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

Thanks for the feedback, everyone. I really appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender

XxXxXxXxXxX

Ozai focused and tried to do as Hama had commanded but he could not feel it, whatever it was! He felt the power inside him, the power of water, but it was the opposite of what he was used to! He was a Firebender, not a Waterbender. How was he supposed to be able to battle The Avatar without all the Elements? How had The Avatar triumphed over this for all his lifetimes?

The thought of The Avatar being more skilled and able enraged him; his eyes snapped open. "I feel nothing. I feel the energy inside me, that flowing power, but there is nothing to connect to."

Hama only nodded. "It will take time. It's the opposite element of the first you understood, and you have to change your mindset. This may be the hardest one you have to learn. You have to practice. You must feel the pull."

Ozai grit his teeth, almost trying to control Hama's body as he had seen her do to Chin V out of his frustration, but he did not bother; he felt no true instinct to harm her as he was very fond of her—and he would be unable to, as well. "What pull?" he asked, stepping closer. "I need specifics. What do you mean by the pull?" He brushed his fingers along the swell of her breasts and stared into her blue eyes. "Do you refer to the pull between us?"

She smiled slightly, amused. "If only. You have already felt that pull."

"I feel it now. If only that were the pull—I could master waterbending in a day."

"Only a day?" she challenged, eyebrows rising.

Ozai's lips stretched; he liked her. "Many days," he corrected. "If only, indeed. What is the pull to which you refer?"

"The first element that you learned and mastered was fire, and your blood is Fire. Water is its opposite and because of it, I believe that your initial struggle with feeling the pull is understandable."

"But the pull—what is it?"

Hama was quiet for several moments, clearly trying to discern the proper explanation. "I think it's similar to your firebending. As you have said in the past, a Firebender draws upon the energy within himself, energy that's provided by Agni's light. That's what you're used to. With earthbending, you still have a direct connection to what you're drawing upon because your body's connected to it. And while I'm no Airbender, it seems obvious that he controls the ubiquitous air and always feels it because it's always around him, everywhere. With waterbending, it's different. A Waterbender draws his power and energy from the Moon. Our waterbending is strongest during the night, especially during a Full Moon. You have to grasp that connection, something that's foreign to you because you have always looked within yourself or felt it surrounding you."

Ozai frowned, starting to understand that waterbending would be difficult—at least, at first. "And the pull?"

"I'm talking about the pull of the Moon," she answered, staring up at him. "I feel it right now. I feel it even when it's in the middle of the day. We do this now, in the middle of the night, so you can feel the pull and become aware of it—because it's part of you. You must become connected to the pull. It's the only way you will be a master."

"And the only way to become a Bloodbender."

Hama nodded and motioned for him to follow her, and he did so. They stopped at the shoreline to the coast of the lake, where she turned to face him. "Step into the water and immerse yourself in the element. Feel it touch every part of your body, caressing you in ways that surpass any lover."

Ozai's brows rose. "I see I failed in my endeavor."

She smirked and shook her head. "You succeeded. But this is different. You must feel the Moon; feel its energy, and feel your body react to it. Let it flow through your chi as you begin to control it."

He clenched his fists and inhaled slowly; he entered the water and dunked himself. When he burst back up, he blinked the liquid away and followed Hama's directions. As he had done before countless times ever since he could remember, he centered himself, but instead of searching for his inner flame, provided by Agni, he sought out the Moon. Without his input, his eyes shut as he felt the energy around him, how the water lapped against his body gently, never still. In time, he fell into a daze as his body began to rock in time to the water; it was a push and pull relationship, and Ozai intimately began to understand. It was a rhythm in which one push could not exist without one pull. If the Moon acted as the pull, he needed to act as the push in a balanced counterpoint.

"Good," Hama commended, voice reaching him, but it was far away; it barely pierced through his daze. "Focus your chi on the water around you. Feel it. Once you feel it, grab the connection; guide it, and it will follow you. You will never have a better friend than Water."

Ozai followed her instructions, and at first, he felt nothing change, but then the water stopped lapping against his body for a brief moment before it resumed. Slowly, his eyes opened, and there before him, water moved in the air, following the movements that he had been unaware that his arms were making. He had done it; he was a Waterbender.

He was closer to becoming his own Avatar!

Hama clapped in praise, and he snapped out of his stupor; she peered out at him with contentment. "You're a quick learner. I thought you would take days to grab the connection."

Turning back to her, he ascended to the shoreline where she stood; the water seemed to part for him. "I had excellent motivation—and a worthy master."

Her lips quirked upward in a strange smile; her blue eyes roamed his face. "Your tongue is dangerous; you're a master at using it."

Ozai smirked. "I can show you how I have mastered my tongue."

"You already did so."

"A preview," he dismissed. "There is much more mastery for you to experience."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Ozai recalled the many promises he had made in his life, to others and himself. The only one he ever broke was to Father with his banishment after undermining Iroh's birthright, but Ursa had saved him from ruin—at the cost of herself. It infuriated him that she still left after murdering Father, but he believed he understood the reasons. It still infuriated him, but he understood it, which lessened his fury, though it still burned and gnawed at him. When he saw Ursa again—he would see her again!—there would be a reckoning. He will demand answers and confirmation, but he still loved her. They would resume their marriage from the grotesque interruption she enforced on it.

But he had no idea when he would see Ursa again, only that he would see her again. Yet, he vowed to himself—another promise!—that he would be with her again. She would stand by his side as she was always meant to, and they would reign a glorious age—as they had promised each other in sweet whispers all those years ago when they first married.

"I always keep my promises, Hama," he replied, staring at her, ensuring she saw the seriousness on his face. "I mean each I make."

"Were you serious in wanting me to be the ruler of my race? Was that a promise?"

Ozai's brows rose in surprise but nodded. "I was—I am. I will promise it to you. Working to become my own Avatar, I have learned that all the Races are necessary fundamental—somehow. I do not know how each is necessary, but I know each is. I have realized that you cannot have Fire without Earth, Water, and Air—and the same for the others. It is all connected—I realize it now. I once derided the other Races, and part of me certainly does and always will, but I realize their necessity. Things are more complicated than I thought."

Hama stared up at him, giving nothing away, which was impressive. "Why still deride them?"

"They lack power," he answered. "If I was born to any of the other Races, I would not be me and be unable to pursue my rightful ambition. Only a Firebender—only a man born of Agni's seed—can become another Avatar to challenge The Avatar; only a Firebender has the innate aggression and power to challenge The Avatar's tyranny. The other Races do not understand it, for they have no capacity for it. Can you name a single great man from the other Races?"

Amusement danced across her face. "Chin the Conqueror."

Ozai smirked. "Too bad his inheritors were not worthy of their inheritance. I am worthy of mine. Can you name another great man from the other Races? What about your race? What great man, besides The Avatar, has ever been born to Water?"

Hama frowned, face pinching. "When I moved to the South, there was a Chief there named Chief Kuhna. He was a great man because he rebelled against Fire."

"But what difference did he make?" Ozai challenged, recognizing the name. "What real difference did he make? Water was still conquered, and Azulon killed Chief Kuhna—and a generation later, killed Chief Kuhna's son, Chief Hada. Chief Kuhna's greatness could not prevent it, whereas Sozin's greatness prevented Fire's enslavement by Air. Chief Kuhna made no difference; in the end, everything he did was for naught. Fire won. Sozin and Azulon's greatness was greater than Chief Kuhna and Chief Hada's greatness. They tried to emulate Sozin and Azulon, but they failed; they simply delayed the inevitable and died because of it—because the true greatness lies in Fire."

She shook her head, stubborn, but there was a wavering hesitance in her blue eyes that notified him that he was reaching her intelligence. "There are stories of Chief Karnok, who ruled in the North so brutally that all the communities there became one in one capital city. He unified everyone in the North by using violence. I hate him and the thought of him, but that seems to be your measurement of greatness."

Ozai laughed at the simplistic assessment. "The violence is a symptom, not the cause; it is a response, not the action, Hama. Is that not what Chin the Conqueror did? Yet you admit his greatness and recognize it. You recognize, on some level, that what Karnok accomplished was great because you recognize the same in Chin the Conqueror. A great man, from Sozin to Karnok, has intelligence, ambition, and will to implement and execute a scheme to realize the world the way he wants it. Perhaps he sees a problem—possibly many problems—and seeks to solve it with his solution, which requires greatness. To change anything, least of all something immersed for decades or centuries, you must be great—and have the intelligence, ambition, and will to be great. Greatness requires delayed morality in which you must delay your emotional response to anything you experience, feel, hear, or see." He recalled Chin V's story of his foremother, Avatar Kyoshi, who was great for a certain time with her husband, Chin the Conqueror, until her delayed morality hastened, which culminated in her husband's downfall—and her own sorrow and heartbreak for the rest of her miserable life. "That is why a great man is exceptionally rare. Most are incapable of it. Most cannot understand greatness at all, lacking either the intelligence or the honesty. Yet there are even more who do not understand the will for greatness—the will to be great, that powerful ambition. You must demand of yourself to never be a failure. The Avatar understands this—he has always understood it, even when failures like Kyoshi squander it but still win because of the inheritance received from The Avatar. From what Vaatu shared, The Avatar in his first life, when he underwent the Ascension, was a Firebender—born of Fire and, thus, Power, which means greatness. Only Fire produces men who are truly great. The other Races do not. Even when The Avatar is born amongst the other Races, suggesting the other Races can be great, it rings hollow because The Avatar only became The Avatar because he had the will and greatness of a Firebender—he was a Firebender in his first lifetime, making all his other lifetimes, with all the greatness of each, possible. The other Races are without greatness and can never produce it—not real, true greatness. Only I have greatness—because I am of Fire—and will do as The Avatar, born originally a Firebender, and undergo the Ascension. I will change the world became I am of Fire—that is the source of my greatness. It lurks in my blood, passed down from all those before me—and I am the ultimate inheritor. The other Races are ignorant forever of it."

She was quiet for a long time, clearly absorbing everything he said. "You still deride the other Races despite understanding why they are necessary."

"I deride them because it will always fall to Fire to be great," he explained. "The responsibility is always ours. It will never be Earth; it will never be Water; and it will not be Air—because it has never been the other Races before. It is always us. It will always be us cleaning up messes and putting things in order. It is exhausting to be great—I will admit it. But there is so much glory. The other Races will never know glory. Thus, they can never speak of Fire like they understand us because we know glory while they lack all understanding of it—because they will never have greatness, which is the precursor to glory."

"Do you deride me?"

Ozai brushed his fingers against her breasts, stretching her garb's fabric. "I take no satisfaction in what you are, but I take satisfaction in you—in who you are, perhaps. Does that make sense?"

Hama's blue eyes shone with understanding. "That's how I feel about you."

"Because I am of Fire."

"Yes."

"I think you can rule your race," he commended, honest. "You hold power and a tenacious will. Though I understand you may not accept, I think there is no one better to rule Water than you."

Hama's head tilted, blue eyes roaming him like water, and its impact felt like the waves on his flesh. "And I would be your vassal, right?"

Ozai saw no reason to deceive her. "Yes. I would trust you to rule in my stead."

"I need to think about it."

That was a promising sign—lessening her outright, bold rejection she made previously into a ruminating consideration. "Then think about it."

Hama smiled and stepped closer, bringing their bodies together, touching. "I'll think of something else now—the pull between us. Consider it a reward. Wouldn't a teacher assign goals for her student to complete? And I'm an excellent teacher."

"Much better than Chin V," he agreed with amusement and promise.

He had many promises to keep—and would see each fulfilled. Such was his greatness, attested to by his intelligence, ambition, and will—all hallmarks of those before him. But he would be the greatest out of any of them, even greater than Sozin, as he would become his own Avatar.

It was inevitable.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Toph patted gently in different areas, accounting for the light beginnings of a swell, feeling the unbelievably rapid heartbeat, so fast that it was impossible to distinguish between each beat—just a constant presence, invigorated with life. "I swear this kid's going to be more energetic than Twinkletoes ever was."

She shuddered to think about what Aang was like as a child because something told her he was beyond imagining, even more energetic and hyper than Samir.

Suki's relief was just as powerful as it was every day she confirmed the prognosis. "Thank you."

"The heartbeat is strong," she continued in disbelief. The heartbeat was almost too strong, beating with too much power and bravado, and it almost made her paranoid that she was missing something, but all the evidence before her was that the kid was just extra healthy and energetic.

And it was Sokka's kid, so it made sense.

"That makes my heart beat easier," Suki said, and Toph felt the truth register as Suki's heartbeat was smooth and steady, not chaotic or rushed or scared.

Toph finally removed her hand and found that she missed the contact; there was something fascinating about feeling that kid's powerful heartbeat, vibrations pulsing so strongly that she felt the vibrations herself. "And mine," she muttered. "I know it's literally not as much as you, but I want this kid to be just as healthy and strong as you do."

"You're a good friend, Toph," Suki commended, grateful. "When you go through this, if you do, I'll be there for you like you've been there for me if you need me to be."

She had thought about having children before, specifically after Bor had proposed and she had accepted in panic, but what she had imagined then was a terror that haunted her—because she thought she would end up exactly like her parents as Bor was going to trap her, which would end up with her doing the same thing to her children. She would trap them under having a resentful, bitter, controlling mother—or, maybe worse, a mother who didn't give a damn and let them run wild and free with no stability, which was the opposite of what Earth embraced and endorsed.

But since Suki had gotten pregnant, trusting her with the secret, she was able to imagine something different. She could see the good in it—the actual possibility of it happening and maybe, just maybe, having success.

It was a long way off for her if it ever happened, but it was no longer a strict impossibility—it was a warm possibility if things worked out well.

"I'll keep that in mind," Toph replied. "But I wouldn't trust Snoozles anywhere near my kids."

Suki laughed. "He'd probably say the same thing about you."

She shuddered. "My kids' first words would be the start of bad jokes."

"He's not that bad," Suki defended in amusement.

"And he'd probably teach them that meat is better than my breastmilk or something."

"No, he wouldn't- "

"He'd tell them that he's the smartest guy they'll ever meet."

Suki nodded. "Okay, that one's probably true."

"Of course, it is!"

"I'd think you two were plotting something if I didn't know better."

She cringed at the familiar voice that echoed suddenly behind her, resenting how Bumi could sneak up on her—like he always had been able to. There was some kind of trick that he clearly knew, and she knew that he was consciously doing it as there were some times when he didn't sneak up on her—because he purposefully let himself be sensed. It was aggravating, and she never knew how he did it; she never tried asking him, wanting to figure it out on her own, but it had been years, and she was no closer to realizing the trick. Was he lowering his heartbeat and diminishing his vibrations by using his earthbending somehow? It was the only thing that possibly made sense to her, but she had no fucking clue how he was capable of doing it.

"I'm plotting now," she snarked. "Go bother someone else."

Unfortunately, Bumi was immune to her threats—always had been—as he lumbered forward, staring at Suki. "If you want a doctor, I'll get you one. He'll keep his mouth shut if you want."

Toph blinked in surprise while Suki caressed a hand over her stomach. "Thank you, King Bumi."

"I'm serious. If you need him to be quiet, I'll tell him that I'll shit in his ass if he tells anyone."

Suki took the grotesque image in stride while Toph scoffed. "I bet you'd do a lot more to him."

"I'm not talking to you, Toph," Bumi dismissed, not even looking at her, and she fumed. "I'm talking to the mother-to-be here."

"I'll let you know," Suki said graciously. "Toph says that the baby is healthy and energetic; she says the heartbeat is strong."

Bumi was quiet for several moments, seemingly staring at Suki—probably assessing her. "That's good. There were many pregnancies I watched over. Just let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

"You gonna tell your husband?"

Toph glared at him, making sure to look directly at him. "Shove it up your ass, Bumi."

Bumi cackled. "If only her husband shoved it up her ass, you wouldn't have to be carrying on with all this secrecy."

Before she could throw a boulder or something at him, Suki held up a hand. "I appreciate your concern, King Bumi, but I want to wait to tell him. I appreciate your discretion."

"You don't have to worry," Bumi assured, confident. "Believe me, I know how to keep a secret."

Toph almost flinched at the reminder of how well of a secret-keeper Bumi was; the secret of his murder of Guron and his family was unknown by anyone besides Bumi, Bor, and herself. "You certainly do," she muttered. "Now if you don't mind, Suki and I have to- "

"I was looking for you, Toph."

Sweat broke out on her forehead, and her heart raced so quickly that she felt dizzy. "Why?" she heard herself ask, barely audible over the roaring of her heart and the flash in her body—the sudden heat made it hard to swallow.

She was scared.

"I want to talk."

"Then talk!" she hissed.

"Alone," Bumi stressed. "Just between two old friends."

Toph's fists clenched; she felt Suki staring at her but didn't do anything but scoff. "If I'm your friend, I'd hate to meet your other friends."

"Are you alright?" Suki asked, concerned.

"Fine," she replied.

Bumi sighed. "I need to talk to you."

Toph knew that Bumi wouldn't leave her alone and that there was literally no way she could get away from him if he didn't want her to, so there was no point in putting off what he wanted; she turned to Suki with what she assumed was a tight smile. "The king summons me. I'll talk to you later."

Suki didn't say anything until she nodded slowly. "We'll both talk later."

Then Suki was gone, disappearing into the hallway.

"I sent a letter to Bipin, offering an alliance."

"Good."

"You bored yet?"

"Why do you care?" she snarked, making sure he only saw her back—not that it mattered.

Bumi had always been able to see through her.

That familiar nasal laugh echoed in her ears. "I guess you're right. It's more I care by extension, not a real caring."

Toph scoffed. "Because of Bor? There's nothing there, believe me. There never was."

"Don't believe your own lies—only a cunt does that."

"I am a cunt, according to you."

Bumi's footsteps—now she could sense them!—lumbered toward her. "I think what you did was cunt-ish, but I don't think you're a cunt. I'll tell you that I'm bored now. I'm waiting for something to happen."

Her fists clenched at her sides, and she wished to heave them at Bumi, but she knew he would crush her—again. "Something's going to happen if you don't leave me alone."

"Do you know what I first thought when you came to Omashu all those years ago after being on the run from your parents?"

She growled at the mention of her parents. "What, that I was a cunt?"

Bumi's sigh was simultaneously amused and wondered. "Not at all. I thought you were unworthy of your reputation. I found you promising with a lot of spunk, but it was fucking obvious that you didn't have wisdom; you had arrogance in its place, declaring you were the greatest Earthbender in the world and came to Omashu just so you could make me eat my own shit. Do you remember that?"

Toph flinched at the reminder, annoyed by the reminder of her obvious pride. "Yeah."

"But you were never the greatest, which I knew," Bumi continued. "The greatest Earthbenders were the ones who fought, bled, and died in the Great War—certainly not a fucking blind girl with an ego bigger than her sense. If you lived back then, you wouldn't have made it. Things were insane back then. What you experienced in the Great War wasn't great; it was a dying whimper of its previous ferocity. Both sides were tired, and no one really wanted to keep fighting. The leaders certainly wanted it—I wanted it—but the ones doing the fighting were sick of it. We no longer remembered what we were fighting for, and I've learned now that Fire certainly didn't know the reasons they were fighting at that point, either. What you faced was easy, Toph—that's what I thought when you came to Omashu."

She absorbed his words and decided to be a true Earthbender and listen. "What did you face that I didn't?"

A bitter bark of laughter erupted. "Everything. It was a fucking frenzy for those first decades until it became structured, making it harder. And there was so much miscommunication like you couldn't believe. No one understood anything while the Earth Kings hoarded all the knowledge of what was going on for themselves. Those cunts made everything worse. There was no strategy, and things kept breaking down. Earth was only unified in hatred for Fire, not tactics or knowledge or mobilization or structure or planning or attack. We were being raped up the ass because we couldn't get our shit together, and it was this way for thirty years. Fire conquering Chyung and Zaofu actually benefitted us by clearing the confusion in our communication. For fucking badgermole shit reasons, we actually started doing something after Chyung and Zaofu were taken, and I made the fucker who held half of the continent for Fire eat his testicles. When half of the continent was controlled by Fire, that's when we woke up and really started holding firm against Fire's assault."

Toph pieced together what she knew about Bumi murdering his predecessor. "That's right when you assassinated Guron and his family."

She sensed Bumi staring right down at her. Was he looking for something on her face? What did he see on her face? "Earth needed a great man to rise up. I decided to be that man. I saw the worst of the Great War—I experienced it firsthand and saw countless friends die, heads chopped off or faces burned beyond recognition. I watched women I was fond of—even women I was thinking about marrying and making my queen—die from diseases caused by the Great War; I watched my children die in action or from disease. I was face-to-face with both Sozin and Azulon and lived to tell the tales of each, the only man in history to be able to say that out of all their many enemies. And I tell you now—when it came to the Great War, Sozin and Azulon were the best of their lineage, fighting on the front lines themselves, influencing the outcomes with their power and ferocity. But beyond those two, Sozin's line wasn't as great—not in the Great war. Ozai's great because he's trying to become his own Avatar."

"Or stupid," she muttered in correction.

"But Ozai didn't do anything in the Great War except continue it," Bumi pointed out, sounding disgusted. "He lived off the achievements of other men, men who were great and made a real difference. And Iroh was the same. The Dragon of the West was feared because he was Azulon's son, not because of his own accomplishments or power. Iroh didn't actually extend Fire's territory at all. His only effort at it ended in disastrous failure in Ba Sing Se when he lost his son. Iroh just strengthened Fire's conquered territories and oversaw the Colonies, implementing structure and organization."

She had never really considered everything that would have happened in the Great War—one hundred years of time!—as she should have; she realized there was an actual history to it filled with countless stories to be told, but she had never cared about any of them. "What did you face, Bumi?"

"Death. I learned quickly that I could die, and I accepted that I could, but I always vowed to fight as long as I could—never to stop fighting. When I heard that Air was gone, you can't imagine that feeling; you lived through what Aang did to Ba Sing Se, but Air's loss was so much greater and complete. It was devastating—the most devastating thing I've ever heard of or imagined. Not even all my kids' deaths are as devastating as it, nowhere close. But it wasn't just Air's death; it was so many more who died. The greatest men to be born of our race lived during the Great War—I knew many of them. All those men impressed me; they were greater than all the ones I've seen since—and I've seen a lot of men come and go. I've seen you come and go, Toph, but you don't compare to those great men I knew. All the young ones to rise to fight the Great War lacked the greatness and strength of those before them—I saw it. So many dead—and so many needlessly. But I survived it; I survived what all other great men couldn't. Sozin didn't outlast the Great War; Azulon didn't outlast the Great War; Kuhna and Hada in the South didn't outlast the Great War; and all the men I knew and fought with didn't outlast the Great War. Only I outlasted the Great War. You wouldn't have survived it, either, Toph."

Toph's breath came out in a sigh as she recalled how insane it was fighting against the Dai Li and Ozai with Aang and Azula, when she would have died if not for Aang trading Ozai and Vaatu their freedom for her life. If the Great War had anything like that, she would have died. "I've realized that. I was never there for its prime, only for its death."

"Fire's loss in the Great War was just a loss of circumstance—that's it," Bumi claimed, and Toph believed him. "When Aang returned, Fire lost—that's what happened. When The Avatar returned, whenever he decided, the Great War was always going to end. If he came out of that fucking iceberg seventy years ago, the Great War would have ended quickly—probably more quickly because the caliber of men living then was greater than the ones Aang had here. I wasn't the only Fucker of Fire—I was just the best one and the only one who survived and lived to tell of it."

"I get it," she said. "You don't think I was ever anything special for helping Aang- "

Bumi groaned in annoyance. "That's not true. What I think is that you played a big role but just a brief one; you were always replaceable. What you don't realize is that you just got fucking lucky—that's it. You helping end the Great War was just circumstances, not anything that you did specifically. You may be the best, or one of the best, of your generation, but never think that you're part of the best generation because your generation isn't impressive—it never will be because the best generation is long dead. The only one who really actually ended the Great War was Aang—and to a lesser extent, Fire Lord Zuko. That's it. It was Aang's victory, not your victory. The rest of you were just along for the ride, and I guarantee you that there were a lot better—a lot greater—people to be along for the ride than all of you."

The vast disparity in their age, experience, understanding, and wisdom slammed into her, intimidating her—as it all always had. "You hate that I was part of what you wanted to be part of. You wanted to be along the ride with Aang, and you hate that you weren't—but you hate even more that someone as 'unworthy' as me was part of it while you weren't."

"Of course, I am," Bumi chortled in dismissal. "Timing is a fucking cunt. I, the Fucker of Fire who was so close to assassinating Azulon and was part of many of the great battles between Earth and Fire during the Great War, should have been there instead of only ever getting hollow victory after hollow victory, but I wasn't. You were, instead. I should have taught Aang earthbending, not you; I should have been second in line behind only Aang to shit on Ozai's head as I was the only big name left of the real Great War, not forgotten in the margins; I should have fought as I once did, not languish in fucking cell suspended away from the ground by Aang's now wife; I should have killed the enemies that needed to be killed; I should have played the biggest role after Aang and Fire Lord Zuko in ending the Great War; I should have ended the Great War with magnificent feats and strength, making it a meaningful end instead of the lackluster one we got after everything that happened for a century; and I should have been there for all of it with Aang instead of you fucking children. It's badgermole shit, Toph, and you know it is."

Toph didn't realize that she was barely breathing until she sucked in a breath, which made her cough for several moments. "It is," she admitted, feeling hollow herself. She imagined what it would be like for her to fight Vaatu and Ozai for decades upon decades, only to be relegated to the sidelines—just because of fucking timing and circumstances!—when it came time to end the war. She'd probably want to die if that was the case because it was too horrible and painful to ever bear. "I wish you had a bigger role at the end—you deserved it. I'm sorry you didn't get it, Bumi."

Bumi sat next to her, and she allowed him to; she didn't try to scoot away of jump away or anything. "I thought all of that and more when you came to Omashu. I really couldn't have had a lower opinion of you at all. You had one fucking nightmare of a time to earn my respect. But the thing is—you did earn my respect, Toph. I liked you. It started just because Bor liked you, true, but I eventually liked you just for you, not just for Bor's sake. What I've always known about you is that you have potential. You're much farther along than I was when I was your age."

She felt her face twist, despite her best efforts. "But I'll never reach the heights you did—nowhere even close, really."

Bumi's heart stuttered, a sign of a memory. "No, you won't, but you don't want to reach those heights. It takes a lot from you, until all that's left of you are those heights—but those heights aren't you, not really. You find yourself all alone up at those heights with only your memories for company, but your memories, the very things you did to reach those heights, are haunting and make you want to die—make you want to fall down from those heights with an unstoppable crash."

Toph remembered why she had always liked Bumi and felt drawn to staying in Omashu—it hadn't just been for Bor all those years. It felt nice to remember it, and she wanted to keep remembering it. "I won't reach those heights—I'll make sure I won't."

"That's good," he commended, sounding relieved. "That's a hard decision to make. I once never thought you could make hard decisions, and that's exactly why I never liked you with Bor, but you've proved me wrong. You'll succeed as Bor's queen if you decide to marry him because a queen has to be able to make hard decisions and handle hard decisions. You're on your way well to doing that—I'm proud of you for that."

Her heart thrummed in her chest, and she felt it with her own feet. "Bor and I aren't anything now, Bumi."

"Not now, but maybe later," Bumi assured, and Toph took faith in his calm confidence. "It's up to you and him. We all fucked up, didn't we? Ended up fucking each over when we didn't need to."

She swallowed. "I guess I should have really thought about things and why you did what you did to Guron and his family; I shouldn't have told you to go fuck yourself and ignored you."

"I should have explained it," Bumi replied softly, sounding worn. "I've never been too good at the talking; I was always good at killing people. Maybe if I had talked to Guron more, things would be different. I know things would be different if I had really talked to you about it rather than getting pissed off and threatening you."

A hysterical laugh echoed. "I don't think I would have listened."

"I don't think I would have explained it well."

Toph felt her eyes shut in pleasure at reaching an understanding and peace with Bumi, who she had always liked a lot, despite everything. In many ways, he felt like her father—a real father to her instead of her own father—because he taught her so many things and actually liked her, as well, even if they pissed each other off. "It's good talking to you again."

Bumi snorted and slung an arm around her shoulders; it was warm, familiar, firm, and pleasant. "It is. Now you and Bor need to talk again."

She winced but didn't shove his arm off her shoulders. "We already did- "

"That wasn't a fucking talking; that was accusing and yelling."

Toph was startled. "He told you about it?"

Bumi laughed. "You keep underestimating him. Why is that? Of course, he told me—but not the way you think. He ranted at me for half the night about how I made the wrong decision in dealing with you finding out about Guron. He told me that if I harmed you, he'd disinherit himself, find Guron's closest relative, and put him on Ba Sing Se's throne after I die. Then he said I was a 'cunt-face'—I believe he learned that from you—for what I did to you."

Her eyes bulged in disbelief—but her heart raced. "He didn't."

"Of course, he did—you know he would. When he gets going when he's angry, when that boulder starts rolling, nothing can stop him. You should know that."

Toph did know that—had always known it—but she had been so powerfully sure that Bor would take Bumi's side because of how obviously he loved, adored, and respected his grandfather. But maybe the Bor she knew would have taken Bumi's side while that Bor had changed into a boy—no, a man—who would defend her to his powerful, influential grandfather. "It just takes that boulder some time to get rolling," she whispered, feeling her lips stretch slightly.

"And it never stops," Bumi added. "He's going to roll over a lot of people when he's ready. I'm proud of him, and I used to be annoyed—really annoyed—by his choice of you, but I'm proud of him now for choosing you. I don't think anyone but you could be there for him like he needs, but I also think no one but him could be there for you like you need."

"I think you're right," she admitted quietly.

Bumi's grip on her shoulder tightened—but not painfully. It was a grip of insistence. "I need you to be there for him after I'm gone. I don't mean as his wife or his queen or whatever. I just need you to be there for him. That could be as a concubine or servant or friend—I don't care. Just be there for him, please."

Toph's heartbeat roared in her own ears—while also throbbing in her feet. "You're not dying, Bumi. You're going to survive this war like you survived everything else."

"I know, but I don't know when else I'm going to be able to say this to you," he said, and she had never heard him so serious—except for when he had scared her shitless, courage-less, and life-less when he had threatened her into pissing herself after she had learned about Guron and his family. "I'm choosing now. I trust you, Toph—whatever you think of me, I trust you. I trust you to be there for Bor and do what's best for him. Whenever I go twenty years from now, I leave to you my greatest treasure—my grandson. He's all I have."

She blinked rapidly, trying to control her breathing. "But Anju is- "

"Anju is fine; she has Batsu."

"You hate Batsu."

"I said he's a pretentious fucking fop who cares more about how he looks than Anju does, but I don't hate him. Anju's different from Bor, Toph. Anju's never really been like me. There's even been part of me that's wondered if she's really my granddaughter. I wonder if Sheil was made a cuckold. But even if she's not mine, she's still mine. But she's different, and because of it, I don't have to worry about her—at least not as much. She's always had a clear sense of things. She's always been more timid, but that's to be expected. She was raised during the Great War. But Bor is like me—how I used to be. He reminds me sometimes of that boy who Aang knew before the Great War. Bor is a dreamer, and you have to keep his dreams from swallowing everything. You know how he gets lost in his head sometimes. I need you to be there for him. There are things that can make dreams becomes nightmares, and when dreams become nightmares, you can get lost in your head forever."

There was too much knowing—and dread—in Bumi's voice. "What are you talking about?" she breathed, realizing there was something very significant that Bumi alluded to. "What do you fear happening to Bor?"

Bumi's heart stopped—it actually stopped—for a moment, almost making her own heart stop. "Bor's birth was a hard one," he said at last, voice soft—almost too soft. "It killed his mother."

"Your daughter," she whispered, shocked at knowing that Bor's birth was so difficult. She always knew that Bor's mother died when he was a child, but she never knew—Bor never knew—that his mother died in childbirth.

"Lira," Bumi clarified with a gasping grief and shame in his voice. "I loved her so much, and she died. I was powerless to prevent it. It was hard, from when she got pregnant to when she delivered him—it was all hard. Bor's beginning wasn't a happy one—not at all. Nothing about it was easy. I'm not sure I've ever known the word 'easy' when it comes to Bor, and this isn't easy to talk about because I love Bor more than anyone and want what's best for him—and what's best for him is you, whatever you are to him, if wife or friend."

"Bumi, what are you talking about?" she repeated quietly. "What are you saying?"

Bumi's jaw clenched so hard that Toph winced at the vibrations. "He may find out something one day that destroys him, and he'll only be able to turn to you; he'll only be able to trust you. It may ruin his conception of himself; it may fuck him beyond any way I fucked Fire; it may be worse than hearing and learning of what I did to Guron and his family; it may add a burden to his shoulders that not even he can carry; it may destroy him, make him question himself, doubt himself, and hate himself. He may spit on my name and want nothing to do with me; he may run across the continent to get away from it; he may try to kill himself; and he may turn to someone unholy to find a connection when everything's broken around him, and he can't understand what's real anymore."

She listened, shocked, mind racing as she rapidly tried to figure out what he was talking about, but the only thing she could think of was Bor learning about Bumi's role in assassinating his predecessor and eliminating all possible heirs of his predecessor, slaughtering his entire family as a failsafe, but Bor already knew about that, which meant Bumi was talking about something else.

What could be worse for Bor than learning of what Bumi did to Guron and his family?

"What may he find out?" Toph asked.

"Just promise me you'll be there for him."

"Bumi- "

"Promise me," he demanded, voice lashing against her like an overwhelming wave.

Toph nodded but failed to suppress her flinch. "Okay—I promise."

Bumi sagged, and his vibrations appeared lighter—like a literal weight was freed from his shoulders. "Thank you, Toph. You're a good daughter. I'm sorry I wasn't a good father to you—or as good as I could have been."

She tried to smile, but there was so much chaos, confusion, and concern in her mind. The last time there was a secret that Bumi was insistent to protect, it had to do with him murdering Guron and his family, and he nearly killed her when she confronted him about it. Would it be the same with this new secret? Was it as deadly and explosive? Why the secrecy? Why swear her to be there for Bor? Why was Bumi doubting that Bor would want anything to do with him when Bor had always wanted everything to do with his grandfather, loving him fiercely? What was it? What was really going on?

What other big secret, one involving Bor, was Bumi protecting?

XxXxXxXxXxX

It was time.

The shadows of night embraced him because Agni—that damned fucking spirit!—was gone, swallowed by the horizon. He felt free, like he was no longer being watched; he no longer had to perform according to the stupid 'rituals' and 'traditions' that Fire raped each other up the ass with. It was the most grueling thing he had ever done in his life—and second life—but he endeavored to do it because it was worth it, even if he wanted to peel off his skin every day—every time he saw his disgusting reflection!

He knew it was going to be hard, but living in Fire's territory—in Fire's damned capital!—was a test of everything he was capable of. From the moment he set foot on Fire's disgusting land, he wanted to unleash his gift, but he was denied by Vaatu, who was the source of his gift. But he bid his time and waited, grasping all the patience he could, waiting for months, almost a year. It was the longest year of both his lives, forced to perform as he was supposed to perform, appear as someone he never was, and pretend like he was one of Fire—like he was one of those fucking monsters—when he never would be, despite his appearance.

But Vaatu had given him word—finally!—that it was time to proceed, whenever he was ready, as it was the opportune time with everything else going on, and he obeyed—because he owed Vaatu everything! Vaatu gave him a second life—a second chance—to live and avenge himself on Fire, which was rightfully denied to him by Fire itself—by Sozin's heirs!

It was agonizing and infuriating to see the Dragon of the West and breathe the same air as him, and it took much more restraint than he thought he possessed to prevent himself from attacking him, despite knowing it would likely fail, but once he unleashed his gift, the chaos would allow him to avenge himself on the Dragon of the West, the terror of his childhood—and damner of his life.

It was time.

Thin streams of fire from the torches blazing along the walls covered him, masking his presence from those who would kill him if they knew who he truly was—not a Son of Agni, like everyone thought, but a Son of Devi masquerading as a Son of Agni.

All so he could destroy all of Agni's sons and daughters.

He was denied in his first life, but Vaatu gave him a second chance with a second life.

Of course, he needed to prove his worth before he was tasked with such a valuable assignment. After Vaatu liberated him from his unjust demise, he was forced to work with a real Son of Agni who would become Vaatu's vessel—a man named Piandao. Piandao was more powerful than anyone he had ever encountered, and despite his innate hatred for Piandao, he recognized that he would never succeed in anything by making him an enemy.

He helped Piandao slaughter key supporters of Aang's personal organization in the Order, catching those self-declared masters off-guard, feeding on their chis, forcefully siphoning off their energy to strengthen his own body. He went to the North to finish the job, leaving Piandao behind, and helped Hahn clear the way for him to take the North's throne, ruining Sokka's position, which was an aid he delivered with eagerness.

Vaatu was pleased with his strides and rewarded him by giving him the chance to destroy Fire, but the only limitation was that he needed to wait until the order was given, and he elected to obey, knowing he would fail without Vaatu's help.

But the time had come!

His footsteps were soundless, stealthily gliding across the stone, eyes darting, deciphering positions of concealment around him. He could not be caught. If he were, he had no doubts that he would end up in the Gardens of the Dead again. He couldn't go back to that accursed place! Not until he had his revenge! Vaatu wouldn't give him a third chance! He only had a second life to work with, and he would work with it forever!

A light pierced through the jaded, murky darkness ahead, and he froze, crouching low as he watched one of the other lowly servants, specifically, one of the chefs of the palace approach. He relaxed and stood to his feet, motioning for the ugly man to come closer.

"What is it you wanted, Lee?"

That was the name he was known by now—'Lee'—and he relished it because Lee connected him to his vengeance—as 'Lee' was the source of his damnation.

He forced a light chuckle to put the chef, whose eyes glanced to and fro in a hidden panic, at ease. "Don't be so nervous, Rokin."

"We shouldn't be here- "

'Lee' slung an arm around his shoulder. "I just need help with something—that's all. You're the perfect one to help me. You're a Firebender, and I'm not."

"What does that have to do- "

"I need you to open a door for me."

"Door? What door?"

A smile split his face. "You know who Sozin is, don't you?"

He had heard of the legends of Fire's catacombs where Sozin was buried—and he intended to take a visit to destroy it. It was the perfect time. While he unleashed chaos in the streets, he would be below the streets, desecrating Fire's great 'hero.'

It was part of his vengeance!

Rokin huffed at his mockful tone. "Of course, I have. He is our savior and- "

He grunted to prevent for killing Rokin right then and there. "It's a door to visit him, and I want to visit him—it's what a true Son of Agni would want, right? Aren't I a true Son of Agni?"

Disgruntlement turned into confusion. "What are you talking about, Lee?"

"I'm just talking about what every Son of Agni wants," he defended, doing his best to sound hurt, but he knew it was lackluster. He was close to his vengeance! "Don't you want to see Sozin, too? Don't you want to look upon the sarcophagus of the man that changed Fire forever? Don't you want to pay your respects?"

He was going to pay his disrespects, but Rokin didn't need to know that.

Rokin's eyes widened. "Are you talking about Sozin's crypt?"

'Lee' grinned. "Yes. I'll take us there, and we can do what we've always wanted to do. You can even pray at his crypt if you want."

"Only the royal family can go there!"

"I think that should change, don't you?" he challenged, beginning to guide Rokin to where he knew the door was. "Come on—it's Sozin. Haven't you ever wondered what he looked like? Haven't you ever wondered how he did the things he did? Haven't you ever wondered how he crossed the ocean and landed on the continent? Haven't you ever wondered how he had the balls to do everything he did? Haven't you ever wondered how he was able to conquer so much? Haven't you ever wondered how he got the Airbenders and swallowed them all up? Haven't you ever wondered what he looked like while he was killing all those people? Haven't you ever wondered how his mind worked to be able to accomplish everything he did? Haven't you ever wondered how his mind worked to be able to think all of the things he did—and then implement all his ideas on the world, touching all the Races? Haven't you ever wondered how he thought the things he did about the other Races? Haven't you ever wondered how he could do everything that he did? Haven't you ever wondered how he could look at himself and know what he did? Haven't you ever wondered how he thought of himself and what he was doing? Haven't you ever wondered how he could bear to think the thoughts he must have thought? Haven't you ever wondered how he didn't kill himself from the weight of everything? Haven't you ever wondered how cold he must have felt for a Firebender to do the things he did? Haven't you ever wondered how he convinced so many people to follow him and wage his war against the world? Haven't you ever wondered how many people really died? Haven't you ever wondered how he was able to live with himself?"

Rokin stared at him, brows pinched; there was a strange look on his face. "Are you alright, Lee?"

"I've never felt so alive," he replied, honest. "I feel great. And I'm going to feel even better. All those answers we seek will be revealed when we see his sarcophagus. Don't you want to see it—see him?"

"It would be the experience of a lifetime," Rokin admitted, sounding swayed.

'Lee' felt emboldened. "No one will ever do what we do tonight. We're going to change the world—save the world."

"By going to Sozin's crypt?"

"It will be a rebirth," he assured, knowing Rokin would never understand, but he had spent so long hiding his thoughts, refraining from speaking the truth, that it felt impossible to conceal them any longer. "The world will be reborn after I'm done. There will be no more wars, no more conflicts, no more rapes, no more murders, no more evil—because I destroy the source of each." He stopped walking and gripped Rokin's shoulder tighter, feeling the fragile bones beneath. It would be so easy to crush with his greater strength—enabled by his chi. "Now I just want you to open the door."

Rokin blinked. "What door?"

"The one you're standing on."

"There's no door here!" Rokin exclaimed, staring down at the innocuous stone beneath them.

'Lee' nodded in confirmation. "There is. It's right there. All you have to do is open it for me—for us."

Rokin looked suspicious. "How do you know?"

He couldn't exactly tell Rokin that he had followed the Dragon of the West in secret one night and seen that fucking cunt stop atop the stone and blast flames out of his feet, which opened the secret door. He also couldn't say that he had pieced together that the secret door must be the pathway to the catacombs beneath Fire's capital, as the legends he had heard always said that all the Fire Lords were buried under the capital they made, set in the lava that Agni spewed thousands and thousands of years ago.

"I have powerful friends," he dismissed and adjusted Rokin's position until he resembled the Dragon of the West on that night. "Now just blast flames out of your feet. It's going to open. If it doesn't, you can laugh in my face."

The fact that Rokin could laugh in his face seemed to spur him on, and he centered himself and blasted the flames out of his feet. The stone quickly grew hot, and he stepped back from the searing heat as a smile stretched his face as the door revealed itself, sliding soundlessly.

Rokin looked awed and expectant simultaneously. "It is a door," he breathed. "This is where the legendary catacombs are."

"It is," 'Lee' confirmed but snagged Rokin's shirt when he began to descend the steps down the door. "Not so fast."

"But you said that I could go with you!"

'Lee' shrugged his shoulders in admittance. "I lied," he dismissed. "You have a much bigger role to play. You should be proud—you're going to save the world. Your purpose is rebirth."

Rokin tried backing away. "No, Lee! What- "

He wrapped his hand around Rokin's throat, squeezing tightly, holding him in place with his enhanced strength, but not with the intent to suffocate. No, he didn't want Rokin dead, not at all. Rather the opposite, actually. He wanted Rokin to live as he himself did. Slowly, like a weary badgermole, he felt his own chi reach out, mixing with Rokin's, tainting it, snuffing out the inner flame, and siphoning strength and life. By Vaatu's gift that became his own, he hummed in pleasure as he felt vitality flood through his darkness-touched chi.

Rokin's eyes bulged out of their sockets, hysteria overwhelming the poor man, skin stretched taut, a mass of sunken terror. "What is this?" he screamed, limbs flailing, lashing out at him in a panic, but none registered as they were weak and growing weaker and slower with each attempt.

He didn't feel it—all he felt was the force flooding into his own chi, and before he accidentally stole everything, he dropped Rokin, who was on the brink of death. "You should thank me," he said in amusement, watching as Rokin crumbled to the ground, motionless—almost dead. "I just made you something more than a man; I made you like me; I made you closer to The Avatar than not. Do you know why?" He crouched in front of Rokin, whose eyes were glazed, trying to comprehend the changes his body underwent in such a short duration. "Because you're going to live multiple lifetimes and take many names. What is your death to you now but an impossibility? I plan to never die, and I will take everything I need to live as long as The Avatar, rivaling his premier longevity. Will you follow me, your maker?"

Rokin gasped as he stumbled to his feet, features smoothing out, losing the expiry that had been carved into his skin. His eyes blazed with anger and fear as he lashed out at 'Lee.' "Traitor!" he howled, turning on him. "Die!"

But nothing happened as his fist hung in the air, flameless, sparkless, and heatless; there could not even be smoke.

'Lee' laughed at the dumbstruck, horrified, and incomprehensible shock on Rokin's face. "You can do it again, but it will be the same."

A deathly pallor swallowed all shock as he shook his fist several times and punched forward—only for the same result of no firebending. "What is this?" His voice rose into a terrified shout. "What did you do? Lee, what did you do?"

"I became like The Avatar," he responded, smiling; it was a pleasant feeling to know that there was finally someone else like him in the world, even if Rokin was a fucking Son of Agni. "You know the stories that Fire Lord Zuko's father was stripped of his power by The Avatar—that his very firebending was smothered forever. I just took a bigger step than The Avatar did because I have bigger testicles than he does—always have and always will. I do what he was too weak to do; he was so fucking naïve it was pathetic—it still is. And look at you now—even greater than The Avatar, like me. We are long-lived terrors who will hunt Fire to extinction." He brought his hands up and cupped Rokin's cheeks; Rokin was too stricken in horror and confusion to react or get away from him. "Can't you feel it?" he whispered, staring into Rokin's eyes. Yes, there was the recognition he sought. Rokin really was like him. "Don't you feel the hunger, the need to feed? The lust?"

Rokin shook his head pitifully, but Lee could see it, view the change as it happened. Within seconds, his chi tried to connect to his own, but since there was no firebending there, it retreated. "Where's my fire?"

"Extinguished," 'Lee' notified, rejoicing. He would destroy Fire forever! "You're never going to firebend again. Your chi is different now; its inner workings are changed. I didn't just snuff out your fire like The Avatar did to the old Fire Lord; I replaced your fire, too. Now there's something different there. You have to follow your instincts, and this is a journey I can't make with you. You have to learn on your own."

That would make a greater realm of destruction and chaos more probable.

Rokin glared at him with hatred, but there was nothing to be done; he was powerless to resist the need to feed, to absorb all the Fire chis that he could. There was a lustful glow in his eyes, pulling him away. "Who are you?"

"A chi-stealer—like you," he stressed. "I made you. Now go—travel as far as you can across the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom Colonies, and when you tire, keep traveling. Destroy your race as your race destroyed mine. Go feed."

Unable to help himself, Rokin bolted off, the changes fully rooted within his chi, signaling the end of firebending. Well, at least those who weren't masters. 'Lee' had gotten lucky that Piandao had aided him with the hunting of the Order of the White Lotus, for while he fucking hated Firebenders, he had to admit that Piandao was the greatest Firebender he had ever seen, dealing with the actual masters of the Order while Lee himself handled the rest, catching them off-guard as he took their chis.

'Lee' smiled as the first echoes of chaos reached his ears, and he stepped down the revealed staircase. When he reached the bottom, the door above closed, sealing him inside, but he wasn't worried; he could punch his way out later after he destroyed Sozin's tomb. He traveled, with the aid of small torches lining the hall, down the wide tunnel, eyes tracing the art engraved in the stone behind the trophies. Majestic dragon heads stared back at him as he journeyed—the very trophies of Sozin's conquest.

He lifted his fingers and grazed one of the visible fangs protruding into the open. "Such a shame," he lamented. "You would have been so useful. Killing Fire with Fire—poetic. Or maybe you would have stopped me and eaten me alive." He stared into the ferocious features, preserved in death, and nodded. "Yes, that's what you would have done. It's good that Sozin killed you—the only good thing he ever did."

He removed his finger and gripped the fang—the size of a sword—with his hands and closed his eyes, drawing upon the strength in his enhanced chi. He felt his fingers dig into the tooth, and then, he ripped it out, gazing at his new trophy with a critical eye. It was about the length of his forearm, blood permanently stained into the marrow, but he liked it. He would carve it into a dagger, and when the time came, plunge it into the heart of Sozin's line.

He pocketed the tooth and continued his journey, trying to stay patient, but he soon found himself running, anxiously roaming through many halls, trying to get to the catacombs so he could get to Sozin's crypt. He had to get there! He needed to spit on that fucker! He needed to make him forgotten forever, as he deserved!

But he had to stop quickly when the tunnel ended, blocked by a giant metal door, on which there was a beautiful mural of a dragon. It was magnificent—even he had to admit it. The creature's eyes seemed to lock onto his own, predatory orbs shining with the urge to devour like fire itself. It seemed to glow, alighting the area surrounding them the longer Lee locked at it. The beast's chest itself shined with a red, orange light, depicting fire as it longed to be breathed out and raze everything in its path, and in the mouth was a familiar mechanism—another lock.

He cursed upon realizing that the mural was really another door and that he had been hasty in releasing Rokin and turning his chi; he had started his plague too soon!

Could he punch through the door? It would take time with its powerful metal, but it might produce noise that would draw the attention of those on the streets—because the streets would be flooded tonight! But would people care during all the chaos that would happen?

He wasn't sure, unfortunately; he knew better than most that in times of chaos, people don't think clearly.

But when he placed his hand on the mural, feeling the warm metal beneath—warmed from the other side by lava, likely—a familiar voice echoed behind him: "I never thought my brother sired bastards, but you must be one of his."

'Lee' gasped and whirled around, seamlessly falling into a fighting stance but froze, terror shooting through him when he saw the Dragon of the West exit out of the shadows, eyebrows raised—but eyes analytical and fearsome and so, so golden.

"Prince Iroh!" he exclaimed and fell into his performance; he kneeled before him. "My prince, you mustn't be down here. It could be dangerous."

"Same could be said to you, Lee—if that is your name," the Dragon of the West pointed out, voice calm—but too calm. Nothing was going according to plan as he had been caught off-guard not once but twice! How was he going to get himself out of it? Did he need to attack the Dragon of the West, dismissing caution and favoring aggression? Or did he need to try to lie his way out of it. Was he going to die? "You look nothing like my brother, but you are here in this sacred place. Only he could have given you knowledge of it, and he would only give knowledge of this rarity to someone he favored, and by your age, you could only be a bastard. You are my nephew's age."

'Lee' almost snarled at the mention of Fire Lord Zuko. "My father's name was Lee; I was named after him."

The Dragon of the West hummed and took a step forward, which made 'Lee' stiffen, panic beginning to spread through him. "Convenient. I ask you this once. You are trespassing on holy ground, Lee, and as the inheritor of this place, it falls to me to deal with you. You are not welcome here, nor should you know about this place, least of all its location. Who are you? How were you given knowledge of the Royal Catacombs, and more importantly, who was foolish enough to reveal such traitorous secrets?"

He never realized how intimidating the Dragon of the West was in-person; he seemed so congenial compared to his fearsome reputation. But he saw exactly how the Dragon of the West had earned such a reputation. He flailed for words, trying to find that which he needed, when he grasped his opportunity—and seized it with everything that he had. "Piandao!" he exclaimed, recalling how Piandao mentioned that he knew the Dragon of the West—'a great man who squandered his reputation, legacy, and inheritance,' Piandao had sneered in disgust—but remarked that their paths had diverged long ago. "It was Piandao! He sent me here and told me about this place."

The change was instantaneous as the Dragon of the West's jaw slacked, golden eyes wide with emotion. "Piandao's alive?" he breathed, astonished. "How? We believed him dead for close to a year now—like so many others."

'Lee' had no idea why the Dragon of the West believed Piandao had ever died—it seemed quite improbable for someone to be able to kill Piandao based on what he had seen—but knew he had to provide some kind of answer. "It was close, Prince Iroh," he said, spacing his words. "He staved off death as he always has. He's building an army to fight, and he told me about this place; he sent me here, actually."

The Dragon of the West no longer regarded him suspiciously, only desperately, as he took a step closer; apparently, he thought he and Piandao were still friends when Piandao despised him. "But why did he send you? Why are you here?"

"There's a treasure in Sozin's crypt," he said vaguely, hoping desperately that it was true—or hoping it was a bold lie that the Dragon of the West would call him on. If so, it meant he could unleash on him his vengeance as he powerfully wanted it.

But the Dragon of the West's eyes lit up. "I know exactly to what you refer, Lee. Piandao's love for antiques has always bonded us." He winked, and 'Lee' wanted to eat his eyeballs. "But this antique is not so much an antique as a weapon."

His heart raced that his deception was working, but he nodded in 'confirmation' with a tight smile. "Yes, Prince Iroh. Piandao ordered that I return this treasure—this weapon—to him. Would you guide me to it?"

Then once he got the weapon, maybe he'd get the chance to kill the Dragon of the West.

"Of course, of course," the Dragon of the West assured, laughing with jovial joy; his guard was down. "He speaks of my grandfather's famed fire-blade!"

"Fire-blade?" he echoed, wondering if this weapon would help him kill the Dragon of the West by giving him an advantage. If Sozin—Sozin!—owned it, it had to be very powerful and useful! "What is it exactly? Piandao only said I'd know it when I saw it."

A smile split the Dragon of the West's face, and Lee almost couldn't believe his luck. He had managed to fool the Dragon of the West, who had been the catalyst for his fall to the Gardens of the Dead! But still, he fumed inwardly at the sight of that disgusting smile—because the Dragon of the West never deserved to smile! "I see why he said that. It is a legend to most people. My grandfather forged it himself in the rushing rivers of lava beneath the palace with the aid of his dragon, Azar. The blade is named Embers, a mighty blade that withstood his flames without melting—the only one of its kind. Grandfather made it during his dragon-hunting conquests in which he skinned the hides of each dragon that he killed."

'Lee' frowned briefly at the fact that Embers wouldn't be too useful to him, but he could give the blade as a gift to Piandao and enhance his standing in Piandao's eyes—and Vaatu's eyes. "A weapon that will help in the battle to come," he commented. "It sounds very useful."

"Very much so!" the Dragon of the West agreed and motioned him to step aside as he approached the metal door. "I will take you to it now. Piandao always had a fascination with the legend of Embers—it is no wonder he sent you to obtain it for him."

He watched as the Dragon of the West unleashed three—three!—blasts of fire simultaneously, one from each limb and another from his mouth, into the muraled dragon's locking mechanisms—there were two more that he hadn't been aware were there. The metal door opened with a gentle groan, revealing, in the distance, a glowing light that was visible; warmth immediately began to seep into his body, provided by the light in the distance.

"Here we are," the Dragon of the West proclaimed, winking at him. "Do not worry. It will stay open until I come back and close it. We would not want to be stuck down here, would we?"

He almost punched his head off. "I guess not."

The Dragon of the West motioned him to follow, which 'Lee' obeyed—begrudgingly. "Follow me. But I must warn you."

"Warn me?"

"These our Fire's royal tombs, Lee," the Dragon of the West explained. "You must be careful—most careful. Every Fire Lord's crypt, stretching back to Fire Lord Ravi, is deep beneath the capital, rooted in the lava rivers that flow underneath the entire Caldera. Each tomb is separated from one another, although all are within eye distance. Between each, lava flows unchallenged, forbidding safe journey across. There is a walkway connecting all with one another, but you must come to the first crypt. Otherwise, you will die. You must find a way to safely cross the streams of lava if you wish to survive. Only true Masters of Fire can walk painlessly through the lava, but the only ones who have been true masters in the past centuries have been the Fire Royal Family, the Fire Sages, and several of the commanding generals of the military. You must stay close to me. This is a dangerous place."

The words burned his heart, but he forced them anyway: "I will stay close to you, Prince Iroh."

The closer his feet carried him as he followed the Dragon of the West, the more his excitement began to burst out of his soul, reminding him of what he had set out to do so many years ago before his tenure in the Gardens of the Dead. Not even the Dragon of the West's disgusting presence could ruin the pleasure he began to feel; it was all so perfect!

It was the stifling heat that registered in his mind first before it was the almost inhumane atmosphere. He stared at the flowing lake of lava, eyes wide as he spotted the erected monuments in the middle of the lake, spaced with a walkway just as the Dragon of the West had said. The world under the Caldera was red, all the rock and stone a hellish hue as Lee's eyes observed.

How was he supposed to traverse? How did the Dragon of the West do it?

Lee licked his lips and kicked a chunk of stone into the lava, watching unblinkingly as the stone became alight almost immediately and sunk within seconds, disappearing from sight.

"You see what I mean now, yes?"

He nodded, bitter. "I do, Prince Iroh."

The Dragon of the West stood next to him, overlooking the lava lake, body alight with a reddish hue, making his golden eyes gleam with radiance. "I come down here to think sometimes," the Dragon of the West confessed. "It centers my thoughts. Seeing all those before me, it reminds me of my origins; it reminds me of my place."

"How did you find me?" he finally asked, not wanting to discuss anything related to the Dragon of the West's origins—because the origins were evil!

The Dragon of the West laughed. "Did you think this was the only entrance?"

'Lee' had wondered why the architects of the catacombs made the catacombs so far away from the palace. But he had just assumed that the architects were stupid as all of Fire were stupid and not worth living lives—they all deserved to die! "I should have guessed that."

"No one has ever been here not of the royal bloodline," the Dragon of the West, turning to him. "It is a sacred space. But I will allow you to gaze upon our ancient forefathers in their eternal rests—because you brought me sacred news. You are the messenger of a miracle, Lee! I thought my friend was dead, and you notified me that he lives." A humble rareness entered the Dragon of the West's face, making him appear—but it was all an act! "Thank you, Lee."

He despised the thought of being rewarded but inclined his head. "Thank you for the reward, Prince Iroh. I'm always a dutiful servant."

The Dragon of the West appraised him for several long moments before a broad grin appeared. "Yes, you are. I am tempted to leave with you to see my friend again."

"I will give him whatever message you want."

"Later," the Dragon of the West promised and, with no hesitation, stepped into the lava lake without a batted eye.

'Lee' felt his eyes bulge and had to admit that he was deeply unnerved by the seemingly impossible sight, though he would never say so aloud to the tea-loving bastard. "How will I get across?"

"I will carry you," the Dragon of the West assured with a 'kind' laugh, raising his arms above his head in show. "That is the only way. Or you can try to make the impossible leap."

He eyed the vast distance from the ledge to the first monument and reckoned that he could make it, but he didn't want to reveal his gift to the Dragon of the West—not yet. Instead, he grit his teeth, disgust spreading through his mind. To complete his mission of shitting on Sozin's sarcophagus, he needed to trust the man who sentenced him to his fate all those years ago, the Firebender whose very name was whispered in terror across his homeland during his childhood—the Dragon of the West, General of the Fire Nation, the firstborn son of Azulon.

Without a word, Lee swallowed and prayed to Devi—may she hear him and protect him!—that this wasn't all a convoluted trap and that he would actually live through this ordeal. He stiffened as he laid himself on the Dragon of the West's hands, barely quelling the urge to shiver in revulsion. The trek through lava was slow, and the Dragon of the West's arms were strong, deceptively strong beneath his robes. After several minutes, he was suddenly tossed forward, and before he could scream out his hatred, his unholy discontent with the man who had taken so much from him, Lee felt his feet land on solid stone.

A jovial laugh echoed as the Dragon of the West climbed out of the lava, gripping the ledge, and pulling himself to his feet. "A new experience. My apologies that this place is protected so well."

"I understand why it is," he conceded. "You can never be too careful."

"I agree. We have quite the adventures together. First, you are pulled in by the nobles who tried to assassinate me, and second, you tell me my friend is alive, and we go to collect Embers for him."

'Lee' wished desperately that the assassination attempt had succeeded; he had been part of it, knowing the nobles and had been in contact with Piandao. He had guided them to the Dragon of the West's office, but it had failed—and the nobles who were there to collect had been killed, as well.

He was lucky that he hadn't been caught—and he was lucky still because the Dragon of the West had no idea of his true loyalties!

"It reminds me of my adventures with my nephew," the Dragon of the West recalled, wistfulness on his face, while 'Lee' wanted to shout and scream that he and his nephew were fucking cunts. "You actually remind me some of him."

He inhaled deeply to refrain from gutting the man like a fish at that moment. How dare that tea-loving ass compare him to that fucking skin-melted parasite? Instead, he said nothing and looked around, finding his attention rooted at the monument nearby. It was ancient, and his eyes widened when he saw the engraved writing on the monument's entryway, passing into the next one beyond: 'May the man who visits my tomb know I went in peace to my doom.'

"Who was this?" he asked in distraction.

"Ahh… You gaze at the very first Fire Lord to get the honor of this place—Ravi. His grandson commissioned the creation of this place for all Fire Lords many generations ago. However, the first many, many Fire Lords after Kai were never given the honor; their names are instead kept in our records." The Dragon of the West stepped closer and motioned him along. "Come—we have to journey onward to reach Embers."

He warily followed, eyes glancing at the inscription on the statue, brows rising in derision:

Ravi, descended from Kai's line. The blood of Agni flows through your veins. May you join your beloved son by Agni's grace.

As they reached each monument, 'Lee' found himself curious about the inscriptions for every evil Fire Lord. He read most of them as they passed while the Dragon of the West provided history for some and frowned at others.

Rohit, grandson of Ravi, descended from Agni's line.

The Dragon of the West saw his surprise at the inscription, of how it detailed so little. "Fire Lord Rohit was a poor ruler. Nobody wept when he was deposed by his cousin."

'Lee' quickly looked at the next one, and the two after:

Hideki, grandson of Ravi, descended from Kai's line. The sun will shine on you again in Agni's majestic kingdom.

Houka, son of Hideki, descended from Kai's line. May the minds of Agni's Children remember your deeds for eternity and never forget your betrayal! May Agni roast your flesh and devour your spirit!

Zyrn, son of Houka, descended from Kai's line, though you were unworthy of it. May you be rejected by Agni and Air as you were loved by neither, a disgrace to all who looked upon you.

"Zyrn will always be recognized as a mentally unstable and weak Fire Lord, swayed by a woman's smile." Distaste poisoned the Dragon of the West's tone. "He was weak-willed and dominated by those around him, particularly his wife—but she was one amongst many. Zyrn was even an Airbender, according to the stories, if you can believe it. That was part of the reason why he and his son, Jyzhol, were assassinated by Ekhtol."

'Lee' didn't believe it and looked to the next two:

Ehktol, son of Rishi of Vasuman, descended from Kai's line. Sedulous as Kai himself, you gave strength to the title of Fire Lord. Agni welcomes you home.

Elsine, son of Ehktol, descended from Kai's line. May your afterlife be better than your mortal existence.

His eyes widened when he gazed at the next statue, which was terrifying. A large man, powerfully built, loomed over both he and the Dragon of the West, glaring down at them with stoic eyes. What was most disconcerting was that there was a gaping hole in his chest, where his heart should be.

"You have stumbled upon Fire Lord Ojas, Lee." The Dragon of the West's tone was dark, almost a snarl. "My nephew has often told me that he thinks, besides his father, that the rank of the worst Fire Lord in our nation's history belongs to another, but I narrowly disagree. Fire Lord Ojas was a monster, a usurping coward. May his eternal rest in the Gardens of the Dead be turbulent, painful, and memorable."

'Lee' turned to look at the Dragon of the West, meeting golden eyes that he had looked into years ago. "What do you mean, Prince Iroh? What did Fire Lord Ojas do? How was he worse than your brother?"

And your nephew, he wanted to add, but knew he would be killed if he said something like that.

"You see the hole in his chest, yes? After Ekhtol's death, Elsine was supposed to succeed him as his firstborn heir, and only days after he was crowned, Ojas, Ekhtol's once-loyal younger brother, usurped the throne and killed Elsine, who was only a boy. He murdered his own nephew and seized the Dragon's Throne—heinous and despicable. I wonder how he did it. How could he do such a thing to his own nephew?" The Dragon of the West's mystified, furious, and disgusted expression reminded Lee of how he thought about Sozin. "I could have done the same as Ojas—murder my nephew and seize the Dragon's Throne. But the thought sickens me and makes me want to die. I realized my destiny was not to be Fire Lord; Ojas failed to realize it, showing that he was vain, weak, and cowardly. He is long hated and will be forever—he deserves it."

"There's no inscription on Ojas' statue," he noted after several moments, mainly to prevent himself from saying something similar about Sozin.

"There was once, but it was destroyed by my grandfather long ago after he found Elsine's skeleton."

'Lee' nodded and looked to the next one, keeping an eye on the Dragon of the West's every move while he read. This time, he noticed that there were two statues, a man and woman in an eternal embrace.

Henjul, great-great-grandson of Ravi and husband of Makakara of Vasuman, descended from Kai's line. A Child of Fire who brought order out of the endless entropy that was the Splintering, reuniting the House of Agni, you were beloved. For your unceasing efforts, Agni smiles at you from your seat at his high table. May your afterlife be as brilliant as your life! May your name be remembered by your race forever!

Rylun, son of Henjul, descended from Kai's line. A dutiful ruler, you were. Find rest in Agni's kingdom, for it evaded you in the Mortal Realm.

His eyes widened as they came to a single woman's statue with no man in sight. "A woman was Fire Lord?" he breathed, scarcely believing the sight.

"She was Fire Lady; she sat on the Dragon's Throne and ruled our race. Her name was Akemi." The Dragon of the West pointed to the statue. "Do you notice the dullness, Lee? Even in death, Akemi is disrespected. It is shameful if not understandable. She was disastrous as a ruler, going mad after her firstborn son's death. She facilitated many disasters to befall our race because of her incompetence and emotional enslavement to her dead son's memory. But it is shameful because even Ojas' tomb is more extravagant than Akemi's, and I believe Akemi was better than Ojas—if only barely."

'Lee' read the inscription:

Akemi, daughter of Rylun, descended from Kai's line. May your madness settle when you lay eyes on Takumi once more.

He looked to the next and noticed the Dragon of the West gaze at the statue with a dark chill in his golden eyes. "This is whom my nephew has vocally declared the worst Fire Lord after his father—a monstrous tyrant. I have long wondered what Akemi would think of her child-killing son."

Kazuki, son of Akemi, descended from Kai's line.

Kohaku, son of Kazuki, descended from Kai's line. A redeemer of the past, may you find Agni's table welcoming.

'Lee' turned his gaze across the walkway, and his breath hitched. He instinctively knew whose crypt was next. He dimly felt his feet trek across the stone, the almost-boiling warmth of the lava ever present. As his arrival grew more imminent with each step, the less air entered his starved lungs. He was so close! He was going to look upon Sozin's sarcophagus and get his answers! It was everything he wanted!

Vengeance would be his forever!

The Dragon of the West's voice echoed: "Welcome to my grandfather's crypt, Lee."

'Lee' shuddered as he looked at Sozin's final dwelling. His tomb was that of a magnificent temple, beautiful columns encircled by mosaics depicting Sozin and his army desecrating what he instinctively knew were the Air Temples, hunting dragons bathed in fire, and the entire structure was made of pure gold, glowing brilliantly under the light of the flaming torches and lava.

A primal fear swept through his heart, causing him to feel rage as he stepped closer into the temple. Inside, treasures were strewn throughout, making 'Lee' feel the yearning he had felt all those years ago when he had possessed nothing—only a name that he could no longer use. And in the center, was a sarcophagus. 'Lee' swallowed as his legs moved towards it, eyes riveted on the long inscription on the side of the coffin:

In old days, the world was dark, cruel, and cold
With ages of our prosperity sold
To tyrants branding evil, serving chains,
Marring Fire's honor forever with stains.
The burden endured for generations
With Fire enslaved to another nation.
No one could fight against it—no one dared
Until there was born a Fire Lord who cared.

Houka bent his knee and died 'neath our feet,
Crushed under our grief—his death did he meet.
Fire Lords respected his pledge to the skies
When they should have burned with ire from the lies.
We were enslaved for rising in a stand
Against foes who raped our race and land.
Houka's crime was never his vast attack;
It was his yield; he turned on us his back.

They came down from Heaven with searing chains,
Inflicting on us the most wicked pains.
Men, women, and children's lives were ended
By the hypocrites who were offended
We replied, to which they demanded charge
For their ills when they were guilty at large.
We trusted our Fire Lord like a new bride
But Houka betrayed our race and complied.

Zyrn did nothing, tied to our enslavers;
Ehktol only robbed us to pay the favors.
Elsine died too young to make a change
While Ojas did not think the tributes strange.
Henjul took the throne and tried to discuss
With them the levies extinguishing us.
They despised his noble attempts for peace
And vowed the recompense would never cease.

Henjul died, leaving Rylun as his heir;
Rylun was busy with the heir-less scare.
Akemi never had the strength to lead;
Kazuki was distressed by his weak seed.
Kohaku promised to end our kneeling
To make way for a redeeming healing,
But it was not him who secured our cure.
It was Sozin, whose light was warm and pure.

Let Fire say his name for all our ages!
May his accomplishments fill Life's pages!
Never has a man with such honor reigned!
He conquered our foes—by Agni ordained!
He recognized all of us by our names,
Calling us Agni's unique, matchless flames!
He thought of us with every endeavor!
He loved, worked, and fought for us forever!

Sozin walked the world while all others crawled;
He dared fight those tyrants with their heads bald.
He was like Agni himself with his grace;
He is foremost always amongst Fire's race.
His reign was renowned; his length of rule, long.
He fought long as possible, right and strong.
Men try but fail to fight their last affair;
But Death claimed him, 'sleep, scared to face him 'ware.

We await his return for all our days
Where he will rise again like Agni's rays,
Freeing him to finish what he began,
For he will ensure triumph as Fire's man.
We look to Agni and offer our prayers,
Thanking him for giving us a Fire Lord who cares.
We beg him to search his kingdom for him
And free him to save us in our days grim.

Earth and Water celebrate with him gone,
Knowing we are in the dusk, not the dawn.
What triumph is there without you, my lord,
When the world encircles us with a horde?
The world, again, is most dark, cruel, and cold,
But we know to follow your standard, bold.

If you see us again, it is enough.
If we see you again, it is enough.

An ugly snarl formed across his face as the inscription's words echoed in his mind like the sound of an explosion. 'Lee' felt his hand clench into fists so tight that he was genuinely afraid that his knuckles would burst through the skin. Those fucking spawns of Agni dared to revere Sozin when that monster had started the Great War? They truly deserved to die for their idiocy and monstrous beliefs. A contempt beyond the already poisonous hatred in his heart swelled inside, reminding him with a start of Sozin's heir—Sozin's very grandson—who was standing right next to him!

But the Dragon of the West's sudden words kept him from attacking right then.

"This is Embers, which Piandao sent you to retrieve," the Dragon of the West said, stepping into his line-of-sight, fingers gently brushing over the sarcophagus. It was grandiose, the very stone molded to look like Sozin himself. And atop it, clasped in the stone's hands, was a beautiful sword, an unholy sharpness that Lee realized, with a start, cut through a dragon's hide.

"This is it?" he asked needlessly, knowing it certainly was, but he had no idea what else to say. There was something mesmerizing about the sword, and he tried to imagine it glowing with flames, but he was unable to.

The Dragon of the West hummed, fingers grazing the sword's edge. "It is a weapon worthy of the Fire Lord. I knew my grandfather. Did you know that?"

'Lee' had certainly not known that the Dragon of the West knew Sozin, but he nodded. "Yes, Prince Iroh."

"When I was a teenager, Grandfather was still Fire Lord, and my father was in his sixties, the prince to the Dragon's Throne, with myself second-in-line. When Grandfather died of loneliness, my father succeeded him, and I was heir apparent. My father loved this sword. In fact, he wielded it on several occasions, eventually laying it on his father's tomb when my nephew was born, returned to where it was made as Grandfather forged it himself in these very lava lakes." The Dragon of the West pulled his fingers back, inspecting briefly. "It is still sharp—a work of art."

"Piandao will be very pleased," he commented.

"I know he will be, Lee, but now I wonder the reason for his determination in obtaining Embers."

Caution sprung in his heart, and he kept his breathing even. "What do you mean, Prince Iroh?"

"Why would Piandao go to such trouble to secure a blade that he cannot even wield to its fullest potential?"

"I'm not sure."

Dragon of the West turned to him, eyes confused but narrowed, and 'Lee' felt something unpleasant roll down his spine. "Piandao is a non-bender. He would never be able to fully wield Embers. Does he intend for someone he knows to wield it?"

He smiled and bowed his head. "He intends for you to use it, Prince Iroh."

Apparently, he said something wrong as the Dragon of the West stared at him in terrifying assessment for several long moments. "But why send you to tell me to use Embers? I have no connection to you. Why not reach out himself and let me know he is alive? Why this deception? He does not even know where Embers is, only of its legend. Why and how would he tell you to obtain it for him if he did not know where it is? And it appears that he never wanted me to know about Embers as it took me finding you to understand what was going on."

'Lee' tried to laugh, but he knew that it was pitiful. He was dangerously close to being discovered. "I don't know, Prince Iroh. I'm just the messenger, remember?"

Fire glowed ominously in the back of the Dragon of the West's throat. "Yes, I remember—I remember having doubts about you. I was too elated at the news of Piandao's survival, but now I realize what happened. I know what is going on, and I know why you are here and want Embers—why Piandao wants it."

"Why is that?" he challenged and inched towards the exit, carefully keeping his eyes connected to the Dragon of the West's.

The Dragon of the West pointed the Embers at him, and suddenly, flames swirled around it, molding around the metal, creating a pure fire-blade. "Vaatu has corrupted my friend, utilizing my brother and the Fire Sages' knowledge about these catacombs to influence Piandao into sending you to retrieve Embers, no doubt to give to Ozai since Piandao can never use it to its full potential."

He laughed in shock; the Dragon of the West's evil brother wasn't even working with Vaatu. "That's stupid! Your stupid brother will be nowhere near Embers!"

The moment he said the words, he regretted it, realizing his error as he had focused on correcting the wrong claim in the accusation.

The Dragon of the West's eyes burned. "You admit to working for Vaatu and that Piandao has been corrupted by him as so many have."

'Lee' lashed out, seeing no other choice, as he poured great energy into his enhanced chi, kicking the Dragon of the West's leg, making him stumble to his knees. Then, without a moment's pause, he heaved his fists into the man's surprised face, causing Embers to fall to the ground, fire vanishing.

He plucked it from the ground and raced out of Sozin's tomb, alarm ringing in his mind. His feet pounded across the stone, the stifling heat a burden as he inhaled the smoke, and he risked a glance behind him. The Dragon of the West had jumped out of the tomb, fingers burning with bright flames, golden eyes as fierce as the lava everywhere.

"Who are you?" the Dragon of the West roared as his fire lashed toward 'Lee' at intense speeds.

'Lee' narrowly managed to roll to the side, hiding behind Fire Lady Akemi's statue. "I'm someone you should know well, you fucking cunt!" he exclaimed and furiously tried to concoct an escape plan.

But he was at a disadvantage in every conceivable way. He was trapped with the Dragon of the West in a dangerous location that he could not use to his advantage. There were no possibilities, and there were schemes, and there were no tactics, and there were no strategies, and there were no tricks, and there were no miracles. He was alone and on his own, with only Embers for company.

But there was his vengeance—and he would have it!

"I would remember an acolyte of Vaatu, boy." The Dragon of the West's voice echoed, coming closer. "Your name is not even 'Lee,' is it?"

Coming to the conclusion that he could do nothing but fight to survive, fleeing, he kicked Akemi's statue to the ground, causing the walkway to crack, and 'Lee' leaped across to Rylun's crypt, heart racing with energy. He jumped out of his position and frowned when the Dragon of the West was nowhere to be seen. Where did that fucking cunt go?

His eyes widened at a sudden sound, and he whirled around, sliding to the side when the Dragon of the West burst out of the lava.

"I've thought of nothing these past years except the thought of plundering your heart—and your nephew's, too!" 'Lee' roared, swinging Embers at the Dragon of the West.

The Dragon of the West jumped back from the blade. "Who are you?"

"Your line molested this world! How many families were ripped apart because of you, Dragon of the West, during your years terrorizing the Earth Kingdom? How many children had to watch their parents murdered by the likes of you and men like you? How many women were raped and bore unholy children?"

'Lee' saw that his words had an effect on the bastard and realized it was his chance! He grabbed the dragon's tooth he had acquired earlier and flung it with deadly accuracy at Dragon of the West, smiling in gleeful relief as the man stumbled back, tooth protruding from his chest.

The Dragon of the West slowly looked down at the tooth, hands yanking it out of his chest. Blood flowed down his chest as a stream, and the Dragon of the West fell to his knees, breathing heavily. Gently, he brought one of his hands to the hole, and the smell of burning flesh sizzled through the air. He then looked up at 'Lee.' "I do not know who you are—but I do not care. I am sorry I wronged you in some way, but you threatened my nephew. That is something unforgivable." The Dragon of the West began to stand, looking like the General he once was, and 'Lee' felt fear spread through his mind. "Once I seize you and retake Embers, I will learn where Piandao is located and free him from Vaatu's influence. And as for you, there is nothing for you but your death. Perhaps you may feel honor at being laid to 'rest' next to all the Fire Lords- "

"Fuck you!" he shouted and bolted before the Dragon of the West could say anything else, racing faster than he ever thought possible, wondering if he even rivaled Aang himself at that moment. He heard sparks echo through the humid air, and he dove behind what he dimly noticed as Fire Lord Zyrn's statue.

Lightning exploded near the statue, and lava burst through the stone, beginning to rise like a deadly tide, threatening to drown 'Lee' in a painful, agonizing death.

He quickly pushed Zyrn's statue into the lava, using it as a steppingstone to the next walkway, and hauled himself forward. "You'll never capture me, you fat bastard!" he screamed. "I would rather die!"

'Lee' dashed through the following crypts, listening for more sparks of lightning, and he wasn't surprised when the hauntingly thunderous sound reached him. He kept pushing himself further, and at the last second, rolled to the nearest statue, shoving it into the walkway in a smooth motion. Lightning smashed through the statue—Fire Lord Ravi's, he realized ironically—and large chunks soared through the humid atmosphere, splashing into the lake of lava.

He knew that it was his opportunity, and he focused on his chi, drawing great amounts of the stolen energy, and exploded towards the lava lake, Embers gripped tightly in his hand. At the last second, he leaped as far as he could, using a large column of the statue that was nearly consumed fully by the lava as a surface to jump from once again.

He tumbled to the ledge, narrowly pulling his legs up away from the lava in time. He jumped to his feet and whirled around, staring across the giant lava lake into the Dragon of the West's fearsome golden eyes. "I'm going to see you again one day!" he called out. "And I swear on all the graves of those you murdered that when I do, I'll be victorious! I will watch your life leave your eyes before I do the same to your fucking nephew!" 'Lee' saw sparks blossom in the Dragon of the West's hands, and he laughed loudly, glancing up at the roof of the cavern. "Do you really think that's wise, old man? Listen, truly listen," he urged, tuning his own hearing as far as he could. Slowly, sounds from the world above could be heard, and the screams of terror were music to his ears, a balm to his heart. "Can't you hear it?"

"What have you done?" the Dragon of the West demanded, eyes widening in realization, sparks of lightning ceasing.

'Lee' grinned in triumph. "I've unleashed a plague that will snuff out your accursed race, a chaos that will forever change the world." The sounds were becoming louder with every second, the victory resonating in his soul. "It's impossible to stop now- "

He gasped as the Dragon of the West abruptly surged forward, jets of flame blasting out of his feet, propelling him forward like a comet. In a blink of an eye, the Dragon of the West was only seconds away from him, and Lee dashed away, chi pulsing with energy, and he wondered if he would ever be able to escape from the fat bastard. The Dragon of the West's approaching presence was a constant warning, an irritating shadow that inflicted true fear to resonate in his mind as the Dragon of the West followed him where he did, the sound of crackling flames echoing.

Racing past the dragon heads, not paying them any mind, he began to calm his mind—and fear, too. He had one more chance to escape out of the Fire Nation alive with Embers, and it would be because of the Dragon of the West's own choice. 'Lee' didn't have any other options, in spite of his racing thoughts.

He screamed in rage when the door Rokin opened was shut, and he punched through it, bursting into the street with a snarl of frustration. But when he stood to his feet, any rage was replaced by euphoria as his eyes bulged as he viewed the Caldera of the Fire Nation. It was pandemonium—sheer gratifying pandemonium. There were fires everywhere, smoke drifting into the air, and haunting screams echoed in shrill shrieks through the air, striking everyone.

It was beautiful.

But he didn't have much time to ponder his success as the Dragon of the West burst out of the door, hands alight with hot flames. He rolled away from several blasts of fire as Dragon of the West's booming voice echoed: "Give me Embers, boy."

The tone was uncompromising, alarmingly similar to an Earthbender's, but 'Lee' snarled and gestured around, eyes watching and waiting for another attack. "Fuck you. You have a choice to make—capture me or save what remains of your evil race. What will it be, cunt?"

"I will do both."

There was an alarming conviction therein that he knew he needed to crush as fast as possible. "Can you?" he challenged, gripping Embers' hilt tighter. "Can you really? Are you willing to risk the lives of your fellow Firebenders? Take a look around you, Dragon of the West. Watch your race suffering right now."

The Dragon of the West's eyes darted around, and 'Lee' watched the change, felt it as it happened. The man's face paled and golden eyes were astonished, on the verge of horror. The pandemonium had only grown since the Dragon of the West appeared, sweeping through the city, a mayhem beyond anything Lee had ever envisioned, and it was glorious. Multiple fires were razing a path of destruction as blood-curdling screams howled through the night, the sound a fierce victory in his heart. Brilliant blasts of fire exploded in the dark, destroying various structures, unable to be snuffed out because all the Firebenders were under siege. He spotted figures dashing through the night, attacking Firebenders and feeding on their chis, changing them as Lee had changed Rokin's chi. Animalistic lust to feed swept through their minds, and the number of chi-stealers continued to grow and grow.

The Dragon of the West's eyes turned to him, and they shone with anger and defeat, recognizing that 'Lee' was correct. "You made yourself an enemy on this day."

The Dragon of the West refused to allow his kinsman to potentially die, especially since he had no idea of what 'Lee' had done. If his path had been different, 'Lee' dimly realized that he would respect the Dragon of the West, but all that burned in his heart was hatred.

"No, you made me your enemy many years ago, and ever since, I've been your enemy. You just didn't know it."

'Lee' memorized the frustrated ruin on the Dragon of the West's face and smirked before he dashed away, the sound of the Dragon of the West's roar of frustration echoing ominously. He didn't need to watch as the Dragon of the West attacked the figures, snuffing out as many fires as he could. The sounds were violent and loud—and so gloriously perfect and permanent.

Fire's extinction was so close.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Toph decided to go for the confrontation like a true Earthbender, but her strategy was less angry and volatile; she wanted to listen—she was tired of having to hold herself so tight together and pretend that she didn't want it all to be put behind her. Sure, she knew there was a lot of ways to go before things would ever be okay between them, but she reckoned that they had already gotten the worst of it out of the way.

Right?

"I didn't think you'd be this hard to find," she greeted, stepping into the training arena in the palace that was very similar—almost identical—to the one in Omashu.

It was how she knew that Bumi built it—or maybe Bor did. She wasn't quite sure. There was so much she didn't know anymore.

Bor's sigh was ragged, and his heartbeat increased, but she didn't know if it was from ire or desire. "I do not want a replication of our previous encounter."

Toph rolled her eyes, knowing what he was doing. "Stop being so formal. We both know it's badgermole shit. I've heard you say things that I'd never say."

"You always brought it out of me," he muttered.

It was painful to refrain from snickering like she once would have and remarking, 'Which you then put into me,' but she couldn't say that anymore; too much had happened, and she wasn't allowed to do that anymore. Instead, she shrugged. "I think it was for the best. Anju was always walking all over you until I got there."

It was quite the picture that never made sense since Anju was timid compared to Bor, who possessed an aggression that was similar to Bumi's—but only when he got angry. It was always just the fact that Bor hardly ever got angry that made Anju walk all over him, as Anju was quite princess-like, always making demands and expecting people to do as she demanded, even her cousin. From what Bor told her, Anju had wanted to marry Batsu since she laid eyes on him, but being timid, hadn't actually gone up to him; instead, she had Bor do the work and then gotten Bumi to accept a marriage—by being princess-like.

His heartbeat thrummed with vitality; he whirled to face her, and she had no idea what he looked like. She had never really cared to know what anyone looked like in her life, not even her parents, and not even anyone in the Gaang. But Bor was different; it felt different—because she was different with him. Even though she had heard all the rumors about his ugly—she had even heard whispers of 'inbred'—appearance, which had been confirmed by Katara, she still wanted to know what he looked like; she wanted to see him and know him. She had memorized his face with her fingers, tracing his features with gentle grazes, so many times back when they were something—the only person she had ever done it to before besides her parents when she was a child. Bor was different, and she wanted to touch his face again and trace its contours, feeling that connection again.

She wanted to 'look' at him again—it had been so long. But it would never be enough because it had never been enough before as 'looking' at him with her fingers felt stale compared to actually looking at him as she wanted to. She wanted to see with her eyes what he looked like—see who he was. She hated her blindness when it came to him—because he was the one she wanted to see more than anyone else, the only one who really mattered. She didn't care about his ugliness; she just wanted to see him and have that joy.

But she would always be blind, unable to look at him.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

Toph sighed at his aggression—he was already angry—but understood it. "I want to talk to you."

"I don't want to listen."

"I could teach you how to do that," she pointed out, smiling, though she felt little amusement, only exhaustion and irritation—at herself. "I've never really listened. I don't know how I got to be such a good Earthbender."

Bor's posture relaxed; his body no longer seemed to fight against itself. "Probably by out-stubborning stone. If anyone could do it, it's you."

"I'd end up just breaking the stone. I'm not that adaptable, am I?"

A harsh laugh echoed. "Never seemed that way. Grandfather always said it, and I never believed him until it was too late."

"He was right. He was adaptable, but I've never been, not really," she confessed, hoping that she could reach a compromise with Bor. She missed him a lot, and she had always missed him after she left, but now that she was close to him again, she realized how deeply she did miss him—but, unfortunately, she had felt farther away from him than when she was actually away from him. She wanted that to change, and she had to make the effort—because she was the one who made the effort of leaving. "I had to adapt to being blind, but that was it; that's all I ever did. I couldn't have survived the Great War if I was really in it."

"Me neither."

She smiled and shook her head, not sure why she felt amused but knowing that she did. "Yes, you would. Bumi would just kill anyone in front of you."

His heart jumped for a moment before it calmed. "He didn't kill you."

Toph flinched. "No, he didn't."

Bor tossed the metal piece to the ground—he had been trying metalbending again. "He said he never liked you, but if he never liked you, he would have thrown you out of Omashu—told you to fuck off and made it so that you couldn't come back or anything. But you are likable. We all, even Grandfather, liked you—me most of all."

"I figured that out a long time ago," she pointed out. "When you kept asking for me to eat dinner with you and your family, it was kind of obvious. And then your heart gave you away, confirming it."

"Your face always gave you away."

Toph paused and felt an old fear spread through her because she had always wondered, especially as she got older, if her face expressed any of the thoughts in her mind. It seemed her fear was confirmed. "Does it give me away now?" she asked, voice more breathless from panic than she wanted.

Bor shook his head. "I don't know—not anymore."

She had the absurd thought that she wanted him to be able to read her face and see her thoughts depicted there—stupid! "Well, if it does, you'll see that I want to apologize about a lot of things but don't know how."

He was quiet, not moving at all, but she assumed his eyes were moving, staring at her, trying to determine her honesty; he had never been all that good at using his feet to 'read' someone, even though she had showed him many times. "If you can still know what my heart's doing, you'll know that I want to do the same thing."

Toph almost sagged with relief and felt a relieved laugh escape her, unable to stop her. "Good. Shit, this is hard! Now I know why we never fought before."

"Yes, we did."

"Not like this," she stressed. "This is fucking badgermole shit. What we did before was just a tussle. At least that back then had a purpose—it always led right to a good fucking!"

Bor's heart sped up to a rhythm that let her know that he was amused but trying not to let it show. "I think we've both been fucked long enough by this badgermole shit. It's a wonder either of us can walk. Do you think this is what rape feels like?"

Toph felt her face twist in surprise. "This? No, not at all. I was in Ba Sing Se when Aang lost it; I was powerless then—and more fucking scared than any time in my life by far. I couldn't do anything but wait for it to be over and pray that it would be over quickly—more quickly than anything in my life—while having no control over my body, unable to fight what was happening at all, because I was overpowered so completely. I imagine that's what rape is like. I don't wish it on anyone—except the Loser Lord."

She wanted to repay him for those vicious stabs he did to her that would have killed her if not for Aang.

Bor's heart stuttered in fear. "I'm sorry you went through that," he whispered. "I was scared for weeks that you were killed. I thought you died. It made me realize how stupid this whole thing was. We didn't actually know if the Earthbender who went with Avatar Aang to Ba Sing Se was you, and I prayed it wasn't—I begged for it not to be you. But I think I always knew it was you. Before that, before I heard about Ba Sing Se and heard that you were with Avatar Aang, I was angry at you for everything—so angry. I couldn't hear your name without snapping. But then I heard about Ba Sing Se and thought you died, and I couldn't be angry—how could I be angry? It felt like such a waste—so meaningless and petty. It no longer felt real. But then when you came here, I was happy to see you—I was. But then all the anger was there—it came back. I could be angry at you if you were alive; it meant that there was time for me not to be angry at you in the future because we'd have time to work through it. But I could never be angry at you if you were dead—I couldn't remember you like that. But until I saw you again when you got here, you were still 'dead' to me even if I knew you were alive. But the moment I saw you again with my own eyes, confirming that you're alive, it made all that anger come right back like it had never left."

"That makes sense," Toph conceded, knowing she probably would have felt similar. "I was going to die before we all came here."

His heart raced so fast she was concerned it would burst. "What?" he breathed; the word sounded strangled.

Toph swallowed and recalled those terrifying moments—that went by so slowly, too slowly—after Ozai stabbed her over and over again after Devi smothered her earthbending. Azula had tried to cauterize the wounds but had been attacked by Ozai, pulling her away, and Toph had been blind—really blind—and heard all the clashes and fire and lightning around her, felt the ground shaking not with her earthbending but own senses. And then she felt her strength and awareness ebb away from her as she felt Azula's body for a sign of life. It was the worst thing of her life. "Before we all came here, Aang, me, and Azula took the fight to Vaatu and Ozai; we underestimated it, and it was the fight of our lives." She really didn't want to have to explain Azula's return, which was too much, so she amended it: "Azula was really hurt, and so was I. Ozai stabbed me and wanted me to die; I lost so much blood, and I thought I was dying—I was dying. And I was a goner like all those people in Ba Sing Se. But Aang saved my life—he let Vaatu and Ozai go so he could save my life." She sniffed and wiped her eyes, amazed still—she'd never not be amazed!—that Aang was willing to let his ancient enemies go just so he could save her life, even when their friendship had been so questionable at that point. "Then he saved Azula's life, too. But I would have died if Aang didn't save me; I would have died without apologizing to you and feeling you again- "

Bor pulled her into a hug before she could react, and she embraced him tightly, finally letting the emotion of her more-than-brush with dying sweep through her; it had been a weight that had burdened her for so long because hers didn't seem that big a deal, especially when Azula had actually died and been haunted by the vastness of the Immortal Realm and so much energy had gone into returning her spirit to her body. And once Azula was back, Aang vanished for weeks, and everything was in flux and no one, least of all her, knew what to do.

His hands brushed through her hair, gripping with gentle but firm strength. "I didn't know," he whispered, breaths rattling in his chest, which she felt against hers. "I'm so sorry—Toph, I'm sorry."

Toph had missed his embraces; his arms were always so nice around her, and she nestled into him, letting herself finally relax and stop fighting holding herself together. "Me too," she breathed. "I've missed you."

He squeezed her tighter. "Me too."

"This has sucked all around. I don't even know how long it's been—I'm guessing a year?"

"More than that," Bor confirmed, voice soft. "Closer to two years."

"I don't want to make it a day longer," Toph decided. "But I'm not sure how to start."

Silence—until Bor let go and shuffled back a few steps, and she had long enough to miss his embrace before he spoke.

"I understand why you thought about your parents and all that pressure and lies," he said, heartbeat thudding faster, but it didn't race—for now. "I understand why you felt scared about the marriage; I understand why you felt trapped; and I understand why you felt like you couldn't talk to me about it right then. But what I can't understand—don't understand—is why you thought so low of me, like I would be your parents."

Toph swallowed and called the metal piece he had been practicing on to her hand; she gripped it and sunk her fingers into it, allowing it to center her—stabilize her. "I wasn't ready to think about that stuff. I know you could, but you're older than me. We never talked about it- "

"I know," he cut in, tired. "I know. I've thought about it a lot—too much. I did it all wrong—I know that. It was wrong timing- "

"It felt like you were trapping me because you did it that same day we got Zuko's letter asking for my help," she confessed. "I knew what you were doing, and it felt like you were trying to keep from going to help him—trapping me. It felt like you never wanted me to leave and would never want me to leave—or let me leave. That's why I thought you were going to be like my parents; that's why I thought so low of you, even if it was unfair."

Bor sighed and sat down right on the arena floor, back slouched. "I didn't want you to leave," he confessed, confirming what she had always known, but her initial mistake was in thinking his not wanting her to leave was born of malice or something; she knew now that it was something else—she felt it because she could think clearly. "I didn't realize how much I didn't want you to leave until I realized you were going to leave; I didn't realize how much I loved having you around—loved being around you and with you. But I knew you were leaving, and I kind of lost my mind."

She cracked a smile. "Kind of?" she dared tease.

His huff of a half-hearted laugh was her reward—but it was so much better than anything previously. It felt like a victory. "It wasn't kind of—I couldn't think straight. All I wanted was to keep you around, and that was my only focus, not anything else. I got tunnel vision."

"Then I got tunnel vision in knowing what you were doing," Toph said. "That's all I could focus on. And it was all compounding with Bumi's threat, and I had to leave."

Bor's fists clenched. "I'm sorry he did that; he shouldn't have done that."

Toph sighed. "I didn't help matters. I was asking for him to do it because I wasn't listening. If I was as smart as I thought I was, I would have realized it was a lot bigger than I thought. I made everything worse; I made the wrong decisions. I understand why he did that to Guron and his family; I hate it, but I get it. I don't even know how he did—how he willed himself to do it."

"I wish he didn't have to," Bor whispered, sounding distant. "He said he died that day, too. I wonder what he was like before."

She imagined a man so in love with his race, so terrified of them being conquered by Fire like Zaofu and Chyung had been, half of the continent, and so grimly determined that he committed sinful crimes to save everyone he could. What kind of man was he? What did he think about? What did he do to force himself to do it? Love was the only answer she could think of. "Me too. He loved, and he kept loving."

"It helps knowing he didn't do it for power," Bor said, swallowing. "It helps—so much. It wasn't a grab for power; it wasn't done out of lust or anything. He did it so he could save Earth and turn the Great War back on Fire. He took no pleasure in killing Guron and his family—it haunts him every day, I think—but he did it anyway out of love for everyone else, realizing that Guron was only going to cede more and more territory to Fire's dauntless assault."

Toph dared punch Bor's broad arm. "And it helps knowing that what you did was born out of love, too—because you loved me and wanted to keep me around."

Bor winced, body twisting. "It was still unbelievably stupid—I was an idiot."

"So was I."

"And it helps knowing that what you did wasn't out of hatred or anything; it was desperation—that's all. I understand."

The words washed over her, leaving relief—and annoyance. "That's all it took for us to be good? Why didn't we just do this sooner? 'Idiot' is right! Fucking idiots are what we are!"

Bor laughed slightly. "But I'm the bigger idiot because I'd ask you to marry me again."

Toph felt her lips stretch in a smile; it was a reaction impossible to contain. "I'd be much wiser about it."

"In telling me no."

"In telling you yes," she corrected, feeling her heart race. "But I'd tell you exactly what I wanted and how I'm not going to fit into a box like my parents wanted, and how I was going to leave to help Zuko and bring you with me."

Bor's powerful heartbeat thrummed in her feet in ways she hadn't felt in so long, open and vigorous; she swallowed at the sensation that was equally pleasant and invigorating. "I don't want you in a box—I never have. I want us both to crush some skulls."

A brief grin crossed her face. "And we'll get blood everywhere?"

"People will think we're dying."

That was exactly why she loved Bor—he understood. "All over our clothes?"

"All over."

Toph cracked her knuckles. "That's a good start."

"But there's more to the story," he added. "There's more to this one, too."

"I have so much to tell you!" she realized, blinking. "So much has happened; there's literally more to the story of what I need to tell you."

Bor sat down across from her, to which she followed his action. "Tell me."

She did.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Chin V's sister's return from her death was quickly overshadowed by the unexpected news of King Lonin of Chyung's sudden murder—decapitation, allegedly. But what surprised him was Chin V's reaction to the news, specifically when it became known that King Lonin's advisor was murdered, as well.

"A kinsman," Chin V muttered in revelation, and Ozai simply nodded. "He was one of mine. He gave me Lonin's ear. This sudden void must be rectified."

"At once," Vaatu decreed. "If Lonin's heir is unresponsive, we must move forward regardless. Our army is big enough."

Hama frowned, the first time she didn't glare at Chin V with distrust since Chin V's assassination attempt. "Piandao is most able, but if he encounters The Avatar again, he won't be able to defend himself, despite his recovery. He's not ready."

Ozai supposed that he should view Hama's concern over his safety as evidence of how strong her fondness for him was, but he was more annoyed that she thought so little of him and his cunning—even though he knew that she was right in her assessment. "You are here now. You will crush his heart."

Zhao laughed, bushy eyebrows rising. "He has no heart."

"That's perfect revenge on Katara," Hama mused, eyes sharpening in consideration. "She adored him like a son; she was like his mother. I accept."

He nodded. "We can take over Chyung- "

Chin V's sister glared at him with hatred, though she kept the peace; she had accepted the terms of her return immediately, but there were several times when Ozai caught her looking at him like she regretted her oath and desired to throw it away and attack him in revenge for killing her. "Lonin's death will complicate things."

"It matters little," Chin V cut in, barely looking in his direction—such was Chin V's humiliation for being defeated by him. "Our cousin was Lonin's advisor. Bipin trusted him. If Vaatu approves, I will go to him and declare my cousin's skills were my own, and he will accept me as his new advisor."

Vaatu's shadows hummed; it was a riveting sound. "Why must you go?"

"I am no longer needed here as Piandao has surpassed me," Chin V declared, eyes flashing in disgust and regret. "I can serve you more completely by going to Bipin. He will trust me, and I will have his ear. My forefathers and I have always sustained a close relationship with Chyung's kings for generations."

"Then we take over Chyung, regardless," Ozai pointed out. "It will be perfect."

Zhao nodded. "Enhance our already impressive numbers. I can't see how The Avatar's allies number anywhere close."

A thundering laugh emanated from Vaatu. "The Avatar has no allies but scarce ones. He has a handful—no one more. Our army is big enough to distract him, even when it is halved. Half our army—all Earthbenders—will go with Chin V while the rest will go with us to the North."

Ozai inhaled sharply, awe and yearning fighting for control within him. "It is time?"

"It is, Piandao," Vaatu confirmed. "Your patience has reached its conclusion."

Hama smiled; she looked gladdened for his sake, which was a strange rarity he had only experienced one other time in his life—with Ursa. "You'll be healed—be whole."

Zhao's golden eyes glimmered. "Congratulations, Piandao."

Ozai lacked words for long moments, body shuddering with the inevitable rebirth he would undergo—he would be complete, with both his arms, since The Avatar maimed him five months ago. It was a miracle! It was redemptive! "Thank you, Vaatu."

Chin V and his sister were notably silent, resentful, while Vaatu hummed. "We will strike imminently. We prepare for our invasions."

Hama's brows pinched. "Invasions? We invade multiple times?"

"We will force The Avatar to choose between two places—or three, depending on if he receives word of Fire's crisis. Which will he save?"

Ozai's eyes lit up in understanding as he grasped Vaatu's strategy; he admired Vaatu more and more. "Between the North, Ba Sing Se, and the Fire Nation—pulled in all directions simultaneously."

"Yes, Piandao."

"Do you think he will choose Ba Sing Se to redeem his previous failing?"

"It is more likely, which is why we must go to the North to take advantage." Vaatu turned to Hama, darkness emanating off him in gentle wisps—before being absorbed back into himself. It was fascinating to watch—and would be always. "You were born in the North while Zhao fought there. We will rely on your memories of the place, and you will heal Piandao when we reach Tui and La."

Ozai briefly considered that Hama would have reservations about attacking the land of her birth, but she simply nodded; she must view it as an opportunity to see what kind of ruler her race needed. He believed she would be best—as his own vassal, of course. "Of course, Vaatu. Nothing will stop me from doing so."

"While we invade the North, Chin V will invade Ba Sing Se with his earthbending kinsmen and King Bipin's forces."

Chin V nodded in confirmation; he looked pleased by the plan, not at all sad that his cousin had been murdered. "Yes. Lonin's death works well. It will allow me to take a more proactive role."

Chin V's sister frowned. "Forgive me, Brother, but I suspect that King Bumi had a hand in this."

A fierce abhorrence ignited in those dark green eyes; it reminded Ozai of the hatred Chin V had directed at him after his sister's death—because it was personal, like his connection to the Scourge of Fire. "He is positioning himself to take over," Chin V hissed with a furious insistence. "He knows Tornor is nothing but a whisper and thinks the continent and our race will be his. But he is wrong. I must remind him of my existence. It is insulting that he forgot it." A fond, wistful laugh echoed. "But I imagine he wants to forget that night and does everything he can to forget it. It appears he succeeded."

Zhao clearly realized that King Bumi referred to the Scourge of Fire as his eyes widened before an appreciative smile appeared. "I commend you in targeting him. He might be the only man on the continent who stopped Fire's conquest."

Chin V sneered lightly. "Because King Bumi eliminated all rivals. He was vain and hoarded glory and strength. If not for him, Earth would have been unified, but he lacked all intelligence and ensured we remained divided."

Ozai knew there was more to the hatred Chin V harbored for the Scourge of Fire but did not particularly care; it was insignificant to the anticipation to being healed of The Avatar's affliction. "The Avatar can never recover from our strategy, which is unbeatable; we are invincible now, only if we are willing to sacrifice. With each sacrifice, we will be rewarded and repaid in full in compensation. I sacrificed my arm to The Avatar, and I was rewarded for it with finding Hama and now am repaid in full by having my arm returned upon our invasion of the North."

"Well said," Zhao commended. "We understand what The Avatar never can—sacrifice equals victory."

"He owes a combined ten thousand years of penance to us," Vaatu added. "His penance is his demise, to which we will enslave him forever."

Ozai was breathless at the thought.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"I hate that you had to kill Lonin," Katara said, voice quiet, sitting on the edge of his bed in Ba Sing Se's palace; he had left dinner early, citing exhaustion, and she had followed him a short time later.

Of course, he had been unable to sleep—such was usually his pattern—and decided to meditate, to which she elected to watch him.

Zuko opened his eyes from his meditation, knowing that she was going to have trouble accepting it for a long time. "I know. But I had to do it. If there was another way, no one was intelligent enough to perceive it, least of all me."

Katara sighed. "I wish I was able to give you another way."

"Things can finally get moving," he pointed out needlessly. "King Bumi sent a letter to Bipin. There will be a response in a couple of weeks."

"And from the Sun Warrior Tribe and your uncle."

"Things are moving finally," he repeated. "See? Momentum is starting. We can start implementing ideas and execute preparations. We can try to take the fight to Father and Vaatu if possible—or simply make strategic adjustments to wait them out, preventing them from obtaining the Ocean, Moon, or Air Spirits."

"I hate not doing anything," she confessed, cheerless. "I'm not even healing. I don't know what to do. It almost feels like there's too much of us here."

Zuko had the same feeling and nodded as he stood up from his meditation. "That's why Mother and King Bumi are right. When Aang gets back, we need to discuss splitting up and doing what we need to do, all while oriented towards this bigger picture in fighting Father and Vaatu."

Katara's blue eyes looked relieved. "Good. But does Azula agree?"

His only brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Who else will convince Aang that it's a good idea?"

Zuko huffed in amusement. "She agrees—you know she does. Aang will agree, too."

Katara stood to her feet, but it was clear that she did not want to leave; she lingered, hesitant. "I'm having trouble with this."

"With what?"

"It's weird thinking about you like this now, but it's also not weird," she said, peering up at him. "Does that make sense? Or have you thought about me like this for so long that it's just easy for you, like nothing's changed or anything?"

Zuko was quiet for several moments before nodding. "It doesn't bother me or- "

"It doesn't bother me, either, but it's just strange; it takes some getting used to."

"The only thing that takes getting used to for me is the fact this all worked out," he admitted, shrugging, unable to prevent a brief laugh from escaping from his chest and out his mouth. "I thought this would never happen. I tried to prevent it from happening if you didn't notice."

Katara smiled, blue eyes amused, alight with memories. "I noticed—but not for that reason."

"I realized I was in trouble when I couldn't use a concubine anymore. But that was over a year ago when I stopped using the concubines. That's when I realized how serious it was, which meant I started thinking about you differently."

She clenched her jaw before determination danced in her eyes; she tilted her head up at him, direct. "What's sex like?"

Zuko stared, silent, deprived of utterance for several moments, astonished—before he recovered in anticipation. Her curiosity must be a sign of her desire! "Pleasurable."

"Only pleasurable?" she challenged, clearly wanting a real answer. "I think eating food is pleasurable."

"Sokka certainly does," he muttered before raising a hand to scratch his beard, combing his fingers through the coarse hairs, looking for inspiration. "It's sex, Katara—that's what it is. How do you describe color to Toph? You can't. I can't really describe sex to a virgin—I don't know how. I can only show you- "

"I'm not ready."

There had been a vague hope that her sudden questions were the prelude to something happening, but he had clearly misanalysed. As a result, Zuko blinked long and hard to suppress the groan that threatened his balance; he had been unaware—like a distant awareness on the periphery rather than the forefront—how deeply he anticipated having sex again, especially doing it with Katara. Once he became aware of that she might be interested, he was more than interested. He thought, hopefully, that maybe she would be ready quickly for it, but with it now delayed, possibly indefinitely, it was a grueling disappointment.

"I know," he said, trying to smile in reassurance, but he knew it looked like a grimace—because it was a grimace.

Katara looked amused by his sorrow. "It can't be that good."

"It will be even better with you."

"There's the sweet Fire Lord I keep telling you about."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "I'm going to burn that sweet Fire Lord alive."

"By burning him with desire?"

He was unimpressed. "That's you who does that, not me. And you've been spending too much time with Azula."

Katara's smile faded into something considering. "She said we are going to be sisters. After I got over that terrifying thought, I realized she's right. She's going to be my sister; my children are going to be cousins to hers."

"Some steep competition," he muttered, recalling his own bending struggles against Azula when they were children. "Her children will not only be hers but Aang's—prodigious and genius all in one. Air's new race is going to be great from its genesis, sired by The Avatar himself and borne by the most powerful Fire Princess in generations."

"Not everything's a competition," she pointed out, looking fond and amused, though firm. "Sokka never competed with me."

"It is Fire's way—everything is competition. There is a competition within those of Kai's line, remember?"

"There will be some Water in there this time," Katara reminded. "I think it will all work out."

Zuko considered everything that had happened previously, how so much had gone wrong for many generations, and found himself hopeful. "It has to. But I understand what you mean—it is hard to believe that this all worked out with us being together."

Katara smiled. "I think it worked out perfectly."

He stared at her, seeing the honesty on her face and sighed. "Will you still think that later on? You won't change your mind?"

The smile vanished, replaced by a baffled frown. "What are you talking about?"

Zuko gestured vaguely to his face and the rest of his body. "I know I'm not exactly a catch—personality included. I know you like personality, and my face resembles scorched meat- "

She did not look pleased by his words, which must be a good sign. "I chose you for you. I happen to love your personality—yes, you have a personality, even if you're unaware of it sometimes. And I love your appearance- "

He didn't bother to suppress the instinctive scoff that arose. "I don't want your flattery, Katara; I want your honesty."

"I am being honesty," she defended, blue eyes roaming his face, tracing his scar—without any hint of disgust or revulsion. In his long memory of her, she had never once looked at his face with disgust—hatred, sure, but never disgust. How long had it taken him to look at his reflection and not feel a revulsion so deep that he retched? It took him years, but it took her no time at all, apparently—if her evaluation could be trusted. "I think you're beautiful- "

"Just what a man wants to be called," he muttered, suspecting she was overcompensating by using the strongest descriptor she could think of instead of a more accurate one.

Katara rolled her eyes. "Fine—handsome. Is that better? I think you're handsome, Zuko."

It was better—but still not accurate. "No. I'm the ugliest Fire Lord in- "

She actually laughed—laughed!

He tensed, indignant that she treated it like a joke. "I'm serious- "

For some strange—cruel—reason, she laughed harder, and her face was jubilant in amusement as she stared up at him. "Have you ever seen yourself?" she demanded. "You're beautiful! Yes, I said it—beautiful. I know you prefer handsome, but- "

"I prefer the truth."

"And the truth is you're beautiful!" she exclaimed, looking at him like he was insane. "I actually think you're too beautiful."

Zuko stared at her like she—she!—was insane. "Too beautiful?" he echoed, dumbfounded. "Have you seen me?"

"Yes! I'm actually glad you have your scar because without it, you'd be too beautiful to look at- "

"You're lying," he accused, unable to believe—it didn't make sense! Although, there was a strange part of him that was flattered by her obvious flattery.

Katara shook her head, looking more serious—finally! "I know it's a horrible thing, but I prefer your scar. I like you having it. It gives you character; it shows that you have personality; it makes you look strong and powerful; it makes you look like an unbeatable warrior. It makes you you. Without your scar, you'd be intimidating with your beauty."

"And I'd look more like Father," he muttered.

She winced. "That, too. I don't want to look at you and see Ozai; I want to look at you and see you, and I do see you! And when I look into our sons' faces, I want to see you there. You're beautiful, and our sons will look just as beautiful as you."

Zuko found himself agreeing with her reasoning, not simply because he wanted it to be true. Katara was an excellent judge of character; it was one of the foremost reasons he had always wanted her as his Fire Lady. Even her known generosity in seeing the best in people, which meant she saw the best in his ugly appearance when no one else would, could accomplish many things to help him. "You're certain?"

Katara's brows rose. "Of course. Do you think I don't know what beauty looks like? Trust me, Zuko—you have it."

"You have it, too," he commended.

She smiled. "I know."

He sighed. "You've been spending too much time with Azula."

"Do you believe me?"

Zuko saw the honesty in her blue eyes and relented; it wasn't in her nature to lie, especially about something important. "I believe you. You really want our sons to look like me?"

He didn't want his children, least of all his sons, looking like him at all; he wanted them to look either like Azula, Mother, Uncle, Grandfather, or Katara.

Katara surprised him by embracing him and rested her cheek against his chest. "I'd be disappointed if they didn't."

A hysterical laugh escaped him because it was all so absurd! "You really mean that—I know you do."

"I do."

"I don't want them looking like me," he admitted. "I know how much I struggled; I know how much my line struggles. I want them to have Water's character, I guess. My line breeds monsters, and I don't want my children to be monster. They need to walk a better path than their grandfather, who literally, willingly allies with Darkness and Chaos and has unleashed atrocities all over the world, a direct enemy to the Four Races and The Avatar. Two of my great-grandfathers were best friends and one killed the other, waging a Great War across the entire world, killing by the race. If going by numbers alone, my line contains the most brutal killers in history—Kai, Houka, Ojas, Kazuki, Sozin, and Ozai. And those are only the Fire Lords, not the other branches of the House of Agni that existed. The line of Sozin is cruel, harsh, and vicious. Why do you even want to intertwine your blood with mine, the blood of monsters and tyrants? There's darkness in my line—there always has been, even before Vaatu. It's miraculous that Azula, Uncle, and I escaped it. I don't want our children to inherit that, to be like their grandfathers before them because I won't know what to do if they have that darkness."

"We would love them—that's what we would do," Katara said, smiling gently. "You can't worry about things you have no control over, Zuko. For all that you know, our children could take after their father and… Aunt Azula—oh, that's something I thought that I would never say—instead of their grandfathers, able to beat that darkness. I'm going to marry you and have your children because I know what good Sozin's line is capable of—I've seen it with my eyes. Yes, Sozin's line is capable of evil, but what line isn't? In my line, there were some monsters—I know there were. And like you said, maybe our kids will be a little more Water than Fire?" Amusement crept slowly into her expression. "They may even take after their Uncle Sokka."

"Don't even say that," he muttered with a shudder—but he began to feel better.

Katara laughed, the sound sweeping away the last remnants of his fear. "You see? I'm not changing my mind, not ever. This is it."

Zuko rested his cheek on her head. "I'd marry you right now if you wanted to."

He felt her smile against his chest. "I don't want to get married in this war; I want to get married after, the sign of a new start."

"I can do that."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Aang inhaled deeply, focusing intently on his inner flame, and snapped his eyes open with purpose, begging to find success after many failures.

Nothing happened.

He slouched against the rock in defeat, exhaling roughly. He was physically spent, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him.

For over the three weeks he had allotted himself, he had remained leagues away from Ba Sing Se, away from Azula and Samir and the Gaang, desperately trying to complete his training. Jinzhai had been a good and worthy instructor, guiding him through everything about lavabending. After lavabending had been completed to both he and Jinzhai's satisfaction, he began to focus on combustion-bending, eager to master all that he could.

But it became apparent quickly that combustion-bending was going to be a much tougher art to master than any other, even earthbending all of those years ago.

He had tried and tried, focusing with an intensity that would have most-assuredly frightened the Boy. He had copied every movement that he remembered Combustion Man—Fulki-Aridam was his name, according to what Azula told him—did, precisely tuning his body to the physical motions from his memory.

Aang had felt it, the insistent churning inside his chi, working in tandem with his inner flame, but nothing came to fruition, in spite of his best efforts.

To soothe his inanimate frustration, he transformed a small area around him to lava, feeling the change as it happened, watching it with a practiced eye. The air became hotter, causing his face to flush, and he looked upward, staring at Agni's great light. It was dull, a jaded light barely able to pierce through the surrounding clouds. And now that he was paying attention, Aang noticed how dark the day had become, knowing that it wasn't because night had begun to fall. What had happened? Was it Vaatu's power over Agni corrupting the spirit? But that didn't make sense as Agni had been allied with Vaatu with no ill effects for likely closer to two centuries than one.

However, while he had his own personal issues with Agni, the thought that Agni was somehow being harmed by Vaatu, renewed his determination to master combustion-bending, gnawing at the goal with rekindled vigor. He refused to allow Vaatu and Ozai to continue to reap chaos across the world, across both Realms, Immortal and Mortal.

Aang slowly stood up, closing his eyes as he recalled Jinzhai's words about looking at lavabending from the wrong angle, which had prevented Boruk from mastering it across his entire life, culminating in the great mystery Jinzhai inherited—until he looked at it from a new angle and solved it. His lids opened, staring with unseeing eyes at the world around him, thoughts louder than any ringing bells.

What was he missing? What answer was there? What solution eluded him like a true Master of Air?

Unfortunately, there was no guidance upon which he could call; there was no instructor; there was no master; there was no root he could follow. Unlike all previous times in his life—and his many lives before—he had no teacher to guide him as he had for all of the other bending arts, subsets included. How had Fulki-Aridam mastered such a power with no instructor? The man had truly been powerful, frighteningly strong, but his control was eminent for such a destructive, seemingly unpredictable, ability, and his chi flow was unique and vigorous, revealing that he was a master.

It was clear to him that the ability was exceedingly rare, unheard of—a myth like lightning. Azula and Zuko weren't combustion-benders, and they were of Fire's royal family with access to the world's greatest Firebenders as teachers, but none of Fire's royalty were combustion-benders—not even Sozin or Azulon! And he knew instinctively that Kai himself had no conception of such an unthinkable ability! But because of it, there was no continuance; there was simply nothing. It was something that he had to learn on his own, unable to even draw upon the knowledge and spirits of his predecessors.

Aang recalled every shred of information about combustion-bending with an almost manic energy, ciphering through each with alarming speed, including all his memories of Fulki-Aridam in his multiple encounters.

It had to be the chi—it was the only thing that made sense.

Fulki-Aridam's chi flow had been unlike any chi he had ever sensed, a strange yet harmonious cycle of energy. A bender's chi flow spiraled intensively around and through the limbs of his body, but Fulki-Aridam's limbs had no chi flow in his limbs; instead, a vortex of pathways all led to his forehead were all that Aang had been able to sense, to feel.

The river had been rerouted, and despite its redirection, the flow remained pristine.

He tore off his upper garbs and felt the air caress his body gently, warmly. He sat in the lotus position, holding his fists against one another strongly, the picture of a master bender. The scar on his back prickled from the heated air, and he remembered the knot of energy and power that had been rooted there, been stuck until the day of Sozin's Comet.

The Avatar State had remained a voiceless ghost during those times, eluding his every attempt to synchronize with his past lives. The chi flow had been entangled infinitely, almost like it ceased exist. He knew what the power felt like having experienced it before, but it wasn't where he remembered—it was nowhere to be felt. It was a haunting memory that faded and confused him the longer that time passed, ass nothing was like it should be. And it wasn't until his battle against Ozai while Sozin's Comet blazed through the sky, igniting every Firebender's chi with enough strength to rival a training Avatar, that The Avatar State had, thankfully, activated.

During that moment that changed the outcome of Ozai's almost-assured victory, when his scar had smashed into the rock with such painful agony, the knot suddenly dispersed, and the power had been there, shivering to be held and used, to revel in its brilliance! It had been intense and overwhelming and almost instantaneously, his chi flow was no longer hindered, and he had never been more relieved than he had been in that moment. It wasn't only him anymore; it was all of his past lives with him, a unified collective that knew exactly what to do, supreme in power and wisdom. A part of his soul had awakened after the forced slumber, and he had felt at peace for the first time since he had seen Guru Pathik. He was no longer blind, deaf, or tasteless; he was alive, truly himself, for the first time since Azula almost killed him.

Was that how Fulki-Aridam had been? Had he felt alive when he used his combustion-bending? Had the flow once been hindered with no limbs until its hindrance was defeated by rerouting the chi flow to his forehead? Was that it? His limbs had possessed no chi pathways, but the chi was still present and revealed its pathways in a new location, rerouting the river to his forehead, out of which eruptions flowed.

Aang inhaled strongly, the air quivering at the movement, and he delved into the flow of energy in his own body.

There!

He felt it, he could see it in his mind's eye, the infinite passages of chi flow that he possessed—even greater than an ocean in size and depth. It was beautiful, almost incomprehensible, the sheer power thrumming through the pathways at speeds that were beyond any bender, even the most powerful. He focused on his head, of any potential pathways that led there, and just as he had suspected, found none. He had finally determined why he had gotten nowhere trying to become a combustion-bender. The answer was in the very chi pathways!

He still intended to master the art, desperate for any edge that he could hold over Ozai and Vaatu, especially since he had his vision, and in his memory, he recalled how he healed Appa and Azula after Ozai's separate mortal attacks. He had manipulated the blood, coaxing it to create new veins, new blood pathway. In theory, he should be able to do the same thing for his chi.

Knowing that it was the only plausible way to create the chi flow to his forehead, Aang undertook the task with zeal.

Slowly, like when he approached the Baby Appa all those years ago as a young boy, he inched toward his actual chi, wary of causing potential damage—it would be catastrophic if he lost access to The Avatar State again. His chi pulsed with unfathomable power, and he felt the primordial essence, subsumed from Raava, the Void, and the Tree, seeped within—just as much as the existence thrummed within his own soul.

He smiled and urged the energy to create new pathways, intermingling with already-existing ones to produce a trackway to his forehead. For minutes, he patiently maneuvered the energy, wincing as he felt a burning spread across his forehead, at the point of his arrow, but he continued, knowing that he could irreversibly damage his body if he stopped. He gasped as the connection solidified, and a new pathway leading to his forehead filled with his chi's flow of energy, ready to use.

Aang opened his eyes and waved his hand, returning the lava back to its original state. He stood up, focusing on his breathing and inner flame, feeling the energy of the new pathway brim.

Just when he thought his head would burst, Aang's eyes snapped open and the fiery energy erupted out of his forehead, detonating the area before him in a display of destruction. He blinked and panicked as raging fires rose from the desecrated area, swiftly punching air currents into the flames, snuffing them out.

He had done it!

Aang laughed and rose hundreds of feet into the air, and once he walked among the clouds, he looked down at the patch of land in the valley and unleashed another blast from his forehead, watching with pride from the sky above. Incredible explosions ruptured the earth, and Aang could have sworn that he heard Devi screech but knew that it was only his imagination.

Curiosity spread through his mind and he drew water from the clouds and formed the liquid into solid, reflective ice. He stared at his reflection, pulling his hair up over his arrow, and his eyes widened at the sight.

Directly over his sixth chakra—the Light Chakra—and molded beautifully into the very tip of his arrow, the third eye-like marking that he had seen on Fulki-Aridam all of those years ago was perfectly centered across his forehead. But something was different, though. Combustion Man's had been a tattoo, but his marking looked like actual veins themselves, swirling in the eye-like pattern. He was mesmerized by the sight, and he realized that Fulki-Aridam must have had the tattoo completed directly over the veins.

He slowly lowered his hair, covering it, dispersed the ice, and wondered in a haze what Azula and Samir—his wife and daughter!—and his friends would think of his appearance.

XxXxXxXxXxX

I hope that you all enjoyed it. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I'd really appreciate it!

**Ozai begins mastering waterbending with Hama as his instructor. Ozai won't have near as quick success with waterbending as he did with earthbending, but it's offset by the fact that Hama is a much more willing/less bitter instructor than Chin V, and Hama wants to see Ozai succeed—and she wants to help him get there.

**Toph monitors Suki's pregnancy before having a conversation with Bumi in which she reaches an understanding with him—and remembers exactly why she had always liked him, even when he pissed her off and intimidated her.

**In case you forgot, Lee was the scribe who was introduced during Iroh's battle with the assassins sent by disgruntled nobles. Lee works for Vaatu and was tasked in infiltrating the Fire palace to strike a deadly blow—but only when Vaatu deemed it time. Well, Vaatu deemed it time, and Lee takes great advantage. But he also has his own objective—desecrate Sozin's tomb, which he knows, according to the stories and legends he hears, is located underneath the palace in the lava lakes. But Iroh catches him, to which Lee panics and pulls a lucky card out of his ass about knowing Piandao, who Iroh 'knows,' which changes everything. Iroh tells Lee about Sozin's sword, Embers, a very fire-blade. If you think about it, a Firebender's flames could melt metal so if he wanted to wield a sword with his firebending, a truly deadly combination, he would never be able to because the metal of the blade would simply melt. (If he diminished his flames' heat and potency, he could wield any blade, but he dances with the risk of his strikes not being as deadly.) Embers is a sword that Sozin himself forged so that he could use both a blade and his firebending at full potential.

To put it in layman's terms, if you didn't understand what Lee had done to the poor chef named Rokin, he used energybending and snuffed out the inner flame, but he went a step farther than Aang did with Ozai at the end of the Great War. Instead, he changed Rokin's chi, adding Vaatu's tainted energy to it, causing untold havoc. The chi is different now; its inner workings are changed. He replaced Rokin's fire with something different—a plague that can only spread. And in case you were wondering, Vaatu is who first changed Lee's chi to be able to utilize energybending.

**Toph and Bor make amends and start bridging the vast divide between them, making things okay.

**Aang masters combustion-bending! I hope you liked it. I struggled with how he would actually 'unlock' the ability, but I'm happy with how it came out. I hoped the chi pathways thing seemed at least kind of realistic. I based it on neural pathways in the brain. The brain creates new neural pathways every time someone experiences something new and/or different. And if part of the brain is damaged, the brain can create new neural pathways—sound kind of like Combustion Man? So, I sort of had Aang do something similar, creating a new chi pathway to his forehead so that he could utilize combustion-bending.

Well, I think that is everything. I hope that you all enjoyed it, and I would really appreciate it if you left a review to tell me what you thought about it.

Stay Safe
ButtonPusher