A/N: A disturbing subject will be mentioned later in this chapter. It will not be described in detail, but one of the realities of war will come up. Nightwish's "I Wish I Had An Angel" would not be inappropriate background music.

I miss my hat, Shirong thought, standing with Saoluan as close to one of the trebuchets as they could manage without sinking into the steel. There seemed to be a lot of open space on the rear decks of Suzuran. And there was. For firebending. Or even earthbending.

Whoosh! Thunk.

"Ow..."

Airbending, not so much, Shirong thought ruefully, watching Zuko pick himself up off the deck yet again, as Langxue winced.

"I guess I missed one of the twists?" the Kyoshi yāorén admitted.

"Not sure." Zuko got his breath back, and stalked over to where iron bars were holding down a scroll against the ship's wind... and any other breezes. "Let's take another look."

"You're not sure?"

"Stand there and dodge a few fireblasts," Zuko said dryly. "Then I can bring you a firebending scroll, and you can tell me how the form works."

"All right, I get the point..."

"Do you still think he's crazy?" Shidan said, almost in Shirong's ear.

"Gah," Shirong managed, earth-gloves ready to fire even as Saoluan's blade snicked loose in its sheath. "Do you have to do that?"

Pale gold blinked lazily at them both. "Do you wish an honest answer, Agent Shirong?"

"It's a dragon thing," Saoluan confided, securing her sword once more. "I think he can't sleep nights until he's startled something out of its skin."

"You are very close to right," the dragon smiled. "We are hunters. We test that which may be prey. We find it... amusing." He shrugged. "Walking among inattentive humans... it is much like holding a long feather, and coming across a sleeping cat. Irresistible."

"Resist," Shirong suggested dryly.

"When I've so short a time left to walk among you before we reach the harbor?" The dragon's smile sobered. "Zuko and Iroh know this, but I will tell you directly. Byakko will be sending aid. Yes, it will draw attention to us. But if my lady reports we have plausible word of a restless volcano, our firebenders will not be detained. The Fire Lord is arrogant and cruel. He is not foolish. No one can reign over ashes."

"I wasn't really thinking about that," Shirong confessed. He'd been trying not to think of it, more accurately. "I was listening to some of the farmers talk, while people were deciding who'd go with the prince. And who'd split off with your ship and Captain Donghai's associates." That had gone a lot more quickly and calmly than he ever would have dreamed. We're going to live on a volcano really did seem to be no cause for concern. It's cranky and potentially about to blow had given some pause, but no more than one in four had found Asagitatsu too much to face.

The Fire Nation is crazy. Shirong smiled ruefully. And here I am, following. "It just struck me that, well, I've never heard of some of the crops they were discussing. Oca? Mashua? Achira? Oogami nuts?" He gave Shidan an arch look. "Facing off with the Fire Army is one thing. Threatening a man's dinner menu? There could be consequences."

"If you've had glass noodles, you've had achira," the dragon stated. "I imagine our refugees smuggled them in as flower seeds, when your officials asked. Just as they would have with the others. Particularly oogami nuts; you've likely seen tall sprays of sky-blue flowers scattered all over the fields to strengthen them. They aren't nuts, any more than peanuts are. You probably won't notice the difference in a sauce unless you see them grinding the seeds ahead of time." He paused. "Though they can be a bit poisonous, if you get an inexperienced cook..."

Shirong stifled a groan. "Can't you people live without something trying to kill you?"

"Not easily." Shidan half-closed his eyes, thinking. "I imagine there will be difficulties. The grains we grow aren't truly grains, not as you know them. Teosinte-buckwheat, oca, the others... Much of what we tend either stores itself underground, or has seeds that can survive and sprout after being buried in ash. Wheat is a thing for sweet tarts, and other treats. It's not fond of high mountains or the seashore. And there's little of Byakko that is not one or the other."

"That's going to make things tricky," Shirong muttered.

"Food?" Saoluan glanced at them as if they were both nuts, even as she kept most of her attention on the pair arguing over airbending forms. "As long as we have enough to eat, who cares?"

"This from the young lady who tried to clean my galley out of river shrimp?" Shidan hmphed. "Food is morale, Warrior Saoluan. Our friend is right to be concerned."

"That wasn't exactly what I was thinking," Shirong said thoughtfully. "Farmers and fishers, they're the backbone of Ba Sing Se. How your treat the land affects the people, and the spirits. Who affect the land themselves. Earth farmers are about stability. Building the soil deeper and richer. While you burn what's left in the fields." He spread an empty hand. "We're going to have to figure something out. Spirits don't like being confused."

"We're heading north," Saoluan pointed out. "It's going to be hard to pick out spirits being upset when the whole ocean wants humans to keel over and die."

"Point." Shirong rubbed at a ghost of threatening headache. "This is insane."

"Oh, you haven't heard insane yet." Saoluan was watching the dragon, poised and ready. "Think about it. Makoto's still out there. She's been out there a thousand years. And no one's acting like she'll save us a headache by keeling over and dying. Meaning dragons live longer."

Shirong looked between Shidan's stillness, and the swordswoman's tense stance. "And?"

"So somebody knew where Asagitatsu was a thousand years ago," Saoluan said tautly. "How do you lose a whole mountain?"

...Oh.

Shidan inclined his head. "It is not an easy thing to speak of. Zuko knows, though I will remind him of the details... In short, one loses it by interference. From Makoto, and Wan Shi Tong."

Shirong traded a look with the Warrior. "Explain."

"Words limit one so," the dragon sighed. "And yet, they give your people a safety mine have never had. Save with Kingami, at the beginning; tales say he did find a way to record mind-tales, long ago... words, Agent Shirong. Brush and ink. Frail conduits, to carry truth and memory into the future. Yet chance and hope may spare them, to be found again even when all of the clan who wrote them are dead and ash."

That doesn't make sense-

Suddenly, horribly, it did. "Mind-tales... need a mind to carry them," Shirong realized. "Oma and Shu. She didn't."

"She did." Shidan did not flinch. "For Wan Shi Tong, she was the heir to Asagitatsu, with claim to all knowledge of it; she granted it freely to him, if only he would steal it from all others. That, for human knowledge. For that of dragons... with the Face-Stealer's help, she had the strength to bind water spirits like the haima-jiao. They are weaker than a dragon armed, less than we - but a swarm of them against one? Water against fire? One by one, she lured us away to death. Even Agni's children cannot return from drowning to warn of danger. Not if another power binds their souls... and none of their clan survives to light a beckoning pyre." Pale gold looked away. "Her clan did not survive Yangchen's death. So there was no one to warn us what she might be. None to warn that she was not the anguished last survivor, alive only because of a freak windstorm to ground her far from home. It took us centuries to suspect..."

The Dai Li drew a deep breath, reflexively hardening his will against that cold, aching despair. A dragon might be flesh and blood, but that power felt like a spirit.

"You," Saoluan blurted out. "It was you, wasn't it? You figured it out. This is personal."

"You have no idea," Shidan breathed. "Father of Fire... I was only a cub. Barely a few decades past a tumbling hatchling. And our clan had so very many hatchlings." He looked away, into nightmare. "She forgot to count us all."

Shirong felt his heart beating hard, and remembered to breathe. "You went after her."

"I was a child. And a dragon. We can be very, very stupid," Shidan said dryly.

The agent thought of that, and Zuko, and night on the shores of Lake Laogai. And shrugged. No comment.

"But I was also lucky," the dragon went on. "Though I did not think so, not then. The yamabushi found me."

"Who?" Shirong asked, puzzled. But Saoluan's not? he wondered, seeing her frown. Huh.

"The mountain sages," the dragon elaborated. "Wind brought them whispers, that great evil walked our slopes. That Shirotora and every creature Byakko sheltered was in danger. They listened." He smiled, bittersweet. "Master Ikkyuu had come for the ritual threatening a few days early; he liked to be unpredictable. His sages and students were meant to be a show of force to an entire clan. They were more than enough to capture me, and rescue what few hatchlings and eggs survived. And sit on me, until Byakko's lord could calm me enough to learn the tale."

Shirong could almost see the dripping slaughter. Shivered, thrusting his own memories of deadly water away.

"Ritual threatening?" Saoluan asked, dazed.

"To establish the boundaries." The dragon shook himself, obviously trying to push the past back into dark memory. "You go to the border, as your neighbor does, and there is much stalking and hissing and baring of teeth." He rubbed his head. "And someone generally miscalculates a hair, and gets their skull bruised. But everyone is armed - the yamabushi never insult us by coming unarmed - so no one gets hurt."

"Unarmed is an insult?" Shirong said warily. It felt true, no matter how crazy it sounded.

"You are so pitiful an enemy, I don't even need claws to deal with you," Shidan hmphed.

"Ah."

"The yamabushi saved what was left of my clan," Shidan said quietly. "Kuzon and I tried to save their kin from Sozin-" He stopped, and shook his head. "Shirotora would have saved us from Makoto, had we but known. The White Tiger may be no match for the Face-Stealer's power, but Byakko is his. Yet we saw a fair face, and felt fair thoughts... and invited her in."

"And once she had permission to enter your home, she could call in anything." The Dai Li looked the dragon in the eye, knowing that pain. "It's not your fault."

"I know that!" Smoke curled from the dragon's breath.

Stand your ground, Shirong told his shaking knees. Don't run!

"I know that," Shidan repeated, white-knuckled and pale. "And I know we were fortunate. She did not know how many of us walked among humans. We did not lose every adult. Only... most." A bitter laugh. "And that was not the worst."

Oh. Wonderful.

"We were so wounded," Shidan said simply. "So desperate to wall out the world and say, leave us to our grief." He looked down. "We knew of the pirates. But they knew better than to lurk near Byakko. So we thought them... not our concern."

"The pirates?" Shirong repeated, confused. He was getting in some practice with Tingzhe, yes - but trying to talk to someone who casually mentioned a thousand years of history still left him a bit dizzy. No. He can't mean- "Kyoshi's pirates?" Which was the wrong way around, entirely, but-

White hair dipped. "The same." A bitter smile. "So you see, you are wrong. It is our fault. Byakko has ever warded the Fire Nation from harm. That time, we failed. We could not look beyond our own pain... and so Avatar Kyoshi had no answer for hers." A gusting sigh. "And so. An Avatar's rage. A Fire Lord. And, eventually, war."

For a moment, Shirong had to bury his head in his hands. One thing to hear Zuko outline bits of the Face-Stealer's millennia-old plan to destroy humanity. Quite another, to hear it from someone who had been there.

"Makoto's fault," Saoluan said bluntly.

"Asagitatsu and Byakko were allies, once. And kin." Shidan's eyes were still distant. "So. For over three centuries, Byakko has been the raven-wolf to her sea serpent. Any one of us she catches, she will kill. But we could warn, and hunt her, and drive her off in numbers... and so she persuaded Sozin to slay us all."

"You hold Byakko," Saoluan snorted. "He'd have cut his own throat."

"Never underestimate what love will drive a man to do." A bitter smile. "He almost did."

"But why?" the swordswoman asked. "Why is she doing this?"

"If you encounter her, you may ask," Shidan said, coldly precise. "I do not care."

Something in the way he'd said that... "You'd be too busy staying alive," Shirong stated. "If she was a Fire Lady, that means... oh, bury me somewhere cold. She's that strong?"

"The match of a Fire Lord in strength," Shidan nodded. "Or more. Do not fight her, Agent Shirong. Kill her. Or flee." His whiskers twitched. "And be warned. Sozin is long dead, and Fire Lady Tejina with him. But by night, with the moon full or dark... she may walk in other forms."

Oh. Lovely. "We're all insane," Shirong muttered.

"Do you think so?" Shidan looked honestly interested. As if the answer weren't a potential insult to all his clan.

Dragons want the truth, the agent reminded himself. "Yes. And no."

"Well, that clears everything up," Saoluan muttered.

"Forget Makoto." Oh, I wish I could. "She'll go after us, or she won't. If she does, we'll... have to deal with it. She wants us dead? A lot of people do. At least that's simple."

Shidan raised a brow, listening.

"What's complicated is the human mess," the agent went on. "The prince of the Fire Nation is trusting the Earth King not to betray him, and the Earth King is trusting Prince Zuko to delay and divide the Fire Lord's forces. It should be crazy. Any of the Council of Five would call it crazy. But it isn't." He stared toward the west, where tree-shrouded banks still hid the river mouth of the harbor. "A year ago, a year to come - who knows what will happen. Here and now? I know Kuei. And Zuko. This might work." He glanced at the dragon. "You think of earth as stable, unyielding. Bound in tradition. And we are. But we're also the slope of the mountain, waiting for that one stray pebble to start the avalanche. That one moment when everything changes. Forever."

Shidan inclined his head, a gracious acceptance of offered truth. "And is this such a moment?"

"You've been throwing pebbles as hard as you can," Shirong said dryly. "Just what did you slip into our heads, under the cover of a story?"

The dragon smirked. "Very good."

"Good?" Saoluan echoed in disbelief. "You - you - what did you do?"

"I gave you tools," Shidan stated. "Tools, and templates. Those created by Ryuuko-hime, in ages past, so her bond with Kingami might be fruitful, and bring the joy of children to the clan. The same shapings used by her children, and her children's children, and all of dragon-kind who walk among humans. It is not easy for us to bear young, even with those touched by fire. That the Wen clan has four, when Tingzhe is Earth alone... you have no idea how rare a blessing that is." A shrug, red and dark blue silk shimmering in the afternoon sun. "Most of you will never have the power or the need to shape a mate. But the knowledge is part of the story. And yāorén do have that power." He cast a glance at Saoluan. "And in the past, centuries ago... yāorén sometimes used that knowledge for other purposes."

The warrior's eyes narrowed, suspicious.

"It is nothing that would harm you," Shidan said gravely. "But those who keep company with yāorén often find themselves beset by unfriendly spirits. And those with a touch of dragon's blood, born or gifted, tend to be more able to hold their own. And strike back." He smiled at Shirong, eyes terribly gentle. "After all, young man... how did you think you survived a spider's embrace?"

No.

He didn't want to move. He didn't want to think.

"I know one of our kin when I touch them," the dragon said softly. "I do not know how, or where, or how long ago. But if you have need of a home, if all else is lost... Byakko would shelter you." He let out a sigh. "Yet you were born to Earth. And my grandson needs that heritage of you, as well. His hopes rest on nurturing three elements among you all, so Air itself is challenged, and rises to defend its mountains once more." He shook his head. "Dragons are thieves, Agent Shirong. Of lives. Of gold. Of hearts. My own heart cries out to steal you all away. To forge you into Fire, that your hope and determination might heal my poor, ravaged nation." A bittersweet half-smile. "But I am one of Agni's children, and I know my duty. Be Earth. Be Dai Li. Remember all you love of Ba Sing Se, and make it anew."

Shirong raised an eyebrow, trying not to let lingering shock show on his face. "You want me to keep Zuko... grounded."

"Yes." Shidan turned to Saoluan. "And he will need your help, as well as Amaya's. She knows Water living among Earth. You know it living with Earth. He will need them both."

Saoluan gave him a measuring look. "You scare me," she said at last.

Teeth glinted. "I frighten many folk, Warrior."

"Oh, it's not the teeth," the swordswoman said dryly. "Or the sword. Or the fire. Or even the dragon." She let out a low whistle. "You. And the prince. You just - you don't stop. You pick what you think is right, you plan it - and then you go." Her voice dropped. "It's going to kill your people. You know that, right? You don't stop. And the Avatar has to stop you."

"I know." Shidan was just as quiet. "But to be otherwise, would not be Fire."

"And if you lose yourself, you lose everything," Shirong agreed bleakly. "Some things are worth dying for."

Saoluan eyed them both. Then, reluctantly, looked at her little brother, and the sudden snowfall around him as wind and water-shaping went awry. "Yeah."

"Snow." Stepping carefully across white-dusted metal, Zuko glared at the world. "Well, that's just-"

Passing by, Lieutenant Sadao's red and black uniform suddenly blurred. "Eyagh!"

Thud.

"Um." Shirong eyed the fallen lieutenant, and the sudden waft of smoke from the bridge. "You think-?"

"Strategic retreat," Shidan advised.

Jee's snarl could have been heard all the way to the shore. "Why is there snow on my ship?"

"We're what?" Aang blurted out. The sun was shining, Appa was grumbling under his covering sheet that the wind off the harbor was just asking to be flown on, and Sokka - even wearing a Fire Navy uniform - was grinning. He couldn't have said what Aang thought he'd just said.

"We're chasing Zuko," Sokka repeated. "Gotta say, I kind of like the irony."

"But - but-"

"Aang." Helmet concealing his blue-beaded braid, Hakoda looked down on him, serious. "We've only gotten this far because no one's looked too hard at where this ship is or what orders it's following. So far, 'in pursuit of Suzuran' covers a lot of 'not following proper procedure'. If we're lucky, it'll get us through this port. From here - well. We'll have to see which way he went."

"What makes it even better? Zuko knows all about hawks." Sokka rubbed his hands together, savoring it. "So nobody thinks twice about why we ask people where he's going, instead of taking reports."

"You think this is funny," Aang said, incredulous.

"You don't?"

"People are going to think we're trying to catch him!" Aang protested.

"Right. That's kind of the idea," Sokka agreed.

Aang rubbed at his eyes, willing the world to make sense. Maybe he was having a bad dream? "What if we do catch him?"

Sokka blinked. "Um..."

"Better think about it, Sokka." Metal shivered as Toph worked her toes against it, wrapped in a red cloak as she climbed out of the hold. "Aang doesn't think it's funny? I bet Zuko wouldn't think it's funny either. I know Katara doesn't."

"But she knows the whole plan!" Sokka protested. "She was laughing about it!"

"Less laughing. More, mwha-ha-hah, I get to drown them all if they look at us funny." Toph shook her head. "I've kind of got her distracted down by the waterline, seeing if she can feel the harbor like I do dirt. So could you think about this?"

"Come on, it's not like we're really going to catch... Dad?" Sokka suddenly looked worried.

"If we were only following Suzuran, I doubt we would," Hakoda said gravely. "She may be a freighter, but Captain Jee knows how to handle her. Which is more than we can say for this ship." He frowned. "But the Ba Sing Se ships are slowing them down. They need the wind."

And no one else could bend it. "So what's the plan?" Aang asked.

"Ah. Plan." Sokka grinned, just a little nervous, and scrambled for some paper and ink. "Let me get back to you."

"You do that. I'll go head off watery death." Stepping back onto the ladder as if it were dry land, Toph zipped down out of sight.

Aang rolled his eyes, and reluctantly walked away. Watery death? Sheesh. Toph acted like Katara could be scary.

...And, well, she could - but just in an "uh-oh, supper's going to taste awful tonight" kind of way. She wasn't scary scary. Not like the spirits were. Not like the Avatar Spirit was.

"You don't like Shaman Tao's lessons."

Ack. He'd forgotten Hakoda was still there. Following him. Toward his lesson with Tao, which he really, really didn't want to go to. "He's a good teacher," Aang stalled. "I need to know this stuff." I guess.

"That's not what I said." Hakoda gave him a concerned look. "Aang. There are many things a young man has to learn that aren't easy to bear. Which is why he should always have a father or a grandfather to go to. Or an elder monk, for a nomad." He smiled, rough and kind. "I'm no monk. But if something is upsetting you, I'm here."

Aang swallowed. "It just - it doesn't seem right," he said in a rush. "The spirits are supposed to be the good guys. The Moon and Ocean are! And Hei Bai was just upset. But Boots is a pest, and that sea-spider tried to eat Toph, and Amaya said there was an evil spirit in Ba Sing Se I didn't know about, and - it's just wrong! Spirits aren't evil!"

There. He'd said it. And now Chief Hakoda was going to laugh at him. Or worse, frown and tell him how wrong he was.

"Hmm. I haven't had this talk in a while," Hakoda mused. "Usually, children ask this the first time they're old enough to understand a bad birth..." He stopped, and looked at Aang. "But you didn't grow up with mothers-to-be in your temple, did you?"

"That was a nun thing," Aang said, for what had to be the thousandth time. "How can a birth be bad? Bringing life into the world is a good thing."

Hakoda looked startled. "Katara told me you dealt with a birth outside Ba Sing Se."

"Well, yeah," Aang said, wondering what he was getting at. "She seemed really worried. So did Sokka, before Hope was born. But they didn't say why."

"Of course not!" Hakoda looked shocked. "You don't mention the blood-drinkers and breath-stealers when a woman might be about to become a mother... you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"No!" Aang tried not to glare. "And I wish somebody would just tell me!"

The Water Tribe chief looked as though he'd rather be handling live scorpion-vipers. "Let's find a quiet corner. I think Tao can wait."

An hour later in Hakoda's cabin, Aang was clutching his staff like a lifeline. "Spirits can... spirits will... babies?"

"Koala-otters eat kelp. Leopard-sharks eat penguins. And some spirits prey on us, if we don't make them offerings," Hakoda said plainly. "Sometimes even when we do. That's not evil, Aang. It's just what they are."

"But it's wrong!"

"Aang..." Helmet off, Hakoda spread open hands. "That's life."

"But..." Aang swallowed, and screwed up his courage. "But if it is... then why didn't Gyatso tell me?"

Hakoda was quiet, glancing down; so much like Sokka in one of his thinking moods, it hurt. "Aang," he said, very carefully, "if you hadn't been the Avatar, what would your life have been like? How would you have lived, growing up?" He smiled a little. "We have a lot of stories about what the Air Nomads were like. But you're the only one who can really tell us."

Because the others are gone. It hurt, like it always hurt, unless he was doing things to forget. But Aang bit his lip and thought about it, because at least Chief Hakoda was trying to help. Even if the things he talked about were scary. "I guess... I'd be like the other monks," Aang said at last. "Maybe I'd work in the orchards. Or making gliders. Or cooking; Gyatso taught me how to make these great cakes..." He swallowed. "And when I was eighteen, we'd go see the nuns at the Spring Festival. And maybe when I was forty or so, the elders would say if I could train a student. And we'd travel, and maybe paint the temples if somebody dedicated a new room, and we'd always be trying to see if there was something neat new we could do with airbending..."

Huh. That was weird. There weren't any more words.

Hakoda shook his head, and held out his arms. "Come here."

"I miss them," Aang managed.

"I know," Hakoda said quietly, holding him close. "I miss Kya, too."

"I know I'm not supposed to - we're supposed to be detached, that's what Air is..."

"Maybe. But you're the Avatar, not just Air." Hakoda gave him a wry look. "I don't think it's wrong for you to miss them."

"But it h-hurts..."

"That's life, too," Hakoda said softly. "I'm sorry."

Hiding his face in cloth and armor, Aand sniffled. Great. Now I look stupid.

"All I can think," Hakoda went on, "is that Gyatso taught you what any young monk should know. And if that's how he grew up - I don't think it's his fault he didn't know how to teach you how the rest of the world lives." He tilted his head, inviting Aang to share the joke. "No teacher knows everything. Just ask my mother. 'Don't ask me about tracking tiger-seals. That's for hot-blooded young idiots out to lose a finger!'"

He sounded just like Gran-Gran. Aang couldn't help but giggle.

"It sounds to me," Hakoda said more soberly, "that you lived very safe lives in your temples. Very peaceful."

"Well, yeah," Aang said, pulling back a little. "We were monks. Peace was kind of what we were all about."

"The problem is," Hakoda said thoughtfully, "most of the world has never lived that way. Even before the war. I'm trying to imagine the life you lived myself. And I can't. Even though I'm one of the most peaceful chiefs we've ever had."

"Peaceful?" Aang tried to back up, without making it look like he was backing up. "You led all the tribesmen off to fight!"

"With the Fire Nation. Not with other Water villages," Hakoda said practically. "Sokka and Katara are far too young to remember, but before the Fire Nation began their raids, we had little ambushes every summer."

Aang recoiled. "But - why? You were all Water Tribe!"

"And we're all human," Hakoda answered. "We get angry at each other. We get jealous. Some people just want to fight. Or to show off for a pretty girl. Or - Tui and La, Aang, there's as many reasons as there are people. We're not monks. We fight. Hopefully for good reasons. Or what seem like good reasons; I'm sure even some of the men on this ship-" He cut himself off, and sighed. "Never mind. Tao's probably looking for you."

Deposited gently but firmly outside Hakoda's door, Aang blinked, startled.

What isn't he telling me?

Something's wrong, Dad had said. Find out what Tao's teaching him that we don't know about.

Easy for him to say, Katara thought, stepping carefully down the metal corridor. Sneaking around igloos for Gran-Gran to get an idea if people were feeling a little winter-crazy was one thing. Sneaking outside the door to Tao's cabin, where there'd be exactly no explanation they could give if Aang heard a noise and looked?

Good thing Toph had been willing to hear her out when she asked for help. Snow, Katara could sneak over without a sound. Steel? That took the earthbender's firm touch.

I just hope Sokka can keep Boots busy. Tao seems to know where spirits are.

Laying one hand against dark metal, Toph pulled with the other, like stretching a piece of seaweed gel. Slowly, carefully, until she had a taut, thinner layer, the better to poke holes in with a finger for both of them.

Putting her ear to the opening, Katara listened.

"So I believe part of your difficulty is in not recognizing there are different levels of spirits," Tao's voice came through. "You should learn of them all, but most are not powerful enough to merit the Avatar taking a direct hand."

Is he kidding? Katara thought, incredulous. The Avatar-

"But I'm supposed to be the bridge between humans and the spirits!" Aang protested. "That's what they told me in Senlin Village."

"The Hei Bai forest spirit is powerful, but a competent shaman should have been able to deal with it," Tao said firmly. "It's far beyond a kamuiy like Boots, even into the realm of a kami. But it is not a great spirit, that can think and reason much as humans can. Though never in the same way as humans do. Those few, those powers, are what we truly need the Avatar for."

"Great spirit?" Aang said doubtfully. "You mean, like Wan Shi Tong?"

"Did the owl tell you he was one?" Tao hmphed. "If he did, he lied. He is a very powerful kami, to be sure. But he is not one such as the Moon, or Ocean." A pause. "Or the Face-Stealer."

Katara shivered, and felt Toph touch her hand. They'd both heard Aang's story of the dreadful spirit he'd found going through the oasis. And Koh was supposed to be as powerful as the Moon? No way.

"I don't get it." She could hear the frown in Aang's voice. "If Koh's that powerful, why isn't he helping? I mean, I know he doesn't like the Avatar..."

"He doesn't like anyone human," Tao said, voice dry. "And I'll thank you not to use his true name so freely if you are not trying to get his attention."

"...Sorry." Aang sighed. "So why doesn't he like people?"

"Anyone who might have found the answer to that, didn't live to tell the tale."

"Well, that's no help," Aang exclaimed. "If we don't know what's wrong, how can we fix it?"

"You're assuming it's something humans can fix," Tao said pragmatically. "It may not be."

"It's got to be!"

"Does it? What if he doesn't like the sound of babies crying?" Tao countered. "There are lesser spirits who do not. And they will take drastic measures to restore what they think of as peace."

"...Yeah," Aang said quietly. "Chief Hakoda told me."

"Good. Though why didn't your mother-? Ah. Yes. Forgive me." Tao cleared his throat. "Sometimes the best way humans can be good neighbors to the spirits is to simply not draw their attention. Though as the Avatar, you always have the great spirits' attention. Whether they make it obvious or not."

"Okay," Aang said doubtfully. "So who are the great spirits?"

"You know of the Face-Stealer," Tao stated. "There are the Ocean and Moon, your people's Storm Lord, and Guanyin of the merciful earth with her deputies Oma and Shu."

"But they were humans," Aang objected.

"Were, yes. A very long time ago. They certainly aren't human spirits now."

Silence stretched out.

Predictably, Aang broke first. "Um. Aren't you missing one?"

"No."

Toph raised her eyebrows. Katara bit back a snicker.

"What about Agni?" Aang persisted.

"What about that creature?" Tao's voice was cold. "A true great spirit would never have let its people cross the boundaries set by the spirits at the beginning of time. Much less inflicted this war on us. Most of the Fire Nation doesn't even believe in spirits anymore. You saw that at the North Pole."

"Iroh does," Aang said firmly. "So does Zuko."

"Believing spirits exist is not the same as having faith in them," Tao stated. "For as long as the legends remember, the Fire Nation has had no faith in spirits. They build machines. They conquer the sea with ships of steel, rather than bow to the Ocean's tribute of storm-lost ships." He hmphed. "They don't even write their prayers such that the spirits can understand them."

"...You don't like the Fire Nation, do you?" Aang said warily.

Katara rolled her eyes. Toph frowned, pressing her hand against metal to pick up vibrations.

"I have over a century of reasons, young man," Tao said tartly. "I would not wish to see them utterly destroyed. That would unbalance the world even more. But there isn't a Fire Nation soldier alive who has not committed acts of pure evil."

"...Iroh was a soldier," Aang managed.

"Indeed he was," Tao said dryly. "How much do you know of General Iroh, and the Siege of Ba Sing Se?"

"Um..."

"I thought as much." Tao sighed. "If you're not convinced, call one of the spirits haunting this vessel. You can compel the truth from them."

"...Why would there be spirits haunting our ship?"

Uh-oh. Katara shot to her feet, heading for Tao's door to pound on it before things got any worse.

"You can't be that numb to the aura of lingering death," Tao said starkly. "Chief Hakoda took this ship, Avatar Aang."

Knuckles, metal, start pounding-

"Where did you think the blood came from?"

Wind blasted steel into her, and the world grayed out.

"-Wake up. Wake up, Katara, don't do this, I'm scared-"

Gritty hands against her head. And Toph was never scared. "I'm awake," Katara said through the pounding headache. "I'm - oh, no."

Tao's cabin was shredded. The shaman himself was barricaded in a corner behind a low wall of the stone Toph had brought on board, looking as dazed as anyone who'd been at ground zero of one of Aang's rare losses of temper. And the window-

The window's gone. "Where's Aang?"

"Not far enough away, when I get through with him." Toph's words were angry, but she brushed something away from one milky eye. "Darn dust... You were down, Katara. You weren't talking, you didn't hear me-"

"He didn't know we were here!" Katara defended her friend. What Aang heard, how he must have felt - it was awful.

"He didn't know there wasn't anyone here, Sugar Queen!" Metal creaked under Toph's toes, quivering. "I tell him to sense the earth. I tell him to listen. And what's he do when he loses it? This is it. We catch him, I am going to sit on him until he tells you he's sorry and he knows he hurt you."

Catch him? "He's not on the ship."

"Sokka and the guys are looking, but I don't feel him anywhere," Toph said flatly. "He's gone. His glider's gone. Appa and Momo are still here."

Gritting her teeth, Katara levered herself upright. "We've got to find him."

"Duh. Where? I can track dirt, not water. And for sure not air!"

Katara shook her head, and winced. "We don't have to track him. We know where he's going."

"The one spot no sane guy would be?" Toph grumbled.

I do not need to hear Zuko from you, Katara started to say.

And stopped, and thought better of it. "Ah... well, kind of."

Toph's shoulders slumped, and she groaned. "The Fire Nation."

"I think so," Katara admitted.

"Without us? Why?"

"Because we betrayed him."

"We betrayed him?" Toph sputtered. "How hard did he hit you with that door?"

"We should have told him!" Katara argued. "He wouldn't have been so scared if we'd told him about the raid in the first place."

"Told him?" Tao said, incredulous. A wave of his hand parted rock enough to stand up. "Young lady, are you seriously suggesting he had to be told? This is a Fire Nation warship! How could he have thought your chief gained it, save by deadly force?"

Toph blew out a breath. "Twinkletoes can be really slow about some stuff." She crossed her arms. "That's why we wanted in on your lessons, you old stick! You keep acting like Aang's from now! Well, he's not! He's from back when people didn't kill each other. Not around him. He didn't even see Sozin's Comet the first time it came, and you act like he ought to be just as mad at the Fire Nation as you are-"

"Toph!" Katara cut her off. "Tell Dad what happened. I'm going to get Sokka and some supplies." She set her jaw. "We're going after him."

Docked at the seediest merchant's pier he'd ever seen in his life, Hakoda stepped away from the Kichigai's rail, back toward their currently unwelcome ally. A few of his warriors were in town, playing the part of Fire Navy sailors to gain information from the locals. The rest were enjoying a well-deserved break before they flung themselves into the next stage of Sokka's plan. But Bato was here, a quiet guard against whatever powers a shaman might call... and a bit further off, Asiavik picked through his healing kit. To pick up the pieces, after all was said and done.

And quite a bit needs to be said, Hakoda thought, far beyond annoyed. Be smart, Sokka. Keep them safe. "I suppose I should be glad we're not having this conversation in front of the children."

Tao stood straight, dignified and unrepentant. "I know you consider the boy family. And any man would be upset to see a child race headlong into danger. But I had no idea he would react so strongly. It's impossible that anyone could be that naive about war. Even an airbender from a century ago. They watched Sozin invade the first time!"

The father in him wanted to strangle the man. The chief in him sat up and took note. Sozin's first invasion. Why is that important? "That was years before Aang was born," Hakoda pointed out. "You know what children are like. Anything before their time isn't quite real, until they grow up enough to take their tribe's stories to heart." He glanced aside, as if considering the matter; watching from the corner of his eye. "Aang has told me about his life with Gyatso. It doesn't sound as though stories about Sozin were part of the Temple's lore."

There. A flare of nostrils. White-pinched lips. Old, bitter anger.

"I know you of Earth like your grudges, but this is going too far," Hakoda said pointedly. "What could Sozin have done to you? You weren't even born then. And don't tell me it was what he did to your people. You know Aang better than that. He doesn't understand revenge. Hurting someone if you have to, so they won't kill you - that he understands. But last I heard, Sozin died decades ago."

"I bared my shame to the Avatar, he was polite enough to let it rest, and you dare tell me he doesn't understand?" Tao said darkly.

"Aang?" Bato muttered, just loud enough to hear. "Polite?"

Painfully true. If not quite accurate; Aang was polite. For an airbender. For any other tribe - well, he'd seen Sokka trying not to tear his hair out. "What shame?"

Tao's eyes narrowed. "That is none of your-"

He didn't like using his size to intimidate people. But sometimes nothing else would do. "My son and daughter are flying into the Fire Nation to find him," Hakoda said grimly. "That little earthbender, their friend, who has always been a reliable ally - unlike your army - is going with them. They may not come back. Tell me why."

The look Tao gave him was pure poison. "As I told the Avatar," he gritted out, "after the invasion, my mother decided Taku was far too unlucky to give birth there."

That? That was it? "My mother would have decided the same," Hakoda stated, trying to make sense of it. "Why camp where the enemy can find you?"

"Your mother," Tao snorted. "Doesn't your father have any pride?"

"They'd argue things out until they agreed on something," Hakoda answered. "I don't understand-"

Bato coughed. "Earth Kingdom. Fathers lead the family."

Ah. Right. And hadn't that gotten him in trouble sometimes, trying to negotiate for the tribe. He could forget it around Toph; the blind girl was so relentlessly self-sufficient he almost wondered if Kanna had forgotten a cousin somewhere on the Eastern continent as she'd made her way south. How had Toph handled her own father? "So they killed your father. Why not say so?"

He'd never seen someone so pale with rage and shame. "No. I suspect they would have congratulated him," Tao hissed. "If they thought of it at all."

...Oh.

Hakoda held his ground, unflinching. And he'd thought his daughter hated the Fire Nation. The pallor of the skin inside Tao's wrists, where sleeves usually blocked the weathering sun; the hint of other to the eyes, beyond the overall otherness of not Water Tribe. Little details he'd missed, covered by time and a manner wholly, deliberately Earth. "Aang didn't know."

"That's preposterous-"

"Stop." Hakoda stared him down. "Let me tell you about one of the most frightening things my daughter has ever done in her life. Frightening to me, at least; she didn't think anything of it. Did you know Katara inspired an entire prison barge of earthbenders to revolt?"

"A noble deed, but-"

"She did it," Hakoda cut across his words, "by pretending to be an earthbender, and allowing herself to be captured."

Tao started, shaken loose from his anger. "That young girl? How - but - where was her brother? Where was the Avatar?"

"They were helping," Hakoda said, not at all kindly. "You see, they were going to break her right back out that evening. She wasn't in any. Danger. At all."

Bato winced.

"The Fire Nation doesn't like to fight on ice," Hakoda went on. "They'd stay long enough to raid, kill or capture waterbenders, and melt parts of a settlement. That's it. That's all. They haven't raped a Water Tribe woman in my lifetime." He shook his head. "Sokka and Katara didn't think there was a danger. Why should they? They were chased by Prince Zuko. Apparently the worst he's ever done to Katara was tie her to a tree for Avatar-bait. He was the enemy. But he was never a monster."

Tao was silent, even as he was shaking his head.

"They didn't think of it," Hakoda said deliberately. "And I'm not sure Aang even knows rape exists." He sighed. "Apparently, young monks don't get to visit the nuns for spring festivals until they're eighteen."

"Until they're..." Tao buried his head in his hands. "Guanyin, have mercy. What have I done?"

"I wish she'd have mercy on the rest of us," Hakoda said practically. "He's not of our tribe, he's not of our time - I almost think I'd have better luck trying to understand a star dropped out of the sky." He sighed again. "If anyone can reach him, those three will. I just hope you've taught him enough to handle any nasty surprises we hit when we invade the Fire capital."

Raising his head, Tao blinked. "When we what?"

Hakoda grinned.

Draw. Aim. Loose.

Steel thudded into the target, even farther off center than she'd anticipated. The last rays of twilight were fading past the sandstone walls her Dai Li had raised around this patch of shore, and Azula could feel her fire dimming with them.

At least there will be moonlight to fuel us tonight. Azula lowered her bow, studying the target without a glance at the sky. The Earth Kingdom knew firebenders were weaker at night. If they hadn't realized firebending was even weaker on specific nights, she wasn't about to clue them in.

Not perfect. Not anywhere near perfect. Which was annoying. Far, far more than annoying; Fire Lord Ozai's daughter was supposed to be perfect, and if the court saw this-!

But incinerating the targets would be wasteful. And...

How very odd. She didn't feel like burning the targets to ashes.

That water-witch's fault.

Whatever that water-working had been, it stood like a railing between her and the ever-hungry pit in her soul. She felt the despair. She tasted the bitter ash of failure if she disappointed her father...

But so far, the pit could not take her. And it was hard to be properly afraid of something that no longer threatened her.

I'll lose my edge-

Azula caught that thought in a grip of steel, pinning it mercilessly down. It was flawed. Somehow. But how?

"Highness."

Agent Bolin, one of the youngest and most closed-mouthed of her Dai Li. With reason, apparently; Dai Li didn't work alone, yet according to Ty Lee, his partner had somehow chosen to stay behind with the Earth King. The airbender said his aura was still gray with the shock of losing someone he trusted.

Trust. What a laugh. She almost did laugh, as Bolin walked downrange and started carefully pulling shafts from targets. Imperfect aim or not, she could feather him between the shoulder-blades before he could blink.

But that would be wasteful. As casually, carelessly wasteful as letting Ty Lee shudder in terror until her mind broke, when Azula could soothe some of that fear away. And the Dai Li followed her because she was not wasteful. Not careless. Not foolish. As Long Feng had been all three.

The Dai Li trusted her not to be needlessly cruel. What a very odd thought.

Some fear is useful. It keeps you alert. Keeps you pushing forward. Too much fear, and the body overrules the mind. You saw it in Ty Lee. If she's too afraid, she can't think...

Cold. Ice in her soul.

Am I... too afraid of failing Father?

Fear led to impatience. Both led to sloppy work. And she should have managed Ba Sing Se far better than she had-

Bolin offered her the shafts, not glancing at the deepening shadows beyond raised stone. "We should get onto the ship, your highness."

"We're leaving just after dawn," Azula said coolly. The better to impress locals with fire, if it became necessary. "Surely there's no need for you to leave solid ground sooner than that."

And why wasn't Hai coming to tell her this? He was senior of the three Dai Li whom Agent Chan had assigned as her personal guard. Much more calm and unruffled than his partner Delun. Even if he did have the same attitude toward Earth Kingdom mail as a magpie-raven did toward shinys. Not coming to see her was an insult-

They know better than to insult me.

So there was a problem. Something Hai wanted to head off, personally.

"Princess." Bolin barely hesitated. "Agent Hai would prefer it if you would move over running water. As soon as possible."

Azula arched a dark brow.

"There's something out there. We can feel it." Under the shield of his hat, Bolin looked honestly frustrated. And worried. "We don't know what it is. Lady Ty Lee is helping them look."

"Ty Lee?" Azula repeated, not at all sure she'd heard correctly. "Is helping you look for a spirit?"

"She said it reminded her of something." Bolin frowned. "Something she didn't remember before."

Well. That was a different beast entirely. She hadn't been able to track all the details of what Ty Lee's beloved Elders had done to her, but Agent Hai had privately agreed with her that it sounded very much like certain... rumors that had always attended the Dai Li. Completely unfair rumors, he'd hastened to add, given all Dai Li techniques had been taught by Avatar Kyoshi herself.

Which means all the rumors are probably true, Azula thought wryly.

Amusing, but not her concern, except where it could help Ty Lee. Which Agent Hai had been doing, using Delun's nervousness to everyone's advantage. The acrobat couldn't help but try to cheer up such a glum, straitlaced fellow, and willingly chattered at him about anything and everything.

If she's remembered one thing, she's probably remembered everything, Hai had told Azula in private. If she hasn't... you can learn a lot from what someone won't talk about.

A useful tactic for the future. So long as she had someone else to listen to the torrent of noise.

"If you don't know what it is," Azula pointed out now, "running water might be the worst thing you could do."

Bolin hesitated. "True, your highness. But-"

"Your highness."

Azula turned.

Noblewoman, dressed for travel, the princess decided, taking in the long, crimson nails, the rich but subdued reds and tougher silkwool of the woman's robes. No senbon up her sleeves, though I'd bet on kunai in her hair. Rooted stance... firebender.

A firebender whose glance flicked to the bow in Azula's hand with only the slightest hint of narrowed eyes.

Hate and disgust, Azula calculated, as the woman dropped into a precise obeisance; noble to greater heir. Well covered... but not good enough. "And you would be?"

"I am called Nawahime, your highness." One hand made a subtle motion near her sleeve.

One of Father's spies. Ordinarily that would be good, not to mention entertaining. But now... "I will take your report. In private."

Bolin stirred. "Your highness."

She stepped just close enough for him to hear her whisper. "Make sure she hasn't been near Ty Lee."

Unhappy, he bowed and withdrew. Wise man.

Azula toyed with an arrow as the spy rose. "So. What is the news?"

"The Avatar is within your grasp, your highness."

That was unexpected. "The Avatar was declared dead," Azula said levelly.

"For purposes of morale." Nawahime's eyes were cold as her own.

"Not something you should joke about, Lady Nawahime." Binding rope princess? Father's spies were a bit too flamboyant, sometimes.

Which was good evidence that this was one of Father's spies, and not one of those Byakko ran for the Fire Lord. Old Lord Kuzon had made a habit of finding the most incredibly ordinary people to spy for him, and Kotone had apparently kept up the habit.

"Forgive my presumption, Princess." A slight bow. "My network in the Earth Kingdom was badly damaged by Earth King Kuei. But the Avatar was foolish enough to set foot outside those lands, and now... now we have found him again." Gold eyes blazed. "The Southern Water Tribe took the Kichigai by force and treachery, and the Avatar set foot upon it. They were spotted at harbor only a few days' sail from here. Seize him, and our victory is complete."

Taken a Fire Navy ship? Clever, clever barbarians. That explained quite a few interesting tidbits of intelligence. "Is there anything else?"

Nawahime's eyes narrowed.

"Don't be a fool." Azula kept her voice light, almost pleasant. "I'm not my brother. The Fire Lord's plans will take your report into account. That's all you need to know."

"To not act when your enemy is within your grasp." Nawahime's voice was iced silk. "To allow or even aid his escape... are you certain you are not your brother?"

For a moment, the world seemed to flicker red.

Calm. Control. "Who do you think you are?" Azula said, sharp as shattered glass.

"The pieces are set. The endgame is at hand. And a pawn thinks itself a queen," the spy mused. "You let your enemy run, and assume he will race into your grasp? That is a mistake-"

Ready for treachery, Azula lashed out with blue fire.

Nawahime... caught it.

Impossible.

"Silly child." Nawahime bounced the ball of flame on her fingertips, blue burning hotter and fiercer than summer sky.

Impossible, Azula thought. The last firebender to bend blue flame was...

"But you do favor my line, somewhat. Even with Byakko written across your face." Perfect lips pulled back in a snarl that showed far too many teeth. "Ursa's daughter. Damn the Fire Sages, and damn that puling whelp Shidan! I should have killed her in her sleep before she ever tainted Ozai with the scent of her hair-"

"You take that back!"

Because yes, Ursa was a fool, and a traitor, and Grandfather's killer, and she'd always loved Zuko best-

But she was Mother. And no one, no one had the right to say such filthy, hateful things-!

...Heh, Azula almost chuckled, as blue flames snarled and twisted over sand. Looked like she could pull off a good imitation of Zuzu's fiery rages after all. Good. The more Nawahime underestimated her, the better. Whoever - whatever - the spy was, she was good, and Azula needed every edge she could get as she spun and slashed and parried-

The hand that caught her heel-strike should have shattered like glass.

It didn't. It held. It squeezed.

Bones splintered. Muscle seared and flayed, charred by blue flame. The ground came up, and the world blacked out.

Get up, Azula told herself, somewhere in the gray haze. You're the Fire Lord's daughter. You are the strongest firebender in your generation. Get up.

Haze faded to almost-clear, to the sound of her own shallow gasps. Azula blinked, trying to move past the pain. Trying to think.

"Foolish child. Did you truly think you could fight me?"

Clawed fingers pierced her cheek, and fire burned into her mind.

"...An interesting plan."

You're in my head. You can't be in my head, get out-

"Crush your enemy in his own gamble. Ruthless." Almost a purr. "Worthy of Sozin."

I'll kill you for this, I swear!

"What. Is. This?"

Fire, searing across her shelter from despair-

Azula twisted. Dug fingers into sand as the world roared back, and threw.

Damn. I was hoping to hit her eyes.

But the creature had blinked, just for a moment. Azula wrung it dry, rolling aside from claw-tipped fingers, up and to her feet-

Foot. The other was a mass of blinding pain, and she was not going to look down. She didn't have to, as Ty Lee landed beside her and sandstone rose to block fireballs in a crash of sand and glass. "Azula!"

"Alive!" Azula snarled, as Dai Li dodged fire and rained stone back on the creature. "I want that thing alive!"

"Thing?" A dark laugh. "You don't even know what you are."

She knew that tone. She'd heard that tone, from Azulon and Father and in her own ears-

"I'll teach you."

No.

No time to think, as the creature eeled around rocks like a summer-dance, like Zuzu playing; robed arms were out and looping and the sparks, oh those beautiful deadly sparks-

No time to think. So she didn't. Only stepped in front of the target-

It's just pain just pain you know what she wants she was in your head she hates weakness hates life hates Air you know-

-And move.

Uncle could do it. Zuzu could do it. It couldn't be that hard.

Thunder cracked, and the world burned.

...Azula blinked, feeling lashes sweep over sand. She was lying on sand. Tasting sand, and salt, and that odd snap of a smell that followed lightning. And breathing hurt.

Burns. Burns inside, but not like fire.

Someone was screaming.

But Ty Lee never screams...

"-Bury her! Sink her and don't let her come up, oh spirits no, Azula-!"

"Uh," Azula managed. Blinked again; shadows, light, Ty Lee gripping her hand...

And a swirling whirlpool in the sand, surrounded by grim Dai Li. Good.

Blink. And the world had shifted again, Bolin and Dalun lifting her while Hai cursed spirits and spirits-in-flesh to turn the air blue. "Don't know if the scrolls the rebels in Ba Sing Se have been scattering to the Earth Army are right, and this is not how I wanted to find out-"

Sealed sand shattered. A whirlwind of blue flame roared up, coalescing into scales and mane and fangs...

A dragon. Azula's heart shuddered. The dragons are dead.

This one looked alive, hovering over them, breathing in-

Ty Lee shrieked, impossibly loud, pitch climbing high until it made the inside of Azula's ears itch. The massive head flinched.

"Here!" Hai shouted, outthrust hands compressing sand into a rising rattle of razor shards; Ty Lee bent and whipped-

A gale slashed shards through azure wings.

Shrieking outrage, bleeding, the tattered-winged dragon fled.

All the while, Azula's head rang with mocking laughter.

"Foolish child. You've set the stage perfectly.

"Did you think the Avatar was my only enemy?"

And the world slid sideways, and she had to tell them, had to warn...

Ty Lee. Gripping her hand. Angry and warm and alive, thank Agni, alive.

Ty Lee was here. It had to be safe. She could just-

"Azula!"

A/N: Yes, Shidan is giving Ozai way too much credit for sanity. Everybody makes mistakes.

Eshe is actually Ancient Egyptian, meaning life. (All the Touzaikaze have been given Ancient Egyptian names. They're from a desert, it seemed to fit.)

Just as I've used the milpa system as inspiration for Fire Nation agriculture, I've put in a bunch of actual Andean crops in here. They're exactly what you'd want for volcanic and high-altitude environments. "Oogami nuts" = lupin seeds. And yes, one type of Vietnamese transparent noodles (miến dong)is made not with mung beans, but with a crop that originated in the Andes. This amuses me, just like pizza being an Italian dish (tomatoes, heh) and "American as apple pie" (apples coming from Eurasia). Sometimes, people are just cool.

I've had this background for Tao in mind all along, especially after the prison barge episode. I know, in Real Life the reason Katara isn't worried about maltreatment is because this is a kid's cartoon. Even so. If people consider the Fire Nation monsters, and it's a more realistic setting... I'm sure some were.

And while shamans and medicine men may have been honored in many societies, more often they were respected - warily - because they were weird and dangerous. The social outcasts, barely accepted by the rest of their group. The outsiders. And yes, sometimes of mixed blood. Which is a lot more daunting in societies where your group is The Real People and everybody else is not. (And if the Earth Kingdom is modeled after ancient China - yes, that is exactly what they think.)

I know I'm hard on Aang. I find him really, really hard to write. (For one, I can't remember ever - ever - being as naive about the vicious things people do to each other as Aang is portrayed in canon.) Azula is easier for me to write than Aang.

But if Aang weren't Aang, this story would not have a happy ending. And it will.

...Well, mostly happy. With this many Doom Magnets? Sometimes, breaking even is good.

To answer a couple of review questions...

The amusing thing about Codex Alera is that I've only read the first book, and that only recently. Yet I do see some similarities. Heh. Probably due to the similarities between the Alera-verse and ATLA in general.

The whole story of Ryuuko-hime and Kingami: I have part of that written, but it just doesn't fit in Embers. Darn it. I plan to write the whole thing after I get Embers finished. Particularly since it will pick up various plot threads I have scattered in here. Heh.

"How big is Asagitatsu? Would it be like Mt. St. Helens? Or Krakatoa? Santorini used to be a volcano too."

Yes. Yes, it did. So did (or more accurately, is) Lake Toba. Take out the spaces.

http:/ en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Toba_catastrophe_theory

...What, did you think Koh was leaving things to chance this time?

Given some of the questions I've been asked about Ozai, Azula, Zuko, and the whole dragon-child mess, I thought I'd share a few genetics terms: hybrid vigor and hybrid breakdown.

A lot of people are familiar with hybrid vigor. Cross two very different pure strains, and the offspring can be more successful than either parent. There are various reasons for this, ranging from a lucky genetic outcome (not all hybrids do well) to the extreme that some genes (or gene complexes, bunches of related genes) are over-expressed because the other half of the hybrid's DNA doesn't have a "match" to them. (See mules and ligers.)

Hybrid breakdown is a little more complicated. It basically hinges on the fact that because of chromosome crossover (part of how most organisms form gametes to reproduce), we do not inherit genes and gene complexes as discrete units. Not always.

Let's say we have two "pure" strains to begin; call them red and green. Imagine each individual with their set of genes; a pair of chromosomes, two long strings of colored beads. (Humans have much more than one, but let's keep it simple.) Red parent has two strands of red. Green has two of green. Before they reproduce, crossover happens - but since they are pure strains, red crossing over with red still gives you a strand of red, and likewise for green. So your hybrid has one red strand, and one green. A good setup for hybrid vigor, and reasonably simple.

The problem comes when your hybrid reproduces. The red and green strands line up to crossover... and the resulting single strand that goes into the offspring (and its genes) is a patchwork of red and green. You may literally have part of a gene from one of your hybrid's parents, and part from the other. The resulting gene may not work.

It may work somewhat, but not as well as an all-red or all-green gene. (This, BTW, is part of what's called outbreeding depression.) Or it may not work at all... which can be lethal.

Now, if your hybrid dragon-child is breeding back into a plain vanilla human line (for example, Azulon and Ilah), this can be survivable. The "mixed" gene can be compensated for by a "plain" human gene, and all should be well. Plain dragon would also work - in the case of Sozin and Tejina, Tejina's "plain" dragon genes would compensate. Again, it works. (This is called introgression.)

The problem comes when a hybrid has offspring with another hybrid.

Hear that? Yes, that is a Hell Is That Noise. That is the sound of a million possible very bad genetic outcomes, cackling in unholy glee.

You now have the chance for mixed, barely functional, weirdly functional, or otherwise scrambled genes on both sides. And one of the most complicated, delicate, jury-rigged bits of evolution we have, so dependent on healthy genes, is a sane, intelligent brain.

Long story short: There is every reason Sozin, Azulon, Ozai, Iroh, Lu Ten, and Ursa should be sane and rational. A few of them might incline more to the draconic definition of sane, but they're sane.

Zuko and Azula, though, are screwed.

...This also explains why Azula the prodigy bent at four. Some parts of her genes are human. Some are dragon. The mix is not predictable. It is entirely possible for Azula to have some traits that are more dragon than Zuko, and others that are more human. And the same for him. It's even possible that one of the pair is almost entirely human. Though the odds are against it.

Crossover also helps explain how long-buried traits like Fire or Air heritage can resurface without being strictly dominant or recessive. Get enough scattered pieces of one allele to combine, and poof! Somebody's got a heritage the family tried to bury generations ago.

FYI, this is also why stories with "nations of half-elves" tend to have me tossing them across the room or Headdesking. Genetic inheritance does not work that way. If by some chance it did, we'd probably be talking about a situation of codominant alleles at one major locus, which means that of every four offspring, 2 would be half-elves, one elf, and one human, and you don't see that happening...

I know, I know. A Wizard Did It. I'd just like to see a story where someone thought about this...

Next time:

What am I doing? Aang wondered, shaking.