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!

35. Failure

ATTENTION! THERE ARE NOW 37 CHAPTERS, NOT 24! I HAD TO REDO THE LENGTHS OF EACH, STRETCHING IT OUT MORE! THE NEWEST CHAPTER IS CHAPTER 37 (STRATEGY)! START FROM THERE IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN READING THE NEWEST CHAPTER! IT WILL TAKE PROBABLY A FEW HOURS, POSSIBLY DAYS FOR ALL THE NEW CHAPTERS TO BE UPLOADED! PLEASE GO TO CHAPTER 37 AND READ THE NOTICE AT THE BEGINNING FOR EXPLANATION! MY APOLOGIES FOR THE CONFUSION!

Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate hearing the feedback from you guys!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender

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Hakoda sipped the warm drink in front of him, taking comfort in its heat. The South had become colder, and darkness seemed almost permanent. The Sun had lost its potency. Once, he would have basked in it, delighted that Fire was losing and was compromised. But the bitter chill of his flesh was louder than his old warrior competitiveness. He was not the man he once was, full of hate and bitterness, ready to swim in the blood of Fire for what was done to his father, his grandfather, and Kya—to himself and their children. He was old, and he felt older than he actually was; the intense cold did nothing to help his aches.

And it only intensified the ache in his heart.

It had been close to three years since he had seen his children—when he had been impatient with them both. He had grown irritated with Katara's stubbornness by her refusal to do right by the South, to fulfill her duty as a Chief's daughter, never raising the topic like she needed to, forcing the burden on him. Whenever he asked her about it, she was non-committal and disinterested; she seemed angry about it, which irritated him because she wasn't taking the future seriously.

He had also been irritated by Sokka's immaturity; not even his marriage to the wonderful Suki had tempered his immaturity and refined it into maturity, into a Chief who Hakoda was comfortable leaving the South—and the North—with.

After the Great War, when they had returned to the South, Sokka and Katara seemed to revert to who they were prior to finding Aang.

Hakoda understood that—children should have had no part in the Great War. The horrors his children saw and endured were too intense, and they blocked them from their minds, finding joy in repressing those memories, living a life of simplicity.

But life was not simple, especially for children of Chiefs.

Sokka had done his duty and found a worthy wife in Suki and married her, but his son's burden was more extensive than past Chiefs; he was heir not just to the South but the North. And that came with expectations that Sokka failed to meet—and his impulsive marriage to Suki had nearly ruined everything. Sokka's immaturity had alienated Arnook, who spent more time with him, whereas the actual nobles in the North never met Sokka, never spent time with him, only knowing of him by his reputation as a hero of the Great War—it was the only reason they supported Sokka against Arnook's wishes, which was the very break Hakoda had waited his entire life for.

But it was clear to him that it was only Arnook's grip of control in the North that ensured a smooth succession, nothing of Sokka's own doing. And Katara had rejected all her suitors, refusing to ruminate on her position as Chief's daughter and sister to the future Chief of the Water Tribes. Initially, he had been lenient, understanding. But years passed, and she continued her refusal, forcing him to act.

When Kuei offered to help him negotiate with Arnook, he had agreed, not thinking that Kuei would be able to do anything. He was as surprised as Sokka when Kuei succeeded within weeks, and Arnook agreed to name Sokka the North's heir—but only if Kuei married Katara, creating a powerful political alliance between their races.

Hakoda had hesitated to do it, knowing that Katara would hate the idea of the marriage, but he agreed, believing she would learn to love Kuei, since she was at least already familiar with him from the Great War. He hated not giving her a choice, but it was for the good of the South and North—for the good of Water—and for Sokka's position, which was very tenuous. Katara's resulting obstinance and condemnations against him, despite her accepting Kuei, were unsurprising but difficult.

However, upon Sokka and Katara's journey to the Fire Nation to help Fire Lord Zuko, close to three years had passed, and he had only received word from Ba Sing Se from Sokka, who described much of what happened in a letter. But beyond that, he had heard nothing from either of his children since that day they had left after receiving Fire Lord Zuko's urgent message.

Hakoda hadn't expected them to be gone long, maybe a few months. He honestly didn't know if they were still alive.

Because he had received word through his stepfather from King Bumi of Omashu of the events transpiring. The Order of the White Lotus, of which Pakku was part, had been slaughtered off, and a powerful spirit—who he later learned was Vaatu—was targeting Avatar Aang's power structure, weakening him. Vaatu held a powerful grudge against Avatar Aang, meaning those close to him were at risk.

Had he seen the last of his children?

Now with the Sun weakening, he feared the state of the world once more. And because the North had been devastated according to the messages they received, leaving only a few hundred men left out of the original fifty thousand, things were getting worse—so much worse. He thought he would never see something worse than the Great War, especially since the Great War was only a decade ago. He knew something worse would come along, for that was the way of the world, but not in his lifetime, not while Avatar Aang was alive.

But this seemed worse than the Great War, though the Great War was unbelievably evil—and complex.

Because he knew terrible things had happened since he had last seen Katara and Sokka—and Suki, too—and he knew there would be more terrible things, but he didn't know if those terrible things had happened directly to his children and daughter-in-law. Were they affected by Vaatu's machinations? Were they dead since he had received Sokka's letter so many ago from Ba Sing Se?

Cutting through his somber thoughts, Hakoda glanced to his hut's entrance at the sound of incoming feet. Within moments, his stepfather entered his hut. He had been initially wary of Pakku, but through the years, they had reached an understanding, built on love for their race. Together, and with Katara's help, they had rebuilt the South until it rivaled the majesty of the North, at least according to Pakku.

"This letter is from Iroh," his stepfather informed him with a grim face, holding up parchment in his hand.

Hakoda blinked and sat down his bowl. "The Dragon of the West?"

"He rules the Fire Nation now."

He stood to his feet in shock. "Fire Lord Zuko's dead?"

Did that mean Sokka and Katara and Suki were dead, too?

Pakku sighed and shook his head; he walked to one of his furs and sat down heavily. "No. Iroh serves as regent of the Fire Nation. He rules now until Fire Lord Zuko returns."

Hakoda sat back down in understanding, considering what such knowledge meant. "Yes. Sokka mentioned something about Fire Lord Zuko being with them in his letter. They are fighting against Vaatu."

"Iroh says Vaatu seeks to become his own Avatar and depose Avatar Aang, erasing him and all memory of The Avatar from existence."

He marveled in horror at such ambition. "And they say spirits aren't like us."

Pakku looked grim. "According to Iroh, Vaatu has three elements—Fire, Earth, and Water. Ozai is nearing ascendancy as Vaatu's vessel."

"Aang won't let Ozai get Air."

"He let him get this far. I had hoped time would neuter his laziness."

Hakoda shook his head. "No, Aang is different; he's aged; he's mature. Sokka described him in his letter to me, how sometimes Aang isn't recognizable because he's so different from who he was before. He's a true Avatar. Sokka said Aang has mastered every bending art he could. And we heard what happened to Ba Sing Se and Kuei. Aang doesn't mess around anymore; he's serious. Maybe too serious."

Hadn't that been a shock—The Avatar murdering Ba Sing Se and Kuei, Katara's betrothed. The news had sent waves of horror through the Four Nations, and Hakoda had been as astounded as anyone. Whispers had consumed the South for months after the news had reached them, and Hakoda had done nothing to deter the whispers, for he was as concerned as his race.

How couldn't he be? Because the image of The Avatar slaughtering Ba Sing Se didn't correspond with the Aang Hakoda had known. But he had to remember that the Aang he had known was a boy dealing with the weight of the world who clearly used distractions to deter himself from despair and horror—the trauma of a lost world and race. And when he had received Sokka's letter, his son had been more than clear—quite sad, according to the tone his son conveyed in the letter—that Aang had changed, for better or worse. His son had mentioned specifically that Aang's wrath was terrifying, so somehow, Hakoda knew that his children were on the receiving end of Aang's wrath or were close enough to watch that wrath directed at someone else.

Either way, the thought was not a comforting one. Whispers of Avatar Kuruk's wrath after the Face Stealer stole his wife's face were still whispered about in the South; they say the ocean boiled every single day for the rest of his reign—some centuries, according to the Sages—until his life dimmed and slipped into the Earth Kingdom to signal the beginning of Avatar Kyoshi's reign.

Pakku sighed. "Be that as it may, we must be prepared for his failure. If he fails, it won't be long before Ozai comes to destroy us. We must fortify."

He stared at his stepfather for several moments, considering him. "This is different from the Great War; this is worse. Aang is fully-realized now and no longer that boy you trained during the Great War; he's an adult. He's twenty-three now. If he can't stop Vaatu, we have no chance of stopping him, nonetheless preserving our way of life here in the South. If Ozai becomes an Avatar, he has waterbending, and whatever fortifications we make will be wiped away by his hand. Someone would have to fight him, but are you comfortable in your ability to fight him if Aang can't?"

His stepfather looked away, but Hakoda took no solace in his 'victory' over him. "We need to do something."

"We do," Hakoda agreed. "What else did the Dragon of the West say?"

"He says Vaatu unleashed a plague on Firebenders, and that there are very few Firebenders left in the world by now—only Masters, who are immune to the plague. Fire is endangered as a race."

He was frozen at such news; once he would have celebrated. Now he felt dread. "What kind of plague targets only Firebenders?"

Pakku had never looked older in Hakoda's eyes. "Somehow through energybending."

"That's how Aang took Ozai's firebending," he recalled, still amazed all these years later over such an ability. "I don't know how he did it. But Ozai somehow regained Fire; it was only temporary. I don't understand."

"Not even Iroh understands it," his stepfather said. "But he understands the effects and limitations of the plague. It targets only Firebenders and can be carried only by Firebenders. This plague is why the Sun has dwindled in potency; Agni suffers."

"This is worse than the Great War," he repeated, running a hand through his hair. "This involves spirits. This isn't something that any of us can deal with like the Fire Nation; we don't have a target to kill. Only The Avatar can deal with spirits."

"He also says that King Bumi was killed."

Hakoda leaned back in disbelief. "Shit. How?"

"Ba Sing is gone—again. Countless died in the attack, including King Bumi and King Bipin of Chyung." There was a grief on Pakku's face, and Hakoda recalled that King Bumi was Pakku's friend. "According to Iroh, Ba Sing Se, Chyung, and Zaofu are destabilized and destroyed in many places."

At the look on Pakku's face, Hakoda nodded in understanding, still amazed—in the worst of ways. "I'm sorry. I know King Bumi was your friend."

His stepfather nodded in return. "I have lost so many friends in this new war. All I have left is Iroh."

"Did Iroh say how?"

Pakku shook his head. "There's no confirmation, why would there be, but it was an agent of Vaatu. Who else could it be? Bumi was the strongest Earthbender in the world."

Hakoda thought of Toph, the girl he had known briefly during the Great War. "There has to be something we can do. We need to help Aang. This is too much for him. Earth is in chaos, Fire is in chaos, and the North is in chaos—so much has been lost." A dread curdled in his gut, and he leaned forward in desperation, tempted to snatch the letter from Pakku's hand. Had his children been consumed like so many others? "Did Iroh mention my children? Where are they? How are they? I've heard nothing for so long."

"That is why I came."

He froze in horror. "They're dead?"

"Iroh doesn't know. Look at the last paragraph," Pakku said and handed him the letter, and Hakoda read the last paragraph with keen eyes:

And Pakku, please discuss with Chief Hakoda the possibility of visiting the Fire Nation to confer with me. I need people I can trust. Tell him that I have been doing my best to track his children, along with The Avatar and my family, through their fight against Vaatu, but I have lost track of them. Tell him his children could be anywhere, and if he wishes to make a difference, he must visit with me so we can conceive a plan to help our children wherever they are. They need our help against this monumental threat.

Prince Iroh, Sage of Fire, and regent ruler of the Fire Nation

Hakoda looked up, determined; his mind was set. "Prepare the ships. Only we and a few others will go for now before we call for reinforcements once we know what we're facing."

Pakku stood to his feet and nodded. "You'll need to call a gathering to explain the situation and ask for volunteers to join us when it is time. I suspect The Avatar will need more soldiers for his army to fight against Vaatu."

He nodded. "Yes. The South has stayed out of this far too long. My children won't be alone in representing us; we have a vested interest in this war, too. Everyone does. We're going to find my children and help Avatar Aang."

His stepfather inclined his head in respect. "Yes, Chief Hakoda. But know that there may be several of the men who demand Katara's hand in marriage for repayment of going to war for you. We all know her betrothal to King Kuei is null and void now—it has been for a long time now."

Hakoda frowned. "This isn't for me. It's for the world; it's to help The Avatar."

"They may still ask."

"She may no longer be mine to give away," Hakoda admitted. "It's been two years since I've seen her, and Sokka didn't say much about her beyond that she was healthy and safe. For all I know, she may be married already. She was always rebellious; it wouldn't surprise me if she married—and married a man I didn't approve of."

Pakku hesitated and gestured to the letter. "You may have your answer if you read paragraph six, I think it was."

Hakoda found the paragraph:

But I got to know your student quite well, my friend. Princess Katara is interesting to me, very interesting. I knew her during the Great War, and while I saw the potential and connection, I failed to see how deep it was. She is good for my nephew; in fact, she is perfect for him, if I may be so blunt. When she stayed in the Caldera for those first months, I watched a progression that I never imagined. My nephew loosened himself of his restraints; he opened himself up more, and his jaded disposition smoothed out—at least partly, as much as Zuko would tolerate. Unfortunately, a Fire Lord needs a certain jadedness to survive. But their shared connection is vibrant and noteworthy. In fact, Dowager Fire Lady Ursa and I both recognized it and shared several conversations about it. I raised the point several times with my nephew, but Zuko avoided the issue—quite clumsily for a Fire Lord, might I add. However, I know my nephew, and I got to know Princess Katara, too, and understand how special she is. Since they have been gone with Avatar Aang to fight Vaatu, and been gone for so long, I imagine their relationship has progressed steadily if not rapidly. I estimate that my nephew yearns for Princess Katara to be his Fire Lady, if he has not married her already, and based on my knowledge and understanding of Princess Katara, I do not think in the slightest she is opposed to such an idea. When all this is over, I believe we will have reason to celebrate a wedding of Fire and Water, an alliance more than possible and beneficial. If I were a dutiful uncle, I would message Chief Hakoda myself to inquire about an official match in marriage between them, but these tenuous times—and the fact I sense they are already married unofficially, at the least—have prevented me. Perhaps you could raise this issue with Chief Hakoda and gauge his reaction to this news.

Hakoda digested that news for several moments. His daughter and the Fire Lord. What would Kya think?

He had always considered Fire Lord Zuko a much better match than Kuei, but he never imagined such a thing with and for Katara. He never considered it, nor did he necessarily want to consider it possible. He had always imagined Fire Lord Zuko would marry either a Fire Nation noble to show his loyalty to his nation or marry an Earth Kingdom princess as a sign of peace.

But Fire Lord Zuko had chosen his daughter, and according to the Dragon of the West, Katara had chosen the Fire Lord back.

His daughter, of her free will, had chosen to marry into the most powerful bloodline in the world—the line of Sozin.

The irony was choking.

Such a marriage had once almost happened by force when Azulon came to the South all those decades ago and conquered. Hakoda almost laughed in hysteria as the memories were bitter, cold, and consuming:

His father was dead—murdered by the Fire Lord, by Azulon. It was the one thought ringing through his mind through all the chaos as he was escorted through the destroyed capital in the South—it was obvious that the South was never going to recover. After his grandfather, Chief Kuhna, had been killed a generation ago by Azulon, his father had strengthened the South and came back stronger, unflinching, and severe to face. But looking at all the destruction, all the unmoving bodies, all the destroyed buildings, seeing the melted snow and ice in places, where blood burned vividly against his eyes—there was so much red, not only from the blood but from all the Fire soldiers everywhere!—it was clear that the South was done, never to rise again, conquered forever by Azulon.

Fire's flag waved in the South, not the South's.

He had to trudge through all the snow, surrounded by Fire soldiers, who had reached the bunker where his father left him with his mother. At first, when the bunker opened, he thought it was his father who returned, but then he saw the red—so much red!—and knew that his father was dead. It was confirmed by their words, which said the Fire Lord demanded his presence.

It was a humiliation never meant to be endured by anyone!

He was led to a large crowd of survivors huddled together, and their eyes stared at him in fear, recognizing him as their prince—but he was powerless to reassure them. Standing before the crowd was the Fire Lord, bathed in powerful, imposing red armor, massive in height. Surrounding him were many bodies of unmoving Water Tribesmen, blood everywhere—it looked like some were even blown apart.

Lightning.

"This is him?" the Fire Lord asked before everyone.

"It is, my liege," one of the soldiers confirmed. "This is the prince, the non-bender."

The Fire Lord stalked forward through the carnage surrounding everyone, golden eyes rooted on him; he gripped his chin and peered into his eyes, assessing him with keen regard in front of everyone—family and foes. Hakoda wanted nothing more than to attack, to peel that disgusting hand that emanated with unnatural warmth away, and heave punch after punch, but he did nothing.

"You are young, Prince Hakoda." The Fire Lord, to Hakoda's astonishment, swiped his flaming hand through Hakoda's chains, destroying them. None of the Fire soldiers said a word, watching their Fire Lord with rapt attention, obedient. "My men say you near your manhood, according to your race."

"I'm sixteen," he muttered, blinking past his shock.

"Youthful," the Fire Lord observed, and Hakoda had no idea what he was thinking. "You have potential. Come with me."

Before Hakoda could say anything, the Fire Lord whirled around and marched past the corpses and into the Chief's hut. Hakoda wanted to rant and rage that the Fire Lord knew their culture enough to know the importance of what building to preserve, but he remained silent as he followed the Fire Lord, feeling the eyes of everyone—friends and foes—on his back as he entered, alone.

The sight of the Fire Lord sitting in the Chief's Chair almost sent him into wrath and hatred, but he held on—barely. "I'm here," he said, spreading out his arms—by the Moon, it felt good to out of those chains. If he didn't hate the Fire Lord for killing his grandfather, aunt, and father, he would like him for freeing him from the chains. "What do you want?"

The Fire Lord watched him, analyzing him, face imposing. "What do you want, Prince Hakoda?"

Hakoda refused to go to his death lying; he would be honest—like his father always was. "Vengeance."

"How boring," the Fire Lord derided, clearly unsurprised. "You should not want vengeance; you would not if you understood it."

"You killed my grandfather and father—and my aunt!" he spat.

The Fire Lord's brow quirked. "Are you suggesting I kill you, as well?"

Hakoda's jaw clenched. "At least it'd make me a man." It would obscure the painful memory of his powerlessness against Fire's attack, of hearing about his father's death and knowing there was nothing he could do in the slightest.

The Fire Lord watched him, sitting in the Chief's Chair—it was a blatant message of superiority, declaring that the Fire Lord own the South. It was a chair that was said to be carved by Avatar Kuruk himself for his son, one of many, who became the South's Chief. "You want to kill me."

Hakoda nodded. "More than anything."

The Fire Lord smiled. "More than saving your tribe?"

"I think it'd be worth it. We're already dead."

The moment his father died they were dead.

"Everyone wants to fight," the Fire Lord murmured with something Hakoda couldn't describe, looking away, face resigned. "Do you want peace, Prince Hakoda?"

"There's no peace with your kind in the world. You're murderers- "

The Fire Lord looked unimpressed, and it infuriated him. "And what do you call my murdered men slain in your snow?"

"Justice."

"For whom?"

"For Water."

"Careful," the Fire Lord chided, shaking his head. "You do not have the right to make decisions for Water—not yet. I still must decide what to do with you, Prince Hakoda."

Hakoda seethed but remained silent.

"You are possessed by the limitations of youth, but you also have the chance to grow. You want to fight now. I know if you had the chance, you would attack me right now."

Silence.

"I know if you were a Waterbender, you would have attacked me already—likely when I first sat down in this chair you call a throne."

Hakoda's fists clenched. "We don't call it a throne. It's the Chief's Chair—nothing more."

The Fire Lord's lips stretched slightly in amusement. "Thus, a throne—for no one but your race's ruler can sit on it. Do you want to sit on this throne, Prince Hakoda? Do you want to erase my touch from its memory?"

"If I knew it would kill you, I'd tell you to sit there forever."

"Do you want to be Chief?"

"It's my birthright, but it's my father's to give, not yours," he snapped.

"I merely delay the passage," the Fire Lord dismissed. "I think you can be reasonable, unlike your predecessors."

"Reasonable?" Hakoda echoed, disbelieving.

"This could have been avoided—it would have been avoided—if your father did not possess more ire than sense." The Fire Lord shook his head. "This war did not need to be this way- "

"You murdered Air!" he exploded.

However, to his surprise, the Fire Lord scoffed. "Do not pretend you care about that; do not pretend you possess a renowned sense of morality and justice; do not pretend you do anything but weaponize Air's memory to justify your own aggression. You know nothing about Air, Prince Hakoda, and you know even less of your race's feelings toward them before their demise."

Hakoda's jaw clenched as he recalled, against his will, several disturbing things his father had muttered when he thought no one was paying attention—how everything was the fault of the 'fucking Arrowheads,' amongst other disturbing things. "You don't know anything about- "

"I am older than you, boy," the Fire Lord observed with a wry twitch of his lips. "I have seen more than you can conceive; your mind is small while your heart is big. Your race hated Air with all the hatred with which you now hate me. My father and those old enough to remember told me before they died. Half of Earth did not care Air was murdered while the other half, filled with the Earth kings, saw Air's murder and wanted vengeance instantly and declared war immediately with fervor, drawing the other half of Earth into a war—all to avenge my father's invasion decades previously. It was never done for Air, not really. But Water waited and said nothing; it took Water years to attack. It was only Earth's calls to Water to attack that Water attacked—that the South attacked. It was never Air that motivated your race's aggression; it was Earth. Fire never wanted this war—we never wanted it."

Hakoda didn't believe the Fire Lord's disgusting lies. "What do you want, Fire Lord?"

"Peace if you can believe it."

"I can't."

"Your father said the same a long time ago," the Fire Lord said, shaking his head, sadness on his face—all lies! "I tried to negotiate with him as I do with you now. He was rigid. I offered him my youngest sister in marriage. In another life, you would be my nephew."

Silence.

Hakoda gaped at the Fire Lord, astonished and disgusted in equal measure. "My father would kill your sister before he'd marry her!"

"His response exactly," the Fire Lord said with a tired sigh, brimming with lament. "Unfortunately, I cannot give to you the same offer. My younger sisters are dead, and they bore no children. My brothers are dead, and they sired no children—no daughters. Only my line remains, and I have two sons, no daughters. My wife was an only child and had no sisters or brothers. My options to you are scant." Something like amusement crossed the Fire Lord's face. "And I doubt a woman older than me would intrigue you."

"Nothing of Fire intrigues me. I wish the cold would kill you."

"But my second son is young; he was born a few years ago," the Fire Lord continued. "And you are old enough to sire a daughter now. Even if no children are born from the union because your daughter is barren with a frozen womb, I would honor our agreement."

Hakoda's ears trembled from the roar slamming into him at the thought of his daughter being touched by a savage of Fire. "Never!" he spat.

"Even if it ensured peace?" the Fire Lord challenged, stunning him.

Hakoda stared at the Fire Lord in disbelief—fury, yes, but also disbelief. "Are you negotiating?"

"Boy, we have been negotiating since the moment we met."

Hakoda brushed a brusque hand over his jaw, wishing his father was alive—wishing his father would attack the Fire Lord with him, as they always dreamed. But his father was dead—because of Azulon. "I don't have time for these games!"

"You have all the time I permit you," the Fire Lord scolded with a furrow of his brows. "I was told you possess intelligence."

"Enough to know a deal with Fire is rotten to the core."

The Fire Lord smiled slightly, but his golden eyes burned with a ferocity that chilled his spirit. He wondered if that was how his father felt before he died. "I want nothing to do with the South. How much I have to do with it is up to you, Prince Hakoda. What kind of man will you be? What kind of Chief will you be?"

Hakoda sneered. "If I ever made a deal with you, I'd be a Chief in name only. You're going to destroy us."

The Fire Lord laughed. "Of course not. I would destroy the North before I would ever destroy you."

"And after you destroy the North?"

"I admire the South, Prince Hakoda," the Fire Lord claimed with a shocking honesty in his voice, but Hakoda refused to believe it. "I admire its spirit and honor. I find you much more honorable than Earth. I want peace with you."

"Your kind started the Great War and now want peace?" he demanded in painful disbelief. "You don't have the right! I'll never give you my daughter—if I have one! She'll never be touched by one of you, least of all by one of your evil line!"

A flash or anger appeared on the Fire Lord's face before it disappeared. "Then you have one more chance, Prince Hakoda. This is a deal I never offered your father."

"I don't want to hear it!"

The Fire Lord sat in the Chief's Chair, impervious to anything he could throw at him. "Grow your mind, not your heart, Prince."

Hakoda whirled away in a seething fury, hating Life so passionately it almost choked him. "What's the deal?" he hissed.

"I will leave the South alone; you will be its Chief. You can marry your children—your daughter or daughters—to whomever you please. In return, you must do one simple thing for me."

Hakoda glanced at him, knowing it was too good to be true. "Which is?"

"Pay tribute."

"That's insane- "

"Not of whatever treasures you find in the ice or in the ocean's depths; we are not like Air," the Fire Lord clarified in interruption. "A tribute of knowledge, nothing more. That is all I want. In return, Fire will leave you alone. No colony. No overseers. No governor. No soldiers. No ships patrolling your territories. No coming to finish what I started. Nothing. If I ever hear of a Fire Nation soldier who disobeys my order, I will deliver him to you personally to punish. If that includes execution, there will be no vengeance from me or anyone under my rule."

That was a lie if he had ever heard one, but the possibility was enticing. "What knowledge do you want?"

"All you must do is notify me whenever a Waterbender is born."

Silence.

Hakoda swallowed at the reminder of all the slain Waterbenders, many of whose bodies had been dumped into the ocean. "Why?" he breathed, trembling.

"My heir almost died because of your Waterbenders—because of your father."

Hakoda almost wept at how close his father had been to snuffing out the Fire Lord's heir. "That's not it," he whispered, shaking his head. "I'm not stupid. If that was actually what you wanted, you'd kill all of us—snuff out all the bloodlines and destroy the Family. What's the real reason?"

The Fire Lord nodded in approval, impressed, which disgusted him. "Yes, well observed."

"What's the real reason?"

"I look for a god's rebirth."

Hakoda's eyes widened in surprised realization. "You're looking for The Avatar."

"I await his return," the Fire Lord corrected with what seemed like amusement. "I cannot look for him. He hides in Heaven now, but he will return—my father died vowing it. With his final breath—his final word—he spoke of The Avatar and nothing else. He will come, and I must be ready."

"Why tell me this?"

The Fire Lord shook his head, silent for several moments; he appeared as old as his father claimed he was—it was a damn crime that the Fire Lord outlived his father, who deserved the longevity, not the Fire Lord. "You will never trust me, but perhaps you can respect me. I tire of this conflict; I tired of it decades ago. I hope you feel the same."

"You're a liar!"

"I continued it only because there was no other choice; Earth wants the war—always had. I also continued it only out of obligation to my father, who only continued it out of terror. He said The Avatar cursed him to madness, and there is no madness like war." The Fire Lord's eyes consumed him. "You understand that, yes?"

Hakoda thought of his father and grandfather. "Yes."

"I hate this war, Prince Hakoda—I despise it to its depths. I hope you can agree with me—I hope you do. The Avatar will return, and I want to reveal to him a world he can accept. This war is nonsense—we never wanted it. I hope you never wanted it."

He flinched at the subtle accusation, realizing somehow that the Fire Lord knew he lived his whole life wanting the war, wanting to fight and spill Fire's blood. "Right."

The Fire Lord hummed and drummed his fingers on the Chief's Chair's armrests. "I must decide what to do with you. You have the potential to cause problems, and I do not want more problems—I am sick of problems. This war is one massive problem; I seek its end, its conclusion, its cessation—however I can. I must discern if you are sick of this war, as well, or if you seek to continue it, prolong it, extend it, and expand it if you can. I hate this war—its futility is a curse to those who understand anything about it. It mires my dreams for the world—because Earth still wants the war, spitting on all attempts to negotiate. The Scourge of Fire would sooner cut out his heart than reach a settlement. Do you hate this war, Prince Hakoda?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"I want this war to end, Prince Hakoda. Do you?"

"Yes."

The Fire Lord's golden eyes were unbelievable in intensity. "Then accept my offer."

"Leave us alone," Hakoda countered, desperate, unwilling to make a deal with a monster—for now. "We want nothing to do with you."

The Fire Lord laughed slightly. "What you fail to understand is that we want nothing to do with you—I want nothing to do with you. Fire never declared war on Water until you murdered many of my subjects."

"You started this war!" he defended, disgusted by the Fire Lord's perverse rationalizations.

"Perhaps we started it with our attack on Air—I will never deny it—but Earth ensured it when we wanted to avoid it. Earth declared war on us. We never declared war on anyone but Air. We only declared war on Earth and Water when they wanted war—when we were forced into it."

"Don't twist it! You knew what would happen when you murdered Air like you did!"

The Fire Lord scoffed. "Do not pretend Air was innocent. You recite Earth's propaganda like a child. No one in the world liked Air, Prince Hakoda. Your race despised them possibly more vehemently than we did. Earth was the only one who tolerated them, and even then, there were many who hated them. Air made enemies everywhere. They stole when they wished and spit on the customs of the other races—they dared judge us and condemn us as brutes and savages."

Hakoda's teeth flashed. "You did slaughter them like animals."

"We did," the Fire Lord agreed, surprising him. "It is a blight forever but apply the complexity of the present to the past, and you will see and understand the past as it is—and was. Air sat in their temples near Heaven and looked down on us, never sharing in our miseries and troubles; they thought their proximity to Heaven made them holy and wise, but they were not. Some of them were, certainly, but the majority were not. Their understanding was like their kindness—nonexistent. Earth says that Air helped everyone and was a friend to all, but Air never helped anyone—not since Avatar Kuruk's reign, at least. They never left their temples and hoarded everything they could; they never shared their luxuries and glories with the other races. They hated us; they wanted everyone to be like them, erasing the natural distinctions of us all; they wanted a world of only Air. If you ever spoke to an Air Nomad, you realized swiftly that he thought his mind was bigger than the world. That is how the majority of them were in their final generations—the stories attest it. The truth is, Prince Hakoda—Earth needed to justify their war against us, and they weaponized Air's murder. It was never about avenging Air's murder; it was about Earth avenging themselves from my father's invasion 120-plus years ago now so the Earth Kings could legitimize their false reigns, given to them by Avatar Kyoshi. That is what this entire war has been about. We wanted to avenge Fire's shame in being enslaved to Air's economic demands. It's always been about vengeance."

Hakoda blinked, stunned; out of all the things he expected, what he heard was nothing like he imagined. "What?"

The Fire Lord's lips stretched in an unpleasant smile. "You did not think that Air survived as they did without an economical pursuit, did you? Fire paid tribute to Air for almost eight centuries to repent for a gross crime committed by one of our Fire Lords—Fire Lord Houka. His crime was shameful and dishonorable, and we needed to redeem ourselves—we needed to pay tribute. However, there came a time when the tribute needed to end. Air refused and demanded more and more. We funded their maintenance of their temples for centuries. We helped them make them grander and more marvelous than ever before. We gave them their luxuries. Their luxuries were, in reality, our luxuries. We paid for them. But when our race was miserable and dying during famines, we pleaded with Air to share and help us—they refused. Avatar Roku was no help as he was away, training—for twelve years. My father, newly crowned after his father's sudden death from the stress of the famine, went to Air and sank to his knees, supplicating himself to Air's High Council of Elders, begging for aid."

Hakoda scoffed and didn't both trying to imagine such a bold lie, though his heart's rate had started to accelerate at the Fire Lord's recount, which sang in his ears, piecing together too perfectly. "Recite your polardog shit elsewhere- "

"Air refused and said if he returned, they would increase the tribute amount. Rather than duplicate Fire Lord Houka's crime, my father returned to his homeland and began his conquests into the continent to save our race—to obtain the resources necessary to preserve our race and make them healthy and strong rather than miserable and dying. He stopped paying tribute and dared Air to attack him—to attack Fire, born warriors. Air sent assassins after my father, but he survived. Avatar Roku was blind and ignored my father's warnings; he was a weak Avatar—every Avatar since Yangchen have been abysmal failures. After his success with Earth, my father wanted to create colonies everywhere and share Fire's newfound prosperity—by doing exactly what Air refused to. But Avatar Roku refused, and my father was left to fend for himself in an ever-tightening political situation for which no one had a solution, only more problems to add, mounting the pressure and burden. When Avatar Roku died, we realized that, with The Avatar being born to and of Air in his newest life, Air would raise him to hate us; they would raise him as a weapon against Fire to mandate the tributes all over again but even worse and more severe and crippling, and we would be powerless to stand against a fully realized Avatar. That is why we attacked when we did—while The Avatar was but a boy. We fell prey to vengeance and committed a crime unlike any other, and we have suffered for it—my father suffered for it. The last twenty years of his life were a nightmare, and it was a nightmare for me to watch him, powerless to help him. Though he was Fire Lord then, I was the power of the Dragon's Throne, not him. I acted in his name and gave him credit for everything, maintaining his credibility in our race's eyes as he lost his sanity. I have tried to unwrap us from Vengeance's chains, but I have realized that the other races must do the same. However, none do—none want to. And now we fall prey to Vengeance again—it is a hopeless, maddening cycle."

Hakoda swallowed, feeling his hands shake, trying to keep his voice from shaking, too. "I don't believe you."

The Fire Lord's golden eyes were penetrating. "Yes, you do. You know it makes sense—makes too much sense."

"What does it matter?" he challenged, clearing his throat, shaking his head to clear those words out of his head—but they were stuck there. "You just conquered us and murdered my father! You murdered my grandfather and took my aunt!"

"I would end the war today if I could, Prince Hakoda," the Fire Lord confessed, and Hakoda didn't believe the lying mound of polardog shit. "But no one wants peace—rather, the leaders do not want peace. They hate peace; they are madmen. Vengeance is a cruel master, and we are all its slaves. There will be nothing left of any of us. That is why I discuss this with you. Are you a man who wants peace, or are you a man who wants war?"

"I want peace," Hakoda said, glaring, "but I don't want it with you. Your kind deserves nothing but death."

The Fire Lord shook his head, unsurprised. "Think about my offer, Prince Hakoda. We could evoke peace and cease this discord that only deteriorates our understandings. If your daughter marries my son, your grandson will never sit on the Dragon's Throne, but he will play a prominent role in the world's future."

"That will never happen!" he spat. "No daughter of mine will marry a savage!"

"Regardless, we can end this war diplomatically rather than violently—I try to. That is my goal. Earth has refused all negotiation, and the South did with your father as Chief. I hope you will be different; I hope you will see sense."

Hakoda didn't realize how much he actually wanted peace until he heard about the negotiations, which he had never known about—his father never mentioned their possibility. "And you think I would win by doing this, right?"

The Fire Lord looked tired and worn, smiling without any mirth. "We both know Fire will win. Only The Avatar can stop us. My race is a race of born warriors with aggression, violence, and power commingling in our blood. Agni judges us more severely than the other Great Spirits judge their Children. Fire must be great to survive. The other races feel no such judgment."

Hakoda grit his teeth. "Then may The Avatar return and wipe you from the world."

"I hate war because I know war. Do you know war, Prince Hakoda? What do you know of it? Have you ever fought in a battle? Have you ever watched a man's gore emptied out of him? Have you ever experienced the chaos and madness?"

He bowed his head. "No."

"I do not want to kill you, Prince Hakoda—I could, but I do not want to. It is well within my right to kill you as your conqueror. If I was, in fact, the man you perceive me as, I would kill you. However, I am not that man; I am not the evil you think- "

"You killed my grandfather, aunt, and father!" he roared, body quivering in emotion.

The Fire Lord's face changed, becoming haggard and resigned. "I have no idea who your aunt is, but I did kill your grandfather and father, yes. They loved war too much; they could not let it go. They did not want to live in a world without war—without the Great War. I could kill you like I did your father and grandfather, but I have yet to see in you the same possessive hatred—I see hints of it, but not its completion. There is hope for you—you are youthful and can mature. Will you help me end this war, Prince Hakoda?"

"I don't trust you."

"You have little choice but to trust me," the Fire Lord said with a factual effortlessness that Hakoda hated. "I hold the South's fate in my hands. At my word, I could slaughter all of you. Why do you not ask after the source of my restraint? Has it ever occurred to you that I do not want to see you slaughtered? All I want is an agreement toward peace, and I do not take hostages to ensure it when it is an option- "

"Fuck you!"

The Fire Lord's face twisted in frustration. "To spare your race from ruin, all I demand is knowledge, nothing more. Think, Prince Hakoda—use the intelligence I know you possess. I could demand much more; it is well within my right as your conqueror. I could demand all your women as my concubines—or as exotic rewards to gift to my generals. But I am not going to do that. I consider it distasteful, like I know you do. I could burn all your men and drop them into the ocean; I could take your children and raise them in Fire's culture, depriving them of their identities forever."

Hakoda felt sick, realizing that the Fire Lord was right; he really was being astonishingly generous. "True," he admitted, breathless.

"Do we have a deal?" the Fire Lord asked, leaning forward, golden eyes burning with hope. "I do not demand your future daughter wed to my son; I give the option to you—the possibility of advancement, which I know is the reason your grandfather entered this war to begin with. All I demand is knowledge—that is my single demand when I could demand a dozen. All you must do is tell me whenever a Waterbender is born in the South, nothing more. In exchange, we will leave you alone—I will leave you alone. No colony. No overseers. No governor. No soldiers. No ships patrolling your territories. No coming to finish what I started. Nothing. And if I ever hear of a Fire Nation soldier who disobeys my order, I will deliver him to you personally to punish, and you may execute him if you like with no threat appearing from me or anyone under my rule. Think of how generous I am being, Prince Hakoda—think."

Against his will, he started to think, realizing that it was a miraculously generous deal.

"Are you thinking?"

"Yes."

"It is the best deal you will ever receive in your life, yes?"

Hakoda swallowed in realization. "Yes."

"Do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal," he agreed reluctantly, heartbroken.

The Fire Lord closed his eyes, satisfied, before he rose from the Chief's Chair and stepped toward him with vivid golden eyes. "Then take your chair, Chief Hakoda."

Now Katara was married—or would be married—to Fire Lord Zuko, Azulon's very grandson and the son of the man Katara otherwise might have married in another life. He had broken his agreement with Azulon because he feared for his daughter's life, culminating in Kya's death, but it turned out that his daughter was always going to be connected to Sozin's line. It was a terrifying thought, but he knew Fire Lord Zuko from the twilight of the Great War, and Pakku vouched for the Dragon of the West. The remnants of Sozin's evils were diminishing with each passing generation.

Then there was the painful fact that he understood Azulon more and more with each year he lived his life, realizing more and more about the world, culture, and politics.

Maybe Azulon had been a good man, forced into an unwinnable situation. But if Azulon was actually a good man, was Sozin one, too?

It was way too painful to consider.

However, he felt proud of Katara and happy for her—because Fire Lord Zuko was clearly different from his father, taking after more of his grandfather. And Katara had a good head on her shoulders and clearly saw it, too. It had been easy for him to see during the Great War that the then-Fire Prince was often on Katara's mind, though for the wrong reasons. There had been a connection; even he had briefly seen that. And based on his own relationship with Kya, he knew how passion always burned under the fury. His wife had once hated him as Katara had hated then-Fire Prince Zuko.

"Quite an unexpected development," Pakku commented.

Hakoda blinked hard and looked up at Pakku, recalling everything he knew about Fire Lord Zuko, who had proven himself an excellent leader and unlike his father—but quite like his grandfather, ironically enough, looking to negotiate and diplomacy, hating the thought of war. "Yes, but probably a good one. If any of the men ask, I'll say she's taken."

"And when they ask to whom?"

He remembered the teenager he had known briefly, the same teenager who had risked everything to help Sokka save him from the Boiling Rock. "A good man who is an even greater man."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"The Avatar killed you?" Ozai asked, intrigued. While it was strange to be speaking with the body of Ty Lee, the gleam in the gray eyes was more than a blatant reminder that Zaheer, his renowned airbending master who would teach him everything, including the mastery of true flight, was in control. There were no similarities to Ty Lee in personality or beliefs or actions. It was literally someone else. "Why? Was he afraid of your power?"

Zaheer floated in the air before him, basking clearly in the feel of the art stolen from him long ago by The Avatar. "Perhaps Keska was, but I surmised always she wished vengeance on me; I suspect she feared only what else I could do, not me personally."

Ozai felt fascinated, recognizing a kindred spirit in Zaheer; Chin V and Hama had both hated The Avatar, but their hatred, too, burned for Fire. Chin V hated The Avatar more than Fire and was willing to work with Ozai after recognizing his identity, but Hama hated Fire more than she hated The Avatar.

Unfortunate.

At least that bitch was dead; she had created the situation allowing Ursa to flee! How he wished Vaatu to pull Hama from the Gardens of the Dead so he could inflict his fury on her!

But Zaheer was different, someone worthy, someone of equal mindset and perception to Ozai. Just as himself—and Vaatu, as well—Zaheer's hatred was focused solely on The Avatar, strengthening their bond as master and student.

Ozai looked forward to having a worthy ally. He anticipated success where before there were failures and complications.

"I suspect the same," Ozai said, feeling the phantom pain in his arm that The Avatar had once taken from him. "He fears what I can do, not me personally. I am no match for him, not yet."

"You will be," Zaheer assured. "He is borne of Air, yes?"

"The last of the old Air Nomads," he confirmed. "He seeks to revive his people through my whore-daughter; he married her, and she spreads her legs for him—pathetic."

Zaheer chuckled. "I admire his brutality and commitment to bedding his great enemy's daughter. He is a true Avatar."

Ozai seethed, but inwardly, he recognized had already reached the same conclusion. "Yes. And it makes my hatred burn even more."

"As it should. What most fail to realize is that The Avatar is not like us even though he looks like us; he is capable of horrors beyond mortal conception. Do you know why Keska killed me?"

"Why?"

Zaheer smiled, clear reminiscence on his face, which teemed with pride. "Because I dared take revenge against her. I did the unthinkable—I challenged the supremacy of The Avatar."

Ozai felt the passions of his heart sing in joy; he had found a worthy ally. "What did you do? Tell me."

"I sparked a rebellion against the leaders of my race, disgusted by their weakness," Zaheer said. "I knew we could take over if we wished. I knew my people could do as- … What was your ancestor's name?"

"Fire Lord Sozin," he answered, pride washing over him. He was the heir of a great inheritance, and he would not let The Avatar, Azula, and Zuko—and even Ursa herself!—ruin his inheritance for a second time!

Zaheer nodded. "Yes. Fire Lord Sozin. We could have done as he did and unleashed power against the other races, subjugating all under the supremacy of Air. For we were the first of the Four Races to rise to prominence and master our bending arts due to our superior insight and keen understanding; our spirituality eclipsed stubborn Earth, mutable Water, and chaotic Fire. We were masters when all other benders were novices, but we stagnated quickly and allowed the other races to catch up because our Elders were weak; they were fools, mired in their arrogance and static positions on their precious Council. All it would take was a little aggression and stretching of our power to remind the other nations to whom they owe their gratitude and service in repayment for our benevolence and nonsensical generosity. That is what the Elders failed to understand—no one touches Air unless we allow it. The only reason the other races exist is that we allowed them to exist."

Ozai narrowed his eyes. "Fire crushes Air. We are Power."

"Do not deceive me," Zaheer rebuked, and Ozai actually respected him for it. "Vaatu has shared the knowledge of the events that have transpired. I know The Avatar stole the air from your lungs; I know he nearly killed you because of it. And that does not include the arm he took with airbending."

The memory of agony assaulted his senses, and Ozai snarled, "For which I will repay him a thousand-fold. With airbending, I will take his penis with which he seduced my daughter."

"And I will teach you," Zaheer promised. "You will know Freedom, which transcends the limitations of Power. Power can only flourish when there is Freedom to know and wield Power; Air allows Fire to exist. Without air, no flame can burn. When there is no Freedom, there is no Power."

"Yet my grandfather annihilated your race," he reminded, temper flaring at the blasphemy. "It was Fire that consumed Air until there was only one left—The Avatar."

"Only because The Avatar stopped my plans," Zaheer dismissed. "And your race needed the celestial advantage provided by the Great Comet, revealing inherent weakness. You must rely on Agni's light, as well—weak. You relied—and continue to rely—on something other than yourselves. But we rely on no one but ourselves. Even though Indra is so weak, even weaker than Agni, I am as powerful as I have ever been, but Firebenders suffer under Agni's diminished state. Air supersedes Fire; Freedom supersedes Power."

Ozai was deprived of speech, too furious to admonish such blasphemy.

"I will credit Fire Lord Sozin, though," Zaheer said, with little respect in his tone. "He recognized his race's inherent weakness—his inherent weakness—and attacked masterfully. His timing was impeccable; it was perfect. He succeeded where I failed. But that was only because I had the misfortune of living during the prime of Keska's reign. Your grandfather's victory had nothing to do with him and everything to do with luck. He was lucky; I was not. Otherwise, I would have crushed the other races, and I would have needed less than a decade, not a century as your race did—and you were defeated still with the incalculable advantages of two appearances from the Great Comet."

The fury overwhelmed him, and Ozai snapped his hand forward, anticipating flames consuming Zaheer, who dared insult him—him! An heir of Sozin! The Phoenix King! The new Avatar!

But instead of flames, a pathetic gust of wind lapped at Zaheer, whose laughter rang in the air. Before Ozai could react, Zaheer whirled around with impossible speed, air surging around them like a tornado, and smacked him back with airbending. It was a crushing blow that Ozai had only before felt when facing The Avatar.

Vaatu had chosen wisely, indeed.

He held his chest, which he knew would show bruises in the coming days. "I suppose I see your point," he conceded—but he would never believe it. He needed Zaheer! He needed that power! And after he had mastered airbending—or as much as he could—and after they defeated The Avatar, he would show Zaheer his superiority—Fire's superiority. Fire vanquished Air before, and he would remind his new airbending master of that fact.

It was a long game within his long game.

How exhilarating if not vexing.

Zaheer stared down at him, a strange smile on his face. "I respect you, Ozai, for we are the same. I challenged Keska's supremacy, and you challenge this Aang, who I understand is much more powerful than Keska."

Ozai stood laboriously to his feet. "Will my challenge end the same as yours did—lost to the Gardens of the Dead?"

"We are in the same misfortune I was against Keska—challenging The Avatar during his prime." Zaheer's face finally showed apprehension. "When I rebelled against the Elders to pave the way for my plan of conquest and glory, I taught those who felt the same as me the ability of true flight, and we killed several Elders and many others who fought against us. They were no match for us in the heavens, even with their gliders, which are laughable in the face of true flight. Gliders only mimic flight, and we destroyed all who stood—glided—against us. But Keska was near—why, I have never been able to figure out—and she crushed my rebellion. I watched the horrors she inflicted against my friends, felt the monstrous power that buzzed against my flesh unlike anything I had ever felt. I fled in terror, leaving the rest of my friends to die under her monstrous power, and I was humiliated. I laid low for several months as my race hunted for me—to bring me to the Elders, no doubt—and I dared not use my advantage of true flight. I never knew if Keska was waiting."

A chuckle escaped Ozai. "You banned yourself from using the ability as your Elders did—ironic."

"It was not banned before my death," Zaheer corrected. "It was thought impossible to access, so knowledge of the ability was lost. But I found Laghima's scroll in which he detailed the ability, and I mastered it—I alone. Then I tried to teach others, but I realized swiftly there was a reason why the ability was forgotten; it is impossible for nearly anyone to master. I estimate that only a handful from an entire generation can do it, and that is with the proper training and understanding, which no one but I—and now The Avatar—know. But I found all who could—a little over a dozen stretching across generations—and trained them and influenced them to my conquest, and in those few days when we attacked our own race, it was the harbinger of greatness; it was glorious. They could not stand against us, even those Elders whom I was taught were beyond us. I suspect that is why the Elders banned the ability after my death—because they saw the destruction wielded by it. They saw how unmatched they were, for they could not master it. The Elders were all about control and despised the thought of those they could never control—like me."

The fact that so few Airbenders could master the ability worried him. "Will I master it?"

Zaheer smirked. "I have tricks to ensure you do."

"Good. How did Keska find you?"

Zaheer's smirk vanished. "It was not difficult. I grew tired of hiding, furious, and flew higher and higher until I was part of the stars. I named each of them. But I was still angry, and I desired revenge. So, I descended from my dwelling and attacked the Water Tribe, killing thousands, everyone I could find. Borne of Water, Keska was enraged when she arrived. I did not see her coming until it was too late. I tried to fight against her, but it was impossible. She smote me with a glowing hand and condemned me to the Maze of Thorns."

Ozai narrowed his eyes. "Water Tribe?" he asked, narrowing his eyes, noting the emphasis on the singular. "The Water Tribes were once unified?"

"In my time, they lived north of the Earth Kingdom and past the Northern Air Temple."

"There was no Southern Water Tribe?"

The pleasure on Zaheer's face was unmistakable. "No. My attack weakened Water forever, for half of the populace split away, creating a new tribe across the world. Even in death, I won. And Vaatu revealed my attack provoked Keska to create the Order of the White Lotus, which you eliminated."

Ozai felt admiration for his airbending master. "So fearful of another attack, they fled. Despite your death, the memory of your power remained. I will share in that legacy. We are kindred spirits, Zaheer."

"And allies," Zaheer murmured, drawing his arms outward, head craned back, basking in the stars overhead. "It's been so long… I remember these stars, the same ones I named. The Four Races have changed drastically since my time, but these stars remain the same."

"That will be our legacy, as well. We will remain while The Avatar and his disciples are swept away."

"Despite this inferior, unnatural body belonging to this weak spirit- "

"She still lives?" Ozai asked, shocked.

Zaheer chuckled. "She is dormant, and I am slowly destroying her spirit, piece by piece. She will never reclaim herself; she will be eradicated. Her will is insignificant next to mine."

Ozai thought it was a fitting ending for a traitor who supported his Zuko, Azula, and The Avatar.

"I will ensure Vaatu's supremacy; I will ensure your supremacy," Zaheer promised, turning back to him, and Ozai found that he matched the smile directed at him. "He promised me a new body, a natural body for myself, after this was over, and I will hold him to it, but he holds to his promises—and I hold to my own. We have the misfortune of fighting against The Avatar in his prime, but we have Vaatu; that is the crucial difference. He resurrected me, gave me a second life, and appointed me as a master to his vessel. You will learn everything I know. Your dwelling will consist of the stars, too. You will be apotheosized."

Ozai basked in such promise and felt his anxiety at the final battle against The Avatar decrease; he felt his chi, felt the foreign energy that Vaatu had left him, energy he knew that only three other living beings possessed. "You will help herald my ascendancy. Once Vaatu and I have bonded, you will be my fist—my worthy general. We will take over everything, and I vow that you will have a real, natural body for yourself."

Zaheer's eyes glinted. "Let's get started."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Having made Prince Sokka chi-block Hama once more, Ursa sat across from their captive and her liberator. They were alone, and for reasons that she knew stemmed from empathy, she wished to obtain her help, to shift her perspective.

"I owe you my life, along with my granddaughter's."

Hama glared at her, uncompromising. "Then you owe me my freedom."

She shook her head. "You know I cannot permit that, for I know what you would do."

"I wanted to kill your husband."

"Why did you not?"

Hama flinched. "Weakness. I couldn't do what you did."

Ursa truly did not want to remember plunging her fire dagger into Ozai's chest. "I am aware. I tried to kill him out of love, to prevent him from becoming something he was never meant to be. I had the willpower, grief, and love to do it—and Vaatu stopped it, saving him. That alone makes Vaatu irredeemable as Vaatu wants Ozai to be something he was never meant to be, contributing to Ozai's misunderstandings. I hate that spirit and wish nonexistence on it. However, what we failed to do, Avatar Aang will accomplish. He will vanquish- "

"It should be me!" Hama snapped, eyes frothing. "I always wanted to plunder the heart of Sozin's line, and when I had the chance, I failed! But now I have the chance again—and against a man I've never loved! Your son is my next target!"

Her golden eyes turned to slits. "If you touch my son, whatever grief you have suffered from my husband will be insignificant next to the torture I will inflict on you. Not to mention what my daughter, my brother, Katara, and Avatar Aang will do to you."

"Don't say her name!" Hama hissed. "That whore doomed me!"

"Did she doom you, or did your actions doom you? I heard what you did, what happened. Using your power to torture innocents- "

"I was innocent when your race invaded the South and butchered my people and then imprisoned me!"

Ursa stared at her. "But you became so much worse than those who tortured you."

"Liar!"

"Stealing one's free will- "

"My free will was stolen from me!"

"But you escaped and regained your free will," she countered. "Then you chose to inflict everything that happened against you to those innocent of anything resembling what happened to you. The crimes of a few, of Sozin and his leading tormentors, are not the crimes of everyone. You had the chance to prove your strength by not succumbing, by choosing to be better, but you descended into that pit. You became a monster."

Hama's lips curled back in disgust. "Spare me, Fire Lady. I don't know why I saved you, but what I do know is that it was a mistake. And when my power returns, it won't be a mistake I make again."

"You kept me imprisoned," Ursa responded after several moments, capturing Hama's gaze. "We could have all escaped. Do you remember my offer?"

"It would have done nothing," Hama dismissed. "Vaatu was there still."

"But because of your decision, my granddaughter was traumatized so much more," she retorted, voice strong as she did her best to fend off the horrible memories of Samir's obvious trauma. "Yet, I am willing to help you."

Hama looked away, but Ursa felt no vindication; she felt tired, and she hated the reminders of the grief Ozai inflicted on her with their unbridgeable separation. And Hama reminded her like nothing else—as Hama was pregnant with Ozai's newest child.

Yet, she was willing to help Hama.

She sighed, voice soft. "Avatar Aang will vanquish Ozai and those who follow him, but you can give us information to- "

"Why would I do that?" Hama's words did not possess the vitality and intensity they once did.

"You can save Ozai from using innocents as he used you," Ursa replied. "He deceived you and used your body for his pleasure without telling you his identity, who he really was. If you had known him, you would never have 'rejuvenated' yourself with him, yes? Perhaps you consider it rape."

Hama flinched. "I was willing," she whispered. "I loved him—I did."

Ursa squeezed her eyes shut. "I know why you did. He is very lovable. However, he has chosen to deny his love to others, such as Samir, hoarding it to himself. You have the chance to stop innocents from enduring the same fate that you did when he deceived you."

Hama finally looked back at her, breathing heavily, quiet for several moments. "I don't know a lot. They didn't tell me much. My job was to teach him waterbending."

"And lay with him," she reminded, unable to help herself. But she had to be careful, knowing of the child growing inside Hama—Ursa's own stepchild, to whom she will be a dutiful grandmother.

"Yes," Hama agreed, ashamed. "I even still wanted him after I learned of his identity."

Ursa swallowed. "I still want him now—I understand."

"It was never rape," Hama whispered. "I loved it way too much—I wanted it so much. It was never rape. I have no experience with it; the guards on the ship when I was imprisoned the first time never wanted to touch 'Water filth.'"

Ursa shook her head, closing her eyes for a brief moment to alleviate the stinging in her eyes, heart anguished at the fact of how Ozai had laid with Hama, though she understood why he did—but it still hurt. "Is there any information you know?"

Hama nodded. "He was going to use your granddaughter as a vessel for a dead airbending master; it was how he planned to learn airbending. Vaatu would pull the spirit from the Gardens of the Dead. But now, I don't know. There's no way they can have airbending."

Ursa reminded herself to tell Zuko to reward Sokka vastly. Sokka had saved Samir from a fate beyond horror. "Anything else?"

"He and Vaatu are going to merge permanently, but… I don't know how," she said, looking away from her. "Vaatu never said. That's all I know."

Ursa nodded, understanding. "Are you sure? Is there anything else?"

"That's all I can think of that was significant. They have Fire, Earth, and Water. There's no way they can get Air now, right?"

"I can conceive of no way without my granddaughter. Thank you for your candor. I request more of it."

Hama blinked, surprised. "For what?"

Ursa watched her. "Why did you save us?"

Hama was quiet for several moments before her eyes looked away, voice soft. "He used both of us; he lied to us both and broke our hearts. If you could stand against him, stand tall and resolute, could do what I couldn't, then I could at least try."

Ursa felt a kinship with Hama. "And you succeeded," she congratulated. "Thank you, Hama, for saving my granddaughter's life, and the lives of myself and the others."

"But you will never give me the reward I seek."

"Did you do it for a reward or because it was the right thing to do?"

Hama squirmed, bitter, and refused to answer.

Ursa laughed, but there was nothing at which she felt amused. "Have you ever considered her position? Katara's position?"

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say, for Hama burst to life in fury.

"She never considered mine!" she snarled, madness glinting in her frigid eyes. "She then condemned me to that life again! She took the presence of the Moon from me! She broke Family!"

Ursa took several moments to reply, thinking carefully. "She had no idea of your connection; she says you did not tell her."

Hama huffed, outraged. "It was going to be a surprise. I was going to tell her that night she betrayed me, but she betrayed me before I could get to it."

"Does the burden of understanding fall to the child or the adult? Katara was a child in a war in which she should have never been involved, nonetheless near its heart. You were the adult, and you had been living free from your torment for years. You should have achieved clarity- "

Hama cackled, madness apparent. "But I did."

"It was up to you to understand her position," she finished firmly. "Will you show grace? Mercy?"

The sudden intent in Hama's gaze made Ursa fearful that the chi-block wore off.

But nothing happened. She was thankful for Lady Toph's—well, Queen Toph's—efforts in molding a large sheet of metal around Hama until only her head was visible; no part of her body, except her head, could move.

"There is no such thing!" Hama snapped. "The Avatar's mercy is why all of this happened! His mercy produced death and evil! He's why Pian- Ozai ruined us!"

Ursa closed her eyes, wondering where Azula and Avatar Aang were; they needed to be all together once again. "Which he understands now as an adult. He is no longer that boy you knew."

Hama scoffed. "I know that all-too-well. I felt his power in the North when he came to rescue you; there is nothing like it. And I saw the consequences of your husband's battle against him. I had to heal him."

"And Katara healed you when she could have refused, letting you die."

"I didn't ask to be healed, least of all by her! I didn't want to remember my failure to kill Sozin's line!"

Ursa knew all the understanding they had reached earlier had been obliterated. "Do you feel no gratitude? Despite everything, despite the fact that you are the reason why Samir was captured at the North and used against me as leverage, I am grateful to you for saving my life—and the lives of the others."

"I am not like you, Fire Lady."

An absurd laugh bubbled in her chest. "Yet did you not save me because you recognized we are alike?"

Hama's neck craned forward as much as it could. "If we are alike, you will let me have vengeance against Katara. I call in your debt you owe me."

Ursa shook her head. "You know that is unacceptable. Your debt was to me—for capturing Samir at the North and putting us in that position to begin with. You paid that debt when you saved us. This is me reaching out as a kindred spirit, not because I owe you a debt. Katara will be the future Fire Lady; my son chose her, which makes her my second daughter now. My loyalty is to her, as both my son's subject and a mother, over whatever kindred connection I feel to you as of this moment. I try to bridge the gap between you and the others, but you must be willing. When Avatar Aang arrives, he will agree with me; I know it. When he learns you saved his daughter's life, he will grant you much." She honestly had no idea if she was lying; Avatar Aang had been through so much, and she could not determine his state of mind. "And if he does not, my daughter likely will," she amended. "You can have a new life. If you help us against Ozai, you can have a new life. You can live again, without being under anyone."

Hama was quiet, interested clearly. "In return for what? My bloodbending? I know The Avatar can take someone's bending."

Ursa paused and thought of the child inside Hama. "I imagine Avatar Aang will have conditions," she said carefully, "and if you meet those, you can live in freedom."

Hama sneered, losing interest. "No. No, no. I'm not losing my bending again. I want Katara."

"What does that do?" she demanded, patience thinning. "It does nothing. You know it does. And I do not believe you hate her as much as Ozai."

"Believe it, as I still have damned love for him, whereas I feel nothing but hatred for Katara! Katara is why your husband was able to get to me in the first place!"

Ursa's temper appeared finally. "Do you take no accountability? You made your choices—horrifying choices—and that is what provoked Vaatu to take an interest in you! It was your actions and choices that allowed Ozai 'to get to you in the first place,' not Katara's. They say you are twice my age, at least, but you act like a child. My granddaughter is more mature than you."

Hama's smile was monstrous. "Well, what do you expect, Fire Lady? She watched and heard your husband 'rejuvenate' you."

Ursa's eyes widened in shock before they narrowed in fury; fire crackled between her fingers as she recalled everything Samir heard, including the truth of Zuko's scar. "My debt is paid right now by not killing you."

A laugh was her response, and it was mocking but genuine. "Of course, so quick to violence. You are of Fire."

She stood to her feet and exhaled slowly, trying to release her fury; she was not quite successful. "You are of nothing, Hama. You have no home, no people, and no race. You were borne of Water, but you turned against them and helped lead Ozai's attack against the North, against the race you once called yours. I have my son, daughter, granddaughter, and I have Avatar Aang, my new son, and Katara, my new daughter. You have no one. You would still have Ozai if we did not save you—because you know he would have never allowed you to die after betraying him. He would have healed you—you taught him how to do that, yes?—and prolonged your agony. Perhaps he would toss your body to his army to rape you in punishment, turning on you his back. He adored me; he still adores me—I am his wife. You were never anything but his whore. And after betraying him? You would experience his violent wrath in the most degrading of ways as he gives you to his army to brutalize all your orifices, each man taking turns and laughing, and you would have no comfort. Your only comfort would be your tears."

Hama's face had drained of blood, but before she could respond, Ursa glided out of the room and continued walking, knowing if she stopped before she found Prince Sokka, she would turn around and do something she would regret—like burning Hama alive.

She exited the inn and found Prince Sokka with Princess Suki watching King Bor and Queen Toph practice earthbending outside of the town. The joy on Queen Toph's face lightened her weary spirit, but she placed a hand on Prince Sokka's arm.

"Chi-block her again," she said shortly.

Prince Sokka's eyes crinkled in sympathy. "That bad?"

Ursa smiled tightly. "Worse. I am still reeling from what she said."

"Well, I can make her be reeling after I smack her in the face," Prince Sokka suggested, looking awkward. "Would that help?"

"She is your grandaunt."

"That makes no difference to me; she's not real family."

Princess Suki looked at her husband in exasperation. "That's sweet of you, but I don't think that would help."

Ursa's smile became more genuine. "I appreciate it, Prince Sokka, but a chi-block will suffice."

"Got it. Come on, Toph! Chi-blocking time!" Prince Sokka said and walked off into the town and towards the inn. Queen Toph followed swiftly, leaving King Bor alone for several moments. He glanced at them, inclining his head before deciding to follow Prince Sokka and Queen Toph.

She watched them go before looking at Princess Suki. "He is a good man."

Princess Suki smiled, hands caressing her prominent swollen belly. "He is. I love him."

Ursa tried to smile, but after all the grief she had endured at the hands of Ozai, whom she still loved, it was forced and bitter.

Sensing her distress, Princess Suki placed a gentle hand on her arm. "I'm sorry you never had this."

She shook her head, emotions boiling inside her. "I did—I still do in almost all ways. We love each other, him and I, but we are separated by a distinction in values. He values himself more than our children, and I value our children more than myself—and more than him. That is the only difference between us; that is what turned our love bitter. We were happy—I know it seems impossible—but we were. He gave me our children, and that alone makes him worthy of all my love."

Princess Suki nodded, quiet for several moments. "Sokka says you still love him."

"I will always love him," she said, needless. "The pain in my heart is not due to his position with Vaatu, though I know Vaatu intensified the divide between us; the pain is due exclusively because we will never be together again—because we perceive our beautiful children differently."

"He said you stabbed him in the chest."

Ursa laughed, but it sounded hysterical to her own ears; it was confirmed when Princess Suki stared at her in sympathy. "You think I did it out of hatred?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense to me."

"It would be easier if I hated him," Ursa confessed. "I should make my love smaller and smaller, but it is impossible. I told him I would remember him with love all my life, not hatred—I meant it. How can I hate him? Truly, how can I? He gave me the greatest things in my life; he gave me the first real family I ever had. I can never know hatred when I think of him. I retain those memories of our youth together and the beginning of our marriage when we were so happy. I am frustrated with and saddened by him, yes, but never hatred. How can I hate him when I remember his kindness? How can I hate him when he shows such tenderness? Even we were kidnapped in his grasp, he was tender; he never laid a hand I did not want on me; he never touched Samir. He was courteous for the most part and loving. It was only our differences in valuing Zuko and Azula that separate us—made us go our separate ways. How can I hate him when he gave me two amazing children, both of whom triumphed over the curse of Sozin's line—and they did it without my help? He gave me the greatest gifts of my life, the greatest times in my life, and for that I love him and will love him forever."

Princess Suki stared at her, disbelieving. "I guess I can understand that. I can't imagine what it's like, but I think I would feel the same if Sokka became like him."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried to blink them away, but they came regardless. "I thought I could convince him to agree with my values; I thought I could get through to him. I am certain if Vaatu were not there that I could get through, but Vaatu was there—there was too much going on. I thought I could make him stop and end this. I never visited him in prison; I wanted to, but the thought of looking in those eyes was unbearable. But because I never visited him, I never knew of the depths of his conviction. I know how he tricked me into murdering Azulon, and I know what Zuko has told me, saw what he did to his face; I have heard what Avatar Aang has said and saw the aftermath of his attack on Azula killed her, but I never saw with my own eyes, never directly experienced it—at least beyond his deception involving Azulon. And that was my fault. I thought foolishly that I had power over him and could convince him to stop. Because he always listened to me and consider my advice when married; he valued my words and honored his promises. Even after everything, I thought I could reach him, reach the man I married—the love of my life."

"I'm sorry you couldn't," Princess Suki whispered.

Ursa's face crumpled as the tears spilled down her cheeks. "So am I."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The fire to find Samir before Vaatu could pull a dead airbending master from the Gardens of the Dead burned ever brighter as more time passed since Indra knew who the best master for Ozai would be. Aang could think of nothing else but finding a signal of either Ozai or his friends. Nothing else mattered—nothing.

The initial determination had evaporated into sheer panic, and he continued to push Appa more than he ever had, trying to do something. He had even thought of entering The Avatar State to force Appa to go faster through terror, but he hadn't acted on that thought.

However, their breakneck pace for three days straight had finally caught up to Appa, for Aang no longer felt the wind rushing through his hair. No matter how firmly he urged Appa faster, Appa only inched forward through the air, barely flying anymore, too exhausted to roar his displeasure and exhaustion.

"We must stop, Aang," Azula said beside him. "You did not even push him this hard when we had to get to the North from the Sun Warriors after the Moon Spirit notified you what was happening."

Aang closed his eyes and nodded. "I know."

"If you healed him, would that recover his endurance?"

He sighed. "That's not how it works."

"We need to rest," Azula urged. "We are all tired, Appa most of all. Night approaches; we will have no visual guarantee of perceiving anything of importance. We will fly blind. For all we know, we could have missed a sign last night and the night before while we traveled."

Appa huffed in agreement, and the exhaustion in his friend was clear through the bond. Momo chirped in agreement, as well.

"I'm taking him down," Aang said.

Azula did not respond.

Appa didn't need encouragement, descending rapidly at an unbearable angle for anyone but an Airbender. Aang held onto Azula as they descended, feeling the tightness in her body, how rigidly she held herself.

He hated it.

But he knew he was stiff, too.

The forest approached swiftly, and Appa landed and collapsed immediately, panting. Aang felt remorse as he hopped off his friend's head and felt the exhaustion through their link.

It was worse than he had thought.

He hissed between his teeth. "I pushed him too hard. I don't think we'll be able to fly tomorrow."

When Azula said nothing, he turned around, concerned, and saw her staring at the cove. Within moments, he understood what had captured her attention.

"This looks like where- "

"It looks like where Father killed me," Azula finished, holding a hand to her chest. She turned back to him, a sad smile on her face. "The same place where Samir first called me 'Mommy' to someone else and was proud that I was her mother."

He swallowed and patted Appa's head before joining his wife. "That's where we made love the first time, too."

Azula's eyes squeezed shut. "Is our daughter gone by now?"

The words struck at the core of Aang's soul, and he pulled her into him, breathing uneven. "Don't say that."

She remained quiet for several moments, held against his chest. "Is it true?" she whispered, voice flat, and it would be an eerie resemblance to the girl of the Great War if it were not for the fact that her beautiful face was stricken with devastation. "We have flown for three days straight and found nothing. We do not know where Vaatu and Father are, and we have seen no signal from Sokka or the others. Is Samir… gone?"

The truth stared him in the face, but Aang could not believe it; he couldn't!

Even if it made too much sense.

Vaatu had Samir, who was an Airbender; Vaatu had secured Indra through threats and ensured airbending, thus giving Ozai airbending, as well; and it wouldn't take Vaatu long to pull a dead airbending master from the Gardens of the Dead and put the spirit in Samir through energybending, specifically with Indra's advice on who would be the best master, knowing her Children, even all dead, the best.

So much death and destruction had already happened—and would continue to happen—because of Vaatu. Why wouldn't that include Samir's life just as it had included Bumi's life—and so many others whose names he didn't know?

Azula was right—Samir was gone.

First, Bumi, and now Samir.

Aang finally found words, the void in his heart growing, gaping wide with all the suffering he had endured; this newest agony was as great and severe as any of the others, second only to losing his race. "I won't rest until I destroy them."

Azula looked up at him, golden eyes weary. "Do not vow impossibilities. You need rest; we all do."

His gaze drifted to the cove that reminded him of that joyful time in which he had officially adopted Samir and confessed his love to Azula, and he remembered the innocence of Samir, who had looked up at him in awe with a shy but mesmerizing smile. The memories overwhelmed him, and he fell to his knees, bringing Azula with him, and she said nothing, holding onto him.

They sat there together, grieving, mourning, but basking in someone who understood. They knew what each other felt, and it was better somehow, just a little. To share the pain was better than rejecting it or holding it to themselves.

Momo chirped, and Aang looked up, watching as Appa roused himself and lumbered to the lake for a drink—a long drink.

There was a small part of him that wanted to blame Appa, who failed to fly fast enough to prevent his daughter's death, but he knew it wasn't Appa's fault, not in the slightest.

Reason instead of feel.

"Reason instead of feel," he whispered. "I think that's why I haven't destroyed the world—and Vaatu with it."

"Me too," Azula whispered back. "I swore to see the world burn to get Samir and Mother back, but now, I cannot fulfill my oath. I feel tired—so tired."

Aang knew it was up to him, and he raised them to their feet. "Come on," he said, guiding her into the cave. "I'll build a fire and get us some food."

"I cannot eat, not now."

"I can't either, but I'm going to try. We can't wallow." He let go of her as Appa lumbered in behind them. He quickly started a fire. "Remember what you told me? Reason instead of feel."

Her golden eyes were old, and the flames from the fire washed over her, emphasizing how weary she looked. "I know its validity, but it seems as valuable as dragonshit right now."

Appa laid down, and Aang pulled them down onto his tail.

"It does," he agreed hollowly, thinking of the last time he had seen Samir. It had been in the North above the Spirit Oasis; she had looked terrified, held under Ozai's grip. She had called to him with airbending, and he had arrived, only for Hama to use bloodbending to slow him down. By the time he entered The Avatar State, it was too late.

He almost envied Azula, whose last memory of Samir was a brief hug and a happy smile, not recognizing the danger of the situation in the North, unaware of her impending fate—unaware that Aang would fail her, that the last she would see of him, her father, was in The Avatar State, enraged.

Her last memory of him would be associated with failure and terror. And she died not knowing that Aang let Indra go with Vaatu.

"I gave them the means to destroy her," he said, unsure why he said it, heart breaking. "There was no other choice to make, but she still died. No matter the choice, the result was the same—death."

Azula jerked and looked up at him, eyes burning. "She is not dead."

"I know you don't want to- "

"I would know," she hissed, glaring. "A mother knows, does she not? I am her mother, even though she is not of my body; I would know if she were dead. I do not believe she is dead; I would feel it if she were."

Aang felt astounded. "You were the one who convinced me that she was!"

"What?" she demanded, and her hands felt hot on his chest. "I voiced a query."

He grit his teeth. "You seemed awfully sure, just short of saying it yourself!"

Azula closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "No. This will not fracture us, not a foolish misunderstanding. I suppose I sought comfort when I voiced it. Forgive me."

Aang sagged and nodded, briefly squeezing her. "Me too. I'm sorry. I'm just tired. It's hard to get my hopes up with everything that's happened. After Bumi- "

"I understand, Aang," she cut in softly. "I am weary, as well."

"This won't last much longer," he whispered. "The Phoenix will be complete in a little over a month. And Koh is defending him against any attacks, hiding him in a new place. This new war is in its twilight; it's almost over. By the Solstice, there should be peace. I hope."

Azula looked up at him. "But will it be a pyrrhic victory?"

Aang thought of all the lives lost, of Bumi and maybe Samir, and the many lives that were snuffed out that he knew nothing about. "Maybe. I don't know."

"But Samir will be part of our victory," she assured, certain. "You hold no faith, which I understand, but I will hold the faith for us both. Samir is alive. I would know if she were not."

"Reason instead of feel," he repeated into Azula's hair, closing his eyes.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Aang was unable to sleep, mind too chaotic and worried, prohibiting rest. However, looking down at Azula, who managed to rest, he wondered if he was punishing himself—because he didn't deserve sleep; he didn't deserve a reprieve; he didn't deserve peace.

Not after he failed and failed and failed—the one trait that described his reign as Avatar across all his lifetimes, none more so than his current iteration. The fact that he had ended the Great War didn't matter because he had failed to prevent the much deadlier and catastrophic new war—the Greater War—heralded by Vaatu.

Guilt was all he knew, and while his chakras were still clear and mastered, he acutely felt the burden - because he was so tired. And his anxious and worried mind fixated on the guilt and mistakes, the failure to stop Vaatu and kill Ozai.

He hated it and knew he was regressing, but there was no one to talk to. He refused to wake Azula, who needed rest, and he didn't think she would understand, not fundamentally as he needed. Their talk on Appa before reaching the first Air Temple and their talk at the first Air Temple were very helpful, but he needed more.

He needed someone who knew the depths of failure as he did.

Conclusion reached, Aang gently removed himself from Azula's arms, careful not to wake her; he stood from Appa's tail and exited the cave, the fresh air gentle and cool. Darkness was prevalent, almost suffocating, but it was a welcome reprieve.

He sat in the lotus position on the ground and clasped his fists together, trying to clear the anxiety from his mind, the splintering chaos. It was a lot harder than normal. But within minutes, he succeeded, and when he opened his eyes, mist coalesced before him, swirling and forming in an ancient pattern only he—and the lives he lived—would ever understand.

"Aang," Roku greeted warmly, voice familiar and comforting.

He nodded his head in greeting at Roku, who sat across from him, but the movement felt sloppy. "Roku."

"I sense your burden, my friend. It is one familiar to me; it is one familiar to all of us." For a moment, behind Roku, all his predecessors—all his past lives—appeared for a brief moment in solemn harmony. "History judges us by our failures more than our successes. None of this is new, Aang."

Aang's face twisted. "Vaatu is different; this is different. Maybe the failure is still the same, but its severity is different. We've never encountered something like this before. Wan did, but this is so much worse. Wan stopped him- "

"Wan held inherent advantages over you," Roku consoled, eyes warm and dependable. "He stopped Vaatu because Vaatu underestimated The Avatar and was not seeking his own vessel with whom to merge permanently. Vaatu considered Wan for less than a moment; he considered you for thousands and thousands of years, preparing for this, preparing for you. The fact you are still standing and have achieved victory over him with the Phoenix is significant; it is remarkable; it is the beginning of your victory."

"I don't know if it will stop him," Aang admitted, glancing back at Azula to make sure she remained in slumber. "He's always had a response to everything I've done; I fear his response to this. Maybe the Phoenix won't do anything; I don't know. And now he has Indra. I gave him Air to save Samir. I know I shouldn't have, that I should have imprisoned Vaatu right then and there, but Samir's life meant more."

Roku's shadowed with sorrow. "You faced an unbearable dilemma. I would have done the same as you. I think even Kyoshi would if it meant her children were safe."

Aang took no comfort from Roku's words. "And I chose to contribute to Ozai's ascendancy and Vaatu's victory. They would have never gotten this far if it weren't for me."

"They would have gotten this far so much sooner, probably within a few months of Vaatu freeing Ozai from his prison, if it were not for your diligence, Aang," Roku corrected, voice adamant but gentle. "You have held steadfast against Vaatu's strivings for close to three years now; he had thousands of years to plan, while you have had three years. I admire your strength and endurance- "

"What does strength and endurance mean when I can't do anything against him?" he demanded, trying to keep from yelling; Azula needed sleep. "I can't track him; I can't even sense him unless he's near, and he keeps taking and taking from me, from this world. I don't know how many people have died because of him; I don't even have an estimate—because it's that many. This is worse than the Great War—and it's only been three years rather than a century! Water is endangered, Earth is endangered, Fire is endangered, and Air is extinct—because I made it this way."

"I do not know the number of people who died during my time, Aang," Roku said. "No Avatar does."

"That's not comforting. We should know."

"Perhaps we should, but that is not our duty. We are to keep balance, which includes death."

"Which includes Bumi's death and Samir's death," he added softly, pain flaring in his heart.

Roku shook his head, sad. "You are so young for one of us, Aang. This should have never been your burden. My reign did not start until I was almost thirty; yours started when you were twelve. I am sorry about your friend. And your daughter, I understand—I know the pain of losing a child."

Aang looked up, startled, and, to his shame, relieved, as he recalled what he learned at the North. "Your son was assassinated by the Children of Chin."

"Yes," Roku whispered, face gaunt. "I never knew until you learned it, but it brings me no peace or closure. There is nothing like your child. When you are old upon death, it is normal and acceptable; it is right. But when a child dies, it is monstrous; it is horrifying and wrong. I lost my son when he was a boy, and I thought it was an accident—I never knew the truth until you learned it. I thought it was no one's fault—except mine. I blamed myself and considered it my failure, a failure that any parent dreads more than anything else. When the elderly die, the past is lost; when children die, the future is lost. My boy's death significantly aged me, as you can see, and my commitments as Avatar suffered. My mourning contributed to Sozin's plans and my failure to listen to his pleas—I ignored him because I was grieving, not wishing to deal with all the complexity everywhere. I was a coward."

Aang looked into Roku's heavy eyes—a heaviness he knew shone in his own—and felt a kinship he knew he would feel with no one else, not even Azula. "I'm sorry about your son. I fear that is Samir's fate."

Roku's face was solemn. "You will never know until you receive confirmation, whether alive or dead. Until then, you must fight; you must do what I could not. I aged decades in days, which included my mental willing to do anything—you cannot allow it to happen to you. You must fight, Aang."

"You died young—very young—for us," he murmured. "Part of me envies that; part of me wants to stop and rest forever and join Gyatso, Bumi, and everyone I ever knew—join Samir if she's gone."

"Our journey is never over as others understand life," Roku responded. "My journey is your journey, just as Kyoshi's journey was my journey, and just your journey will be your successor's journey, whenever that is. Death is not the end of our story, only the beginning of the next chapter, and all our chapters are interconnected in ways we do not realize during our reign, only the reigns of our successors."

"But to stop forever would be to desert those I love most now," Aang said, gaze drifting over Azula's slumbering form. "I will never do it, but I do feel the urge. I feel it a lot, especially now. Part of me wants to give up rather than fight."

"That was exactly my mistake," Roku confessed. "I gave up after my son's death. I did my duties, yes, but it was the bare minimum, enough of a feeble effort to delude myself into thinking I was The Avatar I should be. But I was almost as bad as Kuruk—I believe that. I stopped fighting, and the world paid the price. I was borne of Fire, but I lacked the will to fight. You, Aang, borne of Air, have shown more will to fight, particularly as a man, than I did."

Aang's laughter revealed itself in a huff. "I think that's more from being married to a Firebender, an heir of Sozin nonetheless."

Roku shook his head. "You fought to end the Great War; you fought before your marriage to Azula. You hold more spirit than I ever did. I am unsure if that is due to Gyatso's instilled resilient rebellion in you or not, but you are different from me in the best of ways. You continue to fight when no one else would. Your losses have strengthened your will to victory; you are determined to stop Vaatu and kill Ozai."

"They have all the elements now, but I don't know how they will merge permanently. I don't know if I can kill Ozai, no matter how much I want to. If I kill him, I may condemn the world to two Avatar Cycles."

"Perhaps that's what the Tree of Time meant about balance being achieved," Roku suggested. "Whatever happens, the world will never be the same, and you cannot go back to what was. Everything will change. Perhaps there will be two Avatars, who battle in every life for the fate of the world and his reign is only ever ended when the other Avatar vanquishes him, or perhaps another solution will reveal itself to you when the time is right."

Aang nodded, taking several moments to respond; he had already reached the same conclusions. "What would you do?"

Roku laughed, and it was genuine. "I am not the right Avatar to ask that question. You sought me out for failure; you must seek another Avatar for war."

Knowing he was right, he inclined his head in farewell. "You're right. Thank you, Roku."

"I am here always, Aang," Roku said with a kind smile before he dissolved in mist and rushed back into Aang.

He inhaled deeply for several moments before glancing at Azula, who still slumbered. Within moments, he summoned Kyoshi.

"Avatar Aang," she greeted imperially.

Aang sighed. "Avatar Kyoshi."

"You seek advice for war."

"Not exactly. You know the situation."

"I do."

"If Vaatu and Ozai merge permanently, become a rival Avatar, what are my options?"

"My instinct is to kill him."

Aang closed his eyes, wishing he felt surprised. "Even if it starts another Avatar Cycle, which would condemn the world to conflict and alternating between peace and chaos with each reign?"

Kyoshi didn't blink. "Yes. We will have the strength to dismantle this pretender in all his lifetimes."

He shook his head. "I'm not willing to do that."

"Because you are weak, Avatar Aang. This is your fault. If you had not been emotional and killed Ozai as I had advised, this would not have happened."

He grit his teeth, tempted to banish her. "You're the one being emotional and not thinking it through. Vaatu was always going to break free, and he would have chosen someone else as his vessel, and there were plenty to choose from. This was always going to happen. You can change the form, but you can't change the nature. I'm not willing to kill Ozai and Vaatu when they are merged permanently because Roku showed that not all Avatars will fight, and I don't want to live another life where I don't fight, surrendering the world to a lifetime under the other Avatar. He just confessed his failure to me. Whatever I choose to do will have repercussions for all-time."

Kyoshi's face stretched into a small smile, looking impressed. "You have matured wisely. I commend you. Perhaps you are worthy of our power when so few are."

"And only you can make such a judgment," Aang assumed.

"Indeed."

He wondered if any of his other past lives were so arrogant. Thinking of Kuruk, he realized Kyoshi was pretty tame—and at least she did her job, however severely after she failed to stop Chin the Conqueror at the beginning.

And married him, nonetheless.

"There's nothing else you can tell me?" he asked.

Kyoshi stared at him. "Whatever you choose to do, Avatar Aang, whatever the effects of your decision, it is yours. But know that the consequences—for there are always consequences, especially for something so monumental—will never align with your perception. There always will be something you failed to foresee. You can try to anticipate the consequences, but it's only an anticipation, an idea based on the past. Maybe you anticipate correctly, but most, if not all, of your anticipations will be for naught. Time is ruthless and reveals the deficiencies in all your plans. Maybe you will be lucky like Kuruk and Roku, and the deficiencies are revealed in your successor's reign, or maybe you will be unfortunate in that the deficiencies are revealed in your reign—and all the ire of the world is directed at you for failing to foresee those deficiencies."

Aang was beginning to better understand Kyoshi. "No matter what I do, I damn the world."

"Yes. Our decisions have consequences we never imagine." Kyoshi looked old, so old, even beneath the paint on her face. In fact, the paint almost seemed to exacerbate it. "I had many consequences, Avatar Aang. So many. When my reign started, I thought the world was simple and understandable; I thought everything would be okay. You know about my marriage to Chin."

He nodded. "Yes, Jinzhai told me."

Kyoshi's face shuddered. "It broke me; it changed me. I thought I had everything figured and worked out—I thought I understood everything. But my mind changed when I saw the truth, and it hurt so deeply; I saw the consequences of my actions that I never foresaw. Those consequences were obvious in hindsight, but the decisions culminating in those consequences are never made with foresight—because foresight is impossible, even for The Avatar. I loved Chin, but I had to kill him. There was too much. And killing him had consequences I never imagined in my children, who disowned me as their mother, wanting nothing to do with me. I thought I could explain to them and make them see, but I never could, which I never thought possible. My children hated me all their lives because of what I did—Earth hated me for all my life because of what I did in helping Chin originally, taking full part in the conquest. No matter what I did, I could never win, even when I saw the truth and tried to make amends for what I did. Then there were Kuruk's innumerable mistakes, for which I paid, and his mistakes only got worse no matter what I did. I know the pain of failure in creating the Dai Li, who desecrated everything for which I—we—stand. And there was so much more, so many consequences. Even I contributed to the Great War because I put pretenders on the thrones of Ba Sing Se, Omashu, Zaofu, and Chyung, and all these pretenders looked to legitimize their reigns and create a legendary history for themselves by forcing Sozin into the Great War—their selfish decisions have their roots in my decision to help Chin. We murdered the legitimate lines of the Earth Kings, and after I killed Chin, I had to go back and make solutions to all the problems, but many of the solutions were not long-lasting. But all my consequences centered around the decisions I made and didn't make. There are always more decisions you don't make than make—and the ones I didn't make were a lot bigger than the ones I did make. I died with a broken a heart, Avatar Aang—all because I never realized the consequences to my actions until it was much too late. As Avatar, our burden is beyond the conception of others, even the most powerful of benders, even those inducted into the Order of the White Lotus; as Avatar, the world is what you make it, and only your successor understands the depths and consequences of your decisions. You may do the right thing, Avatar Aang, may make the right decision, but then there will be consequences that you never imagined. I made the right decision in killing my husband, but it was at the cost of all future happiness for me, as my children despised me for all my life. There is always a consequence."

Aang swallowed. "I know. Sparing Ozai to end the Great War showed me that. It was the right decision for me, specifically, at that time, but there have been consequences I never foresaw. I didn't think there would be any consequences to sparing him—such is the naivety of a child. I miss that."

"I do, too. But that is the cycle, and there will be no changing it. There are always consequences. The world is an intricate place, even for The Avatar, perhaps especially for The Avatar. Each nation has customs and traditions that belie the others', and we must keep everyone satisfied if not happy. And if a dreadful situation arises, the situation is always levied on our shoulders, even if the fault lies elsewhere."

"You had a hard life," he whispered in compassion; he finally understood Kyoshi.

Kyoshi nodded, green eyes old and sad. "I did. We all do. But your life, what you have endured at such a young age, is impressive if not horrifying. Over the entire expanse of my reign, I did not face what you have faced in the ten years of your reign so far. They will sing songs about your prowess."

"I always thought we were different," Aang confessed. "I didn't like you—I really didn't like you."

"I know."

"I refused to look deeper and think and be honest. Because then I would have seen that we are alike. Maybe I always feared how similar we are, how similar The Avatar is with each life he lives. All the forms are connected, born of that nature—somehow the same."

"Except Kuruk, of course," Kyoshi said with small mirth, delighting in condemning her predecessor, who caused her much torment and strife.

Aang chuckled. "Yeah, except him. Thank you for your advice, Avatar Kyoshi. You've given me much to think over."

Kyoshi inclined her head. "I wish you luck, Avatar Aang. As long as you fight and strive, the world is what you make it, and not even Vaatu can take that from you. He cannot win—because he suffers from a lack of vision. His gaze, while intent and powerful, is narrow. He cannot perceive a world unlike that which he perceives, and he is not Time; he cannot perceive All. What he perceives the world to be will not the world become."

"Thank you. Farewell, Kyoshi."

"Farewell, Aang."

Aang felt the mist rush back into him, and the anxiety in his mind, while still there, had lessened quite significantly. He knew Samir may be dead; he knew that the future remained uncertain; and he knew this time was a time of decline as Vaatu ravished the world. But he also knew that he could have peace—because he would fight and strive to do everything in his power to stop Vaatu and end the new war.

He knew there would be consequences no matter what he did, but he sacrificed that anxiety, snuffing it out—because it did nothing.

The Tree of Time knew what it was doing, no matter how infuriating it was. For whatever reason, Vaatu and Ozai were meant to obtain all of the elements.

It had yet to be revealed if they were meant to merge permanently. But Aang would abide by whatever Time wanted.

Peace washing over him, or as much peace as he was capable of feeling, Aang stood to his feet, knowing the peace wouldn't last, and entered the cave, hopping onto Appa's tail; he reclined next to Azula, who opened her eyes.

"Did you find the answers you sought?"

He blinked in shock. "You knew?"

"I missed your warmth," she said simply. "When I looked up and saw you outside the cave speaking with Roku, I knew not to disturb you; you needed it. I suspect you needed someone else's advice besides my own."

Aang shook his head. "It's not what you think. I value your advice- "

Azula laughed, and her gaze was fond. "What advice is mine next to The Avatar's? Next to one of your past lives, who understand your burden on a fundamental level, whereas I understand it on a secondary level? I am not surprised; I am only surprised you waited this long to contact one of them."

He marveled at her understanding. "Two, actually. I spoke with Kyoshi."

Her brows rose, intrigued. "You are calm rather than disgruntled. Did she grovel and express regret?"

"I understand her now," he explained, pulling her to him as he rolled his eyes. "She was ruthless but pragmatic—because she learned to be. She didn't start out that way; she was forced into a corner of an ever-growing chaotic and unfeasible situation that there was nothing but ugly, hard solutions for, which could only add problems in the long run, making stress and pressure."

"She was Chin the Conqueror's wife," she recalled, interested. "She had to kill her own husband, which alienated her children. It must have broken her heart."

"It did," Aang confirmed, understanding Kyoshi—feeling sympathy and pity for the first time. "That's why she became so hard and ruthless—because she would never have survived otherwise. She became jaded because of it, because of the decisions she had to make—and the consequences she faced as a result. It's just like me. I've had to learn all this—like Kyoshi had to learn it all. I understand that; I understand it more than I was comfortable admitting. I can be more ruthless than anyone; Ba Sing Se exemplifies it. And I must be pragmatic to end this war. As a boy, I never wanted to admit that I was like her; I think I almost hated her—such was my stubbornness in honestly looking at myself and assessing my actions. But I'm no longer that boy."

Azula's fingers drifted over his chest. "You are not," she agreed. "I would shoot lightning at you if you were."

"Again," he added in amusement.

The regret was tangible in the air. "Again," Azula whispered. "Although, I think it more likely you would catch my lightning rather than be harmed by it. You are fully realized."

Aang ignored her words and remembered the Great War. "I didn't understand the world nor myself; I didn't understand The Avatar's burden. I was hurting, and I threw myself into mastering the elements to distract myself from the pain, the bitterness, the helplessness. That's why I mastered everything I could after the Great War ended—I was doing the same thing over and over again, avoiding and evading like an Airbender. I couldn't face it, not as a boy."

Azula's lips pressed against his neck as she sighed. "I was the same. In the asylum, I plateaued because I could not face the truth; only when I met you, 'Kuzon,' on Ember Island did my journey begin. And it culminated at the Eastern Temple with Pathik."

"I hope he's alright," he whispered, thinking suddenly of the possibility of Pathik's death. "There are some things I need to ask him about Air's culture. I'd rather ask him than read scrolls."

"You will have the chance," Azula promised, rising on her elbows to gaze down at him. "We are not losing anyone else."

Aang's gaze shadowed. "Roku told me his son died young."

Azula stared down at him for several moments, and to his worry, he couldn't decipher her expression. "Samir will not share Roku's son's fate, Aang."

"Is that an impossible vow?" he asked softly.

Her face pinched in displeasure. "I believe she is still alive; she must be. If a new spirit invades her body, Samir will fight, and she will endure."

Aang closed his eyes; the semi-peace he had once vanished. "Against an airbending master? Samir wouldn't have the will to fight."

Azula's hands came up and cradled his face, fingers pressing into his beard; she leaned closer, hypnotic eyes snaring his gaze. "She has the will. We raised her to. She is strong. She will never surrender, no matter her young age. She is a fighter, even against an airbending master devoted to Vaatu."

He smiled, though it was false; he didn't believe her—because he knew how strong his race was and what their spirits were like. "I know," he lied, realizing in his heart that Samir was dead—it was the only explanation since she was still with Vaatu and Ozai.

He blinked and sat up suddenly, startling his wife. "That's it," he breathed out, awe and relief surging through him as he stared at her. "You're right. I gave her part of myself; I used energybending to give her airbending, and her chi copied mine, making us connected because of it. I would feel it if she died, or if her chi was being marred. I've felt nothing to suggest that… she's gone."

His wife nodded, proud, unknowing of his lie, unknowing that his heart was breaking in his chest, and tears were caught in his eyes, sobs stuck in his chest. "Our daughter is our daughter, Aang; she would never give up because we have never given up."

Aang swallowed, feeling ashamed. "I know."

"After everything you have lost, particularly King Bumi's loss you just learned about, I believe it is understandable."

He collapsed back on Appa's tail, exhausted, trying not to reveal his state—because if he revealed that he knew Samir was dead, he feared that Azula would break. If she broke, he would break—and possibly break the world with it. And based on Roku's grim warning, he couldn't let that happen. "We need to find her," he lied, voice drifting as he tried to banish all thoughts of Samir from his mind.

It was impossible as he heard her laugh in his ears and saw the vivid gray color of her eyes—and the brilliance of her innocent, joyful smile, beaming up at him with a flushed face.

"It is still night," Azula reminded, lying down next to him.

Aang felt Appa's energy and was grateful. "We could leave if we wanted to."

"That would be unwise."

"We should go, but… I can't, not now," he whispered, closing his eyes, breathing in the moment, feeling the way her body molded against his. "I'm so tired. It feels nice, just being like this."

It was all he was capable of doing, knowing that Samir was dead.

"It is necessary," Azula added.

"We need this."

"We do. We have not had a moment's peace nor rest since the Sun Warriors."

"Feels longer. A lot longer." He opened his eyes, connecting her gaze to her golden one. "Since Ember Island."

Azula nodded, beautiful eyes hazy in remembering. "That was a long time ago. Things were simpler then. When we met, we both presumed Father imprisoned and possessed no knowledge of Vaatu."

Aang marveled at such simplicity—simplicity he had known but could barely remember. "I can't wait to go back there when all this is over."

But he wouldn't ever be able to take Samir there—because she was dead.

Azula perked up, staring curiously, almost hopefully, at him. "You hold faith we will vanquish him?"

"Something Kyoshi said to me."

Azula raised an inquiring brow. "Do tell."

He swallowed and remembered Kyoshi instead of Samir, though it was hard. "She said Vaatu won't win because of his lack of vision; his perception is narrow. He's spent thousands of years mastering this plan, but some plans can be too perfect, unable to account for resilience in the most unlikely of ways. 'How Vaatu perceives the world to be will not the world become,' she said, because his perception is not All. His perception, despite the length of his gaze, is limited. Only the Tree of Time perceives All, not Vaatu, not me, and not Koh. I never thought Kyoshi would revive my faith, but she did. She had a tough life, and I understand that. We understand each other."

Kyoshi lost her children, like he lost Samir—and like Roku lost his son.

"I like her," Azula praised. "If half of the legends I have heard of her are true, I like her more. Perhaps you will give me the chance to speak with her some time."

Aang's brows rose as vague amusement settled inside him. "That's a terrifying thought."

She smirked and smacked his chest half-heartedly. "A gift to your wife is terrifying?"

"It's not the gift," he defended, a small smile stretching his lips. It was better to pretend that everything was okay than dwelling on Samir's death—it was too much! "It's the particular recipient."

Azula raised a solemn hand. "I swear on my honor to utilize such a gift for good."

"According to whom?"

Delight danced in her eyes. "Well done, Avatar. That boy would have not caught the ambiguity."

Those words catapulted him to the past, and Aang laughed softly, the mists of anxiety and grief nowhere to be found —for now. "If the Boy knew he'd one day give you, Princess Azula of Sozin's line- "

"And Avatar's wife," she added proudly.

"- the chance to share a conversation with Kyoshi, he probably would have made a new iceberg to escape such a reality—such would be his horror. Not to mention his shock."

Azula smirked. "I would have melted that iceberg."

"And taken advantage of me."

"If only that had happened," she said with a regretful sigh, amusement clear on her face. "The possibilities."

Aang smiled. "I would have been terrified of you."

A brow rose. "You are not terrified of me now?"

His amusement faded as he was reminded of his actual terror—because Samir was dead. "Reason instead of feel," he said simply.

Azula remained quiet for several moments. "I understand. When all this is over, there will still be much to do."

Aang shook his head. "I know, but I need a break. Before I met you, I just wanted a vacation, which led me to Ember Island. At least I got some time off with you before all of this. After this, I want another vacation with you. At least for a little bit. I think the world could use it, too. I have a feeling that people will be sick of The Avatar after having two of them battle for dominion over the world."

"But they will always know who the legitimate Avatar is and who the pretender Avatar is."

"That's what Kyoshi said," he recalled. "She called Ozai a pretender."

Azula hummed. "Now I must speak with her."

"But I fear he's more a contender than a pretender," Aang confessed. "I won't underestimate him. I know better than anyone what it means to battle with all the elements under your command. The advantages are…"

"Innumerable," Azula finished.

"They are. I never saw it as a child, but now I understand."

Azula leaned up to look down at him. "Speaking of children, I have thought about what Indra mentioned."

"Which part?"

"My lack of pregnancy."

He frowned, thinking of Samir—he had to stop thinking of her, or he would go mad! "You want to be pregnant during all of this?"

Azula glared briefly before it faded. "No. I am thankful I am not. I cannot imagine how frantic you would be if I were."

Aang swallowed, perceiving the possibilities, especially knowing that Samir was dead. "I can."

"But we must plan. If I am to provide you Air's revival, we must- "

"Later," he promised. "We'll get to work after all this is over."

Azula smirked. "A fun kind of work. The most fun. You will grant me the seed of your loins."

Aang pulled her to him, feeling her breasts press into his chest; it was enticing and exhilarating—so much better than any thoughts of horrifying grief. He couldn't deal with the grief! "I think I've granted you a lot of that already. It's a miracle you haven't fallen pregnant."

"Indeed. But you shall grant me more; if I may be so amorous, my womb years for it."

A small laugh escaped him. "After all this is over. We'll have that fun kind of work."

She sighed, but she looked unsurprised; she stared at him for several moments. "Miracle is an apt observation. It is a miracle that only Suki has fallen pregnant. I suspect Zuko and Katara have engaged several times since they started at the Sun Warriors, and our own activities have been frequent and consistent—at least before Father's invasion of the North."

Reality crashed around him, and Aang closed his eyes. "I'm looking forward to our vacation; I look forward to peace; I look forward to more Airbenders."

He was alone again because Samir was dead.

"We will have many children, I know; we must if we are to succeed. But I do want a few of our many children to be Firebenders."

Aang didn't blink. "Of course. But they must know that when they have children, they may have Airbenders—it's possible."

"Do you want sons or daughters?"

"Both," he responded, catching her curious gaze. "Sons will make rebuilding a lot easier, for they could have many children—many Airbenders—a lot quicker than daughters would. And I'd understand them. But I want daughters, too, even if I'm not sure I'd understand them."

Azula's brows rose. "How so?"

"The first girl I ever actually knew was Katara and then Toph. Then it was you, Samir, and your mother—and Mai and Ty Lee. I don't have much experience with girls beyond that. I've seen Katara and Toph go crazy, like they would claw your eyes out; you were insane and hunted me across the Earth Kingdom with Mai and Ty Lee; and your mother murdered the Fire Lord himself and, if I may be so blunt, loves and is in love with Ozai. Every girl I've ever known—besides Samir—has been crazy, or done crazy things, at one point or another. I don't understand it; I am but a sheltered monk."

His wife nodded, an expression of enlightenment on her face. "That is a worrying pattern, but you do well with Samir."

Aang swallowed, trying powerfully not to flinch—because he would never do well with Samir as she was dead. "But that's the pattern I've witnessed."

"I do not think that pattern is accurate exactly. All those girls, me included, were raised during the Great War. Samir will not be, and our children will not be. This new war with Vaatu is almost over. And we will win. There will be no other war after this."

"There better not be," he murmured.

"I think it will be different with Samir. She will know peace and balance; she will know stability. You are already an excellent father to her."

"And you're a great mother," Aang added, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

She was a grieving mother who could not grieve—because Aang lied to her and said he believed Samir was alive even though it was obvious that she wasn't.

Regret flickered across his wife's face for a brief moment. "Well, I do worry. I do well with Samir, but what of our other children we will have? I am not exactly conventional."

Aang tried to smile; it felt cracked and frayed, almost blackened to the core with heartache. "We have a shared foundation; that's what matters. I don't think my wife could ever be conventional. Otherwise, I would have married Katara."

Azula laughed. "An absurdity not fit for The Avatar. She balances Zuko out, and I balance you out."

"And that balance will trickle down to our children. They will learn their heritages from both of us, for they will be your children as much as mine."

Her golden eyes lit up. "I will give them the Fire Royal education while you transmit to them the Air Nomad teachings; I will teach them knowledge, and to them you will convey wisdom."

"I think we both have some wisdom to share with them."

"Regardless, they will be knowledgeable, wise, and excellent; they will be elite. The children of The Avatar and Fire Princess deserve no less."

Aang nodded after several moments. "We can decide later on. But yes. Our sons and daughters will be okay; they will be."

They had to be—he couldn't have more of his children die, like Samir!

"You will be an excellent father to both your sons and daughters, Aang. Your experience with Samir attests as much."

He clenched his jaw so hard that it ached. "I hope so."

"If it helps, no daughter will resemble me," Azula said, words spaced in consideration. "I am who I am because of Father. Unlike me, our daughters would not likely resemble my disposition since they will not have Ozai for their father."

Aang closed his eyes, the thought of Ozai souring his mood. The anxiety returned swiftly—with the speed of the wind, in fact. "Whatever happens, we'll deal with it."

"If we are to deal with it, you must rest," Azula encouraged. "Let your dreams reveal the answers to you. I know you have not slept in days."

The exhaustion came at her reminding words, and he tried to fight it off. "No. We need to leave soon. Appa will- "

Azula's hands were firm on his chest, pushing him down as he tried to rise. "I will wake you when we need to leave."

Aang collapsed back on Appa's tail and nodded; slumber came swiftly.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Zuko watched as Katara's glowing hands hovered over Suki's swollen stomach. "They're strong and healthy, and yes, they're Waterbenders."

Sokka grinned from ear to ear. "Yes! Yue made sure of it! Now the North can't reject me!"

"She was looking out for us," Suki said, smiling. "We've been blessed."

Katara removed her hands, and Zuko helped her to her feet. "Congratulations," she gushed. "You'll make great parents."

"Well, you're gonna have a kid soon enough," Sokka reminded, and Zuko closed his eyes, still coming to terms with that; he needed to speak with Katara about it, but they needed to be alone. "Speaking of, how do you plan to tell Hama?"

Zuko glanced at Katara, hoping he conveyed correctly his need to speak with her alone without saying the actual words; he wasn't sure he was successful. "I was thinking that we could eliminate almost all of the danger she poses to us and the child if by taking away her bending when Aang gets here."

"Perfect!" Sokka sagged in relief. "It's nerve-wracking having her here, knowing that she could use her bloodbending to kill all of us if the chi-block wears off before we're ready. I've done it three times today, and each time, she looks at me like she'll eat me if she had the chance. I believe she'd do it." Sokka turned to Suki. "Do you think I would taste good?"

Suki frowned, unimpressed. "Why would you ask me that?"

Sokka puffed up in pride. "Because you've tasted me—and you did so last night."

Zuko pinched his nose while Katara gasped. "I don't want to hear that, Sokka! It's enough knowing how you two became parents!"

"Do you think Aang will be willing to take her bending?" Zuko asked, cutting in.

It worked, for Katara frowned. "I don't know."

"What?" Sokka cried out in dismay. "Why not? But that's what Aang did! He did that to Ozai!"

"And look at the result," he reminded. "He came back stronger than before. He may fear the same thing happening with Hama."

Suki's face pinched. "I don't know. That's the rule, but this may be the exception—because he's The Avatar."

"He's The Avatar," Zuko agreed. "Rules that apply to us don't apply to him. He makes his own rules. But there's also more to energybending, I think."

Katara peered at him, curious. "Like what?"

"Aang was a kid who was alone," he began slowly, trying to find the words of his thought process ten years ago. Then, he had been terrified for Aang, but he had also been terrified for the Fire Nation. Not to mention he had been terrified of becoming Fire Lord. "He had no one. Even if we like to think he had us, he was still alone—because we couldn't imagine what he was going through at that young age. Not even Toph, who was his age, could. Everywhere he looked, everything he gazed at, was different from when he was born. That world was stolen from him because of Vaatu, but he was a kid who was so hurt that the rage rarely surfaced. He was a boy rather than a man, and looking back now, it was the ultimate mercy that I can think of. I used to think otherwise—we all did, I know—but it was better that he was just a kid rather than an adult. Because I always feared there would be a reckoning one day. Back then, Aang was just a twelve-year-old boy who distracted himself at all times from the fact of his existence—alone and the last of a dead world. If he thought about it, truly thought about it, for even a second, it'd kill him. It'd send him into a rage that could destroy the new world that had stolen his world from him. So, he didn't think about it; he refused to. It was clear to see."

Katara's eyes shadowed with sadness. "You're right."

Zuko sighed in amazement and sorrow. "So, he threw himself into mastering the elements, distracting himself with the impending arrival of Sozin's Comet; he didn't have the time to think about his loss. Thankfully, he didn't have that luxury. If he had, he would have never beaten my father. But all of that was on his mind when he faced Father, especially when he was energybending. But for energybending, based on what I heard Aang explain to Azula, the mind must be clear and pure and true, and I know that Aang's mind was none of those things when against Father, especially since he wasn't truthful with himself about what he was dealing with. It must have overwhelmed him; I don't know how he did it."

"He's The Avatar," Suki said quietly.

"The exception to the rule," Zuko repeated. "But after the Great War was over, Aang did have time to think about it all, to obsess, and I know it was all he could think about for years. Why else is he so powerful? He did the exact same thing after the war—threw himself into mastering the elements to distract himself from his loss. It was the same solution. But then it didn't work, and he was no longer a boy. He was maturing into a man. And he isolated himself, making it worse. I never feared the retribution of a boy against Fire," he admitted, ashamed, "but I did fear the retribution of a man, of an adult Avatar who is fully realized. I kept in contact with him by writing him letters as much as I could- " Katara winced beside him, and he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "- but I'll admit that it was always on the back of mind. And I was never sure if I was going to try to stop him and fight back if he did decide to finally take the vengeance he's owed."

Sokka looked solemn. "I think Jet's plague solved that."

Zuko nodded. "I know, but that's not why I bring it up. Aang was grappling with that loss while fighting Father, and he was alone. All of that, everything, including the fact that he was a boy and Father was an intense and driven man, ties together somehow in a way I can't express adequately. But right now, Aang is dealing with so many other things, and unlike last time, he is aware of all of it. I can't help but wonder if he would annihilate Hama on accident with energybending instead of just smothering her waterbending. He could go too hard—because he has to go hard for everything else. His natural state right now is to 'go hard.' We'll wait until he gets here, obviously, but we have to prepare for him to say no. We have to keep chi-blocking Hama and may have to keep chi-blocking her until the child is born."

"I guess," Sokka grumbled. "But I'm tired of chi-blocking her by myself. I want someone else in there with me besides Toph. She's fucking terrifying. Not even Toph could take her if it came to it."

"Then take Suki with you and go chi-block her again," Zuko dismissed, tired of the conversation. He needed to speak with Katara.

Katara smacked his arm half-heartedly while Sokka glowered at him. "I'm not taking my pregnant-with-waterbending-twins wife to that bitch! She may try to corrupt our twins or something through waterbending!"

"Not if you chi-block her."

Suki closed her eyes and shook her head and grabbed Sokka's arm. "I think what Zuko is tactlessly trying to say is that he wants to be left alone with Katara."

Zuko gratefully looked at her in silent thanks.

Sokka puffed his chest out and pointed a finger at him in stern warning. "Don't be making any new babies. We've got enough—and that doesn't include Samir, who's still a kid."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Noted."

Thankfully, Suki dragged Sokka away before he could say anything else.

Katara pointedly raised a brow at him when they were left alone. "I think you could have done that better."

"I don't care."

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. "Did Sokka's question to Suki about if he tastes good make you sick, too?"

He chuckled softly, but he didn't feel much mirth; the anxiety was too much. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

The burning sensation inside him flared. "You got your wish. You're going to be a mother."

Katara winced. "It's not exactly what I had in mind- "

"It was my idea," he admitted grudgingly.

"It was a good idea," she countered, raising a challenging brow. "It was a kind idea; it was the right idea. You know it. I understand that you're scared, but- "

Zuko scoffed. "A Fire Lord doesn't get scared, least of all of a fucking child."

Katara smiled, amused. "Sozin, Azulon, and Ozai—all Fire Lords—were terrified of Aang, a child, for an entire century, remember?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not the same, and you know it. I thought I would have more time."

"I understand. We haven't really had a chance to talk about this," she said softly, gazing up at him. "We're going to be parents."

"We are."

"And parents to Hama and Ozai's child," she whispered, eyes amazed. "I mean, this is big; it's huge. This could have- "

"Consequences," Zuko finished quietly. "It will have ramifications for not only us but the entire Fire Nation."

Katara sighed. "I think I know how Fire will react, but how will they react?"

Zuko considered it. "They won't be pleased," he admitted. "Fire Lord Houka was killed in a mob because his heir was born of an Air Nomad woman. And that son was Zyrn, who was an Airbender, like this child will be a Waterbender."

"But this child won't be your heir like Zyrn was Fire Lord Houka's heir," Katara challenged, and he was impressed that she remembered the story. "You'll make that clear to everyone. No one is going to expect him to sit on the Dragon's Throne."

"I don't doubt your ability; I doubt the strength of this plan. I know we're the best equipped in the world to handle Hama and Ozai's child, but this reeks of going wrong—disastrously wrong."

Katara shook her head. "I have faith it won't. We'll be good parents, and we'll raise him like we will raise our other children."

Zuko wished he held such faith, he really did. "Do we tell him the truth?"

She paused, face twisting in uncertain sadness. "I don't know," she whispered, morose. "Hama hates me; she's family, my own grandaunt, Gran-gran's sister, and she hates me. I don't want her child—our child—hating me because of it."

"It's not you I'm worried about."

Katara sighed. "I can see that."

His good eye widened. "No, that's not what I meant. You'll be fine because you'll be a great mother; you're already great as it is, and you'll adapt easily."

"You're going to be a great father, Zuko. I know you're scared- "

"So, the child will know he won't ever be heir," he interrupted, hoping she'd drop that line of thought; he really, really didn't want to discuss that. Katara didn't look happy, but she didn't interrupt as he continued: "But he will be raised a prince; he is of Fire royal blood, of Sozin's line. Maybe we tell an abridged version when he comes of age; tell the bare basics. Thankfully, Hama and Father will be dead, so they won't be able to corrupt him, swaying him to that dark inheritance. But there's still so much that could go wrong."

"Fire will accept," Katara assured. "I believe that. Do you?"

Zuko nodded slowly. "I think they'll accept it, yes, but it may take a while. It honestly depends on how long this war against Vaatu takes—and not to mention Jet's plague. I think all the races want peace, and if peace means undertaking this deception, it's worth it—even if it may go wrong."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's your problem with it? Your real problem?"

He clenched his jaw. "Raising my brother as my son- "

"Or sister as your daughter," she added gently.

"I'm thinking of the worst-case scenario," he snapped, temper sparking. "It's how I'm wired."

Katara wasn't affected by his temper; she only shrugged. "Okay. What's your real problem?"

"Raising my brother as my son seems wrong. The age gap is large; it's even bigger than the gap between Uncle and Father."

Katara's beautiful eyes lit up in understanding. "And you think, somehow, that this gap will make him Ozai reborn—because you think you'll fail like Iroh did."

"I guess," he muttered. "It just feels wrong. Two of Ozai's children beat the curse of our blood against all odds—and that was with Mother's blood in our veins. I don't see how this newest child of his will beat the odds, especially with Hama's blood in his veins instead of Mother's, which includes Roku's."

"You're setting him up to fail," Katara pointed out, tone irritated. "We will counter whatever curse you think is in his blood. He will also have a much better childhood than either of ours; there will be no conflict. There will be peace and balance."

"Knowing our luck, he'd try to ruin it and revive the Great War or somehow ally with Vaatu."

Her blue eyes tightened in displeasure. "Are you going to be his father or his executioner who condemns him to his fate?"

He scoffed. "What kind of question is that?"

Katara placed a hand on his arm. "No. I need you to answer; you're avoiding it."

Zuko's fists clenched, and steam hissed between his fingers. "Azula and I barely made it out, and we had to sacrifice and take so much until we came out the other side—and that's with Roku's blood. But this child has none of that. Do you know what I had to do? I had to admit to myself that I was the villain." He watched Katara's eyes widen, but it did nothing for his temper. "It was me who was the monster, not The Avatar, who we were taught as children would wipe out the entire Fire Nation by just looking at it. We were taught that he would slaughter every man and boy and all the elderly, and then that he would take all our women and girls and try to revive Air through them. That's what we were taught—that The Avatar was a slaughtering and raping monster unlike anything us mere mortals can imagine."

Katara looked sick but enlightened. "I understand."

Zuko shook his head. "No, you don't. You had the luxury of always being in the right; you were on the right side from the very beginning. I thought that I was on the right side—and Azula did, too—but I wasn't; we weren't. That was crushing. I felt like death when I realized it. Everything I ever did, every decision I ever made, was wrong. It was a lie. Everything I believed—and believed in—and prided myself on was a fucking lie that got so many people killed. I had to look myself in the mirror and admit the truth—that I was the bad guy and the villain of the story. No one, I mean absolutely no one, wants to be the villain of the story or deliberately chooses that title. Not even father thinks himself the villain; he thinks The Avatar is the villain who deserves destruction—and same for Vaatu. But I realized that I, including Father and everything I had ever, throughout my entire life, believed—was the villain, and it was horrifying; it was monstrous. And I didn't want to be the villain, so I forced myself to change, and it was work; I had to work to change. And that was so fucking hard, and, if I can say it, rare because most people don't change. But I put in the work and changed my perspective and outlook; I abandoned my post as heir to the Dragon's Throne, and I renounced Father to his face before joining the Gaang. My entire worldview, that which I once thought was invincible and cohesive and sensible utterly, was shattered, but I picked up the pieces and made a better one until eventually, I found the right worldview—helping Aang and defeating Father. I did all of that; I had to do all of that—because I realized that I was the villain."

She looked up at him in amazement, beautiful eyes roaming his face. "I think if that's what you had said when you met us at the Western Air Temple, we would have all trusted you immediately."

He wasn't going to let that praise distract him, although it felt nice. "But Azula and I did change—and that's with the curse of our blood. Because we had Roku's blood, we were able to change. But this child possesses none of the redeeming qualities of Roku's blood like me and Azula did. I don't think he'll be able to do what we were able to. He won't be able to put in the work like I did and Azula later did. Two children of Ozai beat the odds, which is astronomical, but three? I don't see how another child escapes that curse, especially without Roku's blood."

"What about Iroh?" Katara challenged. "He doesn't have 'the redeeming qualities of Roku's blood,' Zuko."

"That's different," he dismissed, annoyed. "Grandmother Ilah was a good woman who tempered Grandfather Azulon's worst traits; the Fire Nation flourished during their marriage. Uncle has her blood."

"I think you're emphasizing the blood too much," Katara said after several moments. "You sound like Aang with Azula when he was going of his mind. Blood doesn't make you who you are. You're not predetermined to a fate just because of whose blood is in your veins. You have a choice, and you have a choice in this, Zuko."

"What are you talking about? I've already made my choice. I said I'd raise him, and I will."

Katara shook her head. "No. This goes much deeper than that. This child will look up to you as his father—yes, even though you are his brother. But you are connected to him in ways even more than I will be, and he will sense that connection to you, who he thinks is his father. Whereas I'll be just his cousin, you'll be his brother—he'll know that strength of connection; he'll feel it. What will he see when you look at him? Will he see disgust? Judgment? Fear? Condemnation? You worry about his fate and the curse of his blood, but maybe you will make him express the curse and live such a fate by the way you treat him."

"That's insane- "

"Will he see what you saw when Ozai looked at you?"

Zuko sprang back as if burned, memories erupting in his mind, and he closed his eyes, recognizing that she was right, but it did nothing to lessen his fear.

"Ozai gave up on you," Katara continued gently. "Will you give up on this child? Iroh never gave up on you."

He laughed, but there was something broken in it. "I shouldn't have chosen a Fire Lady so perceptive."

Her eyes were soft as she approached him. "I shouldn't have chosen a Fire Lord so complicated."

"I'm not going to be my father," he swore fervidly, something like desperation rising inside him.

"No, you're not," Katara agreed, cool hands brushing across his bearded cheeks.

"I don't want to be like him."

"I know."

Zuko's breathing wavered. "But I don't know how not to be. I'm afraid I will be like him, and then I'll condemn my brother—or sister—to the fate of our cursed blood."

Katara smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll be here to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Mother once thought the same," he whispered painfully.

She pulled his head down and kissed him slowly. "Iroh will also be there," she whispered against his lips. "He'll probably get him hooked on tea."

Zuko frowned. "I really don't want to think about Uncle while kissing you."

Katara laughed and a smile split her beautiful face. "Me neither. But we make a good team, don't we?"

"We do."

"We'll make sure this child will be good. I have faith, and I need you to have faith, too. Maybe not as much faith as me, but you need to have faith all the same—because we're a team, and we'll put in the work."

Zuko couldn't look away from her mesmerizing eyes. "He'll turn out okay."

And he believed it.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Ozai refrained from snarling as his connection to the air was so weak; weak gusts were all he could unleash, and no matter how he centered himself, nothing improved.

Zaheer floated before him, peering down at him with those gray eyes he once recognized as Ty Lee's; now, they were a lot different. "You lack spiritual understanding."

"I understand enough," he defended.

"Then manifest your understanding."

"You're a terrible teacher."

"You can refine shit, but it is still shit," Zaheer dismissed. "It is your fault."

Ozai's eyes narrowed in fury. "If Vaatu were here- "

"He would agree with me. I can teach you everything I know, but the burden lies on you to accomplish the tasks I lay before you."

"I need a teacher who will show me what he means," he snapped. "No wonder the Air Nomads were wiped out! They knew nothing of action!"

Zaheer glanced at him, unimpressed. "I could kill you."

"And face Vaatu's wrath?"

"I've already faced the worst agony—the Maze of Thorns. I fear no fate Vaatu can deliver."

Ozai felt his respect rise, even though he was furious. "What must I do? I must be untethered as you are to face The Avatar!"

For the first time since Zaheer had overtaken Ty Lee's body, he tethered himself to the earth. "I am tethered now, but the connection remains. You must start at the beginning. Feel the air around you and inside you; feel the currents and eddies that supply life to all; feel its ubiquity, for it is the most ubiquitous of all the elements. An Airbender can fight anywhere, even above the ocean against a waterbending master. There is no place where we are at a disadvantage." Zaheer stared at him almost harshly. "I know you perceive Air as weak due to Fire Lord Sozin's luck; no more. Dissolve such arrogant notions, for they will not help you. Remember what I did to the Water Tribe—a lone Airbender slew thousands of Children of Water, Waterbenders and non-benders alike. Their homeland did not help them; it was insignificant next to the might I wielded. If you continue such a mindset, you will never be a Master of Wind, nonetheless of Air; right now, you are a Master of Nothing."

Ozai seethed, but he knew Zaheer was right. He knew firsthand how powerful airbending was from The Avatar's airbending attacks against him. "What do you suggest?"

Zaheer tilted his head, thinking for several moments. "You are borne of Fire. I know Firebenders look inward for their connection- "

"Yes."

"But you are looking outward like a Waterbender."

Ozai hissed in realization. "Of course. I must look inward."

Zaheer shook his head. "You must do both. Look inward for the connection while grasping the outward connection. I believe it is similar only in that regard to earthbending."

Before Ozai could say anything, Vaatu appeared in a haze of shadows, but he was alone.

"Have Agni and Devi reformed?" he demanded.

"No," Vaatu divulged.

"And the Phoenix?"

"No. Koh would sense me from afar."

Ozai's fists clenched, and he was unable to keep from looking around in anxiety. "And The Avatar? How close is he?"

Darkness emanated off Vaatu in pleasure. "Worry not, my friend. I bought us more time. The Avatar is looking for us; I know he is. He is frantic and enraged, and he would have found us if I had not distracted him."

He admired his ally more and more. "What did you do?"

"I sent a force to capture his gaze while we elude it. Innocents will die, and he will not be able to stop himself, even with the promise of his daughter's death—or so he believes."

"Foolish morality," Zaheer chided, looking disgusted. "He is just like the Elders I so despised. Borne of the old Air Nomads, indeed."

Vaatu seemed to purr. "Our ascendancy is the result of his morality. We must thank him, Ozai."

He stood taller. "By taking everything from him."

"Indeed. I have a plan to secure invincible soldiers for our army, ones that The Avatar and his allies will not be prepared to face."

Ozai frowned, glancing at the mass of Chin V's kinsmen who had been spared Hama and Ursa's wrath because they had been away—and his own wrath. "And you're waiting, why?"

"If The Avatar gets word of what I do, he will figure out my plan and stop it from happening. I must wait until the opportune moment. Time is our enemy and our ally right now, Ozai."

"Then we must expertly wield our time," Zaheer said, expectantly staring at him. "Control the air, Ozai; wield the wind."

He closed his eyes and got to work.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Agni's dim light shone and provided as much illumination as possible while weakened, and Azula wondered if the Phoenix was tenable. It almost seemed too good to be true, but she trusted Aang's judgment. He sat on Appa's head, guiding them as they traveled further; his posture was tight and burdened, equally so to the previous days after they surrendered Indra to Vaatu.

Despite his obvious thoughts that he successfully deceived her about believing Samir was alive, she was not fooled; she knew he thought Samir was dead but was pretending for her sake to spare her madness.

She loved him for it.

Azula knew she operated on faith rather than reason, rejecting her own claims to Aang, but she could not conceive more harm to befall her daughter. And Samir was strong; she could stand against whatever threatened her.

She tried to force herself not to think of those innocent airbending children slaughtered by Sozin and his armies.

To prevent her mind from obsessing, she breathed small fire out of her mouth, the warmth of her flames a brief reprieve from the weight of dread.

During the Great War, she had been convinced of Fire's victory, but they had lost. Now, she was convinced they would win against Vaatu and Father. Did that mean they would lose? Would history repeat itself?

It was certainly cruel enough to.

"The Solstice draws near," Aang said suddenly from his position on Appa's head.

Azula moved closer to him. "It's two months away."

"I have a feeling."

"Meaning what?"

"As the Solstice approaches, the divide between the two Realms will weaken but the energies will increase. I'm afraid of what Vaatu may do if the Phoenix isn't ready by then. I fear what he's done already during the past Solstices, but I have no idea what he could have done."

"But he will be done by then, yes?"

Aang glanced at her, resigned. "He should be. I hope so; I really do. But so much has gone wrong that I'm not sure if something will happen. They may attack Koh, wherever he is, again to delay the Phoenix."

"Koh will let you know if that happens."

"What if he doesn't?" Aang asked, frustrated. "I would stay this entire time in the Immortal Realm to make sure the Phoenix is safe, but I can't. I can't leave you all against Vaatu because he'd capitalize on it. No matter what I do, I leave myself—and all of us—open to attacks."

Azula recognized he was regressing and sighed, dropping her forehead to his shoulder. "Do you trust Koh?"

"I trust he will do what's right for balance."

"Which means the Phoenix's safety."

"Yes."

"If you trust Koh, trust him," she urged. "Have faith in his strength. He is the Face Stealer, after all; he is one of the Great Spirits. He will ensure the Phoenix's safety."

Aang nodded, but she was unsure if he was convinced. "Do you know how to defeat him?"

She blinked, lifting her forehead from his shoulder. "You mean…?"

"Vaatu," he clarified, voice flat.

"I thought you were going to imprison him in the Tree of Time again," Azula said.

Aang tensed. "Something tells me that won't work again. And even if I did drag Vaatu to the Tree of Time, I don't think the Tree of Time would let me do it." He shook his head, angered. "Something It said when I spoke with It. It wants true balance."

"What does that mean?"

"That I need another solution."

Worry churned inside her, and her mind raced with possibilities to defeat Vaatu, but there were no answers that she could conceive!

"Did you ask your past lives?" she demanded, frantic.

Aang glanced at her for a moment, but it was enough.

Dread turned into fear. "What did Roku say?" She knew it was Roku, for Aang had been pleased with Kyoshi—a shocking development.

He hung his head. "He suggested that there will be two Avatars who fight in every lifetime. He thinks that is the only solution. It means balance. It's the suspicion I already had, and he only verified it. Now I think it's the conclusion."

Azula gripped his arm tightly, horrified. "You cannot let that happen."

"I know!" he snapped, looking anguished. She hated that the brief peace he had obtained in the cave while they rested was gone. "I don't want the world to be a trophy to alternating Avatars! But I don't know what to do. All I know is to fight. If that is the solution, it will be the inheritance I leave my successors."

She marveled in horror at such a possibility. "That cannot be what the Tree of Time means."

"Who knows? It showed me the truth when It sent me back," Aang said, voice drifting curiously. "Maybe this is the truth It wants—two Avatars. Maybe it is."

"It cannot be," she said, certain.

Aang looked at her, and he looked terrified. "But It was right about me and right about the world I came from. The old world I idealized is not the world that was—same for my race. It took me a long time to accept, but that world was a lie in a boy's head who grasped at the familiar in a time of chaos and confusion and horror. My race was the victim of their own failures and sins; it had nothing at all to do with Sozin. And even if I changed it, it was always going to happen. The form could be changed, but the nature couldn't change. The Tree was right. I went back and saw it; I felt it. I hardly know anything about the world now, even as The Avatar, for the world is an intricate place, as Kyoshi told me. And I'm a man now. How could I have possibly known anything about that old world as a boy? I was in a state of perpetual childhood, seeing only a beautiful and comforting lie."

Azula tried to visualize that old world, but all she knew was what Aang had told her and the bare information from scrolls in the Dragon Bone Catacombs. "It was painful."

"Yes," Aang affirmed, ancient eyes holding her in place. "There was nothing more painful, but it turned out alright; somehow, it turned out better. We'll rebuild Air and make sure they don't fall as they did before. I could never see it for a long time, but I did see it eventually. I saw the rightness in the Tree's decision—I understand why it all happened and why it was necessary. Maybe I'll see the rightness in having two Avatars. Think how much we know today compared to yesterday and the day before; now think how much we'll know tomorrow and the day after. Our understanding is refined constantly, but the Tree's understanding needs no refinement. It's perfect. If It wants two Avatars, there will be two Avatars, and yes, there will be nothing more painful, but somehow, it will turn out alright; it will turn out better."

She remained quiet for several moments, ruminating on such a conception; it made sense, she could admit. "You do not believe that."

"It doesn't matter!" her husband exploded, the air warping around them; it felt much warmer, and she basked in it. "I don't want it, but that's not good enough, is it? I need to visit the Tree. There has to be another way that I'm just not seeing. There must be."

"The Tree of Time permitted the Great War to restore balance," Azula said, spacing her words in consideration. "If balance was restored by the Great War's end, why has this new war superseded its devastation, not including Air's murder."

Aang closed his eyes. "Because there is no balance; there are only three races. And Fire has been reduced drastically due to Jet's plague. And the Air is gone. Really, everyone's gone. Water's endangered, Earth's endangered, Fire's endangered, and Air is extinct. No matter how you look at it, the world is unbalanced fundamentally, and the Tree wants it to be fixed somehow. Two Avatars fighting could force the world to get better and adapt, to stop making the same mistakes."

Azula shook her head. "No. It is a compelling argument, but I refuse to believe that two Avatars results in balance and a greater good."

He stared at her, gray eyes flat. "My race's slaughter was for the greater good, and I had to let it happen. Maybe I need to let two Avatars happen even if I don't want to."

"You believe that is the Tree of Time's plan?"

Aang bowed his head, tired and ashamed. "I wish I didn't, but I fear that it is, and my belief gets stronger with each passing day."

"Then take me there," Azula demanded, sitting tall. "Right now. Take me; take me to It. Take me to the center of the Spirit World to ridicule the Tree of Time for It's absurdity; I will express my displeasure at It's nonsensical plan. If that is the best It can do, I doubt It's permanence since the Beginning. I will use energybending and shoot lightning at It until It deigns to reveal It's pathetic rationale. Then if It ceases to change It's designs, I will have you attack It's roots until sap flows." She leaned forward, holding his astonished gaze. "And you know I am very persuasive. You will wound the Tree of Time for me."

Aang's eyes were wide, so wide she was unsure if they could widen further, and he opened his mouth but snapped it shut, leaning forward. She followed his gaze and stiffened.

There were raging fires in the distance; smoke spiraled into the air.

"An attack," she whispered, thoughts about the Tree of Time vanishing; she watched Aang with careful eyes, saw the struggle on his face, how he was pulled by two forces—finding Samir or helping those innocents below.

Azula made the decision for him. "Drop me off, and I will help them and tame the fires," she said quickly. "You go find the others, unleash calamity on Father, and rescue Samir. We will find each other- "

"No," Aang cut in, shaking his head. "I need to do it."

"Samir needs you more than me right now," she defended, refusing to fight him—it was absurd! "I know you think she is dead, but she is not! She lives, and you can help her exceedingly more than I can. The Avatar is always more important than a Fire Princess!"

Aang stood to his feet on Appa's head, impervious to the powerful, roaring winds as Appa continued flying; his gray eyes connected to her own. "No. You need to take Appa and go. I'll stay here and deal with all this. If Vaatu did something- "

"Then it is a trap meant to delay you from finding Samir because she is still alive!" she interrupted, raising her voice.

He looked away from her. "Maybe, maybe not. But it's my duty."

Azula's fingers curled into Appa's fur in helpless fury. "I cannot fight Father, nonetheless Vaatu, Aang!"

His gaze snapped to her, eyes darkening. "I won't delay any of it because you are going in my stead. Keep flying. This shouldn't take me long, and I will be quicker than you. Stop arguing!"

She noticed finally how desperate his eyes were, and she relented. "I will find the others and, if you have not caught up to me, take them with me to find Samir."

Aang relaxed in relief. "Thank you. They'll see Appa and signal you, wherever they are, so be on the lookout. Then I'll catch up to you. Don't worry—I'll find you."

Azula surged to her feet and pulled Aang's head down, snaring his lips in a quick but heated kiss. "Ensure you do, Avatar."

He placed his forehead against hers for the briefest of moments. "Hold me to it."

"I intend to," she promised.

Aang pulled back and floated off Appa's head, gaze drawn to the wild flames down below; she could now see villages in need of help, and she felt regret that she had argued with him. "Now go," he said. "Find the others; I'll catch up. I'll take care of all this. Go! Appa, yip-yip!"

Appa blazed faster, and Azula watched Aang dive toward the earth.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He ran as fast as he could, Mommy's command echoing in his ears—but it was close to being drowned out by all the screams and chaos around him. Jouri didn't know where he was going, but he had to get away.

These monsters hurt Daddy and Mommy!

The fires burned around him, so hot and so scary, but he tried to be brave and keep running, drawing as big of breaths as he could so he could keep running. But he was tired. Jouri panted and looked behind him but shrieked when he saw one of the monsters running after him.

He tried to run faster, but he tripped and fell to the ground. Jouri turned onto his back and tried to back away, but the monster was so close.

He screamed and pushed his arms forward, and thankfully, flames came out—but the flames weren't big. They weren't anything like he had seen some of the other Firebenders do.

The monster grinned and reached toward him, and Jouri gasped, eyes slamming shut.

But nothing happened.

He opened his eyes and saw the monster getting up from far away, disoriented; in front of Jouri was a pillar. It had launched the monster away. Jouri blinked in awe, looking for a sign of Daddy, but there was nothing.

But there was a man dressed in orange and yellow and red across from the monster.

"You want to steal a Firebender's chi?" the man said. "Steal mine."

Suddenly, a ball of fire appeared in the man's hands, and Jouri gasped as a sensation swept over him; he wanted that fire. It called to him! It sang to him! The heat was so warm and so pure, he wanted everything. He had never felt anything like it. It was so powerful and beautiful. He wanted it more than anything.

The monster howled in ecstasy, staring at the fire in the man's hands; suddenly, other monsters appeared, drawn to the fire just like Jouri felt himself drawn to it. They wanted it like he did.

Did that mean the fire was bad?

"Such energy," one of the monsters whispered, shaking in anticipation and amazement. "Such power. It will be mine. It will all be mine!"

Jouri gasped in awe as the heat from the fire in the man's hands increased impossibly and blanketed over everything; he could feel it! It was singing in his blood, and he wanted such power.

"Then take it," the man goaded as more and more monsters appeared from everywhere.

Suddenly, all the monsters—there were so many that Jouri couldn't count them all—rushed at the man, and he shrieked, trying to warn the man, but the man wasn't doing anything to stop them, merely holding the fire in his hands.

But right before the monsters destroyed the man, the man suddenly disappeared from sight, and Jouri blinked in shock; he watched as all the monsters suddenly dropped into the earth, only their heads visible.

But the monsters screamed in rage and broke out of the earth.

Jouri had never seen anyone with such strength, not even Daddy. He looked around for the man, and saw him drop onto the ground, and the entire area shook, and Jouri gasped as he tumbled over from the power. He barely saw the monsters tumble, too, but they did.

The man appeared behind one of the monsters in a blur of color and placed his hands on him. The monster collapsed to the ground, not moving.

Was he dead?

Then the man spun around and slashed his arm through the air in an arc; the wind howled and smashed into the approaching monsters. Before they could get up, the man squatted and stretched his fingers while stomping his foot. Suddenly, the ground turned into fire-water, and Jouri had never seen anything like it.

It was so warm—so hot!—but it looked beautiful. The fire-water seeped toward him, and he reached out, wanting to touch it, but before he could, the man ran across the fire-water and picked him up, strong arms embracing him—it was like Daddy!

Jouri looked up at the man, but the man wasn't looking down at him; he looked behind him, and Jouri gasped as fire shot out of the man's forehead, causing explosions to ring in his ears, disorienting him.

When he opened his eyes, the man's face was staring down at him; it was intense and determined. Jouri felt safe. For the first time since those monsters appeared and attacked everyone, he felt safe. Suddenly, the man jumped into the sky and walked on the winds, and Jouri had never seen anything like it.

"You're safe now," the man said, eyes looking over him, and Jouri hugged him tighter, shaking.

"It's scary," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. "It's so high."

"You'll be okay," the man whispered back. "It's alright. You remind me of my daughter."

"Is she a Firebender, too?"

The man chuckled, but there was something wrong with it. "An Airbender."

Jouri nodded, nestling into the man's warmth; it was so nice, and he was drawn to it. "Where is she?"

"Not here."

"Okay."

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"I'm Jouri," he said.

"My name is Aang."

Aang? Where had he heard that name before? Jouri frowned and blinked before he realized. "You're The Avatar!" he shouted, proud that he figured it out.

The man—The Avatar—nodded. "Yes."

Jouri snuggled into his warmth, feeling it soothe him. "My daddy hates The Avatar."

The Avatar was quiet for several moments. "I understand that."

"Where are they? My daddy and mommy?" he asked, fingers picking at the fabric of The Avatar's clothes.

The Avatar's sigh ruffled his hair. "I'll find them."

Jouri believed him.

XxXxXxXxXxX

No matter what he did, Haru failed to erase the image of Ty Lee being thrown into Fire Lord Ozai's camp. How could he erase the last image he had of his lover, even if it was so horrible? He needed to remember her. Not even watching Bor and Toph spar was enough of a distraction, although it was a good one.

Maybe he was punishing himself because he hadn't told her he loved her.

Why him? Why Ty Lee? Why did he have to lose her? Why were the spirits so ruthless that they singled him—and her—out? Why did Sokka get to keep his wife and find out he was having twins? Why did Ursa still have Samir and her children? Why did Samir still have her grandmother and her parents—and everyone in the group who would help her?

Haru knew he shouldn't feel such bitterness towards his friends—or, really, family since they were all he had left—but he felt raw. And nothing he did helped. He had wanted to talk to Sokka about it, but he knew he would feel crushing guilt if he did.

They would all hate him if they knew what he felt.

Haru winced as Toph laughed loudly, digging her healed feet into the ground as she punched through one of Bor's boulders.

"You gotta do better than that!" she called out with a wild grin. "I take shits that are bigger than that boulder!"

"You take a dick that's bigger, too!" King Bor yelled back.

Toph hooted. "Fuck yeah, I do!"

Haru closed his eyes, the bitterness growing, especially since they were married now. Their ease with each other and joy despite everything grated on him. How could they be so relaxed? How were they so happy?

It infuriated him, and he was so close to ruining their happiness, but he knew he was at fault, not them.

He couldn't blame them for their happiness over their change in fortunes since they had all been reunited and Toph's feet had been healed by Katara using her gift of Spirit Oasis water for her help in saving the North.

Jin, the rightful Queen of Chyung, sat near him, just as quiet as he was as she watched King Bor and Toph. He took a moment to stare at her. There was a sadness in her face, one he recognized in himself, and he saw the same inward anguish seething inside her.

Why them?

Everyone else, no matter the horrors they faced, still had someone who loved them, but they had no one. Before she was taken from him, all Haru had was Ty Lee, but she was taken from him. From his understanding, all Jin had was her husband before he was killed right in front of her.

Suddenly, Toph walked towards him, face curious. "Snoozles told me that you were looking for me before you connected with his group. He said you wanted me to help you become a master."

Haru blinked. "That's right."

"You want to start now? I'm about to go over metalbending with Bor. He's hopeless without me."

He thought about it for several moments before shaking his head with a stiff smile. "I'll watch."

Toph shrugged, but he glimpsed an understanding on her face; she didn't press. "Okay. Pay attention."

She walked back to King Bor, and he didn't follow her command; he thought about Ty Lee and what he would have done differently if he had known the inevitable. Why didn't he fight harder against Fire Lord Ozai and the Children of Chin? Why hadn't he been clever or cunning? Why hadn't he been ruthless and slaughtered everyone he could? Ty Lee deserved life more than any of them! She was amazing and kind!

At least Hama had killed all of them except Fire Lord Ozai. For that, he owed her a debt; she unleashed vengeance when Haru had been unable to.

He would respect her for it if he wasn't so terrified of her.

His attention was drawn by King Bor hissing between his teeth, fingers flexing as a metal block, shaped by Toph, slowly expanded under his control.

"Yes!" Toph shouted, punching her fist into the air. "You're a Metalbender!"

King Bor grinned and stretched the metal even further, twirling it in the air. "I had a fucking awesome teacher."

Toph grinned back. "Let's investigate the 'fucking' part, Husband." Then she pulled King Bor, who dropped the metal, away to the inn, where Haru knew they would, indeed, investigate thoroughly.

It made him think of Ty Lee. But then again, everything made him think of Ty Lee.

"You did not accept Toph's offer," Jin said, curiously staring at him. "I thought you would want the distraction."

Haru knew she understood, so he shrugged tiredly. "Distraction only gets you so far. Maybe it's good to face it every once and a while."

Jin's face was tired but knowing. "By yourself?"

"Who else knows better than me?" he challenged, raising a brow; he gestured to where Toph and King Bor had sparred. "You think they would know? You think anyone here would know? I lost the love of my life, and she didn't even know that she was the love of my life because I never told her. Everyone else's been reunited. They still have something to look forward to—a future."

"Children," she supplied, understanding; she looked off into the distance. "Everyone will have children with their loves, but we will not."

Haru closed his eyes. "No, we won't. For all I know, she may have been pregnant when she was killed. We were… doing it a lot."

"Thryn and I tried to have children, but I never carried any of them to term," Jin said, voice hollow. "My cursed womb poisoned all of them, killing them before they could experience life."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, unsure of what else to say. "It must be hard seeing Suki and… Hama."

Jin's smile was sad. "It is. I know the stories of this Hama. Sokka has been vocal about it, and Katara, too, to a lesser degree. Why can she bear children, even after everything she went through? Why is her child not only alive but thriving after she was nearly dead while my children died when I did everything right and stayed healthy? Why? She should lose her baby as I lost all of mine. She does not deserve the title of Mother."

Haru thought of the determined and happy gleam in Katara's eyes when she and Zuko had decided to raise Hama's child as their own. "She doesn't," he agreed, "but the child does deserve to have a good mother. I think Katara more than suffices."

She sagged. "She will; I know. She is a kind and generous woman. The Fire Lord is blessed to have found such a wife."

"They're not married," he pointed out.

"They will be," she dismissed. "A woman knows these things. But I resent their happiness, for my happiness with my husband was tarnished. My last experience with Thryn was watching that animal murder him." A sharp glint appeared in her eyes. "I am glad King Bor killed him; I wish I would have."

Haru nodded. "I wish Hama had killed Fire Lord Ozai; I wish she would have crushed his heart before Vaatu saved him."

"The more time passes, the more my bitterness grows," Jin confessed, ashamed. "I am most fond of Suki, but my resentment lingers in my heart, and no matter what I do, it remains. How can I call her a friend when a part of me, much bigger than I am comfortable admitting, wants her to experience the pain that I did? What kind of friend am I? I am horrible. My only consolation is that she confessed to me that she and Sokka have been trying to have children for seven years. Thryn and I had only tried for three years. But it is still horrible—taking solace in my friend's hardship and wishing she would lose her twins as I lost all my babies."

He scooted closer to her, shaking his head. "You're grieving; you've been through a lot."

She sniffed and wiped away tears he had been unaware were there. "That is a pathetic excuse. We have all been through a lot. I do not like The Avatar, but I am reasonable enough to know that his torment has exceeded my own; I know the stories of what he has endured."

Haru stared at her, astonished. "You don't like Aang?"

"I do not like The Avatar," she said stiffly, looking away from him.

Did any of the others know? If not, how did none of the others know?

He remembered the boy Aang had been during the Great War; that was his only understanding of Aang until he met the mature man he had grown into, The Avatar. Remembering the horror what Aang had done to Ba Sing Se, he supposed that not liking—that even hating—The Avatar was understandable.

"Well, I think that's different," he responded slowly. "Aang is different from all of us."

Jin's eyes were red-rimmed. "I did not have my feet scorched by lava, and I was not blinded; I did not nearly die from an infection and think I was dying with days to live."

He looked around, making sure no one was nearby. "Do you resent that she was healed?"

She sprang back, face twisting as she refused to look at him. "Of course not."

Haru stared at her, feeling a connection, a shared understanding. "I do," he whispered, watching her gaze snap to his, shocked. "I do resent that Katara was able to heal her feet. I'm really glad that she was healed, yes, but why only her? That's what- "

"It was an individual gift rather than a collective gift," Jin finished, face open with emotions. "She lost so much when the Butcher blackened her feet with lava, and I lost everything when Thryn was taken from me. But Toph still had King Bor and Suki; I had no one. I had to be rescued by King Bor, and it was only his grace and kindness that have resulted in my being here. But I lost more than she did, did I not?" she asked, eyes roaming his face in desperation; the tears thickened in her eyes. "Why was Thryn not brought back to me? Why was Katara not there in Ba Sing Se to heal him with that special water?"

"And why not Ty Lee?" he added, voice lowering. "I feel as you do. I'm bitter that Toph was healed of what harmed her while I wasn't. I still have to live with the pain from losing Ty Lee."

"And I with the pain from losing Thryn."

He was thankful there was someone who understood him. "It's hard watching everyone be happy and relieved and joyful while we have nothing to feel joyful about—besides the fact, I guess, that we're alive. But it's a poor consolation to what we've endured."

"Yes," she whispered, face scrunching. "I feel isolated around everyone else; they would not understand."

Haru shook his head. "I think they would understand, but I refuse to feel guilty about feeling this way—because if I did talk with any of them, I would feel guilty. I can't think of Ty Lee with guilt."

Jin looked at him. "I wish I could do that."

He sighed. "It must be the Earthbender in me."

"Maybe."

A comfortable silence descended over them, and for the first time in a long time, the silence did not irritate him. It wasn't peace, not at all, but it was… alright. It wasn't unbearable; it was bearable.

"You're going to be a queen after all this is over," he said eventually. "Congratulations."

"If we win," Jin responded, voice quiet.

Haru leaned back, considering her. "You doubt The Avatar?"

She shrugged, but there was a sudden tightness in her posture that he didn't understand. "I cannot say." Her voice was too controlled, and he remembered that she did not like The Avatar. "I do not know him."

"I don't know who he is now, but I know who he was," Haru shared, hoping she would share in turn why she didn't like Aang. "He was a kid during the Great War, and every time I think about it, I'm in awe. Because he did what no other kid could—save the world from Fire. I'll admit that I didn't think he was actually going to be able to do it, but he proved me—and countless other people—wrong. Now that he's a man who, according to what I've heard from Sokka, is no longer that kid, he's a fully realized Avatar. He's a man now. You know what happened to Ba Sing Se, right?"

Jin's face pinched, and a terrible grief shone in her eyes, which seemed to burst in hysteria. "I lived in Ba Sing Se's Upper Ring. I felt The Avatar's wrath that day. It was terrifying. Millions died, and it was a miracle that anyone—that I—survived. I lost so much that day due to The Avatar's fury. He slaughtered Ba Sing Se like it was nothing. I saw the carnage with my own eyes, the bodies and blood." Something crossed over her face, something bitter and enraged and distraught. "I lost my baby when he shook Ba Sing Se to shambles. I was four months pregnant, the longest I have ever carried a child to term, and the chaos was too much; my polluted womb ensured its legacy."

Haru cringed, horrified. "I'm sorry."

"I wanted to die with my baby. It was Thryn who got me through it," she continued, voice quiet and intense. "He gave me faith that we would have children. But The Avatar did nothing to fix it. He offered no apologies, nor did he fix the devastation he had wrought. He flew away and relied on King Bumi to come in and fix his grievous conduct."

He wished he had a clearer understanding of who Aang had become. "I get that, I really do, but I'm not sure you should say that to him, although I understand if you decide to."

Jin scoffed. "I am no fool. I do not court death, although I would accept it if it were to befall me. If it were not for that day the Butcher and his men desecrated my life, I would say The Avatar's slaughter was the worst day of my life."

Haru blinked rapidly, trying to process all that she was saying. "Why are you here?" he asked, bewildered. "You do know that Aang—The Avatar—will be here eventually, right?"

"I know."

"Then why are you here if you hate him so much?"

She shook her head. "Hate is not what I feel for The Avatar. I hate the animal who murdered my husband and tried to rape me. I always believed in The Avatar, and I suppose I bitterly still do. But where I always believed in him and trusted him, I only still believe in him; he lost my trust. I do not trust him. But hatred? Never. Rage? Initially, yes. It was a mother's fury; it was the most rage I ever felt until that animal attacked Thryn and I. But my polluted womb was always going to poison my child; I know it. The fifth pregnancy was never going to be different from the first, second, third, and fourth pregnancies. The result was inevitable; The Avatar only made it happen sooner. I blame The Avatar for the loss of my baby, but I blame my cursed womb more. I will never hate him, no matter how much I initially wanted to."

"But why are you here?" he asked gently. "It can't be easy knowing he'll be here soon."

Jin swallowed. "King Bor saved my life and prevented the most depraving of humiliations to befall me. I owe him a lot. And I like Toph and Suki; they are my friends. I have had few friends in my life. Perhaps I want to look into The Avatar's eyes and see if he is sorry, see if he knows what he did to me. Perhaps I want him to apologize. I cannot say. I dread the thought of his arrival."

"No wonder you don't trust The Avatar," Haru whispered, saddened. He felt pulled by his previous loyalty to Aang and his newfound understanding shared with Jin.

"I said I did not trust him, and I do not, but I trust his power," she retorted, hands shaking. "Of that above all things, I trust. For I know his power. I can still feel it floating in the air and crushing me under its weight; I felt Ba Sing Se shatter under his grip. I was there—it was only Thryn, an Earthbender, who saved us, thinking quickly; he sent us into the catacombs beneath Ba Sing Se, and we survived, thinking that all of Ba Sing Se was going to smash on top of us. But it never did while everyone else died. I felt The Avatar's power—I still feel it. Ozai and Vaatu do not possess such power; no one possibly could. The Avatar will vanquish them—of that I am certain. There is no doubt."

"Me too."

"What I doubt is my ability to survive this war; I am not like everyone else here. I am not a bender; I am not a fighter. I was never raised for ruling; I do not know the intricacies. It would be better if I died before I ruin Chyung."

Haru watched her hands twist and curl, clench and unclench. "Maybe it wouldn't be," he offered.

Jin stared at him, eyes crinkling in sadness. "I do not believe so. There is nothing left for me. If I had the drive, I would end my life. I cannot see how we recover from this. We have lost so much—too much."

"We can rebuild. It's the only thing we can do. You can be Chyung's queen- "

"If I could not carry a child to term, how could I carry the burden of ruling Chyung?"

"I think that's a false comparison," he said slowly, hesitantly. "Carrying the burden of ruling Chyung has nothing to do with the body; it has to do with the mind."

"My mind is weak and feeble," she dismissed, clearly finished with the conversation. "One of my sisters can take it if neither have already. I want nothing to do with it; I want nothing to do with everything."

Haru grabbed hold of her hand when she was about to stand up. "I'll live if you live," he proposed. "Ty Lee wouldn't want me to become nothing, and from what it sounds like, Thryn wouldn't want you to be nothing, either."

Jin looked at him, assessing him, and he was reminded that she was raised a noble. "We do understand each other," she murmured.

"I'm not trying to replace Thryn, and you're not trying to replace Ty lee. But if all of this has proven anything, it's that we can't do it alone. None of the others would understand what we feel, but we do; we need allies, someone in our corner. We can help each other until this is over and then go our separate ways."

"Perhaps there is wisdom to your suggestion," she mused softly.

"I haven't felt right since Ty Lee died," Haru began. "And I still don't feel right, and nothing has made me feel better. But sitting with you and talking, that made me start to feel better."

Jin nodded, eyes misty. "It has been a relief to speak with someone who understands."

Haru thought of Ty Lee's beaming smile and nodded back. "It is."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Gormo's eyes spasmed open, and he blinked blearily for several seconds, an onslaught of multiple voices—too many to decipher—assaulting his ears, and he listened for a long time as he gathered his bearings:

"You know what I'm thinking?"

"What?"

"That I owe The Avatar an apology."

"Just you? We all owe that son of a bitch an apology. Holy shit! I mean, did you see what he did?"

"It was insane."

"Yeah. When those freaks attacked and started doing whatever the fuck they were doing, none of us could fight; they were so strong and fast. And they kept going after- "

"All the Firebenders, yeah. But then The Avatar showed up and just fucked 'em all up the ass! Talk about a beauty to watch."

"Exactly! I always knew The Avatar wielded all four elements, but I never knew what that meant, as in I didn't know what it meant in seeing him in action."

"Oh, we know now, don't we? Very few people actually died because he showed up."

"There were a lot of close calls, Gormo more than included, but he saved everyone he could. I owe him a bunch of apologies."

"We would have all died if it weren't for him showing up."

"Well, not all of us. The Firebenders would have become like those freaks. You saw what happened to Ruram, right?"

"Of course, I did. That bastard deserved it. Serves him right."

"Wait. What happened to Ruram?"

"The same thing that happened to all the other Firebenders they got to. One of those freaks got him, and then a few minutes later, I saw Ruram acting just like those freaks, and he attacked every Firebender he could."

"At least he was attacking his own kind rather than other men's wives."

"You heard about that?"

"Who didn't around here? He was caught doing something he shouldn't have with Wren's wife, and Wren tried to kill him."

"You were there?"

"I watched the aftermath. I would have applauded if I didn't have a sense of decorum."

"Your hands were full, I'm guessing."

"Fine. Wren handed off his daughter to me while he went to deal with Ruram being a bastard, and my hands were full, yes."

"Well, those freaks served Ruram like he served Wren's wife. Took out that firebending prick. You think The Avatar killed him?"

"That would be the first death The Avatar made that I would approve of."

"I don't think The Avatar killed any of those freaks. He seemed to scare most of them through sheer power because they couldn't affect him, and I heard some people say that he actually healed some of them from whatever it was."

"I heard some people say he hurled lightning down at them."

"You think that's what he did to Ba Sing Se?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. I dare you to ask him."

"Fuck that. If I had a death wish, I wouldn't have run from those freaks! He'd probably hurl that lightning at me for asking!"

"Not with Jouri right there. Now's the time to ask!"

Awareness spread through Gormo, and he sat up as much as he could, choking on a gasp of pain. Many eyes were riveted on him, but he didn't see the pair of eyes he needed to see.

"Jouri?" he asked in a hoarse, desperate whisper. "Jouri? Where- "

Maruko shrugged. "Good to see you up. And Jouri's hanging with The Avatar."

Gormo sputtered for breath. "Wh- what? He's here? The Avatar?"

"He said The Avatar helped him. What do you remember?"

Images flashed through his fevered consciousness, and he groaned. "Those…"

"Freaks," someone supplied, but he couldn't determine who.

"Those freaks attacked, and they were after Jouri. I told him and his mother to run, but when I tried to kill one of them, I was thrown through one of our buildings. That's it."

"Pretty standard." Who was talking? What did it matter? All that mattered was his wife and son, but where were they?

"Where's… where's Enura?" he asked.

"With The Avatar," Maruko answered.

Gormo tried to swing his legs off the cot, but he was still too weak. "How long?" he whispered. "How long has it been?"

"You've been out of it for almost four days. The Avatar has stayed and is helping us rebuild. He's also been healing those who really needed it. We didn't let him heal you because we didn't think you'd want him touching you."

"Thank you," he acknowledged, raising a hand to his throbbing head.

"You should have seen it! He raised an entire city from the ground with earthbending."

"No, he didn't! A city? Really? It was more like a big village. I've been to Ba Sing Se; The Avatar didn't raise- "

"He certainly didn't! You know what he did to Ba Sing Se!"

"Careful! He may hear you!"

Gormo pushed himself and swung his legs over the side of the makeshift cot. "Shut up," he muttered and looked around. They were under a massive dome that looked the size of Ba Sing Se's walls and was made of earth.

"What is this?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"The Avatar built it. And no, this isn't the village."

"There are thousands of us in here. There were a lot of freaks, and The Avatar built this shelter for all of us, and I've heard people talking about how he rescued everyone and ushered them to this shelter while he dealt with those freaks."

Gormo looked around, finally noticing that there were so many other people around him, each situated as he was on small beds made of soft soil. And people were joyful and smiling and relieved, so different from the expressions on their faces when he had seen some of them running for their lives and screaming their heads off.

"The Avatar did this?" he asked breathlessly.

Maruko nodded. "He did. I heard someone say he's been working so hard that his arrows are disappearing. You know, the arrow tattoos that signal- "

Gormo waved him off. "I know, I know. Take me to him."

They helped him along—Maruko and several no-names he failed to identify because of that damn freak knocking him unconscious—and he was mesmerized by the vitality brimming in the air. Everyone smiled in greeting at him, and despite the fact their homes had been destroyed, there was joy.

The Avatar had reinvigorated them.

"The leaders of the other villages?" he asked after several moments.

"No one knows," Maruko responded. "No one's seen them. They're probably dead. That means you're the last leader and in charge of everyone."

Gormo closed his eyes and nodded as they continued, bypassing many faces that were unrecognizable. The attack had been all-encompassing, including many leagues across Zaofu.

"Do you know what happened to the freaks? Do we know how many there were?"

"Hundreds at the least," one of the no-names said immediately. "It wouldn't surprise me if there were thousands. You should have seen The Avatar; it was like he was everywhere, fighting so many of them. But they kept coming, and he kept buying everyone time so they could escape and find shelter under this dome."

"Perhaps I was wrong," Gormo whispered, the foreign sensation of shame gnawing at him. "Owing apologies, indeed. Where is he?"

"Last I heard, he was outside," Maruko said, craning his neck. "Do you think- "

Gormo inhaled sharply, causing him to cough—but it was unmistakable! It was him! And there was his son and wife!

The Avatar.

Ahead in the distance, he saw a tall man in Air robes carrying Jouri, and Enura walked alongside him, listening to something The Avatar was saying.

Before Gormo could think of how to approach the situation, his son saw him; his eyes bulged in delight, and he squealed, "Daddy!" The Avatar let go of Jouri, who raced toward him, and Gormo laughed as his son tightly hugged him.

His family was safe—because of The Avatar.

His wife's familiar fingers curled through his hair, and he tilted his head, resting it on Enura's shoulder. His eyes met brilliant gray eyes that rivaled any storm he had ever seen. Gormo blinked in surprise at the exhaustion carved into The Avatar's face. He was young, so young. He looked a lot younger than he thought The Avatar would look.

"Avatar Aang," he greeted, aware of the numerous eyes watching them.

"Jouri's father," The Avatar responded, and Gormo was surprised to see wariness on his face.

He never imagined The Avatar capable of such an emotion, especially about someone he could dispatch effortlessly.

Gormo let go of Jouri and stood as tall as he could; The Avatar still dwarfed him in size. Were all Air Nomads that tall? "I'm Gormo. Thank you for your help, Avatar Aang."

Jouri tugged at his hand. "He helped me, Daddy. He made all the monsters run away from me, and then he made fire-water! But he wouldn't let me touch it."

His eyes darted to The Avatar. "Fire-water?"

The Avatar looked uncomfortable; it should be impossible! "He means lava."

"You control lava?"

"I do."

Such power terrified him, and Gormo swallowed. "Thank you. Thank you for saving my son's life. Thank you for saving my people's lives, and the lives of everyone else from the other villages."

"I'm glad I could help." Something in The Avatar's face tightened. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to save everyone; I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

He was amazed. The Avatar felt guilty about the lives he failed to save. It seemed unthinkable in the face of Ba Sing Se's murder at The Avatar's blood-dripping hands, but Gormo knew what he saw; his eyes weren't deceiving him.

Gormo nodded. "What did they want? Why did they attack us?"

The Avatar looked old—as old as rumors suggested he was. "They were chi-stealers, and they wanted to steal each chi of every Firebender in the area. They will never stop hunting until all Firebenders are no more. It's like a hunger for them."

He glanced down at his son, who was oblivious, drawing stick figures in the soil with his fingers. "You mean… my son- "

"Because Jouri is a Firebender, they sensed it; they were drawn to him, like they are to all Firebenders."

Whispers erupted through the crowd, but Gormo raised his voice. "Why? How could someone turn into something like that?"

Something indecipherable crossed The Avatar's face. "It was a plague designed to destroy the Children of Fire for the Great War. These chi-stealers are actually former Firebenders who seek out other Firebenders to transform them into chi-stealers. It's a plague that feeds off itself. It was most devious."

The realization was swift and horrifying. "You mean, Jouri would have- "

"Yes."

Fury swallowed his horror. "Who is monstrous enough to design such a plague?"

The Avatar solemnly stared at him. "A Child of Earth is who unleashed it."

Gormo took a step back in denial. "No, no. There is no Child of Earth- "

"It was revenge against Fire for the Great War," The Avatar repeated. "But it made everything so much worse. But he didn't care, the damn fool."

"You knew him," he whispered.

"I did."

Gormo swallowed as sweat broke out on his forehead; he felt his heart race. "Did you kill him?"

There were many people in the crowd who leaned forward to hear the answer, and Gormo almost didn't want to hear the answer, certain of what he would hear. The Avatar was the murderer above all murderers, after all.

The Avatar's eyes darkened like storm clouds before utter exhaustion seemed to consume him. "No, I didn't. Fire Lord Zuko killed him."

An exhale of relief surged out of Gormo's lungs, and he knew he wasn't the only one. "Thank you for saving my son's life, Avatar, but I'm still confused. I believe everyone is."

"That's understandable. What are you confused about?"

"You said they wanted to steal my son's chi- "

The Avatar interrupted: "Perhaps I worded that wrong. I think 'steal' is the wrong verb if you want to understand. Think of it as if they wanted to drink your son's chi until there was nothing left and then change him until he was like them."

Gormo leaned back in understanding. "So they would drink and then poison the well?"

"That's a good analogy."

"Then how did you deal with them?"

"I lured them all away from people since I am the strongest Firebender in the area," The Avatar explained. "They couldn't resist, and they either ran off, terrified, or I healed them of their affliction."

"Could they have done that to you? Drink your chi?"

The Avatar seemed to almost look amused if he didn't look so exhausted. "No one can drink the ocean."

Gormo almost wavered from the weight of such a statement.

"Is there anything else, Leader Gormo?" The Avatar asked. "I had been waiting for your awakening, for I knew you were the Elder. I have done what I can to help you rebuild; there are enough huts created and there are food sources- "

"You've done more than enough," he rushed out. "Thank you. I was wrong about you."

The Avatar smiled, but it was heavy with sadness. "No, you weren't. What I did to Ba Sing Se was wrong; it was evil. I should have handled it better."

He had no idea how The Avatar knew the source of his hatred, but he wasn't going to question it.

"Is there anything else I can do, Leader Gormo?"

Gormo shook his head. "We will rebuild, Avatar Aang. We are strong."

"I believe you," The Avatar said. "You are true Children of Earth."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Azula peered down at the earth from Appa's head, squinting her eyes, trying to perceive as much as she could. She had kept an eye out for Aang or her friends, but for hours she had flown and seen no signs nor signals to suggest their friends were nearby. She was not worried about Aang; she knew he would deal with the distraction Vaatu had sent. But he had entrusted her with Appa to find their friends, and she would succeed.

And then they would rescue Samir and her mother with the help of their friends.

Were they her friends?

She knew they were Aang's friends, but did that make them hers? They had only accepted her, some more begrudgingly than others, because of Aang. Strides had been made between them, certainly, but friendship?

She could not say for any of them but Toph. Their time together at the Eastern Temple had cultivated a friendship, along with their similar dispositions. Katara had proven to let bygones be bygones after they had cleared the air, and so had Suki, but would either consider her a friend, or would she consider them friends? She really did not know.

There was always Mai and Ty Lee.

Azula knew she could count on her former friends if necessary, and there was part of her that did want to count on them as she used to. They had been good friends, and maybe they could be again.

Appa roar ruptured the air around them, and she tensed against the ripples and petted the side of his head. "What is it? What do you see?"

It was clear a moment later.

Zuko's dragon, Druk, was flying in the air several leagues away, visible despite his small size.

Her eyes lit up in understanding. It had been a roar of greeting on Appa's part.

"Yip-yip," she said, and Appa zoomed forward.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Katara stared at the door leading to Hama's room, preparing herself. She had been unable to summon the courage to speak with Hama ever since that initial conversation—more like shouting and insulting match—after healing her.

Inhaling slowly, she opened the door and those eyes that had haunted her for years rooted on her with intensity.

"You have finally entered my tomb," Hama murmured as Katara closed the door behind her. "My murderer has come."

"You murdered yourself," she countered. "Your decisions are what imprisoned you, not me. If anything, I'm your healer."

Hama snarled and strained against the metal binding her body; Toph had been most unforgiving when she had regained her feet. The metal contraption was molded around Hama's body, keeping only her head visible. Whenever Sokka chi-blocked her, Toph was with him to shift the metal, giving him the necessary openings. Katara knew the area around the stomach would have to be expanded soon—very soon. It was a miracle that Hama had never realized she was pregnant.

How did the first Bloodbender not sense another heartbeat in her own body?

Katara could admit that she had used her bloodbending to see if she had fallen pregnant since she and Zuko started laying together. Thankfully, she had not, for she did not want to be pregnant in the middle of this war with Vaatu and Ozai, but the disappointment was still strong despite that.

She desperately wanted a child, parts from her and Zuko fused through love, beauty, and miracle.

Her eyes were drawn to where Hama's stomach was under the metal molding, and she swallowed, looking away. She could not let Hama know she was pregnant. That was a conversation she was not—not!—ready to have.

Zuko would probably handle it; she would prefer it if he did.

"You sicken me," Hama hissed, eyes poisonous. "You spread your legs for a son of Fire. You will wed a monster. I hope the seed of Sozin scorches your womb and burns you from the inside out."

Katara crossed her arms across her breasts and raised her brows, unimpressed. "You slept with Ozai."

You're carrying his child.

"He deceived me!" Hama shrieked. "I thought he was Piandao!"

She was unconvinced. "Yet, you still slept with a son of Fire, which you condemn me for. You knew he was of Fire to begin with, but you did it anyway."

"Whore!"

"Hypocrite," she retorted. "It's not that you slept with Ozai that's the worst part. The worst part is your hypocrisy in condemning me for something you did—but yours was infinitely worse. Zuko is a good man; he is amazing, strong, and wise. Ozai is the opposite of his son in all areas."

Katara refrained from acknowledging that Zuko's temper would always probably resemble his father's—but less destructive, of course.

Hama's eyes gleamed with ice. "Why didn't you let me die?" she demanded, voice shrill. "I should have died with my failure! Now I have to live with the memory of holding his heart in my grip and not crushing it! And I have to live under your pathetic gaze!"

"Why did you teach him waterbending?" she asked after several moments, betrayal coursing through her. She knew Hama was many things, but she had never imagined that Hama would ever side with Fire over Water, no matter how much she had been deceived. "Why would you help them desecrate so many of our race?"

"Does this eat at you?" Hama wondered, sudden delight piercing through her madness. "It does. I can see it! No, I won't tell you. You don't deserve that information. You deserve nothing but death!"

"Why? Because I beat you?"

"Because they took the Moon from me for years because you beat me! My chi was blocked, and I couldn't feel the Moon. It wasn't until Vaatu restored my health and body to its peak condition that I felt it again." Hama smiled, but it was disgusting. "I may hate Pian- Ozai, but I love Vaatu. But my love for Vaatu was not enough to overcome my hatred for Pian- Ozai and those of Fire—and you. I'm in the same position again—removed from the Moon."

Katara's fists clenched, and she hid the evidence by curling her fists under her arms. "But he is why Ozai was able to deceive you! Be consistent! You're nothing like Water."

Hama bucked against the metal molding imprisoning her. "Neither are you! A true Child of Water would never spread her legs for a Child of Fire!"

"I love Zuko, and I will be Fire Lady," she said, impervious to Hama's death glare and the terrible sneer on her lips. It was quite a saddening sight; Hama would look beautiful if not for her apparent madness. "I am doing what you never could—forgive. It doesn't mean you forget because you never forget what happened. You remember, but you forgive—because this is so much bigger than us. It's bigger than me. Did your precious savior tell you how the Great War started?"

Her question registered, for Hama stilled. "What are you talking about? I know what happened! Sozin and Fire burned for conquest and power!"

Katara felt no vindication in revealing the truth; well, maybe a little bit. "No. Vaatu influenced Sozin through Agni's corruption. Sozin is guilty, absolutely, and he always will be, but Vaatu is to blame."

"No, no- "

"Yes, yes," she interrupted, nodding her head, watching as Hama's face slackened and paled. "He deceived you even worse than Ozai did. Fire suffered as we all suffered! No one since the Great War was immune from the agony it provoked. No one. Look outside of yourself, Hama. This is bigger than you; it's bigger than everyone."

Hama sneered. "Even The Avatar?"

Katara hesitated, unsure. "Maybe. But Aang has had more reason to destroy Fire than anyone, and not only did he not destroy them; he forgave them and has chosen one of Sozin's heirs as his wife, and she will be the Mother of the Air Nomads."

Disgust crossed Hama's face. "He's too weak to do what needs to be done."

"You felt his power, you said. You know he's not weak."

"Yes, he's The Avatar with more power than we could possibly know," Hama said, sounding like she was reciting something. "But he failed to wield such power as it should be wielded. And he chose to wed one of Sozin's line—despicable."

Katara's brows rose. "You think you know how The Avatar should wield his power more than he does?"

Hama's neck craned forward, anticipation drawing her face into cruel lines. "I'll tell him to his face when he arrives."

"Why won't you act like Water and change?" she asked, feeling desperate. Would this be the fate of the child? "We're family, Hama- "

"We are nothing of the sort!" Hama shrieked, bucking against the metal contraption. "I disown you!"

Katara swallowed, understanding finally the source of Hama's deep hatred for her—because she had betrayed Family without ever realizing they were connection by blood. "I'm sorry for what happened," she whispered. "I'm sorry—I am. If I had known, maybe things would have gone differently. You're my grandaunt- "

"No, I'm your destroyer! I will destroy you! You are why this all happened to me—it's source is you!"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "What about giving us information. We could use your help against Ozai. You want revenge, but why won't you direct it at Vaatu, who is responsible for the Great War?"

"I don't care if Vaatu started the Great War. I hate Sozin and his heirs, and I hate you, Katara, for taking everything from me."

"You are comfortable in the lies," Katara whispered, aghast.

"I don't trust your truth because I don't trust you. Vaatu saved me and restored me. For that, I love him."

"He helped Ozai deceive you!" she cried out in disbelief. "Can't you see that? He was in on it from the beginning! You think he cares about you? He doesn't. He only considers you a tool to wield against Aang and all of us!"

Hama's eyes narrowed. "As opposed to The Avatar? You said I could help you—because you consider me a tool to wield against Vaatu. I will never join you and, because of it, The Avatar will take my bending, won't he?"

Katara hesitated. "That's not- "

"Liar," Hama taunted. "He will, won't he? And he takes it from the wrong person. He should have taken the bending of every Fire spawn, but he was too weak. Lee was strong and did what your precious Avatar was never able to do—reduce Fire to nothing."

"You lost the feel of the Moon for years," she said, ignoring the reminder of Jet; she sensed an opportunity. "You want to go back to that?"

"I'm already there!"

"But if Aang takes your bending, it will be even worse. Won't you join us just so you can keep your bending?"

"I don't trust whatever you offer," Hama dismissed. "Bring The Avatar. I'll speak with that weak boy."

Katara stared at her for several moments before she left without a word, slamming the door shut behind her. Frustration boiled inside her, and she couldn't believe Hama! How could she be so foolish? How could she remain loyal to Vaatu, who was responsible for so much?

She left the inn, stewing in her bitter thoughts.

Would Hama's child act like Hama? Would the child hate her, sensing the hatred his mother felt for her?

"Aunt Katara!" Samir shouted, running to her.

Katara blinked, her bitter thoughts dissipating upon Samir's enthusiasm as she kneeled in front of her. "What is it?"

"Druk is doing tricks for Uncle Zuzu! Come see!"

"Okay," she said through her laughter and let Samir pull her along. In the distance, she could see Druk's outline.

"It's up ahead!" Samir yelled, pointing, anxious to go faster.

Katara smiled. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

Samir bolted, and she went slightly faster than a normal child due to airbending, and Katara pictured another child running—one with her features and Zuko's.

She was going to be a mother. There was part of her that did feel nervous, but her excitement overwhelmed whatever minimal anxiety she felt. Mainly, her only anxiety was telling Hama that she was pregnant and explaining that she would not be able to raise her child. She knew Zuko would likely handle that part; she suspected he would take vindication if not pleasure from it.

He hated those who allied themselves with his father.

Katara knew he would have killed Hama if it were not for the fact that Hama had saved Ursa and Samir. Her actions had saved her life, along with the fact she was pregnant.

Hama was the most dangerous person out of all of them until Aang and Azula arrived, and Katara knew she wasn't the only one who was on edge waiting for them to arrive.

If Hama somehow did break free because the chi-block wore off, or something else happened, Katara was prepared to use her own bloodbending to fend her off and immobilize her.

She had beaten Hama once, and she would do it again if necessary.

Zuko's concerns were understandable, especially after everything he had faced growing up under Ozai, but Katara had confidence in their ability not to be anything like Hama nor Ozai.

The fact he was so desperate not to be like his father affirmed her faith—her knowledge!—that he was going to be nothing like Ozai.

The child was not going to be like Hama nor Ozai—he was not!

XxXxXxXxXxX

Azula realized her brother and Katara were resting in a small town; she could see the area clearly from her vantage above. But as Appa zoomed closer, she discerned the figure of her brother, but there were other figures, and within a moment, she recognized one of them.

Toph.

Her eyes widened as she realized that Zuko and Katara had found Toph, Bor, and Suki. As Appa approached with a mighty roar, the figures turned and raised their gazes, and Azula inhaled sharply as lightning erupted behind her eyes.

Mother was amongst them.

Without waiting another moment, she leaped off Appa's head and dove to the earth, wind painfully cutting into her face. Before she crashed—and died—plumes of sapphire flames broke her fall, allowing her to temporarily hover before she landed on the ground.

She dashed to the group, seeing Zuko, Mother, Sokka, Suki, Toph, Bor, and several others unfamiliar to her.

But where was Samir?

"Where's Aang?" Zuko asked, coming to meet her.

"Where is Samir?" she demanded, desperate eyes roaming the area for a sign of her daughter. "Where is she, Mother?"

Mother smiled, but there was something exhausted in her eyes. "She is safe. She went to- "

"Mommy!"

Azula whirled around and something realigned itself inside her as Samir rushed toward her, the air propelling her faster, with an awed, enormous grin. Before she could react, her daughter launched herself at her, and Azula stumbled back at the unexpected weight, but she adjusted effortlessly.

Something churned inside her, and Azula descended to her knees; she pulled Samir closer into her arms, fingers brushing through her hair, reassuring herself that Samir was no specter conceived by her desperation to see her.

She was real; she was safe.

"I miss- missed you, Mo- Mommy," Samir choked out through wavering sobs, shaking against her.

Azula did not care at the numerous eyes watching them; her golden eyes were misty, and she let the tears fall. "I missed you, as well," she whispered back into her daughter's hair. "I am so thankful you are safe."

She did not care that Vaatu had tricked her and Aang; she did not care that Indra had sacrificed herself for nothing; she did not care that Vaatu and Father now possessed all four elements, producing a much more dangerous threat. All she cared about was that Samir was safe and in her arms after so long apart.

"This is too weepy for me," Toph said without conviction, and Azula glimpsed the tears in those milky eyes.

Bor placed a gentle arm across Toph's shoulders. "Everything's looking up—finally."

"You found them," Azula whispered finally, bypassing the weight in the back of her throat, grateful eyes locking onto Zuko as Katara appeared next to him.

Zuko shook his head. "They found us, and we just happened to be paying attention to flying boulders."

"Where's Aang?" Katara asked, concerned. "What happened?"

Samir desperately tugged at her arm, gray eyes teary. "Yeah, where's Daddy? I want Daddy."

Azula despised Vaatu so much for putting that expression on her daughter's face—not to mention whatever else Samir was subjected to by Father and Vaatu.

"There was a situation," she explained gently, brushing wild hair out of her face, smiling—Samir was safe! "We had to separate; he left to deal with it, and I came to find you."

Samir sniffed. "I want him here."

"He will be," Azula vowed. "He was merely delayed."

"What kept Twinkletoes, Lightning Psycho?" Toph demanded, and Azula was surprised at the patience. The restraint not to ask immediately was remarkable.

"I cannot say exactly what the situation is, for Aang left to deal with it. There were massive fires. I suspect Vaatu sent a distraction to prevent us from hunting him."

Zuko's good eye widened. "Wait. What about the Air Spirit? Indra?"

Azula almost admired Vaatu for deceiving them so completely; he had, indeed, been bluffing. Aang's suspicion had been right.

"Father has all the elements," she notified, watching their faces waver in horror. "Vaatu tricked us into believing that he still possessed… his captives." Her arms squeezed Samir for reassurance. "We believed him."

Sokka groaned. "Just like I believed Piandao was actually alive. Wasn't that a painful surprise. How many other lies are there?"

Her eyes widened. "You fought against Father?"

Before he could answer, Mother cut in with a nod. "Prince Sokka and his group rescued Samir and me. And Hama, too."

She looked around, noticing finally that Sokka's group was missing beyond Sokka himself. "Where are Mai and Ty Lee? Where are the Kyoshi Warriors?"

Both Suki and the man whose name she did not know flinched. "It wasn't without losses."

Azula leaned back in understanding, seeing the somber confirmation on Zuko's face and in Mother's eyes. "He killed them."

"I'm sorry," Zuko said quietly, eyes watching her.

She could not deal with that, not right now; she needed to focus on Samir, who grasped onto her as tightly as a child could.

"Who are they?" she demanded, eyes locking onto the two unfamiliar people, who stood near each other. Were they spies for Father?

Toph waved her hands. "Watch it, Lightning Psycho. They're with us; you can trust them."

Azula refused to relent. "I will be the judge of that."

"You're exactly what Ty Lee described," the man said, voice pained but fond.

Her eyes narrowed. "You knew her?"

"As much as a guy can know a girl."

She recalled the name after several moments, and the mustache confirmed it. "Haru."

"King Bor saved my life," the woman cut in, and Azula knew she was in the presence of a noble; the bearing was blatant, the way she held herself. "I am not allied to Vaatu or your father, Princess Azula."

Azula's golden eyes flashed; she would not trust her. "You forgot my most important title."

Zuko sighed, pinching his nose. "I vouch for both of them, Avatar's wife. This is a waste of time. They're trustworthy. Bor saved Jin's life, and she's been helping out, and she's the rightful Queen of Chyung. And Haru goes without saying; we all knew him during the Great War."

She felt Samir's comforting weight and released her paranoia; she trusted their judgment. "Very well. Is this all who are left?"

Katara hesitated. "There is Hama. Sokka's been chi-blocking her- "

"So, where's Aang?" Sokka interrupted, desperately staring at her. "I don't want to have to keep chi-blocking her! She's insane!"

"There's no way she's gonna be able to escape," Toph assured. "But we were waiting on Twinkletoes to get here to take her bending."

Zuko's eyes captured her own. "And she's pregnant. We're going to have a new sibling."

"A Waterbender," Katara added as Azula's eyes widened. "No threat to the Dragon's Throne."

"Thankfully," her brother muttered.

Azula's gaze snapped to Mother, who only looked tired. Something had happened to Mother during her time captured, and she intended to discern the source as swiftly as possible.

"Are you certain?"

Mother nodded. "She was his mistress. I know. Your brother and Katara have decided to raise the child as their own."

"Very prudent," she praised, proud of Zuko for effectively wielding his power as Fire Lord. "How far along is she?"

"She's already started showing," Katara answered, face amazed. "I don't know how she never knew. She's a Bloodbender; she should have felt the heartbeat. She should have noticed the curve of her stomach."

"And she still doesn't know," Bor added. "We figured we should wait as long as possible—or until Avatar Aang gets here when he can take her bending."

Azula rapidly considered such information as her hands rubbed across Samir's back in random but gentle patterns; it was equally soothing not only to Samir but to Azula herself. "She never felt it because she never looked for it, nor did she look down at herself to see. I surmise that it never occurred to Hama that she may fall pregnant with Father's child."

"Stupid bitch," Toph muttered, kicking her feet into the ground.

"Quite right," Azula agreed. "You are certain she does not know?"

Katara laughed, but there was something haunted in it. "Yes. We would never hear the end of it if she did know. She hates your father, and I mean really hates him."

"She would be a worthy ally- "

"If she were willing to be," Mother finished. "I have tried to persuade her- "

"I have, too," Katara added.

"- but she will not."

Zuko's arm rose and cradled Katara, who looked morose, against his side. "She can't look past everything that happened. She would never ally with Ozai's children who are also heirs of Sozin."

Katara's eyes shadowed with sadness. "And she hates me even more than Ozai."

Azula's brows rose. "Stupid bitch, indeed," she said, watching Toph nod vigorously in agreement. She turned to Zuko. "You are certain she knows who we are?"

Zuko shrugged. "Even if my identity wasn't confirmed multiple times in front of her, I'm pretty recognizable; my face looks like scorched meat."

Sokka groaned. "Great. Now I'm hungry."

Toph snickered while Suki smacked Sokka's arm. "Don't say that!"

Zuko looked amused, glancing at Sokka. "Komodo Chicken?"

Sokka stared back with a solemn nod. "Komodo Chicken."

"I'm hungry, too, Mommy," Samir said, voice tired.

Azula nodded, feeling the pangs of hunger. "I am, as well. I do not know when Aang will arrive, but he will find us."

"I can't believe they have all the elements," Bor murmured. "At least they have no army now."

"We will begin afresh," Azula said. "I know Ozai will come to nothing in the end."

The various nods of confirmation that met her gaze were a stark relief, almost as much as knowing Samir was safe. If only Aang held such faith. While he believed that he would defeat Ozai and Vaatu, he didn't believe that it would be a permanent victory. He believed that it was a temporary victory that would be challenged every lifetime.

Azula would need the help of the others to sway his mind. His interpretation of the Tree of Time's decree was wrong—it had to be!

XxXxXxXxXxX

Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you all enjoyed it and I'd also really appreciate it if you left a review; it would help me out!

**Hakoda appears finally! Remember, by the time Katara and Sokka (and Suki, too) left after receiving Zuko's letter at the beginning of the story, the relationship between father and children was strained. So, his perception is a little different, and the relationship is a little different, too. He doesn't know much of what has happened outside of the Southern Water Tribe beyond the basics, so he has a lot of catching up to do. Pakku shows up with a letter from Iroh, and Hakoda and co. are going to meet Iroh in the Fire Nation. They'll get their money's worth, certainly.

Hakoda remembers a time when he met Azulon and had to negotiate with him after the South was conquered for the second time. Basically, Azulon is exceedingly generous in his terms, and all Hakoda has to do is notify Azulon every time a Waterbender is born in the South. Of course, Hakoda's not going to be able to keep that promise, which culminates in Kya's death later on.

**Ozai and Zaheer talk. So, Zaheer has taken Ty Lee's place. Her spirit is still inside the body, but Zaheer is dismantling it, since there cannot be two spirits in one body for long. In effect, Ty Lee is dead. She won't be able to come back. Putting a new spirit into a body has irreversible consequences, and not even Aang can magically reverse it. Everything has a cost; the cost for putting a spirit in a different body is permanent. There is no undoing it, unfortunately. (If there weren't any consequences, it opens the door for very, very problematic actions someone could take.) Anyone who Vaatu decides would be a good vessel for someone from the Gardens of the Dead, pretty much, replaces the dead spirit in the Gardens. Ty Lee can't come back, and the scribe whose body Jet stole can't come back, either.

So, Zaheer attacked the Water Tribe (which existed in the North) in his life for revenge against Avatar Keska because she dismantled his rebellion against the High Council of Elders of the Air Nomads. Keska, who was the Water Avatar before Kuruk, was enraged from all the devastation Zaheer caused, and she killed him and condemned him to the Maze of Thorns for punishment. However, his attack had consequences that not even Keska could prevent. Half of the Water Tribe (which existed in the North) separated and journeyed to the South, terrified of another attack. Zaheer fundamentally transformed the Water Tribe, dividing a nation into two factions - the Northern Water Tribe and the Southern Water Tribe. Also, his attack provoked Keska to create the Order of the White Lotus.

The philosophical battle between Ozai and Zaheer was really interesting, especially when taking into account exactly how much of an advantage Fire had due to Sozin's masterful secrecy before the Great War. Fire should have crushed Water and Earth due to its technological advantages and decades-long preparations for war, but Fire was never able to do it, suggesting a fundamental failure (and adds much credence to the fact that Earth is really the one who started the Great War, where Fire was in it just to survive, forced into it). The Fire Nation not only had one Great Comet but two Great Comets to augment their abilities, but they still weren't able to achieve victory over the span of a hundred years. It's actually remarkable. So, Zaheer would mock the Fire Nation's failure—specifically, Sozin's. Now, this is my own opinion, but I think there is a lot to what Zaheer is saying. If the Air Nomads had been the conquerors, there would have been no denying them—and certainly not denying them for a century. Air has all the advantages in a war, no matter the opponent. There is a reason why the high ground is such a fundamental necessity in war; whoever has the high ground is significantly more likely to win. And when the Air Nomads not only control the high ground but the air above the high ground, it would be a slaughter. They control the skies, and no one but them can do anything in the sky. Whereas, Water, Earth, Fire, and Air can act on the ground and do many things on the ground. Water, Earth, and Fire (except for dragons, but the dragons would be dealt with easily enough with time) can do nothing in the sky. Air controls an entire domain, whereas the other domains (the ground and ocean) are shared by the other elements. Maybe Water controls the ocean, but there is still Air directly above Water, looming above it, threatening to drop and smash and crush.

**Ursa talks with Hama and tries to get her to help them, and while she succeeds somewhat, she also fails. Remember, Hama's hatred burns for Fire and Katara. That's not a good combination, for Katara is in her presence (or at least near her) and then Ozai's own wife and son are in her presence. She's a liminal figure, not loyal to any faction. She pretty much hates anyone; it's just a matter of who she hates more. The problem is that she hates Ozai but loves Vaatu for saving her life and restoring her body and making her waterbending/bloodbending stronger, but she hates Katara and feels no love for anyone of the Gaang. She hates The Avatar because he didn't take revenge on the Fire Nation and didn't allow anyone to take vengeance against them. Not to mention her pregnancy, which she is ignorant of, and everyone is keeping a secret from her. And then she's also chi-blocked, blocking her connection to the Moon again. There are really no positives for Hama right now. She doesn't even want to be alive to begin with, too ashamed of her failure to kill Ozai.

However, Hama does feel a kinship with Ursa because they were both used by Ozai and deceived by him. But that kinship isn't enough to overcome her hatred for Katara, causing her to lash out.

**Aang and Azula have to stop because they have pushed Appa so far, and night has fallen, obstructing their ability to see. They have a conversation in which tension erupts when Aang thinks Samir is dead and Azula doesn't, but they get through it. Then Aang summons his past lives and speaks with Roku and Kyoshi for advice and understanding. I did change some things by having Roku lose a child in his life. I mean, Roku's entire reign as Avatar is defined as failure. I think that failure would trickle into his personal life, for he fails to save his son's life. But it creates an even firmer connection between him and Aang. As for Kyoshi, I wanted to give a little more insight into why she was so ruthless and pragmatic—because she learned the hard way, which ties back to the reveal about her connection/marriage to Chin the Conqueror. That is where she and Aang are similar. He has learned the hard way that he must be ruthless and pragmatic, and that he is capable of horrifying violence and destruction. In all honesty, Aang is probably more similar to Kyoshi than he is to Roku, something he's finally beginning to understand and accept. He no longer hates Kyoshi; he understands her and empathizes with her. For she had a hard life, too—because the Avatar always does. If you take into account how epically Kuruk screwed everything up, she had a lot of work to do during her reign, for all of Kuruk's mistakes were revealed/intensified in her lifetime, and thus blamed on her rather than Kuruk.

**Katara confirms that Sokka's twins are Waterbenders! I'm pretty sure that wasn't a surprise to anyone. Zuko and Katara talk about raising Hama's child since they haven't had the chance, and Zuko is understandably worried, especially because of the curse of his bloodline. The worry isn't going to just disappear, but it's alleviated briefly by Katara's affirmation that he won't be like his father since it's a team effort, and they make a good team.

**Vaatu sends a distraction of chi-stealers to prevent Aang from finding him, and Aang and Azula split up; she goes to look for the others, who she will then take with her to find Samir if Aang hasn't caught up by then, and Aang goes to deal with the distraction.

**Haru and Jin talk. They are probably the most similar in terms of everything they've lost in this war against Vaatu; they each have no one left, and they are outsiders who joined the Gaang later on in the story. So, they reach an understanding and discuss everything that's been going on. And Jin doesn't like The Avatar because of what Aang did to Kuei, which led to her having a miscarriage from the sheer destruction and chaos he had caused that day due to the massive stress. But Jin stays because she is at least reasonable rather than purely emotional. She has good reason to not like Aang, but she has good reason to trust in his power, which is the only thing that can stop Vaatu, who's responsible ultimately for her husband's murder and her near rape.

**Katara speaks with Hama! It goes about as you would expect. Hama's resistant to an extreme degree no matter what Katara says.

**Azula finds everyone and reunites with Samir! I figured I should end this chapter on a nice note, so I hope it ended smoothly.

I think that was everything so leave a review and tell me what you think of the chapter. I'd really appreciate it!

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