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Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender

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It was sundown, and a blanket gradually lowered over the territory's daylight chaos. It was the screeching Agni—death to the Fire Spirit! Hours of peace would soon ascend without that wretched Great Spirit! The night would finally come once again! Figures were muted with the shadows, and the day was ending with nods and brief smiles of silent understanding, a joyful recognition of reprieve from Agni's evil. The night was coming—Agni was weakened! It was proclaimed by a blinding orange light piercing an immense, jaded shade of murky clouds.

Soon, darkness would spread across the sky, and peace would be felt by all—Agni and The Avatar would be gone!

It was the message he spread to his people—his very kin, all descended from the man who possessed exquisite vision, foresight, and will. Earth was across the world, but Earth was not unified as it needed, as its primal essence demanded; Earth was fractured and split to their foundations, divided. Earth must be consistent and stable, whole and full, for anything to stand—for life to be lived. His Great Sire understood the critical truth about their race, which was being denied to them by greedy kings who sought power and sat on the thrones of Ba Sing Se, Omashu, Chyung, and Zaofu, hoarding the essence of Earth for themselves rather than sharing it across their magnificent race, born of Devi herself!

It was a vision almost realized—it was a world almost manifested! His Great Sire swept across the continent, incorporating those who agreed with him into his kinfolk, and destroying those who disagreed, as their insanity and unintelligence were too severe to save them from—Death was a merciful release for those mad souls! He seized Zaofu, Chyung, Omashu, and Ba Sing Se, liberating all of those smothered by those cruel kings too selfish to look at the bigger picture, to unite Earth as it was meant to be united. No more division! No more separation! No more barriers! No more restrictions!

All the glories of his Great Sire's vision were achieved—until only wreckage remained of him and his accomplishments. His Great Sire accomplished everything until the Bitch Kyoshi slaughtered him and deprived Earth of its Great Unifier, casting their race back into division and discord, petty rivalries between cities when they all shared the beauty of their race, the land of the continent, and the belief of History. Yet, no one rebelled actively against the Bitch Kyoshi after she slaughtered everyone loyal to the Conqueror and instead abided meekly by her return to the ways of tyranny after she murdered his Great Sire and his great armies.

However, his Great Sire's firstborn, once he matured, realized the truth of The Avatar—never would there be rightness in the world with The Avatar. Thus, he rebelled subtly against The Avatar, endowing the noble goal in his descendants, in all the sons who arose to lead the Children of Chin—like himself.

He was Chin V, descended from Chin the Conqueror, leader of the Children of Chin, considered holy by all his kin, for in his blood was the purest blood of the Conqueror; in his blood lingered the whisper of The Avatar's power, for the Conqueror knew the Bitch Kyoshi when she was a girl and sired by her a son, his firstborn, and later two daughters, from whom all leaders of the Children of Chin descend, preserving the mantle of their Great Sire, who once convinced the Bitch Kyoshi of his noble aspirations before she was lost to the evil of The Avatar—as The Avatar always is in all his lifetimes!

Ba Sing Se's murder merely further verified what he and his kin had known and believed for generations. They were not the only ones enraged; they beckoned for those who felt what they felt to join them in haste; they increased their numbers by a thousandfold since The Avatar murdered Ba Sing Se and swept terror across the continent; they were ensuring their new brothers-in-arms became brothers of flesh by marrying into the extended family descended from the Conqueror they were building an army to reseize Ba Sing Se, which was rebuilt by King Bumi, before taking over the continent as the Conqueror did.

But Chin V did not want to think of King Bumi—the traitor born of traitors and the foremost murderer of Earth, depriving their race of a magnificent and wise leader!

His aims were bigger and deeper simultaneously. He wanted Fire's extinction—as King Kuei justly pursued before The Avatar murdered him like the Bitch Kyoshi murdered his Great Sire! But he hated The Avatar more than Fire; he would ally with the Defiler if it meant The Avatar's demise forever before he, thus, murdered the Defiler; and he hated The Avatar more than King Bumi—the traitor above all traitors but the Bitch Kyoshi!—and would smite them both since they were allied together.

Generations of pursuits would culminate in his lifetime—The Avatar would die!

Rumbles echoed through the ground as he crossed the expanse of territory, following the summons that had been dealt to him, trailing the messenger who led him. It was madness for him to be summoned, though it intrigued him. He knew a power play when he saw it, but he felt a burning curiosity and hint of respect that he was dared summoned by another. Only a man of tremendous power would dare summon him. Who dared summon him, Chin V? Who dared summon the descendant of the Conqueror and The Avatar? Who dared summon him in his own territory?

He almost murdered the messenger who came with the summons, but his interest was provoked. The lessons of the Conqueror passed down through the Chins endowed in him restraint until the instinct to conquer was needed, and there was always a time when conquering was needed. He would answer the summons and restrain his instinct to conquer until he determined it necessary—and he would conquer as he did always, like his Great Sire. Vengeance would be inflicted at last upon the damned Avatar! His noble inheritance would soon be realized, and he would continue his Great Sire's vision of a unified Earth Kingdom that the Bitch Kyoshi desecrated.

Chin V followed the messenger, who led him, who served him—as he was a holy man, gliding across the ground as a specter of strength, an echo of the Conqueror's indomitable will. Various figures stood, watching him as he passed, bowing in reverence—he was a holy man; his shrouded body was covered in a myriad of beautiful shades of green. He kept his face hidden—fuck King Bumi, the damned traitor of blood!—from all he wished, mandating execution for any who dared see his face who he wished deprived of such knowledge. Thankfully, for he hated killing his kin, the various gusts of wind aided the obfuscation of his features, the blended shades of green, not even revealing a glimpse. The green cloth fluttered across his, hiding his entire body—because he was not an ordinary holy man nor even a sage.

He was descended from the Conqueror, from whom he inherited his identity and place, his understanding of Life and his primary role to play in it; he was the Children of Chin's leader—the direct heir of the Conqueror! He perceived things nobody else could due to the mighty and noble blood in his veins. He was above any of his race, including his kin, for he was a holy man, taught the ancient ways of his lineage back to the Conqueror.

The messenger opened the hidden tunnel descending the caverns, revealing an intricate stairwell, and when the messenger hesitated, Chin V gestured for the messenger to continue. The messenger bowed and led him through the caverns, a sign of his devotion to his leader, who demanded a holy service. The path was familiar and well-trodden until it came to a main cavern with diverging tunnels sprouting in every direction.

However, the messenger stopped and shivered. "Follow straight, and you will find him."

"Bring me to him," he ordered.

"He is of Fire," the messenger whispered, equally terrified and furious.

Chin V turned to him, enraged. "You dare bring to me the summons of- "

"He isn't alone, Chin V," the messenger appeased, voice panicked. "He's with a spirit, and the spirit ordered I bring you to him. What could I say? He was a spirit. He terrifies me. He's not like us- "

"I am not like you," Chin V hissed, clenching his fists. The ground ruptured around them, and lava began to spurt through the cracks. The heat washed over him and slowly, the atmosphere clouded with warmth, buzzing against his senses, casting a red hue. "You dare sully my sanctity by bringing me to- "

The messenger's face was bloodless with dread as he fell to his knees, narrowly avoiding some of the lava. "Forgive me, Chin V! I followed the spirit's order! I didn't want to disappoint you by neglecting a potential ally!"

He halted the lava's flow. "Ally? He seeks an alliance?"

"Yes, Chin V. He speaks of The Avatar's demise."

Chin V forced the lava back into the ground, depriving himself of that familiar warmth and red hue. "Bring me to him."

The messenger scrambled forward, limbs quivering, but he led him through the caverns. Of course, he knew the way, but he did not know the ways of spirits, despite being holy. The messenger had been in contact with the spirit and would lead him to him.

When it became clear where they were headed, he yanked the messenger off his feet and smashed him into the wall. "What are you doing?"

"Following your command!" the messenger coughed, refusing to struggle against him—he was a holy man, descended directly from the Conqueror and The Avatar. "I bring you to him!"

He glared at the messenger, who yelped in dread. "You dared let him into the Conqueror's sacred sanctum?"

"He demanded it- "

"This is no ally!" he hissed. "This is an enemy who dares destroy us from within by miring the Conqueror's sacred sanctum, where we join in union with our Great Sire! He seeks to poison the well! You damn fool!"

"Chin V, please, forgive me!"

Chin V released the messenger who gasped in relief before he lunged forward and, with a sickening crunch, drove the side of his palm into the messenger's neck, crushing the larynx. Dispassionate eyes watched as the messenger's eyes clouded over, Death claiming his spirit.

He buried the body and marched toward the Conqueror's sacred sanctum, knowing only he could deal with the spirit who threatened the existence of the Conqueror's descendants. He would take care of it as the protector and leader of his kin—the heir of the Conqueror!

When he entered the sanctum, what he saw surprised him—a weak, sickly, one-armed man, with his decapitated arm held in his functioning hand, huddled against the Conqueror's massive statue, breathing strangely; it was like pebbles rattled in his chest, sounding awful and dreadful. But the man was clearly of Fire; he might have been the most Fire-looking evil he had ever seen in his life.

There was no spirit.

As Chin V opened his hands to dunk the Fire-looking evil in lava, a permeable chill descended over him, and he froze, stiff; he whirled around to gaze at a mass of darkness with ancient lines of eternal energy dashing through the haze of shadows in vibrant patterns.

"Kneel," the powerful spirit ordered with an intensity more powerful than thunder—but it was as quiet as a flowing stream.

Chin V grit his teeth and summoned the strength of the Conqueror within him. "Everyone grovels to me."

"I am not everyone, mortal. Devi vowed your devotion. Prove her correct."

He hesitated, knowing it was likely a trick, but the spirit emanated power he had never encountered before, likely mimicking The Avatar himself. "Devi?"

The spirit peered down at him and seemed to grow taller, looming over him, reaching the height of the sanctum, dwarfing the Conqueror's statue. "You do not know your Elemental?"

"I know who she is," he defended swiftly, feeling a foreign impulse of dread inside him—he hated it! He feared nothing and no one! "I love Devi with the force of my spirit."

"Then love who gave her her spirit with the force of your spirit."

The dread billowed in his heart, despite his efforts; he felt intimidated for the first time in his life. Not even King Bumi—the supreme traitor and murderer!—could intimidate him, but this spirit was something more. "Who are you?"

"He has never encountered power before," the sickly, one-armed man behind him croaked with stuttered breaths, sounding impossibly amused and disgusted. "To encounter power is to recognize beyond yourself and follow the shadow the power casts. He does nothing. Devi was wrong to endorse him."

"He may redeem himself yet," the spirit responded, curious, and Chin V had no idea what was going on. "He must prove himself worthy of the honor."

Chin V glared at the one-armed man, finding it easier to avoid the spirit's gaze. "You are one of Agni's spawns. How did you enter the Conqueror's sacred sanctum?"

"Look at me," the spirit hissed, and Chin V spun around, unable to rebel as his spirit demanded; it was a natural compulsion to appease someone so much greater than himself—it was maddening! He was greater than anyone! He was the heir of the Conqueror and descended from The Avatar! "Are you worthy?"

"Worthy of what?" he demanded, feeling his heart race in his chest. It was a strange sensation; it had never happened to him when he was not conquering someone. "Who are you?"

"You will learn my name if you prove yourself worthy. Are you worthy?"

"Of course, I am!" Chin V snapped, insulted to the core of himself. "I am worthier than anyone alive and dead! I descend from the Conqueror! I am the Conqueror's heir and seek The Avatar's demise!"

The shadows in the sanctum shuddered as the spirit seemed to buzz with excitement. "Yes. The Avatar is your enemy."

"I want him destroyed forever," he vowed with conviction. "Anyone who loves The Avatar is lost to incurable insanity and must share The Avatar's fate, which I will deliver to him—and all those stupid enough to follow him."

Several shadows brushed across his feet and rose, caressing his limbs like a proud mother. "The Avatar will be destroyed forever, but you will not deliver it to him. You can play an integral part in its execution, but you will not be the executor. Can you accept that?"

Chin V felt the buzz in the air and how it was unlike any of his extensive experiences. "I accept—if my role remains integral."

A blanket of darkness erupted, and he fell to his knees in a gasp at the sensation of power—it had to be beyond The Avatar! "You will remain integral as long as you remain worthy and devoted," the spirit whispered. "You are to be my vessel's earthbending instructor. Devi vowed to your success, expertise, will, and genius."

It felt difficult to concentrate with the sensation of power, but he glanced at the one-armed man. "Vessel?"

"I will create my own Avatar, and my Avatar will destroy The Avatar. My name is Vaatu."

"And he is your vessel, Vaatu?" he demanded in disbelief, knowing that he could be a worthier vessel for such an honor than one of Agni's spawns!

The one-armed man glared, though it was weak. "My name is Piandao- "

Chin V glared back at Piandao. "He is of Fire and could never understand such striving. Why should I not murder him now?"

"Your hatred of Fire is less than your hatred for The Avatar," Piandao responded with a slight smile, though his brilliant golden eyes—evil eyes!—were dim with agony. His words were spaced with unnatural length, clearly trying to maintain his breathing with care. "You still seek your life after The Avatar's death; you want to live after The Avatar's demise. I don't care if I die when he does—I want his destruction more than my life." The man gestured to his one-armed state. "He did this to me and made me suffer unlike any man to ever walk this world. I understand this striving. Do you?"

He grit his teeth. "For generations, my line has endeavored to murder The Avatar. We followed the Bitch Kyoshi, the great mother, and attempted assassinations near the end of her reign that failed always, but we endeavored. We fought! We tried! We strove! For centuries now, we have manipulated events and invoked countless strategies against The Avatar. Despite all the deaths of our kin and ancestors, we continue our pursuit. We looked to Roku and attacked him relentlessly! We could not get to him directly, but we murdered his son, only a child, and it was successful, though not glorious. We aged Roku decades in the span of days from his grief! We target The Avatar forever. It is our aim! It is our destiny! I will rob The Avatar of his loins, rip out his deformed heart, and sever his head from his shoulders. We will never stop targeting him."

"But you have failed," Piandao pointed out, chest rattling with each slow, gradual breath he took. "You started your crusade generations ago and have gotten nowhere. Even Roku's son was a most minimal victory. Yet, I have faced The Avatar in combat and would have killed him if my daughter was not a devoted whore."

Chin V's eyes widened. "You almost killed The Avatar?"

A bright light entered Piandao's eyes, casting his eyes with vivid memory. "My lightning seared toward him before my daughter intercepted it and died for her treachery. I have come closer to killing The Avatar than any man in history. You need me, Chin V, and I need you to be my earthbending instructor. I will use your teachings to inflict on The Avatar a vengeance born of generations of hatred and terror."

He stomped his foot, producing a mighty rumble in the earth before he kneeled before Vaatu. "I pledge myself to your cause to murder The Avatar, for it is my cause, but you will be its executor while I help you deliver it."

Vaatu seemed to purr. "Your worth pleases me, Chin V, son of Chin IV, son of Chin III, son of Chin II, heir apparent of Chin the Conqueror. Vengeance will be ours."

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The agony was intense and overwhelming, along with the severe obstruction in his breathing due to all the mountain of powder The Avatar drowned him under, forcing into his lungs; a lesser man would choose to succumb to the weakness of passing out into the realm of darkness, but he was above them all! The pain was good; it meant that he was alive and not dead as The Avatar had wanted him. Gathering all his mental strength and fortitude, Ozai compacted the pain that afflicted him into his decapitated arm that was held in his only hand left; he visualized the pain leaving his body in a noxious cloud of sizzling energy and stretch into the arm until it no longer inflicted him as severely.

But it was difficult and arduous.

He could only follow the conversation between Chin V and Vaatu in limited spaces before the pain returned, which required his focus.

He could not believe how close to death that he had been, how close he still was because of rampant infection. He knew he possibly had days remaining to his life. The Avatar, the boy who had vanquished him at the height of his supremacy during Sozin's Comet, had stolen the very air from his lungs; he had been deprived of life's most fundamental survival tool. He had seen the look of veritable hatred in those terrifying, glowing, ancient white orbs of power.

The peaceful boy-monk had now evolved into a man who killed.

In many ways, Ozai respected that change even though his loathing for The Avatar burned brighter with each passing moment as agony kept trying to distract him. The boy had matured into a man; he was no longer the naïve child who had desperately implored him to stop what he had been doing during Sozin's Comet. Now, The Avatar was a man who knew what had to be done and was not afraid to do it.

It was a change worthy of a king—of a god.

The god.

Ozai knew that, under no circumstances, could he face The Avatar again until he acquired and mastered the remaining elements; he also needed to permanently bond with Vaatu. Twice now, he had battled The Avatar and narrowly escaped from death—only because of The Avatar's leniency. It was not his cunning, power, or strength that had willed himself to survive. The Avatar had willed his survival by deciding for mercy.

It was an abominable knowledge to possess! The Avatar had spared him twice so he could live in shame each time! Only a great man would force on his enemy such a crippling, humiliating state, and Ozai knew it well; he had forced on many of his enemies such states of impotence and powerlessness. But it seemed that The Avatar was a greater man than himself. He actually admired it—admired The Avatar. But he hated him all the same and would forever. He needed to become as great as The Avatar and, thus, destroy him with his greatness, for The Avatar had never truly been challenged in his eons-long existence. No one had opposed him with the depths The Avatar himself possessed. Thus, only another Avatar could oppose him with greatness and cause The Avatar to die, for The Avatar was not familiar with such a struggle.

But Ozai knew the struggle, which would strengthen him to dispute The Avatar's supremacy with storms and tempests.

To do so otherwise meant his death, but his death could only be possibly worth it if The Avatar died with him. He wanted his world and his reign as the new Avatar—for it was Power beyond Agni himself!—and he swore to triumph, but if he had to die, the only satisfactory way was if he killed The Avatar as he was dying.

The Avatar wanted him dead—he had only been spared because of the foolish love for his whore-daughter and friend!— and powerful allies were siding against him; he faced insurmountable odds. The Fire Sages and Dai Li had been killed, and he had to find replacements for his army and power base, those who already had great power but desired more while he healed from his injuries.

It was clear that the Children of Chin, numbering in the millions, would suffice as a new army, but he needed more; he needed the nobles he once praised as Fire Lord to strengthen his foundation. He last knew word that they had rebelled against his son and fled, but he had lost communication with them after The Avatar attacked and forced him to flee.

If they went to Hu Xin, The Avatar would be there and destroy them, which would cripple his army again! Damn The Avatar! Fuck The Avatar!

But no matter how desperately he wanted to fight The Avatar, target his stupid sky bison to distract him, and shoot lightning at him, he had to avoid a confrontation at all costs until he was ready; he could not let his emotions cloud his judgment. Staring down at his abandoned arm, Ozai realized that he would need to play the long game once again, but it did not matter; he had ascended to the glory of the Fire Lord—as was his birthright!—because he was patient. Now, he would call upon that same patience to battle against the stakes that were grander than ever before. He would succeed and, soon, he would become a god and rule the world as the new Avatar as Vaatu's vessel, controlling all of the elements.

Problems still hindered him, though: The Avatar wanted his head and so did his son, the traitor! He was grievously injured, needed more allies, and most pressing, still needed to locate the other two Elemental Spirits while waiting for Agni and Devi to reform from the deaths The Avatar dealt them in a terrifying show.

Ozai tried not to remember being trapped in the clouds, but he had been frozen, confined, watching as The Avatar tortured Agni, whom he loved, dropping that gigantic mountain on him, again and again. Vaatu had refused to help him break The Avatar's hold on the clouds, not wishing to antagonize The Avatar and buy time to plan to appease him and stall his glowing hand, which succeeded. When The Avatar turned his focus to him, he had only survived because of Vaatu's cunning and knowledge, for The Avatar impossibly loved his stupid daughter.

His daughter was dead—or had been dead.

Would The Avatar be able to bring her back? Would he return her in the time allotted to him?

He hoped not, but he knew it was a possibility—though it should not be! Azula made her bed—by entering The Avatar's bed. His daughter chose her fate; she made it her own. She dove in front of the lightning meant for The Avatar and died instantly, body lifeless and broken.

Ozai had been unable to process it; he knew Azula had already betrayed him from her proud confession, but to see the action of her betraying him so boldly, choosing The Avatar at the cost of her own life, astonished him. If he had been wise, he would have fired another lightning strike immediately after, killing the stricken Avatar, who only stared at Azula's body incomprehensibly.

But he had been like The Avatar, staring at Azula's corpse in shock. At first, he thought his lightning had betrayed him, finding an unintended target, but he realized that, fundamentally, Azula betrayed him—again!

She sided with the man who humiliated him and ended Fire's reign of supremacy; she sided with the greatest power to walk the Realms rather than himself, her father who raised her and endowed in her the lessons needed to survive, dedicated his time and energy in her to raise her. But she cast all his lessons aside and died for The Avatar—the opposite of survival! She dedicated herself to being The Avatar's personal whore—it was obvious! He should have recognized her defenses of The Avatar when they met in the Immortal Realm for what they were; he should have discerned the passion with which she defended The Avatar and praised his genius and power; he should have understood why she challenged him the way she did, praising Air's worth, and seeking questions as to his location.

Azula had been planning the attack for months, and The Avatar had almost succeeded in realizing a great victory.

It was a devastating loss, most of all due to his arm, whose loss might kill him from infection and shock, but the only good thing to come out of that clash was his daughter's death. Yet, The Avatar might bring Azula back, though the odds against him were profound and incalculable.

Why did Azula have to be so wretchedly weak? Did she fall for her own seduction of The Avatar? Did she seduce him so thoroughly that she seduced herself into loving him? Why did she love The Avatar enough to betray him, who gave her life and helped make her who she was? Why was his daughter such a miserable failure?

May she stay dead for her treachery! She deserved to die. May Agni let her rot in her dishonor rather than purify her of her dishonor to make her honorable. She did not deserve honor!

She was pathetic!

Either way, Ozai admired The Avatar's brutality in bedding the daughter of his great enemy. If only The Avatar had a daughter on whom he could avenge his profound humiliations The Avatar forced on him!

It was clear to him that his bloodline had failed; he slew one, but another was needed. Zuko must die like Azula. He would need to start over and beget mighty sons and beautiful daughters who would be strong, unlike the legitimate children he had already sired! When Ursa inevitably returned to her rightful place by his side, their union will conceive powerful heirs who will continue his line and legacy for centuries.

"What stops The Avatar from tracking you here?" Chin V demanded, daring to stare at Vaatu with fearful displeasure. "You led him to my kin! You led him to our conspiracy! All the vast increases I have obtained since he murdered Ba Sing Se will be for naught! I am the true King of Chyung, but he will pull me from power!"

Ozai knew Chin V would make a worthy earthbending instructor, but he was unsure Chin V would make a worthy ally. He reckoned if Chin V discovered his identity, he would try to assassinate him, for his hatred of Fire was most evident. He resembled King Kuei in that regard, easily taken in by a story of a man humiliated by The Avatar as King Kuei had been taken in by a story of a half-spawn humiliated by Fire. But unlike King Kuei, Chin V would be a dangerous enemy if the truth of his identity became known.

However, he trusted Vaatu's judgment about Chin V; he would abide by Vaatu's desires—for now.

"The Avatar cannot sense me," Vaatu assured, purple and black wisps of energy wafting off his corporeal form. "He will not find us. He will not discover you and your kin. We have time to rebuild."

"And heal," Ozai coughed out, wishing desperately—almost hysterically—to remove all the powder in his lungs. If the infection in his arm did not kill him, the obstructions in his lungs would. "You promised me- "

"I know what I promised," Vaatu interrupted. "The Avatar must suffer, and he will suffer in his powerlessness to find us and prevent the inevitable. We will bond forever. But you must heal first."

Ozai stared at Vaatu before almost laughing, but he narrowly refrained, knowing it might kill him literally. "You do not know how to heal me, do you?"

The shadows in the room buzzed in aggravation. "I am considering it. The only option I can conceive is to find Tui and La who could heal you."

He glanced at his decapitated arm and saw the obvious; it infuriated and sickened him with hysteria in equal measure. "This arm is rotting already! We do not have that kind of time! We do not know where they are!"

"There may be someone of service," Chin V interrupted, pulling off his cloak, finally revealing his face. Dark green eyes, far apart and strange in size, stared back at him; jagged and gruesome scars crossed over his cheekbones and through his permanently disfigured nose, separating it in slits of jaded flesh and bone. One eyebrow was fixated permanently higher than the other, bulged from the skull, protruding forward in an unhealthy way due to the prominent bones beneath flesh, massive and glaring, obvious to see, and there was little symmetry to his face, framed by black hair with streaks of gray tumbling down the sides.

Even if never disfigured by the horrifying scars through his marred, unsymmetrical face, which looked nearly deep enough to go half-way through his skull, Chin V would have never been a handsome man—he was clearly inbred.

Ozai glared at Chin V. "Who?"

"You have clearly a copious number of injuries, particularly your lost arm. I heard rumors of a great woman who avenged herself on Fire and was imprisoned by The Avatar for her noble efforts. She was an enemy of Fire who dared live in their poisoned lands."

He wracked his mind for any rumors that could be connected to such a woman, but he held nothing. "Who is she?"

"No one knows. I do not know if she is real. Based on what I heard of her capabilities, how she made anyone malleable to her will, I thought her either an Airbender or Waterbender."

"Waterbender," Ozai said instantly. "There are no Airbenders except for The Avatar."

"Then a Waterbender," Chin V agreed. "But she possessed will over the body, using it from the inside. She might be able to do the same for Piandao and fix what is wrong with him on the inside and somehow re-attach his arm. Waterbenders are also healers, too."

A haze began to obscure Vaatu's corporeal form. "I might know where she is."

Before he could say anything, Vaatu disappeared, leaving him along with Chin V, who would undoubtedly murder him if his true identity was discovered.

But he would not reveal his identity; he would hide in the shadows—as Father once taught him when Iroh's light shone so brightly. Father encouraged him to act as the blade in the dark while everyone was distracted by the glorious eminence radiating off Iroh, to seize advantages when they presented themselves, as they did inevitably. It was a lesson that took him decades to learn, but upon his mastery, there was not a more masterful master.

Father's demise confirmed it.

However, it was a mastery that cost him his great love in Ursa, who abandoned him—why, he could never discern beyond a mother's folly, born of a deep shame that ruined her spirit and gnawed at her mind. Perhaps that was Father's last revenge on him for stealing his wife from him, something he was reminded of for so long during his childhood. He took Father's wife from him; thus, Father took his wife from him.

It sounded like Father.

But he would never know the truth until Ursa answered his questions, but she refused to see him after she returned to the Caldera years ago. It was more evidence that shame gnawed her brilliant mind and turned her meek and cowardly. He had always enjoyed Azula because she was like her mother, but she inherited her mother's innate weakness. Both Ursa and Azula possessed a mental frailty that was foreign to him—it did not make sense.

If either of them had lived the life he had, living under Father's dominant but silent gaze and the intensive glare of Iroh's glorious light, they would have shattered under the pressure—it was clear! Both of them lacked strength while holding great power while he possessed strength, will, and ambition to wield his own great power—greater than anyone else but The Avatar's!

But he could not teach Ursa and Azula the lessons necessary as he desired to, leaving them weak and frail in their constitutions forever—they could be so much more if they were like himself! But Azula was dead—and should stay dead; she made her stupid choices. But he would hate it forever; he wished things turned out differently. Both his wife and daughter were lost to him when he did not want them to be—because Zuko got to them first! It was obvious! As he had rebelled against Father and conceived a delicious vengeance against him, Zuko rebelled and conceived vengeance against him!

Damn his son! And damn The Avatar protecting him and who stole his firebending, arm, and army!

Father would probably laugh at his situation, forced to rely on peasants, noble as Chin V was, for aid in his long recovery.

Damn Father, as well—forever.

"Help me," Ozai ordered after several moments, hating how weak and wavering his voice sounded.

Chin V stomped his foot, and the earth rumbled, echoing in a strange way for a long time as Chin V kept the ring in the depths going.

Ozai closed his eyes, barely able to concentrate. "Help me," he hissed.

"She comes," Chin assured. "Look."

He opened his eyes to see a woman enter the sanctum, and he knew instantly that the woman was Chin V's sister; they looked too alike and possessed the bulging bones behind their misshapen eyebrows, making their heads look unnatural. However, the woman also possessed a large nose that dwarfed the rest of her features and did not look in proportion at all, the only difference she held from her brother.

However, Chin V might have possessed the same nose before his injury disfigured and deformed his unsymmetrical face, specifically his nose.

Well, they were both ugly, too; they looked like some paintings he had seen of Fire Lord Kazuki, who, according to some legends, was inbred enough to evoke his madness, though he doubted the legends.

But he did not doubt that Chin V and his sister were equally inbred; their parents were likely siblings or cousins related closely to siblings.

"Help him to a bed and try to make him as comfortable as possible," Chin V ordered to his sister. "He is an ally. We do not want him to suffer."

The woman glared at him. "He is of Fire."

"He rebels against The Avatar and almost killed him. The Avatar did this to him for his rightful pursuit. He is an ally to our vengeance."

The woman's ugly face pinched before she approached him; her slender arms wrapped around him and helped him to his feet. Ozai was ashamed that he needed to rely on her to such a degree.

"We will take care of you, Piandao," Chin V assured. "Once you are healed, I will teach you earthbending, and we will take care of The Avatar."

XxXxXxXxXxX

What had he done—what had he done?

Aang's body trembled in despair as his mind crumbled under the weight of his unforgivable sin—he ruined Air! He destroyed his race! He tarnished his home—exactly like Sozin did! He made sure that Air would never be pure! He lost himself to desire and tied Air to Sozin for all-time! It was a single moment of weakness that would haunt him forever! He was damned—because he damned Air!

He was a rapist! He raped Air! By choosing Azula, by surrendering to the profound temptations that had been gnawing at him for months—since he met her on Ember Island!—he raped Air of its innate purity, soaking and miring it, and there was no absolution for it! Air would never forgive him!

Indra cursed his existence!

Never again would Air be Air; never again would Air bask in its primacy. All Airbenders he sired would spend months in Azula's womb, which was a womb of Fire rather than of Air, a womb tainted by Sozin's evil! His children would absorb all of that evil in Azula's womb and come into the world as abominations, eyes golden like Sozin's rather than gray like Gyatso's! They wouldn't be of Air! They would be mired in filth and depravity! In them would live Fire's victims and Air's conqueror—evil! It would never be all of Air's beautiful monks and nuns who would live in them; it would be Sozin, instead!

It made it all about Fire, but it shouldn't be! It should all be about Air, but Sozin ensured it could never be all about Air!

Damn Sozin! But it should be, damn Aang! It was his fault! He did it again! He destroyed his race again!

Damn, damn, damn himself to the Void of Eternity!

What had he done?

The guilt was familiar but new; he had always been guilty because he killed Air, but he never thought he would kill Air again! He had vowed not to do it. He was committed to never miring Air, especially for the likes of Sozin! When he realized the conclusion of his thoughts about Azula, he was adamant to reject it and prevent it from happening, no matter what! But she kept at him, peeling back all of the hastily erected walls he imposed in front of him and around him.

But it shouldn't have mattered! He should have held firm; he shouldn't have been weak and pathetic—he shouldn't have been that stupid, waste-of-flesh kid! He should have denied all desire and impulse.

He shouldn't have married Azula.

He lost all sense! It didn't go like he wanted it to! It didn't go like he planned!

Before he returned her spirit to her body, he had decided to tell her the truth and be more honest with her—more honest than he had ever been with her since she nominated herself for Mother of Air.

Her death made him realize that everything he wanted wasn't going to leave him like he had been hoping desperately for; he thought if he kept anything from happening, whatever it was he felt for her—madness, obviously!—would go away, fade from his memory and heart, but it was clear that wasn't going to happen. The desire only grew and grew!

He wanted her and no one else.

He prepared to confess his love for her when she returned while also telling her that it would be years before they would marry, while also explaining what marriage meant in Air's eyes, because he needed time—damn Time, for the Tree had allowed all of this madness to happen!—to come to terms with the horror of her lineage tied specifically to Air's new lineage; he needed to come to terms with the fact that, against all his willing and logic, he loved her, even though he shouldn't! He needed to make peace with that before he married her because she didn't deserve to be married to him when he hated her blood—hating part of her.

He knew that—he knew all of it! But he went ahead and married her anyway when she returned!

What was he thinking?

He had prepared for what he would say when she returned, ready to have a conversation where he would tell her the whole truth, but upon seeing her, actually seeing her, seeing her bright, aware, lively golden eyes open, seeing the life of her body, seeing her present when she had been absent for so long—like his race!—and hearing her voice, watching the expressions on her lovely face, he was deprived of all restraint and control.

It consumed him, and he did the only thing he could think of—the single thing he wanted to do and couldn't find the willpower to deny himself. And it felt unbelievably pleasant and nourishing; it felt novel and exhilarating; it felt memorable and redemptive.

It felt also exhausting because he fell asleep almost immediately after it was over—before he realized the weight of the crime he inflicted on Air.

When he awoke from his slumber, he felt different; his body felt different. It had nothing to do with resting after pushing himself so long; it wasn't the fact that he felt rested. There was a presence in his mind; there was a new awareness inside him, and he couldn't think of anything else but it. He scrambled away from her, horrified, ashamed, and guilty, shoulders curling as an unseen burden threatened to crush him.

He couldn't believe it; he was the worst evil to ever walk the world—it was obvious!

Ever since, he stared at Azula's body, unable to leave the tent, though he knew he should. Her body wasn't the same as it was from when before he returned her spirit; her body was obviously alive-alive, looking natural in its liveliness rather than unnatural and stoic. There was a moving, mesmerizing expression on her peaceful face, and he found himself crawling toward her, reaching for her shoulder before he caught himself and cursed.

He shouldn't look at her! Damn it! Why did he keep looking at her? What was wrong with him?

His eyes roamed her body and saw so many more signs of her life, but that wasn't what he wondered; he wondered if it was possible for him to drain her blood of all the blood that she inherited from Sozin, which meant that Air would be free from that rapist.

Then she would be perfect! If she was free from Sozin's impurity, he would feel peaceful and accepting. How could he have married her when he knew of Sozin's influence in her blood, which shaped her for a long time, and would shape his children—would shape Air itself?

What was he thinking?

But he could barely think—except about one thing. His body was primed and ready; his erection felt painful, and he desired release. His mind was awakened to the wonders and dangers of sex, revealing a presence in his consciousness, a weight on his shoulders—and a weight in his testicles, which begged for natural emission of the living seed churning in primality.

He wanted more; he wanted everything. He wanted to wake up Azula and marry her again—and again and again. He wanted to marry her every hour of every day for the rest of his life!

But it didn't matter what he wanted! It must never matter! What he wanted led to Air's ruin—and again when he stupidly married Azula when she returned!

He had succumbed to carnal comfort and damned Air in the process! But he wanted it again! But he needed to think about Air! He needed to somehow annul his marriage to Azula, but Air didn't have such contingencies!

What had he done?

Aang felt his resistance to wake up Azula and marry her again waning dangerously, the very evidence straining against his pants. To prohibit himself from committing another crime, he stumbled back and dashed out of the tent for escape.

But it wasn't escape; it was confrontation!

When he exited the tent, he saw Zuko prodding a fire in the center by the remains of a tree; he swallowed in fear, twisting his body to obscure sight of his evident erection. "Morning," he greeted, hoping his voice was calm.

Zuko raised a half-hearted hand in return. "Please tell me you controlled yourself when you finished."

He blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"Please tell me you didn't follow your instinct for rebirth."

Aang raised his hands in confusion. "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Please tell me you have bad aim."

"What?"

Zuko groaned before shooting an unnecessary blast of flames into the fire; he stared at Aang with knowing eyes. "We can't have a pregnancy right now."

Aang blanched. "You know?"

"Toph," Zuko notified flatly.

Damn it!

If Toph knew, everyone knew! There was no way to undo it! There was no way to make Azula forget that it ever happened; there was no way to pretend it never happened! There was no way to save Air's dignity and freedom!

"Sorry," Aang whispered, not wanting Zuko to be mad at him—like his race undoubtedly was!

Zuko rolled his eyes. "I'm not mad. Surprised, yes, but not mad."

"Really?"

"Yes. Just make sure you don't impregnate her before you marry her," Zuko said, rubbing a hand across his face. "It will be bad to have a bastard running around, especially one so powerful, when I don't have an heir. And this war is no place for a baby, especially a baby of The Avatar and my sister, both of whom are right in the middle of this war. Even when you marry her, don't impregnate her until all of this is over."

Aang blinked and almost sagged in relief. Zuko didn't know what he and Azula's relations meant; Toph had never known the truth of what sex meant in Air's eyes and understanding. No one would know that they were married and he had compromised Air's purity.

"The concubines would drink some kind of tea or something to prevent pregnancy," Zuko continued, oblivious to Aang's mind-numbing reprieve. "But we don't have that now; we can try to get some soon—probably quickly, knowing how quick you are, Airbender. Just wait to sleep with her again until you have that tea. I was raised on stories of how potent The Avatar's seed is."

Aang understood the allusion to Kuruk and nodded. "It won't happen again," he vowed and knew that Zuko didn't realize how deeply he meant it.

"I'm not ready to be an uncle," Zuko muttered.

He swallowed. "I'm not ready to be a father."

Zuko snorted. "No, you're not," he agreed. "This is the wrong time."

Aang thought about all the ways it was the wrong time—because it was the wrong time, literally. It wasn't the time he was born in, where he belonged, where he felt peace and love, and where Air lived and thrived. "Zuko," he said slowly, trying to keep his voice calm. "Can I talk to you?"

Zuko looked up, confused. "We're already talking."

"Talk about something else," he clarified.

"What is it?"

"I know you're less than enthused about me and Azula- "

"I'm surprised," Zuko corrected, shaking his head, face twisting in troubled frustration. "It's just hard to think about my sister that way. I mean, you were doing to her what I'd do to all the concubines. That's hard to think about. It's the same with my mother. I don't want to think about her or Azula doing any of that."

He nodded in understanding. "I don't want to think of Gyatso doing that."

"I'm used to my family being insane," Zuko muttered. "But now you'll be joining the family, right?"

Aang looked down. "Yeah."

Zuko stared at him before laughing; he didn't sound too amused. "Looks like the family will be more insane than ever."

He sighed. "Azula's better. I'm serious. She's come such a long way. You should be proud of her."

"She's better even after being dead?" Zuko challenged, looking desperate. "How was she? Is she herself? Is she in her right mind?" His hands rose in disbelief. "Of course, she was herself—she slept with you! Is she alright?"

Aang stared at him in disbelief. "I didn't hurt her!"

Zuko pinched the edge of his nose. "No, I know you love her. I mean, is she alright, as in herself? Are there any changes since she came back?"

Seeing the fearful desperation on Zuko's face, Aang softened before smiling. "She's herself," he said. "I'm sure there will be consequences to her being in the Immortal Realm for so long, but she's herself. It's nothing she can't handle. I have all faith in her."

Something in Zuko relaxed, looking like he could breathe easier, and Aang felt guilty upon realizing that Zuko had been going out of his mind to know if Azula was herself or not since she returned.

"Good," Zuko whispered, nodding his head and rubbing his face. "I was afraid her mind would break again."

He flinched. "It didn't."

Zuko looked haunted and old. "We saw the effects last time. We were the only ones who did."

Aang recalled his visits to Azula after the Great War; he had visited her a handful of times during his year in the Caldera helping Zuko secure his reign. It was nothing compared to Zuko, who visited Azula every day, but he had visited her, unsure of how to help her. It had been such a stark, sudden change from his memory of Azula during the Great War. The powerful girl who fought him with a cunning conviction had been replaced by a frail girl who stared at him with unseeing eyes with drool sometimes seeping out of her mouth.

He was glad her mind hadn't broken again, either.

"She's herself," Aang repeated, voice stronger. "Her chakras are mastered. You haven't seen her since she mastered her chakras. She's amazing."

Zuko looked hopeful. "Really?"

Aang embraced Zuko from the side. "You're a good brother. Yes, she's amazing. She's of sound mind; she's healthy. She's not at risk from reverting or breaking or anything. I'm proud of her."

"Me too," Zuko whispered, inhaling roughly. "It's been a long road. Part of me never thought she would get better for the longest time. I remember all those times at the Great Gatherings when I'd ask you about ideas to help her."

He recalled the Great Gatherings and shook his head. "I hated those things. I didn't understand half of what was going on. All I knew was that nobody liked each other; nobody listened to me. The Great Gatherings probably made everything worse in the long run. We kept the Great War alive by talking about it all the time. Sometimes you have to let things die, and we didn't let it die; we kept it alive, stimulating its memory in everyone."

Zuko grabbed his bottle of firewhiskey and took a sip. "I just wanted to burn it all down."

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "With Kuei inside, I'm guessing."

"Yes," Zuko agreed with a groan, golden eyes gleaming with memories. "I hated his fucking guts. I wanted to make him eat that stupid crown on his head, make him shit it out, and make him eat it again. I know you don't want to talk about Ba Sing Se, but thanks for killing Kuei. Hearing he died made the tragedy bearable, even if only for a second. I wish I could have seen you kill him."

Aang felt cold recalling the nature of Kuei's death. "I crushed his skull between my hands," he whispered, not knowing why he spoke those damned words—the evil he committed—but it was an impulse he was too tired to deny. "And he was still alive while I did."

Zuko's only brow rose before a look of appreciation crossed his face. "That's creative."

"I was in The Avatar State."

"And terrifying," Zuko added, looking unaffected by the knowledge of the nature of Kuei's death—murder. "I thought about boiling his eyeballs myself; maybe making him eat his own testicles."

"I think about that a lot," he confessed, averting his eyes. "I think about what I did a lot. I lost control. I murdered, and I wanted to. I was so angry—I didn't care. But the problem is—I don't think about it as much anymore. It's been months. It was first on my mind all the time, and now I have to force myself to think about it. That's so wrong. I should think about what I did all the time forever."

"People don't like to think about their mistakes—I don't like to think about my mistakes. You're no different."

Aang shook his head. "I like to think about my mistakes, but not Ba Sing Se."

Zuko's head tilted, golden eyes assessing. "Thinking about Air?"

"That was the worst mistake of my life—so much more than Ba Sing Se. But I know that Ba Sing Se is horrible, too. Ba Sing Se is worse in one way because I knew what I was doing but didn't care. With my race, I didn't know what I was doing. My mistake with Air was out of ignorance, but that doesn't make me innocent. I'm still guilty; I'm guilty for so many things."

"You're the only Avatar I've ever heard of who cares so much. Kuruk never cared; Kyoshi sounds like she was a bitch; and Roku didn't care enough to look for the answers that were right in front of him. But you care, Aang. Not caring enough leads to horror, and caring too much leads to horror. What you did to Ba Sing Se was because you cared too much. Appa was killed, and you loved him so much, that you felt lost and hateful, which turned into you not caring enough about the lives of everyone else."

"I always feel that way," Aang whispered, worn; he should have been killed by Ozai, not Azula. "I cared more about Appa dying than anyone in Ba Sing Se. It was wrong."

Zuko nodded. "It was. But you learn to live with it- "

"I shouldn't learn to live with it; I should suffer as I made so many suffer."

"You already suffer. You made so many suffer because you suffer."

"None of this helps me," he said flatly. "I killed those people. There's no absolution for my crimes. Devi is right to hate me; Earth is right to fear me."

Zuko sighed. "I wish you had concentrated your ire on Kuei only. I don't like what you did, but I understand how it happened—I understand."

He didn't want to keep talking about Ba Sing Se. "Is that how you feel about Azula and me?"

"I don't like how or when it happened, but I will."

Aang didn't like how or when it happened, either—he hated it! "I know."

Zuko laughed and took a long sip of his bottle of firewhiskey before nudging him with a slight smirk. "But you're out here before she is. You exhausted her that much?"

Aang's face flushed before he shook his head, trying not to think of his marriage; he failed in his endeavor. Why did he keep failing when it came to her? Why did he keep failing his race? Why did he keep failing himself? Why did he keep failing Air? What would Gyatso say? "I thought you didn't want to think about her doing that."

"It's better knowing she's herself and not at risk of breaking again." Zuko held up a finger for emphasis, golden eyes serious. "I've always trusted her when she's been herself. Wary, yes, but that's only because it means usually that she's trying to trick me by playing one of her games. But I've always trusted her. I trust her now."

"You should," he agreed softly. "She's trustworthy."

"Toph seems pretty certain Azula's going to be the Mother of Air," Zuko said after several long moments, watching him. "Is that a trustworthy claim. Do you think Azula makes a trustworthy Mother of Air? A trustworthy wife?"

Aang looked away, face pinching. "It's what I want," he muttered.

Zuko's eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?"

He decided for honesty, hoping that Zuko would understand. "I love her but hate her blood."

"If you hate any part of her, you don't love her- "

Aang turned away. "Don't do that. You know it's more complex than that. You love your father and hate him, too—I know you do."

Zuko was quiet for several moments. "But that's a different kind of love. That's a son's love for his father. This is a husband's love for his wife. You can't hate her, Aang, not the blood in her veins."

"That blood is going to be in my children," he hissed. "I don't want it."

"Why?"

Aang glared at him. "Really? You have to ask that?"

Zuko sighed. "I know, but your children would triumph over that."

"I don't want them to have to triumph over that," he snapped. "I want them to be free from that and not have to ever deal with it."

"They will have your blood, too- "

"But only half! And what about my grandchildren? They'd only be a quarter of Air." Aang swallowed and thought of Samir and how her ancestral connection was so weak, making her not a real Airbender; she was only ever an imposter and fraud. "My grandchildren could be more Water, Earth, or Fire than Air—they'd be imposters and frauds, not real. There's something wrong about that. It breaks my heart; it destroys my spirit."

"But you chose to have sex with her. You made your decision- "

"It just happened," Aang stuttered, feeling his heart race. He knew he was The Avatar and could crush Zuko if he willed it, but Zuko was his best friend besides Appa—and Azula. He didn't want Zuko to be mad at him. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

Zuko looked unimpressed. "The others may accept that, but I don't. Believe me, I know everything it takes to have sex. I have a long line of concubines to show for it—all of which I wanted to happen. You wanted it to happen, Aang- "

His fists clenched. "No, I didn't. Or I shouldn't have!"

"Why?"

"She's not pure."

Zuko frowned. "You're not pure, either. Look at Ba Sing Se; look at the people you killed during the Great War. Why does Azula have to be pure when you're not?"

"That's different," Aang hissed. "Don't pretend it's the same. I know you're smarter than that. I'm from Air and of Air; Azula is from Fire and of Fire. This isn't about a single life or single generation. This is about the future of my race. My impurities—which there are many, I'm well aware—won't mar my children like Azula's impurities would. Air must be pure a thousand years from now. Azula's impurities would manifest in my descendants by then—way sooner! I hate that."

Zuko stared at him, face pained and frustrated, and Aang wondered if his friend had ever understood him. He once thought Zuko possessed great understanding of him, but he realized painfully that the understanding was lackluster. "Aang, she's my sister. You have to have faith in her- "

"I have all faith in her! I don't have faith in her blood, which has Sozin! That's what it's all about—Sozin! It's the line of Sozin! It's all everyone has ever talked about with the Fire royal family! And now the only woman I crave to be the Mother of Air is the one woman I shouldn't want!" Aang gripped the sides of his head, hysterical. "What is wrong with me? How can I do this to my race? How can I do this to Air? I love her, but that's not enough! I love Air more forever!"

"You used her- "

"No!" he protested. "I do love her—I really do."

"But you hate her blood."

Aang sighed in relief that Zuko understood. "Yes. I hate her blood."

However, Zuko looked angry; his golden eyes were dark, and his jaw clenched with tense frustration and disbelief. "Then you hate what she is. That's not good enough, Aang."

"But I still love her!"

"You hate what she is and love who she is," Zuko snapped. "Uncle always told me that you need to love what a woman is and who a woman is. You must love her nature and her form—and vice versa for a woman with a man! What you're doing isn't- "

Aang inhaled slowly. "Then you love what your concubines are and hate who they are—because you don't want to know them."

"Yes, but those are concubines, who are, because of what they are, worthless! You're talking about who you want as your Mother of Air—your wife!"

The ground rumbled beneath them as his fists clenched. "Then it matches me! I hate what I am and love who I am! It should be no different for how I feel about my wife!"

Silence.

Aang shuddered with sickness and despair at having vocally claimed Azula as his wife, giving life to the truth of their marriage, but Zuko didn't seem to understand what he had just admitted. "She's my sister, Aang," Zuko said quietly, golden eyes penetrating. "I know my threats mean nothing because you can crush me, but don't hurt her, alright? Get your head out of your ass and start thinking straight."

"I am thinking straight. I wasn't when she got back, but I am now."

"What does that mean?"

He felt panic begin to claw at him. "It's nothing. I'm thinking straight—that's all. I'm in my right mind, and so is she."

"It sure seems like it," Zuko drawled in mockery, irritated.

Thankfully, Azula didn't know what their relations meant in Air's eyes; she didn't know they were married. Otherwise, she would have 'innocently' pointed it out when they were at the Eastern Temple, asking him questions about it as she had 'innocently' raised other topics. She had studied much of Air's wisdom, philosophy, ethics, and teachings, but she hadn't studied everything—she needed a lifetime to learn everything.

Still, while Azula didn't know, he knew—he knew!—what he had done, and it burdened him; it gnawed at him; it devastated him; it broke him.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he whispered, pained.

Zuko groaned, aggravated and frustrated. "Then go ask Katara or something. She should have some answers. She's been dying to talk to you."

Aang located Katara with his earthbending and dashed to Katara's tent, ignoring Zuko's frustrated cry of 'I didn't mean now!'. He burst into Katara's tent and shook her awake. "Katara," he hissed. "Katara!"

She awakened with a shout, eyes panicked. "What? Aang? What is it?" She scrambled toward him, worried. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did you have another nightmare?"

He smacked her seeking hand away. "I need to talk to you."

Katara stared at him before nodding slowly, blinking rapidly to obtain clarity. "What is it?"

Aang didn't know how to begin the conversation, and he wasn't sure if she knew about him and Azula's relations or not; he wasn't going to risk it, though he suspected she did. Toph was never subtle. "It's about my nightmare," he said slowly.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Katara sat straighter, and her eyes roamed Aang's worn face; he looked shaken and panicked. "What about it?" she asked carefully.

"I don't know," he muttered, seeming to curl in on himself.

"It seems like it's something," Katara pointed out, words spaced as she awakened more clearly. The fact there was no emergency relaxed her, but something on Aang's face set her on edge; it was a misery clinging to his flesh, set in his bones, visible beneath his beard. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know how to," Aang said in a rush, eyes raw.

She smiled to put him at ease. "We can talk about something else first."

Aang's gray eyes darted to her face. "Like what?"

Katara inhaled slowly, knowing it was likely the best time—if there was a best time. "You have something that's bothering you, and I have something that's bothering me. I can start first, tell you what's bothering me, and then you can go."

"What is it?" he asked, looking curious—but also distrustful. He clearly thought she was going to say something about Azula, but she had decided not to, even though she disagreed and found the thought of him and Azula having sex horrifying. But Aang made his choice, which she needed to accept, even if she couldn't understand it.

She doubted she would ever understand it.

She hated it.

"It's about bloodbending," Katara began, watching carefully for a sign of eruption. Aang wasn't the boy she remembered, and she needed to keep that in mind. "I don't know how to deal with you using it so easily."

Aang's gray eyes narrowed, and a dreadful light appeared in those stormy depths. "Is this your way of scolding me? Are you trying to say I shouldn't have healed Azula- "

"No," she rushed out. "Of course not. It's just… bloodbending is wrong; it's evil; it's sadistic."

"Bloodbending is bloodbending, a subset of waterbending," Aang said simply, sounding almost uninterested in the subject as he shrugged lightly. "It's nothing more; it's nothing less. It depends on the bender if it's wrong, evil, or sadistic. It's how you use it. Bloodbending has incredible healing potential and possibilities—as you saw with Azula. And didn't you defeat Azula during Sozin's Comet with bloodbending?"

Katara flinched as she remembered summoning what felt like the last reserves of her energy, strengthened by the Full Moon, to freeze Azula in place above the grate, where she imprisoned her in the chains. "Yes."

"Was it wrong to do that? Was it evil or sadistic? Or was it the right, necessary thing to do because Azula needed to be stopped so you could heal Zuko?"

"It was the right thing, but it still felt wrong."

"I can use airbending for evil. I could pull the air out of your lungs right now and watch you die, and there'd be nothing you could do to stop it."

Katara flinched at such a dark thought and how easy Aang voiced it. "But bloodbending is taking away someone's will- "

"Someone's will is to breathe, and I could take that away."

"But you wouldn't."

Aang's eyes shut. "I would—I have. I killed the Council of Five and much of the Dai Li by stealing the air from their lungs."

Katara cringed but refrained from springing back in horror, though it was her instinct. "Oh."

"I also did it to Ozai before he bartered for his life. It's how you use bending that matters, not the bending itself."

"But Hama- "

"Hama used her discovery of bloodbending to harm others, not help," Aang interrupted. "That was her fault, and she is to blame for it. She was weak. But she discovered something that could be good for Waterbenders, for the art of waterbending."

"No, it can't," Katara denied. "I know you helped heal Azula's body with it, but that doesn't mean it's good. It's a power that no one should have. Bloodbending is evil; it's poison."

Aang stared at her. "You can change that. It's up to you. You know bloodbending and can change the perception of it. Hama created it, and you have had the opportunity to pick up where Hama, however misguided, left off. But you choose not to because you're too afraid. Bloodbending can be used to heal, Katara—you saw it with Azula. It can revolutionize healing, but you won't do it."

Katara's face scrunched as she desperately tried to discern a logical refutation, but she couldn't conceive anything; she bowed her head in defeat. She didn't want to agree—she hated it!—but she saw no other choice, especially if she wanted to make headway with Aang in any way. She didn't want to ruin the goodwill that he had given her after sharing his nightmare while he tried to return Azula. "I have focused more on healing since the War rather than fighting. But bloodbending can go so wrong. It can be used so terribly. I can't get over that, Aang—I can't."

Something resembling almost a smile crossed Aang's face. "Which is why it needs to be taught the right way. And I can't think of a better teacher than you. You taught me a lot."

She smiled back, eyes misting at Aang's faith in her; she had forgotten what it felt like. Though she didn't agree with his assessment—would she ever?—his praise was nourishing to her worn spirit. "Thanks, Aang."

"All you have to do is adapt," Aang continued, watching her. "Be like Water. Abandon your fears—cast it all aside. Water is not only about the push and pull but the constant change in the flow of the chi, mirroring Water. Something tells me that most Waterbenders neglect doing that."

Katara thought of the North and its rigidity—and even Water's rigidity as a whole, which impacted the South. "Maybe you're right."

"Nothing is forbidden in waterbending because it is so open to Change. Discovery awaits, and you can teach bloodbending as it should be taught—you can change healing forever.

She felt the powerful impulse to try to hug Aang, but she knew that wouldn't go over well, not yet. "I'll try," she promised, though she doubted she would keep her promise. "It will take some getting used to, but maybe on the next Full Moon, I can try it."

Aang nodded. "Good."

Katara tried to smile, though she felt shaken by her shaken beliefs. "Now, what's bothering you? You said it was about your nightmare."

He looked away. "Yeah."

"What happened in your nightmare? What did you see?"

"I killed Air," Aang said immediately.

She hated the conviction with which he spoke—the utter knowing that possessed him. "No, you didn't," she denied, refusing to ever agree with something so wrong and horrible. "You can say it for a thousand years, but you're going to be the only one who ever believes it, Aang. There's a reason for that—you need to stop believing it. It's not true."

He looked away, disgruntled. "How do you know?"

Katara floundered for several moments before shrugging her shoulders. "You're right—I don't know. But you don't know, either. You weren't there."

"It happened because I wasn't there," Aang muttered, face twisting, drawing her eyes to the coverage of hair sprouting across his face, which masked any minimal resemblance to how he used to look. He really looked like someone else. Only his visible gray eyes and visible arrowhead on his forehead notified her that he was Aang. "I could have destroyed Sozin and his armies if I didn't run away."

"But the armies- "

Aang glanced at her, eyes distant and heavy—but ferocious. "You know what I did to Ba Sing Se. I would love to do that to Sozin and his armies."

Katara couldn't contain her flinch. "Is that what you saw in your nightmare?"

"I saw me destroying Air," Aang answered, voice tormented and raw, agonized and guilty; he looked frantic and stricken. "And I did again. It's always been me. I've always been Air's destroyer."

"You need to stop saying that," Katara said gently but firmly. "It's a lie."

"But I just destroyed my race forever, damned them to exist evermore with the evil that struck the temples!"

Katara stared at him, cataloging his wide, raw eyes and chaotic breathing. "What do you mean, Aang? What happened in your dream? Your dream isn't real- "

"It's real!"

"It's not true- "

"It is true," Aang protested vehemently, voice cracking. "It's not factual, but it is true—it's real. I brought Azula back- "

Katara tried to smile; she found it easier to do than she thought. "I knew you would. I'm so proud of you. I know it was hard."

Aang's face flushed as he fiddled with his fingers, which he stared at instead of her. "Did Toph tell you that I was really happy to see her again?"

She inhaled slowly and tried desperately not to think about Aang—her son!—laying with the woman who almost killed him during the Great War. "She did."

He hesitated. "And you know that means that I- "

"You laid with her," Katara finished, smiling tightly. "Yes, I know."

"It just happened," Aang explained, ashamed. "I didn't mean for it to. But I was so happy to see her. I was overwhelmed. I kissed her, and it got away from me. I couldn't control myself."

She really—really!—didn't want to think about Aang kissing Azula hard enough or long enough for it to get away from him, making him—and Azula, for that matter—lose control. "You love her," Katara observed, trying to keep the pained disbelief out of her tone; she knew she didn't succeed, but Aang didn't seem to notice.

"I shouldn't," Aang murmured, ashamed but adamant; he couldn't look at her.

She blinked and felt relief that Aang understood how insane his love for Azula was. "Because Azula was your enemy- "

"Of course not," he interrupted, irritated. "I don't care about that."

"Of course, you don't," she muttered with a sigh. "Why do you think you shouldn't love her?"

"I love who she is, but I hate what she is," Aang said slowly, gray eyes tentatively meeting her face; he looked hesitant and scared. "I hate her blood."

Katara recalled Zuko's observations about Aang's hatred for Sozin. "Because of Sozin."

Aang sagged in relief. "Yes. And that's never going to change—her blood, which I hate, and I'll always hate it. What she is will never change."

She hesitated. "Toph says that Azula thinks a lot about Air; she talks about it; she understands its wisdom; she cares."

She had asked Toph questions about it after she learned that Azula was back and Aang had sex with her. Toph had assured her that Azula loved Air, no matter how hard it was to believe. Toph said that Azula wasn't lying or performing; she said that Azula was a great liar but not that great; she said Azula clearly believed in Air and loved the wisdom and teachings.

Katara didn't understand how it was possible, but it was possible clearly. She didn't know what that meant. She hated what it suggested—because Azula wasn't worth it.

But she knew she needed to be more open-minded.

Aang glanced at her. "Azula's worthy of me, but she's not worthy of Air and never will be."

She felt lost and struggled for understanding. "Why?" she asked at last. "I know she was our enemy- "

"It has nothing to do with her," he snapped. "It has to do with Sozin."

Katara flinched at the gruesome look in his gray eyes, how they seemed to burst with a possessive mania that howled to Heaven in despairing wrath. "You said you hate what she is- "

"Which is informed by Sozin's presence in her blood—forever!"

"She's not Sozin, Aang. That's not fair- "

Aang turned to her. "I thought you of all people would understand."

Something twisted inside her, gripping her heart. "You think that low of me?"

"You know I do."

What happened to that boy she loved? "We forgave Zuko for being- "

Aang's jaw clenched. "I forgave Zuko for Zuko; I forgave him for being Ozai's son; I forgave him for being Azulon's grandson; but I never forgave him for being Sozin's great-grandson. It's the same for Azula but in being Ozai's daughter, Azulon's granddaughter, and Sozin's great-granddaughter."

Katara stared at him in horror, stricken by the honest, raw, and real sheen in his eyes; she felt its impact inside her, for she knew he spoke the truth to her—for probably the first time ever with true honesty. "What are you talking about?" she breathed. "You always said Air is about forgiveness- "

"Air's not around to forgive anymore," he whispered distantly; he looked bitterly disappointed in himself, resentful but unsurprised; he looked almost near desolate tears. "I'm all that's left, and I'm inadequate; I can't live up to the ethics of my race. I'm a failure in all ways. I destroyed Air again. She's my Mother of Air. What have I done?"

"You brought her back," Katara pointed out, trying to understand, but so much of what Aang was talking about went above her head, exceeded her intelligence in so many ways. "You already said you love her—it's obvious. You just said Azula is your Mother of Air- "

"But she shouldn't be," Aang snapped, anguish and frantic. "I love that she loves Air—I love her because of it and so much more—but this isn't only about me! It's about Air! Air must be free! How can Air be free if their murderer and destroyer lives on in Air's future lineage?"

Katara's mouth sputtered, searching desperately through her mind for an answer, but she had no answer to give. "I don't know," she whispered after a long silence, feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry."

"Azula's helped me more than anyone, but she can't help me with this." Something ancient crossed his sallow face. "No one can. It's up to me, and I'm not up to it. I can't do it. I betrayed my race and home with my own selfish desires; I betrayed my love for them with my love for her—but I love them more forever. And in the moment, I didn't care about betraying them. All I cared about was that she's back, and I lost control—all logic vanished, and I damned Air because of it."

"What do you mean?"

Something haunted and broken flashed in his stormy eyes. "Nothing," he muttered unconvincingly.

Katara felt her concern rise swiftly. "Aang, I can help you if you talk to me- "

"No one can help me," Aang interrupted in a daze. "No one understands—no one ever will."

Before she could respond, Aang dashed out of her tent, leaving her alone.

"Aang," Katara breathed, staring out the opening of her tent as her emotions swarming her. "What happened to you?"

As she anticipated, there was no answer or miraculous enlightenment.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Moon shined brightly; she could feel it but not see it. The Full Moon was rare and, upon retrospection, invigorating beyond anything in her life. Power howled through her veins, but no release would come; the chi-blocking tea forced down her throat every day had made certain of that.

It had been so long!

She could barely remember it, and what she did remember was inadequate and unsatisfying because it wasn't the same—it wasn't the experience! She remembered rather than experienced the Moon, and she knew who to blame for her evil plight!

Katara!

The desire to hunt down the girl she opened herself up to, revealed her teachings born of the South's waterbending, was ever-present in her heart and grew daily with each passing of the Full Moon that did not embrace her as it should. Katara rejected her and made sure that the Moon rejected her, depriving her of her natural inheritance—the connection she would destroy the world over to feel again, even if only for a single moment! But no matter how she willed herself to manifest the connection and purge the chi-blocking tea from her body, nothing happened! She had spent years focused singularly on healing her body of its torture, wielding the power of her mind, but her body never responded as she commanded it to.

She had tried bribing her guards, promising them riches—promising them her body if that was of their depraved desires!—and power, vowing to kill the Fire Lord and place one of them on that cursed Dragon's Throne!

But no one came to her aid; she was ignored, rejected, and shunned—because of Katara!

Katara was worse than Fire! She betrayed Family! She broke their Family! Fire was always the enemy, but Katara wasn't! She was part of the Family, but she broke it for those Fire spawns! It was a betrayal worse than any she suffered in her life, far more than Fire's inhumane treatment of her after she was captured.

It made her resent the connection they shared that she hadn't told Katara. It had taken everything she had not to reveal the entire truth to Katara when she realized Katara was Kanna's granddaughter, but she held firm, knowing the wait was worth it, and it gave her time to measure and evaluate Katara, seeing her capabilities, seeing if Katara was like her.

And Katara was like her, graceful but determined with a resolute spirit—she was a worthy member of her family. It excited her so deeply, and it was only her experience at performing for all those Fire spawn day in and day out that she was able to contain herself and stick to her plan.

After teaching Katara bloodbending, the ultimate inheritance and gift she could give a member of her family, she had planned on bestowing to Katara an even greater gift—the knowledge of their special connection, not only born of being Children of Water.

They were family within Water's Family, sharing blood. Kanna was Katara's grandmother, and Kanna was Hama's little sister.

Both she and Kanna were born in the North to an eminent waterbending family, valued highly in the community. However, when Kanna divulged in a whisper one night that she was leaving for a better life, not wishing to marry Pakku under the restrictions enforced on brides. Hama, yet to be married as her rebellious reputation was well-known, eagerly accompanied her little sistere, paid several Waterbenders to help her with the struggle of traveling the Ocean's expanse, and journeyed with her Kanna to the South, running away from their family to start anew.

She had found love in the South like Kanna did, but her love was taken from her on the same day Fire captured and imprisoned her, separating her from her family—until Katara entered her life, promising something new while reviving the connection that had been stolen from her. But Katara turned her back on her! Katara ruined everything she planned! Katara disowned her! Katara betrayed her!

Katara, her own grandniece, had become the villain in her story, displacing Fire, for Katara cast her into torment and never looked back, never used her mind to think! She was possessed by her heart—like Hama herself had been before Fire destroyed her! It had been her aim to guide Katara to prevent her from walking the same path she did, sparing her grandniece from the horrors Fire inflicts.

But Katara had put her in Fire's hands again, imprisoning her, and depriving her of her natural connection to the Moon!

How she wanted to hunt down Katara and kill her, as Water's beliefs demanded.

It wounded her to do that to Kanna's granddaughter, but she reminded herself constantly that Katara wasn't Kanna—she proved herself a traitor to Family!—and wasn't Hama herself. Katara made her bed and forced Hama to lay in Fire's filth, raped over and over again with each chi-blocking tea forced down her throat every day.

It was only natural to kill Katara—she betrayed Family and needed to be left in the cold alone as punishment to die.

However, even if she miraculously escaped, which became more impossible with each passing day, she would fail to avenge herself. She was far past her prime; her body was in horrifyingly poor health. She was only fed scraps of food and a single sip of water once a day; her strength was nonexistent, but her hate sizzled underneath her thin, unhealthy flesh.

Pitifully glancing to the far-right corner and tilting her head up, Hama desperately yearned to gaze upon the brilliance of the Moon, but it was futile; she was shrouded in complete darkness, alone and hated. The passage of time had stopped mattering years ago. When she had first been imprisoned, she had been able to keep track whenever the Full Moon appeared, but she had quickly lost count after several years into her torment.

Her hate had continued to keep her alive; the Fire spawn had to be destroyed and, furthermore, Katara must realize her terrible error with the skinning of her flesh, cast into the cold for her betrayal to Family!

Ever since Hama had been captured that damned night that was supposed to be the best of her life since she liberated herself from those ships, she had been confined in a barren, cramped cell, forced in a forever-sitting position; she couldn't even stand. Rusty metal plates scraped against her bound knees and while there was a bed in the cell, she couldn't even reach it from where she was locked down. She had been forced to stay in that position, forced to suffer as the Moon's light was taken from her! The clothes that she had been wearing for almost a decade—was it a decade or more because it felt like decades, like the entire length of the Great War?—straight hung loosely off of her parchment-thin body, and her white hair was matted on the floor in clumps, scarcely covering her head as large bald spots littered her skull, furthering the decay of her body.

Hama knew that she wouldn't be able to keep fighting forever and that, eventually, her hate would dwindle and all that would remain of her, the first Bloodbender, was that of a lifeless husk of bones. Justice would not be wrought! Fire continued to exist and Katara continued to be happy, unaware of her sin in betraying Family!

She would give anything to look Katara in the eye, tell her the crime she committed, and kill her. But she couldn't get the opportunity or change the unacceptable reality in which Fire lived because she was locked up in this damned prison—all due to Katara!

"This is most interesting," a powerful voice hissed inside her cell. "Most interesting, indeed. Most promising."

Hama summoned all of her strength to glare into the darkness of her cage. "I'm not dead yet!"

"No," the voice agreed. "You are vigorous and determined—and furious. It is rare to encounter a mortal with such spirit. Take pride in yourself. Few can claim to possess what you so obviously possess."

"Release me, and I'll show you fury- "

"Hey!" one of the guards screamed from outside of her cell, interrupting her. "Stop talking to yourself, you crazy bitch! You keep this up, I'll force that fucking tea between your other lips and literally poison the well!"

Hama snarled, gnashing her rotten teeth together like a feral polardog; she opened her mouth, but no words tumbled past her thin lips as the door to her cell abruptly drifted open. She stared, wide-eyed as light pierced through the darkness of her cage like a silent arrow. It was dim and narrow, but to her, it was Agni—that damned spirit!—itself.

A helmeted head peeked into her cell and more light blossomed as fire spread across the guard's hands. "Hey, how did you do that? Tell me!" The guard stomped into her cell. "Answer me, you fucking crone!"

When Hama glared up at him, he shifted into a recognizable firebending stance, and while Hama tried to seize his body, she couldn't! Katara damned her! She watched her death approach with hateful realization, knowing there was nothing she could do to prevent the inevitable.

Suddenly, the light—the very fire held in the guard's hands—vanquished, and stifling darkness clouded her senses; she could taste it somehow. It was tangible, and she felt shadows caress her broken body. She was incapable of movement or speech; it was so cold, colder than the South Pole! What she knew that she would always remember from that moment isn't the rush of excitement but the pure and utter chill that caused her breath to fog; her soul was freezing over, and shadows drowned her hate-beating heart.

Something rushed around her, and the next thing that she felt was something so unfamiliar that it took several seconds to recognize what it was that she actually felt.

Grass.

Hama saw colors other than red and orange from fire for the first time in years as she gaped at the life surrounding her; her gaunt fingers gently, hesitantly stroked and curled through the long green strands. A drop of water splashed onto the grass, and she realized, with shock, that the source was from her; she was crying.

A brilliant silver glow reflected off of the teardrop and when she slowly looked up, the Full Moon stared back at her with its mesmerizing, hypnotic shine. Her tears came faster, and she wept harshly as she felt the pull of the Ocean through her blood, the power that she had compressed and focused for so many years, the pull of the Full Moon.

"You were denied your nature—the connection to your element," the dark voice consoled from behind her, kind and understanding. "You were dying slowly in agonizing torment. You were told it was for peace, but peace is a lie, for your captor does not spread peace; he spreads terror and wrath. Nothing about your imprisonment was peaceful. It was significant because you were locked away and discarded as worthless when you are anything but with your genius, creativity, determination, and will. I know the horror of unjust and unethical imprisonment."

"That's why you freed me?" she whispered to her savior, unable to look away from the mesmerizing Moon—she would never look away! It was beautiful! It was more sublime than she remembered! It was worthy of everything in the world! "You understand?"

"You rotted for years in your prison; I rotted for eons in mine."

Hama tensed, finding the allure of the Moon challenged by her savior. "Eons?"

"This Realm forgot my name, though I am its creator. I know suffering; I know misery; I know despair; I know torment."

Hama finally, weakly turned around to gaze upon her savior, and her eyes bulged as she swirling darkness rise into a tower of shadows. It was a large floating form of darkness with wisps of ancient, powerful energy emanating off its corporeal form, which stared down at her; it was a spirit. No eyes or face were visible, and the realization was profound. It was not an ordinary spirit; it was of a stronger breed.

"You're a spirit," she dared observe, thankful her voice didn't shake. "I was taught spirits don't feel such things."

"Your education was the life's work of fools and saboteurs who sought power over you. Much has been concealed from you since my imprisonment. The truth has been displaced by deception, propagated by The Avatar. He imprisoned me as he imprisoned you."

Hama's teeth gnashed together. "Katara imprisoned me. She betrayed Family- "

"I know of Katara, and I know that The Avatar endorsed Katara's crime," the spirit corrected sternly. "She is like The Avatar's mother. If he wished it, you would have never been imprisoned and tortured—but he did wish it, as he wished my torment."

Her breathing stuttered in her chest as she remembered that gray-eyed boy, Kuzon, who Katara doted on like a proud and worried mother; she knew it instantly, deep down. She had brushed aside the warnings of the legends about gray eyes—what they symbolized. Water hated gray eyes for a long time in her memory, especially when she reached the South and fought proactively in the War until Fire dominated her and the tribe.

Gray eyes belonged to the Arrowheads, much maligned and hated by her race.

She had thought Kuzon's gray eyes were strange, but she had dismissed him in favor of focusing on Katara, her newfound grandniece who shared a deep connection with her—a connection she had never thought to experience again since Fire raped her.

But those gray eyes, which Water's legends said were the infliction of a destructive storm that crushed children in their parents' arms, and The Avatar had done the same to her because he was of Air like his race, didn't lie; they couldn't lie! The Avatar had crushed her waterbending —her child!—in her own arms as his cruelty was surpassed only by the legends of his terrorizing race!

"That was him?" she breathed, astonished and shaken. She could have killed The Avatar that night when Katara betrayed Family. "That was The Avatar? That boy?"

"Within that boy you encountered is the wrath and tyranny of eons. We experienced his tyranny enough. We will spare others of that torment. We are both free to challenge his tyranny and defy his wrath. I amass power, and you would be a worthy ally."

She almost leaped at the opportunity, knowing she could avenge herself on Katara, but she controlled herself. "Why?" she demanded. "Why free me? I know it's not only because you understand my torment."

"You are a terror in the minds of men, possessing rare power to control and dismantle. The Avatar has spent eons strengthening his grip over the Realms. For anyone else, his grip is unshakeable and unavoidable, but for you, it is permeable. The Avatar's power over the external is absolute, but his power over the internal fluctuates and wavers. He is vulnerable to the internal rather than the external, but the external relies on the internal, making the internal more important and pressing—making the internal a source to attack if possible. Normally, The Avatar's defenses are impenetrable, but you are the master of the internal with your bloodbending talent. You can strike at The Avatar; you can help me avenge all those wronged by him, including ourselves."

Hama assessed the spirit for several moments, hesitating as she felt the weakness of her body. "I'm not the woman I once was, and The Avatar is beyond me." She shook away the memory of that grinning, gray-eyed boy who latched onto Katara with eager comfort. "He's not that boy I met; he can't be. It's been years. He's The Avatar."

It was clear that she had met Kuzon, not The Avatar.

"The Avatar is hailed as a god who evokes destruction and death in his anger," the spirit acknowledged. "Mortals die at his glance. But you are unlike other mortals. You fight. You are a fighter beyond The Avatar, who is born of his race's lethargic aggression and spirit. You avenge yourself of the wrongs done to you while The Avatar refuses to. The internal requires much more fight than the external. He is a master of the internal beyond anyone, indeed, but you are a master beyond him. You are the first Bloodbender, master of its origin and dissolution."

Flattered and awed, Hama felt the spirit's words coil in her heart; she refused to cower and, instead, stood taller at his praise—as much as she could in her frail and broken body to stare into the pure darkness before, anyway. "You helped me already, but you want to help me again by helping me gain vengeance."

"You must give to get and get to give. We can and will help each other. We want the same things."

"Thank you for freeing me," she whispered, overwhelmed. It was everything she wanted! It was too good to be true, but it was true!

The spirit hummed, shadows puffing off its form. "I could never let someone in whom darkness flourishes so abundantly wither away, lost to fallible and flawed memories—as I did for eons. It is a fate I would subject no one to."

Hama's lips quirked. "Except The Avatar," she observed knowingly. "What do you want me to do?"

"My vessel was wounded grievously by The Avatar. He needs healing, which you will deliver. In exchange, you will have freedom of your body and spirit."

"Anything," Hama breathed, kneeling before the spirit. "All I ask is that Fire be destroyed with The Avatar, and that I get the chance to avenge myself on Katara, who betrayed Family and must suffer for it, and I must be the avenger."

The spirit placed a tendril of darkness on her shoulder, and it slithered to touch her flesh. "Katara is an ally of The Avatar, like his mother, which protects her from us for now. We cannot reach her yet, but we will. With your help, our goals will be realized. Once The Avatar is dead, I will enjoy the solitude that was denied me by The Avatar, who threw me into isolation. There will be a new nature to the Realms where Darkness will thrive. There will be freedom and understanding."

"And this includes Fire's destruction?"

"Yes."

Hama felt a smile split her gaunt face in half. "I'm ready to start now."

The spirit laughed, surprising her, and the laugh was booming and powerful; it shook her to her core. "No, you are not ready; you are malnourished. You look like a gust of wind will break you."

"What do you suggest?" She spat, anger bubbling in her stomach, resentful of the reminder of her appalling state. So much had happened to her—because of Katara! "I'm old. Being imprisoned weakened me tremendously. I told you—I'm not the woman I once was!"

"If you retain your mastery of the internal, despite the agony that befalls you, I can restore your body to its healthy condition—as it should be."

Hama stared at the spirit incomprehensibly. "What? That's impossible."

"It is excruciating, not impossible."

"You can do that?"

"Yes."

She felt unfulfillable—or fulfillable, maybe!—longing. "Will I be young again?"

The spirit hummed. "Perhaps. I suspect you will be young again, but it depends on the strength of your lineage and chi. Your body will be transformed to what it would be if you had taken care of your body with a proper chi flow before your imprisonment." The spirit slithered around her with a grace that she had never encountered before; it was mesmerizing to behold. "I will flood your chi with dark energy and, with the combination of the Full Moon's presence, your chi will- "

"Why don't you flood your vessel's chi?" Hama interrupted, daring to challenge the spirit. It sounded too good to be true! "Surely, you do not need me."

The spirit laughed like thunder. "To flood his chi at this stage would kill him; he is too injured. Otherwise, we would not be having this conversation and you would not be free."

Those words left a sour taste in Hama's mouth. "Who is your vessel? Why would The Avatar injure him?"

"Because he challenged The Avatar, and The Avatar hates challenges to his authority and will; he is a tyrant. My vessel is worthy, a disgraced Child of Fire, embraced by no one but himself and me. The Avatar inflicted injuries that would kill any other man, but Piandao is resilient and resolute. He will become my Avatar and master the elements as my vessel, and we will slay The Avatar and his allies, including Katara, whom we will leave to your vengeance."

Hama's heart stirred in delight at such promise. Though she despised the thought of allying with one of Fire's spawns, she hated Katara more than Fire—nothing is worse than betrayal to the Family! "And you need me to heal Piandao?"

"Yes."

Hama knew that her healing abilities were limited, but she also knew that with bloodbending, it wouldn't matter. If Piandao was still alive, his injuries were not too severe. "I agree to your terms."

A throaty gasp escaped her lips as the spirit blurred toward her and brutally sank tendrils of darkness into her body. She wasn't expecting the cold to flood her blood, freezing her in place as shadows engulfed her soul, sweeping into her chi and changing things, fixing what was broken. Pain scorched through her mind, and her jaw dropped, lips parting in a soundless scream; darkness seeped through her blood, and something within her caused her to transform.

Thankfully, it stopped quickly.

Hama fell to her knees and greedily heaved in as much air as she could; she blinked as she saw her hands clench into the grass. Her flesh was smooth and full, untarnished by years of imprisonment and neglect, and the bones beneath her flesh felt strong and sturdy, dependable and consistent. Her bulging eyes roamed her legs that were now full and durable. She felt more powerful than ever before, and her body sang in delight.

She stumbled to her feet with remarkable speed—faster than she had since before she was taken from the South!—and stared up at the spirit. "Water," she gasped in desperation, near hysteria. "My reflection! I need to see my reflection!"

The spirit said nothing and simply looked past her. Hama followed his gaze, and to her shock, a large lake gleamed under the Moon. How had she not felt the water? She reached out and desperately sought to connect with her birthright, but she felt nothing.

"What did you do?" she screamed, whirling towards him. "I can't feel the water! You said- "

"There is a simple solution," the spirit intoned and floated towards the lake, and in spite of Hama's best efforts, she felt compelled to follow.

Standing next to her savior in front of the lake, she stared at her reflection in utter astonishment, deprived of her balance. Even though she fell to her knees, which landed without pain in the vibrant grass, her eyes were riveted on her reflection—it was her as she remembered but thought she forgot!

Her mind rebelled at the impossibility before her—because it was her! She knew it was her, recognized herself, but she never realized how much she had forgotten about her healthy, youthful appearance. Her heart raced with vigor, and tears spilled down her cheeks, which weren't sunken in and wrinkled horribly. Her eyes were more vibrant and livelier, tracing her reflection with reverence.

She was in love.

Her hair that had once been white was black; her bald spots were nowhere to be found as her hair fully covered her head. Her face was unwrinkled save for crinkles around her eyes and mouth; she looked beautiful, like the woman she remembered herself being but thought was dead and gone forever; she looked as she did after she escaped from Fire and chose to avenge herself on Fire, beginning her long span of vengeance.

She didn't dare scrub the tears off her cheeks, afraid if she touched her flesh, the illusion—the wonderful, beautiful, miraculous image staring back at her in equal astonishment, awe, and love—would vanish, leaving her in decrepit misery. "I look as I did when I was in my forties," she breathed in awe and turned to the spirit in disbelief. "How is this possible? How did you…?"

"The combination of flooding your chi with dark energy and your water-touched energy that was already there, with it, too, being a Full Moon, restored your body to its peak condition; if you had taken proper care of your body with a healthy chi flow before your imprisonment, this is how you would look. I merely corrected course. You possess a strong lineage and chi. Not even I anticipated you would look this youthful."

"This is impossible," Hama whispered in shock, incapable of comprehension. "I'm over ninety years old!"

"Benders, no matter of which element, live longer than non-benders," the spirit replied, and she was mesmerized by his words. "Depending on the strength of a bender's chi, specifically the chi flow, he lives longer, ranging from a decade to double a non-bender's lifespan. Fire Lord Sozin is an example of the latter. I believe you might be, as well, though I doubt to the same extent."

Hama's eyes widened in fury. "Don't speak of that Death-worshipping monster!"

The darkness squeezed her in warning. "Know your place," the spirit chided, voice sharp with warning, and Hama swallowed at the power around her, knowing that, even with all her bloodbending, she would die if the spirit wished it. "Never tell me what to do. Sozin was powerful for a mortal—incredibly so. He lived over a century and a half due to the strength of his chi, endowed in him by his prestigious lineage, and he would have lived longer if not for his sorrow. The Avatar, due to his immeasurable strength of chi, has lived for over half a millennium in some of his prior lifetimes."

"What about my connection to the water?" Hama demanded cautiously, wary of her savior. She did not wish to anger him and provoke him to revoke his gift of making her youthful again. "I can't feel the water of the lake that's right in front of me. I need my connection back! Please!"

"Stick your hand in the lake," the spirit ordered, sounding both amused and bored. "There, you will find your power. Embrace it."

Hama's eyes widened, and before she understood what was happening, she stuck her hand in the cool water. It was instantaneous; she felt part of her soul reform, become reborn. Water slowly rose off of the surface of the lake when she clenched her fingers, soothing Hama as her power, indeed, returned stronger than ever.

"Who are you?" Hama whispered because everything that the spirit had referenced shouldn't be known by anyone except by someone ancient. Who was he to challenge The Avatar and understand The Avatar so well? Who was he to be imprisoned by The Avatar for eons? Who was he to know such secrets for bending and chi flow? "What are you?"

The spirit turned to her, and shadows wisped around Hama's legs. "I am Vaatu, the mighty Spirit of Chaos and Darkness, the first of my kind to cross into the Mortal Realm, which I created, eons ago. I was betrayed and imprisoned unjustly by The Avatar for eons. I have escaped and am on a crusade of vengeance; The Avatar will suffer along with those who claim allegiance to him, such as Katara."

Hama knelt before Vaatu as the darkness compressed the air around her with weight and significance. "I am yours forever," she vowed. "I am a Child of Water. My word is my bond," she recited, recalling the ancient oath that she had learned as a child in her healing training in the North; it was to show loyalty to spirits. She had learned it to seek Tui and La's strength to endow in her the energy and wisdom to heal a perilous injury. "My heart, body, and destiny are surrendered to your will, Vaatu."

Vaatu purred, and Hama felt pure darkness wrap around her, taking her to a place unknown, but she felt ready—she was young and vigorous again! Her vengeance burned brighter because of it! She would avenge herself on Fire, The Avatar, and Katara! She willingly placed her trust in Vaatu absolutely; he had healed her, restored her to be beautiful again, and made her stronger than she had thought possible.

She owed him everything; she would love him and be in love with him forever.

"Here," Vaatu whispered, and the darkness vanished.

Hama saw that she was in a small room inside a greater complex, but her attention was taken by the man lying on a cot in the corner, trapped by a metal sheet, which somehow folded around each of his limbs, locking him in place. His skin was pale and burn scars covered his chest and face. Her eyes widened when she saw the man's decapitated arm, and the wounds that afflicted him. The sound of his dreadful breathing, which rattled chaotically with each tentative inhale and exhale, made her cringe.

"Piandao?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," Vaatu confirmed.

She wanted to look away from Piandao—he was of Fire!—but she couldn't. "I understand why he needs healing."

"Heal him," Vaatu ordered, voice echoing everywhere. "Start now. I freed you from your torment, and I can easily imprison you again in that cage."

"This is her?" a new voice asked.

Hama whirled around and wondered immediately if there was more healing she needed to administer, for the man staring at her was hideous with the deformity of his face, riddled with gashes and scars, jumbled from its prior perfection and symmetry. Then there was the bulging of the bones behind his eyebrows, which enlarged the look and shape of his head. His ears also sloped across the side of head unnaturally, large and expansive.

Though his deformed face drew all attention, not his massive ears.

"Yes," Vaatu confirmed. "She is our ally. She will heal Piandao. Hama, this is Chin V."

She steeled herself. "I can heal you, too, Chin V."

Chin V glared at her before shaking his head with a rough jerk. "No. My injuries remind me of what happened to me; they keep my vengeance burning. I will avenge myself on that crooked-eye murderer. I must be sharp."

Hama understood and nodded. "I understand. I will do anything to see Katara and Fire suffer."

"And The Avatar?"

She recalled that gray-eyed boy named Kuzon, a bundle of endless energy. "Deserves his coming judgment."

Chin V looked at her with new respect and interest as his eyes roamed her, clearly taking in the obvious. "Waterbender?"

"I was born in the North and went to the South."

"You did not like the North?"

Hama's jaw clenched at the memories. "I hated the North. They could do so much, but they refused to fight in the War. It sickened me; it disgusted me; it made me furious. My sister and I left for the South, and we fought Fire as we could. I was captured and imprisoned for a long time by Fire."

"And you seek Fire's death for it."

"Yes. A world without Fire is a real world, not whatever this world is."

Chin V smiled. "I like you, Hama. We will have few, if any, problems."

She inclined her head. "I agree."

Suddenly, a woman—clearly Chin V's sister as she was ugly and shared similar disturbing facial features—entered the room and glanced at her. "You are the healer?"

"Yes."

"Your patient needs you," the woman drawled, gesturing to Piandao with a sharp jerk of her head. Hama tried not to stare at the way the large ears quivered from the movement.

"Piandao!" Vaatu boomed, floating over Piandao, and Hama hated that she flinched at the sound. "Wake up!"

Piandao's eyes snapped open, and Hama was instantly struck by the unearthly golden color; she had encountered many of Fire's spawns, but never before had she seen such eyes with that color, burning with unbelievable power, vivid in intensity and depth—they were almost beautiful and mesmerizing. Her first instinct was to attack him—those eyes were unnatural if not beautiful!—but she inhaled slowly to control her fury. Piandao was against The Avatar and had been wounded grievously by The Avatar. Clearly, Piandao didn't care if his race was destroyed, for he allied willingly with those who sought his race's destruction. And she had learned from Katara that Fire's spawns weren't as evil as Katara herself was, who betrayed Family!

She would give Piandao a chance and heal him as he needed desperately.

"What?" Piandao mumbled, voice barely heard; his breathing was awful. "Is she here?"

"She is," Hama confirmed and stepped forward, entering his line of sight.

Immediately, Piandao's golden eyes landed on her, freezing her in place; those eyes glowed ominously. "Prove your identity." A haggard fit of coughing assaulted him, reddening his face, but his eyes retained their ferocity. "Heal me."

Vaatu hummed. "Can you use your bloodbending to heal him and fasten his arm back to his body?"

"My knowledge of the healing arts is limited," she admitted, hesitant to meet Vaatu's form like a beaten child. "I learned everything I could before I left the North, but since then, I have only healed myself, not others. I will do what I can, but it will take a considerable amount of time to heal him, and that's with my bloodbending; the Full Moon is almost over and will not reappear for another month. I can't bloodbend without it. But no, I can't fasten his arm back. I don't think it's possible. I can preserve his arm, but that's it. I can heal everything I can, but he needs more than that."

The air in the room became frigid, and Hama looked into the darkness. "It is possible," Vaatu murmured, sounding displeased. "But it remains improbable until I find Tui and La. Tui and La are the key to healing him. That is our foremost aim now—finding them and securing their alliance with us. Do you know where they are?"

Hama blinked before sagging in defeat. "No. I know the legends that they came to this Realm, but I don't know where they are. I don't know if anyone does."

"The Avatar does," Piandao muttered with a vicious intensity.

Vaatu's shadows writhed. "I will scour where I can while avoiding The Avatar's gaze. I must obtain knowledge of their location, but Wan Shi Tong nor Koh would help me, not for a price I am unwilling to pay. He is my vessel—the only vessel worthy."

Hama knew she didn't imagine it when Chin V bristled at what he perceived as an obvious slight against him. However, Chin V said nothing, standing to the side with his sister, watching.

"Do what you can," Vaatu ordered, sounding final and resolute.

She hesitated. "It will take time," she stressed, daring a glance at Piandao, who stared at her with an intensity she was unsure she had ever seen; she never possessed such intensity, she knew. "To bloodbend, I'm at the mercy of the Full Moon's appearance. I can preserve his arm without the Full Moon, but if you want me to use bloodbending to heal his other injuries, it will take time."

"Time," Vaatu echoed in a rumble, agitation tangible; the shadows wisped off his form. "I once thought Time was only a mortal's occupation, but it is mine, as well. I know Time's unbearable presence more than anyone. I have waited for eons, and I tire of waiting. Your natural talent for and skill with bloodbending is irreplaceable. You are a worthy ally; you are a worthy teacher for when Piandao begins to learn waterbending. You will be his master."

Hama glanced at Piandao, whose lips quirked in something close to a sneer, before she nodded. "If that is your will, Vaatu."

"But the limitations of the Full Moon are a hindrance. You must be stronger. Piandao mastered his chakras with my help, and you must do the same; only then will you possess the power necessary to have no limitations by the Full Moon."

"I am not a teacher!" Piandao snarled and then he coughed strenuously, bringing his hand up to his chest; his golden eyes burned with devouring flames, and Hama wondered at his lineage. She knew Fire valued lineage—as all the races did—but Fire's lineages were paramount for identity and social placement. She had traveled through the Fire Nation during her decades there, always a recluse, always watching, always waiting to strike. She observed so many of Fire's spawns, but she had never encountered a man like Piandao, who appeared so different; he appeared greater than any Fire spawn she had seen. It was like how she realized Vaatu's greatness. As Vaatu wasn't an ordinary spirit but a stronger breed, Piandao wasn't an ordinary Fire spawn but a stronger breed.

It seemed likely Piandao was born to Fire's nobility; his features were memorable and refined. Unfortunately, he possessed a physical beauty that simultaneously revolted and intrigued her.

"You will prove your understanding by teaching her," Vaatu replied. "It will help you retain your mastered chakras. You must be in control of yourself. If you are not, The Avatar will destroy you."

Piandao sneered, staring at Vaatu with remarkable fearlessness. "He almost destroyed me last time, even with my mastered chakras- "

"You lacked mastery of Earth, Water, and Air. Of course, he would destroy you. You must do work. If you want to be healed, you will teach her to master her chakras—as I taught you. Once Hama masters her chakras, she will be able to bloodbend when she desires, no longer reliant on the Full Moon's presence."

Hama's lips parted in shock at such knowledge. "That will make our vengeance much easier."

The shadows exploded off Vaatu in delight, and Hama gasped at the overwhelming darkness bearing down at her; she was being crushed. "Yes. Now the Full Moon is not diminished yet. Begin healing Piandao. I trust that you know what to do."

"I will preserve his arm and start with his lungs first," she decided. "I'll also need to monitor his shoulder and stave off infection."

Piandao nodded. "Get started."

Hama nodded in turn and approached Piandao; his golden eyes glared at her, and she knew that this was not going to be easy, but she would do it to see the Fire Nation destroyed, to see Katara suffer!

As her glowing hands grazed across Piandao's bare chest, she cringed at the severe obstructions in his lungs. "How are you even breathing?" she asked, aghast.

"Willpower. Heal me."

She looked at the metal sheets confining Piandao's limbs—and thus, himself—to the cot. "These sheets will get in the way- "

Chin V appeared and ripped the metal sheets—which, to her amazement, folded under his will, malleable and alive—away from Piandao with a wave of his hand; the sheets floated above Chin V's palm before he crushed his fist, which crumbled the sheets into tight balls of metal before they fell to the floor when he rested his palm.

Katara's blind friend wasn't the only Metalbender, it seemed.

"Most useful," Hama commended before turning back to Piandao, whose intimidating gaze threatened to consume her; she met it with her own. "This will be agonizing," she warned. "It may break you."

"Nothing breaks me but me."

"Open your mouth as wide as you can," Hama ordered and slipped water down his throat once he followed her command. Immediately, she soaked the water into his lungs, pouring it into all crevices to absorb all the powder inside.

Piandao thrashed, and the building shook, but she flexed her fingers on her other hand, freezing him in place with bloodbending—how Piandao's blood sang in her mind! It felt wonderful to use bloodbending again after so long!

She loved Vaatu!

She focused on her task, trying not to drown Piandao, but it was the only way to heal his lungs and return his breathing back to normal. Slowly, she began to pull all the water out, but it was no longer like water; it was a dark sludge that resembled mud more than anything.

Hama didn't know how much time passed. All she knew was that Vaatu vanished along with Chin V and his sister. But she fulfilled her task as best she could, completing multiple runs of drowning him temporarily to clear the obstructions from his lungs, and by the time she was done, his breathing had been restored, though she felt exhausted.

The Full Moon was gone.

Piandao stared up at her with begrudging gratefulness. "Thank you," he murmured, clearly breathing easier and clearer; he seemed to bask in it, sitting taller—if slightly crooked because of the loss of the stabilizing weight of his arm. "The Avatar stole my breathing; he sucked the air out of my lungs and replaced it with all that powder and dust. I want to do the same to him—and more. I expect you will help me achieve it."

His obvious Fire features gnawed at her as she nodded slowly. "You were a noble, weren't you?"

His gaze sharpened, and though danger seemed to cloud the air, particularly with the Full Moon having vanished, she sat still. "Why?"

"I lived in the Fire Nation for a long time," Hama explained, watching him. "I encountered many of Fire. But none looked like you. Your face is different; it's high-born; it's noble—because you're noble."

A light smirk crossed his face. "And if I am?"

Hama's fists clenched. "I would have killed you immediately once. But I learned that the deepest wounds don't come from your enemies but your family. My family betrayed me worse than Fire ever did. Fire never lied about being my enemy, but my family did. I'm going to kill Katara and avenge myself on her. She's my grandniece. She imprisoned me."

Piandao's vivid golden eyes searched her face—for what, she couldn't determine. "I was betrayed by my family, as well," he said slowly, spacing his words. "My son and daughter betrayed me for my great enemy."

"The Avatar?"

When his eyes seemed to erupt with fire itself, she flinched, but no fire blazed or consumed her. "Yes. I did everything I could for them, but they betrayed me. I understand a family's betrayal."

By the look on his face, Hama had the sudden thought that Piandao might understand the betrayal of family better than she did. "I'll help you avenge yourself on them."

Piandao's lips quirked. "I will help you avenge yourself on Katara."

Hama knew a Fire spawn's promise wasn't worth anything, but for some reason, she believed him.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Hunger awakened her—it was a burning fire surging through her trembling body!

Azula scrambled gingerly to her feet and dressed herself, finding her garments—her pants and Aang's old upper garb—strewn haphazardly across the tent. She had not remembered that part.

She ate the first food she found stashed in the corner of the tent, not registering its taste completely as she downed it quickly with the available water, continuing her pattern in a rhythm that slowly satisfied her painful need for sustenance. It almost hurt to eat as her body was clearly not used to it, but she paced herself, refusing to compromise her delicate state.

She had been dead, after all.

Aang's absence was noticeable, and when she investigated the furs, the area he had slept was not warm. It was as if he had never been there, but she knew he had been. She could not have imagined it. Her body felt tender in new ways, and it was not imagined.

She was married.

Azula wondered at the truth and felt laughter bubble within her when she remembered Gyatso's serene, knowing assurances.

She had to find Aang—she had to tell him about Gyatso!

Upon finishing her light meal so as not to overdo it, Azula exited her tent and inhaled the air, which filled her lungs and expanded everywhere, crisp and refreshing, reminding her of the obvious—she was alive. But it was obvious in its impossibility. She should still be dead, but she was alive. Aang pulled her back and brought her back; he had done the impossible for her.

She felt overwhelmed by the implications. No one in the history of the world, to her knowledge, which she was certain was as complete as it could be for the subject, had been brought back from Death. But she had—because Aang did the impossible for her.

Things were different. What she saw and experienced when dead would never leave her—and she did not want it to leave her. Nothing would ever be the same.

It was the first day of the rest of her life—of her new life.

Azula wanted to do the impossible for Aang in turn—she wanted to give to him something impossible for him to know.

She needed—needed!—to tell him about Gyatso.

However, everywhere she looked, she could not find Aang. The remains of Father's camp had been repurposed clearly by either Aang, Zuko, Mother, and Toph. Who else was at the area? Where was everyone? She saw the remains of presences everywhere across the camp, seeing food, drink, trash, and clothes slung over tree branches. But there was no one to greet her; she was alone.

Where was everyone?

Azula waited for several long moments, senses stretched until she heard and felt a light rumble in the forest. She followed the rumble, passing the extensive evidence of the massive battle that had taken her life, and saw Toph crunching a boulder; sweat poured down her face as she struggled, hands trembling as she clearly tried to crush the boulder. Based on the misshapen boulders discarded to the side, Toph had been struggling for quite a while.

"I thought you would be more stubborn than a boulder," she called out.

Toph slackened before she grinned as Azula approached. "You're walking funny," she greeted, eyebrows wiggling as she wiped the sweat from her face. "That's quite a welcome back, huh?"

Azula's brows rose; she wondered if Toph had 'watched' her and Aang's marriage or felt its impact as she left to find the others. "Did you tell everyone?"

"Yep."

"Who is 'everyone?'" Azula asked, unsurprised. "Who is here beyond my brother and mother?"

"Sokka, Katara, and Suki."

Not surprised but irritated by such intelligence, her eyes narrowed when Toph hesitated. "Who else?"

"People you won't be happy to see."

"Who?"

"Old friends of yours."

Azula made the connection instantly, and her fingers curled into fists. "Do you mean to tell me that Mai and Ty Lee are here?"

Toph blew her bangs out of her eyes. "Yep."

She felt the absurd impulse to return to her tent and go back to sleep. "Why are they here?" she demanded through grit teeth. "Did Zuko bring them?"

"He did, but it was your uncle's suggestion. Twinkletoes purged them of Dark's influence or something. They've been here ever since—several weeks, I think. It's been hard to keep track."

Betrayal swept through her when she realized that Aang had allowed the traitors to stay. "Aang let them stay?"

Toph shrugged. "I don't think he was thinking about them. He was worried out of his mind about you. He warned them you might kill them, but they decided to stay. For what it's worth- "

"It is worth nothing," she snapped.

"- they've been helpful. They haven't tried anything. They joined the Order, too."

She recalled Karluk, the former Sage of Water who was murdered by Nobleman Hahn and a mysterious boy of Fire's lineage, who she met in that place in the Immortal Realm and tried desperately to make his voice heard by The Avatar, even in death.

That was another thing she needed to tell Aang.

"Just so you know, the Order was slaughtered," Toph continued. "Decimated. Only your uncle, Master Pakku, and Bumi are left. We've joined it to build it back up again, and Mai and Ty Lee joined, too."

Azula closed her eyes for patience and control. "I do not want to see them," she hissed. "Put them in the ground when I am near."

Toph nodded, but there was something suspicious on her face. "You're not surprised about the Order?"

"No."

"I guess it's hard to be surprised by anything after being dead, huh?"

Azula smiled slightly. "Something like that. Where is everyone?"

"Here and there," Toph said, non-committal.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm trying to figure out how Twinkletoes did it," Toph muttered, looking annoyed and awed simultaneously. "He turned that entire mountain to powder instantly. I don't know how he did it. I'm trying, but I'm getting nowhere."

Azula looked to where the mountain had been—the only mountain to which Toph could refer—and realized it was gone; there was no mountain. She stared incomprehensibly, mind rebelling at the impossible. "Aang did it," she observed distantly, understanding—or trying to. She would never know fully what happened after she died and what occurred during her time in the Immortal Realm in that place of misery. "He went into The Avatar State. Is my father still alive?"

Otherwise, she would have encountered him while she was in limbo. She was beyond grateful she encountered Gyatso instead.

Toph blew the bangs out of her eyes. "Yep. Twinkletoes let him and Dark go so he could save me. I was about to join you, and he healed me. But he had to let them go to do it. Before that, he was slamming that mountain on top of Agni before he ripped him in half—like, actually ripped him in half. Then he made your dad shit himself before he let him go to save me."

"Where is he?"

"How would I know where your dad is? If Twinkletoes knew, he'd go there right now and kill him."

"Where is Aang?"

Toph grinned. "Wanting a repeat? What'd I tell you? Getting fucked good is amazing."

Azula agreed with Toph but shook her head. "Where is he? I need to tell him something."

"He was by the lake the last I felt him." Something anxious and worried crossed Toph's face, which provoked Azula's own worry. "But he's been feeling weird since he got up. His heart keeps going fast before it stalls. Katara was marching everywhere earlier trying to find him, and he ran away from her. Your brother also seems kind of pissed at him."

"Because of our relations?"

"No, it was something else," Toph assured. "I don't know. Maybe Twinkletoes bragged to his face about your 'relations.'"

Azula rolled her eyes, knowing where Toph's thoughts lied. "Unlikely. Zuko would have dragged me out of the tent to lecture me if that was the case—or run to Mother and demand she fix it."

That would be quite the return to their childhood.

"Your mom's not too bad. She was frantic about you."

Something stirred within her—a recognition of truth. "I know. I suppose I must speak with her."

She found herself yearning deeply to speak with her.

"I'd speak with Twinkletoes first," Toph said quickly, face twisting. "He's been feeling funny. And I don't just think it's from the joys of sex."

"I will," she assured, excited to tell him about Gyatso. "Is he still at the lake?"

Toph shrugged. "I don't know. You'll have to go see."

Azula smirked and inclined her head. "Good luck on replicating The Avatar's skill."

"Whatever," Toph muttered, frustrated. "I'd ask him, but I don't think he really wants to remember what he did."

"A wise decision," she praised and began to walk towards the lake.

"It really is good to have you back," Toph called out, kicking her toes into the soil.

Azula smiled slightly back at her. "It is."

She left to the lake to find Aang, determined to tell him everything that Gyatso shared with her. She knew she was inadequate for the task as she still was trying to sift through everything he had told her, digest it, make sense of it, and incorporate it into her understanding.

But she was determined to do so! She wanted to share the truth with Aang. She knew it would be arduous, difficult severely, but she wanted him to have it. There was always something missing inside him, conveyed through the torment and misery in his gray eyes when he thought no one was paying attention. She had always assumed the void lied in Air's absence, but what if the void was due to his lack of understanding about his race, consumed by lies and misperceptions rather than the truth of what happened to Air?

She had to try.

When she reached the lake, she saw Mother speaking with Aang near the edge. However, Mother saw her, and her face brightened before she placed a brief hand on Aang's bare shoulder before whispering something. Then Mother turned and approached her with a wide smile and glimmering, bright golden eyes.

"Mother," Azula began, tentative when Mother was an arm's length from her. "I know- "

Suddenly, Mother pulled her into a powerful hug, and Azula surprised herself by embracing Mother in return equally powerfully; she could not remember the last time she had let herself enjoy Mother's embrace so deeply. "We will talk later," Mother whispered in promise, voice proud but wavering with emotion. "Know that I am beyond proud of you, Azula. I love you so much."

Azula swallowed, relief and joy swirling inside her, and she nodded. "Later," she promised, wishing her voice sounded less strained with emotion.

Mother kissed the side of her head and let go with a smile; her golden eyes were misty—and Azula realized her golden eyes, the same as Mother's, were equally misty. "To see you standing before me, healthy and intelligent, is the greatest joy of my life."

She looked at Aang, whose tattoo of mastery gleamed in the light as he remained shirtless, and she saw scratches on his back that could only be from her fingernails. She doubted he was even aware.

"Mine, as well," Azula agreed softly.

"Prepare yourself," Mother advised, glancing at Aang before inclining her head. "Find me when you are ready."

Mother departed, leaving her with Aang.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Aang thought the lake's depths would reveal to him the answers he needed, for he needed something with depth, but there were no answers; he stared and stared at the lake, eyes roaming his reflection, which was haggard and raw, but there was no sudden epiphany or understanding.

His problem—torment—remained.

He didn't know what to do. There was a pressing pulse against his sanity because he knew the longer he waited to deal with it—to tell Azula the truth—the worse it would become, but he knew—knew!—there was a solution that would appease his fears and save him from agony.

He just needed to discern the solution—because there had to be one!

Why couldn't he figure it out?

"Is everything alright, Avatar Aang?"

Aang glanced at Ursa, who approached him on the shore of the lake, in surprise before looking away quickly; she looked too much like Azula, which reminded him of his abominable crime against his race. "Just Aang," he corrected quietly. "I hate formality."

Ursa laughed. "No wonder Azula loves you. She always hated formality as a child and challenged the boundaries imposed on her. Of course, Zuko was the one who got caught, but Azula was the instigator."

"Sounds like her," Aang said, lips quirking. "She challenges where she can and recognizes when she shouldn't."

"She walks her own path," Ursa agreed. "I believe she got it from my side of the family—my mother, specifically."

"Rina, right?" he asked, recalling Azula's stories of her family. She said she never knew any of her grandparents except for Azulon; she said her mother spoke most minimally about her family, though if she did speak of her family, it was always about her mother, Azula's grandmother, not her father.

"Yes. I am so much like her," Ursa said, staring across the lake. "And Azula is so much like me. We owe much to her. She was alone most of her adult life, but she fought; she walked her own path, as well, even under Sozin's rule where she would be hunted and killed if knowledge of her identity—her lineage—was known. It is a generational memory that endures in her descendants—in myself, Azula, and Zuko. We all walk our own paths and rebel. Though, Zuko is so much more like Ozai's side of the family in all other ways."

Aang understood the allusion. "And you're more like your mother, who was Roku's daughter. You think you and Azula are more like Roku."

Ursa shook her head. "No. According to my mother, she was not like her father at all; she was more like her mother and aunt, both of whom were fearless. She said her father frustrated her with his indolence, which she said was unbecoming for a Firebender, least of all The Avatar. She would beg him to wield his natural authority, and there were times he did, but it was rare. It was not his instinct; it was a learned behavior my mother claimed he learned from her mother and aunt."

His instincts agreed with Ursa's assessment, and he realized he knew Ta Min and her sister in his previous lifetime; he also knew Rina. "Makes sense. In my experience, only someone fearless and challenging could attract The Avatar."

"Sozin's line conforms and refuses to rebel," Ursa continued. "Sozin's line is magnificent—no one in the world can deny it. Its strength and potency are legendary, enforced by the lingering power of all the Fire Lords of Kai's lineage, which exists as memories in the blood, markers of identification. But Sozin's line demands submission to authority, the destiny demanded by the Fire Lord—by the father over his children. Sozin's line exists on the denial of innate rebellion to prevent the line from dying out, preserving Fire in the hands of Kai's heirs; it demands adherence."

Aang nodded, understanding. "Azulon fulfilled all of Sozin's demands; Iroh fulfilled all of Azulon's demands; and Ozai tried to fulfill all of Azulon's demands. It's the cycle, passed down through that lineage and enforced through childhood."

"Yes. When Ozai demanded the same of our children, he encountered the rebellious spirit of my line. Both of my children were desperate to please him—as all children are—but they were hindered by the natural rebellion within them, even Azula. However, Azula was much more clever and cunning—much more like me—in concealing her rebelliousness. Zuko never had that."

"The rebellious spirit is what drew Ozai to you, though," he observed, remembering Azula's own observations of her parents' relationship. "He never had the strength to rebel against his father, but he saw that rebelliousness in you and loved you for it. It was why he manipulated you into killing his father—the ultimate rebellion—because he couldn't do it himself. He never acted against his father directly, lacking that rebellious spirit; he always acted in the shadows through manipulation and cunning, which Azula says he learned from you."

Ursa glanced at him, brows raised; she looked impressed. "You have a keen mind."

He smiled slightly. "Azula taught me a few things."

A warm but saddened smile crossed Ursa's face. "You are correct. My husband is an heir of Sozin, truly—as is Zuko."

Aang thought of the Great Gatherings. "It's probably a good thing Zuko is so obviously an heir of Sozin. Otherwise, he probably would have broken under the strain he was under. It takes strength to rule, and Sozin's line has strength unlike anything I've ever seen."

He hated that strength, though he acknowledged its existence and presence.

Ursa nodded. "I agree. There exists in my line a fragility of the mind—an inability to comprehend the totality of something. It takes tremendous strength to rebel but that is only by meeting the judgments of your rebellion, standing tall and not hiding, embracing the rebellion, but to my knowledge, no one of my line—except Zuko—embraced rebellion so profoundly and openly. It has always been secretive, lacking inherent strength because it is not in the open, judged, assessed, evaluated, and challenged. We have hidden and rebelled always—until Zuko."

"And now Azula," Aang added. "She rebelled to Ozai to his face. She was amazing."

"Thank you for returning her," Ursa said, staring up at him. "I owe you an unpayable debt."

"No, you don't. Even if you told me not to bring her back, I would have done it anyway."

A small laugh escaped her. "Speaking of rebellious spirits."

Aang sighed. "Yeah. Do you know who Ta Min and her sister inherited the rebellious spirit from?"

Ursa's lips stretched in memory. "Their family was descended from multiple Fire Lords, either by blood or through marriage. The foremost Fire Lord from whom I descend is Fire Lord Henjul- "

"The one who ended the Splintering," Aang recalled. "Azula told me about him."

Something delighted and intrigued entered Ursa's golden eyes. "She seems to have told you a lot."

"She has. I hope she tells me more."

Ursa's smile was amused, grateful, and proud all at once. "Your tongue is nimble. My son could learn much from you."

Aang grinned. "I've tried to tell him, but…"

She shook her head. "I believe the rebellious spirit is Henjul's. I have thought about him a lot. Henjul has many descendants across Fire's nobility, but his rebellious spirit, the same one that rebelled so severely and powerfully that it endowed in him the instinct to end the Splintering, seems to have faded in the blood inheritances of the other noble houses. But my mother's family—Ta Min's family—seems to have retained it the most. Within each generation, there has always been someone who carries that rebellious spirit—my grandmother, my mother, myself, Azula, and Zuko." Something disgusted crossed Ursa's face. "Though, perhaps I am wrong about Henjul's rebellious spirit fading in the other noble houses. The vast majority of the nobility betrayed Zuko and fled from the Fire Nation before we came here, rebelling against him."

He nodded, feeling worn by the fact that so much was happening—so much he failed to prevent. "And they go to him because he's familiar to them."

"Yes. There is no other feasible heir of Sozin's line—or Kai's line to stretch farther back—who has the necessary blood and deeds to his name to rally behind except for him."

"That explains where part of his next army will come from, and those nobles themselves will have their own connections that he can use," he pointed out idly, watching the air ripple across the surface of the lake. "I won't let anything happen to Azula this time—I swear on The Avatar."

Ursa stared up at him, unreadable; he had no idea what she was thinking. "My mother admired a man she knew a single day; she said she could have loved him; she said her memory of him stayed with her all her days. I believe she never married because she stayed loyal to him in her heart."

Aang glanced at her, incredulous. "A single day? No one is loveable in a single day."

"I agree. But my mother spoke of this man, whose name she refused to tell me, on days her pain overwhelmed her; she wanted to hold his name in her keeping forever, holding onto her memory of him. He saved her from an execution; he affected her life in profound ways, which made her loyal to him."

"She wasn't loyal to your father?"

"All I know about my father is what my mother told me. He was a powerful Firebender whose love of firewhiskey was unsurpassed. His love killed him. But he never had my mother's loyalty, not like that man did."

Aang frowned. "What are you saying?"

"You have Azula's loyalty," Ursa said, turning to him with those piercing golden eyes. "Does she have yours?"

He tensed. "More than anyone alive."

Ursa smiled, but those eyes retained their analysis. "Why are you out here? I know how you welcomed my daughter's return and gave to her and you pleasure neither of you have ever known. Why are you not with her now, enjoying each other again?"

He really didn't want to talk about his marriage to Azula with Azula's mother. "She died for me," he muttered, looking away. "People need to stop dying for me. My loves have all died for me and because of me. My love could kill her again."

"Passion kills, not love."

Aang rolled his eyes. "Fire teaches that passion is everything—Azula told me. Passion is love according to Fire."

Ursa smiled slightly. "Passion is part of love; it is the beginning of love. But love changes. How I love my children is different from what it once was; how I love Ozai is different from how I first loved him."

Aang looked at her, eyes narrowing. "You love Ozai?"

Ursa stared back. "Yes."

"You know what he's done- "

"Yes."

His fists clenched, and something dark thrashed inside him at Ursa's apologetic but unashamed look. "You're one of those who would have loved Sozin, aren't you?"

"Likely," she agreed with remarkable ease. "Sozin was beloved by the vast majority of my race. My mother was the only one I ever met who spoke poorly of him." She shook her head. "Not a day went by where she did not curse his name and decry him as inbred and born of Agni's anus. But I do love my husband. We shared a life together; we made memories that each of us cherish, even now; we made wonderful children in whom we each see ourselves."

"I'm going to kill him," Aang said, watching her. "I'm going to kill your husband."

Ursa's face tightened before she nodded with a jerk. "I know. He made his path, and he chooses to walk it. But I will still love him all my days."

Aang shook his head in disgust. "Because he has your loyalty like that man had your mother's and I have Azula's."

"You understand," she commended, running a hand across the sleeves of her robes. "I know Ozai is not worthy of my loyalty, and I know that man was not worthy of my mother's loyalty, having obtained it in a single day. It is all absurd—I know. But that does not change the fact that my husband has my devotion. But you have the chance to change the cycle, Aang; you must change the cycle. You must be worthy of Azula's loyalty."

Aang stiffened. "You think I'm not?"

Ursa's golden eyes were kind but sharp. "Zuko told me what you told him about Azula."

His eyes shut in frustration. "That was supposed to be private."

"You should know that nothing is private in a family. You are part of this family now."

Aang's eyes widened in dread that Ursa knew he was married to Azula in Air's eyes. "What makes you say that?"

She waved a hand. "Zuko has spoken of you for years. He considers you his brother. And with your connection to Azula now, it is assured."

He felt relieved that she didn't know about his marriage to Azula—no one could know! "What did he tell you exactly?"

"You love my daughter but hate her blood," Ursa said knowingly, and Aang almost sagged in relief when it appeared that she wasn't going to shoot lightning at him. Hopefully Azula would have the same reaction when he told her the truth. "Zuko said it smells worse than a dragon's shit."

Aang nodded, eyes squeezing shut. "I know. Believe me, I know. But I do love her—you must know that."

"I do, but you hate her blood."

His jaw clenched. "Yes."

"Do you hate my blood?"

"No."

"Do you hate Zuko's blood?"

Aang kept his gaze on the lake, refusing to look at Ursa. "Yes."

"Because of Sozin?"

"Yes."

"He murdered your race, not Zuko or Azula- "

He shook his head, already knowing where the conversation was going; he refused to madden himself again. "I'm not talking about this with you. You're not going to understand."

Ursa frowned. "She is my daughter- "

"This isn't your conversation to have," Aang snapped, daring her to disagree. "I know you're rebellious—I admire that you're rebellious—but this isn't the time. This is bigger than Azula and me. This is about my race, which is so much greater than a single person, no matter how amazing she is. It's forever my decision to make."

"Yes," Ursa agreed sharply, surprising him. "It is your decision. You have decided to hate my daughter's blood."

Aang grit his teeth. "What would you have me do? Accept her blood, which would live in my children—in all of Air for the rest of the history of this Realm—as it is? To accept her blood means to accept Sozin, least of all to be tied to Air forever. I'll never accept Sozin, and that's a damn good choice to make. Don't you dare say it's not!"

Ursa sighed. "I cannot imagine your torment- "

The ground quivered beneath his feet before he caught himself. "Then stop talking about it like you understand it! You have no say here. I know you think you do because she's your daughter, but you can't say anything. This is about Air—only Air. Anything else is redundant and worthless."

Her eyes narrowed. "My daughter is worthless?"

Aang's fists clenched. "Next to Air, yes. She's worth more than anyone else, but not next to my race."

Flames licked at Ursa's fingertips; outrage burned in those fierce golden eyes. "Azula died for you- "

"I know- "

"You clearly do not!"

"You're her mother," he hissed. "I don't expect you to understand. She's foremost in your mind. My race is foremost in mine; my home—my love! You don't have to agree with it—you don't have to approve of it—but you will accept it and stop challenging me."

Ursa's lips thinned before she looked away. "You are not like my grandfather. You wield authority naturally and with undeniable power."

Aang felt weary, though he wouldn't apologize; he was tired of apologizing, especially to those who didn't and couldn't understand. "I didn't used to."

"Azula loves you," Ursa said after several long moments. "You have her loyalty. Do not be like my husband and be unworthy of it like you are now."

"I know it's worth nothing, but I agree with you," he shared half-heartedly. "I know she shouldn't be my Mother of Air."

"Has it occurred to you that the problem is not Azula, least of all her blood, but you?"

Aang felt ancient. "I know I've been the problem ever since I learned I'm what I am."

"Yet you do nothing to change that."

He felt a light sneer form on his lips. "And I suppose you have 'changes' to recommend I make."

By the look on Ursa's face, he was correct. "If you would hear me out. I know Air is- "

"I like you, Ursa," he interrupted. "I really do. You may not believe me, but I like you. You remind me of Azula so much, and you murdered Sozin's son—I like you. But you don't talk about Air; you don't talk to me about Air. It's insulting to us both—far more to me than you. You don't know anything about it or what this means."

Ursa nodded slowly, annoyed, but she let it go thankfully. "But Azula can talk about Air?"

"She's studied it and analyzed it," Aang defended. "She understands a lot. I love her for it."

"Do you think she will understand how you can love her but hate her blood?"

Aang sensed Azula approach with earthbending and airbending and based on Ursa's eyes darting past him, she saw her. "I don't know."

Ursa placed a hand on his bare shoulder for a moment. "I think she will understand—if you are wise in your explanation."

Aang nodded, but he wasn't sure he believed it. Because they were married, which only he knew, it changed things. He loved both Azula and Air, but he hated Azula's blood, which was part of her; he hated nothing of Air. He would always love Air more. It would be agonizing to him, but to preserve Air's purity and primacy, to save his race from being mired by Sozin forever, he needed to annul their marriage somehow; he needed to find a way within Air's eyes to rescind his disastrous mistake.

He didn't know of any ways how he could do that and stay within the rightful confines of Air's laws, but he would find a way—he needed to! It was the only way to save Air! Thankfully, she didn't know about their marriage, so he wouldn't need to explain everything to her—but he would know forever. He knew it would haunt him, but he knew even more that it would haunt him so much more if he continued their marriage and marred Air in Sozin's evil.

Ursa left him, and Azula replaced her a minute later.

He felt Azula's eyes on him when she stood next to him, taking Ursa's position, but he knew if he looked at her, he would ruin Air again; he would want to marry her again. Thus, he kept his gaze on the lake. "I yelled at your mother," he admitted, ashamed.

Azula laughed. "Did you firebend at her?"

Aang closed his eyes. "I came close at a point or two."

She smirked. "No wonder we get along so fabulously."

"She wants what's best for you," he observed, voice quiet, almost mournful.

He knew that he wasn't what was best for Azula.

"My decision to make," Azula dismissed with a wave of her hand as she stepped closer to him.

"Make a wise decision," Aang recommended, unable to look at her. He knew he should tell her that it was unwise to choose him, but he couldn't do it; he lacked the will to do it.

"Did you sleep?" she asked, and he heard the frown in her voice.

Aang shrugged slightly. "A little bit. I woke up while you were still sleeping."

"How do you feel?"

He almost looked at her in surprise but barely managed not to. "I should be asking you that. How do you feel? Do you need to rest or- "

"Aang."

Against his will, powerless to resist, he turned to her; he saw everything he loved about her staring back at him, presented before him, and he consciously reminded himself persistently that what he hated about her was still there, even though he couldn't see it; her blood remained.

Sozin remained!

There was something strange on her face as her golden eyes—why were they so mesmerizing?—assessed him, roaming everywhere in what seemed like suspicious concern. "I rested enough. I know you did not. Toph said you rested only twice while you searched for me."

"I took breaks," Aang defended half-heartedly.

"You must take a break now. You need rest."

Aang's eyes roamed her face before looking away. "It doesn't matter. I never rest. I haven't rested since I woke up in this damned time."

"Toph says you feel funny."

"I'm fine," he dismissed, turning to her. "I'm worried about you. It's so good to have you back."

Azula shrugged one shoulder intentionally with a light smirk. "I owe you all the thanks in existence." She approached and surprised him by embracing him, laying her head on his chest, and Aang responded instinctively and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight; he didn't want to let go. "Thank you, Aang," she breathed, voice heavy and tight. "I wish I could offer so much more than gratitude, but all I can offer to you is my thanks. Thank you."

Aang felt raw, and he squeezed her tighter, feeling her curves beneath her garments, remembering how she felt against him during their relations. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "You died because of me- "

"For you," she corrected.

"But still because of me," he pointed out, voice agonized. "You only had to die for me because I was stupid and wasn't paying attention; I was distracted. I gave you death."

Azula shook her head. "I hold no regrets nor fears. What happened to me was a riveting experience. Nothing kindle's your life's flames like Death. I understand now; I understand so much. I think I see Life as it is."

Aang wondered at her, but there was a clarity in her golden eyes that he wasn't sure he had ever seen in anyone else—well, except for Gyatso. But it had been so long—too, too long!—since he had seen Gyatso's eyes. He would give anything to see Gyatso's eyes again as vividly as he saw Azula's eyes staring back at him. "Really?"

A swift, vigorous nod answered him. "I was aware of being in that place; it was like I was in the Immortal Realm when we visited the Face Stealer—as real to myself as I am now. I realized the truth of things- "

"I realized the truth, too," Aang interrupted. "I always doubted your nomination, and I told you that."

Azula's smirk was half-hearted. "Repeatedly."

"But I never told you that I loved your nomination at the same time," he confessed, watching as her golden eyes glimmered with pleasant surprise and intrigue. "It's amazing—you're amazing. The fact you love Air as you do and work to understand it makes you better than anyone alive."

"Prodigy," she boasted simply with more than a hint of pride.

"I love you," he continued in a whisper, watching her. "You know that, don't you?"

Azula was quiet for several moments, watching him, eyes searching his face. "I had suspicions," she said quietly before sighing. "I began to think that it did not matter if you loved me."

Aang shook his head. "I know why you began to think that, but you were dead. I lived while you were dead, and that was horrifying; it was wrong and evil. And I keep living in times that are evil and stupid! This whole time I woke up in is wrong and evil, and I'm tired of it; I'm sick of it; I'm disgusted by it. I hate this time; I hate this place; I hate this damned world. I always knew that, and I'll never deny it."

Her face tightened. "I suppose not," she agreed.

"I hate everything about it and everything it is," he said quietly, trying not to get lost in her eyes—because he knew if he did, he would marry her again and spit on his race again. "But I didn't think it could ever get any worse; I didn't think anything more could be taken from me because I've already lost everything. But it got worse when you died—you were dead just like my race, my home, my time, and Gyatso. But unlike them, I could return you, and I did. I'm so happy you're back. This time, world, and place is unbearable to me, but you make it tolerable. I love you as much as I can."

"And your capacity to love me is less than my capacity to love you," Azula finished knowingly.

He inhaled roughly, wishing it wasn't cruel, but he knew it was. "You know I can't love you like I love them. I'm never going to have peace, not without them. I'm not—it's impossible. But I have happiness with you. It's not enough for Air, no, but you're enough for me. You make me happy."

Azula sighed, and something unreadable—something daunted but determined, perhaps—crossed her face as she gripped his hands. "I know. You make me happy, as well, but, Aang, listen to me—I saw- "

"I know you experienced terrors in the Immortal Realm," he interrupted with a fervid, haunted desperation rising within him—it was too familiar to deny. "I know you saw things you can never unsee, and I'm sorry that you saw all that because of me. I saw things I can't unsee, either; I saw your absence; I saw what my life without you in it is like. I want you in my life." His hands rose to her face and framed her cheeks reverently, fearful she would vanish. "You have to know that."

"I want you, as well," Azula said quickly, almost in a rush. There was an insistent urgency on her face, which he didn't understand. "But I never knew all of you because I did not know Air, despite my yearnings and investigations. But now I know, Aang—I know."

Aang felt wary at the excited look on her face. "Know what?"

Azula's golden eyes were delighted and wondered. "I understand now. I saw- "

"You've understood so much—and so much more than anyone else," Aang whispered. "I'm sorry I never gave you understanding in return; I'm sorry for a lot of things."

Most distressingly and profoundly, he was sorry he made her Mother of Air.

"I am sorry I never understood as well as I could have," Azula retorted. "I experienced wonder while in that place in the Immortal Realm."

"In your limbo," he supplied.

Azula nodded. "Yes, my limbo. I saw things I can hardly explain, but I must tell you; I must explain—to you and no one else. You are foremost." She inhaled slowly, emotions cycling over her face, conveyed through her vivid eyes, so quickly that he, despite being an Airbender, couldn't keep up. "I saw people—other dead spirits—and shared conversations. I saw your race; I saw the airbending children of your generation—Air's last generation; I saw them, Aang. I chased after them when they ran. They were alive in front of me, and I understand finally what it is you lost; I understand who you lost." Her fingers brushed his cheeks and gripped tenderly; there was a gentle knowledge in her eyes as she stared up at him like she had never stared at him before—like no one had ever stared at him before. "I am so sorry, Aang; I am so sorry that you lost everything; I am so sorry that you lost your love, home, family, and understanding; I am so sorry that you lost Gyatso- "

Aang's eyes slammed shut, and a haze obscured his senses as his hands fell from her cheeks like she burned him; he shoved her hands off him with a rough flourish. "You saw them?" he bit out in horrified disbelief and jealousy, struggling to keep calm. Why did she get to see his race? Why did she get to chase them like he so desperately wanted to chase his old friends like he used to at the temples by the airball court?

"I did," Azula confirmed softly.

He staggered away from her, betrayed. "You saw them? How? Why?"

Why was Azula given that chance and not him? It was clear in its honest intensity—she had stolen it from him! If he had died rather than her, he could have seen his race again! She did it on purpose! She deprived him of his peace on purpose!

She sabotaged him!

"I wish you could have been with me," she said mournfully, and he knew she was being honest and truthful, knew she regretted he was denied the opportunity, but it gnawed at him—it broke him that she got the chance that he had wanted since he awakened in evil from the Iceberg. "You would have loved it."

Aang crumbled to the ground, body betraying him—like the Tree of Time had by giving Azula the chance It had denied him! He squeezed his eyes shut with such force it was painful, but he kept them closed, unable to look at anything that wasn't his race. Why—why? "You saw them," he muttered, voice choked. "The thing I've wanted more than anything, and you got it."

Azula sat down next to him slowly, and he felt her pleasurable warmth, but it brought no comfort; it made him feel colder. "If I knew the conclusion of my experience, and knew you would experience the same, I am unsure if I would have saved you from Father's lightning. I want you to have that chance to speak with them. They are so wonderful. I am so sorry you lost them."

"They hate me," Aang whispered with pained conviction. "I know it. I keep doing everything wrong. I can't even die like they did; I can't do anything right."

Her forehead pressed against his bare arm. "I am sorry," she breathed. "But they do not hate you. When those children saw me, they fled in terror—in possible hatred. They would have never done the same to you. They would have embraced you; they would have loved you; they would have welcomed you."

"Maybe," he muttered, unconvinced. He knew his race hated him—he knew it, deep down.

"But do you know why they ran?"

He knew instantly. "Because you're you—obviously of Fire."

When his eyes opened with effort, Azula pulled her forehead away from his arm; she looked saddened but enlightened. "Yes. And it is the same for you, yes? I know why you resented my nomination for Mother of Air—I understand now. They saw me, realized what I am, and ran. And that is why you ran from my nomination—like those children ran from when they saw me. They ran because they did not want Fire touching Air—touching them—again, and that is why you ran. You do not want Air touched by Fire, least of all forever."

Aang's breathing became rushed as he tried to imagine it, saw his race—saw the boys he played with as a boy!—run from Azula because they knew what she was. "They ran because they smelled Sozin on you," he hissed.

Azula blinked before hesitating. "Perhaps. I think they ran because I am so obviously of Fire. I do not think Sozin had anything to do- "

"He has everything to do with it!" he erupted, and the water in the lake churned behind him. "That's why I ran. It's all about Sozin."

She nodded. "I know. But it relieves me that you are willing to look past that."

Aang stiffened at her words and how serene she looked; truly, she looked relieved. He realized with horror what her rationale had to be. She must have conflated his willingness—his eager willingness—to lay with her, which meant marrying her, as a sign that he no longer cared about her blood, that he was 'willing to look past' Sozin's presence and memory inside her blood, which she would pass to his children.

Damn!

But he still cared—he would always care! The blood in her veins ruined the greatest wonder the Mortal Realm ever knew by murdering Air, and he couldn't let it happen again when he revived his race! He wanted her as Mother of Air, but she was the wrong mother to choose—the wrong wife to nurture his seed! Why did he marry her? Why did he lose his reason? Why did he surrender to carnal comfort?

Why did he love her? Why couldn't he just look past the blood in her veins? It would make everything so much simpler and easier! It would let him sleep at night! Why couldn't he be lazy and ignore all the small things that were wrong about her and embrace all the countless things that were wonderful about her?

Why did he have to love his race so much? Why did he have to care so extensively about Air's future and purity?

He knew the answer immediately and would never forget it—because he had failed Air once and refused to fail Air again, no matter if it was agonizing. Whatever agony he felt about Azula and his situation was nothing compared to the agony his race felt as they were slaughtered and hunted down without him there to protect them! He deserved all the agony in the world for his crimes, the foremost of which was murdering his race and then ruining them again by marrying one of Sozin's heirs!

Suddenly, Azula gripped his hands, and her golden eyes gazed up at him with excited enlightenment. "But it was not only those airbending children I saw. I encountered so many spirits, including the Fire Sages I killed- "

Aang sneered. "They deserve the Maze of Thorns. When all this is over, I'm going to put them there."

He was also going to put Sozin there because he was certain that Agni hadn't put Sozin in the Maze of Thorns—where he belonged!—but he wasn't going to tell Azula of his intentions for her great-grandfather.

Maybe he would throw Sozin into the Void of Eternity—he liked the sound of that.

"They do not matter," Azula dismissed. "I learned so much about Air, Aang. I learned the truth about Air."

Aang stiffened, and he couldn't prevent the roar of the lake as water exploded in the air from his frayed temper. "Truth?" he erupted, air beginning to howl in his displeasure. "What truth? I know the truth, and I've told you the truth!"

How dare she, descended from Sozin—from Sozin!—tell him the 'truth' about Air as if he didn't know it!

She hesitated, and something wary and tentative flashed in her golden eyes. "Your race was not how you think. They failed; they fell. Their mistakes damned them, not Sozin. You must understand—I learned the truth from…" She trailed off, something like dread on her beautiful face, born of a haunting, suspicious realization.

"From whom?" he demanded, that dark sensation gnawing at his restraint, writhing inside him—he would obliterate such evil misunderstandings about his race! The air screeched everywhere, and he imagined the justified chorus of his race, who would be appalled at such evil misunderstandings about them. "Who? Tell me!"

Azula's face closed off before she shook her head. "Spirits I encountered," she said vaguely.

So enraged at the fact that there were people, even dead spirits, who told such lies about his race, he found himself deprived of speech. He twisted his body, jerking away from her with more physical force than necessary, almost shoving her away, as he readjusted his position; he sat in the familiar lotus position.

Azula stared at him, aghast. "What are you doing?"

"Being an immortal," Aang muttered, recalling Zuko's advice about immortality versus mortality. "I've denied myself what I've wanted too long. Ever since I woke up in this damned time, I've denied myself—I'm sick of it. I'm not doing it anymore. I'm taking control."

"What does that mean?"

He glanced at her before looking away quickly, finding the sight of her painful. Why did he have to love her? Why did he marry her when he wasn't ready? Why did he do it? He damned Air like all those foul spirits cursed Air's existence! But he would show those spirits Air's might! He would show those spirits Air's perfection! He would show them everything! He would show them why Air was better than them! He would show them that Air should never be disrespected!

"It means I'm going to make an example of them."

Azula stared at him before her features pinched, and she nodded. "I will join you- "

He stiffened as she began to put herself in the lotus position. "No," he hissed, reaching out to stop her, but the moment his hand touched her hand, he flinched and pulled back, scorched. "You need to stay here."

"You know I can help- "

"You've spent too much time in the Immortal Realm as it is," Aang said quickly.

"So have you," she pointed out, brows furrowing. "I will help you, and it will give me time to explain what I experienced and learned. If you meet who I met, you will learn the truth, Aang. Air was murdered, but they fell generations previously."

The rage began to seep through, but he no longer cared. The pain swarmed him, slipping through the cracks in his mind, and he laughed brokenly. "The only one who fell is me! How dare you believe that dragonshit!"

"Aang- "

His fists clenched in his lap as the lake responded to his rage, swirling angrily and violently; the earth beneath and around them cracked ominously and angry; heat emanated off him in his wrath; and the air felt pressurized, even to him, as furious tears welled in his own eyes.

"Stop it," he ordered, not caring if his voice was like a lash. "Stop talking. You don't understand Air at all!"

Azula—his stupid, treacherous wife!—looked frantic, like she realized she had already committed to her treachery and could only embrace it. "Aang, please. If you listen- "

He felt his anger reach new heights and he was tempted to give into the power of The Avatar State that was so close. He felt fire roar in his blood, demanding to consume and destroy hindrances as a starved babe. He felt the quivering air in Azula's lungs; he felt the earth beneath them both; and he felt the blood in her body with The Avatar State so close, already beginning to strengthen his body and spirit.

He felt her heart beating rapidly with dread.

"Let me come- "

He snapped at her blasphemy. "You're not going!" he shouted, glaring at her. How dare she insult Air? How dare she degrade his race? "You're staying here. If you follow me, I'll banish you back to your body."

Azula's face tightened, and her golden eyes danced with ire and worry. "This is not wise- "

"I'm sick of being wise! Wisdom has never gotten me anywhere! Wisdom won't bring my race back!"

Her face shuddered. "Aang, nothing will bring your race back—for the race you hold in your keeping is not your race as they were."

Aang cringed before he stared at her, betrayed. "You believed those spirits?"

Azula's jaw clenched before she nodded. "If you let me explain- "

"There's nothing to explain!" he roared, the ground rupturing around them in quakes, and the wind was a blanket of pressure and presence, whipping Azula's hair everywhere, making her eyes, which stared at him desperately, water. The truth was blinding to him—it was the truth he never wanted to be true but always knew it was! "I knew it," he breathed, stumbling back, tripping over the cracks and crevices he had inadvertently created, horrified and stricken; the betrayal surged through him like the evil blood surged through Azula's veins. "I knew it—you're just like Sozin. You want Air murdered again. You're sabotaging Air again—you started the moment I raised you to eminence! You're doing it already. I knew it; I knew it!"

"No," she hissed urgently, eyes bulging in panicked denial. "Aang! You need to listen to me!"

"I'm not listening to you!" Aang sneered, hating her in that moment almost as much as he hated himself. "You spit on the memory of my race! My home! Gyatso!"

"Gyatso agrees with me!"

No words passed his snarling lips, but the wind answered for him; its howl intensified in a soothing roar that matched the ferocity in his heart. Azula's mouth opened, hair blowing back, as she tried to speak, but everything was too loud, even when she clearly tried to scream at him in desperation; he refused to hear more of her lies. But he remained deprived of utterance, betrayed and furious, that she would go so low as to tarnish Gyatso's wisdom and kind nature, sabotaging his memory of the man he loved more than anyone. Something fractured in his mind, and he quivered in place, unable to look away from her. He had forgotten one of Air's most primal teachings—Evil comes always disguised as a beautiful woman. And he had surrendered to it! He had sinned grotesquely, committing a crime unspeakable—worse than Ba Sing Se! Because Ba Sing Se didn't matter at all, not like Air!

Only Air mattered! Air—Air! His race—his race!

"What have I done?" he breathed, trembling.

He had ruined Air by marrying her! He ruined his memory of Gyatso—because she already started sabotaging Air the moment that he made her Mother of Air! His suspicions had been correct from the start! She was out to ruin Air! She was just like Sozin!

Aang had no idea what Azula saw on his face, but something terrified flashed over her blood-drained features as she reached for him. But he sprang back and vaulted over the massive lake with airbending, going and going! When he landed on the ground, he didn't look back and took off in a blur, running as fast as any Airbender or Avatar to ever exist.

He had to get away—away!

XxXxXxXxXxX

Azula stood to her feet from where she had been blown back by Aang's airbending and stared across the lake where he had disappeared, wondering why she thought he was ready to learn the truth. "Damn it," she hissed, frustrated with herself.

She should have known! But she had done it, regardless—though, she had not gone all the way, unable to.

How could she tell him? How could she do it? How could she intentionally ruin that which he loved most? She was willing to compromise his perception of Air, willing to challenge him and push him, but she found she did not have the will—courage—to tell him about Gyatso, who was the one behind her newfound enlightenment about Air, which enraged Aang. How could she tell him that his father—the man he loved more than anyone alive or dead—disagreed severely with his judgment about Air and his race? How could she ruin his perception and understanding of Gyatso?

"I could not do it," Azula murmured, staring across the lake, thinking of Gyatso and hoping he somehow heard her—though she knew he did not. Karluk's desperate and unheard cries to The Avatar revealed that Gyatso would never hear her. "Forgive me. But I cannot. How do I do that to him? How do I hurt him to his spirit? I would rather he hate me and blame Sozin for Air's murder than lose the love he cherishes and holds tightly in his keeping."

Air taught that Truth was foremost in understanding, and she knew Aang knew that, but how could she tell him the truth that she learned—from Gyatso, no less—about Air? If he knew it was Gyatso, he would listen—or perhaps he would not once she started, condemning her as a deceiver who sought to belittle and distort his memory of his father, whom he loved profoundly.

Azula's fists clenched before she shot a brilliant wave of fire across the lake, dismayed. "I should have been wiser," she muttered, irritated—and fearful.

Aang had looked at her with such betrayal and rage—even terrifying hatred—before he ran off, leaping across the large lake in a single bound and disappearing in the distance in a blur; it was so impossibly different from how he stared at her in awe and love when she returned to her body.

Why did she ruin that? Perhaps she was trying to ruin Air, like he judged.

No, she was trying to ruin his perception of Air so he could come to understand Air. But it was not her place to ruin his perception of Air. It should be someone else's place, someone who was not descended from Sozin. But was there anyone alive who was worthy enough to ruin his perception of Air so he could come to understand Air? King Bumi came to mind, but even if she told him what Gyatso told her, she had the suspicion that she would revive the Scourge of Fire—Fucker of Fire—and die from his wrath. Guru Pathik was another possibility, but Aang had made his feelings towards Guru Pathik more than clear while they stayed at the Eastern Temple.

"He wouldn't listen to me, either."

Azula stiffened in surprise that someone had snuck up on her and whirled around; she stared at the Water Tribes peasant-bitch—Katara—who stood with distance between him. Katara's posture was tight and guarded, but she approached slowly, and Azula let her.

"He is stubborn," Azula observed, watching her, aware that with such a large amount of water so close, Katara could attack her, but she decided to wait. She knew her body was likely unready for combat, but she would fight if she needed to—something that Air had forgotten, according to Gyatso. But more so, she learned other things about Air—from Gyatso. She did not want a fight with Katara—unless necessary. Gyatso had taught her that perception did not mean understanding.

Perhaps her understanding of Katara was wrong.

For so long—nine years—she had considered Katara her ultimate enemy, the worst thing to ever happen to her. When she imagined the enemy, she saw Katara with eyes as cold as the water she wielded violently; she remembered her body freezing impossibly during Sozin's Comet, immobile, and no matter how frantically and hysterically she commanded her limbs to move, she was unable to, stricken by a terror enforced by Katara's clenched, quivering fingers, elongated in unnatural arcs; she remembered her imprisonment in the chains she could have melted, but her exhaustion and despair were too potent and overwhelming, facilitated by her eyes watching Katara labor desperately over Zuko—her brother!—with glowing hands for so long until Zuko began to move.

She had tried to kill Katara in the Agni Kai against Zuko, knowing it would hurt him, which she wanted after he had left her alone with Father—again! But Zuko bore the severity of her lightning for Katara, which made Katara her enemy—because it was Katara who wounded Zuko mortally, not her! Katara had provoked in her brother the desires of love and affection, which provoked him to save her life when Azula threatened it, but if Katara had never done such a thing, Azula could have killed her without trouble and accepted her loss in the Agni Kai.

But Katara changed everything.

After Zuko sacrificed himself for Katara, Azula had been unable to believe it, unwilling to force herself to accept the reality that she had killed her brother, whom she loved more than anyone in the world and wanted back on her side—as it should be! His motionless body, stiff and crumpled unnaturally, haunted her forever, and upon seeing him in such a state, which Katara had caused—not her!—her mind cracked further. But her aim changed swiftly upon realizing Zuko was still alive, revealed by his twitches and head rising slightly, straining.

Her goal was simple—protect Zuko from Katara, who was the cause behind his mortal injury! If Katara got close to Zuko, she would harm him more and finish her perilous treason against him! She would drown Zuko under her disregard and think it a loving act to end Zuko's misery and give him a peaceful death.

Azula refused to let the bitch do it!

Thus, Azula attacked with the ferocity of her heart and madness of her mind, not caring about the Fire Crown, Dragon's Throne, or Father. All she cared about was saving Zuko's life! All she cared about was Zuko! Her attacks were wild but focused only on Katara, who defended desperately, barely able to, movements jarred and panicked, but Azula attacked again and again—again and again! It was no longer about mimicking her katas, trying to live up to her lineage, or trying to fulfill Father's demands for perfection.

It was only about Zuko, and Azula refused to fail!

But when she was certain victory was hers, which meant she could kill Katara and return to Zuko and bring him to the family physician, who had always healed their injuries as children, where he could heal, the powerlessness seized her; she could not move, despite her hysterical efforts—because Katara did something, body positioned in a new way, hands stretched unlike anything experienced. And in Katara's eyes was grim determination and frantic urgency as she forced Azula into those chains, imprisoning her, leaving her in a state of lethargy.

She had lost—Zuko was dead because of the bitch!

But Zuko was healed because of Katara—it was clear.

Her perception of Katara had been as the enemy, but her understanding of her revealed that Katara was the girl who saved her brother's life, even if she had been partly responsible for provoking in Zuko such desires of love and gallant protection.

But Azula had fired the lightning—like Father fired the lightning at Aang, which Azula took. She understood better her brother's decision to save Katara on that day. For saving Zuko's life, Azula realized she owed Katara a chance—a chance. She had to give Katara a chance, and she would, though it would be likely most difficult and possibly violent.

Katara shook her head with a forced smile. "He's a lot more stubborn than Toph, which I didn't think I'd ever say."

"How much did you overhear?"

"I didn't overhear anything," Katara corrected. "I just watched him get angry and run off. He used to always run off rather than fight. Maybe it's a good thing he did it this time."

Azula frowned. "Or more dangerous, considering what trouble he could get himself into."

"He won't get in trouble- "

She snorted, watching Katara carefully. "He looks for trouble. He did not use to, no, but he embraces it now. It lets him unleash his ire."

"But he won't go far," Katara assured in clear denial of what Aang was capable of. Azula wondered what Katara thought of Ba Sing Se's murder. "We all went exploring the area while he searched for you. There's nothing here, and he left Appa. He'll come back."

The realist in her almost pointed out that Aang could effortlessly circle back around, get on Appa, and fly off before any of them realized what happened, but she did not give life to such a morbid—and possible—thought.

"Why are you here?" Azula asked instead, almost suspicious. If it was a way to attack her with no witnesses, it was an excellent strategy, particularly with the large source of water in the lake so close. "Why are you talking to me? The last time we encountered each other, you wanted me dead."

Katara nodded. "I didn't want it, but I wouldn't have raised any objections if someone killed you. But I learned things during these past months. I think I've learned a lot. Things are much more complicated than I once thought."

Azula recalled Gyatso's revelations to her about Air. "It is a painful but fulfilling realization. I wanted you dead for a long time."

"I would have felt relief if I heard you died for a long time."

She glanced at Katara, one brow raised in challenge; she felt intrigued. "Did my death please you?"

Katara winced. "It didn't please or displease me. I felt sad because of how broken up Zuko and your mom were about it—and your uncle, too. And Aang when I got here. But about you for you, no."

Azula stared at her for several moments before shaking her head. "Your honesty is surprising."

"So is yours. You really seem to understand Aang."

"I have been with him for a year now," she commented idly, staring into the distance across the shimmering lake where Aang had vanished in a blur, though she kept her awareness focused on Katara in case of an attack. "That is why I dread where he has gone."

"He can't go anywhere- "

"Where he has gone in his mind. The mind is a terrifying place—I know that better than anyone—and his mind, born of genius and transcendence, is beyond anyone else's. The places he can go are more dreadful than what I experienced."

Katara wrapped her arms around her middle, dismayed. "I hate that you understand him. I should understand him more than you. I hate that he forgives you for all your crimes, that he loves you and lays with you, while he can't forgive me for my mistakes."

Azula's jaw clenched, unsure if honesty was wise, but she recalled Gyatso's honesty and made her decision. "I hate that I owe you a debt."

Astonished blue eyes glanced at her. "What debt?"

"You saved my brother's life," she whispered, finding the strength within herself to keep their gazes locked. "If not for you, he would be dead—by my hand. You saved him and, thus, Fire. Without Zuko and his great strength as Fire Lord, Fire would have been hunted; my race would have faded from the world's memory—like Air. You prevented that by saving Zuko's life; you prevented the greatest sin of my life. But that is not only why I owe you a debt."

Katara swallowed, but those eyes were more analytical, assessing her—for a sign of dishonesty, likely. "What else?"

"You saved Aang from a madness worse than anyone in the history of the world," Azula observed, remembering that boy she encountered as her enemy during the Great War. She had imagined what it meant to be The Avatar almost daily with the power of the world in his hands, but she had never imagined him as Aang, as someone like her who possessed fears and expectations impossible to defy; she never imagined him as agonized and tortured in his soul; she had never imagined that he performed for others, behaving as if he was adjusted and healthy, happy in the damned time he awakened in, accepting of his race's murder, and serene in his impossible isolation and loneliness; she never imagined him as flesh, bones, and blood. She never knew his name during the Great War; she never knew he was called Aang; she knew him only as The Avatar. "You were his mother after he awakened in a world wrong, unnatural, imbalanced, and evil. You embraced him in comfort and soothed the torment consuming his spirit, conveyed by the tears that flowed out of his eyes, which you brushed away. You were his mother; you loved him when no one else in this time was capable of that kind of love for him. You saved the world by loving him." Azula inhaled slowly, the truth blinding her. "Because Gyatso loved Aang, Aang can love me—and I love him. Yet, there is more to it; I skipped a section of the lineage. Because Gyatso loved Aang, you could love Aang, and because you loved Aang, he can love me. The essence of his love and how he understands it lies in Gyatso forever and always, but you played a bigger role than anyone else but his father. I owe you because of that. If not for you, if not for the love you offered him freely and showed him, I am unsure he could love me as he does."

Katara was quiet for a long time, blue eyes distant and misty, staring into the distance. "I never thought of that," she whispered finally, looking overwhelmed. "I just did what I could. I wanted to be there for him. He was such a kind and sweet boy; he was so innocent and fun. He didn't deserve any of what happened to him." Katara's fists clenched at her sides, and Azula was aware keenly how the lake roiled slightly. "He didn't deserve to see Gyatso's skeleton at the Southern Air Temple and see the ruin of his home—the ruin of his race. He didn't deserve any of that."

"He did not deserve it," Azula agreed. "I want to help him, and I will help him. I know you do not believe me—I do not care that you do not believe me—but I love Air and its precious wisdom. Air is freeing but stabilizing simultaneously—Freedom itself. But I owe you my thanks—thank you for doing what no one else was capable of then. You saved both Zuko and Aang—the two men who matter to me more than anyone in my life. I owe you an unpayable debt."

Katara looked tense, and she clearly did not like the direction of the conversation. "I think you're lying to me," she said slowly, blue eyes suspicious and looking over her. "I know you believe you owe me a debt because you're of Fire. But I think you hate that you owe me a debt of such magnitude. I think you would rather I be dead than alive and reminding you of your 'debt.'"

Azula smiled tightly. "If you died, I would not care."

"I think I'd feel sick if you did care."

"I am not offering to pay a debt," she clarified. "I refuse to pay a debt. But I am grateful for your kindness to me, though it was never aimed at me; it was a periphery kindness, never direct. Yet, I thank you for saving Aang and Zuko, for they matter to me more than anyone."

"I don't like that Aang loves you—he shouldn't love you."

Azula's brow rose in mockery. "A son's love for his mother shifts always from his mother to his- "

"You don't deserve his love," Katara interrupted, face like stone, but her eyes burned. "He has so much love to give, and I don't know why he chooses to give you so much of his love. He exhausted himself more than anything I've ever seen trying to find your spirit, and he succeeded like I knew he would—but it was all for you."

"Are you asking me to prove myself?"

"Yes, I am," Katara defended with eased conviction. "You have to prove you're worthy of his love."

Azula's eyes narrowed. "I must prove nothing to you. You do not matter; you hold no sway; you do not hold Aang's ear. You approached this in a position of severe weakness. The only one I have to prove my worth to is Aang, and I have. Though my death was not meant to prove my worth and loyalty, as it was meant to save his life, it did."

After all, Aang had married her immediately upon her return—the obvious was clear. She was his chosen Mother of Air, and he accepted her; he loved her.

Katara bit her lip before straightening. "But I'm asking anyway. I know you want to pay your debt to me. It eats at you, doesn't it? Because it's 'honorable' to pay debts- "

She refrained narrowly from exhaling sapphire flames in frustration. "Do not pretend you understand Fire's customs, beliefs, and traditions. You are not that intelligent."

"I don't understand as much of Fire as you clearly understand of Air, but I've been asking questions- "

Azula scoffed. "To charm my brother? Your affection for him is obvious—almost as obvious as his for you."

As expected, Katara took the bait as her eyes widened, and she glanced back in the direction of the camp, as if she expected to see something new. "It's obvious?"

She rolled her eyes, wondering how such an emotional girl could have ever defeated her, even with a splintering psyche. Furthermore, how could have such an emotional girl caught Zuko's eye, who was notorious for his disdain for emotional girls? Rumors reached her ears during her imprisonment from the nurses, who would speak to each other about daily events or imminent political events, in which Zuko, when several of the noble girls who threw themselves at him, gushing of their profound love for him and devotion to the Dragon's Throne, ordered their dismissals from the events.

Then again, it was Zuko, poor dimwitted Zuko, who could never resist a kind and gentle disposition, so it made sense he would hold such disgusting affection for Katara.

"I grew up with him," Azula said flatly. "Yes, it is obvious. He was willing to die for you. I know him. To quote him exactly as he once told me, he does not 'give a dragon's shit' about someone else's life if it puts his danger. My brother is a survivor—we both are. Yet, Zuko was willing to cast aside his survival instincts for you. Only a fool in love would do such an exceptional thing. Believe me, Zuko is both foolish and exceptional; he always has been—it is quite the fascinating combination."

Katara opened her mouth before glancing at her, startled, before she shook her head with an expression of exasperation, annoyance, and amusement. "You're distracting me."

She should have known her brother would love a peasant with more than an appealing face and figure. "I wanted to spare you your madness," she drawled. "I know the impact of madness. I was paying my debt."

"Nice try. To pay it, you need to prove yourself worthy of Aang's love. It's honorable."

Azula grit her teeth. "The last time I attempted to prove myself to someone unworthy of it, my mind broke."

Katara smiled thinly. "Doesn't that mean you're unworthy to begin with?"

Despite her best efforts, she felt grudging respect for Katara. "Your opinion of me is worthless. I do not care to change it. Aang loves me. If you love Aang, you will accept it."

"I already do accept it. If I didn't, I'd be attacking you right now. But I'll never agree with it or approve if you don't prove yourself worthy of his love."

Her brow rose. "Why would I care if you agree or approve? You hold no power here; you have overplayed your hand."

Katara was quiet for several moments. "To prove you can. I wonder if Aang accepted you because he's attracted to you."

"Of course," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "That played a role, certainly."

"But I'm not going to accept you because of that—none of us will."

"I do not care if you accept me. If any of you die, it is of no concern to me."

"What about Toph? She says she's your friend."

Azula's jaw clenched. "Toph is a friend—you, your brother, his wife, Mai, and Ty Lee are not."

Katara's brows rose slightly—why, Azula did not know. "You need us to accept you. Really, we need to be able to accept you—because this war is bigger than last time. It's scary. We need all the help we can get, and you're really good help—if you can be trusted. Either way, we're both going to be here; we're all going to be under the same roof, so to speak. While you were 'gone,' Aang told us that you're not the problem; he said the problem is that we all have to learn how to coexist on his side—because we're all on his side, including you. You dying for him willingly and intentionally more than proves that you mean what you say about being on his side. It proves you're serious; it proves you won't betray him or anything. But what it doesn't do is prove that you won't sell us—me, Sokka, and Suki—out if it benefits you while thinking it helps Aang. You may be willing to make some 'sacrifices' for the good of the cause or something, and we can't have that; we can't have you thinking that me, Sokka, and Suki are expendable when we're all needed for this."

"I thought your complaint is that I am unworthy of his love," she drawled.

"It's both. You're not worthy because I don't like you," Katara said, shrugging slightly; she looked unapologetic, and Azula respected it. "If you prove you can be a good ally to all of us, not only Aang, I'll start to like you, which means you'll be worthy of his love. You have to contribute and be a willing member of this group, which is one big family- "

Azula rolled her eyes. "I should have known this was rooted in Water's love for Family. It is too bad you ignored such love with Aang for so many years. Where was the family you promised him? Yes, he told me about that."

Katara's blue eyes flashed, jaw clenched, and Azula smirked in triumph. "At least I tried to do something even though I couldn't understand it. You spit on trying to prove yourself to us because you can't understand it. Zuko always says you're intelligent, but I don't see it. All I see is fear."

"Caution," she corrected with a disgusted sniff. "I am cautious of offers from those unworthy of my regard."

"Kind of like how Aang was when you offered to be Mother of Air?"

Silence.

Azula forced a smirk. "I see why Toph respects you—and why Zuko is so taken by you."

Unfortunately, Katara did not take the bait. "Aang can't have a family because his family is dead—I never understood that, but I get it now. But he has friends in us, and he says that's what Air is all about—friendship. If you love Air as much as you say you do, you'll try making friends with us. I'm offering you a branch here, but you would rather burn it than accept it."

She looked away, disgruntled. "Such a generous way of offering that branch," she muttered.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Katara challenged, looking both helpless and frustrated. "We need this to work, somehow and someway, and only I'll take the step—I know it. Sokka and Suki won't do it. It falls to me to do it. I don't like it, but this is the only way this can work. Because while we both wish the other would leave, neither of us are leaving—we're not leaving Aang. We all need to learn how to coexist on his side—like he said. We did it with Zuko in time. Maybe we can do it with you. It will be harder because Zuko's likable and you're not, but if you- "

Azula scoffed, insulted. "I am much more likable than my brother; he is not likable in the slightest."

A strange smile—almost like a grin—crossed Katara's face. "Then prove it."

She forced silence to befall them, considering her options. She could refuse and possibly alienate the others from herself, but she would have Aang, Zuko, Mother and possibly Toph on her side. Although, she suspected that Toph would likely choose Katara, Sokka, and Suki at the end of the day. However, such a choice would create a tense friction in the group, which was unacceptable as they were the only group—clearly—capable of challenging Vaatu and Father. The group needed cohesion and health; it needed to have a strong foundation, which was impossible if it was fractured in different factions, united only by their shared love for Aang and desire to stop Vaatu and Father.

On the other hand, she could work to build, while not friendship, trust with Katara, Sokka, and Suki, which would strengthen the cohesion and health of the group to clash against Vaatu and Father. There would be no factions; there would be no distrust, specifically about her if she earned trust and goodwill; there would be no sense of paranoia impacting anyone's judgment; there would be no inward catastrophe that would impact the exterior, which Vaatu would target with Father; there would be no oscillating will, caught between two extremes—two sides.

Then there were Mai and Ty Lee to consider. They had joined the Order and pledged their loyalty to The Avatar, but she knew from experience how insincere their loyalty was. She trusted Katara, Sokka, and Suki more than she did Mai and Ty Lee, for Katara, Sokka, and Suki possessed enough intelligence to recognize that conspiring against her would result in Aang's ire, and they wanted Aang's friendship and regard, which prohibited them from acting on the lurking violence in their hearts. However, Mai and Ty Lee possessed nothing but their restraint to prohibit them from acting against her. While they unavoidably recognized the possibility of Aang's ire should harm come to her, they did not have the impulse for friendship with Aang to stop them from acting if—when—an opportunity presented itself.

Azula cursed, realizing that the only option she had was to 'join' the group and 'make friends' with them, accepting Katara's unfriendly branch. She had vowed to help Aang like no one else could, doing the things improbable for others to achieve, but she meant her vow—not only for Air. She would help him with whatever it took to defeat Vaatu and Father, even if it meant doing distasteful things, such as 'making friends.' However, Mai and Ty Lee's presences were most irksome, but they had been with the others since the weeks since their arrival and caused no trouble as far as she understood.

Aang had permitted their presences knowing she would despise it, but she knew Aang—he would not do such a thing unless there was good reason.

She trusted his judgment—her husband's judgment. If Aang deemed they were helpful for the effort against Vaatu and Father, she would need to accept it.

Though, it would be infuriatingly difficult—maddening!

"You will have my regard," Azula said at last, meeting Katara's inquiring gaze. "However, you will not have my friendship. If you hurt Aang or betray him in any way, you will have my wrath."

Katara's smile was bitter. "I say the same to you. You do anything to him or Air, which he loves more than anyone and anything, you will have my wrath."

Azula resented that she almost respected Katara for threatening her, and she felt no amusement about her threat, like she did for so many others. She knew Katara would not hesitate to try to attack her if she betrayed Aang.

However, she would never betray Aang; she would rather die again than betray him.

"That is not merely speculation," she observed quietly, watching Katara with sharp eyes. "It is declaration."

Katara nodded. "Yes. Do we have a deal?"

Azula glanced back where Aang had vanished into the distance. "We have a deal."

XxXxXxXxXxX

When Azula walked into the camp with Katara, Zuko didn't think; he only reacted and yanked her into a hug, embracing her tightly, reassuring himself that she was real. He trusted Aang, Toph, and Mother, all of whom had already seen Azula returned, but it never resonated until he saw her with his own eyes.

His sister was back! She was no longer dead! She was alive—alive! It was her arms that wrapped around him in return!

"For the first time in our lives, we are alike, Zuzu," Azula greeted after several moments, voice muffled slightly against his chest, but he heard her; he pulled back and stared down at her, cataloging everything he saw on her face, comparing it to his memory of her. He saw no differences. She was back! "Father hates me now, as well."

Zuko laughed, though the fury at such intelligence lurked inside him; it would never be satisfied until Father was dead. "It took you long enough," he whispered. "I guess you aren't a prodigy."

Azula's eyes narrowed just like he remembered. "I learned by watching you."

He shook his head, wondering if she would ever not surprise him. "I'm so happy you're back," he confessed. "I'd give Aang the Dragon's Throne as repayment if he asked for it."

Something flashed over Azula's face. "He would desecrate it."

Knowing Sozin sat on the Dragon's Throne longer than any man in history—and would have for many years longer if not for anguish, according to Uncle—Zuko agreed with her assessment. "But I'd still give it to him. I can always build a new Dragon's Throne."

"That breaks tradition- "

"Your life is worth it. I'm sure you agree."

Azula laughed. "No wonder Father hates us."

He didn't want to think about Father; if he did, he'd work himself into a rage. "And all my nobles. I don't know if Aang told you, but the majority of the nobility betrayed me and fled the Fire Nation."

His sister's golden eyes—how miraculous it was to see them again!—assessed him before a grimace crossed her face. "Tell me later."

"Okay," he agreed.

When Azula's eyes latched onto Appa with what looked like relief, he felt concern as he noticed a glaring absence. Mother told him that Azula was with Aang, but Aang was nowhere to be seen—instead, it was Katara who was with Azula.

What did it mean?

"Where's Aang?" he asked, keeping his voice light and careful, though he knew Azula saw through him.

When her eyes tightened slightly, his concern rose. "There was a misunderstanding," Azula dismissed, waving a hand. "He went for a walk."

Katara frowned and shook her head. "He ran off."

Zuko's good eye widened. "Ran off? Why?"

Azula pointed at Appa. "Appa is here. Aang is not far. He went to clear his head." Something shifted over her face—something he could not name. "We had a conversation."

If going to 'clear his head' meant that Aang was unclogging his ears from all the shit stuffed inside from having it lodged firmly up his ass to simultaneously love Azula but hate her blood, Zuko was content if 'clearing his head' took the rest of the day.

He nodded. "We'll need his final input before making a decision, but we can start deciding what to do now. He refused to discuss anything while he was searching for your spirit."

"Besides Samir," Katara reminded quickly. "Aang said we would go pick her up at the Eastern Air Temple."

Azula tensed, and the sudden anxiety on her face was foreign to him. The only time he remembered seeing such an expression on her face was when Father was mentioned. "She thinks we forgot about it," she whispered, words hollow but pained. "Forgot about her."

Zuko hesitated, recalling Samir's age from what Toph said. "Maybe. But we're going to get her the moment Aang gets back. That was the only thing Aang would agree to do after he returned you; it was the only decision he would commit to. Samir is his first priority now."

"Air is his first priority," Azula corrected, "of which Samir is part."

Katara blinked, and Zuko stared at his sister in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

An irritated and knowing realization flashed in Azula's eyes. "Of course, he did not tell you."

"Tell us what?" Katara demanded, voice rising, drawing the attention of the others, who slowly approached. Though, Zuko realized that Mai and Ty Lee were conspicuously absent, likely concealing themselves on Appa's other side, hidden from Azula—for now. He was relieved by their quick thinking. "How is she part of Air?"

Sokka glanced at Azula with distrust—and disgust, likely recalling what she had done with Aang—but focused on Katara. "How is who part of Air? Who's 'she'?"

"Samir," Katara said quickly, eyes narrowed at Azula.

Toph sighed. "Here we go."

Azula's eyes flashed for a moment; she looked worried and angered simultaneously. "Samir is the first Airbender to walk this world since the Attack. Air's revival has begun."

Silence.

Zuko tried to comprehend such an impossible notion before he glared at Toph. "Did you know about this?"

She scoffed. "Of course, I did! What do you think I am, blind?"

"Don't answer her!" Sokka shouted, wagging his finger. "It's a trick question!"

He ignored Sokka and focused on Toph. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Toph looked solemn and almost defeated; she seemed to sag. "Because it's Aang's news to tell."

Azula's lips thinned. "He refused to tell everyone?"

"Yep."

"She is an Airbender, beginning Air's revival, and he refused to tell everyone?"

Toph blew her bangs out of her eyes with a huff. "I'm just as confused as you."

Azula's jaw clenched, and her eyes danced with worry and ire. "I am not confused. I know why he refused. I am frustrated."

Sokka frowned. "Why? This is a big fucking deal! This is the first Airbender in the world since Air was murdered! Besides Aang, I mean. And Appa. She's really an Airbender?"

"She is," Azula confirmed. "She has the ancestral connection, descended from Air; she has gray eyes- "

Katara gasped. "Like Aang!"

Azula sighed. "Yes, which is how we knew she was from Air. Aang made her conscious of the energy inside her, which was there; she was a bender but did not know it. It is in her mixed lineage."

Sokka blinked before he threw his hands in the air in outrage. "What the fuck? Why doesn't he just do that for me with my ancestral connection to waterbending, then? That son of a bitch!"

"Samir's body was primed for it—because she naturally makes the energy inside her. Aang made her conscious of it."

"Of course, it is! Katara's a Waterbender! Why aren't I?"

"It depends on the blood you inherit," Azula explained with a simmering patience; Zuko knew that she wished to discuss something else—likely Samir rather than the intricacies of bending inheritance. "Neither of your parents were benders but carried bending blood—powerful bending blood, epitomized by Katara." He felt surprised that Azula commended Katara's bending power, and so did Katara based on the raised eyebrows. "Katara inherited that bending blood while you inherited the non-bending blood."

Sokka glared at Katara. "Cheater."

Katara rolled her eyes. "You still have the blood, too, Sokka. It's just that the odds of you having benders as kids are a lot less than my odds."

When Azula glanced at him with a knowing suggestion in her eyes, Zuko realized with dread that she knew exactly how he felt about Katara—how? And why did he have the instinct that she knew better than him?

It was just like their childhood all over again.

Damn!

"Whatever," Sokka interrupted while crossing his arms, dissatisfied. "I don't need any of you to answer for him. He can answer me himself." He glared around the area, turning to and fro, and his voice rose in volume: "Master of the Four Elements, get out here! Aang, get over here! Tell me why I'm not a Waterbender! If you could 'make me conscious' to my waterbending connection, Arnook would be so much nicer to me! I bet he would actually like me!"

For some reason, at the mention of the North, Azula's brows pinched, but she said nothing. And as expected, Aang didn't appear—though it wouldn't have surprised him if he had. "Azula said he went for a walk," he explained. "And none of this matters. We need to decide- "

Mother shook her head. "It matters but not now. Speak precisely, Zuko."

Azula smirked. "Indeed, Zuzu. Speak precisely."

He really hadn't missed that side of her. "I'm Fire Lord, and I overrule both of you, Princess and Dowager Fire Lady," he snapped. "We need to decide what we're going to do now—where we will go. Father is vulnerable now. If we can find him now, we end this now."

"Just wait until Agni and Devi reform," Toph grumbled. "It's never going to be over."

Azula shook her head. "It will be over when Vaatu is defeated- "

Sokka gasped and pointed an accusing finger. "You said his name! Traitor! You are working for him!"

Toph snorted. "She's been saying his name ever since she mastered her chakras, Snoozles. Relax. Stop trying to discredit her. I'm on her side."

Zuko didn't imagine the grateful glance—so quick in action he almost missed it—Azula shot at Toph, along with the brief twitch of her lips. "The reason I can say his name is due to my mastered chakras. I have mastered the darkness that Vaatu could manipulate and exploit within me. Thus, I am my own master; Vaatu will never be my master."

"And Twinkletoes can say his name whenever he wants because he's The Avatar and all."

Katara looked at Azula with a measured eye. "Did Aang master his chakras?"

Azula's eyes tightened. "No. He mastered only one; he has six more to go."

Sokka threw his hands in the air, irritated. "Where is he? He needs to answer our questions himself. We were willing to let things slide while he was looking for you, but that's all over with. Where is he?"

Surprisingly, Azula and Katara shared a brief glance before both looked away in discontent. "He went for a walk," Azula repeated, stubborn.

Zuko felt a seed of dread begin to bloom in his mind. "How long ago?"

"Not long."

"When did he say he'd be back?"

Azula's jaw ticked before she looked at Mother. "He did not say."

Mother's golden eyes shaded. "Did he tell you the truth?"

A weight settled in Azula's eyes. "I have always known the truth, Mother."

Suki frowned. "Why did he go for a walk?"

Katara bit her lip before shaking her head. "I wouldn't call it a 'walk.' Aang ran off."

Chaos erupted as Sokka and Toph demanded answers, stress carved into their faces; Katara and Azula talked over each other, voices rising as both tried to explain 'the truth.'

Zuko grit his teeth before raising his voice to be heard over the cacophony of voices that began to accuse each other—and Azula was taking part! It was insane! "Enough!" he roared, careful to prevent flames from slipping past his lips. "We're not children anymore!"

Silence befell them.

Sokka's fingers caressed Boomerang at his side, distrustful eyes directed at Azula. "Aang exhausted himself for a month to do the impossible, and you make him run off? That's fucking rich."

Azula's golden eyes turned to slits. "I miscalculated," she admitted, surprising not only Zuko but all of them. "However, this is more complex than your feeble mind can comprehend- "

"And yours if you 'miscalculated'!"

Zuko stared at Air's colors draped around Azula's upper body, shuddering with the force of her calming breaths. "Perhaps. Yet, I try. I cannot explain Aang's actions, only my own. I should have anticipated his reaction, yes, but he will not be gone long."

By the look on Azula's face, it sounded like she tried to convince herself.

Zuko's worry compounded instantly as he pinched his nose. "Toph, go find Aang."

Toph offered no complaint; there was something solemn on her face. "Where'd he go, Lightning Pyscho?"

"He jumped across the lake and took off," Azula notified, voice flat, golden eyes sharp, daring for accusation to befall her.

Katara nodded. "He disappeared into the forest on the other side; it looked like he wasn't going to stop running anytime soon."

Sokka scoffed, disgusted and fearful. "Great! This isn't the time for him to be one of those fucking Airbenders- "

Azula glared with ire at Sokka. "Speak wisely rather than rashly. Cease your mockery of Air."

"I think you need to take your own advice," Sokka sneered. "It sounds like you spoke rashly to Aang rather than wisely. This is your fault- "

"I'm leaving now," Toph announced, spacing her words as the ground rumbled beneath them. "If shit explodes here, I won't help clean up the mess. Don't do anything stupid while I'm looking for Twinkletoes."

Zuko nodded. "I'll keep anything from happening."

"You're not exactly a peacekeeper, Sparky."

"I kept the peace after the Great War for eight years while everyone else wanted more war."

Toph's brows rose. "Okay, then. Just pretend everyone's Kuei while I'm gone."

Zuko waved her away. "Just find him. Bring him back when you do."

"I can't just 'bring' The Avatar back if he doesn't want to be 'brought.'"

"Tell him whatever it takes to bring him back."

Toph sighed. "I'll probably say Appa's hurt or something."

He watched as Toph took off before turning back to the others. "We're not blaming each other," he announced, glaring at everyone. "Aang chose to 'take a walk,' and he's going to come back. It was his decision. I'm sure the lack of sleep got to him is all it is." Based on Azula's tight jaw, Aang's lack of sleep was clearly not why he decided to 'take a walk.' "This isn't a big deal. Now we need to decide what we're going to do and tell Aang what we think when he gets back."

Sokka frowned. "Who died and made you boss? Aang's not dead, you know; he 'took a walk.'"

"I'm Fire Lord."

"And I'm just so 'lowly' chief in comparison, right?"

Zuko shrugged. "Well, you're a prince, not a chief."

"You're a bastard."

"My life might have been easier if I was," he dismissed. "We know we're going to the Eastern Air Temple to pick up Samir, the first Airbender since the Attack not named Aang. We don't know how that works, and we won't ask now; we'll ask Aang when he gets back. After that, we have options. Clearly, we can't stay here. Father knows this place and could return. We could return to the Fire Nation- "

"We need to strike now," Sokka interrupted. "We find your dad and cut his head off before he gets his strength back. It's perfect. We need to go hunting."

Personally, Zuko agreed with that option, but Azula looked hollow. "That was Aang's strategy that ended in my death and almost Toph's death. We must be careful. This is delicate."

Suki frowned. "Ozai is alone with only Dark from what we know. He has no army because you, Toph, and Aang took care of that. This is the opportune moment to attack him."

Mother looked amused and pained simultaneously. "My husband is most resourceful. Do not underestimate him."

Azula nodded. "And do not underestimate Vaatu. He is eons old—ancient beyond conception. He knows more tricks than anyone in existence but the Tree."

"Tree?" Katara asked.

"Tree of Time," Azula clarified. "It created All."

Zuko shook his head, knowing if he ruminated on the Tree of Time he would be ashamed of his unintelligence. Instead, he focused on something his intellect could grasp—his treacherous nobles. "Assume going forward that my nobles who betrayed me, a large number, are with my father; he has a new army—a more powerful one, certainly. If we attack, we would face them—or whatever other army my father has built. It's been a month since he lost his army. He's been busy in that time."

"I am not sure we should stay on the continent," Azula said, voice quiet but intense. "It is the most strategically placed, yes, but the continent hates The Avatar—and those allied with him, such as us. We want to focus on Father and Vaatu, not vengeful Children of Earth."

Zuko watched her, surprised. "You want to go back to the Fire Nation?"

"No," she responded. "We need to stay on the continent—that is clear to me. However, the only place I can think of that would accept us is the Colonies."

"But the Colonies are gone," Zuko finished in understanding. "I cleared them out when Kuei declared war."

Suki's eyes were intrigued. "Did any of your subjects stay, Zuko? If so, we could group with them."

"None that I know of, least of all off the top of my head. Despite what you think, I don't know each of my subjects by name."

Sokka snorted. "That's not what we think."

"It's not what some of us think," Katara corrected quickly with a glare at Sokka.

Zuko didn't know what to make of it.

Mother sighed. "Ozai would likely know of the Colonies' depletion. He might make base there, though I can never say for certain."

Azula shook her head. "We cannot try to anticipate his moves, not now. We must focus on our dealings and what we will do."

Sokka grinned. "I say we stay here for now."

Zuko stared at him, aghast. "What? That's insane- "

"It's insane enough to work," Sokka clarified, grin growing. "I thought you'd agree—it's the same strategy we used at the end of the Great War. We hid out in your dad's old house, and now we hide out in your dad's old camp. He'll never think of it."

He considered it for several moments before looking at the others. "It could work; it has worked before. We could use it to our advantage." He looked around at the camp in admiration. "This is a nice camp."

Suki nodded. "Well supplied, especially. We could stay here for months with all the provisions I counted."

"The firewhiskey's pretty low, but other than that, I agree."

Sokka snorted. "I bet it was at a high number before you got here."

Mother shook her head, disappointed but resigned. "Firewhiskey or not, I believe this strategy is feasible."

Katara smiled slightly. "I think so. It's well located and protected. I can create several streams with Toph's help to make closer water sources. We can do whatever we need to do here—even train if we think we need to."

Azula's eyes closed briefly. "You will all need to train," she notified, voice distant. "You will never face a foe the caliber of Father and Vaatu, and they will align themselves with foes worthy of their regard. Their army will be powerful and seasoned; they will be the best in the world."

"Then we'll train," Zuko decided. "Let's focus on making this camp our permanent stop for at least another month. When Aang gets back, we'll tell him. I think he'll go with Azula—possibly Toph—on Appa to the Eastern Air Temple to get Samir and come back. He might want us to go with him, or he might want us to stay here."

Azula nodded slightly. "Likely, yes. It will be a swifter trip with only myself and Aang. Appa's burden will be much less."

"Let's get started," he suggested. "We'll wait for Toph to come back with Aang."

The group dispersed, though Katara glanced back at him with a questioning look. He waved her off so he could speak with Azula alone. Thankfully, Katara nodded and smiled slightly before going with Sokka and Suki, mentioning something about how precise the new streams needed to be directed.

Zuko focused on Azula, observing her tight posture. "How are you?" he asked gently, watching her, grateful that they were alone.

Mother had stepped behind Appa, likely to speak briefly with Mai and Ty Lee. He pulled Azula into the other side of the woods when she refused to respond at first.

Azula shook her head once they were a suitable distance away from the camp. "I am relieved and joyful to be back; I am grateful and in awe. However, I did not think it would go this way."

"What do you mean?"

"He looked at me remorselessly before he ran off," she murmured, shaken. "Aang had never looked at me like that before; he looked at me like he hated me."

Zuko stared at her in painful confusion. "What did you talk about?" he demanded, finally voicing the thought that had been gnawing at him. How had Aang gone from so overwhelmed with joy that Azula was back that he slept with her—he didn't want to think about that!—to looking at Azula without remorse before running off? The only thing that made sense to him is that Azula's blood, which held Sozin's memory and presence, horrified him to such a degree that he ran off. However, it seemed much deeper than that based on how Azula was acting. "What did you do to set him off to such an extent that he looked at you 'remorselessly' after he exhausted himself more than I've ever seen for a month to bring you back from your death?"

Azula laughed, though there was no amusement. "It is quite the unbelievable turn of fortune."

"You're deflecting, trying to distract me," Zuko pointed out, feeling his dread grow. If Azula was trying to avoid telling him what happened, it must be bad—bad! "Azula, you need to tell me what happened. You need to tell me the truth."

Her eyes shut briefly; there was an enlightened but pained expression her face. "The truth is that Air was reinvented in death. They were martyrized with their demise. The truth is that Air never resolved their contradictions, and there were many contradictions; there were many failings."

Zuko stared at her, something shrill ricocheting inside him. "And you told Aang that? That's what you told him? That's why he ran off?"

It made too much horrifying sense.

"I was happy," she hissed, aggravated. "I felt such joy at knowing the truth I always wanted, which I learned in my death; it was the truth I wanted to share with Aang. He misses Air so profoundly, more than any of you know, and I wanted to give him authentic connection and understanding of his race."

"By ruining his memory of them?" Zuko demanded, aghast and terrified. "That was your strategy? What were you thinking?"

Azula flinched. "I was feeling, not thinking; I took a chance and lost."

"It makes sense now, at least," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, hoping to dislodge potential trapped thoughts; he needed inspiration for solution. "Is it true?"

"You know it is."

He did know it was true; it made much more sense than anything Aang had ever told him about Air. "I wish it wasn't for Aang's sake," Zuko said at last. "He deserves the perfection he described."

"The only way he can have peace and accept their murder is by realizing their severe, vast imperfections," Azula said, voice hollow but tight. "He is not ready. I am unsure when he will be. But I know he will—he will have peace."

Zuko felt weary. "Who told you all of that about Air? How did you learn it? When you died?"

Azula shook her head. "Yes. But I will never tell anyone before I tell Aang. He deserves the truth more than you—more than anyone. He must hear it first. He deserves the joy that I hold, but I am unworthy of it; it feels cruel that I have the truth of Air while he does not."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"Because of Sozin."

A sputtering laugh escaped her. "Yes. It is all about Sozin. Before he ran off, he said I was Sozin—that I was exactly like him; he said my aim is to sabotage Air as Sozin's aim was."

Zuko wished he felt surprised; he only felt heavy and worn. "Quite the accusation- "

"It is not true," she stressed, sounding almost desperate; she needed someone's belief in her authenticity, which Aang had denied in his grief.

"I know," he assured. "You wanted to share your joy with him."

Azula looked at him with a tight smile. "Because he has not had joy since he awakened in this damned time, as he has said many times. I wanted to give him that, for he has given me so much. I knew it would be difficult, extensively difficult, but thought that if I shared that joy with him, he could find it bearable and accept it in time." She shook her head with a pained wonder. "But the way he looked at me—it was as if he hated that he knew me; hated that he loved me."

"He loves you but hates your blood—because of Sozin."

"I have always known that," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "The first time he mentioned Sozin to me on Ember Island, I knew—I felt the hostility and animosity inside him, and I felt it directed at me on some level. It has always been about Sozin, and it always will be. I thought he had moved past it and was willing to."

Zuko cringed, knowing why she thought such a thing. "Because you two had relations."

Azula nodded, looking at one of the cracked trees near them; it had been cracked during the massive clash against Father, Vaatu, Agni, and Devi. "I must apologize to him when he returns. It is not my right to tell him anything about Air—I see that now; I understand it. It is monstrous in many ways."

"He needs to know the truth of Air," Zuko pointed out quietly. "I don't think he'd believe it from anyone but you. He does trust you; he loves you."

For some strange reason, Azula smiled slightly. "Air is different; it always will be. It is foremost for him, and his understanding is above all—as it should be. No one should understand Air better than him. That is why it is monstrous that I, descended from Sozin, understand Air better than him right now."

Zuko watched her for several moments. "But you're the only one who cares to understand it. I find Air interesting, but you find it fascinating, and you hold a passion for it. Sokka thinks Air is stupid—he's said it enough behind Aang's back—and Katara can't wrap her mind around it at all from what she's told me. But you do. Out of anyone in the world, you understand Air; you love Air. And you love Aang, too. I don't think it's monstrous at all."

"You do not understand- "

"I do understand. It's about Sozin, and he can't look past it." Zuko shrugged. "If I was him, I couldn't, either—I never would. But he's Aang. He will look past it—I know he will. But it will take time—likely longer than either of you want."

Azula shook her head. "If I convince him- "

"It's not up to you to convince Aang," Zuko interrupted. "It's up to him now. I think you've done your part. Now he has to do his. Don't worry—he'll get his head out of his ass."

"This is about Air," she whispered. "The ass you speak of is his heart. He will never get his head out of that."

Zuko didn't disagree with her.

"When I met him on Ember Island, he intrigued me unlike anyone in my life," Azula recalled, voice quiet, but her eyes were distant—staring into the memories he knew she had. "The Avatar. He had me then, I suppose—I was fascinated instantly once I realized he would not kill or attack me; I was fascinated when I realized his complexity, which was swiftly; I was fascinated when I realized I enjoyed his company in a way that had never happened before; I was fascinated when I realized I liked him, which was the first day we met on Ember Island, each as two new people, so different from who we were once; I was fascinated once I saw Aang. I could have encouraged him to stop his vacation and deal with King Kuei as I should likely have done to try to prevent any of this, and I know he would have listened to me, but I was selfish. I wanted a connection—a home—with someone who intrigued me like he did; I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible with only the two of us, even though it made little sense; I wanted to see if he could help me discover something I never knew I searched for, and he did—he did, Zuko." She inhaled with slow precision as she shook her head. "But now it is up to me to help him discover something he never knew, and I find that I am inadequate. I do not think I can help him as he helped me. I do not know how he helped me besides by being himself. Yet, I know that by being myself, I make him more conflicted. His problems feel much deeper than mine."

He was quiet for a long time, discerning what should be said; he elected for honesty. "I think your problems were individualistic- "

"There is no problem like his in the history of the world."

"That's not what I mean," he explained. "Your problems were individualistic in which all you had to think about and come to terms with was yourself, right?"

Azula nodded. "Yes."

"But Aang's is a collective problem—as it surrounds Air as a whole. It is individualistic for him, but the roots are different from yours. The roots of your problems never had the collective insistence, but the roots of his problems have a lot of collective insistence. His problems are deeper than yours—deeper and bigger simultaneously."

Silence.

He watched as a sapphire flame, strong and vibrant, hovered in Azula's palm, and she stared down at it. "Do you think he wants the Truth?"

"No," Zuko responded instinctively. "Not if it's about Air. I think he wants the Truth for everything else but Air."

Azula hummed. "Truth can destroy as easily as enlighten. It will destroy him. But such destruction facilitates the inevitability of rebirth. He will come again into maturity and vigor; the void of his previous understanding will give way to newfound understanding, opening him to new things. When he returns, I will apologize, but my aim will not change. My aim is the same as Aang's aim—I want to save Air; I want to return it to the world."

"Because you love Air."

"It is delightful," Azula whispered. "It is marvelous. Air had understanding—so much understanding. I do not think the other races had or have understanding like they did. But Air became excessive in their understanding, deteriorating into mental rigidity and complacency."

Zuko snorted but felt little amusement. "They had no balance."

"Yes. It is the truth he must accept."

"I don't know if he can."

Azula shook her head. "He will. It will take longer than he likes—than any of us like."

"You're awfully sure," Zuko observed, watching her, wondering what she would tell him.

Her death had changed her clearly—not physically, mentally, or in her personality. But her understanding and perception had changed. He didn't know if it was a good or bad thing yet.

"I met someone who fascinates me like Aang does," she replied, looking awed and morose simultaneously. "He is everything I have been told. And I know this man not only fascinates me but Aang himself. And fascination, I have found, culminates in love. I wish I had more time with him."

Zuko stared at her, amazed. "Who did you meet?"

A small smile, one that spoke of deep fondness and affectionate warmth, spread on her face. "A man who, in short order and conversation, felt more like a father to me than Father. There was no dread or expectation with him; there was only intelligence and warmth. I never knew the genuine combination was possible."

Zuko felt his lips twitch. "Sounds like Uncle."

Azula nodded. "Perhaps. Though I assure you Uncle's wisdom is lacking next to his. Everyone's is."

He watched her and analyzed the way she spoke about 'the man,' who intrigued him deeply. Who could she have met while dead that fascinated her to such a degree that she loved him? And what man could have fascinated her that fascinated Aang? The only man he could conceive was King Bumi, but King Bumi was alive.

Or had King Bumi been killed?

"Was it King Bumi?" he asked, desperate. If King Bumi had been killed, things were even more dire!

Azula laughed. "No. Though I would certainly enjoy sharing a conversation with Fire's scourge. Though I know the topic would be most different."

He shook his head in amusement. "And you would rather have conversations like you had with 'the man' you met."

"Yes."

"You love him."

"He gave me something that no one else has—the Truth." Something pained flashed in her eyes. "I had hoped to relay it to Aang."

Zuko's good eye widened as he connected the allusion. "He's the one who told you the truth about Air?"

Azula sighed. "I wish you were as unintelligent as when we were children. You never understood anything then."

"The only thing I ever understood then was that you were a bitch a lot."

"The pressure of performing for Father," she dismissed with a wave of her hand, and he felt profound relief that the gesture and look on her face mimicked his memories. "Yes, he told me about Air."

"And you trust him?" he asked, doubtful. "He could have- "

Azula shook her head with a brief laugh. "If he were anyone else, I doubt I would have trusted him. But he is himself, and he is worthy of all the regard in the world. Yes, I trust him; I trust him more than anyone to ever die."

Zuko's jaw clenched at the incessant praise of 'the man,' which only provoked his curiosity even more, but she wouldn't tell him! "Just tell me who he is- "

"Not before I tell Aang, and I will only tell you after if Aang gives his blessing. This is bigger than you and I."

He sighed but accepted her reasoning. "Fine. But there can't be another something—or someone—bigger than you and I popping up in nine months."

Azula glanced at him, brows rising. "You must clarify- "

"I know you and Aang had sex. Toph told me."

"I hear she told everyone," Azula said dryly.

"The point is—don't risk a pregnancy. We don't want bastards running around."

For some reason, Azula smirked. "There will never be any bastards running around—unless you impregnated one of your whores." She exaggeratedly looked around with an innocent smile that belied the mischievous shine in her eyes. "Did you bring one of them here with you?"

Zuko glared at her. "I'm serious. I have the instinct that this war is going to be long and intense. It's going to get a lot worse before it gets better. If we have to worry about a baby, nonetheless the baby of The Avatar and Fire Princess, which means the Prince or Princess of Air- "

"Air does not honor royal titles."

"-on top of all of this, something will go wrong—on top of everything that's already going to go wrong. For all we know, you could be pregnant right now! That's amazing but horrifying! We don't need the added stress!"

She hummed and trailed a finger across the Air Nomad garbs wrapped around her flat stomach. "It is very possible. Though I do not believe I am as it is not the opportune time with my cycle—unless my death changed things."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just don't have sex again while we're dealing with all this mayhem, alright?"

Azula's eyes lit up with sly mischief. "Zuzu, do you know how impossible that possibility is? Aang is irresistible."

Zuko groaned. "No, don't say that- "

"How else do you think it happened in the first place?" she teased sweetly.

He flinched. "Please stop."

Azula laughed. "I jest—though it is true. Worry not, Brother. We will not revive Air the fun way for some time. But in return, you must promise me the same."

Zuko scoffed. "I didn't actually bring one of the concubines here with me."

"I speak not of your whores; I speak of Katara."

He stared at her, recognized the look in her golden eyes, and looked away. "That will never happen."

"I see how you look at her. It is obvious."

"What's obvious is that there's going to be no bastards," Zuko stressed in deflection, connecting their gazes. "No bastards?"

Azula nodded with a slight smirk. "No bastards," she agreed. "I suppose that means we must dispose of Sokka."

Zuko laughed. "You're a bad influence on me."

Her smirk grew. "You would not be whole without me."

His amusement faded swiftly as he recalled how broken he felt when she died—how part of himself died when he heard that she died. "No, I wouldn't," he echoed softly. "Just don't dive in front of any more lightning blasts, okay?"

Azula's face was solemn and proud. "I think we both have too much experience with it."

Zuko didn't disagree.

XxXxXxXxXxX

That's all for this incredibly long one, folks, but it was fun to write, though. What do you think? Please, leave a review and tell me; it would be much appreciated!

**Chin V is introduced as the leader of the Children of Chin, who are all from the various bloodlines that began with Chin the Conqueror. In my mind, I've always seen Chin the Conqueror as Genghis Khan-like; he had a lot of children and was a fearsome warlord, so I used the comparison. In case you don't remember, Chin the Conqueror was the dude who tried to conquer the entire Earth Kingdom and who Kyoshi killed in response, about which she appeared proud and unapologetic, creating Kyoshi Island in the process. In every way, Chin is Kyoshi's great failing, not the Dai Li; it's obvious. Kyoshi let Chin get away with his conquest for years clearly until he had the entire continent under his thumb, but a conquest such as his would be a fierce, violent undertaking that ends countless lives. It's a decapitation of culture and memory, literally splintering Earth from their many roots in several ways because Chin tried to unify Earth under himself, which means eradicating everything, even of Earth, that belies his pursuit. Chin would have many opponents against him—like the Kings of Ba Sing Se, Omashu, Chyung, and Zaofu, which includes the likely majority of each city. That's A LOT of people who would be killed for rebelling against him and mowed down by his conquest.

Kyoshi didn't stop any of it—she failed. So many born of her race were cut down by Chin's conquest because she failed—because she didn't interfere and put a stop to it. She said the only reason she created Kyoshi Island was to "save [her] people from invaders," which Chin classified as. But why not stop him earlier? Why wait until the literal last moment? She claimed she would not "sit passively while he took [her] home," but she clearly sat passively while he took the rest of the continent. What the actual fuck? Where's the consistency? She's The Avatar and should have kept balance, but she didn't—not in the slightest. Did Kyoshi not give a rat's ass about anyone else other than her "people" on Kyoshi Island? If so, she ironically resembled Kuruk perfectly with her apathy. However, I don't think so—I think it goes much deeper than her sheer incompetence or apathy toward anyone else, which will be explored later. But the undeniable fact remains—Kyoshi failed severely and fundamentally. Her great failing was never the Dai Li, whose purpose was corrupted after her reign; her great failing, occurring in her reign when she was fully realized, was dealing with Chin. She failed, and countless people clearly paid the price for it. There's a reason why Kyoshi called Chin "a horrible tyrant." But who is more horrible? The horrible tyrant or Kyoshi, who sat passively while she had the power to stop the horrible tyrant but did nothing while he swept across the continent? It's an interesting question, isn't it?

To dissect and have fun with Kyoshi's extensive failing, because it's clearly unbelievably extensive, I've changed the connection between her and Chin, which will be explored in later chapters. Otherwise, her failing makes no sense with Kyoshi's character. It makes her a completely overrated Avatar, possibly beyond any Avatar known, if she simply looked to the side and didn't stop Chin. However, while I've always thought that Kyoshi was very overrated, and I stand by it, that's not the case. While Kyoshi failed, she was competent—she was complex and did the best she could. But it needs to be explored how she did the best she could in that moment. The beginning of said complexity is revealed in that Chin V and his father and grandfather stretching back to Chin the Conqueror's firstborn son (Chin II) are all descended from Kyoshi, too. Kyoshi was in a relationship with Chin the Conqueror and bore his firstborn, Chin II. Really, it makes a lot of sense. Kyoshi has been shown many times using extremist rhetoric, and Chin the Conqueror was quite the extremist. It makes sense that they would connect, especially when she's younger and less mature. Furthermore, Kyoshi's claim to fame is her being someone—an Avatar—who doesn't fuck around, and Chin, who conquered the entire Earth Kingdom except for the future Kyoshi Island, would be someone who doesn't fuck around, likely to an even greater degree than Kyoshi. After all, why did Kyoshi let Chin's conquest get so bad that he conquered the ENTIRE continent before she stepped in and ended it, as I pointed out above? Maybe because he was someone who she knew was above her in the not-fucking-around personality trait. Regardless, it's a very intriguing question, and I have an answer for it, but it will be revealed later on.

**Aang regrets marrying Azula in Air's eyes by sleeping with her after he returned her spirit. Was there any other reasonable outcome? He wasn't ready because his regret is a symptom of his disease of grief. He knows that he's at fault, and he understands it, but he still can't let go and be at peace with it. He needs more—he needs the truth. But the question is—can he handle the truth? Is he ready for it?

**Vaatu frees Hama from her prison, and she allies with Vaatu, Ozai, Chin V, and any and all who have allied with them! Boy, the Gaang is going to have their hands full against the enemy. I changed Hama's origin slightly because it makes the whole Family emphasis in Water so much more significant if Katara and Hama are actually related to each by blood rather than not. It adds credence and significance to why Hama would hate Katara to such a degree because, whether Katara knew it or not, she turned her back on her family and condemned her own grandaunt to imprisonment—again. It makes too much sense for them to be family. Hama initially hid the fact that she was from the South from the Gaang and the fact she was the Bloodbender. What else was she hiding? What better way to celebrate with Katara the fact that she became a Bloodbender (which Hama thinks is an amazing, beautiful, necessary thing) than to reveal afterwards that they shared an even deeper connection because of the blood in their veins, for she is the sister of Katara's beloved Gran-gran, emphasizing Water's foundation of Family? It would be the cherry on top to a perfect night and perfect setting in which Katara learned something about her culture and her waterbending. It would bond Katara and Hama together forever, which Hama wanted more than anything—and Katara certainly wouldn't have minded before she learned the truth about bloodbending.

Hama mentioned her relationship with Kanna, but it makes sense if it goes deeper as a way to test Katara and Sokka, her grandniece and grandnephew, to see what they are capable of and made of, because the entire time Hama knew Katara and Sokka, specifically Katara, she was evaluating and judging. This is highlighted by the fact that Hama was watching the Gaang, specifically Katara and Sokka, in the forest at the beginning of the episode; it reveals her nature as an observer, calculating and assessing, taking her time to evaluate before acting. No one knows how long she was there, watching them. Not even Toph sensed her, which is incredibly significant. Perhaps Hama used her waterbending to slow down her heartbeat or something so it couldn't be sensed—not sure. Regardless, Hama watches before she acts. She was testing Katara the entire time, seeing if she was worthy of the inheritance Hama could offer and bestow. Of course, Katara passed with flying colors, and she proved throughout the show that she was capable of being like Hama (Southern Raiders is evident enough, but there is other evidence, specifically like how she treated Zuko, which is understandable from Katara's perspective, but Hama's actions are also understandable from Hama's perspective). Katara isn't only similar to Hama because they are both Waterbenders (Bloodbenders) from the South; they are similar because they are grandaunt and grandniece. It makes more sense to me because lineage is important, and Katara (and Sokka) have a lot to uncover about their lineage.

I added the part of Vaatu healing Hama by flooding her chi with dark energy because I think that it makes sense. Because of her imprisonment, her torment by the Fire Nation, and her hiding in a Fire Nation village for decades, thus not being able to bend in front of others, Hama was left very weak and old. In my opinion, it was shown in the Imprisoned episode of the show that the Earthbenders had lost their will to bend their element in the Fire Nation's boat prison. They were weak and looked old. This means that if a bender ignores the calling to their element, health concerns arise. Hama wasn't able to bend in sight of people for decades. As a result, her body suffered tremendously. Vaatu flooded her chi with dark energy which, with the help of her own Water chi on the night of a Full Moon, healed her body, restoring her to what she would look like currently if her body had been taken care of.

In Canon, Guru Pathik is 150 years old and in great shape and, more importantly, health. He is a non-bender; he has no element under his control so the only explanation for his lifespan would be that of his spiritual connection and thus, more importantly, his chi. Benders live far longer because of their chi. Non-benders are the same as regular humans, so they have a lifespan that is about 75 years, give or take a few. A regular bender's chi is stronger than a non-bender's and as a result, the lifespan is doubled or so compared to a non-bender's. This also means that there are health benefits for those with good chi flow and who are also powerful benders. Women, specifically, are different if they are benders and have a good chi flow. Women, from what I've gathered by reading through some stuff (although I may be wrong and feel free to correct me), can continue to have children as long as their hormones are still active; then menopause doesn't happen. Here's the link where I found that information: www . medicalnewstoday articles / 320228 . p h p (Remove all of the spaces.) So, this means that benders who have mastered their chakras, and thus their chi flow, will live longer than other benders, and also, of course, have their hormones in a permanent state of awakening. In case you don't understand: their bodies would have all of their chi flowing through them at all times, so as long as they don't pollute their chakras and block their flow, they won't have to worry about their hormones shutting down for a really long time.

So, a bender could have children a lot later in life than a non-bender. I think that it's already Canon because of how Zuko and Azula's lineage through Ursa is really, REALLY strange. For regular humans/non-benders, it would be impossible for Avatar Roku to be Ursa's maternal grandfather. Remember, Roku died 112 years before the beginning of the show when he was only 70 years old; his wife, Ta Min was around the same age as he was. Their daughter, Rina must have been, at the very least, in her early 30's, if not older—Ta Min was never shown to be a bender, so she wouldn't be able to birth children at a later age—at the time of her father's death, but Ursa was born about 30 years before the beginning of the show, so over 70 years later, give or take a few. So that means, for this to work, Ursa's mother, Rina must have been around 100 years old, give or take a few years, at the day of Ursa's birth—and Rina must be a bender, too. It doesn't add up unless the rules of aging and physiology are different between benders and non-benders. (Clearly, the issue stems from the creators not doing all of the math in advance, and not intending for Zuko to be descended from Avatar Roku—and/or for Roku to be Sozin's best friend/contemporary—until later on after much had already been decided.) Also, this could be how Fire Lady Ilah was able to give birth to Ozai after 20 years since Iroh's birth.

There are many examples of the different lifespans. The timeline in Avatar, for me, is based on the original timeline before the creators changed stuff and retconned it. In the Siege of the North Part 2 episode, Koh reveals that Avatar Kuruk tried to murder him over 900 years ago by the time the series had started! This would mean that Kuruk lived for a very long time. Avatar Kyoshi was then born over 500 years later, 300 years before Aang was born. That means that Kuruk was well over 500 years old when he died - that is at least half a millennium! (I know that it says that Kuruk lived to be only 33 years old on the Avatar Wikia, but I think that that is utterly ridiculous and the only reason why that happened was that the creators changed the timeline after it had already been EXPLICITLY stated in an episode that Kuruk was alive eight or nine centuries before the end of the Great War.) Kyoshi lives for 230 years and then, Avatar Roku and Sozin were born on the same day in 82 BG (Before Genocide). Roku dies 12 years before the Air Nomads Genocide, so at 12 BG—meaning that he was 70 years old and VERY young for an Avatar—and then Aang is born.

Fire Lord Azulon is born the year of the Air Nomad Genocide while Aang is in the Iceberg and Fire Lord Sozin then kills off the Air Nomads at 0 BG/AG. Sozin searches for the remainder of his long life hunting for The Avatar and apparently, felt regret at what he had done to Roku in his final years. "As I feel my own life dimming, I can't help but think of a time when everything was so much brighter." Eventually, Sozin dies, and Azulon takes the Dragon's Throne. He died at 93-years-old because Ursa killed him. Otherwise, he would have lived a long life like his father. In the Zuko Alone episode, near the end of it, it is revealed that Fire Lord Azulon only reigned as Fire Lord for 23 years. That means that Sozin lived to be 153 years old! I don't think it's that far-fetched at all considering that Pathik was 150 years old when he was revealed – and is still alive in this story at 159 years old now. So powerful benders, indeed, or those with exquisite chi flows like Pathik do live for a lot longer than non-benders!

**Azula awakens and is overwhelmed by being back, by having that second chance, but she is overwhelmed by her experience in limbo in equal measure. She feels a desperate, overpowering need to tell Aang about Gyatso and what he told her about Air—the truth of Air and how Air fell, damning themselves in the process. She also knows she's married to Aang in Air's eyes, which are the only eyes that matter to Aang, which she knows, and she feels peace about it.

**Aang talks to Azula for the first time, and he's honest with her about how he loves her, but when she tries to tell him the truth about Air, he snaps and falls into his distrust, thinking that he had always been right about her—that she was out to get Air and ruin it like Sozin did. It's one thing on top of another. He regrets marrying Azula, but if it was only that, he could deal with it. However, when Azula immediately tries to tell him the truth of Air, he can't take it—because, to him, it's confirmation that Azula is only out to sabotage Air. He has no idea what she experienced in her limbo and can't imagine it, and he can't deal with everything piling on him—he snaps and runs off.

**Azula curses her strategy for telling Aang the truth about Air and talks to Katara. She and Katara discuss things, such as their love for Aang and the nature of owing debts, and come to a tentative truce based on the logic that the group needs to be healthy and strong, which is only possible if they trust each other and don't betray or sacrifice each other. The struggle lies in them all coexisting on Aang's side, which forms the group—the Gaang. Azula doesn't want to join, but she recognizes that she has to—it's the only option for dealing with Vaatu and the rising war.

**Zuko sees Azula alive again and has to deal with the fallout of Aang running off—why, no one knows because Azula isn't telling anyone. However, Zuko wears Azula down, and she tells him what happened—from her perspective, not Aang's.

I think that's everything. I hope that you all enjoyed the chapter. I'd love to hear what you all thought about it, so please leave a review and tell me!

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