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Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender

XxXxXxXxXxX

He didn't know how long he ran—all he knew was that he showed no restraint in using his airbending, leaving a trail of devastation behind him from his powerful speed, passing town after town as he ran, not stopping.

The current time of the world didn't matter—it was an evil time that deserved to be marred! It was nothing to what happened to his race! The world deserved all the desecration to match what happened to the temples when Sozin and his armies marched, attacked, raped, and slaughtered!

No one had suffered like Air suffered—like his race suffered!

What did a few trees matter in comparison?

What did Azula matter next to his race? She didn't—never! Logically, it was the most obvious conclusion to ever make, and he knew its veracity, but he married her anyway! Why did he do it? Why did he fall prey to the temptations of his heart? Why did he surrender to the instinct of his penis and the yearning of his loins? Why did he desecrate Air like Sozin did by literally tying Air's future, innate in its new lineage, to Sozin's future—his literal bloodline—in Azula?

He was a worse monster than Sozin.

It was The Avatar—The Avatar! It was always The Avatar's fault! Why did The Avatar exist? Why was Wan so weak to inflict on the Realms The Avatar? Why did Evil begin anew with The Avatar's birth in each of his lifetimes?

Aang didn't know the answers; he only knew that he needed to do something—take control and fix things! He had to prevent Azula from miring Air! He knew his pattern; he knew he was too weak to cut her out of his life, which would result, inevitably, in her subtle sabotage against Air. She surely had realized her previous error in her approach after their marriage; she would apologize and prostrate herself before him, claiming she lost her sense or that the things she saw in the Immortal Realm had distorted her perception, which influenced her understanding.

And like the damned fool above all fools he was, he would forgive her.

But she had revealed herself and her intentions—she was out to get Air like Sozin was! She would change her approach like the strategist she was; she would sabotage with discretion, piece by piece, dedicating herself for years—possibly decades—to blacken Air's foundations until it toppled all over again!

It was unacceptable, and he refused to let it happen—never again!

But he needed answers; he needed to know if his suspicion was correct. It was possible that Azula simply made a mistake—he knew better than anyone the presence of a mistake—and never would make it again. After all, she had looked distressed when he left, on the verge of terrified, but he didn't know for sure.

It may have been a performance; it may have been real.

But how could she believe such evil dragonshit about Air? How dare she try to tell him that it was the truth! How dare she poison Gyatso's memory by saying Gyatso would agree with her madness! The thought that believed such madness about Gyatso provoked his own lurking madness!

Madness!

He needed more; he needed more than himself. He needed to be immortal rather than mortal, like Zuko suggested.

His resolve strengthened, and with the world a blur around him, he leaped onto the side of a mountain and tunneled deep underground, delving and delving until he reached a reasonable distance. He created space for his body, making sure there was an adequate air current and flow—because Air is all that mattered! He sat down in the lotus position, inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes.

When his eyes opened, he was in the Immortal Realm.

Aang felt fierce anticipation. He was taking control; he was being immortal!

The Immortal Realm's energy flowed in greeting as he began his journey, senses stretched as he knew where he wanted to go and who he wanted—needed—to speak with-

"Aang."

He paused at the familiar voice. "What do you want?"

"You once wanted me more than anyone."

"That was never true."

"More than anyone living."

Aang turned to face Roku, whose face peered up at him from a river parallel to the path. "Times have changed."

Roku's face was weathered with grieving knowledge. "Times have changed, but you have not."

His fists clenched. "Don't act like that's a good thing. You know it's not. Change is an abomination! Change is what culminated in my race's murder! The Realms are imbalanced because of Change!"

"You have an opportunity with Azula- "

Aang scoffed. "She's your granddaughter. I don't expect you to- "

"She's your wife."

The flinch that ripped through him was painful—he felt it in his spirit! "I damned Air again by marrying her."

"Consider the many positives of your marriage- "

"No! The only positive is what my penis thinks! There's nothing else, Roku! This is about Air, not me. Don't you understand?"

"It has become about you. You walk the same path of mistakes I did; you do not see things as they are."

Aang shook his head. "No. I understand exactly how things are—I understand better than anyone. And I hate how things are—it's evil. I'm going to get answers, and I'm going to find a solution I can live with." He gripped the sides of his head, heartbroken as memories terrible to behold, least of all live with, ravished his spirit. "I can't live with what I've done! I can't!"

"You must think about your course, Aang," Roku warned.

He glared down at Roku. "Didn't you tell me once I needed to be more decisive? I'm taking your advice!"

"You know this is not what I meant- "

"What I know is that you let all of this happen! I'm fixing your mistakes! Isn't that what you also begged me to do? You told me to fix what you wrought! You should be thanking me, you damned fool!"

Roku looked sad. "I thank you every day, Aang. But I don't thank you for this. I know where you are going."

"Koh will tell me what I need to know," he defended. "There's no one I've ever encountered besides Vaatu who's more immortal than Koh. I'm being an immortal—I'm being The Avatar! It's time I wielded my inheritance as it should be wielded."

"The Avatar dies because he is mortal- "

"His body dies, but his spirit never does- "

"No spirit dies."

"You know what I mean. Don't be disingenuous—you know it's different for us. The Avatar is different; he's immortal. The spirit is primary while the body is secondary. I'm in the Immortal Realm—or the Spirit World—to be immortal, so I can be primary and stop making these damned mistakes! Air's murder happened because I wasn't immortal! I was just a stupid, weak, pathetic, waste-of-space kid!"

Roku shook his head; there was an anguished lament on his withered face. "You were none of those things, Aang. But you are being them now. That is what you must understand- "

"Goodbye, Roku," Aang dismissed in disgust, forcing Roku away.

He focused his attention back to Koh's lair, following his internal guide—the awareness of Koh's great power that was impossible not to feel because Koh wanted all to feel his power in the Immortal Realm. He followed the beacon of power, passing familiar landmarks he had encountered during previous trips. Finally, he arrived at Koh's lair and saw the gargantuan wolf howling in the distance. But closer than the wolf's howling was the sound of talons scraping against stone, shrill and harsh—a haunting remembrance.

The familiarity of the place stirred Kuruk within him, and though he had come to an understanding with Kuruk, he refused to breathe life into him.

Aang entered Koh's domain, descending the steps, sensing Koh silently weaving past pillars and spikes, watching him. When he reached the bottom expanse, he opened his arms in greeting. "Hello, Koh."

"You claimed you would never return, Avatar," Koh greeted from behind him with a chilling laugh. "You promised it. But your only promise is your lies."

He turned to face Koh with a slight smile, knowing Koh possessed neither the power nor temerity to steal his face. "I meant it. But things change."

"Indeed. You are alone this time. Where is your beloved human?"

Aang felt his face darken. "Back in the Mortal Realm."

Koh sneered as the fanged baboon appeared across his countenance. "I would not steal her face. I know the conclusion of such an act."

"That has nothing to do with it," he dismissed. "She's not here because I didn't want her to be. I'm searching for answers and solutions. I'm being an immortal."

"Most intriguing," Koh murmured with a long hum as face shifted to a sallow-faced Earth Kingdom man with a thin, patchy mustache and beard. "And you forsook your promise to come to me. This must be important."

Aang's jaw clenched. "Why did any of this happen? I don't want to hear about Vaatu. I know it goes deeper than that. Tell me what you know."

Koh circled him. "Why come to me? Wan Shi Tong is renowned for his knowledge."

A humorless smile crossed his face. "Something tells me that your knowledge stretches back farther than Wan Shi Tong. Wan Shi Tong is about advancing his knowledge; he looks forward, not back."

"He dismisses knowledge irrelevant to him," Koh agreed; he sounded disgusted. "He looks for trees rather than roots. He is simplistic. He is the weakest of the Great Spirits for a reason."

"I think many reasons. You are far above him. I think you are above all your siblings. You are the foremost Great Spirit."

Koh laughed, and its echo reverberated everywhere. "Your flattery is futile, Avatar."

"I came to you because you are the foremost Great Spirit," Aang defended. "I think you're the only one who can give me answers. Why? Why did this happen? Why do I keep failing no matter what I do? How can I fix it? How can I fix everything that's gone wrong? What Is must be returned to What Was! How do I do it?"

"You must work your way to the depths and fix the disease rotting the core. There is something wrong."

"I know!"

Koh grunted. "I speak of a time longer than your lifetime. This has been a problem since before Kuruk. But since Kuruk, the deterioration has astonished even me. I have no faith in your capability to fix it. You know nothing about Balance- "

He grit his teeth. "I do this for balance! There was balance when I grew up- "

The Earth Kingdom man's face bristled as Koh shook his head. "No. Your mistake is in concluding there has ever been Balance, least of all when you were born; there has only been balance. The depths have not been balanced while the surface has."

Aang blinked. "What are you talking about? The imbalance now is insane! It hasn't always been this way! I know it hasn't!"

"It is worse now than it has ever been," Koh agreed. "Now the surfaces are imbalanced while the depths are on the verge of toppling to disarray due to the rotten core. All it took was a seed in the depths, but that seed grew, left alive to expand and rot the depths for eons."

"Like a spark burning down a forest."

"Yes. And no one, least of all you, prevented it."

Aang's eyes narrowed. "You did nothing, either! You said you were for Balance- "

Koh sneered. "This is not something I can fix. I do not know the origin of the problem. It has been like this ever since I can remember."

He wavered at the weight of that statement. "Has there ever been Balance?"

"At the Beginning. But I do not know when the Beginning ended. No one does."

"The Tree knows," Aang whispered in consideration. "I'm not going to let this continue. It's unthinkable; it's a blight threatening Balance by destroying the entire essence of Balance. If this continues, there will never be Balance again." He felt his desperation rise. "Tell me the answers I need! I know you remember something! I want Balance, too! I'll start with Air, the foremost presence of imbalance in the world, and I can work my way back and down simultaneously, going farther and deeper! I'll start at the surface and delve to the depths- "

Koh shuddered. "This is bigger than Air- "

"Nothing's bigger than Air," he snapped with adamant violence. "But how can I return Air? I married Azula- "

"Your beloved human, as Ummi was to Kuruk."

Kuruk thrashed inside him, but Aang restrained him. "She's not my beloved," he denied.

Koh's stolen face tilted at him with amused, knowing eyes. "You married her. Your spirit emanates the consciousness of procreation, which equals marriage under Air."

"It was a mistake," Aang explained, cringing. "It was a sin—an actual crime—to marry Azula. Air can never return with her as Mother."

"Can Air return with you as Father?"

Aang glared. "Of course. I'm the only one! I know it shouldn't be me—I know I'm last Airbender to ever live who should be the Father of Air—but it is me, despite the evil truth of that fact!"

Koh laughed. "The hatred you hold for yourself only glorifies your greatness."

"My lineage is all Air; I'm pure. Azula isn't; she's of Sozin's evil!"

The laughter increased and became increasingly derisive. "You claim you are being immortal, but all I see is mortality. There is no lineage in the world, except for, perhaps, Fire's royal line, that is pure. There are mixtures in all lineages- "

"Not Air," Aang denied. "Not mine. Air was pure, and it must be again."

"Your race was pure in their lineages, yes, but do you know why?"

Aang tensed, not liking the gleam in Koh's eyes. "Why?"

"They sacrificed their social standing to ensure the purity of their lineages."

He relaxed with a scoff. "Of course, they did. It's the only way. And I'm doing the same with Azula. I love her, and I think I always will, but she can't be my wife; she can't be the Mother of Air. In her blood dwells monsters and rapists."

Koh laughed. "I care not for your justifications, Avatar. I do not care what solution you choose to revive Air; I only care that you restore what balance you can."

Aang's eyes narrowed. "That is your only care? Balance? Then why would you steal Ummi's face and imbalance- "

Ummi's face appeared seamlessly before him, as lovely as he recalled, and Kuruk roared in grieving wrath inside him; Aang felt it more acutely than ever before—because he had reached an understanding with Kuruk. But he held firm and didn't let Kuruk loose. "I could not anticipate Kuruk's folly!" Koh snapped in a chilling hiss. "It was a lesson he failed to learn from! He learned nothing! This extreme chaos is his fault, not mine; it is your fault, Avatar, with your effusive arrogance."

Aang stared at Ummi's face and felt Kuruk's slumbering fury. "I know why you took her, but I also know why he hates you for it. I hate you for it, too."

A gleam entered Ummi's eyes as Koh laughed. "You are as fickle as he is."

"You ensured this path by doing it; you ensured Vaatu's rising and the imbalance plaguing both Realms during Kuruk's reign and since. Kuruk could have changed and learned from his errors, but your attack ensured he never did. At the end of the day, I think it's your fault- "

Stone cracked in a haunting rhythm beneath Koh's many talons. "You dare claim I am responsible for- "

"Not only you, but you played a part, certainly. You helped put everything in motion. Your decision helped lead to this. You are for Balance, which means that whatever you do, whatever action you commit, impacts Balance, whether good or bad. No matter what you do, you impact Balance. You miscalculated, Koh."

Koh sneered and rushed at him, but Aang stood, undaunting, knowing Koh only wished to intimidate him. As expected, Koh stopped a hair's length short of smashing into him. Ummi's eyes were beautiful to behold, but they weren't as beautiful as Azula's eyes. Kuruk's bellowing rage was deafening in intensity, and Aang almost surrendered to him, feeling sympathetic, but he maintained control.

"The only miscalculation was not stealing your face in any of your lifetimes," Koh snapped, and the words recoiled in the air like a strike of lightning. "I love the Tree, but I will never understand It's decision to love you."

Aang agreed with Koh, though he knew Koh would never believe it. "Which is why I'm going to ask It."

Koh's lair trembled. "You dare go to the Tree?"

"Yes. If you can't give me the answers I demand, It will; It will give me everything I want." Fierce anticipation surged inside him, billowing in his heart and emanating through his mind in concurrent waves. "The true answers—It will tell me everything."

He could possibly harm the Tree—as It deserved to be harmed!—if necessary.

A seething rage slammed against him as Koh howled in fury. "I would steal your human's face if she were here now! You embarrassing immortal!"

Aang sneered. "The only embarrassment is the Tree, who allowed this madness; It did all of this. It wasn't Vaatu. At the end of the day, it's the Tree who is responsible. Go as deep and far back as possible, and the only conclusion is the Tree. The Tree murdered my race- "

"Your race murdered themselves!" Koh roared. "They were human! All humans murder themselves; they decline into waste. It is their nature, which you follow now, you simple boy!"

His fists clenched. "This simple boy can destroy you."

A sharp grin crossed Ummi's face, which rippled with predatory intensity. "But you will not."

Aang turned away. "Not yet, at least. I'm pretty sure, one day, I'm going to let Kuruk finish what he started last time."

"I look forward to it."

Kuruk's powerful anticipation to such a possibility made him stagger for a moment. "I do, too—we do, too."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Toph had not returned yet with Aang—most worrisome. Instead, Azula was alone with everyone else, including several people who would feel nothing if she died, except perhaps relief. The only thing that brought her solace from the fact Aang had clearly run farther than she thought was the fact that Appa remained.

Without Appa, Aang could not go too far—it revealed that it was not something serious.

Hopefully.

"I've looked at these maps more than anyone alive, and I still can't figure it out!" Sokka shouted in exasperation, shaking one of the maps between his hands. "None of it makes sense!"

Katara rolled her eyes. "Do you have it upside down?"

Sokka glared at her. "Of course not!" He flipped it around in his hands and showed it to her, though the angle was too severe for Azula to see it. "See? It's just as insane as before!"

Azula watched Zuko pinch his nose. "We said we'd ask Aang when he got back- "

"I'm tired of waiting for him," Sokka snapped. "I want to figure this out. I've never seen a map like this before! It's driving me insane." He stiffened and glanced at her, wary. "No offense."

Azula felt a brief laugh escaped her, surprising her. "You would know if I took offense. What do you recognize on the map? Any landmarks- "

"That's just it! I don't recognize anything on the map, and I've studied maps all my life! Maps are how the world makes sense! Maps are beautiful, but this thing is as ugly as sea prunes—because it doesn't make sense at all! But unlike sea prunes, it doesn't taste delicious!"

Suki nodded. "I don't recognize anything on it, either. You'd think it was a map of the Earth Kingdom because we're on the continent, but it shows nothing I've ever seen before."

"Are they all like that?" Katara asked, brows furrowing. "Surely there has to be one that makes sense."

Sokka started combing through all the other maps scattered around. "Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, and crazy! There's nothing here! Zuko, I think your dad's more evil than I thought! He clearly drew all these himself just so I would find them and waste years of my life trying to figure it all out! He's probably laughing his ass off right now!"

Ursa laughed. "Ozai has never been artistic, Prince Sokka."

Azula nodded instantly. "He always hated the epic romances."

"As he should," Zuko grumbled, face twisting in dismay. "I'm ashamed that I know some of them."

"I think you actually like them but hate that you do," Azula teased, smirk stretching on her face. "I did catch you reading Kai and His Conquered Chiefess several times when we were younger."

Zuko stiffened, eyes narrowed in denial. "I was studying for that stupid class- "

"The maps are more important than reminiscing!" Sokka shouted, waving the map in his hands almost violently. "Help me solve this, someone!"

Azula held out one of her hands. "Let me see one of the maps."

Sokka cringed and hugged the maps closer to himself, glaring at her with accusation. "You'd burn it."

She rolled her eyes. "Have you looked for a secret message on any of them?"

Zuko nodded. "I tried that. There's no hidden ink that must be warmed up to perceive. I looked at the maps, too. I recognize nothing."

Her brows pinched at the realization that Zuko—her brother who was much more familiar with maps than she was—recognized nothing in the maps. "Hand me one of them. Perhaps I might see something."

"Just give it to her, Sokka," Zuko said. "She's only going to look at it."

Sokka's eyes narrowed before he huffed and stretched across the space between them and handed the map in his hands to her. "If you burn it, I burn you."

Azula ignored the impotent threat and analyzed the map, eyes roaming the scrawled landscape; it was detailed impressively—more impressively than any map she had ever seen in the Fire Nation before—with sweeping colors and extravagant precision. "It is almost alive," she whispered, amazed as the scrawled landscape shimmered with majesty.

"I know!" Sokka exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "But it's only alive in its obscurity! There's nothing on it that's familiar."

"Do you think it's one of Wan Shi Tong's maps?" Katara asked suddenly, leaning over slightly to glimpse the map in Azula's hands.

Sokka paused before shaking his head. "No, it's different. When I looked at Wan Shi Tong's maps, I recognized everything. This is different. It almost feels bigger."

"It would be bigger if it has to do with Dark," Suki pointed out.

"What is this parchment?" Azula asked suddenly, bemused, rubbing the map between her fingers. It felt coarse and silky simultaneously, a most intriguing combination. "Have you felt anything like it before?"

Why did she know she had—had!—felt something like it before?

"No. That's why I thought it might have hidden ink," Zuko said. "But I warmed all of the maps up, and there was nothing. What's there to see is already there to see."

Azula realized suddenly where she had felt similar parchment before—Aang's airbending scroll that detailed true flight. She handed the map to Zuko and dashed into her tent with Aang and found his sack; she rummaged through it, bypassing errant items, and secured the ancient scroll. She walked back out to the others, who stared at her in bemusement—and some with suspicion.

"What is it?" Mother asked, voice intrigued.

She pulled out the scroll of true flight, and her memory was confirmed when her fingers brushed the parchment. She held it out and showed the others before she sat back down and took the map from Zuko; the feel was the same. "These are made from the same parchment. This was an ancient airbending scroll that Aang found at the Southern Temple before he met me."

Zuko's only brow rose. "Are you sure it's the same?" Azula handed him both for confirmation, and he nodded after comparing both of them with his fingers. "It's the same."

Sokka bounded forward, suspicions gone, replaced by curiosity as he felt the scroll and map. He scoffed when he realized that both were the same as he pulled back. "What does it mean? This doesn't tell us anything! It only raises more questions."

"Do the maps have something to do with airbending?" Katara asked, frowning.

Azula shook her head. "The map has nothing to do with airbending; there is nothing recognizably Air about it." She pointed out the many Air symbols and script etched onto the true flight scroll. "This has everything to do with airbending. The only similarity is the parchment."

"But what does that mean?" Suki demanded, looking as confused as Sokka looked frustrated.

She looked back at the map but recognized nothing detailed on the map, which seemed to visualize an unknown place—or forgotten place. "It seems ancient like the scroll," she observed. "Perhaps it details a destroyed land no longer in the memory of humans."

Sokka looked doubtful and gestured toward all the other maps beside him. "Look at all these and tell me if it seems like a destroyed land."

Azula approached the other maps, careful not to crumble them as she leaned closer. "I see what you mean," she whispered, brows furrowing as her eyes swept across the various maps, which were all connected obviously, but the only recognition was their connection. Everything detailed and drawn in the maps was impossible to recognize, even going from map to map. "I recognize none of the landscapes or rivers or mountains or trees, including the massive one." She peered closer at the massive tree, almost mesmerized. Even though drawn and not literal, the tree possessed a daunting presence, emphasized by the many ancient symbols etched around and below it—the only landmark that had any symbols out of all the maps. Whoever drew the map placed significant importance to the tree. But what was the importance?

"I was looking at the tree for a while, too," Sokka said, and she was surprised he was open with her, but she discerned that his curiosity about the maps was enough to minimize his distrust for her. "I can't read any of it."

Suki nodded. "None of the symbols make sense. I've never seen anything like them. You think there would be Earth symbols around the tree- "

"It must be somewhere in the Earth Kingdom," Azula murmured, thinking rapidly. "The only place that is capable of producing a tree of that size is on the continent. There should be Earth symbols. But I am unsure there is anyone living who could comprehend these symbols."

Pathik would be her only guess, but something told her Pathik could not comprehend the maps completely.

"Besides The Avatar," Mother pointed out.

"These maps are important clearly, but it does not seem to be of a destroyed land. I think there would be much more script on it and detailed labels and names—something to teach readers and discoverers in a story to pass on to prevent loss in cultural memory."

Zuko shook his head. "When I looked at it, specifically the emphasized sections, it seemed like Father was looking for something."

Sokka perked up. "Treasure?"

"The only treasure Father seeks is power," Azula said idly, understanding what Zuko meant. She followed Father's clear scribbles across the various maps; she realized swiftly that several areas were dismissed as potential targets based on the light, almost illegible 'X' scrawled on the margins of each area. "He is searching for something," she agreed. "It seems he visited several places and crossed those places out because they did not have what he is after."

"But the massive tree seems the most important," Suki pointed out. "The level of detail put for it is different from the detail for the other landmarks. Whoever drew it put forth significant effort to draw the tree. It's almost too beautiful to look at. That means something."

"Do you think the map might be about the swamp Huu and the Swampbenders live in," Katara suggested. "That was a big tree- "

Sokka groaned. "I thought of that, too. But nothing around that massive tree reflects anything in the swamp. Whoever drew these maps is an idiot!"

Zuko snorted. "I thought you said my father drew the maps."

"He clearly did! This is evil!"

"These were Father's maps," Azula interrupted. "He likely received them from Vaatu. Yet, he understood the maps clearly—some of the scribbles on them are his. The others I cannot discern."

Zuko looked solemn. "Or he was taught the knowledge—place—of the maps by Dark."

Azula sighed. "Aang will comprehend the maps—I know he will. We will wait for his input."

"How long is that going to take?" Sokka grumbled. "It's already been two days, and there's no sign of him or Toph."

"Appa is here—he did not go far," she repeated.

Sokka crossed his arms. "The South also isn't far from the Southern Air Temple. He didn't go far, but he still vanished for a century."

Katara's jaw clenched, and her blue eyes filled with irritation. "That's not going to happen again, Sokka! Aang wouldn't do that!"

"He will return," Azula assured, though she felt worried. "He will tell us what he can about these maps, he and I will go to the Eastern Temple to pick up Samir, and we will return here with her."

She looked forward to seeing Samir again; she found she missed her delightful presence.

For some reason, everyone's eyes stared past her. She felt the presence of someone two people behind her a moment later, and she sighed in relief that Toph had returned with Aang. She prepared her apology and was about to turn around to apologize to Aang, but a different voice interrupted her.

"Um, Azula?" Ty Lee greeted softly behind her.

Mai and Ty Lee!

Azula did not react, dissatisfied—but grateful. For she had the advantage! She knew she would have to confront them swiftly upon her return when she learned of their presences, but she had held firm and refused to seek them out, no matter how much she had wanted to get it over with. Instead, she had waited for them to find her, for she knew if she confronted them, it suggested that she thought about them—but she did not! Not at all! She did not waste a single thought on them. They would have to seek her out, giving her the advantage, giving her the power—for it showed that they were the ones desperate rather than her!

And her plan had worked! She was the one in control; she had the power; she had the advantage—as it should be, especially against them!

She glanced at the others surrounding the campfire, meeting their gazes, some of which were warier than others.

"We're going to go," Sokka said awkwardly, rising crookedly to his feet with Suki. Azula silently handed him the map as he passed her, which he took with greedy hands.

Zuko glanced at her, but when she nodded in acceptance, he stood up, as well. "Me too. Come on."

Katara followed Zuko while Mother patted her hand and smiled warmly. "Remember yourself," Mother whispered before departing.

Azula was alone with Mai and Ty Lee for the first time in over nine years. Rather than show that her mind—and heart—raced, she kept her face passive as she turned to face them.

What registered first was the obvious disparity in appearance.

They were the same height as they were during the War, but their faces were haggard and worn, eyes rooted with an experience that she never knew. They were both too thin, and their clothes hung off them; they looked much older than they should, like they had lived hard lives, not at all as she had imagined.

"You aged," she observed in surprise. She knew it logically, but whenever she thought of Mai and Ty Lee, considering them during the years, she had pictured them as the same; she had pictured them as the same weak girls who betrayed their princess.

Ty Lee smiled slowly. "You have, too, Azula. You look so beautiful—so like your mother."

Azula recovered swiftly. "You do not understand beauty, Ty Lee. All you saw growing up were reflections of yourself in your sisters. You had no ideal to understand, for you possess a rampant plainness, mimicked by all your sisters."

Ty Lee withered as expected, but Mai shook her head. "Azula, we know- "

"You know nothing," she interrupted, glaring at both of them. "You do not speak to me; you do not look at me. The only reason you are here is The Avatar's judgment, which I trust above all others, including my own. Otherwise, you would be away from here—parts of you here and parts over there."

"Then why not shoot your lightning at us and get it over with?" Mai challenged quietly, staring back at her with those familiar eyes, though the eyes were different. There was a weight Azula had never seen before.

It did not matter.

Azula smiled slightly, though she felt her eyes burn with ire. "I will not ruin what I have obtained for the likes of you. I am not the girl I was."

Ty Lee swallowed. "Why do you think we're the girls we were?"

She recognized the truth of the observation and resented it. "I know you are not, but I have no desire to know who you are now. You are not worthy of my regard."

Mai frowned. "We know we betrayed you- "

"I trusted you," Azula observed with quiet insistence, aware of how the campfire flickered with her emotions. "Besides Zuko, I trusted you more than anyone to have my back when in battle; I trusted you to be on my side; I trusted you to be my friends. But what did you do?" She dared take a step forward and was rewarded when both Mai and Ty Lee took a step back. "What did you do? You harmed your princess; you betrayed your princess; you humiliated your princess."

Mai's chin tilted. "Were we servants or friends?"

Azula's eyes narrowed. "We were never friends."

"We weren't," Ty Lee agreed mournfully. "After Zuko was banished, things became different. You changed."

"Was it not a friend's duty to change with me?" she challenged, dispersing the memories of her dread after Father banished Zuko. She had known that, without Zuko, no one could protect her from Father or distract Father. When Zuko left on his feeble ship, Azula had felt a part of her leave with her brother. All that remained with her was her terror—and Father. "You failed. You were weak."

"I'm sorry what happened to you," Mai said.

Ty Lee nodded with enthusiasm. "We both are."

"We never thought you would lose your mind- "

"You miscalculated," Azula snapped, reciting Mai's eerie words back at her as the campfire blazed. "But I am glad you betrayed me, for it revealed to me the truth of what you are—betrayers. You showed me your nature, and I will never forget it."

Mai's jaw clenched. "What about your nature? You were a kin-slayer, trying to murder your own brother- "

Azula rolled her eyes. "I never wanted him dead; I wanted him to hurt. Perhaps a broken bone or two and another burn scar—nothing more."

"How were we supposed to know that? It never seemed that way."

"A friend would have known," she sneered. "Both of you always had great usefulness to me. I enjoyed both of you. But I never expected intelligence from either of you. You are like servants truly—you are followers, obedient and more compliant than intelligent."

Ty Lee sniffed and wiped her misty eyes. "No. Whether you believe it or not, we were friends—I always thought so, even if sometimes things got uncomfortable."

Her eyes widened in outrage. "How were you my friends? You betrayed- "

"We were banished because of you. We let ourselves be banished to help you."

Azula stiffened. "What?"

Mai smiled without amusement. "Kuei wanted your head—he always did."

"And The Avatar relieved him of his when he refused to stop demanding mine," Azula snapped. "I know you were exiled. Zuko told me you had to avoid King Kuei's searches, but what does that have to do with- "

"It was a reparation," Ty Lee answered. "Kuei wanted so many, and Zuko had to relent; it was the only way to show peace to Earth and Water. Kuei was willing to look past Zuko's massive role in conquering Ba Sing Se, but he wasn't willing to overlook anyone else's. He wanted Ba Sing Se's conquerors to execute—to send a message, I think."

Azula had not known the source of Mai and Ty Lee's banishment. Zuko had only briefly told her that he had to surrender war criminals to Kuei for punishment, which included Mai and Ty Lee, and she had never asked for clarification, wanting nothing to do with Mai and Ty Lee. But she never knew it was specifically due to Ba Sing Se, which meant that she was at the forefront of King Kuei's demands. She knew King Kuei always demanded her head, but she never put it together with what happened to Mai and Ty Lee with their banishments.

"How did your banishments help me?" she asked, voice softer than she wanted.

Mai smiled grimly. "It took the focus off you—because the focus was getting very hot for a while there, so bad that Zuko and Avatar Aang were worried that some of the nobility would secretly send you to the continent themselves to alleviate the pressure on our race—and put the focus on us."

Azula gazed into the distance, brows pinching as her thoughts screamed at her in realization. "Aang knew?"

Ty Lee hesitated before nodding. "He didn't help with any of it—it was all me, Mai, and Zuko—but Avatar Aang knew about it. Zuko said Avatar Aang was looking the other way; he said Avatar Aang was looking at the clouds, instead—as he preferred to."

There was a small part of her that felt bitter Aang decided not to tell her the entire truth about what happened to Mai and Ty Lee, but the much bigger part felt relieved and grateful that he decided that she could learn it on her own when it was time. Furthermore, she knew if he had told her, she would have dismissed it in disgust, likely thinking it was his kind nature trying to make things more bearable for her than tell her the authentic truth.

But it was the authentic truth.

"How did it put the focus on you?" Azula questioned but suspected the answer.

Mai shrugged. "It was Zuko's idea. He said that once we were transferred to Kuei's men, it meant it was Kuei's problem; it was Kuei's realm, so to speak. If we escaped in Kuei's hands under his nose, it wasn't Zuko's fault or problem. It was only Kuei's problem because Kuei let it happen when it was in his hands. Zuko predicted that Kuei would be so pissed and humiliated that he'd focus on us rather than making demands for you. And based on what I know, it worked for several years until Kuei focused on you again."

Azula's eyes narrowed. "There is more to it."

"Zuko freed us in disguise from the convoy once we were halfway to Ba Sing Se- "

A short laugh escaped her. "As the Blue Spirit? Of course."

Ty Lee nodded. "He freed us, and we made a mess of things."

"We buried Kuei's agents," Mai disclosed. "Killed all of them and left a mess so Kuei could get word back of a slaughter, which would enrage him- "

"Enrage him enough to focus on you rather than me," Azula finished quietly, nodding; it made a lot of sense. "I doubt Aang knows that part."

Mai hesitated. "Not that I know of. I don't think Zuko would tell him that."

"When did it happen?"

"A little over a year after the War ended. And Zuko publicly banished us to appease Kuei, promising that if we set foot back in the Fire Nation we would be captured and immediately sent to him. And we never saw Zuko again until we tried to assassinate him."

Azula's eyes sharpened, and an undying fascination overcame her. "You tried to assassinate the Fire Lord? Do tell."

Mai's face was paler than usual. "I put a knife in Zuko's neck and slit his artery; he was dying right in front of us, bleeding out in his private study. But Katara arrived, stopped us, and healed him."

She digested the news of her brother's near-death and felt grateful to Katara and, for once, did not resent it. "How did it happen?"

"We fell under Dark's sway during our banishment. We were tired and angry; we were sick of running. We wanted action, and we started to blame Zuko for the situation, and Dark took advantage. He brought us to meet your father, and he told us to assassinate Zuko, which would destabilize the Fire Nation and clear the way for him to seize control again. We eagerly accepted."

Her body ached from the phantom lightning, and Azula tensed. "You should have put that knife in his neck, not Zuko's."

"The thought has occurred to me," Mai responded dryly, and it felt so similar to how things were during their childhood that Azula felt a momentary burst of grieving doubt before she dismissed it.

"And Zuko spared you while Aang purged you of Vaatu's influence," she concluded. "I will spare you, as well."

Ty Lee swallowed and bowed her head. "But you won't forgive us."

"I see no reason to- "

"We visited you a few times in your cell," Ty Lee said softly, gray eyes—exactly like Samir's, and how much she wished for it to be Samir talking to her rather than Ty Lee!—mournful. "I don't know if you remember- "

"I do not," she cut in sharply. "I know Aang visited me several times, I know Uncle visited me several times, and now I know that you visited me several times, but I remember none of it. All I remember is that Zuko visited me every day for eight years, sometimes multiple times a day—that is what I know."

She was profoundly grateful and in awe that Zuko committed himself to such a thing; it felt moving and overwhelming. If the roles were reversed, she knew that she could never do it—nor would she have done it.

Ty Lee tried to smile, but her lips trembled. "We are so glad you're better. It broke my heart to see you like that."

"You got what you always wanted," Mai said with a wry twitch of her lips, though her eyes were dim. "You went insane and were on the losing side of the War, never trying to do better, and you get everything you want while we had to run for our lives for years, always on the run, never able to stay in one place too long, never able to make friends, and even if we did, we had to keep going."

Ty Lee looked away, distressed. "If we loved someone, we had to leave him behind."

Azula felt no interest in hearing their story, though she knew their suffering should delight her; instead, she felt something melancholic as she watched Mai place a brief hand on Ty Lee's arm in sympathy. She needed to end the conversation. "I will not- "

"And now you have the protection of The Avatar," Mai whispered, looking past her. "You have his regard; you have his trust; you have his ear; you have his love."

She would never tell them that she had possibly compromised some of what she had with Aang by offending his perception of Air.

Shockingly, Mai's eyes became misty, and she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "Everything worked out for you. Your mother and brother love you, and you got The Avatar himself to love you. We got nothing despite doing the right things."

Azula's eyes narrowed. "Betraying your princess was the right thing?"

Mai stood straighter and glared. "Yes."

She hated that she respected Mai's adamance and conviction. "You are so green you should wear Earth's color—it would match you perfectly."

Ty Lee shook her head quickly. "No, we're not jealous, Azula; we're sad. We miss how things used to be. Maybe we can start over- "

"There is no starting over," Azula judged in disgust.

Mai's eyes focused on the campfire for several moments. "No, but there can be something again—if we all want there to be something again."

"I do," Ty Lee chirped with hopeful eyes.

Azula looked away from those eyes—so like Samir's eyes! "I do not. I have no interest in it."

"I'm not sure I do, either," Mai said flatly, eyes dark. "Maybe later on. But right now, no."

"There will never be a 'later on,'" she condemned, pitiless. "I will not kill you, but I do not trust you. Your betraying natures will surface sooner or later, and if you hurt Aang, betray him in any way, I will kill you."

Mai scoffed. "You will be keeping an eye on us- "

"I have obligations greater than you," Azula dismissed, thinking of Aang, Gyatso, Samir, and Air—along with Father and Vaatu. The fact that Toph had not yet returned with Aang worried her profoundly; it had been two days. She actually felt absurdly grateful to Mai and Ty Lee for provoking her to think about other things, preventing her from dwelling on and worrying about Aang running off. "I must consider an entire race; I must consider the world. I am onto bigger things now, and there is no room for you with me. And I will not make room. If you do anything, I will know about it. If you want to survive, stay away from me."

Mai sighed. "We're not leaving- "

"I did not demand you leave. What I demand is you to leave me alone—do not speak to me or look at me," she corrected in interruption, adamant. "I will not attack you or harm you—perhaps I might protect you in battle if it comes to it—but nothing more."

"We'll live with that."

"I was not asking; I was telling."

Mai's eyes sharpened. "Yes, Princess Azula."

Azula smiled and felt that it was all teeth. "Now begone."

Both left, obeying her command—as it should be.

She stared at the lively campfire, aware of how the flames flickered sapphire the deeper she breathed to calm herself. Her concern was not for Sokka's maps or Mai and Ty Lee—she did not care for either deeply. Neither did not consume her thoughts and imagination, burning energy through intellectual exertion as she tried to find the words necessary to articulate her aims.

Where was Aang?

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Immortal Realm reflected his foul mood, which grew ever darker and more morose as he approached his destination—because he knew what he would see.

He knew who he would see.

He had tried to find the place Azula was trapped in her limbo to hunt down those disgusting spirits who slighted Air, but he failed to find it. Truthfully, he didn't try that hard—he was after bigger things. He decided to go to the source of the problem, which is why he elected to go the Tree.

But he needed to make a stop first.

When Aang arrived at the expanse of the Gardens of the Dead, as always, he could not bring himself to cross the boundary; he felt sick as he always did. His race wasn't real like he was, not anymore. The fact they were in the Gardens only reinforced the evil knowledge he knew. He looked across the massive expanse and saw his race in the distance, visible by the familiar robes, but he couldn't identify any of them—only their blurry outlines. It was a permanent reminder that they were gone and would be forever, never to breathe the air he so cherished, never to speak to him and advise him as he needed to be advised, and the laughs he once heard daily, floating in the air would never be laughed again.

He was all that was left of them, and he was inadequate so deeply it was shameful and disgusting—it was evil to a profound degree!

"I ruined you," he whispered, voice breaking, forlorn and devastated. "I'm ruining us, and did it even before my disgusting marriage. I accepted a worthless half-spawn as one of us, and then I married Azula. I'm sorry—I'm so sorry. I lost my reason. I was overwhelmed and surrendered to temptation—I'm sorry. I know you hate me—I know it because I hate myself—but maybe it can be a good thing," he pleaded, hysterical. "But I don't know. That's why I'm going to the Tree. I will demand answers and threaten It with destruction. I will force It to tell me everything I want. It will tell me if Air's revival is pure or damned with Azula as my wife; It will tell me if Samir will ever be able to be real instead of an imposter; It will tell me if my children can be real; It will give me the knowledge I seek. Whether that knowledge comforts or destroys me, I'll do what I have to, no matter what it is. I'll do it for you—you deserve everything I have to offer."

He would do whatever it took to keep Air pure. If Azula miraculously kept Air pure and everything worked out, he would stay married to her. But if, much more likely, as she had already started to, she sabotaged Air, he would work to annul his marriage—sift through all of Air's teachings across the ages of the world until he found a solution.

However, he would only know if the Tree revealed it to him—but he would make sure the Tree told him everything he wanted! He would threaten the destruction of the Realms for the knowledge he needed!

"You always said sex was dangerous," Aang recalled, remembering his lessons as a boy. Sex was talked about, but he had never understood the lessons; he had knowledge of them but no understanding. He had only been a boy, ignorant to the profound pleasure and temptation of sex. "I never understood then—I had no idea."

But he understood now.

"I want to do it again, and I want to do it again with her," he confessed, ashamed. "I know I shouldn't—I know that by doing it again I increase the possibility of an abominable Child of Air with Sozin's blood. It's evil. It's wrong—so wrong! But why do I still want to do it? Why am I okay ruining you again? Why do I keep ruining you? Why do I keep messing up? I love you more than anyone, and I will forever, but I keep ruining you. I destroy you daily with my failures. I'm so sorry. I need to be stronger." He stood taller and psyched himself up, visualizing Sozin's march through the temples and the rape and slaughter that followed; it was a familiar visual to him. "It will never happen again—I swear. I'm going to fix this. I'm going to make it all go away, and I'll try to make it like it was before where there were no stupid, worthless half-spawns passed off as Airbenders. I swear on The Avatar that Airbenders will be real Airbenders and will airbend again as they are supposed to; I swear on The Avatar that the temples will brim with laughter and joy; I swear on The Avatar that my children will be more Airbender than whatever else, real instead of imposters; I swear on The Avatar that my children will be pure; I swear on The Avatar that I will never compromise on my ideals and devotion to you; I swear on The Avatar that beaming children will run through the temple halls, faces red from exertion and gray eyes vigorous with fun and cheer." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I swear on The Avatar to stop failing you; I swear on The Avatar to teach my children everything about Air—everything you taught me; and I swear on The Avatar that my Mother of Air will be worthy, true, and pure. My children will be like you in all ways, and they will look like you, born of our race—they must be. Never will airbending children run in fear again, and never will they die in terror again. I will murder anyone who tries—I swear on The Avatar."

He tried to visualize his race's heads nodding in approval, gray eyes lively and proud, but he saw nothing before him—as always. His only solace was seeing his race in the Gardens from the vast distance, but it wasn't enough; it was cruel. But there were no children to grin up at him and remind him of better days and times—when the world made sense and was beautiful and pure. Samir was precious, but she didn't count—not like the children he grew up with and loved and would give anything to see again because those children were real, unlike Samir. He would destroy the world to gain a glimpse of airbending children again—real airbending children with pure, prestigious, and untainted lineages that were like him and raised in the same environment and culture, born of their magnificent race.

But there were no airbending children like that, and there never would be again—and he couldn't even see any of them in the Gardens from the distance!

Suddenly, Aang tensed at the memory of Azula recounting how she saw airbending children in her limbo, but that was impossible.

Right?

But Azula hadn't been lying—he knew she wasn't lying when she said it, which is why it enraged him so deeply. Because she believed it utterly, even though there was an obvious explanation.

Those weren't airbending children she saw—that had to be it! She was mistaken about what and whom she saw!

But Azula would know the difference between airbending children and other children of the other races. Out of anyone in the world besides himself, Pathik, and Bumi, she would know the difference and recognize it. But she vowed that she saw airbending children in her limbo and chased after them after they fled upon recognizing her accursed visage and physical inheritance. And airbending children would flee from anyone who looked descended from Fire as Azula clearly was.

But why would there be airbending children in limbo like Azula was? There shouldn't be! But he saw his race in the Gardens! He had seen them before! He saw them now! Why would there be any Children of Air in limbo?

A chilling realization raped his mind.

Was some of his race trapped where Azula had been? Were they in limbo, too, as in actual limbo? Had Indra neglected her duties and left Air's spirits in limbo rather than transport them to the Gardens for their rests? Why would Indra neglect her duties? But what if she wasn't neglecting them? What if she was incapable of fulfilling them?

Indra was compromised—it was clear based on everything he knew. It was why he had no idea where she was at and couldn't sense her no matter how hysterically he searched for her! And if Indra was compromised, it meant she was in a similar state to Agni and Devi, unable to take her Children to the Gardens, stranding them in limbo, and it meant that Azula was right. Azula did see airbending children in limbo! But who was to blame for Indra being compromised? Who was responsible? Sozin's attack on the temples and subsequent slaughter of all her Children had compromised Indra clearly—it was the only explanation that matched the timeline. But who had provoked Sozin's attack?

The Avatar did.

But Sozin was influenced by Agni, who was influenced by Vaatu. Everything was Vaatu's design. The entire Great War was Vaatu's design; Air's murder was Vaatu's design, which Vaatu had confirmed when they spoke at the Tree of Time. But what provoked Vaatu's influence and design? What provoked Vaatu's seething hatred that had been refined for eons? What provoked for Vaatu the eons necessary to plan everything and put everything in motion? Vaatu was imprisoned, which gave him all the time he needed, but who had imprisoned Vaatu and provoked Vaatu's hatred, which consumed Air through Sozin?

The Avatar did—it was his fault that his race was trapped in limbo, suffering and miserable!

Aang dashed away with a bellowing cry of grief and rage.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"I found him."

Azula frowned at Toph, who appeared out of the ground in an exhausted heap, face red and hair plastered to her forehead, sticking to sweat. She waited for Aang to appear besides Toph or walk out of the forest, face stoic and distant, but Aang did not appear. The others swiftly surrounded Toph, but Aang still did not appear.

It was only Toph.

Her dread grew as Toph only huffed for breathing, not looking like she waited for Aang to appear and explain things himself. "What happened?" she demanded, voice tight.

"He went far," Toph said, lungs heaving with effort. "Like, far-far. I passed nine towns looking for him."

Sokka's eyes widened. "Where is he?

"He stuck himself in a mountain."

Katara hesitated. "Was there a storm? Did he take shelter?"

Zuko snorted. "He's The Avatar; he's fully realized. Storms are beholden to his will; he doesn't take shelter from storms."

"Storms take shelter from him!" Sokka concluded with a flourish of his fingers that produced a snap that pierced the air.

Azula focused on Toph. "Is he coming back?"

"I'm sure he will eventually," Toph said slowly, features twisting. "I left him there- "

Katara gasped. "Why? Is he hurt?"

Azula's eyes closed in realization, slowly feeling a dreaded panic inflame her mind. Had she insulted and enraged him so profoundly that he wanted nothing to do with her and the others? "He refused to return."

Toph shook her head and took a drink of water. "It's more like he can't return."

Zuko frowned. "Why not?"

"He was meditating in a cave when I found him—he shut himself in there, and it was so deep in the mountain that I almost missed him."

"How did you track him that far?" Suki wondered.

Toph wiped at her sweaty bangs. "He left quite a trail of destruction; he turned over trees by running as fast as he did. Never think that wind can't be violent or an Airbender can't be violent. But he was meditating, and I did everything I could to get him to respond, including trying to literally earthbend him away with me, but I couldn't do anything; the ground wouldn't respond to me. He wouldn't respond, either."

Azula's dread increased as Katara and Sokka shared a heavy glance. "It sounds like he's in the Spirit World," Katara whispered, face tight.

"Yep. When I touched him, as in grabbed him to drag him back with me, it hurt," Toph said in agreement, dragging her hand across her mouth to gather the spillage of water. "There was too much power for me to handle. I think he's in The Avatar State."

"But why would he go now to the Spirit World?" Sokka demanded, confused. "He already said he can't find Dark."

But Azula knew why he went to the Immortal Realm; Aang had declared his intention of entering the Immortal Realm to hunt down those accusers of Air she refused to name, but she had doubted his conviction. She should have known he was serious in his wrath; she knew the essence of his wrath and how severe it was.

Ba Sing Se was the foremost example.

"Who knows?" Toph huffed. "No one understands what goes on in that thick head of his. Maybe he sensed Dark and acted on it."

"Regardless, we need to go get him," Zuko said quickly. "He's vulnerable right now."

Sokka grimaced. "We can't move his body without it hurting us- "

Mother sighed. "Legend says that The Avatar's descendants can touch him in his transcendence, for they carry his blood, which he recognizes somehow; he trusts them, even at his most vulnerable, such as when he enters the Immortal Realm and leaves his body here."

Zuko blinked before almost laughing slightly. "I should have realized that. That's why I was able to take him with me in the North when I kidnapped him. I didn't feel anything when I touched him but satisfaction and determination. We can take him if the one who takes him is descended from The Avatar. So it's up to me, Azula, or Mother."

Suki glanced at Sokka and Katara. "You both are descended from Kuruk- "

Azula shook her head. "No, their connection of descent is likely too distant—too long ago from its connection to The Avatar. Only the descendants of the most recent Avatars, as in Roku and Kyoshi, could likely touch him with no ill effects."

Sokka leered at her briefly with something like disgust. "I bet Aang wants only Azula to touch him."

She did not bother to correct Sokka's assessment; she knew that Aang did not want her touching him at all.

Mother glared at Sokka. "Such is her right. Do not mock her rights—lest the same befall you."

"We can bring his body back here and protect him better," Katara suggested. "It will be just like what we did before he brought Azula back."

Zuko glanced at her before looking to Toph. "Can you point us in the right direction? We'll fly on Appa and- "

Toph suddenly raised her arm and extended her finger, pointing. "He's that way. You'll see the destructive trail he left behind. Someone needs to stay behind and hold the fort down. I elect myself."

Ty Lee smiled awkwardly. "I'll stay behind, too."

Azula refused to feel grateful.

Mai nodded. "I will, too. We will lighten the sky bison's burden."

Zuko seemed to recognize it as an excuse but said nothing about it. "Alright. We need to leave now- "

"I will stay behind," Mother interrupted. "You five besides Lady Toph are most familiar with Avatar Aang. To encounter him in The Avatar State—it is a terrifying ordeal. My mother told me stories of when she saw her father in The Avatar State. She said she never forgot it, no matter how desperately she tried to. I doubt my presence would be beneficial in any way to him. I will stay."

Azula thought of Ba Sing Se and understood. Once, she had wanted nothing more in the world than to see The Avatar. After Ba Sing Se, she felt little urgency to see The Avatar again. She wanted only to see Aang, about whom she felt increasing worry.

If he actually managed to enter that place in limbo, she had no idea what he would be capable of. Would he realize that all the Children of Water therein were trapped because of himself—because of Avatar Kirku, who convinced the Ocean and Moon to sacrifice their immorality, which prevented them from taking any of their Children to the Gardens of the Dead since? Would he find Katara and Sokka's grandfather and great-grandfather and obliterate their spirits after discerning their fierce disdain for Air? Would he find the airbending children slaughtered during Sozin's conquest and grieve, feeling powerless to change their fates, for which he felt responsible?

Would he find Gyatso?

She felt dread at the possibility, for she knew he was not ready—not at all, even for Gyatso. Her confronting, even minimally, his perception of Air had culminated in catastrophe with Aang running off and going into the Immortal Realm in a gnawing rage and bitterness.

As they piled onto Appa, Zuko sat on Appa's head with her. "Toph said you visited the Face Stealer with Aang," he said quietly to her, eyes rooted on her face once they took off. "If you have to, can you go to the Spirit World and find him?"

Azula shook her head. "Even if I did find him, he would banish me back to my body the moment he noticed me. To sneak up on him in the Immortal Realm, where his nature is unleashed in its totality because the Immortal Realm can handle it, is impossible for one of us. The Immortal Realm is not here; it is not our Realm. We live in the land of mortals. Right now, Aang is in the land of gods, and he is supreme. He is furious with me right now."

"I think he's more furious with himself."

"That does not obscure the fury he feels for me."

Zuko's jaw clenched. "If we need to, do you think I could go to the Spirit World instead- "

"No," she cut in. "You are Fire Lord. You must stay here. If something happens to you in the Immortal Realm, which is possible beyond my words can describe, you will be lost to us. Only Aang could save you, but he is not in the mood to save anyone but himself right now. You would certainly lose yourself there. The Immortal Realm is terrifying; it is a place of Power, and only those with power endure it. We have no power without our bending." She dared raise one brow in mockery. "And I discern that you are not serene enough to meditate to enter the Immortal Realm."

"How do I become 'serene enough' to do it?"

"You must master your chakras, which means mastering yourself. Perhaps I will teach you once I finish teaching Aang."

Zuko snorted. "I'm not sure you'll ever finishing teaching him."

Azula tried not to think about that. Instead, she focused on the destructive trail guiding their journey with Appa flying low enough for them to see it, passing the eight towns that Toph mentioned. There was a clear, continuous path through the different forests and clearings in which trees were flattened and some shattered, and some parts of the ground were riddled with small craters.

She felt Sokka, Suki, and Katara looking at her, likely questioning what she had done to provoke Aang to not care about the destruction he left behind in running away, but Azula felt no desire to enlighten them. She wished it was only her and Zuko going to bring Aang back, but she knew the others would have never allowed it.

Unfortunately, she had to be part of a 'team' now—how maddening!

At least when she worked with Mai and Ty Lee during the Great War, they never questioned her and went along with everything she wanted. But she knew the others, specifically Sokka and possibly Katara, would challenge her every step of the way and refuse to budge. She knew she would be doubted with everything she did; she knew suspicious eyes would follow her everywhere she went, analyzing and critiquing her movements and actions, conceiving of a sinister agenda lurking behind her golden eyes.

She missed Aang; she missed the days on Ember Island when everything between them flowed so enticingly. Why, when she last saw Aang, did he not look at her as he had when they were on the beach, and his gray eyes assessed her beach attire a moment—or several moments, depending on the attire—too long? Why did he instead look at her with such incomprehensible fury, betrayal, panic, and disgust before he ran off?

She knew why—she pressed him too hard and acted on impulse rather than on thought. She wanted so desperately to share her joy over meeting Gyatso with him and learning the truth about Air that she unintelligently failed to consider what it meant to Aang. She had only felt what it meant to her and foolishly neglected to ponder Aang's possible reactions. She had wanted him to embrace her and look at her as he had on Ember Island—look at her as he had when he pulled her back from her death and married her.

She should have foreseen his reaction—she should have! It was exactly like when Zuko challenged her perception of Fire right after he betrayed Father on the Day of Black Sun, and she could not comprehend it, rebelling so completely and passionately, clutching her conceptions all the tighter in which everything malleable within her became painfully rigid, which culminated in her mind breaking and madness consuming her.

But would Aang's mind break?

Azula felt a chill grip her spirit as the only conclusion she could conceive was that Aang's mind would—would!—break.

What would The Avatar's mind breaking look like? Something—many things—told her it would make what happened at and to Ba Sing Se look pitiful in comparison.

"That's the end of it," Zuko muttered, craning his face off to the side, staring down at the mountain, at which the destructive trail stopped. "He's in there."

She directed Appa to land and ordered he wait at the base, but when she realized that there was no tunnel into the mountain, she paused. Swiftly, the others realized the problem.

"Oh no," Katara whispered, brows pinching. "He's running out of air in there."

"He left himself an air supply," Azula replied distantly, trying to imagine what Aang looked like inside the mountain. Did he carve a cavern for himself and meditate, or did he tunnel inside and pause randomly before closing the tunnel, sealing himself in darkness, and meditating?

Zuko groaned. "Why did Toph close whatever tunnel she made to get inside?"

Sokka looked nervous. "Or he closed it."

"We need to go back for Toph," Suki decided, gesturing for everyone to get back on Appa. "It won't take too long."

"We can get inside," Azula assured after several moments; she had enough hostility, aggravation, and stress to power her—more than enough. "Stand back."

Sokka's eyes bulged. "No lightning! Are you insane? With it this close, it'd even kill you!"

Azula stiffened as the memory of Father's lightning ending her flashed in her mind—and was felt in her body. "I would rather you not mention lightning killing me."

"Right," Sokka said with a wince. "Sorry. And just so you know, I actually kind of mean it."

Zuko grit his teeth. "And I 'kind of' mean that if you keep this up, I won't help you secure the North for yourself."

Sokka glared but said nothing, and Azula gestured for the others to step back. When they did, she summoned all her worry, dread, and frustration and unleashed it into the side of the mountain.

It was too easy.

A massive plume of sapphire flames blazed through the stone, carving out a large chunk, melting much of it.

Zuko glanced at her with his good eye wider than normal, ignoring the pallor on the others' faces. "Mastered chakras?"

"Yes."

"Now I have to do it," he muttered.

"You can help if you want," she offered.

Zuko scoffed. "It doesn't look like you need it."

However, her brother swiftly joined her in carving a scorched, blackened tunnel into the mountain. She knew Aang and knew how he thought—he would descend and go to the center to trap himself, literally intensifying the burden he felt to punish himself for the weight of his crimes and sins.

She directed her flames with Zuko lower and lower, trekking downward, maintaining their steady footing. She dimly recognized that Katara, Sokka, and Suki followed from behind, and she resented how her back was vulnerable to her former enemies, none of whom she trusted.

But she continued to find Aang, pressing herself harder, hoping that if she found him quickly, she would feel less compromised and vulnerable physically.

Suddenly, her and Zuko's flames slammed stone to open air, and Azula lost her balance, and she noticed that Zuko did, as well, for they crashed below into smooth stone.

Aang had carved himself a cavern before meditating.

When she registered the light emanating from the center of the cavern, she knew its source instantly—The Avatar. The cavern was pristine and perfect—unnaturally so. And The Avatar's glow only seemed to emphasize its perfection.

Katara, Sokka, and Suki gingerly climbed down into the cavern with Zuko helping at key points while Azula approached The Avatar slowly, coming around to see his face. When she rounded his body, she inhaled less than smoothly. The Avatar was imposing, face harsh with an eternal, divine stoicism. He looked like Aang and unlike Aang simultaneously—a paradox that she was unsure she could ever reconcile.

And the glow was ominous and prickled against her flesh.

"How do we do this?" Suki asked quietly, eyes rooted on The Avatar, unable to look away.

Azula understood the feeling.

Sokka looked wary. "Pick him up and hope he doesn't wake up?"

"He is already awake," Azula corrected, assessing The Avatar, who looked immovable; she was honestly unsure if they would be able to move him. "He is aware of our presences, I am certain. He was aware of us the moment we landed at the edge of the mountain. He might have been aware of us the moment we left to come here."

"That's not creepy at all," Sokka muttered, face twisting.

"Let's check to see if he left anything first that we might need to take with us," Katara suggested, craning her head around the cavern. "Did he bring his glider? I can't see everything. Do you mind giving more light?"

Zuko and Azula both summoned a flame in their hands for more light, but, suddenly, The Avatar's white orbs snapped open, and Azula found herself immobile, and noticed dimly that the others were equally immobile; the air compressed her, squeezing her in place. It was so powerful that her limbs could not move, nor her head—only breathing flames from her mouth would be possible.

But she did not dare antagonize The Avatar, who would effortlessly deflect any attack she conceived—and respond with power beyond her comprehension.

Floating to his feet, The Avatar's white orbs glared down at her, for she was closest to him—and had lit a flame, which triggered his transcendent instincts.

"We need to protect you," Azula said, spacing her words, though her heartbeat increased as the white orbs peered down at her, stoic face coming closer to her own. She remembered the last time when Aang's face had been so close—when he kissed her and married her. However, that memory seemed like an impossibility as The Avatar assessed her with glowing orbs. "You are not safe here, Avatar. We will bring your body to a safe location. Do you understand? We want to help you. We are your friends."

I am your wife, she left unsaid, concerned about The Avatar's reaction—not to mention the reactions of the others, who had no idea she and Aang were married.

The Avatar stared at her for several long, dread-inducing moments before he assessed the others with slow intent. No one dared say anything under The Avatar's severe judgment; no one dared breathe; no one dared look anywhere but at The Avatar's daunting gaze, though it threatened their sanities.

Finally, The Avatar sat back in his meditation position and bowed his head without saying a word; his glowing eyes shut, minimizing the radiant light emanating from him.

Azula felt the grip on her body vanish, and she breathed easier and stretched her limbs, reassuring herself it was not her imagination; she dimly recognized the others doing the same.

Sokka shivered. "Son of a bitch. I say we leave him here. He can protect himself just fine."

She shook her head, feeling more numb than anything else. "We need to take him back. If Vaatu came here, I shudder at the result."

"I may be descended from Kyoshi, but I won't touch him," Suki said quickly, looking frayed slightly. "He held me in place like it was nothing."

Katara swallowed, shaken. "And it wasn't bloodbending. I don't know what it was."

Azula knew—because it had happened to her before on Ember Island when Aang unleashed a brief eruption of fury when she denigrated Air. "It was airbending," she divulged. "He willed the air to hold our bodies in place—and nothing short of his will would shake his hold. We need to take him with us."

Zuko sighed and reached out, placing one hand on The Avatar's shoulder. When nothing happened, no flicker on his face, Azula grabbed The Avatar's other shoulder. There was no pain, only a pleasant, invigorating sense of power that far exceeded Sozin's Comet. It was almost too much; it was intoxicating.

She understood exactly—exactly!—why Father wanted to be his own Avatar like Aang.

"He's so much more powerful than during the War," Zuko murmured, face strained. "I didn't actually feel anything when I grabbed him back then. Now I feel everything."

"You feel an infinitesimal fraction," Azula dismissed, though she felt the same as Zuko did. It did not hurt at all. Rather, she wanted to feel more, but she knew if she tried to feel more, if her body tried to take on more than it could bear, she would be destroyed, even though she was Roku's descendant. "Hurry. We have his trust now—we may not if we linger here and belie our vow to move him."

XxXxXxXxXxX

When they landed back in the camp, she helped Zuko lug The Avatar into her tent and reclined him on the furs, where he laid, boneless, eyes shut—but his tattoo of mastery shone with divine brilliance. For several moments, nothing happened before The Avatar rearranged himself to his meditating position on the furs, face never changing and eyes never opening.

He was hard to look upon, though part of the reason she had difficulty gazing upon him was due to the fact she looked for Aang and found him nowhere—because he did not want her to see him. Aang ran off to the Immortal Realm to avenge himself on Air's accusers, distrusting her so severely that he deprived her of seeing him—for however long he wished. Time worked differently in the Immortal Realm. It might take him days to avenge himself, which meant it would equal weeks in the Mortal Realm likely.

Azula hoped he avenged himself swiftly.

"He looks weird with hair," Mai observed dryly, coming into the tent, and Azula forced herself to ignore her, refusing to fall into the familiar rhythm of the past.

"He looks nothing like he did," Katara agreed mournfully. "I don't know why he grew his hair out- "

"For obscurity," Azula supplied. "He wanted no one to recognize him. With his tattoo of mastery, there is no one in the world who would not recognize him—same for any Airbender."

Sokka's brows rose. "Tattoo of mastery?"

Azula glanced at him, surprised. "He did not tell you what his tattoo signifies? It is literally his tattoo of mastery. When an Airbender masters airbending, he is granted his tattoo of mastery for all to see. Unfortunately, upon the Attack, the tattoo ceased to signify mastery; it simply signified identification of an Airbender, which demanded murder. Aang told me that he hates and loves the tattoo; he said it's the biggest reason why Air died. Ultimately, the tattoo of mastery was Air's damnation. Any survivors of the Attack were known and recognized simply by their tattoo of mastery."

Zuko looked pained. "Because only a master, an Airbender with his tattoo of mastery, could hope to survive the Attack. It marked them as outsiders—abnormalities that needed to be hunted and destroyed."

Mother's face shadowed. "They could dress to look like the other races, blend in and assimilate, and never look anyone in the eye. They could conceal their ancestry, manifested by their physical appearances, with clever thinking, but their tattoo gave them away—it gave away the truth of their race, which is Air."

"And the tattoo is permanent," Azula reminded. "There is no obscuring it on the limbs, head, and back; there is only the hope to wear clothing that obscures it—and grow hair that covers the head."

Sokka frowned. "But most Airbenders, if men, who were masters would be older and, thus, much less likely to have any hair to grow to cover the tattoo of mastery on their heads."

Azula nodded, thinking of Gyatso; she doubted he was capable of sprouting much hair on his head, least of all hair thick enough to conceal his vivid tattoo of mastery. "It is no wonder why Air did not survive."

"Can he survive like this?" Suki asked, nodding at The Avatar. "Does he need food or water- "

"He's never needed it before," Katara replied. "I think The Avatar State sustains him, no matter how long he needs to be sustained."

Zuko's eyes closed briefly. "The Avatar State sustained him for a century at the bottom of the ocean with all the cold and unimaginable pressure; he will be fine."

"And he'll probably wake up just as energetic as he did when we found him," Sokka muttered.

Azula reckoned the only way Aang would be energetic upon his return would be with anger and bitterness.

"But what do we now?" Toph asked, kicking her toes into the dirt. "We didn't count on him deciding to stick his nose in the Spirit World."

Azula assessed The Avatar's stoic, unreadable face. "We must wait," she decided. "He will not be gone long. He might return later today."

She hoped he would; she disliked the thought of him traveling the Immortal Realm in a rage, hunting for Air's accusers.

Sokka scoffed. "You don't get to decide that. Everyone else, what do you think we should do?"

"Wait."

"The only thing to do is wait."

"I have to say wait."

"It's a good location; we should wait."

"Aang's already upset; we don't want to upset him more by leaving. We should wait."

"You heard everyone else—we need to wait. I have enough gunk to pick out of my toes for days; we'll be good here."

"It does not seem pressing to leave. We have everything we need right here."

"You said it yourself, Sokka—my father would never guess we were here."

Sokka nodded. "Okay, we're going to wait."

Azula rolled her eyes. Being part of a 'team' was unbelievably overrated. It was quite sickening—what an 'excellent' use of time.

Zuko rubbed his hands together. "But while we wait, I want to master my chakras."

Her brows rose, surprised. "Aang has not yet- "

"Aang had his chance," Zuko said boldly. "I want my chance. I felt your flames when we went into the mountain. The only time I've ever felt your fire with that intensity before was during Sozin's Comet."

Azula smirked. "I know."

"I know, too," Katara echoed with a hollow, distant look on her face.

"That's been bugging me," Sokka interrupted. "I thought only The Avatar can master chakras."

Toph smacked her forehead with her palm. "Damn. I knew I'd forget to explain all that."

Sokka groaned. "Was there anything else you forgot to tell us?"

"I told you all of the important stuff, Snoozles."

"This sounds pretty important, Toph!"

"It wasn't as important as Azula dying, Aang losing his shit, and me almost dying!"

"But you could have told us this after."

"It slipped my mind. I was thinking about other things."

"A lot of stuff happens to slip your- "

Azula shook her head in painful disbelief, wondering what had become her—forced to listen to such idiocy. "Only The Avatar must master chakras," she interrupted. "Everyone else can choose to."

Suki hummed. "Something tells me that not all Avatars mastered chakras."

She recalled Pathik's knowledge. "True. But to face Vaatu, Aang must master his chakras; it is imperative."

"But if we're with Aang and on his side, we need to master our chakras, too," Katara pointed out with an urgency in her blue eyes. "It will make us grow stronger, capable of dealing with the threat. Azula said that we needed to train because we're not anywhere near ready to face Ozai. This could be part of our training."

Zuko's lips stretched. "Azula will teach us while we wait for Aang."

Azula's brows pinched, wondering how she lost control of the conversation so quickly—it was unacceptable! "I did not agree to this. The only one I vowed to guide is Aang."

"It is a good idea," Mother interjected. "You have much newfound wisdom to share, Azula."

She swept her gaze over the collective Mother deemed worthy of having such wisdom. "The only one I would consider teaching is Zuko—and perhaps you. No one else. My focus is on Aang."

Sokka snorted. "I hate to break it to you because I know how fragile your mind is, but Aang can take care of himself; he can focus on himself."

Azula exhaled slowly to restrain herself; she did not like being alone with everyone while Aang had left her behind. She enjoyed Mother, Zuko, and Toph, but she did not enjoy any of the others. And it was clear to her that, with the presences of the others, the dynamics she shared with Mother, Zuko, and Toph had changed.

She felt isolated even though she was not lonely—an irksome sensation.

"I want it," Toph said, milky eyes staring directly at her. "I felt what you did to those Fire Sages. I want my earthbending to be the same."

"It will help against Ozai and Dark," Suki pointed out. "It is a logical thing to do."

Azula sighed to soothe her growing frustration. "Anyone can master chakras, but I am uncertain any of you will. It is arduous and extensive. You must confront everything you have ever thought and done. Aang was unable to do it. It was a disaster when he attempted it. He fell into The Avatar State on attempting to master his second chakra, and there are seven chakras to master. I trust in his capabilities much more than any of yours, and he could not do it. The only one I foresee possibly succeeding in mastering chakras is Zuko, and that is not simply because he is my brother."

Zuko smiled slightly while Katara crossed her arms under her breasts, frowning. "I think we can do it. We have to try. We need to do anything we can to help Aang."

"What would it do for us?" Zuko asked.

"Anyone can master chakras though few are capable of completing the rigorous process," Azula explained. "If you master your chakras, your chi flow flows effortlessly, which provokes several changes. You increase your lifespan, quicken your healing capabilities, and reach your full bending potential. For those of my lineage, of Fire's royal bloodline, mastered chakras reflect the impact of Sozin's Comet."

Sokka paled. "But Sozin's Comet was only temporary; this is permanent." He looked at Katara with determined urgency. "You need to master your chakras, Katara. We need you to be on their level. Think what your waterbending will be at with that! And think about the healing, too!"

Azula rolled her eyes at the insinuation that only Katara was capable of stopping her if necessary. Katara would never be on her level nor of anyone of her lineage in terms of power until she possessed a lineage of powerful Waterbenders intermarrying and producing powerful Waterbenders, who repeated the process for many generations.

"Is it a successive build-up?" Zuko asked. "Do you get stronger with each chakra mastered? It doesn't simply hit you all at once when everything's mastered?"

"It is gradual with each chakra mastered," she answered, regretting it was the truth—for she knew it would only encourage them.

Katara nodded swiftly. "Then we have to do it. Even if all of us can't master our chakras, with each one we master, we're helping Aang. We have to do this."

"Aang did not ask for your help."

"He did not ask for your nomination for Mother of Air."

Azula felt pleasure in visualizing lightning smashing into Katara—and regret that she could not make her visualization a reality. "To do this, you will have to conquer your darkest, deepest, and oldest fears. Your shames, regrets, emotions, failures, and mistakes will all stare you down, and you will be unable to look away. It literally shines a light into your own darkness—it peels away the layers of protection you have wrapped around yourself and obliterates the lies you soothed yourself with. It will be one of the hardest things that you will ever encounter in your life; it is intense and overwhelming, and it is not a single occurrence. You must work to keep your chakras mastered for your entire life. This is a lifelong commitment."

Katara swallowed before jutting out her chin. "So is being The Avatar. We need to do this."

"You guys do," Sokka cut in, shaking his head. "This sounds like it's a better thing for benders than non-benders; there are more rewards for the grueling tasks at hand."

Thankfully, Suki, Mai, and Ty Lee nodded in agreement but said nothing. If Mai and Ty Lee had asked, she would have rejected them on principle—they never deserved it!

"Azula?" Zuko coaxed, watching her. "What will it be?"

Azula stared at The Avatar's body for a long time, hoping that if she continued staring Aang would return, but nothing happened. With a lamentable, frustrated sigh, she looked at Zuko. "Do you understand how difficult it will be?"

Zuko's hands clenched into fists several times, and his golden eyes flickered with dedication. "I understand the risks, but I'm prepared to deal with them; it's time that I did. Teach me."

"Teach us," Katara added.

She reckoned it might provide to her information to wield critically and dangerously if any of them attempted to attack her. Emotional manipulation was a critical point of attack that could give her the advantage in a fight when she is ganged-up on. "Very well. We will start in the morning."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Aang remained dormant within The Avatar, and Azula had ceased watching him attentively, aggravated. Was that how Aang had felt when he watched her for a month as he searched for her spirit?

If so, she admired him all the more.

She wandered the camp and forest to avoid the others, knowing she would have to perform for them in the morning to teach them to master their chakras; she would have to be pleasant and congenial; she would have to be an ally rather than an enemy to those she considered more enemies than allies; she would have to reduce suspicion and soothe paranoia; she would have to obscure the memory of the girl in the Great War and replace it with the mature woman Aang chose as his Mother of Air; she would have to be perfect rather than imperfect.

She had to meet their expectations exactly as she had to meet Father's expectations! She had to fulfill their demands to coexist with them on Aang's side, particularly since Aang was in the Immortal Realm and it seemed unlikely he would return in the coming days. It was a lie she told the others, but she did not think he would be back for at least a week. With how enraged and betrayed he had been, Aang would not mess around and go to the source directly—he would avenge himself swiftly.

It was clear the more she thought about it, and she would rather think about Aang than the others and their expectations.

What had become of her? How powerfully Father would laugh at her if he saw her! How he would sneer and belittle her! How he would critique and condemn! How he would judge and abuse!

She owed Aang's allies nothing; she owed them nothing but not attacking or killing them. However, Aang held fondness for them, no matter how crushed and forgotten they made him feel. And it was not only Aang; it was Zuko and Toph who enjoyed them and would not tolerate her attacking them or acting cruel to them.

How dare they demand she teach them to master their chakras when only Zuko—and possibly Toph—was worthy of her consideration? How dare they act like they had the right to help Aang after they had failed him so disastrously after the Great War? She was grateful for their failure, for their failure culminated in her meeting, connecting, and loving Aang, but she resented that they thought they could redeem themselves.

There was no redemption.

Azula hissed through her teeth as she felt her mastered chakras start to become rigid as she was compromised in her thinking, which manifested chaos in her body.

But she had mastered her chakras and refused to fall into disarray. She inhaled slowly and exhaled with equal care; she repeated the cycle until she felt her chakras realign, liberated from the momentary hindrances she had allowed to befall them.

With the pleasure of the freedom she felt, she recalled that there was still something she had avoided—she needed to confront the last link to her madness.

Azula searched for Mother and found her quickly in her designated tent once she returned to camp. She let the flap close behind her and prepared herself as Mother looked at her, brows raised. She had been tending a small fire in the center of her tent.

"Azula?"

"Mother," she greeted, voice as strong as she wanted. "I am ready for our conversation."

Mother paused before rising slowly, hands opening to the side. "I do not how to begin."

Azula nodded in agreement before her lips quirked. "Perhaps sitting down would be beneficial."

It would allow her to focus on her mind rather than her body.

Mother sat back down and smiled, eyes roaming her; Azula sat across from her. "Before anything else is said, I want you to know how proud I am of you. When I returned after Zuko found me and I saw you again, saw what you had become, I did not think this was possible." An ashamed and guilty expression flashed across her face. "I thought you would die before you ever healed and matured."

Azula laughed slightly and was surprised that she felt genuine amusement. "You were close."

"I never wanted to be, but I thought I was. I am sorry I did not have more faith in you at first, Azula; I am sorry for failing you in so many ways. I swore to myself to be a devoted mother. I thought I had everything figured out—I thought I would avoid the mistakes made by many mothers more intelligent than myself. I am sorry I made you live with my failures."

Mother's words floated in the air and, rather than battle, Azula nodded her head. If Mother had said such things to her when she had returned to the Caldera before Ba Sing Se's murder, she would have blasted her with sapphire flames, but now, she was ready to listen and comprehend; she was ready for maturity and balance.

She looked away from Mother's vulnerable, raw face and found comfort in the flames. "I thought of you often while you were gone—I thought of you more than I liked, more than I would ever admit. I am unsure a day ever passed where I did not think of you." She forced a smirk across her lips. "I know Zuko was not as devoted to your memory. He thought of his honor daily, not you."

"It was never Zuko or you who were dishonorable," Mother said softly, eyes devastated but solemn. "It was always me. Your father and I ruined both of you and marred you both with our dishonor. I am sorry I was too unintelligent and dishonest to realize what was happening and the logical conclusion of our failures."

Azula only nodded. "I tried not to think of you. Neither Father nor I ever discussed you—we considered it taboo. But you were there, anyway—you always were. I could not deprive myself of your memory, though I tried—I tried. But every time I saw my reflection, as the years went by, all I saw was you. I decorated my face to change my appearance—to look less like you. It never worked. Sometimes it only made me look older and, thus, more like you. But there was also part of me that was relieved I resembled you so deeply. It meant that you were still with me in the most obvious of ways. But, again, I hated it, too. There were days I wanted you to be dead—or return, and I would execute you for your crime against the Dragon's Throne."

"There were days I wanted to forget you," Mother murmured, surprising her—though, only by the raw honesty, not the fact she wanted to forget. Azula had wanted to forget a lot, as well. "There were days when the horror and guilt were too much, and I wanted to forget. But a mother who forgets her children is not a mother. Even when the pain withered my heart, I carried you with me. I am sorry you never felt that; I am sorry I left you alone—you especially. You needed me more. I should have taken you with me."

"I was stronger than Zuko in firebending, but that was all," she whispered. "I was so much like you that Father valued me more. However, in everything that actually mattered, I was weaker than Zuko—I see that now. I broke under Father's pressure, bending to his will because I was malleable. Zuko was not; he was strong—so strong. His will surpassed my own, and it will always; he survived under Father, but I did not."

She looked down at her hands, hands that were besmirched with the blood of too many. Indeed, Father had ruined her, but she was thankful for his lessons—phenomenally thankful. She was thankful for him. Because of him, she had learned the truth of the world and nature; she learned what survival meant and what she was capable of—a priceless gift. She was certain that without Father's teachings, she would have long been dead—long before Father killed her and Aang returned her.

"I know," Mother agreed. "I knew always. You needed me more."

"Is that why you did not say goodbye, for you knew if you saw me, you would be unable to walk away?"

"Goodbye as in- "

"I was there that night you murdered Grandfather when you came to say goodbye," Azula croaked, hating how her voice trembled, but she could not help it! It was too much! The heartache, disbelief, bitterness, and fury rose inside. "I watched you say goodbye to Zuko, and I watched as you did not do the same to me. You could not even look at me."

Mother's eyes seemed to die. "I knew if I saw you, I would take you with me. I did not want you to be banished like me."

Azula swallowed and tried to smirk; she knew it was a pitiful effort. "Two prodigies like us could have taken anyone."

"I could say goodbye to Zuko and leave him, but I could not do it with you; I was too weak. You are my daughter. And part of me thought that, after what happened in the garden, you would want to continue that conversation, which I could not bear. You rejected me once that day, and I could not bear a second rejection, not after I murdered the man I loved as my father. I was weak." Mother's lips trembled, and harsh tears spilled down her cheeks. "I am sorry. It was my mental fragility and weak constitution you inherited. Rather than spare you, I spared myself. It is the biggest mistake of my life."

"More than murdering Grandfather?" she challenged quietly, trying to keep her breathing even and balanced; she was failing.

Mother swiped some of the tears away and laughed slightly, though there was a haunted shrill in it. "A daughter needs her mother more than a father needs his daughter. Azulon understood what happened—you never did. You needed me, and I failed you—I failed you every day for the rest of your life."

"But it was before that, too," Azula pointed out, remembering. "That day when everything happened, we were in the garden, and I said that I hated you. I thought I meant it—because I felt it. I wanted to look like you, but I resented I did; I wanted to be me, not you. While we are similar, we are not identical. I felt you failed to see that sometimes when I was a child. It was the same with Zuko. You would handle a situation with him as you would with Father, but that did not work always—because they are different, even if imperceptibly. You would handle a situation with me as you would with yourself. You expected me to understand things, and I did not."

Mother nodded, features drawn with a tight smile. "I wanted to not be like my mother so deeply that I failed my children by doing the opposite of her."

Azula's brows rose, intrigued. "Grandmother Rina?"

"I did not like her," Mother recalled, eyes shadowed with regret. "I hated her on some days. I would pray to Agni to kill her sometimes because I resented her so deeply. When she did die, I thought I did it, and I felt guilty forever—I still feel guilty. I never knew my father—I only know his name, which tells me nothing of who he was and how I resemble him physically or in disposition. I was alone when she died, and it was overwhelming."

"How old were you when she died?"

Mother's eyes drifted shut and an expression of agonized lament crossed her face. "Fourteen. One day she fell sick, and it was unlike the other times. She was always falling sick, and that was one of the reasons I hated her. My birth took decades from her life—it took so much from her, which I understand now. I should have never been born to her with her extensive age and the fact she never had any children but me. I was a miracle baby, but I was only a miracle for me; for her, I was her death knell."

Azula watched the haunting remorse conveyed by Mother's eyes, which misted with emotions. "Something tells me she would say differently. You have spoken of her before, but I never sensed that she did not like you."

"She was controlling. She was terrified to death for me," Mother supplied, voice soft. "She wanted hysterically for me to be free from her family's fate. Everyone she ever loved died."

"That is everyone's predicament."

"Everyone she ever loved died because of Sozin—she told me that."

Azula's brows rose. "Is it true?"

Mother shrugged lightly. "I cannot say. But I know she believed it. I never understood her when she was alive. When she died, I went to the Caldera, enrolled in the Academy, and I made a name for myself. I brought attention to myself, which she never wanted. Then I met Azulon and your father, and I loved them both. I loved Azulon so much because I never had a father. To murder him as I did—I died, too, that day." Mother wiped several tears from her cheeks as her golden eyes rested on her. "I love deeply because I know what it means to have little of it—to have no family beyond an old mother who was sick much of the time. The first family, actual family, I had was with your father and Azulon. I love your father for many reasons, and I will never expect you to understand half of them."

Azula thought of Aang and shook her head. "I reckon I understand more than half."

"He gave me you and your brother—the greatest things in my life. He understood and encouraged me when my mother—looking back now, she understood clearly—never encouraged me; she restrained and controlled me. I felt like I was imprisoned sometimes. I was never allowed to go anywhere without her, though I snuck out often when I could. I did not want to be like that to my children; I wanted you to have what I never did. I lived in a squalid village near Roku's island—my mother could never let go of her family's memory. The palace was so marvelous and beautiful; it had so many things—so much history and connection. I loved you enough to leave you in a life of luxury and comfort rather than take you with me. I am sorry I thought wrongly and made the wrong decision. I wanted you to have a life rather than be on the run with me and survive—but you had to survive, regardless. I know you hate me- "

"I do not hate you," she interrupted, voice quiet but insistent, on the verge of wavering with emotion. "I hated what you did—but not you."

Mother smiled brokenly. "And hated what I did not do."

"Yes," Azula admitted. "But what you did not do became what you did do—for it became a choice not to do anything."

"I know."

"Why did you not rebel?" she asked softly. "I know what happened—Grandfather ordered your banishment for murdering him, an atonement in Agni's eyes for your sinful crime. I know that part. But what I have never understood is the fact you let him do it. I know you loved him, but you should have loved us more—should have loved me more—than him. Once he died, he was not around to enforce his decree of banishment—no one knew about it. You two were the only ones who knew, and that number dwindled immediately when he died because only you knew. Father never knew about the order; he would have dismissed it instantly if you told him about it. You could have preserved our family—you could have been there with us. The only one who enforced your banishment was you. Why would you do that? For Agni? For honor?"

Mother's breathing wavered, and her eyes slammed shut. "I know; I know. I wanted to punish myself, but I ended up punishing our family. If I had looked the other way from your father's machinations, I could have preserved our family—you are right. I should have done it. But my horror, grief, shame, and guilt consumed me; I felt insane. I was out of my mind, but decisions made while out of your mind are equally as real and have the same consequences as decisions made when sane."

Azula understood and once would have resented that she did; now she only felt a kinship.

"I was taken advantage of due to my love for my children," Mother continued in a pained whisper that waned in the air. "I was manipulated by my love for my children. I murdered Azulon thinking I was saving Zuko—and I would have done the same for you, Azula—but it was a lie, and that lie destroyed me, which helped destroy our family. Part of why I fled and obeyed Azulon's decree of banishment is that I never wanted to be taken advantage of or manipulated again. And there was part of me that wondered if, without me, you two would no longer be the pawns in manipulative games. It is obvious that to get a mother to do anything, you use her children against her. If I was gone, it severed the strings players in the shadows could pull and wield against you and Zuko."

"It makes sense," Azula said, finally coming to understand Mother's decisions that night. If she had murdered Father, she never would have understood it. But if she had murdered Gyatso, she knew she would understand. How Mother felt about Grandfather was how she felt about Gyatso, even though she had only encountered him for far too short a time. "It was meant to happen, somehow. I say with confidence that, without that night and the events of it, I would not be me. Everything changed because of that night; the fate of the world changed because of that night, and you played the central role. It is astonishing to think about. If our family stayed a family, our family would have never broken, and Zuko and I would not be who we are—and who we were during the Great War."

Zuko would never have been banished and marred—Mother would have never allowed it, and Father would have never dared do it, no matter how frustrated he felt with Zuko. She would have had Zuko by her side always, and they would have loved each other and been friends. But she understood it now—her family had to break so Fire could live again after The Avatar returned. Zuko was Fire's only long-term salvation, and Zuko's alliance with Aang was only possible due to Mother fleeing that night, stranding them with Father, which changed everything.

If Mother stayed rather than obey Grandfather's final decree, Zuko would have never rebelled against Father—that was a certainty. Perhaps Uncle would have eventually tried to join Aang, but so much would have changed. Victory would always be Aang's, but the victory's form would be different. She and Zuko would have been killed rather than spared, likely killed defending the Dragon's Throne from invaders, and Father would have been executed by Uncle, who would sit on the Dragon's Throne. Perhaps Uncle would marry again and sire an heir, but she found it more likely Uncle would rather let Sozin's line die out, which would culminate in a civil war upon his death as unworthy claimants for the Dragon's Throne vied for Agni's regard, tearing the Fire Nation apart.

"It produced such stress and grief, but it was the right thing in the end," Azula breathed, sitting straighter and feeling that final burden from her mind and heart dissipate in a smoking memory. "You saved Fire, Mother."

Mother did not look nearly as serene as Azula felt; she looked miserable and haunted. "Or your father did."

She shook her head. "No, you did—for you made the choice to obey Grandfather's decree."

Silence—before it was pierced by a thick, audible swallow.

"Do you think Azulon knew what he was doing?" Mother asked, voice shaking. "Do you think he knew what my banishment would evoke? Do you think he foresaw all of this?"

Azula considered it for several moments before smiling slightly. "He already tried to end the War through diplomatic means and realized it was impossible. Perhaps he foresaw your banishment as ending the War and preserving our race."

Mother sniffed and swiped at her tears before her lips stretched in a watery smile. "He was so wonderful. I miss him every day. But I have missed you so much more—you-you. The woman sitting here is who you are, not the patient I visited as much as I could when I returned. This is you, and I have missed you so much. Your wisdom astounds me, and it is a balm to my soul—you sitting here, healthy and intelligent, is a miracle I never thought I would see again. I am so proud of you. You triumphed, Azula—you did it. Despite your parents' failures, you have stridden so far—you are magnificence. You are a gift to me, my beautiful daughter, granted by Agni himself."

Her heart raced fiercely, and she tried to keep control, though she felt her throat closing with raw emotion; she waved her hand, though her hand shook. "I am sure Agni regrets giving you that gift," she quipped, recalling Agni's disgust for her.

"You have worked so diligently," Mother continued, approaching slowly, and it was only then Azula realized her hands were not shaking—it was her body that shook, rattled by the overwhelming emotion in her heart. "You have cleared the hindrances miring you. You are not mad; you are strong. I am so proud of you, Azula. You are much stronger than I or your father, and while I am aware that you might never forgive me, always remember that I am proud to call you mine; always remember that I love being your mother—you are worth it."

Azula swallowed and felt emotions overcome her, emotions that she had repressed because she had been too angry and heartbroken; she blinked rapidly, trying to disperse the tears that she refused to acknowledge.

She was failing severely.

Her tears spilled down her cheeks and splashed onto her quivering hands, which laid in her lap, trapped between her legs.

Mother's own golden eyes were raw as she reached for her hands and squeezed tenderly but firmly; Azula squeezed back. "I love you, Azula—I have forever and will forever. My pride in you has never been misplaced."

The tears came harder and faster, mind on fire with awe, joy, and love, and she watched her tears and Mother's tears fall in rhythm to their gripped hands. She nodded her head with rough jerks and tried to speak but was unable to; her throat was closed by her heart's presence.

When Mother pulled her into a fierce and desperate hug, she did not fight it. Instead, she embraced Mother back and basked in it, squeezing tightly.

"I forgive you," she gasped, the emotions feeling as overwhelming as Mother's hand gently stroking her back. A weight that had been bearing down on her for so many years vanished, freeing Azula as she hugged her mother tightly.

Aang had told her on Ember Island that forgiveness did not produce weakness but freedom; he said that it was difficult but worth it. "Forgiveness can be more painful than the act you are forgiving, the wounds that you had received," he had said, smiling distantly, staring past her; she reckoned he saw the old Air Nomads. "It rips you apart; it destroys what you cherish oftentimes. That's what Gyatso would say. He'd say: 'Everyone of any race, depends on apology and forgiveness. When you apologize for your error, you sacrifice your pride. When you forgive someone, you sacrifice your resentment. That's how you reach unity between the two parties; both sides sacrifice something that each cherishes deeply and, maybe, provides identity and definition for each side. There's not a more challenging or difficult commitment than forgiveness, the hardest trait by which to live, but beautifully and intentionally, there's nothing more powerful than forgiveness.' That's what he would always tell me. He's right—he was always right. I'm not there yet, I know that, and I know you're not, either, but I know you will get there, Azula. You will have freedom, and you will know its soothing embrace. You can forgive your mother, father, Mai, Ty Lee, and whoever else when it's time—when you're ready. There always comes a point when you're ready. I promise you'll get there."

She had scoffed at him and declared she would forgive no one, least of all Mother, Father, Mai, Ty Lee, or Katara. When he smiled pleasantly in response and said he believed in her, she threw fire at him, not believing him for a moment. However, Aang had been right—he had been right to believe in her.

If only Aang could believe in himself, for he deserved to be free—like Air. Yet, the only way for him to obtain freedom and peace was to destroy his perception of his race.

Azula felt haunted by the agonizing irony.

Mother laughed when she pulled back, and there was an awed hysteria in it. "I never thought this day would come."

Azula felt mesmerized. "Me neither. I was prepared to die resenting you. I thought that is what I would do."

"The twists and turns Life takes. May things be smoother and more comprehensible."

She sighed, thinking of Vaatu and Father. "Many things tell me nothing is going to be smoother for a long time. Vaatu is a foe beyond any of us. I cannot comprehend him."

"It is not your job to; it is Avatar Aang's job. Your job is to comprehend Avatar Aang."

"Most subtle," she drawled, amused. "I believe you are the only one who is comfortable with that. Perhaps Toph, as well."

Mother's eyes glazed with memories. "I know the experience of facing powerful criticism and doubt for loving a man beyond yourself. All the nobility hated me for marrying your father; there were several attempts on my life."

"There will be no attempts on my life," Azula assured, finding the notion laughable. "The others are foolish, but they possess limited intelligence. They know the conclusion if they kill me. I believe I will have more opportunities to kill them than they will me, especially when I teach them how to master their chakras."

"I suppose mastering chakras will be quite the exercise."

"You will fail to succeed," Azula notified quietly. "You are not ready."

Mother laughed slightly, though it was tinged with pain and sadness. "Your brother said the same to me earlier. 'I don't think you'll be able to do this, Mom,' he said. But I will tell you what I told him—I know, but I must try."

"As you should. You and Zuko are the only ones I am comfortable teaching. The others—I suspect it will go poorly."

"You will only have four students—myself, Zuko, Princess Katara, and Lady Toph. It should not be too difficult."

Azula shook her head. "None of you know what it means to master your chakras."

Mother waved her hand in dismissal. "I will know tomorrow, and that is enough. But there is something I must know now."

"Which is?"

Mother's golden eyes glimmered with pleasure and curiosity. "Should I expect grandchildren soon?"

Azula smirked. "Can you handle it?"

"You know I can."

"When Aang gets back, we will go to the Eastern Temple and return with Samir," she pointed out, trying not to feel guilty about leaving Samir longer at the Eastern Temple than she ever intended; she failed. "I suppose Samir will be your grandchild. Aang will adopt her in short order, and if he adopts her, I adopt her. I am most fond of her."

"Why would you adopt her if Avatar Aang adopts her?" Mother asked, face twisting in confusion.

Azula leaned forward as a smile split her face, born of the secret she held ever since her return. "We are married."

Mother blinked before her eyes widened. "Truly? How? Who are 'we'?" She laughed and shook her head. "No, no, forgive me—I know to whom you are married. I am simply shocked."

"In Air's eyes we are married," she explained. "When intercourse occurs, an Air Nomad is married. Aang married me, and I married him."

Silence.

Mother stared at her for long moments, amazed golden eyes roaming her before a large smile stretched her face. "I congratulate you, Azula. I am astonished. I do not know what to say."

Azula laughed. "No worries, Mother. Continue to not know what to say. I need your silence about it. You are the only one who knows. The others cannot know yet."

"Why?"

She smirked. "Aang does not know I know. But he is gone now. I would rather wait until he and I talk before alerting the others."

Their reactions would be amusing.

Mother's face flickered. "Does Avatar Aang know you are married?"

"Of course, he does," she dismissed with easy confidence. "He knows more about Air's customs and beliefs than I do—he knows. We are married."

"Are you sure he wants to be married to you?"

"Aang knew what he was doing; he made his choice. He wants me as his Mother of Air, and I accept. I love Air."

Mother looked past her for several moments. "He loves you but hates your blood. Did you know that?"

Azula rolled her eyes. "Of course. It is most obvious. I think I would be worried if he did not hate my blood. The fact he does means he is real and complex—delicious."

"Why did he run off, Azula?" Mother asked, voice solemn and concerned.

"It was not our marriage," she assured, voice dimming. "It was the fact I questioned him about Air and ruined his perception. I will apologize to him when he returns."

"Why did you challenge him about it?"

She sighed. "I thought he was ready. I miscalculated. I acted on feeling—a critical mistake. He is many wonderful things, but he searches relentlessly for something; he is restless. What he does not realize is that he searches for the truth and is restless because he can't discern it. I know the truth about Air, and I tried to tell him, but he rejected it. I should have foreseen his reaction. I was foolish and rash."

"Perhaps you were hopeful."

"I was," Azula admitted, thinking of Gyatso. "I wanted to tell him so desperately. It was all I thought about. It is all I think about now—he deserves to know. But I cannot add to his burden, not now. I must help alleviate his burden—as he has helped alleviate mine. He has too much to think about, and I cannot destroy the one thing he takes solace in. I will apologize to him when he returns."

She would let him believe the lies possessing him about Air.

"He is a great man trying to be good," Mother commented. "I will admit it is fascinating. He has a willpower that reminds me of your father."

Azula had noticed the same. "I know. There are several similarities between them like that. Their conviction is striking, particularly."

"He is unlike anything my mother told me about her father."

She laughed slightly. "He said he yelled at you."

"He did."

"No wonder I love him," she drawled, smirking. "It seems you encountered his rage and distrust."

Mother smiled slightly. "I challenged him about his love for his race and his love for you."

Azula's smirk disappeared, replaced by something urgent but solemn. "Never do it again. He loves his race more than anything—as he should. He should never love me more than his race. I have always known that my capacity to love him is greater than his capacity to love me." She felt a weight grip her spine—one that she had felt before. "Nothing will ever be as good as when he lived before. He has not lived in 109 years; since then, he has merely survived. I know he will live again, but I do not know when."

Gyatso had told her that Aang would find his peace, and she believed him.

"Can The Avatar live or does he, instead, survive through the ages, taking a new name each time he dies and is reborn?"

"I think he lives," she answered. "I have seen flashes of Aang living, but I am unsure any of them were genuine; I think those flashes were built on a deceptive foundation."

"Perhaps you can live for him," Mother coaxed. "By doing so, you will teach him to live again."

Azula shook her head. "It is something he must do on his own."

Mother smiled kindly with encouragement. "Then be ready for when he does."

Determination—and belief, for she trusted both Gyatso and Aang—surged through her in a sensation similar to lightning, but unlike Father's lightning, it would never kill her. "I will be."

XxXxXxXxXxX

As Azula stared at Mother, Zuko, Katara, and Toph, she glimpsed their eager eyes and sighed inwardly. Even though she had warned them multiple times of the incredible trials that they would undertake while mastering their chakras, it seemed that none understood the significance of what they would need to battle—ignorant to the severe, boundless trials thriving in their minds that needed to be overcome in an exhausting struggle. But she had given her word to teach them.

It also was a nice distraction from worrying about Aang in the Immortal Realm. She knew realistically there was nothing in either Realms that could hurt him truly, especially with him in his angered state, but she worried still—for she knew that he could hurt himself, and he was his biggest enemy, not Vaatu.

It concerned her deeply.

Azula cleared her throat. "We begin now to release the blockage that hinders your chi flow, which is the flow of energy in your body," she recited, recalling Pathik's words. "Chakras are a chain ascending the body, from the base of the spine to the crown of the head, nexuses of energy connected intimately with one another, creating what we understand as chi. This energy flows through the body in rivers, pooling in specific areas—the chakras—that reveal your potential, whether a bender or non-bender. When a chakra is mastered, keeping it open, the energy is free to flow through the body, strong and rejuvenating, not hindered by a debilitating block. However, benders can become more if they master their chakras, reaching their bending potential, which very few throughout the history of the world have accomplished. Already, benders have the potential to live a long time, but you can add decades to your lifespan by mastering your chakras. But to master your chakras means looking inward and being honest about what you find and reaching honest conclusions in pursuit of Truth. Each chakra has a specific purpose and deals with a different emotion, but another corresponding emotion always blocks the specific chakra until you do the work to clear the emotional excess. You will encounter many different emotions before mastering all of them."

"Did your dad master his chakras?" Toph demanded.

She sighed. "Assume he has."

"I'd bet the other side of my face that he has," Zuko muttered.

"Enough of him," Azula cut in. "Everyone, close your eyes. Toph, remove your feet from the ground." She watched to make sure they all followed her instructions. When she was satisfied, she continued: "The first chakra you will master is the Earth Chakra, which deals with survival and is blocked by fear; it is located at the base of the spine. What fears do you live with? What haunts you during the night? What are the fears that prohibit you from moving forward?"

XxXxXxXxXxX

Katara flinched as images of death flashed through her mind—her father being killed just as her mother had been, her brother lying in a pool of his own dark and thick blood, mutilated beyond most recognition, and her entire tribe—all of Water, both South and North!—lying slaughtered, bodies piled to the walls, unmoving and rotting. Worst of all, a world of absolute darkness encompassed the Four Nations and, at the top, Ozai ruled tyrannically as Vaatu's own Dark Avatar.

She quivered when she saw Aang's body hanging as a trophy from Ozai's throne of skulls for everyone to witness. The hopelessness of the sight robbed her of her spirit, for not even The Avatar could defeat Ozai and Vaatu. And kneeling before Ozai's throne of skulls with both arms missing was Zuko; his expression was carved with such hatred and fear that Katara whimpered.

The scene unfolded silently with horrific vividness.

Ozai stood from his throne, eyes black as night, and a malicious grin spread across his face; he punched his fist forward and the other side of the kneeling Zuko's face became enveloped by potent, unbearable flames.

Zuko jerked and shuddered and tried to scream but was unable to; his lips had been melted shut by the flames; the skin blackened and melted away. Parts of his skull were soon revealed and it, too, was blackened; it splintered and cracked ominously, popping like small explosions.

Katara panted in terror and tried to help him, running forward, but the harder she ran, the more vivid the scene became until it consumed her. She screamed, horrified that she could do nothing as Ozai stepped closer; lightning condensed into his hands in terrifying sparks. He placed a single finger against Zuko's blackened forehead, and before Katara's terrified eyes, Zuko's head exploded in a shower of red mist.

She was alone.

"Only now you understand," Aang sneered, taking Ozai's place, morphing with terrifying precision.

"Aang," she gasped, glancing to where Aang's body had hung off Ozai's throne, but instead of Aang's body, she saw her own body. "Run! Get out of here!"

Aang's face twisted. "I'm never running again. If you understood me at all, you'd know that."

Katara's breathing elevated. "But I do! I know you, Aang."

"My world died, Katara, and this is what it looked like." Aang's arms swept across the scene where her family lied—where her world died. All the loss made her choke on her own sanity as it crumbled down her mind and into her throat. "Everyone I ever knew—slaughtered; everyone I ever loved—forgotten. You lost nothing and think you understand my loss. You're the biggest liar I know."

"I'm sorry- "

Aang's face was imposing and pitiless. "I don't care. You had your chance."

Katara crumbled, falling to her knees. "Aang, I'm so sorry. I couldn't be your mother! It was too much! I couldn't handle it, not with everything I had going on! I was only a girl! I was fourteen!"

"You said I was your family- "

"I know! But I failed. I'm sorry. It's all I can say!"

Aang crouched in front of her, stony gray eyes rooted on her face. "You can have the entire world to say, and I'll never forgive you. You worship Family, and you deliberately shunned me from yours after saying I was part of it. You took the easy path instead of the hard one. It would have been easy for me to give up during the War after I learned the truth of everything, but did I? It would have been easy for me to kill everyone of this world that reeks of evil and murder, but did I? It would have been easy to end the War by killing Ozai, but did I? It would have been easy to be weak rather than strong, but was I?"

Katara shook her head mutely. "No," she whispered, voice breaking. "I'm sorry. I'm not like you, Aang; I'm not strong like you are. I needed a break. It was too much."

"You've always thought you cared, Katara; you've always thought you were so caring. But you've only ever cared about yourself—nothing and no one more. You never cared about me. You only cared about how I could help you end the War."

"No- "

"You killed me, Katara—that boy you look for every single damn time you look at me. He's dead because of you, and he's not coming back. You said we're family, but you killed me. You're a kin-slayer."

Her tears spilled down her cheeks as she gasped. "No, no, Aang. Please stop."

"Like you stopped thinking of me after the War?"

She bowed her head, silent, knowing he was right.

Would she ever understand Aang again? Would she ever connect with him again and feel comfortable with him again? Would things ever be okay? Would the world be alright?

XxXxXxXxXxX

Zuko saw Father looming over his loved ones with a smile that threatened to split his face; his golden eyes were alight with ambition and triumph. Beneath Father's foot, Aang laid, butchered, with lightning spasming through his form and quickly, the pain in his best friend's eyes were overpowered by Death. Zuko began to breathe heavily as he looked around and froze at the sight of Uncle's head on a pike next to Father; Uncle's expression was permanently stuck in fear. Katara laid, dead, by Sokka, but she was stripped naked with bruises coloring her once-lovely complexion; her usual bright blue eyes were dull—dead. The final expression on her beautiful face was one of terror.

Suddenly, the image shifted before his eyes, color blurring until he could no longer distinguish which was which. Then it all stopped, and Zuko inhaled sharply at the sight of Mother chained, nude, in front of Father. Burns wracked her body, and harsh bruises littered her swollen face; Father's quick, rhythmic grunts, and the thrusts of his hips, revealed exactly what was happening, and Zuko screamed and tried to shove Father away, but his hands passed through the apparition.

He whirled to the side when he heard unintelligibly muttering, and there was Azula sitting on the steps away from the scene of Father possibly raping Mother. Her head was held in her hands, the mumbles of his once-strong sister conveying insanity, and it had happened again!

Again!

Father groaned loudly, and Zuko feared what he would see, but he turned back around; Father had spilled himself into Mother. Father pulled out of Mother and kicked her to the side as his eyes gleamed at him, unashamed of his softening penis, which dripped juices and seed.

"My traitorous son," Father murmured, approaching him; he gripped his face, and Zuko couldn't move, frozen in place as Father's golden eyes pierced his soul. "You should have never come home. How does it feel to know that everything that you built will fall? To know that from the broken bodies of your friends and the ashes of this world that I will make a better one in my image? To know that I will bury you and build anew, never to be ousted from power again?" Father's eyes glowed black with divine power. "I am eternal, Zuko. The world is mine, and everyone in it is mine—you are mine. Your life is mine, and I deem it ends now—as it should have never been."

Father forced him down in a kneeling position, and he couldn't speak, could do nothing as Father raised a flaming fist; fire blazed towards his eyes.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Ursa saw Ozai—the man she loved and married! She saw him as he was when they were young, and everything was splendid and exceptional—when they were profoundly happy. She saw the way he had looked at her then and the trust and connection that flowed between them; she saw everything she wanted.

Then she saw Ozai as he became—saw him the night when everything changed. She saw his dim golden eyes as he confessed of Azulon's despicable 'demand to kill Zuko' and how there was no other choice; she saw as they plotted together in the next hour how to kill Azulon without too much suspicion befalling them—even at their most terrible, they had possessed such trust and connection!

But Ozai manipulated her—he lied to her. He had once promised never to lie to her, and while she knew it was an impossible vow and never held it against him when she knew he lied to her, murdering Azulon was different. He had provoked her to kill the man she loved as her own father; he had done it knowing how much it would destroy her.

But he had not cared.

What happened to them? How did everything go so wrong? How did such darkness descend over them when they had started in such light?

"I will never be what I was, Ursa," Ozai murmured, staring at her with his vibrant golden eyes. "That time is gone, and I refuse to go back. I made the world my own and achieved the glory we always talked about. But it was stolen from me, and I aspire to regain it. Will you stand by my side as you always did, or will you follow our children into the ruin they chose for themselves? Our children choose to stand against me. Will you choose them or me?"

Ursa felt her spirit wither and die. "I do not want to choose. I want us all together again."

"You know it is impossible."

"Why is it impossible?"

"You know why."

She shuddered, tears blurring her vision of Ozai's beautiful face. "Then you know my choice—I choose our children. We are done."

Ozai smiled slightly, and it was the smile she fell in love with—one of arrogance and strength. "We are not done, Ursa. We will never be done."

Ursa swallowed. "What of our children? What will you do to them?"

His golden eyes were solemn. "You know what."

"Why?" she cried out in desperation. "Why would you kill them?"

"You know why," Ozai replied, approaching her; his fingers lifted her chin, and their eyes connected. "You know the legends of my lineage—a lineage you share being descended from Henjul. Children rebel against their father, and their father punishes them—as he must. You know the precedent, Ursa—you know the truth. You know there can never be reconciliation; there can never be peace between us. Zuko humiliated and cast me into dishonor; Azula chose The Avatar over me, siding with my great enemy. They both did."

"Because of your choices!"

"Because of their choices."

"That they made due to your choices!"

Ozai's face twisted. "Which I made due to your choices, my father's choices, and Iroh's choices, and they made their choices due to my grandfather, my mother, and many others. But none of that matters, Ursa. Zuko and Azula made their choices, and the choices they made damned me. There is no forgiveness—there is only conflict. It is Fire's way—you know this."

"No," she denied, shaking her head.

"You still have a choice," Ozai murmured. "We can be together again—only if you do what you must."

Ursa wavered, sobs rising inside her. "I cannot. I will not abandon our children. They are our children!"

Ozai's golden eyes dimmed, but the ferocity remained. "They are, which is why it falls to us to deal with them. We brought them into this world, and we must take them out of it. Do not think it does not disappoint me—does not wither me—but it is necessary. We once said that we would make the world ours- "

"We were children when we said that! We did not know the ways of the world!"

"We said no one would stop us from heralding a brighter age."

Ursa brought a hand to her mouth to try to stifle the sob; she failed. "Our children are not 'no one,' Ozai! They are everything!"

"They were," Ozai corrected, voice soft but insistent. "They were everything until they chose their own paths—as we did our own. Their paths do not correspond with our path, Ursa. Our paths will come into conflict, and you know the conclusion—you know what must and will happen."

"I can prevent it; I will change it. I will fix us! I was a terrible mother and wife, but I will change course! I will redeem us and make us a family again!"

Ozai looked saddened but resigned—resolute and determined, as he always was. "We raised our children to have wills, but they have chosen to direct their wills at our will. This is a conflict of wills, and you know whose will is stronger."

Ursa trembled at the ferocious glow in Ozai's eyes. She knew, certainly—she had always known! "I know you are stronger, but- "

"You know the result—it is inevitable."

"Do not destroy them!"

"Why?"

"You know why!" she erupted in disbelieving grief.

Ozai shook his head. "They will destroy me—you know they will."

Ursa flinched, for she knew he was right. "I love you," she whispered. "And I love them. Do not make me choose—please. I want us whole again. I have missed you so deeply."

Something dark flashed in Ozai vivid golden eyes. "I missed you, but you chose to make me miss you. You betrayed me; you abandoned me; you lied to me- "

"Only after you lied to me!" Ursa cried out, stricken and furious simultaneously. "You made me kill Azulon!"

"It was a crime," Ozai acknowledged. "You know I will never deny it. But do not compare the severity of the crimes, Ursa. You know which one is worse. Your crime was worse than any of mine. You speak of making us whole again, but it was you who broke us in the first place. You are the one who destroyed our family and put our children on intolerable, unforgiveable paths."

Ursa shook her head but knew he was right. "I am sorry," she confessed. "I never meant for this to happen—I did not think it possible!"

Ozai was quiet for a long time before he looked away from her. "But it is the way things are. There is no changing it. We live with it—and what will happen."

"I cannot!"

"You will."

She sank to her knees and wept. "I know."

XxXxXxXxXxX

She was all alone, and Toph frantically smashed her toes into the ground, but nobody was around her; there were no heartbeats of enemy or friend. She felt nothing, not even herself. The terrifying darkness was everywhere, inhaled into her lungs with each rushed breath. She swallowed heavily and felt the familiar fear of loneliness sweep through her.

Vibrations suddenly filled her, and terror erupted in her mind when she realized what the vibrations were of—an enraged Aang in The Avatar State. The voice boomed in her mind with the strength of thousands of lifetimes and divine, sizzling lines of power scorched her feet, causing her to scream and stumble back; the air was suddenly withheld from her lungs, and she desperately clawed at her throat but was powerless against the dreadful might of The Avatar.

"Toph!"

The cry of her name was hauntingly familiar, and Toph could suddenly breathe. When she regained her bearings, she turned away and tried to hide, but she couldn't escape from her parents, who wrapped her in tight but delicate hugs.

Chains suddenly bound her hands and feet.

"We will always love you, Toph, but it is time that you learn the lessons that you should already know."

Her parents shoved her forward, and she heard the click of a latch; she reached around without sight, and quickly gripped a metal bar.

She was locked in a cage, from which she tried desperately to escape, but her bending wasn't working!

"No, stop!" Toph cried out, voice breaking. "You can't do this! Please! Don't treat me like a trophy to pawn off to suitors! I'm not a fragile girl; nothing will break me!"

"Oh, my daughter," her mother cooed. "You know not of what you speak. You will be safe here with us, instead of the ones with whom you acquaint yourself. If they hold love for you, it is but a speck compared to ours."

She rocked the metal bars but the more that she struggled, the firmer and less malleable they became. "Please! I'm sorry! Let me out!"

"We cannot do that, Toph," her father said with a chilly regard. "You broke our trust, and we are forced to do this because of your reckless and foolish actions."

"Dad, stop! Mom, please!"

"Your father is right, honey."

"I'm not yours to command! You can't do this to me, not again!"

"You have always been ours, and we will make sure that you never leave again."

Tears flowed out of her eyes, and Toph folded into herself, feeling the cage shrink with her until she couldn't move her body at all.

Suddenly, the cage was ripped away, and her parents were nowhere to be found. Instead, someone who terrified her more than her parents ever could appeared, looming over her with his distinct gait.

Bumi.

"Always a blind girl," Bumi said with his nasally voice, words piercing her. "You can never see what's in front of you. You figured out my secret, but what did that get you?"

Toph's anger surged through her fear. "You tried to kill me!"

Bumi snorted. "We both know if I 'tried' to kill you, you'd be dead. You could never stop me. Don't you know what I am? I'm the Fucker of Fire, Toph. You're just a blind bandit."

"You don't deserve the honors," she spat, memories and sensations blurring through her mind. "I'll tell Bor one day what you did!"

"No, you won't," Bumi said with a laugh. "You like living too much, and while you're pretty fucking stupid, you're not that fucking stupid. Bor saw something in you after all, and he's not an idiot. Soft, yes, but not an idiot. He's a lot smarter than I was when I was his age."

Toph's fists clenched, trying to fight the fear; she was failing. "Too busy drinking blood?"

"Something like that," Bumi dismissed before stalking closer, increasing her fear. "What are you going to do? What you tried before?"

She shivered as the memories returned—she had declared to Bumi's face that he could go fuck himself while she went to tell Bor the truth she had discovered, all from the words of an elderly embittered woman who pulled her aside while she was in Omashu. Apparently, she had been Bumi's predecessor's young mistress, and Bumi hadn't thought to slaughter her because she wasn't pregnant—like he slaughtered all the others. She had monitored the mistress's heartbeat and asked every question she could think of across the span of several weeks as she tried to determine what happened. But she figured it out, and she knew it was all true—the mistress's heartbeat never changed in deception, only in grief and anger.

But she had confronted Bumi about it rather than going straight to Bor—a critical, tactical mistake that almost killed her. When she went to leave after confronting Bumi, he attacked unlike any other of their spars; he no longer toyed with her or brushed aside anything she gave him with snorts and scoffs. No, for the first time ever, he took her seriously and crushed her within seconds, even though she attacked back with everything she had, fueled by the bitterness and resentment she had always felt toward him and the newfound betrayal of the source of his kingship. But he annihilated her, terrorizing her forever.

Never in her life had she felt as terrified as when Bumi loomed over her—the Fucker of Fire and Earth.

"When you're dead, I'll tell him," she snapped, trembling.

Bumi laughed. "I'll outlive you, Toph. You're too stupid to know what it takes to survive. I'm the only one in the world who fought the entire Great War and survived," he whispered, voice intense. "No one outlasted me, not Sozin and not Azulon. Try to attack me—see what happens. Disobey my order again—see what happens. You can possess centuries of experience, but do you think it will make a difference against me? Bor must never know."

"He deserves the truth of our history, which you fucking tarnished!"

"He would hate you for it," Bumi sneered. "He already hates you for what you did."

Toph cringed, blinking back the sudden mist in her eyes. "Stop it."

"You know he does. Why would he ever trust you again, least of all when you try to ruin his memory of me and debase his entire claim to kingship—all after breaking his heart?"

"He was the idiot, not me!" she protested violently, shaking in place. "I didn't ask him to do that! I didn't want him to!"

Bumi circled her with his unique gait. "But what did you do? You could have been honest, but what did you do? You gave him hope and stole it. You think I'm a rapist, but you're the rapist—you raped him of his hope and love, violating the trust and faith he had in you. And it was all you. No one made you do it."

Toph hated how her breathing wavered with emotion, and she tried desperately to control it, but she was failing—she was failing! "I knew you would kill me if I stayed."

"What a lame excuse," Bumi derided with a snort. "You just didn't want the pressure; you didn't want to feel trapped- "

"You already made me feel trapped after almost killing me!" she snarled, chest heaving. "And then there's the fact that you threatened me with silence forever—or you'd chop off my feet, hands, and breasts!"

"It's more than that, and you know it. You didn't want to feel trapped in a marriage, but you were too stupid to be honest; you gave him hope and pulled it away in the cruelest way you could."

Toph squeezed her eyes shut. "No matter what you do to me, you can't stop people from knowing. I'll tell someone."

Suddenly, Bumi lashed out and sucked her into the ground, crushing her body—she couldn't escape! It was just like he had almost killed her before! "You can never tell anyone, least of all Aang," Bumi recited, heart not speeding up or slowing down; it was terrifyingly calm, imprinted in her memory. "You think he'll believe you? You think he'll trust you? I'm his oldest friend. He doesn't want anything to do with me now, but he trusts me. We're the only ones who understand anything anymore. Scream my secret in his face—it won't do anything. He'll never believe it. But you're stubborn and stupid—you'll try to tell someone else, someone you know will believe it. But if you do, I'll hunt you down; I'll find you. You can hide anywhere, but I'll find you. You think you're Sozin or Azulon and can slip away from me? You're nothing—just a blind girl too stupid to see anything for what it is. And what about whatever friend you decide to tell? You think I won't kill your friend? You know I'm capable of it, but even more than that, I'm capable of so much more. I'm the Fucker of Fire, Toph, and I'll do anything to save Bor from inheriting my sins. These are my sins, never his. But what you want to do is unforgiveable. You want to tell him what I did and make it his problem. You want to ruin him and make his kingship a lie, undermining everything that he is. What kind of cunt are you, Toph? What kind of cunt does that to the man she loves? I've done everything in my power to keep him alive when all the world wanted him dead—when Fate spit on me and murdered all of my line but Bor and Anju. You may love Bor, but you don't love him like I do. I raised that boy when no other man would in my position. You can never tell him the truth. The only one who can tell him the truth is me—it's my choice to tell him; it's my right to tell him, as his king and grandfather. Never butt your ugly head in something that has nothing to do with you again; never threaten everything that I've done to help our race against our enemies. I spare you now—don't make me regret it. If you make me regret it, I'll chop off your feet, hands, and breasts—I'll make you undesirable in all ways, a true blind girl."

"Stop!" she screamed.

"Why?" a new voice asked, but it chilled her. "You didn't stop your cruelty. We won't stop ours."

She escaped from Bumi's hold, wishing she hadn't, for she knew who waited for her.

Bor's heart thudded in her sense with its memorable tune, but it was slow—too slow. "Why did you do it?" he asked, voice soft and on the verge of an eruption.

It was so different from who he was, even when she had felt him angry before. But she hadn't only angered him this time; she had broken his heart because she was too weak to be honest.

"You know why," she whispered.

"Don't you dare say that I know why!" Bor shouted, making her flinch. "You agreed to marry me, we laid together, and then you ran off in the middle of the night—after giving me the biggest headache I've ever had when you whacked me unconscious when I woke up and saw what you were doing! Of course, I don't know why!"

Toph averted her face, terrified of what she was showing. "I wasn't ready."

"Then you shouldn't have agreed to marry me! What kind of cunt does that?"

"A stupid one," she muttered, knowing he was right. "I'm sorry, Bor."

Bor scoffed, so unlike him. "Not as sorry as I am. I'm sorry I ever loved you. I don't know what I was thinking."

Toph swallowed. "You'll be a good king one day, but I won't be the queen next to you. I can't. I'm sorry."

"You were always right about her, Grandfather," Bor dismissed in disgust, turning away from her. "Do what you should have done when she threatened your kingship and my claim."

Bumi laughed. "Finally! Now I'm going to fuck you, Toph, like I fucked Fire and anyone who stood against me."

Toph was powerless as Bumi's attack swallowed her, crushing her bones and muting her screams, pulling her down and down forever.

She was trapped.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Azula sighed as she witnessed all their telling reactions about their darkest fears coming to life in their mind's eye; she focused primarily on Mother, who looked near death by the pallor on her face. She could only assume Mother saw Father and Azulon—possibly her own mother, Grandmother Rina, as well. "What you see is not real," she called out, raising her voice, trying to pierce through the shadows enveloping their minds. "It is true, but it is not real. It is an illusion conjured by your mind. Embrace the memories and illusions; let them have their time, and then move past them by accepting them. The only power the memories have is the power you give. Master your fear and, thus, yourself."

Their sweaty and shaky bodies stilled at his words and with cries of effort, Zuko, Katara, and Toph's eyes snapped open with clarity; their fears were released, but they also understood what they would be facing from now on as they mastered their chakras.

However, one pair of eyes was still shut, and pants and short cries escaped, floating in the air.

As Azula had feared, Mother could not do it.

She approached Mother softly and placed a consoling hand on Mother's shoulder; she noticed Zuko did the same to the other shoulder. "Mother, open your eyes."

Mother shook her head, emphasizing the tear tracks on her face. "I will never see him again if I do; we will never be a family again if I do. Right now, we are all together—as it should be."

Azula's eyes shut for several moments. "We are only together to you. Father is not here, Mother. He is gone—he has been for a long time. Open your eyes."

Raw, swollen golden eyes cracked open as Mother wiped her tears, smiling brokenly. "I cannot do this."

She squeezed Mother's shoulder. "You can sit with me as I guide the others through the rest."

There was a painful truth on Mother's face that Azula knew she would never know. "Thank you, Azula."

As Mother sat with her across from the others, Azula wondered how the others would continue—would they be capable of mastering all of them?

"Well done, everyone," she congratulated. "It is a most trying experience and you triumphed over it when most could not. You mastered your Earth Chakras."

Zuko blinked and inhaled heavily; he looked worn and dumbfounded. "Fuck, that was… intense; it felt so real."

Azula shook her head; she had warned them, but none of them had believed her. At least when Aang had warned her about the trying experience, she believed him. "That is its nature," she pointed out. "Each chakra, more or less, will be intense; it depends how blocked it is."

"I do feel a little stronger," Toph breathed out, stretching her toes against the ground. "Like, the tiniest bit. I can feel more—a little farther and deeper at the same time."

"Me too," Katara whispered, face pale slightly.

"Your bending will become stronger with the more chakras you master," Azula explained. "It flows easier. The path is being cleared of obstructions. You will reach your bending potential if you master all of them."

Zuko shook his head. "Aang already did this? Isn't that what he did during the Great War?"

Azula shook her head in turn. "No, he became aware of them to grant him control of The Avatar State; he opened them rather than mastered them. It was impossible then for him to master them being so young. Now he must master them."

It might be more impossible for him to master his chakras now.

"And he only mastered one of the seven," Toph pointed out quietly, seeming to understand why Aang had such difficulty for the first time.

She understood the experience of trying to master chakras.

"It is his destiny," Azula said. "He will never feel his true age more than when he masters his chakras. He will do it, and I will help him. Depending on how many you achieve, perhaps you can help me guide him."

If it meant Aang mastered his chakras, she would try it—for he needed his chakras mastered.

Katara nodded immediately. "Absolutely."

"Let's do another," Zuko said, straightening his posture in preparation. "I can handle it."

Azula sighed. "Very well. We move onto the water Chakra, which deals with pleasure and is blocked by guilt; it is located in the sacrum. Close your eyes again. Remove your feet from the ground, Toph. What guilt do you feel? What terrorizes your dreams with memories of sin? What deeds of your past are a source of remorse?"

XxXxXxXxXxX

Her mother's charred and blackened body flashed before her closed eyes, and Katara swallowed thickly, feeling her fists clench tighter. Her mother had died in agony to protect her because of the nature of Katara's gifts; she was a Waterbender, and because of that, her mother had paid the ultimate price. She caused it, however inadvertently, and her mother would never glimpse her grandchildren, never be able to create more memories of love and joy.

The image faded, and Katara saw the way that she had treated Zuko when he had first joined the Gaang after the Day of Black Sun. Her suspicion had shifted into paranoia and, for much of the initial nights, she had stayed awake, waiting for the treacherous Fire Prince to murder all of her friends, her new family. She had never given him a chance to prove his words true, instead choosing to heave scorn and derision at him, something that he never defended himself against. She had treated Jet after his betrayal better than she had treated Zuko after Ba Sing Se, and it was due to her perception that anyone of Fire was less trustworthy than anyone of Earth.

Suddenly, lightning erupted towards her, and Zuko jumped in front of it, shielding her from death and Azula's insane eyes. He had saved her life at what she had thought was the cost of his own; his body had spasmed with residual lightning and the endless screams had been stuck in her throat. Azula had then attacked her as fierce as fire itself, and Katara had been unable to help Zuko, to see if he were alive. She had fought Azula without knowing if Zuko had been killed from the death strike that had been meant for her.

The heat and Azula's eyes dispersed in a thick fog, and Katara saw herself in the Southern Water Tribe, content as she aided Pakku in restoring the South with waterbending. She was all alone, none of her friends save for Suki were in sight because she had abandoned them. Aang, Zuko, and Toph were nowhere to be seen, and she had been too focused, too selfish to realize what she had done—she had needed space and healing for herself without thinking what the others needed. She had wanted them to deal with their own problems rather than ask her for help—so she could deal with her own problems after the War. They had needed her, specifically Aang and Zuko, but she had turned her back against their needs; it was her fault.

The Aang she remembered during the War, that loving boy she awakened from a century's sleep, appeared in her mind and grinned at her, waving with vigorous relief. But when she smiled and waved back, Aang changed, growing, stretching, and expanding into the man he became—the one she knew now and couldn't understand.

Aang glared at her before turning away—exactly as she had turned away from him after the War. She felt guilty for being so weak; she felt guilty for failing to help Aang and, thus, the world because the world needed an Avatar who cared; she felt guilty for letting the world reach its current state. Maybe if she hadn't been so weak after the War, she could have averted some of the catastrophes; maybe she could have stopped Kuei from declaring war and everyone more time to deal with Vaatu and Ozai.

She could have made so many better decisions and done things better.

Why didn't she?

XxXxXxXxXxX

Zuko saw his crew on his ship while he was banished, all of whom he had treated horribly when they were nothing but loyal. They were good men whom he had treated like peasants. He had worked them relentlessly as he searched for The Avatar, never giving them breaks as they had deserved, and it had eventually killed them. Zhao would have never drafted them if Zuko hadn't been too stubborn; his crew of good men wouldn't have died at the Siege of the North if Zuko had been better.

Slain bodies then floated in his mind's eye, and he saw all of those who had died from his hands; he had killed many who were deserving, but many who were not. Innocent lives had perished because of his negligence, and the guilt condensed even further when he saw Aang's body falling in the caverns of Ba Sing Se. Behind it all, he saw Uncle's disappointed and heartbroken face, and, when he had sided with Azula, the image of Katara's devasted expression as he bore arms with his sister instead of her and Aang appeared. Then, there was Fulki-Aridam, or who Sokka had named Combustion Man, who Zuko had paid to assassinate Aang, his now-best friend after he had suspected that Azula's strike hadn't killed him.

He saw Azula thrashing as her madness consumed her, and he hadn't been there to help her—to protect her as he had sworn to do! He had failed to save Azula from her madness; he failed his little sister when she needed him most, when she needed someone to turn to—but she had no one because he left her alone under Father's dismissive regard. He should have grabbed her when they fought at the Boiling Rock and Western Air Temple! If he had, he might have prevented it! Why hadn't he been more clever? Why didn't he think things through? Why did he let his sister pay the price for his weakness? Why did he leave her alone when he knew the impact of Father's expectations and demands?

Why did he fail his sister?

He saw all the many concubines with whom he had shared his bed, how callous he had treated them, just as his father had certainly treated his own whores. He saw himself, his younger self who was naïve in hoping that father would love him, and the guilt was strong. If he had realized sooner that his father was a terrible monster, he could have avoided so much, saved so many lives, but because of his foolish blindness, countless mistakes happened.

He saw himself act with restraint against Kuei when, in the long run, it did nothing but evoke conflict that stole the world of lives. He saw himself visiting Father when he should have been stronger and resisted the impulse to see him. He should have conceived of steeper countermeasures to ensure Father could never escape, the steepest of which was death.

If he had executed Father, as he had known he should, Vaatu could have never freed him, which would have prevented so much, including Azula's death!

Why did he keep failing?

XxXxXxXxXxX

Toph saw the way that she had treated the Gaang when she had first joined; she had acted completely stubborn—more so than usual. She was unwilling to compromise in any way and because of it, they had all parted ways. The fate of the entire world was in jeopardy because of her stupid stubbornness. Aang could have never mastered the elements because of her actions; he might have never learned any earthbending or firebending because of it. He might have died without her earthbending training during the Great War and then Ozai's supremacy would have truly, certainly been inevitable.

Pleading roars and squeals echoed in her mind, and Toph flinched at the memory of Appa being stolen by the Sandbenders in the Si Wong Desert; she should have been able to do something, but she was unable to. Her inability to keep Appa safe then led to the most scarring moment in her life—her first encounter with The Avatar. She could have stopped that terrible moment if she had saved Appa, but because she hadn't, Aang had never been the same; he was wary, except for possibly Azula now, of anybody around Appa, even the rest of the Gaang.

She saw how she didn't have someone write a letter to Aang when, if she had truly tried to, could have done it. Toph had abandoned her greatest friend after the Great War when he needed her; her problems, when compared to his, seemed insignificant and she should have realized that sooner. She should have contacted him, but never gathered the willpower and courage to do it.

She saw how she rejected Bor so cruelly after accepting him completely—or so she made him think. She agreed to marry him only to leave in the middle of the same night after laying with him, making him think that everything was great. She hadn't been honest with him, too scared, which surely made him hate her now.

She kept making stupid mistakes!

She actually liked Azula. It seemed unthinkable, but she liked her. But she hadn't been able to stop Azula from dying from Ozai's lightning. If she had been stronger, she could have done something—anything!—to stop it, but she failed, and her friend died because of it.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Staring at the faces of everyone as their guilt was summoned to the forefront of their minds, Azula briefly wondered if she had looked as distraught as they did. Zuko's fists were clenched tightly, and his breathing was frantic and uneven; Toph's face was pale, and tears spilled down her cheeks; and Katara's features were pinched tightly, and her lips were pursed while she began to hyperventilate.

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

Slowly, each of them opened their eyes, and Azula observed them critically. Toph fell back against the ground, her toes slack in the air. "As Sparky said last time—fuck, that was intense."

Azula smirked slightly. "I believe he paused dramatically before 'intense.'"

Zuko sniffed; his weariness was unable to be hidden from her piercing eyes. "It doesn't mean I was wrong. This is more intense than 'intense.'"

"There is only one more we will do today—if you have the endurance for it," Azula consoled. "I know that mastering your chakras is a taxing and exhausting process. It took me about two weeks to do it."

"I have one more in me," Toph grumbled. "I'd rather do it now."

Katara nodded, though she looked fatigued. "Let's go."

"I'll try it," Zuko said.

Azula inclined her head. "Excellent, my pupils. The Fire Chakra deals with willpower but is blocked by shame; it is located in the stomach. What are you ashamed of? When reminded, what events curdle your blood?"

XxXxXxXxXxX

Katara saw Aang and Zuko alone while she had cowardly kept to herself in the Southern Water Tribe; she had been too afraid and timid to take the first step of reconciliation to message either of them; she had been too weak to be strong and keep contact, to keep being a mother and friend when she had been so exhausted and worn, just needing a break. Previous mistakes flashed through her mind, highlighting the embarrassment of her younger self as her actions were nothing short of a shameful performance. She remembered her infatuation with Jet before she had learned of his true nature, how she had chosen to trust a total stranger to whom she had been attracted over her own brother; she had almost been instrumental in drowning an innocent village.

She remembered Hama and how she had trusted that woman, had thought the best of her and compared her to Gran-gran, thinking they even resembled each other in appearance. Then because of her inability to grasp the manipulation of Hama, she had learned bloodbending and the evil depths of the accursed art. Katara had sworn never to use the art again, but the memory of the man who she had thought was Yon Rha appeared; she had bent his blood relentlessly as vengeance clouded her senses, her judgment. She had tortured that innocent man when he had had nothing to do with her mother's death.

She saw the way how she had treated her father after Ba Sing Se had fallen to Azula and Zuko; she had scorned him with bitter and sharp words. Yet, in spite of the potency of her anger, her father had understood her plight and was willing to give her space. Finally, she saw one of her worst displays of shame—her berating Aang when she had gone with Zuko to find her mother's killer. How selfish she had acted, how utterly shameful! It was terrible, and the memories of it pained her.

'I knew you wouldn't understand.' The words haunted her, especially the sight of Aang's horrified and wounded eyes. How could she have uttered such a profane statement? It was a deep shame that ate at her now because she saw with clear eyes, finally! Aang understood better than she ever would.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Zuko saw his younger self, full of naivety and arrogance, seeking Father's evil love; he had acted as Father's monstrous agent to please him, desperately striving to earn the approval that he would never receive. He saw how he had treated others, chiefly amongst them Uncle, how he had thought them without worth, that they couldn't possibly compare to himself. How wrong he had been! Zuko had acted the princely title that he had been borne to, but it was at the expense of others.

He remembered his actions beneath Ba Sing Se, how he had sided with Azula behind the underlying promise that Father would return his honor to him; he had been instrumental in Ba Sing Se's fall and Aang's almost-death. He had killed any resistance alongside Azula after Katara had escaped and Uncle was captured; he had wanted recognition from Father. After he had received it, he knew instinctively that he didn't want it, but he had instead chosen to remain stubborn; he sent Fulki-Aridam to kill Aang and everyone else.

He had been unable to help Azula after the Great War for a long time. He was convinced that the reason she took so long to heal fully—eight years in length—was that he had not released her years earlier. His reasoning had been that Kuei would declare war, which he would have, but Zuko should have told Kuei to go fuck himself and assassinated Kuei! He should have helped his sister! He should have saved her! He should have been a better brother!

After the Great War, he saw the numerous concubines who he had bedded; he had never wanted to be like Father and had taken great strides in trying to separate himself from him, such as growing his beard, yet he had proved that he was his father's son. Zuko remembered the mistakes at the beginning of his reign, how he had been too lenient with several of Father's old advisors, which resulted in assassination attempts against him; it was shameful!

His entire first several years as Fire Lord were shameful! If he had less restraint then, perhaps this new war would have been prevented.

Why did he fail?

XxXxXxXxXxX

Toph saw her childhood, how she was raised—pampered and treated as fragile. She loathed revealing her upbringing to anyone because the shame was too much. She saw her past actions when she was younger, stubborn as the earth that she controlled and selfish beyond any other. She had put the fate of the Four Nations at risk because of her shameful need for control; she had left the Gaang with the slim chance of ever seeing any of them again.

She had always prided herself on being strong and powerful, but that wasn't the truth; it was a lie. She felt ashamed that she had lied to herself for years, telling herself that she was a great person when the opposite was true: she had been selfish and vulnerable. She had never asked someone to write a letter to any of her friends after the Great War when she should have; she had abandoned her greatest friend when he had needed her most. She had rejected the boy she loved for doing something stupid by doing something even more stupid.

She truly was stupid.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Azula inhaled deeply after observing them for several minutes.

"It is normal to feel ashamed of your past actions; everyone suffers from the past. Shame is so potent and drives much of what we do; its claws penetrate to the deepest level of our minds, tainting our memories, which influence our actions. This shame you feel has deep roots. To continue onward with your journey, you must let the ashamed past die. Forgive yourself but never forget to inform your decisions going forward." Sweat poured down their faces, but slowly, their eyes opened gradually, and she smirked at their exhaustion-carved faces. "Told you it was exhausting."

"I feel dead on my ass," Zuko muttered, words barely reaching her. "And I thought bending practice when I was younger was tiring."

"It's all mental, spiritual, and emotional." Toph huffed, swiping away several beads of sweat from her forehead. "That shit's much harder than any physical stuff."

Her brother nodded slowly, leaning back on his hands. "In Ba Sing Se when Uncle and I were working at the Jasmine Dragon I was unconscious for several days because of spiritual upheaval. It was similar to this."

Katara looked concerned, though still weary. "What do you mean?"

"Indeed," Azula agreed, eyebrows furrowing. "I assume this was before I learned about your location in the city."

"This was during Appa's disappearance," Zuko recalled, glancing at Appa, who rested near her and Aang's tent. But Aang had not walked out yet; only The Avatar was inside. "I had learned of where he was being held and descended into Lake Laogai. I hadn't really known what I was going to do. I had contemplated everything that I could do, but I wasn't close to a decision. Thankfully, Uncle found me and convinced that the best thing to do was to free Appa."

Katara's eyes closed. "So, that's what happened. It's how Appa returned to Aang."

"Something had been re-aligned because of that decision," Zuko continued. "I was exhausted, similar to how I feel currently. I was in and out of consciousness for several days, I think."

Azula nodded her head after processing that information. "You need not worry about that because we are done for today. We can be done for several days if you like."

Zuko rose to his feet with a grimace. "I'll take you up on that."

Mother stood with a sad but small smile. "I am sure you are all hungry—come."

Azula immediately went to her tent and sighed when The Avatar's position remained unchanged. She let the flap close behind her and watched him; she did not want to draw his attention, but she felt a desperation. "I know you hear me, Aang. Whether you like it or not, you are The Avatar. Thus, you hear me now."

Silence.

She shuffled closer before she crouched in front of The Avatar, drawing her courage to look at his divine face. "It should be you out there with me mastering chakras. It should not be them. Or it should be you and them doing it. You should be here, not there. I know I angered you—I angered myself with my foolishness—and made you distrustful of me. I am sorry I said those things. I was wrong to."

Silence.

Though she had not expected a change or for Aang to awaken out of The Avatar, Azula sighed in disappointment. "Since you are determined to do what you feel you need to, I demand one thing of you—do not do anything foolish. I know you are invincible if you wish to be, and I know you wish to be now, but be careful, Aang. You still make decisions with everything you do now, and there will be results to the decisions you make. Be mindful."

Azula looked away from The Avatar, aware of the irony. When she first met Aang on Ember Island, all she wanted to see was The Avatar—before she wanted to know Aang. Yet, she had The Avatar now, but she could not see Aang.

She left the tent and found everyone lounging around a much larger campfire, snacking. Realizing suddenly how late it was—it was mid-afternoon, almost dusk—Azula went back into her tent, avoided looking at The Avatar, and rummaged for food. When she exited, she took a seat between Mother and Zuko around the campfire. She deliberately did not look at Mai or Ty Lee.

Sokka fidgeted before staring at her boldly. "They were saying doing their chakras like that was draining. Was it like that for you, Azula?"

Azula's eyes narrowed, knowing Sokka searched for ulterior information, but she failed to discern what he sought. "Yes. It took me almost two weeks."

"I'm just glad I'm not a bender," Sokka replied, pulling his hands down his body with exaggeration. "I'm perfect the way I am."

"I'm too tired to argue with you about that obvious lie," Toph snarked half-heartedly. "Come back to me when I'm not exhausted. I can do better."

Sokka glanced at Toph, rolled his eyes, before he looked back at her, face determined but wary. "Well, what did you see while you were mastering your chakras?"

Azula's jaw clenched—she should have known! "That is my business, not yours."

"I think it's our business. If you tell us, you prove you're trustworthy to us."

Her eyes narrowed as she waved off Mother and Zuko, both of whose mouths opened to defend her. "Would you ask Aang what he saw?"

Sokka's face reddened with stubbornness. "Yes."

"Lie to someone who would believe it," she dismissed. "Ask someone you trust before you ask me."

"I did," Sokka muttered, glaring at Katara.

Katara rolled her eyes. "It's none of your business, Sokka. And while I don't trust Azula, it's none of our business to know what she saw when she mastered her chakras."

"Does Aang know?"

Azula smiled sharply. "He knows anything that I choose to tell him. He has my trust. You do not."

Sokka muttered something under his breath but otherwise said nothing. Azula was grateful and basked in the silence as night descended.

It gave her time to think.

She felt tense; it was an unfamiliar, yet familiar feeling. She had become so accustomed to Aang's presence that she was left unsettled and disconcerted without him. The feelings were augmented because of whom she was surrounded; the cooked meal sat over the campfire and the awkward emotions were tangible in the air because without Aang, nobody understood the new dynamic and knew what to do or how to act.

If she were honest, Azula knew that she could easily be attacked; Sokka and Katara distrusted her with a ferocity that her younger self would have been amused by, but now, all she felt was a deep annoyance. She knew that it was the perfect opportunity for someone to attack, regardless of if Zuko and Mother were with her and would defend her. And possibly Toph, as well. Toph would certainly never attack her, but she had no idea who Toph would choose between her and Sokka and Katara.

She reckoned Sokka and Katara due to the shared history between them.

Then there were Mai and Ty Lee, who avoided looked at her as she had demanded and said very little in her presence—it was most pleasant. However, she knew Mai and Ty Lee could attack her, and it was more than possible that, if Sokka and Katara attacked, they would join the attack.

"When's Aang going to be back?" Sokka demanded after a long silence. "I can't take it anymore. We need him here. What's so important in the Spirit World? I guarantee you it's nothing nearly as big as what's going on here."

"Time flows differently there," Azula recited. "I was there myself when I went with Aang to speak to the Face Stealer—it is true."

"Is he like what the legends say?" Suki asked, curious, watching her with an even stare, not giving anything away. "The Face Stealer, I mean."

Azula thought of the Face Stealer and shook her head. "No. He is more frustrated than anything. He is dreadful, certainly, but I found him more petulant than terrifying."

Avatar Kuruk had been much more terrifying when he appeared in a rage and tried to destroy her spirit.

Katara frowned. "He's the one who stole Avatar Kuruk's wife's face. Did he say why?"

"To punish Kuruk for his negligence. Kuruk did not fulfill his duties as he needed, and he stole Ummi's face as punishment. He thought by doing so he would reform Kuruk of his incompetence, but he only antagonized his wrath. He made things worse with his 'solution' rather than better, and Kuruk hates even him now, over nine hundred years later after Ummi's face was stolen." She decided to be honest and raised a shoulder in a sly shrug. "I saw Kuruk myself. His hatred for the Face Stealer shook the entire Immortal Realm."

Zuko's eyes widened. "You saw Avatar Kuruk?"

Azula smirked. "I did, Zuzu. He even attacked me. He took Aang's place while Aang was distracted."

Sokka stared at her in fascination. "Why? Because you're of Fire?"

"No. He attacked me because I stopped him from killing the Face Stealer."

"They fought?" Katara gasped. "But isn't the Face Stealer one of the Great Spirits?"

"The foremost of the Great Spirits," Azula agreed. "But Avatar Kuruk made short work of him, even without his body there—such is The Avatar's might. I stopped him because we needed the Face Stealer's knowledge, and I distracted Kuruk long enough until Aang reappeared. He was not happy."

Toph's brows furrowed. "Twinkletoes or Dumbass?"

"Both. But I alluded to Aang."

"Maybe Aang's talking to the Face Stealer now," Katara offered, shivering.

Azula doubted it. "Aang told the Face Stealer he was an enemy by the way he acted; he said he would not forget the Face Stealer's choices. It is unlikely."

Sokka jumped to his feet. "I'm going to bed, but I swear if I have nightmares of the Face Stealer, I'm going to blame you."

"Naturally," she agreed dryly.

Suki rubbed Sokka's arm and whispered something in his ear. When Sokka grinned and strode to his tent faster with Suki, Azula suspected what Suki had 'offered' to him.

Zuko sagged. "He has the right idea. I'm exhausted."

Katara nodded. "We all are. I'm going to bed, too."

Azula inclined her head and watched as Mother, Toph, Katara, Mai, and Ty Lee entered their own tents, but surprisingly, Zuko stayed.

"If you are going to lecture me about the dangers of offending Kuruk, do not bother," she quipped. "It was a revealing experience."

Zuko watched her without saying anything for several moments. "Why did Aang go, Azula?"

Azula exhaled in annoyance. "I already told you- "

"You told me it was because you insulted Air," Zuko recalled, face impressively clear of whatever thoughts occupying his attention. "I know there was more to it. What are you not telling me?"

She scoffed. "For once in our lives, I told you everything. That is the only explanation about why he left."

Zuko shook his head. "I know you know Aang really well, but I know him really well, too. I'm the only one who's been with him, encountered him, and known him since the Great War ended. I've watched him grow; I've watched him age; I've watched him change. I know him, Azula. There is more to it than you insulting Air. He has dealt with people insulting Air ever since he awakened from that iceberg. You said he looked like he hated you, said you were sabotaging Air like Sozin was; he said that was your aim. Right?"

Azula's jaw clenched at the memory. "Yes."

"Then what am I missing?" Zuko demanded, leaning forward. "None of that has to do with you insulting Air. That doesn't matter. This is something deeper and more profound—it's bigger. I know you know why he left."

"I do not," she hissed. "Nothing else happened! We conversed at the lake, and I told him the truth about Air, which he rejected- "

"Why would he run after that? It doesn't make sense. Aang has never ran in his life from being confronted about Air, not since I've known him; he fights when it comes to Air, not runs. Why didn't he confront you? Why not yell at you? Why not teach you? Why not rage? Why not fight?" Zuko's golden eyes were precise as they evaluated her. "What overwhelmed him to such a degree that he ran off and went into the Immortal Realm to get away from it? This has a permanence that you insulting Air lacks, Azula. He talked about Sozin, which means it's a big deal. He didn't say you sabotaged Air, which would be what he would have said if it was really about you insulting Air; he said you were sabotaging Air, which means across a long span of time. He said you were in the active process of sabotaging Air, but why would that matter in that moment after he had spent a month pulling you back? What could have possibly made him change his mind, going in a complete opposite direction? Why would he think you telling him the truth about Air was the beginning of a process of sabotaging Air? Why would he think it was the start of a long commitment to sabotaging Air?"

Azula felt a shrill terror envelop her mind as she realized what Zuko meant. Aang running off had never been about her insulting Air—it was part of it, yes, but not the essence of it. He must have already been filled with doubts, suspicions, and questions. Her insulting Air had simply been the motivation to act on what had already been gnawing at him and threatening his judgment and sanity.

It was dreadfully clear!

She swallowed. "Our marriage," she whispered, voice faint in horror. She thought that, by marrying her, Aang was willing to look past her pedigree—the same pedigree she would give their children—because he realized he loved her enough after she died. That is what she thought! And Gyatso had seemed to confirm it!

But her confidence had been misplaced—she was wrong.

Zuko's eyes bulged. "What? What marriage?"

"Our marriage."

"You're married?" he erupted, voice astonished.

Azula threw a fireball at him, which he deflected. "Be quiet," she hissed. "That is not knowledge I am keen on sharing, especially now! Only you and Mother know."

Zuko stared at her. "But also you and Aang."

She rolled her eyes and grit her teeth. "Of course, dum-dum."

"You realize that's why he left, don't you?" he asked, though he nodded to answer his own question; there was an expression of pain on his face. "That's it. That's why he talked about Sozin and you sabotaging Air. He thought that all his fears about you were confirmed the moment you started telling him the truth about Air, which destroyed everything he knew and loved."

Azula hated her lack of intelligence—she should have seen it! "Thus, 'sabotaging' Air as Sozin did."

"I'm guessing the realization of your marriage and you insulting Air at the same time made him insane."

"Aang knew what he was doing," she defended, voice becoming more adamant and sterner. "He knew he married me by laying with me. It was not something that slipped his mind."

Zuko laughed, and there was a ring of scorn in it. "You have no idea what it's like. Sometimes, lust overwhelms everything—literally."

Azula's hands clenched into fists as she glared at her brother. "I guarantee you, lust overwhelmed me literally when Aang began his amorous advances- "

He held up a hand as his face twisted in frustrated dismay. "I don't want to hear that. All I'm telling you is that he must have been so happy to see you back that he couldn't think clearly and, in the moment, didn't care about the consequences."

Silence.

She bowed her head as her fingers rubbed her forehead in hopes of uncovering a solution, but there was nothing but her dread—it was all she felt! "Why would he say we would be married soon?" she muttered to herself, thinking about Gyatso and his calm, knowing assurances that she would be Aang's wife swiftly.

Nothing made sense.

"The man you met while dead?" Zuko asked.

"He said Aang and I would be married swiftly, and I did not realize he meant that swiftly, but he knew. Why would he say that if this is the result?" she demanded, something hysterical rising inside her. "Aang hates our marriage—he wants nothing to do with it. He literally ran to the Immortal Realm to avoid it!"

Zuko jumped to his feet and ran to her side. "Calm down!"

Azula realized she had made the campfire a towering sapphire blaze, and it took much more effort than usual to relax her hold over the flames. She did not speak for a long time, but she was grateful for Zuko's presence beside her. The dismay and exhaustion tore at her defenses until she leaned against him, cheek resting against his shoulder.

"I do not know what to do," she whispered, defeated.

Zuko clasped his hand against her head. "I can challenge him to Agni Kai if you want."

A broken laugh escaped her lips. "He would defeat you easily."

"You could challenge him to an Agni Kai."

"He would defeat me even easier."

Zuko's fingers clenched against her hair, and it reassured her that he was on her side—it felt nice. She had someone in her corner who knew everything and was equally as confused and distressed as she felt. Of course, Mother would be in her corner if she knew, but it was nice to have Zuko, for Zuko understood Aang and knew him better than anyone else besides her. It was a solace to have that kinship of confusion and dismay.

Though Zuko seemed angry, as well, but that was no surprise.

"He married you and ran off," Zuko muttered, voice disbelieving. "A literal Airbender. I bet he's proud of that."

Azula shook her head, though she knew her own anger would appear quickly. "No, he is not proud of it. However, he saw it as his only option."

"He dishonored you- "

"I have dishonored myself more than he has ever dishonored me," she dismissed. "When he returns, I will apologize to him and ask what he wants to do."

It was the only thing she could do.

Zuko jerked to glance at her. "An annulment?"

Azula nodded. "Air does not offer annulments as far as I know, but perhaps there is a forgotten custom he knows."

"I don't know how this is going to play out, Azula," Zuko whispered, voice sad. "I'm sorry—I'm sorry. None of this should have happened."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I wish this was a nightmare."

"So do I."

"I wish I could say: 'how could he do this?' But I know how he can do it. I am a fool- "

Zuko's hand vanished from her hair as he gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. "No, Aang's being a fool. He's entitled to it, yes, I get that, but it's him being the fool, not you."

Azula did not respond for a long time, eyes riveted on the campfire's flames, but she was provided no solace. "Is there not one thing that can go right?" she asked, hating how hysteria cracked her voice—as it once had her mind. "Why must so much go wrong successively, again and again? Why can there not be a break? Why can we not have one thing for ourselves?" Her fingers curled into her upper garb, bitter and resigned. "I have secured my peace, and I will regardless of the outcome—I know this. But I thought I could be happy; I thought I could experience the joy that Mother recalls every time she talks about Father. I know that joy will not be forever—Mother and Father are the foremost example of it—but I would have liked to have experienced it once. Only once—it is all I wanted."

"You still can experience it," Zuko consoled. "Aang will get his head out of his ass."

"He will never get his head out of his heart," she corrected. "And that is where he has lodged it. There is no room for me there as long as he loves Air as he does."

"I'm not sure it's love; it seems more like lust to me."

"You would know," Azula drawled, irritated, but agreed with his observation. "Air fell, Zuko. There were many reasons for what happened, and I do not know how to tell him the truth without inflaming his recognition of Sozin. He must know the truth."

Zuko grunted before a slight smile crossed his bearded face. "Then you don't bring it up. Someone else will."

Azula glanced up at him, startled. "You would tell him?"

"It might be better coming from me than you."

"Or it would only be history repeating itself—the Fire Lord telling The Avatar how things 'are.'"

"It would have a different result, at least," Zuko muttered. "You have no idea how long he's going to be gone, do you?"

She shook her head, and with each movement, the hollow sensation inside her spread—like a devouring flame. "I am less sure than I have ever been now. He could be gone years and not know it."

Zuko frowned. "Something tells me he'd know it. He's The Avatar. His sense is better than any of ours."

Azula laughed with a ring of hysteria and stood to her feet to do something—something!—instead of wither away in her rising fear. "But nonsense is never far from sense," she whispered, hating how she felt her hands tremble; she stuffed them under her breasts in response. "I know better than anyone. His sense is so high that it raises his nonsense to its height. I think he wants nonsense now. Nonsense is easier sometimes—it can be a reprieve before it consumes you."

"If he's not back in a week, I think you need to go look for him," Zuko said, watching her. "I don't care if he banishes you back to your body. Go again and find him again. Find him as he found you."

She closed her eyes. "I am unsure I can look at him right now. I know why he left—because of me. I thought our marriage was wonderful, but he despises it—he hates it so severely that he would rather be in another Realm than be near me, reminding him of our marriage." She was powerless to stop her voice from diminishing in the breeze. "Something has changed. We can never go back—we have gone too far. I do not know what to do."

Zuko tried to smile, but it resembled much more a grimace. "Why not get some sleep first?"

Azula shook her head, stubborn, though she felt the presence of exhaustion. "I must stay awake—I will watch him for the night. I did not spend the day mastering chakras. You need rest more than I do."

"I thought you said you couldn't look at him right now."

She glared at him. "You know what I mean."

Zuko pressed her toward her tent. "Sleep, Azula. I'll take first watch."

Upon entering her tent, she froze at the sight of The Avatar, who remained in his familiar, permanent position. She stared at The Avatar before looking away, finding the sight unbearably painful. "No, I will stay up and watch him- "

Zuko smiled slightly. "No, I'll stay up and watch him. Go to sleep, Azula."

"You are exhausted."

"That's familiar. I'm used to staying up late. Just go to sleep, Azula. I'll wake you up if he comes back."

Azula trusted him and lowered herself onto the furs near The Avatar's body but kept distance between them. She felt betrayed by Aang fleeing after their marriage, but she knew it was exactly as he felt betrayed—because she had unintelligently told him the truth about Air, which she had known he was not ready for but had attempted it anyway. Why had everything crumbled so easily? He had been so mesmerizingly happy that he had returned her, and she was equally happy to see him, to tell him about Gyatso, but it was all gone. All that was left was absence and silence—a void reeking of hatred and bitterness, conveyed by the memory of Aang's vivid gray eyes condemning her with hostility that she was Sozin reborn.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pleaded for sleep to claim her swiftly to silence her painful thoughts; slumber came quickly, thankfully.

XxXxXxXxXxX

A rough hand jerked her shoulder with erratic movements, waking her. "Azula! Get up!"

Her eyes snapped open to see Zuko standing over her, face frantic and concerned, which caused her own concern rose swiftly. "What is it?"

"He's gone!"

Azula scrambled to her feet. "What? Who?"

"Aang! He's gone!"

Azula stared at the spot where The Avatar had been—empty. Her eyes roamed the area as she darted out of the tent, but she saw no sign of Aang or The Avatar. Most confusingly, Appa remained, resting, large chest swelling with each breath he took.

"Aang!" she called out, not caring for her volume or how desperate she sounded. "Aang! Avatar!"

Silence.

Dread consumed her as she whirled on Zuko, panicked. "Where is he? What happened? You were watching him!"

Zuko nodded, looking painfully disbelieving. "I was. I was watching him before he literally vanished. There was no sign—nothing. One moment he was here, the next moment he was gone. His body was here; then it was gone—just like that. I watched the whole thing as it happened!"

The commotion had awakened the others, who exited their tents, and Zuko explained what happened while Azula felt a rising shrill in her ears. Something horrible was going on—something had gone wrong! Had Vaatu done something? Or had Aang returned and done something to leave, not wanting to speak to her? Had Zuko misperceived what happened? How could The Avatar's body vanish instantly? She knew Aang was capable of it with his mastered chakras, but his chakras were not mastered—she knew it better than anyone but Aang himself and Pathik!

Panic shook her breathing as her mind rebelled at Aang abandoning her—like everyone else in her life had at one point or another. Aang had promised never to abandon her when they were on Ember Island, and he had reinforced that vow during the time since, over and over again. But now he was gone, and there was no sign; there was no message.

Had their marriage destroyed his trust and confidence in her?

Toph knelt on the ground, hands and feet probing, and her face was solemn. "I don't feel him anywhere, and there's no trail like last time to follow. I'm no help here."

Sokka picked up a stone and hurled it into the woods with violent intensity, face frustrated. "Son of a bitch! This is just what we need! We can't afford to have a vanishing Avatar again! This is just like when he disappeared before Sozin's Comet. Fucking Airbenders! Why does he always do this?"

"It will be alright," Katara soothed, though she sounded confused and disheartened.

Zuko shook his head. "No, this is different. I was watching him—my eyes were on him. I didn't even blink. He was there, tattoos glowing, and then he was gone. There was no reason; there was no hint; there was no alert; there was no warning; there was nothing. He just sat there before he disappeared like it was nothing; it was like the air swallowed him whole, folding over him in layers or something all at once. It happened before I even realized what was happening. He's gone."

Mother placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, but Azula barely felt it; all she felt was paranoia and dread.

Where was Aang?

XxXxXxXxXxX

Aang paced back and forth before the Tree of Time, heart racing, and he didn't know how long he had been pacing. All he knew was that he had arrived a long time ago before hesitating, which led to his pacing. What if the Tree couldn't help him? What if the Tree refused to answer? He knew he didn't actually have the power to threaten or destroy the Tree, which neutered all possible threats, but he needed the answers. If the Tree couldn't give him the answers he needed, who could? How could he save his race? How could he help them out of the limbo that he—he himself!—trapped them in?

The familiar area spoke to him on a transcendent level, and he felt Wan begin to stir at the bottomless depths of his soul when he stared at the two Tree's roots, out of which flowed the primordial energy in golden sap. Images assaulted his mind, memories of lifetimes past when Wan became the First when he defeated Vaatu.

It was the Tree of Time; It's roots fastened the Immortal and Mortal Realms together, and It was Vaatu's prison for many millennia before he escaped with Agni's help.

He hated it all! The Avatar deserved nothing but death!

He was ready and stomped into the Tree's core.

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if it wasn't for what you did," Aang began, glaring at the beautiful bark depicting images of memories from his life floating before him in every direction, layered on top of each other, showcasing events that even he had forgotten. "You ruined everything, and I'm here to collect on the debt you owe. You owe me, and I'll lock myself in the Void if you don't give me what I want."

"Aang," an unspeakably ancient voice whispered in his mind, and Aang fell to one of his knees at the power contained in the voice; it would destroy him without effort! "What do you want?"

"I want the truth! I want the world to be beautiful again and make sense! I want my race alive and well, and I want The Avatar to die! I want you to die because you're responsible for it all!"

"You resent my gift of Choice."

"Which was the choice you made!"

"You think I should not have given free will?"

Aang's fists clenched. "If it resulted in Air's murder, which it did, then no."

The Tree hummed beneath his feet—an intoxicating sensation that almost wiped away all his hatred and fury. "Did you come here out of your free will, Aang?"

He flinched before glaring with the force of his primordial spirit—but his spirit was still infantile next to the Tree. "Yes, but- "

"Then I should banish you now; I should take your free will from you. Rather than let you be, which is my nature, you demand I do, instead. You hate free will, but you can only hate free will because you have free will. Find the depths, Aang. What ails you?"

Aang snapped at the presumptuous question and felt the boundless energy inside him and tried to unleash it against the Tree, releasing himself with eternity; he poured it out of himself—out of his primordial spirit—in a concussive eruption that would have destroyed Earth's entire continent.

But nothing happened to the Tree.

"I hate you," he breathed, trembling, and the agony of his soul bled out of his eyes in tears. "I hate you so much. You did all of this evil."

"What ails you, Aang?"

"You know what!" Aang cried out, words raw and tearing out of his throat. "My race is extinct! The world is wrong and horrible! Nothing is at it should be! And it's your fault because you let The Avatar happen, and The Avatar is the greatest evil to ever happen!"

"Your triumph as Wan was only possible by your Ascension- "

"I don't care!"

"Do you wish Vaatu reigned for over nine-thousand years instead of you?"

Aang grunted and took a step back at the thought but shook his head, stubborn. "If it meant my race was here, yes. It'd be better."

"How do you know?"

"I just know," he snapped. "All that matters is Air. There's only imbalance now, and it's horrible! And it's my fault, which means it's your fault!"

"There will be Eternal Balance," the Tree whispered in assurance, and Aang resented how he felt soothed by the Tree's loving, gentle serenity. "You will evoke Eternal Balance, Aang. You will triumph."

Aang swallowed and collapsed to his knees, hands trembling against the bark. "I shouldn't have needed to 'triumph' in the first place? Just tell me why? Why, Tree of Time? Why did this happen? Why is my race gone? Why did you let me murder my love, home, family, and understanding by making me The Avatar?"

"Eternal Balance. There will be Eternal Balance, and everything will be good."

His jaw clenched. "I hate you so much. You don't care about anything. Just tell me—what happens to my race?"

"Air will return. There will be Eternal Balance when you resolve this conflict."

"Will Azula ruin us again like Sozin did?"

"No."

"Will she ruin us at all?"

"No."

Aang sneered and turned away in disgust, staring at the intricate bark of the Tree's core as his fury roiled in his heart; it was vicious and overwhelming. "I don't believe you. What would you know of 'ruin'? You're distant to everything. I wish I could be like you, distant to all of this horror and grief that's making me insane, but I can't, and I hate you for that, too—because you didn't make me like you. You didn't share that gift with me."

"You can choose to be like me if you wish, Aang. You have free will."

He squeezed his eyes shut, recalling Zuko's challenge to be more immortal—to start thinking like an immortal. "Raava and Vaatu bent your roots and fastened them to the Mortal Realm as they shaped its foundation, after which they created the Great Spirits. Yet you are not Raava and Vaatu; you are more. You are older; you are more powerful. You came out of the vastness of the Void of Eternity and created the Immortal Realm; you fastened Raava and Vaatu into being by shaping their corporeal forms out of the cosmic forces of Light and Darkness inside the Void of Eternity. You are not only Raava and Vaatu's father—you are their brother. This means you and I are on the same level somehow. But time for any mortal or immortal ends, inevitably at whatever point, except, of course, for Time itself—you. You are Time; you know the past, present, and future. But more than that, you live in the past, present, and future simultaneously. You outlast all and will forever. You and the Void will still be here when the Mortal and Immortal Realms die. And you're just going to do it all over again, aren't you? You would order your children-siblings to do your bidding and create all this evil, letting it happen, all over again! I can't be like you!"

"I have never ordered or forbidden Raava and Vaatu from anything, Aang. They wanted more; they wanted to create a new world. They created the Mortal Realm of their own volition. They shut themselves out of the Immortal Realm into the Void of Eternity, where they had a much better chance of survival if they fastened themselves together, lest they potentially be destroyed; they began their formation of the Mortal Realm and bound it to my roots, connecting both Realms forever. They created the Elemental Spirits and specifically shaped the Ocean and Moon Spirits after themselves; two spirits who are connected and rely on the other to survive."

Aang shook his head. "But you knew it would happen, wouldn't you? You knew all of this would happen! You knew that Vaatu would escape! You knew Air would die! You knew about the Great War! You knew about my evil!"

"There will be Eternal Balance, Aang."

He pointed a condemning finger at the bark. "But it was your fault it was broken in the first place!"

"It was broken because I gave free will to Raava and Vaatu, which reflected all immortals and mortals to arise after them."

"Which means it's your fault!"

"But Eternal Balance will be restored by free will. Free will broke Eternal Balance, but free will will restore Eternal Balance."

Aang staggered, bracing his hands on the bark beneath him as he realized the logic—it was unholy! "Which is a balance, in and of itself. And that's how you justify it. You wreaked evil across the Realms, and it's okay. You murdered Air, and it's okay. You let The Avatar come to be, and it's okay. You let so many lives die needlessly, and it's okay. You let Vaatu escape, and it's okay! Everything's okay as long as Eternal Balance is the goal!" He gnashed his teeth together. "I would destroy you right now if I had the power!"

"The Realms have been imbalanced for too long, Aang. Everything you observe as wrong are symptoms of the imbalance. But you will rectify the imbalance—with your free will. You will evoke Eternal Balance."

"But my race won't be there to see it," he whispered. "Nothing matters without them. I've barely hung onto my sanity since I awakened in that damnable time."

"Air will return—I see it."

Aang swallowed at the thought but shook his head. "Will Azula betray me?" he demanded, prepared for the answer. "Will she betray Air? Will she sabotage Air? Will she work to undermine me? Will she work to destroy Air from the inside out and finish what Sozin started? Will she turn my children against me?"

"No."

There was no relief like he thought at such an impossible reassurance. "But my children will still be ruined! Air's Children will be half-spawns who diminish of Air's touch with each passing generation! They'll be just like Samir! Air is gone!"

"Air's lineage is the strongest in the world, concentrated in you and the children you sire, and your children will produce children with those already of Air's lineages."

He shuddered at the thought of inbreeding, of his children marrying each other and producing inbred children—the only explanation! "I know! It's evil!"

"It is right."

"That doesn't even make sense!"

"It will."

"Nothing makes sense—because you made it this way!" A hysterical laugh exploded out of him. "Air's lineage may be strong in me—stronger than anything in the world, even more than Sozin's line—but it no longer means a damn thing when the woman I chose as Mother of Air, the one I made my wife, is of the second strongest lineage in the world! It's insane! My children will hate me for cursing them as abominations!"

"They will not."

Aang shuddered. "Why don't I believe you? I want to believe you—I want to—but I can't. I don't. Why?"

"For you do not understand Air's fall."

"Don't twist it!" he snarled, jumping to his feet in outrage. "Stop saying 'fall'! That's not what it was! They were slaughtered! They were murdered!"

"They fell- "

"You're just like Azula, filling my head with lies!" Aang hissed, pushing his hands against his ears with terrible force. "You're twisting it!"

But his efforts were useless because the Tree's words weren't in his ears; they were in his mind. And he truly wanted to listen, to understand the truth.

"What if you twisted it, Aang?"

Aang glared. "That's impossible. This is Air—my race! I know them better than anyone!"

"You know them better than anyone in your time- "

"And who's responsible for that?" he sneered.

"- but you lived twelve years with them, and those twelve years were not with a mature perception and understanding. You understood very little about your race."

Aang grit his teeth. "I know I'm not like Gyatso—you don't have to remind me. I'm going to change that—I want to learn everything there is to know about my race, from the beginning to the end. And I'm going to do that. I'm going to save them."

He had to get them out of limbo and into the Gardens, at least! It was the least he could do! Maybe that was what held him back; maybe he had always known, deep down, that his race's last generation, those Air Nomads he loved and cherished, were trapped in limbo, deprived of the Gardens.

"You will save Air through your progeny- "

"That's not what I mean!" he interrupted, passion burning inside. "I don't care about my children; I care about my race. I must atone for my crimes; I must atone for my existence that destroyed them. And they're stuck in limbo now because of me—because Indra's been compromised by the Attack, which only happened because of me. Tell me how I can save them!"

"By concentrating your power where you wish it."

He scoffed. "Where I wish to concentrate my power is 109 years ago to save them as a whole! I need them out of limbo."

"You must find Indra and restore her."

Aang didn't respond, frozen in place as a miracle took shape in his mind. "I do wish to concentrate my power 109 years to save them as a whole," he whispered. "And I can do that, can't I? You live in the past, present, and future simultaneously, and that's because of your power. Right now, you live in the past, but I'm only in the present, but if I tapped into your power, I would live in the past, too. I could go back."

"You would live only in the past; you cannot live across Time as I do because I am Time."

"But it's possible," he pointed out. "Can I go back? Can I go back to that day?"

"If you will it."

The ancient words floated in the air in the trunk, and Aang staggered behind their weight; he braced himself against the bark. Was it possible? If he went back to that day, could he save his race? Could he stop the Great War before it ever began? He could save Gyatso, save the Air Nomads, his race, and save all of the Four Nations from the strife and horror begotten by Sozin and Vaatu; he could save his younger self and, thus, himself from a century of sleep! He could save everyone from ever being touched by evil! And he didn't need to stop there! He could go back and back, fixing everything in every generation to ever live! He could convince Roku to kill Sozin or kill him himself; he could force Kyoshi to see the truth of the world; he could smite Kuruk out of his incompetent laziness; he could go back and back—all the way to Wan! He could go back and kill Wan to prevent The Avatar from ever being born.

The possibilities were endless and, feeling breathless and overwhelmed, Aang bowed his head and controlled his breathing.

"Are you lying to me?" he whispered, afraid that it was all a lie.

"I do not lie, Aang."

"Can I really go back?"

"If you will it."

Aang sunk to his knees as hope consumed him—it was wonderful! "This is a miracle," he whispered. "I can save them—I'm going to!"

"You must consider- "

Aang's eyes burst with determination. Zuko had told him to start thinking like an immortal, and Aang chose to follow his advice—he would be an immortal! "I've already considered everything. I have free will, and you gave me my free will. I choose, out of my own free will, to use my free will to tap into your power. Will you stop me?"

"I can stop you, but I will not," the Tree replied. "I do not stop your free will. Do as you will, Aang."

Aang almost loved the Tree in that moment—absurd! "How do I do it? Tell me."

"Concentrate your power where you wish," the Tree divulged, tone not changing at all. "Concentrate into me and expand outward, collecting your body, and visualizing when you want to be. Then you will appear."

He did fall in love with the Tree, realizing what was happening. The Tree would not fight the rape of It's essence so he could go back and change the past, which the Tree already permitted and, thus, loved. The Tree loved him enough to let him go and change the past; It gave to him a precious gift of Choice, as It had already tried to explain. It recognized his free will and relinquished control and would not prevent him from his desire. The Tree was willing to sacrifice the history It permitted, the one that already happened, to make way for a changed history authored by Aang, giving birth to a new one, which would save Air! The Tree was giving to him the greatest power across the Realms—access and instruction to It's power, the ability to change something already decreed and make it better. The Tree left things to his intelligence, will, and decision-making; It would not interfere in his journey; It respected his choices.

"Thank you," Aang trembled, tears spilling out of his cheeks. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Aang."

He sat instantly and meditated, shutting his eyes and following the Tree's vague instructions. However, he felt success as it was impossibly easy to concentrate into the Tree—because part of the Tree was already inside him, connected, due to Wan drinking the Tree's sap eons ago during the Ascension. The cosmic energy swarmed him with an overwhelming rush—so far beyond The Avatar State.

He was returning home.

XxXxXxXxXxX

I hope that you all enjoyed it. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I'd really appreciate it!

**Aang goes to the Immortal Realm, speaks with Roku, and visits Koh. He is rigid and compressing himself tighter and tighter, narrowing his gaze and mind, focused on one thing only. Unfortunately, he has more to do before he gets out of that.

**Azula and the others discuss the maps that Ozai left behind in the camp, unable to recognize any of the landmarks on them. Then she talks to Mai and Ty Lee for the first time, and she makes it clear that she has no interest in forgiving them or making a new friendship—she has much bigger things on her mind. The only thing she's willing to do is look past them and ignore them as they stick around.

**Aang goes to the boundary of the Gardens of the Dead and laments of his failures to his race, who he sees as a collective in the distance. However, he realizes that, since Azula said she saw airbending children in her limbo, some of his race, the last generation—his generation—was trapped in limbo. He puts the pieces together and hates himself even more.

**Toph finds Aang meditating in a mountain and notifies the others, who surmise quickly he is in the Immortal Realm. Rather than leave him there, they decide to bring his body back so they can watch over him. After bringing his body back and much strong-arm persuasion, Azula agrees to teach Katara, Zuko, Toph, and Ursa how to master their chakras, walking them through it as they wait for Aang to return. She warns the others as best she can, but they want to learn so they can help Aang as they need to.

**Azula finally discusses things with Ursa. I thought that it was finally time for them to resolve their differences and I'm happy with how it came out. When writing it, I realized something. If Ursa had been able to take at least one child with her, most people would assume that she would have chosen Zuko, but I disagree. I think that Azula needed her mother most, not Zuko, and I think that Ursa would have realized that. Azula was the one who broke under Ozai without Ursa, not Zuko; he found his way through Iroh's help and rebelled openly against Ozai, standing strong. Zuko's strength of will was stronger than Azula's, and even though that's a gross simplification, it rings true. Although, I will admit that if Zuko hadn't been exiled and scarred, he would have probably turned out the same as his father; honestly, his banishment was the best thing that could have happened to him.

**Zuko, Katara, Toph, and Ursa begin to master their chakras just as Azula had done. I hope that their blockages seemed realistic, and I truly don't think that Ursa is capable of mastering even one chakra right now where things are with where she's at. She can never master one of her chakras until she actually confronts Ozai, but because she never did, because she actively refused to for years after her return to the Caldera, she's incapable of it. But the others are capable of it, which Azula is realizing slowly as things progress. Overall, I'm happy with how that all turned out.

**Shout out to gaara king of the sand for the idea of Aang going back in time thanks to the Tree of Time. I thought it was great; I loved the idea—it has incalculable potential. The Tree of Time is the creator of the Immortal realm; he is the incarnation of Time itself and is powerful-beyond-powerful; he is the father of Raava and Vaatu, in essence. I just one to clear something up: Raava and Vaatu are clear representations of the Taoism religion of Yin and Yang – just like the Moon and Ocean Spirits are. So, I reckoned that Raava and Vaatu, who are the creators of the Great Spirits, which includes the Elementals, sought to create two spirits that are similar to them – the Ocean and Moon. The fact that the Ocean and Moon chose the form of black and white Koi Fish when giving up their immortality is just coincidence, I suppose.

Next chapters will explore Aang being in the past, which includes his body, which vanished before Zuko's stunned eyes, throwing the Gaang into mayhem as they try to figure out what happened.

Well, I think that is everything. I hope that you all enjoyed it, and I would really appreciate it if you left a review to tell me what you thought about it.

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