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

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Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender

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Time drifted endlessly, but his body was prohibited from doing the same—as it naturally should. He had long since stopped fighting, something he once thought impossible, but while his spirit, blessed by Agni himself, burned with the fury of a lifetime, his body was decrepit—stationary. His body moved, certainly, but it was only by the constant sway of the ocean's waves—a torment that reminded him tantalizingly of what he once was capable of, for there were very few who could ever stand against him.

If his plan had succeeded, no one could stand against him, not even The Avatar, who might have lived an entire life and been reborn for all he knew by now—he had no concept of time. At the beginning, he had tried desperately to keep track, but it was impossible with the torture subjected to his body, which inflamed his mind with panic, hysteria, and rebellion every time. He knew the difference between Night and Day better than any man to ever live, for he lived under both—in the shadows and the light. But whether Night or Day, his torment remained. Nothing changed it. It was a constant like Night and Day themselves, part of the new cycle of the world.

He had long since stopped screaming, whether in agony or as a call for help. He had even given up on Agni rescuing him from his unnatural evil imprisonment! At first, he had called out to Agni daily when he had the chance, believing that Agni would rescue him from his unjust torment—but Agni never answered, imposing his torment by allowing it.

The horror drowned him—like the water did. It was clear that Agni approved of his imprisonment, believing that he deserved to be punished for glorifying Fire for all-time. It was a painful truth that only made sense after a lifetime of torture. His mind broke, allowing the truth to slip through like the water into his lungs. Had everything he ever believed been wrong? Had all his striving been for naught? Had his temerity burned so bright that even Agni himself could no longer look at him? Why had nothing gone right in the end? Why had his momentum, which had been growing, expanding, and swelling in perfect rhythm for years, disappeared at the most critical moment of his life? Why had all his cunning, intelligent plans faded like smoke when they were implemented? His memory and will never faltered, but why did his strategy falter when it never had before, certainly not the impossible extent that it did? Why did despair and anguish ravish him when it never did before? Why did horror and grief steal what breaths he had left when the water did not drown him? Why did nothing make sense? Why did things happen as they did? Why did they have to happen? Why did his assured victory crumple into a swift and overwhelming humiliation when he had achieved the ultimate glory?

His revolution was stolen from him. He had tried to evoke a new age in the world—a better age!—that reflected the natural order more accurately and honestly, but it was denied!

Fire taught that Power was the ultimate pursuit, worshipping it, embodied in the ancient traditions passed down from all fathers to their sons and mothers to their daughters. Fire taught that Power was so powerful that it superseded the Seasons, for no matter the season of the world, Power reigned supreme—and those who touched Power reigned supreme. Even in the Winter, a man of Power reigned supreme. Even in the Fall, a man of Power reigned supreme. Even in the Spring, a man of Power reigned supreme. There was never a point in which Power was impacted, swayed from its dominance. Fire taught that once Power was seized, you had to keep holding on until you burned. For the few men who managed to reach the glory of burning in Power's flame, they became the greatest men to ever walk the world—the men of renown, worthy of all the songs and poems sung. It was the aspiration to which he aspired—as all men do.

And he had succeeded.

He had touched Power briefly, catching the wisps of its radiance and holding them in his hands—until Power pulled away from him. It betrayed him. He had hung on, but Power turned its back on him and let something else pull him down into darkness and agony. At first, he hated Power and screamed his displeasure and hatred, blaming Power for choosing someone else as its devotee, but he realized in time that Power was not the root; it went deeper than Power. Fire taught that Power was supreme and Agni was the foremost embodiment of Power, but it was a terrifying realization to understand that Fire was wrong.

Power was not the king but the prince, subservient to the king, subservient to something—someone—greater and more primal. No, Power was not the root; Power was actually the stem sprouting out of the ground. But what of the roots? What made Power? What provoked Power? What spawned Power? What birthed Power? What was Power's source? Where did it come from? It did not appear randomly; it had a source—it had to! It was the law of the world, the rhythm to which all things flowed.

It became clear—Power's source was The Avatar, who made Power possible and channeled it into being. If he followed the chain to its first link, the only explanation was The Avatar, who chained everything in existence unto himself and wrapped everyone in his wielded chains—the ultimate tyrant!

The Avatar was responsible for his humiliation and unjust torment.

Zhao the Moon-Slayer! Zhao the Invincible! Zhao the Conqueror!

What were his titles next to The Avatar's grandeur? His life's crowning achievement lasted for the barest moment, long enough to only begin—begin!—to bask in before it was ripped away with monstrous strength. It was a cruelty beyond any other, for The Avatar had given him hope and joy in letting him achieve eminence before knocking him from eminence. It was obvious that The Avatar could have stopped him at any time he chose, but in his cruel regard, decided to give him the brief taste of glory before waving his glowing hand to restore his tyranny—as he always could. He thought that he walked to his own rhythm, pursuing his own objectives, but there were invisible but present strings all over his body and imbedded in his mind rising into the sky, where The Avatar's chains wrapped around the world. Nothing was possible without The Avatar's willing, which meant that The Avatar wanted the Moon to die for but a moment to give him the ultimate cruelty of knowing victory's embrace before raping him in defeat.

The Avatar slept during the Great War for a century simply so he could have the glory of impossible-for-anyone-else victory! It was obvious to him that The Avatar must have ended the Great War, for defeat was not possible for The Avatar, even at such a delicate age. If The Avatar thought Fire Lord Sozin was so insignificant that he slept for a century, unconcerned, what did he think of Fire Lord Ozai? The Avatar must not have even wasted a thought on Fire Lord Ozai and killed him when he felt like it, pulling him from eminence as easily as he did to everyone he disliked.

It was Zhao's fate, which he knew that many other men suffered—for The Avatar was the ultimate tyrant! It was clear that The Avatar wanted legends only for himself; he would tolerate no legends made by other men. The Avatar replaced Fire Lord Sozin's conquest with his miraculous return, overshadowing it by making the Great War's nature all about himself, making its essence his absence rather than Fire Lord Sozin's premier power and will; The Avatar cast Fire Lord Azulon to extinction and replaced all the hard-fought victories with surrender and abandonment; and The Avatar opened the door to renown, providing Zhao a glimpse of its beauty and legend, before slamming it in his face and yanking him to torpor, forever.

In those brief moments The Avatar cruelly graced him with Power, he saw everything—all the possibilities. Tales would have been told for countless generations of his magnificence, of his power that was great enough to slay the Moon by darkening it forever—an achievement that catapulted him to stand alongside the greatest men, who achieved greatness in spite of The Avatar's tyranny, to ever walk the world! His name would be uttered in the same breath as Fire Lord Sozin's, equaling the great devastation against Fire's enemies! His seed would rise to the Dragon's Throne, wed to one of Sozin's heirs in Princess Azula, who would undoubtedly grow and mature into a stunning beauty, for he had seen all the notable evidence and signs. His unthinkable deed would bolster his blood and name, making him a worthy match to Princess Azula in which no one would ever challenge him as Fire Lord—or the heirs he had by Princess Azula—and say that Prince Zuko deserved the Dragon's Throne instead.

It was all within his grasp, grazing his fingertips, before it vanished, seized by The Avatar, who stole his future and replaced it with torment—but not death, for his cruelty was prodigious.

When The Avatar pulled him into the inky darkness of the ocean, Zhao thought death awaited him, but it was not to be. There was isolation—but no release. There was agony—but no waning. There was emptiness—but no dissolution. There was darkness—but too much light.

His prison was an unholy abomination that could only be conceived by divinity—by The Avatar.

When he ascended from the darkest, deepest depths of the ocean, he thought Agni rescued him when he saw his great light. But he had seen Agni every damned day since he rose out of the waves, and Agni never rescued him. No, there was no rescue—there was no release for his trapped body, forced multiple times a day, immersed in the sand on a small speck of land, to drown. When the tides came, he could not move away; his body was stuck in the sand. Even using his firebending did not free him or stop the water. He could do nothing but let the water wash over him in a wave, crashing into him. The water filled his lungs and drowned him, submerging him in agony and panic and dimming his mind, taking him to the brink of death—but right when he thought the relieving release of death would come, the water would recede, and he coughed out the water drowning him, clinging to life, unfortunately.

Every single time.

Even having no food or proper drink in what might be decades did not kill him, for at Night, the Moon shone on him, mocking him and nourishing his body in equal measure. The Ocean and Moon would never let him die, forcing upon him eternal torment, an unholy suffering, as the world continued on without him, dreams of conquest washed away by the ocean waves daily—there was little sand left of the world he once imagined.

All because of The Avatar.

He wanted vengeance, but what vengeance was there? He wanted revival, but how could he obtain it when Death encircled him? He wanted release, but how could he when his will was smothered? He wanted freedom, but how could he when he was enslaved? He wanted Power, but how could he when The Avatar owned it and dispensed it to whom he pleased? He wanted belief, but how could he when he doubted? There was only his torment and agony, fracturing his mind, which not even the damned Moon could fix with its radiant shine. There was only his maddening impotence forced on him by The Avatar, who wrapped him in Power's chains, knowing he could never break free—because Power would never be his to command.

It was a mockery above mockeries.

He wanted to rip The Avatar's flesh from his bones! He wanted to gouge out The Avatar's eyes and crush them! He wanted to blacken The Avatar's innards! He wanted to devastate The Avatar physically and mentally! He wanted The Avatar scorched! He wanted The Avatar to scream in pain with every movement! He wanted The Avatar to weep and beg for death! He wanted The Avatar to be found in his newest lifetime, nothing more than a baby, and smashed against the rocks, brains bashed in, spraying everywhere! He wanted it for all The Avatar's lifetimes! He wanted The Avatar to be nothing more than a forgotten legend! He wanted The Avatar gone forever!

But all his wishes were for naught—because he was for naught. He was nothing now, least of all an Admiral; he was a forgotten man, tortured slowly to die even slower. There would be no revenge against The Avatar—how could he obtain it, trapped as he was? There would be no triumphant return from his purgatory, hailed a hero for rising against the ultimate tyrant; there would be no adulation for his boldness and ferocity, under which all his enemies were wasted; there would be no liberation to stare into The Avatar's eyes and condemn him for the unjust horror he was; and there would be no reclaiming everything that was stolen from him upon his crushing, unthinkable, humiliating defeat.

What could he do but wait for his death, as he had done for so long? He wanted to breathe again and taste the sweetness of the air, but all the air he had breathed for so long was lifeless, tainted by his enslavement.

He wanted his freedom, denied to him by The Avatar!

"You must have enraged my children unlike any other to be imprisoned so cruelly like this by them."

Zhao gasped at the abrupt change, which shifted everything, smashing on top of him so differently from the waters. It was an intense, powerful chill that descended over him while shadows seemed to come alive under the Moon's light, rising and rising like a wall, obstructing any of the radiant hues. And so shocking, the waters around him receded, slipping away as the shadows replaced them.

He was in darkness, unable to see anything; it was the first novelty he had experienced since being imprisoned.

"What is this?" he yelled, voice hoarse and ragged. "Avatar, face me! I know it's you! You fucking coward! Show your evil face!"

"What would you do to see The Avatar's face?" a voice asked, slithering into his ears as a viper, and Zhao shivered at the amount of power those few words contained. It would be a power that would destroy The Avatar! "What would you do to see him suffer? What would you sacrifice to see him beaten and broken?"

Zhao gasped in honest pleasure, for the power buzzed over him, igniting his senses, making him believe. "Anything!"

"Would you die?"

"Not until he does!"

"Are you trustworthy?"

He looked around, eyes darting to and fro, trying to glimpse the source of the voice, but there was nothing but the stifling, overwhelming darkness. "Who are you?"

"You will not earn my name until you earn my trust."

"I'm trustworthy!" Zhao cried out, vehement. "If you let me destroy The Avatar- "

"I will destroy The Avatar, no one else. Never think otherwise. Only I can destroy him, for I am his equal—and, thus, superior."

"If you let me help you destroy The Avatar, I'll be your trusted soldier forever—or as long as I have breaths to breathe."

"You have not earned my trust, but you have earned my time. Now earn my trust, mortal."

Zhao's eyes bulged in terrified awe as within the darkness a shape began to emerge, glowing with ominous energy, swirls of purple energy coiling through inky darkness, giving a distinct ancient bearing as wisps of unholy darkness emanated off his visitor in radiance.

"I will never betray you," he said after several moments of trying to orient himself; he was able to think easier and let the words flow by pretending to speak to Fire Lord Sozin himself. "I don't know what betrayal is; it contradicts my nature. I have seen it in others, but you will never find it in me. I don't know who you are, but you are a spirit capable of obstructing the Moon's light and making the Ocean's waters recede. I see that only you can face The Avatar and survive his tyranny; I see that Power answers to you as it does to The Avatar; I see that you don't wear masks, adorned by a man's body, and confuse those you meet like The Avatar does; I see that you are true and honest; and I see that you will triumph over The Avatar. I want to help; I want to witness the greatness of your renown that will smite The Avatar; I want to celebrate with you and those you consider worthy of you; I want to live in a world without his grime; I want to hunt him down in his next life for you and rip his limbs from his infant body, serving you as your honorable, dependable soldier; and I want to do it again and again for all the years of my life until my death comes."

The spirit was quiet before an intense humming buzzed in the air. "What is your name?"

"Zhao."

"Are you trustworthy, Zhao?"

He almost fainted in amazement when he found himself able to nod his head—the first luxury he had experienced in so long! "Yes."

"What is the biggest secret you ever carried, whether yours or someone else's?"

His eyes narrowed. "That's a trick. You want me to prove that I'm untrustworthy by spilling a secret I swore to never tell. That won't work on me."

The spirit seemed impressed. "Well done. But now that I see your intelligence, let me see your indulgence—let me see what you are willing to do for me. Tell me the biggest secret you ever carried, whether yours or someone else's."

Zhao was quiet for several moments, debating his options before realizing nothing worse could happen to him if he told the biggest secret he knew. The worst thing, literally, would be nothing happening, returning him to his imposed fate by The Avatar. His lips stretched in triumph, knowing that, unlike most, he could impress the mighty spirit. "I learned the location of the Ocean and Moon's forms in this world after they surrendered their immortality, an ancient secret that nobody but me, a giant owl, and The Avatar ever knew."

Silence.

Suddenly, the darkness ripped into him, and he screamed as newfound pain ravished him, the unbearable chill growing more apparent. "You dare lie to me? I am ancient!" the voice hissed with an insistency that made him realize swiftly that there was an urgency there.

Even something frantic and possessive born of hopeful eagerness.

"No!" he cried out. "I'm not lying!"

"How could a mortal know such a thing that Tui and La's siblings do not?" The pressure intensified, and darkness seeped into his heart, curling around, and beginning to squeeze—it was terrifying. "If you know it, someone else does! Who? Who told you?"

"In a desert, in the Earth Kingdom, there was an enormous library filled with knowledge- "

The spirit seemed aggravated. "Of course, he knows. I wonder what else he has hidden from me."

Zhao didn't know who 'he' was but suspected it was the giant owl, owner of that library. However, he knew he needed to be the spirit's source of the information; he needed to be useful! He needed to be necessary! "I will tell it to you!" he exclaimed.

The darkness vanished, making him gasp in relief. "My name is Vaatu. You just made the best decision of your life."

"You need this knowledge?"

Vaatu seemed excited. "I do. There is nothing I will deny you but slaying The Avatar or being my vessel in exchange for it. What do you want, Zhao?"

Zhao didn't even need to think about it. "I want my freedom and to see The Avatar die—that's all I want."

"Will you consider a counteroffer?" Vaatu asked, voice like silk, enticing.

"Of course, Mighty Vaatu," he acquiesced. "But I will never stay here."

Vaatu laughed, the sound like thunder; it made him jump in surprise, taken aback. "I would not think to insult you so. I am not The Avatar, Zhao."

Zhao swallowed, realizing faintly that this was his opportunity to free himself; he had to play it right! "Of course. What is your counteroffer?"

"In exchange for this precious, rare knowledge, I will free you, but I want you to be an ally and join me and fight alongside my vessel, for you are worthy. I need worthy allies against The Avatar. Will you be my ally?"

He frowned. "I thought I implied that already."

Vaatu seemed to purr. "I like you, Zhao, and I like the knowledge you hold even more."

Zhao bowed his head to Vaatu. "I agree to your terms, Vaatu."

The moment when the words left his lips, darkness swallowed him whole, and Zhao felt absolute ice begin to form in the very blood in his body, the frigid feel enlightening. Then he felt the glorious feel of grass under his feet, and he leaned down, clenching his scarred fists into the lush, green substance.

"Where are my children, Zhao?"

He blinked, stunned, realizing what Vaatu suggested. "You are the Ocean and Moon's father?"

"Yes. The Avatar stole them from me. Where are they?"

Zhao never knew The Avatar's tyranny was so foul, but he was unsurprised. "In the Northern Water Tribe, in a place named the Spirit Oasis. The Spirit Oasis has been declared sacred by the Waterbenders, none willing to ever enter save for their royal family of peasants. In the center of the Spirit Oasis, in a pond of Spirit Water, the Moon and Ocean circle each other; their mortal forms are Koi Fish, one black and the other white."

Vaatu radiated with pleasure, making Zhao feel alive; it was a feeling unlike any other one he had ever experienced. "You proved yourself a friend today, Zhao. You have my regard forever. Unlike Wan Shi Tong, you are willing to be an ally. I will not forget what you have done for me today."

Before he could respond, Zhao was swallowed by shadows once more, and when the darkness faded, Zhao felt his features widen in disbelief.

A large, bubbling, circular river of lava surrounded two men—a broad one-armed man with his back to him, while the other was a clear Earth Kingsman, depicted by his dark green robes. But the river of lava was not only a river in the earth; it was a river in the air, for it floated into the Earth Kingsman's hands, as if tethered to his will. But as Zhao stared, stunned, mesmerized by the impossible sight, the lava remained, swirling and rotating, under the will of the Earth Kingsman. It was not a trick; it was not a ruse by Vaatu of the impossible.

It was real.

"Meet our newest ally," Vaatu announced.

The Earth Kingsman turned first, revealing to Zhao an ugly, unattractive face, distended by gruesome scars slashed through his face—along with the obvious signs of inbreeding in his appearance. But his attention switched swiftly to the one-armed man, who spun around-

Fire Lord Ozai!

Zhao inhaled sharply, astonished at the familiar face, despite its thick beard and different style of hair—it was him! His body started the reflex to bow. "Fire Lord Ozai- "

"You are right, Zhao," Vaatu interrupted, darkness chilling his body in warning, and Zhao didn't understand. That was Fire Lord Ozai! He was returned to his lord, which was a sign to celebrate! Clearly, Vaatu wielded Power more than The Avatar did! "Not even the former Fire Lord was master of such an obscure, rare art."

Zhao blinked, confused, and he glanced at Fire Lord Ozai, trying to understand, particularly how Fire Lord Ozai had lost an arm—lost an arm!—but Fire Lord Ozai said nothing, glaring at him imperially, powerful golden eyes gleaming with a blatant warning that Zhao understood—discretion was paramount, for whatever reason. The Earth Kingsman, an ally, was not a true ally, only a convenient one who must not discover the truth of Fire Lord Ozai's identity, likely due to being born an Earth Kingsman, incapable of rationality and greatness.

"Of course," he agreed, trying not to space his words too much to seem suspicious, but he needed to ensure no mistake was made. "I heard stories of Fire Lord Ozai from my days in the Fire Nation. Fire Lord Ozai would kill for such a skill. Lavabending is thought a myth only accessible to Agni."

Fire Lord Ozai's lips twitched slightly while the Earth Kingsman looked between them for a moment before nodding; he seemed convinced of Zhao's performance. "It is an earthbending skill, not firebending. You look familiar with firebending."

Zhao blinked back his shock at the truth of lavabending, which Fire Lord Ozai did not correct! Instead, he recognized the accusation against him and knew his instincts about the Earth Kingsman were correct; he was but a convenient ally of Fire Lord Ozai, not trusted with secrets or intelligence—only a tool. In response, Zhao raised his flaming hand in confirmation. "Firebender. My name is Zhao, and Mighty Vaatu freed me from my prison. You are?"

The Earth Kingsman stared at him before glancing at Vaatu and bowing his head. "Chin V, descended from the Conqueror."

"A noble lineage," Fire Lord Ozai finally commented, and Zhao didn't imagine the flash of mockery in Fire Lord Ozai's golden eyes.

After all, what was Chin V's lineage next to Fire Lord Ozai's lineage, descended from Sozin? It was the lineage Zhao was going to marry into through Princess Azula!

However, to keep the alliance, Zhao inclined his head. "I commend you," he praised. "The Conqueror was a great man. May you fulfill his greatness, Chin V, and make him proud."

"I will," Chin V vowed with an admirable conviction, but his dark green eyes flashed. "No one will stand in my way."

Zhao scoffed. "Don't think I will. I want The Avatar destroyed forever. If you help Mighty Vaatu achieve it, you will be greater than your ancestor, and I will proclaim it so—so long as The Avatar is never alive to proclaim his tyranny and brandish his chains."

Respect finally entered Chin V's face. "A wise man. Vaatu only finds the best. The fact you are here confirms your greatness. May all our greatness exceed The Avatar's greatness."

"It will," Fire Lord Ozai promised, voice low and certain. "Mastering lavabending is one advantage I must possess over him. My earthbending will be as powerful as my firebending."

At the look on Fire Lord Ozai's face, Zhao realized the truth that another Avatar was rising out of the ashes of Sozin's line, which The Avatar had clearly castrated—what else was Fire Lord Ozai's missing arm but a sign of castration? Fire Lord Ozai would herald a new age of supremacy as the new Avatar, smiting The Avatar with Mighty Vaatu's help—and all allied with him. Zhao would affirm his loyalty forever! After all, how could The Avatar stand against Fire Lord Ozai when Fire Lord Ozai became the new Avatar? But Zhao knew, instinctively, that The Avatar was greater somehow, for Power answered to him. If he was to help Fire Lord Ozai—as he would forever!—he had to warn him of the dangers.

But because they were looking up at The Avatar to meet him in challenge, it was a more challenging, rigorous journey, while The Avatar had to peer down at them. Their journey gave them the advantage against The Avatar, who could not comprehend an equal—or superior—as The Avatar had been supreme since the world was born. The Avatar was limited by a pursuit of vision, incapable of comprehending and perceiving a foe rising to his level, amassing the power, experience, and strength associated with all levels, not only the top level—The Avatar's only experience and understanding. However, they—Mighty Vaatu, Fire Lord Ozai, Zhao, and Chin V—possessed a strident will, perceiving the possibilities while The Avatar could not.

It was their victory!

"It will be," Chin V confirmed, dark eyes peering at Fire Lord Ozai for several long moments; something flashed over his face before a sharp smile glinted in the lava's light before the lava vanished. "Think on my lesson and prepare yourself. You are not ready for lava yet, but the time is nigh."

Fire Lord Ozai nodded while Chin V spun around and vanished into one of the adjacent tunnels, leaving him alone with Fire Lord Ozai, to whom Zhao kneeled immediately. "My lord."

However, harsh footsteps resounded before a hand wrapped around his throat with relentless strength, connected to reviling golden eyes, burning with contempt. "You dare?" Fire Lord Ozai hissed with fierce power, freezing him like Vaatu did. "I should rip your head from your shoulders! You have the gall to show yourself before me after your colossal failure? Your failure culminated in The Avatar's triumph!"

It was as he had feared and known—The Avatar had ended the Great War and ruined Fire Lord Ozai, whose one-armed state was the evidence.

Fire Lord Ozai's grip tightened, causing Zhao to gasp and gag, trying to breathe—but he didn't dare fight, not against his lord. "You vowed the North's extinction but gave Fire theirs because your failure culminated in a eunuch sitting on the Dragon's Throne now." Fire Lord's sneering, furious face came closer. "My son."

Zhao gasped, trying to breathe, but wasn't able to. He glanced at Vaatu, who remained an amused bystander. "My lord," he choked out, vision dimming as the furious eyes of Fire Lord Ozai crucified him.

"Enough," Vaatu ordered, and after several seconds, Fire Lord Ozai dropped Zhao, who fell to his knees in a heap of exhaustion. "He gave us the location of the Ocean and Moon; we owe him our regard because of it. His knowledge bridges the chasm in which we have been trapped. We know where Tui and La are now. We will secure another alliance against The Avatar, strengthening our arsenal of power."

Silence.

Fire Lord Ozai stared at him, golden eyes roaming his face for confirmation. "You reduced the distance between us and The Avatar."

Zhao inclined his head, ignoring the instinct to rub his throat. "Yes, my lord."

"You have always been a worthwhile servant, Zhao," Fire Lord Ozai murmured. "But with this dedication, you have become more. Now we secure more Elementals- "

"Not yet," Vaatu interrupted. "We will not go to the North now."

"We must go now!" Fire Lord Ozai snarled, face twisting and furious—and determined. Golden eyes glared at Vaatu with a fearlessness that Zhao knew would benefit them all when it came time to face The Avatar's glowing judgment. "We know their location! They can heal me!"

"No," Vaatu snapped with a chilling intensity. "Not yet. We must wait- "

"We must heal me!"

Zhao tried not to stare at the stub of Fire Lord Ozai's missing arm while Vaatu's shadows darkened if it was possible. "We must be wise! We cannot take a misstep, not now. I know my children—Tui and La are furious since I freed Zhao from his prison that they enforced on him."

"With The Avatar's blessing," Zhao added darkly.

"And his judgment," Vaatu added. "Not even I could persuade them to join us now. There is nothing I can offer them now that would entice them to overlook Zhao's freedom, specifically my role in enabling it. We must wait for their ire to fade. Then we will go to the North."

Fire Lord Ozai's lone fist clenched, face twisting. "And in the meantime?"

"We continue as we have. You continue your healing sessions with Hama and mastering earthbending and learning waterbending. We continue building our army, which we will march on the North when ready. We must destroy them and rob The Avatar of his hope. He allowed his race's murder and survived, but he will break upon realizing he allowed another race's demise—as is his pattern."

Zhao's face twisted in a sneer, understanding. "The virtuous tyrant, more in love with his enemies than friends."

"And if there are survivors of the attack, they will blame The Avatar for failing to rescue them, perceiving his failure as an echo of his rampage at Ba Sing Se. Thus, he is the destroyer of all races. He destroyed his race by allowing their slaughter; he destroyed Earth and reduced their population by its most populated city—the most populated in the world; he will destroy Water by failing to stop us. All that will remain is Fire, who will be reduced by Jet's plague, which The Avatar will also fail to stop. He is the destroyer of all races—Air, Earth, Water, and Fire. When he realizes it, he will be so demoralized and stricken, of which we will take advantage and annihilate him, that he will never have the conviction to stop us."

A tense silence concluded while Zhao tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Fire Lord Ozai was not surprised, shocked, or infuriated by Mighty Vaatu's plan to destroy Fire.

"This is our historic mission, and you ask that I remain stricken by The Avatar's tyranny?" Fire Lord Ozai asked softly, staring at Vaatu, but his voice was like a lash. "It has been over three months since he robbed my mobility from me, deprived me of a quarter of my offensive and defensive bending output. I have waited with patience for you to arrive at a solution to heal me, and the solution is as bright now as Agni. Yet, you refuse to do right by me as I have ceaselessly done right by you. Why do you doubt my commitment? Why do you doubt my striving? Why do you doubt my will? Why do you doubt my rebelliousness?"

Vaatu hummed. "I doubt nothing about you but your mortal stature, but that will only be allayed when we bond forever. I have granted you all I can now. I gathered Hama for you, granting you simultaneously a healer and a master—one who will teach to you bloodbending. I gathered your exiled nobles who fled from your son's rule and brought them here while you were too weak to go out and find them. Now I have gathered one of your old loyalists, who gave us both Tui and La's location, which will heal you and increase our capabilities plentifully. Who liberated you from the torpor in which you were cast by The Avatar and your own son? Who awakened what The Avatar silenced within you? Who returned to you strength, ambition, and ability and offered you glory beyond any man as my vessel? Who waited for you as you trained and regained what The Avatar stole from you? And who waits still for your needed mastery in all areas to destroy The Avatar? Why do you doubt me, Ozai? Never have I done for a mortal as much as I have done for you. The Realms would be ours already if you were more capable. You are the reason why we have not succeeded yet, not me."

Fire Lord Ozai was quiet, golden eyes boring into Vaatu before he scoffed and looked away. "We rely on each other; there is not one of us without the other—not if we are to succeed. Success is only possible with the both of us."

"Yes," Vaatu confirmed, voice soft like silk but powerful like thunder simultaneously.

"I will return your patience with my own," Fire Lord Ozai promised, nodding his head. "We will continue building the army and integrating my nobles with Chin V's numerous kinsmen. Our army will be extraordinary, striking terror and incompetence in the heart of every man who opposes us—but none more than The Avatar and my son and daughter."

Zhao's eyes bulged in realization that Princess Azula—his bride!—had allied with The Avatar. It was unthinkable! It was impossible! It was evil!

"And we will attack the North when it is time," Vaatu agreed. "There will be a time, whose occurrence is imminent. I know your sense of time is urgent because you are subject to Death, but you must cease your worry and anxiety. You will no longer be Death's subject when we bond."

"We will make The Avatar Death's subject."

Vaatu seemed to shudder in pleasure. "Forever. We will dispose of him in the Void—the fate he plans for us."

Fire Lord Ozai's shoulders—one connected to an arm and the other connected to air—arched back, prepared. "We will succeed. He will not."

"Only if we remain united," Vaatu pointed out, darkness growing around him in a swirl. "Reacquaint yourself with your old servant; progress to mastery in your earthbending; integrate your nobles with Chin V's kinsmen; continue your healing with Hama; learn waterbending; and maintain your grip of control over all. I am needed elsewhere for now."

"Where?" Fire Lord Ozai demanded, frowning.

"To find Agni and Devi."

"Still?"

"I must find where they are reforming and ensure they remain devoted to our cause, which is their cause. I have searched endlessly—and will until I reaffirm our alliance with each. I found your old servant in my search. What else shall I find?"

Vaatu vanished, leaving Zhao along with Fire Lord Ozai, who cocked his head at him, followed by a sharp glint of teeth. "It is nice to see another familiar face—a pleasure to be in the presence of an old friend." Fire Lord Ozai crunched his fist, producing a crack in the earth beneath them before shavings surged to his hand and covered his fist like armor. "You see that my aim is to become my own Avatar?"

He recovered his astonishment quickly; it was one thing to put the pieces together based on what he heard but another to actually see Fire Lord Ozai—Fire Lord Ozai!—use earthbending as easily as firebending. "Yes. I will support you in your endeavor. I want The Avatar destroyed forever."

"There is much you have missed," Fire Lord Ozai commented with an odd look on his face, though his golden eyes crackled with a dangerous glow. "The Avatar ended the Great War and supplanted me with my son. It has been over nine years since then."

Zhao inhaled sharply at the confirmation of how long he had been imprisoned by the Moon and Ocean—those damned spirits!—at The Avatar's blessing. "You were spared death?"

Fire Lord Ozai's face twisted in a disgusted, loathing sneer. "The Avatar cast me into shame and humiliation, depriving me of an honorable death. He is the greatest man alive—and, thus, the most wicked. My son followed The Avatar's will like the eunuch he is and trapped me in a cage. He smothered my firebending- "

"That is not possible," he gasped, terrified by the thought. If The Avatar—clearly the 'he' referenced—could smother Fire Lord Ozai's firebending, born of the most powerful and prestigious lineage in the world, what could The Avatar do to him?

"I lived it for eight years," Fire Lord Ozai whispered, voice distant, but his eyes were immediate in their hatred. "Not even I am capable of such monstrous cruelty. I almost admire The Avatar for it. His creativity is as brilliant as it is unnatural. I was worse than a peasant, spiritless. But Vaatu liberated me—I do owe him everything. Where my son, wife, father, daughter, brother, mother, and aunts all failed and betrayed me, Vaatu did not—he does not and never will. I will follow Vaatu into extinction if I must. Nothing will shake my faith or belief in our crusade, which is only possible because of him. We will bond and became our own Avatar. It is the natural conclusion of the humiliation, agony, and torture we each suffered at The Avatar's hands. And all our allies feel similarly. Do you, Zhao?"

Zhao nodded instantly. "Yes. I will never die until The Avatar dies—I refuse it. I tasted Power's embrace before The Avatar ripped it away from me in mockery and ordered the Moon and Ocean torture me with the promise of Death before stripping it from me. I have not lived since the moment The Avatar cast me into my torture—over nine years now."

Fire Lord Ozai smirked. "Closer to ten than nine now. But is that enough? Is your agony endured enough to extend agony to The Avatar?"

"I will die to see it done," he vowed.

"You may have to fulfill such an oath."

Zhao was undeterred. "If it guarantees The Avatar's death, it's worth it—on my honor."

Apparently satisfied, Fire Lord Ozai nodded. "Henceforth, you must never call me 'my lord' or 'my liege'; never will I be known to you by the name Ozai. You will call me Piandao now. Our success demands it, for preservation and confusion is critical."

Zhao recognized the name—and, thus, slight—and nodded. "Yes, Piandao."

"All our allies here, save for my old nobles, believe I am Piandao, a disgraced nobleman in whom Vaatu saw promise."

"Like Chin V," he observed.

"My earthbending master," Fire Lord Ozai clarified. "He and his kinsmen are a vast conglomerate who hate The Avatar. He will take the continent with his legions when all is finished. I have progressed far under his tutelage since I came here. But my waterbending master is here, as well. Her name is Hama." A vague gesture was made to stubbed shoulder, missing an attached arm, and Zhao tried not to stare, unable to envision a scenario where Fire Lord Ozai was maimed—unless if by The Avatar, which is what happened. "She is powerful and a worthy ally; she hates Fire, but more than us, she hates her grandniece, a fellow Waterbender—someone you must have encountered in your experiences with The Avatar."

Zhao scoffed in realization after several moments. "That waterbending girl accompanying The Avatar? Really?"

Fire Lord Ozai chuckled slightly. "They are blood, and Hama understands that betrayals of the blood are more terrorizing than any other, for when you betray your blood, you are, thus, a traitor rather than an enemy."

"And traitors are worse than enemies," he recalled, remembering Fire's teachings—all of which were true!

"Water's ethic of Family was compromised in Hama because of her grandniece's betrayal; she wants vengeance."

"A worthy woman—for a peasant."

Fire Lord Ozai hummed. "She could rule her race with her temerity and aggression—it is striking. I admire her in some ways. Perhaps I will fuck her—I have not decided yet. She possesses an exotic allure that entices my seed."

Zhao inclined his head. "If that is your wish, Piandao."

"She healed me from The Avatar's attack," Fire Lord Ozai said, voice drifting almost strangely; he seemed to stare at nothing and everything. "She monitors my shoulder and keeps it as able as she can, and she prevents my lost arm from decaying. It has made me fond of her, I suppose. She hates Fire obviously, but she appears to respect 'Piandao' as much as she can. She makes me whole—or will once my lost arm is no longer lost. I must repay her and make her whole, for she is not a whole. No woman is whole—for she can never be whole without a penis inside her, filling her. A woman is made to have a penis inside her, making her whole. When she is without a penis inside her, she is incomplete. I will complete Hama and make her whole. It is the honorable thing to do."

Zhao thought of Princess Azula—his bride!—and hesitated, remembering his suspicions before he shook his head. "What of Princess Azula- "

Fire Lord Ozai's golden eyes moved like flames, dancing in the dim light, ignited Zhao's heart with fire. "She is a prostitute, not a princess. If you ever mention her, you refer to her as Prostitute Azula. Do you understand?"

It was as he dreaded, but he needed answers. "What happened to Prostitute Azula, Piandao?"

"She betrayed me," Fire Lord Ozai hissed, face spasming. "She tricked me; she deceived me; she seduced me by vowing her seduction of The Avatar—and I believed her. She spread her legs for him, and his seed reached her mind instead of her womb. She is a traitor."

Zhao staggered, feeling his own rage enlarge even further. How dare The Avatar steal his future wife, his ticket into the Fire Royal Bloodline? His son by her was supposed to become the Fire Lord after Fire Lord Ozai's death! "Not only did he take my accomplishments, honor, and dignity," he commented in a simmering disbelief; he was on the verge of an eruption. "But he also took my bride?"

Fire Lord Ozai's vivid golden eyes burned. "He wanted us to live in shame—a great man, yes, but still a tyrant. We must surpass him in our tyranny. It is the only way. We will rape and plunder this world of all it is. It is the only way to rid the world of The Avatar's presence. Then there will be rebirth, which I will oversee."

"Never has something more pleasant been apparent to me."

Fire Lord Ozai smirked. "When was the last time you enjoyed a woman's company?"

Zhao's eyes drifted shut at the fragments of memory that still remained—it had been that long. "Since before my attack on the North."

"Have one of the many here," Fire Lord Ozai offered graciously. "I cannot say how any of them feel, but they will feel pleasant. All of our women believe in our cause here, whether descended from Agni or Devi. When a woman holds such belief that strengthens her spirit, it compresses her, making her firm and powerful, solidifying anything that was loose, impossible to topple. But the secondary reaction is that she becomes tighter. Find a woman and enjoy her tight constitution—release the compromised seed within you and find the purity dwelling therein, hidden behind and beneath all the layers of torture and agony you endured."

"At The Avatar," he clarified.

Fire Lord Ozai's responding smile was true but sharp. "Yes, at The Avatar," he echoed. "Start your redemption now."

Zhao set off.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"What is it?" his sister asked, voice urgent. "Why so furious?"

Chin V swung the door shut, despising the image that endured in his mind like the earth beneath his feet. It was Zhao, the newcomer, and Piandao—but his name was not Piandao, was it?—staring at each other with too much familiarity and knowing on their faces. And Zhao said 'Fire Lord Ozai' the instant he saw Piandao—Fire Lord Ozai?—and was notably shocked and confused simultaneously for several seconds before he recovered his composure. Zhao's greeting—it was a greeting!—was uttered in disbelief, conveying an astonishment, but astonishment arrived only when the truth was presented in such an unexpected way.

Like encountering the former Fire Lord, descended from Sozin, when having no forewarned idea.

It was everything that he had feared! Piandao—Fire Lord Ozai!—was Fire Lord Ozai, and the alliance he had secured to destroy The Avatar was made with a fellow enemy, not a friend! But it was no surprise, for Piandao—Fire Lord Ozai!—was too capable and cunning, unable to be a disgraced nobleman. A man like him could never be in disgrace by his race, for he was too great—only by The Avatar was disgrace possible, and Fire Lord Ozai was in disgrace, certainly.

Though he had no evidence to present, for it was only his instinct—he always followed his instinct! But he could never expect anyone else to follow his instinct. While his kinsmen, all the Children of Chin, should follow his instinct with him as their leader—the great heir to the Conqueror—his control had begun to slip since Vaatu's presence. He was no longer the most powerful one around—that had been taken by Vaatu, Fire Lord Ozai, and Hama, the Bloodbender. And then there was Vaatu's promise that Devi—the Earth Spirit!—would reform from The Avatar's attack and join them, and if it came down to it, his kinsmen would follow Devi before him, and Devi followed Vaatu.

Did Vaatu know? Was Vaatu aware of the deception and helped carry it out? Did Vaatu see allying with Fire Lord Ozai as a necessary evil, or was Vaatu, as the creator of the world, above such things and did not see the problem in allying with Fire Lord Ozai? Did Vaatu just care that The Avatar would be destroyed, and no matter what sacrifices—thus, alliances—made were worth it?

He had showed the Defiler's spawn the secret of his lineage's gift of lavabending, passed on by The Avatar's knowledge! He had breathed the same air as Fire Lord Ozai and let him sleep and recover in his territory! He had looked into golden eyes that were set in the Defiler's face generations ago! He had looked into Azulon's son's face and not known it when it should have been obvious! He had shaken hands with the Dragon of the West's brother!

He was deceived.

Was his alliance with Vaatu still worth it?

It all came down to what Vaatu wanted, and it appeared that Vaatu wanted Fire Lord Ozai as his vessel, for Vaatu would not be Vaatu if he were unaware of his vessel's true identity.

He needed to figure out how to show Vaatu that he had made the wrong decision—that his wanting was inaccurate.

"I do not believe Piandao is who he says he is," he lied, mind racing, not trusting his sister's skill in deception, not for beguiling Fire Lord Ozai's own subjects—or disgraced subjects, rather. "Nothing makes sense. He has everything to hide."

His sister nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"Ingratiate yourself with Piandao's kinsmen who have arrived in the past weeks," he ordered. "You need to research. Do whatever you must to earn their trust. Do not bother with seduction—you are too ugly for it to work. Instead, tell them that you doubt me and my leadership; tell them that Piandao entices your wonder. They are of Fire—they will eat it up like the fools they are."

"Of course, Brother."

"If they ever mention Fire Lord Ozai, pay attention," Chin V added. "Unlike the Defiler's other heirs, Fire Lord Ozai never left his palace; he left the fighting to other men."

"Very dishonorable," his sister scoffed.

A sneer crossed his deformed face. "Yes. But we must be prepared for Fire Lord Ozai. If Piandao's kinsmen mention Fire Lord Ozai, absorb everything and report to me."

"Will this ruin Piandao?"

Chin V laughed in expectation—he had to succeed! The Conqueror would demand nothing else! "I will bring his ruin to him. I should be Vaatu's vessel, not him. But we do not choose Vaatu; Vaatu chooses us, and we must accept his choices. It appears that I must persuade Vaatu to make a wiser choice. While I trust him, I do not trust the tools with which he surrounds himself—and Piandao is but a tool."

A tool used as an identify obfuscator, familiar enough to Fire to entice them to Vaatu's side while unfamiliar enough to trick Earth and Water into joining—all designed to maximize the possible damage leveled against The Avatar, amassing the biggest army possible to destroy him.

It was brilliant.

But Chin V despised the brilliance, for the brilliance meant an alliance with the Defiler's grandson, who knew nothing but death and atrocity. Even if it ensured The Avatar's demise, could it be worth it? Was it worth it?

He was unsure yet; he needed to think and buy himself time.

His sister frowned, staring up at him. "What will you do?"

Chin V felt a humorless smile cross his face, though it was sharp—he wanted it to cut Fire Lord Ozai. "Continue as I have. I must not let Piandao know I am onto him—that I see through his mask. He performs for everyone, but he cannot perform for himself. He can say he is Piandao, but he never will be. I have always seen the truth and known it; it is what distinguishes me from our kinsmen. It is why I am the Conqueror's heir; he saw the truth of Earth's fate, and I see it, too. I see our fate with a man like Piandao leading us as Vaatu's vessel."

"What do you see?"

The images surged through his mind, electrified by the memory of the passion he encountered in Fire Lord Ozai's eyes. "Ash. Bone. Blood. Piandao would feed us to The Avatar if it meant his survival; he does not care about us. We are tools to him."

His sister gripped his face, fingers drifting over his scars, producing a faint pleasure—because he could never feel intensely in those areas again. She turned his face to her. "He is our tool. We allied with him because he will help us destroy The Avatar."

Chin V's laugh was hoarse and bitter; it rattled in his chest. "We will never destroy The Avatar; we will not strike the final blow. The honor will never fall to us. Vaatu and Piandao have the honor, stranding us with none. We are pawns in their game, strategic pieces to be used and sacrificed according to their judgments. I must convince Vaatu we are more than that—that I am a worthier vessel for him."

At first, one of his arguments was going to be centered on the disparities in blood between himself and Piandao, but upon realizing that Piandao was Fire Lord Ozai, that argument would never work or hold the slightest substance.

A familiar smile crossed his sister's face. "I have all faith in you."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Zuko had thought that, upon leaving the Fire Nation in Uncle's hands and joining Aang indefinitely until the threat of Father and Vaatu was dealt with, he would be done with all the politics, but it was painfully clear that Earth was just as much a shitshow as Fire.

Probably more so because of all the disunity and confusion.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing that the decision was left in his, Aang, and King Bumi's hands, but he had to play nice with all the others, which meant there were too many people in the room. It was just like those fucking Great Gatherings all over again, but at least this one was at night—mainly to allow them all to speak plainly and fearlessly without Samir present, who had already gone to bed—which allowed his disgusted thoughts to not be seen on his face due to the lessened light available. "I'm used to dealing with idiot Earth Kings in Kuei, but I didn't know that Chyung and Zaofu's kings were just as bad. I knew they were bad, but not this bad."

Aang sighed next to him, rubbing his brows with his thumb and index fingers. "The problem is me. They hate me—with good reason."

"The only reason they need is pettiness," Azula derided. "They were weak beforehand—before Kuei embraced madness and challenged you directly. I do not even know their names."

King Bumi laughed slightly, but there was nothing amused in his wizened face. "King Tornor of Zaofu and King Lonin of Chyung. I'd like it if Tornor dropped dead today, but I think Lonin can come around."

Sokka's brows rose. "Why? What's special about him?"

"I fought with his father, who was a great man, in the War; his son inherited none of that greatness, unfortunately," King Bumi muttered, face twisting in disgust. "He's weak, inept, fickle, and easily led astray. I wouldn't trust him to wipe his own ass. From what I've heard and seen, his advisor is the real king."

"Then why trust his ability to 'come around'?" Azula challenged, staring at Fire's scourge with fearlessness. It was something that Zuko shared, but he wondered if all the legends of the Scourge of Fire were playing in her head like they were his. It was a wonder to sit so close to the man who had almost assassinated Grandfather. "If he has not come around already, why would he now?"

King Bumi drummed his fingers on the large table, massive enough to fit all of them—Zuko, Aang, Azula, Mother, Sokka, Suki, Toph, Katara, Mai, and Ty Lee—together, with King Bumi and Prince Bor at the front, sitting at the head. It was Zuko's idea to replicate Fire's war room set-up, giving everyone a voice.

Though, while in the Fire Nation it was a mere performance and charade for others to speak, it seemed to be more taken more seriously in the Earth Kingdom based on King Bumi asking everyone questions. Zuko had never asked questions as Fire Lord; he simply listened to reports and made decisions without asking for input. It was something he was forced to learn early on, lest he be led astray by an advisor. He learned to trust his judgment when it came to his race more than anyone else.

"I don't want anyone else to die because of me," King Bumi replied. "I'd like to be able to look his grandfather in the eye one day."

Toph laughed, and Zuko wasn't the only one who glanced at her; it was biting and mocking. "And you're not lying, are you?"

"You know I'm not."

When Toph scoffed but said nothing, Zuko watched Aang's gray eyes dart between Toph and King Bumi in worried consideration before raising his hands, stretching back slightly. "This doesn't change the source of either Tornor or Lonin's animosity. It's me. We can talk all day- "

"You mean night," Sokka corrected.

"- about trying to get them on our side, but they will never take us seriously with me here."

"They'll never take us seriously with their tongues up the Loser Lord's asshole," Sokka grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why do we even want them?"

"So Ozai does not have them," Mother answered. "This is a recruitment battle. Perhaps Kings Tornor and Lonin are already allied with Ozai, but we do not know; we cannot know for certain."

"But Aang is right," Katara cut in, and Zuko refused to look at her; he stared at the grainy patterns in the stone table raised by King Bumi. "We have to be able to offer them something. I want to believe that they'll join because they know it's the right thing, but I'm not sure."

King Bumi snorted. "Bump that 'not sure' up to a sure-as-shit certain, and you got the right idea."

Suki sighed. "I'm guessing offering them promises of peace and prosperity after Ozai and Dark are dealt with wouldn't be enough."

"Peace has never been their aim," Azula replied, frowning. "Tornor and Lonin were Kuei's allies."

"Not allies, ass-kissers," King Bumi corrected with a raised finger. "If Kuei told them to murder their wives, they'd do it."

"You might beat them to it," Toph muttered, and while not everyone heard it, Zuko heard it, along with Aang, who frowned at Toph, eyes narrowing.

"But if they were sycophants to Kuei, it matches that they would do the same for Vaatu," Azula continued. "Peace is not Tornor and Lonin's goal; they do not care, for they will always be protected. They do not live honorably or honestly; they will send their men to die in battle while they languish in luxury. The only way to obtain their regard is through their greed."

Sokka's brows pinched in thought. "What are you thinking in that crazy head of yours?"

Azula smirked slightly. "Offer them all of Ba Sing Se's territory and split it between them—or between Omashu, Zaofu, and Chyung, making you all equal. It is the only option I can surmise. This is a prudent option."

Silence.

Zuko reeled from the unthinkable suggestion while he saw Prince Bor's lips part in outrage before King Bumi held up a hand. "You may be right," he said in consideration after several moments. "But the problem is—do we really need them? Even if we split all this territory evenly, making three Earth Kings from now on, do you trust them to stand by it? Do you trust them to be on our side and not betray us to Ozai?"

"I don't," Zuko answered instantly, shaking his head. "Men like them don't change. They are ruled by their greed. Even if we give them extra territory as a sweetener, Father and Vaatu could come along and give them a better offer. They could be offered the entire continent to be split between them, promising to kill King Bumi and all his heirs."

King Bumi nodded with a grave expression on his face. "My point exactly."

"Then a change is needed," Sokka said, throwing his hands in the air. "If we need allies on the continent, which we do, we have to do something. Are Zaofu and Chyung our only way of getting allies?"

"Yes," King Bumi responded. "They control all the other territories, and they have spread their propaganda far and wide since Kuei's death—and before. We need them."

Aang groaned and held a hand to his face, resigned. "I need to leave- "

Azula glared at him, firm. "No. That is absurd."

"It's obvious."

"You mean excessive."

"I mean helpful."

"You mean distasteful."

"I mean necessary- "

Zuko shook his head. "Aang, you need to stay. We've already been split up enough as it is. We need to be together, at least for now until we decide further on what to do—what we can do."

Sokka shrugged. "If you offer them the extra territory, it would help; they might go for it. And once it's all over, you can conquer them if you want for being assholes and take control of everything."

King Bumi shook his head. "I didn't seize Ba Sing Se for control of Earth; I did it for stability during the chaos. And I won't be king long; Bor will take over once he's ready."

"Whatever you offer can be temporary in nature," Mother pointed out. "It is dishonorable, yes, but you must meet an enemy's capabilities. It appears that Kings Tornor and Lonin are dishonorable and would never hesitate to betray an oath or offer made to you if it benefited either. You must match their dishonor if you hope to maintain an advantage."

"You sure you won't marry me?" King Bumi with a grin. "I could use a wife with your intelligence."

Zuko closed his eyes in disbelief, wondering how massive King Bumi's testicles were. Why would King Bumi speak to his mother so boldly about marrying her? It was insane! Was he supposed to challenge King Bumi to an Agni Kai? Was he supposed to assassinate him? Was he supposed to ignore it? What were the protocols?

Mother smiled and inclined her head. "I am sure, King Bumi."

"And I'm sure that you're spot on in your assessment of Tornor and Lonin. I want Lonin to come around, but I'd frankly be surprised if he did. Tornor can eat shit for all I care."

"You will have to care if you make him an ally," Azula pointed out, curious. "What is the plan, King Bumi?"

King Bumi's lopsided eyes looked at Aang for several moments before he grunted. "We focus on one ally only. We choose which one we can swing to our side. Lonin—Chyung—is the only option. I'll send a message to him."

Aang's sigh was ragged. "You already have, haven't you?"

"Just a few."

"More than that," Aang said, nodding his head with a startled laugh that held no amusement in it.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Sokka interrupted in frustration, face twisting, motioning with his hands for emphasis. "I know we need these assholes—or one at least—but we have to come at it from a position of strength."

Azula glanced at Aang with a look in her golden eyes that Zuko couldn't decipher. "Whom better than The Avatar to demand assistance? There is no weakness conveyed if you pressure- "

Aang looked irritated and resigned simultaneously. "That's not going to accomplish anything. Everyone fears and hates me. Doing that wouldn't change it. It would make it worse."

"Nothing is going to change it until this war is over," Azula retorted softly but insistently while Aang closed his eyes. "Whether you like it or not, the only way this will all end is if you do something like that."

"I'm going to do that to Vaatu, not anyone else."

"What if we find another point for allies?" Katara asked, and while he felt her glancing at him, likely for his input, Zuko diligently ignored her. "Maybe we don't need a king; maybe we just need someone who's willing to do something- "

"We need someone with power," Zuko interrupted, finally looking at her for a moment; he was unimpressed by the hopefulness in her blue eyes—stop looking at her eyes! "We need someone with influence. We have to do Lonin. No idiot willing to do something to help can do anything, not unless he has influence, which everyone you're thinking of or would want to find wouldn't have. This isn't the time for heroic rebels fighting the world. We need something concentrated and put together." When he noticed that Mother was watching him with a pinched look on her face, he realized how harsh his words sounded, but he didn't care. "King Bumi will message Lonin, and we will work from there."

King Bumi cocked a brow at him, grinned knowingly, but nodded. "It's as good a plan as any for now, Fire Lord."

Sokka scoffed, looking suspicious. "And when Lonin's unreceptive?"

"We will come to it if it happens," Prince Bor dismissed sternly.

Toph looked down. "It will."

Prince Bor's eyes flashed. "You heard what I said."

When Toph said nothing in response, Zuko felt a vague knowing pierce his awareness that Toph and Bor shared history between them, and based on the disinterested hostility emanating from Bor, there seemed to be something sexual in nature. But he dismissed it as irrelevant because he didn't care; he had bigger things to worry about—so many bigger things. "We know what we're doing for Earth. Now, Uncle holds the Fire Nation in my stead. He will continue holding onto it. We don't need to worry there, not truly—certainly not like we do for Earth and Water."

"Isn't that a change of pace?" Suki muttered in amazement.

Zuko nodded in agreement, saw others do the same, and continued: "But in the North, we have heard that Sokka's rival, Hahn, has made moves to make his line to the throne more obvious."

Sokka grumbled under his breath for several moments before nodding. "That polardog fucker's itching for it."

"We're not going to the North, before you ask," Aang added, firm, staring at King Bumi. "That's a disaster waiting to happen. Vaatu can't know about the Ocean and Moon, so we do nothing for now."

King Bumi glanced at Sokka for several moments before his lopsided eyes slid to Katara in consideration; Zuko didn't know what it meant. "Is there a way to appease Hahn?"

"I'm gonna appease him with death and nothing more," Sokka promised, adamant.

"I thought the same about my enemies," King Bumi replied, gaze ancient and distant—and sad. "I didn't get my wish. Nothing went how I thought it would. Sozin and Azulon escaped me, and now, here I am, allying with their heirs. Keep that in mind about 'polardog fucker' Hahn."

Sokka snorted. "I get that, but Hahn's nowhere near the level of Sozin and Azulon."

Zuko nodded. "Sozin and Grandfather were great men; there's nothing great about Hahn."

"But does that mean he can't be swayed?" King Bumi asked, brows rising. "Sozin and Azulon couldn't be; they were invincible. If we allied with Hahn, it would stop our fears from coming true; it would stop our number of enemies from growing."

Aang leaned forward. "What do you suggest, Bumi?"

"From my understanding, Hahn doesn't have an heir, even though he married Arnook's cousin—a Waterbender."

Zuko realized suddenly that King Bumi was much more aware of the political situation in the North than he thought; he saw the same realization pass over Sokka's face. "That's right," Sokka confirmed. "The plan was for me actually to marry Arnook's cousin, but I married Suki instead because she's awesome. Hahn then married that cousin to make his claim stronger."

King Bumi's face was impassive, and not even Zuko's extensive experience could discern his thoughts or intentions; he noticed the same fascination he felt in Azula's eyes as she watched King Bumi. He wondered if his own face looked that way when he was Fire Lord. "And no children—no heirs—have been born."

He had no idea if King Bumi was talking about the childlessness of Hahn and Arnook's cousin or Sokka and Suki, but based on the way Suki's face flashed with devastated pain, she felt the faint accusation masked as an observation, while Sokka just nodded his head, clearly thinking it was only Hahn and Arnook's cousin King Bumi alluded to. "That's right."

"Perhaps his wife is barren," King Bumi suggested, fingers drumming the table in a strange rhythm. "I doubt he cares about her."

Sokka snorted. "He probably doesn't even know her name."

"If we offered him another wife, he might listen."

"That's an idea," Sokka mused, rubbing his chin. "But I don't know who."

King Bumi's eyes passed over Katara—in appraisal, which alerted Zuko of his intentions finally; he saw Azula lean back in understanding, as well. He refused to acknowledge the way his heart flushed with fury as King Bumi inclined his head at Katara but knew Toph was aware of the change. "Katara would be a good wife for him, one that might get him to listen to us and ally with us, keeping our number of enemies at a stable number."

"No fucking way!" Sokka shouted, outraged, while Katara looked too speechless to eviscerate the idea.

Zuko's jaw clenched at King Bumi's solution, the only reaction he allowed himself. "It could work," he observed evenly.

Katara's head swiveled to stare at him, shocked. "What?" she gasped, sounding almost strangled; she looked betrayed.

Zuko didn't blink and glanced at her for the briefest moment before looking back at King Bumi. "It might be worth pursuing if Katara is open to it."

Sokka glared at him, face twisting. "You son of a fucking cunt! You don't get to decide that- "

"I'm not deciding anything!" Zuko snapped. "The option is there, nothing more! Get your head out of your ass! It's up to Katara!"

Silence.

Aang sighed, shaking his head. "It wouldn't work, anyway. We're forgetting that Hahn isn't the power in the North; Arnook is. And Hahn is married to Arnook's cousin. He would never set her aside or anything while Arnook is still in power. By offering Katara, we'd just be encouraging him to assassinate Arnook or something so he can seize the throne and become the power in the North. It won't work."

Katara's blue eyes burned, glaring at him; Zuko stared back, letting nothing show on his face. "I'm not marrying Hahn no matter what," she said, steadfast. "This is the last I want to hear of something so gross and stupid."

King Bumi raised his hands in apology. "It had to be discussed as an option, considering our options are very thin right now. Now that we know it would never work, it will never be thought of again."

"It shouldn't have been thought of in the first place."

"Nothing's off the table," King Bumi replied, firm; he looked unimpressed by Katara's ire. Zuko admired him greatly. "We all have to make sacrifices. It's the way of the world."

Sokka's fists clenched visibly on the table before he hid them beneath the surface. "That's my sister- "

"Who, under better circumstances, would be the perfect candidate to ensure an alliance with Hahn and keep our enemies from growing."

Zuko nodded, incapable of seeing a flaw in the logic; he didn't try hard to. "He's right."

Katara looked slapped, but before she could challenge him—it looked like she might yell at him—Aang intervened: "I know better than anyone that thinking about the 'what ifs' doesn't do anything." Something dark, resigned, and haunted flashed in his gray eyes. "Believe me, I know. We're done talking about this. I don't know what we can offer Hahn to make him see reason. Frankly, I don't think he can be appeased."

Azula nodded immediately. "Yes, he already sponsored the murder of many of Sokka's rivals; he will not stop. There is no evidence, but I believe he is already allied with Vaatu."

"But Arnook isn't," Suki pointed out, clearly unsurprised by Azula's suspicion; it looked like she agreed. "That's the difference; that's what has never made sense. We always thought Arnook was allied with him or would be, but he's not."

"He never will if he knows what's good for him," Toph muttered.

Aang's finger rubbed across the table in an intricate pattern as he stared at nothing; Zuko recognized it dimly as Air's symbol. "I trust Arnook to hold the North; he's held it so far for decades. Vaatu doesn't know where the Ocean and Moon are, which is our advantage. There's no way he could know. Even if he went to Wan Shi Tong, Wan Shi Tong wouldn't tell him."

Sokka frowned. "Why? That owl's a giant asshole. Why wouldn't he just keep being one by telling- "

"Vaatu would owe him a favor if he asked," Aang explained. "You have to give to get; you must get to give. I know Vaatu—he's not willing to owe a favor of such a magnitude for the Ocean and Moon's location. Vaatu wants to hold all the strings, pulling each as he deems fit; it's how he's gotten this far. He hates the thought of someone holding his string, attaching him to a string—to a favor. And if Wan Shi Tong told him the Ocean and Moon's location—or Indra's location, if he knows it, which I'm not convinced he does—it would be a very powerful string. It would actually be an indestructible string."

Azula blinked in realization. "That is why you have not asked where Indra is."

Aang nodded. "I will have to give up something equally priceless, which is significant, especially because I'm The Avatar. What's priceless to me is a lot more priceless than anything else anyone could offer—and it's the same for Vaatu. Wan Shi Tong would get a lot out of it, which we're all—me, Vaatu, and Wan Shi Tong—aware of."

"And you're going to keep it that way," King Bumi observed without judgment. "You'll keep all this in limbo?"

While Aang tensed for a moment, which Zuko knew was a response to the word 'limbo' that could only remind him of Azula's death, Azula hummed. "It is the prudent strategy—for now. There will come a point where we must act and know Indra's location, but we have time."

"I can find her on my own," Aang vowed, firm. "She was in Ba Sing Se to save Samir's life. She's here in the Mortal Realm. I suspect that she forfeited her immortality just like Tui and La did, but she could be anywhere in this Realm. I don't know what form she wrapped herself in before she sacrificed her immortality. The guise she's cloaked in evades my senses."

One of Suki's brows rose. "Are you sure she's in the Mortal Realm?"

"Yes."

"But what if she was in the Immortal Realm?"

Aang looked sober. "I'd have to spend years searching for her."

Zuko remembered the maps that Sokka had obsessed over, maps drawn by Agni himself. "But that's what Agni and Devi were doing before you killed them- "

King Bumi choked on his drink, staring at Aang with bulging eyes; Prince Bor looked similar, but there was very little of a resemblance. "You killed Devi?"

"Killed her body," Aang explained. "And Agni's. Both are reforming—or already have. I'm not sure. I can't sense either, but I'm not sure if that's because they are hiding themselves or are still reforming."

"Will Agni and Devi continue their search for Indra?" Zuko asked, finishing his interrupted thought.

Aang nodded. "I don't see why they wouldn't. They have to have Indra, especially because Indra is the only one who could teach Ozai airbending."

Katara shuddered. "But she wouldn't, right?"

Zuko expected Aang to effortlessly deny it with a calm, knowing assurance, but Aang looked away. "I'm not sure."

Azula seemed the only one not surprised by Aang's shocking uncertainty regarding the Air Spirit's capability. "But Agni and Devi will still search the Immortal Realm for her, not looking here. That buys us significant time."

"There will come a point when they start looking here for her, but I don't know when that will be."

"Is the only reason we're worried about the North because of the Ocean and Moon?" Prince Bor asked, staring at Aang with curiosity.

"Predominantly," Aang confirmed. "I'm not worried about whatever army the North could raise—or the hostility, animosity, or hatred that motivates them.

Zuko snorted. "Because the North's full of cowards."

Sokka shrugged in admission. "Yeah. I'm hoping to change that."

King Bumi laughed. "Good fucking luck. The North's too busy trying to warm up their frozen testicles to make any kind of difference—ever."

Prince Bor cleared his throat, glancing at King Bumi with a fond exasperation. "Then we know what to do about the North, Zaofu, Chyung, and the Fire Nation."

"And the South is on our side," Sokka confirmed easily. "Dad will come when we call him—when it's time."

Azula looked around at everyone, even Mai and Ty Lee, though her expression never changed. "We have a tentative plan. We must start executing it."

People began to stand up and leave, but Katara darted straight at him, ire on her face, and while Azula cocked an expectant brow at him, Zuko sighed and stood to his feet. "What?" he asked when she reached him.

"I could hit you!" she snapped, shaking. "Why would you say me marrying Hahn is a good idea?"

Zuko stared at her, expressionless. "I didn't say it was a good idea; I said it was an option that might work."

"Why would you be so stupid?"

"Don't insult my intelligence."

Katara's face spasmed, mouth opening and closing; she seemed to have so many things to say but couldn't decide which to utter—yell—first.

Thankfully, King Bumi suddenly appeared in his vision with a small grin. "Fire Lord Zuko, come and walk with me—you and I need to discuss something meant for our ears only. It's a matter of the security of our realms."

Katara swallowed, and while the expression on her face notified him that the conversation wasn't finished, Zuko ensured that his expression confirmed that the conversation was finished. "Of course," he said, brushing past Katara without a second glance. "I'm happy to discuss anything you want."

"I bet you are," King Bumi agreed with a wink.

"You can stay here," Katara interrupted with a plain false and tight smile; she bowed. "I'll go. I would hate to be inconsiderate to our host."

King Bumi laughed and waved Katara away. "Then off you go. If you have to be inconsiderate, go bother that brother of yours."

Katara was already out of the room before King Bumi finished, and Zuko smirked slightly. "You know that's where she's going right now."

King Bumi grinned. "Yep. I know when a woman won't listen to reason—believe me, I know.

Zuko nodded in thanks. "I appreciate it. But don't think this makes me owe you a favor."

"I think you owe me a favor because I didn't assassinate your grandfather—or because I'm letting you stay here."

His only brow rose. "You want me to owe you a favor?"

King Bumi shrugged. "It wouldn't be a bad thing for the Fire Lord to owe me a favor."

Zuko stared at King Bumi, into the face that was the source of many nightmares for Fire Nation soldiers for decades, as an idea slowly came to him, particularly fanned by Katara's rejection and, frankly, unlikeable demeanor in calling him stupid and insulting his intelligence. "You keep talking about a marriage to tie us together. Are you serious about it?"

King Bumi blinked in surprise before sighing in lament. "I am. Your mother's a beautiful woman, but she's not interested- "

"I'm not talking about her."

A surprised laugh echoed. "Fire Lord Zuko, I'm a very bold man, but not even I would steal The Avatar's wife."

He shook his head rapidly. "No, no. I'm not talking about marrying you to my sister. You mentioned you have a granddaughter—Anju, I believe."

King Bumi straightened. "You would marry her?"

"I'm not talking about my uncle," he confirmed.

Silence.

"She's already married," King Bumi said finally, something calculating entering his lopsided eyes. "She loves her husband; she chose him."

Zuko caught the look on King Bumi's face and recognized it. "Against your wishes?"

King Bumi scoffed and shook his head, seemingly in exasperation. "Both of my grandchildren choose someone unworthy of their love. I don't understand it."

"It's love," he muttered, thinking of the love he felt for Katara that was insane and stupid to the core—it was pointless and painful! "It doesn't make sense at all."

"Experience talking?"

"You know it is."

King Bumi's smile was tainted by memories. "Yes. It's the same experience of all men when remembering a memorable woman. If you're serious about Anju, I'll make it work. If I order it, she'll leave her husband—she knows to obey me."

"Why didn't you order her not to marry him in the first place if she knows to obey you?"

King Bumi snorted. "Because I'd still have to live with her, while with you, she'd live away from me. I didn't want to hear all her bitching about it. I love her more than you know—more than you ever could—but she's, in many ways, a princess."

Zuko smirked slightly. "I have enough experience with Azula. I could handle your granddaughter."

"I hold no doubts," King Bumi commended before something serious and ancient appeared in his crooked eyes. "But you didn't answer my question. Are you serious about it?"

He frowned, unimpressed. "You know I've never broached the subject—marriage—with anyone; I've never made an offer to anyone, least of all another ruler. It's why Kuei was such a dragon's shit about it with his niece."

"Why now?"

"It's clear that I must start thinking about the future. It's been closer to ten years than nine since I took the Dragon's Throne. I need an heir swiftly, specifically when all this is over."

He couldn't let there be a second Splintering, no matter if Uncle could hold the Fire Nation in his absence.

King Bumi stared at him, face carved in stone, betraying nothing. "Why not marry a woman of your race? Surely Fire will not want a half-spawn on the Dragon's Throne."

Zuko waved a hand; he had already considered the notion many times, particularly when he thought about Katara—because there could not be a return of Fire Lord Zyrn, who was an Airbender, and his situation, which culminated in his assassination and the murder of his son, as well. And while his Fire Lady would never be Katara—that was more than clear—his conclusions about such a hybridized marriage and inevitable reproduction in children still remained. "It's for one generation only, a sign and symbol of peace. Even if my son is a weak Firebender, he will marry a Fire noblewoman, and his son after him will do the same, and his son after him, and his son after him. It will not matter. Whatever my son inherits from your granddaughter would be diluted out after three or four generations, leaving only Fire."

"Why my granddaughter?"

His lone eyebrow rose. "You were already talking about a more lasting alliance between us."

King Bumi smiled strangely. "Would any of this have to do with Katara?"

Zuko frowned, wondering how King Bumi could have arrived at that conclusion. "No."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't give a dragon's shit what you believe."

King Bumi laughed and looked at him with refreshing respect. "Even if you married Anju?"

"Even if," he confirmed. "There's nothing between Katara and me."

"Did you want there to be?"

Zuko had the painful knowing that King Bumi would sense his lie; he relented to the truth. "That's no longer an option. Frankly, it never was."

King Bumi hummed and nodded. "Alright. Give me time to think about Anju. If not her, maybe your mother will stop loving your father, and I can marry her."

He felt no amusement or disgust, only a deep sadness and exhaustion. "That's never going to happen."

"And your sister is taken," King Bumi said, clearly not surprised by how deep Mother's love for Father existed. "And taken by Aang of all men."

Zuko stared at him, curious, since King Bumi knew Aang very well—or the boy Aang once was. After all, King Bumi actually knew the boy Aang was better than anyone, even more than Katara and Sokka. "It surprises you?"

"If you knew him back then, it wouldn't surprise you at all," King Bumi clarified with a grin before it faded. "It doesn't surprise me; it just surprises me that the man he's become accepts her."

He grunted, still irritated that Aang had treated Azula so poorly after the marriage. "You didn't see him when he didn't accept her."

King Bumi looked solemn. "Yes, I did."

Zuko stared at him for several moments, glimpsing the pain and sorrow. "You should talk to him. He accepted Azula against all odds; he'll accept you, too."

A flinch—a flinch!—spasmed through King Bumi's body, but Zuko pretended not to notice it, though he knew King Bumi wasn't buying it. "You have no idea what it means to be the Fucker of Fire."

"Yes, I do—or have a powerful idea, at least," he responded. "I heard all the legends when I was a boy about you, and there's always truth in legends, isn't there? It's just figuring out how much of truth is there, whether it's a lot or a little. Aang's gotten a lot better at seeing the truth in the legend, and the truth about you is a lot more complicated than what the legends suggest, right?"

King Bumi's breathing seemed to change; it sounded thicker and fuller, chest expanding more. "Iroh did well with you, Fire Lord."

Zuko smiled slightly. "I made him work at it."

"How is he?"

"Not sure," he admitted, feeling a sudden burst of shame. "I'll need to write him a letter soon."

King Bumi waved a hand in assurance. "Take whatever you need. A messenger will take it to him whenever it's ready. I'm sure it will brighten his spirits to hear from you."

"I think if the Fire Nation elevated ginseng tea to its national beverage, that would brighten his spirits even more. He's probably already commissioned, as my regent, a Jasmine Dragon to be constructed at the palace in the Caldera."

As he feared, King Bumi didn't think his claim was far-fetched; he seemed to accept it easily. "Iroh's always done what he wants."

Zuko nodded, hoping that Uncle had not actually wasted money to commission a Jasmine Dragon—that would act as the perfect justification for another Splintering! "I know."

"I still don't know why I didn't kill him that day," King Bumi whispered, face stricken in confusion and relief. "I should have, but I didn't. An heir of Sozin walks to Omashu's walls alone and screams for me to come out and face him. I go out and battle him; I crush him within moments, breaking him in so many ways, for he is a shadow of his former glory, lost in grief over his son's death. And I loom over his body, ready to fulfill my vow to exterminate all of Sozin's seed, to succeed where I failed with his father, but I hesitate, seeing the look on his face, shining in his eyes. Iroh begged for death, weeping, but something held me back. I still don't know what caused it. Maybe it was the way he laid there; maybe it was the way his breaths rattled in his chest in a grotesque wheeze; maybe it was how his blood stained the ground, leaking out of him in slow inevitability; maybe it was the way he looked up at me, hopeful and ready with tears in his eyes; maybe it was the way he seemed to memorize everything around him, savoring the last breaths he took, leaving him more defenseless and vulnerable than anyone I had ever fought—and this was Sozin's grandson, the son of Azulon, who had robbed me of my joy and retribution. I'm not sure—I have no idea. But suddenly, all I could remember at that moment was Aang—a friend I had forced myself to stop thinking about. I looked at Iroh as he was, so broken, and I knew at that moment, that Aang wouldn't want me to kill him; then I thought about so many other people I knew and lost, and they all would want me to kill him, condemning him for the sins of his bloodline. But if Aang, who had been killed directly by Fire, would show mercy, it meant that no one else could call for Iroh's death, least of all me. What did I know of pain? What did I know of torture? What did I know of death? I didn't know any of it, not like Aang did when he died with all the Air Nomads in a single day. And Aang would spare him, which meant that I could, too; it was within my capability. It showed me something about myself, awakened a part of me I had forgotten—forced myself to forget. You have to forget a lot about yourself in War. But I remembered something that day, and I spared Iroh because of it."

Zuko exhaled slowly, thinking about his own experiences in the Great War, which were clearly unimpressive and stale next to King Bumi's. "Thank you for sparing him," he whispered, deep emotion clawing at him. It was because of King Bumi's unthinkable mercy that Uncle lived, changing his trajectory and saving Fire in the long run. "You talked about me owing you a debt. I certainly do. You tell me what you want, and I'll get it to you."

King Bumi didn't seem to hear him. "What I want isn't within your power to give, Fire Lord. I can remember a time, in my childhood, when the Four Nations seemed at peace."

"That was a long time ago," he said quietly, knowing what time King Bumi spoke of. "I have never known that peace."

King Bumi nodded solemnly. "Yes, it was a long time ago. In many ways, I believe that the Great War's greatest thefts have yet to be seen and understood. As you said, your generation, you specifically, know nothing about living in a peaceful world. All of you, except for Aang, were all born in war, bred to fight and kill. Maybe that's why we were always doomed to fail after the Great War."

"And with leaders like Kuei, we were always going to be damned."

"What we need is no more leaders that are like Kuei. But what I suppose I need now is a night's sleep." King Bumi glanced at him with a worn smile. "To remember better things than the things I think about now."

"I understand."

"You should sleep, too."

He sighed and clenched his jaw before sighing. "You don't have a concubine, do you?"

King Bumi laughed, apparently not at all surprised or taken aback by his unusual question. "Speaking of memories I could do without. No, I stopped having concubines around after one tried to cut my testicles off."

Zuko's lone brow rose as he stifled his disappointment; he wasn't surprised, but he was hoping that he could finally have something go his way after so much going against him for so long. Or maybe it was a good thing he couldn't get back into his habit.

It was a good thing.

"What did you do in response?"

"Made her eat her eyes."

He decided to believe him; he was the Scourge of Fire, after all, and making a concubine eat her own eyeballs after trying to cut off his testicles was pretty tame compared to the legends that once terrified him as a child. "I bet that was a sight she never forgot."

"'Cause it was the last one she ever had," King Bumi agreed, voice soft, almost mournful.

Zuko inclined his head with a brief chuckle. "Goodnight, King Bumi."

"Goodnight, Fire Lord."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Preserving Piandao's shoulder, keeping it from scarring was a delicate task; she didn't want blood pouring out of the wound, but she needed to keep it afresh, which was difficult because its natural progression was to scar. She had to fight it daily to keep the shoulder in a preserved state, viable to be re-attached to its missing arm, which she also preserved. Mastering her chakras had maximized her endurance and strength, but it was still a trying process—she was fighting against Nature, after all.

Hama pulled the water away from Piandao's shoulder with a grimace of exhaustion, kneeling in front of him as he reclined on the cot, giving her the perfect emphasis on his shoulder. "We may need to start doing this twice a day."

Piandao grunted and sat up on the cot, legs swinging over near her—but he did not stand up. "We need many things."

She frowned, seeing the expression on his face as she returned the water to her bowl. "Meaning?"

"We need easier lives," he muttered, staring at something she couldn't see, even when she turned around briefly to look. "None of this should have happened."

Hama laughed but it sounded shrill to her own ears. "You can thank your race for all of this."

Piandao glanced at her, face so expressive in its inexpression—it was remarkable. "What did my race do to- "

"Are you that stupid?" she demanded, glaring up at him. "You invaded! You brought the atrocities of war to our homes! You murdered Air!"

"Who do you think brought it to our homes?"

Hama leaned back, surprised by his bored, almost amused question. "What?"

A flame bloomed in Piandao's hand; it was threatening and terribly warm. "A flame does not appear without first a spark, and nothing fans a spark into a flame like the wind—like Air. There was a spark to what we did—as there were sparks to what we do now."

"What did Air do?" she asked quietly, wanting to learn. "How did they fan the sparks into flames- "

Piandao's face shuddered with ire; the flame brightened terrifyingly in his hand before it vanished, darkening their surroundings. "They wanted our enslavement, and Fire Lord Sozin prevented it with his eminent greatness and will—that is all I know. I know no specifics. That knowledge was kept from me. I only know the who, not the why or what or how. I suppose I would have learned it if Fire Lord Azulon lived longer, but it was not to be." A derisive laugh echoed. "Fire Lord Azulon was notorious for his secrets. He cultivated knowledge for himself and refused to share it. When he died, all his knowledge died with him, for he kept no records of what he knew. After his death, you could feel the absence; you could feel the lack of knowledge in the air. We no longer knew what we were fighting for after his death, not truly—no one knew, not even me. We lacked the reasons for our continued pursuit; we simply kept doing what our fathers before us did without deducing their motivations and reasons, which gave us no heart. We were empty. Fire Lord Azulon is why Fire lost the Great War—due to his selfishness in hoarding his secrets, the very knowledge needed for survival and victory."

"I hated Azulon," she hissed, sneering as the memories surged through her mind; the fire was lit inside her, and it would never be extinguished. "He invaded my home, killed my love, and stole me from my race. When he died—when I heard he died—I celebrated like never before."

Piandao's face was distant; there was a strange smile, almost sorrowful in some way, but there was a gladness that spoke to her. "That was a good day."

Hama stared at him, trying to comprehend him. He was a nobleman who hated his own lord—the Fire Lord. It was impossible, but the evidence was before her. "You hated Azulon?"

"I wanted him dead, which he deserved in so many ways."

"Did you ever meet him?"

The look on his face made her heart throb in recognition, for she realized that he had—had!—met Azulon. "I lived in the Caldera," Piandao divulged. "Do you know what that is?"

"Yes."

"I met him many times. I always had to prevent myself from attacking him, for I knew he would shame and destroy me. My fate was held in his hands—as were so many others."

Hama's eyes widened, for he clearly knew Azulon well—or had seen him often from a distance, more likely. "You're from one of the prominent noble families."

It was the only explanation.

Piandao's lips quirked just slightly, though his golden eyes were shaded by bitterness. "Yes, though my family never wanted me; they all hated me."

"Family betrayed me, too," she sympathized, recalling Katara's betrayal. It was evil!

Piandao laughed suddenly; there was a wild look in his golden eyes. "No one in my family has ever not betrayed me; they all failed me. My mother betrayed me by dying before I ever knew her; my father betrayed me by hating me; my aunts betrayed me by endowing in me weakness, matching their weak constitutions; my brother betrayed me by torturing me; my wife betrayed me by abandoning me; my son betrayed me by stealing all that I am; and my daughter betrayed me by entering my enemy's bed."

Hama stared at him, realizing he knew the betrayal of Family more than she ever could. All she had was Katara, her grandniece, while he had everyone ever in his family. "You were married?"

"I am married," he corrected with a glare. "One day, I will reunite with my wife and make better children than we did."

"But she abandoned you," she pointed out, unable to understand his rationale. "Why would you say you are still married to her if she abandoned- "

He grunted, displeased, but he nodded, clearly understanding why she asked the question. "Her motivation lied in our children. I am sure it did—I know it did. She succumbed to the weakness in motherhood. What she never realized, as all mothers before her and as all mothers yet to be mothers, is that she will only ever have one husband while she will have multiple children—many children. Thus, a woman's position as wife is more important—more primary—than her position as mother. My wife believed we could never have more children and inflated our children's value until it superseded my value in her eyes—a common mistake for a woman. She never considered our children's deaths and the inevitability, in response, of more children to fill the void. I imagine she thought our children's lives were at risk and thought abandoning us, severing our family, was the evil solution necessary to preserve their lives; she understood that I could protect them while she could not, for she possessed the weakness in motherhood—no one is more primary in a mother's eyes than her children. Thus, my wife would destroy Fire if it meant our children's preservation, which would, thus, ruin her children, for they would no longer have a race and nation." Something proud and fond entered Piandao's eyes, a sign of precious memories. "She would murder the Fire Lord if it meant our children's preservation—such is her will and fire. And she would abandon her children out of love to preserve them in the protection of their father—me, who would never inflate their value, providing stability, order, and health. My wife's foremost aim is our children while my foremost aim has always been broader and grander; I look to nationhood and the world."

Hama swallowed and dared risk his ire; her curiosity was too curious. "Is that why your children betrayed you?"

Piandao's golden eyes became alight with fury. "Yes. They lack the clarity of vision and precision of intelligence. My son stole my position and ousted me; he condemned me to torpor. My daughter tricked me, making me think she was on my side before she revealed her allegiance to The Avatar, opening her legs for him, and nearly killed me in the process. The results of my injuries are what The Avatar dealt me, directed by my daughter's treachery." He gestured to his stubbed shoulder with his head, though he refused to look at it, likely unable to stand the horrifying sight. "This is her work."

Hama was amazed, for she could never imagine such endurance—the ability to strive on and keep going—after eviscerating, heart-shattering betrayals; it was the worst betrayal of Family she had ever heard. She felt in awe of Piandao in a strange way, for she recognized parts of herself in him, though he exemplified such traits far more than she was capable of. He possessed a level of strength, rebellion, and striving that she wanted to imitate as much as she was capable.

There was a powerful kinship with him, something she never imagined was possible when she first met him—a Firebender born of one of Fire's premier noble families.

It forced her to rethink her conceptions.

"Will you kill your children?" she asked, watching him.

Piandao was quiet for several moments. "I already killed my daughter," he whispered, face flashing with a hidden shock—and disbelief. "The Avatar returned her, but I already killed her. It is clearly within my capability. I will kill her again, and I will kill my son—I must. There is no other option. They will kill me if I do not."

Hama understood, for she was going to kill Katara—it was the only thing acceptable! "Do you have any family left besides them?"

"My brother and wife," he answered, glancing at her; he seemed to evaluate her in the span of a single sweep of his gaze. "My brother will die, and my wife will live. I do not know if my aunts are still alive."

There was a strange frown on his face, and Hama's head tilted. "Do you want them to be?"

"They raised me," he said, the frown becoming more pronounced. "My father's older sisters—twins, born of my grandfather's first marriage. They raised me in my dead mother's stead; they taught me; they loved me as they could; they regarded me when my father refused to. But I did not care for their affection and regard; I wanted my father's, which he never shared. My aunts were non-benders—weakness. However, it reflected my weakness as a Firebender, which they endowed in me as failures. Yet, I allowed them to tutor and mentor my daughter before she betrayed me. Perhaps that culminated in her later betrayal—I cannot say."

Hama was beginning to feel a dreadful suspicion bloom inside her, for he was being too honest with her—too open. "Why are you telling me this?"

Piandao looked at her, golden eyes piercing. "I must pay a price for the resolution I need—the answers I need."

She blinked and sensed the blood in his body, which she could freeze if he became violent; it was always a possibility—he was of Fire, after all. "And you have chosen me to give you the answers you need?"

"Some of the answers," he corrected distantly. "You can only be real with me if I am real with you. You are scared of me."

Hama's fists clenched in her lap, bitter that he saw the truth so easily. "Why should I not be? You are of Fire, born of those disgusting nobles."

Piandao smiled; it did nothing to reassure her. "I do not care if I have your fear—so long as I have your loyalty. I pay the price now to ensure your loyalty—to ensure you provide me answers that are real."

Her curiosity was too strong to resist. "What answers?"

"The Avatar humiliated me and cast me into shadows, deprived of the light," Piandao whispered, staring at the sudden flames that appeared in his only hand. For perhaps the first time ever, Hama felt no worry about what the flames could do to her; instead, she gazed at them, too. "I wanted him to kill me; I hated that he did not. So much of my hatred for him lies in his debasing cruelty, but none of this would be possible without him sparing me; I would not be here, with the chance to avenge myself and all the other great man shamed by him, if not for him sparing me; I would not have the glory abiding in me now if not for him sparing me; I would not be me if not for him sparing me." Piandao glanced at her with a wry, penetrating quirk of his lips. "You would not be here if The Avatar had killed me; you would still be imprisoned, bending-less; you would never have your chance to avenge your betrayal by your niece if not for The Avatar sparing me."

Hama frowned as she recalled the gray-eyed boy she knew as 'Kuzon'—The Avatar—who elected to spare Fire from vengeance and, more disgustingly, agreed with Katara's betrayal of Family and endorsed it. "The thought's occurred to me."

Something became trapped in Piandao's jaw as it clenched. "I owe The Avatar, which is an agonizing feeling. I do not want to owe him, not anything more than my retribution—but it is more than that. Honor demands I pay my debt, and I have always been honorable. But I cannot be honorable about this—never this. How can I be?"

Hama watched Piandao's face and registered the strange qualities it contained; his vulnerability and confusion looked unnatural, and she realized he had never possessed—or portrayed—such things before. It was a new experience, but almost dying at The Avatar's hands had awakened something within him, stirring conclusions in his mind that haunted him. She did not know much about The Avatar's attack against Piandao, only other than the results of it, but she had learned that The Avatar had started the attack, directed by his daughter's treachery.

The Avatar had attacked first in a surprise appearance of volatility while Piandao had defended himself.

"I never wanted to die, not even when he shamed me so profoundly—I wanted to return to my power, which I always had faith I would accomplish. But I see now that my return—my continuance—is only possible because of The Avatar. I hate him for that. It is not even me who makes this possible; it is him who makes it possible. I do nothing; I provide myself nothing—only what he gives me."

She realized that Piandao truly did seek answers, likely born of his close brush with death at The Avatar's hands. But what answers could she give him? After all, she agreed with everything he said. "You must use that as motivation."

"But is it enough?" he questioned, seemingly to himself. "If I am to triumph over him, I need more than that. Vengeance is a refreshing drink; it quenches my thirst. But it is not the meal that I need; it does not endow in me energy and vigor. Vengeance provides relief, not fuel—that is what I have realized."

Hama hesitated before she allowed her memories of Katara to take her back. "I encountered The Avatar for a week or so when he was a boy—all before the Great War ended."

Piandao's eyes swept over her, betraying nothing. "Really?"

"He was just a boy," she recalled, feeling a laugh of disbelief. "A short boy with round cheeks and boundless energy—all skin and bones everywhere else. But I know he wasn't a boy; he was a god. But he pretended to be a boy and have a boy's limitations all when he could have waved his hand and annihilated Fire with fire and lightning beyond even Agni whenever he wanted. That alone makes The Avatar more evil than Fire—more than anyone. He pretends to be one of us, but he isn't one of us and never will be. He appears to be a man but that doesn't mean he is one—because he's not one and can never be."

Flames burst in Piandao's eyes. "Yes," he hissed in agreement. "He is the god. That is what he is, and who he is can never oppress that."

Hama nodded. "But while I knew him, he and Katara talked about ending the Great War, and their motivations had nothing to do with vengeance. Maybe they did, but they refused to admit it, which is most likely. But what they spoke about was something bigger than vengeance—something 'greater,' they called it. They were doing it for the world rather than themselves. Vengeance is a selfish sensation; it's for you only and no one else. That's what makes it personal and powerful, but that's also what deprives it of any lasting impact. Vengeance is enough for me. As long as I have my vengeance against Katara and later Fire, I'll be content." She watched Piandao's face, tilting her head, making sure he understood what she was saying; he clearly did, in possession of a strong intelligence. "But I don't think that's enough for you—I don't think it can be. Because your goal is to be another Avatar, which is something bigger and greater than vengeance. It's about the world, whether you realize it or not. That's what you need to focus on. You need to do the same as Katara and The Avatar—have the same outlook. This can be the meal you spoke of while vengeance is your drink. Even as a boy, The Avatar understood it—because he's a god. If you are to be a god like him, you must understand what he understands."

Silence.

Piandao's flames expanded and diminished with his breathing, with every breath, and Hama was unable not to stare; there was something mesmerizing in his effortless, almost charming control. "I must look at something greater than myself," he concluded, voice drifting, but his eyes were intense with consideration. "That is what The Avatar did. He may have wanted to indulge in who he is and annihilate Fire with a wave of his hand, but he looked to something bigger than who he is—what he is, which answers to the Balance of the Realms. He looked to something bigger and greater, and I must do the same. I must look to the world and think about how I can better the world—make the lives in the world greater lives. Thus, I fight not only for myself but the world, which strengthens and energizes my quest in all areas, maximizing the output—and conclusion."

Hama leaned back as Piandao's gaze seemed to consume her in its intensity. "That seems to be the only solution," she said. "Vengeance is enough for me—I love vengeance. But it's not enough for you."

"Because it would doom me," Piandao observed, thoughtful. "The Avatar did not focus on vengeance, which resulted in his triumph; I must reflect his understanding, for he revealed the deepest secret of his immortality and impossible defeat in not focusing on vengeance."

She smiled slightly. "Maybe I can have the vengeance for you while you focus on the world."

A laugh echoed, sharp and dubious. "No, I will have my vengeance, but it will never take precedent over my quest. Now I realize the truth—I do not need my vengeance; I want it, but I do not need it. Because my victory will be enough to satisfy." His golden eyes glimmered with promise down at her. "But that does not mean I will not achieve vengeance when I can. We will each have our vengeance, Hama. You have helped me today and given me the answers I needed. You are more than a waterbending master; you are a kindred spirit. You are someone to keep an eye on." His head tilted, gaze sweeping over her body in judgment. "Our families betrayed us gruesomely, and we each understand what it means—how it feels and motivates. We no longer have families. Does that not make us family to each other?"

Hama shook her head, understanding what he alluded to. "I can promise you that we will never be family," she vowed. "We never have to worry about the betrayal of Family ever again. That is what we can do for each other—ensure Family can never inflict us with such grief again. We won't worry about it ever again."

Piandao laughed; he looked almost fond and curious. "I must worry about so much more with you."

"I and with you. You're Fire."

"Will you kill me one day?" he asked, staring at her with a powerful glint in his eyes that made her pulse accelerate.

"If you're worth killing," Hama responded, trying to keep her voice even. "But you're Vaatu's vessel. How are you worth killing if he chose you, even if you're Fire?"

The slow smile that stretched across Piandao's lips was dangerous, but Hama, to her surprise, felt no fear, anxiety, nervousness, or scorn. She wasn't sure how to feel about her lack of anything but intrigue, enjoyment, and interest. "I am worth everything you can give."

"Can you handle it?"

"You have no idea what I can handle."

Glancing at his missing arm, she had a powerful, vivid idea, but he was not the only one who could handle a lot. "Never forget my age," she warned. "I've lived two lives to your one."

Piandao smirked. "I will give you a third life."

Hama felt an almost breathless expectation burn inside her—she looked forward to it.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"I've thought about this a lot," Bumi said, eyes revealing his age; it matched how Aang felt. "I'm scared. Nothing scares me—not fighting in war, not looking into Sozin's eyes, not meeting Azulon on the battlefield, not even peace if you can believe it. Nothing scares me—except being honest with you, my oldest friend. Really, my only friend. Out of anyone alive, I know you'll get it; I know you'll understand it. But I've never wanted you to look at me differently—to look at me and see the truth. I wish I came out of that fucking war unscathed, but I didn't; I wish I didn't scathe others, but I did. I'm scared to tell you the truth—I'm not sure I know how. I don't give a badgermole's shit about how anyone else looks at me—fuck everyone. But you, my only friend? I care about that—I care about that a lot."

Aang sat across from Bumi in his private study area; it looked nothing like Zuko's in the Fire Nation, like it was rarely used—whereas Zuko's was used all the time. "I'm sorry I looked at you differently after the Iceberg. I know I didn't help."

Bumi's laugh was worn like the breeze. "The Order's fucking gone, and I'm not even worried by it, not really. Maybe it's because I'm old and seen so much—seen too much. But I know it's going to work out somehow—it's the way of the world. It's all about balance, right?"

"It will be restored," he vowed, unsure if he had ever meant it more. "I'll see to it."

"I know you will," Bumi agreed, nodding. "Our legions were vast, but it was inconsequential to Vaatu. But it doesn't worry me. Even if I die before I see it, I know things will work out. I may not like how things work out, but I know things will work out. That's been my experience in this fucking world."

Aang rubbed a hand over his face, reminded of Air's murder—and why it happened. "Mine too."

"I know it is, which is why I know you'll understand what I tell you, but I don't want you to understand. I want you to still think of me as Bumi and not the Fucker of Fire."

He watched the ancient bitterness on Bumi's face and felt sympathy; he recognized so much of it in himself. "I murdered Ba Sing Se," he recalled, withered; it was a weight that would never be known to someone else—because it was his crime alone. "I used to think that I could never do something like that; I used to think I was better than that. But the only thing I wonder now is how I stopped at only Ba Sing Se. How did I not go elsewhere and do the same? Why not the Fire Nation? Why not everyone in this time? And I'm serious—it's a miracle that I didn't do worse. I could have crushed the world. I should have according to what I can do and how I felt. I'm serious."

Bumi stared at him. "I know."

"I've killed so many people; I've ruined lives; I've ruined times; and I've terrified everyone in the world. Nothing you tell me is going to make me look at you like the Fucker of Fire; I don't care about the Fucker of Fire. I care about Bumi, which the Fucker of Fire is part of." A hoarse laugh escaped him, but he felt little amusement. "It's like me and The Avatar. I'm the branch while The Avatar is the trunk, and you're the trunk while the Fucker of Fire is the branch. I'm not going to judge you—I'm sure I've done worse than anything you did."

Silence.

"You name any crime, I committed it," Bumi whispered, swallowing, face cast in resigned agony. "Any sin, I did it. It was fucking war, but you know what it wasn't? It wasn't a war inside me. I did whatever I had to do—whatever I fucking felt like doing because I was so pissed off or invigorated and wanted to take the edge off. There was war all around me but never within me—I made sure of it because I wanted to survive and win the war. I wanted to destroy Fire and thought that whatever cost was necessary was worth it. I made a legend for myself and turned the battlefield into my canvas—and it was blood-soaked. Fire had a reward on my head that would have bankrupted their economy if it was ever paid, which shows that they never thought they would actually kill me."

"Makes sense," he commented, feeling far away. While he accepted that the things that happened were the right things, even if he lacked the intelligence to deduce it, it was still difficult to hear.

Bumi inhaled roughly. "But it wasn't really only Fire. It was actually Earth, too."

"What do you mean?"

He had never seen Bumi, from either before the Great War or during the conflict, seem so somber. "I assassinated my predecessor and his entire family, from uncles to children, not even a few years old—I did it, no matter the cost."

Aang's eyes shut; he leaned back into his seat, wishing he was surprised, but he wasn't. "Why?"

"To keep Earth in the war," Bumi responded, voice heavy. "We were losing, being pushed back. Chyung and Zaofu fell quickly to Sozin and Azulon once Fire really started fighting after about a decade and a half. Azulon was a fucking teenager commanding entire armies, and he swept over the continent on one side while Sozin did the other; Zaofu and Chyung didn't have a chance. And Omashu wasn't doing anything, not like we should have. My predecessor's name was Guron, and he was a cunt—I don't regret killing him, not at all. I regret his family, but I needed to make my claim secure. I was in Omashu's army and rose quickly up the ranks, made a big name for myself. There was even talk of me becoming general. I fought hard and with everything I had, but it was only the fighting that Guron commanded, which didn't help. We weren't doing what we needed to be doing. We were going to get fucked up the ass by Sozin and Azulon if somebody didn't do something, and I decided to be somebody. After we heard about Chyung's collapse, Guron said our approach would stay the same. I lost control and called him every name in the book, and he stripped me of my post. That was the last that I could take. I didn't want to see Omashu fall like everything else—I didn't want us to become like Air. That night, I broke into the palace and killed him and his whole family; I made it quick for all of them, but that didn't change the feeling of what I did. I did something evil—I did many things evil. His wife didn't stop me; his children, so tiny and innocent, didn't stop me. Nothing stopped me from doing what I thought needed to be done. And it's a weight that's been with me ever since. I declared myself king, and no one made too much of a fuss. Sure, there was some minor rebellion and outrage, but it was really just for show. People in Omashu didn't really care who ruled them—because they had shit kings for so many generations and weren't too attached to any of them. But when I became king, that changed everything, and I don't mean that lightly; it changed Earth's trajectory. Before me, we were looking to become Fire's slaves—if they didn't kill us first. But once I took charge, we all pushed Fire back and preserved Omashu and Ba Sing Se. The only reason we survived the Great War was because of my choice. Earth held strong because of me—because there was no one else willing to be somebody. I made sure that everyone of Fire knew me—or knew of me. And those that didn't, I terrorized and tortured; I committed gruesome deeds in the rush of fighting and during its clean-up. I made sure I had fun; I made sure that my men had fun; I made sure we all got the vengeance we were owed, and it didn't matter that it wasn't Sozin or Azulon before us. It just mattered that it was a man of Fire—or a woman of Fire. Fire quickly stopped sending their women into the battles because of the atrocities. Never made any sense to begin with, not in the Great War."

Aang remembered his observations back in the past and recalled what Gyatso taught him. "Fire never wanted it to be a Great War; they didn't want the war—it was forced on them because Earth wanted it. Specifically, the Earth Kings wanted it. Then the South joined after that—never the North."

Bumi glanced at him with a slow twist of his neck, brows pinched. "I know you weren't around- "

"It's the truth," he defended gently, knowing that Bumi was in no position to understand the full truth of what happened. He stared at Bumi's withered face and knew instinctively that, out of anyone to ever live since his birth, he couldn't handle it. "I studied it and learned what happened; I learned about my race's role in it."

"Meaning what?" Bumi asked, voice stoic and tight.

Aang exhaled roughly. "We weren't victims of Sozin; we were victims of ourselves, of the choices we made for so many generations. We taxed Fire extensively for centuries, demanding tribute for a crime one of the Fire Lords—Fire Lord Houka—committed against us centuries ago, and we were cruel. Sozin wanted out, and we refused. It culminated in the Attack. And it wasn't only Fire that hated us; Water hated us more than Fire did, and anyone of Earth who encountered us hated us. Nobody missed us, not really. We became a legend for the Earth Kings, who weaponized our demise, which was our fault and no one else's, as a rallying cry to attack Fire, against whom they wanted revenge for Sozin's invasion decades earlier. But Sozin's invasion of Earth was directly because we refused to end the tributes. Sozin did what he did not out of spite but out of a sense of survival for Fire during famines."

Bumi leaned back, speechless, fingers pressed against his parted lips. He stood up, standing next to the window that overlooked the area surrounding Ba Sing Se's palace. "Well, I guess that makes sense. No one's perfect; no one's virtuous; no one's pure; no one's good. We're all fucking monsters at our core. We know it better than anyone."

"We do," he agreed, watching him carefully.

A croaked laugh echoed. "This whole time, I've been jumping at shadows, thinking Air was good, but they were just as rotten as the rest of us, weren't they?"

Aang looked down at his hands, eyes tracing his tattoo of mastery. "More rotten at the end," he whispered, recalling everything he had learned; he was never going to forget any of it. "We had it coming, Bumi, and there's no one in the world who hates to say that more than I do, but it's the truth."

Bumi braced himself on the window's ledge, head hanging. "Does anyone even know the truth? If the Great War wasn't to avenge Air, what the fuck was it all for?"

"To strengthen our enemy," he divulged, exhausted. "It was always Vaatu pulling strings at the end of the day. The darkness was always going to rise after the light had reigned for so long. Nothing could stop it, not even me. Believe me, I tried. I couldn't stop it. There were no good sides in the Great War, not at all; we were all just players, playing to Vaatu's rhythm. It was inevitable and undeniable. Sozin wasn't the monster—no one was. The events that happened were the best events in an impossible situation- "

"Don't say that," Bumi said lowly, voice nearing a hiss in its intensity. "I looked into Sozin's eyes. I know what a monster is because I met him."

Aang stared at Bumi, eyes crinkling in sadness. "I'm sorry, Bumi; I'm sorry that was your life; I'm sorry you were faced with such horror and grief; I'm sorry you were desperate enough to do what you did and become the Fucker of Fire; and I'm sorry you never knew the truth and fought for a lie. I know how painful the truth is."

Silence.

Bumi kept his gaze out the window overlooking Ba Sing Se; it provided a nice vantage with its prominent height. "I went to the Southern Air Temple after it happened," he said softly, voice almost trembling. "I saw it—the carnage and death everywhere. You can't tell me—you can't—that it wasn't Sozin's fault."

He wished to tell Bumi about his trip to see Gyatso again and living the Attack, but he couldn't; he knew it would destroy Bumi, and he didn't want to destroy Bumi. "I didn't want to believe it, either," he confessed. "Believe me, I didn't want to believe it. I killed people rather than believed it. I killed the messengers of truth rather than listened to them. I get it—I do. You don't have to believe it now; you can live the rest of your life not believing it. That's okay. The only one who needs to believe it is me—Azula and our children. And you know what? I do believe it. I understand it."

"Why did Roku die?"

Aang blinked, surprised by the question. "What?"

Bumi snorted. "You heard me."

"He aged very quickly, especially for The Avatar- "

"I know that," Bumi barked, clearly frustrated. "Avatars live long lives, longer than the strongest benders in history, for entire generations as your children's children's children's children all know the same Avatar. My uncle—my mother's brother—was his earthbending instructor, and my father was part of the Order. I know all of it."

"His son's death aged him decades in days," he explained, understanding Bumi's anger. "He should have reigned for much longer, but he didn't; he was ready to die when his island's volcano erupted. He could have fought it, found healing for himself and held on, but he was tired; he was ready to die and leave the burden to me—again."

"Sozin had nothing to do with it?"

His brows rose in disbelief. "How do you know Sozin was there?"

The stone wall cracked as Bumi's fingers tightened across the window's ledge. "When I met Sozin, he told me that The Avatar couldn't stop him and chose to let him live when he should have killed him; he said that if The Avatar died trying to stop him, the same would happen to an upstart captain of Earth."

"Did he say Roku?"

"I put it together."

Aang's eyes closed briefly as he realized that Sozin, likely, was referring to Aang himself instead of Roku and probably thought, hopefully so, that his disappearance after cursing him was a sign of his demise. "Sozin was there when Roku died," he divulged, "but it was always going to happen. Sozin didn't kill Roku; he left him to die, and Roku let himself die—he didn't fight it or get himself healing like he could have done, like I know he could have done. Roku could have stopped that volcano himself, but he was tired; he was old—he was ready for death."

Bumi laughed, sounding almost hysterical. "I think murdering Ba Sing Se fucked up your senses all around."

"Sozin's to blame, but he's not at fault," Aang defended, wondering what the world had come to. He was actually defending Sozin. It seemed unthinkable, but it was happening—because it needed to happen. "If it wasn't Sozin, it would have been someone else. I say this as The Avatar—this was always going to happen, Bumi. I know what I'm talking about—you know I do. I know you're used to knowing more than anyone because you're always the oldest one in the room, but you don't know what you think you do about all of this. This is much more complicated and messy than you ever thought."

"Why did you vanish?"

Aang inhaled roughly at the brusque question but understood its origin. "There was a storm- "

Bumi glanced back at him, irritated. "I didn't ask how you vanished; I asked why you vanished. Don't give me any badgermole shit."

He couldn't tell Bumi the truth about trapping the Boy—himself—at the bottom of the ocean, but he could be real with him. "Because I would have destroyed the world. My race's murder would be too fresh not only in my mind but the world's mind—in the social and public consciousness, which would slam against me everywhere I went, maddening me. Everyone would be talking about it, whether if it was a good thing or a bad thing. It would keep my mind on it; it would keep it alive within me, making me dwell on and obsess over it. And it would make me hateful to behold to everyone who looked at me, including you, because I would annihilate Fire- "

"I would praise you for doing that- "

"Before you condemned me for doing the same to Earth," Aang said flatly, staring at him, unimpressed. "Because I would annihilate Earth and Water afterwards in hatred. How dare they live in a world without Air? How dare they be here when my race isn't? How dare they look me in the eye and judge me? How dare they speak about my race as if they knew them? How dare they be so presumptuous and proclaim they are avenging my race when the only one who deserves—who has the right—to avenge Air is me? How dare they tell me I must revive my race when they don't even know what that means? How dare they talk about like they knew my race when they don't know our beliefs, ethics, practices, customs, wisdom, history, traditions, and culture? How dare they look to me, a child—a boy in horrified grief—to end a war of hatred and retribution when no one is more hateful or retributive than me? How dare they ask me to stop what they are too pathetic to stop themselves? How dare they ask me to be strong when they are all so stupidly weak? How dare they be so evil as to live in a world without Air?" The words he wrote to Gyatso pulsed in his mind in memory, and he recited them, staring into Bumi's eyes: "'Why else would the Great War last for so long if they didn't actually enjoy it, deep down? Why else would the Great War last for so long if they didn't anticipate the blood spraying against their flesh in a warm mist? Why else would the Great War last for so long if they didn't look forward to seeing their enemies on a field of blood-soaked land? Why else would the Great War last for so long if they didn't relish conquering others? Why else would the Great War last for so long if they didn't find pleasure in making half-spawns with women who hated them and the half-spawns forced on them? Why else would the Great War last for so long if they didn't disagree with its aims and objectives? Why else would the Great War last for so long if they didn't care about solving problems and finding solutions to the plights evoked? Why else would the Great War last for so long if they didn't ignore Air's higher teachings because they hated Air's higher teachings, searching for the thrill of slaughter and rape? There's only one explanation—they're in love with spilling blood and raping and murdering each other, even for a century straight. They are savages. It's said that Sozin claimed he was spreading civilization, but all he did was reinforce Fire, Earth, and Water's primitive and uncivilized states, enslaved to War. That's all he did. Water worships fighting, Earth rewards it, and Fire honors it. What's wrong with all of them? What do they know about Life and Death? What do they know about wisdom? What do they know about nature? What do they know about intelligence? What do they know about willpower? What do they know about grief? What do they know about loss? What do they know about spirituality? What do they know about meditation? What do they know about restraint and serenity? What do they know about ethics? What do they know about freedom? What do they know about truth? What do they know about anything but war?' Why shouldn't I give all these other stupid races death like it was given to my race? My race was perfect and was murdered. Why shouldn't I balance things out? Why not? It'd be so easy to do it. All I would have to do is snap."

Bumi swallowed, face pale. "Sounds to me like you already thought those things."

Aang exhaled and curled his fingers into fists and uncurled them as he thought about his raw letter to Gyatso. "I did. Believe me, I did. The only reason I stopped the Great War was because I wasn't thinking about Air's murder—I couldn't afford to. But more importantly, there was no one actively reminding me of it, talking about it, giving life to it or anything. The only thing that reminded me was the fact that no one I met looked like me or acted like me, but I didn't have time to focus on it because I was distracted powerfully by what I needed to do. You wonder why I wasn't a man when I returned or why I went into the Iceberg. Because if I was a man or never went into the Iceberg, what I did to Ba Sing Se I would do to everyone in my wrath—maybe even you, who I would have held in lesser regard than my race. I'm capable of more cruelty and atrocity than you can imagine. Every crime you alluded to, even the ones you refuse to name forever, I'm capable of all those on a scale much more vast and horrifying. That's why I vanished—to keep all of that from happening."

Silence.

"Maybe it is a good thing you vanished," Bumi whispered, stunned; his face was slack with shock.

Aang nodded. "There's no 'maybe' to it. And I can make that judgment more than anyone—I really can."

Bumi slowly sat back down, rubbing his face. "I don't know what to believe anymore. Is Vaatu even our enemy?"

"He is," he confirmed. "I know it's a lot."

"Maybe it makes sense," Bumi admitted hoarsely, and Aang knew that was the closest Bumi would come to accepting it—for now. "No wonder we've always been friends—we're both assholes."

Aang cracked a small smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "Something tells me we've both paid for it."

"I paid for my crimes," Bumi agreed, face haggard. "I paid for my sins; I pay for them every day. All my children died in the War."

His face pinched in sorrow. "I'm sorry, Bumi."

Bumi sighed. "Most of the mothers were whores; others were women I laid with one night; others were some noblewomen. I had a lot of children—seventeen in total."

Aang blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Seventeen—possibly more, but I never heard of any others. Since bending came from the blood, I wanted to sire strong earthbending children who would help me and the rest of the world defeat Fire. It wasn't just for my pleasure. Okay, the majority of it was for my pleasure, but it wasn't the whole thing. Maybe five percent of it was to have strong children to beat Fire."

"Something tells me it was closer to one percent."

Bumi shrugged. "Maybe you're right.

He had to admit that Bumi's idea had merit; he had just never suspected that his old friend would try to do such a thing. "I assume that the Sages were livid."

Bumi nodded. "More than you could imagine. There was some fighting, but I just told them to 'fuck off' because I had bigger things to worry about. Never liked the Sages—always sat on their asses, never doing anything, refusing to fight in the Great War. I told them to stick their faces in a mound of badgermole shit. They thought that bending came from the spirits, but that's insane. Otherwise, an Earthbender would sire a Firebender. Instead, it's always an Earthbender siring an Earthbender. It comes from the blood."

Aang sighed. "You were both right. It is through the blood, but the only way it's through the blood is because the spirits—the very Elemental of your race—made it that way, blessing your ancestors to be attuned with earthbending's energy. But yes, it is blood."

"Exactly. But all my children died, either fighting in the War or from Omashu's polluted water supply; some fell sick to other diseases and died. But all of them died in time. The only two to live to adulthood and produce children were my son, Sheil, and my daughter, Lira. Sheil was Anju's father, and Lira was Bor's mother. Sheil was strong in earthbending. I don't think he would have rivaled me, but he would have been one of the best; Lira was an Earthbender, but she was average. Sheil was ambitious, like me, seeking to destroy Fire. When Anju and Bor were children, Sheil approached me with a plan to retake Zaofu with Fire starting to focus more on Ba Sing Se. I agreed. At this point, Zaofu was ruled by a puppet under the control of a governor. We planned to go to the city to find the puppet and convince him to overthrow the governor. To sweeten our proposal, I was going to bring Lira along as a possible bride for him. Her husband had died just before that, and I wanted to take her mind off him—maybe that was the wrong way to do it. I'll never know. But Sheil, Lira, and I, along with a squadron of soldiers, began the journey to Zaofu."

He saw the expression on Bumi's face and shook his head. "You don't have to tell me- "

"I do, for as much your sake as mine," Bumi whispered, voice rough but slow. "Several days into our travels, we set up a camp; there were no warnings. Nothing seemed off. My platoon of soldiers sensed nothing and neither did I, and just when I was about to sleep, we were ambushed in a deadly attack. Through the foliage of darkness, men appeared and danced through our attacks, disappearing through the ground like smoke and reappearing behind my soldiers, snapping their necks like twigs. There were only four attackers in total and while I had well over a dozen soldiers, they were insignificant; these were deadly enemies, all organized and had clearly fought together before. They knew where each other were. I managed to kill two of them while Sheil killed one, but as a result, he got distracted, and there was till one left." Aang closed his eyes in sorrow, understanding what had happened before Bumi could finish. "I watched as my son and heir, my pride and joy, was murdered before my eyes, and I was helpless to prevent it. The Butcher took my last son from me. Lira screamed, and I wept—but attacked. He was powerful—the strongest Earthbender I've ever fought by far. He screamed at me, said I killed his brothers, and I just screamed back without words. All my soldiers were dead, and it was just me and him—and Lira. Lira tried to help fight him, but she just got in the way, and I shoved her away. I wanted her away from the Butcher. I never saw his face, not really; it was too dark. There was no light except for the Moon—until there was a sudden light that changed everything. And I saw his face—his eyes—for that moment. I'm never going to forget his eyes or what his face looked like before I ruined it."

He frowned. "Did he bring the governor's forces or something- "

"The Butcher unleashed lava at me, changing the earth into lava, bringing light into the darkness," Bumi explained, and Aang just listened, too surprised to interrupt in question. "I couldn't react—I didn't know how to react or defend myself against it. Never before had I ever encountered, or even heard of, lavabending, but it exists—I bear the scars to prove it. He threw lava at me, and I was too stunned to react—it was impossible. But it happened. The lava swept me off my feet, scorching my skin, maiming me, and I blacked out." The floor rumbled beneath Bumi's feet in ominous warning. "The Butcher is Bor's father."

Aang tensed in realization, discerning the origin of Bor's birth, and brought a hand to his forehead. "I'm so sorry."

Bumi patted his thighs, bitter, with clenched fists; there was a visceral hatred etched into his face, a hatred that Aang recognized. "All because my fucking legs couldn't take it. The Butcher took advantage while I was blacked out. Lira was defenseless and couldn't stop him; she was vulnerable. He raped her while I was blacked out and was about to kill her before I woke up, saw him on top of her with her garments torn up, realized what happened, and summoned all my strength. I threw him off her, slashed his face with stone daggers, deep enough to puncture his brain, and launched him into the distance as far as I could, but then I collapsed from the pain; I couldn't go after him to make sure I killed him—that my daggers went deep enough." Bumi rubbed a hand across his face, exhausted and haggard. "Lira helped me back to Omashu and nursed me back to health from the fever that happened after. I almost died from it; the infections were bad—and so was the maiming. That's why I walk like I'm twice my age. I should walk around completely fine, but the lava took that from me. By focusing on my chi, I can stop the pain when I fight, but it doesn't last for long—it lasts less and less as I age. The healers were amazed that I could walk at all and that I hadn't died from the pain. But it was Lira that got me through the fever because I knew she needed me—and Anju, Sheil's infant daughter, whose mother had died in childbirth. When I recovered, Lira wouldn't talk to me; she became lost in her mind. And that's when I learned she was pregnant—when I threatened to shit in one of the healer's asses if she didn't tell me. Lira never told me the child wasn't her husband's since it was still a possibility as he had only died weeks before the Butcher. But she still wouldn't talk to me, not really; she would talk about other things, but never about that. I think she was hoping the child was her husband's—I think she put all her faith into it." Bumi took a long drink from his goblet, which Aang hoped held some firewhiskey or something—or whatever was Earth's equivalent to it. "But then Bor was born one night, and she killed herself that same night after he was born—after seeing Bor's face and recognizing his parentage. She didn't even live long enough to name him; I had to do that."

"I'm sorry, Bumi," Aang whispered, knowing there wasn't anything else he could say.

Bumi didn't seem to hear him. "I have to live with that every day, wondering if my grandson will become like his father—or like me. Because I realized I'm no better than the Butcher; maybe I'm worse." He downed the rest of his goblet's contents. "Believe me, Aang, I've paid for crimes and sins. I know what I've done, and I was once proud of it all when I was young, but now I know shame and remorse. But it's going to stay with me; it's not going to pass to Anju and Bor—I won't let it."

Aang stretched his senses to ensure there was no one around. "Does anyone know about Bor's parentage?"

"No one but you," Bumi replied, watching him. "I've never said the words aloud till now."

He understood the weight of the gesture and inclined his head. "I'll never speak of it. I'm sorry it happened—I really am. I'm so sorry."

Bumi nodded, looking into the distance. "I don't want him to know—I never want him to know. But I also know that I can't control what he knows forever. I'm half-convinced that if Toph found out about his parentage, she'd tell him just to spite me."

Aang shook his head in disbelief, recognizing the subtle request to change the subject, which he accepted gladly. "What happened between you two? I know she stayed with you in Omashu for a long time, and I'm guessing that she and Bor were pretty close."

That would explain the awkwardness.

A snort echoed. "She agreed to marry him before she was a cunt and left that night—after knocking Bor out so he couldn't stop her. Yeah, pretty fucking close."

He absorbed that information and felt minimal surprise, partly due to the way that Azula had been observing Bor and Toph when they were in the same room—paying particular attention, devoting her energy to it. That let him know more than anything else that something was amiss. "What about you and her?"

Bumi waved a hand. "She found out about me killing my predecessor and his family. She was pissed about it and confronted me about it—basically said I was a worthless shit and that she was going to tell Bor. Even when I told her not to, tried to explain it to her, she was stubborn. That's when I attacked her to stop it from happening. I was out for blood, even though I didn't actually want to kill her. But I didn't hold back. I scared the piss out of her—literally. She pissed herself when I threatened to chop off her hands, feet, and breasts."

Aang stared at Bumi, aghast. "Why would you say that?"

Bumi stared back at him. "Fucker of Fire. She pissed me off. I wanted to protect Bor. She was going to ruin everything. Take your pick."

He sighed, visualizing so clearly how it happened. "Maybe she'll understand if you talk to her."

"I've already told her; she has to listen. For an Earthbender, she's a shit listener."

Aang thought of his conversation with Gyatso. "Me too. Just give her time. It's what it took with me."

Bumi looked solemn. "We don't have time, not with Vaatu; we've given him way too much time."

"I know," he agreed. "But it can't get worse than it has been. We've already reached the lowest point; we can only ascend from here."

"I hope you're right."

"I am right," Aang assured.

After all, what could be worse than Air's murder and the Great War, including everything to happen after the Great War, such as Ba Sing Se's murder?

Bumi smiled slightly. "Good."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Well, that's all for this chapter, everyone. I hope you all enjoyed it, and please, remember to leave a review, whether it be positive or negative, I really appreciate it.

**Zhao returns and joins Vaatu, Ozai, Chin v and the Children of Chin, and Hama! He reveals the location of the Ocean and the Moon's mortal forms in return for his freedom. Now, Vaatu and Ozai know the location and know where they can gain more crucial allies to destroy The Avatar. The only other Elemental location they need is Indra—the Air Spirit—now.

Shout-out to gaara king of the sand who gave me the idea to have Zhao back in the story. For Zhao's punishment, the Moon keeps him alive while the Ocean always brings him to the brink of death over and over again with the rising tides (because he's trapped in the sand). It's torture, and there is no reprieve for him. I honestly hated what the Legend of Korra did with Zhao. The Fog of Lost Souls seems much too lenient. The Ocean Spirit is one of the Major Spirits in Avatar, one of the Elementals. His sister was murdered by a human, and I feel like La, the Ocean Spirit would want a personal hand in Zhao's punishment. Needless to say, in the world of Avatar, don't EVER piss off a spirit.

**Chin V discovers Ozai's identity but has no evidence. Instead, he begins a long play to try to make Vaatu perceive him as the worthier vessel, and his sister is his great helper in his new quest.

**The Gaang (inflated with Azula, Ursa, Mai, and Ty Lee now) discuss options with Bumi on how to handle obtaining allies.

**Hama and Ozai reach a further understanding and, against all odds, bond over their hatred of Azulon (because Azulon's the one who led the assault against the South that led to Hama's capture and imprisonment). Hama has been willing to work with Ozai—or, rather, 'Piandao'—to get vengeance on Katara for the betrayal of Family, but now that she gets to know Ozai better, she finds that she actually tolerates him and even enjoys his company, even though she still feels a sense of danger. She starts to see him as a friend instead of simply an ally, and Ozai begins to experience the same thing because Hama helps him/heals him and gives him good advice.

**Bumi and Aang seriously discuss things. I've always enjoyed the concept of Bumi's character, a personal friend to Aang who lived through the entire Great War. He saw, firsthand, the true horrors of battle and was, subsequently, scarred by those experiences. He opens up to Aang about his life and reveals some critical details while Aang also reveals critical details to Bumi, as well, such as the truth of Air's role in the Great War and about Sozin.

Well, I think that's everything. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please, leave a review and tell me what you think! I'd really appreciate it!

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