By the time Aang reached Shinchou, it was dark enough that he was able to breeze freely through the trees and across the rooftops, all the way up to the factory, without being seen. Of course, the thick blanket of smog helped as well. But that was also a problem, as it made breathing difficult. Trusting himself to the darkness, Aang untied his headband, and replaced it across his mouth and nose to filter out the heavy, filth-laden air.

Within no time, he had bounced his way up between the two towering smokestacks, and was standing on the lip of one, blinking back the soot as he peered down into its mouth. The rim of the chimney was crusted with grime, clinging to the insides so thickly that there was half as much area to let the smoke out as there probably could be. And this gave Aang an idea.

Experimentally, he attempted to bend the brittle substance, and was pleased to find that there was more than enough residual coal in the compacted dust to affect with his earth bending.

“No problem,” he whispered to himself.

Pulling his hands together prayer-like, he closed his eyes, concentrating and focusing his chi for the task. Two even, steady breaths later, he began to bend. His movements were slow and graceful, his arms circling in wide sweeping motions across his body, reaching out over the sleepy town below and pulling the dark cloud of soot with each arc.

The blackened air responded to his call, shifting and swirling languidly at first and then building speed until it began to form a loose funnel around him. He swung his arms faster and faster, straining against the unfamiliar weight of the air until he had to use earth bending to augment his air bending. He smiled to himself as he acknowledged that this was something only an Avatar could do. This realization gave him a heady rush of empowerment…and it felt good.

With each successive pull, the massive cloud swirled ever tighter, and Aang brought his hands closer together, circling them around each other as the soot rose up over his head where it hovered in a whirling black cyclone. Once he had wound the funnel into a sufficiently thin pillar, he took a deep breath.

Unleashing a powerful yell, he hurled the spinning black column straight down into the chimney, forcing it all the way down the length of the smokestack. With more soot still swirling above him, Aang lept over to the other chimney and forced the rest of the cloud down in the same fashion.

His arms trembled with exertion as he forced the soot and grime against the walls of the smokestacks and hardening it into solid plugs that extended the full interior length of the structures. There was a grinding and whooshing sound as the last wisp of smoke sputtered out of the chimneys, before they closed off with a crunch of finality.

Glancing up at the sky, he noticed that some of the smog still lingered, remaining trapped under the mist hanging over the valley. He drew in another deep breath and then, removing the headband from mouth, he blew with all his might, releasing a blast of air into the fog and dispelling it completely.

Aang stood on the smokestack, gazing at the stars twinkling overhead and smiled with pride.

“All in a days work for the Avatar,” he grinned, retying his headband across his forehead.

But a shuddering beneath his feet brought him back to the moment. The clogged chimneys were backing up, unable to release the smoke any longer. Aang smiled down at his handiwork, and then quickly lept away.

---

Inside the factory, the sealed boilers were now filling with smoke, and it seeped from cracks in the furnaces. As pressure began to build, the bolts holding the seams together started creaking under the force of the residue, until at last, they initiated their own release.

Pegs rocketed from their sockets, zinging and pinging around the room as thick black smoke rolled in cumulous clouds out into the factory, coating gears and pulleys, clogging in the vent pipes. It swept through the automated facility, burying everything in its wake with grime.

---

Zuko was led to a small, enclosed courtyard behind the jailhouse that had been hastily assembled into a makeshift execution area. A large wooden block sat in the middle, singularly lit by the pale moon.

His bending had been taken from him with a few well-placed pinches from one of the guards, although they had graciously left him the use of his limbs and had even unlatched the ankle chains so he could walk. Not that it did him much good.

With one last useless tug at his bonds, he resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do, and he barely resisted as the guards shoved him toward the chopping block. But as he stood before it, his body refused to move any further, his mind racing. There had to be something else. It simply couldn’t end this way.

“Any last words?” sneered Yunzu.

Keeping his eyes fixed on his fate, Zuko said nothing. Yunzu nodded to one of the guards, the woman with the batons, and a sharp blow to the back of Zuko’s legs brought the prince to his knees. The chains dangling from his handcuffs rattled as they hit the surface of the block in front of him and he bowed his head as though in prayer.

A lifetime of failures flashed across his mind’s eye, and he concluded bitterly that it had all been for nothing. So many questions still unanswered, so many things left undone. And it came down to this. He was to be killed by his own countrymen at the behest of his own father, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. His only consolation was that Aang and the others were still out there, and he hoped with all his might that they would succeed where he had not.

The ring of steel pulling loose from a scabbard echoed through the tiny courtyard, and Zuko closed his eyes. He drew his last breath and held it.

Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek rent the night air, followed by a panicked shout and the whoosh of metal falling. Zuko opened his eyes just in time to see a sharp length of steel bury itself in the block, mere inches from his nose…and neatly breaking the ring that held all his binding chains intact. He didn’t even wait for the shackles to fall away completely before springing into action.

The baton wielding guard was the first one down, her feet swept out from under her before she could blink in surprise at the sudden unexpected turn events. But Zuko didn’t bother to discern what commotion had saved him. Instead, he whipped one of the chains that had previously bound him around the second guard’s wrist, flinging the hapless man across the courtyard to slam into the wall. It wasn’t until he heard Yunzu’s frantic yelling that Zuko finally figured out exactly what was going on.

“Get it off! Get it off!”

Zuko grinned. Now where had he heard that shout before? And sure enough, turning away from the man he’d just incapacitated, there was Momo chattering wildly from atop Yunzu’s head as he flailed desperately about, trying to pry the creature loose.

Striding calmly past the chop block, Zuko yanked the sword free of the stone and swung the tip around to Yunzu’s throat. Momo took this as his cue to swoop off and the oily guard captain ceased his struggles, holding his hands away from his body in surrender and fearfully staring down the length of the blade into the stern, glittering gold eyes of Prince Zuko.

“On your knees,” growled Zuko, and Yunzu immediately obeyed.

Keeping the edge of the sword pressed against the man’s neck, Zuko circled around behind him, letting the steel slide along the now sweating flesh.

“I was only doing my job,” Yunzu whimpered in a trembling voice, bowing his head contritely. “Please…forgive me, My Prince.

Zuko’s lip curled in disgust for a moment before quickly reversing the sword and slamming the hilt down into the base of the man’s skull, knocking him unconscious. As his limp body collapsed to the ground, the prince grated out a reply.

“You’re forgiven.”

Tossing the sword away, Zuko glanced around for his rescuer and spotted him just before he flew down to land on the fire bender’s shoulder with a happy purr.

“Thanks, Momo,” he murmured sincerely, leaning his forehead against the lemur’s and rubbing him fondly between the ears, “I really owe you one.”

---

Within minutes, Zuko had recovered his swords and satchel and was racing down an alleyway with Momo flying alongside him. He hadn’t gotten far when shouts and heavy footfalls rang out through the dark streets.

“Search down there!”

A pair of guards broke off from the others, heading toward the alley down which Zuko had just turned. He ducked into another sideway, clinging to the shadows. But much to his dismay, it was a dead end, and the wall was much higher than he could easily climb.

At the sound of a door creaking open behind him, Momo dove into the backpack, and Zuko spun around in alarm to face a brightly lit lantern. He dropped immediately into a fighting stance, but stood back up when he saw it was only a child…the little girl from the market, in fact.

She stood there, wide-eyed with shock, staring at him, and he back at her. It took him a moment to realize, however, that her attention was divided between him and the wall behind him. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he slowly looked over his shoulder to see his wanted poster hanging there.

The echo of booted feet drew nearer, and the girl suddenly dashed away toward the opening of the alley as the guards came into sight.

“I saw him! I saw the man with the scar!” she called.

Hidden in the shadows beyond her lantern, Zuko slowly began pulling his swords free, but he froze midway as he heard the girl continue.

“He went down that way!” she said pointing off toward another sideway, “down that alley across the street!”

It never even occurred to the guards to doubt her, and with shouts of ‘this way’ and ‘let’s go’, they turned and headed in the direction she had indicated. Meanwhile, Zuko cautiously came up behind her, a mix of gratitude, wonder, and half a dozen other emotions he couldn’t even name all pounding against his ribcage.

“You should be safe now, if you hurry,” she whispered, glancing back over her shoulder up at him.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity the girl had given him, he started past her toward the street, looking around the corner to see that all was indeed clear. Turning back to where she still stood, Zuko pressed his hands together respectfully and bowed with serene reverence.

“Thank you, Kiwa.”

And the next instant, he was gone, leaving the girl staring after him in amazement, blushing wildly at the realization that, not only had royalty, the prince of the Fire Nation, just bowed to her, a child…he even remembered her name.

---

Aang had just landed on a rooftop in Shinchou when the first boom rolled through the valley, followed by a horrendous, ear-grating crunch as the factory ground to a halt. A few more clanging sputters ensued before a final, whooshing thump echoed across the town.

A door below him banged open and two men came rushing out.

“What the-”

“The factory!”

As they hurried up the path to the factory, Aang heard them yelling irritably at each other.

“I told you this would happen! We should have cleaned out those smokestacks like I suggested!”

“Hey, th’ foreman’s the one that didn’t wanna do it! So don’t go puttin’ this on my head!”

Aang smiled to himself as he bounced his way across the rooftops. Here and there, he noticed people stepping outside their doors and looking out their windows to see what the commotion was. At first, they peered up at the factory, but one by one, their gazes shifted higher to another, far more astounding sight.

They were staring at the stars, clear in the sky for the first time in years.

Just as he was about to make another leap, Aang noticed a familiar figure come out to stand on the back porch of the building where he was perched. Only then, did Aang realize he was at the inn. He dropped down to land next Kento and, startled, the boy looked at Aang with surprise.

“I thought you left earlier today,” he stammered in confusion.

“I did,” answered Aang, lifting his eyes to twinkling stars overhead. “But I needed to come back and take care of something.”

After a few moments of silence during which both boys gazed up at the sky, Aang commented casually.

“The stars look pretty amazing tonight.”

“Yeah,” whispered Kento, not taking his eyes from the spectacular sight, “I've never seen them this clearly before. It’s as if this day has just been full of miracles. It almost makes me forget that it could all end soon. We may not have been cursed by the Avatar, but he’s still out there...somewhere.”

Unnoticed by the older teen, Aang sighed and closed his eyes.

“You know,” he said quietly, “The Avatar isn’t here to destroy the Fire Nation...”

At this, Kento finally pulled his gaze away from the sky to fix a curious stare upon the boy next to him, and he was surprised at the expression he found there: sadness, and an almost desperate pleading for understanding.

“...I’m trying to save it.”

In the time it took Kento to blink his eyes in shock, Aang was gone, a soft rustle of wind the only evidence he had been there at all. Kento was still staring at the empty space the Avatar had recently occupied when his mother came outside.

“Kento? Who were you talk-” she began to ask, but stopped with a gasp when she noticed the stars shining brightly in the night. “Oh my,” she breathed. Then shaking her head in wonder she sighed and murmured, “Today has been like a gift from the spirits.”

“Yeah,” Kento agreed somberly, his brow furrowing for a second before he lifted his gaze once more to stare in awe at the stars.

“I think maybe it was.”

fin

---

Author’s note:

I think some people may be misunderstanding my comments about losing interest in this project, so I want to try and clear a few things up. First of all, I am NOT feeling insecure about my writing. The positive reviews I've received from the majority of you have more than proven to me that I’m doing a good job, and I’m still enjoying what I write. The problem is not a lack of self-esteem OR enjoyment so quit ragging me about it!

I started writing these stories because I missed the show. I missed having new episodes to ogle and enjoy, so I wrote my own stuff to fill that void. But with the start of the third season, I’m not missing Avatar anymore! The need to satisfy my Avatar craving is no longer there because I LOVE the new episodes. I’m so content with the canon that the drive to write my own thing has simply fallen to the wayside.

That’s it. The whole thing. The entire reason. It has nothing do with me feeling like my ideas are inferior, even if they may be by some standards (and that’s merely an honest observation, not a self-depreciating complaint). It’s also not a matter of me not wanting to write. In fact, it’s the exact opposite!

I don’t want to stop! I really want to work on these stories. But every time I sit down to write, the only thing I can seem to get my brain focused on is the latest canon episode. Ultimately, I’m just enjoying the real thing too much to be motivated to write lately, and it’s driving me nuts.

So I only felt it was fair to try and explain why updates were taking so long. You see, I won’t put anything to paper until I get the urge to write. I refuse to force this stuff because I think it would show (and some people have already stated it has, which bothers me greatly).

And for the record, ‘encouragement’ in the form of telling me to quit writing if I’m not enjoying this does NOT help me. It pisses me off. And THAT sort of thing, more than anything else, is what has me frustrated enough to almost say ‘screw it’.

It’s maddening enough to know people are waiting for updates that I can’t seem to deliver; I don’t need the occasional individual to make it worse by telling me what a self-doubting basket-case I am, when all I was trying to do was explain why I’m writing more slowly than I have over the past ten months. I hate being misunderstood after trying to hard to be clear and forthright.

So for the last time, I AM going to continue this series and see it through to the end. I still have ideas I want to get out, and I’m still having fun with this. But while new episodes are airing, the updates are going to be slower. I can’t help it if I am more excited about the canon than I am my own fan-fiction right now. Blame Mike and Brian for doing such a fantastic job on the third season…

Now! With all that mess (hopefully) cleared up, I would like to do something to show my appreciation for those of you who give me such wonderful and inspiring reviews. The greatest joy I get from doing this is hearing how much people enjoy what I write, and nothing gives me more pleasure than to see my story through the eyes of my readers.

So, from here on out, until the conclusion of this mock-series, whoever gives me the best review throughout the course of the ‘episode’ will get to pick any scene from any of my stories, and I will illustrate it.

Important note: Best review does not necessarily mean one that gives me the most praise! It could be a very helpful critique, an entertaining reaction, mentioning a detail I didn’t expect anyone to pick up on, or just something that gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling. For that matter, it might not even be a single review, but rather a consistency of reviews from one person throughout the episode. Basically, it will be whatever excites, rejuvenates, or touches me the most when I read it.

There’s just one catch: I have to be able to contact you privately (via member reply/PM or e-mail address) so I can find out what scene you want drawn. Anyone who does not have a means of getting in touch with them will unfortunately be excluded from this (no matter how awesome the review).

This endeavor goes into effect immediately (starting with this ‘episode’), and the selected reviewer, along with the new artwork will be posted during the first ‘commercial break’ of the following ‘episode’.

So everyone please speak up and let me know what you think of the story: be yourself and be honest. And I in turn will show my gratitude for your input by drawing for one of you (per episode) any scene you’d like.