Chapter Text

Zuko

Zuko rolls over with a groan and licks his dry lips.  He squints, trying to block out the blazing sun but it’s no use.  He pushes himself up with a grunt and a wince.  His injuries are still healing from the traitorous actions of Zhao and his band of honorless pirates.  Zuko clenches his fist over the wood.  It doesn’t matter now.  Zhao’s been given a punishment worse than death, so there’s no reason to spare the man any more of his energy.  He coughs weakly and swallows against the dryness in his throat and mouth.  There has not been any rain or hint of snow in the days after their escape from the north.  Zuko should have expected it, this sort of slow torture is on trend for his luck.  He just wishes he could spare Uncle.

“Good morning, Prince Zuko,” Uncle smiles.  “How did you sleep?”

“Terrible.” 

“Ah yes,” Uncle laughs.  “Wood can be quite uncomfortable.  Especially if you’re old like me.”

Zuko rolls his eyes and looks around.  An empty stretch of ocean for miles on end, just like the last two days.  He clicks his teeth.  It’s going on the third day since they’ve been stuck on this pathic excuse of a raft.  He hasn’t voiced it, but he’s starting to get worried.  They can only go so long without water.  Honestly, they’re lucky a Whalesquid or something equally as dangerous hasn’t eaten them for dinner yet.  His luck is bound to run out though.

A thought hits him and he looks back at Uncle, brows furrowed.  “Where’s-?”

There’s a giant splash to his right.  A sudden weight lands on the poorly built raft and the wood dips dangerously.  Zuko shouts and grabs the opposite edge and pushes against the force.  The raft bobs before finally settling.

“I’ve told you not to do that,” Zuko shouts.  “You could have capsized us!”

The spirit just grins, “relax Zuko!  I know what I’m doing.  Look!  I’ve even caught us some breakfast.”

“We don’t need any more fish,” Zuko growls.  “We need fresh water and land.”

“Calm yourself, Prince Zuko,” Uncle says.  “Michelangelo is only trying to help.”

Zuko crosses his arms.  Of course, Uncle would take this childish spirit's side.  Zuko sends the spirit a glare before looking out at the ocean.  He was shocked when the creature first graced them with his presence.  It had appeared in a blaze of light and unnatural energy that still made him shiver.  Zuko stood the moment the boat tipped and his heart dropped when he realized it was a spirit.  If his life was anything to go by then the spirits had no love or mercy when it came to him.  He prepared himself for a hard fight, but his Uncle pulled him down until his knees and forehead met wood.  Zuko cursed himself mentally.  How could he forget proper etiquette?  You always honor a spirit when it graces you with its physical form.

“Oh, Great Spirit,” Uncle said.  “We are honored to be in your presence.”

There was no sound from the spirit for a long time.  Suddenly there was a touch on Zuko’s shoulder and he tensed.  He didn’t even hear the spirit move.

“Ugh, hey,” the spirit said.  “You wouldn’t happen to know where my brothers are, would you?”

Zuko looked up despite his better judgment.  The spirit was like nothing he’d ever seen.  All bright colors and warm welcoming features.  Zuko glanced at Uncle but his head was still bowed.  He looked back at the spirit and it raised an eye ridge.

“We do not know of your brothers, Great Spirit,” he answered, stuttering more like it.  “I’m sorry we could not be of more service.”

The spirit frowned and stood up.  “That’s weird, we were just together.”

There was a shift and Uncle’s head came up.  They stared at this strange spirit.  It turned its back to them and Zuko was breathless at the show of disregard.  Figures a spirit would not consider him a threat.  He shouldn’t take it personally, but he’s been dismissed his whole life.  He’s tired of it.  A hand gripped his trembling one and he takes a breath.  There is no use getting upset over the ways of a spirit.  They both studied its small form and Zuko was caught by its profile.  The spirit’s back held three repeating and somewhat glowing symbols.  It curved in a familiar motion.

“A turtle,” Uncle whispered.  

The spirit walked around the length of the raft.  “Are you guys stuck?  In the middle of the ocean?”

“Yes, O Spirit,” Uncle said.  

The spirit turned with a grin.  “Wow!  This is just like Life of Pi.  Except there’s no tiger, so maybe not the same.  Still cool though.”

Life of Pi?  Has this spirit helped a wayward soul in a similar situation?

“Are you some type of water spirit?” Zuko couldn’t help but ask.  They are still in the North after all, and water spirits are said to be vicious. 

The spirit frowned.  “Water spirit?”

“Forgive my nephew,” Uncle said.  “Of course, a spirit such as yourself has no use for human divisions.”

“Right,” the spirit said.  “You guys must have been out here for a long time.  You’re sounding kind of crazy.”

The spirit looked around and suddenly dropped into a low crouch.  A second later the spirit was gone, shooting straight up into the air and nearly sinking their only way to survive.  Zuko fell forward, hands gripping the rolls of wood but his eyes stayed on the spirit.  The height alone would have cleared his entire ship.

“This is very auspicious Prince Zuko,” Uncle said.  

“What?  How?”

Uncle grabbed him hard by the shoulders.  Zuko stared at him, shocked.  “Listen, Prince Zuko,” Uncle said, face tight.  “A very powerful spirit has appeared before us at our weakest.  A mere day after the Water spirit laid down its punishment.  This is no coincidence.  This spirit might not even know or reveal to us its true purpose, but you have been chosen.”

“Chosen?” Zuko said.  “For what?”

The spirit cut through the churning water without so much of a splash.  Zuko scanned the waves and jumped when the spirit surfaced on the opposite side.

“Wow,” the spirit said.  “There’s really nothing for miles!”

The spirit pulled itself on the raft and sat before them, crosslegged and face grinning.  “I guess I’m with you guys until I find my brothers.  And land.”

Brothers.  The spirit mentioned that earlier.

“We are honored.” 

The spirit laughed.  “You guys are so formal!  Do you at least know where we are?”

Zuko glanced at Uncle.  “The North Pole.”

“The North POLE!!!” The spirit shouts.  “Wow!  I’ve always wanted to travel but this is a bit much.  How’d I get all the way out here?  How did you guys get all the way out here?”

“Our ship was lost in battle, Great Spirit,” Uncle said.  “I am hopeful that another of our fleet will pass by soon.”

The spirit chuckled.  “You guys must be really dehydrated.  My name is Michelangelo by the way, not ‘Great Spirit.’  Whatever that means.  Everyone calls me Mikey though.”

Michelangelo.  Zuko had never heard a name so peculiar.  It felt heavy on his tongue.  The syllables too long and foreign for his voice to make sense of it. 

“Michelangelo,” Uncle said.  Of course, he’d get it on the first try.  “My name is Iroh and this is my nephew, Prince Zuko.”

“Nice to meet you guys!  Don’t worry we won’t be stuck on this raft for too long.  These things always have a way of working themselves out.”

Zuko felt his shoulders drop at the prediction.  Relieved to know that they won’t die out here as he assumed.

That was two days ago.

Zuko snatches a fish from the pile and starts chipping off the scales.  ‘Auspicious’ Uncle said.  ‘He’s chosen’ Uncle said.  All he sees is proof that the spirits are out to get him.  At least they aren’t being subtle anymore, maybe now Uncle will believe him.  What good is an all-powerful spirit if he can’t get them off this stupid raft!  Michelangelo has only been helpful in one aspect and that’s retrieving food.  A small blessing that they won’t be hungry when dehydration finally takes them.  He glares at the turtle.  Michelangelo’s attitude has not waned as the endless ocean stayed endless.  In fact, ‘Dr. Positive’ checks every few hours for ships or land, either by jumping impossibly high or swimming spirits knows where.  

Zuko pulls off the last of the scales and stabs the fish down the middle.  He’s not even hungry, but he needs the energy.  Uncle works calmly through a fish of his own and listens intensely as Michelangelo describes the beast swimming beneath them.  Apparently, the spirit world had nothing like it.  

Zuko dumps the entrails over the side and hopes that nothing comes to investigate.  He heats the fish in his palm and waits for the fish to cook.  The spirit looks over, like always and Zuko tries not to frown.  Michelangelo insists he’s never seen bending before, claiming his humans can’t do it.  Zuko still shakes at thought of humans trapped in the spirit world, forever toys for more powerful beings.  Michelangelo is some sort of trickster spirit, that Zuko is certain of.  The tales he spins are wild at best.  He’s a good storyteller though.  Although the spirit's demeanor changes every time they answer his most basic of questions.  Honestly, does Michelangelo expect Zuko to believe that he’s never heard of the Avatar?

Michelangelo stops talking and Zuko looks up with a raised eyebrow.  The spirit’s been a non-stop talker since he appeared.  Zuko follows his gaze.  The fish hits the wood with a hiss as Zuko shoots to his feet.

A ship.  

He can just make it out, a black dot on the horizon, but it’s definitely a ship.  He squints and something like a smile pulls at his mouth.  A Fire Nation ship.  

Zuko throws a powerful burst of flames into the air.  He breathes and lets his chi shift the color to royal red.  He holds the flame for a few minutes before dropping it with a huff.  He turns back towards the horizon and his smile falls.  The speck of a ship still sails away without a hint of turning around.  It’s too far.  There’s finally help and it’s too far.

He drops his head back and yells out a stream of fire.

“Be calm Prince Zuko,” Uncle says, but his eyes are dim.  “There is bound to be another ship.”

“We’ll be dead by then!” Zuko shouts.  He drops back down and tries not to burn a hole into the raft.  

“Relax Zuko!” the spirit says.  Michelangelo jumps to his feet in a smooth twist of motion and pulls out the two nunchucks.  “That ship is metal right.”

“Of course it is!”

“Great!” the spirit grins.  

Zuko opens his mouth to shout at the infuriating creature but he stops.  The weapons are glowing bright orange as the spirit starts to swing them.  Zuko watches in awe as one elongates and wraps around the raft.  “You guys might want to hold on to me.”

Zuko shares a look with Uncle.  Touch a spirit?  He can’t be serious!  Zuko hesitates and sets his shoulders.  He’s not going to start being afraid now.  Especially not of Michelangelo.  He scoots forward and wraps his arms around the spirit's leg.  The skin is scaled, hard, and surprisingly cool to the touch.  He glares into the red smile printed on the spirit's knees and wonders vaguely if that’s the face of a victim.  He peaks to see Uncle curled around the other leg.

Michelangelo swings the other weapon and his scales begin to glow.  He pivots, inhuman strength building beneath Zuko’s hand before the spirit throws the other weapon.  Zuko watches as the nunchuck extends.  He follows it and his jaw drops at the distance.

“There it is!” Michelangelo says after a moment.  “Buckle up!  This bus is leaving the station!”

Bus?

The raft shifts and then they’re moving at an incredible speed.  Zuko shouts and clutches the leg tighter.  The sea melts into a blur of motion.  The spray of water stings his unprotected face and Zuko closes his eyes.  He doesn’t know how long they raced across the water's surface, but the raft slows before finally coming to a stop.  The sounds of alarms and panicked shouts of a crew have Zuko opening his eyes.  

He stares up as Fire Nation soldiers line the edge, arms ready.  Zuko stands on autopilot and shoots a stream of royal fire into the air.  The soldiers move back immediately and the sounds of panic shift to calls for the captain.

Zuko drops his arm and stares at the spirit in shock.  

“Didn’t I tell you?” Michelangelo grins.  His weapon glows orange before unraveling from the raft and Zuko can only stare at the burn marks left behind.  Zuko follows the length of the second chain and watches as it to recedes in a blaze of orange.  It leaves a small hole in its wake.

“That was incredible, Michelangelo,” Uncle says.  A rope falls over the side and Uncle stands with a grunt.  He cups his hands around his mouth, “We bring a spirit with us,” he shouts, “do not attack!”

There are mummers of confusion before the Captain finally looks down at them.  The man is old, his face bares with pronounced sideburns and Zuko is reminded painfully of General Zhao.  The Captain technically can’t reject royalty, but the Fire Nation does not interact much with spirits.  They’re considered distractions for the common folk and old traditions held by more primitive people.  Most have never even seen a spirit.  The Captain finally nods before moving back.

“Oh man, I can’t wait to get off this raft!” Michelangelo cheers.  “If I can be honest, Dr. Positive was starting to worry about the bathroom situation.”

Uncle blinks before he tips his head back and laughs.  He laughs harder than anything Zuko has ever seen in a while.  

“Race you up there!” The spirit spins his weapon, hinges and the weapon elongates in a blaze of color to wrap itself around the railing. Michelangelo winks before shooting up the side of the ship.  

“Didn’t I tell you, nephew?” Uncle says.  “Very auspicious.”   

Aang

Aang sinks deeper into the leopardseal covers and tries to block out the insistent knocking on the door.  You would think after saving the literal moon that he’d be able to sleep in.  Instead, it’s been meetings, meetings, and more meetings.  What else could there be to talk about?  They probably want to discuss the prisoners.  Again.  Aang buries himself deeper into the bed.  He doesn’t want to talk about them anymore.  Not when the Chief is in the middle of grieving.  The man’s been on a mission since-.

Aang sits up with a sigh.  There’s no point in avoiding it.  He’ll never solve anything that way.  He flips his covers off with a groan, “I’m coming!”

He practically floats to the shower and lets the brief shock of ice water force him awake.  He’s moving quickly after that and the next thing he knows he’s stepping out of the room with a wave of his hand.  

“Finally.”

“Sokka!” Aang yawns.  “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to get you, mister Avatar,” Sokka says.  “The meeting won’t start without you.”

Aang slumps and follows Sokka down the hall.  “They might as well,” he mumbles.  “I’m not going to agree with them.”

“You should.”

Aang glances at Sokka and takes in the heavy bags under the boy's eyes.  The hairs behind his ears have even started to grow back.  Aang can’t even remember the last time he’s seen Sokka NOT shave it to maintain the wolf knot.  He knew losing Princess Yue would be hard, but not like this.  Not this slow decay of who Sokka was as a person.  

“Hey Sokka,” Aang starts.  “If you ever want to talk-.”

Sokka stops.  “Not now Aang.”

“But!”

“Dropped it!” Sokka bites.  Aang flintches and Sokka groans.  The older boy takes a deep breath.  “Look, I’ll be fine.  Just give me some time ok?”

Aang nods, but a weight settles in his chest.  He wishes, again, that he could wake back up in the temple.  Everything is just so different outside of it.  Grief isn’t meant to be dealt with alone, at least not at the temples.  They would rally around fellow nomads if they were hurting and take a piece of that grief.  He knew that the other nations had different cultures, but it was still a shock to him sometimes.  It makes him wonder if he’ll ever be a proper Avatar.

He follows Sokka silently into the council room.  Sokka takes his seat beside Katara and Aang offers a deep bow to the room.  

“Avatar Aang.”

“Chief Arnook.”  The Chief has aged at least 5 years since the invasion.  Grey touches his temples and a deep frown has made a home on his features.  This is why Aang doesn’t think it’s conducive to have this discussion.  The man can’t be reasoned with in this state.  

“Are you ready to discuss the prisoners?”

“I am,” Aang says.  “But my opinion has not changed.”

The room erupts into furious murmurs.  Chief Arnook nods.  “Neither has mine.”

Aang was afraid he’d say that.  Neither of them is willing to budge, which makes these meetings pointless and disrespectful.  He can tell from some of the older council members' reactions that they were hoping to break him down.  Aang straightens his back.  He might be a child, but he is still an Air Nomad.  He will not comprise his beliefs to satisfy momentary acts of revenge.

“Killing them won’t bring her back.”

A hush swallows the room.  Chief Arnook stares down at him, face still as stone, but Aang does not look away.  He won’t.  

“I assume you’re taking the spirit with you?”

Aang blinks at the sudden change of topic.  “Yes.”

A council member scoffs.  “And who said it will be leaving with you?”

“Excuse me?”

“The spirit appeared in our land,” a member adds.  “It stands to reason it’s here for us.”

“It revealed itself to me,” Aang says.  “The Avatar.  Besides, it wants to leave.” 

“So you say.”

“You heard it say that,” Sokka answers.  “You aren’t able to help it find what it wants anyway.”

The council says nothing to this and Aang frowns in irritation.  He thought they were past this.  The spirit made itself known a few days ago during a similar, infuriating meeting.  It came through in a blaze of green and blue, flittering across the room like a leaf.  Aang remembers staring at the spirit in awe as its feet barely touched the ground before it disappeared in a blaze of blue.  They searched the city for hours before they finally found it sitting on the edge of the wall.  

Aang remembers approaching it.  He floated into a sitting position next to the spirit, but the spirit kept its eyes on the ocean.

“Where am I?”

“You're behind the wall of the Northern Water Tribe, or on top of it,” he sent the spirit a look.  “Aren’t you afraid to fall?”

“No,” it answered.  “Heights aren’t really an issue for me.”

Aang took in the spirit.  He took in all its colors and the symmetrical markings covering its body.  It reminded him so much of the Air Temples that it hurt.  He focused on the hard curve of the spirit's back.  

“I don’t think I belong here.”

Aang turned back to the view.  “Well, luckily I can help with that.  I am the Avatar.”

“The what now?” 

“You know,” Aang said.  “The bridge between spirits and humans in physical form.”

The spirit huffed a laugh.  “What dungeon and dragons game did you pull that from?”

“Dungeons..?”

“Nevermind,” the spirit sighed.  “I looked around this whole city and I can’t find my brothers.”

“Brothers?”

“We were together when,” the spirit waved its hand, “this happened.  I have to find them first before you try to send me back.”

Aang nodded.  “How many?”

“Three.”

Aang frowned.  Something scratched at the back of his mind.  “There’s four of you?”

“Yeah,” the spirit smiled.  “Some of the best ninja turtles you’ll ever see.”

Turtles.  The curvature of its back was a shell .  Aang turned to the spirit in shock.  A real-life turtle spirit.  He’s heard stories from the monks, but he never thought he’d get the opportunity to meet one.  Four turtle spirits.  It can’t be a coincidence.  Aang stared up at the sky and a grin began to bloom.  He was not sure what this meant, but he could feel the significance.  Turtle spirits were supposed to be harbingers of change after all.

“What’s your name, Avatar?”

“Aang,” he answered.

“Mines Leonardo, but call me Leo,” the spirit grinned.  “No more of that ‘Great Spirit’ nonsense you guys have been shouting all afternoon.  I’m not a spirit.”

Aang let his head fall back with a laugh.  A spirit with a sense of humor.  

A few days later they were ready to leave for the Earth Kingdom with the spirit in tow.  Aang knew they would find the turtle spirits in the other nations, just like he knew Katara was meant to be his water-bending teacher.  They should have already set off, if it wasn’t for this last meeting with the council, which he’s now starting to believe was requested in bad faith.

Aang looks around the council room, at all the glaring faces and bows deep at the waist.  “Thank you for your hospitality,” he says.  “We will take our leave.”

“Now just wait a minute!”

“You can’t just leave-,”

“We haven’t finished discussing the-.”

Aang turns his back and heads for the door.  The guards send hesitant looks toward the council but don’t move.  “Please don’t make me fight you.”

The air leaves the room at his words.  No one moves for what feels like hours.  “Let them leave,” Chief Arnook says.  The guards part.  Sokka and Katara leave first and Aang turns back to the room, but he only has eyes on Chief Arnook.  “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

The Chief doesn’t say anything and Aang finally leaves.

They walk quickly down the hall and knock on Leo’s door.  The spirit opens it with a yawn, “so, how’d your meeting go?”

They share a look.  “It went ok,” Katara says.  “But it’s time to leave.  Are you ready?”

The spirit rolls its eyes.  “No, I gotta grab all the suitcases I brought with me.  Of course, I’m ready.”

“Alright,” Sokka claps.  “Let’s go before people start changing their minds.  The North Poles not that great anyway.”

“I thought it was pretty cool .”

Sokka blinks before he bends over, laughing.  “Pretty cool!  That’s great!”

The spirit grins.  “This guy gets it!”

“Not another one,” Katara groans.  She heads down the hallway and Aang follows after her with a grin.  This spirit is going to fit right in!  Leo moves down the hall and again Aang is reminded of the winds in the air temple.  Maybe they all represent the temperaments of four nations.  Leo definitely has a go-with-the-flow attitude.  His smile falters a little at the thought.  He wonders then, what the representative of fire would be like.  He hasn’t seen much good from the army, but if the spirit embodies the people, then maybe it’ll be different.

He can only hope.

Toph

She’s already up by the time her servants come to wake her.  She hardly got any sleep last night, too jittery about today.  She lets her hand play in the growing warmth from her window and scowls.  They’re late.  Minutes pass before the servants knock loudly on her door.  Toph sighs, “come in.”

The door swings open and the servants filter in loud and obnoxious as usual.  “Good Morning, Miss Beifong.”

She lifts an arm.  “Good Morning.” 

Sun helps her out of bed and thus begins her morning routine.  They wash her hair, bathe her and pat her face with fine powder.  The next hour is spent meticulously going over her hair and outfit.  Toph lets her finger tap in irritation.  All this fuss over a doll that can’t leave its box.  It’s different today though.

“Are you excited, Miss Beifong?”

Toph forces a coy smile.  “I am!  I have not been outside these walls in a long time.”

Sun hums.  “That’s great, Miss Beifong.  I heard it’s supposed to be a lovely day today.”

“Not like it matters.”

Snickers bubble amongst the servants and Toph grips the delicate silks of her dress.  She doesn’t say anything else and waits for the hands to finish with her hair.  There are two soft taps against her shoulder and Toph stands to her feet.  Sun grabs her hand and leads her out of the bathroom.  The servants filter out behind her and Toph rolls her toes.  A maid falls hard against the stone floor.

“Spirits! Lin are you ok?”

“She’s bleeding!”

“Someone get a towel for her nose.”

Toph squeezes Sun’s hand and the maid escorts her to breakfast and the sounds of pain fade to the background.  Toph sits and feels for her utensils with a tired sigh.  Rice and vegetables.  Again.  She tries to eat as quickly as she can without drawing attention.  She finishes her vegetables and pats her mouth elegantly before reaching for the rice.

There’s a clink down the table and Toph groans around her fork.

“So honey,” her mother starts.  “Are you excited about your little outing today?”

Toph smiles softly in her mother's direction.  “Yes, mother.  I’m very excited to walk around the city.”

“But not for too long,” her father grunts.  “I already spoke with your guide and he’ll have you back within two hours.”

Toph digs her feet into the ground beneath her.  Two hours!  It was supposed to be the whole day.  “I thought it was for-,”

Her father sighs.  “Two hours honey.  Your mother and I are worried as it is.”

Rage builds inside her like a mountain.  She’s never even felt the stone outside her own home warm from the sun!  Heck, she knows, they've practically threatened the whole town to stay inside.  They finally let her out and they still restrict her?  She feels the fury build in her throat before she swallows it like a landslide.  “I understand father.”

“Good.”

Breakfast drags for what feels like days before her father finally stands up.  Toph holds her hand out and resists the urge to jump out of her chair.  This is.  She follows the hum of her parents and reaches out for a solid, warm mass of her guide.  She smiles when she feels him near the front gate.  Her parents stop and go over the rules with him one more time, but she ignores them.  She’s almost there.  Just two steps away and she’ll be outside.

“Toph?”

She lowers her head.  “Yes, mother?”

“Be careful out there.”  

Toph struggles to keep her smile in place, but her guide jumps in.  “Don’t worry Misses Beifong,” the spirit says, “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“Thank you, Raphael,” her father stutters.  Toph snorts to herself.  He still stumbles over the spirit’s name.  “We are so blessed that spirit has chosen our daughter to protect.”

“...Right.”  The spirit takes her hand from Sun.  his grip swallows her whole.  “We’ll be back in two hours.”

The gate opens and the spirit finally leads her outside.  They walk slowly down the empty street and Toph forces herself to feel through the insufferable shoes.  She can't screw this up.  If they suspect anything she'll never be able to leave the walls of her room.  They turn another corner and Toph lets go of the spirit's hand with a cheer.

“I’m assuming we’re far enough away?”

“Heck yeah!” Toph grins.  She kicks her shoes off and sinks ankle-deep into the ground.  Beautiful, warm rock.  It doesn’t feel different, but it is.  She’s only felt this rock brushed cold from the moon when she’s sneaking back home.  This is different.  Almost normal.  Is that want everyone feels when they walk down the street?  The faint cracks from years of stress and the burrows of smaller animals.  She pulls her feet out and stands on the warm Earth.

Finally.

She takes off running down the street.  The spirit calls after her, but she doesn’t care.  This is perfect!  The only thing missing is people, but she can't help that.  Maybe she can feel around for a cart and see if she can steal something.  She's always wanted to try that.  The fighters at the arena always made it seem so exhilarating.  The spirit catches up to her though in no time at all.  For a spirit with such mass, he sure doesn't make a lot of noise.  Even his vibrations are quiet.  “You couldn’t wait for me to pick up your shoes?”

She rolls her eyes and slows.  “I knew you’d catch up.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

They walk down the street and Toph can’t stop grinning.  She can still feel the scurrying of different animals.  She wants to bury underground with them and never leave.

“I heard Lin fell today.”

“Who?”

“Your maid Toph,” Raph says.  “You broke her nose!”

“Oh please,” she scoffs.  “People break their noses all the time.  She needs to toughen up.”

“Or maybe don’t trip your maid with your weird rock powers.”

“Earth bending, spirit-boy.”

"For the last time," Raph sighs, "I am not a Spirit!"

Toph hums and balances on the edge of a nearby stone bridge.  She's heard stories of other kids doing this, but it's not as fun as she thought it would be.  "Sounds like something a spirit would say."

The buzzing mass of energy groans and Toph smirks.  He's so easy to rile up.  Things have been different since he appeared in the middle of a mind-numbing lesson.  He burned the yard with his appearance, leaving once soft blades of grass to crumble to ash beneath her feet.  It was a nice change of pace from the stagnant days in the house.  He's still burning now, or that's how it feels to her.  A simmer of heat or energy in every vibration he makes.  She wants to say it's like lava, but she's felt this so-called 'hot liquid rock' and has a hard time buying that it exists.    

Well, Toph's not really complaining.  She's outside for the first time in years because her parents proclaimed him to be her 'protector.'  A rock moves beneath her foot and she stumbles with a bit of exaggeration.  Heck, she even spins her arms like some of those haughty-taughty girls at the arena.  She's already caught herself though.  It'll take more than some dumb stone to throw her off balance.  

The spirit doesn't even look her way or move to help.  Toph straightens with a snort and a growing warmth in her chest.  Some protector.  

"I need to find my brothers," Raph mumbles.  "That's if they're even here."

"And then head back to the spirit world."

"It's not the spirit world!"

"Right," Toph grins. "This so-called 'other dimension' without benders."

"There are no benders in my world."

Toph reaches and places a hand on scaled skin.  Huge muscles twitch under her palm and the spirit stops.  "No benders?"

"Yes!" 

she nods.  "Like the spirit world."

Raph throws his arms up with a scream and Toph cackles.

Azula

Azula walks down the hall with a practiced and natural grace.  Her shoulders pulled back to the perfect angle to keep her upright without the pathetic puff of the chest like her so-called guide.  The General walks ahead of her with long strides and clasped hands that betray his nervousness.  General Joru increases his pace the closer they get to the throne room, and Azula represses a laugh.  If he was hoping she’d match her stride to his then the general was sorely mistaken.  In fact, he should know better than to outpace royalty.

She stops.  “General Joru.”

The man keeps walking.  “Yes, Princess Azula?”

Her mouth twitches.  “General Joru.”

He stops then and turns.  Azula’s not sure what he sees, but the man is on his knees a second later.  She doesn’t move, just stares down at the man until his arm starts to tremble.  “That’s better.”

She walks at a slow and steady pace and pauses just beside his prone form.  “We really should do better to remember our stations.  Don’t you agree, General?”

“O-Of course, Princess Azula.” 

She flicks her hair and continues down the hall.  She stops before the double doors and nods to the attendants.  They open it with a bow and Azula strides forward.  The room is empty and she sinks elegantly to her knee.

Father doesn’t waste time with pleasantries.  “Iroh is a traitor and your brother Zuko is a failure.  I have a task for you.”

She lifts her head with a smirk.  She knew it was coming, ever since the reports confirmed that the avatar had in fact returned.  Her Father had given Zuko a chance to prove himself, after all this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to leave an impossible banishment, but of course, he failed that too.  And so spectacularly if the reports were to be believed.  She secretly agrees that Zhao's plan was foolish, who destroys a moon spirit when the Nation is boarded by the tides?  His arrogance would have cost them everything.  If only Zuko was a bit more cunning, he might have gotten out of that incident with an accommodation and a dead adversary.   “I will not fail you, Father.”

“See that you don’t,” he says.  “Prepare the blessing then be on your way.”

Her hand tightens.  “I don’t believe that’s necessary-.”

“Prepare it,” Father interrupts.  “It will do well to show the masses that my rule is blessed by the spirits.”

Azula nods, “As you wish, Father.”

He waves his hand in dismissal and Azula leaves without a word.  She walks down the hallway and only when she is truly alone does she allow a scowl to grace her features.  She rolls her neck and follows the path to the hidden annex of the palace.  The guards bow as she passes, but she pays them no mind.  There are more guards here than any part of the palace combined.  A group of Fire Sages walks by her in silence and she grinds her teeth.  Something new drops in and they forget their respect.  

Her ears twitch as soft clicking noises grow throughout the hallway, but she doesn’t bother to search for the source.  She stops outside the ornate door and indicates for the guards to open them.  Azula walks into the lavish room and frowns at the disarray.  Silk sheets and pillows spill from the bed without care, food of the finest delicacy lays unfinished, and oil stains the bright wood of the table.  It’s as if none of these luxuries hold any meaning.  Well, what else would she expect?  Azula walks deeper into the room and pushes past heavy curtains to enter the sunroom.  The spirit can always be found lounging under the sun and ‘charging’ its energy.  It lays stretched in all its dark colors.  Purple and green mixed harshly against the royal reds and golds.  Almost as if it doesn't belong here.

The spirit doesn’t turn on her entrance and she rolls her fingers.  This disrespectful creature.  “Great Spirit.” 

“Azula.  What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

She scoffs.  “Don’t pretend that you don’t already know why I’m here.”  Its otherworldly spies have already infected every aspect of the palace.  She hears their soft clicks everywhere. 

The spirit throws a smirk over its shoulder and sits up with a yawn.  It has been here less than a week and already acts as if it owns the place.  The spirit appeared in a blaze of energy during her first ever council meeting.  The disruption made her seize in panic.  She looked at Father, but his face betrayed nothing.  No one moved when the creature stepped out of the light to stand directly before the First Princess.  Even she had nothing to say.  A spirit, for that is all the creature could be with its scaled skin and inhuman appearance, had not made itself known to the royal family in over a generation.  

A foolish General had waved a fan of fire towards the spirit, towards the Princess.  Whether he thought he was protecting her was irrelevant.  A servant never throws a flame at the Royal Family.  The spirit's back had unfolded in odd wings of metal before she could move.  It twirled in the air, staff glowing an eerie purple before pure energy engulfed the fire and the General.  The fire died immediately in a puff of smoke.  The General threw everything it had at the purple encasing, but nothing he did could destroy the cage.  The room had fallen into a hush at the casual display of spiritual power.  The spirit floated in the air before landing, again, before Azula.  She had glanced at her father, at the fury in his gaze when another General fell to his knees.  “A blessing!” the man had cried.  “The spirits have blessed your rule and your line.  All Hail Firelord Ozai!”

The chant filled the room until everyone had fallen to the ground, but Father's attention stayed on the spirit.  The spirit studied the room without saying a word.  It just twisted its wrist, and the cage fell away around the gasping general.  In fact, the spirit hadn’t said anything until the Fire Sages arrived.  It wasn’t until the spirit was proclaimed to be some sort of turtle did her Father’s fury start to abate.  Turtle spirits are renowned for their wisdom and power.  This had to be a blessing.  What other reason would a turtle spirit reveal itself in the throne room?

Father stepped from his throne and towered over it, but the spirit did not waiver.  “I am Firelord Ozai.  Tell me, what is your purpose here, spirit?”

The Fire Sages twitched at the blatant disrespect, the spirit just raised an eyebrow.  “I do not know Ozai.”

Father frowned.  “Fire Lord Ozai.”

“I don’t do titles.”

The room went cold at the audacity.  Father puffed a breath of flaming air and the spirits staff flicked in color.  Azula could barely control her expression.  No one spoke to Father in such a manner, but this wasn’t exactly a person.  A brave Fire Sage stepped up and bowed.  “What should we call you Great Spirit?”

“Donatello.”

Azula brushes away the memory.  No point in dwelling on it.  “Prepare yourself, we leave in two days.”

The spirit keeps its eyes on her.  “I’m surprised I’m being let out of my gilded cage.”

“Father believes it’s important for the common folk to know his rule is blessed by the spirits.”

“I didn’t appear in front of Ozai,” the spirit hums.  “I appeared in front of you.”

Her eye twitches.  “And I am his heir.”

“I didn’t realize it was official yet,” the spirits smirks. “There are so many whispers.  Honestly, it can get a bit confusing.”

Azula digs her nails into her palms.  She won’t let it get to her.  There’s a flutter just on the edge of her peripheral and she catches sight of one of its spies.  Small as a spiderroach, the spirit metal keeps a shimmering eye on her.  The Fire Sages are fools if they truly believe this spirit to be benevolent and just.  Maybe that’s why it picked her in the first place.

She turns from the sunroom.  “Two days.”

“I can’t wait to meet your brother!” the spirit shouts.

Azula lets her face drop into a snarl.  How dare it taunt her!  She is heir to the most powerful nation in the world.  She is the most powerful firebender outside of her father!  She slams the door closed and the constant thunk and tap of metal dissipate.  She’ll wipe that arrogant smile off the spirit's face soon enough.  It sickens her how everyone is enamored with this spirit.  With its possible meaning.  The Fire Sages say it’s a blessing, but she can see it for what it truly is.

A complication.

Chapter Text

Azula

Power coils up her legs and balloons in her chest.  She shifts, lifting a foot into Praying Crane with a snap and a release of energy from her fingertips.  Fire burns hot and powerful across the deck.  She pulls in a breath and drops into Crouching Dragon, rolling the flame down her frame to roar out her foot.  Exhaling, Azula pulls her hands and feet under her in a sharp motion.  She pushes off the ground and twists, straightening one leg into Jumping Scorpion.  Fire cuts through the air and curves with the tail of her arch.  She lands and settles back into her base stance.  Inhaling, she starts the sequence again.

Only when the sun moves to noon does she complete the last set.  She lands fluidly on her feet and twists a bang from her face.  She holds out a hand and cold water is placed against her palm by a bowing servant.  Azula takes a sip and calms her breathing before turning to her Masters.  The twins sit high and watch her with unmoving expressions. 

“Perfect as always, Princess Azula,” They say.

Their eyes shift in unison and Azula follows their gaze to the lounging spirit.  Donatello lies on a small throne surrounded by literature and its own metal helpers.  The spirit demanded most of their library before permitting departure, everything from children's fables to documented military maneuvers.  The Sages fall over themselves to fulfill any and all of its tasks, whispering prayers and performing offerings at the spirit's feet.  Donatello takes it all as if it were the spirit’s right to demand it.  It irks her to no end.

Donatello lazes on the deck most days and pays her little to no attention.  It bothers her Masters and the accompanying Sages that a spirit of such caliber is not phased or interested in her mastery of the element.  Even now, the spirit's focus remains captured by the ancient history spread before it.  Donatello has not looked up once during any of her morning practices.  The disregard stings.

A Fire Sage creeps down the stairs toward the spirit and Azula turns away.  She can’t take any more groveling at Donatello’s feet.  Weaklings, all of them.  So ruled by superstition and tradition that they can’t recognize the beast before them.  A servant holds out a towel and Azula takes it with a dismissive wave.  They’ve been sailing for weeks now, yet they haven’t received any word on her foolish brother's whereabouts.  It’s not a total surprise.  Reports of Fire Nation survivors being pulled from the Northern oceans come through the radios almost every hour.  She didn’t believe it in the beginning.  An entire fleet lost to Water savages and a spirit no less, but they’re pulling more dead soldiers than alive ones the closer they get to Northern territory.  It’s entirely possible that her brother and Uncle are dead, but she banishes the thought before it can take root.

She’d never be so lucky.

A door opens and Azula glances over her shoulder; she turns immediately in disgust.  She can hear the captain making his way down the steps and Azula keeps her attention on the ocean.  How this pitiful excuse of a man became captain of anything is beyond her.  He’s still useful, about as useful as this ship, but it will do for now.  The man comes to her side with a bow.  “A message, Princess.”

Azula holds out a manicured hand.  She unrolls the paper and scans the neatly printed characters.  Hmm, so they survived after all.  Iroh and Zuko have boarded a ship not far from here.  That’s fortuitous.  They can intercept the ship and have the prisoners ready for transport within four days.  This might be easier than she first thought.  Once she’s done with her hopeless brother, then she can focus on more important things.  Like capturing the Avatar.  The rest of the message reads like a typical, pointless report on her brother's activities until the very end.  She reads it again and feels a fire grow in her stomach to lick at the back of her teeth.  “Has anyone else seen this?”

“N-no, Princess,” the Captain stutters.  “I took the message personally.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” she says.  She’s trying to stay calm, but there’s smoke on her breath.  A spirit boarded with her brother.  A turtle spirit.  The message claims that the spirit pulled Iroh and Zuko across miles of ocean with the speed and fire of a dragon.  Its weapon burning a hole straight through the hull.  A powerful spirit, probably as strong as Donatello.  Perhaps stronger.  It at least wields fire, something that is a suitable match for Fire Nation Royalty.  

She commits this new spirit's name to memory and lets fire crawl from her fingers until the message falls to the ground as ash.  It can’t get out that Zuko’s been blessed by a turtle spirit, especially one that matches their orientation better than the one she’s been blessed with.  It’s not fair.  Zuko isn’t worthy of such grace.  

She gathers her emotions and turns around only to stop again.  Piercing eyes watch her over the edge of a scroll and Azula straightens at the attention.  Caught in the black gaze of the spirit, Azula feels a shiver roll down her spine.  She is struck once again by the otherworldliness of this creature.  She might scoff at superstition, but even she feels the inhuman pressure of those black pupils.   Donatello hasn’t looked twice in her direction, so why now?  Donatello knows about this other spirit, a voice whispers, and your brother.  That’s who the spirit is really here for.  After all, you were sitting in his seat.  Azula folds shaking hands behind her back and keeps her face a porcelain mask.  

They’ll capture her brother and Uncle without Donatello’s interference.  She’ll think of something to get her traitorous family on board without a fight and the spirit should follow.  Only then will she inform Donatello of the other spirit's presence.  Donatello likes to play that it's here for Azula instead of her father, and that will be the spirits' chance to prove it.  It will persuade this new spirit to choose her as a sponsor and leave her foolish brother behind.  She doesn’t entertain the other option.  Zuko won’t steal this gift-no matter how infuriating Donatello is-from her.  She won’t allow it.

“Azula,” her Master's command.  “It is time to continue.  Proceed to lightning.”

The spirit lowers the scroll and Azula smirks.  There is no way the spirit could ignore a demonstration of mastery at this level.  Lightning bending is the rarest ability in all Fire Nation history.  Azula flicks the remaining ash off her hands and moves back to the center of the deck.  She stands straight, closes her eyes, and pulls her ribcage up with the motion of her hands.  Azula separates the energy within and slips into the controlled moves of a Master.  Lightning sparks at her fingertips and flows with every step she takes.  She exhales, lets the energies crash against each other, and snaps the accumulated power out of her left hand.  Thunder roars as lightning dances across the ocean.  

“Perfect.”

“How did you do that?”

Azula smirks and turns to face the spirit.  It’s sitting up now with a Fire Sage at the spirit’s shoulder.  “It’s simple really,” she answers, “Lightning bending is one of the oldest and most powerful forms of Firebending, and the most difficult to learn.  It requires complete discipline of the self, and the ability to separate the energy within yourself.  Only then can you guide the power that’s released when the energies come back together.”

“Yeah,” Donatello says, “Not really the explanation I was hoping for.  What ‘energies’ are we talking about?”

Azula looks at her Masters before continuing.  “Yin and Yang.  Positive and-.”

“And negative, yes I know.” Donatello interrupts.  “It’s interesting how a majority of your culture shares roots with Eastern Asia.  Even your writing system is similar to Hanzi.  The grammar structure is closer to Japanese though.” 

Azula grits her teeth.  “I don’t understand.”

Donatello lifts a hand.  “Nevermind.  I don’t know why I asked.  I shouldn’t expect scientific answers from you guys.  It’s a surprise you have any concept of electrons and protons at all.”

Her lips tremble.  She might not know everything the spirit is referencing, but the implication is clear.  No one has ever questioned her intellect so openly.  

“Well, that was mildly interesting for almost three minutes,” Donatello sighs.  The spirit reaches for the scroll, the dismissal clear, and Azula sees red.  She pivots, fire traveling down her arm and she releases it at the parchment in the spirit's grip.  The Fire Sage shouts, but Donatello simply lifts a hand, purple lightning dancing across its digits before a purple wall materializes between them.  The fire flares hot against the barrier, spreading up and around the edges.  Azula releases the energy but the wall stands strong between them.

Donatello raises an eyebrow, “Someone’s got a temper today.”

Azula opens her mouth, but the Sage is already falling to the floor before Donatello.  The man prostrates himself, head touching the deck and palms outstretched.  A small, white flame appears in the Sage's hands and spins in a slow dance of apology across his palms, burning the skin with each slow circle.  Azula nearly steps back in shock.  A RaoShu offering?  On her behalf?

“O’ Great Spirit!” the man begs, “Please have mercy on the Princess.  She is but a child, and has yet to be taught the proper ceremonies when dealing with spirits!”

Azula glares down at the Sage in disgust.  To be burned by your own flame is not only shameful but impertinent at best.  Who is he to determine who is wrong in this situation?

Donatello stares at the man and rests its chin against green knuckles.  The deck is quiet.  Not a single servant moves as the flame continues to burn the man's skin.  “No need for the dramatics, you can put the fire out,” the spirit says, “and go see a doctor before those wounds get infected.”

The Sage releases the flame with a breath.  “Thank you for your benevolence, Great Spirit.”  The sage stands with a bow and shuffles from the deck.  

“I keep forgetting everything is pain and suffering with you guys,” Donatello sighs.  “Very Game of Thrones.”  The spirit bends but stops.  “I’m going to read another scroll now, so throw your flames the other way.”

She scowls.  “I am not some child to be chastised.”

“You’re fourteen,” Donatello says.  “You are literally the definition of a child.”  

“Not by Fire Nation standards.”

Donatello hums, “Somehow I doubt that.”  The spirit unrolls a new scroll, “you can go back to throwing around fire, lightning or whatever.  If you want my opinion, it seems like a waste of time.”

Azula huffs a cloud of smoke into the air.  A waste.  This spirit deems her training a waste.   “A waste?” 

Donatello's eyes move across the scroll.  “That’s what I said.  You’ve already got the moves down perfectly.  Seems like it’s time to move on.”

The fire goes cold on her tongue and another one sparks in realization.  “You were watching.”

“Of course, I was watching,” Donatello says.  “I stopped after the first set though.  You’ve clearly mastered it.”

Azula turns away from the spirit and smiles at her Masters.  “You heard Donatello.  Prepare something that’s actually challenging for my next season.”

The twins stand together and bow.  “Yes, Princess.”

Azula heads for the interior but stops.  She stands there for a moment before speaking. “Someone bring me a chair and a drink.   Immediately.”  The servants scurry across the deck before one stands in front of her, head down, with a chair in her grasp.  Azula cuts her eyes, and the servant hurries to set the chair close to the spirit.  Azula sinks into the cushions and holds out a hand, a second later a cold juice is set against her palm.  Azula looks at the ocean and takes a sip before turning to the spirit.  “What are you reading?”

“A Fire Nation history on the unionization of the 12 Great Island fire tribes.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Oh, it is.”

Azula takes another sip.  “Then why are you reading it?”

“I know nothing about this world,” Donatello responds.  “I’ve also been dropped in the center of the most powerful nation on this planet, with a writing system I’m only vaguely familiar with.  Knowledge is everything.”

She raises an eyebrow.  “And how is knowing history older than this Nation important?”

“It’s less about the content and more about the characters,” The spirit unfurls more of the scroll.  “I am a genius, but it still takes time to learn a new language.”  Donatello looks at her over the paper, “Side note.  I didn’t know I had to specify to also include entertainment pieces.  I’m sure you have authors writing about things other than history and the war.”

“There’s bound to be a play amongst the library you demanded they pack.”

“Nothing,” he sighs.  “Your children's stories are creative, but I’m tired of reading the Flame That Cried.”

“I used to hate that story,” Azula says.  “Mother would read it to Zuzu almost every night.”

“But never to you.”

She tightens her hand around the glass.  “No.”

A memory floats by like the smoke of a dying flame.  Of her leaning against the wall and hearing the muffled voices floating from Zuko’s room.  She’d snuck out one night and sat at the edge of Zuko’s door.  That was the first time she heard the fable about a young fire bender and his flame that inexplicably put itself out, leaving only wetness in its wake.  Like most children's tales it ends on a positive note, but Azula saw it for what it truly was.  A story about weakness and the children who accepted that fate instead of changing it.  She can still hear the smothered voice of her mother changing her pitch to mimic the characters.  A performance she could only experience in whispers.

“Parents can be like that,” Donatello comments.  “My father calls me purple.”

She snorts, then sits up.  “You have a father?”  

“Yep,” the spirit says.

It provides nothing else and Azula saves the information for later.  They know so little about this spirit, besides conjecture based on its behavior.  The Sages are sure Donatello is some sort of knowledge and potential spirit, coming to bless them with continued innovation and prosperity.  A family however suggests a power structure.  She just needs to find out where Donatello falls on that ladder.  Azula brings the glass to her lips and turns back to the ocean.  She’ll have a better feel for it once the spirit Michelangelo is on the board.

Sokka

Sokka rolls over with a groan.  He can’t sleep.  He’s on a boat for the first time in months and he can’t sleep.  The familiar dips of the ocean should have lured him into a deep slumber by now.  The others should be struggling to wake him in the mornings, but that’s not the case.  He stares up at wood carved by water tribe hands and rubs the familiar walrus seal hide keeping him warm.  Sokka should feel at home on this boat, but he’s not.  He flips the covers off and sits up with a groan.  He looks around the room and takes in the small form of his sister and the sprawling form of Aang with a smile.  At least they’re comfortable.  He forces himself to look at the last bed and straightens when he finds it empty.  He looks around, but the spirit is nowhere to be found.

“Great,” he whispers.  He pushes to his feet with a stretch and slips on his shoes.  “This is exactly what I want to do at midnight.  Look for a creepy spirit in the middle of the ocean.”

“No one’s making you,” a voice mumbles.  “Just go back to sleep.”

He winces, “Sorry Katara.”

The girl just grumbles and rolls over to face the wall.  Sokka tiptoes out of the room and closes the door softly behind him.  Katara’s right, no one is making him do this, but he feels like he has to.  How is he the only one suspicious of this thing?  A spirit drops in the middle of council and everyone loses whatever reason they had left.  Auspicious this, blessings that, when the appropriate response should have been ‘send the thing home!’  Sokka takes the steps slowly and slips onto the deck.  The wind blows a familiar cold and salts his lips.  Sokka lets some of the tension in his shoulders drop, at least this will always be calming.

He finds the spirit sitting before Appa.  The turtle's legs are crossed with its hands folded carefully in his lap.  Sokka is struck by deja vu at the pose.  Maybe Aang is on to something with the whole ‘air spirit’ nonsense.  He takes a step and one of the spirits' eyes slips open lazily.  Sokka freezes at the attention.  It’s still weird to look at this thing.  The spirit looks human in outline only and that’s the trick.  Leonardo uses that similarity until you’re reminded by the three strong digits on its hands or the unnerving black of its pupils.  Sokka’s never seen anything sentient with eyes like that.

“What’s up?”

Sokka glances at the sky, “...Nothing,” he says.  “What are you doing up so late?”

Leonardo falls easily out of the pose and leans back on his hands.  “Couldn’t sleep, so I decided to meditate.  It’s supposed to be calming.  It’s not, but what can you do?”

Sokka smiles.  “I knew it was boring.  Aang claims he can sit in that position for hours.”

“I mean, he is a monk,” Leonardo says.  “I wouldn’t doubt it.  Why are you up so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep either,” Sokka sighs.  “Which is weird.  I should have no problem sleeping on a boat, but I’m considering sleeping on Appa.  Appa!”  Sokka pats the bison, “no offense buddy.  It's just that he flies.”

“What’s the science behind that exactly?” Leonardo says.  “I can never get a straight answer.  I don’t think ‘he’s a flying bison’ is the answer Aang thinks it is.”

“Exactly!” Sokka says, he drops down next to the spirit.  “That’s what I’ve been saying.  He doesn’t have any wings!  It makes no sense.”

The spirit laughs, “Totally.  Donnie would have a field day studying this thing.”

Sokka twitches at the name, “one of your brothers right?”

“Yeah,” the spirit smiles.  “He’s all about science and technology.  I bet he’s screaming at the air right now about this bending stuff.”

“Says the guy who can make portals.”

Leonardo grins.  “He doesn’t like that either.  He just accepts it but still grouches that science is better.”

“He sounds like a reasonable spirit,” Sokka says.

“You remind me of him,” Leonardo admits.  

Sokka turns to the spirit in shock.  “I remind you of a spirit?”

“We’re not spirits.”

Sokka rolls his eyes, “Right.  You’re just four turtle humans, with magic and from a different world.  Totally not spirits.”

“Anyway,” Leonardo says.  “It’s mainly your intellect.  Donnie’s crazy smart in a mad genius sort of way.”  The spirit drops its head and stares at the sky.  “I guess that’s why I can’t sleep.  There are four of us in one room, but three of them aren’t my brothers.  I’ve always known where to find them, or at least how.  It’s putting me a bit on edge.”

Sokka can relate to that.  He doesn’t like to admit it, but he’s never been this scared for Katara’s safety.  The danger was always distant back home.  The Fire Nation didn’t have a reason to come back, because they kept Katara so hidden, but now?  Now they throw themselves at Fire Nation soldiers almost every day.  Soldiers who would kill his sister first before anyone else in their little group.  A waterbender outside of the Northern wall is typically a dead one.

Sokka shakes the thought away.  “Maybe I should sleep on Appa,” he says.  “Is it weird that I’d be more comfortable on him than on this stupid boat?”

There’s no answer and Sokka wishes he didn’t say anything.  They’re getting a free ride to the mainland.  He shouldn’t complain about this. 

“I guess we both miss home.” 

“What?” Sokka says.  “This is a water tribe boat.  I should be right at home!”

“But it’s not your water tribe boat,” Leonardo says.  “So you’re not.  At home, I mean.”

Huh.  Sokka looks down and drags a hand across the rough wood.  His eyes follow the familiar curves until the bow angles into something sharp and foreign.  It points instead of curves like the bows built in the South.  The spirit might be onto something.  

“Just sleep on the bison,” the spirit says.  “I’ll stay out here with you.  I typically sleep during the day anyway.”

Sokka blinks.  “Thanks ugh, Leonardo.”

“Leo.”

“Leo,” Sokka says.  He gets up and runs back to the room.  He slips in, quietly grabs the cover, and slips back out.  He takes the steps two at a time and in the next moment he’s pulling himself into Appa's saddle.  Sokka wraps himself in the blanket and immediately feels his eyes drift close to the steady breathing of the animal.  It doesn’t take long for him to fall into an easy sleep.  He dreams of the ocean, the moon, and pure white snow spun into hair.  

It’s beautiful.  

The sun starts to pull him awake.  He squints against it and rolls over with a yawn.  The sounds of boots against wood try to tug him into awakeness, but he fights it.  He just needs a few more minutes.  A heavy weight lands on his stomach, forcing all the air and sleep from his body.

“Sokka!” Aang beams.  “I knew you loved Appa.”

Sokka groans and shoves the boy off him.  How Aang can be so cheery in the mornings is beyond him.  He sits up with a stretch and looks over the saddle.  The waterbenders are moving efficiently through their morning tasks, and he’s glad for small miracles that he wasn’t given any chores.

“Why’d you sleep out here?” Katara asks.

“No reason,” he yawns.  He glances at the spirit.  Leo’s still folded in a meditative state and Sokka wonders if he sat like that all night.

“I told you he’s an air spirit,” Aang whispers.  “He’s sitting just like the monks do!”

“I don't think the air monks have a monopoly on meditating, Aang.”

Aang huffs but looks to the opposite side of the boat.  Sokka leans over the kid and grins.  “Morning Paku!”

The Master Waterbenders mustache twitches and Sokka feels his grin grow.  He’s growing on the man, he can tell.

“Good Morning,” Paku says, the man turns to Leo with a bow.  “Great Spirit.”

Leo just hums but doesn’t open his eyes, just continues to breathe with an upright posture.  Paku faces them and goes over the plan for the millionth time.  Sokka already has the path to General Fong's base memorized, but he gets the feeling the man likes to hear himself talk.  Paku then proceeds to offer everyone but him a gift, which-ouch, he’s not really making a good case to become their new grandfather.  Paku finishes but turns to Leo one more time.

“Forgive my impertinence,” the man says.  “But some of my men would like to make an offering before you depart, if you allow it, Great Spirit.”

Leo opens his eyes with a sigh and twists to his feet.  “Sure, yes.  I will accept your offering.”

Two water benders step forward and begin to pull water from the surrounding ocean.  The water moves in slow separate circles through the air, before the men lower themselves to their knees.  The water curves sharply, condensing into ice, before skimming the length of the men's bodies.  The ice joins together into a continuous flow of movement along the arms and back of the two men to meet in the air, before crossing to complete the pattern.  Sokka squints, the ice flows almost in the shape of a sideways eight.

“A BaoHu offering,” Aang breathes.  “I’ve never seen one done with water before.”

“Cool, Cool,” Leo says, “but what exactly do I do with it?”

“Just follow your instincts,” Aang says.  “They’re asking for protection.”

Leo hums, his eyes jumping from the men, the boat, and the ocean before pulling out a sword.  The weapon glows blue and the spirit makes a series of strikes.  Small portals appear in the spaces between the ice and swallow the offering whole.  Identical portals open above the ship and spit out the offering in the same figure-eight pattern, before dropping the ice back into the ocean.  The entire ship falls to its knees at the show of power.  “Thank you, Great Spirit!”

Leo rubs the back of his neck.  “Sure, no problem,” the spirit turns to them with a whisper.  “Let’s get out of here.”

Sokka snorts and follows the others onto Appa’s back.  They should reach General Fong in two days.  Sokka’s gotta say it’s relaxing to have actual adults in the mix.  They’ll be dealing with crazy Bumi soon, which won’t be great, but at least they don’t have to be responsible for getting there.

“I’m going to catch some z’s,” Leo says.  “Wake me up when there’s food.”

Sokka nods, “Sure thing Leo.”

The spirit shifts to the back of the saddle and turns his shell their way.  They fly in peaceful silence before Katara has to ruin it.  “Leo?” she questions.  “What happened to spirit or ‘turtle thing?’”

Sokka glances at the sleeping spirit.  “Katara,” he sighs.  “When you bond with as many spiritual beings as I have, there’s a certain trust that just forms,” He shrugs, “I don’t know how to explain it.  You wouldn’t understand.”

“Please,” she scoffs.  “Just last month you were calling it spirit mumbo jumbo!”

“Which it is,” he says.  “But I can’t help it if the spirit world is so fond of me.”

Katara just groans and faces the front.  It’s always so easy to rile her up.  The rest of the flight is uneventful.  Sokka looks at the browns and greens blurring beneath them and wonders if he’ll ever get used to it.  Most of his life has been shades of blues, whites, and grays.  It’s…odd to think that it's rare for the rest of the world. 

The sun begins to set and Appa starts to lower with a soft bellow.  Sokka glances at the spirit in surprise.  Leo really did sleep through most of the day.  Appa lands with a shake and the spirit sits up with a yawn.  “Are we at General Gong’s yet?”

Sokka buries a snicker in his hands and Katara glares.  “General Fong .”

“Tomato, potato,” the spirit says. Leo jumps off of Appa, getting some pretty decent height.  The turtle pulls a few impressive flips and twists before landing softly on his feet.  Aang floats off Appa with a whoop and thunderous applause for the spirit.  Leo smirks and bows at the waist, swinging his arm out in an exaggerated sweep.  

Aang turns to Sokka with a grin and Sokka rolls his eyes.  “That proves nothing.”

“C’mon Sokka,” Aang whines.  “He’s gotta be an air spirit!”

“I need more evidence,” he says.  “Now, let's set up camp.  We have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Afternoon,” Katara corrects.  “I saw a river just past the trees.  Aang and I can get in some final waterbending practice before he buries himself in earthbending.”

“Fine,” Sokka gives.  “Morning practice, then off to General Fong.  Aang!   Come help me set up the tent.”

They move around each other like a well-oiled machine and the tents are set up in no time.  He looks up to find Katara and the spirit gone, and he can’t help but tense.  He forces his attention back to starting the fire.  The spirit isn’t going to hurt his sister, and Leo won’t let anything happen to her.  A few minutes pass before Katara and Leo break through the tree line and Sokka tries not to sag.  Katara holds an orb of fish and Leo drops an armful of fruit next to the camp.  Sokka looks at it with a raised brow.  There’s no way this spirit is a vegetarian.  Leo picks up a fruit, wipes it clean, and takes a bite.  Sokka doesn’t even bother to look at Aang.  He can already feel the smugness radiating off the small Avatar.  The dinner turns out nice.  Aang and Katara talk non-stop about their most recent adventures and Leo adds a few of his own, that’s if you believe the spirit.  What even is basketball? 

Sokka lets the stories fade to a pleasant hum and pulls out his club.  He checks it for nicks before standing up.  He walks a little away from camp and swings it a few times, and smiles when the weight still feels good and sturdy in his hands.  They wind down quickly after that and in the next moment, the sun is tugging him awake.  He looks around camp and Katara and Aang are already gone.  He sits up with a crack and a groan and crawls over for some breakfast.  There’s a plate already waiting for him and Sokka thanks the spirits for little sisters.  He bites into the tender flesh of the fish and tries not to moan.  Sweet, sweet meat.  Sokka leans over, mouth full, and pulls out Boomerang and a sharpening stone.  He hasn’t had to use it recently, but there’s no time like the present to make sure it’s always ready.

Sokka loses himself in the familiar motion until the spirit drops down next to him.  “So,” Leo says, “wanna spar?”

Boomerang slips from his fingers.  “What?”

Leo smirks.  “I saw you swinging that club around last night, and you’ve got some skill.  Personally, I think you might do well with a sword.”  The spirit leans forward suddenly, face breaking into a wild grin, and Sokka falls back.  “That’s what we should totally do!  Come on.”

The spirit grabs his hand and Sokka freezes at the touch.  It's cool, unnaturally so, and there’s so much strength under those fingers.  Leo drags him into the clearing and stops a few feet away from where Aang and Katara are trading water.  Leo drops his hand, gives him a once over, and walks to the trees lining the edge.  The spirit assesses each one with a hand under his chin and stops before the thickest tree. The spirit steps back, a hand covering his eyes before running forward.  Leo jumps, grabs the lowest branch, swings, and disappears into the leaves.  The spirit’s agile that’s for sure.

“Sokka?” Katara calls.  “What’s going on?”

“Ugh, I’m not sure.”

There’s rustling, and snaps, then Leo drops suddenly to his feet without a sound.  That’s the creepiest part about this thing.  Sokka can’t recall hearing a single footstep since they met Leo.

“Catch.” 

Something long spins through the air and he just manages not to drop it.  Sokka fumbles a bit and looks blankly at the stick.  It’s surprisingly straight. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Leo’s own swords drop to the ground and the spirit spins a similar stick in his right hand.  “Hold it like you would a sword.  We’ll start there.”

Sokka stares.  He rolls the stick in his hands nervously before shuffling his feet.  He ends up holding it how he does his club, with his feet square and firmly planted with a slight angle on his shoulders.  His fingers flex against the wood before he wraps both hands around it.  That’s how people hold swords right?  He looks up to find the spirit walking his way.  Leo’s eyes move around his form and Sokka tenses from the scrutiny.  Firm fingers nudge his elbows, push his shoulders and move his hands down.  A foot taps the inside of his shoe, forcing him to widen his stance and move a foot back.  By the end of all the prodding, he feels stable but weird.  Like he’s too far forward.

Leo steps back with a nod.  “That’s better.  Now copy my steps.”  Leo slips easily into the stance it just molded Sokka into.  Leo lifts the stick in a slow arc and brings it down just as slowly.

Sokka raises an eyebrow.  “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Leo says.  “Do that ten times, and be mindful of your feet.”

Sokka huffs but compiles.  He pulls through the move with a wobble, but he thinks it comes out ok.  Leo’s back at his side, pushing him down and tapping his feet.   He finds himself naturally complying and this new form, less bent and with a wider base, feels better. “Do it again.”

Sokka does and the stick-blade comes down a lot smoother.  He blinks.

“That’s better,” Leo grins.  “Unbalanced a little, but it’ll get there.  Ten more let's go!”

“But that was two?”  Leo raises….well not an eyebrow, but his brow ridges definitely wiggle.  “You said ten, I just did two,” he says slowly, “ergo I have eight left.”

“Oh,” Leo chuckles, “right, right.  I meant twelve.  You just gave me two, which means….”

Sokka drops his head.  “I owe you ten.”

It turns out to be a grueling morning.  Leo has him do the swing TWENTY times and won’t let him move faster than a turtle slug.  He’s panting by the end of it.  He looks at the spirit, but Leo is already pulling him into a different position.  He doesn't even get to swing the stupid sword-stick.  He just shuffles forward and backward in a series of small steps while never taking his eye off the spirit.  It’s actually harder than he thought it would be.  Anytime he so much as looks down or glances back, Leo is there with a gentle yet firm wack against the forehead.  They do this for what seems like hours.  Alternating between shuffling around the clearing to painfully slow swings.  By the time the sun moves to mid morning, Sokka’s sore and exhausted.  Even his forehead hurts.

“Alright,” Leo says.  “I think that’s enough.”

Sokka collapses to the ground in relief.  Who knew swinging a stick would be so hard?  “That,” he pants, “was horrible.”

The spirit laughs.  “That was just the beginning amigo.  I gotta say though, you’ve got talent.”

“Really?”

“Really,” the spirit says.  “You’ve got good balance, you're quick to pick up on technique, and you don’t quit.  All great qualities of a Master Swordsman.”

Master.  An actual Master.  Sokka feels his face pull into a bright grin.  Despite the pain, the training was fun.  He never gets to do stuff like this.  He’s too busy watching Katara and Aang play in the water all day.  The spirit walks over and holds out a hand.  Sokka doesn’t hesitate to take it.  Leo pulls him to his feet like he weighs nothing, and that’s probably true.  He studies the hand and marvels at how alien and familiar it feels.  You would think three digits would feel weird, but strangely, it doesn’t.  He goes to let go but something catches his eye.  He turns the spirit's hand over and squints at Leo’s wrist.  “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Sokka pulls at the edge of the black bandages to reveal a small looping symbol.  It couldn’t be bigger than his thumbnail.  It fades into the green skin like a scar, but the very tip of the symbol is a faint blue.  “That?”

Leo pulls out of Sokka’s grip and brings his wrist close.  “I don’t know,” the spirit squints, “ but I feel like I’ve seen it before.”

Sokka shrugs.  Probably more spirit mumbo jumbo then.  He checks the position of the sun, accounts for their distance from the poles, and turns to the river.  “Alright, guys!  Time to pack it up.  If we leave now we can be at the base just after lunch!”

General Fong should have more to eat than just fish, and access to real beds.  Then it’ll be no more bouncing around without a plan and fear of Fire Nation capture.  The General will take care of everything and make sure they get to Bumi.  Everything will be ok.

He’s never been so wrong in his life. 

Zuko

Zuko breathes in deeply and feels the heat of the sun against his forehead.  He keeps the flame cupped in his hands still like a statue.  Zuko releases his breath with a gentle flow of fire passing over his lips and manages to keep the flame in his palms still.  A bead of sweat drips onto the floor below.  This new exercise is a lot more demanding than he originally anticipated.  The concentration needed to keep one flame still while also letting another flow is different than anything he’s ever been taught.  Like using muscles you didn’t know you had.  The flame flickers in his palm and he gathers his concentration.  He can do this, just thirty more minutes to go.

“Zuko.”

He pulls in a breath.

“Zuko?”

The flame shifts in his palm.  Keep it together.

“ZUKO!!”

The tiny flame roars into an inferno.  “WHAT!”

Michelangelo jumps back.  “Geez, dude.  Take a breath.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Zuko hisses.  He was sure once they got on the ship that the spirit would leave him alone, but that hadn’t been the case.  The turtle follows him everywhere.  Even when he’s trying to plan a course to go after the Avatar.  It’s driving him crazy.

“I just wanted to know if you wanted to play a game!”

Smoke pours out of his nose.  “A game?”

“Yeah!” the spirit smiles.  “My brothers and I always have fun playing ninja tag.”

Zuko slams a fist against the floor and turns to Uncle.  “He’s trying to sabotage my training!”

“I am not!” Michelangelo squawks.

Uncle just laughs.  “Now, Prince Zuko.  A break isn’t necessarily a bad thing.” 

Of course, Uncle would side with the spirit over him.  This must be a dream come true for the man.  He’s always talking about spirit nonsense and speaking in riddles that no one understands.

Michelangelo drapes himself across Zuko’s shoulders and he freezes.  He’s still not used to how physical this spirit is.  No one voluntarily touches spirits unless you’re courting death or returning a favor.  They hardly touch humans either, at least not in the spirit tales he’s been told.

“We could always spar?” Michelangelo hums.  “At least then I’d be doing something.”

Zuko whips his head back to Uncle and even his face is open with shock.  Fight a spirit?  

“Please Zuko?  No one else will talk to me!  All they do is leave fruit and burn flowers outside my door!”  Michelangelo slides from his shoulders with a groan.  “We’re in the middle of the ocean!  Where are they even finding these flowers?”

The crew is leaving offerings? Old ones at that.  He assumed most of the Fire Nation dismissed spirit practices unless you were a Sage or Uncle.  To hear that some of the crew are asking for safe passage is a surprise.  

“You want to spar?” Zuko asks.  “With me?”

“Yep,” the spirit smiles.  “But no fire, just good old fashioned hand to hand.”

Zuko looks to Uncle, but the man is urging him to get up.  Zuko looks back at the wide eyes of the spirit and narrows his eyes.  “Fine,” he says, “but no spiritual powers.”

“Mystic,” Michelangelo corrects.  “And I’m not a spirit.”

The turtle rolls away and gets to his feet with a flip.  The spirit sinks into an unfamiliar stance and his grin turns competitive, “let's rumble!”

Zuko falls into his own stance, leaving his hands folded into fists.  He’s not going to firebrand, but this is still the most comfortable position for him.  A few of the crew stop doing their tasks, and Zuko can hear the whisper of the audience grow.

Michelangelo twists his foot and charges.  The spirit is fast.  Zuko barely has enough time to deflect the first blow.  Michelangelo pivots, leg flying.  Zuko bends his knees, falling just under the kick.  Zuko pulls his left foot back, re-establishing his balance, and charges forward with a shout.  The spirit weaves in between his blows.  Almost like he sees it before Zuko throws the blow.  The turtle drops under his fist, spins into Zuko's guard, and taps him on the forehead.  Zuko stumbles back and Michelangelo flips away with a laugh.  Zuko growls and charges forward. 

Zuko’s never fought like this before, so hindered.  It's like he's missing a limb.  He finds himself restraining flames in curled fingers and flexed feet.  He even has to stop himself from reaching for dao blades that aren’t there.  He’s not sure if it would make a difference.  Michelangelo moves like nothing he’s ever seen.  Twisting, and fluttering close to land a tap or punch on Zuko’s person.  The spirit's feet barely make contact before he’s moving again in a style Zuko can’t comprehend.  Michelangelo flows around strikes like water or air.  Zuko’s breathless at the fluid style. It ends with Michelangelo falling completely to the floor under one of his kicks.  Zuko feels firm hands grab his still moving leg and suddenly he’s spinning.  He lands hard on the deck and he knows the fight is over.

No one speaks and Zuko looks to see the crowd staring at Michelangelo in awe.  A shadow covers him and Zuko looks into the grinning face of the spirit.  “Good spar!” The spirit holds out a hand.  

He stares at the peace offering before rolling over with a scowl.  He doesn’t need any help.  Zuko glares at the surrounding crew until they start to dissipate.  He didn't need an audience for such failure.  Although it doesn't really feel like one. 

“That was magnificent, the both of you,” Uncle says.  “I have never seen that style of fighting, Michelangelo.”

“I thought so,” Michelangelo smiles.  “That’s that ancient art of Ninjutsu baby!  By the way, Zuko, do you know how to fight with swords?”

Zuko turns to the spirit in shock.  How?

“Thought so,” Michelangelo hums.  “You kept reaching for your back a couple of times.  Leo does the same thing when we spar without weapons.”

Zuko pushes to his feet and racks his memory.  “Your older brother?”

“Yep!  He rocks a pair of twin katanas.  You’d love him!”

“I doubt it,” Zuko scowls.  “I can barely stand you.”

A weight lands heavy on his back and Zuko nearly tips over.  “Don’t say that, Zuko!  We’re bonded in strife!”

“Get off me!”  He puts the heel of his hand against the spirit's chin and pushes, but Michelangelo doesn’t budge.  In fact, the spirit’s grip grows tighter until he’s fully wrapped around Zuko’s torso.  There’s a laugh and Zuko sends Uncle a betrayed glare, “It’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry Prince Zuko,” Uncle chuckles.  “Michelangelo, please release my nephew.  He’s a little stressed.”

“Of course, he’s stressed,” the spirit says.  “We’ve been stuck at sea for weeks.”

“That is a good point,” Uncle hums.  “I do know of Fire Nation spa not too far from here.”

“Uncle!”

The spirit releases him so abruptly that Zuko nearly topples over.  “Well, why didn’t you say so?  We could all use a good massage.” 

Zuko stumbles before regaining his balance.  He glares at Michelangelo and pulls Uncle to the side.  “What are you doing?” he hisses.  “We can’t let anyone know about him!”

“That’s where you are wrong, nephew,” Uncle says.  “More people need to know that a Great Spirit has become your benefactor.”

“Why?”

A firm hand wraps around his.  “Trust me on this, Prince Zuko.  Nothing is more important than letting the people know that you have the backing of a powerful spirit.”  Unce straightens, “Now, let me speak to the captain about that spa.”

Zuko watches the man leave with a growing pit of confusion.  They should be telling his Father, not civilians.  Father would be pleased to hear this news.  A spirit hasn’t made direct contact with the Royal Family in generations.  He’ll push for it after this detour.  Then he would send a letter that Father couldn't ignore.  Zuko heads for the interior, ignoring the calls of the spirit behind him.  He needs to focus on what to write, and hopefully, they don’t waste time with this stupid spa idea. 

The spa is just as stupid and a waste of time as he feared.  The ship dropped them off days ago and Uncle still hasn't shown any sign of leaving.  How many back massages do you need before you decide to get back to the mission at hand?  Michelangelo hasn’t been any help either.  The turtle spends most of his days with the peasants.  Playing pointless games and performing tricks for the workers.  The spirit’s supposed to be demonstrating the strength and favourability of the Royal Family, not playing peasant games!  

Why couldn't he get a more serious spirit?  The only thing Michelangelo has proved is that spirits can be just as annoying as people.  At least the spirit hasn't demanded any blood or body parts from him yet.  Zuko's not sure how to navigate that when the time comes.  He'll need to speak to Uncle about it before it's too late.  Right now, watching the spirit turn to butter under the hands of the only servant who would touch him, makes him doubt the turtle was even capable of making such violent requests.

Zuko glares at Uncle and the spirit and refuses another fruit-flavored water from the servant.  What he needs is the Avatar.  Not useless pampering.  “Are you done yet?  We have an important mission to get back to.”

“Relax, Prince Zuko,” Uncle says.  “We’ve been stuck on a boat for the last few weeks.  This old man needs time to unwind.”

“We’ve been stuck on a ship for three years.  It didn’t seem to bother you before!”

“Listen to your Uncle, Zuks,” Michelangelo groans.  The masseuse pounds heavily against his shell.  “It wouldn’t kill you to relax.”

“Don’t call me that!”  

“It’s ok Michelangelo,” Uncle says.  “I’m done with my massage anyway.  Why don’t we go back to the room, and we’ll discuss our next move.”

Zuko gets up with a grunt.  “Finally.”  He walks over and grabs the spirit by the arm and drags him off the table.  “No, wait!  She hasn’t gotten to my shoulders!”

“She did your shoulders yesterday!”

“It wasn’t enough,” the spirit cries.  

Zuko ignores the spirit’s wails and drags him toward the room.  ‘Great spirit’ everyone says.  Zuko has yet to see anything ‘Great’ about him.  He’s more of a child than anything else.  He’s starting to believe that the spirit might actually be telling the truth about his age.  What would that say about Zuko?  that he was blessed with a spirit younger than him when there are ones older than the Nations themselves?  It would just prove that they're out to get him, he thinks darkly.  

“Look at this seashell, Prince Zuko,” Uncle says.  “I am going to add it to my collection.”

“Where did you find that?” Zuko asks.  “And forget about the useless shells.  Did you forget we have to carry everything ourselves now?”  The boats not returning.  They have their own orders to complete and Zuko didn't feel right demanding the captain change his directive.  Besides, they'll get a new ship.  Eventually.

“Hello brother.  Uncle.”

He turns around in shock.  Azula sits in the corner of the room, hands moving carelessly over an assortment of seashells.  The girl stands up with a flick of her hair and Zuko feels his heart constrict.  Gone is the baby fat and stubborn lisps hanging off the ends of her words.  She's grown up.  She walks towards him and her head falls just under his chin.

She’s gotten so tall.

“What are you doing here?”

“Where’s my hello?” she mocks.  “Have you become so uncivilized in our time apart Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Zuzu?” 

Zuko’s face falls.  Michelangelo.  He’d forgotten about the turtle.  Azula tilts with a raised eyebrow and Zuko shifts to try and hide the spirit from her view.

It doesn’t work.  Michelangelo slips from behind him and tries to step forward, but Zuko stops him with a hand on the turtle's wrist.  He doesn't want them to meet.  It will take nothing at all for Azula to steal this blessing from him.  She's never had a problem doing so in the past.  “This is your little sister, right?  Wow, you guys look so alike!”

Zuko shares a brief look with Azula.  Alike?  No one has ever said that about the royal siblings.  They all say that he resembles his mother, while Azula takes after their father.  A dig at his conduct and a compliment on her etiquette.   

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Michelangelo continues.  “I’m Michelangelo, but everyone calls me Mikey.”

Azula just looks at the spirit and her eyebrows furrow.  “ You’re the spirit?”

“Not you too,” Michaelangelo laughs, “I’m not a spirit.”

Zuko tugs on the spirit's wrist, but he doesn’t move.  “I have so many questions for you,” Michelangelo smiles.  “First, was Zuko always this pouty?”

Zuko flushes.  “I’m not pouty!”

“Sure,” the spirit sings.  He turns back to Azula, “Can you believe he hasn’t even cracked a smile yet?  I’ve known him for like, four weeks!”

Her mouth twitches, “four you say?”

Uncle steps forward and places a hand on Michelangelo’s shoulder.  “What do we owe this honor?”

Azula shoots the man a glare before sighing.  “Father has called for your return.  Family has suddenly become important to him.”

Zuko drops the spirit's arm in shock.  Home.  Father wants him home?  But why?  He's never even responded to any of his letters.

Azula’s face pulls into something serious.  “There are rumors and talks to overthrow him.  Treacherous plots.  Family is the only thing he can trust.” 

That…makes sense.  If there was any reason to call him home, it would be to secure and tighten the Royal line.  No one would dare move against him with both his children and the Dragon of the West at his side.  He'd be home, helping keep the throne safe and pushing the Nation in a better direction.  He knows better now.  He'll request a private audience with his father this time, and discusses some of the things he's seen during his banishment.

“Didn’t you hear me?” she says.  “Father regrets your banishment.  You should be happy, excited,” she frowns, “grateful.”

Zuko turns to the window.  Regret.  Father regrets his banishment.  He’s waited years to hear these very words.  It doesn’t feel real.  To have three years of shame end with just two sentences from his sister.

“-didn’t have to come here,” Azula finishes.  “What’s your answer?”

“Regret,” he says.  “Father regrets the banishment.”

Azula sighs.  “Clearly you need time to take it in.  I’ll retrieve you both tomorrow.”  Azula turns for the door and stops in the mouth of it.  “And yes Michelangelo, he has always been pouty.”

She leaves behind a mess of emotions and turmoil.  Redemption.  He’s being offered the chance of redemption.  Even Azula came out of her way to deliver this message.  They can finally be a family again.  His heart starts to beat and walks around the room.  He has so little to pack.  Most of his belongings were lost to Zhao and his band of pirates.  It doesn't matter.  He'll be stepping on real Fire Nation soil soon.  

He turns to Uncle, a smiles beginning to grow, but Uncle's face is grim.  "Prince Zuko."

The smile falls.

Of course, he argues with Uncle about it.  Zuko sits curled up in his room trying not to burn through his sleeves.  The man’s just jealous.  Why else would he try and ruin this for him?  He knows this is what Zuko’s been working towards for years, and now Uncle wants him to disregard it because it doesn’t sound like Father.  Maybe if the situation wasn’t so dire, then maybe, but there are traitors in the palace!  It makes sense to call back his family.  A line is better protected spread out, a voice hisses.  Azula always lies.   Zuko banishes the voice.  Father wants him back.  He has too.  

The door opens with a creak and Zuko closes his eyes.  “Leave me alone, Uncle.”

“It’s me.”

Zuko lifts his head.  The spirit closes the door and sits crossed-legged before him.  Zuko glares, “did Uncle tell you to talk to me?”

“No,” Michelangelo says.  “I was there for the fight remember?”

“So,” he spits.  “It’s none of your business.”

“It’s not,” the spirit agrees.  “I just wanted to say that I’m coming with you.”

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't that.  The anger drains from his frame.  “What?”

“I’m coming with you,” the spirit repeats.  “What can I say, I like you, and I don’t think you should go alone.  It’s always best to have someone in your corner, you know.”

In his corner.  No one’s ever been in his corner, except for Uncle, but look how that turned out.  Zuko swallows, “Thank you, Michelangelo.”

“Don’t mention it!” the spirit waves.  “And it’s Mikey.”

“Thank you,” Zuko says.  “Mikey.” 

Mikey sends him a grin and lays next to Zuko’s upright form.  “So, has your sister always been so serious?”

Zuko snorts.  That's an understatement, “Yes,” he answers.  “You never truly know what’s going on with her, except for one thing,” Zuko scowls.  “Azula always lies.”

“But you don’t think so now?”

He clicks his jaw.  “No I don’t.”  he sits in the silence before whispering, “I hope she isn’t.”

Mikey reaches out and places a hand on his arm.  “I hope not too, but I’ll be with you, no matter what.”

Zuko’s eyes go hot and he wipes at them furiously.  If what Uncle said was true, then it makes sense for Mikey to follow him anywhere, the spirit appeared for him.  There's no reason to get emotional.  He looks at the spirit's hand and traces the faint lightning-like scars running down the length of his arm.  “What are those scars?”

Mikey lifts his hand up, “These?  I got them from saving my brother.”  The spirit chuckles, “Opening that portal nearly took me with it, but we don’t give up on each other.  Ever.”

Never give up without a fight.

Zuko falls back on the mat and rolls over.  Never give up.  He can't give up on the chance that Father really wants him home, and if it turns out to be a trick, he'll be ready.  There's not much the world can throw at him that he won't survive out of sheer spite.  He's been fighting his entire life, he's not going to stop now.  Zuko lets the soft snores of the spirit beside him lull him into a light sleep.  He hears the wind flowing through the trees and the small creaking of floorboards.  A soft hand settles on his face and Zuko tries to focus on the blurred figure above him.  He blinks, waking up slowly to the calming songs of the birds, and the pull of the sun through the windows.  He sits up and places a hand on his forehead, but there's nothing there.  

He looks at the still sleeping form of the spirit and feels a calm come over him.  Mikey didn't leave.  His hope grows at the small act of comradery.  He has to believe that Azula is telling the truth.  Why else would she come all the way out here?  It's surely not to visit him.  She, like Father, hasn't responded to a single letter.  He grips the sheet.  She's telling the truth, his banishment is over.  He's going home.  It's finally over. 

It all comes crashing down hours later.   

Chapter Text

Toph

Toph ignores the roar of the crowd and focuses on the vibrations before her.  This guy is good, better than some of the losers that sneak in here to challenge her, but he’s not good enough to beat her.  The man shifts and Toph reads the attack before he finishes.  She twists, angling her left foot and a wall of stone rises with the motion.  Toph feels the vibration of rock colliding, but she’s already moving.  She twists, plants a heel into the arena and a small platform of rock shoots into the man's dropping foot.  The guy shouts, tipping off balance, and Toph pulls her left arm in a sharp cutting motion.  Another slab of stone hits heavy in the middle of the falling man's back and flings him out of the arena.  There’s a resounding crash when he hits the stands. 

The crowd erupts into a cacophony of noise and she grins.  It always feels good to win.  She turns to the seats with a raised fist and the crowd screams even louder.  She rides that wave all the way through the tunnels home.  She crosses the boards of the manor and stops at the end of the tunnel.  Toph stomps, lifting herself straight up and pulling the earth open in the garden above her.  She welcomes the smell of fresh air before kicking the hole closed behind her.

“A-HA!”

Toph screams and pivots.  She stomps a sizable piece of rock from the earth and punches it toward the voice.  There’s an assortment of snaps and shouts as the stone crashes through the branches.  A heavy weight falls to the ground and Toph wiggles her toes in surprise.  “Are you crazy!” she hisses.  She pushes deeper into her element but there are no approaching steps or heartbeats despite the commotion.  “Who sneaks up on a blind girl?!”

The spirit sits up with a shake.  “Don’t try to turn this on me!  I caught you sneaking out!” he stops, “Well in.  You know what I mean!”

She crosses her arms.  “Yeah, what of it?”

“Toph!” Raph says.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Hey!  It’s not like I need to report everything to you.  So, I sneak out every once in a while.  What’s the big deal?!” she narrows her eyes.  “What’re doing up anyway?”

Raph gets to his feet.  “It wasn’t a big deal until I had to find out myself.  Then it became a big deal.”  He steps forward and pokes her, gently, in the shoulder, “and I’m up, Toph , to catch you in the act.”

She bats his hand away and scowls.  When did he notice she was sneaking out?  She checks the grounds every time before she leaves.  Maybe she’s gotten lax?  She wouldn’t doubt it.  It doesn’t take much to break out of this house.

“It’s the Rumble isn’t it.”

She rears back.  “What?  How?”

“I knew it!  I heard people talking about it in town.  Earthbending fights, Toph.  Seriously?”

This can’t be happening.  No one is supposed to know about this.  No one.  Her heart sinks.

He’s going to tell her parents.

The spirit continues.  “It’s dangerous Toph.”

“Why!” she explodes.  “Because I’m blind!  Is that it?”

“No,” he says.  “I know you can do more than what people think.  It’s dangerous ,” he emphasizes, “because you're like, what, nine?  You shouldn’t be in underground fights.”

“I’m twelve!” 

“That’s not helping your case.”

Toph stomps and the whole ground shakes.  It’s not fair!  She can take care of herself.  Raph knows she can take care her herself.  He can’t take this away from her.  It’s her only outlet, her only moment to stretch her legs before squeezing back into the perfect little box for her parents.  

Raph sighs at her silence.  “Look, how about this.  I’ll come to your next match?”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he nods.  “Yeah.  I’ll go to your next fight!  If it gets too dangerous, I’ll pull you outta there.” 

“You can’t come with me,” she hisses.

“Why not?!”

“Do you have rocks for brains?” Toph glares.  “Everyone in town knows that the precious, pitiful Beifongs daughter’s been blessed with a spirit.  What do you think people are going to say if they see you with me?”

“Good point,” Raph hums.  “Then I’ll go in disguise!  If I can hide in New York, then this should be a piece of cake!”

She grabs her hair in frustration.  “You’re not making any sense!”

“No, this will totally work,” he says.  “I’ll find some clothes and wear a mask!  Fans always dress up, they’ll never know it’s me!”

She sets her jaw.  “We don’t have anything to fit you.”

“Toph,” he deadpans, “the next match is a few days away.  I’m sure I can put something together.”

Toph digs her toes into the ground.  This can’t be happening.  What if he decides it's dangerous?  What’s even his definition of dangerous?  He’ll tell her parents for sure, and then she’ll never be alone again!

He steps forward and she lets his hand land on her shoulder.  “Toph,” he says.  “Relax.  Even if I think it’s crazy, I’m not going to tell anyone.”

She blinks, but his heart is steady.  “You’re not?”

“No,” he says.  “I know a thing or two about hiding things from your parents.  You won’t believe what my brothers and I get up to behind dad's back.  Or what the guys think they’re hiding from me!”

“Dad?”

“Dad,” he repeats.  “We sneak out ALL the time.  So I’m not going to narc on you.”

She listens.  Listens harder than ever before, but there’s not even a hiccup in his heartbeat.  He’s telling the truth.  He won’t take this from her.  “Fine,” she says.  

“Great!” he answers.  “I’ll go into town tomorrow.  Hopefully, they’ll take my money this time.”

She rolls her eyes.  He must really have rocks in that big head of his.  “Can I go now?”

“This isn’t an interrogation,” He huffs.  “Well-not anymore.  Go get some sleep.  Your teachers coming tomorrow right?”

“Don’t remind me,” she mutters.

“I’ll come by and watch that too.”

She snorts and pivots for her room.  Raph sits through most of her ‘training’ but he always falls asleep during the middle.  Lucky.  That’s the only exciting part about these classes anyway.  Mr. Yu twitches every time Raph’s snores break his monologues.  Toph slips into the house unnoticed and fumbles through her nightly routine.  The high from the win is completely gone now.  She folds her outfit and slides it under the bed but she doesn’t get up.  She’s never been exposed before.  “He’s not going to say anything,” she mumbles.  Toph gets up and pulls herself into the bed, but her eyes won't close.  Toph twists and turns, trying to get some sleep but she just can’t.  “He said he won’t tell,” she repeats.  He’s been trustworthy so far, so there’s no reason to doubt him this time.  

She flips again, but there’s a difference between knowing that she’s better than she lets on, and keeping underground earthbending fights a secret from her parents.  Raph could completely change his mind after the next Rumble.  He could try and pull her off sage.  She grips the sheets.  She can’t let that happen.  Toph needs to find a way to make sure Raph doesn’t come, but how do you stop a spirit?  She kicks at the covers, she’ll figure it out.  She always does.

Toph doesn’t see Raph again until Mr. Yu leads her to the training area.  The man stiffens immediately at the spirit's presence, and Toph hides a grin behind her sleeve.  Mr. Yu doesn’t like the spirit, but Toph can’t tell if it’s fear or something else.  The man gives a stilted bow to Raph before turning his attention to her.  Toph slips into a demure posture and lets the man talk her through the basics of moving a rock.  She remains completely silent through the lesson, not like Mr. Yu cares, but halfway through Raph shifts.  She doesn’t look, but she’s surprised to find the spirit still awake.  Mr. Yu’s heartbeat jumps at the movement, “N-now Mistress,” he says, “Why don’t you try?”

The lesson continues like this for an excruciating hour before Mr. Yu’s time runs up.  The man bows to her and takes off for the main building.  At least with Raph here he doesn’t try to push the lesson past the mandatory hour.  Toph’s face transforms into a scowl after his steps enter the house.  She bends, cracking her back hard before landing at Raph’s feet.

“Man that was boring,” he says.  “How do you do it?”

She digs a finger in her ear.  “Years of practice.”

“You know,” he says and she already knows where this is going.  “You could show your parents.  Prove to them that you can take care of yourself?”

She wraps her arms around her legs with a grunt.  “Oh, I tried.  I remember when I felt my first vibration,” she frowns.  She ran into their room that night, excited to describe that she could see .  That she felt a maid coming without hearing her first.  Her parents were furious, but it was like they didn’t even hear her.  They were so focused on the fact that she came to their room unattended.  They screamed at the servants.  Ranting and raving about how she could’ve gotten hurt in the two steps it took to get to their room.  “They didn’t take it well.”

He places a hand on her shoulder and doesn’t say anything.  It’s…nice.  He gives her a squeeze before standing up.  “I’m going to head into town and buy an outfit.  You wanna come?  I think I might be able to persuade your parents?”  

“No,” she says.  There’s no way they would let her out with so little notice.  Not with so many people on the streets.  “I’m good.”

“Suit yourself,” He walks off.  She hears him mumble, “What goes with red?  Ugh, where’s Mikey when you need him.” 

She smiles faintly and listens until his footsteps become too distant to track.  Toph sits there in the useless training area.  You can’t even tell anything went on here.  The ground and grass are still in the same condition it was when Mr. Yu started ‘training’ her years agp.  She twists the fabric of her sleeves.  It’s not like the arena, where her mark as a bender is permanent.  Toph shoots quickly to her feet and dust off her dress.  She still needs to figure out how to stop Raph from coming tomorrow night, but she doesn’t have a single idea.  She kicks a rock in frustration and roams the manor grounds, letting her feel guide her on the mind-numbingly familiar path.  A sliver of a thud tickles the arch of her foot.  It's so faint that she almost misses it.  She stops, planting her feet firmly against the dirt, and it doesn’t take long for another thud to hum against her toes.  Toph twists and follows the growing vibrations.  

The path opens up to the front of the manor.  She feels out the shapes of half a dozen workers and the easy void of a carriage.  She stands off to the side and listens as they unload heavy barrels against the manor grounds.  She wiggles her toes, feels something pull at the edge of her senses, and walks toward the closest barrel.  Her hand touches the wood, following the grain until she finds the edge.  Toph reaches forward but there’s no lid, she hesitates for just a moment before leaning in.  She doesn’t have to reach far as her fingertips come in contact with delicious earth.  She furrows her brow, it’s earth, but different.  Pure, but loose.  She pulls her hand back and touches a finger to her lips.  

Salt.

“Mistress!  What are you doing so close to the door?”

Toph lets her hand fall and pulls her face into one of confusion.  “I’m sorry.  I heard a noise.”

“No,” the guard says.  “It’s my fault for not looking out for you.  Here, let me lead you to your room.”

She holds out a hand and the guard takes it.  They take a few steps and Toph feels another barrel make contact with the ground.  “Have we received new furniture?” 

“No,” the man laughs.  “Your parents have ordered some salt, but there is nothing to worry about.  It is simply for your protection.”

Ugh.  “Protection?”

“Yes.  With the arrival of such a great spirit, your parents are concerned about what that could mean for the future.  Salt is spiritually cleansing and protective after all.”

Toph hums and stops asking questions.  She’s never heard this about salt, but then again, her family wasn’t exactly spiritual until Raph landed in the middle of their lives.   The guard leads Toph to her room and she thanks him with a bow.  Her maid is at her side in an instant.  Toph lets the woman fuss over her clothes and hair before lifting a hand, “Sun.” 

“Yes, Mistress?”

“I need you to look something up in the library.”

Toph waits until the crickets are singing and the manor is quiet to sit up.  She slips out of bed and lets her feet touch the cold floor.  She listens, but there’s not a single vibration on the grounds.  She makes her way out of the room and keeps one heel focused on the area around her.  She slips into the courtyard and immediately makes a break for the back of the garden.  The storage house slides into her awareness as a heavy block of stone with an empty center.

Toph takes in the building and lets her fingers feel the cold metal of the lock before walking to the side of the stone house.  Toph bends her knees and releases a powerful stomp with her left foot.  The stone side of the building sinks into the ground and she steps into the room.  Toph lets her feet guide her through the maze of supplies, hands skimming the wooden planks of the boxes before she finds what she’s looking for.  

Everything from today is situated near the front of the room until the administrator can get in and start organizing the intake.  Toph feels the top of the closest box and sticks her arm in until she touches glorious salt.  “Gotcha.”  

She leans over the edge and grabs two small blocks and throws them over her shoulder.  She does this a few more times until there’s a decent pile at her feet.  Toph dusts off her hands and falls into a cross-legged position before the pile.  She starts pushing the blocks together, shaping them until there’s one big block in her hands.  She gets to her feet with a grin and turns back to the barrel.  She can feel the salt on the edge of her senses, but it extends deeper into the room.  She frowns and drags her hands across the barrels she can reach.  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven….

“Geez dad,” she mutters.  “What are you preparing for?  A spirit army?”

She turns and walks out of the storage room and seals it with a kick.  She jogs to the entrance of her tunnel and keeps an extra ear open for Raph.  She’s still not over how he got the drop her, and she refuses for him to do it again.  Toph takes a few steps away and pulls a wide circle open with a careful step and punch of the hand.  She throws the block of salt into the air and breaks it into fine particles with precision.  She takes a breath and begins to guide the salt meticulously into the thin outline until the whole thing is packed with the mineral.

She feels it out, nods and sinks the circle back into the earth, invisible to anyone without her sense.  Toph steps forward, feet twisting, and the earth just beneath the surface swings out like a door.  

“That should do it.”   Now all she has to do is get Raph to step into it.  She won’t keep him there forever, but it’ll serve as a warning.  Toph stares down at the ground and her stomach twists.  She turns and heads back to her room.  She has no choice.  Toph just needs to stop him for tonight, and then she can figure out a long-term solution.  She falls into bed and pulls the covers up, he’ll only be stuck for a few hours.  if he deems the Rumble too dangerous, she’ll be stuck for the rest of her life.  Her eyes fall close but sleep alludes her until the early hours of the morning. 

The day passes so quickly that she hardly remembers what she did.  Which isn’t much different from most days in this house, but still.  She’s tense, she’s never tense.  She frowns in the mirror as the maids prepare her for bed.  She hasn’t felt like this on a Rumble nigh in months.  Raph is already messing this up for her and they haven’t even left yet!  

“Is something wrong Mistress?”

Toph forces a yawn, “Just tired.” 

The maids finish quickly after her announcement, and Toph lies uselessly in bed for the next hour.  She sits up, as usual, pulls her outfit from under the bed as usual, and feels her feet lead her down the familiar path as usual.  A typical Rumble night.  She gets closer to her tunnel and can feel the steady heartbeat of the spirit.  He’s right next to the circle.  Her shoulders draw up, “you can do this Toph.” 

Her feet stop just outside the opposite end and she doesn’t move.  Raph turns to her, heart steady, and walks her way.  Toph shifts, widening her base, and tries not to fidget.

“Hey!” he says.  Raph takes another step.  “I probably should have asked what time we were meeting. I’ve been out here for an hour.”

She nods her throat too full to speak.  He’s so close to the opening.

He takes another step.  “Is something wrong?”

Toph moves.  She sinks deep into her knees and pulls her arms up.   The door snaps closed behind the spirit and she stomps, rising the barrier a few inches from the ground.  Raph stumbles but doesn’t fall.  His heartbeat picks up but falls just as suddenly.  “Ugh, what’s this?”

“I’m sorry,” she says, “but I can’t let you come with me.”

“Oookkay?”

“I have barriers like this all over the grounds,” she lies.  “Don’t try to follow me.”

Raph crouches, “Is this salt?”

“I’m going to leave for tonight,” she finishes.  “And I’ll let you out when I come back.”

Raph doesn’t respond but she wasn’t expecting him to.  No one likes to be tricked, or trapped.  She balls her hands into a fist.  Toph had to do it.  To show him that she can take care of herself, besides he’ll only be here for a few hours tops.  She even gave him enough room to lie down.  The spirit lifts a leg and Toph tenses.  He should know now that there’s no use in trying anything.  Sun said that the purity of the mineral literally repels spirits.  That they can feel it instinctively as it fights against their nature.  Toph doesn’t want him to get hurt, she just needs him to stay still.  “Sto-!”

The spirit steps over the edge like it’s nothing.  Her jaw drops.  How?  

“Yeah,” he says, pulling his other leg until he’s completely out of the barrier.  “Despite whatever….that was, I’m still going with you.”

She tries not to shake.  How?  How could he walk past the salt barrier?  He should be bouncing against it, not stepping over it!  Was the information Sun gave her wrong, or is Raph just that powerful of a spirit?  Toph blinks and straightens her back.  What is she doing?  Trembling because some stupid salt trick didn’t work?  She’s an earthbender!  One of the best there ever is, she’s not going to fold to Raph.  She pushes past the spirit and stomps the ground hard.  There’s nothing she can do about it now, so there’s no use crying about it.  The rock lowers her into the tunnel.  “You coming or what, spirit boy!”

Raph jumps after her without a sound, but she’s already walking.  “Are you mad about the salt?” 

Rocks crack under her feet.  “First things first,” she pivots, “I don’t use my real name at Rumbles.  I go by Blind Bandit.”

“Got it.” 

“Also,” she smirks, “I’m the reigning champ, so I don’t fight until the end.”  

“That’s cool,” he says, “are you the only one that uses a stage name?”

“No dummy,” she answers.  “We all do.  Although people really get into it.  I’ve heard a lot of them dress up in costumes.”  

“Wait,” the spirit stops.  “Is this….wrestling?”

“No, because I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh my gosh,” the spirit says.  “It totally is!  I love wrestling!”

She slows.  “You do?”

“Wrestling is like the best thing to happen in my dimension,” he gushes.  “Wow, wrestling.  With earthbending!  This is going to be so cool!”

Huh.  The spirit's heartbeat is going crazy with excitement.  She feels a knot loosen in her chest, maybe this won’t be as bad as she thought.  They get to the end of the tunnel and Toph pull them both through the top with a kick of her foot.  They’re standing in the entrance for the fighters now.  She grabs Raph by the wrist and drags him toward the opening of the arena.  “Go find yourself a seat.  I’ll be here after I win.”

The spirit peaks over the edge and his heartbeat kicks up.  “Oh, man!  There are people with signs.  And costumes!” he gasps, “the arena looks like a wrestling ring.  This is going to be awesome!”

“Pick your jaw off the floor,” she says.  “I’m going to head back with the rest.”  Toph turns but stops, “And avoid the first few rows unless you want to get squished.”

“I see the perfect seat,” he answers.  “Good luck To-.  Good luck, Blind Bandit.”

She grins, “Please, I don’t need luck.”  

Toph makes her way to the area reserved for fighters and sits in her respective corner.  Raph's almost more excited to be here than she is.  Maybe she misjudged his reaction to all this.  He was practically dancing at the thought of seeing her kick earthbender butt.  She laughs a little, she can’t believe she was going to set him up in some sort of spirit trap.  When did she start acting in fear?  Her smile falls a bit, there’s still time for Raph to change his mind.  She doesn’t think he will, not now, but she can’t help but worry. 

Sound bubbles down the hallway and Toph leans back with a sigh.  The Rumble’s starting and from what she can feel in this room, it’s going to be a long one.  There seems to be more and more challengers every time but Toph’s not complaining.  It gives her a chance to actually practice and make some adults cry.  Time usually passes slowly back here, but today is different.  Fast.  Her leg jumps against the stone and she frowns at the appendage.  She hasn’t been this amped for a fight in a while.  

“Blind Bandit!” A voice calls, “You’re up!”

Toph places a hand on her jittering leg and takes a breath.  She gets to her feet and jerks her head to the left, releasing a string of cracks down her neck.  “Let’s do this.”

In the end, Toph had nothing to worry about.  In fact, it was almost laughable at how easy it was to finish this guy.  She thought he’d at least give her a real challenge with a name like Landslide.  Maybe even last five minutes in the arena, but no, she’s chewing him up and spitting him out in under three.  The crowd goes wild and one fan, in particular, is going ballistic.  Toph can hear the heavy baritone of Raph’s voice as he shouts her name from the stands.  Her feet twitch and she smiles, her face heating up.

He stands, screaming, in the front row.  

The platform lowers beneath her and she hands the belt back.  There are some congratulations when she walks by, and some grumbles from people she beat, but she's used to it.  You don’t become the Rumble champion as long as she has without a few whiners.  Toph steps into the hallway and leans against the wall.  She listens as the arena slowly drains of people, but one’s approaching her with a wild heart.

“That was AWESOME!” Raph shouts.  The spirit is out of breath when he steps next to her but his hands keep moving.  “I can’t believe you beat Landslide!  He crushed it tonight!”

Toph snorts, “Please, that guy wasn’t even worth my time.”  She stomps the floor and they sink into the tunnel.  She takes a step and punches the hole closed.  “He didn’t even last five minutes.”

“I know!” Raph says. “It was so cool!  I asked the people around me and they said you're undefeated!”

“Duh,” she says, rubbing her nose.  “I’m the best eatherbenders here!  I haven’t lost my belt since I won it.”

“The belt,” Raph moans, “It’s just like wrestling back home!  I can’t wait for the next one!”

She stops.  “So you won’t tell my parents?”

“Toph,” he says.  “I already promised, didn’t I?  Besides, I have nothing to worry about.  You handled that fight like it was nothing!”

Her face goes hot and she looks away grinning.  

Raph makes a move but stops.  “Is it ok if I pick you up?”  

Top smiles, “Sure thing spirit-boy.”

Large hands slip under her armpits and lift her off the ground.  Her feet twitch against the emptiness before she settles on the thick shoulders of the spirit.  She moves her hands and feels the rough scales of his skin and the hard points of his shell.  Her touch flutters across the edge and she pauses.  “What’s with the hole?”

“Oh,” Raph says. “Battle wound.  Don’t worry about it.”

Battle wound?  Spirits fighting spirits?  That’s a story she’s gotta hear.  She opens her mouth, but the muscles underneath her legs tense.  She lets the question die in her throat.  She’ll ask about it later.  Toph lets her hands touch his head and she twitches in surprise at the feel of fabric.  Her fingers skim down the rough, unfamiliar texture and bump into a knot of cloth.  She pulls at the two hanging tails, and pulls, and pulls, and pulls some more.  “Jeez, what’s with the ponytail?”

“It’s not a ponytail!”

Toph grins.  “Sure feels like one.”

“Whatever,” Raph grumbles.  His hands wrap loosely around her ankles.  “You were awesome out there!  I’m totally making some merch for the next one.”

Merch?  She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask.

He starts walking.  “Blind Band-it.” he says.  “Blind Band-it.  Blind Band-it!  BLIND BAND-IT!  BLIND BAND-IT!”

He jumps back and forth with each word and starts to pick up speed.  Toph laughs and wraps her arms around his head as he starts jogging down the tunnel.  She’s felt this hold before.  Felt fathers and mothers carry their children around their necks to the ecstatic cries of their kids.  She’s never even been picked up.  Her parents so determined to keep her rooted and locked to the manor grounds.  Raph’s running now, feet landing solidly against the ground that she can almost pretend to feel the rock beneath him.  He takes a leap, pivots off the wall, and lands hard against the ground for no reason at all.  Toph laughs in exhilaration and throws her arms up with a whoop.  “BLIND BAND-IT!” she joins, “BLIND BAND-IT!  BLIND BAND-IT”

“The world's greatest earthbender!” 

“Hell yeah I am!” she cackles.  She is the best!  The world just hasn’t seen her yet.

“Toph!  Language!”

She laughs again and their voices echo off the tunnels all the way home.

Zuko

Breakfast is a quiet affair.  Despite following the same routine, Uncle hasn’t said anything for most of the morning.  He still prepares Zuko’s plate and brews a perfect pot of jasmine tea, his favorite.  It’s infuriating.  If the man’s going to abandon him, then he might as well do it thoroughly.  Zuko stabs viciously at the rice and chews in stony silence.  Again, another favorite.  Two can play this game.  He won’t say anything until he’s ready to leave with Azula.  Uncle sighs and moves to pick up his own chopsticks and starts eating.  Zuko’s shoulders begin to pull up with each passing second.  Is Uncle really not going to say anything?  He leaves today!  He might never see the man again.

A loud snore breaks through the clinking of chopsticks against porcelain and Zuko glares at the closed door.  How can Mikey sleep at a time like this?!  A bowl lands heavily against the table and Zuko turns back to Uncle.  The man keeps his eye on the food with an expression that reminds Zuko of a frozen night and impenetrable walls.  Zuko looks away.

“Prince Zuko,” Uncle sighs.  “I’m coming with you.”

Zuko drops his chopsticks.  “Y-you changed your mind?”

“Family sticks together right?” Uncle smiles.  Uncle reaches over and places a hand on his shoulder.  “I would never let you face this alone.”

Zuko feels warm all over like embers reigniting.  He places a hand over Uncle’s and squeezes.

“Aww!”

Zuko jumps.  He turns just in time to see a blur of green and orange.  He yelps, falling backward but that doesn’t deter the spirit.  Mikey slams into him and wraps his arms tightly around Zuko’s neck.  Zuko plants a hand behind him to stop the fall and puts the opposite hand between him and Mikey’s grinning face.  “What are you doing!”

“I’m just so happy that you guys made up!”  Mikey pulls back.  “Plus you smiled!”

His face heats.  “So what if I did!”

Mikey smirks.  “You love him.”

“Of course I do!”  The heat travels from Zuko’s face to his ears after the declaration.  There’s a soft inhale from across the table but Zuko can’t bring himself to look.

“I love you too, nephew.”

Zuko peaks and the older man’s face is open and wet.  There’s something soft growing on Uncle’s expression and it makes Zuko squirm.  He pushes to his feet and ignores Mikey’s overexaggerated flailing.  “We’re going to be late!”  He walks out of the kitchen and heads for his room.

“Late for what?” He hears Mikey asks.  “It’s not like she’s going to leave without us.”

“No,” Uncle responds.  “No, I don’t believe she will.”

The walk down the mountain is unusually long.  He can see the ship in the distance, but each step seems to take hours.  It just doesn’t feel real.  An end to the banishment.  An end to the shame.  It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and it’s just a few feet away.  They finally make it to the base of the mountain and start the short walk across the pier.  The soldiers are lined up on both sides and bowed shallowly at the waist.

Zuko hasn’t seen a royal procession in years.

He bows to the captain and thanks him silently for his mastery of the ocean.  He stands tall and stares at the open face of his sister and can’t help but smile.  He walks up the ramp, Uncle and Mikey at his back, and readies himself for the journey home.

“You heard the Princess,” The captain calls.  “Raise the anchors.  We are taking the prisoners home!”

The world stops.  Every soldier, every breath, even Azula doesn’t move.  Prisoners?  Did she come all this way to arrest them?  It hits him all at once.  Uncle was right.  Uncle was right to doubt Azula and Zuko was the fool to trust her.  He’s always the fool.  To think that he would go home and see his family, friends, and Mei .   How foolish of him to believe anything out of her mouth even mimics the truth.  His heart burns to ash in his chest before rising in a howling inferno.  There’s a heartstopping beat of silence, her face falls into something truly vicious before the world snaps into sudden sound and movement.  He feels fire at his back and Mikey shouts, but Zuko only has eyes on one person.  He throws the captain out of his way with smoke on his tongue.  “You lied to me!” 

She smirks.  “Like I’ve never done that before.”

He sprints up the ramp, taking out the two guards at the top, and lands heavily on the deck.  He stares at her, takes in her condensation, and lets his rage taper the fire in his hands to fine points.  Zuko charges with a shout.  He forgets his form, forgets the basics, forgets everything.  He’s all anger and wild fire.  Screaming out in rage and devastation.  He can’t even focus on the words she’s saying, but her intentions are clear.  Azula’s aiming to hurt with her words like always, but he doesn’t care.  He doesn’t care that Uncle and Mikey are calling for him.  He just wants to land one blow, wants to sink one burning hand against her so she can finally feel the agony that echoes from his own face.

Zuko follows her up the raised platform and she finally retaliates.  She twists, grabbing his arm before pushing him away with a scorching blue flame.  He falls, and immediately plants his shoulders against the ground, he uses the momentum to roll completely until he’s on his knees.  He looks up, but she’s already flowing through the forms for lightning with a grin on her face.  His eyes widen at the sight.

An orange chain soars through the air above him and winds around her with devastating precision.  The chain tightens, snapping Azula’s arms to her side and the sudden break of form halts the electricity.  Her face falls in shock before the chain moves.  She jerks, shout catching the wind before she’s flying through the air.  Zuko twists with the motion with his heart in his throat.  “Don’t!”  Don’t kill her.  Mikey’s never been anything but jovial, but he’s still a spirit.  Azula not only lied to him, but also to Mikey.  She might not have intended it, but she attempted to deceive a spirit.  A disrespected spirit is a murderous spirit.  The chain unravels around Azula’s waist as soon as she clears the railing.  Her momentum slows and she disappears over the edge.  He leans forward, listening for anything, and sags when there’s a splash.

Hands are on him in the next moment and he flinches.  “We must go, Prince Zuko!”

“Are you ok?”  

He turns to the spirit.  Mikey didn’t kill his sister.  He’s seen a portion of what this spirit is capable of, and it's left him shaking.  Mikey could have easily killed Azula for her insolence, but he didn’t.  Zuko feels himself adjust his position until he’s on his knees, he goes to lower his head, already letting his forearms warm with the heat of a XieNi offering but a touch stops him.

“You can thank him later, Prince Zuko,” Uncle says.  The man pulls him to his feet, “we must get out of here.”

Zuko nods and curses at the creak behind him.  He pivots and falls into a defensive stance.  He should have known that there would be more soldiers in the depths of the ship.  Azula would never be so careless as to pull out her entire fighting force.  They’ll have to deflect as many as they can and escape before Azula gets out of the water.  He should be scared, but he can feel the heat of Mikey’s weapons on the back of his neck and Uncle's steady support to his left.  They’re going to make it off this ship.  One way or another.  

What steps onto the platform isn’t more soldiers.  It’s not even a human, but a tall, lithe spirit covered in dark shades of greens and purples.  Zuko lets his hands fall in shock.  A spirit.  Azula has a spirit.  But how, and why didn’t she say anything?  Of course, she’s been blessed with a spirit , a familiar bariton hisses.  Your sister has always been lucky.

“Donnie?”

Mikey moves past him with incredible speed, so fast that Zuko has a hard time tracking him.  He just barely catches Mikey throwing himself through the air at the unknown spirit.  Mikey lands hard against the purple spirit, but it doesn’t fall.  Instead, it wraps its arms around Mikey.  There’s a faint sound of moving machinery before a sickening thin third arm ruptures from its back.  The appendage hovers and Zuko’s stomach rolls when the light flashes off the limb.  It’s metal, but it doesn’t move like any metal he’s ever seen.  The metal arm hovers over Mikey before patting the smaller spirit on the head.

“It’s good to see you too, Michael,” the spirit says.  

The spirits separate but the echo of a dozen feet running up the ramp steals his attention.  Zuko pivots, berating himself.  He let himself forget what they were fighting against.  Two soldiers make it over the lip first.  They crouch in tandem, stances solid, before throwing fire.  Zuko braces to deflect it, but he doesn’t get the chance to.  A wave of purple passes over him and Uncle to engulf the flames of the soldiers.  The wall doesn’t stop, however.  It keeps moving until it pushes the soldiers and the ones behind off the ramp.  The men shout before a chorus of splashes reach the deck.  The energy doesn’t disappear.  

“So this is the brother?” He hears it say.  “I gotta say I was expecting something else.  I’ve heard nothing but terrible things about him.”

Zuko turns back to the spirits to see the new one lowering a spinning staff.  It’s glowing, Zuko notices.  Both the spirit and the weapon.  Spiritual power pouring out of its unnatural markings, just like Mikey.   A hand lands on his shoulder and Zuko jumps.  He glances but Uncle’s staring hard at the new spirit.  “We must proceed with caution.  Nothing but the proper respect and ceremony for this one.”

“-haven’t seen them yet,” Mikey’s saying. 

“Me neither,” the spirit sighs.  “Don’t worry, one of us will find them eventually.”

There’s a weighted silence between them.  “You’re not coming with me?”

“Not yet,” the spirit answers.  “You could always stay here.”

Zuko’s heart stops.  Mikey can’t leave.  He promised .

“She wants to throw them in jail.”

“I’m aware.”

They stare at each other before switching to something he can’t really understand.  The pull of consonants and the push of vowels sounds familiar, but the placement is falling in a pattern he doesn’t recognize.  He’s never heard anything like it.

“The language of spirits,” Uncle whispers.

“You better go,” it says.  Switching to something recognizable.  “I’ll fish Azula out of the water after you leave.”

Mikey slips in for another hug.  “You’re not going to get in trouble are you?”

“I’m a spirit,” it smirks.  “I’m allowed to work in mysterious ways.”

It turns to them and Zuko flenches at the coldness in its eyes.  He bows immediately at the waist and puts his hands in the fire symbol.  He and Uncle don’t say a word.

“You both better make sure nothing happens to my brother.”

Brother?

“As you command, Great Spirit,” Uncle answers.

“Nothing better happen to you, Donnie!” Mikey adds.

“Please,” the spirit says, “this boat is made for royalty.  Azula travels with a royal procession and like six different chefs.  I think I’ll be fine.  Now get out of here before she throws a temper tantrum.”

Shock runs through him at how this spirit is discussing his sister, but he doesn’t unfold.

The spirit sighs.  “I have accepted your word.  Do not break it.  Now go.”

Zuko unbends with Uncle at the dismissal.  They run for the ramp, but Zuko hesitates.  He shouldn’t look back, he has no power to question the ways of a spirit, but he has to make sure Mikey is following.

Mikey remains next to the spirit, but he starts jogging down the platform with a grin.  “Man! ‘I’ve accepted your word.’  What was that, D?”

“Open a book while you’re at it,” the spirit yells.  “Preferably one on spirits!”  

Mikey laughs and runs down the ramp with them.  Zuko breathes in relief.  Mikey stayed.  He could’ve chosen to stay with this new powerful spirit, but he chose to stay with him.   Zuko looks for the guards, but all are either unconscious or in the water, so they don’t stop.  They run as far from the pier and spa until they can’t run anymore.  They stop by a river and Zuko falls to his knees in exhaustion.  They should be far enough away.  He pants into the dirt and catches his reflection in the water.  

He traces the edge of his scar and follows the lines to his scalp.  He takes in the baldness, a futile attempt of atonement, and settles on his topknot.  He sinks deep into his knees, an indignant fury growing in his stomach, but he smothers it.  Zuko knows what he must do.  He pulls out the dagger.  He stares at the steel before running it through the root of his topknot in a smooth motion.  The weight falls from his head and he clings to the hair in his hand.  It feels heavy.

He offers the blade to Uncle and the man takes it without hesitation.  They drop their topknots into the water and the reality starts to settle in.  They are fugitives of their nation.  Renouncing everything that made them who they are.  Who they were.  Zuko tightens his fist.  He has to capture the Avatar now, there’s no other option.  A hand covers his trembling one and Zuko feels his resolve hardening.  Uncle’s lost so much just by joining this voyage with him.  Zuko can’t let him lose anything else.

“Are you guys done giving yourselves makeovers!” Mikey groans.  “That was Donnie!  I knew I couldn’t be the only one here.”

“Remind this old man how you know this spirit?”

“He’s my brother.”

Zuko looks up.  “Donatello,” he remembers, “the smart one?”

“Donnie’s a little more than just smart,” Mikey says.  “He’s a genius!  You should see some of the things he’s built!” 

A genius.  He recalls the brief encounter.  The lack of emotion in its eyes and the certainty in its tone.  It fits Azula perfectly.

“Another turtle spirit,” Uncle says, “and it has revealed itself to Azula.”

Uncle stands up and his face is set into hard lines.  Zuko gets to his feet but Uncle doesn’t move.  He stands there in contemplation and Zuko desperately wants to know why.  The man turns them, face grim but with a hint of something in his eyes.  “Maybe your sister isn’t as lost as I thought.”

Katara

Katara has never wanted to leave a stronghold as much as she wants to leave this one.  The Generals greeting was nice, he even made it a point to mention and say something nice about all of them, except for Leo.  That was her first indication that the man was bad news.  He completely disregarded the spirit.  General Fong didn’t even offer so much of a prayer!  His eyes had just filtered over the spirit for a brief moment before zeroing in on Aang.  It didn’t seem to bother Leo of course, the spirit is oddly lax on protocol, but that doesn’t make it right.  Maybe other Nations do it differently, but Katara’s been taught the proper respect and ceremonies when dealing with spirits.  Even Sokka with all his ‘spirit nonsense’ knows the basics, he just chooses to ignore them.  Her opinion grows even worse when the General reveals his plans.  It’s crazy, and she seems to be the only one who sees it.

She's sitting on a bed for the first time in weeks and she can’t even enjoy it.  Not while Aang is having a private talk with General Fong.  Sokka and Leo don’t seem to be too concerned, and that just irritates her even more.  The door opens and Katara takes in the somber set of Aang’s shoulders and her heart falls.

“I’ve decided to help the General with his plan.”

“Aang no,” she pleads.  “This isn’t the right way!  Practice, study, and discipline.  That’s the right way to go about this.” 

“Or,” Sokka says.  “Just glow it up and stop that Fire Lord.”

How can Sokka insist that the answer is that simple?!  He knows what Aang’s been through, he should be pushing for training just as hard as she is!  Katara stands up with righteous anger in her throat but a voice stops her.

“I’m with Katara on this one.”

The room turns to the spirit in shock.  Leo hasn’t moved from his position on his bed, despite the disrespect.  A spirit should have its own dwelling.  “What!” Sokka shouts, “Why?”

“I don’t get a good vibe from this Fong character,” the spirit shrugs.  “Also, did you see the way he tried to guilt Aang with those soldiers?  Screams classic manipulation.”

Sokka narrows his eyes, “He was showing Aang the reality of this war.”

“I think he understands the severity of the war just fine.”

Sokka snorts, mouth opening to probably say something stupid, but Aang steps between them.  “I get what you and Katara are both saying, but I don’t have time to do this the right way.”

“Oh yeah?” Leo hums, “and what happens when you fail?”

Katara sucks in a breath.  To suggest that the Avatar couldn’t restore balance?  Sokka slams a hand against the wall.  “He’s not going to fail!  You didn’t see what he did to the Fire Navy!”

“Yeah, I wasn’t there, but everyone seems to forget one detail.  Aang did that with the help of the ocean spirit.  The entire ocean.  He had some pretty powerful juice behind him, or was all that boasting a lie?”

No one says anything.

“Thought so,” Leo says.  “So can you be one hundred percent certain that an out-of-control Avatar Status will defeat the Fire Lord?”

“Avatar State,” Aang mutters.

Leo rolls his eye, but he pushes himself into a sitting position.  “Whatever.  What if he goes into the Avatar State and can’t hold it?”  The spirit's eyes get sharp, “what if he dies?  Are you willing to start this whole cycle over again?”

Katara stands up. “That's enough.  That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that Katara,” Leo sighs.  “Sokka, you’re supposed to be a warrior.  Does it make sense to send your most valuable asset to the frontlines, untrained I might add, just because he goes berserk for a few minutes?”

Sokka glares at the sheets.  “He could end the war.”

“I believe he can,” Leo says, “by doing it the right way.  If you gamble everything on this Avatar State being your ace in the hole, and it fails , then that’s it.  The Fire Nation wins.  They would know exactly where to find the next Avatar, and I don’t think this world can handle the loss of another element.”  

Katara’s hands move to her throat and Sokka looks at the spirit like it struck him.  Leo might as well have.  He’s talking about the destruction of Water, their people, and their tribe.  She doesn’t want to hear this.  She doesn’t want to listen to this reality of their situation, because the spirit is right.  If Aang fails, then there is nothing stopping the Fire Nation from starting another genocide. 

“Stop it,” Aang says.  His eyes are wet, “why are you doing this?”

Leo gets off the bed and crouches before Aang.  The spirit places a hand on the boy's shoulder, “Because I know what it’s like to fail.  To rush in without a plan and lose everything .”

Aang stares at the spirit with a sniffle and Leo sighs.  “Look, if you’re going to do this, then you should do it because you yourself believe in it wholeheartedly.  Not because some jerk pushes you into it.”  

Katara touches the corners of her eyes.  “He’s right Aang.  This is your decision, not the Generals.  We still have time before the summer ends.”

“Plus, there’s nothing saying we can’t come back,” Leo adds.  “How about we go see this Bumi guy and get his opinion?  Even if you decide to do it this way, then at least Bumi can teach you earthbending on the way back.”

“Yeah,” Aang says.  “Yeah, you’re right!  It’ll only take a few days to get to Bumi.  It’s not like I’m going to master the Avatar State by then.”  Aang surges forward with a gust of wind and wraps himself around the spirit.  “Thanks, Leo.”

The spirits arms hover before wrapping around Aang.  “No problem kid,” he pats Aang on the back and looks to the rest of the room.  “Look, it’s late.  Why don’t you guys get some sleep?  You can talk to Fong in the morning while Sokka and I work on some sword training.”

Sokka groans, “Still?”

“Yes, still,” Leo grins.  “You’re going to be one of the best swordsmen this world has ever seen!”

Katara snorts.  “Yeah right.  That’ll be the day goatpigs fly.”

“Hey!”  

“I gotta say, the animal hybrids have been the coolest part about this adventure,” Leo laughs.  “I mean the bending is nice, but goatpigs!  What does that even look like?”

Katara smiles and lets the tension flow from her form like a river.  They have a plan.  General Fong might not like it, but at least it gives Aang the chance to learn earthbending.  She collapses back on the bed and stares at the stone ceiling.  With any luck, they can get the escort ready tomorrow by lunch, and then they’ll be on their way to Bumi.  She rolls over and pulls the sheets up.  They’ll be back on track in the morning.

In hindsight, the General’s obsession with the Avatar State was clear, but no one could predict the lengths he would go to achieve it.  

Chapter Text

Azula

Azula breaks through the water gasping.  The spirit.  She had foolishly forgotten about it with the idiotic rush of her brother.  She hits the water with a shout.  She misjudged this Michelangelo.  She assumed it to be weaker after their brief meeting.  It had to be to let Zuko get on this ship.  She’s sure he and Uncle had nothing but unsavory things to say about her after she left that night.  Especially Uncle.  She squints but she can’t see anything on the deck.  There’s not a flash of fire or any other soldiers being flung over the railing.  Azula sets her jaw and starts swimming.  She won’t underestimate the spirit again.  It takes her some time to circle the ship and her anger only grows.  How come no one has come for her yet?  Surely they all can’t be this incompetent.  Their forces should be enough to subdue her family and one spirit.

She rounds the bend of the ship and stops.  There are guards strewn across the pier and some are being fished out of the ocean, unconscious.  The water begins to boil around.  What happened?

She reaches the pier and has to pull herself out of the water.  Azula slaps away hands trying to help her to her feet.  It’s too late now.  “Where are they!”

“T-They escaped, Princess,” a soldier answers.

The droplets clinging to her skin turn to steam.  “How?!”  There’s no way they fought off all her guards.  Despite Uncle’s age and senility, she had prepared for the Dragon of the West.  No matter how good he was in his prime, there’s no way he and Zuko fought off an army.  Could that spirit, Michelangelo, make so much of a difference?  It’s possible.  She can still feel the heat and crushing grip of that spiritual chain.

“The spirit, Princess,” the soldier says.  “Donatello.  He allowed their escape.”

What.

For the first time in years, pure shock courses through her entire being.  Donatello.  Donatello betrayed her?  The mask falls against her will for a flicker of a second before rage replaces everything.  He would dare go against the Fire Nation?  Against her?  

It stops now.

She pushes past the guards with fire on her fingers, and marches up the ramp.  They have deferred to this spirit long enough.  This is the reason why the Fire Nation regards spirits as fables and chains.  Their supposed power goes unchallenged because the people are weak to tradition.  No more.  Donatello is here to serve the Fire Nation.  To serve the Fire Lord.  Donatello should fear them, not the other way around.  They do not bend to this creature's whim.

Azula steps fully on the deck and takes a deep breath.  The spirit leans against the opposite edge and doesn’t bow at her presence.  She folds her hands behind her back and steps forward.  That will cease today.  

“Oh,” the spirit says, “hey.  I was just about to fish you out of the water.”

“You let them escape,” she says.  “Do you deny it?”

“No.”

The corner of her mouth pulls.  “Why?”

“After Einstien over there ruined your plan,” Donatello answers.  “There was no way Mikey was going to stay on this ship.  Frankly, I saved you a lot of trouble.”

Michelangelo.  A nickname suggests familiarity.

“You know this other spirit.”  It’s not a question and Donatello doesn’t bother to answer it.  She burns at the disrespect.  “Regardless of your previous relationship,” Azula says, “you answer to the Fire Nation now.  It is your duty to follow my orders,” she lets her face fall to one of disappointment.  The one that strikes fear in men twice her age.  “And you failed.” 

The spirit snorts.  “I don’t answer to anyone, Azula.  I thought we went over this?”

“You answer to the Fire Nation!” she explodes.  “You answer to me!  You do what I say unless you want to face the consequences of your disobedience!  I-." 

“Azula,” Donatello interrupts.  She pauses, taking in his change of posture and tone of voice.  She widens her stance.  “I’m not going to fight with you.  Not because I’m bound by some spiritual rule, but because I would kill you.”  He twists the staff and a familiar purple glow envelops it, but it keeps growing.  She steps back, eyes wide as purple electricity runs up the length of the transformed weapon.  There’s a disconnect when her eyes settle on it.  It has the familiar shape of a hammer, but it curves into something rounded at the ends.

Donatello pivots, swinging the weapon and purple fire erupts from the other end.  Except it's not fire.  Not in the real sense.  There is no heat coming off it, and that’s the most unsettling part of it.  There is no way of knowing if a spiritual fire of this nature would burn.  The weapon flies through the air and connects solidly with the watch tower of the ship.  A piercing ring and horrific ripping sound echo across the water and Azula covers her ears.  The ship rolls from the force, tipping dangerously and knocking everyone onboard off their feet.  Azula falls to her knees and feels for a heartstopping moment that the ship is going to sink.  The metal ship hangs at an angel for a nauseating second before crashing back into the water.  The vessel bobs deeply before settling back into a stable position.  

Azula opens her eyes at the sudden stillness.  She raises her head and gasps.  The watch tower, it’s destroyed.  The top portion was knocked clean off and left jagged pieces of shredded metal in its wake.  She turns back to Donatello in shock.  The spirit rolls his shoulders and the staff recedes to its regular unassuming form.  

“Relax,” he says.  “I picked something that wouldn’t compromise the integrity of this vessel.  If I use my powers, I would one hundred percent beat you in a fight.  My brother could have sunk this ship, heck he could’ve thrown this boat, but he didn’t.”

The spirit steps forward and everyone who’s already on the ground falls to their knees.  “My point is this, Azula.  I am not afraid of you,” he looks up, “I would say ‘I’ll never be afraid of you', but I don’t like speaking in absolutes.”

She stares at the crumpled remains of the tower and lowers her eyes.  Azula blinks at the tremors in her hands.  She curls them into fists.  “The spirit is your brother?”

“Yes.” 

“Why didn’t you leave with Zuko then?” she finally asks.

Donatello sighs and crouches before her.  Azula moves to a sitting position.  She will not be caught on her knees in front of this spirit. 

 “Mikey’s not my only brother,” he answers, “I have three.”

She doesn’t say anything.  Three.  There are four of them in total.  Four turtle spirits running around and possibly disrupting all the effort her family has worked towards for generations.  Donatello should have informed them earlier.  Father surely would have called Zuko home if Donatello revealed his brother chose the forgotten prince.  Why did he keep this information hidden?  Azula straightens, an impossible thought striking her.  “You don’t know where they are,” she accuses.  

“No,” Donatello says, “I don’t.”

“You’re using me,” she says slowly, mind racing.  “To find them.”

“Well,” he hums, “technically your resources.  You have a massive amount of information available to you, and the added benefit of leaving that island if I might add.  Plus, it stands to reason that if this little ruse had succeeded, then Ozai would have put you in charge of finding the Avatar.”

She flinches at the casual use of her Fathers name, but he’s right.  It’s inevitable that the Fire Lord will command her to bring the Avatar in to further prove her birthright.  

“And with this small army you’ve practically been gifted,” Donatello continues.  “I can cover more land.  We’re bound to hear tales of turtle spirits the longer we’re out here.  I’ll run into them eventually.”

“That doesn’t fully explain why you didn’t leave with them,” she says.  “Zuko will hear more local news now that he’s a fugitive.  They might even find your ‘brothers’ before we do.”

“I forget we don’t really know each other,” Donatello sighs.  “Azula, I don’t camp.  I don’t forage, I don’t hike, and I definitely don’t starve,” the spirit lists.  “Mikey and the others might be ok with that, but I’m not.  Besides, you’re hunting Zuko down.  We’ll run into them again..”

She snorts.  “You trust my capabilities that much, do you?”

“I do.” 

Azula pulls back, shocked, but the spirit is already standing up.  He offers her a hand.  Azula stares at the appendage before looking at the spirit.  She waves it off, not touching the spirit directly, and gets up herself.

Donatello rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips.  “Whatever.  What’s your next move?”

Your, not our, she thinks.  Azula nods and faces the rest of the desk.  The soldiers are still cowering with their foreheads pressed hard against the metal and for once Azula can’t fault them.  A show of power like that deserves this level of fear and reverence at least.  “Start preparing the wanted posters.  We’ll distribute them here first while I plan our next move.”

No one moves.  She frowns.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

A lone soldier rises to their feet but keeps their head bowed.  “Yes, Princess.”

Azula watches the woman hurry past the spirit and Azula pulls in a breath.  She needs to meet with her advisors and discuss the next steps.  Uncle and Zuko couldn’t have gotten far, but they’ve had three years to build outside connections.  She wasn’t exactly lying when she told Zuko about treacherous plots against Father.  She’s never once fallen for Uncle’s pitiful act.  He has eyes for the thrown, she's sure of it.  “Go question the workers and visitors,” she says to the deck at large.  “See what you can find about their stay here.  Maybe we’ll learn something useful.” 

The soldiers stand on shaky feet before bowing.   They rush off the ship and Azula turns for the interior.  Her eyes keep going to the splintered tower, but she walks with confidence.  She has a feeling she won’t be staying on this ship for long anyway.

“Check if they have any books on spirits,” Donatello calls after the soldiers.  Azula glances over and catches the spirit fiddling with the bands around his right wrist.  “Preferably on symbols.”

She doesn’t ask because she knows he will not answer her.  She has let herself forget how intelligent this spirit is.  There must be a reason why he informed her now of his brothers when he’s had weeks to do so.  She’d only expected a close relationship with this new spirit clinging to Zuko, not a familial one.  The fact that he told her the truth bothers her.  Well, he didn’t tell her everything.  She doesn’t know what the others can do, and he’s only given her a hint at Michelangelo’s abilities.  Thrown this ship.  The wording is important.

Azula continues for the interior.  Siblings.  How purposeful. 

Aang

Awareness pulls him from sleep slowly.  Aang sits up with a groan, stretches, and thanks the spirits for nice beds.  The North Pole was great, but heat wasn’t something that happened naturally up there.  Aang gives the room one last lazy yawn before standing up, he stumbles to the door and opens it slightly.  The guards don’t move but Aang sees them looking at him from the corner of their eyes.  “Morning,” he smiles, “could one of you let the General know that I need to talk to him?  If he’s up?”

“Of course, Avatar Aang,” the guard on the left offers him a shallow bow, the earth symbol, and leaves down the hallway.  Aang closes the door with a soft thank you and goes to get dressed.  It’d be nice to have this conversation over breakfast.  No one gets mad over a meal.  Aang pulls on his shirt and goes to Sokka’s bed, the boy can’t resist a food either.  He stops when he finds it empty.  Aang peers over to the spirits area and frowns when he doesn’t see shades of green and blue.

“They left already,” Katara yawns.  “Probably off somewhere playing with sticks.”

“Again,” he groans.  “Leo’s supposed to be my spirit.”

Katara sits up with a laugh.  The girl swings her feet over the edge and stretches with a yawn.  She slips a strand of hair behind her ear and Aang looks away, face growing warm.  She looks pretty with her hair down.  She heads for the bathroom and Aang drops back on the bed with a huff.

“Give me a second will you?” she says.  “I’ll come with you to meet the general.”

Aang sags in relief.  “Thanks, Katara.  You don’t think he’ll be too upset do you?”

“Oh, he will,” she snorts, “but let him throw his little temper tantrum.  We’ll just have to leave earlier than expected.”

Aang frowns.  He hopes it’s that easy.  He doesn’t want the general to cut them off because of this change in decision.  What if he decides not to escort them to Omashu?  It wouldn’t be horrible, but it's definitely easier if they had people with experience guiding them.  A door closes and he looks up to see Katara stepping out of the bathroom.  She smiles, “you ready?”

He gets to his feet.  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They leave the room and there’s already an escort waiting for them.  They follow the man from the depths of the stronghold but they veer away from the dining room.  There goes the idea of breakfast.  The escort leads them into the receiving room and General Fong sits behind the elevated desk.

“Avatar Aang,” the man says, “I hear you wish to speak with me?”

“Yes,” he answers.  He pauses but Katara steps up and places a warm hand on his back.  He sends her a smile and sets his shoulders, “I’m sorry General, but I don’t believe we should force the Avatar State.”

The room is quiet.

Fong narrows his eyes.  “I don’t understand.  I thought we left last night on the same page.”

“We did,” Aang answers, “but I talked it over with my friends and I don’t think it’s a good idea to place all our hopes in the Avatar State right now.  We need to do this the right way.”

“The right way,” the man repeats.  “Do tell me what the 'right way' is when more and more soldiers and civilians, innocent civilians, are killed every day by the Fire nation?”

Aang doesn’t break eye contact.  Leo was right, he can’t let himself be pushed around.  “I’m sorry.”

General Fong leans back with a sigh.  “I suppose your little spirit got to you?”

Aang rears back.  “What?”

“I knew I should have separated you from him.  That was my mistake.” 

“Excuse me,” Katara glares, “Leo isn’t a ‘little’ anything.  You should show some respect!”

“Why?” Fong frowns.  “Avatar Aang is more important than the opinion of some unidentifiable turtle spirit.”

“Some turtle spirit!” Katara yells.  “How can you say that!?  Don’t you see what Leonardo represents for our cause alone?  Turtle spirits are the most auspicious and powerful in-.”

“In knowledge,” Fong cuts in, “blessings and protection.  Not war.”

“You don’t even know what Leo can do,” Katara argues.  “He can be a huge help to the war effort.”

“An asset,” Fong agrees, “but not the solution.  The Avatar State is our answer to ending this war.  He is our bridge to the spirit world and has a vested interest in seeing this war brought to an end.  This is the spiritual vessel we need to pour our energy in.”  Fong stands up but doesn’t move from behind his desk.  “I would appreciate any blessing we might receive from Leonardo, but we must forge our own path.  Clinging to signs and tradition keeps small-minded people like yourself stuck in their weakness.  We need to take our victory!  Not rely on some spirit to save us.”

“You sound just like the Fire Nation,” Katara hisses.

All the air leaves the room and Fongs hand tightens to fist against the table.  Aang steps forward, “Look, it doesn’t matter.  The Avatar State only activates when I’m in genuine danger.  We couldn’t force it if we tried.  We need to stick with the original plan and get me to Omashu.”

The man doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at them.  This is going worse than he thought.  To think that the General would disrespect Leo in this way.  Maybe it’s a good thing the spirit never demonstrated his power to the man.  Aang looks at the fuming Katara and sets his jaw.  It’s time to leave.  There’s no use trying to talk to General Fong.  Aang doesn’t like the way the man is speaking anyway.  Like Aang’s not even a person, just a-a weapon for Fong to use as he pleases.  

“Danger,” Fong hums.  “Well, Avatar Aang.  I’m sorry to hear you say that.  Truly.” 

The General’s expression doesn’t change, but his posture shifts.  Aang blinks and the desk is before him in an instant.

He doesn’t have time to bring his arms up.

The impact knocks the breath out of his lungs.  He hears the faint shout of his name, but he can’t focus on it.  The hit pushes him across the entire room.  Aang grunts in pain when his back hits the stone railing, but that doesn’t stop the desk.  He falls out the window with the heavy weight against his chest.  The ground approaches quickly and he twists with a burst of wind.  He lands hard against the stone, but he rolls as soon as he hits.  The crack of stone exploding against stone hits his ears but he ignores it.  He turns with a groan and stares up at the General.

“Men!” General Fong shouts.  “Attack the Avatar.” 

What?  Aang whips around in disbelief as the soldiers approach.  Fong jumps from the window and lands with a powerful shake of the earth.  The ground rumbles beneath him, a wave of stone pushing Aang to his feet, and he turns to face General Fong.  “What are doing?!”

“Trying to get results.”

The soldiers move then, pulling great stones from the ground, and start to attack.  It’s relentless.  They move in such coordination that it takes all of Aang’s concentration not to get squished by the rolling rocks.  The General’s gone crazy!  What if one of these wheels actually kills him?  Is this man really willing to risk the fate of the world on the off chance he activates the Avatar State?

Aang slides through the square hole of the rock with a twist of air.  “You have to stop this!” 

General Fong doesn’t respond.  The man just pivots, stepping in a diagonal and punching a rock into rubble.  Aang pulls a current his way but he’s still blown back by the force.

“Stop!”

Aang hears the shouts of soldiers and looks to see Katara taking out who she can.  She turns her water whip on the general, but the man sweeps a foot out and raises his arms.  Dust lifts from the ground, absorbing her attack, and Fong steps forward and twists his arms.  Katara twists into the ground with a shout.

“Leave her alone!”  Aang jumps and pulls the air to his hands.  He lands hard and pushes the current outward.  General pulls up a barrier of rock and the wind breaks uselessly against it.

“Is this what it will take, Avatar Aang!”  The man curls his fingers and Katara sinks deeper with a scream.

Aang sucks in a breath, “What are you doing?!” 

The man glares, “Getting results.”

Katara falls further into the stone and Aang rushes forward.  He grabs the General’s arm, but he doesn’t know what to do.  He doesn’t know how to stop this man.  The Avatar State.  All he needs to do is go into the Avatar State and then he’ll stop.  He tries to slow his breathing, but he can’t.  

Another twist.  “I don’t see glowing!”

“I’m trying,” He cries.  “Please!  I-I’m trying!”

The General’s face doesn’t change and Katara sinks deeper into the ground with a scream, her chin just inches away from the earth swallowing her.  “Please!”

Aang falls to his knees with a desperate grip on the Generals wrist.  He sucks in a breath and tries.  Tries to tap into the rage and fear that’s activated the Avatar State in the past, but there’s nothing.  Why can’t he do this?  Why does he always fail when people need him the most?  

Tears collect in the corners of his eyes but he doesn’t look away from Katara.  “You don’t have to do this!” 

The General sneers and Aang feels Fong’s wrist flex under his grip.  “Apparently, I-.”

The spirit lands behind Katara without a sound.  A wave of dust rolls across the stone from the silent impact, but Leo stays deep in his crouch.  Aang’s hand falls away from the General’s wrist in shock.  The entire courtyard goes silent at the spirit’s appearance.  Aang can see a few soldiers in the back checking the sky, but there’s nothing there.

The spirit looks up and Aang hears General Fong shift beside him.  Leo twists in a blur of motion, sword unsheathing with a hiss.  The spirit sends it flying across the courtyard in the next breath.   The weapon spins, skimming the ground with a deadly trajectory toward the General.  Fong steps back with a stomp, forcing a barrier of stone between himself and the sword.  The katana doesn’t make contact, instead, it arcs and soars past the General.  Aang and General Fong turn to follow the path of the spinning metal and Aang’s heart crumbles even further.

“Ha!” Fong laughs.  He turns back to Leo, “You missed...”

The spirit’s left hand grips the hilt of his remaining weapon and his right rests gently in Katara’s hair.  Leo’s fingers flex against the handle and his eyes narrow to slits.  Aang blinks.  The spirit’s markings are glowing.

There’s a flash of blue.  A spark of electricity, then Katara and the spirit flicker out of existence.

The General steps forward, shock and something else swallowing his expression, but Aang turns in the opposite direction.  He follows the faint pulse of blue electricity and sucks in a breath when Leo and Katara appear in the place of the spinning sword.  Katara lands hard against the steps, rolling with a grunt, and Sokka is already at her side with her name on his lips.  Leo, however, lands on his feet.  The spirit skids a bit, but his eyes never leave the General.

Leo swipes the air and a circle of familiar blue opens before him.  The spirit charges through it.  Aang turns just in time to see a similar circle of blue open before the General.  Leo comes out swinging.  Pivoting in a violent circle of fury and steel.  General Fong falls back, an arm pulling up rock in desperation, but Leo cuts through it like nothing.  A string of red and green follow Leo like an afterimage.  The spirit swings at the General, forcing the man to stumble back, breaking his base.  Leo pulls the sword through the air, a deadly strike for the man's face, but Fong leans back.  The blade passes over the General leaving air to rise in the air.  Fong falls completely on his back, but he brings his legs up sharply.  A green fist buries in the back of Aang’s shirt and pulls just as the ground starts to lift.  

Leo drags him sharply, jumping away from an angry earth.  Leo stops with a slide and pulls open a portal.  It swallows the next section of rock, and General Fong’s shouts fill the air as his attack is turned on him from above.  The spirit drops Aang then and runs toward the soldiers.  The men fall to their knees immediately, but Leo doesn’t stop.  Aang watches as the spirit rips portals opn under the heavy rocks the soldiers once used to attack him.  They start to disappear one by one.  Aang gets up in time to see General Fong at the ready with a portal opening above him.  The solid earth falls fast and heavy, but Fong breaks it with the punch of a fist.  “Is that all you’ve got, spirit!” the man yells.  “C’mon!”

Aang looks at Leo.  Takes in all the glowing and silent fury radiating from the spirit and shudders.  Leo spins a sword in his hand and slashes it down empty air.

Eight portals open above General Fong.

The boulders begin to drop but Fong is not deterred.  The man breaks the rock as they rain around him, moving in sharp heavy movements that beget the skill and confidence that made him a general in the first place.  Leo bends his knees and starts running.  The spirit circles Fong, opening portals under the debris and redirecting them at the man.  For every boulder the man breaks, twenty smaller pieces take its place in the onslaught.

They’re falling faster now and as the projectiles increase, so does the growing fear on the man's face.  Fong can’t keep up this constant defense forever, and it breaks completely when a rock the size of a helmet strikes the general across the shoulder.  Fong stumbles from the blow and another rock hits him hard in the chest.  It’s over.  The General’s stance broken and there’s not enough time to recover between blows.  A small rock, about the size of Aang’s palm, carves a line of red against Fong’s cheek and Aang looks away.  

No one speaks.  Only the sound of rocks pummeling armor and the General's desperate cries fill the area.

“Stop!” Fong begs, “Please!”

Please.  That’s what he said.  Aang fell to his knees and begged this man to stop, but he wouldn’t.  Someone had to make him stop.  Aang should feel righteous in his fury.  Anyone else would if the tables turned so thoroughly, but he just feels…..hollow.  The general lets out another, pained cry, and Aang finds himself by Leo’s side.  He places a hand on Leo’s arm, “That’s enough.”

The spirit looks at him and Aang tries not to flinch.  The spirit's eyes are sharp and cold like the metal he wields, but Aang can’t back down.  He squeezes Leo’s arm.  The spirit sighs, tension leaving his entire form before swinging both swords.  The angles of the portals change, and the debris lands in a circle around the general.  Fong lies there gasping and shaking before a portal opens above and drops one last rock on the man's head, knocking him out cold.

Leo turns to the courtyard and stops.  Aang follows his gaze and blinks at the kneeling forms of the soldiers.  No wonder no one stepped in to help.  “We’re leaving,” Leo announces.  “I assume no one has a problem with that?”  

“No, Great Spirit,” a trembling voice says.

“Great!”  Leo spins and places a hand on Aang’s shoulder.  “Why don’t you and the others grab your bags?  I’ll wait for you guys here.”

Aang can only nod.  He rotates, moving his arms in a circular motion.  Air moves with the movement and lifts him off the ground.  Aang lands next to the water tribe siblings, but he can’t look at them.  This is all his fault.  If he hadn’t agreed in the first place, if he hadn’t given the man false hope, then maybe-.  A rough hand shakes his shoulder.  He looks up at Sokka, but the boy pulls him into a quick, one-armed hug.  “Let’s get our stuff.”

They walk quickly and quietly through the stronghold.  It feels different now.  The once strong walls are now too thick and seem to contain and repel all sounds all at once.  Not even a single tune of a bird slips through the windows they pass.  He’s never noticed it before.  Even their room feels unwelcoming now, tucked in the very button of the structure with only one exit point.  Like a prison.  Aang shivers and stuffs his things in his bag.  They’re out of that room and back outside in record time.  Leo stands in the same spot, unmoving with both swords resting in his palms.

“You got everything?”

Aang jumps.  The spirit didn’t even turn around, how did he know they were there?  “Yes.  I’ll call Appa.”  He pulls the wooden whistle from his pocket and gives it a blow.  The faint bellow of Appa’s return call has Aang releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

The bison lands with an audible thunk in the courtyard and the saddle is full in a second.  Aang looks over the still kneeling guards and the unconscious general and frowns with sadness growing in his stomach.  This place was supposed to offer him hope.  Give all of them a sense of protection.  It was supposed to be better.  Aang turns away and picks up the reins.  “Yip yip.”  

They’re in the air for what feels like hours before someone speaks.  “Katara,” Leo starts, “are you ok?”

“Wha-yes,” she stammers.  “Of course I am.  The General’s a jerk!”

“Katara.” 

Aang sits up at the tone.  There’s a soft, shaky inhale.  “I-,” her breath hitches, “I thought he was going to-.”  Katara doesn’t continue.  Instead, she wails.  His hands tremble on the reins and his vision starts to blur.  She doesn’t have to say it.  Aang thought the same thing.  A hand on his shoulder makes him jump.  He whips around to find Leo smiling softly.  The spirit balances easily on Appa’s shoulders and moves his hands to pick up the reins.

“We’re just flying straight right?”

Aang can only nod.

“I’ll steer,” Leo says.  The spirit jerks his head to the saddle, “go on.”

Aang stares for a second more before letting the wind lift him easily.  He floats down beside the siblings.  Katara’s collapsed in the embrace of her brother and Sokka looks murderous.  Aang lets his own tears drop and falls into the hug.  They make room as if he belongs there and Aang cries harder.  Aang couldn’t protect her.  He couldn’t protect any of them.  He squeezes the siblings tighter and turns to look at the solid back of the spirit.  Leo didn’t even hesitate back there.  He was violent and harsh in his punishment, but he listened.  He stopped when Aang asked him to.  He saved Katara.  “Thank you, Leo.”

The spirit just lifts a hand and continues to lead them through the sky.  

Iroh

The cave is a sign of good fortune.  Iroh cleans it as best he can, pushing out dust and dirt with a shake of his robe and moving various spiders into deeper corners.  The walls are tall and thick, perfect to keep them insulated and hide any smoke from pursuers.  It’s a good find for newly minted fugitives.  Iroh stacks the last of the wood in the small pit and settles to the ground with a grunt.  He might play it up for his nephew, but you don’t make it to his age without a few things creaking.  

He blows a small string of fire until the wood lights.  The cave immediately fills with warmth and he smiles, good fortune indeed.  The faint sounds of bickering fill the air and Iroh’s smile gets even warmer.  He watches as Zuko breaks the treeline first.  The boy is scowling in drab earth nation browns with a faint fuzz of hair growing on his scalp.  It always surprises Iroh how quickly physical changes can come about.  “I told you I had it!”

“I know you did,” Michelangelo says.  The spirit spills into the small clearing and Iroh’s still in awe at what a few pieces of clothing can do.  He looks just like a human, his shell practically disappearing under the thick lair of the shirt.  Michelangelo shifts the bags to one arm and unwraps the scarf to reveal scaled skin and a grinning face.  “I just added some pizazz!  Oh!  The fire’s already going.  I’ll get started on dinner.”

Michelangelo settles in the corner of the cave and starts prepping the food.  He spins a knife lazily and starts going through the vegetables.  Zuko drops next to him and pulls out a pot.  Iroh blinks.  “How did you afford all this?”

“Ask him,” Zuko grunts.  “He was pulling stunts all over that village!”

“At least I earned it,” Mikey says, ‘“Zuko wanted to steal it.”

“Not all of it!”

Michelangelo drops by the fire and takes the pan from Zuko’s hand.  He starts cooking the vegetables in some sort of sauce, flipping them expertly over the fire.  “I did not know you could cook, Michelangelo.”

The spirit grins, “Oh yeah!  I cook all the time back home.  My brothers wouldn’t know bolognese from spaghetti sauce.”

Iroh nods, “A spirit of many talents!” but he can’t help the furrow of his eyebrows.  He doesn’t recognize most of the words the spirit is using.

“He’s making it up, Uncle,” Zuko hisses.  “Does baloney even sound like a real thing to you?”

“Bolognese.”

“That’s what I said!”

Iroh laughs.  He takes a deep breath when the spirit adds the meat and the smell of fresh spices begin to fill the cave.  “Well whatever it is, it smells delicious.”

The spirit smirks and focuses on cooking.  He pulls out another pot and starts on the rice.  Michelangelo has been helpful in the most unexpected ways.  He looks at his nephew bickering with the spirit and lets the smile grow.  He had hoped that Michelangelo’s appearance would help in his quest to show Zuko the right path, but the spirit is doing more than he ever anticipated.  The spirit brings out a side of his nephew that he thought died a long time ago on an unforgiving stage.  Michelangelo is young, not by human standards of course, but Zuko hasn’t been close to anyone his age in years.  It's nice to see him acting like a young man.

Iroh shakes himself from the thought and finds his attention drawn to the spirit's hands.  The scars are a faint, faded green but the pattern is very specific.  He watches the spirit add another sauce and add meat to the sizzling pan.  “Michelangelo, if I’m not being too forward, could I ask about your hands?”

The spirit raises an eye ridge before twisting his wrist.  “These? I got them when I saved my brother.”  The spirit pulls out three bowls and starts packing them with steaming rice.  He seems relaxed.

Iroh pushes, “That must be quite the tale.”

“Oh, it is,” Michelangelo says.  He drizzles the dripping vegetables and meat over the rice and passes out the meal.  “We were fighting these aliens-monsters-from another dimension.  They were evil, pure evil.  And strong,”  the spirit mixes his food, “really strong.”

Iroh takes a bite of his rice and keeps an eye on the spirit.  Such wars are inconceivable to him, to any mortal he might say.

“How did you beat them?” Zuko asks.

“We didn’t,” Michelangelo answers.  “All four of us weren't enough to defeat the last one.  Our only hope was to trap the Kraang back in the prison dimension, and that’s what Leo did.  He wrapped himself around it, threw himself through the portal, and made us close the door behind him.”

Such sacrifice.  Iroh can already piece out the rest of the story, but not the ending.  There would be no way to open the same door without also opening the door for evil to escape.  “How did you do it?”

The spirit lifts a hand.  The scars glow faintly in the light of the fire.  “I was told that I would be the greatest mystic warrior the world’s ever seen in the future.  With these hands, I would open portals through time.  I couldn’t then, I can’t now if I’m being honest.  I hadn’t even thought to use my powers that way, but I had to try for Leo.”  Michelangelo lowers his hand and swallows another bite of rice.  “That portal nearly took me with it though!  I was falling apart at the seams, literally.  Like pieces of me were breaking away and everything.  That’s where the scars came from, cracks because my body couldn’t handle the power, or at least that’s Draxum’s theory.”

Iroh hums at the unfamiliar name but doesn’t push.  The story, however, was breathtaking in its lesson.  “Not every opponent can be won through brute force alone,” he comments.  He glances at Zuko, “Sometimes a different approach is needed for a favorable outcome.”  

“I’ll say!” Michelangelo laughs, “but it worked out in the end.  It always does.”

They eat in silence for a moment, but Iroh feels compelled to confirm something.  “So,” he starts, “Donatello, he seemed….nice.” 

“How crazy is it that he ended up with your sister,” Michelangelo says.  “I’m just glad that I’m not the only one here.”

“Do you have any idea why he didn’t leave with you?”

The spirit puts down the empty bowl, “Well it’s Donnie.  He doesn’t do well in the woods, or nature in general.”

“That’s why he stayed with Azula?” Zuko scoffs, “because he doesn’t like camping!”

“You’re not doing so well yourself!” Michelangelo retorts.  “You wanted to resort straight to robbery!  We haven’t even been fugitives for that long!”

“I’m a Prince!  I’m not meant for a life on the run,” Zuko defends, “and I wasn’t going to steal all of it!  Just what we needed.”

“You can’t half steal something Zuks.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Ok,” Iroh laughs, “Let's settle down.”  He turns back to the spirit and drops his eyebrows and lowers his tone.  “I am worried about your brother.  Azula isn’t known for her forgiveness or mercy.”

“Don’t worry about Donnie,” Michelangelo waves.  “He can leave anytime he wants to.  Trust me, Donnie knows what he’s doing.”

That’s what Iroh’s afraid of.  Donatello is different from Michelangelo, he could tell when he bowed under that oppressive energy.  Donatello is a spirit that shouldn’t be trifled with.  Iroh just wishes he knew why he chose his niece of all people.  She was already so lost when he returned home and so much like her father.  Iroh doesn’t want to question the ways of a spirit, but he’s concerned about what this could mean for the future.   He needs to get a message out to the order as soon as possible.  They need eyes on her, and Iroh has a hunch about what she’ll do next.  He’ll go into the village tomorrow morning, he decides.  There’s bound to be a Pai Sho piece this close to the ports.  

Iroh settles against the wall and lets the noise of his nephew and the spirit wash over him.  He had not expected to move this soon, but perhaps he should have seen it coming.  The Avatar’s return alone was an indication of great change, but he still does not know why such Great Spirits have stepped into the arena personally.  They typically leave human conflict to the bridge.  To be so heavy-handed is a bit worrying.  Perhaps the Moon spirit was the last straw.  The Fire Nation came so close to destroying the natural order of the world.  It stands to reason they would not allow a repeat of such an incident.

No matter.  The downfall of his brother's reign was set into motion long before the spirits entered the stage.  Ozai’s transgression against his nephew solidified Iroh’s mutiny years ago.  A warmth covers him and Iroh opens his eyes.  He doesn’t remember closing them.  He shifts and a blanket falls off his shoulders.  Iroh rubs the material between his fingers with a smile.  He looks to see Zuko turning his back to him, but the spirit is grinning.  Iroh pulls the blanket up and closes his eyes again.  There is such natural good in nephew.  He’ll be a great Fire Lord someday.  

Iroh keeps his promise and heads into town the next morning.  He ambles through the early morning shoppers, buying nick knacks until he finds what he’s looking for.  There’s a small woman and child selling wares near the very ends of the road, and set up in the corner of their stall is a Pai Sho table.  He walks over and lets his eyes track the pieces on the board.  There have been many developments since he last communicated through the game.  The most disturbing being in Omashu, but he’s not too worried.  Bumi may be eccentric, but Iroh trusts that he knows what he’s doing.  Iroh narrows his eyes at the corner pieces.  A message for Grand Masters.

Iroh moves six pieces on the board without a word.  The woman taps the child and the little girl takes off down the street.  Iroh bows to the stall owner and follows after the child.  It doesn’t take long for the little girl to stop before a hidden storage hut and Iroh gives her a gold coin for her trouble.  The child takes off and the stone lowers to the ground.  Iroh steps in without a sound.

He leaves the hut the same way he entered, deep in thought.  This could change everything, but he must find the location of the last to be certain.  Iroh walks back to the village, his mind racing at the implications of Grandmaster Paku’s message.

Chapter Text

Toph

Things are different after the Rumble.  Freer.  Raph makes good on his promise and sits in the front row of all her matches.  He claims he’s made merch, that he painted a white shirt to record her unbeaten record and Toph can only take his word for it.  She knows he’s telling the truth though.  She can tell by the steadiness of his heartbeat and the wetness still clinging to the shirt, but it’s fun to mess with him.  He even offers to spar with her now.  Toph was hesitant at first.  You don’t hear many stories of people fighting with spirits and walking away from it, but Tophs no chicken.  

Fighting with Raph is like nothing she’s ever experienced.  He’s all light steps and heavy vibrations then suddenly there’s a change.  Toph caught him in the unforgiving grip of the stone the first time he used his powers.  He was Raph but more.  His steady vibrations turned into a humming void to her senses.  Like feeling a building that’s on fire.  It was only when he moved that she felt… anything.   The humming threw her off and she couldn’t get a sense of where he actually was.  It was disorientating, frustrating, and humbling at the same time.  He’d beaten her only because she couldn’t see him.

He tried to explain it to her afterward.  He even expanded an arm so she could feel it.  She could feel him through the ground and he felt the same.  Toph could even feel his real arm if she followed the vibrations from the ground all the way up, but she couldn't feel the expanded part.  When her fingers came into contact with the enhanced appendage it was frightening and warm.  She'd let her hands the spiritual power and it felt so solid.  Everything was telling her that her feet should feel it.  The conflicting messages from her hands and feet made her dizzy.

So she threw up.

Raph didn’t find it as funny as she did, the squirmer, but she demanded that he enhance his foot after she wiped her mouth.  The foot was less of an issue.  She could feel the hum of it against the ground like the spar, but she couldn’t tell where the real limb started.

“Alright, Ponytail!” she said, “We’re going to train until I can figure this trick out!”

“It’s not a Ponytail.”

She ignored the spirit and kicked a boulder straight for his head.  They fought for hours and only when Toph was sore and knocked on her back did she hear it.  The steady breathing of the spirit was located somewhere above her.  She laughed and punched a hole into the ground.  She can’t get around this fuzzy projection with her earth sense alone, she realized.  She’ll have to hear him and figure out where he’s positioned in the air.  

She grinned at the challenge.

They spar every other night after that.  She’s getting better, but it’s hard.  Toph loses once Raph uses his spirit powers, but it’s taking her less and less time to pinpoint where his main body is in the air.  He cheats, changing size once she finally starts throwing rocks at his body, but she doesn’t care.  She hasn’t been tested like this in a while.  She feels pushed to the very limit of not only her earthbending, but also her senses.  She’s had a few opponents that try to use her blindness against her.  They too stay in the air as long as possible, but their screaming always gives them away.  She won’t be lucky every time, and Raph has given her a chance to focus on her ears.  

She’s going to be unstoppable.  

They practice at night and she’s left to her own devices during the day.  Which is starting to happen more and more often.  Raph has started to go into town in the mornings and returns just before dusk, but he's starting to return later each night.  She frowns and pulls the string for her maids.  She knows what he’s doing, can feel it in her bones that he’s looking for his brothers, but she can’t bring herself to ask.  The maids come in with a bow and she requests that they dress her.  She’s still sore from the spar the night before, but she doesn’t plan to sit in her room all day. 

Walking’s the only thing she can do by herself around here anyway. 

She’s kicking rocks in the courtyard when she feels it.  The shift and pulling of rock that speaks to her only the way earthbending can, and there’s a lot of it.  She follows the steady movements until she’s close enough to listen.  She stops in the middle and doesn’t bother to hide.  There isn’t a point.  She’s snooped on tons of people this way.  Toph will stand where she’s visible but just out of earshot and the people she’s spying on tend to ignore her.  It’s a mistake she continues to take advantage of.

She feels the earthbenders staggered down the length of the Manor wall.  They work in smooth practiced motions, pulling out the bottom of the stone, filling it, dragging it closed, and sealing the contents into the very base of the stone wall.  They work as one and in sections, steadily making their way down the Manor wall.

Leaving empty barrels in their wake.

Toph wiggles her toes to be sure and frowns.  A growing pit of…something settling deep in her stomach.  She walks towards the Manor entrance and has to remember to act pitifully.  Toph stops when she gets close and walks slowly to the massive double doors.  She veers to the left of them.  Toph lets her hand settle against the stone wall.  The top is pure and familiar stone, but she moves a toe to brush against the seam where the stone meets the ground.  She feels the hum of salt packed tightly into the wall and she sucks in a breath.  They’re lining the wall, but why?  She would have heard by now if there was some type of spirit attack going on outside this stupid town.  What are her parents so desperately trying to keep out?

Or desperately trying to keep in?  

Toph pushes away from the wall, and from the very thought.  It’s not possible.  Her parents would never.  They wouldn’t dare.  She listens to the vibrations running down the length of the wall and turns away from it.  They’re just worried about the appearance of more spirits.  That’s all.  It doesn’t mean anything else.  Toph pushes down the worry and heads for her room.  She cuts through the training area but stops.  She feels around before stomping a huge crack into the earth.  Toph pivots and punches a rock into nothing before sinking to the ground.  She pulls her legs up, not caring about the dirt on her dress, and wraps her arms around her legs.  Toph doesn’t even know why she’s so upset.   

The ground vibrates beneath her and Toph rolls further into her legs.  Great.  This is the last person she wanted to feel.

“Toph?”

She doesn’t answer but that doesn’t deter the spirit.  He sinks down next to her and Toph turns her head.  He coughs, “Everything ok?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ok,” he says, “it’s just… the ground doesn’t look ok.  I thought you were trying to avoid-.”

“I can fix it!”

Toph feels his arms move up in a defensive position.  “I know, I was just asking.” 

“Well don’t.”

She can feel his heart spike in irritation.  Good.  Maybe he’ll leave then.

Of course, he doesn’t.  The spirit just sits there and Toph feels the weird feeling and anger drain from her stomach.  She stretches her legs out and places her hands on the ground.  “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Toph opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.  She buries her fingers into the dirt, and sets her jaw, she doesn’t run away from anything.  “Why haven’t you left yet?”

“What?”

“Your brothers,” she pushes.  “Why haven’t you left to go find them?”

His heart beats.  “I-.”

“Mistress!  There you are!”

Toph jumps at the sound.  She wiggles her foot and feels Sun walking into the courtyard.  She didn’t even feel the woman coming, so focused on Raph’s answer.  She turns in forced confusion, “Sun?”

“Yes, Mistress,” the maid stops a few feet away but doesn’t come any closer.  Toph fights the urge to roll her eyes.  Toph pushes to her feet and holds out an expectant hand.  Sun hesitates before walking forward on shaky legs.  The maid bows deep at the waist to Raph, “I-I’m sorry to interrupt you, Great Spirit,” Sun falls to her knees and lowers her head to the dirt.  Sun holds out her right hand, palm up and Toph feels the maid ball her left hand into a fist and place it against her palm.  “Please forgive me.” 

Toph lets her hand fall in shock.  What is Sun doing?  Raph gets to his feet but doesn’t say anything.  He feels just as shocked as she is.  The silence drags and Sun begins to tremble.  Toph pivots and sinks a fist hard into Raph’s covered thigh.  The spirit flinches and Toph motions to Sun.  He can’t leave her like this!  

“Ow! I-I mean,” He coughs and deepens his voice.  “It’s ok, really.  You can get to your feet.”

Sun gets up without a word and Toph extends a hand once again.  Sun walks up quickly, “Thank you, Great Spirit,” she guides Toph away and her shaking becomes less severe.  Toph feels her eyebrows pull together.  Sun was always wary of the spirit but never this afraid.  What happened? 

“Where are we going?”

“Oh,” Sun says, “Your parents want to speak with you.”

“About?”

Sun lowers her voice, “There’s troubling news coming from the colonies.”

“Troubling?”

“I can’t say too much, Mistress,” Sun says, “but your parents are worried.”

Toph holds back a snort.  When aren’t they worried?  It is odd that they've decided to tell her about it.  They typically make changes without giving her time to adjust.  A seed of worry begins to sprout at this sudden change in routine and she tries to ignore it.  It doesn’t mean anything.  She’s heard the rumors of the Avatar's return.  It’s all anyone would talk about for the longest time in The Rumbles.  Maybe that’s what they’re worried about.  Even she knows his return can mean the escalation of the war.

In the end, Toph never hears Raph’s answer.  She doesn’t look for him either, instead, she holes up in her room after speaking with her parents.  There are rumors alright.  Rumors of Fire Nation royalty on Earth Kingdom lands and encroaching past established boundaries.  Whispers of a dark creature in the shadow of the Princess.  “It doesn’t mean anything,” she mutters.  It could be anything traveling with the Fire Nation Princess.  She needs to confirm what it is first, then she’ll tell Raph.  She sinks deeper into the covers.  She’s not hiding anything, she’s just being careful.  She’ll ask around at the next Rumble and go from there.  If the creature with the Princess is a turtle, then she’ll tell Raph.  She closes her eyes and tries to get comes sleep, “I’m just making sure,” she whispers. 

Toph wonders, if her feet or fingers were pressed against stone, would she feel her own heart skip a beat at the lie?

Azula

The journey to Ty Lee’s little pastime is uneventful.  Azula didn’t expect much from savages, but this is a letdown.  There’s nothing but rock and crumbling villages in this ‘Kingdom’, and even that is boring.  Azula sighs and turns away from the window and grimaces at the sight that greets her.  The spirit lays stretched out across the opposite seats with his shell facing the open window, its shape twisted into something unsightly.  “Do you have to do that in here?” She scowls.  “There is a deck on this vehicle.”

Donatello opens one eye before closing it with a yawn.  “Sure, and get dust and dirt in the circuitry?  It’s already torture enough to charge everything this way.  I’m this close to just building a lightning rod, and a satalite.  I don’t know how long I can live like this.”

She rolls her eyes.  She should have never asked.  He’s always monologuing to the Sages about ‘computers’ and ‘phones’.  The things those fools will put up with.  

“How much longer?”

Her jaw ticks.  “Another day and a half.”

The spirit groans and rolls off the seats, his shell collapsing in a way that makes her skin crawl.  “How haven’t you guys invented planes yet!?  Aren’t you in the middle of a war?  That’s supposed to be the prime time for military development.”

“I assure you,” she says.  “We are much more advanced than the rest of the world.”

“One hundred years,” he mutters, “and you haven’t even made it to the biplane.”

“Are you going to do something other than complain?” she glares.  “This trip is boring enough as it is.”

The spirit just continues to grumble before sitting up.  “I know,” his shell peels open, and places a small box in his hands.  “How about a game of chess.”

Azula can only stare.  He can’t be serious.  “You can’t be serious?  I may not know much about spirits, but I know enough to never play a game with one.”  He’s never questioned her intelligence before, so why now?

He slumps.  “Right.  Spirits and deals.  Look, I promise there’s no catch and there’s no trick.  I’m not asking you to wager anything, just a simple game.”

She studies him hard.  She shouldn’t trust him.  You never know the true intention of a spirit.  Azula takes in his posture and hopeful expression.  She shifts to face him fully.  “What is chess?”

He smiles.  A true, honest smile.  Azula turns her attention to the small board he places on the table between them.  “It’s a game of strategy and war in my world.”

She takes in the board and pieces the spirit is laying out and raises an eyebrow in disbelief.  “War?”

“That’s the running theory,” he says, “It’s mainly a strategy game.”  The spirit lays out the rest of the pieces and starts going over the rules.  She’s intrigued despite herself.  It reminds her vaguely of Pai Sho.

“-and this,” Donatello says, “is the queen.  Now she’s the most powerful piece on the board.”

“Stronger than the king?”

“By far,” he says.  “The king can only move one space in any direction.  The queen, however,” he picks the piece up, “can move up-,” he drags the piece, “-down, and diagonally across the board.”

She scans the layout, letting the rules fall into place, “and the goal is to capture the king?”

“Put it in check,” he corrects, “which means the king is just in a position where no matter where it moves, it will be captured.” 

She hums and sits up.  “Well, there’s no use in going over the rules a second time.  Let’s play.”

He flips the board around so the white pieces are set before him and the black pieces are hers.  “We’ll play without a timer for the first few games.  Are you sure you don’t want me to go over strategy?”

“No,” she answers, “I want to feel it out first.”

The spirit grins and moves a white pawn two spaces into the center.  Azula moves her own and the game officially starts.  It’s hard.  Every piece moves differently and it’s not something she anticipated throwing her off so easily.  She finds herself pinned in places with no viable moves to push an advantage and even catches her own blunders moments after the spirit takes her piece. 

She loses in ten moves.

Azula takes in the board and tries to understand where the defeat stemmed from.  “Again.”

Donatello resets the boards and Azula loses the next round in twelve moves and the third one in thirteen.  The fourth game offers her clarity.  She watches his first few moves closely and the game reveals a bit of strategy.  “The center,” she says, “you’re controlling the center.” 

“Good observation.” 

“Again.”

They play like this for hours, but it feels like minutes.  She learns slowly to develop a center, protect her pieces, and the importance of opening a file.  She gets better, lasts longer, and by the time dinner is set quietly beside them she learns the importance of connecting her rooks.  The game feels more like a battle the longer she plays.  Azula finds herself naturally leaning to protect her left flank and callously sacrificing pawns for better positions.  The pawn is amazing to force a move and there are so many of them to be used.

She doesn’t win a single game.

“You’re a lot better than I thought you’d be.” 

Azula looks up briefly and focuses back on the ivory army laid out before her.  They’d switched colors somewhere around hour three and she finds herself fairing better on as the offense.  Although the spirit has a clever way of turning the game around in the middle.  She finds herself defending more often than not the longer material is exchanged.  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

He slides his bishop down one space and Azula curses.  How did she not see that?  She moves her rook to save her king but she can already see that the attempt is futile.  She will lose this game in less than 5 moves, but who is she to surrender when there are still moves she can make?  Donatello has her pinned with a shift of a pawn.  She can only exchange material as a response.  “It is,” he says, “A compliment by the way.  You have a great eye for anticipating your opponent by multiple moves.  Your openings aren’t bad either.”  He advances a knight, “check.”

Azula flips her king and leans back with a sigh.  What an interesting game of war these spirits have created.  Even the pieces resemble two opposing armies.  It’s so different from Pai Sho.  That could be why she enjoys it so much.  “Do you play this with your brothers?”

Donatello resets the pieces.  “With one, mostly.  Leo.” 

She raises an eyebrow, “Is that a nickname?”

“Yes,” he says.  “Leonardo if you want to be anal about it.  He’s very good.”

“How many times have you beaten him?”

“Never.”

Azula straightens, “What?”

“I’ve never beaten Leonardo at chess,” the spirit answers.  “Chess is a game of strategy, and that’s all Leo knows.”

“But you're the genius,” she says, “or was all that boasting theatre?”

“Don’t patronize me,” he says.  “I could break this little…car into pieces and build you a better more efficient model in a few days.  That doesn’t mean I know how to properly command an army.  You don’t know the ends and out of this machine, but you know how people work.  You’re like Leo in that sense, but more vindictive.”  

“Now that’s high praise,” she smiles.  “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.” 

“You’re welcome,” he sets down the last piece and grabs the plate left by the servants.  “Maybe one day you’ll say something nice about me.”

Azula crosses her legs, leans back, and takes the spirit in with an appraising look.  They couldn’t do much about the bandana, the spirit was insistent on wearing that garish purple cloth, but they managed to convince him into a decent pair of black pants.  They’re breathable like all Fire Nation apparel and sinch elegantly into movable, black armored boots.  Donatello already looked otherwordly in his unfamiliar garb and language, but the Fire Nation style cuts a deadly image.  “I don’t know why you insist on the purple, but it’s less of an eyesore with the outfit.”

He blinks and Azula moves in her seat, “That was me saying something nice.”

The spirit sets his plate down, throws his head back, and laughs.  “That’s something nice?!”

“You should be grateful I said anything at all!”

“No, it's great,” he chuckles, “I love a backhanded compliment.  Eat your dinner and I’ll explain some basic chess strategy.”

Mechanical arms unfold from Donatello’s back and the spirit starts going over the various opening and responses.  Each piece moved delicately by the extra appendages.  Azula picks up her plate and keeps her eyes on the board  The information unfolds before her and she slowly starts to see the traps she foolishly fell into on some of their earlier games.  She listens and provides her own ideas on scenarios Donatello lays out before her.  They even play through a few openings and she feels better acquainted with making tactical decisions.  They end up playing five more games before separating for sleep.  Azula still doesn’t win one, but it’s…fun.  

She doesn’t know how she feels about it.

Azula lets the servants prepare her for bed and she doesn’t comment on their sloppiness.  Her mind is too preoccupied with other thoughts.  Azula has never considered developing a relationship with the spirit.  His purpose on this mission was clear, to show the colonies that the Royal Family's cause is doing good despite the consequences of war.  How could they not when a spirit supports a Royal Heir so publicly?  She has done well to keep a respectable distance from the creature and her natural disdain for his nature made it easy.  These last few weeks however have been complicated.  Have made their relationship complicated.

The maids finish with a bow and Azula waves them off.  Things can’t continue like this.  Especially with Mai and Ty Lee joining soon.  She needs to re-establish some sort of order before it gets out of her control.  Azula extinguishes the flames with a swing of an arm and lays in the ensuing darkness.  Fear won't work on this creature, so she needs to think of something else, find a hole in his defenses.  Azula flips over and closes her eyes.  She'll wait for an opening.

Everyone slips up eventually  

They pull up to Ty Lee’s current fixation and Azula’s nose curls up in disgust.  She knew of the girl's love for gymnastics, but she assumed Ty Lee would show it in…nobler pursuits.  No matter, they won’t be here for long.  The servants will be packing the girl's bags and they’ll be off for Omashu before lunch.  She steps off the vehicle and makes her way through the ill-managed tents.

“A circus,” the spirit hums, “This is unexpected.”

“Hardly,” she says.  “Ty Lee has always found ways to show off her acrobatics.”

“You say that like I should know her,” he comments.  “Oh!  Is that a…bear platypus?”

“Platypusbear.” 

“Fascinating,” He grins.  “I have to get DNA samples of these animals.  How exactly did these hybrids come to be?  Draxum would love this.” 

She cuts her eyes at the unfamiliar name but files it away for later.  Azula sees a hint of pink flipping through the air and she smiles.  It’s been a long time since she’s seen any of her friends.  She approaches the girl and Ty Lee’s enthusiasm threatens to swallow her whole.  Azula pulls away from the hug and presents the acrobat with her offer, and Ty Lee's face falls.  Azula watches the girl summon the courage the reject the request.  It’s unexpected, Ty Lee has never said no to Azula’s request in the past.  

Ty Lee peers over her shoulder before pulling Azula in close.  “Is that the spirit?  I didn’t think the rumors were true!”

Azula nods and the girl cartwheels to Donatello with a squeal.  She rolls smoothly to her feet and bows at the waist with her hands in the fire symbol.  “It’s nice to meet you, Spirit!  I’m Ty Lee, one of Azula’s best friends!”

Donatello sends her a look over Ty Lee’s bowed form.  Azula feels her face warm.  “Azula’s best friend huh?” he smirks, “I didn’t know she had one of those.  I’m Donatello.”

Ty Lee unbends, “Dona- Downa?  Wow!  That’s hard to say.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, “You can call me Donnie.”

“Donnie,” the girl smiles.  “You have a strange aura!  Probably because you’re a spirit!”

He raises an eyebrow.  “Probably.”

Ty Lee turns back to Azula.  “I’m sorry you came all this way.”

“It’s fine,” she says.  “I wouldn’t want you to give up what you love to make me happy.”

Ty Lee’s face breaks into a grin and she surges forward, wrapping Azula in another hug.  “Thanks, Azula.”

Azula pats the girl on the back.  “Of course, we’ll have to see your show before leaving.”

The girl shakes in her arms and Azula smirks.  She came prepared for the off chance Ty Lee forgot her place.  It’s shame that they have to do this the hard way.  Ty Lee leaves to prepare, trembling, and Azula heads for the main tent.  The spirit falls into step beside her.  “A nickname?” she asks, “You’ve never offered me that courtesy.”

He shrugs, “What can I say, she reminds me of my brother.”

“Which one?”

“You’ve met him.”

“Michelangelo?” Azula thinks back to her brief encounter with the spirit.  His energy was definitely bright.  The complete opposite of Donatello.  “He was…energetic.”

The spirit's face falls into something soft.  “Yeah.  Mikey’s always positive until he’s not,” he chuckles a bit, “Dr. Delicate Touch can be a bit abrasive.” 

She hadn’t considered until now how different in personality these siblings could be.  Are the rest more like Michelangelo or is the orange spirit an outlier?  A thought sparks.  Is Donatello the outlier?  It would make sense.  She’s sure she would have heard of other spirits in Fire Nation territory by now, so why is Donatello the only one of his siblings here?  The thought simmers in the back of her mind throughout Ty Lee’s entire act.  In the end, it doesn’t take much to push the girl in the direction Azula wants.  A couple of flames is all it takes to right Ty Lee’s place by her side, but Azula refuses to give the girl a chance to change her mind.  

They leave mere hours after Ty Lee’s performance.  

Azula settles against the chair and waits for the servants to serve them dinner.  She sits at the head of the table and Donatello occupies the seat across from her.  He’s engaged in a spirited conversation with Ty Lee, spinning some story of his younger brother dressing up like a giant vegetable to scare a monstrous animal.  It sounds far-fetched to her, but who can comment on the past time of spirits?  However, this is the most lively she’s seen the spirit.  He actually has a decent sense of humor, and even goes as far as to make a few jokes at Azula's expense.  Ty Lee doesn’t dare to laugh, but it puts their changing relationship at the forefront of her mind.

The servants enter the room and set the meals before them.  They bow and Azula sends them away with a flick of her wrist.  “So,” Ty Lee says around a mouth full of steamed vegetables.  “Where are your brothers?”

“He doesn’t know,” Azula answers.  “That’s part of the reason why he’s here.”

“Oh,” Ty Lee says.  “I would love to meet Mikey!  He sounds like a lot of fun.”

Azula remembers unyielding chains and cuts harder into her steak.  “You just missed him.  He’s chosen my foolish brother.”

“Zuko!?”

“One in the same.”

“Ooohh,” Ty Lee grins, “Mei’s going to be so happy to see her boyfriend!  Wait, if you found one why aren't you with him now?”

Donatello opens his mouth but Azula cuts in.  “He doesn’t camp, Ty Lee.  One of the many differences between him and his siblings.”

Tension fills the air in a second.  Azula keeps her expression smooth and Donatello looks up, “What does that mean?”

Her lip twitches.  “It’s just that you’re presence here is very telling.”

His silverware stops.  “Enlighten me.”

“Come now, Donnie,” she mocks.  “I’d be an imbecile not to notice how the rest of the world views the Fire Nation.  We aren’t exactly the heroes in their little savage tales.” 

“You’re point?” 

Azula brings a piece of meat to her lips.  “You are the only one of your brothers to land in the Fire Nation, in the very heart of it even.  I’m sure your metal spies scoured the whole island before you determined that you were the only one here.”

Donatello frowns.  “Mikey’s with your brother.”

“Is that the best you can do?”  Azula smirks, “Zuzu’s always been known for his soft heart.  Anyone can attest to that.  It’s what got him his scar in the first place.”  Her mouth twitches at the memory but she doesn’t let the expression fall.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if the other two aren’t off galavanting with rebels and enemy armies.  Fighting the ‘good fight’ and attempting to reestablish balance.” 

Azula picks up the napkin and taps the corner of her mouth.  Ty Lee hasn’t said anything since dinner took such a sudden turn, but the smaller girl is shaking.  Good.  That’s how it should be.  Azula turns back to the spirit and lets her face fall into something mimicking sympathy.  “It must be hard for you.  To see the difference in character between you and your brothers so clearly.”  She waits, waits for the metal to tremble in his grip, and then she’ll know she’s won.  Azula might not beat him in strength, but there are other ways to subdue an opponent.

The spirit snorts.

Azula doesn’t move, but her entire body tenses.

“I have to admit,” Donatello says.  “You’re really good at pissing people off.”

She takes in his relaxed posture and scowls.  “You don’t look the part.”

“Oh, I am,” he says.  “I mean, you’re sitting here insinuating that I’m some evil emotionless spirit.  That my nature doesn’t match my brothers.  Like I don’t fit in.” 

Hmm.  She didn't insinuate all of that.  She files the adjectives away for later.

“But,” the spirit continues.  “That says more about you than me.  You know what Ozai is doing is wrong, but you think-,” his hands wave at the space between them, “-this is all you are because this is all Ozai wanted you to be.  It doesn’t help that your mother never loved you either.”

Ty Lee sucks in a breath and Azula scratches a fingernail deep into the wood.  “You don’t know anything about my parents.”

“And you don’t know anything about my brothers,” he shoots back.  Azula blinks, she really did get to him.  “So let's not poke around things we don’t want to talk about, ok?  Besides, I think I’m a little more secure in my place in my family than you are.”

Azula narrows her eyes.  “You think my position isn’t secure?”

The spirit turns back to his food.  “You tell me?  You haven’t been named heir apparent have you?”

“I’m not the first born.” 

“Neither was Ozai,”  Donatello looks up.  “Though his circumstances were a bit…unusual.”

 The room heats up to something sweltering with her next breath.  How dare he!  To insinuate such treason in such an unsecured room?  There could be a number of ears listening.  She glares at the spirit and he meets her eyes with the same amount of venom.  

“Truce?”  He asks, but he never yields.  Truce.  Azula studies him.  She’s never known peace.  Not with friends or family.  She conquers and subdues.  It’s the only thing she knows.  She takes in the set of his shoulders and the curve of his mouth.  His tongue is just as sharp as hers, and he’s not afraid to go for the jugular either.

She lowers the temperature and picks up her silverware.  “Truce.”

The tension leaves the room and they go back to eating, all but Ty Lee.  The girl is pale and shaking, but she’s looking at Azula, confusion and something else fighting for a place on the acrobat's expression.  Azula ignores it and finishes her dinner.  It didn’t go the way she hoped, but it makes Azula feel better that she can get to him.  That there’s some soft tissue for her to sink her teeth into.

Donatello finishes the last of his meal and stands up.  “Wanna play a game before we call it a night?”

She lowers her utensils in shock.  “Of course.”  

The game is brutal.  The spirit plays with such aggression that she loses in under ten moves.  He doesn’t ask if she wants to play again, just resets the board and flips the white pieces in her direction.  She plays hard, immediately going on the offensive and opening a hole in his right flank.  It doesn’t stay open for long, and Donatello runs her in circles so thoroughly in the middle game that the end is anti-climatic.  

He’s still angry, she realizes, and this thought makes her own hackles rise.  Azula plays violently in the last game, avoiding most of his traps and even tricking him into some of her own.  She doesn’t win, but it’s the longest game she’s ever played against the spirit.  Donatello stares at the board as she flips her own king in defeat.  He looks at her before settling a hand between them.  “Good game.” 

The gesture surprises her.  His hand hovers over the vicious battlefield and this feels real.  Realer than the empty words offered over a heated table.

She takes it.  

Sokka

The sight of Omashu covered in grey and Fire Nation reds was like a punch to the gut.  The war had always seemed so far off in their corner of the world after that first devastating attack.  But to travel and see the enemy in both the North Pole and now Omashu, this untouchable city in the mountains?  The Fire Nation feels everywhere now.  Like a monster or a void.  It's starting to feel impossible to take anything back from this beast.  They’ll have to turn around.

“No,” Aang says.  “I’m going in for Bumi.”

It’s moments like this that remind Sokka how incredibly young Aang is.  There’s no talking the kid out of it.  It doesn’t matter that the man might be dead, Aang has to go in and see for himself.  Sokka resigns himself to the idea and prepares for the incredibly, dangerous and stupid idea to enter a Fire nation stronghold.  

Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be dangerous.  He turns to the spirit with hope in his eyes.  “Leo can get us in!”

The spirit lifts an eye ridge, “Leo can do what now?”

“Can’t you just-,” Sokka waves, “-portal us into Omashu?”

“No, I can’t just ‘portal us in’,” Leo says.  “You guys keep forgetting that I’m not from this dimension.  Who knows what would happen if I portal to a place I haven’t seen?  I don’t have any.....earthly connection to this world!”

Aang frowns, “Earthly-?”

“But what about the North Pole!” Sokka interrupts, “You teleported out of the council room!”  

“I portalled over one hundred feet above where I landed, Sokka,” Leo answers, “I was banking on the fact that the building wouldn’t go past twenty stories.  Portalling up usually isn’t that big of a deal.  What if I portal us into that city and we end up in a wall?  Or in the middle of some war meeting?  We can’t risk it!” 

Sokka throws up his hands with a groan, “What’s the point of spirit magic if we can’t even use it!?”

“Well excuse me,” Leo hisses, “that my incredibly cool magic swords can’t magic you into an overrun enemy city with MAGIC!”

“Enough!” Katara shouts, “This is getting us nowhere.  Is there any way we can get into Omashu without being seen?”

Aang jumps up, “Wait!  I know a way in!”

Appa lowers them into the deep trench surrounding the city.  Sokka takes in the pipe leading into the city and feels a small bubble of frustration.  “Why didn’t we use this last time!”

Aang answers the question with a grunt and a quick pull of the grate.  Filthy water flows from the tube and Sokka has to pinch his nose at the putrid smell.  Right, why else would they have a pipe all the way down here?

“Does that answer your question?’

“Ok,” Leo says, “this is gross, even for me.”

They start the climb up the steep sewer tunnel and Sokka can’t help but agree.  This is disgusting, and the worst part is he’s getting the brunt of the sewage.  Leo tries to help, the spirit is pushing a portal in front of the both of them that swallows most of the sewage and spits it out behind them, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t getting pelted in the face with gross water.  Katara and Aang are definitely flinging it around more than necessary. 

Katara maneuvers a large section of the water and Sokka just barely moves out of the way.  He leans closer to the spirit and Leo flinches.  “Katara!  You’re doing that on purpose!”

“Gosh, don’t be such a baby.”

“Hey guy,” Leo says, “don’t get too close to me, ok.  I just took a bath.”

“We’re all going to need new baths!”  

Sokka breathes easier once Aang finally reaches a manhole cover.  They’ve been in that stupid pipe all afternoon!  Sokka pulls himself out of the ground with a groan and goes to wipe some of the gunk off his neck.  He shrieks when his hand comes into contact with something squishy and moving.  He pulls at it, but the thing latches tightly against his skin.  Aang slams into him and puts a finger against his mouth.

“Will you quiet down?" Aang hisses.  “It’s just a purple pentapus.”  

“Just a pentapus he says,” Leo says.  “It was in the sewers!”

“They’re harmless,” Aang moves and tickles the head of one hanging around his neck.  The pentapus releases his skin with a squeak.  “See?”

Sokka scowls and scratches the one sitting on his jaw, “Yeah, well I don’t like them.”

“Hey!” 

Sokka’s blood runs cold at the sound and sight of the soldiers.  He looks at Leo, but the spirit is already climbing up the walls and disappearing soundlessly into the shadows.  Sokka doesn’t even have time to react to the unsettling speed and quietness of the spirit.  Luck is on their side when the soldiers believe they’re just breaking curfew instead of breaking in, and thanks to Katara’s quick thinking, the men run off completely once she mentions Pentapox.  Sokka really plays it up, groaning and fumbling toward them, but it works.  

Leo lands beside them in a hush.  “Quick thinking Katara!” 

She blushes at the compliment.  “What he said,” Sokka adds.  “Now let's find Bumi and get out of here.”

Wait,” Leo pulls out a sword and spins the handle to face Sokka.  He doesn’t take it, just stares at it blankly before Leo shoves the sword against his chest with a sigh.  “Here.”

“What are you giving this to me for?”

“In case we get separated,” Leo answers.  “I can’t exactly walk next to you guys right now.  If we separate, just wait ten minutes then set it on the floor and I’ll pull myself to it.  Wait, you know how long ten minutes is right?”

“Really,” Katara frowns.  “We know how to tell time!”

“How am I supposed to know that!” he says.  “You don’t have watches.  What do you use?  The stars?”

Katara stomps her foot.  “Ugh, how can you be so annoying!” 

“Shhhh!” Aang hisses, “We don’t have time for this.”

“He’s right,” Leo says.  “I’ll stick to the shadows and the roofs if I have to.”  He turns to Sokka, “Remember, ten minutes.”  Leo melts into the darkness again and Sokka shivers.  

“Let’s go.”

They stick close to the walls and head for the palace.  Sokka’s not exactly sure how they’re going to get in, but if they’re keeping Bumi anywhere, then it’s gotta be here.  They’re sneaking up the side of the overbearing castle when Aang blows their cover.  Sokka turns the corner at a dead sprint and tries not to curse out a twelve-year-old.  He knows Aang is a pacifist, but there are some things he should just let happen.  Like letting a boulder crush stupid Fire Nation soldiers.  Sokka turns, ready to throw boomerang at the girl chasing them, and possibly shout for Leo when the floor opens up beneath them.

They don’t fall far, but the unexpectedness of it is enough to pull a scream out of all of them.  Sokka lifts his head and sighs in relief at the sight of earth kingdom soldiers.  Although they don’t look happy to see them.  

“The Avatar?”  One says, “You’ve come back for us.” 

“What happened back there?” Another demands, “We had them and you stopped it!”

Aang gets to his feet with a puff of air.  “You did that on purpose?  You could have killed them!”

The man scowls, “That was the point.  That was the Governor's family!”

“You wanted to kill a family!?”

“Alright,” Sokka intervenes, “Let’s move away from sliding floors and searching soldiers before we continue this conversation shall we?”

The man huffs, but turns and waves for them to follow.  Sokka takes a step but there’s a crackle of heat at his back before a heavy weight crushes him to the floor.  The tunnel erupts into panic movement.  The soldiers jump away in shock and immediately start to pull the earth into offensive positions.

“WAIT!” Katara shouts, “It’s a spirit!  He’s with us!!”

The men stop but they stay in the ready position.  Leo rolls off Sokka’s back and stands to the inhales of the soldiers around them.  “Before anyone falls to their knees,” Leo says, “don’t do it.  Please.”  

The soldiers look around in confusion before lowering their guard.  Earth moves back into the wall and ground and Sokka drops his head in relief.  At least that's one fight they don't have to worry about.  The men don’t sink to the floor, but they all bow at the waist and offer the earth sign.  Sokka gets to his feet with a groan.  For a spirit that moves so silently, he sure is heavy.

“What happened?” Leo asks.  “You were supposed to put the sword on the ground.”

“You said ten minutes!”  

“It’s been ten minutes!”

“No it hasn’t,” Katara huffs.  “It’s barely been five!  And you were worried about us telling time.”

“I can tell time just fine!” Leo squawks, “I counted the sixty seconds!”

Sokka throws his hands up and turns away from the turtle.  “Please lead us away from here, before people start looking.”

The soldiers hesitate before leading the way.  It doesn’t take long for the winding tunnel to open to a well-lit and stocked cave.  There are many Earthbenders moving around the open space.  Loading supplies and tending to the injured, but they all stop once they enter.  Sokka shifts under the attention.  

“So,” Aang starts, “is King Bumi with you?  Is he leading the resistance?”

The room falls into a furious hush.

“King Bumi abandoned us,” the man scowls.  “We stood there, ready to fight their army with everything we had.  I turned to the King and asked him what he wanted to do and he said nothing.  He was going to do nothing.”  The man begins to shake.  “He surrendered without a fight!  He gave up on Omashu, but we aren’t giving up on it.  Fighting the Fire Nation is the only path to freedom.”  The man looks up, his eyes latching onto the spirit.  “Wait, your spirit.  He can help reclaim the city!”

Sokka feels his mouth pull into a tight line at the soldier's expression.  He doesn’t like it.  Leo narrows his eyes but doesn’t respond, instead, he turns all his attention to Aang.  Aang steps back a bit at the spirit's gaze, but he doesn’t break eye contact.  The kid sets his shoulders and faces the soldiers, “No,” he says.  “There’s another path to freedom.  You can leave Omashu.  You’re outnumbered.  You can’t win this fight, even with the help of a spirit.  This is the time to retreat and regroup to live and fight another day.”

“You don’t understand!  They’ve taken our homes.  Our only option is to fight them!”

Another steps forward.  “The Avatar is right, Yalo.  It’s time to retreat and regroup.”

The cave rumbles in agreement but Yalo stands firm.  Sokka feels his shoulders draw up and his fingers twitch for his club.  If this man doesn’t back off, then he’ll make him back off.  He's done letting adults think they can just walk all over them.

Yalo deflates in a puff of air.  “Fine, but there are thousands of citizens in this city.  How are we going to get them all out.”

Aang looks at Leo but the spirit is already shaking his head.  “I don’t think using a portal is a good idea here.  The army will notice the disappearance of so many people.  They’re most likely to send people after you if we do that.  There’s got to be another way.”

He’s right, plus Sokka doesn’t want the Fire Nation to know what Leo can do unless it’s unavoidable.  He scratches absently at his neck and freezes when an idea hits.  “Suckers!”

The group turns to him with raised eyebrows but Leo's face slowly pulls into a grin.  “You’re all about to come down with a nasty case of Pentapox.”

It takes the rest of the night to gather all the pentapuses they’ll need.  Earthbenders go and pull them from the sewers while the rest of them soak them in water.  They start with the resistance first, letting the animals sit on their skin for a few minutes at a time before they pass it to the next.  Once half the room is done, they start sneaking into the streets above.  It’s going to take hours to ‘infect’ everyone, but they need to get this done as quickly as possible. 

Sokka’s sorting through the pentapuses when Leo squats next to him.  The spirit hooks a finger in his scarf and gives him a wink.  “Gotta admit.  This is a pretty clever plan.”

Sokka grins in response but he can’t take his eyes off the spirit.  It's weird how normal Leo looks in earth kingdom greens and browns.  He doesn’t even look like a spirit.  The large dark green scarf and hood do a lot to cover his reptilian face and the brown and green chaofu works wonders on hiding his shell.  Even his hands are wrapped in brown bandages to hide their true color, and his feet sit comfortably in brown earthbending shoes.  Leo’s going to stay near the front in case they do need to rely on his portals, so he needs to blend in as best as possible.  

Sokka’s hoping it doesn’t come down to that.

“Thanks,” he says.  “Let’s hope it’s crazy enough to work.”

“Trust me, the craziest ideas work because no one ever thinks of it,” Leo grins.  “You’ve got great ideas.”

Sokka feels his face heat and he turns back to his task.  “You can praise me later once we’re out of Omashu.  Can you help get the citizens ready?”

“Ey ey, Captain,” Leo gives him a little salute before popping to his feet.  Sokka watches him go before picking up his own bucket of pentapuses.  They don’t have any time to waste.  It takes them all night and the better part of the morning to get all the citizens looking the part.  After that, it's just an unsteady walk toward the gates and a faint hope that the soldiers let them out.

Sokka holds his breath through the entire ruse.  The soldiers don’t stop them, a few even abandon their posts and Sokka fights to keep his composure.  He can’t believe it’s working.  He can’t believe it’s working!  Leo maintains his own stumble near the front, but his hands remain close to his hidden swords.  Sokka feels his heart actually stop once he steps past the gates.  It worked.  This crazy, made-up disease plan actually worked!  Sokka doesn’t break character until they’re in the depths of a far-off ravine.  Everyone else had dropped their arms once they entered the canyon, but Sokka can’t, not until they are truly a good distance away.  Only once dusk starts to fall and the call for camp goes out does he lower his arms.  

Aang jumps on his back with a loud laugh.“I can’t believe that worked!”

Sokka wants to reprimand Aang, but he’s grinning just as wildly.  He can’t believe they fell for it!  Even he thought it was one of his crazier ideas.  It doesn’t matter now.  The people are free, that’s what matters.  He throws an arm out and loops a laughing Katara into the hug.  They did it.  They took something back from the Fire Nation.  The resistance can regroup and fight for their city now.  The win is dizzying.

“Ugh,” Leo says, “Hey gang?”

Sokka turns, still grinning, but his face falls into one of confusion.  He can’t comprehend what he’s looking at.  The spirit holds a toddler loosely in his grip.  The baby is dripped in Fire Nation reds.

“Whose baby is this?”

Chapter Text

Zuko

Life on the road is even worse than he expected.  Zuko knew about the living conditions of the rest of the world.  He’s been taught of their dilapidated conditions by his teachers.  He’s even seen some of it on his quest for the Avatar.  Always in passing, never up close.  So it’s something different to experience the sheer poverty of how the other nations live.  He’s never been so hungry .  It’s a miserable and constant beast.  He goes to bed and wakes up with it growling in the pit of his bones.  He sees it pulling at the faces of the kids they pass.  He can tell by the sharpness of their cheeks and the gauntness around their eyes.  This is why the Fire Nation is trying so hard to help them.  The world would be so much better if they would just stop fighting and let the Fire Nation in.  It solidifies everything his teachers and father have ever said about the war.  

Except.  

He sees the scars.  How can he not when they pass so many refugees with red marks and charred skin?  Civilians, not soldiers.  It’s why they’re able to blend in so easily.  Nobody looks twice at his marred face or Mikey’s covered body.  Everyone just… assumes the Fire Nation hurt them, and it makes him burn at the presumption.  Mikey looks so young covered in earth kingdoms browns.  How could anyone think the Fire Nation would hurt kids?!

Except.

He sees the kids that filter from town to town with them.  Sees the burns on them just as much as the adults. It’s sickening, he thinks.  It’s war, a general would say.  A mounting pressure builds with each mark he sees.

They’ve settled on the outskirts of Yilon, a small town that’s doing better than most because of their position in wealthier settlements, and head into town to start their humiliating routine.  It means that the people here are more generous than most, and it also means there’s a great number of refugees.  The competition is stiff for even a single coin in towns like this, but one thing always remains the same.  The wealthy never give.  

He hates them for it.

Even now Mikey performs as always so they can eat.  The spirit’s an amazing acrobat and it reminds him painfully of a girl in pink and a life left behind.  Mikey brings in a good amount of money that no begging will ever come close to, but it’s a double-edged sword.  They’ve been stopped by other refugees countless times.  Groups and individuals with jealousy in their eyes and sharp metal in their hands.  They might be limited in their element, but they are not defenseless.  The robberies always end the same.  Broken people trying to sate the same beast curling in their bellies, but there’s nothing he can do.  Nothing anyone can do.  He leaves a coin or two sometimes.  When the anger at their situation gets too much, he has to think about Mikey and Uncle first.    

They held off the last robbery attempt just last night, and here they are the next morning begging for more.  Mikey starts on his usual routine, all loud voice and happy disposition, and it brings the people in.  Once a sizable crowd surrounds them, Mikey starts on the acrobatics.  He always starts simple before building to more complex movements.  The crowd gasps at the display of athleticism and Zuko can’t bring himself to watch the entire thing.  He’s already seen it a hundred times.   

He hears a spectator comment about the state of Mikey’s hands, her voice laced with detached sympathy, and Zuko shakes at the tone.  He’s never been so angry.   Mikey however keeps performing, he rolls into a perfect handstand before pushing off the ground with a twist.  Zuko watches as the turtle gains height that’s a touch unbelievable and somehow twists in mid-air.   The disguised turtle lands perfectly on his feet to the hushed crowd before sweeping his arms out wide and bending in a deep bow.  Zuko shakes and looks away.  A spirit.  A Great spirit, bowing to commoners and the like.  It’s disgraceful.  Dishonorable.  

Necessary.

The crowd erupts in applause and shocked murmurs before dissipating.  A few drop a measly coin or two into Uncle’s outstretched hat, but it’s not enough.  It’s never enough.  They’ll go and buy some overpriced bread and water from an overly-rich vendor and go to sleep in a drafty cave.  Their hunger will echo off the walls and claw desperately at their stomachs, but there’s nothing they can do to fully sate it.  The beast runs rampant in the rural parts of the Earth Kingdom.  No one is spared.

It’s no better than the raft.

The crown thins to just one or two people and Mikey bounces toward Zuko.  He can’t see the spirit’s mouth, but he can tell by the crinkle in the turtle's eyes that he’s smiling.  “Did you see that!” Mikey says.  “That might’ve been some of my best work.”

“I agree,” Uncle laughs.  “We’ve gotten more coins this go around than before.”

Zuko peaks into the hat and feels his mouth pull into a tight line.  Yeah, just enough for an extra loaf.  They can’t keep living like this.  

A man laughs, loud and cruel, and Zuko glances at him with a scowl.  The man is rich, that much is obvious by the state of his clothes and the cleanliness of his face.  Zuko tightens his fist and fights the urge to look the man in the eye.  There’s always one in these towns.  Greedy, cruel, and incredibly tight with their coin.  “How’d you do that?”

“Just a little bit of my signature razzmatazz,” Mikey grins.  He holds out a hand, “would you like to donate?”

The man’s lip curls at the sight.  “No thanks.”

Zuko feels heat at his fingertips at the blatant disrespect.  Mikey however, just shrugs and turns his back to the man.  The man’s face falls and Zuko huffs a mean laugh before turning to Uncle.  He dips the money from Uncles hat into a ragged coin purse  

“What?” the man mocks.  “Did the Fire Nation take your manners along with your fingers?”

“C’mon guys,” Mikey says.  “Let’s go get something to eat.  I’m starving!”

“Hey!” the man shouts and his hand lands heavily on Mikey’s shoulder.  “I’m talking to you-.”

The man’s on his knees with a cry on his lips in the next second.  Zuko steps back, he’s always surprised at how fast the spirit moves.  “Typically,” Mikey sings, “I’m a peaceful tur-person.  But you see,” a tiny crack takes the man’s breath away, “I’m a little hungry, like really hungry, and you’re getting in the way of our meal.”

Another crack.  The man whimpers.

“Now,” Mikey says, “You wouldn’t sneak off without contributing to such a great show!  I mean,” his tone drops, “there’s only so much I can do with these deficiencies.”  

The man pulls out a trembling bag and tips the coins into the dirt at Mikey’s feet.

“Great!” Mikey shouts.  He lets the arm go and the man doesn’t wait before taking off down the road.  Mikey looks up with a grin.  “Looks like tonight's menu includes meat, baby!”

Zuko follows the running man with his eyes, taking in the crest on his back.  He won’t get out of this encounter this easily.  

They eat better that night than they have in weeks.  The money Mikey stole buys them rice and meat, and for the first time in a long time, the beast in his gut lowers its head, content.  Mikey cooked for them, like always, creating food that tingles across his tongue in both parts familiarity and mystery.  He’s preparing the meat now, seasoning and marinating it so Zuko can start the jerky process.  Uncle breathes a soft prayer of thanks and Mikey waves it off with a blush.

It’s here, in the shadow of darkness and anonymity that he can fully disrobe.  It shouldn’t be this way, but it is.  Zuko keeps a constant temperature on the meat and fights the need to explode.  He’ll get his status back if it’s the last thing he does.  Night sneaks on them slowly and Zuko listens absently to one of Mikey’s unbelievable tales.  He’s talking about a woman now, an ancestor that used her soul to lock away a great evil.  Zuko’s not sure if any of these stories are real, but his tales all run in the same vein of sacrifice.  It’s…sad.

Mikey’s waving his arms wildly when Zuko sees it.  A faint color peaking against the green of Mikey’s wrist.  “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Zuko shoots out a hand and wraps his fingers tightly against Mikey’s wrist.  He’s learned to handle Mikey with a sense of finality.  The spirit has an annoying habit of turning everything into a game if he hesitates.  Zuko pulls at Mikey's wrist and nudges at the black wrapping to reveal a curious symbol.  It’s small and full of twisting circles and straight lines.  He squints, it looks vaguely familiar, like a mash-up of all the elements.  

Mikey leans over and sticks his tongue out with a hum.  “The top looks orange…Wait!  I’ve seen this before.  In Draxum’s library.”

Zuko looks up at the familiar name.  “Library?”

“Yeah!” Mikey grins.  “He’s got a ton of stuff he probably shouldn’t.”  Mikey pulls his wrist closer.  “Yeah, this was on the scroll he didn’t want us looking at.”

“And you looked at it anyway?”

“Well it’s Draxum,” Mikey says.  “He tells us not to do something then that means we have to check it out.  Especially Leo.  He loves to annoy Barry.”

Zuko grits his teeth.  “Who’s Barry?  I thought we were talking about Draxum!”

“Baron Draxum,” Mikey answers.  “He’s basically like our dad.  He created us!”

The fire dies and Zuko blinks at the sudden darkness.  He releases Mikey’s wrist on instinct and turns to Uncle.  He looks calm, but his face is pale and his hands shake around the chipped mug.  

“Iroh?”

Uncle startles and releases a shaky laugh.  “Sorry boys.”  He spits a string of fire and the cave lights up in warm red heat.  “But I am curious, Michelangelo.  What do you mean he created you?”

Mikey falls back on his hands.  “Gosh!  I haven’t told this story in forever,” he hums.  “Let’s see.  Draxum is a yokai.  Closer to what you call a spirit than what we are.”

Yokai.  Zuko rolls the syllables around his tongue but he can’t make sense of it.  Again it feels familiar, like all the foreign speech that falls from Mikey’s lips, but it means nothing to him.

“He used to hate humans,” the spirit continues.  “He had this whole crazy idea to create an army to reclaim the surface.”

Zuko listens, but he doesn’t understand.  Can’t comprehend something like this.  He’s heard of malicious spirits.  The story of Ko reaches all corners of the globe, but this?  A coordinated attack on the human plane seems…unthinkable.  “And you?”

“We were his first experiments,” Mikey nods.  “He kidnapped our dad, an amazing fighter I might add, and after some mixing, splicing, and mutating he created us!”

“I assume Draxum is dead.”  

Zuko flinches at the coldness in Uncle's voice, but Zuko holds his breath for Mikey’s answer.

“No, he’s a good guy now!  All he needed was some family love!”

“Wait,” Zuko says.  “You said he wanted to destroy the world!”

“He did,” Mikey says.  “And my brothers and I fought him to stop that from happening.  Heck, he even threw Leo off a roof!  But he’s family, and he deserved a second chance.”

Zuko leans back with a frown.  A second chance.  The spirits gave this malicious figure a second chance, even after it hurt them.  It makes a certain amount of sense, he reasons.  He was their father.  

A tight grip lands on his shoulder.  “Maybe you should elaborate,” Uncle pushes.  “How did he change his nature?  Did he see the error in his ways?”

“Not really,” Mikey answers.  “We fought him for a long time!  He got pretty close to winning too, but he didn’t know his partners were using him.  They drained him of all his mystic powers until he was nothing but a shell.  I found him after that and decided to nurse him back to health.” 

“So his failure changed him,” Uncle insists.  “Only after he lost everything in his mad pursuit against the world, did he truly open himself to change.”

“We change him,” Mikey corrects.  “I reached out to him at his lowest.  The rest of my family was really against it, but I had to try.  We wouldn’t be here without him.”

Zuko nods but Uncle coughs, “I’m…happy it worked out for you, Michelangelo.  But that’s not the case for everyone.”  The hand on his shoulders tightens, “Somethings are unforgivable.”

Mai

Her days have switched from mind-numbingly boring, to mildly interesting and now unusually tense in the span of twenty-four hours.  She knew it was a bad idea to take this promotion.  Omashu is so isolated and far away from regular civilization that if anything were to happen, then they would be by themselves.  She’s heard the stories of what Earthbenders do to captured Fire Nation soldiers.  There aren’t any benders in her family, and she’s the only one who took the opportunity to learn how to defend herself.  Mai thinks back to her mother's cries and her father's terror making him send such a foolish message to the rebels.  She doesn’t think the rebels will hurt a toddler, but you never know.  She can’t think about it now, however.  She’s waiting to receive Azula.  Why of all times did the Princess choose now to visit?

The soldiers walk the palanquin up the stairs and Mai shifts back into her role.  She bows just enough at her waist and begs Azula to put her out of her misery.  Azula smiles.  They don’t fall into a hug, Azula would never leave herself open to that, but Ty Lee is unexpected.  Mai glances at Azula and turns back to the forlorn expression on Ty Lee’s face.  Of course, Azula called louder.

Mai opens her mouth, ready to deliver a predictable line about leaving this place, but another palanquin comes up the steps and it halts the words in her throat.  A green hand pushes past the curtains and Mai can only watch as a creature bathed in dark colors exits the palanquin.  It stretches, spins a staff lazily, and walks towards their group.  Half of its face is covered in dark purple cloth and the rest of its face is uncovered.  Its chest is bare but covered in a sort of platted armor that looks too organic to be fake.  Its pants hang loosely in black Fire Nation fabric before sinching into dark army boots that stop just under his knees.  The spirit gets closer and Mai notices that his feet don’t make a sound despite the metal on the material. 

“Oh, Mai!” Ty Lee grins.  “You haven’t met Donnie yet!”

Mai raises an eyebrow and tries to get back on script.  “Donnie?”

“Donatello,” The spirit says, “but I’m ok with Donnie.  Who are you?”

“This is Mai!” Ty Lee says, she throws an arm over both their shoulders.  “We’re all best friends!”

The spirit takes her in before smirking at Azula.  “Another one?  I think I’ll have a heart attack if there’s a third.”

Mai pulls in a breath but Azula rolls her eyes.  “Hilarious.  Mai, I’ve come with a mission that I need you both for.”

“Count me in,” she drones, but she keeps an eye on the spirit.  “But something has happened.”

Azula hums and starts walking into the castle.  “Enlighten me.”

Mai runs through the story with an air of boredom, like she’s talking about someone else’s little brother.  She waits for the expected sneer at her father’s decision to release the citizens and doesn’t try to defend him.  It wouldn’t do her any good.  

“Why in the world would he start with King Bumi?”  Azula says.  “I knew your father was a fool, but I thought he at least knew how to negotiate.” 

Her fingers twitch.  “Same.”

“It’s his son, Azula,” Ty Lee says.  “He panicked.” 

“When is the exchange?” Azula asks.  

“This afternoon,” Mai answers, “in front of the statue.” 

“I can get your brother back.”

Everyone stops.  Mai turns to the spirit in shock, but she’s only met with a raised eyebrow and a bored expression.  She looks at Azula and the girl is already looking at it with a frown.  “You will help?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Why?”

“I have a soft spot for little brothers,” the spirit says.  “I’ll help get the kid back, but I’m not catching any rebels.”

Azula narrows her eyes.  “Why not?  You’ve already offered your assistance.”

“I think we've both established that you’re on the wrong side of this war,” the spirit answers.  The entire room draws in a breath.  To speak such treason out in the open?  “I’ll help with one, but I’m not catching all of them.  You shouldn’t need help with that anyway.”

Azula stares the spirit down before pivoting for the throne room.  “I’ll inform your parents.  Mai, you’ll accompany us to the meeting.”  With that, Azula disappears into the room, leaving Mai and Ty Lee in the hallway.  

Mai shoots the spirit a questioning look before bowing.  “Thank You.”

“Don’t worry about it,” it says.  “We’ve got a few hours to kill.  I’m going to look at those slides.”  The spirit walks out and no one dares to stop it.  Mai has never seen someone move so freely outside of the royal family.  She doesn't know what to make of it.

Ty Lee lands hard against her side.  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers.  “I don’t know what to do when they fight like that.”

“It fights with her?”

The girl nods.  “All the time.  It freaks me out.”

Mai takes in the retreating back of the spirit.  She’s never seen anyone talk to Azula like that.  It’s almost like-.  “It’s not scared of her,” she whispers.  “Why is it here?”

Ty Lee looks around.  “He’s looking for his brothers,” she leans in close, “one is traveling with Zuko.”

Her breath catches at the name.  Zuko.  She hasn’t seen him since.  She squashes the thought.  He’s alive, that’s all that matters, and traveling with a spirit no less.

Ty Lee squeezes her arm before separating.  Mai wonders how Azula feels about it.  About all of this.  This undoubtedly will change the Prince's position, if not the entire dynamic.  The Princess walks out of the room a few minutes later and takes in the stiff soldiers.  “Where is Donatello?” 

Ty Lee raises a hand.  “He said he wanted to look at the slides!  I can’t blame him.  They look fun.”

Azula sighs, “Go find him, please.  The soldiers are preparing the King now.  We need to discuss our strategy.” 

Ty Lee bows and cartwheels out of the room.  Azula lifts a hand and the rest of the room files out as well.  Azula leaves the room and walks to the adjacent balcony and open air.  Mai stares, she doesn’t know if she should follow.  She desperately wants to see her parents and talk to them about what the Princess said, but she can’t show any favoritism.  Not now.

She walks forward.  

Mai takes her place beside Azula and stares at the empty city below.  She wonders what this city was like before they got here.  Certainly not all dark greys and steam, that’s for sure.  She glances at Azula, but the girl stays quiet.  Azula’s almost pensive, and it’s moments like this that remind her how young Azula is.

She takes a risk.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

Azula looks at her and Mai fights to keep her face in a bored mask.  Any interest or reaction will push Azula back behind her defenses.

The Princess turns and Mai follows her gaze to the construction.  They’re building a statue in the Fire Lords' image.  Mai wonders if he’ll ever bother to come see it.  “I don’t know what he wants from me.” 

Mai doesn’t react.  That’s a first.  Azula always knows what people want.  Well, Donatello’s not exactly people though is he?  “Ty Lee said he’s looking for his brothers?”

“A task he can do without me,” Azula says.  “He could fly off on those metal wings of his and have a town of earth savages worshiping him in under a week.  He could make them find his brothers, but he’s chosen to stay here.  Comfort simply can’t be the only reason.”

Mai hums and folds her hands in her sleeves.  It feels that simple to her.  Worship takes a lot of effort.  She’s tired just thinking about it.  Having Azula escort him across the country while he listens out for word on his family seems like an easy choice.  

“Maybe he doesn’t want anything.”

Azula sneers.  “Everyone wants something from me.”

Mai doesn’t want anything from her, despite what Azula believes.  Neither does Ty Lee, but it’s hard to convince a person in Azula’s position that they’re in this ‘friendship’ for nothing.  All Azula knows is war.  Mai knows better than to voice the thought.  “But he’s not everyone,” Mai points out.  “He’s a spirit.  Your title, our nation, this world means nothing to him.  There’s literally nothing you can offer Donatello that he can’t get himself.”

The Princess goes rigid.  Mai fights to keep her expression flat even as her fingers tremble in her sleeves.  She misspoke.  

“Nothing I can offer him?” Azula says.  “I have nothing to offer?”  The Princess turns to her, but Mai keeps her eyes on the desolate buildings below.  Mai sometimes forgets who Azula is, and her own position in this game of friendship they play.  Mai wishes Azula would let it be real.  “Tell me, Mai.  Your family lives like royalty here.  Was this position nothing?”

Mai swallows.

“Or how about now?” Azula’s voice lands like the tip of a blade against her skin.  “I am offering a valuable resource to get your brother back.  I should rescind it since I have nothing to ‘offer’?”

She breaks.  “Azula.”

The air is thick and hot, and Azula blows away the heat with a slow breath.  “Forget it,” Azula says.  “I’m just angry.  I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Mai blinks but doesn’t comment.  That was… almost an apology.  That’s rare.

A faint laugh reaches her ears.  Mai squints and feels her jaw drop at the sight.  Donatello flies in the distance with Ty Lee hanging off his staff.  The girl is grinning widely and waving.  Mai tries not to worry about how high up she is.

“Don’t worry,” Donnie shouts, “I won’t let her fall.”

Azula lets her head drop with a laugh.  A real one.  There’s no mocking or derision in the tone.  Just pure clear laughter.  Mai feels the corner of her mouth lift.  The spirit has taken her off script.  Taken them all off script.  It might not be a nightmare like she’s expecting.

Aang

“You know this is a trap, right?”

Aang closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath.  Sokka’s been saying the same thing all morning.  It’s not helping.  Aang doesn’t think it’s a trap.  Katara doesn’t think it’s a trap.  Leo’s….on the fence, but he’s being very supportive.  Unlike Sokka.

“We get it ok!”

Sokka raises his hands.  “Alright, I’m just saying.  You don’t need to bite my head off, Katara.”

Katara pulls the baby away from the edge of the saddle with a huff.  “What exactly is the plan though?”

“We meet the governor.  He gives us Bumi, and we give him the baby.”

The soft sound of the wind is the only noise that answers him.

“Aannndd?”  Sokka pushes.  

Leo lands softly on Appa's head.  “And,” he says, “I’ll be hiding nearby.  Just shout my name and I’ll be there to portal us away.”  

“Exactly,” Aang beams.  

Leo gives him a wink and jumps back into the saddle with the others.  Aang grins at the site.  He wishes the others were that comfortable moving around Appa.  The bison would never let them fall.  “I’ll stay in ninja mode the whole time,” the spirit continues, “but we should have a backup just in case.”

“Gotcha covered,” Sokka says. “I’ll blow the whistle if we need a way out.”

“That’s my guy!” Leo grins.  

Aang looks at the growing points of Omaushu on the horizon and sets his jaw.  They’re arriving early enough to drop back into the city, hopefully without detection.  He adjusts the wrapping on his head and pulls hard at the ends.  He can't let them know that he's the Avatar.  Bumi will be the least of their issues if that little secret is discovered.

“Look alive gang,” Leo says.  Aang turns to see the spirit pull the green scarf over his mouth.  “In and out.  The longer we’re here the more likely we are to get caught.”

Aang nods and steers Appa to the western side of the city.  They dismount quickly and Aang sends the bison away with a pat.  They move silently, or as silently as they can with a babbling baby, but the streets are empty.  There aren’t any guards or soldiers patrolling like they were yesterday.  Aang scans the buildings, but there's no hint of Fire Nation red.

Sokka matches his stride and keeps his voice low.  “I don’t like it.”

“Me neither,” Katara whispers.

Aang doesn’t like it either, but he has to try.  For Bumi.  “Look,” he points.  “That’s the exchange point.  We’re going to be fine.”

“I’ll hide beneath it.  I’ll have my eyes on you the whole time.”  Aang doesn’t even jump at Leo’s voice.  The spirit gives them a two-fingered salute and disappears into the rooftops.

“Wish he’d teach me how to do that,” Sokka mutters.

They get to the base of the scaffolding and start the long climb to the top.  Aang doesn’t dare use any bending.  They might not have seen any soldiers, but they could be hiding anywhere.  He’ll only use it if he’s forced to.  Aang reaches the top first and offers a hand to Katara and they both pull Sokka up with a careful grunt.  Aang checks the position of the sun and rolls his shoulders.  This is it.  It’s almost noon.  

Soft clicks against the wooden planks have them all stiffening in anticipation.  The forms of three girls walking in tandem become clearer the close they get and Aang stiffens at the sight.  They look young, but so did Zuko.  Aang waits for the rest of the party to become visible, but it’s just them.  No Governor or Bumi.  They can't be backing out of their word now!  That’s when he hears it.  The clinking of metal and the unmistakable laugh of an old friend.

Aang watches as the metal cage lowers to the ground with a soft thud behind the three girls.  Aang breathes a little easier at the actual sight of Bumi.  He’s ok.  They didn’t kill him.

“You brought my brother?”

“He’s here,” Aang says.  “We’re ready to trade.”

In hindsight, Sokka is starting to be right more often than not about these things.  The smaller girl with sharp features and a familiar face takes control of the entire interaction.  Like it's her right.  The tone shifts immediately when she starts speaking and Aang knows at that moment it’s a trap.  The chains start to reverse on Bumi and Aang runs.  He can’t lose him to the Fire Nation.  They’ve taken so much, they can’t take him too.  

A sheet of blue flame erupts from the girl's hands and Aang jumps.  Jumps higher than necessary, but he doesn’t care.  He pivots off a metal beam and opens his glider wide and feels the wrapping fall from his head like a final flag of surrender.  it's over.  Any anonymity is lost at the display of arrows and powers, but it's not important.  Bumi is.

Aang ignores it and the gasps it pulls from the people below and lands hard against the metal cage.

“Aang,” Bumi laughs.  “Is that you?”

“Don’t worry Bumi, I’m going to get you out of here!”

There’s a sound below him.  A sort of shifting and screeching of metal before a hard wrap of metal engulfs his ankle.  Aang slides with a yelp at the sudden tug and barely manages to grab the chain to stop his fall.  Aang looks and feels his heart pound at the sight of glowing metal on his leg.  He follows the length of the chain and feels his breath catch at the creature on the other end. 

“LEO!” Aang shouts, “HELP!”

The spirit appears in a burst of blue energy and slides a blade through the chain like it’s nothing.  Their momentum flips and suddenly they’re falling.  Leo pulls the opposite blade through the air and a circle of blue opens just beneath their falling forms.  

The purple steel around his leg releases, “Leo?!?”

The spirit turns at the sound just as they pass through the rim of the portal.  They land hard against the mail shoots.  Aang pushes a gust of wind to get them moving.  They did it!  They saved Bumi!  He turns and grins at the spirit but Leo has his eyes on the scaffolding.  “I have to go back!”

“What!  Why?”

Leo turns and Aang stops at the expression.  It’s frantic.  “I think that was Donnie!”

Aang opens his mouth but a crash stops him.  A wave of fire licks a line of heat against his back.  Aang turns and spins the fire away from them but the encounter leaves his knuckles red.  “Leo, please.”  

The spirit keeps his eyes on the scaffolding and Aang can just make out the puff of white signaling Appa’s appearance.  Leo’s jaw works and he twists on his feet, turning his back on the meeting place.  Leo pulls a portal open before their sliding forms and Aang struggles to stay balanced as Bumi’s cage hits rough terrain.  Aang stumbles forward off the cage and blinks.  Leo teleported them to the very bottom of the city.  

“Free the Earthbender,” Leo says.  “I’m going back for my brother.”

Aang steps forward but the spirit is already gone.  He closes his hand and turns back to Bumi with a smile.  “Don’t worry!  There’s gotta be something here I can use.”

“Aang.”

He picks through the debris and feels another grin coming on when his hands encounter a crowbar.  “Perfect!”

“Aang.”

Aang spins the bar and walks back to Bumi.  “We’ll get you out in no time-.”

“Aang!” Bumi pulls, chin lifting and a slab of rock lifts him out of Aang’s reach.

The metal falls from limp fingers.  “You,” he frowns, “you can earthbend?”

“Well,” Bumi laughs.  “They didn’t cover my face.” 

Aang can only stare and in the next blink, he’s angry.  Furious even.  “You could Earthbend this entire time!” he shouts.  “Why didn’t you free yourself?  Why did you surrender!”

“Aang,” Bumi says and Aang pauses at the seriousness.  “You have to listen to me.” 

And he does.  He listens to Bumi’s reasons and Aang feels like another rift has opened.  Bumi’s changed.  Aang shouldn’t be surprised, it’s been one hundred years, but.  He’s an adult now, Aang thinks.  A warrior, a leader.  Bumi’s not a kid anymore.  Aang leaves Bumi in the cage like he wants.  It feels like he's leaving another part of his old life behind.  That's all it's been since he woke up.    

Aang glides back to the camp and lands next to Appa.  He buries his deep into the bison's fur.  At least he hasn't changed.

“Aang!”  

Katara wraps him in a tight hug and Aang lifts his arms to return it.  

“Where’s Bumi?” 

“He’s not coming, Sokka,” Aang sighs.  “Bumi got captured on purpose.”

“What!” Sokka shouts.  “So we did all that for nothing?”

“I guess,” Aang says and the energy shifts at his despondency.  They share a look but Aang ignores it.  He just takes in the changing outline of Omashu, his last constant.  Gone.  Everywhere he looks more things disappear to their unforgiving fire.

Katara places a hand on his shoulder.  “It’s ok, Aang.  We’ll find you an earthbending teacher.”

“Thanks, Katara.”

“So what now?” Sokka asks.  “What do we do with this kid?  And what’s wrong with Leo?”

Aang blinks.  “Leo’s back?  Did he bring anyone with him?”

“Noo,” Sokka says slowly.  “Was he supposed to?” 

“He thought he saw his brother back there.”  

Sokka sets the baby down.  “That creepy spirit was his brother?”

“You saw him?”

“Of course we did Aang,” Katara says.  “We were on the ground when it grabbed you.”

Aang frowns and looks around the camp, but there’s no sign of the spirit.  “Where is he?”

“He’s on the bison,” Sokka answers.  “Sulking apparently.” 

“I’m not sulking.”

Sokka throws his arms in a clear 'you see!' gesture and Aang smiles.  He spins his arms and pushes up to the saddle with a pull of air.  He lands next to the spirit, but Leo doesn’t move, just lies with his back to the overtaken city.  “No Earthbender, huh.”

Aang winces.  Right.  Leo gave up precious time to help him save Bumi.  Not that it did any good.  “No.  Bumi said I have to find one that waits and listens.”

“Well that’s not cryptic at all,” Leo snorts.

“Yeah,” Aang chuckles.  “Bumi’s always been a bit…different in his lessons.”  He shuffles and clears his throat.  “So, was that your brother?”

“Not sure,” Leo answers.  “He was gone by the time I got back.  Probably look for me.”

Aang slumps.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, Aang.”

“No,” he pushes.  “It’s not.  I’m supposed to help you find your brothers, and you just missed your chance of finding one.”

“I did,” Leo says and the spirit finally sits up.  He gives Aang a small grin, “but there’s always next time.  Donnie can take care of himself.” 

Aang smiles back, but there’s a seed of worry growing in his stomach.  He thinks back on the encounter.  The spirit attacked him, he tried to stop him from saving Bumi.  He was dressed like him too.  He's seen those boots on countless soldiers.  Aang doesn't want to say it, but it’s almost like the other spirit was helping those girls.

“Seriously,” Sokka calls, “What are we going to do with this kid?  We can’t exactly stop the war with a Fire Nation baby traveling with us.”

“Don’t be dumb, Sokaa,” Katara glares.  “We’re not keeping the baby.”  She turns and crouches before the giggling boy.  “Don’t worry Tom-Tom, we’ll get you back to your mommy.”

“I can help with that.” 

Aang gets to his feet and pivots instantly at the unfamiliar voice.  A figure hovers towards them on the oddest pair of metal wings Aang’s ever seen.  It's the same spirit from earlier.  He's covered in greens and dark colors and flies in an odd standing position with his arms crossed low behind his back.  There’s no bend to catch a current or tilts to maximize the lifting of air.  The spirit just cuts straights to them.  It’s unnatural.

Fire Nation shoes settle against the dirt without a sound.

Seeing him up close confirms all of the Aangs fears.  He's drowning in Fire Nation apparel, which can only mean one thing.  Aang sets his shoulders.  He doesn't want to, but he'll fight this spirit if he has to.  There's a sound behind him and Leo moves past him in a blur of blue and green, launching himself off Appa.  He collides hard with the other spirit, nearly knocking them both to the ground.  “Donnie!!  I knew that was you!”  

“Who else would it be?” the spirit grouches, but his arms come up to return the embrace.  “Not many spirits running around here, am I right?”

Leo laughs and pulls back, his eyes wet.  “Man, am I glad to see you!  I was starting to think I was here by myself.”

“That’s what Mikey said.”

Leo grabs the spirit’s shoulders.  “You found Mikey?  Where is he?”

“Not with me,” the spirit says.  “He didn’t want to leave Zuko.”

Aang's jaw drops at the name.  Zuko?  There’s a spirit traveling with the Fire Prince?  Maybe that's why they haven't seen him since the invasion.

“And you just let him?”

“He can take care of himself, Leon,” the spirit frowns.  “Besides, we can cover more ground this way.”  The spirit looks over Leo’s shoulder, eyes roaming their small group and the refugees behind them.  “I’m assuming you haven’t found Raph yet?”

“No,” Leo says.  “You’re the only one I’ve found.”

“We’ll,” the spirit smirks.  “I found you.  I’m two for two right now.  I wouldn’t be surprised if I find Raph next.” 

Sokka steps forward with his hands on boomerang.  The older boy's eyes take in this new spirit and his face hardens.  “Sorry to interrupt, but who are you?  And what do you mean by Zuko?”

The spirit's gaze settle on them and Aang suppresses a shiver.  This spirit, Donnie, is so different from Leo.  The clear Fire Nation association isn’t helping either.  Aang looks at the two of them, and tries to find the similarities, but can’t.  They look so different.  

“So you’re the Avatar?” the spirit says.  “I was expecting someone older.  I’ve gotta say, everyone’s falling a little on expectations around here.”

Ouch.

“Aang doesn’t have to be anything other than who he is!”

Donnie raises an eyebrow at Katara and a smile pulls at his lips.  He says something to Leo, voice spinning into sounds Aang can’t understand, and Leo throws his head back and laughs.  “I know,” Leo says.  “It’s cute, right?”

Aang feels his face heat and he doesn’t know why.  Sokka widens his stance and Aang steps forward before Sokka can say anything else.  He's the bridge between the spirit world.  It's his job to mediate before things spiral out of control.   He spins his staff and lowers into a bow, hands flowing into the air symbol.  “It’s an honor to meet you.  I might not look like it now, but I’m sure I’ll grow into a respectable Avatar during our travels.”  

"Oh," Donnie says.  “I’m not going with you.”

Aang pulls out of his bow, shock overtaking his features, but Leo’s already shouting.  “What?  Why wouldn’t you come with me?”

“Well, I have to give the baby back.”

Leo frowns.  “You can return the baby and still leave with us.  They can’t exactly hold you.” 

Donnie sighs and holds out a hand.  “Let me see your wrist.”

“What?”

“Your wrist,” Donnie repeats.  The purple spirit grabs Leo’s right arm and pulls the banding down.  Aang knows what Donnie is looking for before he sees it.  Sokka's pointed it out once before over dinner, but Leo didn't seem particularly concerned about it, so they let it go.  Judging by the other spirit's face though, they might not have been the best thing to do.  Donnie runs a finger over the marking.  “Do you know what this is?”

“No,” Leo admits.  “It looks familiar though.”

“It should,” Donnie says.  “It’s from Draxum’s ‘Do Not Touch’ scroll.”

Leo looks at Donnie and his face and posture pull into something serious.  Leo slips back into that language that scratches something familiar but just out of reach.  The spirits go back and forth.  Their voices falling and raising in an unknowable argument that he can only watch.  Leo gets more insistent with each sentence but Donnie seems to holds steady.

“Fine!” Leo says, “I don’t know why you can’t do it with us, but I’ll go with this plan, for now.  But the next time we’re all together, we stay together.”

Donnie smiles.  “Thanks, Leo.”

Donnie turns to the rest of them and walks toward Tom-Tom.  He spins his staff and purple energy spreads around the toddler until he’s surrounded by a glowing cage.  Donnie opens an arm and Leo goes in for a quick hug.  “I’ll see you after you find Raph.”  He looks at Appa and his face twitches a bit.  “Have fun riding your animal.”

“Hey!” Leo grins.  “Appa’s a great travel companion.”

Donnie snorts and his shell unfolds into metal wings.  “I’ll take your word for it!”  He lifts off with Tom-Tom babbling a wave in their direction.  “Find Raph!  And make sure you read!”

Leo cups his hands around his mouth and shouts.  “I don’t know how!”

The spirit laughs and disappears into the air back for Omashu.  Aang watches until Donnie is nothing more than a spec in the air and jumps when a hand hits him in the back.  He turns but Leo is already climbing on Appa’s back.  “What are you guys waiting for?” he grins.  “Let’s go find you an Earthbending master!” 

Aang feels his face pull into a smile at Leo’s attitude change.  He doesn’t know what happened.  Heck, he doesn’t know what to make of this new spirit, but he’s Leo's brother, and that’s all Aang needs to know.  He lets the air pull him into his usual seat on Appa’s neck and waits for the other to climb on.  They take off then, heading deeper into the Earth Kingdom with a new goal in mind.  Donnie doesn't seem so bad, despite his affiliation with the wrong side.  He must have a plan, Aang thinks.

“Am I crazy,” Sokka starts, “or did he not answer the 'is a spirit traveling with Zuko' question?”

Azula

“Shouldn’t we wait, Azula?”

“No,” She says. “He’s not coming back.”

“But-,”

“Drop it, Ty Lee,” Azula says.  “His brother is traveling with the Avatar.  He already disapproves of the Fire Nations approach.  He’ll join his brother to find the last.”  Knowing Zuko, they’re bound to run into each other soon or later.  The Prince does have a knack for tracking down the air bender if the reports can be believed.  He’ll switch to their side, she thinks.  Their traitorous Uncle will become the Avatar’s fire-bending master and Zuko will follow along like the fool he is.  It makes sense now.  The younger spirit didn’t choose her brother, he chose Iroh.  Who else would better serve to teach the Avatar?

She thinks back to the brief encounter.  The spirit came onto the field with a whisper, swinging deadly swords and stealing the Avatar from her grasp with unbelievable circles of energy.  Portals.  Real portals.  The applications alone could turn the tides of this war, yet they use it to break out one prisoner?  There must be limits, she thinks.  She would ask Donatello, but that’s a moot point now.  He's gone, probably off looking for the last of the four.

She’s surprised that they didn’t find the final turtle hanging around the King of Omashu.  There must be a stronger, more dignified master out there for the Airbender.  Azula rests her head against her fist and can’t ignore the question any longer.  Why did Donatello choose her?  She’s a filial heir.  Azula would never betray her father.  Was it to sow discontent amongst the ranks?  He has been very liberal with his criticism of Fire Nation intervention, and a lot of peasants still put weight behind the thoughts and actions of spirits.  She needs to report the spirit’s desertion to Father.  Her nails dig painfully into her palms.  Azula has never disappointed her father like this.  She’s seen what it brings.  

A piercing laugh fills the air.

Azula signals the palanquin to stop and pushes open the curtains.  Donatello flies towards them with steady wings and a child held away in a purple cage.  She raises a hand and the palanquin lands softly against the ground.  By the time she gets out the spirit is landing without a sound before Mai.  

“Here,” he angles the cage above her hands and opens the bottom.  Mai catches her brother and stares at the spirit in open shock.  “That better be the right kid.  I’m not going back a second time.”

“Y-yes,” Mai clears her throat and pulls her face into forced boredom.  “Yeah, it’s him,” she sighs.  She bows at the waist, “Thank you, Great Spirit.” 

“Don’t mention it.”  Donatello turns his attention to Azula and she pulls back her shoulders.  “So we’re leaving without people now?”

“Why did you come back?”

“Because I said I would?”

She folds her hands in the small of her back, but they’re trembling.  She won’t let him brush this off.  Not this time.  “That’s not good enough.” 

“I appeared before you for a reason,” he says and she sucks in a breath, “and I want to know why.”

She stares at him hard before turning to the palanquin.  She settles back in her seat and sits there for a long moment.  She reaches forward and opens the curtain.  A second later Donatello slides in across from her and there’s just enough space for him to sit comfortably.

“Your brother?”

“Leo will be fine,”  Donatello says.  “He thinks he can find Raph before me.  My money’s on me though.  I’m two for two right now.”

She tastes the joke before saying it.  “I found Michelangelo,” she says, “doesn’t that mean you’re one for one?”

He huffs a laugh.  “Semantics.”  His shell unfolds and a metal arm reveals a familiar box.  “Care for a game?”

She smiles.

Chapter Text

Katara 

It’s unusually quiet once they leave the swamp.  Katara sits at the front of the saddle with Sokka and Aang, but she keeps her eyes on the huddled form of the spirit.  When he first retreated into his shell it scared her heart straight into her throat.  She had no idea that he could even do that!  Leo hasn’t said anything since they found him shaking over an enormous vine in the swamp.  He didn't even speak when the swamp bender explained the power of the tree.  His attitude only getting worse the more the man spoke.

“Ok,” Sokka whispers.  “What’s got him so down?”

“I don’t know,” Aang says.  “Has he talked to anyone?”

“No,” she whispers back, “does anyone know what he saw?”

The boys shake their heads in silence and Katara sends another worried look toward Leo’s shell.  She brings her hand to her neck and places the other on Sokka’s knee.  She knows what they saw cut like no other, like a taunt.  The ghost of loved ones they felt personally responsible for.  Their presence pulled at all the questions they hid in their hearts.  If she hadn’t been a bender, if Sokka hadn’t fallen in love.  All the ‘ifs’ thrown in their face in a misty swamp.  Sokka said Yue spoke.  Who knows what Leo saw?  What it could have said?

Aang lets the wind blow him into the saddle.  “So, Leo,” he starts.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

The shell doesn't move and Leo doesn't respond. 

“Well,” Aang hesitates.  “I saw this girl and she was dressed all in white, and there was a flying boar!  She seemed nice.  I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Yeah,” Sokka snorts, “that’s if future girl is even real.” 

“C’mon Sokka,” Aang complains.  “You heard what Huu said.  Time is just an allusion.  We’re still connected to those even after they move on-.”

“That guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about!”

Katara jumps at the voice.  Leo’s completely out of his shell now, and his face is curled in anger.  “How can you guys just believe him like that!?”

“H-He’s lived there a long time.  I’m sure he knows-.”

Leo interrupts with a laugh, but there’s no mirth to it, in fact, it’s mean.  Aang's face falls and Katara faces the spirit with a hard set to her jaw.  “Leo,” she starts, “that’s enough.”

He glares at her.  “That’s enough what!?  Nice girl?  Well, that ‘nice girl’ will be dead soon if we listen to that guy!”

Aang shrinks further at the harsh tone and Katara glares on Aangs behalf.  “You don’t know that.”

“Oh yeah?  You and Sokka both saw people at the age they died.  That would mean ‘future girl’,” he sneers, “dies young.  How can you guys sit here and-and accept that.”

“We’re not accepting anything!” she pushes.  “Look, I don’t know what you saw but that doesn’t give you the right to yell at us!”

“I’m not yelling!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Let’s calm down,” Aang tries.  “Trust me, I know it’s hard, Leo, but death is a part of li-.”

“MY BROTHER ISN’T DEAD!”

Katara lifts a hand to her mouth and Leo’s face crumbles into something devastating.  Nobody moves.  Nobody speaks.  The standoff is finally broken by a questioning rumble from Appa’s throat.  Aang moves immediately, floating to land softly on the bison’s head with a quiet, “We’re ok, buddy.”  Katara doesn’t take her eyes off Leo, so she sees the moment he shuts down.  He turns away from them and pulls back into his shell with a silent pop.

He stays hidden, a shell in the corner of the saddle, for hours.  

Aang steers Appa toward a clearing when dusk begins to fall, and they set up camp in silence.  Sokka tries to lure the spirit out.  Offers an afternoon spar and everything, but Leo doesn’t budge.  It’s only when Katara is serving dinner does she decide she’s had enough.  “That’s it!”  She tosses the ladle into the soup bowl, not caring when some splashes over the edges.  She gets up with a huff and stomps toward the bison.

“Ugh,” Aang protests, “I don’t think that’s a good-.”

She turns to him with a glare.  “It’s been hours, Aang!  Someone has to talk to him.”

“But-.”

“I would sit this one out, Aang,” Sokka mumbles.  He grabs the discarded ladle and spoons himself another helping.  “Just let her handle it.”

“Thank you!”  She shoots daggers at the bison and continues walking toward it.  “And save some for Leo!”

“Hey!  You snooze you lose!” 

Katara rolls her eyes and starts climbing up Appa’s tail.  She pulls herself over the lip of the saddle and lets her gaze settle on the turtle.  Leo’s still in his shell with Momo sleeping peacefully on the curve of his back.  She lowers herself beside the spirit and pulls Momo gently off his sulking form.  “Sorry, Momo,” she says.  “I need to talk to Leo alone if you don’t mind.”

The animal just chitters and flies off for the campfire.  Katara smiles before turning a scowl at the forlorn spirit.  “We’re going to talk.”

He doesn’t say anything.

She breathes.  “Can you at least come out for food?  You haven’t eaten all day.”

Again, no answer.  Her eyebrow twitches.  “You can’t stay in there forever, you know!”

“...You don’t know that.”

Katara stops at the petulant mumble and leans forward to peek into the opening of his shell.  The black eyes of the spirit blink back.  She sighs, “please talk to me, Leo."  Silence.  She grits her teeth,  "I’m not afraid to pull you out.”

“Yes, you are.”

Katara bristles at the accusation.  She’s never let fear stop her from anything.  She takes a breath, bends, and reaches in for Leo.  The spirit immediately starts shouting, but Katara doesn’t stop until she feels rough reptilian skin against her fingertips.  She grins for a brief moment at her success, and yelps when teeth latch around the meat of her hand.  Katara jerks back and glares as Leo finally pulls himself from his shell.  He matches the strength of her glare with one of his own.

“I can’t believe you reached into my shell!  A turtle’s only sanctuary!” 

“You bit me!  What are you, five?”

“If I’m five then you’re four!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Hey guys,” Sokka calls, “How we doing up there?”

“Fine!” she yells.  She narrows her eyes at the spirit, “sit down.”

Leo crosses his arms and falls to the saddle with a huff.  She ignores the attitude and crosses her own legs.  She shakes out her hand with a small hiss.  He sure has some sharp teeth.  Katara inspects the wound and lets out a breath when there’s no blood, just pointed indents.

“Sorry.”

She glances at him and sighs.  “I’m sorry too.”  They watch the stars for a moment.  Now that she has him out, she’s not exactly sure what to do.  She just knew, instinctively, that he shouldn’t be alone.  She decides to start from the beginning, “Who was it?”  The silence stretches and Katara feels her shoulders slump. 

“It was my older brother,” he finally answers.  “Raph.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No,” he says, “and that's the worst part.  He wouldn’t respond.  No matter how loud I called for him.”  He shifts and wraps his arms around his knees.  “I know it wasn’t real, but it looked just like him.”

So did mom, she thinks, but she doesn’t voice the hurt.  This isn’t about her right now.  Leo’s always been there for them.  A steady warmth in a snowstorm that never needed to be tended, so to see him so upset is…jarring.  Katara knows he loves his brothers, but she’s ashamed to admit that it felt distant, like Tui and La.  But they were here, she thinks, swimming in a pound that was approachable to humans.  So close and vulnerable to the ever-changing tides of human emotion.  Leo’s here too.  Visible and vulnerable just like the spirits were.  They were too late to do anything for the moon and ocean spirits, but they aren’t too late for Leo. 

“It’s just,” he continues.  “I’m sick and tired of the future telling me my brother is dead.  That he might not-,” his voice cracks, “-that he might not grow old with the rest of us.”  

There’s a tale in that sentence.  A store that he hasn’t shared yet and Katara doesn’t push.  It wouldn’t help if she did.  She scoots closer.  “Look, I don’t know if what Huu said is true-.”

“It’s not.”

“-But you’ll find him, Leo.  I know you will.”  She looks over her shoulder before lowering her voice.  “Between you and me, I don’t believe in the future ghost thing either.”

He turns to her.  “You don’t?”

“No,” she smiles.  “The future isn’t written in stone.  It’s changing constantly, like a river.  There’s no way to account for every branch and change in current.”

“Right!  That guy doesn’t know anything.”

“He knows something, Leo,” she corrects.  “You don’t live surrounded by such spiritual power and not learn anything, but he doesn’t know everything.  Nobody does.”

Leo looks back at the sky.  “My brother's not dead.”

“I know,” she smiles.  “If he’s as strong as you are, then you have nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t tell him I said this,” Leo grins, “but he’s stronger.”

Katara blinks, “He is?”

“Most older brothers are.”

She thinks back on Sokka.  Of a straight back, boney shoulders, and thin arms holding her up when dad left.  She’d cried that night and Sokka never cried again.  He gathered all the wailing children the next day and set them on task to protect the village.  She’d resented him then, for his perceived callousness, but now.  “Yeah,” she says, voice thick.  “They are stronger aren’t they.” 

Leo bumps her shoulder and Katara bumps him back.  “You ready for dinner?”

“Yeah, I am.”  He moves then and wraps her in a firm hug.  She lifts her arms and returns it automatically, so used to giving warm hugs back in colder climates.  “Thanks,” he says.  He pulls back with a grin, “You remind me of a friend of mine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, April.  Only she would reach into a turtle’s shell like that!”  He pauses, “Well Casey would too, but she’d start with a knife.”

“What!?”

He throws his head back and laughs.  He springs to his feet and offers her a hand.  “Let’s go.”

She grabs it and follows him down the back of the sleeping bison.  Leo settles between Sokka and Aang and grabs a bowl of soup.  He doesn't say anything and Katara clears her throat.  “Sorry,” he starts, “for yelling earlier.  I wasn’t mad at you guys.”

Aang beams.  “We know.  Apology accepted!”

Sokka just waves a spoon and nods in response.  Katara smiles at the sight and folds next to her brother.  She turns and pulls him into the tightest hug she can.  Maybe even the tightest one she’s offered to date.

“Wha-Katara!”

“Just,” she says and Sokka stops squirming, “thanks, for everything.”

He wraps a strong arm around her shoulders and it’s almost heavy, like her father's.  “You’re welcome,” He says.  Dinner continues and Katara feels like she can finally take a full breath after the swamp.  The atmosphere was so heavy there, and she’s glad to see the group getting back to normal.  She tunes back in to hear Aang telling a truly animated tale to Leo about Monk Gyatso and a visit to the Western Temples.

“You’d love it, Leo!”  Aang says.  “The temples are upside down and built directly into the underside of a mountain.  It’s beautiful.”

“It sounds beautiful,” Leo says.  “We have stuff like that in my world.  Entire cities built directly into mountains.  It’s pretty cool,” he puts a hand on Aang's shoulder.  “I’d love to see the temples though.”

The airbender lights up.  “Totally!  We should all go to the temples!  It’ll be fun!”

“After the war,” Sokka says, “but first, we need to find you an Earthbending teacher.”  Sokka reaches into his pack and pulls out a map.  “We’re pretty close to Gaoling.  I hear it’s one of the bigger towns, so we might find someone there.”

“Leo should probably go in disguise,” Katara says.  “We don’t know who’s in the city.”

“Great,” Leo groans, “does that mean I have to wear pants?”

She makes a face.  “Why wouldn’t you wear pants?”

“I wasn’t wearing anything when we met,” Leo says.  The spirit's face slips into a smirk and waves a hand down his general form.  “Besides, turtle is chic, it’s runway ready!”

Katara brings a hand up to cover a laugh.  “Donnie was wearing pants.”

“Under duress I’m sure.”

“Just wear it,” Sokka grumbles.  “And maybe lose the blue bandana?  It doesn’t really work with your earth kingdom get up.”

“Oh, and all green is better.  It’s tacky.  I’m green already,” Leo huffs.  “And the bandana stays.  Blue’s my color!”

“I have some extra clothes you can use!”

“No offense, Aang,” Leo says.  “but orange is Mikey's thing, not mine.  Also, buddy, I hate to break this to you, but you’re short.”

“Hey!”

“No,” Sokka says.  “Leo’s right.  Orange just doesn’t fit.”  Sokka sets his bowl down with a hum and brings a hand to his chin.  “I do have some extra pants and shoes.  The pants are an old pair of dads so they might be a little big though, and you can wear one of my shirts?”

“We’ll see how it looks in the morning,” Leo says.  “It’s getting late, you guys should get some sleep.”

“Shouldn’t you?” Katara questions.  She thinks back to their time together and frowns.  “When do you sleep?”

“I wasn’t crying in my shell all day, Tara,” Leo answers and Katara pauses at the nickname.  “I slept for most of the ride, and like I’ve said before, I’m used to being up all night.”

“If you say so,” Katara says.  She collects the plates and steps toward the small stream and runs water through the bowls in a practice motion.  By the time she’s finished with the dishes, Sokka is already setting up the tents.  It's not long until the whole camp shuts down with a silent dosing of a flame.  Katara falls into the sleeping bag and watches Leo from across the camp.  The spirit has both his swords out.  They cut through the air without a sound, and the spirit moves across the ground in a practice motion.  There’s a shift and Katara sees Sokka watching the spirit.  His eyes are glued on Leo as he moves through the katas.  She’s just starting to drift when Sokka gets to his feet.  He picks up the discarded stick he tried to lure Leo with earlier and stops just outside of Leo’s moving form.  The spirit makes room for her brother easily.  He shifts to the beginning of his set and Sokka rises his hands to copy the motion.  Leo starts again, but slower, keeping his eyes on Sokka's form.  Katara feels her lip twitch and she turns away from the scene.  She’s suddenly glad that Leo placed a stick in Sokka’s hands all those days ago.  From what she can tell, he’s going to be a great warrior.

They start the next morning with an early water bending practice and a quick fashion show.  Leo walks from behind the trees in a loose pair of ocean-blue Water Tribe pants.  Sokka was right, they are a bit big on the spirit, but they tuck nicely into the knee guards of Sokka’s lightweight boots.  He’s not wearing the shirt, instead, the spirit has tied the light blue fabric around his waist and it drops to cover the back half of the pants.

“What’s with the shirt?”

“You didn’t exactly give me a belt, Sokka,” Leo says.  “Plus, doesn’t it look better like this?”

“I guess,” Aang says, “but I thought you were supposed to be in disguise?”

“I don’t know if you guys just don’t notice it, but it’s warm,” Leo answers.  “I can’t walk around fully covered all the time, besides, isn’t it a good idea for the Avatar to be seen with a spirit?”

“He’s right,” Sokka says.  “People need to see that the spirits have backed the Avatar's mission.”  He scowls, “I bet the Fire Nation is doing the same thing with your brother.”

“Seems like it.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?  He’s basically working with the enemy!”

“How many times do we need to go over this,” Leo scowls.  “Donnie’s fine!  He knows what he’s doing.  Probably.” 

“Probably?!”

Leo rolls his eyes and hops onto Appa with a jump and forward flip.  “I'm not arguing with you again.  We’re wasting daylight people.  Vamanos!”  No one moves and Leo drops his head back with a groan.  “It means let’s go, people.  We have an Earthbending teacher to find!”

“Why do spirits have so many languages?” Sokka grumbles, but he climbs onto Appa without argument.

Aang gives the reins a shake and Appa takes off into the sky with ease.  They’re only in the air for a few hours when the city of Gaoling breaks up the horizon.  Katara takes it in.  It’s always a shock to see so many people together.  To see entire towns living as if there isn’t a war raging across the continent.  It makes her think of the great Northern city and she tries not to dwell on the unfairness. 

Their presence in the city is met with very little fanfare, despite the fact that they’re traveling with the Avatar.  They don’t even bat an eye at Leo’s appearance, which is weird.  A few come up of course.  Earthbenders folding rock into Zhufu prayers and non-benders offer sweets and bows, but it’s not often.  Maybe it’s an Earth Kingdom thing, she thinks.  General Fong wasn’t exactly falling to his knees at the sight of Leo.  They end up splitting up on the way to Master Yu.  Leo veers off further down the road and promises to meet them at the Earthbending school.  

“That was a bust,” Aang groans, and Katara can’t agree more.  The man was a leech.  The only good thing about the school is the Rumble Six information she got out of the students.  Boys, why do they have to make things so complicated?  they hunker down against the outside wall of the school and wait for Leo to meet up with them.  if she knew it was going to be this short she would have just asked Leo to wait for them.  Sokka comes back with a few sticks of meat and she bites into one gratefully.  It's always nice to eat someone else's cooking for a change.

“How’d it go?”

Katara straightens when Leo joins the group.  “Horrible,” she frowns, “the man's a scam artist!”

Leo just hums and drops into a deep squat.  “That’s sucks.”

Katara tenses at the tone.  She shares a worried look with Aang.  “How about you?  Did you find anything?”

“Yeah,” he sighs.  “Raph was here, but no one’s seen him in a while.”

“What?!” Sokka shouts.

Leo slams a fist against the wall.  “He’s been here this whole time.  He must have left to find us.  I just missed him.”

Katara places a hand on Leo’s shoulder, “We’ll find him, Leo.”

“So,” Leo pivots.  “No luck on an earthbending teacher?”

Katara stiffens at the redirect but accepts it.  “No, but there is some sort of underground Earthbending competition tonight.  We might find someone there, but I’m not sure how good of an idea it is though.”

“We should go,” Leo says.  “It sounds a little like wrestling.”  He huffs a small laugh.  ‘Raph would’ve loved to go.”

Now there's no question about it.  “Then it’s settled,” Katara announces.  “We’ll go to the Rumble tonight.  Even if we don’t find Aang a teacher, then we’ll at least have a good time.”  

Toph

Toph listens to the Rumble from the hallway and tries not to grin.  None of the bozos out there stand a chance against her.  The Boulder’s not half bad, but he doesn’t come close to the Blind Bandit.  She feels the moment The Boulder wins, a quick kick of earth to an unguarded side and the loser shoots out of the ring to the excited cheers of the audience.  Toph starts walking towards the stadium and cracks her neck.  She already knows how this is going to end, but pounding adults into the ground never gets old.

Toph steps into the center and lets the Earthbenders raise her into the middle of the stage.  The crowd erupts into cheers and some murmurs of confusion, but she ignores it.  She hands the belt to the attendants and turns to face the challenger.  He’s hesitant at first, as they always are, but her insults push him over the edge.  She waits for him to move and in two moves she sends him flying out of the ring.  The crowd falls into a hush, but she smirks.  That was easier than she thought.  Toph raises a fist and finally, the crowd gets to their feet in a cacophony of noise.  They’re so loud that she can hardly hear Raph in the front row.  

She waits for Xin Fu to offer a challenge to a brave soul and she's surprised when someone actually jumps on stage.  Toph feels the person out and has to stop herself from laughing out loud.  A kid, really?  This will be a piece of cake.  “Are we sure the crowd wants to see two little girls fight?”

The crowd goes crazy at the insult, but the boy doesn’t react.  He just keeps talking, voice and heart calm.  He steps forward and Toph makes her move.  She kicks the line of rock his way and pushes the earth beneath his feet up.  She feels him move with the motion and waits for the force to send him flying, but it doesn’t.  Toph’s not sure what happens.  One second his legs are buckling under her rock and then the next he…shifts.  The movement is soft and she loses him to the air.  She stands there in shock before the lightest vibration settles against the ring behind her.  “Someone’s a little light on their feet!”

The boy just shrugs and Toph stomps another boulder under his feet.  He does the same move as before.  Collapsing against the rock before floating, but this time she’s ready.  She hears the faint exhale float by her and she smirks.  Toph moves quickly, kicking up a boulder and punching it toward the direction of the boy's breath.  A satisfying shout and the familiar ring of rock against skin makes her laugh.  He doesn’t fall out of the ring, but she’s ready now.  There’s the smallest brush of a foot against the edge of the arena and she’s punching another rock his way.  This time, she’s got him.

Except she doesn’t.

The boy pushes his hands out, but there’s no earth, not even a tiny vibration in the stone, but there’s wind.  Lots of it.  Toph yells out in shock as the gust picks her off her feet.  She’s blind for a heart-stopping second until her back collides hard with the ring.  Toph grits her teeth against the wind and pulls with a twist.  One last rock rises out of the ground and digs deep into the boy's chest.  Toph goes over the edge of the arena just as the boy goes flying, the proper way, out of bounds.  She lands hard against the ground and the stadium goes quiet.  Toph sits up and can feel when the boy lands on the floor.  Her face falls.  She fell first.  She hit the ground before he did.

She lost.

“T-The Blind Bandit fell first!” The announcer shouts.  “The challenger wins!”

The crowd goes wild but one voice overpowers all of them.

“WHAT?!” Raph roars, “HE CHEATED!!”

Toph falls flat on her back.  She lifts a fist and brings it hard against the stone.  The floor caves at her anger and power, leaving a deep crater behind.  She lost.  Toph never loses, not to anyone, but some yahoo jumps from the crowd and takes her down?  Toph pushes to her feet and stomps to the tunnel leading away from the ring.  She turns to the wall and throws a punch, and another, and another.  How did he do that?  The kid never even sent a rock her way and he wins?  Her toe twitches and she grits her teeth even harder.  Great.  The guy came down to gloat.

“Wait!  Please listen, I need an Earthbending teacher.”

Toph pulls her face into a sneer.  Please.  “Great, go ask Mr. Yu.  He’s always looking for students.  You might even be able to pay his ridiculous price.”  She turns and lifts the stone between them with a kick.  She can feel the kid moving against the stone, but she ignores it, ignores everyone's shocked heartbeats, and heads for the tunnel home.  Raph’s already waiting for her, the people here already knowing to let him in once he comes down from the seats.  She doesn’t say anything and kicks the hole open.

Raph jumps in after her, and she pulls the hole closed behind them.  “He cheated.”

Cracks form under her feet, but she doesn't stop walking.  “It doesn’t matter.  I still lost.”

“Oh, I know,” he says and she stops.  “But he still cheated.  He didn’t even earthbend, like at all.”

“I still should have won!” she shouts.  “I’m the number one champion!  But some bozo from the stands can get in the ring and knock me out?!”

A hand tries to land on her shoulder but she pushes it away.  “Toph, you can’t expect to win every fight.  Losing is a part of being a warrior.”

“Not for me.”  She spits.

“Yes for you,” he says.  “All you’ve ever fought is eathbenders.  You don’t have any experience taking on other elements, and it’s clear this kid used something different.”

She grits her teeth.   Raph has a point.  All she knows is Earth.  She’s never even felt another person move a different element.  So to feel this guy come out of nowhere, use moves she’s never even considered.  It just made her cage feel extra small. 

“You held your own though.”

She scoffs.  “It was over before it even started.”

“But you tagged him good in the air,” Raph says.  “And that rock bending while you were rolling was sick.  He didn’t see it coming, that’s for sure!”

“Earthbending,” she snorts.  “...I did get him good didn’t I?”

“Yeah!” he says.  “You’re getting better at hitting things in the air.”

“Of course I am,” she smiles.  “I have a great teacher.”

“Aah,” Raph says and she feels it before he says it.  “Here comes a hug!”

His arms wrap around her and she shouts in protest.  The spirit doesn’t let go and her shouts turn to laughs when he lifts her off the ground.  “Alright, let me down.  We got a lot to practice.  No one’s pushing me out of the ring like that again.”

The loss still stings, but Toph knows what she's got to do now.  She wonders if she can convince Raph to throw stuff at her.  He's always hesitant about stuff like that, but she'll never get better if she doesn't practice.  Well, she thinks, I've got time to convince him.

She didn't, not really, but that hurt didn't materialize until later.

Sokka

“Did you hear that?”

“What,” Sokka grins.  “If it was Aang totally CRUSHING the Blind Bandit, then yes, I heard it loud and clear!”  Well, Aand didn’t crush her really, it was close, but semantics.  He gets up, ready to jet down and accept the belt and money on Aang’s behalf if the airbender doesn’t do it soon, but a grip like steel wraps around his elbow.  He turns, mouth already open and an indignant shout in his throat, but he stops.  The spirit looks frantic.  “What’s wrong?”

Leo’s eyes are scanning the stands but the crowd is too rowdy after the upset.  “That was Raph.  He’s here.”

Sokka stands fully and tries to see what Leo looking for.  “Did you hear what direction it came from?”

“Left, near the front.”

Sokka adjusts but doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary.  There are a lot of people here and unless Raph came in his full turtle glory then he’s in disguise.  Sokka focus on what’s out of place, maybe a different shade of green?  That’s when he sees it.  A hint of red too bright to be Fire Nation peeking from a hunched man’s hood.  “There.”  He points to the man jogging for an opening in the wall.

Leo pivots and his breath catches at the sight.  “RAPH!” he shouts, but the crowd is too loud.  The man doesn’t turn around and slips into the open hallway.  Leo doesn’t wait.  A sword materializes in his grip and Leo’s markings begin to glow with spiritual power.  Sokka blinks and then they’re falling.

Traveling by portal is the scariest and most amazing thing he’s ever experienced.  It’s blue, just like Leo, and electric currents run past them constantly.  Sokka has never wanted to touch something so badly in his life, but just as quickly as it started, it ends.  The ground comes quickly and Sokka doesn’t stick the landing.  He looks up just in time to see the door close in Leo’s face.

Leo punches the wall.  “No!”  He shouts, “RAPH!”  The spirit hits it again, “Open the door!”

Sokka gets up, “Leo-.”

“He’s here, Sokka!” Leo cries.  “He’s right here.”

“I know,” Sokka says.  “Go, we’ll catch up later.  You said teleporting with a distance in mind is fine right?  I don’t think the door’s that thick.”

Leo flips a sword in his hand and disappears into another portal.  Sokka watches the flicker of blue until that too dissipates into the air.  He stands there for a moment before turning back for the stage.  He needs to get the money and gets the others.  He has no doubt that Leo will find his brother, it’s just a matter of when at this point.  Sokka walks up the steps and slings an arm across Aang’s despondent shoulders and takes the winnings when Aang doesn’t reach for them.  He hears his sister reassure Aang about the bender, but Sokka's mentally calculating the excess supplies they'll need.

He has a feeling they’ll have two additional mouths to feed before they leave.

Zuko

The days after leaving Uncle are painful.  He didn’t make the decision lightly, the idea simmered at their first humiliation and boiled to a fever pitch when they last begged for money.  They were royalty, Mikey’s a spirit.  To-to degrade themselves to the point of performing for commoners was too much.  Especially when enduring the jeers and taunts from the wealthy.  He stole from them, not as much as he could, yet Uncle still reprimanded him.  That night he knew, instinctively, that he had to go his own way.  Forge his own path to his honor and put this humiliation behind him.

Zuko left that morning without a speech or a shout.  He was set in his decision and he thinks Uncle knew that, but when Uncle first called out to him, Zuko thought -hoped- that the older man would plead for him to stay.  He should have known the Dragon of the West wouldn’t beg.  No one in the royal family would commit such a disgrace.

Except for him.

There’s a rustle in the bushes and Mikey falls through with a grunt.  The spirit pulls his hood down and drops a small load of fish at Zuko’s feet.  Mikey tugs the rest of his disguise off until he’s left in the muddy brown Earth Kingdom pants and overused shoes.  Mikey immediately drops to his feet and starts cleaning the fish, and Zuko has to turn away at the thinness in the spirit's cheeks.  Hunger has hit them all hard.  Mikey is no longer the round-faced spirit he was on the raft, and Zuko no longer feels the heavy weight of muscle.  It’s a subtle thing, but the implications make him breathless with rage.

“So,” Mikey says, “what’s the plan?”

“It’s the same plan as always,” he grunts.  He finishes the last of the fire pit and grabs a fish to prepare.  “We find the Avatar and restore my honor,” he flicks a scale off.  “Then I come back for Uncle.”

“You probably shouldn’t have left him then.”

He flicks another scale.  “Noted.”

Mikey jumped on the Ostrich Horse as soon as Uncle gave it to him.  Zuko hadn’t bothered to dissuade the spirit.  In fact, he felt relief when Mikey refused to let him leave by himself.  The spirit has kept to his word and Zuko welcomes the unconditional support.

“How are you going to find the Avatar?” Mikey says.  “You don’t exactly have access to your old network.”

Zuko glances up at the tone.  Mikey’s been…stiff ever since they left.  “I’ll figure it out.  I always have.”

Mikey cuts down the belly of the fish with a quick flick of the wrist.  “And all this to end your banishment.”

Zuko lowers his hands.  “Uncle told you?”

“Yeah,” Mikey says.  “He told me before we left.”  The spirit looks up and his eyes are sad.  Zuko looks away.  “It shouldn’t have happened, Zuko.” 

Zuko doesn’t say anything.  Of course, Uncle would tell the spirit.  He tells everyone who would listen.  It’s bad enough he has to live with the shame of that day.  The last thing he needs is more pity.  “It’s fine,” he says.  “Everything will be fine once I have the Avatar.”

Mikey sets the fish down.  “I don’t think you should go back to your dad.”

What?

“What?”  The blood rushes to his ears at the statement.  Mikey doesn’t think he should go home.  Then why is he following him?  Why is the spirit supporting him?  He stares at the turtle and it feels like the ground has fallen out beneath him, and suddenly he’s back in the North, but there’s no raft in sight.  Just him in an endless ocean struggling to stay afloat.

“Zuko,” Mikey says and water laps at his throat.  “Your dad isn’t a good guy-.”

He goes under.

“-What he did to you,” Mikey continues.  “It’s unforgivable.”

It’s like he’s drowning, but Zuko never goes down without a fight.  “Hypocrite.”

Mikey stops.  “What?”

He surfaces.  “Hypocrite!” He shouts.  How can Mikey sit here and say these things about his nation?  About his father?  “All you preach is-is second chances, and I can’t give one to my father!?”

“He burned you, Zuko,” Mikey says, voice hard.  “For speaking in defense of your soldiers.  What father does that!”

Another wave overtakes him.  “He was teaching me a lesson!”

“There are other ways to teach your kids instead of maiming them!”  Mikey says, his voice pulling Zuko further underwater.  He can’t breathe.  “Then he banishes you.  You can’t possibly believe a parent would do that out of love.”  

Zuko turns, but it’s like he’s struggling to stay afloat.  He knows what Mikey’s going to say next because they all say the same thing.  He doesn’t want you home, they whisper, You were never meant to find the Avatar.  You were meant to die on your search, and by doing so, you would finally restore your honor.   He curls his hands and claws against the current, “You gave Draxum a second chance.”

Mikey rears back.  “That’s different,” Mikey frowns.  “Your father hurt you-.”

“And Draxum hurt you!”

“What?  No, he didn-.” 

“He hurt your brother,” Zuko interrupts.  He’s above water now and he’s furious.  He’d boil this whole ocean between them to steam if he could.  Zuko curls his fingers into his palms and lets smoke raise from tight fists.  “He hurt your brother.  He threw Leo off a roof.  He could have died!”

Mikey flinches as if struck, and now it’s the spirit's turn to flounder.  “B-but he didn’t-.”

“And neither did I,” Zuko roars.  “My father could have killed me, but he didn’t.”  He’s breathing hard now and the ocean between them continues to grow.  Zuko blinks and finds himself on his feet, but he doesn’t remember moving.  He doesn’t care.  “He’s my father!” he shouts.  “Is he not worthy of a second chance?”  He stares at Mikey in betrayal.  How can he do this to him?  Cast him out to sea and leave him drowning in this emotion.  “I know he hurt me ok!  But he’s…”  He can’t finish the sentence, he doesn’t know how.

"Not for this, Zuko,” Mikey says.  “Never for this.”

It’s too much.  He can’t breathe.  Each breath feels like a fight, and he’s tired of fighting.  He turns away from the spirit and grabs his stuff.  He throws his clothes into his bag and ignores the spirit at his back.  He needs to get out of here.  Zuko pushes past the spirit and mounts the Ostrich Horse and tries not to burn the reins.  

“Zuko!”  Mikey shouts.  “Stop, please!  I’m sorry, ok.  Let’s talk-.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says.  He doesn’t even shout and that feels worse somehow.  Mikey grabs for the animal but he falls back when Zuko releases a wave of fire for the spirit's hands.  Mikey stumbles and falls, face swallowed by shock and betrayal.   Good.  At least they both feel the same in this moment.  He kicks the horse hard, anger and hurt making the move stronger than necessary, and the animal takes offs.  

“Zuko!”  Mikey cries, “Wait!”

Zuko leans forward and begs the animal to run faster.  

“Please!”  Mikey’s voice is faint now, but it tears at something in Zuko’s chest.  “Don’t leave me!”

He grits his teeth and buries his face into the fur of the creature.  The Ostrich Horse runs.  Runs until Mikey’s voice is a faded memory tucked neatly against Uncle’s disappointed expression and his father's scorching hand.  He should have known it would turn out like this.  It always does.  

He’s destined to face this alone. 

Chapter Text

Azula

The search for both the Avatar and her brother hits a stall soon after they leave New Ozai.  There’s very little information on either location even with Azula’s extensive network of information.  She goes through another round of useless reports and fights the urge to burn every last fool in her vicinity.  Azula should be hot on the Avatar’s trail by now with her Uncle and brother in chains.  She pulls an old report close and scowls hard at the characters.  Zuzu always found the Avatar mear days after the airbender landed in a city.  That alone should prove that the child is easy to find, yet his movements still manage to allude her.  She throws the old report away and curls her fist.  Azula has always managed to outdo Zuko in all activities.  This should be no different.

A scaled hand flips the old report around.  “Jeez, Zuko ran into the Avatar eight times and only captured him once?”

Azula smirks and leans back.  Right.  Zuko’s had multiple chances to prove his worth and he’s failed every time.  She’s just starting her own pursuit.  “He's not known for his planning.”

“Oh I can tell,” Donnie says.  “I’m now worried for my brother.  I’ll have to trust that the Dragon of the West will keep them under control.”

Azula sneers at the title.  “I wouldn’t put all your hope in him.  Uncle hasn’t been the same since his failure.”

“Ba Sing Se, right?”

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see the city!” Ty Lee smiles.  “I wonder if there’ll be any cute boys there?”

“You always manage to find at least one,” Azula says.  The door opens and Azula wipes the emotion from her face.  The messenger steps in with a tray full of scrolls.  “Set them on the table.”

The woman bows and Azula turns back to the reports.  There has to be an easier way to find the Avatar.  Something Zuzu missed.  The woman unloads her trey but doesn’t leave.  Azula puts down the paper and narrows her eyes at the hesitation.  “Is there something else?”

The woman flinches, “Yes, Princess,” she pulls out a small scroll and Azula stiffens at the golden seal.  Azula holds out a hand and the messenger places it against her palm.

“Leave.” 

The woman bows again before slipping out of the room.  Azula stares down at the parchment.  She sent Father a preliminary message outlining her plan for Ba Sing Se, but she wasn’t expecting a response this quickly.  She unrolls the scroll, but it’s short, with a message containing only one word.

Succeed.

She doesn’t move, but her grip on the paper grows unforgiving.  She lets fire leak from her palms until the entire message becomes smoke.  He’s never questioned her before, so why now?  Does he know about Michelangelo?  She tightens her fist.  He must, it’s the only reason why he would send such a reprimand.  She knew there would be spies reporting on her movements, she expected it, but for him to feel compelled enough to send a message?  Azula turns back to the table and picks up the rest of the notes from the engineers.  She reads through the report and leans her head against her fist.  The machine is almost complete, which is good.  She sets the schematics aside and reads through the rest of the report.  The weapon will be heading for Ba Sing Se in the next month or so.  She should capture the Avatar and arrest her traitorous family before then.  

Donnie reaches across the table and drags the schematics closer.  “Why do you have this?  You’re not an engineer.”

“No,” Azula says, “but they don’t know that.  There are very few mistakes when my eyes are on it.”

Donnie hums but doesn’t say anything.  The spirit pulls over a piece of empty parchment and a quill.  He looks at the schematics again with a stream of numbers on his breath.   His hands are flying now over the parchment and Azula leans over despite herself.  She watches as the spirit sketches the weapon in his own precise handwriting and feels her interest grow at the difference in size.  “What are you doing?”

“Improving your drill,” he answers.  “Yours isn’t that bad.  I’m mildly impressed.  Heavy on the mildly,” he hums.  “I mean, it’s overkill, but I love a good drill.”

Azula stares at the spirit.  He’s never been this active in her pursuits to introduce the Fire Nations' superiority to the rest of the world.  In fact, he’s been very vocal in his disapproval of the mission, but he hasn’t acted against her yet.  He’s been passive in his approach.  Not helping, but not interfering either.  It keeps her edge.  Azula’s constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop with Donnie.  She’s just not sure which one it’ll be, “How long would it take to implement your changes?”

“Oh, I’m not giving this to you.”

There it is.

“I just have nothing better to do,” Donnie continues.  “There’s literally nothing to do.  What did people do before the internet?”

Azula rolls her eyes, “don’t bore us with another tirade.”

“Why not?” Ty Lee grins.  “I think it’s cute!”

Figures Ty Lee would find the creature amusing, but the acrobat hasn’t sat through literal hours of complaining.  “Anyway,” Azula says.  “Why won’t you help?  Clearly, it’s something you excel at.  You’ve made it a point to criticize every Fire Nation machine in sight.”

“Criticism leads to improvement,” The spirit says.  “And I’m going for as little impact as possible while I’m here.”

“Your brothers don’t seem to care.”

“No,” Donnie smiles.  “They don’t.”

“Ugh,” Mai groans.  “Spare us.  I can’t take another moment of gushing about your brothers.”

The spirit straightens with a hint of red on his cheeks and Azula catalogs the reaction.  “I don’t ‘gush’ about my brothers.  If anything, I complain about them.”

“Sure,” Mai deadpans.  “I’ll remember that during your next endless story about the power of family.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Clearly.”

Azula snorts a laugh behind her hands and smothers it at the knock on the door.  “Enter.”  The Fire Sage walks in and Azula tries not to roll her eyes at the sight.  They insisted that one join on this journey when they abandoned the procession.  She nearly burned him at the sheer gall of the request, but she let it be.  The last thing the royal family needs are rumors of them mistreating Fire Sages.  The Sage carries a plate of scrolls to Donnie and presents them with a bow.  

“I procured what I could, Donatello,” the Sage says.

Donnie looks at the small pile with a frown.  “This can’t be everything.”

“It’s not, Great Spirit,” the Sage answers.  “There are more at the Royal Library, but they cannot leave the grounds.  It is forbidden.”

Donnie crosses his legs, “even at my request?”

The plate shakes.  “Forgive me.”

Donnie drops his head against his knuckles with a sigh.  “I guess I was destined to run into boundaries sooner or later.  Very well, place what you have on the table.”

The Fire Sage stands and sets the golden plate before the spirit, but the Sage doesn’t leave.  Instead, he bows even further and holds out weathered palms with a small flame beating above his skin.  Donnie stares at the small fire for a moment before his rectangular marking begins to glow.  A translucent purple wall of light appears and he pushes it forward.  The wall seems to wrap over the Sage before dissipating just as quickly, leaving the flame intact.  The Sage shakes, 'thank you's' pouring from his throat before backing out of the room.

Azula turns to Donnie with a raised eyebrow.  “Did you just bestow a blessing?”

The spirit unrolls the first scroll.  “If that’s what you want to call it, then sure.”

“Why?”

“Jian’s been very helpful from the beginning.  I figured it was about time.”

She raises an eyebrow.  “Jian?”

“That’s his name.”

“But he failed you,” she says.  “Why bless him now?”

“Well, you can’t show appreciation only when they please you,”  Donnie squints at the characters before pushing to the next scroll.  “Rewarding him when he’s ‘failed’ lessens the fear.  Fear will only get me so far.”

Azula looks at Ty Lee and Mai as they leave the room.  “Fear seems to work well for me.”

“Yeah,” Donnie snorts.  “For now.  It never lasts in the long run though.  History will tell you that,” he pauses.  “Maybe not your history, but mine's riddled with war.  We’ve learned a thing or two.”

 “Fear ensures no mistakes.”

“Nothing ensures no mistakes.”

“So what,” she scowls, “you think one should rule through love?  I’ve never pegged you for the naive type.”

“I was thinking loyalty, but sure, we can say love.  Although I don’t think your family is loveable right now.”  

“Love is useless to royalty,” she dismisses.  “You have to be hard to make the tough decisions”

“Compassion isn’t a bad quality in a leader either,” the spirit points out.  “People would like Ozai more if he cared about his citizens.”

"What?” she laughs.  “Compassion?  Look where such softhearted ideals landed Zuzu.”

Donnie puts down the scroll.  “For someone who ‘hates’ him so much you sure do manage to bring him up in conversation all the time.”

She taps her fingers against the table, leaving scorched fingerprints in her wake.  “Everyone loves Zuko,” Azula spits, but they all struggle to do the same for me.   “Look where that love got him.  Disfigured and banished, destined to live the rest of his life in shame.  Love will get you nowhere.”  She stares at the spirit and dares him to say something placating.  She learned from her father that love is for fools, fear is the only reliable option.   Azula is not some little girl that needs to be coddled with nice words, nor is she soft-hearted enough to rely on such fleeting emotions.  Azula’s a blade, unsheathed, cutting everyone for as long as she can remember.  She’ll cut this spirit too.  He’ll pity her, forget how dangerous she truly is, and then she’ll slice through the green of his hands like she always does.

Donnie doesn’t look away from her gaze.  “Well, I don’t love you,” he says, “but you are growing on me.” 

“Of course, you don’t love me!” she snaps, heart racing.  “We barely know each other.”

“That’s why I said you’re growing on me,” he says slowly.  “I definitely like you more than your brother, that’s for sure.”

Easy words to say now.  “You don’t know Zuko.”

“I don’t need to know Zuko,” Donnie snorts.  “The reports told me everything I needed to know.  He’s a hothead, and I can only tolerate the ones in my family.”  He pulls another scroll his way and Azula finds her attention shifting.

“What are you looking for exactly?”

He stares at her hard and Azula stiffens.  She’s never been under such scrutiny, especially from the spirit.  Finally, he moves, laying his right arm out between them and pulling back the black armbands covering most of his forearm.  Azula zeros in on the small shape shimmering faintly against his wrist.  It’s a curious thing, all swirling lines surrounded by two sinched rectangles.  

It reminds her faintly of a lotus.

She takes in the stark lines against the shades of his scales, but the top portion is a pulsing purple.  “What does the color mean?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, “but there’s more of the color each time I look at it.  Not much, but the fact that it’s changing is worrying.”

“Why?”

Donnie covers the symbol.  “There are only a few reasons why something fills up,” he says, “and none of them are particularly good.  I’m trying to find something in your history, but I’m hitting a wall.”  He turns back to the scrolls and his face twitches in irritation.  “I don’t want to go all the back to the Fire Nation for information that may not be there.”

“You can always check Ba Sing Se once I take control of the city.”

This pulls a small laugh from the spirit.  “You sound pretty sure.  Your weapon's not even fully finished yet.”

She flashes to the message Father sent earlier.  Succeed, a harsh tone shouts, Succeed!   “I don’t know failure.”  She gets up after that and heads outside.  They’ll be back on the move once Azula has a direction, but she still does not know where to go.  There’s a shout and a laugh and Azula catches Ty Lee running across the camp.  The girl flips, bouncing off the ground with a powerful push to scale up a sizable trunk under the unimpressed gaze of Mai.  

Azula watches Ty Lee flips through the trees in mild interest when something white catches her eye.  She squints at the branch and takes a few steps back.  She takes in the distance, bends, and runs for the tree.  Azula pushes hard against the ground and reaches to wrap a hand around a low branch.  She lets her momentum carry her forward and she twists, landing on the branch with a small puff of air.

“Go Azula!”  Ty Lee cheers.  “You’ve gotten a lot better!”

She smirks but keeps her eye on the puff of white further up.  She scales the tree quickly and stops once she’s at eye level with the offending white.  She reaches for the clump and tugs it free from the rough texture of the bark.  Its fur, soft like nothing she’s ever felt from any animal, but how did it get all the way up here?  The wind blows and a few whisps of hair from her grip, and Azula turns to follow them.  She catches sight of another clump of fur in the opposite tree.  Azula stands tall on the branch and spots three more tufts of hair further north.

She grips what’s left in her hand and feels a wild grin grow as her mind connects the dots.  

She falls from the tree, catching a lower branch to slow her descent, and lands hard against the ground.  “Prepare to depart!”  She shouts.  “We just stumbled on a trail.”

Aang

“Well, that didn’t work.”  It was a disaster more like it.  Toph wants nothing to do with them or saving the world.  She even called the guards before they could really get through their pitch.  Aang knew she didn't want to talk last night, but he didn't expect her to be this prickly in the morning.  “I don’t understand,” he says.  “Do you think she’s still mad about the belt?”

“Sore losers generally are.”

“Sokka!” Katara glares.  “She just needs time, Aang.”

“We don’t have time,” he complains.  “I need to stop the Fire Lord before summer.”

Sokka slides against the wall with a sigh, “and we can’t just find someone else because?”

“It has to be her, Sokka,” Aang says.  “I know it.  She’s my Earthbending teacher.”

“Well, your teacher just called the guards on us,” Sokka says.  “What do we do now?  We can’t sit in this town and wait for her to train you.”

“We need to give her a little time,” Katara repeats.  “Maybe wait for Leo?  He’ll want to convince her since…”

Katara doesn’t finish and Aang doesn’t need her to.  The students they threatened warned them of a spirit protecting the house of Beifong, a big one.  They didn’t see the spirit on the grounds, so they can’t confirm if this rumored spirit is a turtle, but it has to be Raph.  Aang could hardly contain his excitement when those earthbending students mentioned the spirit.  It’s not a coincidence that Leo’s brother lands with Toph.  It can’t be.  The spirits are practically shouting that Toph should be his earthbending teacher, so how can she say no?  She has to say yes, he thinks, because what will the spirit do if she doesn’t come?  What would Leo do?

“Did he tell you anything, Sokka?”

“My answer's not going to change just because you ask me a hundred times,” Sokka says.  “We’ll see him soon.”

“What if,” Aang starts but the words get stuck in his throat.  He swallows, “What if Leo decides to stay?”

“What!” Sokka shouts, sitting up.  “Why would you even say that?!”

Aang shrinks.  “It’s just-his brother is here-.”

“So?!” Sokka says.  “Leo’s here to help us.  He’s not leaving.  End of discussion.” 

Aang lets the protest die on his tongue.  He’s not sure what Leo’s going to do if his brother doesn’t want to leave Toph.  A spark of blue has them all looking up and Leo falls to the ground without a sound.  Sokka scrambles to his feet and Aang steps back in shock at the spirit's sudden appearance.  Leo lifts his head and his eyes are just as wide as theirs.

The spirit shifts.  “Hey, guys.  What’re you doing here?”

“Us?!”  Sokka exclaims.  “Where have you been?  We haven’t seen you since the Rumble!”

Leo hums, sinking a blade into the dirt, and leans against it.  “Well, I didn’t find Raph last night.  Which, devastating, but then I started doing some digging.  Turns out there’s a family in town that’s rumored to be protected by a spirit.  The-.”

“-Beifong's,” Katara finishes, “We know.  The Blind Bandit is their daughter.  Toph Beifong.”

“Great!” Leo grins.  “We can kill two birds with one stone,” he points to the stone wall.  “Let’s get in there, grab your teacher and my brother and get out of here.”

Aang clears his throat.  “The thing is,” Aang says.  “She doesn’t want to leave.”

“Yeah,” Sokka says.  “She kicked us out and everything.”

“Have you tried talking to her parents?”  Leo questions.  “I mean, you’re the Avatar!  Who wouldn’t want their kid to train you?”

“We’d need to get in there first,” Katara points out.  “And she made it pretty clear that we aren’t welcomed.”  

Aang opens his mouth but stops.  Avatar, he’s the Avatar.  An idea sparks.  “I think I know the perfect way in.”  

It takes less convincing than Aang thought to get a seat at the Beifong’s table.  The servants had fallen over themselves when he first proclaimed his title, and the fever only increased when he introduced Leo.  They hurried and brought earthbenders out to open the gates, which was a little weird, but they’re in the manor now.  The staff usher them into a waiting room and Aang can just make out the sounds of chairs and tables being moved.  He feels bad for the last-minute work, but he needs to talk to Toph.

“This is great,” Sokka whispers.  “We should throw your name around more often.”

“We shouldn’t abuse the title of Avatar, Sokka.”

“We’re abusing it right now!”

“For a reason,” Aang whispers.  “How else am I going to talk to her?  We don’t have time to wait for the next Rumble.”

The door opens before Sokka can respond and Aang fixes his posture.  “Sorry for the delay, Avatar Aang,” the servant bows.  “Please, this way.  We have also prepared a special seat for your spirit.”

They follow the servant into an expansive dining hall.  The room is bathed in luxurious greens and browns with geographical art adorning the walls, and there’s one long table situated in the middle of the room.  Toph, her mother, and that obnoxious teacher occupy the left side with her father settled firmly at the head of the table.  There are three open seats on the right, and across from Lord Beifong sits a separate, smaller table.  It’s adorned with silk fabrics and covered with glass plates holding fresh fruit, rice, and vegetables.  The chair is just as ornate as the table and Leo walks to it with a grin.  “Now this is what I’m talking about.”

“Like he needs a bigger head,” Katara mutters, but she’s settling into the chair across from Mr. Yu.

“It is an honor to host such an esteemed guest,” Lord Beifong says.  "I had no idea the Avatar was this far into the Earth Kingdom."

“It’s an honor to be here.  Thank you for letting us into your home on such short notice.” 

“You flatter me,” Lord Beifong laughs.  "Sit, we've prepared a delicious spread."   

Aang falls into the chair across from Toph but the girl doesn’t react no matter what he says.  The servants set down a hot bowl of soup and Aang sees an opportunity to pull a reaction from the earthbender.  He sends a small tornado to cool down her food but she doesn’t join in when the others clap at the display.  Aang frowns.  

“Not that this isn’t fun and all,” Leo says, “but I hear there’s a spirit here?”

“Oh,” Madam Beifong blinks.  She shares a look with her husband.  “I guess rumors travel quickly around Gaoling.”

Leo puts down his chopsticks.  “So there isn’t a spirit here?”

A hush falls over the table.  “T-there is a spirit here, Leonardo,” Lord Beifong says.  “Please understand, we were just shocked at the question.”

“Sun,” Madam Beifong calls, “find out where Raphael is and invite him to dinner.”

Aang watches Leo sit straight at the name.  No one says anything while they wait.  Only the soft sounds of eating fill the room until Sun comes back.  She steps in first and bows at the waist.  “Whoa.”  Aang can't stop the gasp from slipping out at the shadow looming through the doorway.  The spirit is big and wide, stepping slowly into the room like a heavy boulder.  There’s no doubt he’s a turtle spirit, the spiked edges of his shell seem to frame his entire being.  The shock of red adorning his head takes Aang by surprise, but it’s offset by the bright greens and browns of his Earth Kingdom pants.  

Sokka’s hand clamps down hard on his elbow and Aang pulls his eyes away from the massive spirit.  “Do you see the size of this thing?” Sokka hisses.  “He’s built like a tank!  This can’t be the turtle we’re looking for!” 

Aang nods in agreement.  This spirit looks nothing like Leo or Donnie.  Aang can’t find any hint of Leo in the sharpness of this spirit's face or his presence.  The spirit stops next to the table and he feels unmovable.  

“Well,” Katara adds.  “Leo did say Raph was stronger than him.”

“When did he say that, Katara?”  Sokka whispers.  “He’s never even described this guy's headband.”

For a moment, Aang truly believes this is the wrong spirit, and his excitement lags.  Leo’s going to be devastated.  There’s a clatter of plates and Aang looks just in time to see Leo land briefly in the middle of the dining table before launching at the giant spirit.  

“RAPH!”

Toph

“RAPH!”

Toph feels the spirit vibrate against the table before falling into the arms of the large spirit.  

“Wh-Leo!”  Raph’s voice morphs from confusion to joy and Toph feels the bigger spirit wrap completely around the smaller one.  “Leo!” Raph’s voice is thick.  “Man, am I glad to see you.”

“Me too, Raph,” Leo says and his voice sounds equally wet.  “This is great!  We’re all accounted for!”

“What!?” Raph lifts Leo completely in the air, “Donnie and Mikey are with you?  Where?”

Toph feels Leo roll out of Raph’s grip to settle against the bigger spirit's shell, but just barely.  Maybe it’s because the pounding in her own chest makes it hard to hear anything. 

“They aren’t here,” Leo says, “but I know who they’re with!”

“That’s better than nothing,” Raph sighs, “wait are you here with this guy?  He’s a no-good cheater?!”

She smiles despite herself and tries to calm down.  Twinkletoes is a cheater, how do you jump in the ring when you’re the Avatar?  It's not fair.

“Hey!”

Leo laughs and rolls off Raph’s back to land gently on the ground.  “I knew you were there!  I just missed you last night at the-.”

Raph’s heartbeat skyrockets before a hand engulfs the smaller spirit's face.  “At the park!” Raph shouts.  “When I was out….on a stroll!  Y-you must have seen me out taking a walk last night.”

Toph places food to her lips to cover a laugh.  He’s a terrible liar.

“Raphael,” her mother says.  “You know you’re supposed to be here at night.  What happens if Toph needs you and you’re gone?”

The laughter dies in her throat and Toph tries not to snap the chopsticks in her hands.

“Sorry, Madam Beifong,” Raph says, “It won’t happen again.”

"I'll have to talk to the benders," her mother mumbles.  "They aren't supposed to open the gates so late."

“So,” her dad starts, “how do you know R-Raphael?”

Toph stops eating and she fears that she already knows the answer.  Toph got a better read on this spirit when he landed in the middle of the table.  His light step sent clear vibrations down the stone and through her fingers.  This spirit is smaller and more compact in muscle, but the shell gives away his relation.  She knew Raph would find his brothers eventually, she just never thought one would show up first.

“This big guy is my brother,” Leo says.  “I’ve been looking all over for you!”  

“I don’t recall Raphael mentioning he has family,” her mother says.

Toph can’t help herself.  “Yes, he has, mother.  Raphael has three younger siblings.” 

Her mother stops and Toph already regrets speaking up.  “That’s right, thank you, dear,” her mother says.  “I forget how…close you've gotten with him.”  The room stays quiet at the statement.  It feels like an accusation.

“Not that this is awkward or anything,” Leo says, “but Raph and I have some catching up to do.  Enjoy your dinner.”  

She feels Leo tug Raph out of the room with a, “how do you even fit in this place?” and it feels final.  Like a door closing or a ring of a bell signaling the end of a match.  There’s no way Raph is staying now, not with one of his precious brothers here.  It shouldn’t matter.  She knew he'd leave one day, it’s just-she thought she had more time.  Her mood sours at the thought and she takes it out Aang.  She pulls his chair hard with a drag of her foot when he starts hinting at her capabilities.  He faceplants into the bowl of warm broth and retaliates with a push of air disguised as a sneeze.  Toph wipes the food from her face with a casual flick and a growing anger.  What is he, a baby?  He's supposed to be the Avatar and he's acting like a little kid!

Toph doesn't know how she gets through dessert but her mood continues to deteriorate when her father extends an invitation for Aang and his friends to spend the night.  She can feel the servants making up the guest room and she turns with a huff.  They can stay and beg all they want, but she's not leaving.  She makes her way through the garden and tries not to tear up the delicate stonework.  They can't just come here and expect her to leave everything she's ever known.  The manor's not even that bad anymore.  Raph's appearance has gained her more freedom than ever before and she's close to talking to her parents.  She knows it.  Toph just needs more time.

"-landed here." a familiar voice says and she grins.  Toph runs forward, she hasn't gotten a chance to tell the spirit why those bozos are here in the first place, but another voice stops her in her tracks.

"Same," Leo says.  "I landed in the middle of the North Pole!  Surprisingly, not as cold as I thought it would be.  I've been ok though.  We haven't faced too many issues since Aang's the Avatar.  Not many people in the Earth Kingdom want to hurt him, so I haven't had to get too involved."

"What about Donnie and Mikey?" Raph asks.  "How are they doing?"

"You know Donnie," Leo says, "he's not leaving the lap of luxury anytime soon, but I haven't run into Mikey yet.  Donnie says he's with the Fire Prince."

"That's good, right?" Raph says.  "I mean, royalty is protected 24/7."

"I guess," Leo hums, "but they're with the Fire Nation.  That's like, maximum evil here.  What about you?"

"Nothing exciting," Raph sighs.  "The Beifongs run a tight ship when it comes to Toph, so I've been staying pretty close to her.  I try to go looking for you guys during the day but..."

"I get it," Leo says.  "Don't want to lose it out here.  You might accidentally start a cult."

"I'm trying not to start a cult now," he huffs.  "Does Donnie have any idea how we got here?"

Toph feels Leo move until he's sitting across from Raph.  "He thinks it has something to do with Draxum's 'do not touch' scroll.  I keep telling you guys that we need to go through his little library, but nooo, now look where we are!"

"You were the one messing with his stuff!"

"Yeah, but if we messed with his stuff earlier, we would've known not to touch it!"

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Look we can argue about how much of this is Draxum's fault later.  We have bigger things to focus on,” Leo says.  “Like finding Mikey and helping Donnie figure out how to get us home.”

“You’re right,” Raph says.  “When are you guys leaving?”

“Probably tomorrow,” Leo says and Toph's heart drops.  “We can’t really stay in one place too long.”

“I’ll pack my stuff and talk to Toph later,” Raph says and she turns away from them.  He didn’t even hesitate.  He’s leaving with them tomorrow and she doesn’t know what to do.  She needs more time. 

Toph finds herself outside the guest room and pulls Aang aside for a talk.  She has to talk to someone, so she tells him her story.  About her blindness, the badgermoles who taught her how to see, and a household that’s determined to keep her blind.  Aang asks her the obvious and her answer feels hollow even to her own ears, but it’s hers.  They’re her parents.  Despite their faults and this cage they built around her, they love her in their own way.  She’d have nowhere to go, no one to fall back on if she left.  

It’s in that moment of indecision and distractedness that those chumps from the Rumble get the jump on them.  She bangs and shouts against the metal cage the entire way with painful promises of retribution falling from her mouth.  They accuse her of cheating, of working together with the Avatar to win the prize money and she laughs in their face.  They saw the house they just kidnapped her from, Toph doesn’t need the Rumble’s chump change.  They string her and Aang up like trophies and it’s not long until her father shows up with everyone at his back and money in his hands.  They open her cage and she falls out roughly to the frantic voice of her father.  She slips back into her role, plays the demure and scared victim, and grabs for her father’s hand.

“What about Aang?” Katara asks.

“I think the Fire Nation will pay a hefty price for the Avatar,” Xin Fu says.  “Now get out of my ring.”

Toph’s heart falls at the announcement but she keeps walking.  Aang will be ok, he has two spirits and a waterbender on his side.  They don’t need her.  She can already feel Leo moving to pull out a sword, but Raph holds out an arm, stopping him.  “Toph,” he says.  “You know this place.  This is it.  You can help.”

“My daughter is blind!” her father shouts.  “You know this Raphael.  She is weak and helpless.  The Avatar and his own spirit can get him out of this mess.”

“Toph,” Raph says.

She squeezes her father's hand and stops.  “Toph,” her father demands.  “It is time to go home, where it’s safe.  The Avatar and his friends can take care of themselves.  They don’t need you.”

Raph doesn’t move for the caged child.  He just keeps his body directed at her.  “It’s now or never Toph.”

She drops her father's hand and shows the room why she’s the best earthbender in the world.  It’s exhilarating.  To fight so many of them at once with her father’s eyes on her every move.  If they thought they would win because she was outnumbered, then they haven’t been paying enough attention.  She’s the number-one champion for a reason.  She’s launching every last one of them into the stands and ripping the money off of Xin Fu’s belt in ten minutes.

“YEAH!!!” Raph shouts.  The spirit runs onto the ring and snatches her up in a bone-breaking hug.  “That’s how it’s done!  The Blind Bandit!  Undefeated!”  Raph puts her down and then it’s Aang and his friends crowding around her.  She grins at their excitement.  She’s never been so happy, but her father doesn’t say a single word all the way home.  They're led to the receiving room, but her father continues to the main house.  Toph takes a seat and waits for both of her parents.  

“How’s he feeling,” Raph whispers.  “Like, his heart?  Is he happy, sad, angry?”

“I don’t know,” she says.  “It’s definitely beating, that’s for sure.”

The smaller spirit drops between them and Toph scowls at the interruption.  “Judging by his posture and stony expression,” Leo hums, “I’d say he’s disappointed that you’ve been lying for all these years.  A classic dad maneuver.”

“No one asked you string bean,” Toph mumbles, but she frowns.  He can’t be that disappointed, can he?  She knows he’s telling her mother everything that happened, but Toph doesn’t know where he stands on the entire thing.  It’s keeping her on edge.

“Stringbean?” Leo asks, “where did that come from?”

“Aren’t they green and lanky?” Toph says.  “It fits you to a T if you ask me.”

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me?” the spirit asks.  “Raph!  She’s trying to pick a fight with me!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Relax, both of you,” Raph says.  “It’s going to be ok, Toph.”

“Yeah, Top,” Leo says.  “We’re all relaxed, you should probably join us.”

She turns and lands a hard blow against his arm.  The spirit leans away with a yelp before delivering a punch of his own.  His fist sinks heavily into her shoulder and she shouts.  “Ow!  What’s your problem?!”

“You hit me first!” Leo says.  “What’s your problem!”

“Will you two stop it!” Raph growls.  “You’re parents will back any minute.  Leo!  You’re supposed to be the mature one here.”

“Me!” he protests.  “What about her!”

“She’s twelve!”

“That’s not an excuse!” 

There’s a laugh from the other three and Toph feels her shoulders fall at the sound.  She’s never had this and she wonders if this is what friendship feels like.  A servant walks in and announces her parent's arrival and Toph gets to her feet.  She explains to them her life the best she can.  Emphasizes the loneliness their protection has brought on her and the freedom she begs for.  She can protect herself.  She knows she can protect herself, and now her parents know it too.  Maybe this can be a new start for all of them.  Maybe they’ll let her out now and the hurt of Raphs departure will fade with this newfound freedom.  Toph holds out her heart and waits with bated breath for their response.

They break it so thoroughly that she’s speechless.  They don’t care.  They don’t care that can she can protect herself.  That she begged for a friend or even a hint of freedom.  They just double down and promise to tighten her cage.  She can hardly hear when they kick Aang and his friends out, and can’t hear the guards moving to her side and walking her to her room.  Toph stands there blankly in her room and then she’s moving.  Toph tears off the fragile fabric her parents force her to wear and slips into the rough texture of the Blind Bandit outfit.  She moves through her room, pulling out clothes and supplies until she has a small bundle in the middle of the floor.

Toph runs into the closet and feels around the shelf until her hand makes contact with a rough bag she was gifted during her first Rumble.  She throws everything in it and wipes furiously at the tears.  They've been falling since her father broke her heart and she can't get them to stop.  There’s a sound outside her room that makes her pause.  She moves, pushing her bag under the bed, and the noise changes to a shaking.  Toph turns towards the door just as Raph enters the room.

“Man,” he says.  “They do not want me in here.”

She can only feel his familiar vibration in shock.  “What are you still doing here?”  They’re going to close the gates, she thinks.  Her parents are going to close the gates and seal the salt line behind Aang.  More vibrations head their way, but Raph sinks to the floor next to her.

“You asked me once,” he starts, “why I didn’t leave to find my brothers.”

She ignores the cacophony of noise growing outside her room and listens only to the spirit.  “I don’t exactly do…well by myself,” he admits.  “I can only go so many hours alone before I need to turn around, but the main reason was you, Toph.”

Her breath catches.

“I wanted to make sure you’d be ok once I left,” he continues, “You proved yourself to everyone, heck, even that snooty teacher said you were the best earthbender he’s ever seen.”

Her lip twitches.  He did say that, to her father even.  “Not like it mattered,” she frowns.  “My parents don’t care.”

“That’s why I think you should come with me.”

She turns to him in shock.  He wants her to go with them.  He’s asking for her to go with them.  Toph knew, instinctively, that she was going to leave.  She knew the moment her father demanded more guards despite witnessing her ability to protect herself.  She’s already packed and ready to force herself into the group whether Raph wants her there or not.  But he brought it up first.  It never occurred to her that he would want her to leave with him.  “What?”

“I thought all your parents needed was to see you in action,” he continues, “but they don’t want to see, Toph.  They don’t want to see you or what you can do,” he pauses.  “You’re going to suffocate in here.  You need to spread your wings, or feet!  Have adventures and fight bad guys!  Prove to the entire world that you’re the best earthbender there’s ever been or ever will be!”  

The sounds outside her room get louder, but Toph doesn’t care.  All she cares about is the surety in Raph’s voice and the steadiness of his heart.  An unidentifiable emotion fills her so quickly that she’s compelled to speak.  “My parents are trying to trap you here,” she says breathlessly.  “They’ve lined the entire manor wall with salt.”  They want to cage you in here with me, she thinks.  Clip your wings and leave you to wither in here with her.  

“I know,” he says.  “They aren’t as sneaky as they think.  You know it can’t hold me right?”

There’s a crash outside.  “Yeah,” she answers, “I just thought you should know.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Raph says.  “You ready to bust out of here?  Don’t think I didn’t notice your bags were already packed.”

She reaches under her bed with a grin.  She sinches the bag closed and gets to her feet.  “They aren’t going to let us go without a fight, you know.”

Raph stands and punches a fist against his palm, and Toph feels the prickly vibration she’s come to know as him activating his powers.  “Let’em try.”

Chapter Text

Katara

Katara stares as the moon inches further into the sky and tries not to get worried.  It’s been hours since they left the Beifong Manor and they still haven’t seen any sign of Toph or Raph.  She shifts in the saddle and leans over the edge to get a better look at the town below.  The view is still the same, all dark buildings and glowing lanterns, but at least it gives her something to do.

“How long are we waiting again?” Sokka groans.  “It’s been hours!”

“Sokka, buddy, relax,” Leo says.  “We’re just waiting on Raph.  He’ll be here after his talk with Top.”

“Toph.”

“Whatever,” Leo waves, “trust me.  He’ll be here any minute.”

Aang rolls over.  “Do you think Toph will come?”

“Not sure Aang,” Leo sighs.  “Look, I feel bad for her situation, like really bad.  Her parents seem like the worst, but you can’t force someone to leave.  They’ll just end up regretting it,” He sends the airbender a smile.  “We’ll find you an Earthbending teacher.”

“You just don’t like her,” Aang mumbles.

“That too,” Leo nods.

Katara snorts but a sudden explosion has her turning around.  She locks in on the smoke coming from Gaoling and feels her heart lodge in her throat.  Is it the Fire Nation?  She catches Sokka twisting to drop a hand on his club and Aang lifting to his feet in a swirl of air.  There’s a sudden shift, a crescendo of sound before something shoots towards them in a blaze of glowing red.  She’s settling into something defensive when the crackling energy lands violently before them.  A cloud of dust and rubble rolls through the hilltop in a wave and Katara has to cover her face.  She squints through the debris and feels her lungs pause at the sight.  

“What the...”

Katara drops her arms at her brother's voice and stares at the glowing visage of spiritual power before her.  It’s Raph, but he’s…expanded.  The spirit lifts a head two times her size to stare at them and Katara falls to her knees automatically.  This spirit, this turtle, lights the entire hill like a small sun and Katara folds under his power.

Katara doesn’t remember all the rituals of her people.  She has faded memories of her mother weaving stories across a warming fire in the middle of snowstorms.  Breathing life into tales of old about waterbenders and the offering they made to the spirits of the element around them.  A lot of their ways faded with death, simply lost as the lack of benders ravaged their communities for decades, but her mother tried.  It’s here, that Katara puts fable back into practice.  She pulls water from her side and twists it to follow the lost tune of her people.  There are some steps missing, entire sections skipped, but Katara moves her arms and the water in a way that is distinctively theirs.  She is not asking for protection or petitioning for a blessing, instead, she performs an Anait.  It means nothing to the rest of the world but means everything to her.  It means warm nights and dances by the fire.   It means weddings, full bellies, and new birth.

It means joy.

A hand falls on her back and only then does she stop moving.  She looks up into the tearful face of her brother and smiles through tears of her own.  

“Katara,” Aang says, “are you ok?”

“Yes,” she smiles, “it’s just…”  She doesn’t know how to explain it, but seeing Raph?  Seeing him glow and expand in the way spirits were always described to her as a child?  For a moment she was back home and surrounded by tribesmen.  She had to honor him.  Katara wipes her face, “I’m fine, Aang.  Really.”

The airbender just nods and Katara turns back to the shrinking spirit.  Soon it’s just Raph standing in his physical body, but Katara frowns.  He’s alone.

“Raph!” Leo calls.  “What took you so long?  These guys were starting to doubt me.”

“And where’s Toph?”

“She’s-.”

There’s another rumble, then the ground splits open next to Raph.  Toph climbs out bruised and covered in dirt, but she’s laughing.  “-Right here,” Raph finishes.

“She made it,” Leo says, “great.”

“What happened?” Katara asks.

“We kicked earthbender butt that’s what happened!” Toph cackles.  “You should’ve seen them!  Running around like babies when Ponytail here went all spirit energy on them.”

“Ponytail?”

“Forget it,” Raph says.  “We should probably get going.”  The spirit walks closer to Appa and stops before the bison's massive head.  “Is this Appa?”

“Yeah,” Aang answers.

“Can I pet him?”

Aang blinks before a smile pours across his face.  “Sure!  Appa loves meeting new people.”

Katara watches the spirit lift a hesitant hand to the bison's snout.  Appa moves slowly, inhaling with a gust of wind before lifting the spirit off his feat with a powerful lick.

“Aww,” Aang says, “he likes you!”

“It’s gross is what it is,” Sokka frowns.  “Let’s get out of here.  I’m not looking forward to fighting off earthebenders.”

“We could take them,” Toph says.  “I’ve never destroyed anything.  I can’t wait to do it again!”

“That’s,” Katara hesitates, “great Toph, but we try not to destroy things on purpose.”  She gets up and moves toward the back of the saddle.  “Here, let me help you up.”

“No thanks, Sugar Queen,” Toph frowns.  “I can get up there myself.”

Sugar Queen, what does that mean?  A spark of irritation grows in her chest, but she lets it die.  They don’t know really know each other yet, and Toph’s coming into a group that’s already friends.  She’s nervous , Katara reasons.  She watches the earthbender pause at Appa’s tail before placing a hesitant hand against his fur.  Once sure steps turn wobbly when the girl's feet leave the ground, but Toph doesn’t ask for help.  Toph climbs slowly up the animal's tail and Katara feels worry grow with each move the girl makes.  “Are you sure-.”

“I said I don’t need any help!”  Toph shouts.  “Geez, can you give me a minute?”

Katara pulls her mouth into a tight line and sits back against the saddle.  Another minute passes before a small hand reaches to feel the air above the saddle.  Toph’s hand touches the edge before the bender pulls herself over the lip.  “See,” she says.  “Easy.”

“Whatever,” Katara mutters.  “Are we ready to go?”

Raph steps back before jumping into the air.  He clears Appa’s height easily and lands softly against the leather of the saddle.  Katara feels her jaw loosen in surprise.  She didn’t even feel the turtle land.  I guess they’re all blessed with soft feet, she thinks.  She turns a respectful smile his way.  “Welcome to the team, Raph,” she cuts a look at earthbender, “and Toph.”

“Thank You,” Raph smiles, and Toph just grunts.  Momo soars through the air and lands with a chitter against the spikes of the spirit's shell.  The lemur sniffs, climbing up the points before curling around his neck.  Raph pulls in a breath and turns sparkling eyes to Leo.  “Quick,” he hisses, “take a picture.”

“With what?” Leo snorts.  “I left my phone on Draxums stupid desk.  The one time I put it down!” 

Raph shrugs and reaches a tentative finger for Momo before petting him gently on the head.  He throws them a grin when the lemur cuddles deeper into his neck.  “So,” Raph says.  “how does this work?  Does Appa…run fast?” 

Leo throws himself across Raph with a grin.  “Oh ho, you’re going to love this buddy.” 

“Yip Yip!”  

Appa lets out a groan and lifts off the ground with a massive push of his tail.  Raph yelps before rushing to the side of the bison.  “This is AWESOME!”

Katara grins at the enthusiasm, but there’s a small sound that has her turning around.  Toph leans against the saddle’s edge with her arms looping through the nearest hole.  The girl's fingers dig hard into the leather, leaving small grooves in her wake.  Katara got so wrapped up in the spirits that she forgot about Toph.  Of course, the girl would be scared, she doesn’t have any contact with her element to see.  She glances at the boys and lowers her voice, “Toph-.”

“I’m fine,” Toph spits.

“It’s ok if you’re not,” Katara pushes.  “I know this is all new, but we’re a team now, and a team helps one another.”

Toph sets her jaw.  “Noted.” 

She doesn’t say anything else and Katara sits next to her with a sigh.  Toph will come around, she just needs time to adjust.  They all do.  Katara watches as Leo dares Raph to hang off Appa’s leg and she smiles.  It’s going to be different now, new people mean new dynamics, but it’ll be worth it.

Katara knows it will.    

Azula

Things are moving quickly now that they have a reliable trail to follow.  She sinks her hand into the white fur sprawled across the table.  They find more and more traces of the Avatar's large beast with each passing day.  Azula rolls her fings and lets the fibers burn under her touch.  She’ll have the airbender and his pathetic partners in her grip soon.  There’s a thud beside her and she turns her attention to the spirit.  He’s leaning over another scroll delivered fresh from a messenger hawk, with bags under his eyes and a scowl.  He rolls the parchment up with a flick of a wrist and pulls another one from the pile.  

“All this information,” Donnie hisses, “and it’s all useless.”

She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.  He’s been moody lately.  Agitated.  Each new scroll and story that spills from the Fire Sage now seems to only sour his mood.  Azula would have the man put to death if she thought she could get away with it, but there are laws when it comes to dealing with Sages.  Plus, Donnie would never forgive her, no matter how useless ‘Jian’ is proving himself to be.

The door opens and Azula sneers at the sight of the red robs.

“Apologies, Great Spirit,” Jian bows, “but I’ve talked to the scouts and I believe I have some information that may be of interest.”

Donnie lifts his head and Azula frowns.  “What is it?”

“There’s a town not too far from here, Gaoling.  There’s a rumor of a great family being protected by a massive spirit.” 

Donnie starts to turn but Azula speaks before he can.  “Our scouts have already checked Goaling,” she sighs.  “Fur was found in the area, and the trail indicates that they left.”  She clicks her nails against the table and rolls her head in Donnie’s direction.  “I assure you if there were a spirit there our scouts would have found it.”

“Forgive me, your Highness,” Jian says, “but I’ve heard this spirit leaves during the day and returns during the night.”

“Really,” she smirks but there’s no mirth.  “My scouts haven’t relayed this to me.  Tell me, where are you getting your information?”

The Sage trembles.  “I borrowed one of the mongoose lizards, Princess.”

She swings an arm out, flinging a stream of fire at the Sage.  The man falls to his knees but Azula remains seated.  “Who gave you permission!?  Those animals are for my use, and my use only!”  her lips tremble and the audacity.  Such a lowly person dares to disobey her!

“I’m sorry Princess,” Jian stammers, “I had to confirm.  I did not want to waste your time on baseless rumors.”

“You’ve already wasted my time,” she shouts.  She gets to her feet, ready to burn the fool before her into submission when a voice stops her.

“Were they?”

“What?” she asks but the spirit isn’t looking at her.

“Baseless,” he continues.  “Were the rumors baseless?”

The man drops his forehead to the floor, “No, Great Spirit.  I spoke to an old maid of the Manor.  She confirmed that the spirit comes back at night.”

The spirit is quiet for a long time and Azula laughs.  He can’t be serious?  “Don’t tell me you believe this fool?”

“I do,” he says.  “Thank you, Jian.  You may leave.”

The Fire Sage moves to get up but Azula scorches the metal before his trembling fingers.  “Your Princess has not dismissed you.”

“Jian,” Donnie says, “Leave.  Now.”

Azula turns to the spirit, stunned.  She doesn’t even bother stopping the sniveling creature crawling out the door.  Donnie has never overridden her commands.  Ever.  The turtle just grabs a map and pulls a pen out of his bag.  “Gaoling,” he mutters, “that’s only a day or two from here.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“We might even get there sooner if we leave now,” he continues.  Donnie pulls at the rope and a servant enters.  “Could you get the captain?  We need to discuss-.”

“No.”

He pauses, “no?”

“Leave,” she says and the servant doesn’t hesitate.  “We have our mission and a reliable lead.  We’re sticking to the plan.”

“Gaoling is only a few days away.”

“And our scouts have already confirmed that the Avatar is not there,” she emphasizes.  “There’s no point in going.”

“My brother could be there.”

“Please,” she snorts, “Your little Sage didn’t even say if the spirit was a turtle.  How can you be so sure?”

“The lack of recent spirit knowledge is a clue,” he says.  “We need to check it out.”

“We aren’t.”

“It’ll take two days max!” Donnie says.  “We’ll be back chasing this bison thing in no time!”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t know that,” he scoffs.  “The animal is clearly shedding and that doesn’t just stop on a dime, Azula.”

She leans forward, he’s never pushed back like this.  “I said no.  We stay the course.”

Donnie folds his hand into a fist before getting to his feet.  He leaves without a word and Azula doesn’t follow him.  Despite what he thinks, the spirit isn’t in charge of this endeavor or these people.  She is.  There’s a light knock on the door and Ty Lee pokes her head through.

“Is everything ok?”

“Everything fine,” she says and closes her eyes.  “You know Donnie.  Always argumentative.” 

“What’s it about this time?”

Azula cracks open one eye at Mai’s voice.  “Gaoling,” she answers. “An unusually wealthy town nearby.  Apparently, there are rumors of a spirit living there.”

“Really?” Ty Lee says, “are we going to check it out?”

“No,” she sighs, “and that’s the issue.  We already have one wild goose hawk chase, we don’t need another.” 

“How did he take it?” Mai asks.

“Poorly.”

“He’ll get over it,” Mai says.  

Azula smiles faintly.  Of course, he will.  He has no choice.  “Ty Lee,” she says.  “Call a servant to prepare our meals.”

Ty Lee leans over and pulls on the rope, but no one comes.  They sit there for a moment before The acrobat pulls it again, but still, no one appears.  Azula sits up.  “Am I supposed to fetch my own servant now,” she sneers.

Mai gets to her feet, “I’ll see what’s going on.”  She turns to leave but a servant slips through the door before she can investigate.

“My apologies, Princess,” the servant stutters.  “The spirit has requested our assistance, but I came as soon-.”

“What,” she says, “did you say?”

“T-the spirit,” the girl stutters.  “He requested our help packing.”

Azula turns to the table and pushes through the documents with a sweep of her hand.  Her eyes rove over the text, skipping over the old legends spread beneath her, and catches what’s missing.

The map.

She huffs a small breath of fire before pivoting for the door.  She ignores Ty Lee’s calls and marches out of the room.  It doesn’t take her long to reach Donnie’s quarters.  The vehicle is small to maintain speed so she’s pushing her way into his room in less than a minute.  The servants slow at her appearance but don’t stop moving around the small room.  Donnie stands in the middle with his head buried in the map.

“What are you doing?”

Donnie continues to check the map while the servants pack him a small bag.  “I’m going to check out Gaoling.”

She frowns, “I thought we decided it was a dead end.”

“You decided,” he says.  “I need to check if Raph is there.”

“Our intel said the Avatar was near that town a few days ago,” she says.  “You don’t think your brother found him?”

“That’s why we double-check,” he answers.  “We don’t know for sure if the Avatar even went into town.  They could’ve missed each other.”

“Or this Raphael is traveling with them now,” she retorts. 

He grabs a small set of tools and passes them to a servant.  “Then you can tell me all about it when I get back.  Assuming you find them.”

“I will find them.” 

“Great, so what are we arguing about?”

Azula takes a deep breath and lifts a hand.  The servants stop immediately and Donnie finally looks at her.  “You can’t leave now,” she says.  “We’ve just caught a reliable trail.”  The words almost get caught in her throat but she spits them out.  “I might…need your assistance.”

“That’s new,” he says, “and I wish you the best, but I was never going to help with that anyway.”

She rears at this and takes a step back.  She looks at him, face open, and tries to get her expression under control, but the spirit already sighs at whatever he sees.  “Azula, I was never going to actively help you catch the kid.  You know this.”

“Little impact,” she mutters.  He did say that.  “What if I need you?”

He turns back to his bag with a snort.  “Obviously if they try to kill you then I’m going to step in, but that’s about it.”

“How will you do that if you’re not here?”

“It’s only two days, three and a half if you count the time to come back,” he grabs food from a frozen servants trembling grip and drops it in the bag.  “I think you’ll survive.”  He pulls the drawstring tight and hoists the small bag over his shell.  “See you.” 

Azula can only watch as the spirit walks towards her.  He’s not going to leave, she thinks, he still needs her resources.  This is a threat, a bluff.  Donnie wants her to stop him so she’ll cave to his unreasonable demands.  She straightens her shoulders as he gets closer.  He doesn’t know her well enough if he thinks this little act will get her to bend.  

He walks right past her.

Time seems to stop before she moves.  Azula turns for the open door and Donnie’s already halfway down the small hallway.  He can’t really be leaving, not now.  Not when she’s close to capturing the Avatar.

Succeed.

Azula moves before she can think.  She’s catching up to him and suddenly she’s furious.  No one says no to her.  She reaches out, fingers just brushing the cool metal of his shell when it happens.  The spirit spins and wraps a bone-crushing hold around her wrist in instant.  She sucks in a breath at the power behind the touch and looks into the livid eyes of the spirit.  

“Don’t,” he says, and Azula flashes back to the ship and a sharp threat, “touch my shell.  Ever.”

Her jaw ticks and she heats up the skin of her wrist.  The spirit's face stays still at the heat, but she feels his fingers twitch against her skin.  “All this,” she hisses, “for a brother that might not be there.”

“He’s my brother,” he says and his voice is cold.  “I don’t expect you to understand.”

She doesn’t react, she can’t react.  Azula won’t give him the satisfaction.

The spirit drops her arm and turns away from her without another word.  She watches him go and fire leaks from her mouth.  How dare he, how dare he, how dare HE!

She pivots and sinks a wild and enflamed fist into the steel walls surrounding her.  It doesn’t break, she didn’t expect it to, but her skin does.  The sight of red against her knuckles has her straightening.  She shakes her hand, not caring where the blood falls, and pulls herself back together.  Azula follows after the spirit and finds him on the small observation deck.

They don’t speak, there’s no reason to.  Donnie takes one last look at the map before putting it away.  The spirit spins his staff and the weapon expands in brilliant purple.  A giant hammer shape takes up one end of the weapon with unnatural purple fire spewing from it.  The spirit jumps on the bulk of the shape and sails slowly through the air.  “I’ll see you in a few days.”

Azula makes a face at his voice.  “Why aren’t you flying?”

“I need to start thinking long-term,” he answers, “I can’t keep wasting resources.”

She frowns at the cryptic response but Donnie doesn’t elaborate.  He brings two fingers against his forehead in a lazy salute and Azula burns at the insult.  He takes off in a burst of purple that sends him soaring through the sky.  She watches until he’s nothing but a distant memory before turning back for the interior.  

Sokka 

It’s a few days after they leave Gaoling that Sokka finally pulls out his maps.  They’ve been flying without any true direction since they recruited Toph.  Their plan up until now has been to find Aang an earthbending teacher and now that it’s done, they’re lost.  Aimless.  They can’t keep going like this.  Sure, helping quirky towns in quirky situations is fun, but they have a war to stop with a very specific deadline.  Sokka looks up at the sun and tries to calculate how much distance they’ve covered since leaving Gaoling.  He loves Appa just as much as the next person, but all this flying is really messing with his sense of distance.

“I think we should head to Ba Sing Se.”

Katara looks up from his shirt with a hum.  She’s been mending the rips and tears in their clothes for the last hour and Sokka sends her a silent thanks.  “Why?”

“They’re the last stronghold against the Fire Nation, so their army must be big.  Plus, it’ll be a safe place for Aang to train.”

“What will be a safe place for me?”

Sokka looks up as Toph and Aang come back to camp.  “Ba Sing Se,” he repeats.

“Oh!” Aang grins, “I’ve never been to Ba Sing Se.”

“It’s the Earth Kingdom's last line of defense,” Sokka says. “Possibly the world's biggest army outside of the Fire Nation.”  He frowns down at the map, “I just wish we weren’t coming empty-handed.”

Katara sets the needle down.  “Empty-handed?  We’re bringing them the Avatar.”

“I know, I know,” Sokka says.  “I just wish we had more intel on the enemy, that’s all.”  The Avatar’s great and everything, but what good is a trained Avatar when they don’t even know where the Fire Lord is?  He knows Katara believes in Aang, and he believes in Aang, but they can’t stop this war without an army and a plan.

There’s a shift behind them.  “You’re back,” Leo yawns.  “How was training?”

Sokka lowers the map and feels a growing excitement building under his skin at the spirit's voice.  Leo’s done nothing but sleep since Raph and Toph joined, which regrettably meant no sword practice for the last few days.  The spirit sits up with a stretch and another big yawn before getting to his feet.

“Terrible,” Toph says.  “Twinkletoes here can’t even move a pebble.” 

“I’m doing my best!” Aang protests.  “I’m just having a hard time feeling the element.”

“Don’t worry about it, Aang,” Raph says.  “You’ll get there.  It’s only been a few days.”

The Avatar smiles and Sokka tries not to roll his eyes.  It’s like looking at another Katara.  If you squint, twist….and stand upside down.  The spirit’s not anything like he expected.  The guy crashed before them in a wave of crackling spiritual power for spirit's sake!  He expected something mean.  Something rough.  The red headband didn’t help his perception either.  

“What he said,” Leo says.  The spirit stops and drops to a crouch beside him.  “You up for some-.”

“Yes!” Sokka shouts, “I mean, sure.  If you’re up for it.”

Leo drops his head with a laugh and pops to his feet.  “Come one.  I think it’s time to put an actual blade in your hand.”

Sokka’s jaw drops.  A sword.  A real sword.  He turns to Katara, incredulous and mouth open before turning to the spirit.  “Yes!” He jumps to his feet.  “What are we waiting for!”

“What’re you teaching him for anyway?” Toph says.  “It’s not like he’s a bender.”

His excitement flags a bit.  It always comes back to that outside of the South.  Bending, bending, and more bending.  It never mattered in the South.  They were all non-benders, all hunters, but out here?

He’s never felt more useless.

“So what?” Leo frowns.  “Is he supposed to just sit there and be protected?”

“Pretty much,” she smirks.

“You didn’t.”

Her face drops into something furious and Toph’s on her feet in the next second.  “I don’t need protecting!”

“And neither does he,” Leo says.  “Sokka doesn’t need magic powers to protect himself.”  The spirit drops an arm across his shoulders.  “Let's start those drills, slowly.  Besides, I think Toph has more important things to focus on.  Like how she’s a terrible teacher.”

“He’s a terrible student!”

“Hey!” 

Leo leans in close to the earthbender but she doesn’t budge.  “Are those excuses I hear?” he grins.  “I thought you were the ‘world's greatest earthbender’?” 

Toph glares at Leo before stomping the ground hard.  A rock rises beneath Aang’s prone form and sends the airbender flying with an audible ‘oof’.  “Get up, Twinkletoes!  We aren’t stopping until you feel every pebble in a five-mile radius!”

“But we just finished!”  Aang cries, but Toph’s already burying a fist into the fabric of his poncho.  She drags the protesting airbender back into the woods. 

Sokka blinks at their disappearing forms.

“Now,” Leo smiles, “about those drills.”

Sokka stumbles back into camp with a groan and collapses next to the fire.  Training was grueling.  It’s like Leo woke up and decided to make up for missing the last few days.  Even his toenails hurt.  How is that even physically possible?

“Sokka,” Katara says.  “How was it?”

He just mumbles into the dirt.  There’s nothing he can say about it other than how difficult and cruel it was.

Sokka can’t wait to do it again.

He turns his head with a wince and looks at his hand.  He held a sword today.  A real sword.  Sure, it was sheathed and he didn’t really swing it at anyone, but he held it.  Sokka curls his fingers and remembers the weight of the blade.  It was heavier than he thought it would be, but when he got in his stance, he felt balanced.  He knew how to use it.  How to lower his palm for defense and when shift his grip to something offensive.  It was so similar yet worlds away from handling a stick.   

“That bad, huh?”

Sokko sits up with a hiss and looks at Aang.  The kid is covered in dirt and frowning into the fire.  “You could say that,” he answers.  “How about you, did you feel any pebbles?”

“I felt something,” Aang mutters.

Sokka snorts at the kid and looks around camp.  Leo and Raph have wandered off a bit but Toph is nowhere to be seen.  “Where’s Toph?”

A pan bangs over the fire and Sokka jumps.  “ Toph’s already collected and eaten her own food,” Katara growls.  “She didn’t even help Raph and I set up camp!”  Katara drops the meat into the sizzling oil.  “I’m already set,” Katara mimics, “can you believe her!”

“That’s,” he starts, “crazy.  So, where is the little earthbender?”

“She’s behind that rock in her handmade tent,” Katara huffs. 

“You shouldn’t take it personally,” Aang says.  “We’ve only been with each other for a few days.  We’re still getting used to one another.”

Katara lets out a massive sigh.  “You’re right, Aang.  She probably just needs time to adjust.  Let’s just eat and get some sleep.  It’s been a long day.”

Sokka couldn’t agree more.  He just wants to eat, eat some more, then get some sleep.  The rest of the evening passes with little fanfare and Raph brings a sleeping Leo back to camp just as the sun starts to set.  Sokka forces his muscles to move so he can follow the spirit's lead.  He slips into his sleeping back with a content sigh.  His belly is full, the night is cool and Sokka’s ready to catch the best sleep of his life.

Less than an hour later Toph wakes them all up with a warning of an approaching avalanche.  Sokka turns back in the saddle as they take off.  He doesn’t see any snow, but there’s an ominous cloud of soot following them in the distance.

Toph

She’s just closing her eyes for some well-deserved sleep when she feels the irritating rumble of steel against earth beneath her fingertips.  Toph cracks the ground with a powerful punch when she’s pulled out of sleep for the fourth time that night.  “It’s back!”

“That’s not possible!” Aang shouts.  “They can’t have followed us all the way up here.”

“Well they did,” Leo says, “I can see the smoke.”

“I’m starting to think I should just smash the thing,” Raph grumbles.  “Forget the pacifist route.”  

Toph feels Sokka stagger to his feet with his sleeping bag under his arm.  “I’m starting to agree with big red over here.”

“We can’t, Sokka,” Aang yawns.  He disappears from her senses with a soft puff of air.  “We need to get going.”

They move quickly and Toph crawls up the bison's tale as fast as she can.  She grips the beast's fur and wills herself to get used to the motion.  Toph shakes out a hand, whisps of hair flowing from her fings before flipping over the lip of the saddle.  She hooks her arms immediately into the holes and prepares for the ride.  

“Yip yip.”

Appa lets out a weak roar before lifting shakingly into the air.  

“Try to get us a good distance away this time,” Sokka grumbles, “We’re running on fumes here.”

“He’s trying,” Aang snaps.  “Appa’s tired too.”

“Maybe he wouldn’t be if he’d go through a portal,” Leo mutters and Toph grudgingly agrees.  

They tried that the second time the tank found them.  Leo had jumped to the front of the bison and pulled a portal into existence that swallowed the bison whole.  She couldn’t see anything, but she could definitely feel it.  It was like a constant zap of static shock running over her skin.  It freaked her out, but it terrified Appa.  The Bison nearly fell out of the sky in panic when the world changed from uncomfortably electric back to normal night.  They landed immediately, and Appa whined for the next hour while they were trying to sleep.

They attempted the portal again when the tank came up a hill the third time, but Appa avoided each attempt like the plague.  His frantic flying wasn’t comfortable for anyone either.  

“Who do you think it is?” Sokka yawns.

“It could be Zuko,” Katara answers, “We haven’t seen him since the North.”

“I don’t think so,” Sokka says.  “This feels a little too sophisticated for him.”

“Are you sure?” Raph asks.  “Isn’t he like royalty?  This type of annoying torture seems on brand for them.”

“Not Zuko,” Sokka says. “I don’t like the guy, but he’s nothing if not predictable.  This isn’t his style.”

“I bet Mikey’s sleeping right now,” Leo sighs.  “On a feather pillow after enjoying a high-quality meal.”

“My cooking’s fine,” Katara snaps.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t, but it’s not!”

“You,” Katara squawks, “You haven’t cooked a single thing since-!”

“Stop fighting!” Aang yells.  “Just-,” he pulls in a breath, “-we’re tired.  We’re not really angry with each other.”

Toph snorts.  Yeah right, and she can see.

“It could be those three girls from Omashu,” Sokka tries.  “Didn’t one call the other a Princess?”

She tightens her grip on the saddle and clenches her jaw.  They’re talking about adventures from before her.  Again.  That’s all they seem to do, they just sit around a campfire all day and retell the same stories.  It’s why she stays away at night.  There’s no point in her joining in.  It’s not like she can add anything to the conversation anyway.

“I hope not,” Katara says, “one of those girls did something that took my bending away.”  

“The horror,” Sokka huffs.

The conversation lulls and Toph feels her eyes droop at the silence.  She’s just going to close her eyes for a second, maybe even until they land.  She needs the sleep, they all do.  The warming air finally pulls her under into a dream full of sound.  There are familiar voices, some new and annoying, but there’s a big one that shouts in distance.  She can’t get away from it no matter how fast she runs.  The gravity suddenly shifts and she’s falling.  The voices turn to screams and Toph wakes with a gasp and reflexively tightens her hold around the saddle.

The air moves around her in a desperate attempt to pull her completely off the bison and her heart stutters in her chest.  “What’s going on!?”

“It’s Appa,” Aang shouts.  “He’s asleep!”

“What do we do?”

“Leo!” Sokka shouts, “A portal would be helpful!”

“Not at this speed!” Leo shouts, “Aang!! You have to wake him up!”

The voices morph into chaotic noise around her and she can’t focus.  Her breath comes out in frantic puffs and the wind keeps stealing them.  Her hand slips and she pulls forward with a shout.  How long has she been falling?  She can’t tell, she can’t see.   “RAPH!”

The shouting increases in pitch as the bison continues to fall and a faint crash sounds in the distance.  Is it the tank?  It can’t be, not now.  They’ll be easy pickings if they survive this free fall.  

“I gotcha!” Raph’s voice echoes before everything stops.  

Toph lands hard against the leather at the sudden change in direction.  Everything stops, even the birds fly away in silence.  “What happened!?”

“R-Raph,” Sokka stutters.  “He caught us.”

Toph just blinks in the direction of the boy's voice.  She knows about Raph and his spirit mumbo jumbo, she’s even fought against it, but this is different.  This feels different.  He caught Appa.  The bison’s a couple of tons, easy.  “Whoa,” she says, “maybe we should let you smash the tank.”

There’s a loud echoey laugh before they’re moving again.  Raph sets the sleeping animal against the grass and Toph slides off it immediately.  She digs her toes into the ground and lets her shoulders drop as the world opens back to her.  She can finally see.  

“Appa’s exhausted,” Aang says.  His feet hit the ground and Toph gets a clear picture of his drooping figure.  “We need to sleep.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice.  Toph’s already falling forward and sinking into delicious unmovable earth.

“We’ve put a lot of space between us and those possibly crazy girls,” Sokka says.  “So yeah, let's follow Appa’s lead.”

“We probably would’ve gotten more sleep last time if Toph didn’t have such issues.”

She snaps.  “ME!” Toph digs her fingers so deep into the ground that her nails split.  “Are you blaming me?!”

“Toph,” Raph starts, “let it go.”

“No!  I wanna hear what she has to say!”

A bag lands hard on the ground.  “If you helped me and Raph earlier then maybe we could have set up camp faster, and maybe gotten some SLEEP!”

“I carry my own weight around here!” she hisses.  “I don’t ask you guys for anything!”  She’ll never ask anyone for anything.  She can take care of herself.  “If there’s anyone to blame it’s shedy over here!”

Aang sits up, “Wait, are you blaming Appa?”

She throws her hands up.  “Yes!  You want to know how they keep finding us!”  She sinks a hand into the bison's fur and pulls out a handful of loose strands.  “He’s leaving a trail everywhere we go!”

Aang walks towards her, his heart pounding, but she doesn’t move.  “How dare you blame Appa!  He saved your life four times today!”

Leo snorts, “If he would fly through the stupid portal then it might have only been three.”

Toph turns to the spirit in shock.  He hasn’t said a nice word to her this entire trip and now he’s on her side.  She digs her fingers into her palms.  What, does he think she can’t take twinkletoes if he wants to brawl?  She could take Aang anyday!  She doesn’t need string beans help.

“You’re blaming Appa now too!”

“YES!” Leo shouts.  “Toph’s right!  How did we not see it?  He leaves a literal puddle of hair every time we land.”

“Because he’s busy carrying all of you!”  Aang yells.  “Appa carrying everyone’s weight!”

“Ok,” Raph says, “let’s take it easy-.”

“No!” Aang interrupts.  “Appa never had a problem carrying our weight when it was just the four of us!

“Don’t yell at my brother!” Leo barks.  “He’s been nothing but positive this whole trip!”

“Yeah,” Aang says, “and heavy.  Everything was fine when it was just us!”

Just like that, all the anger drains from her frame.  There it is.  They don’t want her here, they don’t like her.  Well, Toph’s not going hang around like some loser when she’s not wanted.  She turns from them without a word and launches her bag in the air with a single kick.  She catches it and heads for the woods.  “I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“So you’re just going to walk away?” Katara scoffs.

“Yep,” she pops.  She gave up everything, her home, for this?  She’s better off exploring the world by herself.  

Sokka steps in front of her with his arms out wide.  “Wait, don’t go.”

Toph moves him to the side with a simple quick.  She doesn’t want to hear how desperately the Avatar needs a teacher.  He can find another earthbender.  There are probably millions on the stupid continent.

“Toph,” Raph calls, “you can’t just leave!”

“Watch me!” 

“Toph!”

She brings her arms up, pulling a thick wall of earth between her and the approaching spirit before she lets herself sink into the ground.  Toph stays under, moving with her element until she can’t feel a single echo of them.  She pushes herself from the earth and continues walking.  The nerve of them to beg her to leave with them, and then complain when she doesn’t need them waiting on her hand and foot.  Aang wants to yell about their little foursome, then Katara shouldn’t even need Toph's help to unpack.  According to airboy they’ve been doing just fine without her.

Toph pauses for a moment, listening intently, but there aren’t any familiar thumps coming after her.  Her shoulders fall.  She knew he wouldn’t pick her over his brothers.  They’re family.  

It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.

She lets out a small huff.  She just needs to find a town and go from there.  Maybe she’ll look for another Rumble, those are always fun.  Toph’s turning when she feels it, a flicker of movement too big to be an animal to her left.  She digs in her heels and feels out the shape of a man.  Toph moves, twisting to the side and sliding a foot against the ground.  A trail of moving rock hits the hidden man hard in the back.  There’s a shout, and Toph brings her hands up for a fight, but the man just lets out a groan.  She lets herself feel him out, reads his vibrations and the slight hum of his heart, and her stomach drops.  It’s an old man.  Shoot.

“Sorry,” she says, “I thought you were someone else.”

“It’s ok,” the man chuckles, but he gets up stiffly.  “You can never be too careful.”

He stumbles a little and Toph heads over to help him.  Great.  First, she fights with the Avatar and now she’s maiming old people.  This day can’t get any worse.  She gets close and shoves an arm in his direction.  “Here.”

“Why, thank you.”

A weathered but firm hand settles against her forearm.  “Would you mind walking this old man to the ledge and sharing a cup of tea?  The sun will be setting soon and I would love to see the view.”

“Sure.”  It’s the least she can do.  She walks him slowly, feeling out the edge, before settling in the middle of the small cliff.  

He pats her arm gently before moving around the small area.  He gathers a small pile of rocks and Toph walks off to get some firewood.  He’s pulling out a small tea set that clinks gently against her senses.  She drops the sticks and reaches to set up the fire.  

“No, no,” he says, “let me.”

She scowls and moves to sit on the opposite side of the small firepit.  Of course, what did she expect?  She sits in silence and listens to the old man set up the teapot.  He moves quickly, the motion familiar, but he hesitates on a third a cup.  Neither says anything until he holds out a warm mug.  “You seem a little young to be traveling alone.” 

She takes the cup.  “You seem a little too old.”

He laughs and picks up his own and takes a short sip of his tea.  “Perhaps I am.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” she sighs.  “I look like I can’t handle being by myself.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

She snorts, everyone thinks that.  “You wouldn’t even let me pour my own cup of tea.”

“I poured your tea because I wanted to.”

Her toe wiggle on the ground, but she can’t tell if he’s telling the truth.  She wants to believe he is.  “People look at me and think I’m weak.  Like they need to take care of me, but I’m not.  I can take care of myself, by myself.”  

“You remind me of my nephew,” he says, “he thinks he must do everything by himself, without support.  There is nothing wrong with letting the people you love help you.”  He leans forward, “Not that I love you, I just met you.”

Her cheeks puff before she lets out a small laugh.  It seems too simple when he puts it like that.  All she’s ever known from love is suffocation.  “So, where is your nephew?”

He slumps.  “I’m tracking him actually.  His life has recently changed and it’s been…hard on him, so he went away.”

She takes another sip.  “So he’s alone, and you're following him?” 

“He’s traveling with a friend,” the old man says.  “Or was. They separated some time back.”  

She hums and thinks back to the third cup the old man hesitated to pour.  “Your nephew is doing a whole lot of separating.”

The old man doesn’t laugh.  “He’s…lost.  When they separated, I expected his companion to follow him, but he went the wrong way.” He puts down the cup, “I did not anticipate that the young sp- man would be a poor tracker.”

She holds out her cup and the man pours her another serving.  Maybe it’s normal then.  Separations and reunions.  Maybe they’ll try to track her too.  She swirls the liquid before bringing it up to her lips.  “So what did you do?” Toph asks.  “You feel alone.”

“I am,” he sighs.  “I was a day behind them when I discovered that they took different paths.  You must understand, my nephew, he moves so quickly .”  

He stops there and Toph thinks she gets it but she doesn’t want to.  Everyone always chooses family.  “You picked your nephew.”  

“I had to,” he breathes.  “What if it rained?  Or if he got hurt while I was away?  I could not risk it.  I can’t lose another-.”  He turns away and Toph feels the man wipe at his face.  This nephew must really mean a lot to him.

“So what about this companion?” Toph says.  “What happened to him?”

The old man’s heart picks up.  “I do not know,” he answers.  “I’ve been leaving bread crumbs in hopes that the boy double-backed, but he has not found me yet.”

She downs the rest of the tea, so not completely abandoned.  Just lost.  She’s starting to think she might be a little lost too.  “Do you think he will?”

“I pray that he does,” the man says.  “I do not think I can live with another failure.”

Zuko

The sun starts to set when Zuko finally comes across fresh tracks.  He’s been steadily following strange one-line tracks ever since he stumbled across them that morning.   Zuko pushes the ostrich horse harder and takes in the trees ruthlessly torn down by the Fire Nation machine.  He has no doubt it’s one of theirs and judging by the white clumps hanging from broken tree branches, he has a sneaking suspicion of what they’re hunting.  Or should he say she’s hunting?

Azula’s only been in the Earth Kingdom for a few weeks and she’s already hot on the Avatar's trail.  It’s not too late, he thinks.  She hasn’t found him yet.  There would be a lot more damage to the area if she did.  Zuko looks up and pulls the animal to a stop.  There's smoke in the air, but it’s not moving.  Why?  He slips out of the saddle and moves through the forest on silent feet.  He pushes the bushes aside and takes in the tank.  It’s like nothing he’s ever seen, all sharp edges and sleek power, but it’s still.  Zuko narrows his eyes and takes in the scene.  Why would Azula stop?  A shock of white catches his attention and Zuko zeros in on the trail of white fur.

He pulls back silently and mounts the ostrich horse.  It doesn’t matter why she stopped.  What matters is the trail.  He guides the animal in the direction of the hairs.  He’ll get there and fight whoever he needs to capture the Avatar.  Then he’ll….Zuko’s not sure what he’ll do, but he’ll figure it out.  He always does.  

Maybe if Uncle were here, or Mik-.  He tightens his grip on the reins and tries not to think about them.  He doesn’t want to think about them.  He had to leave, there was no other choice.  But did you? A voice questions and he ignores it.  Uncle’s kindness and Mikey’s doubt were holding him back from the mission.  Everything seems to be holding him back.  This hunger, Mikey’s doubt, and a crumbling village with a little boy that hates him simply for what he is.

He’s starting to see that everywhere he goes. 

Zuko leans forward and squints at the broken buildings littering the landscape.  The Avatar is here.  He’s certain of it.  Zuko pushes the animal to run faster and can just make out voices.

“Do you really want to fight me?”

Azula.  He’d recognize that voice anywhere.  He pushes the Ostrich horse to run between the builds and jumps off with a roll.  He gets to his knees and takes in the Avatar and his haggard appearance before turning to his sister.  “Yes,” he says.  “I do.”

Aang

When Aang hears Zuko’s voice echo over the abandoned village he starts to think that maybe this wasn’t the best idea.  It seemed like a good one at the time, but that might have been the exhaustion talking.  Only after Toph left did they formulate some sort of plan.  They bathed Appa because despite what he said, Toph was right.  Appa was leading that crazy tank to them no matter where they landed.  So they found a nearby stream and bathed the bison of his winter coat and separated.  Aang would leave a false trail, then double back to find the others.

Simple.

He’s still unsure of why he waited for the follower to find him.  Maybe he hoped for a peaceful resolution, but that possibility gets smaller every time he encounters a firebender.  Still, Zuko’s voice was the last thing he expected to hear.  Aang’s not even sure why he’s surprised.  The prince manages to find him in the most unlikely places, including prison. 

“Zu-zu,” she says.  “What a surprise.  I was wondering where you were.” 

Aang doesn’t get a hand up in time to cover his laugh.  “Zu-zu?”

“Where’s your little spirit?” she smirks.  “Abandonded already?”

The Prince steps between them and falls deep into an unfamiliar stance.  “Where’s yours?”  He shouts.  “I guess we both aren’t as worthy as we thought.”

The girl's face morphs into something terrifying before she launches a deadly string of fire at the prince.  Aang loses track after that.  They both move so quickly, throwing scorching lines of fire at each other while still keeping pressure on Aang to keep him firmly on the ground.  He’s never fought like this before.  Zuko’s familiar, all power moving in only one direction, but Azula?  He tries to escape between two buildings, scaling up the walls with brief puffs of air, but the girl cuts through the stone with a powerful sweep of firebending.  He jumps in time to catch the crumbling edge, but Azula splits it again and he crashes with a shout.  Aang lands hard on his back and screams in pain when a heavy beam falls and pins him to the ground.  She enters the room with a smirk, hands already encased in flames.  She touches the walls beside her and Aang starts to panic as the entire room catches fire.

She’s deadly.  

Azula moves, her body flowing through the kata in a fluid motion and all Aang can do is cover his face.  The heat never comes.  Aang opens his eyes to see the girl's arm wrapped in moving water.  “Katara!”  A spark of energy runs through the building before a small blue portal opens beneath him.  Aang falls through the swirling blue with a shout and lands in a pile of debris outside the burning building.

“What happened to circling back?”

“Leo!” 

There’s a loud thud and Aang turns in time to see Azula duck below a deadly blow from Sokka’s club.  She spins away from a follow-up swing and jumps to put some distance between them.  Aang sucks in a breath at the action.  If that connected-no.  Sokka would never.

Azula continues to put some space between them before working through another stance.  There’s fire on her fingertips and she’s aiming directly at Katara.  Aang draws in a breath and readies a swing of his staff, but the ground moves under the firebender.  Azula stumbles, releasing the flames into the air without direction.  Aang stares at her fallen form before staring into the grinning face of the earthbender.  Aang doesn’t know how she found them and he doesn’t care.  She came back and that’s all that matters.

Azula looks between all five of them before pivoting, but a massive red arm lands heavily between her and the path of escape.  Azula gasps, her eyes going wide, but that’s all she does.  Aang has to give it to her, he’s pretty sure most people would fall to their knees at the sight of Raph in his full spiritual form.  Sokka steps forward with another swing and Katara follows with whip water, pushing Azula closer to a crumbling corner.  Aang spreads out, trying to widen the circle around her and Aang doesn’t even flinch when Zuko and the older man join them.  Leo and Raph stand just behind them, and Aang can just make out the hint of steel and red in his peripheral. 

Azula backs up slowly and only stops so her back doesn’t hit stone.  “Well,” she smiles.  “Would you look at this?  Enemies and traitors, all working together.”  Her eyes travel to the spirits and laughter slips from her lips.  “I told Donatello you’d be here.  I’m never wrong.”

“Neither is Donnie,” Raph says.  “Where is he?”

“Looking for you,” she answers.  Her smile drops and she lifts her hands.  “I’m done.  I know when I’ve been between.  A Princess surrenders with honor.”

Aang doesn’t lower his arms and neither does anyone else.  He won’t feel comfortable until she’s detained and they’re leaving.

“So, what,” Leo says, “do we just put her in rock handcuffs?”

In that split second, she moves.  Twisting fast, she releases a string of fire directly at the old man's heart.  The man screams, the smell of smoke and burning flesh fill the air, and everything stops.  Only when the man hits the ground does everyone move.  They all spin.  Water, fire, earth, and air move with vengeful accuracy for the princess.  A guest of wind moves past him and Aang watches as a glowing red palm follows their attack.  Azula rotates in a shield of fire and smoke before everything erupts in an immense explosion.  

The shockwave knocks Aang off his feet.  He rolls a bit before he’s stopped by a green hand.  Everything goes midnight black, the smoke taking up the entire town before Aang pushes the fumes away with a powerful breath.  He gets to his feet and forces himself to look at the corner and his jaw drops.  “She’s…gone?  But how?”  How?  No one could survive something like that.

The spirits move past him in practiced jumps.  “I’ll take the left,” Raph says.  “She couldn’t have gotten far.”  They disappear quickly into burning rubble before he can stop them.  They should leave while they can.  A cry pulls his attention and Aang’s face falls at the sight of the motionless man.

He walks toward the prince but he doesn’t know what to say.  He doesn’t know if there’s anything he can do.

“Get away from us!”

Katara steps forward, her hands already on her water sack.  “Zuko, please.  I can help.”

“LEAVE!”  Zuko throws a wave of fire their way but it doesn’t touch them.  

Aang hesitates.  He can’t leave them like this, but a hand wraps around his elbow.  “Come on, Aang,” Sokka says.  The boy pulls him and Aang finally turns away.  It’s not ideal, but they can’t risk Azula coming back.  They’re halfway out of the village when the spirits land beside them.

“That was a bust,” Leo huffs.  “I don’t know how she got out of there.  Unless firebenders can teleport now.”

“Trust me they can’t,” Sokka says.  “Although Zuko does have a habit of slipping into places he shouldn’t be.”

Katara slows.  “Do think that old man will be ok?”

“It’s not our responsibility, Katara,” Sokka sighs.  “I’m sure Zuko can handle it.”

“Wait,” Leo stops, “Zuko?  Prince Zuko?”

“Yeah,” Sokka answers, “So let’s go before he decides to hunt us down again.”

“He’s not going to, Sokka,” Aang says.  “You saw how hurt that man was,” he glances back at the town.  “I think that’s his uncle.”

Aang stops at the sound of swords sliding back into sheaths and turns to see Leo heading back to the burning town.  “What are you doing!”

“That’s Zuko!” Leo shouts, “Donnie said Mikey’s with this guy,” 

Raph pivots immediately and Aang looks at the others before following them down the hill.  “I didn’t see a spirit though!”  The brothers don’t listen, they just continue down the hill with an energy Aang is jealous of.  Did they sneak in some sleep or something?  It doesn’t take them long to return to the empty town and Aang stops in the center with a huff.

“Mikey!” Leo shouts, “Where are you, little brother!”

There’s no answer

“I said leave!”

Aang turns with Leo and zeros in on the fallen form of the prince.  He’s still curled over his uncle, but the left side of his robe has been removed.  Aang flinches at the sight of charred skin but Leo doesn’t budge.  “Where’s my brother?”

“What?”

Leo steps forward and Zuko’s on his feet in an instant.  “Stay away from us!”

Leo doesn’t listen, he keeps moving and Aang can feel the tension ramping up with each step the spirit takes.  A green hand comes up and pulls out a sword in a deadly threat.

Zuko punches, igniting the cooling air with unbearable heat, but Leo pivots around it.  The spirit gets in close, moving incredibly fast, but Zuko doesn’t back down.  Instead, the boy twists, pulling out swords of his own and spinning in a blaze of fire and steel.  Leo meets him in a clash of metal and Aang stops completely.  Aang knows Zuko is good with swords, he remembers watching the masked firebender move fluidly through the guards, but it’s something else to see two masters at work.  It’s like their dancing, weaving in and out of each other's stricks with a twist or bend.  Zuko moves with the dao like they’re an extension of himself, but Leo?  Leo moves like he was born with steel in his hands.  The spirit is a touch faster, a touch stronger and it doesn’t take three minutes for Leo to knock the weapons from the firebenders grip.

Sokka steps beside him with a heaving chest and eyes full of wonder.  “Whoa,” Sokka gasps.  “I can’t wait to do that.”

Aang nods, but Zuko doesn’t give up.  Aang’s not sure if the teenager knows how to give up.  He’s throwing punches and flames, but it’s no match for the spirit.  Zuko lands hard on his back before rolling to his knees.  Zuko brings his hands back up, but there’s a pained groan behind him and the boy's face falls.

Leo moves then and grabs the prince roughly by the arm, “Heal the old man, Katara,” he orders, but his glare never leaves Zuko.  “Where is my brother?”

“Brother?” Zuko frowns.  Aang watches the prince take the spirit in, his eyes bouncing around green skin and blue weapons.  “Wait, are you...Leo?”

“Yeah,” Raph comes up behind Leo with a hard look on his face. “So you better start talking.  Where’s Mikey?”

“I,” Zuko hesitates, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know!”

“We separated, ok!”  Zuko shouts.  The prince pulls roughly out of Leo’s grip and it’s only then that Aang gets a good look at the prince.  The intimidating figure has been replaced by something smaller and feral.  Aang takes in the hollowed cheeks, and missing topknot, and pulls in a breath.

“Did you defect from the Fire Nation?”

Everyone turns to him but the pieces are falling into place.  The prince is looking at him with wide eyes from a dirty face and Aang feels in his heart that the assertion is true.

“What?” Zuko shouts.  “No!  Why would you say that!”

“Your hair,” Aang points out.  Plus, the overall outfit.  He’s never seen Zuko in anything other than royal reds.

“So what?” Sokka huffs.  “The Prince of Evil gave himself a haircut.  What’s the big deal?”

“Fire Nation never cuts their hair after maturity,” Aang says.  “Kuzon was agonizing about what hairstyle he’d choose for his birthday.  It’s sort of an honor and for-life thing for them.”  He gestures to Zuko, “You don’t change your hair unless it’s serious.”

All eyes turn to the Fire Prince.  “I haven’t defected from the Fire Nation,” the boy glares.  “There’s been a misunderstanding.  Once Uncle and I clear our names we’ll be back in our rightful place.”

Sokka laughs.  “You want us to believe that your what, fugitives?  I’ll believe that when pigs goats fly.”

Zuko doesn’t answer but a red flush works its way up his neck before the boy turns away.  Zuko doesn’t say anything, and the pause finally brings everyone’s attention to the state of Zuko’s appearance.  To the frayed ends of a ragged rob, and to the thinness of once powerful arms.

Sokka’s jaw drops.  “Are you kidding me?!”

“Is that why you’re both so small?” Katara asks.  The glow of the water begins to fade around her hands and she pulls away from the old man.  Aang peaks at the wound and sighs in relief at the sight of unblemished skin.  “You were a lot more…built the last time we saw you.”

“We’re fine!” Zuko shouts.  “We don’t need your pity!”

“No one wants to give food to Fire Nation scum, huh?”

Zuko throws a sneer at Sokka.  “They don’t know we’re Fire Nation, idiot.  That would defeat the purpose of being in hiding.  Besides, it’s not like there’s enough food to go around here anyway.”

Sokka narrows his eyes.  “And whose fault is that?”

The air grows still at Sokka's words.  Zuko clenches his shaking fist and looks away.  “He’s not here, ok.  We separated a while ago.”

“Yeah, that’s not good enough,” Leo scowls.  “Did you separate before or after you got kicked out?”

“I wasn’t kicked out!”

Red dances down Raphs arms.  “Answer the question.”

Zuko stops short at the tone.  “After,” he answers.  Zuko's jaw works before turning to face Leo fully.  “We got into a fight and we separated.”

Raph steps forward and the electricity takes a distinctive shape around his arms.  “You’re gonna have to do better than that, kid.  Mikey doesn’t just ‘leave’ after fights.”

Zuko doesn’t say anything for a long time.  Aang shifts as the air around them seem to literally spark with energy.  He doesn’t know Raph well enough yet to judge, but Leo’s angry, angrier than anything Aang’s ever seen.  He hopes it doesn’t come to blow again.  He’s so tired of fighting.

“I left,” Zuko’s voice is steady and Aang commends him silently for his bravery.  Aang’s not sure he could manage an even answer at the clear threat of violence in the air.   “We got into an argument and I left.  I haven’t seen him in over a week.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

Leo has Zuko on his back with a foot to his chest and a blade to his throat before anyone can move.  “Where.”  Leo’s voice is sharp and quiet, and it sends a chill down Aang’s spine.  Leo’s not yelling but there’s a promise in his tone.  A deadly one.

“Leo-,”

“No, Aang,” Leo says, “Not about this,” the spirit angles his sword, and a single drop of blood slides down the metal.  “Where did you leave him.”

“Wait,” Toph says.  She shifts, turning her body in the opposite direction.  She lifts a hand and points towards an empty alley.  “Someone’s coming.”

Aang’s heart drops.  It’s Azula.  It has to be.  They’ve wasted too much time here.  They have to leave.  Now.

“STOP!”

The voice is too low in pitch to be Azula, but Aang doesn’t drop his hands.  A small form staggers from between the desolate buildings, “Wait!  Don’t hurt him!”

Aang watches the stranger come closer.  He’s covered head to toe in Earth Kingdom rags with a familiar set of black wrapping on his arms.  The stranger pulls the scarf loose and Aang blinks at the round green face that greets him.  Aang’s starting to realize that the brothers don’t resemble each other, but this one looks different.  Younger.   

“Mikey!” twin voices fill the air before Leo and Raph race past him.  They collapse around the small figure and Aang marvels at the difference in size.  This spirit is smaller, smaller than all three, and explodes in a pop of color as more rags fall away.  His bandana is dirty but Aang’s breath catches at the air bright orange painted across his face.

“Mikey,” Leo says.  He’s squeezing the smaller turtle hard and Raph’s not helping.  “I’m so glad to see you!  When this jerk said he left you I-,”  Leo pulls in a breath and his hands come up to cup the smaller turtle's face.  “What happened?  Why are so small?”

“Food is pretty hard to come by on the road,” Mikey smiles,  “Especially for three.  We’ve had to make due.”

“You’re starving,” Raph growls.  Raph turns back to Zuko and takes a step, “What happened?  You’re supposed to keep him safe!”

“I’m fine Raph,” Mikey says.  “It’s been…hard on all of us.”  

Leo pulls the small turtle in for another hug.  “We’re just glad to see you, little brother.  How did you find us?  He said he abandoned you!”

“It’s a long story,” Mikey answers, “but after I double-backed he was really easy to track.  He practically sketched directions everywhere he went.”  The turtle winces and shakes out an arm, and Raph’s brow furrows at the action.

“What’s wrong?  Are you hurt?”

“I shouldn’t be,” Mikey frowns.  He pulls back his bandings and the brothers immediately tense.  Aang leans forward to look at his exposed forearm.  There are jagged humming scars running down the length of the spirit's arm.  The scars glow a wavering gold, the light pulsing in tandem with a strange symbol in the middle of his wrist.

Leo rips his bandages off and exposes a symbol of his own.  His is glowing brighter than what Aang remembers, but nowhere near the smaller turtles.  “Mine isn’t doing that.  Why is yours doing that?  Raph!  Is yours doing that?”

Raph shakes his head and frowns at his own mark.  “No, it’s not.”

“Your scars shouldn’t be glowing,” Leo hisses.  “I knew I should have dragged Donnie with me!”

“Cracks,” Mikey mumbles before looking up.  “Wait, you guys ran into Donnie!  Is he still running with Azula?”

“Who?”

“Zuko’s sister.”

Sokka shoves into the semi-circle.  “ That was Zuko’s sister?  Is the whole family crazy?!”

“I ran into him,” Leo answers.  “He’s staying behind to investigate this-,” he indicates to their arms, “-whole situation.”  Leo reaches out and gently grabs the smaller spirit's arm.  His fingers hover over the glowing scars but he doesn’t touch them.  “Do they hurt?”

Mikey pulls his arm out of Leo’s grip. “Kind of,” Mikey winces.  “It’s weird, like a tingly full feeling.  It’s uncomfortable that's for sure.”

“We’ll have Katara look at it,” Leo decides.  “C’mon, let's get out of here.”

“Great!” Mikey grins.  “Let me get Zuks and Iroh.”

“What-.”

“Zuks,” Toph snorts.

“No way!” Sokka says.  “Zuko’s not coming with us.  He’s hunting Aang!”

“Aang?” Mikey frowns before his face lights up.  “The Avatar!” he turns to Aang.  “ You’re the Avatar?”

“Yep,” he laughs.  “That’s me.”

“Whoa,” the spirit stares.  “Zuko will not shut up about you!  It’s crazy that I’m meeting you right now.  I gotta say, I’m a big fan of the orange!”

“Yeah,” Sokka snorts, “the guy’s obsessed.”

Mikey's face falls into something soft, “He just wants to go home.”

“What?”

“We’re getting off track,” Raph interrupts.  “I’m sorry Mikey.  It’s a no-go on Zuko.”

Aang watches the smaller spirit's face fall before he pulls back his shoulders.  “Then I’m not going either.”

“What!”  Leo screams.  “Why?  This guy left you.  Screw him!”

“Zuko’s a good guy, Leo,” Mikey says.  “He’s just…lost.  I think I can help him.”

“You can’t help everyone, Mikey,” Raph says. 

“I can at least try,” Mikey pushes, “Everyone deserves a second chance.”  Aang turns and takes in this spirit for what feels like the first time.  A second chance.  Aang thinks back to an unfeeling face who left a village alone once Aang agreed to leave with him.  Thinks about a cold cell and a silent mask.  He looks at Zuko now, covered in Earth Kingdom browns and suffering from the ill his people inflected on this land, and thinks. 

“I’m putting my foot down on this, Mikey,” Raph says.  “You need to come with us.  We don’t have time to-to gamble on the good in this guy!”

“You don’t,” Mikey says, “but I do.  I have a foot to Raph.  I’m staying with Zuko.”

“Fine,” Leo sighs.  “He can ride with us, you happy?”

A grin starts to tug at the smaller turtle's face when Sokka steps in.  “That’s going to be a hard no for us.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Sokka frowns.  “Zuko’s not coming with us.”

“He has to,” Leo says.  “Mikey won’t come without him.”

Sokka straights.  “Then your brother needs to make a choice.  Either he leaves, without Zuko, or he stays with him and we leave.”

Leo narrows his eyes.  “Are you giving him an ultimatum?”

“Yes,” Sokka says.  “Look, he can see the good in Zuko all he wants, but until that good is outside of him then I don’t trust him.”

“If something happens, we’ll handle it,” Raph promises.

“See, that’s not going to work either,” Sokka scowls.  “He’s not getting on the bison.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?” Leo demands.  “I can take this kid if he starts any problems!”

“Trusting you isn’t the issue,” Sokka shouts and Aang blinks.  “I don’t trust him .  He’s chased us all over the world.  He attacked my village, He kidnapped my sister, and now you just want me to forget that on the off chance that he’s lost!?”

“Sokka-.”

“No,” Sokka interrupts.  “We have a history with this guy.  A bad history.  Zuko’s not getting on Appa and that’s final.”

Leo clenches his jaw.  “Then we’re staying here.”

“You can’t!” Aang cries.  Leo can’t leave, he promised.   “You said you’d get me to the King.  You promised!”

“I guess we’re at an impasse.” 

“You’d really leave us,” Sokka’s voice is thick and his face thunderous.  “For him.”

“We’re not leaving for Princey over there,” Raph answers.  “We’re staying for Mikey.”

“If Ponytail is staying then so am I!”

“Toph!”

“You can’t!” Katara yells.  “You have to teach Aang.  Don’t you see?  Zuko’s already tearing us apart!”

A sharp, short whistle cuts through the growing argument.  “No one’s tearing anyone apart,” Mikey says.  “I’m staying with Zuko.  Just me.”  The turtle hisses and gives his arm a sharp shake.  “Geez, this is killing me right now.”

“We’re not leaving you,” Leo says.  “It’s not up for discussion.”

“It actually is, Leo,” Mikey frowns.  “I’m not a little kid anymore.  You can’t just tell me what to do anymore.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Raph asks, “You’re talking about separating.  Again!”

“Only for a short time!” Mikey argues.  “Zuko just needs time.  Who knows, he might even be the Avatar's fire teacher!”

Sokka lets out a loud “HA!” but Aang looks thoughtfully at the firebender.  Zuko’s obviously listening, and he’s doing an awful job pretending not to.  Aang had the same thought all those weeks ago when Zuko rescued him from Zhao.  The attack on the North changed things, it changed everything, but Aang can’t let go of a small nugget of hope.  “I think Mikey should stay.”

“You don’t think anything,” Leo says.  “Mikey, we can’t leave you.  We just found you.” 

“It’s not going to be forever, Leo,” Mikey says.  “I think it might be for the best thing right now anyway.  My mark-thingy didn’t start hurting until I met up with you guys.”

“Did it do that with Donnie?”

“No,” Mikey says.  “It didn’t.”

The group stands in silence and no one move but the spirits.  They don’t speak, but the shifting of eye ridges and pulling of mouths lets Aang know that he’s missing out on an entire conversation.  “Ba Sing Se,” Leo says, “that’s where we’re headed.”

“Leo,” Sokka hisses, but the spirit just holds up a hand. 

“If he’s not rehabilitated when you get there then that’s it,” Leo says.  “You dump campfire over there and team up with us, got it.”

Mikey grins, “Got it.”

“Good,” Raph says, “Leo and I are gonna talk to Zuko real quick then we’ll be on our way.”

Leo cracks his knuckles.  “Yeah, a quick huddle if you will.”

The spirits heads for Zuko and Aang reaches for Leo.  Despite what Zuko’s done, they can’t hurt him.  The firebender hasn’t raised a hand against them since they started arguing.  He doesn’t deserve to be hurt now.  He’s stopped when a scaled arm drops across his shoulder and Aang stares up at this new turtle spirit.

“So,” Mikey grins.  “What’s everyone’s name?  How’s the adventure going?”

Aang blinks and feels a smile grow at the spirit’s positive attitude.  “I’m Aang.  That’s Sokka, and Katara’s my waterbender teacher.”  Katara gives a small bow and pulls Sooka down with her.  “And this is Toph!  She’s new but she’s a really good earthbender.”

The girl rolls something between her fingers before flicking it away.  “Sup.”

“Man, how cool is it that you guys can control elements,” Mikey grins.  “I can’t wait to see it.  I’ve only seen fire.  Hey, can you fly with air?”

“I can with my staff.”  Aang brightens and digs through his pockets.  “Check this out,” he whips the marbles out and pushes two small currents between his hands.  The marbles spin around each other and gain speed the more Aang pushes air around them.  He grins and peaks to find the spirit grinning just as wildly.

“That’s so cool!”  Mike shouts.  “You guys are so lucky!  I mean, mystic powers are awesome, but bending looks like so much fun!  Hey, how high can you jump?  I bet you catch some sick height with that air of yours.”

Aang blushes.  “I haven’t measured it, but I can get pretty high.”

“I can clear thirty feet easily,” the spirit boasts, “I bet I can jump higher than you.”

Aaang grins.  “You’re on!”

Mikey bounces away with a stretch.  “On three.”

Aang looks at the other before moving closer to the spirit with a grin.  “One.” 

Mikey crouches, “Two.”

“THREE!”

Aang pulls the surrounding air beneath his arms and feet and pushes off the ground a second after the spirit.  He grins as Mikey continues to gain height from pure strength alone, but Aang passes him in the end.  Clearing another ten feet, easy.  Aang spins in the air with a grin and looks down at Mikey.  The spirit lets out a whoop of laughter before leaning back when gravity reaches for him.  Aang can go hirer, he knows he can, but he lets gravity wrap around him and falls to the ground with Mikey.  He laughs.  The wind blows through his poncho and the spirit twists through the air without a hint of fear and it’s like he’s back home.  Jumping off the side of the temple with airbenders in an exhilarating game of chicken.  

Mikey folds into himself and absorbs the impact with a powerful crouch and Aang lands gently beside him with a grin.  

“Mikey!” Leo shouts.  “What are you doing!?”

“Relax Leo,” Mikey says.  “Are you done threatening Zuko?”

“We didn’t threaten him,” Raph answers.  “We promised him pain.”

“Wow,” Toph laughs.  “I like you angry Ponytail.”

“This has been fun,” Sokka cuts in, “but we should get going before his sister shows back up.”

Aang frowns at the thought.  She got away this time, but she could be coming back for them now.  She seems persistent if this chase was anything to go by.  “Sokka’s right,” he says.  “We’ve got to go.”  He turns to Mikey and bows with his hands in the air symbol.  “It was an honor to meet you, Mikey.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Aang,” Mikey smiles.  The spirit turns to his brothers with open arms and they fold around him like pieces to a puzzle.  “I’m going to be ok, guys.  I promise.”

“I’m sick of leaving brothers behind,” Leo mumbles.

“You’re not leaving me behind,” Mikey corrects.  “Just think of it like another mission.  We separate for those all the time.”

“Yeah, but we could call you,” Raph says.  “Just-stay safe, Mikey.”

“Same goes for you guys,” Mikey says.  “You’re traveling with the Avatar.  There’s gotta be a ton of people on your tail.”

“Not as many as you would think,” Sokka interjects.  “It’s usually just that guy over there and Zhao.”

Mikey huffs and pulls away from the hug.  “Zuko’s not going to be a problem.  There’s a warm center of good under that hard exterior.”

Sokka raises an eyebrow.  “Right.”

Mikey pulls away from his brothers with a squeeze and a shake of his hand.  He looks down at his still glowing scars.  “I’ll see you later guys.  Let me help Zuko before he decides he can drag Iroh across the desert by himself.”

“I don’t need any help!”

Mikey grins at the shout before walking away.

“Wait!” Raph shouts.  The spirit digs through his pouch and pulls out a hefty bag.  “Here.  This is money the Beifongs gave me.”  Raph sets the bag in Mikey’s hand.  “Take it.  You need to start eating properly.”

“I will.”

“And tell Zuko to relay the message to his Uncle,” Leo calls.  

“Got it!”

“And-.”

“Guys,” Mikey smiles.  “I’ll see you in Ba Sing Se.”

Aang watches Mikey stand next to Zuko before dropping into a sitting position.  Mike might do it, he thinks.  Maybe all Zuko needs is someone willing to reach out.  Aang hopes it works, he could do with fewer enemies.  

A hand lands on his shoulder.  “Let’s go,” Sokka says.

“Yeah,” he says.  He turns with the group but can’t help sneaking glances at the smaller spirit.  It was only a few minutes but Mikey was different.  Fun.  He wishes they didn’t have to separate.

“Don’t worry, Aang,” Katara says.  “We’ll see him again.”

He smiles.  “I know.”

They’re almost out of earshot when he hears it.  A soft voice from a rough and familiar throat that Aang can hardly believe it.  “You’re staying?”   He looks over his shoulder one last time and can make out their forms.  There’s movement, something that looks like a scuffle before the spirit pulls the teen into a hug.  A small smile finds a home on his face and he turns away.  

Chapter Text

Zuko

Zuko doesn’t say a word while they search the empty lands for shelter.  He has little hope of finding a town at this point, but they need to find some sort of protection before the sun fully sets. There’s a soft groan and shifting against his back, and Mikey’s adjusting Uncle before he can even turn around.  Zuko leads the ostrich horse slowly across the barren landscape and gives the spirit another wordless thanks for his decision to stay.  He’s not sure how he would’ve done this without help.  Zuko doesn’t doubt his ability to fix a problem on his own, but it’s…nice to have assistance.  Uncle grunts again but it’s more from discomfort than pain.  He’s grateful for that too, he just hates that the aide came from the enemy.

“Over there.”

Zuko looks up and sags in relief.  A small abandoned house sits crookedly against the horizon.  It’s falling apart, the entire front torn down in some ancient attack, but it’s shelter.  Zuko reaches to adjust Uncle and picks up the pace.  It takes some time, the house not as close as Zuko first thought, but they make it.  Mikey jumps down first and opens his arms to receive the injured man.  Zuko moves Uncle slowly into Mikey’s hold, and the spirit shifts the older man so he’s slung comfortably across his shell.  Zuko watches in amazement like always.  He’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to the casual display of strength Mikey puts on.  

The spirit carries Uncle carefully up the eroding steps before leaning to set him down in the open room.

“Wait!”  Mikey pauses and Zuko takes the steps two at a time.  He pulls out a bedroll and smooths it over the floor.  He turns back and stops at the growing grin on the spirit's face.  “He’s injured!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to!”

Mikey shakes his head with a small smile and sets Uncle on the bedroll.  The man doesn’t move, but he doesn’t look to be in pain either, which is a relief.  Zuko tugs at Uncle's sleeve and looks at the smooth skin around his heart for the fifth time.  Uncle’s ok.  The waterbender didn’t leave a single blemish in her wake, but he can’t fight the need to triple-check.  Wounds are never easy for firebenders, their very element ensures a long road to recovery, but to see it wiped away like it never existed?  He feels the familiar tightness around his scar and gets up.  

Zuko goes and unloads the ostrich horse.  He sets the bags down and falls to the ground with them.  They need to get a count on their resources, and the softness of half the bags isn’t a good sign.

“How’s it looking?”

Zuko moves quickly through three and starts on the fourth.  “Not good,” he answers.  “We’ll need to hunt something tonight if we want to eat.”

“You know,” Mikey hums and drops down beside him.  “I think I’ve skinned and hunted more animals on this trip than in my entire life.”

“Me too,” he grunts.  Zuko can’t even remember pouring his own water, even after banishment.  “It’s a lot harder than I thought.” 

“Same,” Mikey nods, “maybe I should’ve paid more attention to Todd.”

Zuko doesn’t question the name.  The spirit knows a ton of people with names that don’t make any sense.  Zuko gets to the final bag and can’t stop the small tug on the corner of his frown.  A tea set.  Of course, Uncle would make sure this stayed intact.  Maybe he should make him a pot.

“I’m sorry.”

Zuko hums and stops.  “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Mikey repeats.  “About our fight.  You were right, a little bit when it came to Draxum.”  The spirit frowns.  “It’s not the same.  Not even close, but,” Mikey leans back against his hands, “no one in my family wanted to give Draxum a second chance.  Not after everything he did and tried to do, but I did.”  Mikey sighs and looks up at the setting sun.  “So I get how that doesn’t sound fair to you.”

Zuko puts the bag down, “I’m…sorry too,” he says.  “I shouldn’t have left.”

‘No,” Mikey says and Zuko tenses at the tone.  “You shouldn’t have.”

“It’s just,” Zuko says.  “I don’t argue with people.  About my father.”  He looks away, “it doesn’t turn out well for anyone.”   

There’s a nudge against his shoulder and Mikey shoots him a small smile.  “Don’t I know it?  I mean, leaving was a bit much, but now I know.”

Zuko fidgets.  “I don’t know why I left,” he pulls his legs up and hugs his knees.  “It’s not like you’re the first person to say that about him,” and he won’t be the last.  It just…. hurts to hear it from Mikey.

“I shouldn’t have pushed,” Mikey continues.  “Don’t get me wrong.  I still think your Dad is an A-grade jerk for burning you.”

“He’s my father,” Zuko repeats and it’s like he’s back by that campfire, spouting the same three words over and over.  Why can’t he ever say more?  It makes him so angry.

“I know,” Mikey says.  “So if you feel like you need to give him a second chance….then I’ll support you.”

Zuko unfurls with wide eyes, “Really-.”

“But,” Mikey interrupts.  “If he EVER hurts you again, then I will put him in the ground.”  Mikey holds his gaze.  Zuko feels a chill run up his spine at the electric gold that runs across the spirit's pupils.  “That’s a promise.”

He should be scared, or even angry that this spirit would dare threaten the Fire Lord, but he’s not.  Zuko looks away and grips the front of his shirt.  He feels bubbly at the threat.  No one’s ever gone against his father on his behalf.  Not even Uncle.  It feels nice.  He looks at the desolate landscape and the falling sun and feels good.  It feels like a restart now that Uncle and Mikey are here, like he can finally take a full breath.

“Now that all the mush is out of the way.”

A hard, almost bone-shattering punch lands against the sharp jut of his shoulder.  Zuko shouts and cages the rest of the noise behind clenched teeth.  “What was that for!?”

“You left me you jerk!” Mikey shouts.  “Who does that!?  I don’t know anything about this place!  I had to wash in a river!  Have you ever even seen me build a fire?!  I slept in-in trees because I didn’t want to get eaten by some wolf-bear-snake thingy!”

“That’s not a thing!”

Mikey throws his hands up.  “I don’t know that!  You can’t just…run off because you don’t know how to talk about your feelings.”

His face heats.  “That’s not why I left!”  Another hit lands in the center of his arm and Zuko nearly cries.  The spirit’s going to break it at this point!

“Yes, it is!” Mikey groans, “we just talked about it.   You can’t backtrack now.”

“I’m not backtracking!”  He sees it coming this time and deflects the blow before throwing one of his own.  It lands solidly against the armored front of the turtle.  A tingle runs up his arm and Zuko refuses to flinch.

Mikey narrows his eyes before throwing himself at Zuko in an uncoordinated attack.  Mikey’s nothing but speed and flailing limbs and he has a hard time following the movement.   Zuko has just enough time to yelp when a dirty palm smacks the side of his face, but he’s moving too.  He wraps a hand around the short tails of Mikey’s bandana and pulls.  Hard.

“Ow!” the spirit yelps, “that’s dirty!”

Zuko grins but a foot sinks into his stomach and suddenly they’re rolling.  He’s hitting what he can, and Zuko’s pretty sure he feels dull teeth graze the skin of his arm, but he doesn’t give up.  Finally, he gets both shoulders on the ground and pulls.  The turtle flies over him with a shout and Zuko rolls with the sound.  It’s not ideal, Mikey still has a foot against his chest and a fist pulling painfully at his hair, but now Zuko has the advantage.  He pulls a fist back, ready to return the punch from earlier when a throat clears behind him.

Uncle stands in the mouth of the abandoned house with an amused look on his face.  Zuko looks down at the turtle, looks at how childish he’s being and his face goes up in flames.  He pushes away from the spirit with a grunt.  “It’s not what it looks like!”

Uncle raises an eyebrow, “It looks like you boys are fighting.”

Zuko points a smoking finger at Mikey.  “He started it!”

“Me!”

“Yes, you!” Zuko yells.  “He hit me!” 

“Calm down, Prince Zuko,” Uncle chuckles.  “Roughhousing is normal in young boys.”

“I’m not a child.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Uncle says.  “Why don’t you grab my bag and I’ll make us a nice pot of calming tea.”  

Zuko grabs the bag roughly and shoots the spirit a dangerous glare.  Mikey just sticks his tongue out and hops to his feet.  The spirit walks off, shouting about catching dinner and Zuko doesn’t follow him.  He checks the water they have, and there’s just enough to waste on Uncle’s love of tea.  He walks into the house and starts the dull process of setting up the teapot.  

“Thank you, nephew,” Uncle says.  He rolls his shoulder with a slight wince, “I must say, the waterbender is very talented.  One would think I just pulled a muscle.”

Zuko frowns and tries not to think about it.  He doesn’t want to be grateful, but he is.  It’s confusing.  “You can thank her next time,” Zuko mumbles.  “In Ba Sing Se.” 

“Ba Sing Se?” Uncle frowns.  “I suppose that makes sense.  They are the Earth Kingdom's last stronghold.  What makes you so sure they’re heading that way?”

“Leo,” he says.  “Mikey’s brother.”  His mind flashes to spinning swords and he rolls his fingers.  Zuko hasn’t fought a swordsman with any notable skill since Piandao.  It was exhilarating.  The spirit was fast but just a touch slower than Mikey.  If he could spar a bit more with Mikey, then maybe.  He shakes his head at the thought.  Yeah right.  Leo made it pretty clear that the next time they lock blades it would be his last.  “He wants Mikey to meet him there.”

“Why?”

“It’s the only way Leo and the big one would let him stay,” he says.  “Mikey has to ‘rehabilitate’ me by the time we get to Ba Sing Se,” Zuko frowns.  “Not that there’s anything wrong with me.”

“So, you want to go to Ba Sing Se?”

“Of course,” he says.  “The Avatar is going to be there!”

“Right,” Uncle sighs.  “The Avatar’s team seems to have grown since we last saw him.”

Zuko heats a small fire under the pot.  “I know, all he’s missing is fire.” 

Mikey drops out of nowhere and Zuko suppresses a flinch.  The spirit hangs an unidentifiable bird between them and Zuko’s already pulling out his knife.  Uncle gives the spirit a shallow bow and pulls a small bag of tea from his side.  Zuko narrows his eyes at the bag.  Why does Uncle always have a stash of dried leaves on him?  

“Don’t worry, Iroh!” Mikey grins, “that’s going to be Zuko’s job!”

Uncle drops the bag and his eyes go wide.  “Z-Zuko has agreed to help the Avatar?”

“No, I haven’t!”  Zuko glares at the spirit.  “I would never betray my nation!”

“How would it be betraying your nation?” Mikey asks.  “It’s not like they’re trying to destroy the Fire Nation.”

“Yes, they are!”

“No,” Mikey says slowly, “they aren’t.  They’re trying to end the war.”

“It’s the same thing!”

“How?”

Zuko opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.  Stopping the war means leaving the people in poverty, he wants to say.  War is necessary to help other nations, the war is the only way to save the world from itself.  He wants to say all of that and more, but it wouldn’t answer Mikey’s question, not truly.  His tongue turns to lead in his mouth and he looks away.

“Anyway,” Mikey says.  “I think Zuko would be a great firebending teacher.”

Uncle picks up the leaves but his face is drawn in a curious line.  “I think so too,” he throws a speculative gaze at Zuko.  “I had not considered it being for the Avatar though.”

Zuko passes the cleaned bird to Mikey and the spirit starts breaking it down.  “Because it’s not happening.”

“I don’t know,” Mikey says.  “Aang seemed to consider it.”

“Who?”

Mikey looks up, “Aang.  The Avatar."  The room is silent and Mikey's jaw drops.  "You didn’t know his name!?”

His face heats, “It’s not like we introduced ourselves!”

“They know your name,” the spirit points outs.  “I thought it was common courtesy to know their names.  You know ‘know thy enemy’ or whatever.”

Zuko ignores the unfamiliar phrase and watches Uncle finish up the tea.  “I know their titles.  That’s all that matters.”

Mikey shrugs and sets aside the innards of the bird.  He pulls out a nunchuck and crosses it on the floor.  He closes his eyes, his marks glowing before the weapon erupts into a small flame.  “Could you pass me a pan?”

Zuko stares at the flaming weapon and doesn’t move.  “When could you do that!”

“I could always do this,” Mikey laughs.  “I just don’t.  If I’m setting these babies on fire then it’s usually for an attack.”  He reaches over Zuko and snags the pan.  Mikey gives the pan a thorough lookover before holding it over the burning nunchuck.  “I only started using it like this because someone ran off on me.  What was I supposed to do, rub two sticks together?”

“He meant no disrespect, Michelangelo,” Uncle starts.  “It’s just, we have only seen your abilities briefly.”

“That’s because I have to be careful,” Mikey says.  “I didn’t want to accidentally sink your ship or throw someone too hard.  That would be a disaster.”

Sink our ship?  Zuko looks back at the contained fire and feels something ominous settle over him.  It dawns on him that he has no idea what Mikey is capable of.  He’s only seen the spirit's power in flashes.  An extending chain and unbound physicality are all this spirit has shown him.  He thinks back on the giant red arm that stopped Azula and a blue circle that spat out the Avatar.  Their abilities vary so wildly.  Who knows what they could do together?

“-glowing,” Mikey’s saying and Zuko comes back to the conversation.  “They’ve never done that before.”

Uncle sits back with a cup of tea and hums.  “Remind me again, what caused those scars?”

“I opened a portal to save my brother,” Mikey says.  He flips the meat with an expert flick of his wrist.  “It was powerful magic, beyond anything I’ve ever tried.  Draxum says that’s where these cracks come from.  I couldn’t contain the power, so it started eating away at me.”  He pulls the pan away from the fire and the weapon goes out with a whisper.  “Could you get the plates, Zuko?”

Zuko blinks and digs through the bags.  He passes out the stone plates and Mikey cuts up the meat before dividing it up equally.  Zuko sinks his teeth gratefully into the food and grabs an offered cup from Uncle.

“And this did not happen with Donatello?”

“No,” Mikey answers.  “Do you think it has something to do with there being three of us?”

“Possibly,” Uncle says.  “Your mark is a curious case as it is, but I do not think it’s good that your scars hurt when you are in the presence of multiple spirits.”  Uncle takes a long sip of his tea and picks up his plate.  “You know, I have a wide assortment of scrolls hidden at the palace.  After my failure at Ba Sing Se, I went on a spiritual journey.  For many years I traveled and collected information on spirits and our connection with the spirit world.  Perhaps there is something useful there.”

“Too bad we can’t go,” Zuko bites.

“That is unfortunate,” Uncle continues.  “Maybe we will find answers in Ba Sing Se.  They have a very extensive library.”

Mikey grins, “That’s good to hear.  Maybe we’ll learn why it’s filling up too.”

“Could it be an energy thing?” Zuko offers.  

“Probably,” Mikey nods, “but I want to know what it’s filling up to before it finishes.”

“Do not worry too much, Michelangelo,” Uncle says.  “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.”

Mikey stops chewing and raises an eye ridge.  “Is this one of those famous proverbs I keep hearing Zuko complain about?”

Uncle rears back and Zuko's face flushes in embarrassment.  “I don't complain about them!  They’re just confusing.”

“I don’t know Zuks,” Mikey says.  “That one was pretty straightforward.”

Zuko opens his mouth but a boisterous laugh stops him.  Uncle’s head is thrown back with the force of it.  The older man sets his tea down and wipes the corners of his eyes.  “I’m glad my proverbs have made some impact, on you nephew.”  Uncle looks up and his eyes are sparkling, “Hopefully Michelangelo can help add clarity to my words and guidance through their message,” he looks at the spirit with a smile.  “I’m starting to believe that is what he’s here for.”

Ty Lee

Ty Lee watches the bison disappear into the horizon in a wobbly line and can’t stop a small sigh of relief from escaping.  She didn’t know what to do if they actually caught the Avatar’s friends.  Their aura was really nice, all clear blues and strong greens, that it didn’t feel good to fight them.  She gives her shirt one last wring and turns to Mai.  “Do you think Azula’s going to capture the Avatar?”

“I don’t know,” Mai says.  The girl peels off her outer robe and drapes it over the saddle.  “If those spirits make it back before she can subdue him then probably not.”

Ty Lee mounts the mongoose lizard with a quick swing of a leg.  “I wonder if that was Raph?  He had a really welcoming aura!”

“Right,” Mai huffs.  “So welcoming that he threw us in the lake.”  

“Yeah,” Ty Lee says.  Her heart nearly stopped when the bigger spirit came out of nowhere and grabbed them in a giant palm of crackling energy.    “He could’ve thrown us in the forest though!”

“Don’t remind me.”  Mai gives the lizard a soft kick and the animal moves back in the direction of the tank.  The lizard is moving slowly and Mai doesn’t bother rushing it, so neither does Ty Lee.  The fight’s over anyway.

“I hope Donnie’s back, it’s been a few days.”

“Who knows,” Mai says.  “He didn’t exactly leave on a good note.”

That’s an understatement.  Ty Lee hasn’t seen Azula that upset in a long time.  She hopes Donnie comes back soon.  They travel the rest of the way in silence and Ty Lee smiles when the tank finally comes into view.  There’s a small group of servants and soldiers moving around but she doesn’t see any sign of Donnie or Azula.  She slips off the lizard and runs for the interior, “Azula!” she shouts.  “Donnie!  Are you guys here!”

Silence is her only answer and her shoulders drop.  A hand lands against the middle of her back.  “She’ll be back,” Mai says.  

“You don’t think the Avatar captured her do you?”

“Azula, captured?” Mai snorts.  “Yeah right, and I’m a bender.”  She gives Ty Lee a soft pat before stepping deeper into the tank.  “Come on.  Let’s get out of these clothes before we wrinkle.”

Ty Lee giggles and follows the girl to their shared room.  Mai’s right, there’s no way anyone could capture Azula.  She’s the best firebender in the world.  Ty Lee slips into the shower first and thanks the spirits for firebenders and servants.  Should she thank Donnie when he comes back?  He is a spirit.

Ty Lee turns off the water and leans out of the small bathroom.  “Hey, Mai,” she says.  “Do you think I should thank Donnie?”

“For what?”

“For firebenders silly.”

“Knock yourself out,” Mai sighs.

Ty Lee frowns and steps back into the bathroom.  She throws on her clothes and leaves the door open behind her.  “Are you ok?  You sound kind of down.”

Mai turns to her but a knock at the door cuts her off.  Mai moves and Ty Lee notices a small, weathered letter slipping under the girl's pillow just as the door opens.  Azula stands in the mouth of the doorway and Ty Lee takes in her appearance.  Her clothes are disheveled, but there’s not a mark on her.  Ty Lee draws on a smile, “Azula!  Are you ok?  Did you capture the Avatar?”

Azula takes that unsaid invitation and steps fully into the room with a flick of her hair.  “Unfortunately, no.  The Avatar's little team joined the fight,” her eyes cut to Mai.  “So did a traitorous brother of mine.” 

Ty Lee draws in a breath and Mai doesn’t move.  “You saw Zuko?  How is he?”

Azula sits on the edge of Ty Lee’s empty bed with a sigh.  “Bad from the look of it.  Fugitive life has not been kind,” she smirks.  “Not like I expected it to.” 

Mai’s fingers twitch toward the pillow, “did you capture him.”

“I didn’t capture anyone,” Azula frowns.  “Eight versus one is a difficult ask for anyone, including myself.  That reminds me, what happened with you two?”

“W-well,” Ty Lee starts.  “We captured the waterbender and her brother, but-.”

“The red spirit grabbed us,” Mai finishes, “by the time we got out of the water the bison was gone.”

“Right, the missing fourth spirit,” Azula hums but her fists are tight.  “His abilities took me by surprise.”

“I’ll say,” Ty Lee shivers.  When he…exploded in red and electricity it shook her to her core.  The welcoming hue she caught a glimpse of disappeared entirely into the giant neon energy surrounding him. 

Azula leans forward, “I wasn’t expecting him to be that dangerous.  I’ll have to reconsider my plans for Ba Sing Se.”

“You’re not going after the Avatar anymore?”

“Or your brother?” Mai adds.

“The Avatar will probably make his way to Ba Sing Se,” Azula says, “and my brother and foolish Uncle aren’t nearly as important.”

Ty Lee sits beside her, “So what are you going to do?”

Azula is silent for a long time.  “I’ll have to write my father for reinforcements.  I can’t take over with just a small team and a drill if the Avatar arrives with those spirits.  I’ll need more manpower.”

Ty Lee swallows at the implications.  She’s talking about a full assault on Ba Sing Se.  That’s war talk.  Ty Lee moves her hands into her lap, she didn’t sign up for war.

Azula gets to her feet, “I need to discuss it with an advisor first.”  

Ty Lee watches her go.  “Did you see Donnie?”

Azula stops at the door.  “By his own timeline, he should be back tomorrow.  We’ll see if he keeps his word.  It’s a shame he didn’t listen to me.  He might have seen his brother if he did.”

The princess leaves on that note and Ty Lee falls against the bed with a sigh.  “I really hope he comes back, Mai.”

The girl grunts in response.  There’s a squeak, the soft thumping of feet before the bathroom door slams shut.  Ty Lee rolls her head to look at the empty bed and stares at the pillow.  She has a pretty good idea who that old letter is from, but she won’t ask.  Mai’s…sensitive when it comes to Zuko and his situation.  She’s always held a firm belief that his banishment is temporary, but fugitive holds a different connotation altogether.  Ty Lee kicks the covers and rolls until she’s completely cocooned in the blanket.  It’s still early, but she can’t handle a sterile dinner right now, not when Donnie’s return is still in question.  Just get some sleep, she thinks, the goat sheep start to jump across her closed lids and she begins to count.  She gets to three hundred thirty-two when she finally falls asleep.

It’s the shouting that pulls her out of blissful sleep and alerts her to Donnie’s return.  The servant's voices and heavy footsteps ring like an unending alarm and seep through the cracks of the metal door.  Ty Lee pulls the covers up over her head, but it doesn’t help.  It seems to only increase the intensity of the noise.  She sits up with a wild yawn and glares at the door.

“Ugh,” Mai groans, “You’d think the Fire Lord himself was here.”

Ty Lee huffs a laugh and slips out of bed.  She’s up now, so she might as well get through her morning routine.  She takes a deep breath and bends until her head touches her knees.  It takes her a while to find a flow through the haze of sleep, but she finds her rhythm after a few minutes.  She’s breathing deeply through a high peacock pose, her arms straight with her knees tucked tightly against her armpits when Mai rolls out of bed.  The girl moves around her while Ty Lee releases another breath.  She pushes her legs out slowly and leans forward until her arms are bent and her legs hang heavy in the air.  Ty Lee counts out five more breaths before bringing her legs to the ground on the last one.

Mai’s leaving the bathroom by the time Ty Lee’s back on her feet.  “Good Morning!  Ready for breakfast?”

There’s a slight quirk on her lips.  “Sure,” she says.  “Let's get this over with.”

Ty Lee does a small ariel out of the room to loosen the last bit of muscle and heads for the small dining room.  She swings the door open and stumbles at the sudden heat and silence.  The spirit sits across from Azula with a dark expression and a tight grip on his chopsticks.  Ty Lee walks nervously into the room with a small spark of irritation in her heart.  Donnie just got back, how are they fighting already!?  “Morning, Donnie,” she smiles, “how was your trip?”

Donnie sets down the chopsticks with a loud click.  “Uneventful.  Are you going to gloat about my brother too or can I eat breakfast in peace?”

Ty Lee blinks at the harsh tone and takes a closer look at the turtle.  His aura is dark, darker than when he left.  Inky blacks and purples shift around the turtle in a torrent of negative energy.  

“Really, Donnie,” Azula sighs, “I was hardly gloating.”

“Bragging, relishing, rejoicing.  Pick your synonym.”  

“I was just pointing out that I was right,” Azula says.  “Like usual.”

“I’m never wrong either.”

Azula smirks, “that’s what your brother said.”

Donnie’s hands stop moving and he pulls in a slow breath.  “I needed to be sure.”

“I thought you trusted my resources?”

“Well,” Donnie huffs.  “They haven’t done me any good so far.  I haven’t reaped these supposed benefits yet.”  The spirit tugs his armband and his mood falls further.  “Almost at the halfway mark,” he mumbles. 

“I assure you your chances are better with me than with Zuzu,” Azula sneers.  “Your brother wasn’t even with him.  That speaks volumes about his capabilities.”

The table shakes and Ty Lee jumps.  The spirit’s hand digs into the metal and his eyes are fierce.  “What?”

“Michelangelo wasn’t with him,” Azula repeats.  “Then again, you weren’t with me either.”

“That’s different,” he hisses.  “You have a base.  A small caravan of people that are easy to track and ensure that all your needs are met.  Zuko is a fugitive in the biggest piece of land on this planet.  A group that small doesn’t separate.”

“Relax,” Mai says.  “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“I need more than your intuition,” Donnie frowns.  A shaky line of servants comes in and sets a bowl of food before Mai and Ty Lee.  “This is what I’m talking about.  Our meals are made and brought out to us, Mikey doesn’t know how to hunt!”

“Donnie,” Azula sighs.  “My brother is many things, but he’s not a complete imbecile.  He would never leave your spirit.  So eat the food, this so-called ‘caravan of people’ worked so hard to prepare.” 

Donnie’s face falls into a dark scowl before picking up his chopsticks.  “Not like I can do anything about that either,” he says.  

Donnie’s mood grows darker by the minute and Ty Lee’s sure everyone feels it.  “Did you get any sleep, Donnie?” she asks.  “You seem tired.”

“No,” he says.  “I spent most of my time shifting through Gaoling's library, but there was nothing there either.”  He sets the empty bowl down so hard that it cracks.  “There’s nothing anywhere.”  He pushes away from the table in a burst of movement and heads for the door.  “I’ll be in my room.  Don’t bother me.”  The door crashes behind the spirit. 

“Geez,” Mai huffs, “and you guys say I have an attitude.”

“You do,” Azula says, “but this is a bit much, even for Donnie.”  The girl sets her chopsticks down and brings a napkin to her lips.  “Maybe I’ll petition an advisor back home to release a restricted scroll or two,” Azula hums.  “Maybe then the spirit will find something useful.”

Ty Lee blinks and shoots Mai a look.  “That’s so nice, Azula!”

“Hardly,” Azula scoffs.  “Donnie’s not at his best with this symbol nonsense hanging over his head.  He’s getting worse with each passing day.”  She stands up and heads for the door.  “We’re setting up camp here for the next few days as I plan our next move.  Let’s give the spirit some space, maybe then he’ll be productive.”  

Ty Lee watches her go and looks around the empty room before leaning forward.  “Did you see that!” she whispers, “she’s concerned about Donnie!”

“More concerned about her asset,” Mai says, but the response is automatic and her eyes don’t leave the door.  “It’s still too early to say anything.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs.  “It’s like watching someone on a tightrope.”

“Yeah,” Mai says, “but which one is the rope.”

Ty Lee studies Mai and a grin slowly spreads across her face.  “Mai,” she sings, “have you been reading Zuko’s plays?”

Red climbs up the girl's neck and Ty Lee drops her head with a laugh.  “That’s so cute!”  

“Whatever.”

Ty Lee finishes the rest of her meal with a smile and a sense of relief.  It’ll be nice not to move for a little bit.  She looks out the window and takes in the cloudless sky and glowing sun.  It’s also a beautiful day for some fun practice.  Maybe she’ll go up to the roof?  She’s been dying to walk some of those edges the moment she laid eyes on them.  After breakfast, she decides.  The rest of the meal passes in comfortable silence and Ty Lee finds herself on the top of the tank within the hour.  She walks the length of the machine first, familiarizing herself with the metal before throwing herself into a freeform routine.  She loses herself in the easy motion for hours but there’s still tension in her shoulders.

She does a few cartwheels and transitions to three easy backflips before ending on a somersault.  Ty Lee lands on one leg with her arms outstretched, but it doesn’t improve her mood.  This helped a bit, but all this negative energy is starting to dampen her aura and worse, stress her out.  She takes in the unmoving landscape, the faint call of birds she can't identify, and smiles.  The trip hasn’t been all bad, she’s always wanted to explore other nations.  A loud bang destroys the peaceful silence and she jumps.  She turns around, scanning the ground below but there aren’t any soldiers or servants nearby. 

She hears it again, but this time it’s softer.  Ty Lee hesitates before following the sound on quiet feet.  She’s halfway down the train before she realizes she’s heading for Donnie's room.  Her shoulders drop in relief.  He must be working on something, or hitting the wall.  She giggles a little at the thought before stopping above his room.

She drops into a deep crouch and slides her arm down the side and grins when her fingers curl over the edge of the window.  She lays flat against the cold metal, letting her toes sink into a small seam on the roof, and swings so her head appears in the window.  She grins wildly, a joyful shout building, but it dies in her throat.  Donnie sits off to the side of the small room surrounded by wire and dark sections of scales.  The spirit shell sits cracked open under his careful hands and sharp objects.

Ty Lee’s going to be sick.  

Her eyes immediately flood.  What happened?  Is he hurt?  Why didn’t he say anything?  The spirit’s turning away from the window when she sees it.  The flex and bend of something green and patterned on his mutilated back.  Except it’s not mutilated.  Her wet eyes follow the curve of the spirit's spine and its connection to Donnie’s plated front.  It clicks.  A shell.  It’s another shell.  It doesn’t look like the other spirits though.  She remembers the massive spirit with a shell made almost of spiked stone.  Remembers the hard curve of the blue ones, but Donnie's doesn’t look like either of theirs.  In fact, it seems….malleable.  

Ty Lee squints at the familiar metal shell and tries to look past the horror, but it looks the same.  Even the way it lays open reminds her of its constant unfolding to display his other limbs and wings.  She looks at this more organic shell on Donnie’s back and stops on the spirit's shoulders.  There are thick lines of discolored skin on each one.  Painful blue and black bruises that wrap all the way to his plastron.  The lines are too straight to be organic, almost like he was wearing something heavy.

Like a piece of armor.

She sucks in a soft breath at the implication.  Her eyes jump from the bruises to the metal shell, mind racing, before looking straight into the electric eyes of the spirit.

Sound falls away for half a breath before she’s moving.  Ty Lee pulls herself up, but a wave of purple light bursts from the open window.  The energy engulfs her so tightly that she can hardly draw a full breath.  There’s a tug and the energy drags her through the air violently.  Everything seems to blur.  The trees and sky become one before she flies through the small window.  Ty Lee tries to shout, but all the air leaves her lungs when she slams hard against the wall.  The energy doesn’t stop.  It keeps moving until she’s covered completely in the neon lights of Donnie's spiritual energy.  The color seeps down the floor and across the walls, bathing the entire room in an ominous purple hue. 

“This isn’t good,” Donnie mutters.  “This isn’t good, this is NOT GOOD!”  he starts pacing, “Of all the boneheaded-!”  The spirit sinks to the ground with a hiss and cradles his head.  “The ONE day I-.” He explodes to his feet and turns to her with a furious scowl.  “What were you doing on the roof anyway!”

“I-,” Ty Lee sucks in a breath, “-I was just doing c-cartwheels.”  She blinks away the tears, “It’s a beautiful day.”

He stares at her, his gaze never leaving hers before all the energy leaves him in a powerful slump.  “Of course, you were.”  Donnie looks at her dully and rubs his eyes.  “Why didn’t I hear you?”

“I can be pretty quiet,” she whispers.  “When I want to.”

He chuckles but there’s nothing behind it.  “Right.”  Donnie turns away from her and Ty Lee gets a closer look at this new shell.  It’s a murky green with dark green patches, but there are…wrinkles?  They bunch up in odd spots down his spine with a hint of muted pink around the edges.  “I guess I have to leave,” he sighs, but his fists are tight.

She can’t help herself.  “Are you going to kill me?”

Donnie puffs up, a familiar energy running through his lifeless frame before he lets it dissipate.  “No,” he says.  “I’m not.  I just need to gather my stuff then I’ll be out of here,” he frowns and buries a palm against his eyes.  “It’s not ideal.  I haven’t learned anything yet, and I’ll have to hunt Leo and Raph down.”  He crouches again, “or I’ll have to head straight to Ba Sing Se and pray they’re heading that way, and who knows what reception I’ll receive.  Everyone knows I’m traveling with Azula at this point.  Maybe I should find Mikey?  But where would I even start?”

The spirit's aura gets darker the longer he stays on the ground and Ty Lee doesn’t know what to do.  She likes Donnie.  He’s funny and helps her with just about anything when she asks.  She doesn’t want him to leave.  She lets her head hit the wall, “Why do you have to leave?”

“Are you serious?” he asks.  “You know about my softshell.”

Softshell.  So that’s what it is.  “What about it?”

“You’ll tell Azula,” he says slowly.  “Clearly if I wanted her to know she would.”

“I won’t say anything!”

“Please,” he sneers.  “You’re her lackey.  You’ll tell her because that’s your role.”

Ty Lee flinches and feels her eyes sting with fresh tears.  She sniffles and the spirit let out another long sigh.

“Sorry,” he says, “I don’t mean to be harsh.  I’m running on very little sleep.  It doesn’t matter.  You’re going to tell her and I’ll be gone by the time you do.”  

Ty Le watches him move around the room.  Despite her tears, he’s right.  She would tell Azula.  She’d feel obligated too.  If Azula were to find out that she knew about this and didn’t tell her?  Ty Lee shivers against her bonds at the mere thought of Azula’s anger.  She would spill this information in a heartbeat, but…Azula’s aura has never been clearer.  It still fluctuates, pulsing a dangerous black at times, but there are other colors now too.  Calm yellows and ambivalent blues.  Ty Lee can’t even remember the last time she’s seen the girl's aura this….this normal, and the small change can be blamed solely on the spirit.  

He can’t leave.  Not yet.

A resolve settles and Ty Lee feels her own aura grow firm.  “I’m not going to say anything.  Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t believe you.”  His answer is short and final, but Ty Lee has to try.

“I’m scared of her too,” she whispers and that stops the spirit. 

He looks at her with narrowed eyes.  “I’m not afraid of Azula.”

“No,” she says, “but you might be afraid of her father.”

The accusation lies heavy between them and Ty Lee knows she’s right.  She’s only been in the presence of the Fire Lord a few times, but she remembers his intensity like it was yesterday.

“I’m not afraid of him,” he says, but she doesn’t believe him.  “I’m concerned about the power he holds and your people's idealization of turtles and coincidences.  Although turtles have a particular meaning in my world too.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” she puts as much truth and conviction as she can muster behind those words.  She needs Donnie to know she’s telling the truth.  

The spirit straightens but the purple never leaves the room.  “Do you have any secrets from her?”

“No,” she answers honestly, “but I’m willing to make this my first.”  

Donnie’s eyes jump around her face for a long time before the purple breaks away in a rectangular pattern.  Ty Lee falls to the ground with a yelp and shakes under the sudden freedom.  He believes her.  He’s going to stay.  It takes her a second to get to her feet and the turtle’s still standing in the same spot.  Ty Lee doesn’t move once she’s back on her feet either, she doesn’t want him to think she’s going to take off the moment she’s free.  

The spirit goes back to his armored shell and sits without a word, and Ty Lee takes a hesitant step forward.  She looks nervously at his exposed shell and sits across from him.  Her eyes fall to the dark metal, “So,” she starts, “did you make this?”

“Yes.”

“Whoa,” she says.  Ty Lee reaches out with hesitant fingers and picks up a dark panel.  It’s heavy.  “I knew you were smart, but this is crazy!”

A green hand covers hers and Ty Lee freezes.  The spirit pulls the piece from her trembling fingers and continues working without a word.  The room grows quiet but she isn’t deterred.  “Why did you build it?” she asks, “your shell doesn’t look that soft.”

His hands pause.  “It’s not,” he answers.  “It’s a common misconception, but it’s soft enough.”  The spirit drags a palm down the curve of the metal.  “I initially built it so my dad would stop worrying.”  He sits up straight and his voice falls into an accent she can’t place.  “Careful Purple, don’t play too rough boys, come sit with me Purple, slow down Purple!  Your shell!”  Donnie slumps down with a sigh.  “I was just so tired of hearing about it.”

Ty Lee looks at the metal and Donnie huffs a laugh.  “I actually made my first one out of the tv.  Dad was furious, but I got to play tackle with my brothers for the first time.”

“Tackle?”

“A kid's game,” he says.  “After that, I just…kept making more.  I guess I just wanted to be more like them.”

Ty Lee shifts to lean back against her hands.  “I want to understand, but I don’t.  I have six identical sisters.  I had to fight every day for my name, not even my face is mine.”  She pulls her legs up.  “Ty sisters.  That’s what everyone used to call us.  I’d give anything not to be part of a set.”  The circus was supposed to be her way out, but Azula came knocking like always.

“Sounds like an identity issue,” Donnie hums.  He closes the back of the shell and the whole thing seems to move before folding into one piece.  “But I get it.  Sometimes you have to forge your own path.”  He turns to face her.  “Are you serious about keeping this a secret?  I’ll leave the second you spill the beans.  It would be great to stay a bit longer, at least until we get to Ba Sing Se.”

“I’m not going to tell,” she holds out a pinky.  “Promise.”

The spirit raises an eyebrow and holds out a digit of his own.  She links them and gives them a little shake.  She grins, “There!  Now you have my word.”

He rolls his eyes, but Ty Lee can make out the start of a smile on his lips.  “I would prefer something a little more binding, but I’ll take it.”  He stands and his face breaks into a massive yawn.  “Do you mind watching the door while I take a nap?”

“Sure!”

Donnie gives her a small wave and tugs his mask off with a quick pull.  Ty Lee’s jaw drops at the sight of his bare face.  “No way!  Are your eyebrows fake too!”

“I plead the fifth.”

“What?”

“It means I’m not answering that,” he says.  He drops the mask on the small bedside table and circles back to pick up the battle shell.

She raises an eyebrow.  “Do you need it to sleep?”  That can’t be comfortable, it looks really heavy.

Donnie blinks and looks down at the armored piece.  “No.  It’s just habit I guess.”

“Can I,” she hesitates, “can I touch it?  Your real shell?”

He looks at her with such a look of disgust and disbelief that Ty Lee falls back laughing.  “I get it,” she smiles, “no touching.”  She scoots across the floor until her back hits the door.  “Do you want me to wake you up?”

“No,” he answers.  He moves the armored shell to sit beside the bed and faceplants into the mattress.  “There’s an alarm in the shell.  I just need two hours.  My shoulders could use five, but I’ll take what I can get.”

She nods and looks out the window.  She can do two hours, she might even try to break her handstand record.  

The covers move and a muffled voice raises from the pile.  “My tech is monitoring that door by the way.  I’ll know if you open it.”

She grins, so paranoid.  “I’m not leaving.”

“If you say so,” he yawns.  “If that door opens a second early then I’m out of here.”

Ty Lee giggles and makes herself comfortable until she’s stretched out against the floor.  She stares at the ceiling and starts to tap a tune against her stomach.  Donnie doesn’t trust her yet, he might never trust her, but at least he stayed.

That’s all she could ask for.    

Chapter Text

Iroh

Iroh watches Zuko start the move for the fifth time with a critical eye.  Zuko flows through the movements perfectly, his arms making the correct path for the lightning to build, but Iroh can already see the failure.  Zuko snaps his hands forward, tiny sparks lighting across the tips of his fingers before he’s blown back by a mighty explosion.  The prince rolls with the force of the failure and comes up on his knees.  A powerful fist sinks into the ground and Iroh shakes his head.  He knew this technique would be hard for the prince, but he was expecting a little more by the third day.

Iroh lowers himself onto a small rock just as Zuko releases a powerful shout to the sky.  The boy will never complete the technique at this rate if he keeps approaching the concept with anger.  Zuko’s current mindset is not conducive to the proper separation of energies.  There’s a certain calm, an acceptance of one’s self, that is needed to master this rarest form of bending.  

He picks up a premade cup of tea and takes a calming sip.  They’ve settled at this abandoned house until his full mobility returns.  A flash of gold on his left pulls his attention away from Zuko, and he focuses on the floating spirit.  Michelangelo’s face is calm, but his brow twitches in concentration.  His entire form glows a faint orange, but there’s a pulsing gold bleeding through the wrappings of his marked wrist.  Michelangelo’s been mediating just as long as Zuko’s been training.  The spirit said he felt ‘leaky’ when he met up with his brothers.  Overflowing with unknown energy, Iroh can sense that it unsettles the turtle.  He believes the cracks might have something to do with this overflowing feeling, but he can’t say for sure.

There’s another bang followed by a shout and Iroh sighs into his cup.  Maybe he should ask Michelangelo to teach his nephew how to meditate, it might do the boy some good.  

Iroh sets down the empty cup and grabs a nearby branch.  He sketches the symbol absently in the dirt and frowns at the sharp angles and swirling circles.  There is something familiar in the lines adorning the small spirits' wrists.  Something ancient and powerful.  Iroh taps the dirt in irritation.  For the first time in three years, Iroh wishes he was back home or at least had the foresight to pack his scrolls.  If only his brother wasn’t so cruel, then maybe he would’ve had more time to prepare.  Instead, Ozai only waited until the healers said the prince would survive before casting them out to sea.  Iroh still wars with fury over his brother's actions.

There was little hope in his heart for the direction of the Fire Nation after his brother cast out Zuko.  He knew eventually that he would need to commit treason in hopes to ending this war, but he worries about his nephew.  He wants so desperately for the prince to see what the Fire Nation has done.  To see the scar their family has left on the balance of this world, but Zuko is so stubborn.  He believes with his whole heart that Ozai can change and Iroh was afraid he would not reach Zuko before he left for the White Lotus.

The Avatar's appearance, however, has changed everything.  When Michelangelo first said Zuko would be the airbender’s teacher he nearly fainted at the revelation.  A type of clarity he hadn’t experienced in an age washed over him.  Of course.  Why else would the Avatar awaken after such a dormant period?  People have searched for decades, yet it was his nephew, who found him.  During his age of maturity no less.  Iroh watches Zuko fail yet again at producing lightning and turns back to the symbol.  He’s not ready to inherit the heavy weight of the crown, but he will be.  Zuko has always been stubborn and excitable, but maybe teaching the Avatar will provide him with more patience.

He taps three corners of the symbol sketched before him.  The spirits have landed with the best teachers for the Avatar to master his elements.  Leonardo with the waterbender, Raphael with the young earthbender, and Michelangelo with his nephew.  All chosen to help guide Aang to reestablish the balance of this world.  Iroh hovers over the fourth corner of the sketch and frowns.

Donatello and his choice is the only one that does not fit.

Iroh is trying to understand, but the answer is elusive.  He knows Azula.  Knows what she is capable of and the cruelty that lived deep in her heart from a young age.  She is every bit her father's child.  He hoped that Donatello’s appearance meant a change on the horizon, but her ruthless attack tells him otherwise.  He rubs absently at his shoulder and taps the dirt again.  Could it be for political reasons?  Despite Zuko’s rough exterior, he has a warm and gentle heart.  Something the Fire Nation is in desperate need of, but there will be enemies.  He isn’t naive enough to believe the end of the war will fix generations of horror brought down on the other nations.  Zuko might not be cold enough to make those decisions, but Azula is.

This stick stops on the fourth corner.  The spirits have never paid attention to the political landscape of the human plane before, so why now?  He pushes the stick into the dirt with a frown.  If only he could talk to this Donatello, and get a sense of his plans for his niece and the future of their nation.  

“Uncle?”

He blinks and takes in the drenched form of his nephew.  He’s been practicing non-stop for hours under the harsh Earth Kingdom sun.  Zuko settles across from him, “are you ok?”

“I’m fine nephew,” he smiles.  “Just a little stiff is all.  Azula has been practicing.”

“That’s why I need to learn so I can beat her!” Zuko frowns and crosses his arms.  “I know what you’re going to say.  I should be trying to get along with her.”

Iroh glances at the symbol and sighs.  “No,” he says.  Azula is an outlier.  A weapon that has not fully left its master, and they cannot wait on the spirit to temper her blade in their favor.  “She needs to go down.”

“What!”

Iroh leans back at the shout.  He did not notice the spirit come out of his meditative state.  Michelangelo lands beside Zuko, “you can’t take her down!  She’s your sister!”

“You do not understand, Michelangelo,” he says.  “Azula is dangerous.”

“You’re all dangerous,” Michelangelo snorts.  “You throw fireballs!  And lightning!”

“That is different,” Iroh argues, “I have known Azula since she was a child.  She has always been cruel.”

“Yeah,” Zuko nods.  “She used to bully the turtleducks in the courtyard pound.  She even burned the doll Uncle gifted her!”

“Animal cruelty is a sign of a psychopath,” Michelangelo hums, “and I don’t really know anyone who burns dolls….Wait, you got her a doll?”

“Yes,” Iroh blinks.  “When I occupied Ba Sing Se.  I sent gifts to both of them.  Is there a problem?”

“No,” the spirit says, “she just doesn’t seem like a doll person to me.”

“She’s not,” Zuko scowls, “she doesn’t have the softness for one.”

Michelangelo turns and Iroh draws a breath at the gaze.  The spirit’s stare is powerful and unwavering and Iroh straightens under it.  “So why did you give her one?”

His mouth opens to answer but all the excuses fall away at the burning look.  Why did he get Azula the doll?  He recalls the memory through a haze of time and loss.  He got the dagger personally inscribed for Zuko.  He recalls the heavy expectations of his brother and the cruelty of his niece.  He knew Zuko would need the reminder not to be crushed under their oppressive weight, but Azula?  

He leans forward and gives the turtle a small smile.  “You are right, Michelangelo.  The doll was not a good gift.”  The spirit might be young, but he is wise beyond his years.

“What?” Zuko frowns.  “He didn’t say that and what’s wrong with dolls?  Girls love dolls!” 

“Some do,” Iroh allows, “but would you have given one to Mai?”

Zuko’s mouth opens before he stops.  “No,” he answers, “she wouldn’t like it.”

“Who’s Mai?”

Zuko’s face goes up and flames and Iroh smirks.  “Why Michelangelo, Zuko has not told you of his lovely fiance?"

“Fiance?!?”

“She’s not my fiance!  She’s my girlfriend!!”

“That’s even better!” Michelangelo grins.  “I didn’t know you had it in you!  You seem so…stilted.”

“I’m not stilted!”

“It’s ok, nephew,” Iroh laughs.  “They make quite the cute couple.”

“Shut up, Uncle,” Zuko hisses.

“Aww,” the spirit coos, “you have to tell me all about her!  How did you two meet?  She talked to you first, right?  Ohh, where was your first date?”

Zuko shoots to his feet.  “I don’t have time for this!  I need to be training.”  He turns but the spirit is faster.  Michelangelo lunges forward and wraps his arms around the boy's waist.  “Let me go!”

“No,” Michelangelo grunts, “we have to talk about this!  How long have guys been dating?  What does she look like?  I have so many questions!”

Iroh watches Zuko struggle to untangle himself from the spirit and laughs.  He relishes these free moments between them.  It gives him a glimpse into the life Zuko might have lived if Ozai was a different person.

Iroh looks back at the fourth corner of the faded symbol.  Michelangelo is right.  He does not know his niece, not truly.  Maybe he has never known her.  Ozai sharpened her so young and Iroh only knows the weapon, not the girl.  He sighs another tragedy.  There are so many in this family.  Another explosion vibrates through the air and Iroh shakes his head.  Maybe lightning is too volatile for the young prince to master as he is now.  Iroh taps the stick against the ground; if only he could teach Zuko how to be calm.   Calm.  Iroh stands to his feet, “nephew,” he says.  “I have another idea.”  

Sokka

Sokka sinks deep into his stance and rolls his fingers on the handle of the sword.  He goes through the steps one more time.  Knees bent, hips open, and shoulders square.  He lifts the blade and closes his eyes with a deep breath.  The world falls away for a moment and a calm settles over him.  Sokka opens his eyes, his grip tightens and he lunges forward.  He brings the sword down in a powerful arc, and it sings against the opposing metal.  Leo pushes through the attack and pivots.  The spirit's sword comes down at a powerful angle and Sokka deflects it with a grunt.  Sokka steps back from a horizontal blow and surges with a forward slash of his own.  Sokka loses track of how many strikes he’s aimed at Leo and tries not to get frustrated.  He can’t find any openings in the spirit's form.  Sokka clenches his teeth and falls to the ground under Leo’s attack.  He flips the sword, lets it spin from his right hand to his left, and surges up with a powerful shout.  

The clash of metal rings down Sokka’s empty hands to his shoulders, and the blade lands behind him with a solid thunk against the ground.  The spirit twirls his own sword before slipping it into its sheath.  

The camp erupts in applause and Sokka’s shoulders slump. 

“That was good!” Leo says, “neat move at the end there.  Very creative.”  

“I couldn’t even break through your defense!”

“Well, yeah,” Leo says.  “I’m like, the world's greatest ninja.  You’re not going to beat me with only a few months of training.”  

“I know,” Sokka groans.  “I just thought I’d do better, I guess.”

“Sokka,” Leo frowns, “what are you talking about?  You’re killing it!”

“Leo’s right,” Katara says.  “You’ve always been good with weapons, but this was something else!”  Sokka narrows his eyes at her, but she seems sincere.  Her eyes are practically sparkling. “I think you could even take Zuko!”  Sokka feels himself flush under the praise.  It’s been a while since Katara looked up to him about…well anything.

“I don’t know about that,” Leo says and Sokka deflates.  “Campfire was something else with those swords, but you’re getting there.”

“I’m surprised you're learning anything under Leo,” Raph grunts.  “He’s not exactly known for his patience or training.”

“What are you talking about?” Leo says.  “I’m a great teacher!  I taught Mikey how to swim.”

“He nearly drowned!”

“Semantics,” Leo waves and Sokka hides a laugh behind his hands.

Toph drops her head over the rock.  She watches the practices with everyone else but keeps her back to them deliberately.  It doesn’t bother Sokka, but it gets under Leo’s skin when she loudly asks what’s going on.   “What kind of turtle can’t swim?”

“A box turtle,” Leo answers, “and it’s not like he can’t.  He’s just…not as good at it as we are.”

“Still sounds like he can’t swim,” Toph hums.

“He can swim better than you!”

“I’m blind!”  

Sokka rolls his eyes and collapses next to Raph.  “Geez,” he mutters, “do they have to do this every time?” 

“Probably,” Raph says.  “Leo’s being extra…..Leo with her for some reason.”  Raph turns to him with a grin, “not like Toph’s acting any better.”

He can say that again.  Leo and Toph have been snipping at each other like a polar bear dog and leopard cat for days.  It’s starting to wear on his already frayed nerves.  “Can you pass me my bag?”

“Sure thing.”

The spirit drops it and Sokka gives him a grateful smile.  He digs out the map, unrolls it, and can already feel the beginning of a headache.  They’re moving perpendicular across the map instead of across it.  This little detour of Aang's throws them off by at least two days.  Three, if you count the upcoming supply run.  Not like it matters to anyone but him.  He grits his teeth.  Everyone’s more concerned with playing around and taking unnecessary ‘mini vacations’ when there are more important things to focus on.  Like finding out intel on the Fire Nation.  Is he the only one who remembers that they’re trying to stop a war?   

“You ok?”

Sokka looks up, “yeah,” he sighs.  “Just a bit frustrated about our progress.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Not yet,” he answers, “we still need to do Toph and Katara’s vacation before I can even hope for them to focus.”

Raph frowns, “Do we really have time for that?  Leo made it seem like there’s a pretty serious time limit on this.”

“No,” Sokka says, “we really don’t and Leo’s right.  We only have until the summer.” 

The spirit gets to his feet.  “Then we do one more stop, then head for Ba Sing Se.”

“What?” Sokka says, “they’ll never go for that!”

“Tough,” Raph snorts and Sokka’s jaw drops.  Raph turns to the rest of the group and Sokka follows his gaze.   Leo and Toph are about two minutes away from trading blows.  There in each other’s faces, and Sokka can make out a faint crack about Toph's height before the girl stomps the ground.  She’s looming over Leo now and Sokka can see the spirit gearing up for the first shove.

A low whistle breaks through the impending rumble and all eyes turn to Raph.  “Alright gang, there’s been a change of plans!  One more mini vacation then we’re heading to Ba Sing Se!”

“What!”  Toph shouts, “Me and Sugerqueen haven’t even gotten a turn yet!”

“It’s Sugerqueen and I,” Leo smirks.  “Raised by wolves, I tell you.”

“Leo,” Raph warns.

“Toph’s right,” Katara says.  “That’s not really fair.  We already decided on the vacations.”  Katara throws him a suspicious look, “did Sokka put you up to this?”

Sokka’s shoulders slump.  Why is he always the bad guy for making sure they stay on the mission?

“No,” Raph answers, “he didn’t.”  The spirit crosses his arms and suddenly Sokka’s six again.  “We’re on a deadline, remember?”

“We do,” Aang says, “but rest and relaxation are good for team morale!”

“I know,” Raph nods, “that’s why we’re doing one more thing.”

“But-.”

“No buts, Aang,” Raph frowns.  “You guys do remember that there’s a war going on.”

“We-.”

“And,” Raph continues, “that you were given a deadline.  Summer’s right around the corner.”

Katara sets her jaw, “We know that.”

“Do you?  What exactly is the plan then?” Three pairs of eyes turn to Sokka and he swallows.  He straightens, but a large arm stops him.  “Don’t look at him?”

“But,” Aang stammers, “he’s Sokka!  The plan guy!”

“Yeah, when you want to follow it,” Raph says and Sokka's jaw continues to drop.  He can't believe this is happening.  “It’s going to be summer soon and we aren’t even close to Ba Sing Se.  Plus, doesn’t it take time to put together a war plan?”

“That’s true,” Katara allows.  

“Great!  You can have all the vacations you want once we get there.  Now,” Raph pulls the map from Sokka’s limp fingers and passes it to Katara, “start looking.  We leave in the next hour.”

Sokka watches her face puff into a familiar expression of anger before she snatches the map with a yell. “Come on, Toph,” she scowls. “We don’t want to keep everyone waiting! ”

“Thank you!”

“Whoa,” Sokka breathes, “how did you do that?  I can never get her to listen to me.”  Sokka’s only seen her act like that dad, and even that’s a hazy memory at best.  

“I’m the oldest of four brothers,” Raph smiles.  “You learn to be stern.”

“Bossy!”

“Watch it, Leo,” he shouts, but there’s a grin in his tone.  “Don’t think you’re getting out of this scotch free!  Stop antagonizing Toph!”

“What did I do!”

Sokka watches the spirit drag Leo into a headlock and then they’re rolling.  They’re shouting at each other, throwing insults he can’t identify, but there’s laughter too.  Sokka rolls his eyes at the antics and pulls out a small scroll.  He'll need to rework their temporary timeline.  The canceled vacation gives a day back for travel and possibly lets them refuel early.  Well, that depends on where Katara and Toph decide to go.  Still, if he remembers the map correctly, there are few places to stock up no matter the direction.  He throws a considering look at their bags, he should start doing a count now so he’ll know what they’ll need.  The goal is to get in and out of these towns without getting sucked into these ever-increasing side quests.  

“Hey, Sokka!”  He glances up as Aang floats to sit across from him.  “They’ve picked a place.”

Sokka blinks, that was quick.  He sets the scroll down and grabs the map.  “Great, where are going?”

“Here,” Aang taps, “Misty Palms Oasis!  It’s going to be great!  It was beautiful the last time I went.”

‘I’ll take your word for it,” Sokka hums.  His eyes fly over the map.  It’s not too far from where they are now.  Sokka puts a hand against the weathered paper and runs some rough estimates against the length of his fingers.  “Huh,” he mutters.  It’s actually putting them in the direction of the city. “Ok,” he says, “this will work.” 

Aang grins.  “Katara!” he shouts, “Sokka said we can go!”

“Oh, I’m ssooo glad he approves!”

“You’re not angry at me, Katara,” he says.  Sokka picks up his scroll to make some last-minute adjustments to the calendar.  “Get ready, team.  We leave for Misty Palms in half n’ hour.”

So Misty Palms is a bust.  More of a sand dune than an oasis if Sokka’s being honest.  The whole place looks ready to blow over with a strong gust of wind or a short rainstorm.  He walks past the melting attraction without a second glance.  He's seen ice cubes bigger than this ‘pristine natural ice ground’.  He can practically feel the energy flag at the possibly wasted field trip.  Katara shoots him a venomous glare, and Sokka shuffles toward Raph.  “We might have to give them another vacation.”

“No,” Raph whispers.  “We have to stand firm.  Not every vacation is going to be a home run.  Don’t feel bad about this,” the Misty Palms sign falls hard to the ground behind them, exploding in a pile of splinters.  “Yet,” Raph adds, “Come on, there’s got to be a gift shop or something around here.”

“Oh yeah,” Leo says, “A gift shop.  That’ll make up for the crummy vacation.” 

“You’re not helping, Leo!”

They head for the rundown shop in the center.  It’s falling apart, just like everything else in this town, but it’s the only place with people milling around it.  Sokka keeps an eye on the bandaged individuals lining the door as they walk in.  One steps forward, moving his mouth before spitting a large glob of nastiness directly at his feet.  Sokka steps back just in time and draws his hands into tight fists.  The man sends him a toothless grin, but it disappears when a large shadow falls over him.  A scaled hand slams against the wall and the whole building seems to shake from the force.  Raph looks down at the man with a vicious glare.  “We gotta problem here?” Raph snarls.  The man cowers at the show of teeth and slinks off with something that sounds like a ‘no’ on his lips.  

Sokka watches them go with a vicious grin.  “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Raph grunts.  “Come on, let's see if we can turn this vacation around.”

Sokka nods and pushes past the cloth mimicking a door.  The inside is just as run-down, but he spies a bartender making a deliciously looking fancy drink.  He licks his lips, “I don’t see why we can’t get one of those fruity drinks while we figure out our next move.”  He runs to the counter and ignores the small commotion behind him.  He hears a vague apology from Aang before a gust of wind runs through his hair.  Sokka rolls his eyes, the kid is such a showoff.  He pays the man and sips from the cold cup and practically melts.  This drink might turn this awful vacation around.  

He keeps half an ear on the conversation and passes drinks down the line for everyone.  The man continues to question Aang, asking him about air temple agriculture and temple practices when Sokka hears it.  He turns fully, taking in the man's clothes, thick backpack, and the small set of tools hanging from his side.  He sets his finished cup down, “Professor Zei was it?” he says, “you seem like a pretty smart guy.  Do you happen to have an updated map we can look at?”  Clearly, the one Aang’s traveling with is outdated.

“Why certainly!” Professor Zei answers.  “Come, join-,” his eyes grow wide, “are those spirits with you!”

Sokka follows his gaze and sighs.  Leo and Raph are crowded around the bar with a line of cold drinks in front of them.  They’re downing them as fast as they can, and Sokka’s eye twitches when Raph howls ring through the room about a brain freeze.  “Yes, they are,” Katara sighs, “but they’re not as knowledgeable as you think.  Trust me.”

“I heard that!”

Aang covers his mouth but Sokka can see his shoulders shaking.

“Fascinating,” the professor says, “I wonder if they can explain the process of offering between humans and spirits.  Do they receive direct energy from the elemental offerings?  How did the offerings between non-benders and spirits start?  Can-.”

“The map first,” Sokka interrupts, “then we’ll talk about the spirit nonsense later.”

They find a small table in the back and Professor Zei sets a large scroll into his hungry hands.  Sokka unfurls the map and breathes at the sight of updated lines and figures.  He pushes past the Earth Kingdom and lets his fingers trace the map west straight into open water, and nothing else.  Sokka stares at it uncomprehendingly before he pounds a fist against the table.  “No Fire Nation!” he hisses.  “Is there a map with anything about them?”  How could they have gotten rid of everything? ”

Katara peers over his shoulder and tugs at the paper.  “You’ve made a lot of trips into the desert.” 

“All in vain, I’m afraid,” Professor Zei sighs.  “I’ve discovered many lost civilizations all over the Earth Kingdom, but I haven’t found the crown jewel.  Wan Shi-Tong’s library.”

Sokka collapses into the seat and listens with half an ear.  At least they have an updated map.  He can already tell some of their refueling stops will need to be adjusted.  Seeing as they don’t exist anymore.

“-books from all over the world,” the professor continues.  “All in one place so that mankind can better itself."

Books from all over the world?  He sits up, “Do you think it’ll have information on the Fire Nation?” he asks.  “A map maybe?”

“I don’t know,” the professor says, “but if such a thing exists, then it’s in Wan Shi-Tong’s library.”

Sokka stares at the rendered building and feels hope bubble up.  “I know where I want to spend my vacation!”

“What!”

“That’s not fair!” Toph shouts.  “Why do you get a vacation and we had to share ours!?”

Sokka blinks and rolls his shoulders.  What did Raph say about being stern?  “You’re right, Toph.  This isn’t a vacation, it’s a mission.  We need to find this library!  Think of what we might learn.” 

“But!”

“No buts!” Sokka says.  “Look, you get first pick of the Ba Sing Se relaxation days, ok.  I promise.”

Toph just rolls her eyes and slams her cup on the table.  Sokka ignores the attitude and turns back to the professor's map.  He's gotten through half of the desert, but there's a clear line that he does not pass.

“While I’m happy for the company,” the professor says, “The desert is nearly impossible to cross.  I’ve attempted the journey over a dozen times, and I’ve almost died each time.”

Sokka places a hand against the map and roughly measures the size of the desert.  Appa's flown longer distances in his sleep.   He shoots the man a grin, “Professor Zei, how would like to meet our sky bison.”

They head out immediately after that.  Professor Zei runs outside and it takes all four of them to get to the turtles at the bar.  They’re surrounded by a small crowd and the table is littered with gold coins and a staggering amount of empty ice cups.  The spirits are slumped over and groaning and Sokka can’t help but roll his eyes.  These are supposed to be Aang's spiritual guides?

Sokka crosses his arms, “Seriously!”  He looks at the counter and swipes a few coins.  “Ok, it’s time to go.  We have a new mission.”

“One more,” Leo hiccups.  “I can drink twenty without a brain freeze.  I know it.”

“In your dreams,” Raph groans.  “No one beats me in eating challenges.”

“We’re drinking, not eating.”

Toph pushes past him and slides her foot sharply across the ground.  The floor raises beneath the spirits and the spectators fall back with a shout.  Toph pivots, arms up, and the raised earth pushes them out the door.  “Let’s go,” she says, “we have a library to find.”

Sokka takes another handful off the counter and follows Toph outside.  He squints up at the blazing sun with a smile.  He's suddenly glad that Raph made them leave as early as he did.  They could find this library before the day's over!  Small groans reach his ears and Sokka sighs.  “Does Toph need to earthbend you guys back to Appa?”

“No,” Leo huffs, “We’ll meet you over there.  We’re going to throw up first.”

Sokka makes a face, “Come on, Toph.”  He pulls Toph toward the bison before the noises can start.  "They better not get sick in the air," he mumbles.  He's turning the corner for Appa when Toph yanks him back by the wrist.  He shouts, falling backward and just out of the path of a speeding ship.  Sokka watches it sail by in a swirl of sand with thunder in his chest.  “Watch where you’re going!”

“You ok, snoozles?”

“Yeah,” he sighs.  He gets up and pats his shirt.  “I can’t wait to leave this place.”  He jogs the rest of the way and relaxes when he rolls into Appa’s saddle.  The only thing left is their 'Great Spirits.'  He cranes his neck and drops it when he sees two green forms walking their way.  Great, they’ll be soaring out of here in no time.  

“Are we ready to go?”

“Almost,” Sokka says.  “The guys are right behind up.”

“I hate to say it,” Katara says, “but I’m glad we’re leaving.  Those sandbenders were messing with Appa.”

Sokka cracks open an eye, “Really?”

“Yeah,” she answers.  “I'll feel better once we’re in the air.”  

The spirits finally make their way up the bison and Aang doesn’t wait.  Appa rises into the air with a powerful push and he sits up.  “Alright guys,” he starts, “keep your eyes open.  We really don't want to miss anything out here.”  Everyone adjusts until all corners of the saddle are covered and Sokka settles in for the wait.  Flying should give them a huge advantage in finding this library.  You can’t miss much in the air, especially not something that big.  They’ll find this library in no time.  

“You see anything?”

“No,” Katara sighs, “Not yet.”

Sokka huffs and focuses on the miles of desert below them.  They’ve been flying for hours now with nothing to show for it.  Maybe following this professor on his wild goose duck chase wasn’t the best idea.  The library might not even exist anymore, or at all.  His eyes glaze over the endless horizon and he tries not to feel despondent. 

“Great vacation, Snoozles.” 

His jaw twitches.  “You’re not helping.”

“Good, I wasn’t trying to.”

Sokka would shoot the girl a glare, but what’s the point?  Toph can’t see when she’s on Appa anyway.

“Cheer up, kids,” Professor Zei smiles.  “I’m sure we’ll find it.” 

Sokka sinks and rolls his head against the saddle.  Great, another optimist.  He checks the position of the sun and his mood continues to drop.  It’ll be dark in a few hours.  He looks back at the piles and piles of sand and sighs.  He has to keep it interesting.  That pile is bigger than the others, that one goes straight up, and that one has a smoother top.  He blinks.  Sokka explodes forward and nearly falls out of the saddle, “Wait!  What’s that?”

Everyone moves and Appa rumbles at the shift in weight.  Sokka folds a hand over his eyes to block the sun and the shape becomes more distinct.  “Go left, Aang!”

The bison dips through the sky and the structure becomes clearer the closer they get.  Sokka frowns at the skinny pieces of rock.  It’s something alright, but it doesn’t look like a giant mystic library.  They land with a soft thud before the tower and Sokka pulls out the sketched image.

“It doesn’t look like the library,” Katara says.

“It’s gotta be something,” Raph says, “there’s nothing else out here.”

“Look!”

Sokka glances up from the paper and gasps.  A strange animal stands on a sand dune not too far away.  Its pale coat marks it as other in this brown landscape, and a scroll sits behind sharp canines.  Sokka’s never seen anything like it.  “What is that?”

“A fox,” Leo says.

Aang squints, “A foxdog?”

“No,” Leo answers, “a fox.”

“It doesn’t look like a foxcat,” Katara hums.

“Because it’s not!” Leo scowls.  “It’s a fox.  A regular fox!”

Professor Zei pulls in a breath.  “It’s one of Wan Shi Tong’s knowledge seekers!” 

Leo lets out an irritated shout, but Sokka ignores it.  The fox floats past them, its feet scarcely leaving an imprint in the sand, and heads directly for the tower.  Sokka looks on in awe as the fox runs straight up the vertical pillar and disappears into the windows.

Katara tugs the paper out of his hands.  “This is the library,” Katara breathes.  “Look at the picture!  This is the top!”

“Oh no,” Aang moans, “the entire thing is buried!”

He can’t believe it.  The entire library.  Possibly the only place to find anything useful against the Fire Nation, and it’s buried.  “We don’t have time to dig this place up!” he shouts.  He kicks the sand and falls deep into a crouch.  This is so frustrating!  Why is the world working against them?

“I don’t think we’ll have to,” Toph says.  The girl steps forward and buries a hand deep into the stone.  “It’s buried alright, but the inside is empty, and it’s big.  Really big.”

Sokka stands up, which means there’s still a chance.  “What are we waiting for?” Sokka asks.  “I say we climb up there and see what’s inside.”

A hand lands on his shoulder.  “Or,” Raph says, “Leo can portal us in.”

Leo jumps with a sword already in his hand and grabs the rope from Professor Zei’s side.  “All ready on it.”  The spirit disappears in a blaze of blue.  Sokka looks up to see Leo stepping onto the ledge of the open windows.  

“This is great,” Sokka grins.  “Leo will have us inside in no time!”

“Count me out,” Toph says.  “I’ll stay out with Appa.  Books don’t really do it for me.”  

“I’ll stay too,” Raph adds, “they aren’t really my thing either.”

Sokka frowns at the spirit.  “Aren’t you looking for information on your mark?”

“I am,” Raph answers, “but Leo will handle it.  It’s not like I can read anything in there anyway.  And, not for nothing, I did the mystic library mission last time.  It’s his turn.”

What?  A circle of energy splits the air right in front of the pillar and Leo steps out with a grin, “Wow!  That’s one huge library.  Let’s go, people!”

Professor Zei jumps forward.  “Oh, how exhilarating!  I wonder if the text of the first sand tribe is here?  There are theories that they inscribed-.”

Sokka pushes the Professor through the portal.  “Yeah, that all sounds great,” Sokka steps across the swirling blue and stumbles forward onto the walkway.  Sokka takes a short look as the silence echoes around him.  The place isn't like anything he's ever seen, with its sharp architecture and looming statues.  The stuffy scent of old paper and dried ink fills his lungs and Sokka can't stop a cough from escaping.

“Right,” he coughs, “ let’s get in here and-,” he turns and his breath stops in his throat.  An inky black mass stands a few feet from the portal.  It’s huge, bigger than the ancient archways around them.  Its head turns, and Sokka shivers at the white shapes of an avian face.    

There’s a bump against his back and he falls forward.  “Why’d you stop, Sok-.”

The spirit moves then, rolling around the portal like a shifting shadow.  “Interesting way of travel,” the spirit says.  Sokka keeps his eyes on the rolling mass of black until it stops before them.  Its face emerges from the black and Sokka wills himself not to shake.  The white face of a menacing bird stares at them from the shadow of its body. 

“Are,” Sokka stammers, “are you the spirit that brought this library to the physical realm?”

‘Indeed,” it answers.  “I am Wan Shi Tong.  He Who Knows Ten-thousand Things, and you,” it says, “are clearly humans.  Your kind is no longer permitted in my study.”

Sokka frowns.  They can’t leave now.  He knows they’ll find something useful in here, he’s sure of it.

“What do you have against humans?”

“Humans only bother to learn things to get the edge on other humans.  It is in your nature.  So,” it moves then, folding into the very rock, its neck cranes forward with a near soundless crack.  Sokka steps back at the spirit's closeness.  “Who are you trying to destroy?”

Sokka looks into the inky black of the spirit's eyes.  “What!  No, no that’s not us.  We’re not into destroying!”

It blinks.  “Then why are you here?”

“Uh,” he stutters.  He looks around the vast array of books and holds up his arms.  “Knowledge for… knowledge's sake?”

Its eyes narrow.  “If you’re going to lie, then at least put some effort into it.”

Sweat rolls down his back at the tone.  The spirit looks two seconds away from demanding they leave, and they can’t.  What can he say?  What would Aang say-Wait.  “I’m not lying!  I’m here with the Avatar!”  He reaches an arm back and snags a handful of Aangs shirt.  “You know, the bridge and all that.  He’ll vouch for us!”

He swings Aang between him and the spirit.  Silence rings for an excruciating second before Sokka punches him hard in the back.

“OW!” Aang winces, “I-I mean, yes.  I’ll vouch for him.  We will not abuse the knowledge in your library, Great Spirit.”

Sokka bows with the promise but frowns at Aang's back.  Why would he phrase it like that?  He should have left it vague, or at least up to interpretation.  Something tells him this creepy spirit takes things literally.  

“Alright, guys!” Leo says, and Sokka’s heart drops.  He turns to see Leo stepping fully through the portal.  No, no, no.  Leo’s going to blow their cover!  “Raph’s staying with Toph, so-whoa!”  Leo’s jaw drops, “is that a giant owl?”

“Yes!” Sokka jumps in.  He pushes through the others and grabs Leo by the shoulders.  He gives the spirit a small shake and Leo raises an eye ridge.   “Wan Shi Tong.  He just gave us permission to look at his library, as long as we promise,” Sokka emphasizes, “that we don’t abuse the knowledge.  Like for destroying our enemies.”  He turns back to Wan, “Not that we are!  I’m just using your example.”

“Oh,” Leo says.  The turtle gives him a small nod and Sokka’s shoulders drop in relief.  “Of course.”

Wan straightens and the spirit’s head rotates a sickening degree, “and what are you supposed to be?”

Aang steps forward with a smile. “This is Leonardo, my spirit guide.”

Its head continues to twist, “a spirit.”  The bird swoops close to Leo, sinking into the ground until its face is level with the turtle.  “You don’t look like any spirit I’ve ever encountered,”  It blinks, “or felt.”

“Yeah,” Leo says, “that’s what I keep telling people.”

“How curious,” Wan says.

“So, you’re the first spirit I’ve run into here,” Leo starts, “and an owl.  I’ve heard owls are supposed to be knowledgeable and-,” Leo rolls his shoulders and holds out his arm, “-since you’re here, can I ask you to look at something?”  He pulls down the armband and exposes the familiar mark glowing softly against green skin.  “Do you know what this is?”

Wan’s eyes don’t move, but his head twitches.  “A JiaMo,” he pulls back.  “Of course, you’re from across the void.  No wonder you feel foreign to me.  It has been an eon since your kind last graced this plane.”  His head twists again, “where is your master?  I doubt it’s the Avatar.”

“Why not?” Katara asks.

“Because he still has his bending.”

Aang stumbles and Sokka steps back as the room starts spinning.  Bending?  Did Leo take someone’s bending away?  Is that even possible?

Leo grips his wrist, “so you know what this is?  What does it mean?  How do my brothers and I get home!?”

The spirit pulls back until it’s towering over all of them.  “A JiaMo is a deal,” Wan answers.  “A deal thought lost to time and war, but why am I not surprised that humans have brought such a volatile practice back.”  

Leo’s brow furrows, “A deal?”

“Yes,” Wan says, “between human and spirits, or-,” it looms, “-other.”

“But we didn’t enter into any deal?”

“You must have,” Wan says.  “A JiaMo from the human plane is a simple call to the spirits, but a knock across the void.  You and you’re….brothers would have traveled here after you answered.”

Leo’s mouth opens before he drops his head in his hands with a hiss.  “That stupid scroll.”

“Fascinating,” the professor mutters.  “And this knock is with their bending?  What if you’re a non-bender?”

“And why?” Aang asks. “I’ve been to the spirit world plenty of times, and I still have my bending.”

“The spirit world,” Wan says, “but never beyond the void.”  The spirit turns to the professor, “it takes a lot of power to reach across the darkness, and what’s more powerful to a bender than their element?  What is more powerful to a non-bender than their life?”

Sokka's mind buzzes at the implications.  “That doesn’t make any sense!  Why would you give…any of that up for Leo!”  He looks at the turtle, “no offense.”

“Because they are not from here,” Wan says.  “They are not bound by our rules or swayed by the purpose of the Avatar.  They move to the will of their master and leave.”

“But why?” Leo says.  “I’ve never known a yokai to bend to the will of any human!”

“You’re not listening,” Wan says. 

Sokka blinks and drops a hand on Leo’s shoulder.   “A JiaMo is a deal.”

Leo looks at him and back at Wan.  “But I wasn’t offered anything!” Leo shouts.  “And there was no…master waiting for me in the North Pole either!  Or for any of my brothers!”

“That’s right,” Katara adds, “we weren’t doing anything when Leo appeared.  No one was.  Wouldn’t we have seen this person giving up their bending?”  Or dying, Sokka thinks.

“Not necessarily,” Wan answers.  “The knock was made, and it will continue to echo until it is answered.”

Leo’s shoulders drop under Sokka’s hands.  “What are you saying?  That this-this deal might not be recent?”

“Precisely,” Wan answers, “We do not concern ourselves with time as humans do.  I assume it’s the same for your kind as well, and since there is no master with you, then a considerable time must have passed.  Your master is probably deceased.”

“But,” Sokka interrupts, “he landed in front of Aang!  All his brothers landed before living people.  Wouldn’t they pop before a skeleton?”

“No,” Wan says.  “The deal is sent with terms.  They’re still obligated to fulfill it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”  Leo shouts.  “What terms?”

Sokka’s hand falls away from Leo's shoulder as blood rushes to his ears.  It makes perfect sense.  From what Wan has said, this deal is incredibly one-sided, with everything leaning in favor of these other spirits.  If the human making the deal is dead, then the energy will do the next best thing.  Sokka looks at Leo’s ranting form and Aang’s placating hands and can pretty much guess one of the terms.

Find the Avatar.

But what else was in there?  Two of Leo’s brothers landed in front of Fire Nation royalty.  Maybe end the war?  That might be it.  If the Royal Family lost their heirs, then that would throw the nation into political unrest, at least for a short period of time.  But how would the resistance capitalize on that?  Dead heirs don't do anything to an already powerful army.  His brow furrows, but most royals never leave the palace.  If the siblings weren’t so obsessed with the Avatar, then Donnie and Mikey probably would’ve landed in the heart of the Fire Nation.  Sokka brings a hand to his chin.  That makes sense.  He’s sure spirits of their caliber could kill the Fire Lord with no problem, or at least do enough damage for Aang to finish the job.  Sokka looks between Aang and Leo again.  He needs more information.  

“-Is it filling up?”

“I do not know,” Wan answers.  “Each JiaMo is different, and I have not spoken to one in an age.”    

“You have to tell me something!”

Wan’s wings open and the light disappears under the inky black of his anger.  “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Sokka grabs at Leo’s arm.  “Stop,” he hisses, “you’re going to get us kicked out before we can even look at a book.”

Leo doesn’t budge, but his shoulders drop.  “Please.”

Wan’s wings continue to grow before they collapse around him like a closing curtain.  “I do have a small section in here somewhere.  My guide will lead you there.”

Leo folds into a small bow, “Thank you.”  

Wan turns away from them.  “I do not know the particulars of a JiaMo deal,” Wan says, “but there is always a cost.  For the human and the other.  Remember that.”

Toph

“You didn’t have to stay out here with me you know.” 

“I know,” he says, “but I’m not exactly a book guy either, and as I said, it’s Leo’s turn.”

She huffs a smile, “guess that’s another thing we have in common.”

Toph feels Raph move around her but it’s fuzzy.  Weird.  She digs her hand through the sand and lets it slip between her fingers.  She’s heard the servants talk about sand before, but she never thought it would be so…loose.  Toph’s having a hard time finding her footing on the shifting substance.  She thought she knew everything there was to know about her element, she practically eats, breathes, and sleeps earthbending!  She pulls a small amount towards her with a sharp jerk of her arm, but it's unsteady.  Toph can feel clumps falling away the closer the small ball of sand gets.  She releases it with a scowl, it's like she's a beginner all over again.  

Raph takes a blurry step toward Appa.  “They don’t have braille or anything here?”

There goes another made-up word.  “Never heard of it.”

“It’s like writing for blind people,” he says.  

She snorts, “now I know you’re joking.”

“I’m serious!” Raph says.  “They put like, bumps on paper to form certain patterns, and each pattern represents a letter.”

She lifts her head, “really?”

“Really,” he answers.  “You read by touch, here-,” Raph bends down and shuffles through the sand.  “Ok, what do you feel?”

Toph digs a foot into the loose sediment.  “Three piles in a vertical line.”

“Right!  So, that would be a ‘T’.”  He makes another mound directly next to the middle dot, “and by adding another dot that changes the letter.”

“What would that one be?”

“I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t know braille.  This is more of an example.”

“Oh.”  She leans back against the stone pillar.  Well, that was interesting for all of two seconds.

“Yeah, so you’d punch those into special paper,” Raph continues, “then you just drag your fingers over them, and bam!  You’re reading.”

“That’s cool, I guess,” she mutters, “but I don’t think we have that here.”

“Oh,” he says, “did you want to try making it?”

She rolls her neck in his direction.  He can't be serious.  “What?”  

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!  Besides, who knows how long they’ll be in there.”

‘Thanks,” she smiles, “I don’t think I’d be a book person even if I could see.  I’m more of a smash and pummel type of girl.”  It’s a nice offer though.  No one’s even considered teaching her how to read anything.

“We could build sand castles?”

She laughs, “it wouldn't be fair.  I'd wipe the floor with you.”

“Since when did you care about fair,” he huffs.  “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you fumbling in the sand.  I could totally build a better castle than you!”

She grins and pushes to her feet.  “You’re on, Ponytail.”

“Toph,” he sighs, “I thought we were past that.”

She cackles and kicks hard at the loose Earth.  It still feels slippery and non-existent, but she’s not going to lose any competition involving Earth to some spikey spirit.  The hour passes in a blink while they build.  It’s not great, and Raph keeps knocking hers over whenever it remotely starts to feel like something, but it’s fun.  She tugs at the walls of his creation and he throws a handful of sand in retaliation.  She leans forward sputtering, but she’s grinning and he’s laughing.

Neither notice the faint swirl of sand on the horizon.

Chapter Text

Azula

Something is different. 

Azula notices it the moment they finally arrive at the procession of tanks protecting the drill.  She’s seen and worked on the schematics, but it’s different to see the behemoth in person.  The weapon is breathtaking, a monument to the Fire Nation's ingenuity and superiority.  Even Mai’s expression changes under the sheer size of the machine.  Azula feels a smirk grow as she watches the drill move across the land, its power shaking the very earth they stand on.  The so call impenetrable city will fall under the weight of the Fire Nation in a matter of days.  A hum of awe swims through the gathering soldiers as the engineer proudly displays the weapon.

Donatello, however, is far from impressed.  

The spirit hasn’t said a word since they arrived.  Even as the engineer brings them closer to the weapon, his face remains passive.  They stop beside the front portion of the drill and he rises into the air immediately, his metallic wings taking him to the very top of the machine.  Donnie circles the entire length before landing next to her with a flat expression.

Her mouth twitches, “well?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think?”

“Oh,” he says, “my dad said if I don’t have anything nice to say then I probably shouldn’t say it.”

The engineer swallows, “i-is there something wrong with the machine, Great Spirit?”

“No,” he says.  “You did a great job for your…era, very advanced.  I just would’ve approached it differently.”

She raises an eyebrow.  “Approached it how?”

“Efficiently for starters,” he frowns.  “Don’t get me wrong!  I’m……..right under impressed.”  He brings a hand to his chin, “the movement mechanism is definitely a choice.”

Azula looks at the large legs lining the length of the machine.  They rotate through the ground like oars or the sharp legs of an insect.  The machine lets out a massive hiss, steam whistling through the air as the front portion pushes itself across the barren land.  The engineer begins to sweat.  “That’s due to its size, Great Spirit.  We found this the easiest way to move across the expansive lands of the Earth Kingdom.”

“No, I get it,” Donnie says.  “Very, inch worm inspired, but you could have cut the size to save on weight and power, and the height is a bit much, even for me.  Besides, you don’t need this much steel to back up a drill.  Most of the work will be done by the flutes anyway.”  

Azula narrows her eyes at the engineers trembling form.  Donnie pauses, looks between her and the cowering man, and sighs.  “Look, it’s fine.  I’m not saying yours won’t get the job done.  It probably will, I’m just being overly critical. ”

“Yeah,” Ty Lee giggles, “everyone’s not obsessed with drills like you are.”

“Hey,” he says, but the corner of his mouth lifts.  “Drills are an untapped market, and clearly popular across dimensions.  Also, what do I know about earthbenders and their walls?  I’ve never even seen one.”  

Ty Lee laughs again and Azula adjusts her stance.  The interaction shouldn’t catch her attention, but it does.  “That’s enough about the exterior,” Azula says.  She looks to the captain and the man straightens.  “Why don’t you take us through the interior?  Show us where we’ll be staying.”

“Of course, Princess.”  The captain bows and holds out an arm.  “Right this way.” 

They follow the man inside and the space is more compact than she anticipated.  Most of the center is taken up by the massive engine that powers the drill's movements.  The rest is a series of long walkways and steel tunnels.  It reminds her vaguely of the ship, all deep corridors and red lights.  There’s not much to see otherwise.  They’ve just made it to the second floor when the captain stops at the mouth of an intersection.  “These are the rooms we have prepared for you and your guest, Princess.”  He indicates a deep hallway on the left.  “For you, Princess, we have the most protected space in the entire machine.  Your room is the only one down this corridor.  We’ll have guards stationed around the clock when you retire.”

Azula looks down the dark hall.  It’s spacious, with only a single door in the entire hallway.  She walks quickly and pushes the door open.  The room is luxurious, not nearly as big as her personal wing back at the palace, but it will do.  She closes the door with a click, “I see no expense was spared,” she comments, “and the other rooms?”

The captain lets out a breath.  “A similar room has been prepared for the spirit on the opposite side, directly across the walkway.”  He walks further down, “as for your friends.  There is one additional room on each side of the drill in this section.  We’ll move the luggage once the rooms are assigned.” 

Ty Lee slides over and wraps around the spirit's arm with a wide grin.  “I call Donnie’s side!”

Her eyes thin, “that’s surprising,” Azula says.  “Typically I decide the rooms.”

Ty Lee’s smile drops, but her grip remains firm.  “Y-yeah,” she says, “but Donnie and I are just starting to bond.”  Azula turns.  Bond?  

A green hand grabs the girl's wrist.  “I don’t mind,” he says.  He pushes the acrobat away with a small smile, “what did I say about the physical contact?”

“Sorry,” she giggles, “I’m working on it.” 

Azula watches the exchange with clenched teeth.  They’re close now, closer than she anticipated.  She looks at Mai.  “Are you ok with the arrangement?”

“Please,” the girl huffs.  “She can have him.  I can’t stand the attitude.”

“Hey,” he protests, “I think I’ve been pretty cheerful these last few days.”

“Whatever,” Mai sighs.  “Is there anything else to look at or is this it?”

“There is one last feature,” the captain answers.  “I’ll guide you to the observation station.”

They start moving, the captain's voice echoing off the steel walls, but Azula is hardly listening.  She has noticed a change in the spirit's mood over the last few days.  The irritability that hangs around him like a dark cloud is now an ambivalent grey.  He still mutters about timelines and useless documents, but there’s less bite in his tone.  Azula lets her gaze slide to the two.  Ty Lee and Donnie walk a little behind her, and their voices mix with the heavy baritones of the captains.  A light laugh is smothered by small fingers and Azula curls her hand into a fist.  

She’ll admit that she’s been preoccupied with this project.  Her refusal to fail at the wall like her foolish uncle has pushed her limits.  Everything has been meticulously planned down to the last detail.  She has more than enough soldiers to support this attack, and once they breach the wall, it’s over.  Her absolute best chance at success, however, is to complete this before the Avatar arrives in the city.  It will be too late after the wall falls, even if the Avatar and his spirits decide to join the battle.  So yes, winning the war for her Nation has taken up a large portion of her attention, but she had not anticipated this.  The spirit keeps a wall between himself and this entire world.  From the high-ranking Sages and War Minsters to the lowest of servants.  Even with her, there’s a small line she can’t seem to cross.  Azula sees it in all of his interactions, and it was no different with Mai and Ty Lee.

But now.

Now, something has changed, she thinks.  There is still a wall, but it’s thinner with the acrobat, less fortified.  Could it be because she is a non-bender?  No.  His attitude has not changed with Mai.  So what has changed?

“Here is the observation room,” the captain says.  He opens up the door and lets them pass with a small bow.  Azula sets her shoulders and focuses on the room.  It’s spacious, filled to the brim with rows of controls, each under the quick hands of a worker.  “This feature,” the captain says, “will allow you to view the progress of the drill.”  He pulls a lever and the room shakes.  Azula bends her knee for balance and the entire room sings up and into the air, and it doesn’t stop until they’re high above the moving drill.  She looks out the window and takes in the miles of open land and rumbling tanks stretched before her.

“Ok,” Donnie says, “this is pretty cool.”

“How?” Mai snorts.  “All it did was lift us in the air.”

“There’s no pleasing you.”

The captain pushes the lever with a cough and the control room folds back into the main body.  “The War Minister was hoping for a bit of your time after the tour, Princess.”

“Of course,” she sighs.  “Take me to him, and tell the servants to bring me a meal.”  The minister is long-winded if his reports are anything to go off of.  “You guys can head for your quarters,” she says.  “I’ll see you all for dinner.”

The Minister bows for the fifth time, another useless compliment falling from his lips, before leaving the room.  Azula leans back with a sigh.  The meeting was utterly useless.  The Minister used the time to go on and on about his greatness and the surety of the plan.  Azula knows what he’s really after.  An accommodation.  As if such an obvious display of flattery was enough to win her over.  How can so many foolish people be in such a position of power?   

There’s a knock at the door and she frowns at the interruption.  “What is it?”

A servant enters with a bow.  “A message, Princess.” 

Azula holds out a hand and a thick scroll lands against her palm.  She unrolls it with a bored expression before sitting up.  The title spreads across the top in sharp characters and Azula smiles.  It’s a scroll from the temple.  Her finger slides against the parchment, a restricted one if the weight and quality of the paper are anything to go by.  “Excellent,” she says.  She gets to her feet and walks past the servant.

She walks out of the room and the guards follow behind without a word.  She’s surprised that the scroll was released so quickly into her custody.  Since Jian had so much trouble getting his list of information approved, even on the spirit's behalf.  Azula smirks down at the scroll in her hands.  Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised.  There is nothing in the Nation that isn’t hers by right.  The idiots at the temple wouldn’t dare disobey royalty.  Not when such disobedience has clear and permanent consequences.  

Her feet take her across the steel bridge that connects her side of the drill to the spirits.  She stands in the mouth of his private hallway and holds up a hand.  “Stand guard.”  The guards don’t speak, but she hears them pivot until they’re stationed on both sides of the hallway.  

Azula stops just outside Donnie’s room.  She raises a fist, but a muffled sound causes Azula to pause.  The muted sounds get louder, forming the shape of a laugh and she narrows her eyes at the familiarity of the pitch.  It’s Ty Lee.  She knew they were growing close, it’s hard not to notice it, but this?  That thin wall she so desperately wanted to see between the two has fallen away.  When did Ty Lee cross the obvious line while she’s still so rooted to the other side? 

Azula steps back, leans against the wall, and tries to contain her growing fury.  She waits for what feels like hours for the door to open.  Ty Lee spills out with a giggle and wave and closes the door behind her with a soft click.  The girl twirls, humming softly before she sucks in a stuttering breath.  Ty Lee’s eyes go wide as Azula pushes away from the cold steel.  “Hello, Ty Lee.”

“A-Azula!”  She stammers, “what are you doing here?”

Her lips fold at the audacity.  “Do I need a reason to roam around my own vessel?” she asks.

“N-no.”

She steps forward, “but what are you doing here, Ty Lee?  I’m sure I told everyone to head to their quarters?”

“Oh, I was just visiting.  You know, making sure he’s settling in ok.”

“How thoughtful,” she hums.  “What were you guys talking about?  It sounded like quite the fun conversation.”

“Oh, nothing,” Ty Le smiles, but it’s strained.  “He was just telling me a story about his brothers.  You know how he gets.”

“I do,” she says.  “Did you guys discuss anything else?”

Ty Lee tenses and Azula zeros in on the reaction.  “Nope!  Just talking about family.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Ty Lee nods.  “I-I need to get ready for dinner,” Ty Lee edges around her.  “I’ll see you later.”

“I don’t remember dismissing you.” 

Ty Lee stops beside her, but the girl's eyes never leave the floor.  Azula takes in her trembling form and shifty expression with narrowed eyes.  There is no reason for the girl to be so jumpy if the meeting was as innocent as she claims.  The acrobat’s an open book when you know what to look for.  This cowering behavior can only mean one thing.

She’s hiding something.

Anger like nothing Azula’s ever experienced washes over her in a flash of blinding white.  How dare Ty Lee hide something from her?  She’s given the girl everything.  An identity.  A purpose.  And Ty Lee would betray her so openly?  I’ll destroy her, she thinks, starting with her family.  She’ll burn Ty Lee’s life to the ground until there’s nothing but ash in its place.  She’ll know her place then.  

“Azula?”

She blinks and the heat dissipates from her skin.  The spirit stands in the mouth of his room with a hard look and damp skin.  Her heart beats and she looks at the scroll in her scorching grip.  It sits in pristine condition in her hand and she lets out a hiss at the loss of control.  She would have burned this scroll in her rage.  “Leave,” she commands and Ty Lee takes off down the hallway.

Azula glares at the spirit and pushes her way into his room.  It’s not much different from hers.  Her eyes fall to the small floor table positioned in the center of the room.  Two cups sit innocently on the wooden surface and she seethes.

“Why hello to you too,” Donnie says.  He walks past her and collapses to the floor, and props an elbow onto the table, “What do I owe this visit?”  

“I didn’t realize you’ve grown so close with Ty Lee,” she hisses. 

He blinks.  “Ok,” he says, “she’s cool people.  I told you she reminds me of my brother, remember?”

She pauses at this, that can’t be it.  Donnie isn’t close to anyone here.  How can a little bit of familiarity get Ty Lee over his wall?  He’s lying.  “Really?” She scoffs.  “So much so that you’re sharing secrets.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she spits.  

“Azula,” he sighs, “relax.  Yes, she knows something that you don’t, but it’s not a big deal.”

She blinks at the admission.  “Then why don’t I know?  Since it’s not a big deal?”

“Because you’re the Princess of a very large nation and very loyal to your unhinged father,” he says.  “I know you’d tell him in a heartbeat.”

The frankness of the spirit throws her anger off kilter.  She studies him, but there is nothing but calmness in his posture.  Her anger drowns under confusion.  Why is he telling her this?  “Is it a weakness?” she asks.

“No,” he answers, “but some will see it that way.”  

She frowns, “why are you telling me this?”

“As I said,” he shrugs, “you’re growing on me, but not enough to share this with you.  You’re still a wildcard.  A dangerous wildcard.”

Her lips twitch at the compliment.  “You know this will just make me more curious?  I’m bound to discover this little pact between you two eventually.”

“I’m sure you will,” he yawns.  “Was there anything else or were you just snooping on Ty Lee?”

“I don’t snoop,” she scoffs, “that’s beneath me.” 

“Sure,” he laughs, “so, again.  What can I help you with?”

Azula rolls her eyes and steps forward.  She holds out the thick roll of paper.  “Here.”

He blinks at the scroll before taking it with a slight frown.  It unfolds under green hands and his eyes scan the character in quick succession.  His expression opens with each whispered word.   “A History of,” he mumbles, “...conflict…symbols…power.”  He looks up and there’s awe in his eyes.  “Did you get this for me?”

She steps back.  “Yes, but only because you were impossible to deal with.  Your moping was putting everyone on edge.”  She looks away, “it was no problem for me to get this for you, I am a Princess after all.  They wouldn’t dare defy a direct order from royalty.  Let this be an example to you and Jian that my power-.”

“Hey,” he interrupts.  “Thank you,” he says and the sincerity in his tone kills the rant on her tongue.  She stares at him, searches his face for a hint of….something but there’s nothing. 

She flicks a bang and folds her hands behind her.  “Yes, well,” she straightens and pivots on her heels.  “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Wait,” he says.  She places her palm on the handle but doesn’t turn it.  There’s a familiar rustle of pieces.  “Do you want to play a game?  We haven’t played in a while.”

“Don’t you want to read your scroll?”

“It can wait till after dinner.”

She doesn’t move for a long time before turning with a sigh.  “If you insist.” 

Donnie rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.  She folds herself on the opposite side of the small table while he lays out the pieces.  Azula smiles when he spins the board so the white pieces are under her control.  She moves a pawn to the center and the game begins.  It’s easy and lighter than any game they’ve played in the past, and she finds herself relaxing as the game progresses.  She doesn’t win, but she had more control of the center than ever before.

“A Queen’s Gambit,” he hums.  He rearranges the board and flips the pieces.  “It’s ironic that you found that opening.”  He moves a pawn off-center.

“Oh,” she answers, moving a pawn in response. “How so?”

He activates a knight.  “It’s a popular chess opening.  It sacrifices a pawn to gain control of the center.”  Azula opens a line for her bishop and he moves a pawn.  “Although, maybe it isn’t odd that you found it.”

The game continues to build and Azula fortifies her left flank with a late castle.  “A sacrifice gets me a better position,” she says.  She frowns when he moves a rook, “but it doesn’t secure me the win.  The right sacrifice at the right time will.”

“True,” he says, “but you’re getting a lot better.”

She slides a bishop across the board with a smirk.  “Of course I am.”

She holds her own against his attacks as the middle game develops.  Donnie has a brutal tendency for efficiency as more material is exchanged, but it is also his weakness.  Efficiency.  It limits his thinking in certain moments in the game, and Azula is discovering that creativity will almost always trip him up.  She closes a file with a simple pawn and suddenly she’s on the offense.

“What will you do?” she asks, “when I begin my assault on Ba Sing Se?”  Donnie’s only been able to afford his neutrality because the hunts so far have been personal, but this is war.  Will he allow her to take the city, or will his morality fall alongside his brothers?

He moves a knight.  “I’m not sure,” he answers.  She defends with a rook and he attacks with a bishop.  She stares at the board, they’re both in trouble of losing material.  “I guess that depends on how well your drill does the job.” 

Toph

She’s on her fifth walk around the stupid tower when she stops with a frustrated kick.  The turtle's too busy basking in the burning sun to even look up at the small sprinkle of earth. He abandoned any further ideas of fun ages ago.  The heat ‘just too comfortable on his shell’ to ignore.  Please.

“Geez,” Toph sighs, “what are they doing?  Reading the entire library?”

“Sure seems like it,” Raph mutters.  “I didn’t realize how slow time passes without a phone.  You guys don’t even have any cards!”  

“Not like I could play cards anyway,” Toph huffs and flops next to the spirit.  The sandcastles were fun, but they lost their appeal over the course of a few hours.  “It’s hot.”

“It’s nice,” he mumbles, “but I guess we could use a waterbender.”

“Sugerqueen?” Toph asks.  “What’s she gonna do?”

His head rolls in her direction, “I don’t know, make water?”

“She doesn’t make water, dumdum,” she laughs, “she bends it.”

“Sounds the same to me.”

Toph opens her mouth, ready to rip him a new one on benders and their elements when the ground moves.  She rolls over but doesn’t get up.  Top digs her hands into the sand with a frown.  There’s another shake, a groan and the pillar drops a few inches with a shudder against her palms.  Toph whips up, moving her hands unbelievingly in the direction of the only stone for miles.   “The library’s sinking,” she says.  The tower drops again, but this time with more speed.  “The library’s sinking! ”  Toph’s pushing her hands into the falling stone before she even realizes she’s moving.  

The massive weight of the stone slams hard against her arms.  Her knees buckle, the sand too loose to hold her form and she’s forced to let go.  She moves quickly, hardening what she can with a quick twist of her wrist, before slamming her hands back into the pillar.  There’s a bang behind her, the familiar buzz of Raph’s spiritual energy, before the weight on her arms switches from bone-breaking to bearable.  

“I gotcha Toph,” Raph says.  His voice comes out above her, and she can feel the faint vibrations of his giant spiritual arms wrapped around the tower.

“What do we do?” she shouts, “you don’t think it’s being pulled into the spirit world do you?”

“I hope not!” he says, “I don’t know if Leo can portal out of there!”

Toph swallows, “this isn’t good!”  Toph doesn’t know the first thing about the spirit world, let alone how to get there.

 “Don’t worry,” he grunts, “We just have to wait for Leo to open a portal.”

“But what if-.”

“He will Toph,” Raph interrupts.  “Leo will get them out of there.  We just have to hold this up until he can.”

Toph closes her mouth with a click.  Raph’s right.  Stringbean will get them out, there’s no other option.  The ground continues to rumble under them, a force like nothing she’s ever felt tugs at the other end of the building, but she won’t let go.  She can’t let go.  Please, she thinks, hurry up and open the stupid portal.

Toph’s adjusting her feet when a faint rumble runs up her heel.  She digs her foot against the hardened sand and frowns at the steady vibrations in the distance.  “Raph!  Something’s coming our way!”  It’s too fast to be people and too swift to be an animal.

“What?”  She feels him shifting against the stone.  “Oh no.”

‘What?”

“It’s those bandage guys,” He says.  “From the Oasis!”

Bandages?  She rolls her foot and the fuzziness clears just a bit.  The swiftness smoothes into something sharp and the faint unnatural pull of sand makes her heart drop.  “You mean the sandbenders?”

“If that’s what they are,” he says, “and I don’t think they’re here to help.”

Shoot, shoot, shoot.  The library slips further into the sand.  “How many are there?”  She hisses. “Raph?”

“A lot,” he says.  “Twenty or thirty at least.”  

“Shit,” she breathes and he doesn’t even bother to nag her about the language.  “What do we do?”

“Toph,” He says, “can you hold this by yourself?”

Her lips thin into a tight line.  The pressure against her shaking arms has grown to a bone-breaking degree.  Her knees quiver under the want to buckle and she can’t feel her fingers.  She can’t hold this library up, not by herself.  The vibration form into something solid and she can finally feel the long line of sliders coming their way.  Toph closes her eyes, sets her shoulders, and sucks in a breath.  “Yes.”

A wave of sand lifts into the air at his release.  The library shudders, shaking everything in a mile radius and the weight doubles against her arms.  Her knee rolls and the weight doubles to the point that she can hear her elbows creak, but she doesn’t fall.  She pushes into the building with a shout and the library slows again.  She’s got this.

Raph’s spiritual form moves blurrily in front of her and Appa.  His fist comes together in two powerful thumps.   “Come on!”  

The spirit’s moving as soon as the benders get close.  A gigantic arm hums against the dunes before pushing across the land in a powerful sweep.  There’s shouting, the sounds of wood splintering, but Toph feels the glide of a majority of the sliders move away from the attack.  The sandbenders land heavily against the dunes and move closer to the spirit.  Raph attacks in quick succession, his powerful fist raining against her senses, but the sandbenders sink into the element surrounding them.

The land moves around Raph in large crushing amounts and Toph feels the soft sizzle of an arm fall against the ground before the projection fades away.  Toph curls her fings into the stone at the forceful impacts behind her.  Raph lets out a powerful shout, another fist vibrating against the sand and multiple feet lift away from her senses.  

The sandbenders don't give up, they pull at the loose sediment and it splits open beneath the spirit.  He falls to his knees with a grunt and huge ropes of the shifting substance burst from the ground.  They wrap high above the spirit in heavy vibrations before the benders drag him under.  He disappears beneath the loose earth with a strangled shout and her heart freezes.

“Raph!”  

Appa bellows, loud and angry, and her breath stutters in her chest.  They have the animal surrounded.  A memory surfaces and she sucks in a breath.  Appa, they’re after the bison.  A powerful punch bursts through the dune and Raph comes up gasping.

“Raph!” She shouts, “they’re after Appa!” 

His growl rumbles through the chaos and his arms double in size against the dunes.  He throws one forward and the feet caging the bison in lift off the ground with terrified shouts.  The sandbenders move around Raph and vanish into the sand without a sound.  Toph’s heart beats loud in her ears as she feels them move around the spirit.  Raph’s good, but there are so many of them.  So many benders jumping and pulling at him with an element that cages them on all sides.   They pop up around the spirit, bending heavy and sharp sand that cuts through the bulk of his projections.  She grits her teeth at every electric limb that buzzes against the ground, but Raph never stops moving.  Never stops fighting.

He rips ropes of sand away from his neck and punches through clusters of benders when he can, but it’s no use.  The sandbenders are in their element, moving tons of the substance between the lot of them and unleashing the weight of the attacks on the spirit.

It’s never-ending.

One shouts, words lost to the mayhem, but the benders shift, pulling away from the fighting spirit.  They form a loose circle around Raph and their movements pull in unison.  Toph feels the sand split again, but this time it’s different.  Deeper.  They pull back huge curtains of sand, and she gasps at the height.  It feels as tall as the tower, and the dunes split so far down that she can’t feel the bottom.  Raph slides down the steep incline with a yelp.  Toph drops the building and tries to kick something solid for him to grab onto, but it’s useless.  It crumbles under his grip and she’s forced to dig back into the sinking building. 

She can feel Raph’s power scrape against the almost vertical rolling substance but it’s all in vain.  He continues to slide and the sandbenders are already moving.  The fine particles wrap themself around the spirit in fragmented ropes and drag him deeper into the enormous pit.  He’s falling faster now, and she’s starting to lose track of him with her senses.  There’s a shift, a uniform push, and the wall of sand crashes over the spirit in a powerful wave, swallowing him whole. 

“RAPH!”

Five feet.

Ten feet.

Fifteen feet.

She loses track of him after twenty and her breath shakes in her lungs.  Everything is too loud.  The shouts and whips of the thieves.  Appa’s awful awful groaning.  The crumbling weight threatening to break her arms, and the soul-crushing silence against the arch of her feet.  They’ve pulled him so deep and sand can get so so heavy.   A ringing builds to something so horrific that it’s the only thing she can hear.

She can’t breathe.

“You didn’t say anything about-.”

“-Just muzzle it -.”

“-about the spirit?”

“-leave it!”  A rough voice shouts.  “Grab the unconscious.  We leave now!”

Appa thrashes against the dune with a painful bellow as they drag him away and her breath hitches.  She can’t do anything.  She can’t stop them from taking Appa.  she can’t split the sand to save Raph.  She can’t do anything but dig her feet deeper and hold the building up.  “I’m sorry,” she cries.  “I’m sorry Raph.  I’m sorry Appa.”  

She can’t even wipe her tears.

Appa’s painful roars fade against the horizon and her tears fall harder.  “Please,” she begs, “Please, Aang.  You have to come out right now,” but there’s no response.  No faint crackle of electricity to indicate a portal screeching into existence, and no sounds of the Avatar saving the day.  Only the thundering sound of a capsizing building fills the air.  The ground trembles then, a small vibration that crawls up her spine like an earthquake.  An explosion of sand booms through the space behind her, showering her in dust and stinging sediment, and she screams.  She moves a foot, forcing herself to get a read through the fuzziness and her heart stops.  “Raph?”

The spirit doesn’t say anything, but she knows it’s him.  She’d recognize the not-right feeling of his spiritual vibrations anywhere.  “Raph!  Are you ok?”  No response.  “Raph?”

Rough, jagged breaths shake through the air but the spirit doesn’t speak.  The flicker of his energy jitters against her senses, but it’s not right.  It stutters in a way she’s never felt before, and the jagged breaths transform into a low, rumbling growl.  There’s a heavy thump against the sand and the distinct shape of two large fists flair against her feet.  She slips, the library sinking with a low rumble and Raph lets out an animalist roar.  He moves, his spiritual legs clearing large amounts of space easily in the direction of the sandbenders.  “Raph!” she shouts.  What is he doing?  “WAIT!! RAPH!!”

He doesn’t stop, his feet pounding against the sand until he too is a distant sound on the horizon.  Then it’s just her, alone, elbows deep in a sinking building.   She can’t hear anything, can’t feel anything other than this screaming building.   “It’s going to be ok,” she sniffs, “he went after Appa.  He’ll come back.” 

Except he doesn’t.  She’s alone when a too-late portal crackles to life behind her.  Alone to bear the brunt of the righteous anger of the smaller spirit and the furious accusations of the Avatar.  Alone under the weight of their disappointment and her failure.

It’s heavier than the library.

Chapter Text

Katara

The wind blows harshly over the barren landscape as Toph explains what happened.  It doesn’t feel real that Appa is gone.  They just survived the library, they just found a devastating weakness.  They should be celebrating, not looking at another insurmountable problem so quickly.  Katara blinks at the sting of sand against her skin and wipes at the pooling sweat around her neck.  She looks up at the sky as Toph goes silent and remembers how peaceful it looked from the air.  A rough wind of sand nicks the corner of her eye and she winces.  It seems so hostile now.

Aang’s silent and it’s the only reprieve before the explosion.  “How could you let this happen!” 

“The library was sinking!” Toph shouts.  “You guys were still inside and there were so many-.”

“You should’ve come and got us,” Aang interrupts.  “I could have saved him!”

“I can hardly see anything!” she says.  “There were like thirty of them!  Raph tried-.”

“Where is my brother?” Leo asks and his voice is cold, “or did you let them take him too?”  Toph’s shoulders go tight and Katara sucks in a breath.  Leo’s face falls into something furious, “Why didn’t you let the library sink?!  I would have just portaled us out of there!”

“Raph didn’t want to take that chance!” Toph says.  “We didn’t know if the library was going to the spirit world!  He didn’t know if you could portal from there!”

Leo turns away from the accusation but Aang doesn’t.  He stalks over, angrier than anything Katara’s ever seen.  He stops inches away from Toph, “you just didn’t care!  You’ve never liked Appa!  You wanted him gone!”

Katara steps forward, they can’t fight each other, not now, but the spirit beats her to it.  “Hey!” Leo shouts.  He places a firm hand against Aang’s chest.  “Back off!”

Aang slaps the hand away with an incredulous glare.  “Why are you protecting her?!  You don’t even like Toph!”

Leo scowls but doesn’t answer.  He turns back to the small earthbender and sets an unyielding grip on her shoulder.  “If they didn’t take Raph, then where is he?”

Toph steps back at the tone, “I don’t know,” Toph cries.  “He pulled himself out of the sand and-and took off after them.  He wouldn’t talk to me!”

“At least one of you tried to save Appa,” Aang hisses.

Katara places a hand on the airbenders shoulder.  “That’s not fair, Aang,” Katara frowns.  “Toph did all she could.  She saved our lives.”

“Who’s going to save our lives now?” Sokka whispers.  He throws an arm at the emptiness and the lowering sun.  “It’s going to be dark in a few hours.  We’ll never make it out of here.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.  Aang shrugs out from under her hold and walks away.  “That’s all any of you guys care about, yourselves!  None of you care if Appa’s ok or not!”

“Get off your high horse, Aang!”  Leo sneers, “Appa isn’t the only one missing.  My brother could be anywhere in this stupid desert looking for your bison!  He can’t be by himself!”

“At least he’s doing something!” Aang counters.  “You should want to find Appa!  You’re my spir-.”

“WE’RE NOT YOUR SPIRITS!” Leo roars.  “It’s not our job to help you!  It’s not our job to do anything,”  Leo rolls clenched fists against his head.  “You know what, maybe I am selfish.  I don’t want to help you find Appa right now.  I want to find my brother.”

Silence swallows the group like a deep breath.  Katara watches Aang's expression crumble in shock and hurt.  She steps toward him, but his face pinches into something hard.  “You guys do what you want!” Aang says, “I’m going after Appa.”  Aang spins the staff, wings popping from the side of the glider before pushing off with a powerful gust of wind.

She has no choice but to watch him fly off into the air.  Aang slips into nothingness against the horizon without a single look back.  Katara's hands tremble at her side and her eyes sting at the departure.  She glares at the spirit.  “Why would you say that?”

Leo sets his jaw.  “It needed to be said.  My brothers and I don’t jump because you guys tell us to.  I don’t care what that creepy owl said.”  He turns from her and walks toward the splintered remains of a ship.  

Katara drags an arm across her eyes and sets her shoulders, they need to focus on getting out of here.  “Is it useable?”

“No,” Leo sighs, “there’s too much damage.”  The spirit steps around the wreckage and squats beside a deep impression in the sand.  He touches the edge of the slowly filling print.  “These are Raph’s footsteps,” he says, “we should follow them.  If he went after the sandbenders then we might find a way out of the desert.”

Katara studies the large footprints and takes in the growing wind.  It’s not the same as the blizzards back home, but she’s lived around loose elements all her life to know when time is of the essence.  The wind will wipe these prints away if they don’t hurry.  She looks at the sky and the direction Aang took off in.  She doesn’t want to leave him, but they have no choice.  “Then let’s go,” she says.  “We’re the only people who know about the solar eclipse.  We have to get this information to Ba Sing Se.”

Leo’s already walking before she finishes her sentence.  Katara tugs Toph a bit in the right direction before dropping her arm.  The girl just follows behind her without a sound.  “Are you ok?”

“No,” Toph says, “I’m not.”  The earthbender walks past her and Katara frowns.  The entire conversation just went horribly wrong.  Toph did the best she could, but they don’t have time to address it.  She lowers her hand and catches up with the spirit.

Sokka groans but follows them anyway.  “Can’t you just portal us out of here?”

“In which direction?” The spirit snorts but pauses.  “I could get us back to the Oasis, but I’m not leaving here without Raph,” he glances at the sky, “or Aang.”

“We can’t go back to the Oasis!” Sokka cries, “that would put us behind by days, and that’s with Appa!” 

“That will be our last option,” Katara says.  “Let’s just keep walking."

They follow the tracks for what feels like hours under the blistering sun before the wind wipes the last of the tracks away.  Katara tries not to let her shoulders fall as she looks at the barren landscape.  She knew they would lose the trail eventually, but it was their only lead.

“Great,” Sokka says, “what do we do now?”

“We keep going,” Leo says.  “We have no choice.”

“Leo’s right,” Katara says, “we can’t stop now.  We have to keep going forward.”

“It’s so hot,” Toph sighs.  “Katara, can I have some water?”

The no is on the tip of her tongue, but Toph's face is so red and she’s so small.  Katara bends her knees, “ok, but we have to conserve what we have.”  The water flows from her pouch and she divides it into four small orbs.  Toph and Sokka accept it with a sense of relief and she turns to Leo.

The spirit puts his hand up, “I’m good.  You should save that for yourself.”

“Are you sure?” she asks.  “It’s really hot out here.”

“I’m sure,” he promises, “the mutant look isn’t just for show.  I should be ok without water until the morning.  Hopefully, our situation has changed by then.”

Sokka smacks his lips and his face scrunches in disgust.  “This is your bending water.  You used this on those swamp guys!”

“It does taste kind of swampy,” Toph grimaces.

Katara’s fingers twitch and she pulls in a breath.  “It’s all I have.  We can’t get dehydrated out here.”

Sokka rolls his neck and stops.  He blinks and a wide grin spreads across his face.  “Not anymore, look!”  Katara follows his gaze and stares at the spark of green against the endless brown of the desert.  She squints at the tall cactus, was that always there?

Sokka takes off for the plant, his machete already drawn, when Leo’s hand comes out and snags Sokka by the collar.  “Are you crazy!  You never eat or drink from unknown plants!  Has no one seen Into the Wild!”

Sokka pulls against the hold.  “You’re not making any sense!”

“Nevermind,” Leo groans.  He drags the boy back, but Sokka slithers out of his tunic in an impossible wiggle.  Leo stumbles at the change of weight and Sokka makes a break for the cactus.  The spirit growls and pivots hard against the sand.  Leo takes three quick steps before tackling Sokka mear inches from the cactus.  He wraps an arm around the struggling boy's neck and pins his outstretched arm against the ground.  “Will you stop it?” Leo grunts.  “I’m trying to help you!”

“It doesn’t feel like it!” Sokka shouts.  He tries to crawl forward, but the weight of the turtle keeps him pinned.  “Get off me!”

“Sokka,” Katara sighs, “Leo’s right.  We don’t know anything about that plant-.”

“Ow!” Leo shouts.  The spirit rolls off Sokka and shakes out his arm.  He studies the appendage and Katara can make out the small ring of marks against his skin.  “What is with you water siblings and the biting?!”

Her jaw drops.  “What!  You bit me!”

“That’s not how I remember it!”  

“Whoa,” Toph chuckles and Katara startles at the sound.  “You guys had some fun adventures before I joined.”

Katara opens her mouth but the soft thunks of metal make her stop.  She whips around just in time to see Sokka down a mouthful of green liquid.  “Sokka no!”  She grabs Toph's arms and runs for her brother, but she knows it’s too late.  She slows, studying him as he downs another mouthful of the cactus water.

Sokka places a small portion on the ground for Momo.  “There’s water inside.”  He stands up with a slight shake.  “Have some!  It will quench your thirst.”

She stares at the prickly bowl in his grip and glances back at Sokka’s grinning face.  Everything seems fine.  The very next second he falls into nonsense and gibberish.  Katara watches him wiggle across the sand with growing exasperation and dumps the cactus liquid.  She looks up as Momo flies in repeating circles over her head.  Great.  This is exactly what they needed.

Leo grabs Sokka’s flailing form and starts walking.  “Come on,” he sighs, “we can’t stop moving.”

Katara nods and taps Toph lightly on the back.  They follow slowly behind the spirit when a distant roar stops them in their tracks.  Katara looks around, heart in her throat, and flinches when an explosion shakes the air around them.  Behind them blooms a huge cloud of sand.  She brings an arm up at the sudden gust of wind, “what was that?”

Sokka gets up, singing something about mushrooms, but Leo’s not looking at the puff of sand.  Instead, he’s looking straight ahead with an expression she’s never seen before.  He starts walking, “Let’s go.”

Katara takes one last look at the cloud and follows Leo further into the desert.  The spirit doesn’t speak at all, a new tension running across his face after the explosion.  He's moving with a purpose now, setting a brisk pace as if he knows where he's going.  The fear of losing another member has Katara calling out multiple times for him to slow down.  He does, but just enough to stay in her line of sight.  Katara huffs but forces one foot in front of the other.  Something's got the spirit spooked, she just wishes he would tell her what.

They’ve been walking at a punishing pace for over an hour when Aang lands behind them in a typhoon of wind.  Katara shields herself from the sand but doesn’t take her eyes off the airebender.  Aang stays crouched against the ground and he looks defeated.  Broken.  Katara finds herself beside him before she realizes it.  She places a hand on his back.  “I’m so sorry Aang.  I know this is hard, but we have to focus on getting out of here.  We need to get to Ba Sing Se.”

He turns to her, his face red and subdued.  “What’s the point?  We won’t survive without Appa, we all know it.”

“That’s not true, Aang,” Katara says, “we can survive this together.  Plus, Leo said he could get us back to the Misty Palms Oasis as a last resort.”

Aang throws a poisonous look at the spirit.  “Oh, now he wants to help.  I thought he didn’t have to.”

“I don’t!”

“Stop it you guys,” she sighs.  “We need to focus on getting out of here.  Toph, any ideas?”

“I've got nothing,” Toph answers.  “As far as I can tell?  We’re in the middle of one giant sand bowl.”

She frowns, “Sokka?”

He lifts an arm and points a wobbly finger at the sky above.  “Why don’t we ask the pretty birds?”

She looks up and her stomach drops to her feet.  Four large buzzard wasps circle the darkening air lazily above them.  She lowers a hand to her dwindling water pouch, but the birds don’t lower from their dizzying height.  They just circle the group, waiting for the inevitable drop of their weakened bodies.

“Are those,” Leo squints, “vulture bees?  How does that even work?”

Katara looks around the group.  Takes in Toph’s swaying form, Aang’s despondent huddle, and Sokka’s faint ramblings.  The only one still standing with her is Leo, and even he seems far away.  His attention stuck on the horizon.  The spirit turns to her suddenly.  “I can send you guys back to the Oasis,” he says.  “It might be time to call it, Katara.”

She hears the unsaid exclusion.  “What about you?”

“I’ll come find you guys after I find Raph,” he answers.  Leo looks ahead, a sharp line running across his shoulders.  “It’s been hours.”

“How are you even going to find him?”

“I thought I heard something earlier,” he answers, “a shout.”

Aang sinks further into the sand.  “That was me.  I was angry.”

Katara frowns and thinks back to the large cloud from earlier.  “That sand was you?”

Aang doesn’t answer but it’s confirmation enough.  Then Leo’s been following nothing, a phantom of what he thought was his brother.  Despair tugs at her as the sense of being utterly lost grows, and she struggles to fight it. 

“No,” Leo says, “it was before that.”  He drops his head with a sigh and pulls out a sword.  “I’ll send you guys back.  I’ll find Raph out here.”

She stares at him, stares at the sword loosely held in his hand, and knows instinctively that this is it.  If they leave, if they separate here, they might never see the spirit again.  A sudden anger rolls up her spine and she straightens under it.  “All right!” she says.  “We’re all getting out of here together.  If Leo heard something then we’ll follow him.”  Katara turns and grabs the airbender by the arm.  “Aang, get up.  Everyone get up and link hands,” she glares at the spirit, “we’re not out of this just yet.”

Katara doesn’t care if she has to drag every single one of them across the desert.  Leo is not leaving them behind, and they aren’t giving up until the bitter end.  Leo looks at her for a long time before his lip twitches.  He spins the weapon, sheathing it in a smooth motion before walking.  She tugs hard at Aangs wrist and marches after the spirit.

The sun seems to take forever to lower, but Katara is grateful for its steady disappearance.  The air has finally started to cool and breathing gets easier with each sunray that vanishes.  Leo keeps the brutal pace, and Katara doesn’t dare complain.  He’s gotten shorter, tenser, with each building minute that transforms into an hour.  He’s way ahead of them at this point, but at least he’s making sure to stay visible.

Katara sways a bit on her feet and has to stop at the bottom of a dune.  Katara pulls in a heavy breath and licks her cracked lips, but it does nothing but bring attention to the dryness of her mouth.  Sokka falls to the ground beside her, “why did the green man stop?”

Katara rolls her eyes but follows his gaze.  Leo stands unmoving at the top of the dune with his back towards them.  A small hope builds in her chest, “Maybe he found something.”  She moves, pulling Aang and Toph with her up the small incline.  Her chest heaves by the time she reaches the top.  “What is it?” she pants, “did you…?”

The words die on her tongue.  She stares down at the devastated group of sandbenders.  Katara takes in their battered bodies and splintered ships.  It's a small group, no more than ten, but the unconscious men don't move.  Or at least she hopes they're unconscious.  She doesn’t want to consider the alternative.

Aang pushes past her, his eyes wide, “APPA!!”  He stumbles down the hill, his hand digging for the whistle hanging around his neck.  “APPA!!”  Katara grabs Toph and slides down the small hill toward the carnage.  “APPA!!”  Aang shouts.  He blows uselessly into the silent whistle, but there’s nothing.

“Aang.”

“He has to be close, Katara!” Aang snaps.  “He must have escaped.  We have to find him!”

“I know, Aang,” she says.  Katara looks at the smooth ground.  “but there are no prints-.”

“Then we keep walking!” he says.  “He has to be nearby.”

"Ok," she says.  Katara kneels beside the closest man.  “Let me look over them fir-.”

“Leave them!” Aang shouts.  “We need to find Appa!”

“I’m with twinkle toes on this one,” Toph says.  “We need to look after ourselves.”

She pulls in a breath, “Aang.  I can’t-.”

Aang doesn’t wait for her to finish.  He turns, walking past the injured sandbenders without a single look back.  She looks at the broken and unconscious men with a growing pit of hopelessness.  She can’t leave them, but they don’t have enough water to drink, let alone heal.  Katara can’t waste what they have on these men.  One lets out a pathetic groan and her heart crumbles even further.  Sokka gives her a hopeless look and follows after Toph and Aang.

There’s a sharp crack and a strangled cry echoes through the empty air.  Katara whips around and her heart stops at the sight of Leo over one of the benders.  “Did you…?”  She can’t say it.

His eyes cut to her.  “No,” he says.  He moves to the next and flips the man on his back.  “Set the bones and flip them over.”

“But,” she says, “I don’t have enough water-.”

Leo rolls his eyes and places firm hands on a broken humerus.  His fingertips feel the length before he tugs sharply.  Katara flinches at the soft crack.  The spirit tugs a water sack from the unconscious man's belt and moves to the next.   “Set the bone,” he repeats, “you don’t need water for that.”

“But-.”

“Look,” he sighs, “I thought you wanted to help?”

“I do!” she frowns, “but we don’t have anything to stabilize the bones with!”

“Leaving the breaks as they are for who knows how long won’t do them any good either.”  Another crack floats through the air.  “At least this way their bodies will have something to heal.  So I’ll ask you again,” he looks at her with a flat and unforgiving stare.  “I thought you wanted to help?”

Her mouth opens but Leo doesn’t wait for an answer, just flips the next one over and checks the wounds.  Katara stares at the broken bodies around her and sets her shoulders.  She’s a healer, she can do this.  Katara falls next to a young sandbender with a badly broken leg.  She touches the wound as lightly as possible and releases a breath when her fingers touch unbroken skin.  The bone didn't breach, that's something at least.  Katara’s hands hover over the leg in a familiar motion, but she hesitates.  She’s only set a broken leg once, and that was under the tutelage of master healers at the North Pole.  Her hands tremble and she pulls in a steady breath.  You can do this, she thinks.  She positions her hands firmly on each side of the leg and pulls.  The boy shouts, the pain too much for his unconscious form, but Katara pushes past it.  The bone falls into jagged place and she drops back with a gasp.  She did it.

“Hurry up,” Leo says.  “We’re going to lose them at this pace.”

Katara gets to her feet with a nod and moves to the next.  The two of them move quickly through the small group of broken benders.  It's not as bad as she anticipated, and she's grateful for the small miracle.  Katara pops the lasts one’s shoulder back into place and pulls in a heavy breath.  It's draining work to set all those injuries, physically and mentally.

“Let’s go,” Leo says.  He attaches the stolen water sacks together and swings them over his shoulder.  “We need to catch up.”

“Are you really going to steal those?”

“I only took half,” Leo answers.  He starts walking and Katara has no choice but to follow.  “All our supplies were on Appa, and the only water we have is one we can’t drink.  They’ll be fine.”  He unclips one and holds it out to her.  “Here.”

“Oh,” she blinks, “I’m ok.”

“Take it,” he sighs, “you haven’t had more than a sip all day.”

“You haven’t had anything since the library,” she argues.  “You should drink first.”

Leo wraps a firm but gentle hand around her wrist and she stops.  He sets the water sack against her slack grip.  “Take the water, Katara.  You need it more than me right now.”  He steps away before she can say anything.  Katara looks at the container and swallows with a dry throat.  She pops it open and has to restrain herself from taking more than a few sips.

Leo sets a brisk pace as they catch up to the small forms of their friends.  Katara looks back at the shrinking wreckage with a small twinge of concern.  “What do you think happened back there?” She asks.  “Maybe a crash?”

His shoulders pull up in a hardline and he doesn’t answer.

In the end, they don’t find Appa or Raph before the sun falls deep below the horizon.  They collapse in the shade of a giant dune for the night and Katara takes another grateful sip from the flask.  Leo was right to take them.  It vastly improved the mood when they caught up with the rest, all except Aang.  His mood continued to fall the darker it got.  Aang doesn't say a word even as they set up something resembling a camp.  He shouted himself hoarse calling for Appa and resorted to the whistle when his voice finally gave out.  Part of her hoped they'd stumble on the bison after the crash, but she knew it was futile.  Appa would have circled back long before they found the broken benders if he had escaped.   

She feels sleep tug at her with the cooling air, but she can’t fall to it, not yet.  They can’t wander through the desert aimlessly anymore.  Sokka lets out an unintelligible shout at Momo and she rolls her eyes at her brother.  Typical, the one time they need his big brain and he goes and gets messed up on cactus juice.  She glares at him and pauses on the overflowing bag at his side.  An idea grows.  “Sokka, can I look at what you took from the library?” 

“What? No!” He shouts.  He bundles the bag in a tight grip and scoots away from her.  “How did you know about that!”  Sokka gasps and points an accusatory finger at the lemur.  “You sold me out!”  Momo chitters loudly and it almost looks like a real conversation.

Katara drops her head and counts to ten.  She gets up and snatches the bag from Sokka's grip. “I was with you remember?  Maybe there’s something in here that can help.”

“What does it matter?” Aang rasps.  He’s huddled as far away from them as possible.  “It’s not going to help us find Appa.”

Leo huffs behind her and she cuts in before he can make it worse.  “No, but there might be something that can help us find Ba Sing Se.”  She goes through the scrolls one by one and shakes on the fourth one.  “A star map,” she breathes.  She looks up and her eyes grow wet at the clear sky.  “We can use this to navigate our way to Ba Sing Se.  We’ll sleep during the day and travel by night…”

Rough snores hit her ears and her energy flags.  “Let’s get some rest,” she mutters, “we’ll start up again in a few hours.”

“You too,” Leo says and she jumps.  The spirit stares out into the darkness.  “It’s a good idea Katara.”

She swallows, her throat suddenly thick, and rubs her eyes.  “Thank you, Leo.”  She tucks the maps back into the bag and curls against it.  She’s exhausted, the weight of the afternoon finally catching up to her.  “What about you?” she yawns.  He turns, but her eyes close before she can hear his answer.

A sharp tug pulls Katara out of her rough sleep.  “Wha?” she yawns.  It takes a second for everything to come back to her.  The library, the eclipse, and the theft hit her like a block of ice.  She lifts her head and tries to focus on her surroundings.  “What’s wrong?”

Toph’s hand wraps around her wrist like iron, and it shakes the last bit of sleep from her eyes.  “Someone’s here.”

Katara’s on her feet with the next breath, and she’s not the only one.  Aang’s already standing with his staff raised high in the air, and Sokka holds his club in a firm grip.  She takes in his steady stance and clear eyes and breaths in relief.  Katara pops the lid of a pilfered water sack and positions a hand over the opening.  She looks around but there’s nothing on the empty landscape.

“There,” Sokka says.

Katara pivots and her heart drops at the sight.  There is a huge shape on the opposite dune.  The person stands with their back to the moon, casting dark motionless shadows over their features, but the silhouette is familiar.  Katara squints and drops a hand in shock.  “Raph?”  It’s Raph.  It has to be.  She’d recognize that spikey outline anywhere.  The spirit twitches at the name but doesn’t move from his position.  A low hiss fills the midnight air and the hair along her arm raises to sharp points.  Katara brings her hand back up. 

Something’s not right.  

Toph looks around.  “Did you say Raph?”

“Raph!” Sokka shouts, “you ok buddy?”  He steps forward, but a green arm blocks his path.  “Leo?  What’s-?”

“Stay back,” Leo commands, “and let me handle it.”  The spirit moves in front of them without a sound.  He doesn’t draw his swords.

“Handle what?” Katara asks.  Her eyes stay on the motionless spirit. 

“What’s wrong?” Toph demands.

“He’s been alone too long.”

Her brow furrows, Leo’s not making any sense.  Alone too long?  Aang surges forward, hope sparkling in his eyes.  Leo claps an iron grip around the boy's wrist before she can blink.  “I said stay back.”

“Why?” Aang cries, “he might know where Appa is!”

“Just,” Leo hisses, “let me talk to him first.”

The hiss shifts to a menacing growl and a shiver runs up her spine.  Something’s not right.  “What’s going on?” she demands, “What’s wrong with him!”

Leo pulls Aang back with a hard jerk and walks toward the still spirit.  He lifts his arms in a placating motion.  “Raph,” he says, “it’s me, Leo.” 

Her arms fall and Sokka's jaw drops in shock.  She watches Leo move slowly toward the spirit and she doesn't understand.  Katara takes a closer look.  Raph looks the same, but it's his eyes that catch her off guard.  

There’s no recognition in them.

“You know me,” Leo continues, “you gotta snap out of it buddy.”

“Someone tell me what’s going on!”  Toph shouts but her voice is shrill.  Scared.  “What’s wrong with Raph!”  The girl stomps, sending a small vibration down the dune, but it's enough.  Everything slows.  Katara watches as Raph sinks to a crouch against the sand.  He pushes off it, the force alone creating a plume of dust in his wake.  She loses track of the spirit in the span of a blink.  She steps back, and Raph appears before them in a rush of air.  Katara's breath stutters in her chest.  Everything screeches to a halt.  The terrified shout of her brother, the build of wind from Aang’s staff, and the slow drag of the feral spirit’s arm as he pulls back for a powerful blow.

Leo slams hard into Raph’s side just as Aang releases a powerful stream of air.  The world pauses, both Raph and Leo stuck in midair before the force of Aang’s swing sends them flying.  They spin through the night, a swirling ball of limbs and pleads before crashing into a far-off dune.

Katara tries to pull in a breath but she can’t.  Her eyes focused on the quick motions of the spirits as they pull themselves out of the small crater.  What was that?  He-he didn’t even look like himself.  Gone was the kind smile and solid exasperation.  He was all sharp teeth and wild form when he attacked, but again it was the eyes that captured her.  They were white with rage.  

“-Katara!” Sokka shouts and she jolts.  She looks up at Sokka with wide eyes.  When did she get on the ground?  “Are you ok?”

“I-I’m fine,” she says, “is everyone ok?”  Sokka and Aang nod but Toph is frantic.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on!”  Toph shouts.  “What’s happened?  What’s wrong with Raph?!”

A boom shakes the air and Katara winces.  “He’s gone crazy, that’s what!”  Sokka yells.  “He just…. attacked us out of nowhere!”  There’s another shout, a spark of crimson, and Leo skids across the desert in a wave of sand.  Raph’s form glitches electric red before releasing an animalistic roar.

Katara pushes to her feet as the two spirits clash in a shockwave of wind.  The spirits trade blow at a speed that’s almost impossible to follow.  “I don’t think he’s himself,” she says.  “It’s like he didn’t even recognize us.”

Raph chases after Leo in an almost animalistic fashion.  Moving on all four as he grabs for the smaller spirit.  Leo however, doesn’t throw a single punch.  He evades, ducking and twisting around Raph with unusual grace, but he never stops talking.  “Raph!” Leo pleads.  He drops under another wild swing.  “Please!  It’s me!  You have to snap out of it.”

Katara listens to Leo’s voice with a growing sense of familiarity, and Leo’s sliding under a devastating kick when it hits her.  Katara doesn’t know how she makes the final connection.  It could be the look on the smaller spirit's face or the openness of his arms.  It doesn’t matter, what matters is that she recognizes the desperation.  It’s like… “the Avatar state,” she breathes.  “This is the Avatar State!”

“What?”  Aang shouts.  “What are you talking about?”

“I think he’s…lost in his spiritual power,” Katara says.  He has to be, it's the only thing that makes sense.

Sokka opens his mouth but stops, his eyebrows pulling down in a firm line of contemplation.  Katara turns back to the warring spirits and sees it for it is.  The roar.  The broken sandbenders.  Even Leo's desperate search all afternoon.  “Leo’s trying to pull him out of it.”

“He can’t be alone,” Toph mumbles and her face goes grey.  The earthbender takes off without another word, sliding down the steep angle of the dune.

“Toph!” Katara shouts.  What is she doing?  She slides after her despite Sokka’s desperate grabs at her arms.  “Wait!”  She catches Toph by the wrist, but the girl yanks against her.  “Stop!”

“We have to help him!” Toph yells.  She kicks, pulling the sand out from under her, but it’s too much.  Katara stumbles into Toph with a yelp and then they’re both tumbling.  The sand scrapes unforgiving marks against her skin as she rolls down the hill.  Katara lands painfully at the bottom with Toph landing like a heavy weight against her back.  

Toph rolls off her and a growing growl makes her blood freeze.  She looks up into the charging face of the lost spirit.  Katara jumps to her feet and uncaps the water at her side in an instant.  She widens her stance as the fear pools low in her gut.  I don’t have enough water, she thinks.  She can’t stop this spirit with what she has, but she has to try.

Leo appears before her in a gust of wind.  He shifts, opens his stance, and blocks the heavy blow.  Katara winces at the impact, but Leo continues to move.  He pivots, spinning around the outstretched arm, and steps deep past Raph’s defenses.  Leo twists, his leg coming up in a smooth motion, and he sinks a heavy heel into the center of the spirit's stomach.  Raph skips against the sand from the force and crashes hard, a cloud of sand growing from the impact.  Leo's hands wrap around her like iron bands before the sand can settle.  “What are you guys doing?!  I told you I would handle it!”

Her words stick in her throat at the fury radiating from the spirit.  “I-.”

“I can help!” Toph interrupts.  “I want to help!”

“No, you can’t!”

“He’s like this because of me!” she shouts.  “I have to help him!”

“You CAN’T!!” Leo roars.  “He doesn’t know who you even are right now.  Do you know how much this would kill him if he found out he hurt you while he was like this?!”

Toph’s shoulders shake, “but-!”

Leo has a sword in his hand before she can blink.  “He’s my brother,” Leo says and the coldness stops her.  “Not yours,” he drags his blade through the air, and sparks of blue light the air, “and you’re making it worse.”   

The world slips from under her for the third time that night.  Everything goes electric blue for half a breath before she lands with a yelp at her brother’s feet.  “Katara!” Sokka shouts.  His rough hands hover before pulling her to her feet.  “Are you guys ok?”

“We’re ok,” she says and glances at Toph.  The girl doesn’t move from the ground.  “We have to let Leo handle it.”

The spirits circle each other in a practiced dance of offense and defense with Raph’s blows growing more intense with each hit Leo avoids.  It’s only when Raph’s chest starts to heave that the smaller spirit slows.  Leo puts some space between them with a quick jump and then does the unbelievable.  

He stands up.

Leo pulls completely out of his stance.  He stands stall, his form wide open, and smiles at the huffing spirit.

“What is he doing?” Sokka yells.

Raph faces Leo with a twitch, but he still looks the same.  Still feels the same.  Raph’s still all wild energy when he races for his brother.

“LEO!”

“It’s ok,” he calls out.  He drops his arms and opens them wide at the charging spirit.  “He’s not going to hurt me.”  Raph doesn’t slow and Leo doesn’t move.  Katara closes her eyes.  She can’t look.  “I love you big guy.”

Katara squeezes her eyes and flinches, she waits for the inevitable shouts and the sick crush of an impact, but there’s nothing.  She opens her eyes.  Leo stands there, calm as ever, with Raph’s massive fist inches away from his face.  The bigger spirit shakes, his eyes trembling before his face crumbles in confusion.

“L-Leo?” Raph asks.  “You’re out of the library?”

Library?  

Leo surges forward and wraps around the bigger spirit in a tight hug.  “Yeah, buddy,” he says.  “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Is it,” Toph whispers, “is it over?”

Raph blinks as if disorientated.  He looks around and his chest starts to heave at the darkness of the sky.  Raph’s eyes find her, they’re wide and bloodshot, and the pupils shake with recognition before he looks back at Leo.  His arms fall to his side as his knees hit the sand.   “Did I,” he swallows, “did I get weird again?”

“Yeah,” Katara answers.  She sets a hand on Toph’s shoulder.  “It’s over.”

Leo chuckles a bit and Katara sees his arms tighten around Raph’s neck.  “Super weird,” he mumbles, “but I got you.”

They don’t talk about it.  Leo won’t let them talk about it.  He glares at anyone who tries to open their mouth once Raph settles on the outskirts of their makeshift camp.  Sokka falls to the ground with a powerful scowl after Leo’s fourth “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”  Sokka shoots Raph a suspicious glare before rolling over, but Toph has no qualms about the spirit.  She dives right into Raph's arms once she’s close enough.  Raph looks lost before returning the smaller girl's hug.  She cries then, and muffled apologies float from the embrace.  Raph just smiles and pats the girl on the back.  Toph pulls away after some time and lays close to the bigger spirit.

Katara lies down across from the sniffling earthbender.  They have to talk about what happened.  They will talk about it, but not now.  They can’t focus on anything else other than getting out of this stupid desert.

“I’ll wake you guys up in a few hours,” Leo calls.  “Get some rest.”

“Sure,” Sokka snorts and Katara stretches to kick him.  He squawks, indignant before the group shushes him into submission.  She watches the spirits just beyond Toph’s dozing form.  They’re both still up and Katara gets the feeling that they won’t sleep for the rest of the night.  At least they’ll have each other, she thinks.

It’s the faint sounds of a conversation that pulls her out of sleep.  Katara blinks, she doesn’t remember closing her eyes.  She rolls toward the voices and swallows a shout.  Toph stares back at her with drooping leads, but her eyes are open.  The earthbender holds a finger to her lips as the deep baritone of the spirits washes over them.

“...Made the deal?”  Raph asks.

“No,” Leo sighs, “but at least we have a name.  That’ll give Donnie something to work with.”

“JiaMo,” Raph hums, “I don’t think I’ve heard Draxum mention that word.  Did the owl say anything else?”

"Only that there’s a cost on both ends,” Leo says.  “I took a bunch of scrolls though when the library started sinking.  I was going to ask the professor to translate some for me but,” Leo shrugs, “guess I’ll ask Soks.”

“Soks?” Raph snorts.

“It’s a great nickname,” Leo defends, “Mikey would totally be on my side.”

“Probably,” Raph says, “What took you guys so long anyway?”

“Sokka,” Leo says, “he found a weakness on the Fire Nation.  A huge one.  Firebenders lose their bending during a solar eclipse.  There was this giant machine that predicts what the sky will look like if you plug in certain dates.  He needed time to find the date for the next eclipse.”  Leo leans back, “It might just end the war if used right.”  

“That’s good at least,” Raph says.  The conversation falls into a quiet lull and Katara finds herself drifting back to sleep, but Leo’s voice pulls her awake.  

“You ok?”

“I don’t know,” Raph huffs.  “There were so many of them, and when they started bending,” he trails offs.  “It was like fighting the world itself.  The ground was moving constantly, tripping me up, stopping a punch, wrapping around my neck,” Raph stops.  “Then they parted it like freakin Moses.  I swear I could see the front door of that stupid library.  That’s how deep it was.”

“Hey,” Leo interrupts, “we don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.”   

“I know,” he sighs, “and I know we don’t really talk about-,” Raph pauses, “-the Tower, but when they dragged me into that hole and when it…collapsed, all that pressure.  I don’t know, it was like I was back in that bubble.”

The statement means nothing to her, and it probably never will.  Leo moves and sets a hand on Raph’s arm.  “Sorry I wasn’t there.”

“I am too,” Raph says, “they buried me alive, Leo,” Raph shifts.  “I don’t know, it was only a few minutes, hardly any time at all, but,” his voice breaks, “that’s going to stick with me, Leo,” he whispers, “for a long time.”  

Katara thinks back to General Fong and the all-encompassing pressure of the stone and shivers.  She remembers the unyielding tightness against her neck and the fear rises like it happened yesterday.  The threat of that heavy death still lives with her too.  She wants to get up and give Raph a hug because she gets it.  Out of everyone here, she understands what it’s like to be on the other side of the crushing element in that scary way, but she stays on the ground.  She doesn’t want to ruin this moment between them.   

“Then I heard Toph crying,” he says and the earthbender goes still.  “Or at least I think I did, I’m not sure.  You know she held that entire library up by herself?”

“I know,” Leo says.  “It’s cool I guess.”

“It’s more than cool, Leo,” Raph huffs.  “What’s your problem with her anyway?”

“I don’t have a problem with short stack,” Leo says.  “We’re bantering.”

Katara raises an eyebrow.  Toph's face morphs into one of incredible disbelief and Katara fights a smile.  Something tells her that Toph doesn't see it the same way.  Bantering's a stretch for the fiery energy between the two.

“Sure,” Raph laughs.  "Remind me to thank her.  She saved your life.”

Toph’s eyes flood but she doesn’t let the tears fall.  Katara smiles and slides a hand across the small space between them.  She pulls Toph’s small hand into her and squeezes.  She didn’t say thank you earlier, she doesn’t remember anyone saying it.  Maybe they should have.

“How is anyone supposed to sleep,” Sokka groans, “with you guys yabbering all night long!”

“Ignore him,” Leo says, “he’s coming down from cactus juice.”

“Cactus juice?”

“I am not!”  Sokka shouts, “there was nothing wrong with that water!”

Leo laughs and hops to his feet.  “Sure thing pal.  It’s time to get up anyway.  We’ll lose the stars soon.”

Katara pushes up with a tired sigh.  Leo’s right.  They have to get moving.  She pulls out the map and stares up at the sky.  It takes her a minute, the sky so different from the one back home, but she finds a matching constellation.  She pulls out the detailed map of the Earth Kingdom and checks the directions.  A small smile of disbelief blooms on her face.  “We’ve been going the right way,” she whispers.  The map trembles in her hands and she fights to calm herself down.  They’re going to be ok.  She looks up to everyone packed and ready and rolls the scroll up with a grin.  “Let’s get out of here.”

Later, when Toph trips over a sunken glider, Katara feels another wave of hope shake through her body.  They have a method of transportation now, and water to last them a few days.  Their odds of survival have increased drastically.  She climbs onto the glider and laughs when she finds the compass.  They’re going to get out of here.  Together.

They’re found by a tribe of sandbenders less than two hours later.

Suki

Suki tugs the hat off and kicks the too small boots off with a long sigh.  She hates working for Full Moon Bay.  The customs agents are hard, beaten down by years of suffering and difficult choices.  Refugees leave by the boatload every hour, but the dock remains full to the brim with displaced families.  It makes her sick.  It makes her furious.  Every day is a harsh reminder of the war and why she and her sisters are working.  They’re so close to getting into the city, just a few more jobs and they’ll have enough to buy themselves a ticket.  

You would think our name alone would get us in, she frowns.  The city's refusal to let them in still stings.  Kyoshi practically built this city!  Suki pulls in a breath and tugs off the rest of the heavy uniform.  It doesn’t matter.  Kyoshi Warriors don’t need special treatment, they never have.  She collapses heavily against the cot.  They’ve carved out a small home just outside the bay's entrance.  It’s nothing much, just hidden tents in the scant trees before the bay’s entrance, but it feels like home.  She’s pulling on something more comfortable when there’s a soft tap at her tent.

“The girls are here, Suki.”

A grin splits across her face and she hurries to get dressed.  She hasn’t seen the rest of her warriors since they split a few weeks ago.  Min Li and some of the more senior girls stayed behind to help with the new recruits, and relocate some refugees to nearby towns who didn’t want to go to Ba Sing Se.  It took them a little longer than she was comfortable with for them to catch up, but they’re here now.

Suki pushes the tent open and breathes easier at the sudden fullness of the camp.  She walks towards the group with open arms and collapses against Min Li and Yan.  She squeezes them hard, “I missed you guys.”

“We missed you too,” Min Li laughs.  The girl shifts and slings an arm around Suki’s neck.  Suki returns the gesture and throws her other arm across Yan’s slender shoulders.

“Come on,” She smiles, “let's go sit by the fire.  We should be starting on dinner soon.”

“Don’t worry about dinner,” Yan says, “the recruits are making it tonight.”

She raises an eyebrow and looks at the small group of unfamiliar girls.  They’re talking amongst themselves, sending nervous looks around the small camp.  “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yes,” Min Li says.  “It’ll give them some sort of normalcy around so many strangers.”

“I guess you’re right,” Suki concedes.  She drops down next to the campfire.  “How was the road?”

“Good,” Yan sighs.  “A few snags, but nothing major.  We were slow to start though.  They’re not used to traveling.”

“We’re not used to traveling,” Min Li snorts   “How’s everything going here?  We thought you’d be inside by now.”

“Not yet,” Suki scowls.  “They’re really making us work for it, but we’re almost there.  Just a few more guard duties and we’ll be in.”  

“But,” Yan frowns, “didn’t you tell them we’re Warriors from Kyoshi island?”

“It didn’t matter,” she sighs.  “I verified my identity and they still wouldn’t grant me an audience to see the king.”  Suki rolls her eyes, “he’s busy.”  That’s the only word anyone knows when it comes to the King.  Busy.  “Enough about that.  How are the recruits?”

Min Li throws an appraising look at the girls.  They vary in age, ranging from a stumbling twelve to a steady thirty.  The girls move around a small fire in various shades of Kyoshi greens, some even have full white painted across their faces.   “I have to admit,” Min Li says, “the recruits are doing better than I thought on the road.  Especially Noble.”

“I’ll say,” Yan nods, “they aren’t complaining as much about the chores.  Noble even broke down a rabbit fox yesterday, by herself.”

Suki glances at the small circle of new recruits, “really?”  Noble sits in the center, her hands moving swiftly over the makeshift kitchen.  Suki remembers the day they stumbled upon the girl wandering through the wilderness with a small group of refugees.  She stood out immediately, with her odd hair and skinny club stuck to her grip.  Her clothes were luxurious, even when covered in dirt, but it was her hands that truly gave her away.  There wasn’t a mark on them.  She had some callouses, sure, but they spoke of occasional use, not constant.  She was scarless down to her elbows. It’s the main reason for her nickname and why the group was reluctant to let her join when she asked.  She’s nothing if not tenacious, though.

“The training could be better,” Yan sighs.  “I’m nervous to put anything sharp in some of their hands.”

Suki laughs.  She remembers fumbling through stances when she first started.  She still has a scar from a fan that she didn’t catch properly.

“Alright!” Noble calls, “dinner is ready!”

She moves around the group, passing out bowls of rice and meat, but it looks different.  Suki takes her with a sense of caution.  The girl’s doing better than what anyone expected, but that doesn’t mean she can cook.  Suki pokes it before gathering a bit of the smothered rice.  She takes a tentative bite, then another, and another.  

It’s delicious.

The rest dig in with her and the soft sounds of chopsticks against stone ring through the air.  Suki puts her bowl down with a satisfied hum.  More people filter towards the meaty aroma as Noble continues to fill bowls.

“Wow,” Min Li says, “I didn’t know you could cook, Noble.”

The girl grins.  She fills the last bowl before serving herself.  Suki raises an eyebrow at the unusual selflessness.  Noble settles between two smaller recruits with a grunt.  “Yeah, I have a friend who’s really good at cooking.  I’d help him sometimes when he was working on new recipes,” her smile flags.  “Guess I picked up a few things.”

A young girl reaches out and sets a hand on Noble’s shoulders.  “You’ll find them,” she says.  They’re in Ba Sing Se.  I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah,” another girl pipes up.  “Everyone’s heading that way, and if they’re as tough as you, then I’m sure they’re fine!”

Noble smiles at them. “I know.  I just hope they know to look for me too.”

Suki sets the bowl down.  She forgets, sometimes, that these new girls did not grow up on the island with her.  That they have lost families and homes so recently.  She reaches over and squeezes the girl's hand.  “They’re right,” Suki says.  “We’ll help you find them, ugh,” she blinks and flush climbs up her neck.  “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

The girl laughs, “it’s ok, I don’t remember your name either.”  Suki huffs and a chuckle runs through the small circle.  “It’s April,” the girl grins, “April O’Neil.”

Chapter Text

April

Then

April falls back against the soft wooden mats and tries not to get irritated.  The guys are late to practice.  Again.  She can’t really blame them, that last little fiasco with Bishop was draining, but they could at least drop a message in the group chat.  She pulls out her phone and shoots off another passive-aggressive text, although this one is leaning more on the passive side.

“Do you think something happened?”

April glances at future boy.  He sits awkwardly in the corner and tugs at the tight fabric around his biceps. They’ll have to go shopping again.  Casey’s done nothing but grow in the months after the Kraang incident, both in height and mass, to the shock of the entire family.  It was Donnie who eventually pulled them aside and gave them a quick lesson on starvation and nutrition.  The boy is still small for his age and genetics according to Donnie, so they're all watchful when it comes to making sure Casey gets what he needs.  Leo more than anyone.  “Nothing happened,” she sighs, “they probably got distracted, or outright ditching.”

“Master-.”

“Leo,” she corrects.  They’re working on that too.

“Leo,” he repeats, “would never skip training.”  Casey pauses and looks around the room.  “Would he?”

She can’t help the laugh that escapes her.  “That’s hilarious Case,” she snorts, “but the guys would definitely skip practice.”  They don’t do it as often, too much has happened for it to be a consistent practice, but old habits are hard to break.

“We don’t need to wait for them!” Casey shouts and April jumps.  She forgot the girl was here if that was even possible.  For a trained Foot Ninja, the girl is nothing if not loud.   “Summon Lou Jitsu and let’s start training!”

Casey leans away from the girl’s shouting form and April smothers another laugh.  Future boy doesn’t know how to act around this young, excitable version of his mother.  He confided in them that she was always….energetic, but that was reserved for the battlefield.  Off it, she was stern and restrained.  She would slip into something like this younger version of herself with the family though.  An echo, Casey calls it, whenever she acts in a way that’s too familiar.

April watches the boy scoot away from Casey and frowns.  He’s still so awkward around her.  She gets it, she really does, but maybe it’s time they start working on that too.  She rolls the bat absently against her hand and checks her watch again.  What are they doing?  

There’s a small crash, and a faint shout from Splints before heavy stomps grow in volume outside the dojo.  She rolls over just as Draxum kicks the door open with a powerful scowl.  The yokai stalks through the room like a man on a mission.  He searches the entire space, he even has the audacity to lift Casey as if the turtles were hiding under him.

“They aren’t here,” she says.

Draxum takes a step and drops the kid on his mother.  He ignores the squawks of both Casey’s and turns a furious gaze her way.  “Where is Michelangelo?” Draxum demands, “he’s late for practice.”

Her lip quirks as the two Caseys try to untangle themselves.  He did that on purpose, she’s sure of it.  “Not here,” she deadpans, “did you check your place?”

“Of course I did,” he snorts.  “They weren’t there.”

April hums.  “Are you sure?”

Draxum’s mouth pulls into a deep scowl and his eyes narrow.  “Well, now I’m not!”

April pushes to her feet with a sigh.  “Don’t get your robe in a twist, Barry.”  She swings the bat and settles it loosely across her shoulders.  “I’ll go get them.”  She has a pretty good idea where they are.

“I’m coming too, just let me grab something,” Draxum scowls.  “They better not be in my study.”  

She gives a lazy salute and Draxum just rolls his eyes.  He gives them all one last glare before slamming the door behind him.  April turns immediately and heads for the back door.

“Aren’t you waiting for Draxum?”

“Nope,” she pops.  “See you later Case!” 

She knows exactly where they are.  She jumps with ease into the abandoned subway tunnel and follows the tracks to Draxum’s private residence.  They’ve lucked out with so many abandoned subway tunnels close together.  Draxum's been living down here ever since his lease expired, which means he brought all his mystic stuff with him.  The boys can’t help themselves when it comes to Draxums stuff.  Especially since Mikey stumbled on his super secret library hidden in a far-off subway car.  They’ve been caught sneaking into the place at least four times a week now.  Draxum should have sworn the box turtle to secrecy as soon as Mikey found it.  Amature.  

April kicks absently at a rock and lets the barrier wash over her without hesitation.  There’s not much resistance anymore since she’s over here so often, but it still leaves a mint-like tingle against her skin.  She hops onto the raised platform and steps into Draxum’s lair.  Soft browns and oranges transform the dark brick into something surprisingly homey.  He’s gotten really good at decor ever since Raph introduced him to HGTV.  

“Who goes there!”

She rolls her eyes.  “It’s me Muninn.  I’m just here for the guys.”

A small black head pops over the edge of the couch.  “Hi, April!  They’re in train cars.”

“Figures,” she mutters.  “Aren’t you guys supposed to keep them out of there?”

Another head pops into view.  “We did,” Huginn says, “but they must have snuck off during this human movie.”  April leans over the huge sectional and catches Stich scuffling across the screen.  “Personally, I think Stich gets a bad rap.”

“I don’t know, Huginn,” Muninn hums.  “His badness meter might be too high for reform.”

April huffs a small laugh and moves past the couch for the abandoned subway cars.  Draxum’s setup pretty much mimics the lair, except his trains are full of creepy science or mystic experiments.  Although there is an abandoned office in the back that he’s converted into a ‘guest’ room.  It’s huge, big enough to hold four turtles and the corners were already color-coded the last time she checked.  He complains loudly about their ‘tacky’ colors messing with the flow of the room, but he’s not fooling anyone.

April walks from one training to the next, skirting around ominous tanks and floating bits of mystic artifacts.  She’s making her way through the second to last train, pushing away growling vines with her bat when the rumbling of familiar voices hits her ears.

“-just want to look-.”

“- touch it, Leo-.”

“-don’t think we should be-.”

“-odd energy coming off-.”

April kicks the door open and they jump.  The last train stretches impossibly long and the benches have all been replaced with makeshift bookcases.  The guys are huddled around a looming case in Draxum’s more off-limits section near the back.  Four guilty looks turn her way before they sag in relief.  “It’s just April,” Leo breathes.

She raises an eyebrow, “just April?” 

“Sorry,” Raph says, “are we late for practice?”

“Yes,” she sighs, “and Barry’s looking for you Mikey.”

“Aww really,” Mikey complains, “I can’t take any more mystic training!  You know all he does is make me meditate!”

“We know,” Donnie says.  His hands move around the glass container but the air around it lights up in familiar mystic symbols and intricate circles.  “You complain about it all the time.  Why don’t you push for something harder?”

“I’ve tried,” Mikey groans, “he keeps going on and on about building a foundation!”  The box turtle wraps himself around Donnie.  “I don’t know how much foundation building I can take!”

Donnie scans the mystic circle before reaching out a single finger.  He twists one of the circles with a quick drag before moving to the next.  “We could steal a magic book while we’re in here? He’s got to have a beginner spell tome somewhere in here.”

“We’re not stealing anything,” Raph says.  “Besides, the basics are good Mikey.  It’s how you learn.”

“Says the guy who’s driving without a license,” Donnie mutters.  He moves to the last circle and gives it a final twist.  “There,” he says and the circle glows a bright green before crumbling.  “We’re in.” 

Leo drops an arm over the softshell's shoulder.  “How do you know Draxum’s mystic password?”

“Please,” Donnie scoffs, “I’ve had better password security as an eight-year-old.”  The glass drops away in a rectangular pattern of magic until a weathered scroll floats softly before them.  “Now,” Donnie continues, “since this was Leo’s idea, I propose that he touches it first.”

April shakes her head at the shouts of agreement and lets her eyes wander over the thick books lining the train car walls.  She’s never been in Barry's library without the yokai.  His collections tend to veer on the more…..questionable side of magic.  She moves the bat to sit under her arm and tugs at the spine of a soft pink book that catches her attention.  She lets her fingers graze the assortment of gold on the cover and the pale wing-like clasp.  “Sakura,” she mumbles.

“Whoa,” Raph gasps.   April glances over her shoulder and sets the book down.  The scroll has unfurled in a shimmering light of alternating colors.  Odd characters print down the empty paper with a sharp symbol pulsing at the bottom.

“Get your jaw off the floor, Raph,” Leo says.  “We’ve been swallowed by a literal book before, this is nothing.  I bet Mikey could do this!”

“Hey!”

“Fascinating,” Donnie says.  “Mikey, does this symbol mean anything to you?”

Mikey leans in close.  “Not really,” he hums.  “It doesn’t look like any spell I’ve been taught.  Not like I’ve been taught anything.”

“I don’t recognize it either,” Donnie says, “I’ve got to convince Draxum to teach me this magic spell stuff.”

“He wants to teach you this stuff,” Mikey says.  “He asks you guys all the time to train with me!”  The boys look away from Mikey and the excuses start to fall.

“I’m busy with leader stuff-.”

“-got used to my mystic bo-.”

“I just don’t want to do it.”

April snorts and checks the door, but there's still no sign of the yokai.  She leans against the bookcase and watches the scroll with vague interest.  Draxum won’t say anything about the sealed scroll, which has just amplified the interest.  Honestly, this was bound to happen sooner or later.  “Alright, guys.  You might want to wrap it up.  Draxum was right behind me.”  Or at least he was supposed to be.

“Wait!  I haven’t touched it yet!” Leo crawls over Donnie with a grunt and snatches the scroll from the air.  He squints, twisting the paper.  “What’s so good about this thing that we can’t touch it?”

“Well,” Donnie says, “Leo didn’t explode so that’s good.”

Leo rolls his eyes.  “Ha ha, very funny, but seriously.”

Mikey pinches the bottom corner and pulls it down for a closer look.  “Maybe a recipe?” he asks, “a yokai recipe!”

Raph leans over all three and pokes it but nothing happens.  “I agree with Le-whoa,” he blinks.  The scroll glows a soft green and April straightens up.   “Is it supposed to do that?”

Donnie flips his goggles, “we don’t know what it’s supposed to do.”  

“Maybe because we all touched it?” Mikey guesses.  “Maybe it’s a family heirloom!”

“I don’t think so,” Donnie says.  He pulls the paper out of Mikey’s loose hold and drags a finger over the glowing paper.  “If it was then it wouldn’t react to us.”  He scans the scroll and flips it over.  “It doesn’t seem to be doing anything.  It could be an incantation of sorts, but I don’t recognize these characters.”

“Alright,” April says.  She pushes off the wall and walks towards them.  “You’ve had your fun.  Let’s bounce before Draxum catches you guys messing with his stuff.”

“His stuff is our stuff,” Leo says, but Donnie lets go of the scroll.  Leo pushes the floating paper until it’s back in its original position.  “Alright Dee, seal the lock on this thing.”