the largest icehouse in the tribe.

"I have a message for your chief," Aang cut in. "I'm on a mission sent by the High Council. Please let me in. I don't exaggerate when I tell you many lives are at stake."

The men parted before them, and Aang entered and saw a young, broad man with a thin, patchy beard sitting down in a chair to the side, reading what looked like a report of some kind; he looked like a typical Water Tribesman, but he was large, indeed, though his face was shockingly youthful; he looked only a little older than Aang himself.

Around Sokka's age.

"Chief Kuhna," his escort greeted, kneeling in respect; Aang remained standing. "This one's an Arrowhead sent by Air's High Council to speak with you; he has warnings to divulge—allegedly. We decided to leave him to your judgment."

Chief Kuhna glowered at Aang with distrust before a soft sigh escaped him. "Very well, Arrowhead." He waved out Aang's escorts, who exited swiftly. "What do your Elders want?"

Aang nodded his head in respect, gathering precious moments to think of what to say. "Thank you, Chief Kuhna, for granting me an audience- "

"You have good manners for an Arrowhead," Chief Kuhna drawled, unimpressed, despite the seeming praise. "It makes me distrust you even more. Everyone knows that an Arrowhead isn't kind. The fact you're being kind rather than indulging in your cruel, deceitful nature means you want something outrageous and must charm me to give you said something."

He blinked in shock. "Cruel and deceitful nature?" he echoed, horrified and infuriated. "How did Sozin get you to believe that?"

One of Chief Kuhna's brows rose. "The Fire Lord? What does he have to do with this?"

"Everything! You're reciting his lies like you're a child!"

"Lies?"

"About my race!"

Chief Kuhna laughed. "No lies, Arrowhead; it's the truth. Are your ears not your ears? Are your eyes not your eyes? Can you not understand everything that goes on?"

"I understand that Sozin has filled your head with lies! Stop believing his lies, you damned fool!"

"The Fire Lord has nothing to do with this!" Chief Kuhna snapped, eyes narrowing. "I don't know what your grievances are with the Fire Lord, but these are our grievances with your kind, Arrowhead—from us because of you. This is us and our judgment. It's no one else. No one, least of all the Fire Lord, has come here and enticed us with gold to recite lies about Air; we do this of our own accord. The Fire Lord could offer us his entire race's riches to not say the truth about the Arrowheads, but we would deny him! We hate your race, Arrowhead! You shit on our beliefs and threaten the world by plundering everyone's most vital essence—Family."

Aang swallowed, astonished. "Sozin didn't trick you?"

"Of course, you think we are children who can't form our own opinions and judgments," he drawled, sneering slightly. "You're a true Arrowhead, Arrowhead. And now you must enlighten us, right? You must raise us out of our 'primitive' understandings, right? All so you can make everyone just like you, making the world as unremarkable and gray as your eyes."

He barely heard him over the roar ringing in his ears, provided by his heart. How could Water hate Air without provocation by Sozin? How could Water think such terribly things about his race without Sozin's interference with lies that shouldn't ever be uttered, nonetheless conceived? How could Water hold a searing hostility against Air, mocking their beliefs, and deriding them as enslaved paternalists? How did Sozin do it—all without alerting Water of his subversive destruction, as all subversions were? But what if it wasn't Sozin, as Chief Kuhna proclaimed? What if Chief Kuhna knew what he was talking about, having a keen understanding of Water and what they believed and thought, doing his due diligence in reflecting those ideals, especially as Chief? What if Water hated Air because they actually hated Air, not due to Sozin's indoctrination? But why would they hate Air? Why would they hate the greatest race in the history of the world? Why would they hate the only race who mattered? What if they had reasons for hating his race?

He almost collapsed at the impossibility before his righteous denial reminded him of the truth. No, Chief Kuhna was wrong! Chief Kuhna didn't know what he was talking about! It was Sozin—Sozin! Sozin infiltrated Water's culture with his devious agents and supplanted Water's positive relationship with Air for one of contempt and distrust, facilitated by vicious deceptions propagated by targeting Water's insistence on Family!

It was so obvious! It was the only—the only!—explanation!

Aang looked at Chief Kuhna, prepared to respond with a verbal violence that could drown the world, but he felt his words die on his tongue, which became heavy and hot. There was something different on Chief Kuhna's face—a calmed assurance. There didn't even seem to be anger or judgment! It was the serenity of an observer, who lacked the intimacy of ferocity but filled the void with indisputable objectivity. Chief Kuhna clearly spoke not out of emotion; he spoke out of experience. Chief Kuhna spoke not from what he felt but from what he had seen or heard by those who had seen.

He floundered for words, trying desperately to think of something—anything!—but he drowned in his impotence, standing, stricken, in silence.

The silence became awkward—it was painful!—until Chief Kuhna leaned back in his chair, face impassive. "Who gave you our furs to wear?"

Aang's tongue recalled its essence as he echoed a name dropped earlier. "Turnork."

Chief Kuhna looked satisfied but disgruntled. "He's always been trouble. It figures he'd let one of your kind in here. So, what do you want, Arrowhead?"

His jaw clenched. "I've treated you with respect, and I would appreciate the same."

"You didn't tell me your name. What do you expect?"

"You didn't ask," Aang pointed out, words sharp. "Courtesy dictates that the host seeks a guest's name- "

"You're not a guest," Chief Kuhna interrupted, words equally sharp. "You hold manners for an Arrowhead, but don't pretend you understand manners; you simply recite them. You're not a guest; you're an intruder. I don't care what your name is; I care that you're here, in my territory, in my home, infringing on Water's Family."

He inhaled slowly, trying to calm himself; he was failing evidently based on the heavy weight in the air, which he knew Chief Kuhna was aware of. "Friends know each other's names," he said, words soft but insistent. "Air's all about friendship, Chief Kuhna." He ignored Chief Kuhna's derisive scoff and smiled with tight lips. "We can be friends now—as we should be."

Silence.

"What's your name?"

"Gyatso," Aang answered, finding a peace in using his mentor's name. It was the only solace he felt in the moment; the memory of his mentor, feeling his presence in using his name, might have been the only thing that prevented him from killing Chief Kuhna.

Chief Kuhna smiled unpleasantly. "Well, Gyatso, what do you want? Why are you here?"

Aang swallowed, remembering his true purpose; he was on limited time. "I was looking to see if any of your tribe had seen a young Air Nomad pass through here on his sky bison." He held his hand to a point on his chest. "He's this tall, and he's bald, unlike me; he just turned twelve weeks ago; he'd also be wearing colored garbs." Something hysterical swept through him born of a haunting grief. "He wants to go penguin-sledding."

"I've heard nothing about any sighting of a sky bison," Chief Kuhna said after several moments. "If one was spotted, everyone would be on high alert; we would go hunting."

"I see," he whispered, forlorn, realizing that he had likely missed the Boy. It seemed clear to him that the storm never happened, which meant the Boy could be anywhere in the world, especially on Appa.

Or was the Boy still on his way to the South?

"What else is there?" Chief Kuhna asked. "Everyone knows the Arrowheads would never care about a single boy. Why else is there? Why else are you here, Gyatso?"

Aang's jaw clenched and thought of a viable reason within moments. "There's been interest at the Southern Temple to trade with your tribe."

Chief Kuhna's eyebrows rose. "Your oh-so-spiritual Elders have finally decided to rid themselves of their foul and foolish isolation? The wisdom they think they hold should let them know better than to come to me for trade."

"They hoped that you would be interested."

"Why do you need to trade? Your race has never needed it before with us."

"Times are changing," he said carefully. "The Elders fear that something is coming—something disastrous."

Chief Kuhna leaned forward, intrigued. "Speak plainly, Gyatso. What do they fear?"

Aang decided to be honest because he remembered the Elders speaking of darkness coming. "They fear a war is coming, one that will envelop the Four Nations. Dark days lie ahead—dark years, even."

"How do you know?"

"Dreams," he said vaguely. "There's a feeling in the wind."

"The Avatar will stop it," Chief Kuhna dismissed as he sat back, losing interest. "Your Elders have nothing to fear. There will be no war with The Avatar nearing his maturity, especially since he has been borne of your race in this lifetime of his."

"They fear it will happen before the new Avatar is of age. It's a Great War."

Silence.

Chief Kuhna's eyes burst with resentment as he laughed suddenly, but it wasn't a pleasant sound; it was dark and bitter. "Of course—of course! How long have you known?"

He recalled everything he knew about the elders. "Several months- "

"And you've done nothing to avert the world from falling into woe and darkness until now, when it might be too late!" Chief Kuhna accused, pounding his fist on his chair's arm, cracking it; his face was livid with disgust. "It's more than infuriating—your kind moves like the wind and more but never acts in haste! You've never loved anyone in your lives! You've warned no one of what's coming, showing that you hate the world and everyone in it—because you want everyone to be like you rather than we be ourselves! You want this Great War to happen, don't you? You want everyone to be wiped out? That's why you haven't warned anyone of the knowledge you clearly possessed beforehand? You wait until the last moment—to what? To console your conscience? But it's not like you have ethics. We know all about your rituals and beliefs down here—we've known since Kuruk when you committed an audacious crime that enraged him so terribly it was only his predecessor, Yangchen, that spared Air his wrath! Your race has never done anything for any of the other races, Gyatso, but cut us down and try to diminish us! You've let us suffer for countless generations while you've sat in your temples in the sky, contributing to our suffering! I hope this new war rids the world of your stench, for it will finally be the hardship you have never known as we have!"

Aang almost killed Chief Kuhna—Sokka and Katara's ancestor without his heir—instantly for voicing Air's fate, but he refrained—barely—as he grit his teeth and turned around. "You've wasted my time," he snapped as he approached the exit. "I'll find the Boy on my own."

"Why the interest in a single boy?" Chief Kuhna demanded before he exited the tent.

Aang paused. "Air doesn't leave their own," he said vaguely. "He's lost, and I need to find him; I need to save him."

For some reason, a flush of hatred ignited Chief Kuhna's face. "Typical!" he sneered. "You're the most unwise fools to ever walk this world!"

"Nothing is unwise about Air!" Aang hissed. "The only fool is you- "

"No, the only fool is you, Gyatso! You're a fool with all of Air's pride! Water values the blood and meat of animals; we sink our teeth into its substance and draw strength from it." Chief Kuhna stared into his eyes with fury. "Air is cowardly and weak; you would rather allow a beast to desecrate your homes and bodies than kill it. You're no warriors; this new war you fear, you won't fight it; you will ignore it because you don't believe in survival or fighting, enslaved to the weakness of absurd pacifism. You're selfish beyond all! You claim no attachments, so you would rather let friends and families die than save their lives; you would rather not raise a hand to fight and let your attacker kill you than survive. Water loves children and values them above all, understanding their miraculous natures; they are precious beyond compare, a blessed gift that you shit on! You don't even know who your parents are because you steal babies from their mothers' bosoms!" Chief Kuhna stomped toward him, face like a storm. "Child-stealers! Child-slayers!"

Aang scoffed in disgust; it was greater than his fury—for now. "You're pathetic- "

"You're monsters!"

"Because of what?" he demanded. "Does Sozin actually give you the lie above all lies because you're too stupid to see the truth?"

Chief Kuhna's fists clenched at his sides; animosity shone in his brilliant eyes as the snow shuddered beneath their feet. "The Fire Lord has nothing to do with this, least of all with our hatred for your wretched race. The day you die is the day Evil dies!"

Aang blew Chief Kuhna back with a violent explosion of wind. "You will join Evil when he dies!" he howled, preparing to kill him and hunt down Sozin and kill him! Sozin had poisoned Chief Kuhna and Water—Sozin had poisoned the entire world against Air!

Chief Kuhna slowly picked himself up to his feet with a derisive laugh. "I see you've finally gotten rid of that weak pacifism—if only you got rid of yourselves while you were at it!" His face darkened like the ocean's depths. "But you already do, Gyatso! You get rid of yourselves with every baby born who doesn't meet your cruel satisfaction!"

He sneered, finally realizing how Sozin accomplished turning Water against Air. "So, that's how Sozin did it. He told you we commit infanticide, and you're stupid enough to believe it."

"You pitched Avatar Kuruk's children borne by the nuns of the Air Temples into the valleys below! You let them plummet to their deaths—because you threw them down there!"

Silence.

Aang staggered back and almost fell to his knees in horror when he felt Kuruk confirm the accusation inside him; he shook his head, choking on successive gasps as the words floated in the air. "No," he croaked in disbelief; all his hatred was gone, swallowed by the rising hysteria as Kuruk's confirmation was overwhelming.

It wasn't true—it couldn't be true!

Chief Kuhna was merciless, slowly approaching, intensifying the pressure. "Murderers," he hissed. "You're all murderers—you're born of the greatest murderers to ever walk this world, Gyatso. Murder's in your blood—you made sure of it by murdering all the babies who didn't have murder in their blood! Air's all murderers!"

The world wavered around him, colors swirling, head ringing like a concussive eruption had happened—because of Chief Kuhna's words. "You're lying," Aang whispered, not recognizing how his voice sounded; it sounded faint and broken.

It sounded like a boy's voice.

"Search your records and hear the tales! Kuruk never used his airbending again after he learned the truth! He avoided you cunts like you were Death!" Chief Kuhna's teeth glinted in the dim light. "Don't look so astonished, you damned fool! You know full and well what happens when a non-bending child is born amongst your race, Gyatso!"

"All Airbenders are Airbenders," he responded, gasping, breathing coming in harsh pants. "There are no non-benders born to us."

Chief Kuhna sneered with a dark laugh. "You're all the same—born liars! We've always said the Arrowheads are the ultimate liars, and look at you! You've lied to yourself so convincingly that you forgot about the truth. You pitch your non-bending babies off the ledges of your Air Temples—as you've done for thousands of years!"

"No." His voice was far away; it sounded hazy and distant, diminishing in the rising darkness in his mind and heart. "All children are Airbenders."

"They say that they are—they've always said it! But it's all lies—because that's all you know! You know nothing about truth!" Chief Kuhna spat, lips curling in disgust. "How do you think it happened, Gyatso? Be fucking honest for once in your miserable existence! Your elders examine every newborn born to your race, and they search for the bending energy, and everyone knows that Arrowheads are the best at sensing bending energy. That's how you got so good at sensing bending energy—to carry out your depraved desires on the innocent babies born of your race and disposing the non-benders to justify your unnatural natures! Your elders make no mistakes! They're meticulous in examining newborns, and they kill all non-benders born! They do it to perfect themselves—to eradicate all the bloodlines with non-benders across Air's race! Or if the baby is a half-spawn, the elders pitch him off—and intensify the winds to make the defenseless baby fall faster before crashing in a spray of gore! It's what Kuruk said!"

Aang felt numb—he felt near death, though his body felt powerful and vigorous. For the first time since he returned to his right time, he was gripped by a paralyzing confusion, born of agonizing incomprehension, that settled in his mind, which screamed and raved in frantic hysteria. He could only think about his insistence on the half-spawn abominations he would have sired in that damned, evil time as the Father of Air, for those half-spawns, though he would love them as they would be his children, would be weak and imperfect, worthless to the core, a slight to his soul and good judgment. He thought he had it all figured out. Part of the reason—many reasons—he returned to his right time was to prevent his race from being sullied by the imperfect, offensive, insulting, degenerate half-spawns he would have replaced them with, preventing those half-spawns from living and tarnishing Air's perfection and beauty.

But maybe his race had already been preventing those half-spawn abominations from living.

But were they abominations? What if they weren't? What if they were good, beautiful, and necessary? Why would his race kill so much of each other? Why would they kill Kuruk's children he sired by the nuns? Clearly, they hated the thought of half-spawns as much as Aang did, but the source was different.

He had only felt such desperation and conviction because his race was slaughtered and deteriorating toward extinction with each day that passed without another Airbender in the world; he had only felt that way because he felt he had no other choice! How could he love his half-spawned children when they were not fully, completely, utterly Air like he was, least of all if their other half was descended from Sozin? He wanted to spare his children from ever having such a fate, which is why he wanted to prevent them from ever living by returning to his right time.

He did it out of love to spare his children such a terrible fate, no matter how twisted and backward it seemed. But his race couldn't have murdered all those non-bending babies or half-spawns out of love—because Air was alive and well, not extinct! The only conclusion was that his race murdered those babies out of hatred. And they actively killed them—actively murdered them, snuffing out their existence after they already lived, breathed, and experienced freedom's grace under Air's aegis!

He would have been—he was!—incapable of murdering his half-spawned children because he would love them! But why didn't his race love the non-benders or half-spawns? They should! They were of Air, even if incompletely, and there were already many fully of Air! But his race didn't care, did they? They felt no love in their hearts for them like Aang would feel for his half-spawned children; they felt disinterested apathy, callous dismissal, unsympathetic judgment, and cruel indifference.

What was happening?

Aang felt sick and disbelieving that his race would murder Kuruk's children when there were already so many Airbenders in the world; he felt horrified that his race would murder any non-benders born to them—it was wrong! It was an evil he never imagined his race capable of! But did they do it? Were they actually capable of the things Chief Kuhna accused them of? Would his race murder babies, tossing them from the temples' ledges and watching as the small bodies became ever smaller until they were indiscernible before they crashed against the unyielding ground in the valleys below? Would they commit crime after crime, not caring, distancing themselves from it as the Air Temples were distanced from the ground? Would they lie to everyone, even those such as himself, and conceal the crime by proclaiming that Air only produced Airbenders? Would they fabricate a legend of potent renown that Air was perfect in their lineages, hailing a glorious time and race while the foundation was built on an odious deception of crimes committed?

Chief Kuhna believed it—and Kuruk confirmed it inside him.

But Aang denied it because if he believed it, too, it would destroy him; it would kill so many parts of himself. "It's not true," he protested, finding his voice and strength; he began to back away, shaking his head—his mind was made up. Sozin had tricked Chief Kuhna, and Kuruk was wrong, not understanding what had happened to his children. It must have been accidents at the temples—nothing more. Maybe Kuruk's children thought themselves Airbenders rather than Waterbenders and jumped off the ledges with gliders, trying to glide, but they crashed to the grounds below, and no one was around to save them. Yes, that was it! That had to be it! It was it—yes! "I'm tired of your lies, Chief Kuhna. I'd thank you for your time, but it was a waste of mine."

"It was a waste of mine, too," Chief Kuhna responded, lips curling back in derision as he waved him out. "Fly away, Gyatso; go on, fly. Do what your kind has always done. Leave now—while I still allow it."

Aang exited the tent and rushed out of the city in a magnificent blur, creating a blizzard in his wake; he needed to get away—he had to! He had to rid himself of Sozin's lies that tainted all the races except for Air! Even Water held deep hostility for his race! No one was immune from Sozin's cunning! Only a select few he had encountered seemed to hold his race with generous, kind regard—those people on the continent in Earth's major cities and Rina! Why—why? How was Sozin doing it? Had he studied the beliefs and values of the other races, including Fire, and specifically denigrated Air by targeting those core beliefs and values and proclaiming that Air despise those beliefs and values—as had so clearly happened to Water and Chief Kuhna? Had he sent his agents across the world to sabotage Air in everyone's eyes by associating Air with all that was foul in their eyes?

He dashed across the ocean, running swiftly—he would never be tired again, not until he got to the bottom of it all!—in the Southern Temple's direction. He would get there before Sozin's Comet, and he could save the Southern Temple and everyone there, including Gyatso—Gyatso! Once he accomplished it, securing for himself desperate momentum, and obtained answers about what happened and how Sozin achieved such a hold over the world's hearts, he would return to the Tree and do it all over again, changing his strategy and target.

Everyone was wrong! It was Sozin—Sozin!

He forced the dreadful, echoing words out of his mind. If he contemplated them more, he would madden himself more, which was counterproductive to his entire goal of rescinding his status as the Mad Balance-Keeper by fixing all his mistakes!

Night began to fall, and Tui's light descended over the ocean, providing a steady glow, and Aang continued running, focused on his task—on his motivation. He would save his younger self—and, thus, himself—from rape and anguish! However, when he reached a certain point, something registered in his mind—a vague sense of familiarity. He jumped into the air, spinning around to perceive all angles, but he didn't know what captured his attention, but the farther he ran, the more insistent the sense became—until it resembled a roar.

It clicked within moments.

Aang froze, standing on the frigid water, gasps befalling him as he realized what he was about to witness—it was a crime against his soul!

The atmosphere was peaceful, belying the horror and sorrow surging through him. The waves rolled gracefully beneath him; the ocean itself was calm. The winds whipped around him, and snow flickered against his cheeks. But how quickly it would change—because he knew what was coming!

Against his will—because he didn't want to watch, not at all!—his gaze ascended, locking onto a familiar figure flying through the air. Aang watched in wonder as the Boy darted through the wind atop Appa's head, gripping the reins tightly, yet loosely. He was so far away from the Boy, should be unable to see him at all, but he saw the Boy so clearly—like he stood in front of him. He was awestruck by how innocent the Boy looked—how he himself had looked once. The Boy looked sad and despondent, terrified but determined, but no horrors and anguish lingered in the young gray eyes; the knowledge of what was yet to come eluded his kind, malleable heart.

He recognized nothing of himself in the Boy beyond the gray eyes and tattoo of mastery. He knew the Boy was himself—knew it like he knew nothing else—but it didn't seem believable; it seemed incomprehensible, especially because the Boy lacked anything related to Air's murder in his eyes. There was a maddening naivety and ignorance conveyed by the Boy's face, so young and childish, rounded with immaturity and innocence.

He hated the Boy more than ever before—because the Boy was an idiot who was running away from the best thing to ever happen to him because he was weak and pathetic! He wanted the Boy to die and never exist, be replaced by himself, who actually understood Life and everything it meant, everything that was going to happen, but he knew to kill the Boy meant killing himself, and he couldn't do it—he lacked the willpower and motivation. The Boy was a blight to the world—the worst thing to ever happen, even worse than Sozin!—because the Boy let it all happen and did nothing, embracing his immaturity and ignorance.

The Boy was The Avatar.

Aang's breathing elevated as the flakes of snow brushed his cheeks, becoming rapid and uneven; his heart churned in his chest, pumping blood so swiftly he felt it in the ocean below. He watched, unblinking, riveted, as the Boy approached the Moment—the storm would rise and swallow him whole! He willed himself to change it, to change everything for himself—to rescind the Iceberg's birth! He willed himself to ascend into the sky and sweep the Boy away from a century's imprisonment, but he couldn't move; he was frozen as he watched the Boy ride on Appa towards the clear skies, oblivious of his coming sleep.

But he couldn't change the Boy's fate—because the Boy deserved it! The Boy—that damned, foolish, weak, pathetic, stupid boy!—deserved all the suffering and torment in existence—it was the Boy's fault

The Boy deserved to suffer!

He felt a dreadful satisfaction as he recognized exactly where the Boy was; he was about to watch the Boy become sucked into the colossal storm. It would surround the Boy in a suffocating blanket at any moment, rising above him like Agni himself, appearing out of nothing—out of nowhere.

Aang knew it as he knew his own hand; he had relived the moment countless times in his nightmares. The Boy was going to pat Appa's side and whisper to descend slightly and then the storm appeared. He watched with bated, trembling breaths as the memory happened before his eyes—the Boy leaned down, patted Appa's head on the side, and said to descend. The storm would rise any moment and swallow the Boy!

But no storm appeared.

The night skies remained clear, and the ocean was calm and tranquil; everything was serene, impossible for a storm to appear, least of all the titanic one that had haunted him for years.

Aang watched incomprehensibly as the Boy kept flying on Appa—something that should be impossible! Where was the storm? Where—where? Where was it? What happened? Why didn't the storm swallow the Boy as he deserved to be swallowed? The Boy should be sinking to the bottom of La's depths, ignorant to the pathetic truth of his existence, but it wasn't happening! Why wasn't it happening? How could the biggest storm he had ever encountered in his life, so much more severe and sublime than any other, not appear? What could possibly keep the storm from happening? Or if not triggered, what could possibly trigger the storm?

The realization struck him, and he almost sunk to the bottom of La's depths himself because of it—it was evil!

He swallowed thickly as he realized what was going to need to happen; he himself would need to create the storm himself. He had to create the nightmare that had haunted him for years. If the Boy must go into the Iceberg—he must!—Aang himself needed to provoke the storm. To avenge himself on the Boy, he needed to make his own trauma. But without the storm, the Boy would continue flying, possibly going anywhere in the world in his ignorance, and Aang would lose track of him, which was unacceptable. The only way to make the Boy stationary, where only he knew where he was and no one else, was to trap him in the Iceberg by creating the colossal storm—it was better than having to go searching and scouring for the Boy across the world, trying to think of where he would go.

Aang knew that it was the only way; he couldn't let the Boy continue his journey. He would be captured by Sozin through Sozin's agent and tortured, which meant triggering The Avatar State, and Sozin would kill the Boy on Vaatu's orders, conveyed by Agni, before he could escape, permanently ending The Avatar Cycle, securing total supremacy for Vaatu. The safest place for the Boy while Aang figured out how to save Air and find the answers he needed, even if it meant returning to the Tree and doing it all over again, was beneath the ocean, locked in permanent dormancy.

The tears flooded his eyes, and Aang wept as he raised himself on a column of water stretching to the sky, away from the Boy's line of sight; he stared out at the Boy, wondering if he could do it. The Boy deserved it—no doubt at all. But to do it to the Boy meant doing it to himself, no matter how much he hated that fact—no matter how much he hated the Boy and wanted to separate himself from him in all possible ways. He was willing to let the storm swallow the Boy when he thought the storm was a random event that could have happened to any Airbender traveling that night; he was willing to let the storm swallow the Boy when he thought the storm only appeared by some kind of cosmic insistence on saving him and making him avoid the Great War by sparing him from falling in Air's murder; he was willing to let the storm swallow the boy when he thought the storm's appearance was in the hands of some higher power, such as the Tree.

But it was different now—it was himself in charge and in control. The truth blinded him, flooding his mind with explosions of misery. He had a choice to make; he had the power—he had all the power.

The choice was simple, born of vengeance and practicality. He wanted the Boy to suffer, and he needed to know where the Boy was. But why did it feel like more than that?

It didn't matter.

Aang memorized the Boy's innocent posture and gathered his energy. Within moments, his tattooed hands clenched tightly, drawing blood as his aura of power erupted. the winds howled viciously, and dark clouds appeared in the sky, blotting out Tui's light. A heavy downpour cascaded down, and the evening transformed into a hurricane, a colossal event of nature. A deafening shockwave of thunder screeched across the heavens, lightning crackling ominously with intent; massive waves of water rose from the churning ocean in a gigantic wave-like hand, agape to consume all in its path.

The rain slammed into Aang with vicious ferocity, pelting him with a rhythm impossible to track or keep up with; the world around him was a haze of water, blurring everything—but he saw, anyway. He watched—remembered—as the Boy shrieked and desperately urged Appa to fly faster, but the waves reached Appa, drawing both of them in its infallible grasp. The Boy screamed in terror, slamming his eyes shut, and Appa roared in fear, trying to escape from the maws of icy water, but it was futile. The wave grew even larger, and an intense, overwhelming gust of wind smashed Appa and the Boy fully into the ocean's grip. They were submerged, and Aang held them there, drowning them, pulling them deeper and deeper into the ocean, where only darkness existed.

He saw the brilliant glow of blinding white light after several more moments in the depths, miniscule to him from the surface—but there all the same. The Iceberg was made. Once the glow faded and the Iceberg sunk to the bottom of the ocean, Aang released his hold with the satisfaction. The skies parted, and the evening's light shone on him once more.

He would always come back and release the Boy, giving him all the power in the world after he had already ensured the Boy couldn't mess everything up. He needed to return home to ensure it, gather the answers, and go back to the Tree and do it all over again so he could save all his race, not only the Southern Temple.

He took off for home.

XxXxXxXxXxX

But that's this one, folks! Please leave a review and tell me what you thought! I would really appreciate it!

**Aang arrives back in the past—on the day of his twelfth birthday, but not at the Southern Temple. He arrives in the same clearing that his body last was in 109 AG (After Genocide). Thus, Aang has to travel extensively all on foot to achieve his aims of killing Sozin and stopping Air's murder, which prevents the Great War. All the madness that Aang has ever felt for the past nine years erupts out of him in this chapter, in which he commits horrible crimes and says terrible things. It's him unloading/unleashing years' worth of hatred, and he takes it out on everyone he meets. He treats everyone he meets, particularly those who say something bad about Air, cruelly and kills indiscriminately when he's hate-filled enough. He doesn't understand anything, and he's lashing out about the way he thinks things are—and the way things should be. But he learns slowly, horribly, traumatically that things are so much more different than he ever thought. All the evidence was piling up to reach the heights of the Air Temples themselves, but he rebelled and rejected, possessed by impenetrable denial—until it reaches the point where he can do nothing but finally listen and absorb what's happening. But it takes a very long time to reach that point, and everything has to pile up, burdening him with the sheer weight and volume until he falters, allowing the truth to slip through.

Yes, Aang realizes that he should have killed Ozai—and everyone like him, which includes Sozin. Honestly, killing Ozai is what logically makes the most sense. I know that it was what made the most emotional sense in the show for Aang but remember that he was 12-years-old, a boy who was raised as a pacifist and thought that killing was the cardinal sin in existence, even though he killed people in Canon. Annihilation of the Fire Nation's navy at the Northern Water Tribe, and the destruction of General Fong's Earth Kingdom base, anyone? He wasn't truly mature in spite of his wisdom-beyond-his-years tendencies. Everyone else said that Ozai should be killed, but Aang refused, finding a different way by taking away his firebending. That is a debilitating cop-out about the true decisions in life that one must make, although I do completely understand why the show went that route for him and even applaud it in some ways—but that is ONLY because Aang himself was a child, and it was a children's show. If Aang had been closer to Zuko or Sokka's ages in Canon during Sozin's Comet, then he MUST kill Ozai because it would show that he could be a true Avatar and a man, but since he was only 12-years-old, it was okay how it went even though I will still gripe about it. (He can learn later on that things must be done like that, as he did in this story.)

As Avatar Yangchen had told him: "Selfless duty calls for you to sacrifice your own spiritual needs, and do whatever it takes to protect the world." That is a truthful statement that Aang now, as a mature man and fully-realized Avatar, finally understands. This is the reason for his entire existence as the Avatar, what he was taught, to preserve peace and balance, but in refusing to kill Ozai, thus giving one of the most dangerous men in the entire world the ability to return to inflict harm on innocents, he drastically failed in that duty. With Ozai still living, the threat that remains looms large because it's Ozai, who was immensely powerful and on top of that, an expert manipulator and political leader. Ozai should have been killed in Canon because as seen in history, an overthrown leader is never a gone leader; he could always return. Why do you think that every major removal of power in world history is seeped in the slaughtering of the old? It's because of the danger they present, the very danger that Ozai himself represents in the world of Avatar because if they/he return, they/he are a very legitimate threat who could destroy everything and everyone you love, especially in the era that the show was set in. (Look at all of the medieval history in Europe of Kings and Princes or claimants for the throne raising an army to take back their rightful throne, killing anyone and everyone in their way. Ozai could easily do that because he has loyalists, firebending be damned!)

Thus, Aang kills so much because he thinks that he's protecting the world from men and women like Sozin—by killing everyone whom he believes is reciting Sozin's propaganda and indoctrination.

**Aang meets Rina, Ursa's mother and Azula's grandmother. I thought it would be interesting for Aang to meet a 'perfected Azula' because he hates Azula's imperfection, which is identified by her blood, her literal descent from Sozin, whom Aang hates with the force of Existence itself. Because why wouldn't he hate Sozin? But he takes that out on Azula when she becomes Mother of Air because he wants to keep Air pure and free from Sozin. Like Azula is very similar to Ursa, Ursa is very similar to Rina, which means that Azula is very similar to Rina. It's a running theme. And in Rina, he met a 'perfected Azula,' one untainted by Sozin's blood. However, though Rina could give him everything that he possibly wants, he doesn't actually want her—because he wants Azula and no one else. It's one of the many truths he is forced to confront. And most importantly, he learns to let go of his shame in loving what he does and being who he is.

**Aang realizes that Sozin's Comet is a lot closer than he calculated and panics, booking it to the South, where he meets Chief Kuhna, who reveals unholy truths about Air—but Aang denies those truths, unable to face them.

There is a legend about the Spartans of Ancient Greece, how they would throw imperfect, weak, or deformed newborns off of cliffs; that's where I got the idea for the Elders, who, besides for Gyatso, all already seemed like callous and cruel fools in Canon, to pitch non- airbending children off the Air Temples. Also, their isolation from the other nations is incredibly foolish and doesn't bode well in comparison with real-life history. Because of their isolation, they have no allies and aren't able to adjust to the changing world. The isolation is a perfect example of how they aren't the enlightened race that everyone claims they are because isolationism isn't truly wise. They became stagnant and their culture would clash too much with the other nations. The Four Nations have incredibly different cultures and that is referenced perfectly by Chief Kuhna and Aang's conversation, which is always something that I wished to see in Canon. The Water Tribes are appalled by the Air Nomads, and the Air Nomads are appalled by their consumption of meat and killing.

But Aang isn't finished—he has to go to the Southern Temple, going home for the first time in over nine years for him.

So, that's it for this one. Please, leave a review and tell me what you think! I would really appreciate it!

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