What Comes What Stays

“Hey, Aang?”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna learn something simple?”

The boy pauses mid-step, which is slightly worrying given the constant pacing that has been happening since he woke up. Thankfully, it ends when he sits down in front of Sokka crosslegged.

“Sure. What is it?”

“More of the same, really. Figuring out what we know and what you know and what is different or the same or none of us know. Shyu said some stuff about Spirits that I thought was odd.”

“Oh?” Hurry, the kid’s getting restless again. Uh… What part is most interesting?

“Well, are Spirits bad?”

“They have their reasons for everything, so if they do bad stuff, they have reasons for that, too. Why?”

“Huh. Uh, well, we always thought of them as, y’know, people of a different world. That’s why they don’t look like us. I wouldn’t expect a group of people who live forever and in a world they can carve like soapstone instead of iron to then turn around and have the same rules as me.”

“But you pray to them?”

“They don’t die and have the ability to manipulate our world more easily than we can. As I said, it’s like soapstone versus iron. If everything I try to carve into the world is as difficult as cold-forging iron, then I’d ask any of the people who naturally have to use less effort to help. They don’t have to help, y’know, it’s just that we’re asking. That’s why you need to believe: you’re sending a message to the Spirits if you believe, or just thinking a bunch of random words to feel better if you don’t.”

“So you don’t revere the Moon?”

“Revere? Like, worship?”

“Yeah.” Aang is thinking hard. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Is this bone-and-sinew or is this teeth-and-bone bad?

“Not really. We’re glad that Tui is willing to help us, and that her partner is, too. They are the closest to our people, so it’s always good to be respectful and show our gratitude. I don’t think the idea of ‘worship’ is something we do. That’s more of people who want to show off their belief, or at least that’s what Gran-Gran always says.”

“Huh.” Now it’s Aang’s turn to be confused, though the thoughtful expression remains.

“Uh… oh! What about this: if you had to design paint for those sages, what would you pick?”

That takes both of his siblings by surprise, and Katara’s face suddenly lifts with joy. He tries to ignore it, mostly so he can pretend it’s not a big deal instead of her making it seem important. It’s new, yeah, but he’s meant to do this stuff. Right? It was one of the duties that Bahr told him about, at least.

“Is it usually animals?”

“Well, animals in our paint call upon the traits of those animals, so the tiger-seal of my warrior paint gives me strength, persistence, and helps with camouflage. I don’t know what animals are in the Fire Nation, but you might’ve gone there, right?”

“Oh, yeah! I had lots of friends there! Kuzon was one of the closest, and we used to go exploring. If I tell you about them, would that be better? I don’t exactly know what you’re looking for.”

He thinks about that for a moment. There’s some questions he needs to ask, then.

“What is a sage?”

“Well, those guys were the Fire Sages, but it’s just a bunch of guys who help with spiritual stuff, and I think there’s a group for all of the nations that were meant to help the Avatar across time. I remember the Air Sages travelled around constantly, moving between the four temples each year for each season.”

“Real quick, what’s a season?”

“Warm, hot, cool, cold, back to warm. Or, as I once heard from a farmer, it’s planting, waiting, harvesting, storing. Most people call them spring, summer, fall, winter.”

“So it’s the weather’s changes?”

“You know how the solstice means either the Sun or the Moon is out for the longest it will all year?”

“Not how we know them, but that makes some sense. Winter is more of the Moon and summer is more of the Sun?”

“Yeah, and that’s why one is hot and one is cold. The equinoxes are the middle points in spring and fall. You’d probably only have two seasons.”

“Well, we have the Polar Night and Midnight Sun, sure, but we also have the Week of Fading Light and the Week of Fading Dark. Those are the equinoxes, I think.” He pauses, shakes his head, and goes back to the sages.

“Okay, the Air Sages. They were mostly for the Avatar, but they would’ve been what to you?”

“Spiritual guides. They would’ve helped me learn how to connect to the Spirits better and access the knowledge of my previous lives.” Aang’s eyes darken. “It’s what all the sages are meant to be.”

Sokka thinks on that.

The implication of Air Sages and Fire Sages means Earth Sages and Water Sages. He remembers the Yak Dream and the temple the creature told him of. So far, he’s encountered what Aang has told to be the Fire Temple and the Southern Air Temple. Combined with the other Air Temples, that’s five they know of.

The Southern Water Temple? Is that what it was?

And if the Yak showed him, and Yaks are so spiritual already, then surely their paint was that of the yak.

“Did these Air Sages travel on big ol’ guys like Appa?”

“Yeah, most of us did. We have strong bonds with the species, so kids would be chosen by sky bison pretty early on.”

“Then the Air Sages would have that as their animal. If we’d had Water Sages, I think they’d have yaks, because we don’t kill them for that reason. Bad luck to hunt them, y’know? And those are both creatures that are respected for helping with survival. You lot have sky bison to help with travel when you live high up, and we used to have yaks for their wool and their milk. What animals would be common but still treated as wild?”

“Well, I know there’s a lot of ostrich-horses in the Earth Kingdom. They’re everywhere, and usually help with pulling carts or carrying people. That said, I know that Bumi once got in a fight with one for insulting its wings, so I think they’d be as wild as anything helpful gets for the Earth Kingdom.”

“That makes sense. I’d have to see one before I think anything more, but it seems a reasonable start. What about Fire?”

“Uh, dragon-moose?”

“Dragon-moose?” As if that isn’t a very worrying combination.

“They’re just moose with some whiskers and weird ears, but they pull lots of stuff in the Fire Nation and they were always said to be very stubborn. That counts, right?”

“Oh, definitely. It’s like Katara: she might be very helpful, but she’s as untamed as they come.”

“Aw, flatterer,” is her response, to which he sticks out his tongue. He’s not complimenting her for no reason, he’s making a comparison!

“Again, I’d have to see it, but I think that’d work good. Yeesh, didn’t realize the world is so freaking big.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

They sit quietly for a moment longer. It’s more peace than they’ve had in a while.

And then Aang’s knee starts bouncing.

“Okay, tell us what’s wrong. You talked with Roku and he said what?”

The airbender launches to his feet and starts pacing again. Whoops.

“Well, there’s a comet that is coming at the end of the summer and if I don’t master the elements by then, the Fire Lord will use it to end the war and change the balance so much I won’t be able to fix it! How am I supposed to learn the elements before the comet comes? I only know airbending!”

“And how long did that take you?” Katara asks. She’s thinking, and her glance towards Sokka says that he’ll be helping her if they don’t find a firebender before whoever their earthbender is finishes teaching. Absolutely not. She can be a teacher, but he refuses. He’s horrible at teaching that stuff!

“Well, I’m a hundred and twelve years old, aren’t I?”

Sokka trips the boy, just to end the very aggravating pacing. He gets dual glares, but that’s not the point. The kid wants a path forward? Sokka has a plan.

“Oh, yeah, and it took that long to learn airbending, did it? Or did you master airbending before ever learning you’re the Avatar and then spent a century trapped and unable to do anything?”

The boy’s mouth opens angrily… and closes with the same expression. Good. He needs to think more.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Katara was about to say that if you want a headstart before we get to the North, she can teach you as much as she can, and then you’ll at least have some of that innate bending coming out. It’s also easier for you than literally anyone else. And did those Avatars have the motivation to learn as fast? Probably not, considering this is the first century-long war I’ve ever heard of.”

“Katara can teach me? Would you do that?” Good brother. Always clarify with the person offered. He smiles at the airbender’s back, which his sister catches but doesn’t comment on because she’s too busy answering.

“Of course! I don’t know the most, but I’ve learned some moves. And if you remember anything more, you could teach me?”

“Yeah, of course! I don’t know if the memories will help all that much, since I can’t access them, but I’ll definitely share anything I can!”

So eager. Sokka gags to remind them he’s present, and gets kicked lightly by Aang for it. That gets a proper laugh. Good on the kid. Learning fast and learning well, and not just what has been said.

“Well, let’s find some water to practice with!”

~

They find a river and a waterfall. Apparently, waterfalls are dangerous when at the very top or very bottom, but not from a short way back. Odd, but not something particularly worrying. Honestly, less worrying than things like riptides and maelstroms and things that can kill easily if you look at them wrong.

Whatever. The kids will practice and he’ll make sure that Appa can land and take-off properly. Someone has to do it, and Aang has to know he’ll be getting questions later about the habits of caring for a sky bison.

The two start with the basic katas that both Sokka and Katara could perform in their sleep. Aang mastered it with air, and it doesn’t seem that hard for him to adapt it to the water.

In fact, it only takes a few minutes for them to be done. Katara starts on different moves and how she came up with them, and Aang learns those in a few minutes, too.

And the experiments.

And then the meadow starts getting quiet.

“Hey, Sokka? Could yo- STOP EATING THOSE!”

He glances up at the first words and jolts at the second. Momo has some, too, so why is the lemur not being scolded? Bugs are perfectly good food.

“Sokka, listen to him. You don’t know which ones those are.”

“Fine! Aang, what were you going to say?”

“Could you come over here?”

He grumbles more and hops over, leaving a similarly grumbling Appa behind. The two move aside for him on the shore, and that’s when he notices why his brother might be calling for him.

Katara looks sad. Not grief, not hurt, but the quiet one. The one that always reared up in attack when she failed, when the water fell and the ice unfroze against her will. She failed?

“What’s up?”

“Uh, I learned a lot, but Katara might need a break.”

Oh.

“Aang, look at Appa’s feet and finish if needed, swim if it’s done. Sis, c’mere.”

They listen, thankfully, and Katara pulls aside with him. Her face is trying to lift and failing because it’s empty. He knows that look well.

He waits for them to be fully away. She won’t answer him if people hear.

“You’re strong, Katara.”

“I know, I know.”

“Do you? He’s the Avatar. He has generations worth of bending.”

“I know! It’s-”

“Hey, hey.” He grabs her elbows, trying to calm the waves that are rising in her gut. She talked about them more often when they were younger, and if she never said they went away…

He sighs. There’s not much to say that can help. There might be something they can do instead.

“Okay. We’re gonna make some new stuff. New katas, and we can teach what we saw and learn from it and all of that. You’re strong, and you know that, and this is just that old feeling. The waves can’t cover the iceberg for long.”

She looks at him with widened eyes. He forgets, sometimes, that she used to be much smaller. She grew up when he wasn’t looking, didn’t she?

“Okay. Let’s learn.”

~

A few hours later, making camp, Sokka is sat down by his sister near their fire. She moves away to Appa, which is normal, and starts rummaging and talking to Aang quietly, which is also normal.

What’s not normal is her pulling out something he’s only seen in their stores.

A band looser than his ivory, with shell-eggs strung between shells. A needle thinner than any used for sewing, thread to match, and a small container he recognizes. Ivory pieces. Something unknown wrapped around her wrist.

“What’s this?”

She sits down, settling the items beside her. Aang sits on her other side, Momo settled on his shoulder with a handful of bugs. The boy has his own handful of something, hidden from view.

“It was your birthday, and so these are your gifts.”

“Gifts? We’re tryin-”

“Yes, yes, trying not to die, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get your gifts. Gran-Gran sent them with me to make sure you didn’t try to wiggle out of it.”

He huffs at that. He does not ‘wiggle out’ of gifts. He merely thinks the same resources could be used elsewhere to benefit more than one person.

“Fine. What did you get me?”

The first is what he expected: segmented ivory, meant to be added to his neck to keep it breathing-worthy. His sister takes a moment to add the two pieces, smiling as she hands it back.

The second is what he didn’t recognize. She pulls it off her wrist to hand to him, and it reveals itself. Ties for his hair, stronger than his current ones. Meant for longer hair, then, and obviously funny now that Appa snapped one of the old ones with that licking incident. He takes that to put away, because he won’t need them for a while yet.

The third is the band.

“Really?”

“It’s a necklace you’re worthy of, so says the Elders. Gran-Gran measured your stuff before she made it so it’ll hide well under your shirt. C’mon, put it on.”

He does, but only to placate her. She won’t leave him alone until he does.

“Okay, what’s with the needle, then?”

“You’ve earned the Mark of Will, haven’t you?”

Oh. He has, hasn’t he?

“What’s that?”

“It means Sokka chose the harder of two duties when none would fault him for choosing the simpler. He didn’t stay with the tribe, but instead went with us, and that was really hard for him.”

“But will he heal fast enough? We have to travel and my tattoos took a long time to heal.”

“Well, it’s a small one, and it’s pretty easy to take care of them. You had big ones, yeah?” Aang nods, as if it isn’t obvious looking at him. “Well, that stuff takes more out of you, so you have to be more careful taking care of it. The Mark of Will is just a few crescents. Shouldn’t be bigger than my palm, if I do my job right.”

And she does her job perfectly.

The Mark of Will is always placed upon the heart, two crescents crossed and curving themselves away from each other. Two paths that diverge and an equal decision from afar, different upon closer look, for the two paths never fully cross. Only half is done, the tops of the crescents, because travel demands more and the process must be done to avoid infection.

Still, having even half feels odd in a good way.

Beyond Aang’s extremely fascinated leaning to watch without getting in the way, the entire process is done quickly. Katara cleans her needle and thread, packs away the ink, and instructs their airbender to help with the initial care.

“Okay, so… I never actually helped with the whole care process. I just know how I had it all done.”

“I have to meditate to help my body accept the marking, and all you have to do is dab off anything that leaks out. As long as you make sure everything’s clean, we’re fine.”

“Okay. Just keep it clean?”

“And be gentle, I guess. If you put too much pressure, it starts leaking the ink, which isn’t the best but isn’t the worst thing. I’d be more worried if a stream of blood started coming out. Which won’t happen,” he assures the boy, since fear starts rearing up at the last bit.

The kid does well, if being very cautious. Katara doesn’t take over when she returns, instead starting on making food for them after confirming Aang’s competence.

With her confirmation, Sokka settles properly into his meditation. He has a lot to not think about.

He opens his eyes some time later to eat. There’s a small bundle near his leg, and another item right next to it. Curious, he investigates what his siblings have left him.

A small flower he recognizes, carved into soft wood, and a perfectly round stone of the darkest red he’s ever seen. A small band of beads like that of Gyatso’s necklace but meant for a wrist.

And a small pile of nuts.

“Oh, Momo gave you the nuts. I think he thought that he had to leave something because I was doing it. That flower is called a lotus, and they’re supposed to be spiritually connected, and then the beads are prayer beads.”

“Prayer beads?”

“Yeah. We use them for keeping track of our mantras, but I just thought you might like them while you meditate.”

“What’s a mantra?”

“It’s words and phrases that help with focus during meditation or prayer.”

“And the rock?”

“I thought you’d like it.”

A rock because he’d like it, a flower he’s been carving for days and the name of it, and beads to help him meditate. And a pile of nuts from the lemur that the kid brings everywhere just because it makes things more interesting.

Spirits, this kid will be the death of him.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Without waiting, he puts the band around his wrist, slips the flower and rock into his pocket, and starts in on the nuts. He has no idea which ones they are, but who fucking cares? Momo gave him a gift for his birthday and it has the same feeling as getting a coat with a place for Boomerang.

“You’re very welcome, Sokka,” the boy answers, eyes averted.

Dinner is very quiet that night. None of them mind.

~

There’s a village nearby to stop in. Sokka decides that will do, because they always need more supplies and if that need is covered, the worries are far less. Aang is excited but also quiet, which means he wants to get something for Katara, most likely.

Kid better be careful, or Katara actually will be married to the Avatar soon enough.

The merchants are different, which Sokka thinks has something to do with the location. Lots of ships and lots of new people, easy to do things that the Fire Nation or other fancy folk won’t appreciate, and easy enough to get the simple sort of business, too.

Despite the immense amount of warriors that seem suspicious, he actually feels rather confident. Aang reminded him that Bumi provided them with some money, and that was a decent amount to add to the bag. He’s come to like the idea of money more, with it being so light to carry and also able to be used everywhere.

First thing they need is rope. Without rope, there’s not much more they can attach to the saddle.

There’s a stall for rope a few steps away. Perfect.

“How much?”

“Ah, plenty! We sell lengths by the fathom for five copper,” the man enthuses, gesturing at the pieces in front of him. Each is wrapped in loops, ends knotted at the middle to hold everything that way. They look a fathom each and Sokka doesn’t think a port would be the place where people would risk their reputation. Word travels faster on ships.

He puts a silver down, taking three lengths from the table. The knots are easy enough to tie together. Katara doesn’t even wait to take it from him, hands expertly finishing the task.

“Aang wants to ask about a whistle.”

Given the kid can whistle like the Winds, that seems odd.

Then he moves to the table and sees the little thing shaped like a bison.

“Why?”

“It’s a bison whistle!”

He huffs, pulling Aang away gently and leaning in as they move towards more necessary stalls. All three of them know how to carve, and the kid wants to buy a freaking whistle? For a whole coin?

“We can carve one ourselves later. Try to find the kindest merchant for long-lasting food. That’s what we can’t get on the road, alright?”

Both of his siblings move together, chatting with each merchant as they go. That’s good. Sokka hates talking to new people. He doesn’t think starting a fight in a busy place like this will be a good idea.

They need rice, some fish, some of that pickled stuff. Vegetables, he thinks. That tofu stuff and a larger container of beans. If they have some to spare, he might get some jerky, but that’s a last priority. He can always hunt and he’s getting better at it. No need to weigh Appa down.

There’s plenty of good places, willing to give a little extra when he shows he respects them and the work they put into their items. Aang being overly respectful helps, too.

It seems a single sincere bow is worth at least three copper in this market.

It’s as Sokka finishes bundling up the last of their purchases that he notices his siblings walking away with an armed stranger.

The man doesn’t feel trustworthy. He feels like a freaking spy or something. What’s the word, criminal? That is probably more likely than a spy, though a port would be a good place for them. Told Kyoshi’s stupid governor that much.

They board an anchored ship, which feels wrong as is. A ship can leave quickly with a good crew.

He keeps his hands ready to strike fast. They’ll need that if something happens. No way his siblings can convince him against caution when they go and do things like this.

The place is full of odd things, which, of course, fascinates his siblings to no end. There’s another man with a green bird-lizard that looks out-of-place in a coastal town. Travellers, then, who might travel to the Fire Nation if Sokka’s right about the creature being heat-loving.

He’s right.

Katara finds a scroll about waterbending, and the North wouldn’t give up such a thing. The only ones who could actually get the thing from the North would be the Fire Nation, and though the attacks are reportedly far rarer than the ones on the South, they still happen. An attack is a distraction. Or, worse, a trade with this lot for something else.

Pirates.

“Should’ve told the trouble before you showed,” he comments, keeping his head tilted to a shelf and his gaze on the two men.

“You entered, didn’t ya? Th-”

“Oh, shut it. Entering means nothing and you ain’t gonna blame us for your lack of respect. I’d share our trouble if you’d done the same to start, but I think your mouths aren’t as shut as they should be.”

“You’d best shut your own if you know what’s good,” the first man interjects. Sokka turns fully to face that one. Where the other is clearly prepped and ready to get the boat going at any moment, this one isn’t. Bait, maybe, but still not someone he fears.

Nor someone he fears the consequences of facing.

“I know that I could beat your guy in a tuyuq-all’uni, so what’s good again?”

“Oh, really? Better be sure of a claim like that.”

“Leave it.” Katara moves in between them, herding her brother away. “He doesn’t even know what it is.” She might be right. Guy looks confused.

“I know, alright. It’s why I doubt a ki-”

Sokka realizes he made a mistake.

“C’mon, we’re leaving. No use dealing with folks like these.”

He leads them out of the ship, on edge the whole way. How could he be so silly? So foolish? How could he say that and think it’d just pass without incident?

They move through the market, Sokka trying to get them hidden by the crowds as soon as possible. There’s only so long that is won by moving first.

Pirates who travel and have gone to the North know enough about the tribes to know that waterbending is dangerous to know about, let alone have. They know about the paths, the place, the people. It isn’t a far thought that someone might’ve even challenged their leader to a tuyuq-all’uni already.

And if they know what it is, they know what he just said.

He isn’t exactly ready for that to leave the South just yet.

“Hey, you! Get back here!”

Sokka hears the voice of the bait-man and promptly takes off in a run. They aren’t risking a fight with an unknown number of warriors.

“Uh, why’re they following us? What did you guys say?”

“Not important! Keep running!”

They rush down various open paths, dodging people and stalls and carts. One cart is very familiar and Sokka pauses only long enough to throw a random coin at the merchant before continuing. He has no idea what a cabbage is, but this guy has dedicated his life to them. Twice is very bad luck.

A group of the pirates tries to cut them off, which would’ve worked if Sokka wasn’t ready for them.

West.

Aang throws wind the moment his eyes catch on the warriors, exactly the hope. The kid then opens his glider, whistles come, and uses his bending to jump them over the blocking men. Well, to fly over the men and off into the forest.

Which will only win them time.

~

Oh, he might actually throw his sister in the river. Or hug her so tightly she can’t breathe. Or something.

“Heck, you had me worried.”

“Why, what did you say?”

“Sokka basically said he could take them in a fight, but then realized he had us with him.” Close enough. At least, that’s Katara-enough to get Aang’s questions off this topic. He has no desire to explain right now.

“Yeah, yeah, well, you have some waterbending stuff. Go practice it while I add all our stuff to the saddle.”

He does just that for a full half-hour. After a full half-hour, he’s done all the obvious stuff, and is about to find more so he can ignore how relieved he was at the fact that his sister stole from a bunch of pirates. He doesn’t get a chance to find another distracting yet useful task.

“Sokka! Katara won’t let me win an argument!”

He sighs deeply. This kid needs to go back to not knowing anything about the siblings and how they work together. Especially not about how his sister is either a menace to Sokka or a menace to everyone but him.

Is this rude? Is this something he can call rude? He needs someone else to ask. Not like the animals can freaking answer him.

“What’s the argument?”

“Aang’s trying to give me the scroll!”

“I’m not learning from it! If she learns it, she can teach me, not some stupid paper!”

He walks over. They shouldn’t be shouting.

“Okay, so,” both definitely look upset-but-not at each other, “Aang says he’s not learning and Katara says that Aang is lying. What does Momo say?”

“Oh, please,” Katara huffs. “We all know the lemur will side with Aang.”

“True, but is the airbender a big liar? What is he like when he lies? Is this like that? Are you just worried you’ll hurt him by letting him hurt himself in a lie, or does he actually look like a liar to you?”

He gets shoved into Aang’s chest. He tosses the scroll at her as she walks away, which she catches and shoves under one arm. The other is balled into a tight fist, likely to prevent her from making a gesture she promised not to make.

“Study it well, Katara! We’re leaving soon!”

“Wow. How’d you-”

“Just because the path is easier doesn’t mean the path is worse. All it means is that it’s easier.”

Aang goes quiet, looks very intently at Sokka for a long moment, and brightens suddenly.

“Well, guess I’ll get to learn from the greatest teacher I’ve had for this!”

“...You just starte-”

“Yep, doesn’t matter, right?”

Sokka just sighs and walks away. Momo leaps over to him, clearly to get out of the way. A certain waterbender is bending rather violently, though it doesn’t seem to lack her usual control. Must’ve calmed down, then.

Precise in calm and intense in upset. Same as she’s always been.

“C’mon, Momo. Let’s see if we can organize things better. You’re good at that, right?”

The lemur chitters. Probably not.

~

She leaves the scroll with him. He gets why, of course. He should study what he can, she finished and is gonna practice…

Okay, sure, he gets it. Truly, he does.

He has no idea how to handle Aang’s reaction, though.

Because why would it be normal to read a waterbending scroll if you can’t use the information? That seems like how most think out here: if one has no current use for the stuff, then why learn it? Why have it?

Aang doesn’t question it, stare, or anything that the kid has done before when confused or surprised. Instead, the airbender starts chatting loudly to Momo about what a great day it is and how nice the weather is.

Pretending that he saw nothing or that nothing he saw was confusing or surprising.

Jerk.

“Aang, make sure you wash Momo. If Appa’s got bad feet, Momo probably has worse.”

“You’re so right! Momo, c’mere boy!”

“Uh, how about you do that when we’re flying or tomorrow morning? I have something to show you!”

She’s a jerk, too. He wanted to ask about caring for Appa’s health. Instead, she’s taken away his conversation and said it needs to wait until they start moving again.

Actually… No, she knows what she’s doing. Nevermind. He can wait. She won’t be able to get mad at him for talking the entire day with Aang when she decided they had to wait.

She’ll be regretting it, sure, but she said it, not him. He can’t be blamed for it!

He tunes back in as Katara and Aang start getting louder. They aren’t yelling nor upset, but they are still louder. Excited, then.

“What’s up?” He reminds them he’s there, and they drop their volume a little.

“Sokka, tell us if this make sense: knowing airbending katas helps learning waterbending ones, and vice versa.”

“Well, how similar are air and water?”

“Outside the froz-en… bits…” Aang trails off, and the two pause as they are hit with some realization.

And a second later, they’re off again.

“Which means that I need to learn earthbending!”

“That’s why it’s between them! That means that there’s connected points between all four elements, right?”

“We both have fluid parts, moving and keeping it moving and easy to move, but the reason I struggle is that I have to learn all of it and you only have to learn half! You’re learning the part that keeps you as steady as ice, which means if I learn all the airbending-”

“You’ll be even better! And you said some stuff you learned from fire, right? That means you’re better than most, because you know your opposite element way better! I was told earth will be the hardest for me because I’m air-”

Sokka tunes back out.

He already knows that, but who is he to ruin their learning? Instead, he can read the scroll, learn something new, let them teach each other to be wildly powerful benders that frighten everyone but the tribe. After all, being powerful is only frightening to those who worry about the character beneath the power. Sokka doesn’t need to worry about them. He has a new band of beads to prove that.

And this also will later give him an excuse to teach Aang firebender stances from the raids and learn airbending ones in return. Excitement guards against suspicion.

~

The night is an odd thing.

She would never have realized it without leaving. It’s obvious now, when the Sun and Moon switch so often. Back home, she didn’t waste the two weeks she had of that on sitting around. She used it to have fun, to celebrate, to call in all the good and prepare for the bad.

But here…

She wonders, staring up at the Moon, if this is why Sokka can’t sleep. She can feel power in this. The light upon her is… invigorating. Magical, almost. She doesn’t get tired as fast, doesn’t move as slow, doesn’t have the same limits as when the Moon rests.

They knew early, back then, that Sokka’s gift has to be from both. Without the Sun, he dies. Without the Moon, he dies. Does he always feel this? Is he always filling up, full of something different than mortality?

She shakes her head, sighing. No use asking questions right now. She can ask when she finds someone to answer.

“Where was it?” She’s never understood how Sokka can be so quiet. If she had a group, sure, she could avoid talking, but there’s no one to fill the quiet with footsteps or breathing or the faint noise of clothes.

He wasn’t always alone. Did he just get used to it, or was he always like this?

Noise…

She freezes, keeping her stance but not her mindless walking. Her search has led her away from the camp, and she forgot that just because she can’t see the danger does not mean it isn’t there.

This isn’t the ice. This is something that puts even Sokka on constant caution.

The Moon’s animals are quiet most nights. They’re not talking right now. There’s a different noise.

Someone holding their breath.

She throws water at the shadow of a tree. Someone grunts in pain, which is all she needs to rush for the sound of water.

She makes it only a few steps. Someone was smarter than the other.

“Gotcha!” She kicks the groin, stabs her elbow into the gut, and steps out of the grip in a turn. No one who exclaims to have her will keep her long. She’s better than that!

She runs, reaching for the water when her ears tell her she’s close. It comes rushing out, all the way to her hands, and she twists it around her body to ready the weapon.

Something hits her hands at the one moment they converge, the water drops an inch, and a knife wedges in the space to hold at her own gut. It’s angled up.

She doesn’t call their bluff fast enough, though she can see it the moment she sees the Fire Prince coming out of the shadows as the pirates steal her hands from her. She’s alone and they want her group. Time to test the resolve, she supposes.

She waits for them to steady their footing, binding her to a tree - what is with the tying to trees and pillars and things? - and stepping back after. Giving space, it seems, for the Fire Prince to walk forward.

What would Sokka do with this? She knows she has to get free, but what would he say? Something, surely, so they focus on her voice and not her hands.

“Where’s your pocket?”

…fucking what? Where’s her pocket?

“What?”

“Your pockets. This is yours, I believe?”

There’s a question, not that she cares.

That’s her necklace.

The Spirits listened to their prayers. They always have, or at least always wanted to, which is why she takes her cues from Sokka in what to ask. He knows how to give them space to use the rules that they don’t know Spirits have. She would’ve prayed to have her necklace returned as quickly as possible. Instead, they prayed the Spirits would find the necklace and get it back to her via the safest path.

And here, standing right in front of her, the Fire Prince. In his hand is the necklace of her line, the one her grandmother passed to her mother and her mother to her. Proof of bond to those passed, to be passed down again and again and again.

In the hands of someone who is her enemy by a hundred years of people, only that he earned Sokka’s respect in a single day and seems so… predictable.

The teen looks uneasy, and yet instead of pulling away, he moves to tie the silk around her waterskin. When she has her hands, she’ll have her necklace. As she could assume, the… the kid just wants Aang. Doesn’t even care about Aang as much as the Avatar.

“Huh. The Spirits must like you.” Who wouldn’t like someone so good and so easy to manipulate? All they need is a reason it’s good and a nudge to get the kid’s path to line up. Easy patterns mean easy predicting means easy prey. They don’t teach the Fire Nation that, it seems.

“Uh, okay.” The kid clears his throat. “Where’s the Avatar?”

“Aren’t these guys pirates?”

“They don’t want to deal with the Avatar.” Why not? Pirates are the best at hiding things, right? That’s the stories: never trust a pirate’s word, because it could mean anything but what you can think of. “Where is he?”

What does she say? Something to delay them? Something to distract? She needs to be free…

Could they actually take the others? Appa and Momo are animals, waking more easily. Aang is an airbender when none know airbending, Sokka is a nuisance in his constant inability to rest for more than a few seconds.

The Moon is setting. That means her brother will be waking soon. With him, the others rise.

“Head up that way, just keep walking,” she points with her head. “Can’t miss them.”

And, just like she wants, half the pirates split off, nervous at how easy she gave up the others, and nervous at which path that means she’s looking at.

Jokes on them. She doesn’t look where she’s going. That’s her brother’s job.

~

When he finds her, she is dead.

“Ah, fuck! Watch his teeth!”

“Uh, Sokka, I think-”

He ignores both the pirate and the pacifist. Aang is currently in a net, but that net is held by Appa in addition to the pirate, so he just needs to get the freaking pirate to let go and Appa will be free to be a monster.

They’ve got blades, but all metal and wood. All the same. Sharp on the same sides, the same lengths, the same materials, the same thing over and over. Bought them together, maybe, which will be their downfall.

Slash and bite, twist under the arm, shoulder just under the ribs. Kick at the knee, stomp on the foot, push to the side, uproot the stance.

“Sokka! Hey!”

Oh, fuck.

There’s a lot of pirates, it seems, and they knew he was planning on fighting. Momo is gone, Aang is gone, Appa is starting the chase. The pirates he was fighting were three of five, and that’s all they needed to get their prey and leave.

He’d rather die.

He gives chase, whistling Appa off the trail and around. The bison needs to be ready to come in for escaping, because they need to get out of the area. The trees will get in the way, anyways.

They make it to another open space, near another part of the river, and he sees his sister has already gotten free from whatever was holding her. He’ll laugh later. His sister is as much a warrior as he, just not a hunter as much.

Several people have the marks to prove it, already limping or staggering aside.

His own weapons of choice push aside the limbs and the blades easily. Aang is freed in the havoc, Momo is screeching somewhere overhead, there is the chaos of a figh-t, the need to find where fur means foe and fur means friend-

Sokka pauses only at the shout that greets him with a new opponent. The man who had that bird-lizard, eyes sharp and blade different.

“Tuyuq-all’uni, didncha ask? Le’s have it, boy.”

He doesn’t answer aloud. That isn’t a requirement. All that is needed is a witness and a fight and no one but them. If some adult wants to try his will, they can learn why he chose to wield a club.

A slash at his side goes over his head, a jab at his throat misses by a span. He makes his own, pushing and pushing and pushing. All it takes is one hit. All it takes is knowing who wins in the end.

And he manages to bring down his club on the man’s arm.

There’s a crack of bone, a sharp breath, and the man’s blade loses its angle.

“Forfeit, kid. Ya win this one.” And the fight is over.

The pirates pull away enough he knows they spread word and will follow the outcome. Turns out they do know what it means. He ignores that, because he has to join his siblings on the stolen ship. They need to leave.

They need to get away from being known.

~

“So… How many questions do I get today?”

“Many as you want, long as you tell me about caring for Appa after.”

Katara snorts at him, focus on steering the bison. He snorts back at her, and the bison snorts to make it three.

“Okay! Well, we tried to steal the Fire Prince. Why?”

“Katara?”

“Hm?”

“What, exactly, did I miss?”

She lifts her waterskin. It had had her necklace on it when they were in the saddle. He hadn’t questioned it.

“Fire Prince gave me my necklace. You know what most would’ve done with it, but he, for some reason, just gave it back. Did that first, too.”

He adds to her words for Aang’s sake.

“Meaning he might’ve used it, but somehow realized the significance and didn’t want to risk using something too important as leverage, and he wanted to give it back instead of risking holding onto it for longer. Makes some sense.” Then he remembers Aang’s question and the preamble. “Oh, and no stealing the Fire Prince. We’re not equipped to deal with that.”

She pouts at him and he ignores it. She can pout all she wants. He won’t change his mind so easily.

“Alright, you had more?” He turns the conversation back to Aang. The kid is frowning, but perks up to ask the other questions.

“Oh, yeah, I remembered you guys keep talking about an iceberg. How did you find me? I know I was asleep for a hundred years, but I still don’t know how I woke up.”

Oh. They didn’t tell him, did they? Sokka gestures for Katara to answer that one, since she was the closest to it all.

Some bits, she forces him to answer with pieces of what he saw, but only when she was facing him. Because she was yelling at him, of course. She didn’t exactly see the giant crack running down the side of an iceberg that lengthened every time she gestured at him in anger.

It actually takes a while, since Aang has more and more questions. He has questions about why they were out fishing, why that’s how Katara tagged along when she can hunt, what happened to their boat. Everything has to be explained as they go or they’ll forget.

Even Katara forgets things.

At the end, when there’s no more questions and the story is done, Aang stares at Katara for a minute.

“Okay, last question.” The siblings both lean forward a bit, because they finished the questions?

Aang knows this, which is why his question makes Sokka start laughing too hard to speak.

“How do you think I’m strong when you broke open an iceberg on accident?”

Katara doesn’t answer louder than her brother’s laughter, so he never hears what she says. He doesn’t mind.

~

The cave and the paint and all of it passes fast, a blink, a beat. Tyro watches him direct the fire away, the gaze heavy on his back.

There’s an old man behind him. The old man is scared of him. He’s turned away, facing the shadows, the people he can’t see.

He needs to forget. They don’t matter. He doesn’t know why it wouldn’t matter.

He turns to the old man, extending his hand. The man is light, thin, and he pulls the stranger up. He does not know this man.

Two claws wrap around his throat, hooked and harsh and cold. They threaten death.

The breath that comes with them… the shake barely there… there is no way he would not know it.

Even a seasoned hunter can falter when the prey is a person.

The world around them is quiet. There is no Elder, no forest, no people-as-shadows or sky above or dirt below. There is only darkness and the ability to see with it.

“You’re sad.”

The creature tries to leave, and there’s no noise to it. He grabs those claws, and his hands feel the wrapping of leather-on-wood. It needs to face what has happened. There is no path past grief that lasts as long as the truth.

“Anger’s easier, isn’t it? Never burns through the ice.”

The creature screams.

The Moon screams.

Red as blood.

Sokka wakes, trying to calm his breathing. That was odd, but he’s had odder. He’s fine. It’s all fine. He can just-

His eyes catch on another’s.

Aang sits leaning against a tree. He says nothing, only staring.

That tells the other enough.

He waits until they’re in the air, because these people value the Avatar and that means they have to pretend and act like it’s not a big deal. He gets them loaded fast, ready for the danger ahead as much as they’re able to be, and they lift off. Appa rises faster than usual, clearly as upset as the siblings are.

Only when they have passed a few clouds does he turn the bison in the general direction of the Fire Nation and promptly join his sister in sitting across from Aang.

For a minute, they’re all just sitting there, staring at each other.

“Uh, so…” Aang breaks the silence, and the other two take it as a cue to start in on him.

“What were you thinking? We come all the way from the South Pole with you, protect you from the Fire Prince a few times, and then we think the Fire Nation is a different story?”

“She has a point. I was willing to die for you with the Fire Prince. I would fight the Fire Lord a hundred times for any of my tribe, and we made it clear that includes you.”

“Not to mention that we would have to visit the Fire Nation at some point, and this isn’t going the whole way in yet. This is going to somewhere you can get help instead of fighting the Fire Lord and his entire military to try and end a war older than our grandmother.”

“It really isn’t as specific as you’re thinking. Oh, you don’t want us to come with because it’s dangerous? Yeah, you fu- you care about us. We care about you. That’s how being tribe works. No one wants their tribe in danger. Try that again and you’re stuck in the saddle for a week.”

“Sokka.”

“I’d do it to you if you tried, but you know better, so you don’t. He knows better, and he better not try again.”

Aang is quiet as they talk, which shows he knew this was coming. Probably knew the moment they didn’t say anything about it on the ground.

“Well, there are nicer ways to say things.”

“Sounds a lot like trying to get me to be polite.”

“Oh, as if I’d try that! You know what I meant and you just don’t like that I’m right!”

“Uh, guys?”

They fall immediately silent. If Aang has something to say, he rarely presses it through the noise, and that means them needing to start being quiet. A difficult task when they’re arguing, but they can manage.

“I get it. And, if I’m honest, I prefer having you two with me for all this. Even when it’s dangerous, it’s a little easier with you coming along.”

“Aw.” Katara moves forward to hug the boy, dragging Sokka by the arm so he has to, too. He sighs, even though he actually really wants to be in the hug. It helps him know his family is fine, and helps him help them. No downside in his eyes.

They pull back in the end, and Aang immediately starts trying to distract them.

“So, anyways, the dragon that I met was Roku’s spirit guide. Did you know that Appa’s mine?”

“Yeah, thought as much.”

His sister punches his shoulder and he grunts. His brother stares before very lightly doing the same to his other shoulder. To be ‘nice’, he grunts to that, too.

“Next time, maybe say you know something when you observe it. At least about things like that. I didn’t even know Appa was my guide until I learned I was the Avatar.”

“Yeah, but knowing you’re the Avatar, it’s pretty easy to go ‘oh, he’s got a bison who never leaves his side and every Avatar has something like that’.”

“Move on, boys.”

“Fine, fine. How about Momo? You know about him, right?”

“Sokka, that isn-”

“What about Momo?”

“Appa is the one who knows your past and helps with that stuff, Momo is to help you learn new things, too. The whole thing with the animals for the Avatar is that they help with the side of things someone ‘beyond humanity’ will need help with,” Sokka gestures dramatically as he speaks, trying to show how silly he thinks that is. “Which just means that when people are being stupid, you have someone who doesn’t care what you do as long as you’re still you. Appa knows where you come from, reminds you of that, and then Momo helps you feel comfortable adapting to a new world and a new time. You think we found a lemur who happened to be completely at ease with humans and also gave the person who scared it a bunch of food is luck?”

Aang goes to sit on Appa’s head.

Well, that’s not good. Maybe. If it turns out that the silence is upset-silence and not thinking-silence.

He sometimes gets that wrong with Katara. He’s not near ready to tell with Aang. A wrong guess can make it way worse and a right guess does next to nothing. Might as well not guess at all.

~

The trip is long for the waiting. He always finds it odd that having to be patient makes time pretend it’s slower when it isn’t. Patience should give a reward, not make things worse.

He should write that down for when they get back home. Gran-Gran will know. She always knows about the things that are weird to him and him alone.

The water’s different this far out, too. Lighter in the way snow is, where you can’t see through it as clearly. Well, you can see a short distance, but then everything is out of sight beyond shadows that aren’t distinguishable from the earth beneath the water.

Less clouds, too…

He doesn’t realize he’s pacing the saddle until Katara’s hand pulls him down. He glances over to find her looking worried, and nods to try and reassure her. Then promptly moves to sit across from her, because they need to keep an eye out for danger and that means taking a side and some back each, with Aang on the front and the front alone. They already have to deal with not being able to hide their presence.

“How long did the trip seem?”

“We should get there at dusk, but plenty of time before sunset.”

“Not a lot of time to meet Roku. Think you can make it?”

“Yeah, as long as I can get in and make it to that room.” There’s a tone to those words that imply Sokka will make sure Aang makes it to the room. It’s annoying. Mostly because it’s right.

He huffs a breath through his nose. Aang knows too much already. How dare he.

~

They spot the issue at the same time.

“Aang, trouble catching up fast!”

“That’s an understatement.”

Appa’s speed is pretty fast, though definitely not the fastest. Would the fastest actually outfly the ship below?

“FIREBALL!”

Shit. He leans away from his sister’s shouting, instead nearly flattening so Aang can rush past them. Katara leaps the other way, taking over the steering so their airbender can focus.

“We have to get out of Zuko's range, before he shoots another hot stinker at us!” She’s right about the smell. If he wasn’t a hunter, he’d probably also hold his nose. As it is, he keeps his own focus on the directions he needs to provide.

“I’ve got the fire! Can you guys head north a little?”

“On it! Uh… one issue!”

Sokka turns.

A line of unmoving ships, different from the one that wasn’t meant to move as this one is clearly meant to wait. Anchored. Ready to move and ready to fight.

“Okay. We can handle that.”

“Can we?”

“Fly higher to get out of range of the fire!”

The contraptions being used seem to be using sling force for giant spoons. The system clearly relies on locking the spoons down, which is signalled by some people on the sides, and only then do they load what must be the ‘stones’ of the weapons. Firebending lights the material, the things turn to aim, and then they pull something and it releases the tension. The fire flings up, but it’s still affected like a stone: you can fling it pretty far, but it will always come down.

Katara takes him at his word, and Appa rises fast. The fire falls short mostly, but a few are able to get to the right height.

“Appa, higher! We’re fine!” The bison groans and keeps rising. Katara starts trying to split her focus to adjust her breathing. Good. She’s in the most precarious position right now.

Sokka watches as fire keeps going, the ships in front moving to converge and the one behind following nonstop. He tries to feel the fire, quick as the bursts are, because if any gets too close, he needs to put it out fast.

Sure enough, one singes the fur on the side. He gestures for Aang to hold the deflection, and moves as though suffocating the embers. Instead, he snuffs it out, trying to make sure none are on the underside. Underside is likely less resistant to fire.

Some of the fire from the lines of ships are almost hitting the Fire Prince’s. They’re risking their own, so maybe they know it’s Aang? He prays quickly to Agni that the ship doesn’t go down. Those soldiers did keep their word, so he at least knows they’re honest in their promises.

They have to get into the clouds more. There aren’t clouds out here, not like elsewhere. This stretch of sea is void of it. That isn’t something he can help with. Maybe he can try to make smoke? Would Boomerang return if he used it to mess up the spoon-things? Probably not. His sling can’t make it that far, either.

There’s a jerk, and he finds himself going up for a few seconds.

And then falling to the Ocean below them.

Well. That’s not good.

He spreads his limbs, trying to reduce how fast he can move through the air. If he survives the impact, he’ll probably be fine. Maybe. Ish.

And then he’s caught. That’s good. He really doesn’t know how bad impact is from so high, but the ones he remembers were shorter falls and still bad.

Aang gets rid of the last fireball, they make it over the lines, and Katara keeps them moving higher. He gestures for Aang to switch with her. She needs to adjust and Aang is fine.

“We made it!”

“Yeah,” he answers the boy, own breath coming a little too quick. “We made it into the Fire Nation. Now let’s not die on the way back, yeah? Great. Wonderful. I’m gonna check the supplies haven’t moved too much.”

Aang, thankfully, doesn’t question that and just gives him a smile and focuses on getting them to the right place.

“Well, settle in. I think this is gonna be a safe glide to the temple!”

~

It is a safe trip for certain. And also very long.

Sokka, for his part, has mostly mastered the flower he’s been practicing carving, and has finished several of his other time-passing projects. The yak on Katara’s sleeve isn’t amazing, so he finished making it a buffalo-yak, and the antler he’s been carving into a whistle for Aang is just needing to be strung on some line and it’ll be ready. Now, he’s just trying to observe and get what he can from it all.

Katara is trying to teach Aang tapsticks. Aang is not good at tapsticks. She doesn’t care, but she’s also clearly dozing off. They already told Aang why that’s not a good idea when they’re having to travel so high, and the kid’s doing good on it. He’s trying to make her talk instead of just talking for them both, and she’s trying to answer.

It’s a relief to them all when Appa starts descending on his own.

“There it is!”

“Aang?” The boy turns, and his expression isn’t as confused as Sokka expected. They must be getting familiar, or maybe he expects something else.

“What is it?”

“Be careful. If we meet anyone in there, it’s… It’s been a long time since they’ve had an Avatar to keep this place for, and it’s been a long war. The Fire Lord back then wanted you dead and the one now wants to control you. If I was doing that, I’d keep a tight hold on anyone who you might look for.”

“Okay. We can just sneak past everyone instead!”

Better than nothing.

The island is odd, mostly because it’s just rocks and heat and things that are strange because they’re probably just hot. The structure before them is tall, rising up and complex in the view, which means it’s meant to be impressive. Sokka is not impressed to spite whoever decided that was more important than keeping it safer from storms.

They’re on a freaking island! The water is right there.

The team disembarks, moving to give Appa space to rest. He’ll need to recover fast, since they have to leave as soon as possible with the Fire Nation knowing they passed by.

Momo’s coming, of course, and Sokka isn’t even surprised anymore. The little guy is getting decently good at following orders. Even fixed the mistake from Kyoshi Island, so probably smart enough to dodge any firebending that comes their way.

Especially on an island so quiet because the Stones mutter instead of talk. Animals always hear the Spirits better than humans, and this place probably puts every animal on edge.

“Ready?” The others nod to him, Katara shaking her eyes open more and Aang bouncing on his feet. He leads the way down the rocks, only letting them pass for their airbender to show the way to the entrance. An issue to use the way people are expected to enter, but there’s no low-set windows or extra doors. No use sneaking those ways, then, when the Sun is starting to set.

The room they enter is just as clearly meant to impress. Red and black and fire everywhere, polished yellow and flickering lights meant to make shadows that dance.

Five men wait in front of them, dressed in red and black more simple than the building. All are Elders, all wearing tall hats, and all looking so passive that there’s no doubt in Sokka’s mind what their intentions are.

He takes off, and the moment he moves is the moment his siblings do. Aang deflects the fire sent towards them and uses the same air to push his feet further each step. They rush down the halls-

Black halls and fire burning on the walls. He runs and runs-

Aang backtracks in leading them, and the reason becomes clear when one of the Elders follows shortly after the boy rushes back. Sokka immediately drops into a fighting stance, whistling go so the others get away. The walls are close together, so he has more of an advantage than most firebenders in this place.

“Wait! I mean no harm to the Avatar!”

“Elders lie all the time,” he mutters in response, using his club to force the man back.

And then stops because the Elder has done something he doesn’t know how to handle: bows.

Not just bowing like how people seem to do off the ice, but kneeling down and bending his head. Then the Elder lifts his head slightly, sees something behind Sokka, and goes the whole way down, pressing his hands down and his head nearly to the floor.

The teen turns, and his siblings are there, probably from another bad path. A confusing building within the walls, it seems.

“I am a friend. I know why the Avatar comes here.”

“Then tell us where you’re leading and do it, to pair.” As he speaks, he gestures for Katara to take his flank, because he can’t protect Aang and watch their backs at the same time, not if they have to rely on someone else.

But they kinda have to rely on someone else, don’t they? The Stones were quiet, and now those mutters are rising in chants about this Elder being different and the time has come for the fall of these ‘sages’.

The man rises carefully but not slowly, and uses his fire on the wall to open up a hidden door. They rush through, it closes behind, and they’re safe from four but stuck with one.

Katara pulls on his shoulder, getting him to lean his head to her mouth.

“Don’t show. Who knows what fire means to them.” He nods, gesturing for her to keep Aang and she behind. Sokka’ll be a buffer, and the Elder will have to go through him first to get to their airbender. Hopefully, that means following his sister’s advice. She’s right, after all.

Sages are dead, kill the liars.

Empty, rotten, destroyers.

End them, Child. This one is the key. End the liars.

He forces the grimace back, because the chant of ‘end the liars’ will not help him much. Yeah, he gets it, the Elders are mostly bad and there’s only one who isn’t, but he has more important matters than vengeance for Spirits who’re just mad at the disrespect shown to them.

The man introduces himself as Sage Shyu, and gives them some information as they walk. Most is rather useless to Sokka. It probably helps Aang’s mind, but he isn’t a pacifist half-Spirit airbender. He’s a warrior and all he gets is that there are even more Elders who aren’t acting right, these ones because they think of themselves as soldiers for the Fire Nation when they aren’t. And that this Shyu is a little too optimistic for his taste. He would hope that Aang would have less pressure, and at least Shyu isn’t putting any weight on Aang not being there for a hundred years.

Probably one of the best Elders they’ve met so far, and that includes the weird king guy.

“We'll follow these stairs to the sanctuary. Once you're inside, wait for the light to hit Avatar Roku's statue. Only then will you be able to speak with him.”

The man leads them up the stairs, only to rescind his hope because the door is shut. Apparently Aang already needs to learn firebending, which is the last one he’ll be learning so it’s not even a chance.

But without that, there just needs five streams of fire. He has a plan that wouldn’t work for continual streams, though they could try and trick either the mechanisms or the other sages.

“I got an idea and a second one.”

“What?”

“He means he has a plan that includes if it doesn’t work.”

Thank the Spirits for his sister knowing how to make things clear. He needs to focus right now.

Making bombs isn’t that hard, just slow if you’re safe and unsafe if you’re too fast. He’s faster than most of the people he was taught by, at least back then, because he doesn’t learn anything without putting full effort into it. He’s gotta make five bombs, maybe six, strong enough for immense fire-like effects.

The lamps have more than enough oil, so he just needs to use some of his extra pelts. Seal the oil in and add a fuse. Not a flash, so it shouldn’t need anything else, and the main issue is that it won’t be long. If this door is anything like the one that Aang opened  in the Southern Air Temple, it needs a stream of fire. So… well, better trying than not.

“Okay, Elder Shyu, can you reach those lamps? We need the oil.”

The Elder blinks at him in confusion, but moves without hesitating, which is a win. He grabs the spheres, and Sokka gets to work with his sister prepping the pelts with some strategic wrapping and minimal stitching. Fast is better than good, here, since they’re just trying to do it once and not to last.

He doesn’t have a fuse, though, and he didn’t plan on needing anything that small, so maybe his rope?

“Sokka, tell.”

“Anyone got something like really small rope?”

“I have twine!” Aang passes it over, and it’s perfect: dry and in enough supply. He grabs it and dips it into the first lamp, while Katara grabs the second to start filling.

“Do we need anything else or we just keeping it simple?”

“If it doesn’t work, it’ll still leave char and make some noise. Those idiots will rush right in, and Shyu will say he believes the Avatar made it inside. If they decide to ask more, just something like Aang going around a corner and then Shyu comes out into this hall and the kid’s gone and the door was closed when he didn’t remember it being. Plausible, especially if they’re all so rushed.”

“Got my three done.”

“Put them in, I can attach the fuse better if they’re in the holes.”

She does so, and he follows shortly after. The fuse is decent, now covered in oil for speed, and is easy enough to thread through spaces. He has to be careful to not tug too much, though. Attach the pieces together, make five one for one burst, and set it down so Shyu can aim low.

Katara ushers Aang behind a pillar, and so Sokka gestures at the fuse.

“Light it?” the Elder clarifies. He nods, because that’s kinda the point of a bomb? But there still isn’t hesitation as Shyu sends a blast at the fuse, hurrying to get cover just as fast. Sokka ducks behind, making sure the others are secure in the seconds before-

BOOM

Aang moves forward to tug on the doors. It didn’t work.

Well, shoot. Second idea, then.

“Momo, through.” Sokka gestures at the door, and the lemur obediently goes through the piping, ending up a clearly visible shadow on the other side. Perfect for tricking a bunch of jerks into doing the hard part.

“That’s the second plan?”

“The second is that they think you got through and open the door. A shadow helps, and they can believe that Shyu was actually tricked instead of thinking he’s being a traitor. So, we wait and we let them do the work.”

They wait.

And wait.

And wait?

Sokka frowns. Given the size of the building and the rush they all have, at least one of their enemies should’ve heard and come to investigate. So why aren’t any coming? There’s not even sounds of them!

“Shyu, where might they have gone? Would they alert the Fire Nation or try to secure our way off the island?”

“No. We’ve heard the Avatar is young, and the belief of the others is that is inexperience.”

“They thought he’d be easy, okay. That tracks, but that doesn’t tell us where they are right now. We should have at least one trying to get through.”

“Aang, this way!” Katara starts tugging on the airbender’s arm, around to the side furthest the obvious way in. “You can look out the window. If I thought that way, I’d probably assume the people fled.”

No, she wouldn’t, because no one flees when they’re weak back home. Animals do, but humans cannot. It exposes your back and those who can’t win are more likely to try and take you down with them.

So…

She wants him to bend.

He glances over, catching her gaze as it flicks his way, before approaching the door. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t acknowledge the Elder beside him, doesn’t do anything but breathe long and deep and filling.

And exhales slowly as he sends out streams of flame.

The red comes from both hands, managing two, but if Shyu manages two, that still leaves one missing. Shyu does manage two, with the same will he’s done everything else.

Which is a pleasant change to have and also very stressful.

No. He’s not going to fail. He can’t or his brother misses the only hope the kid has.

Carefully and quickly.

He spreads his stance a little more, and widens the fingers of his right hand. Thumb and forefinger and middle one, too. Then the stabilizer and the tail. Split the fire down both sides, separated…

He gets two thin streams from his right hand, and manages to aim them through the holes.

The door opens and Sokka hurries back.

“Aang, it’s open! I think Momo did something, but we don’t have time. Get in there!”

The boy doesn’t even question it, jumping down from the window and launching himself straight through the door. Katara moves over as the door swings shut again, and a red light turns the gaps in the door into dark char instead.

“It sealed shut?”

“Yeah, I think so. That was a good plan, Katara.”

“Yeah, well, I think they got confused, because Aang said they’re all wandering the island outside and nowhere near Appa.”

He snorts. That sounds like foolish Elders, alright.

“And the Avatar does not know of the truth?”

Sokka’s shoulders try to rise. He fights it for his sister’s sake. Just like how she moves forward to take the conversation for him.

“He assumes what he will, and we don’t correct him. It’s not needed and it’ll come out if the time calls for it. We just don’t want that being known by everyone yet.”

Which isn’t just the Fire Nation. It isn’t just those they might meet in the Earth Kingdom. It’s not just islanders and the odd traveller here and there.

The warrior tribe is somewhere out here, away from the South, and that means they’ll hear if there’s a firebender with the Avatar. All it’ll take is them knowing that the people are Katara and Sokka and they’ll know the truth he’d rather tell them in person.

Or not at all.

“I can understand that. The truth is your own and isn’t kept for any other reason. I keep similar truths to myself.”

Both siblings are now curious, of course, but the intent of the words matters more. The intent of the words is that if someone has a reason to keep a secret, it’s not always a bad thing.

“You’ll let this one be quiet, then?”

“I’ll let it be as quiet as the fact I have never been interested in having a wife.” Shyu laughs a little at the faces they make, and adds to his statement. “Because it is illegal for a husband to have a husband.”

“Oh,” Katara says, keeping her anger to herself. Sokka keeps his own anger to himself, too, but certainly not his irritation at a bunch of idiots.

“Everyone back home insists that they expected Bato to be the one to propose to our father first, not our mother.”

“Oh,” Shyu echoes, still smiling. “That seems a pleasant change. I might try to visit, if you’re not against that.”

“Prepare for it to be very cold,” is the only answer, and it’s from Katara because she actually remembers the cold exists. He hasn’t felt it in a decade.

Well…

A decade and a year, it seems.

“How did the Avatar learn of this place? I doubt he knew of it before the war started.”

“Apparently he was shown it when he entered the Spirit World for the first time. That was a few days ago.”

“You must have travelled fast.”

“We did, but we were pretty close to the coast.”

“Where was this place? It must be strongly connected for him to have managed without a guide.”

Katara pauses before answering. She knows from demanding more information from Sokka that the place was pretty void of Spirits and wouldn’t have been any stronger than a normal place even with the trees still there.

“Well, it was an accident. He was chasing the Spirit known as Hei Bai, who was grieving its forest being destroyed and attacking the nearest village at night.”

“Then it is lucky the Avatar came along.”

“Why?” Sokka asks, because the village would’ve been mostly fine if Aang hadn’t arrived. All they avoided was a whole village of people going missing.

“Because Spirits don’t care much for our world, outside that which benefits them. The Avatar is the only one who can mediate conflicts between our worlds.”

The siblings take a few steps away to gesture and make faces silently at each other.

Katara shows she’s confused. Sokka agrees.

Katara shows she wonders why the Elder would think such things. Sokka points out how complicated the world beyond the South is, so they can’t see all the ways Spirits are present.

Katara rolls her eyes, which translates into nothing but pure Katara, so he just rolls his eyes back and moves to the side.

And the Fire Prince comes sprinting into the room, launching fire at their faces.

Shyu deflects the fire, and Sokka uses that to draw his club and move in, closing distance. The Fire Prince’s technique is the same as that first time, but they both have seen each other fight before and this time, Sokka doesn’t have the terrain advantage.

Strangely, the guy isn’t using as much fire. Maybe the smaller space means there’s not as much room for flames. This time, it’s mostly dodging and ducking and using a forearm at his own to deflect his blows and predict the swings better. He growls, kicking out to shove the other back more, and goes to draw his boomerang.

The Fire Prince shoves fire at his feet, forcing Sokka to move sideways, and uses that moment to shove fire the opposite direction. This time, instead of falling for it, he ducks under, closing the distance again and going to uproot the guy’s stance. The other dodges, lunging around, and Sokka turns to meet hi-

A knee comes up at his chest, not hitting, and his reaction to it widens his arms just enough for the other to grab at his club. It’s yanked, and he doesn’t let go, but then that knee has gone down to his foot and landed hard.

He still doesn’t let go, but his grip does loosen, enough the club is flung from both their grasps.

And the four sages from outside have finally arrived, moving to help the Fire Prince, of course. Shyu is holding Katara as though to restrain her, though any with knowledge of how to get out of holds knows the Elder isn’t really trying.

Sokka’s arms are held by a person each, which is fortunate for them and not for him. He yanks on one side, trying to dislodge the right, but even when it almost works, the left tries to reach around him to get a better grip.

Stupid jerks. Stupid prideful idiots. Fools and liars and deserving of kicks to the groin.

He pauses a blink and kicks behind him, and sure enough, one of the sages falls to the ground with a satisfying sound of pain. Even he knows better than to stand behind anything with a strong leg. He laughs, just to show how little he views of them, and decides to try and scare them.

They look a bit scared, anyways.

“You better run before that fire guy, who was it, Roku? Finds out you lot aren’t doing your jobs. Disrespectful, isn’t it? Or is it dishonorable? I don’t think he’ll care which one it is.”

“Quiet. Find a better way to restrain them. The Avatar has to come out at some point.”

Sokka tries to kick the Fire Prince for that. Not the thing about Aang, because that’s just logic, but for telling Sokka to be quiet. He’s never quiet if he doesn’t want to be, and no one, especially not a glorified captain, will get away with telling him otherwise.

The Fire Prince does prove to have better reflexes. Still satisfying to watch the guy glare at him for trying. He just grins with all his teeth, which might look like baring them, and that’s fine by him.

The sages move, Shyu among them, to use a bunch of braided metal to wrap around the siblings. Sokka huffs at the excessive nature of it, because don’t they have rope? Just take the blades and use rope, and that’s it. That’s all that’s needed.

He spits on one. Katara nudges him to stop, and he raises a brow at her, so she spits, too. They receive twin glares from the two they hit. Worth it just for that.

“Do you know how long until the solstice ends? That is when the door will open.”

Sokka lets out another laugh, this one more because who the heck doesn’t know how to tell time? It’s the middle of the night, and all it takes for the solstice to end is the night to end. Aka when the Sun starts showing light over the horizon and the Moon is low.

“It would be an hour from now, Your Highness.”

“Then prepare yourselves for it. He can escape in ways others cannot.”

Great, an hour of waiting and trying to get a good plan. At least Katara and he aren’t being focused on, and the material is clunky enough he might be able to leverage it. In fact, if he could ju-

“Ah, Prince Zuko, a pleasure to see you here.”

The siblings turn to look with the rest, and Sokka’s heart sinks to his gut.

Fuck.

“Admiral Zhao. I take it you’re here for the Avatar as well.”

“Of course,” don’t look over, don’t look over, “The Fire Lord has decreed the Avatar must be captured,” please, just don’t look at the people in the back, they aren’t even moving, don’t look, “so I came to assure it happened.”

“It will be some time before he emerges.” Just focus on the Fire Prince, don’t look behind him.

“Then we’ll have plenty-”

The newcomer cuts himself off, and Sokka looks anywhere but at the man or Katara. He is not present. He is off on an adventure, sailing around and not anywhere close to the island where his dreams have been leading him for so long.

The fire and the red and the black and Roku’s dragon are one thing, but the Shiny Dream? That’s too far. That is too fucking far.

“Seal? What the hell are you doing here?”

“His name is Seal?”

The Fire Prince is ignored as Shiny stalks closer, coming up to the left of Sokka and staring hard. Probably has his arms crossed, too.

Why now? Why ever? What did he do to deserve this?

“Seal, why are you here?”

“Who’s Seal? Never met someone named after an animal so blatantly. Never met you, never seen you, never heard you.”

“A bold lie.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather kiss the Fire Prince than have this conversation, so why don’t you take the hint?”

Shiny does and doesn’t. He backs off, and uses that to start blatantly talking about Sokka.

“Prince Zuko, have you not yet learned his name?”

“No. I have learned the others but he seems to avoid giving his own.”

“Yes, he is a menace to order.”

“...What?”

The Fire Prince is clearly confused, but willing to go along with it. Bad firebender. Horrible, terrible, stupid firebending prince-guy.

“I met him four years ago. He broke into a compound and caused chaos and disruption to every process he could.” Sokka did not. He merely was eleven and believed he was in a dream that had no consequences and therefore he could have fun without it causing problems.

“Really? How did he infiltrate the ranks?”

“He didn’t. He was a child then, though I never learned his age.”

“A child?”

“The oldest guess was of a young teenager, and it was never confirmed. He snuck out the same way he got in and left behind a mess.”

Katara clears her throat very loudly.

Every sage, the Fire Prince, and Shiny all look to her. Sokka doesn’t, because he needs to keep his gaze fixed on the door. It is vital that he never looks at her again.

“Four years ago, you said? And how, exactly, did he enter a Fire Nation compound?”

“And you are?”

“His sister. And I think that it’s rather odd he met you and never mentioned it to me.”

“He entered through the system meant for messenger animals. He left the same.”

“This was not reported, then?” Thank every Spirit the Fire Prince has questions that don’t involve Sokka dreaming of a big building and somehow meeting a soldier who is now standing before him and remembers every moment. Honestly, the Riptide Spirit has some explaining to do. Some massive explaining.

Sokka tunes out the rest. He doesn’t want to listen, and he needs a plan. This whole thing is distracting him from preparing. Aang is inside, will be coming out soon, and there are six firebenders that wish to capture the kid and only one who wants to help. Shyu can’t even do much without giving away that he’s a traitor, and that’s no good for any future help. Maybe if they can-

End the liars! Kill! KILL!

He winces, snuffed at the end. The Stones of this place are loud and angry, and they seem to be preparing for something. Maybe for… maybe for Roku? The Avatar is part Spirit and it’s that half of Roku that is being spoken to by Aang. If Aang can speak to Roku, the Spirits can hear it, and that means they can hear whatever is being said.

Sokka turns to look at Katara. He tries to push all of his worry into his eyes, because as much as he trusts Aang, he doesn’t know if he can trust Roku. Not with the Spirits so ready, so angry and thinking it’ll end how they want it to.

Not when they’re waiting.

~

It is pure chaos when it happens.

Fire pours out of the room in waves and streams, chasing the heels of the sages. Shiny is gone, and so is the Fire Prince, likely so they actually survive. The metal holding Sokka and Katara melts like ice, but doesn’t actually have all that much heat touching them.

Which means that Aang is in there.

“Shyu, go! We’ve got him!” The Elder leaves, and Katara looks to her brother for a plan. He has a rather simple one.

He dashes for the hole in the wall, which happened sometime in the midst of the Avatar Spirit destroying the restraints and sending their enemies fleeing.

Is Shiny his enemy? Fuck, that’s gonna mess with him later.

Come.

The whistle won’t carry on its own. Let the Winds be helping. Appa needs to hear it, come for them, and they hop aboard with Aang. Shyu is already gone, so it’s just their group. They just have to get the whole group on Appa and they’re safe.

“I’ve got him! Can you see Appa?”

He can. Thank every Spirit of every place in all the worlds. Appa is rising and flying and coming straight for them.

“Yeah, he’s coming. How’s our guy?”

“Tired, like before. We’ll handle it after.”

Appa swings into place, groaning loudly in greeting or hurry. Regardless, they hop aboard and Sokka whistles to get them moving.

The building behind them falls, consumed by fire and melted rock and thick dark smoke. Hopefully, Shyu is safe.

~

The flight over the blockade goes easy, because so many of the ships were at the island and they didn’t expect a flying bison to come back the other way. Only when it’s out of sight, though, does Katara pull him aside. He expects it, since Aang is dead to the world.

“Explain. You said the Shiny Dream was, y’know, a dream.”

He sighs. He did. He thought it was. Thought it was the same as the Yak Dream, as the Fire Dream, as the Sneaky Dream. He had a lot of dreams when he was younger that he decided to just name because he remembered them and they didn’t get an answer or didn’t need one.

“I thought it was. I thought it was as much a dream as any other I’ve had. Even the recent ones aren’t like the old ones. They’re… they’re patched together from pieces and they mean things but nothing is at first glance. I was as surprised that Shiny is real and remembers me as I would be if a yak came over and started chatting with me about the Avatar and painting.

I didn’t mean to keep it from you. Really, Katara, I thought it wasn’t real. I thought it was just something that I woke up from and it was over and it wouldn’t matter for years.”

She listens, nods, and then pulls out her coat. He knows before he sees what she’s going to show him. Her left sleeve’s hem is held back, and there it is: the badge.

He remembers finding it in that shipwreck, back when they were young enough to risk it. They didn’t even go far, just inside the first opening. They found a piece of metal, different than anything they knew, and hurried back to clean and hide their find. Chances are that even now, their father has no idea they have it.

He’d been surprised and thought it was the meaning of the dream when it was the exact badge that Shiny wore.

“Who is he? You call him Shiny because of the metal, you gave him a badge and you have one we’ve always said you got in return, but who is he, Sokka? He knows you, and you keep saying that being known is dangerous.”

Who is he? Sokka doesn’t know. But he knows one thing much better: he only told her the simple things.

“It was in a big building. All black and red and fire. Metal, I know now. It was metal and charred stone and- it was the Fire Nation, clear enough. There was a tunnel, and I pulled a door off it that looked more like a net. I was small enough, and I only had to get rid of my coat to slip in.

There were people there. They were wearing different armor than the soldiers we know, lighter stuff. They had these marks across their eyes and bows at their backs. I found out that all of the ones inside are archers of some form or another. I thought it was interesting, but I kept going.

Then there was food, and I stole some because it was weird and I thought it was a dream. You can do anything in a dream and nothing bad happens in the real world. I moved items around, I locked doors without realizing because I just repeated what I’d seen, and I did cause chaos. I was eleven and having fun.”

Unsaid is that he hadn’t had fun for a while at that point. He doesn’t want to say it. Katara won’t if he won’t, and he’s glad for that.

“Regardless, I ended up getting caught, but even then, I thought it was just a dream. I didn’t speak because I didn’t feel like it, I didn’t learn anyone’s actual names because I just called them what they seemed like, and it seemed odd they just wanted to hang out and teach me things and get me looked over by their healer. I thought it was a dream meant to just… be a break.”

“And Shiny? When did he come in?”

“He came in with the healer, and I saw he had metal all over him. He was so shiny, reflecting all that fire and light and make so many shadows everywhere. So I called him Shiny and I followed him around because he was different. He was respectful in a way that wasn’t like everyone else - I think he just wasn’t very polite and the rest were. I found some wood and tried to carve it like his metal, and I gave it to him. That’s when he called it a badge, and that’s right before…”

“Before the Riptide took you home. Because it wasn’t just waking up. Somehow, you were there.”

He sighs again. Apparently he was somewhere full of the Fire Nation and made it out alive. Even got his freaking coat back because they thought he needed it.

“Did they call you Seal because of the paint?”

“It was all they knew about me. I was a kid from one of the tribes, with a tiger-seal’s face and blue clothes that made it hard to get things wrong. I didn’t tell them anything about where I came from because I didn’t think they’d even want to.”

“People in a dream tend to know more than in the waking world.”

“Exactly. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you so much earlier, but I truly thought it was nothing. I thought…” He thought a lot of things that just got shattered. How much was real in one world or another?

“I’m not angry,” he gives her a look, “okay, anymore, but I still worry. They know of you, enough that that Zhao guy- yes, he got called Admiral Zhao, were you listening at all?”

“No. I stopped listening about the time I saw his freaking face and realized it was Shiny. And you obviously listened for both of us.”

“Yeah, well, Admiral Zhao recognized you the moment he looked over. You are five years older,” right, today’s his birthday, “wearing far different clothes than you did at eleven, and not a bit of paint. He still knew it was you and was extremely confident before he realized you recognized him back. How much do they know?”

“As far as I know, they don’t know about the fire. I didn’t use it, okay? I was careful, even then, and I think the most I did was before they found me.”

“That’s something.” She sighs herself, and curls her legs up. The badge is hidden again as she drops her coat, and she reaches out to pull him closer.

Their heads meet and she wraps her arms further. It helps as much as when they were small and stressed about what they shouldn’t have had to stress about.

He lets the tension drain out of him top to bottom, reciprocating the embrace with a tighter grip.

“Thank you.”

“Always, Sokka. You carry too much and forget to share.”

He smiles.

“Y’know, I’ve been starting to realize that, too.”

“Those clouds look so soft,” Katara starts, waving a hand leisurely at the whiteness around them, “don't they? Like you could just jump down and you'd land in a big, soft, cottony heap?”

“Maybe you should give it a try.” She glares. He deserves that, just like he deserves her sarcasm.

“You’re hilarious.” She probably is mad he’s trying to joke when he’d usually tell her about his observations. He is weird, and he’s always been okay with that. He does not want to have Aang know just how weird so soon.

Strange lack of focus or over-seriousness switching back and forth like shifting weight? Okay, he can’t really do anything about that, and Katara helps him or he knows she’s gone and focuses up in her absence. His strategizing in every situation even when the others think they’re all safe? He won’t pretend that’s not something he does, because then people won’t know he has skills from practice and isn’t just coming up with random things.

But his tendency to learn about the world by just staring at it long enough? Absolutely not.

“I’ll try it!”

Of course he does.

Aang leaps off, dropping straight into a cloud and out of sight. Moments later, he flies back up, sitting in the back of the saddle and dripping with condensation.

“Turns out, clouds are made of water.”

Katara turns an eye to her brother, who is very not-obviously staring over Appa’s head to gauge their direction and adjust if needed. He’s just making sure they don’t waste time, don’t go wildly off-course!

She hits him anyways.

He snorts, putting away his carvings and knife, and moves to actually take the reins.

“Hey, what is that?” He looks down, and Aang moves to stand between the two. Sokka momentarily notes that he needs to help the boy dry off before he freezes, and focuses back before his sister notices.

A large forest… if it had been burned down.

Destroyed by fire.

He steers them down, because Aang needs to see it. Needs to see the truth about the pain that the war has brought and be just a little more serious. Katara will say something to help the kid feel better, then they’ll keep going, and the Avatar will know when to be the Avatar and when to be Aang a little bit better.

He lets the other two drop first, and keeps a hand on Appa’s side when he follows. They wander off slightly, looking around at the ash and char and stumps and hollowness of sound.

The whole place feels empty. No trees, no Winds or Stones talking, no birds or rodents scurrying about. The plants are fine, because he can see a few places where little bits of green are peeking out of the ash, but something is keeping the animals away.

Something is wrong.

“It's like a scar…” he mutters, because it is.

Rage fills up in him.

It’s sudden and hot and pushes against the sides of his chest, throat, eyes. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was breathing flames with how hot it is. It doesn’t even feel like his own, strong and festered. Infection, despair and grief when there’s no place for safety, vengeance wanted and vengeance too far.

It gets chased from his body by something empty, draining away and leaving behind some thought he can’t touch.

It isn’t his, then. Something in this place is mad, and it made a decision.

He breathes deep, trying to shake himself back to his own feelings, his own thoughts. Katara is holding a little nut, one of the ones that drop from these trees. Hope, then. New life, the sprouts already forming. Life will return here as it never could amongst ice, and that’s something to be positive about.

“Sokka?” He turns to acknowledge her, eyes trying to convey he’s fine now. “Aang says he needs to find Avatar Roku. Isn’t that… isn’t Roku dead?”

“Oh.” He thinks. The Avatar is the convergence of everything, the transition without transitioning. Balance includes a bit of everything. Tui and La are not just the skies and the water, but order and chaos, pattern and spontaneity, feminine and masculine. Similar, never the same.

The Avatar is all four elements at once. That is the obvious part. Most places haven’t seemed to mention the Spirits much, probably because they can talk to other people instead. The Avatar is half Spirit, half human, or so the stories say. Aang had a form that saved him, and it seemed to be that other half.

“The only way to meet Roku, then, is the Spirit half of the Avatar.”

“What?”

“Like what happened when he fell into the Ocean?” Katara says, ignoring both Aang’s confusion and mentioning the grief of the airbender. “He has to figure out how to use that?”

“Yeah, like putting on gloves to touch something. He needs to pull that part of himself forward so he can interact with someone who is accessible to Spirits but not to humans.”

“You guys thin- That’s something you think about? The Spirits? I know you said to pray, and you talk about the Moon and the Ocean and all that, but…” Aang trails off.

Katara frowns, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. It’s odd to them that no one else seems to pray, but if there’s more help, why would they ask as often? Now Sokka wonders if people out here ask at all.

“Our people tell stories of the Spirits, of the Avatar, of everything. Sokka remembers them better, so I trust him, but even if I didn’t, I remember that bit. The Avatar is balance. You protect nature, but also those who seem unnatural. The Spirits and the humans, fire and water, air and earth. If we didn’t believe in the stories, we wouldn’t be here.”

Wouldn’t be talking to Aang. Wouldn’t believe in the Avatar or airbenders. Wouldn’t think they could help the kid.

But also wouldn’t be alive.

He was five, and there was a blizzard, and the Spirits are why they lived.

~

He didn’t know what to make of it. Should he even think of it? Is that a useful way to spend his time?

The warrior, a tall woman standing behind him.

Yes. If he doesn’t think about it, it will force itself into his mind without stop.

There was darkness, which is typical for him. There was the Avatar Kyoshi, which would make sense when combined with the last sighting he had of the Avatar. Those warriors were strong and skilled, and he hasn’t gotten as close since.

But the slipper… That’s odd. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen that slipper, laying on the ground as if dropped or tossed aside. And immediately followed by a storm, raging around the ship.

Lieutenant Jee bowing, which wouldn’t be odd, except it wasn’t the lieutenant who rose from that gesture. A strange dark figure, with a startling smiling face that didn’t move even though it seemed to laugh at him.

And the same scream.

He frowns. These thoughts lead him nowhere. He can ask his uncle when the other returns. Where is the man, anyways? Shouldn’t he be back by now.

He stands, following the directions of his crew to find the hot spring his uncle found. Sure enough, there is Uncle Iroh. Unrepentant, not wanting to leave, and eventually Zuko just gives a warning about the schedule and moves to leave.

His uncle will make it. It’s not like he’ll actually leave, though. It’s technically his uncle’s ship, after all.

And it seems he does know that slipper. Its pair sat by the edge of the spring.

~

“So, are seed-nuts acorns or are different seed-nuts called different things?”

“I think acorns. It’s simple, right? Makes more sense than calling them a dozen other names or calling them ‘seed-nuts’. That’s just asking for jokes all the time.”

“Oh, like people can’t joke about everything. And anyways, I think that our experiences out here have shown people like to make things more complicated than they need to be.”

“You’re just mad about that Omashu chicken.”

Sokka huffs at her, which only pushes a smile on her face and a giggle out her throat. Jerk.

Aang laughs very loudly at them both, and moves to take the ‘acorn’ from them. He bounces it between his hands, moving the air so it does twirls and loops each trip.

“Technically, acorns are only the seeds of oaks. If it’s a nut, it’s a seed, too, and certain trees get their own words, but that’s because they have different tastes and uses in food. Some are more bitter, some taste like flowers, and some are even sweet! You just gotta learn which are which, and if you’re confused, just call them nuts!”

Sokka snorts.

“What is it with boys and puns?”

“It’s acornerstone of our humor.”

She punches his arm for that. Jokes on her.

Aang taps both of them, drawing their attention. He’s looking away, at an approaching figure. They’re a ways off, moving slowly and steadily, which explains why the siblings didn’t notice.

Predators move slowly and stop when noticed or move swiftly.

“Hey, who are you?” Sokka calls out to the person, who hears and moves slightly faster. Slow, still, and that tends to mean an Elder.

They haven’t had great luck with Elders. Here’s to hoping, he supposes.

“When I saw the flying bison, I thought it was impossible!” Oh. Is this a good intention or a bad one? “But, those markings ... are you the Avatar, child?”

Good ones. The man is an Elder, and a wiser one. He didn’t discount Aang’s status just because the kid is, well, a kid. That means that, at the very least, the man doesn’t mean any harm.

Katara glances at her brother, notes the conclusion in his shoulders, and nods to Aang, who nods at the stranger.

“My village desperately needs your help!”

Oh.

Whoops.

~

The village is, in fact, partially destroyed and with very sleepless-looking villagers. Practically the definition of in need of help.

And that seems to be on top of the nearby forest’s destruction, which is bad as is. Larger animals scared off, any edible plants struggling, and the people’s bodies using more out of sheer stress.

“This young person is the Avatar!” Sokka appreciates Kay-fon. The guy isn’t the wisest of Elders, but he’s a decent person all the same. Not a fool, not cruel, not even falling for what so many have or will. Announcing the Avatar as young, but not a child, giving hope but also putting a line down on expectations.

“So, the rumors of your return are true!” Must be the leader. “It is the greatest honor of a lifetime to be in your presence.”

“Nice to meet you too! So... is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m not sure…” Okay, that explains some of why Aang was surprised. Do people even believe in the Spirits at all? If they get to the North and none of their sister tribe prays, he will fight the Fire Lord alone instead of dealing with them.

“Our village is in crisis, he's our only hope!” Kay-fon seems to have the most knowledge, which makes sense for an Elder. Still, Sokka fights the urge to block the man’s view to Aang as the boy is addressed.

And then forgets that urge even exists.

“For the last few days at sunset, a Spirit monster comes and attacks our village. He is Hei Bai, the black and white Spirit.”

Monkeyfeathers.

Black and white and angry.

“Why?” It comes out different than he wants, stressed and slightly, uh, aggressive, if the looks on his siblings’ faces tell him anything. Not that he looks that hard.

“We do not know, but each of the last three nights, he has abducted one of our own. We are especially fearful because the winter solstice draws near.”

“When the Spirits come closer to our world,” Katara finishes. They both know the time, the brightest time of the Polar Night when the Stars and Moon and the Lights are all present as they never are other times.

“Yes. There is no telling what Hei Bai might do then.”

Aang is less confused, but certainly more worried. Sokka would be, too, if he had to face off an incredibly enraged Spirit so close to the time when said Spirit is most powerful in the mortal world.

“So, what do you want me to do, exactly?”

“Who better to resolve a crisis between our world and the Spirit World than the Avatar himself? You are the great bridge between man and Spirits.”

“Hey great bridge guy, could I talk to you over here for a second?” Katara pulls Aang over, and so Sokka makes a gesture that they’re talking alone so he can join them.

She’s right to pull aside. Aang’s worry is rarely misplaced (outside learning about the tribe, though that’s more the worry about what answers you’re gonna get), and the boy is trying to hide it. The same shifting and the same lack of frown and lack of smile at once.

How he feels about being the Avatar when he just feels like Aang.

“Aang, you seem a little unsure about all of this.” Katara has already put a hand on the kid’s shoulder, leaning forward to block him from sight outside their little circle.

“Yeah, that might be because I don't know anything at all about the Spirit World. It's not like there's someone to teach me this stuff!”

“Can you help these people?”

“I have to try, don't I? Maybe whatever I have to do will just… come to me?” The statement is definitely a question he hopes is a statement.

“I think you can do it, Aang.”

Encouraging words.

But encouraging words do nothing when there’s no path forward to take. You just get more lost trying and have to hope you stumble on the right path sooner instead of later.

So he grabs the other shoulder, leans in as far as his sister has, and gives the direction for the encouragement to actually work. 

“Hei Bai has a reason. Find the issue, solve it, and that’s all.”

“That’s all?”

He nods. The more steps the mind makes, the harder it is to move forward. One step at a time, as few as possible.

“Also, my birthday is the solstice, so you better get it done before then.”

~

Aang is standing out alone. Everything in him screams to join the boy, because the kid shouldn’t face a Spirit alone.

Shouldn’t face anything alone.

“He’ll be fine. The worst thing that happens is he’s ignored. The Spirits won’t take him when he’s not fully human.”

He tries to fake his shoulders relaxing. It doesn’t work, judging by Katara reaching to squeeze his hand. He doesn’t pull away, moreso to help her own anxious thoughts calm.

“Your sister is right. If anyone can do this, it is the Avatar.”

He doesn’t even acknowledge the Elder.

Aang still waits alone.

And the Sun dips out of sight.

Hei Bai is, without a doubt, the Spirit in his dreams. Starved of something, angry about something, not what it should be. It doesn’t even pay attention to Aang, instead immediately starting to destroy the buildings around it.

He doesn’t wait. The others hiding with him shout but he ignores it because his brother needs help.

“Oy, Hei Bai! Pay attention to him! He can help you!” Boomerang does nothing, not even noticed, and Aang tries to cut Sokka off.

Cold-empty-angry-

No vengeance to take, no safety to make, no room to breathe-

Red-black death, pain and grief burned into cold ash-

Something wraps around his body.

He’s jolted back to his senses by the feeling, and he realizes the mistake that moment of lapse was. Hei Bai has grabbed him in one massive hand, rushing off faster than animals can run. Spirits aren’t animals. Aang is following.

He tries to shout, something wordless pushing past what presses on his mind and throat. Aang needs noise. Noise gives direction. Aang needs direction.

The world shifts, tilts, and he can’t breathe-

He wakes up, and the world is not his.

He knows that the moment his eyes can see. The world he’s from is bright because of the Sun and the Moon and Stars and the green and the brown and the white. It’s bright because of people.

There are only three people with him, and all of them are asleep.

Nothing obvious is wrong, not as individuals, but nothing is right, either.

The air is blue, but more like light through ice in the caves where their ancestors rest. The trees are green and brown, but the roots don’t touch earth where they have in the mortal world. The green is tinged with something that same slightly far-off thing the air has, the brown turned softer than before. There’s a small stream, one of the ones Aang called a creek because he could walk the rocks across easily. The stream is normal looking, and something in Sokka’s gut says that it means the water is from their world.

Meant for them…

Hei Bai isn’t around, but there are signs of the Spirit. Not violent, and therefore not what the Spirit has been showing the Senlin tribe. The Spirit doesn’t mean harm to the people.

The Spirit doesn’t mean harm, but still took them.

And the marks of its presence are trees that are small and skinny, rough and hardy. The trees bear fruit, flowers and full-grown bits, too. Large willows, softer than any Sokka’s known and are of the Spirit world where the scraggly ones are of the mortal world. The leaves are shedding slowly, forming a place beneath where none of the fallen green has withered or hardened away from its origin.

Food. Rest. Water.

Three people for three nights.

Sokka for the fourth.

He stares, just taking it all in for a moment. He can feel eyes on him, but none are the sort a predator makes, nor even a prey. Curious, maybe, but not intent on learning anything in particular or doing anything with that information.

Other Spirits, then. The smaller sorts, the Stones and the Winds and such. He’s wondered what they look like. He doesn’t feel like knowing.

Hei Bai hasn’t been taking people to be cruel, or to seek vengeance. It would have killed someone, even just hurt someone, at least one of the nights. Instead, it has taken people and placed them where they will surely be safe from the dangers of the mortal world.

Of the world where humans fight humans and fire does more harm than it should.

Hei Bai must have been hurt, then, by the forest’s destruction. Sokka can understand grief. He can understand when that grief tries to burn into anger, rage, tries to do something to what the mind says caused it. And he can understand that, in the end, there is no one to fight, no place for that anger to go that isn’t something he wants to help and protect.

The Spirit is scared.

It couldn’t stop the Fire Nation, and the village is so close to the destruction. Make the scene look like there is no village left and put the humans somewhere safe. Protect what’s left, the creatures that never left or died, not like the animals or the plants or even the other Spirits who all went to greener places.

Senlin didn’t. They stuck around.

Hopefully, Aang comes to the same conclusion.

~

He really needs to use the bathroom. It’s been a full day and he hasn’t even drunk anything, but the stuff he drank prior seems to be trying to cause a flood to break out of his torso.

He’s being dramatic, of course, with nothing else to think about. He doesn’t want to be dramatic about not being able to sleep, even more than usual, because that means he has to admit he wishes he could sleep.

The other people haven’t woken up yet. He wonders if there’s a method to that, or if they just have to sleep for a long time compared to in their usual world.

He’s walking out of very thin trees.

It’s a sudden change, and he doesn’t know when it happened, or maybe it only just did. He tries to hurry, and falls through when the stalks end. He’ll need to ask Aang about them late-

“SOKKA!”

He is nearly knocked over by two weights charging into him. He wraps an arm around each to avoid falling.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“I will answer when I’ve gone to the bathroom.”

He takes a minute at most, and they’re still impatient when he gets back. Really, he wasn’t about to hold it a minute longer after an entire day.

“Okay, I’m fine, it was a bit weird and had no bathrooms. I assume Aang figured out the issue with Hei Bai?”

He gets a babble of questions, information, and random words. He manages to get the explanation that Hei Bai calmed down because Aang showed the acorns, and that’s about it.

Well, it’s all he needs to know. He can get more details later, when there’s no panic or relief getting in the way.

He waits for them to calm a little, and reassures once more he’s fine, and herds them towards the village leader.

Is this one also called a governor? Is that for certain villages?

“Thank you, Avatar. If only there were a way to repay you for what you've done.”

“You could give us some supplies or money.”

“Sokka!”

“We need stuff, Katara, and it’s not like either of you ever let people know.”

“It would be an honor to help you prepare for your journey,” the leader answers, and Sokka uses that moment to gesture emphatically because he’s right.

Katara huffs and starts talking to Aang so she can ignore him. He’s okay with that. He’s more than okay, really, because he’s back in the right world and his siblings feel well enough to bicker with him.

and now I have an idea for an AU where Avid comes back as a demon-vampire after everyone's left and decides to bring his 'family' back to life, meaning that Owen comes back to find the fledgling he hated and killed now extremely powerful

but instead of necromancy being used to get revenge, Avid keeps insisting Owen accept that they're family and eat more bc he's skinny and also Legundo is on the list to be brought back, does Owen want to kiss the doctor or kill him or both? Avid can help with both!

He’s in so much trouble.

Not physically- well, not fatally. Katara will definitely be using her full strength in whatever hit she deals upon finding out. Which she is about to. Both her and Aang have decided to take initiative. He wishes very much that they hadn’t. He’s been relying on them not taking inventory.

They are taking inventory.

The food they have is not much, and he’s been trying to ration it without giving too little to the others. Hunting has been slow and he’s still learning the patterns of animals that live in green. He’s even been eating less, mostly sticking to the meat, so that it lasts longer and they don’t worry. They shouldn’t have to fear hunger, and the map that Aang brought might not be that accurate, but there’s a water source that’s big enough for a population.

Things around here seek water more than anything, he’s learned. There’s gotta be a village there, something with food he can trade or work or pay for. It’s only a day or two away. They’ll see it from Appa’s back, the view of a bird giving him more range than he’s ever had before.

“Sokka, why didn’t you say something?” Katara’s tone is very curious and not at all upset, which means she’s so upset he should run. He doesn’t, because he brought this on himself.

“Because there’s gonna be a village soon, near the water that’s coming up, so I planned for that to resupply.”

“Have you been eating as much as us?”

“No, but I’ve been eating more meat than usual. That keeps me going enough, and we can plan better for next time.”

His shoulder hurts for several minutes after she hits it, but she comes back from filling their waterskins with less tension in her shoulders, so she’s not holding a grudge this time. He won’t get away with rationing more to them anymore, but they’re close enough. It shouldn’t matter, because even just finding a hunter to get advice from would help.

“Don’t do that again.” The tone has changed to a very happy one, and he knows the threat that is hidden in that tone. He nods, gives her a thumbs-up, and grabs the ‘skins to start purifying them.

They’re already done, which explains why she took so long.

He stores them, instead. He needs to find that village before Aang gets angry. The kid’s more concerned right now, but that will very quickly turn to rage if Sokka can’t get more food and keeps rationing himself. No one wants to know what an angry Aang looks like.

~

They land near the water on the other side, and Sokka gives hunting one more try before they decide to go searching.

He steps in three bad spots and scares off several animals he didn’t even know were there. The smells are very strong, to the point where he thinks he’s found something fresh and it’s old but then he finds a set of tracks that lead to the water. Otherwise known as something keeping itself hidden by jumping spaces. On the ice, you can actually see some of those, and it only works on the animal predators. Now, he’s realizing how hard a time he gave the owl-wolves. They’re dumb, sure, but not for all the reasons he thought. More like half of them.

Maybe three-quarters.

Regardless, he only gets a few nuts, and even those are only the ones he decides are safe enough to grab. He’s pretty sure some are just rocks. He doesn’t want to bring them back to the others, but he has to bring what he’s got, even if it’s small. That’s the way hunters must live.

“Did you get anything?” Aang’s eyes are big, but Katara’s aren’t looking anywhere near her brother. She knows as well as Sokka that if hunting is successful, you see it.

“Uh, got some rock-shaped nuts, some oval-shaped ones, and some that might just be rocks. Momo can have those.” He tosses the uncertain ones over, watching as Momo tries to crack them and they prove they are, in fact, rocks shaped like nuts.

“Oh.”

“It’s okay, we can look for a settlement. They’ll have something to spare.”

“Okay!” Aang perks back up, though it’s definitely slightly forced. Given that it’s Aang, Sokka assumes that the airbender is more upset that Sokka kept the information from them in the first place, and less upset by the lack of food.

BOOM

Momo shrieks, which is fair given the sound puts all the humans on edge, too. Sokka looks to Katara, checking she’ll keep a hand out for Aang, before going to retrieve the small creature.

“C’mon, Aang. If we want to investigate, make sure to stick close.”

“What do you think it is?”

“Collapse,” Sokka answers for her, motioning for them to flank. His sister falls in position, one hand on Aang’s arm to pull him along. They haven’t encountered weak ground out here, but that doesn’t mean that they are completely safe from it.

He leads them forward, one ear trained to the others’ footsteps and his weight testing the ground. He moves faster than normal for this, though, because it didn’t sound like a normal collapse. But without knowing what it could be, there isn’t a strategy he trusts as much.

Not that he trusts running towards the noise, but the others will definitely go without him if he decides to do the sensible thing. Hence, he needs to take the most sensible route of the nonsensible ones.

The trees thin out sooner than he expects, but then he sees a ravine, deep and wide. It almost looks made, but that could also be that it’s stone and dirt instead of ice and snow. He motions Katara and Aang into crouches, and they move much more slowly.

It’s an earthbender. Not fancy like the Omashu idiots. Something simpler, more of the average outfit that he saw on Kyoshi Island, just green instead of blue. They’re practicing, lifting and dropping boulders. Precision, maybe? Strength and precision in the form of controlled lifts of massive things? Is earthbending like waterbending where the more of the thing there is, the harder it is to control or even manipulate? Or maybe more like firebending, where once he’s established the stuff he’s gonna manipulate, it’s only difficult to be precise about it. Probably more like water, because solids move less than liquid, and air moves a lot, and he knows that heat can travel pretty fast or it wouldn’t leave areas so quickly.

Katara is moving. Why is she approaching a stranger? Never mind. She approached Aang.

“Hello there! I'm Katara! What's your name?”

The bender runs away and uses those boulders to block the group from following. Immediately, Sokka rushes forward. He doesn’t even hear what the other two said, because he’s looking around to figure out if the danger is around them. Seeing nothing, that must mean that the danger is social. The village must be close, but now they need to approach carefully.

Still keeping quiet about the Avatar being around, which should be easier now that Aang knows why that’s needed. Maybe more. There isn’t enough information to prepare properly. He needs to keep his eyes moving if they’re to actually make it through the village without getting into trouble.

“Sokka, you back yet?”

“Yeah,” he responds. He shakes his head, then turns properly to his sister. “Sorry, yeah, I’m back. Uh, keep yourself aware when we go to that village.”

“We were just talking about that. The guy must’ve been running to the nearest settlement. C’mon, we’ll talk as we go.”

He nods, walking beside her and keeping her in his peripheral so he doesn’t get lost. They haven’t had to walk like this for a while, but it’s very useful. He taps her arm to show his thanks, then starts sorting his thoughts better.

If they’re walking through the village, the others need to stick close. The biggest issue that’s happened is being separated or them getting into trouble without him. If he tells them to signal instead… not whistles, and Aang doesn’t know tapsticks. Maybe just the others tell him when they want to go to a different stall, and he takes them around and holds the money, to make sure that no one messes with them. Then he’ll be avoiding them going off because they want to do what he doesn’t and he can still keep them from doing things that just end badly.

Maybe he tells them to stick together if they decide to wander off? No, that gives them the idea that they can wander off without him getting upset. He doesn’t want them away from him at all if a bender ran away from kids.

They might see that guy. If he says poor things, they might experience an issue with the villagers being negative before the group even talks to anyone. Then again, maybe the bender didn’t say anything. He seemed pretty worried about them, so it might be that they don’t even think to tell anyone.

Katara stops, and he turns to meet her gaze because that means they’re almost there.

“What’s the decision? We can see the village from here.” He looks, and there is, in fact, a settlement within sight. A half-hour walk, maybe.

“Stick close. If you want to go somewhere, signal me. Normally, but still let me know. I don’t want us splitting up, and especially not you two disappearing to do something random.”

“Reasoning?” He blinks, taking a moment to form his words. A bit harder, but he’s been lost to the world for a while, hasn’t he?

“The guy ran for a reason. We’re strangers, people just walking by, and he saw a bunch of kids and decided it was too dangerous. There wasn’t danger there, so the danger is probably to do with people. I don’t know what’s in that village, but if we’re to get supplies and not get into trouble, we gotta stick together and I need to be there if someone starts a fight. Aang won’t fight and I don’t want you using waterbending. That Fire Prince came for us on Kyoshi Island, and any information about the group that gets out is another clue for people like him to find us and try to catch Aang. That enough?”

She nods, mouth in a line instead of smiling or frowning. Thinking, then, and not feeling strongly about anything. Good. She shouldn’t have to worry when they don’t even know if there’s anything to actually worry about. It could’ve just been that guy’s problem.

“Okay, so what if we see something to buy?”

“Hey, just to check, Aang, who has the money?”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

Sokka scuffs the kid’s head, though much more gently than he does for Katara. Kid might be strong, but definitely not gonna be used to it.

They start the walk, and the village doesn’t show any signs of being an issue. So far, just normal-seeming people wandering around, busy with whatever tasks they have for the day. There’s several stalls of food and even a few with decent preserved versions. They mustn’t get a whole lot of travellers if they don’t have that many preserved food for sale. Kyoshi Island had a very good amount because they constantly are preparing for those few ships that come to trade with them.

They should check prices on the preserved food first, and bulk of it. Appa’s saddle is restrictive mostly in how they can secure things, so he’ll have to think about what they can squeeze in or tie to the edges. Given the travel, it’ll be more worth it for them to plan to stop in villages or for Sokka to hunt and then focusing on having food for short-term.

He leads them forward, because Katara can be trusted to keep them nearby if he’s decided and also explained. He explained, and she seems to agree with his reasons, so he can trust them. He can trust Katara, at least, and Aang listens to her.

He eyes over the stalls as they move, not actually buying anything yet, but he’s also pretending to show the others some fun things. They’re good at being excited and he won’t offend anyone by not buying when he’s stopping because he’s not stopping at their stalls, technically. He doesn’t know if that would even be okay, but he also doesn’t know if anyone will try to pressure him. He won’t fold to pressure, but that, in itself, would likely make a few quick-tempered folks not want to sell to him ever.

Maybe they should focus on getting the grains that he’s heard about, so they can make a lot of filling things. Rice apparently expands in water, which is very useful for storage, and doesn’t go bad if he seals the container right. He can try to learn that, right?

Katara taps his arm, and he follows her side-gaze. She’s not looking directly, and the building looks like more of the indoor stalls he’s been wondering about. Well, she saw something, so they should probably go in.

He heads that way, giving a false gesture for the others to follow. They’d follow regardless, but if he’s deviating, he needs to give reason for them to pay attention.

The bender is inside. He can see now that the guy is young, maybe Katara’s age, at most being Sokka’s. There’s a woman next to him, and Sokka is willing to bet that she’s the mother. The stuff is pots and baskets, which would make sense if one is a bender and one is not. Pretty easy to make more.

He directs Katara away, because she loves just talking to people and that is not what is needed. She, at least, trusts him to make that call, and goes to look at the containers all around the wall. They could actually use more containers.

“Hello, ma’am,” he says in a low voice, using the term that Aang once used for Gran-Gran. That was supposed to be polite, so surely it’s polite right now. “I was wondering if I could confirm something that rather worries me.”

“Oh?” Her face remains neutral, curious even, but her sudden stillness gives her away. Her son is looking away, clearly trying to not show his face.

“It’s not what you think, even if it is. We came across your son training, and he left in a hurry. Such a hurry that I’m rather worried about my siblings and their safety in this village.”

“Training? There’s nothing-”

“He was bending, ma’am. Is that a problem in this town?”

“My son isn’-”

“Ma’am.” He can understand panic, but he needs an answer. “I have two benders with me. Is that a problem?”

She looks at the younger two, who are looking at a few pots but glancing over. Listening, but in a way meant to be subtle. Well, subtle for kids. Then the mother looks back to him, and her voice drops to so quiet he has to lean forward on the wall between them to hear it right.

“All the earthbenders have been taken. I don’t know if they would do anything for yours, but you should keep it secret until you’re out of here.”

“Thank you. And don’t be hard on your kid, because we were far from the village when we saw him.”

A knock interrupts her response. He glances over, and the mother moves to answer it. Her worried look tells him to act quickly.

He gestures for Aang and Katara to move to the corners. His sister, at least, knows the benefits of that position when they’re being stealthy. Meanwhile, he moves closer to the boy, clearing his throat and starting to speak quietly.

“We’ve been talking this whole time. You’re helping me know which pot to get.”

“Right, yeah,” the kid answers with anxiety in his voice. “Durable pots. Uh, we got some really good ones?”

“What do you want? I've already paid you this week!” He turns to look, trying to keep it the casual stance of someone hearing aggressive tones.

“The tax just doubled.” What the fuck is tax? Sokka immediately hates the man, and more because of the arrogance in his stance than that he’s wearing the colors of the Fire Nation. “And we wouldn't want an accident, would we?”

Fire forms in the man’s hands. A man. Threatening a mother and her child. With fire. He wants to punch the man. He settles for something less obvious.

“Fire is sometimes so hard to control.” The fire snuffs out.

The three youngest in the room are laughing and trying desperately to smother the noises. Sokka smiles and tries to make it not a smirk. The mother immediately shushes the three, and gives a hard look at Sokka, who shrugs.

“What, he made it pretty clear this is the only thing he’s good at.”

The man turns with anger burning in his eyes. Sokka meets that gaze head-on. He knows how to argue without arguing. It’s how he got some of the men to shut up when they were being annoying.

Fire ignites in the man’s hand again, and Sokka pushes his face into a semi-empty expression.

“See?” It’s all he says, but the way the firebender’s mouth twists means that the winner is already clear. There’s no way for the guy to keep threatening without proving Sokka is right. And there’s nothing someone hates more than being told that they only thing they’re good at is something so simple.

Especially not since he literally said that the fire is hard to control, which could now be taken at the words alone, and that would just be more in favor of Sokka than the ‘tax’ guy.

Sure enough, the jerk walks right out, steps loud as he puts his anger in his boots. Sokka waits just long enough for the guy to be out of hearing before snickering.

“Good one, Sokka. Forgot you could do that.” Katara pats him on the shoulder, moving to join him at the little wall.

“Yeah, well, it only works on certain people. That one’s easy. He f- didn’t have a clue how to do anything with his words besides say them.”

A hand grabs his arm and pushes him through the gap. He lets the mother, because he knows she’s got good reason. He doesn’t need to know what the reason is to actually follow someone who knows more.

“Come with. You’ll stay with us.”

Seems they will. Well, at least she’s someone who cares about other tribes’ kids.

~

The earthbender, Haru, and his mother, Sanae, let them stay in their barn. While the others handle settling Appa in (and likely chatting), Sokka goes to help with whatever chores Sanae will allow. She puts him on washing the dishes from their meal, doing something else that he looks away from. They’re already intruding on her home. He won’t do any more than they already have.

Conversation isn’t usually intrusion, right? It is for him, but he’s weird. Surely this woman is normal enough that he won’t be rude for talking. He could ask Katara, but that would require walking away from the chore he’s been given. He doesn’t want to worry her that he’s not going to do it.

“You were worried about Haru getting taken. I can understand that caution.”

“Do you?” She’s defensive. For good reason, if she’s a mother and worried about her only child’s safety.

“I do. I’ve worried about my sister for longer than she’s listened, not that that says much when she hardly listens. But I also am well-aware of how determined benders can be. If all those who hide their abilities threw aside caution as one, they’d have no trouble at all.”

“And do you tell about your fire?”

He keeps washing, trying to cover the stutter in his movements. He doesn’t like the idea that someone figured it out, but if anyone was going to, it would be the vigilant mother who was already suspicious of him. He just needs to tread as carefully as on a floe.

“Most don’t question how I light the fire when it helps us survive.

“That is the same, then, as the fear we feel. Why not tell if you’re safe?”

Well.

Well.

“That is not the same. It’s not.” He turns to face her fully, setting down the plate in his hands and setting his expression in the same one he once used on Siqniq, on Katara, on the people who asked him why he hid.

He takes a deep breath, trying to dim some of his anger before he says too much or says things wrong.

“I hide from my family. I’d show it in a heartbeat to protect them. I fear how my father would react to knowing of it, but I would let him see if I could guarantee his safety, even just one more night. I fear the anger, the rage that comes from what those who misuse fire have done, but I have never doubted that it is more important for me to use fire the right way than to never use it at all.”

He turns back to his chore, and leaves her to the quiet. He’ll finish, then go outside. Finish the chore, go back to his siblings, rest and resupply the next day, leave. That’s all they have to do.

~

Haru is taken.

Katara blames herself, which will fade soon enough, because she also insists on going to get him back. It’s a stupid idea, but moreso because she has to pretend to be a different type of bender and will be surrounded by the Fire Nation under tight watch. However, Sokka knows he can’t stop her and if he goes along with it… she’ll probably let him figure out the safest way to do what will fundamentally be incredibly unsafe.

It’s better than nothing.

Better than losing his sister to the same fires that took their mother.

“We need to expect them to not have anything to bend. Help me empty out the saddle. We can fill it with sand and then dump that wherever the benders are. Aang stays out of the fight wherever we can, because them knowing the Avatar is there is going to cause troubles after this.”

Both kids are already emptying the saddle. He joins them, trying to think of where sand might be. He can ask Sanae if he comes up without.

He might as well. He needs to also make sure to ask about her watching their things for them. No use letting someone steal all their supplies they barely have.

Well… Okay. Time to use his brother’s airbending to pretend his waterbender sister can earthbend. Easy enough.

~

He doesn’t appreciate how casually they take the situation, but he tries to hold back his snapping. They both are kids, after all, and the best way to help kids do boring or serious tasks are just to make them games. Make it fun. Make it something they can put their hearts and souls into without realizing how seriously they’re taking it.

“Alright, Aang, they’re coming. Pay attention for a few seconds and be sneaky.” He tries for a tone of conspiracy and cleverness, and despite the kid being, y’know, the Avatar, Aang leaps up, jumping to his position at the first vent.

It’s something, at least. And that something isn’t messing with a tiny paper-bird.

He moves back to his own place, right next to the vent. He takes a deep breath, digs very deep, and comes up with all the rage he’s not allowed to let out because siblings have to love each other.

“Get out of my way, pipsqueak!”

“How dare you call me pipsqueak, you giant-eared cretin!” Oh, she did not just pull that one!

“What did you call me?” She better take it back, or he’ll tell Gran-Gran when they get home. He can hold a grudge if he carves it into a stick!

“A giant-eared cretin! Look at those things! Do herds of animals use them for shade?”

“You better back off!” He leans in closer and mutters in a way that looks angry, but with more of a tone to remind her that just because they can yell the hard things right now, they have to be rocks, not icicles. “Seriously, back off.”

Her eyes say she heard him, but she’s committed to the task at hand, which means she’s accepting her fate. Which means he can’t throw her in the snow for it, because she’d take it back in any other situation.

“I will not back off! I bet elephants get together and make fun of how large your ears are!”

“That's it! You're going down!”

“I'll show you who's boss! Earthbending style!”

The rock lifts, and the soldiers assume it was Momo. Are all soldiers like this? Do they just become soldiers because they only have to think about how to follow orders? Or is this just a poor coincidence?

They take Katara away, regardless. Sokka moves instantly in the opposite direction, towards Sanae’s home and Appa and the plan that means she’s fine. She’ll be fine. It’s okay.

She’ll be fine.

He’ll get her back.

~

They find the ship that doesn’t move. The barge pulls into a smaller bit, and he can see people getting off. He can’t tell who’s Katara. It’s okay, though. They saw her get on. She’s there.

Circle. Appa listens, and they settle into a lazy gliding loop, like how the seabirds back home do. The sand is softer than the leather, but it still does nothing for his worries.

“Hey, Aang? Take a nap or meditate. You’ll need energy for whatever chaos she causes down there. We’re dropping at night, remember?”

The boy nods, quiet because he’s as worried as Sokka, and settles down on the sand, facing away. Probably won’t sleep for a while, but might get some rest before they head back into trouble again.

So much trouble.

They’ve only been gone, what, a month, less? So little, and yet they’ve done so much. The temple and its pain, the island and its warriors, the foolish guards and their trickster king. Everything new and strange and he would’ve seen almost no issue with it all. New and strange doesn’t mean bad, not in his experience.

But he can hardly hunt, and he’s the only one who can.

He can hardly fight, and he’s the one who has to protect the other two.

He can hardly keep them from running off so often, and he doesn’t even want to, because they run off to help. Help travellers, help strangers, help those who need help because they are helpless. He wants to help, but he has to protect them, keep them back, hold them back-

When others are unsteady, we provide sanctuary.

He’s unsteady, though. His feet don’t go where he needs them to, his eyes and his ears and his nose don’t know what to search for…

Where’s his sanctuary? Did she ever tell him?

That’s amazing! Why did you learn it?

What’s bothering you? I’d love to share.

Who cares? Well, I do. Should I not?

He lost it.

He was nine, and he lost his sanctuary.

He was nine, and he had to be a man.

He’s fifteen, and he has to be sanctuary for others. He has to be who his mother was. Who she is. He’s not as strong or steady as his father, able to handle anything as long as he has his club in his hand and someone to care about.

Katara is. She’s good at keeping track of things like their mother was, sure, but she does it like their father. She never sees it, never thinks she’s someone who needs protection just because she’s strong.

She’s strong, and so is their father. Without their mother, their father would never have felt safe enough to be weak. Katara rarely lets anyone see her weak, but lets him see. She’s Kya’s furs on Hakoda’s iron.

He’s not strong like she is. He holds on, and he carries when no one else can, but he’s softer, weaker. He knows how to learn and he knows how to do, but he doesn’t have the strength to go and do when every odd is against him. He has to have a chance he can reason, a target for his weapon. He can’t figure it out as he goes like his sister.

Fuck.

He wants his mother back. He wants his mother back, and she’s gone, and now his sister is, too. He has to get Katara back. He has to get her back or he’ll- he-

He has to learn to have his mother’s warmth. Learn how to be sanctuary and hold onto people who need his support and pretend he’s steady. He’ll be fine if he keeps going.

He has to be.

He has to learn.

He won’t let them take the only family he’s got left. Not a fucking chance.

~

Night comes, and he sneaks aboard to get Haru, get Katara, and get back on Appa. Of course, as she always does, she refuses to leave everyone else on the ship who needs help. Which means that the sand is definitely gonna be used.

How unfortunate.

He gets a plan together, and he’s glad she paid attention to what is actually on the not-ship. Coal is useful, almost as much as sand will be. Fire can’t control either, even when they’re hit with it, but fire hitting them will make the earth more powerful.

Well, if the earthbenders can bend solid sand. Or if they can manage to carry that stuff with the unforged sand.

“Katara, stop! You can't win this fight!” Stupid old man. Stupid soldiers. Everyone. All of them. Bad and stupid and cowards.

“You either fight with us or we fight for you! Sokka and I will die to give you your freedom, so feel free to watch us do just that!”

Good. She wants to fight? The soldiers’ll have to go through them to get there!

Coal comes up, and Katara pulls her water out. Boomerang is cold as ice in right hand and club in his left.

And Haru moves forward to join them, ship rattling as the coal rises to meet his wrath.

Good day to knock some sense into idiots.

Come.

He rushes forward, eyes squinted as he does. The first soldier falls before realizing he’s moved, the second uprooted from his stance, and the third drops as he ducks the fire. Katara douses the fire, moving closer to the edges as she does so what she loses will soon be replaced tenfold.

Haru throws coal at the flames approaching him, putting a wall up on a different side and then using the now-smoldering rock to whack into a soldier going for Katara. The earthbender’s stance is strong and steady, as unmoving as stone is for others.

Flames come for Sokka’s head. He turns, nearest shoulder tilting down, but he might need to grab them i-

Something comes under his back and moves him faster than he reacts. He straightens just as it falls back, and nods to the bender who helped him. And also covers his eyes to signal they should squint.

About half of them squint, the others covering their eyes, which is something that helps them more than the clueless soldiers who didn’t see his signal. Sand falls all around, getting into the eyes not protected and settling on the metal floor in a large cloud. Aang drops down with it, using the colors as cover to start throwing it as though an earthbender himself.

Better than nothing on the don’t-let-people-know front.

Sokka moves again, and the earthbenders are moving, too. They rush forward, grabbing coal or sand or even just throwing punches. The forged sand doesn’t seem to move with the bending, but it’s easily carried along, and he can hear it hit.

All around him, black rock flies, back and forth, smoldering and large and angry. The soldiers throwing fire get knocked aside with each moment, outnumbered and outmatched.

The leader of them drops down, throwing fire directly at the one who didn’t believe. There’s no way the old man will turn in time to block, so Sokka moves into the path. Haru moves, too, but without any earth to help, all the boy has is his own body, back to what would surely kill him.

Sokka grabs the fire, twisting it away and towards no one. It turns blood-red at his touch, and he knows that’s from the anger burning through his veins. The Fire Nation leader stares, and so he rushes in that moment, takes his club, and hits the man across the head as hard as his muscles let him.

The crack is loud, but the ship is louder. The leader bleeds, staggering and running aside, away, eyes wide with fear even as pain tries to close them.

The Fire Nation is shoved off to the side. The earthbenders are freed.

Sokka waits for them to load the barges, get ready, and pulls Katara, Aang, and Haru to Appa. They bring along someone called Tyro, Haru’s father, apparently. Grey with elderly nature, but moving like he’s anything but one. Stupid, maybe, but definitely able to be smart if he has someone to yell at him.

That must be Sanae’s job.

~

She cries when she sees them. He understands, and the others, too, so they all move to reload the supplies. There’s more than they put down, but the fact that they purposefully made their pile separate and obvious means that the extra is just as purposeful. Gratitude, maybe. Sokka might do the same if someone broug-

Nope. Focus.

He waits for them to finish loading, then directs the kids to say their goodbyes. While they both flock to Haru, he moves to the parents.

“Thank you, Sanae,” he gives, offering his arm to clasp hers. “It’s appreciated more than you could know.”

“I know the raids took much from your people. This is the least I can do for you facing the same people to get my own back.”

He dips his head to her, and pulls away to offer his arm to Tyro. The man takes it, and then uses that to pull him into a hug a moment later. Despite being thin and grey, the strength of a fat- of a stone is in the grip. He accepts, because he can’t bring himself to not accept, and it pushes something that had been out of place back into alignment.

“Thank you, Sokka of the South. You gave us no choice, even when you did, and for that, we owe you and your siblings an unpayable debt.”

The choice of fighting for freedom or watching a trio of children die doing it for them. No honorable adult allows kids to die, let alone fighting another’s fight.

“You have honor. There was only a matter of you remembering.”

He pulls away slowly, and dips his head again to the other parent. Haru is in good hands, then. Some of the best, it seems, now that the two are together.

“Stay hidden until the others arrive. Give the old guy who turned Haru in the worst time, will’ya?”

“Of course, friend.” A hand claps on his shoulder and then the bender retreats into the house. Sanae remains.

She looks thin with worry, but seems to have managed to take care of herself in the day or so they were gone. Her eyes are darkened with the shadows of insomnia, and her hair is pulled back as though she couldn’t bring herself to care for it.

When she speaks, her voice is low, and her eyes are on Haru and Katara and Aang. Kind, curious, concerned.

“You have a lot of weight for someone so young. If you need anything, find someone to ask. Haru tried to take more without his father, and it would’ve broken my boy. I don’t think you can afford to break with them.”

He can’t. But currently? No one can help him.

No one is trustworthy. No one is safe. No one is stable. They have no one but each other.

He does his best to do one of those bows Aang taught him, even as he’s sure he’s messing it up somehow, and waves a hand as he hurries over to the saddle. Shortly after, Katara and Aang load in, smiling. Their goodbyes weren’t as serious, it seems. Good.

Haru’s a good kid. He deserves the best as much as the tribe. As much as any kid, really.

“Yip-yip!”

Appa takes to the skies.

~

“Katara?”

His sister doesn’t hear him. He understands as much as he can.

She’s lost her necklace. The one that passes through the girls, just like the one Sokka wears, which passes through the boys. Sea-silk and blue jade, Gran-Gran’s given to the daughter she’d gained, passed to Katara when the little girl who used to clutch to coats wanted to look just like Kya and Kanna and all those who came before.

She’s lost her sign. The visual symbol of their people. The way she can reach up and remember that she has generations behind her, guiding and teaching and protecting.

“Want mine? I can go without until it finds us again.” He’ll pray and pray and argue with anyone who dares oppose it, because she needs that necklace as much as he needs his.

She finally hears him, and her face tries for a smile that doesn’t make it. 

“I’d remember more if I always saw you without. I can wait.”

“You’ll be praying, then? You said you trust the Spirits a lot. Should I pray, too?”

“Only if you believe, Aang. Without belief, it does nothing but make us feel better.”

“I believe! I got lots of faith in the Spirits! I’m part one, remember?”

They start laughing, and Sokka thanks every Spirit that they found Aang, that the first time she lost the memory of their mother she had someone who can smile so easily. Aang is as good for them as they are for him. Well, he’s as good for their morale as they are good for his survival, which isn’t all that equal, but what is equal? Not much, really.

He focuses on steering them. That’s all he has to do right now. Steer and get them to somewhere safe.

Then they can mourn.

Then they can pray.

~

He can’t keep up.

He’s on the boat-

He’s in the saddle-

He’s with the serpent-

Coast, wood statue, stone statue, Aang and Momo-

Black halls and fire burning on the walls. He runs and runs and it takes longer, but then he sees the serpent.

White and red, twisting like the coils of a serpent, yes, but he’s more and more sure that it’s anything but. The whiskers reach out, and he remembers the Unagi, the paint. They’re soft when they touch, and yet all they do is hold his head as though to see him better.

Spirit-

North-

Places and places and places-

He gets up. The face and the scream are not as jarring, even if they always make his heart pound and his blood rush. No, he’s worried now.

Before they left… before Aang and the Fire Prince and the Earth Kingdom and strange things, new things, before he went where he knows nothing and has to learn everything-

The dreams weren’t this common, were they?

No. No, they weren’t. He remembers them, sure, but he has only a few dozen over his decade and some of life. How could he have had them as often if he only has so many? No, they’re getting worse. Common. That’s not good.

And if this one sped up so it could focus on one thing, that is a sign.

Signs aren’t always bad. They’re also not always good. He hopes this one is good.

Aang has gone through their stuff.

Not the way Sokka does, where he memorizes exactly how much of everything they have. Not the way Katara does, where she doesn’t remember where something is and searches until she finds it.

He has decided to snoop.

Now, Sokka normally would be entirely fine with that. There’s nothing he has that is embarrassing, except maybe his Marks. But even those aren’t that bad, just something he never wanted to begin with.

Aang, however, has managed to find something that makes Sokka suspicious. Specifically, he sees Aang notice something, push it further down once the boy’s mentally confirmed what he was seeing, and head right over to Katara to start whispering with her.

And it’s Sokka’s bag that was checked.

He’s too prideful to go look, he’ll admit to that. Instead, he glares at the two, trying to catch their eyes when they glance over at him. Katara is a master, and Aang does better than he would’ve expected. He really wants to know, but he refuses to give in to the two menaces he now has to live with.

Well, he always has lived with Katara, but he also prefers spending time hunting and gathering than doing nothing at home.

Focus. Be suspicious of the kids.

“Hey, Sokka, Katara and I were wondering if you know what I could eat in the South Pole? I mean, we all know I can eat anything, but if we had options, what would those be?”

He stares for a long moment at the too-wide smiles in front of him.

“Well, forgetting that you two have decided to keep secrets already, I can think of a few options. You don’t eat anything that hurts things, right?” Aang nods. “So that doesn’t include eggs or milk, and if we had the people for it, those would be pretty good options. Seaweed, berries, maybe tea if you like the taste of medicine.”

“Oh yeah! You gave me some berries when we first left!” Aang pauses, and his face goes blank. “How common are those?”

Both siblings look away. Katara starts whistling a tune into the wind, idly tapping her fingers on the edge of the saddle.

“Guys! The exception is when you have to go out of your way!”

“Okay, but have you considered-”

“No!”

“No, really, have you considered that I wanted to give you the berries?” Sokka gives his own crooked smile. Aang doesn’t let up on his indignation.

“Did you have to go out of your way to get them?”

“Technically, he just went to the stores and took a bit out for you.”

There’s a moment of silence.

Then Aang humphs, stands up, moves to sit at the reins, and stares grumpily out ahead of them. The siblings share amused looks behind his back. Sokka would do it again.

And, of course, Aang only lasts about five minutes before he has another question. Well, he twists and glances back and then straightens like he didn’t. And then he asks, entire posture trying for casual and hitting closer to being unable to contain curiosity.

“So… you said that Sokka’s the only Warrior of Tradition, right?”

“That’s right,” Katara confirms, eyes narrowing. “What about it?”

“Well, what about the others? I mean, I know how babies are made, but I didn’t see any men besides the old ones. Aren’t those guys counted?”

Sokka waves off the glance Katara sends his way. It’s approaching five years now, and he has long since accepted the truth. She doesn’t have to like it for it to be true.

“Four years ago, my father and the other men went to fight in the war. They did not know if they would ever make it back, and when that would be if it happened. Because of that, they did what our people always do for that: they split into a warrior tribe.”

“Warrior tribe? Like they’re just warriors?”

“It’s called that because it’s when a group of warriors go to fight and a lot about their lives is uncertain, from when they return to if they will at all. If it took decades, then they would change, and they would develop their own leaders. Instead of having the chiefs in conflict, the warriors are merely a separate tribe. They can return, but that won’t happen until they’re done fighting.”

“So you don’t count them because they aren’t your tribe anymore.” Aang says it very sadly, and Sokka wishes the kid didn’t understand. He remembers being that sad, thinking about how his family, his own father, might never be a member of the tribe again.

“Yeah, that’s about it. Got a less depressing question?”

“Uhhhh… Oh!” Aang slaps his knee. “You’ve been pining for Suki, so show us the stuff you got from her! Y’know, the new outfit and all that.”

He glares.

“Ha-ha. Yeah, I’ve thought about her a few times, it happens.”

“You can’t call it thinking when you’re so far gone you don’t even hear me yelling at you,” Katara says smugly, setting her chin in her hand. “I think Aang’s right about calling it ‘pining’.”

“I’m going to show you the stuff now, okay? Stop talking!” He rummages in the bags, feeling heat flaring in his face and neck. He tries to calm his heart so it fades and the blood stops rushing around like it’s excited to even hear Suki’s name.

He pulls out the items one by one, placing them to his left and talking as he does.

“Brushes for paint because they make much thinner ones than we do. This is called a kimono, and this is a hakama. Then you got the obi, which goes over them. The armor is called hara-ate dō, the main bit, and han kote, the arm bits. You got the head thing, which is a hachigane, and Suki’s is called something different because she’s the leader. The weapons are katana for the sword and tessen for the fans, and they’re called tessen as a pair, not separately.”

“What’s the material?”

“She said iron, but it doesn’t look the same. I think they hot-forged it instead of how we cold-forge. The katana is apparently steel, which is where they burn stuff with the iron to get a new thing. I don’t understand it, but it worked during training.”

“And the clothes?”

“Different fibers. Some are animal, but they also have a lot of plant ones. Apparently, they harvest the plants, then peel back the outer layers to get the softer stuff from inside to use for clothes.”

“Really? Aang, is that what your clothes are made of?”

“Appa’s fur.”

Katara blinks at him.

“That makes sense. What else?” She turns back to Sokka, and he frowns. He doesn’t have anything else to show that’s an item, but he has some katas he could demonstrate.

“What about katas? I can show you guys the ones I learned. Aang needs to learn our old ones better, anyways.”

“Okay!” Aang blinks in surprise when Sokka gestures for the others to stand, too. “Oh, you mean right now?”

“Well, how confident are you that you can stop us from falling if we trip or the wind blows too hard?”

“Pretty confident?”

“We’ll work on that, but if there’s little risk because you’re here, the wind is good for training. It pushes against you and moves which direction it comes from, so it gets much easier to practice balance and build your strength. You might be strong, but I don’t think you’re up to the tribe’s usual standards.”

“He means that you’re strong enough to carry things but maybe not strong enough for our techniques.”

“Huh.” Aang smiles brightly. “Okay! I’m ready to learn! Uh, how strong do I have to be?”

“Can you carry an owl-wolf on your own?” Sokka immediately asks. Aang tilts his head in confusion, so he revises. “How many Kataras can you carry?”

Aang, predictably, moves to test how heavy Katara is. He frowns as he holds her up, and she presses a hand against her mouth to avoid laughing at the boy.

“Uh, two, three if I’m in danger.”

“Then you can lift an owl-wolf. You want to be able to lift about three times that, but you didn’t grow up like we did, so don’t expect to just get there in a month. Katara can lift that, and most of our kids are well on their ways to that, but most of the tribe reaches that sometime around becoming adults.”

“He means that you might struggle more than I will but you have plenty of time before the tribe would expect you to have that sort of strength. Plus, you have a good start.”

“Do you weigh as much as an owl-wolf?” Aang asks, gaze moving over the waterbender like it might reveal previously unknown facts.

“Roughly, maybe a bit more or less. It depends on the owl-wolf, and if I’ve eaten recently. I’m a pretty good reference, though, especially when we don’t have an owl-wolf.”

“Well, let’s get started, I guess. I want to be strong enough to lift three owl-wolves!”

Sokka doesn’t correct the airbender. As Katara said, there’s not exactly examples of what they normally hunt close by. Instead, he settles into the beginning stance that Suki taught him.

“Ready?” Both nod, mimicking his pose. “Good. Now watch closely.”

~

He regrets it. He regrets it so much. Why did he teach them how to train? Why did he have reasons for doing it during the ride?

“C’mon, Sokka! Stop being a lazy-bones and practice with us!”

“You’ll have more room if I don’t.” Aang pouts. It’s very unfair, because the kid is small and small things have a natural edge.

“But we should do it as a group! We did it yesterday, and we meditate together, too! C’mon, you gotta join us!”

He sighs very deeply and with the most tired feel to it he can manage. He gets hit on the shoulder by his sister, and elbows her side in retaliation.

“Fine, fine. I’ll practice with you, but once we stop for lunch, I’m sitting back down to rest.”

Aang’s head really is gonna fall off one of these days with how hard he nods sometimes.

They practice, and Sokka does his best to help correct stances. He didn’t exactly have a huge amount of time training with the Kyoshi Warriors, but he definitely knows how to not fall over in wind. Usually it’s not also while being so far off the ground that the way to survive is to not fall at all, but he can manage.

He really does need to rest, though. He’s been hearing voices all day, since he started meditating at sunrise. At first, he thought he heard Agni, but if he did, it was only very very briefly. Within a few minutes, he had a chorus of voices, far and near, whispering and shouting and saying all sorts of things.

He knows Spirits talk to him. Snow and ice and winds all have Spirits. He heard them when he got his fire, he heard them his first hunt, and he’s heard them every hunt since. He’s used to it.

He’s not used to them being so excited that someone can hear them that he can barely keep himself focused on his surroundings. He can barely hear Katara! Maybe it’s just because they aren’t from the South, and therefore they’ve never known someone like him. They don’t know to be quiet enough for him to hear, and they’re also much louder at their quietest than the South’s Spirits are at their loudest.

That’s probably because being loud can kill, and even Spirits understand that.

“Sokka?”

He blinks. He’s still in the middle of the motions, but the other two aren’t.

“Oh. Lost myself again, didn’t I?”

“Why don’t you rest now? Aang and I would rather you wait a day to join us than get sick because you didn’t take some time for yourself.”

He gives her a small smile, because she knows him well. He follows his smile with a thumbs-up, moving to lean against the edge of the saddle. His eyes close almost immediately, reducing how much he’s getting from the world.

It means he focuses on the Winds that are swirling and laughing and crying and angry. And the Clouds, humming low and constant. Whatever. He can just listen until it fades into the back of his mind and then he’ll be back to normal.

~

He gets up when they land, stretching and helping arrange some brush near the treeline so Appa can rest there without being spotted. He didn’t come up with that plan, for once. Instead, his sister immediately had pointed out a spot that they could hide the bison while they walk to the city.

Said city is amazing.

Buildings rise in circles around a central point, like a mountain instead of a settlement. The homes are stacked atop each other, tones of brown and grey, all pressing together as though they learned to weave earth. From afar, it seems as though none of it is wood or cloth or flammable in any way.  A good defense that lends itself to the sight.

“Wow. This is… something else,” Sokka comments, unable to come up with anything better. Katara seems to feel the same, the inability to describe what they’re seeing and how they feel about it. Good, sure, but also more of something odd.

“We definitely aren’t near the South Pole anymore.”

“This is the city of Omashu! My friend Bumi lived here. C’mon!”

“Aang, wait! We can’t let anyone know you’re the Avatar yet!”

Both boys turn to look at her. Sokka is very glad his sister finally learned subtlety, and rather proud to pair. Their airbender, however, is just confused.

“Why?”

“Because if word gets out before we’re going to leave, the Fire Nation might be here too soon. Plus, we don’t know how many people will actually want the Avatar to be back or might decide to try to use you. It’s best if we just go in quietly.”

“Okay, those are some good reasons. But how am I supposed to hide? I can’t exactly just grow a mustache.”

Sokka immediately has an idea to help Aang suddenly grow a mustache. Well, make a fake one, but it counts!

And it works! A bit! The kid is still short, but he looks like he’s short because his bones have settled, not because he’s twelve. An improvement. A change. A slight adjustment.

“Ugh,” Aang groans the moment the siblings move away. “This is so itchy.” He turns to Appa, scratching under the false hair. “How do you live in this stuff?” Appa just groans back.

Before the boy manages to turn around, Sokka exchanges a look with his sister. They need to push him to ignore any discomfort. Make it fun, just like the kids back home. Everyone likes to do fun things.

“Great! Now you look just like my grandfather.”

“Technically,” Katara starts, looking like she’s only barely turned her smirk into a smile, “Aang is a hundred twelve years old.”

He barely resists reacting to her clear provocation. Technically, it really depends on if someone counts age as time from birth or time lived. If it’s time from birth, sure, Aang’s old, but if it’s-

“Now let's get to skippin', young whipper-snappers. The big city awaits!” He blinks back into focus to find that Aang is now acting like an actual Elder. The glider being a support seems reasonable, but the energy feels much younger.

“Aang, try to avoid sounding like you want to explore.”

“What’s he supposed to sound like? He wants to explore!”

“I’m just saying he can pretend he’s just loud or something, because otherwise they won’t believe he’s an Elder.”

They bicker the whole way to the city, stopping only when Aang knocks their legs with his stick to pull their attention back. He grins under the mustache, nodding his head towards the settlement that now looks much bigger than it did from far away. Sokka’s usually good at that sort of guesswork, too. Maybe it’s the height?

“You guys are going to love Omashu. The people here are the friendliest in the world.”

It’s rather funny that Aang says that.

Mostly because a cabbage merchant doesn’t seem to think so. Sokka knows the merchant sells cabbages because the man shouts about it as the cart goes into the crevasse.

“Just keep smiling,” Aang says through his teeth. Sokka rolls his eyes, because he’ll be found out in a second if he smiles. His sister smiles, but she also smiles way more than he does. Katara always smiles more. He has no idea how she can manage it.

He doesn’t know why the guards are so aggressive, but he really wants to hit them. He won’t, because Katara grabs his arm, even if it should be allowed just because who the hell puts a boulder over someone’s head for a simple task? What, gonna kill an Elder? Why not just scream like you’re being murdered so their heart beats too fast trying to help?

“State your business!”

“My business is my business, young man,” the boulder immediately drops where Aang had stood, though the boy is now right in the guy’s face, “and none of yours! I've got half a mind to bend you over my knee and paddle your backside!”

He is very proud. Oh, Aang is so getting whatever he wants to buy in the market. One thing, not more, but still something. Sokka has to bite his tongue just to avoid laughing, and Katara isn’t much better. Gran-Gran would’ve said worse, but for a kid monk? Who also has an oath to not use Gran-Gran’s words? Amazing. Wonderful work. Absolutely marvelous.

“Settle down, old timer! Just tell me who you are.” The guards are all now looking sheepish, hands well away from their weapons and visible. The leader of the three is using a calm tone, as one might to placate an offended Elder.

“Name's Bonzu Pippinpaddleopsicopolis, the Third,” oh, fucking Spirits, “and these are my grandkids.” Damn everything. Aang!

He listens very carefully when his sister says the name again, committing it to memory this time.

“Hi. June Pippinpaddleopsicopolis. Nice to meet you.” He steps forward, one hand on his sister’s shoulder and one grabbing Aang’s bag as though holding the other up.

“Heng Pippinpaddleopsicopolis.” He stares down the guard as the man apparently waits for more. It takes a moment for the guy to catch on, and that is, of course, when Sokka finally finishes. “Gramps is nearly harmless.”

“Nearly?”

“You watch yourself, boy. I know you’ve been seeing a girl my son doesn’t know. I’ll tell him for you.” Sokka glares at Aang, fully trying to use it to stop the laughter trying to rip its way out of his throat.

“Gran-Gran said I had to come so you actually relax. She said nothing about playing nice.”

“That’s my boy!”

“Well, you seem a lively enough bunch. Try to avoid trouble. And good luck with that relaxing, kid.”

Sokka nods, maintaining his grip on his siblings until they’re through the gate fully. Only then does he let go.

Katara grabs on immediately after so she won’t fall over from laughter.

“Really, Aang? How did you learn to act like an Elder that well?”

“Well, Gyatso raised me, so I had a really good perspective on what old people are like. I don’t think any of them would appreciate someone getting aggressive for no reason.”

“Yeah, I wanted to punch him. Proud of you, though.” Aang beams, clearly just as proud of himself as they are.

“We should do it every time we need to pretend I’m not me!”

“Ehhh.” Sokka waves a hand, because that’s not a very good idea.

“Maybe every other time. If we always do it, then someone might start to look for us as the Pippinpaddleopsicopolis family. Definitely again, though,” Katara finishes, hooking an arm around Aang’s shoulders.

“Every other, then. Now, c’mon! We got sights to see!”

~

He will tell everyone who ever asks that he did, in fact, suggest not doing this. He cannot be held accountable for what Aang decides to do, nor what Katara goes along with. He couldn’t even keep Aang from bringing Momo into the city! How was he ever supposed to stop this?

“If anyone asks you, I took a while to convince.”

“Don’t worry!” Aang reassures as he pushes the warrior onto the cart. “If it means we get to do stuff like this, I think we can lie to other people for you.”

“Great. One ride.”

One ride on a system built to allow gravity to do the work to deliver any item needed. Even the issue of how steep the city is being the only reason to need the system isn’t that big. Tactical advantage on many fronts, if anyone even gets past the gates.

Oh, and technically a very dangerous system if one rides it. They have an airbender. It’ll be fine.

“One ride. Then we're off to the North Pole. Airbender's honor.”

Katara doesn’t speak, but he thinks that’s because she’s focusing on making sure that everyone’s holding on tightly and she’s in the middle. He always forgets she’s not as used to the fear of death. She can fight, sure, but there’s a big difference between being capable and being used to the speed that blood can move through one’s body.

He barely even has any rush at the sight of the heights. Honestly, they’ve been riding Appa too much. A good amount of fear of death prevents death, after all.

The cart suddenly tips down the chute.

There’s the fear.

For a moment, they move so fast that nothing else matters. They go down, then turn, the-

Then there’s another cart that’s also full of very sharp objects about to collide with them.

And then almost hit a different one but don’t because some guy does his job well and trained his reflexes.

They do crash into a cart, and fly into the air, and Aang catches them all on the way back down. Across the roofs, through something that shatters and then acquiring a cat.

And then straight fucking down.

Onto the poor cabbage merchant’s cart.

“MY CABBAGES!”

“Hold on, let us get up. I got- whoo, I have something. It’ll help, promise.” Sokka brushes the dust off his siblings, helping them up from the ruins of the delivery system cart crashed into the wooden merchant one. Katara shakes her head, trying to clear it, but seems okay. Aang is, of course, entirely okay, bouncing, as though he wants to go again.

One more check. He feels the back of their heads, mostly his sister since her hair might hide things. Joints, arms, legs. All fine, nothing broken, which is very lucky.

Okay. Merchant lost his supplies to sell. Uh… The cold one is worth more. Silver.

He pulls one silver out, hoping that it’ll be enough to at least appease the stranger. They can’t exactly afford to give any more when they need to buy food, but it’s something.

“Here. Not much, but it’s something, right?”

The merchant stares. Takes the coin. And walks away.

“Okay, I think that worked. Wonderful.” He turns to meet the guards that have come running to investigate. “Sorry about that. We timed the ride wrong and almost got stabbed, and it went downhill from there.”

Katara elbows him - rather lightly; she must be worried he’s hurt - and he elbows her back. The pun is greatly intended.

~

If someone had known to warn him about the sheer amount of Spirits present in the king’s room, that would’ve been amazing. Unfortunately, they didn’t know. No one knows. He thinks he might’ve even forgotten to ever tell Katara about it. He never forgets to tell her things that she never wanted to know but is happy to know anyways.

Do not worry! No worrying! Child, he is good!

The Child never worries! Happy Child!

They say he always worries. Worrying and worrying.

He doesn’t know how to feel about the Ice and Snows and Winds and Storms from back home spreading word about him. That lot sees him very differently than he does. Hopefully, they don’t exaggerate about him.

“Your majesty, these juveniles were arrested for vandalism and traveling under false pretenses.”

Lots of words for no reason. Why not just say they’ve been causing trouble and lied about who they were? It’s still true, because they ruined a few of the fancy roofs and very much are not the Pippinpaddleopsicopolis family, but doesn’t try to sound important. After all, the guards were the ones who got lied to by children and believed it.

Katara and Aang both glance back at him, clearly curious about why he’s unbothered. He doesn’t exactly have a way to communicate that there are Stones all around him that want to say how great this king is. Is it normal to have Elders as leaders? First Kyoshi Island and now Omashu.

Good man. The king is kind.

A bit odd, a bit weird.

All good kings are weird. He’s a good king. Do not worry, Child. He means no harm to you.

Others, others! No harm to the others! The king will not hurt the others!

“Throw them…” Sokka raises a brow at the words, because he has a very good idea that ‘weird’ means ‘crazy’, “a feast!”

Yep, there it is.

And, for some reason - maybe the difference between kings and chiefs - people actually set up a table, bring food, and put enough chairs for the trio. The king’s weird big chair is at the other side, which is very weird, but okay.

Stay , Sokka whistles, and the other two listen. There’s food everywhere, but it’s not at all set up properly.

He starts moving dishes, and Katara moves to help when she picks up on his reasoning. Food that Aang eats on one side, food that he doesn’t on the other. Aang, at least, helps once he sees the pattern, even relocating some food that the other two had placed with caution in mind. Only when all the dishes are arranged neatly and Aang gives a nod of approval does Sokka gesture for them to take seats. Herbivore monk one side, meat-loving hunter on the other, Katara between because she eats a bit of everything.

Wait. Aang does, confused when Katara doesn’t, but that isn’t too important to explain right now. They can explain later. Katara takes Aang’s food, Sokka the other ones, and they take the pieces that don’t smell strongly to test for poisonous bits. There doesn’t seem to be any, but always better to check than eat a plant and end up poisoned or eat some meat that’s horribly sick.

Sokka waits for Katara to give him a confirming nod, then gives his brother a nod to make it clearer. The food is safe and sorted by who needs what. Properly set up, instead of the weird way that the people had put the dishes out to begin with.

The king, having stood nearby the whole time, comes closer, standing behind their chairs and watching them start to eat. Observing the pattern, probably. Doesn’t matter much.

“What an organized little team you are. And rather suspicious, too. Omashu isn’t a city for subtlety, you know.”

Sokka doesn’t like the way the Elder is so close. He doesn’t know why, since every Spirit is being very loud and nothing bad has happened besides them being here to start with. Still…

He glares at the king for a moment, looks away so he can roll his eyes, and picks the least fancy looking food to try. He really doesn’t understand the complexity of food in the Earth Kingdom. Kyoshi Island isn’t usually so complicated, they just did it for Aang. Omashu, or at least its king, seems very keen on making simple things very not simple.

“The people in my city have gotten fat from too many feasts, so I hope you like your chicken with no skin.” Sokka snatches the stick away from Aang’s face, and turns his glare on the guard that moves forward.

He thinks he might just be getting angry because he’s getting a headache from all the Spirits. They need to shut up, but the guard also should know that Aang was uncomfortable with meat shoved into his face and that the trio sticks together.

“I don’t eat meat. That’s why, uh, he did all that,” Aang gestures at the arranged food, and Katara snorts at how uncertain the boy sounds. Honestly, the only reason she didn’t start before Sokka is that she’s got better self-control about this stuff.

“Ah, that does make sense. Not a usual diet for children, though. I believe it’s usually the other way around.”

“Clearly haven’t been out of the city,” Sokka mutters, getting elbowed for it. Worth it.

The king walks away - finally - and sits in his own chair, grabbing another chicken stick. Honestly, how are they preparing their meat? It shouldn’t look like one of those water plants that apparently are meant to seem edible but explode when it rains - or, according to Aang, if you put them in your mouth. Regardless, chickens are meant to be in stews, unless they’re flammable or some weird shit like that.

Katara gives him a look before she leans over to murmur something to Aang, which means he’s meant to behave. He does not want to behave. He is getting a headache from how many Spirits are telling him that the king is good and he shouldn’t worry. He doesn’t need his sister adding to it.

“So tell me, young bald one, where are you from?”

“I'm from ... Kangaroo Island!” Okay, not the best lie, but at least he lied.

“Oh, Kangaroo Island, eh? I hear that place is really hopping!”

Fuck. Sokka snorts at the joke, and swallows the humor immediately after. Just because he likes puns does not mean that he will indulge another silly Elder who he just wants to punc- to ignore until they go away.

Katara gives him another look, though it’s more exasperated than anything, even a bit amused. She knows how many times he came back from those old group hunts and had a new arsenal of puns because of the competitions they did to pass time. If anything, she’s probably happy he’s not entirely about to throttle someone.

Their airbender just looks confused. Aang really needs to have a moment alone with one of the siblings, so they can explain some of the things that they have obviously forgotten to tell him.

“Well, all these good jokes are making me tired. Guess it's time to hit the hay,” the king says with a yawn so fake that even Katara has tensed up.

Something shoots towards Aang, who reacts quickly enough that he’ll catch it. Immediately, Sokka draws his club and lunges at the nearest guard. One hit and the man drops like a rock.

“Sokka!”

Oh, she is not going to yell at him for this!

“They struck first! If Aang wasn’t an airbender, that would’ve impaled his eye!” Or throat. Something very needed would have been injured, and the younger boy has nearly fallen out of his chair catching the stick. If there is a time to fight, it’s when they are attacked by a fucking Elder.

He still gets scuffed on the head by his sister. And she takes his club! They’re going to die and it’ll be her fault.

~

They don’t die, but they do get locked up. He is also very upset that Katara made him let the stupid guards take his weapons. Well, they didn’t take his boomerang, but that’s more due to how even Katara isn’t stupid enough to tell him to give it up. No one touches Boomerang.

“Sokka, are you okay?”

Is he okay? Really? He gives up his gear, the group is locked in a room that only opens for earthbending when they don’t have an earthbender, and the Spirits are very loud trying to justify the stupid crazy king being stupid and crazy.

“What d’you think?”

“Is it a headache?”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Sokka!”

He doesn’t answer, instead turning his back on her and picking a part of the room to sit in. Away from his siblings, away from where the door was, and away from having to deal with anything and anyone.

He postures! It’s fake, fake!

Everything is going to end well! We promise, Child.

Besides the fucking Spirits. They need to shut up.

He is getting a headache, and he is well and truly aware that he doesn’t handle headaches well. Or he rather doesn’t handle people well when he has a headache. It’s fine when he’s hunting, because he can push through and just kill what he has to, but it’s very frowned upon to kill people.

He doesn’t know what the others decide to do, since he’s barely able to prevent himself from trying to light his head on fire just to get the pounding noise drowned out. Instead, he meditates.

Meditation does nothing.

He tries to sleep. He cannot.

He tries to rest. He wants to move immediately, and starts pacing the room best he can.

The circling gets to him very quickly. He doesn’t circle outside hunting, and all he can do is circle. All he can do is push himself further into exactly the reason Katara took his club to begin with.

He could’ve fought them out. He can fight! He even has new styles that actually work on earth. She shouldn’t have told him to not fight!

Sleep, Child. It’s safe here.

What did they say? They told us.

He growls. The noise is forming a second heartbeat in his head, pulsing with pain each second.

The wall is smooth, smoother than ice. There’s no way out without earthbending, and the only reason that’s stopping them is because Aang had to fucking live!

He glances only a second to make sure that the airbender is fully asleep before launching yellow fire at the place they’d been shoved through. The stone turns dark, but doesn’t melt. He wants it to just melt already!

A chitter breaks him out of his trance. He feels little claws on his side, and suddenly Momo is leaning into his space, ears out to the sides in curiosity. Right. Aang brought Momo in the fake hair.

“Hey, promise you won’t tell Aang? I’ll give you something for it.”

The lemur chitters again, and reaches one hand out like trying to grab something. He nods, pulling out one of his latest carvings. It’s small, barely bigger than the tip of his finger, but he wanted to practice his precision. The flower carved into it isn’t the best, either.

Momo still grabs the little thing, clutching it in one hand and using the other to help with climbing back down. At least someone is willing to just accept that there are ways that things are done and there are things that happen in certain ways.

~

He’s surprised when the guards come back.

The door had been put back without noise, so he’d realized a few seconds after they’d entered. If that was it, he’d be fine.

Instead, he’s very abruptly shoved through the opening, which closes behind him. It locks the ones who shoved him in, but even missing two, there’s three that converge on him immediately.

He manages to get a few good knocks in, but he’s surrounded and in pain. His head pounds so hard from all the shouting that he can’t see properly, vision struggling to make out the shapes of his attackers. One grabs his arm, and he can’t twist out of it fast enough when moving pushes on his throat, making it hard to breathe without coughing up bile.

He’s taken to the ground.

Even with how loud the Spirits are, with the noise of movement and commands and talking and heavy steps, he can tell the guards know something’s wrong. Something is wrong. He can’t breathe right.

He can’t see. He can’t hear anything but a rush that means nothing.

If he was on a hunt right now, he’d be easy prey.

He’s pulled up, hands bound in front where they’re visible to the guards. Someone comes on either side, and he tries to lurch away from at least one. It works, but he would bite them if he could figure out where his teeth are for that pity alone.

At some point, the pitch that he knows better than any other adds to the overwhelming noise. Katara. They’re taking the siblings, probably for leverage. He will not be used for leverage.

They’re brought somewhere where the noise echoes, and he’s suddenly glad that at least the voices of the Stones don’t echo. Katara is talking, probably asking questions, if he could make out what she’s saying more than just hearing it. The person holding him up pushes his shoulder until he hits a wall, clearly telling him to stand still for a moment.

He immediately tries to walk straight forwards, because the guard is likely going to the side of him. Katara’s voice gets much louder, and he pauses. One of his feet is in the air, body midstep.

He moves that foot down toes first, as though tapping repeatedly against the air. It goes down to where it should’ve landed on the ground just in front of the other one.

There’s nothing there.

At least that explains the horrific echo that makes him want to tear his ears off. Though when Katara’s voice had raised, the Spirits had gone oddly quiet. Maybe they finally realized he can’t fucking stand that much noise.

He moves back a few steps, and starts moving towards where Katara’s voice is coming from. She keeps talking, giving him a direction, and grabs his hands when he’s close enough. One of her hands touches to his forehead, and he wonders how bad it is when the pain isn’t from mortal things.

She pulls him back over to a wall, and he thinks she’s talking to the Omashu soldiers, letting them know what she knows. Not much, but definitely more than the idiots that live in this city.

Sorry, Child.

Don’t worry about them. There is no harm.

False worry, false fear. Don’t worry, Child.

He growls and shoves his face into where he’s guessing his sister’s shoulder is. The voices get quieter, and he breathes deep, trying to chase the pain away.

It takes a long time and some water from Katara that tastes like medicine, but he gets his senses back. Hearing comes first, then vision, then his awareness of where his limbs are. She’s standing there, frowning, and there’s guards talking amongst themselves and clearly discussing what comes next. But the Spirits have stopped, whatever she gave him worked, and now he’s coming back to himself.

“Willow?” She nods. Willow powder is hard to come by out here. Still, he’s okay with it being used on him in this sort of moment. He’s not much use without his senses. “What’d I miss?”

“We’re in a cavern, and there’s a waterfall somewhere close. You know they’ll use us against Aang. They have some weird rocks in the corner that seem too flexible.”

“Planning to use that, maybe? Some sort of restraint. I hit a few of them when they first pulled me out.”

“What’s wrong, Sokka? You’re not just grumpy.”

“I’m hearing things. I might’ve forgotten to tell you, but now’s not the time. It’s loud, and it hurt, but I’ll be fine. Just keep your head loose and don’t stare.” She nods, frown fading a little at his instructions. If there’s one thing that’s normal, it’s him trying to keep them in the best position they can be in.

Even if he’s about ten seconds away from seeing how deep the cavern is.

~

Aang looks very worried when they’re forced into the open, every Omashu jerk ready to use the siblings as bait. He nearly laughs at the airbender, or at the presumption of the guards, because the little pieces of rock they have are very flexible. The chipping-into-rings proved that.

So, with a single glance at Katara to make sure she’s guessed the same, he does what makes sense: get rid of the rings right away.

Now, they both know there’s a lot of things that don’t make sense about them. Aang has made some things very clear, like how most people think grass is normal and items are only going to last a few years. Most things in the tribe last at least a decade, so that one was very worrying.

They both are immediately made aware of one more reason they aren’t meant to live amongst warm-air folks. When they get rid of the rings, everyone stares or gasps or gapes.

“What, did you think we didn’t notice how flexible it is?”

“Teeth, Katara. They don’t use their teeth.” It’s not weird to break something; that means the way they did it is what’s weird.

“What do they use, their hands?” She waves her bound hands to demonstrate how silly that is. He agrees, but he also frowns as the Spirits start laughing. It’s loud. He doesn’t think he can handle loud.

Katara sighs, shoves the earthbender beside her to be further away, and shouts down to Aang.

“You do the tests, I’ll handle the guards. Might as well figure out what they’re on about.”

“You sure?”

“They took Boomerang from Sokka.”

“What?” He doesn’t intend to break the ropes, but the things are very thin and he’s more focused on the empty Boomerang-holder. “AANG, BEAT THE FUCKING TASKS! I NEED TIME TO KILL SOME PEOPLE!”

“Don’t kill anyone!” Aang calls back, before turning to the king to say something. Sokka doesn’t pay attention, because he’s moving towards the way they came.

The soldier on him is pushing on his shoulders, posture screaming that he doesn’t want to be facing an angry kid. Sokka understands that, but doesn’t understand why the guy won’t let him murder whoever took his boomerang from him. No one takes his boomerang!

Katara, ever reasonable even when causing the most chaos of anyone he’s ever met, pulls on his arm so he moves back from the Omashu fools, before gesturing for the one on her to leave. Managing to find some intelligence, the man rushes off, obviously hoping to find Boomerang before Katara’s influence wears thin.

Sokka will be patient, but only so long as he’s willing to listen to Katara. Well, for things like this. He’s patient during hunts and things, but not for stupid social-based things. He doesn’t like people. People lie and take and hurt and he doesn’t want to figure out which ones do that to be predators and which ones are just people.

He likes his people, but not people in general. Kyoshi Island had a lot of good people, the Fire Prince is not entirely evil, and the guards at the gate of Omashu were decently reasonable. Those are people he didn’t have to guess about because he could just exist and they showed who they were. New people are a Katara thing. And maybe an Aang thing. Or maybe just a not-Sokka thing.

~

The fight ends, and Aang doesn’t know the name of the king. He starts putting it together, of course, and the siblings let him. The guess that he gives is that it’s Bumi, a hundred years older.

Sokka waits for the two old friends to join he and Katara, then punches the Elder in the face.

“That’s for messing with Aang. Don’t do it again.” Bumi laughs, and Aang seems to be debating between laughter and concern. Sokka rounds on Aang, pointing a finger in the boy’s face. “Never question why I fight again. If it wasn’t Bumi, you think we’d be safe right now?”

“Sokka, back off.”

He does, knocking his sister’s shoulder as he steps behind her. He’s not in as much pain, but it doesn’t mean the ache of old pain isn’t there. Until it’s gone, he will be as ‘grumpy’ as he pleases.

~

“Why did you guys eat the jennamite?”

“It was flexible enough to chip pretty easy, so we guessed it’s not the hardest material to crack open.” Katara doesn’t look over, trying to look busy in securing the supplies Bumi gave them. Not enough to last that long, but that’s more a lack of space in the saddle. It’s at least some apology from the Elder.

“Okay, but-”

“We eat bones. Not the outside, unless it’s in a pot, but we crack them and get the marrow so we don’t waste things. Means our teeth are stronger than yours. The candy stuff isn’t that strong, and if I had to make a weapon, I’d choose bone for durability over something that is just easier to bend into place.” Sokka also tries to look busy. Most of the odd things about the tribe’s ways aren’t as horror-inducing in Aang. Probably because people don’t like to think about how easy their bones are to break.

Aang is silent for long enough to guess he’s shaking himself out of that horror. Or maybe disgust. Regardless, he moves on to more of his held questions.

“What caused the headache? You started having it when we first were caught, so it couldn’t have been something to do with Bumi.”

“Too much was going on. I get headaches when that happens, and it’s usually not that bad, but there wasn’t anything I know besides you two. It’s just a matter of grounding myself, like anchoring yourself in a storm. Too much storm, not enough anchor.”

“Oh, like when you’re in a crowded market and everything gets really overwhelming all at once?”

Sokka leans back, staring off blankly.

“I am not looking forward to any of what you just said.”

“Yeah, it can get pretty bad. Speaking of,” Sokka throws a glance back at the very bad transition, “how did you know not to be scared? You fought the guards, but you didn’t seem concerned about how safe we were when we got brought in.”

“They were being stupid, not evil. There’s a difference.”

“Fire Nation versus Oyaji?”

“Who’s that?”

“Kyoshi Island’s governor.”

“Oh, yeah, that works. He wasn’t bad as much as he just got too excited about things and was acting like a fu-hmm, like a fool.”

The other two laugh at his slip and he puts his free hand under his leg so it doesn’t form a gesture he promised not to use. Jerks.

“Did you guys at least like the cart-ride?”

“Yeah, until things got complicated,” Katara answers immediately, patting her brother’s shoulder and moving to help Aang with securing a few items Bumi had snuck the airbender. “I mean, the height was a little intimidating, but the feeling’s right next to tosses, y’know?”

“What’s a toss?”

“Uh, tossing each other? We do it safely, but you get the same sort of feeling being in air for a few seconds that we had that whole ride down.”

“Can I try when we go back to the tribe?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not. It’s not something we do every day, but going home would definitely be a reason to celebrate.”

Sokka snorts. Aang won’t be able to make it a minute before everyone is demanding he join their team. Kid’s got good upper strength and a decent balance on ice, and is light as wind to pair.

“You’ll be with us, then. Gotta have five to do it right, more if you’re just having fun.”

“What other way do you toss each other?”

The siblings refrain from answering, mostly because the idea that Aang doesn’t understand the thought of making it a competition is rather funny. Very funny, actually.

“Fine! Keep your secrets! Momo and I are gonna sit in the back and have our own secret conversation!”

It lasts all of five seconds of Aang sitting in the back of the saddle, clutching Momo to his chest, before all three are laughing too hard to breathe right.

~

The cave looks the same. The serpent looks the same. He does not. He’s wearing the outfit of a warrior, of one of Kyoshi’s, and the paint is the last piece. He looks in the water, and there she is, standing behind him with the colors that mark her people.

The black rock flies, faster and faster and faster, a struggle getting worse with each second. The man in green is fighting, and the fire wants him to stop. The soldiers want to take more from the world.

Sokka moves to redirect the fire, and he sees, now, the kid, barely older than him, moving to block with his body. The face isn’t visible, but the movement is clear enough. Family doesn’t let family go down, and earth only knows how to stop fire with sheer stubbornness.

The Elder on the ground is scared. Sokka knows that he’s scared of him, and yet he’s standing with his back. The shadows are multiplying, jumping around, as if enraged or excited by his defiance. The shapes are people, but he can’t see anything more than the length of their claws and the movements of an ambush.

Black and white, thin and starving and roaring but not. The Spirit doesn’t flicker this time, and he feels an empty sadness, a grief that isn’t his.

The tree, the grass, the colors that don’t belong on the ice, lit in a red like blood. He turns even though he knows it won’t be good, that it’s just one more failu-

He gasps when he wakes this time, and swallows the rest. He doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that the dreams are easier to pick apart, to feel more and know what he doesn’t know yet but will. He doesn’t want to.

He shouldn’t sleep. He’ll meditate and pretend, for Aang’s sake, that he’s been sleeping the whole night. Keep watch more, maybe. He can carve some of those beads to practice, especially since the ones he had disappeared, and while he suspects Momo, his hands need to do something and his precision with carving isn’t as good as he wants, yet.

He can spin some of Appa’s fur, too. Keep it from leaving a trail to be followed. Do some katas based on what he’s observed the earthbenders and firebenders doing. Maybe even practice bending during the night, see how the steadiness of the earthbending stances affect his fire, or perfect the katas he and Katara have been working on most of their life.

Anything but sleep.

His arms hurt from the exertion earlier and the leaning he’s doing now. He shakes them out, holding a breath and releasing it with the tension in his muscles. He cannot jeopardize his abilities by merely being stressed.

The Avatar isn’t yet found, but the places to go are few in reality. Most locations would be an issue for staying hidden for long, so the real question is what priorities would the Avatar have?

He clearly already has a waterbending teacher, so the next step would be earth. That would make it easier to track the boy but harder to predict where he’d go. He could potentially find some sources on the best earthbending masters along any direction the small team heads.

They might go back to the North, to return the waterbender and help protect the Avatar. Clearly, they hid him for a long time with the lack of interest in the South, but that is over now that the Fire Nation knows of his return.

Perhaps they might go to find a firebending teacher, planning to slip past while the Fire Nation’s forces search everywhere but their own territory.

The only true way to tell is waiting to see the direction the Avatar heads.

He sighs deeply, then stands to go to sleep. The next day will give more information. Of that, he is certain.

A tiger-seal fights a wolf. There is no blood, only noise, but somehow he is certain that the seal is fighting the wolf.

A blizzard swirls around his body, and he turns and turns and turns-

He sits in a cave of ice and snow, the Avatar across from him. Both of them sit posed for meditation.

The sky turns red as blood, stained as far as his eyes can see. A woman screams, but instead of fading, it rings and rings and rings, shaking his soul until his whole body is trembling in place.

Zuko wakes up in a freezing sweat.

~

“So, why haven’t you taken off the paint?”

“Too much time. I’d rather let it fade naturally.”

“Oh. How long does it last?”

“It can last weeks back home, but I wouldn’t wager that long in a new place.”

“Oh. Why do you always call me a kid when you’re a kid?”

“I’m not as much of a kid as you.”

“Sokka, that’s a lie.” He looks up from his sewing to toss a glare at his sister.

“It is not a lie. I am less a child than Aang and have been for some time.”

“You’re still a kid!”

He scoffs, and she splashes a bit of water on him in retaliation. He catches it in his mouth to spit back at her, which she easily just directs over the side of the saddle.

“You mean because you’re the only warrior in your village?” Aang leans forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

“He’s the only Warrior of Tradition, but he’s definitely not the only warrior, because if he’s not a kid, then the others aren’t, either.”

“Katara, the children are all younger than even Aang. They might be warriors someday, but their mothers are more warriors than they.”

“What’s a Warrior of Tradition?”

“It’s what she calls me because I’m the only one trained in the old ways. And by that, I mean the only one trained when we used to just have boys hunting and girls gathering. We changed that.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Aang is quiet for a moment, then scoots forward. “Do you want to learn how to spin yarn?”

“Already know.”

“With a drop-spindle?”

Both siblings look at him, expecting an example. Not one to disappoint, Aang holds up a small spindle, this one clearly meant for hands but not the style they’re used to.

“Another way to spin yarn?”

“Yeah, we learn it young. I can teach you!”

Sokka perks up at that… and then realizes an issue.

“We don’t exactly have wool, do we?”

“Oh, we use bison fur!”

Katara laughs as her brother shoves his sewing aside and shoves her aside to move closer to the airbender. He sits crosslegged in front of the smaller boy, waiting expectantly.

“I see I have an eager student,” Aang laughs, standing briefly to pull some loose fur from Appa’s side. “Want a demonstration first or to try first?”

“Demonstration.”

“Demonstration it is!”

~

Five hours later, Sokka and Aang have both learned quite a bit. Katara, too, but more by existing near the two than actively participating.

It started with the drop-spindle, but then Aang brought up the seeds and decided to start talking about how to identify edible fruits and nuts and even seeds. Then Sokka started asking about the inedible ones, and Aang turned out to be surprisingly knowledgeable about poisonous things and their antidotes.

In return, Sokka clearly had to teach his tribe member proper techniques, such as whistle calls and how to tell when an animal is nearby. Sure, the kid won’t ever hunt, but just because Aang won’t hurt an animal doesn’t mean the animal will refrain from hurting Aang.

“So you guys use these all the time?”

“Sometimes,” Katara concedes, steering Appa with the lack of interest from the other two. “Sokka tends to use them because he’s a hunter, and that’s a good habit to keep.”

“How do you use it hunting? Isn’t hunting something people do alone?”

“It’s not meant to be,” she replies, a hint of bitterness in her tone. Sokka clicks his teeth at her, because it wasn’t like their father wanted to leave.

“I hunt alone because I lack a group, but I was raised going on group hunts. That’s actually why we have whistles, not the other way ‘round. We use them to tell where we are, who we are with, if we need help, so on. It sounds like wind over ice, and that means less of our prey is tipped off that they’re about to become meals.”

“Oh. That’s interesting.”

“You don’t have to like it.”

“Oh. I don’t, then.”

“BOYS!”

Both turn sharply. Katara is waving around them, as they landed and neither noticed.

“Right, sorry! Thank you, Katara!” Sokka rushes to disembark, launching himself down and starting to do exactly what they talked about earlier: gather Appa’s shedding fur for more practice.

They still don’t end up being quick, though this time, Sokka can point the blame on Katara. She asks about some of the plants, and Aang happily launches into teaching. He’s honest when he doesn’t know, but he knows enough patterns and definitely knows more about plants than either of the two siblings do.

When they finally climb back aboard, it’s because Sokka tripped over a log and tore a hole in his pants. Katara ushers both boys into the saddle, and makes a few comments about dealing with two instead of one.

Sokka jabs her in the side for that. Aang isn’t nearly as bad as Sokka is about focusing up instead of being curious.

“So.”

“Here we go,” Katara sighs.

“Well, I want to know!” Aang shoots back, arms spread in defense of himself. “I’ve never gotten to learn about the Water Tribes this much!”

“I know, I know, just make sure you two keep an eye out for anyone following us.”

“Yes, Katara,” Sokka drawls, then leans forward to listen to the question.

Aang promptly digs around in one of the bags, pulling out Sokka’s needle and thread. He holds them up, and gestures at the needle.

“What are these? We use metal or wood, and we use plant fibers or hair for the thread.”

“We don’t have much metal, and getting it that thin and sharp is a little difficult, so we use bone instead. Same idea with wood and plant fibers. We might use roots or hair if we can manage it, but mostly we use bone and sinew.”

“SINEW?”

Sokka stares at the shock in Aang’s voice, and then looks at the now-dropped bundle of thread. He remembers the Fire Prince had a similar reaction to his spear being made of bone. Sure, it’s a longer bone than most ever see, but surely the material is used elsewhere. Right?

“Most of what we use comes from what we hunt or find. Our tents and clothes are skins, furs, and wool if we’re lucky. Our weapons and tools are driftwood and bone. Sinew is useful for thread, just as organs of animals can be made into pouches for food or medicine, if we treat it right. Heck, my necklace is ivory that my dad got when the tribe managed to bring in a walrus.”

“Don’t think of it as using an animal for everything. Think of it as using everything of an animal so nothing is ever wasted. It’s how we show respect that they gave their lives for our people to survive.”

Aang still looks horrified, but he manages to pick up the thread and put it away with the needle. Carefully. Like it might bite.

“Okay, I can understand that. I don’t like it, but I can see why you’d use sinew instead of, uh, roots. Probably easier to get than digging into the ice a bunch.”

“Way easier. Got more questions?” Sokka asks hopefully, because any question about something else is better than the uncomfortable posture Aang has.

“You said your weapons are bone and wood, but your boomerang seems to be metal. Why?”

“Oh, my grandfather passed it on to me. He got it from another village, back when the tribe was larger. Apparently it was forged from iron that fell from the sky. Cold-forged, though we just say forged because, well, I haven’t actually heard of anyone using fire. Seems too dangerous to have that much heat in one place.”

“That’s really cool! How old were you?”

“I was three when he passed, and it went to me because my dad’s too old.”

“Too old? Isn’t it a weapon?”

“It’s a training weapon.”

Aang blinks.

“A training weapon? Like, you give it to a kid so they learn how to throw a real boomerang when they’re older? And the other village made it with metal so it would be fancy for your grandfather?”

“No, actually, though that’s close. About the metal, I mean. Yes, it’s built for a child to use, but the metal is so that the kid who uses it gains more strength than with a wooden one. Metal is heavier, and throwing it right is more difficult than with wood.”

“You hit that prince guy with it pretty hard.”

“Well, I learned early on that if you can hit someone with something heavy, it doesn’t usually matter what it was built to do. Clubs are like that by design, but a metal boomerang works decent. Plus, unlike most of the proper designs, this one returns to me.”

“Oh, so you can reuse it after you throw instead of having to retrieve it! That’s pretty smart. Is that why you always carry it?”

“No, he always carries it because he learned it was from our grandfather and started sleeping with it under his head. Our parents decided that having a designated place for it would prevent him cutting his own head just because he didn’t sleep well and pressed too hard on the metal.”

“Aw, that’s cute.”

“Is not,” Sokka grumbles. Not using Gran-Gran’s words is more difficult than he expected. He blames Katara.

~

They stop a bit earlier that night, mostly so that Aang can fully recover from his series of Spirit-uses over the past few days. Katara takes the torn pants from Sokka, who just sighs and starts inventorying food and supplies, and Aang keeps up his constant talking. It’s reassuring that he always has something positive to say, or interesting, or even just plain weird.

Katara pulls him aside just before their meal, and they run through their katas with Aang watching. Neither uses bending, with Katara making up the excuses for the training when prompted. She says she’ll teach him, and then moves on in a move that would impress Yuki, straight into food and meditation.

Sokka is very glad he has his sister with him on this weird journey.

The boat is a fishing boat, he thinks, now that he looks closer. The storm is angry, but now he can see that it circles swirling in some unknown pattern. Appa is above, circling already, and lurches forward to catch him when the waves toss him skyward.

The force that knocks him off is not wind, but perhaps whatever needs to show him more. He looks down when he’s grabbed, this time, and sees those whiskers of the serpent around him. It brings him to the shore, which has what he now knows is sand, and a line of trees further back. He lifts a hand in farewell to the serpent.

The statues flash as he stares, and he recognizes at least one, now. Roku, the earthbender, and Aang but older. Momo and Aang, spinning and having fun. The voice and a hallway of red and black and fire. The second serpent, clearer now as one of fire where the other is water. It stares into his eyes, moving closer as he meets it more readily.

The Spirit beckons him, and he takes off running-

The North, the feast, the strange place of ice and plants alike-

A face as the scream rings in his ears, flashing before him, familiar but faded-

He sighs as he gets up. The others are dead asleep and he wants to give them plenty of time to rest before they move on again. Sokka makes sure that Appa is awake and alert, and heads into the forest.

He doesn’t go far, but he’s very careful nonetheless. He mostly keeps a vague eye out for tracks or signs of an animal. If he could, he would love some meat, but he supposes that might also make Aang upset.

Perhaps it’s better when he returns having seen no sign of anything worth tracking down.

He wakes the others after a little more time, when the Sun is properly risen, and herds them to the place they’d meditated the night before. Aang yawns through it, but that doesn’t change that he’s participating and smiling when they all stand up.

The boy declares he’ll be steering, and they eat and head off, and Sokka notes to Katara that they’ll likely end up lost. She punches him, but also seems worried about the Avatar’s navigation skills.

Well, only time will tell, he supposes.

~

He wakes the next day after a relatively uneventful travel to find that he hasn’t had a dream, and he’s only waking because of the Sun having risen fully. With some good fortune, the confusing sleep will be over for a longer time.

Aang asks to steer again, and this time Sokka asks right away what the boy intends to head to. Apparently, they’re going to catch a deer-dog.

“Fine. We are not keeping it, though. A lemur that can fly isn’t about to die if it falls over the edge. A deer-dog might leap right off the side without realizing it.”

“Promise. No pets on this trip!”

The deer-dog rips a hole in his pants. He growls right back at it, and it whines in apology, clearly not expecting him to have a louder voice than the beast. As if wolves aren’t louder when they do the same. Aang still manages to convince him to not kill the thing for food, mostly by having better pup-eyes than the creature he hugs while he does it.

Katara promises to make sure his pants are properly sewn up and not about to rip over nothing. That eases some of his frustration at the issue, though he maintains his grumbling up until they meditate.

He wonders if he’ll ever be able to hold onto his anger through meditation. That’s supposed to be the point.

Regardless, they go to sleep without him holding it over Aang’s head as to why they shouldn’t take any more of these stops, so everyone’s happy. Sokka’s barely happy, but he supposes that still counts.

“Sokka, try to sleep more, okay?” He turns to see it’s Aang saying the words. Still, he immediately looks at Katara, who is very not-suspiciously pretending to sleep.

“I’ll try. Thanks, Aang.” And he’ll also be having a talk with Katara about whatever it is that she told the other. He has been sleeping! Every night! That’s more than he usually does!

He sticks his tongue out at her back.

The cave is familiar to him, but he wonders why it was familiar to start. The water serpent reaches for the soft earth again. He should know what it is.

Two faces look back at him. The woman stands behind him, peering over with the same paint as his own.

The black rock flies faster, and the soldiers are the ones with fire. He protects the man again, and then he’s with the other one, the older one laying on the floor as though knocked down. The shadows move around him, and one stands out, hooked claws extending as it prepares to launch forward.

The Spirit is struggling, he thinks, flickering between its form and one that is twisted, gaunt with something that might not be hunger.

He turns from the tree to face the Moon, and the sky turns red.

Sokka decides to not wake Aang up. He won’t be waking either of the others for a bit, but he can still just wake Katara and let her wake Aang.

He doesn’t even need sleep!

He watches the sunrise, and it still is as odd and pretty as the first time. Katara wakes up shortly after, her body finally adjusting to the different schedule. She glares at him and he meets it with his own, and even though she’s stubborn, it is her fault. So she wakes Aang up and pretends she woke Sokka instead of him already being up.

Up in the air, having spent a few hours with the chatter dying down and just watching Aang fly, he finally asks a burning question.

“You have no idea where you're going, do you?”

“Well… I know it’s near water.” Sokka does not need the map in his hands to know that ‘near water’ is not a good landmark when they are surrounded by the liquid.

“I guess we're getting close then.”

He sighs as he realizes how long this trip will really end up being, and starts making grabbing motions towards the pants that Katara is sewing. She sighs, too, though more that he’s already needing something to do. For some reason - mostly his inability to not do things - she really doesn’t like when he gets restless.

It’s not like he has control of it. Though she does have a point about how he doesn’t help mitigate the effects, and instead just gives in and starts doing things. But would not doing things really help all that much?

He doesn’t think so, but he also has plenty of bruises from a sister who insists he needs to take time to sit down and not do anything. He might as well try to finish the sewing fast- Would better quality be better for long-term Katara happiness? Long-term is better, but he also has her pulling Aang into things.

Fast and good? Fast as he can with keeping the good, maybe. That sounds better. He nods to himself, putting his head closer to the fabric and making sure his stitching is in all the right places and lengths.

He finishes as Aang steers them down, towards an island with stone mountains and green over most of the rest. The land is shaped like some lobster-crab that had its shell grow lumpy. It looks like a good place to make camp, but camp shouldn’t be made before midday has even arrived.

He holds his thoughts until they land, mostly because he can agree that a bit of resupplying where they can is a good thing. Just not if it’s the whole day.

“We just made a pit-stop yesterday. Shouldn't we get a little more flying done before we camp out?”

“He's right. At this rate, we won't get to the North Pole until spring.” Sokka files the agreement away for future use against his sister. She will mind a lot, but she knows better than to say that where he can hear her.

“But Appa's tired, aren't you boy?” Appa does not appear tired. “I said, aren't you, boy?” Appa pretends to be tired with a very fake yawn.

Staring at the massive beast that carries them daily and is their only ticket to the North, as well as the airbender who is smiling hopefully, Sokka lets out the deepest, most aggrieved sigh he can.

“Fine. This is the last time we stop for anything other than supplies or directions until the North,” he states, one hand on his hip and the other pointing emphatically at the boy. Aang nods so fast his head looks like it’ll fall off. “After we get you a waterbending teacher, you can have some fun, but the North is one of the few places we’ll be safe from the Fire Nation.”

 “Promise. Now, look! Elephant-koi!”

He does look, briefly, so he can pretend he isn’t nudging Katara closer to the water. She pushes him back, but given it’s pushing him towards Appa, she’s mad that he’s right. Honestly. He isn’t that oblivious. She at least likes having a new friend not from the tribe, and that’s enough for her to be on Aang-duty.

Him? He’s on Appa-duty. Which is very important work, given that Appa immediately moves away to start exploring things with his mouth.

“Stop it, idiot. You don’t know what that is,” he scolds quietly, tugging the weird-looking branch away. “I know it’s hard, but if you’re gonna use your mouth, at least don’t eat it. Lick. That way you can spit it back out.”

Appa groans, clearly not agreeing with him, and promptly tries to steal the branch back. Momo comes over, but instead of helping, the thing starts shoving the branch further into the bison’s mouth.

“No! Momo, get water!” Momo stares for a long moment, looks at the branch, back at Sokka, and finally at the saddle. Then, thankfully, the lemur leaps away, clambering into the saddle to retrieve what will hopefully be a waterskin.

Grumbling at Appa - who grumbles right back - he tugs again, dislodging the branch and immediately shoving it far away from the beast. Said beast pushes against his body, trying to reach the prize.

Stuck in an unchanging state, Sokka’s mind starts to wander. He doesn’t want to think about it, but he remembers the place they’ve landed. Sand, trees, the space between them and the water…

The serpent.

He freezes, and Appa huffs, pausing in the struggle. The bison starts pressing against him differently, more of a searching pressure, but he needs to think. How likely is it?

The shore seems to be the one he saw. He saw it twice. Most of his dreams are once, but he’s had two of them, twice each, and that must mean something. Patterns don’t change if there isn’t something to cause that change. Is the serpent in the water that held the fishing boat or the water that holds Aang now?

And is it friendly or is that just the dream? Is that just Sokka?

Red and white and black flashes. He blinks, forcing the colors away, and gets his body moving.

“Katara, whistle him in! Something’s in the water!”

She listens, immediately whistling come the loudest she can. He joins in, and they both see the change in the koi that occurs. Something dark and big, hidden by depth.

Aang doesn’t seem to hear them, or rather doesn’t seem to remember which signal they’re giving, so Sokka changes tactics. He starts waving his arms, and when the other seems to only get more confused, he continues it as he climbs into Appa’s saddle.

“Katara, get in the saddle! He-”

The boy is launched as the koi beneath him is pulled under the water. Both siblings hold their breath, quiet as they look to see if the creature notices such a small form as Aang.

Judging by the scream and the way the airbender starts running on top of water, it noticed him.

Katara leaps up, her arms extended to either side. Sokka grabs the left, just as Aang comes barrelling onto shore, hitting the right. The waterbender grunts as she twists, using her brother to anchor and the momentum to swing Aang into the saddle with them.

“Great. Well, you rode the elephant-koi. That was the only reason we came, and now we leave.”

“Where’s Momo?”

He groans, eyes rolling skyward as he realizes that Momo is not in the saddle. Instead, the lemur sits next to the branch that was almost Appa’s lunch.

“I got him.” He jumps back down, jogging to the small creature and reaching out as he does.

A waterskin is shoved into his hands. He pats the lemur on the head in praise.

“Yeah, good job. This is water. Next time, though, bring it to where I am, not where I was, okay?” The lemur chitters, likely not understanding a word he says, and climbs onto his shoulder.

Something taps his other one.

And he really can’t be blamed. It’s an entirely normal reaction to have, and he’s had it before. Katara laughs at it, even!

Still, he doesn’t mean to almost crush the person’s skull with his club. It seems a bit disrespectful, even if it’s a reaction and not intention.

His breath leaves him all at once, and he immediately drops his club, raising his other hand he puts the weapon away.

“Sorry, sorry. Instinct. Are we intruding?”

“Sokka! Who is that?”

Katara sounds concerned, which is fair. Usually, Sokka is incredibly cautious and would instantly rush back to defend the group, but she can’t see what he does.

The warrior before him is painted with the same face as the wooden woman. Red and black brows, red lips, white face. Dramatic and sharp, likely for intimidation. The outfit resembles a dress, green and black and yellow, and they hold fans that shine oddly. Weapons, then, meant to look otherwise.

And behind them, several other shadows are just off enough, just different from where they should be, that he knows there are more in the trees.

The island must be connected to that Avatar. That would explain the different statues he saw, and that these warriors bear similar garb to her. Which means that this is their island, and that means trouble.

Sokka would’ve been extremely suspicious of anyone who came to his village, just because they don’t get visitors. If the island has visitors but they come a certain way or are always the same people, then these warriors won’t just be suspicious because it’s odd. They’ll be suspicious because of the war.

“They live here! I told you we should’ve kept going!” He moves away from the warrior, turning his back even though every instinct screams against it. He climbs onto Appa’s back, planning to rush them into the air and out of the way of the threat that he doesn’t even want to alert anyone to.

Instead, one of the other warriors moves forward with speed difficult to track and pulls Appa’s reins over the bison’s head. Leading them, then.

“Alright, we’ll let you lot lead if that’s what you need. We’re gonna end up being lost travellers, but you do what you gotta do.”

Katara glares at him, and he ignores it, trying to feign calm by looking out over the water for that serpent. She flicks him, and he ignores that, too.

She waits to push harder until the warriors have started moving, leaving their hiding spots to surround the group. He tries to avoid flinching at the harsh whispering that erupts in his ear.

“Why didn’t you fight them?”

“We would be suspicious, too,” he murmurs back, trying to act as though calming her. “They decided to not knock us out, so let’s try to keep that hospitality until we can get out of here.”

She humphs, not at all placated, and flicks him once more, harder, to drive the point home.

“So, are we meeting the locals?” Aang asks, sitting crosslegged and looking nervous.

“Looks like it.”

~

Appa is led through the trees along what must be the biggest path, which is still a little tight for the bison. The warriors keep silent the entire time, each dressed in the same gear, with the same paint. He’s heard of uniforms, seen them on the Fire Nation soldiers, but he hadn’t expected them to be so common. Really, he should’ve known.

His mother had once said that the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation did so much better because they could grow resources from the very ground, even clothes. He has, of course, noticed the way that Aang’s clothes are so thin, and assumed it was some sort of gathered fur or hair of an animal. The other could spin, and that implied the nomads used it for clothes.

But these warriors wear similar clothes under their armor. The garb is so thin, but clearly not moving as anything Sokka knows. It implies that the odd movement of Aang’s clothes has less to do with the other being an airbender and more to do with what makes the items.

Katara elbows him. He blinks, realizing they’re entering a village. The buildings are all odd, but maybe not so odd for a place that can grow anything they take from the land. Wood and stone and panels of something he doesn’t know but looks as solid as ice, all arranged in the same design, one building after another. Even the tribe has different sorts of tents, but most of these are exactly the same, with only a few further away that seem entirely separate for some reason.

“What is this, Suki?”

Sokka’s head snaps to the front, and he sees two things at once. The first is an Elder with a weird hairstyle and a large beard. Another member of the village, then.

The second is a large pole, topped with a statue. A totem with only one focus. A woman of wood, dressed in green and yellow, face covered in black and white and red.

The Avatar.

“We found them near the Unagi’s shore. They claim to be travellers,” one of the warriors replies, walking to meet the Elder.

“Travellers near the Unagi? None come by that way, unless they mean trouble.”

His gaze tears away from the statue at those words. Katara lays a hand on his arm, pressing down to warn him. He clenches his jaw in response.

“They acted as though unaware.”

“Uh, we were unaware,” Aang says, walking forward in the saddle. “We came so I could ride the elephant-koi.”

“And you expect us to believe such a farce? If the Fire Nation sent you as spies, you are very poor at your duties!”

“Spies?” Aang frowns. Sokka resists the urge to pull them away, to tell Appa to fly, to respond, because yes, Aang, the war makes everyone suspicious.

“Kyoshi Island does not often get traders, and travellers have not come for even longer than my time. If you tell the-”

“Kyoshi? The island is named after Kyoshi? I know her!”

“Ha! How could you possibly know her? Avatar Kyoshi was born here four hundred years ago. She’s been dead for centuries.” The Elder seems very foolish. How did he live so long? Surely there are still enough dangers to get the Elders to think clearly or not become Elders at all.

“I know her because I'm the Avatar.”

Sokka slaps his forehead with his hand. They will most certainly be discussing this later. One was bad enough, but two different people who can’t even keep a secret for a single conversation? He has a long journey ahead of him.

“That's impossible! The last Avatar was an airbender who disappeared a hundred years ago.” This time, it is the warrior who walked away that speaks. Her fists are clenched tight, and she seems to shake with anger. He wonders why. Maybe false hope one too many times?

“That’s me!”

“You disrespe-”

“Okay, y’know what? Shut up.”

“Sokka!”

He turns, glaring at his sister so harshly that she flinches. He knows when to pick a fight, and this Elder is too foolish to understand the facts before him. If they must argue for their lives, he will argue.

Her eyes sharpen in only a mere second. She shoves him as hard as she can, and he clenches his fists in response. He bares his teeth, to show her just how much he despises people disrespecting his family. She puts a hand on his shoulder, looking to Aang instead.

“Aang, could you show them the marble trick? I think airbending will be proof enough.”

“Okay!”

The marble trick works.

Sokka doesn’t pay attention after that.

He knows that there will be much worse things than disrespect, but he didn’t realize how angry he could get. Back home, everyone understands what respect is, and how the idea of ‘polite’ doesn’t fit, and that everything in the world deserves respect, even the worst of the worst or lowest of the low. Here, it seems, is the first experience of how even Elders can lack sense to understand basic concepts like context.

He sits on Appa’s head, guiding the bison when the warriors lead them off into the village. There is a lot more to think about that is less aggravating. He thinks that considering how he would make a better Fire Nation spy than this Elder assumed is merely asking for rage to take him.

Instead, he looks at the loose clothing of the people, all in very pale blues. He sees the different structures around the buildings, holding food and clothes and other items he doesn’t know. He even studies the warriors, the way they move and the way they talk to Aang and Katara.

His sister looks up at him for only a moment. Her eyes say that she understands, and he remembers that she feels the same anger as him. But, as their mother once said, where one is water, the other is fire, and that will always be true. It is the balance of the two, the way they work well together in everything, even when at each other’s throats.

The Elder is apologizing to Aang, and Sokka pushes that out of his attention. He can work on devising a system for Appa. He could teach the same whistles that they already use, maybe teach some of the directions so that Appa can be guided without reins. It would help if they can’t ride on the bison or if they have to focus on something else away from the reins.

There’s a lot of green around them, and the entire place looks so… empty. There are buildings, but it’s much like the expanses of ice around the tribe: everything looks the same and navigating takes skill. He grunts at the thought, and Appa mimics him, surging forward somewhat to happen to bump into the Elder in front of them.

Aang glares as he helps steady the old fool, but Sokka just pretends to have been looking elsewhere.

~

The larger building turns out to be a place for the warriors to live and the Elders to teach. If these Elders teach at all.

Katara is still pushing him to the back, away from all the strangers, and he understands why she is. He’s not in a good mood, and focusing on other things only lasts so long when he gets no answers to the questions he forms. Questions like why is the entire building meant for warriors made of wood when the Fire Nation uses, y’know, fire? Or why is everything so green?

Fortunately, they end up alone soon enough, left with lunch in a room they’ve been told is for them alone. Sokka sighs the moment there are no more people but his tribe, and settles down beside the others.

Then stops.

He meets his sister’s gaze. Both of them don’t even know where to start.

“Is something wrong?” Aang asks, already eating with enthusiasm.

“Why are there so many different things?”

“Because they have lots of different food?” Great, now all three of them are confused instead of just two.

“We mean that we don’t know what any of this is and we just eat one thing a meal, maybe two.”

“Oh.” Aang swallows, tilting his head as he thinks. “Do you want me to tell you what the stuff you don’t know is?”

Both nod, Katara more vigorously. She’s likely very hungry from the stress. Sokka frowns. They need to figure out how to trade with these people to get more supplies. They lack any proper rations, nothing dried or tight-packed.

“What’s this?” He looks to see she’s pointing at the weird round flat things that look like cuts of pelts without fur. Leather before being leather or untreated skins.

“Those are rice crackers. They’re savory, like meat, but they don’t have any in them.” Aang smiles apologetically at Sokka, which seems very odd. Did he miss something?

“Oh… and what are rice crackers?”

“They’re… crackers made of rice?”

“She means what is rice and what are crackers?” He hopes those are the right words. Aang said them like they’re separate things.

“Oh, well. Rice is a plant, and it can be made into a lot of different things. They make these little grains that people can grind up or cook as it is or, in this case, make into crackers! Crackers are hard pieces of bread.”

The two siblings look at each other. This time, Aang picks up on it much faster.

“Bread is made from plants like rice. Crackers basically are making the bread thinner so it gets crunchy when you cook it.”

“And what’s this one?” Katara takes a rice cracker as she asks, and Sokka huffs and follows.

“These are, uh, hold on.” The airbender takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Okay, this seems like it’s got something fruity in it, and I think they used a bean paste. Beans are like rice but if it was bigger and full of more water. These are kinda moist. Not bad.”

Sokka picks up one and quarters it, passing two to Aang and one to Katara. They all eat their pieces together, and the taste is, as said, wet and fruity and somehow filling his entire mouth without effort.

“Hm. And the next?”

“Oh, those are manju! I got to have those once when I went to festival. They’re like very thin bread around more bean paste, and these look like they have some nuts on them.” Aang takes a bite, eyes widening, then closing as he concentrates, before he perks back up. “And these ones have cinnamon! It’s really good, too!”

There turns out to be a lot of different types of food on the table. Lots of beans and rice for the bases or fillings, some seasonings that aren’t salt, and the only thing that the siblings recognize is the seaweed wrapped around some weird crackers. There’s even some tea that Aang says is called green tea, which fits the coloring but not the idea of tea with their meal.

Sokka hums, pouring a small cup for himself as the younger two start to chatter about what they want to do for their short stay on the island. Aang wants to meet people, of course, and Katara wants to explore the strange place and learn more.

He, meanwhile, is going to have to focus on what comes next. That’s fine. He likes planning, and he’s used to being the one left to the job. They need to get supplies and directions. Directions are easy if Aang does the talking, though he’ll need to coach the boy on what to ask and what to listen for, or they’ll end up going the wrong direction.

Supplies, however…

He freezes.

The taste is very different from what he knows. It isn’t as sweet as some of the food, and he’s grateful, as his stomach has been starting to hurt. This is more like the smell of grass. It… well, it tastes green.

Tea back home was always something bitter, that puckered the face the first time, but then not the second because he’d been chewing bramble for a few years longer. It was medicine. It was used to treat things. It was something that they had to use carefully, because there was no point in boiling water and adding things to it if they weren’t going to use all of it.

This… This is tea served with food as if that’s normal. This is green, not brown. This is something he doesn’t know how to describe properly. The smell is the same, but he never trusts his nose for food as much as he trusts his tongue. The heat fills him, and he takes a deep breath, letting that overlooked smell fill in the gaps.

Odd, but not unpleasant.

He shakes his head, using the sensation to try and put himself back into planning. Supplies. They need supplies.

Right.

Well, supplies means they need to trade, since this isn’t their village. Trade means having something that others want. What would these people want? Are they sensible enough to want ivory or fur? Perhaps he could hunt and trade meat for other foods.

His gaze travels out the large window, which has a way to close it off for the night. Smart, but not as smart as if they had had no windows and instead just put slits in the walls. The village looks a little easier to navigate from this view, arranged neatly in rows. He counts the number, arranging them in his head so he can find his way later.

The statue is visible from this point. People have climbed up it, using some poles strung together to help. Painting it over, maybe? They must not have anything else to do.

His dreams are getting worse.

He clears his throat, shaking his head harder. He needs to get himself together. Yes, the serpent was here. Yes, he recognizes the shore they landed on and the statue before him and the face that has been in the dreams is now on every warrior he’s seen. But he has people to provide for, and that means that he can wait. The dreams can wait.

“Sokka? Aang and I are heading to go explore.”

“I’ll look around, too. Look for outcasts and watch your footing.” She nods, grabbing Aang’s arm and leaving promptly after. Momo trails after them, chittering with arms full of treats.

Sokka downs the rest of his tea, sighing as he hears them walk down the stairs. Why any place needs more than one level is beyond him, but he’s in a new land. Not his land, even with the water and the blue and the people who let their leaders talk but are still prepared to fight.

There are three places for them to sleep, thicker than the bedrolls they have. Katara already dropped one of their emptier bags there, and he smiles. She knows him well.

He grabs the little pot of tea, moving to set it and his cup near the furthest bed. He nearly leaves a weapon next to it, but then rethinks it. They were disrespected when they arrived, so he should be fine in disrespecting any rule about carrying weapons in the village. He would be fine with that, if he’d disrespected someone so harshly.

Maybe. He does have a temper, as he is remembering the more he meets strangers.

Grabbing the bag, he follows the path out the door, making sure to close it behind him. He leaves a thread on the floor against the inner side, just to be safe. Then, with a bit of twisting in his chest from the sheer unknown of this place, he heads down the stairs.

The village outside is very odd. He can just make out the forms of Katara and Aang running off, which he hopes is not for the worse.

There is a lot of wood and stone and green, as he first thought. There’s several tables that aren’t tables, covered on the tops and full of items. Trading, then. Something often enough that they have a system for arranging things they are willing to part with. Nothing seems to be what he recognizes, though.

Cautiously, he moves to one of the first ones. The woman there has hair a paler brown than he’s seen before, and eyes as black as a buffalo-yak’s. He waits patiently for her to finish a conversation with the man at the table after hers, and scans the items she has out. Mostly pieces of cloth, that same pale blue as they all seem to wear. He wonders why, since his own people only wear blue to repel predators or because they use skins that happen to be blue.

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” He blinks at the woman, then chooses to ignore it and just answer.

“I was wondering how to get supplies around here. We don’t have much money, and I don’t know if you’d be able to take that. Do your people trade?”

“Oh!” She blinks at him, as confused at his question as he is that she called him ‘sir’. Frowning, she moves back over to the man she was speaking to a moment before, muttering quietly to him.

Sokka suddenly realizes he has nothing to show, which means he can’t exactly show the quality of his items and help her understand what he could trade, if they do allow him to use that. She seems distracted enough…

He turns and dashes towards Appa, ignoring the people brushing down the bison to instead rummage through his supplies. He packed some ivory, and he knows that he has a few extra bones he might be able to use. Ivory first, of course, as he has little use for it all the way out here.

Hurrying back, he finds the woman still speaking to her friend, not seeming to have noticed him leave. He carefully pulls out one of the pieces, shoving the pouch into his bag. The piece is good enough, though not his best work at harvesting.

“Ruri says that he can help spread the word if you’re set on trading, but I thought you were here with the Avatar?”

“I- Yes? Is that important?”

“Our village will do anything to help the Avatar. Kyoshi saved our people and he has come to save us again.” The woman extends her arm with the hand slightly curved. Curious, he grabs her forearm, squeezing and letting go. She seems confused at that, but not upset. Wrong but not bad.

“We are not your people, though. Surely I should give you something in return.”

“My name is Suishō, and no, you shouldn’t. It is a good season for us. We can afford to share.”

“What about your stores?”

“Full to the brim.”

“In a wooden place that can burn if the Fire Nation chases us here?”

Suishō blinks again. He must be strange to confuse her so much.

“No, in stone.”

“Good.” He stares at the cloth on her table. “What would be respectful to ask for?”

“Respectful?”

“Should I speak to someone else on that?”

“No, no!” Suishō says, words coming quickly. “Why would yo- You are allowed to ask for whatever you might need to make it on your journey. Even if you weren’t the Avatar’s team, you are children!”

He refrains from saying he isn’t a child, because he technically is. He hasn’t taken his ice-dodging trial yet.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just don’t know what much of these items are. My home mostly has ice and water.”

Suishō stares. Hard. She reminds him of Katara, or Yizhi on a bad day.

“Do you need cloth?”

He stares down at the table. Then at Suishō. Then at his piece of ivory, now clenched inside a fist. His plan has been changed very quickly.

Slowly, he starts to move away.

“I will check.”

He moves back to Appa, but this time to look busy. He still ignores the people who are brushing loose fur off the bison, who also keep glancing at him as they work.

He knows what they have and what they need. He just doesn’t know how to handle these people. They are all so different.

His people have always helped travellers who passed through, but there are none now. They used currency for those that traded, or goods that the traders asked for, but travellers didn’t come prepared and that always showed.

But here? He is not a traveller lost on the ice. He’s a visitor, and the hospitality has already been given to their group. They need supplies, but that should entail trading, or even labor if he needs to. Not… not people who think they’re too young and want to give things they might need later.

He jumps down again after a few minutes, this time to walk towards the trees. There are lots of them, full of bright green and surrounded by even more plants. He enters their cover, and waits until he’s out of sightlines to start truly moving.

His speed is still hampered, and his skills are made for a different place, but he manages to find the tracks of a small animal nonetheless. It turns out to be a small rodent, about the size of a snow rat but with the shape of a wolf-rabbit. He makes its end short, stringing it to his side and moving on to see if he can find more.

~

He comes back that night to find that Katara is upset and Aang is confused.

“What happened?”

“Oh, nothing. We’re having so much fun here.”

Sokka turns to Aang after letting the sarcasm fester silently for a moment.

“Did anyone approach you?”

“Uh, lots. A lot of people seem to want to meet me. I didn’t realize that being the Avatar was such a big deal to them.”

“Tomorrow, stick to the village and stick together. If she’s mad, she saw something you didn’t.”

“Okay. What about you? What did you do today?”

“Explored.” He’s not saying hunting. The boy will not like that. “Met someone named Suishō. She was intensely nice.”

“That sounds nice! Are you gonna see her tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I have to get our supplies together.”

“C’mon, Sokka, do you ever just have fun?”

Katara scoffs, and he promptly makes a gesture to tell Aang to stop the conversation. Instead, he moves to the table, grabbing some of the food that must’ve been brought in earlier for the night’s meal. There’s another thing of tea there.

“Have you two eaten?” He gets a huff and a shaken head. He grunts at that, shoving one of the less overwhelming foods in his mouth and motioning Aang towards the food. Then, with the skill of a decade and some, he grabs Katara by the back of her coat and starts to drag her over to the table.

She remains limp all the way until he sets her down at the furthest point from Aang. He gets punched in the leg, but her shoulders are less tense, which means either the humor at him still dragging her around like a carcass works, or Aang did something to upset her and didn’t realize it.

Given the other’s confusion and how angry she was, he’d wager it was something Aang did.

“Eat and then we meditate. I want both of you sleeping while we have somewhere safe. Yes, I will be sleeping, but I don’t want excitement keeping you awake, Aang.”

The airbender grumbles at him, but follows his words. He nods at that, settling down with them and letting out some of the stress that has been in his shoulders since they arrived. Food, then meditation, then sleep.

A plan difficult to fall apart, as all the best ones are.

~

The island looks very different in the dark.

It’s mostly the shadows. There aren’t many shadows back home, but instead a wide expanse of darkness that only changes when things move. Here, everything has a shadow, and it all seems to move without actually moving.

He hurries his step. The sooner he’s done, the sooner he goes back.

The little cave he found is not much bigger than a person can crawl through for the entrance, but decently sized once he squeezes through. He’s lucky to have found it, and even luckier that he had the supplies to protect his kills. No predator was stealing them this time.

It doesn’t take much time to prepare the creatures for trade, primarily because they’re so small. He doesn’t even know if there are larger land animals outside the cold. The largest he’s seen is Appa, who is built to handle cold, and the deer-dogs, which weren’t very large.

He would love to keep the meat for himself, but he knows that meat can go bad. Apparently most of the grains that Aang talked about don’t go bad nearly as often. Really only if they get wet, which just means a tight seal and they have food for much longer.

The real issues of this plan is that Aang might see and become upset or that no one will want to trade meat. But truly, he doesn’t know if anything else will be accepted. He needs a normal item to argue with, because Suishō seemed too stubborn to take anything that she would consider difficult to acquire.

He makes it back to the village by the sunrise, turning towards the normal homes instead of where his siblings are sleeping. If he can, he’ll see if he can trade for currency and use that for the rest of the items. He’ll need to see if Suishō knows where to go for that.

If she’s even out today. He has no idea if the traders all go in some pattern he hasn’t learned or if they come out every day or if they only come out when they have items. Would any have emptied their tables in a day? Maybe some of the food. Everyone needs food.

“Sokka, right?”

He snaps upright, standing away from the tree he’d been leaning on. The warrior who spoke the day before stands before him, though with much more distance than the first time they’d met. He frowns. If the villagers are still in their homes, then why would the warrior be in the village? Surely they would patrol the territory’s borders or be sleeping themselves.

“Yes, that’s me. Is something wrong?”

“No, I was going to ask you that.” She tilts her head, posture tense and eyes narrowed in a way he recognizes: caution. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I’m always up at this time.”

“And why not wait in the house or train in the dojo?”

He doesn’t know what either of those places are, so he ignores the question.

“Are the rest of your team patrolling still?

“What do you mean?”

Never mind. Wrong question.

He sees a villager walk out of their home, and he thanks every Spirit watching him that it’s Suishō. He needs it.

“I have to go speak to someone. La’s blessing to you.”

He nearly trips over his balance hurrying to the least strange person on this island. He still needs to work on that, but hunting gave him at least some of his normal skills back. He doesn’t trip while walking, even if he still struggles to do katas on earth.

Suishō seems very surprised when he approaches her, her eyes blinking with the haze of sleep. Perhaps that’s what the warrior meant. Maybe warmer temperatures means more sleep? Katara has been sleeping a bit more often, but he had attributed it to the travel. She prefers fishing to hunting, after all.

“Oh! Good morning, sir. Did you need something?”

“I-” He pauses. “It can wait if you are busy.” He doesn’t like the idea of having to be polite all the time to be considered respectful, but he can frame at least this as respecting her time and priorities.

“No, no. I just woke up, is all. A little tired, but I can talk. What is it?” He swallows, reaching down and holding up one of his kills.

“Would this be acceptable trade? You said I shouldn’t, but I can’t take so many supplies and give nothing back. I thought hunting might be acceptable, as food is, well, food.”

“Everyone does need food,” Suishō says, though her eyes are much wider now, and her thoughts are clearly elsewhere. “That’s a pretty big vole-rabbit. I don’t think most get that big.”

He bites the inside of his bottom lip. He will not say what just came to mind. He will keep that tightly locked away. Sokka is many things, but he is not stupid enough to say everything he thinks. No matter what his sister thinks, he has enough of a verbal filter to avoid saying everything.

“Is it worth something, then?”

Suishō suddenly looks at him with suspicion. He freezes, suspicious of the suspicion. What did she notice?

“How many of these did you hunt?”

“Only four.”

“Only four?”

“Yes? Four seemed a decent start to trade with.”

“Four is a very good start if they’re all about this size or even half of it. You could sell these for more than enough, especially if they can salvage the pelts. Traders seem to go wild for it, not that I know why.”

He pulls the pelt away enough to show her that it is, in fact, salvaged. This must be what Kitchi once said about how most warm-air folk like to split skills where the tribe splits tasks. Even the youngest child knows that kills are harvested for everything they can be as soon as there aren’t predators trying to steal them.

“You skinned them already? How good is- Never mind, you’re from one of the tribes. I’ll point out Sango to you, and you can show her what you have. She’ll pay a fair price for them. I will warn you, however, that Ruri followed through and told everyone that your team needs supplies. I doubt most of us will accept any coin you give.”

He nods. That fits what she said the day before. But this Sango will be able to help him at least prepare for a different village, one where maybe Aang can keep his nature a secret.

“Very well. Is there a better time for me to-” Suishō starts walking away, waving one hand in a gesture to follow. He swallows down a sigh and does. He’s starting to think that he’s met Katara’s equal in stubbornness.

They walk to the other side of the village, to one of the houses closest the statue. It seems a little more sensible, with the outside wooden area full of treated bags instead of the weird cloth of most things on the island. There’s even a branch hanging on the left of the door, barren of leaves and with strips of bark halfway carved off.

A good signal system if he’s ever seen one.

Suishō knocks on the door, smiling at Sokka when he shifts awkwardly on his feet. He doesn’t know what to expect from this new person, besides that she’ll apparently know the value of pelts and meat.

The woman who comes to the door is almost an Elder. Her hair is that same brown as most of the people here, lighter than his own people’s. Unlike Suishō, however, this woman has streaks of ash-white, and her face bears the creases of age. He hopes that, unlike the other Elder, they are also of wisdom.

“Suishō, what brings you by so early?”

“Oh, please, Sango, we both know you wake with the sun no matter the season.”

“True,” the woman concedes, “but you don’t. Is there a reason for this visit or did you just come to annoy me?”

“I was wondering if you could appraise something for me. Well, for the Avatar’s guard.”

Guard? He’s a warrior, sure, but Aang’s his brother and tribe member. If anything, Sokka’s the strategist or navigator.

“Oh? I’m listening.”

Suishō gestures for him to move forward, and he does, once again lifting the vole-rabbit up. Sango’s eyes widen, though not nearly as much or as long as Suishō. Clearly, this new villager is familiar with hunting, or at least the harvests of it.

“May I?” He hands her the kill, hoping that’s what she means. She doesn’t correct him, nor give any sign that he did what she didn’t expect, so he settles his shoulders and steps back. A proper hunter needs space to investigate a carcass.

The woman turns the meat over, inspecting the pelt and pulling it up enough to check the separation. She hums as she pokes at various pieces, even testing the line it’s hanging from. Finally, she looks back up at him, eyes narrowed as she starts inspecting him instead.

“You catch this?”

“I caught four. I intend to trade them.”

“You’ll get more out of selling them, but I suppose you could manage with trade,” she mutters, still running her eyes over his form. “Where did you learn how to skin an animal like this?”

“How to skin a rodent or how to skin an animal?”

“The latter.”

“He’s of the Water Tribes, Sango,” Suishō answers for him, putting a hand at his elbow. “He considers four a small number to hunt.”

“Well, they hunt more than fish, though fish feed them, too. I heard you mostly hunt the big things, like wolves and bears and those big blobs of meat. What are they, walri or something?”

“Walruses and seals, yes. They have blubber and are good for food and fuel, amongst other things.” He pauses, thinking hard. “Is meat not as valuable for warm-air folk?”

“Warm-air folk. Haven’t heard that in a long time. But warm means the meat spoils faster, sure. Doesn’t matter if it’s as fresh as this. Doesn’t even look like the bugs have gotten it yet. When’d you catch these?”

“Yesterday, after midday and before the sunset. I stored them in a cave and set deterrents.”

“Good. Not many of the young folk ‘round these parts even know how to track properly. What’cha trading for? We’ll get you narrowed to four easy enough.”

“I don’t know about that, Sango.” Sokka peers at Suishō. Is she trying to sabotage him or help him? He’s getting very conflicting signs.

“Why’s that? I know Ruri talked about helping the Avatar, but the kid wants to trade. He can do that.”

“Most of us wouldn’t want to take something worth so much. I can think of at least three people too stubborn to let him give them anything, even gratitude.”

Sango sighs, running her fingers over the vole-rabbit’s pelt. Her eyes go distant. It’s a welcome sight; he hasn’t seen it for some time, as most of the Elders of their tribe stopped seeing far in exchange for helping teach the adults what skills they lacked.

Her eyes snap back, latching onto Sokka’s own gaze with an intensity he isn’t used to from Elders. He supposes she isn’t yet an Elder, so she likely still has the ‘vigor of youth’, as Gran-Gran puts it.

“You don’t know much about money, do you?”

He frowns, searching a pocket for the pouch he’d brought just in case. It’s not that full, but he hands it over anyways, because it’s something.

“I have this, and I know this is currency, but you are right that I haven’t used money myself.”

“But you don’t know about selling and buying and all that, right? Just trading?”

Shit. She was picking up on that, huh? Well, no point lying.

“Just trading, yeah. I can learn if I need.”

“You’ll need. We trade, but most places won’t. They want copper, silver, or gold. Some places’ll take bronze, but that’s few and far between. Suishō, count this. I gotta weigh this.”

Suishō takes the pouch as the other woman walks inside with the carcass, nodding and opening it curiously. He knows there isn’t much in there, but he’s not entirely sure he wants any numbers just yet. Still, Sango is likely right to have it counted. Better to know what they’re working with than for him to be comfortable.

“This is actually a decent amount. Do you not know what the coins are?”

“Uh, not really. I know that there’s different types, but that’s about it. That’s what my people have from before we stopped getting traders and such. I wasn’t even alive when it was still being used.”

“Really? That long ago?”

“It was only a few decades,” he reasons. “History is much longer.” He would know. He and Katara love stories, especially those of places and times beyond what they grew up with.

Suishō stays quiet at that, and he lets her. She seems to have lost track of the conversation to focus on counting, which he understands. Especially with the fiddly little items in the pouch, which all seem to look the same and are nearly impossible to tell apart. He had asked his grandmother, and all she said was that she knows the coldest one is the middle one.

He wonders if that, too, will change. After all, if Gran-Gran knows the metals from use, she likely knows only the normal feelings of them. She might not even have experienced warm air, and certainly not handled money in such a place. She said she travelled over as directly as she could, and still managed to fall in love with his grandfather in that time.

He wishes he could’ve properly met his father’s father. Stories are good, but he would’ve gotten along with the man. Maybe he’d even have someone who also thinks weird and gets focused on some things when he should be focusing on other things.

“Alright. I’ll give you a quick summary.” He snaps to attention. Suishō smiles at him, though something in her eyes is a bit strained. “Unless I miscounted, two hundred thirty-six copper. Here, I don’t think this is meant to be here. Where did you get coins if you don’t use them, if I might ask?”

“The tribe used to trade, so we would sometimes use currency. That’s what’s left from those days.” He accepts the little coin, wondering at what makes it different if it looks almost exactly the same, and tucks it away neatly.

“Well, the rates most everyone uses is fifteen copper for a silver, and you have fourteen silver. Did your people usually do large trades when you used currency?”

“Yeah, I think so. We bought for the whole village at once. No point doing it otherwise.”

Suishō hums, nodding as if that confirms something she didn’t say. She carefully closes and folds the opening of the pouch, handing it back without another word.

They wait for a moment, the village slowly starting to get noisier as more people wake up. The Sun fully rises over the horizon, turning the darkness of the trees into more of a dim presence.

“I’ll take the rest of those rabbits, boy. I got a price worked out. You willing to use coins or still want to trade?” Sango comes out, holding a strange little bag that appears to be made out of what they make their clothes from.

“If that is what most people use, then I’ll use it.”

“Good. The rabbits?”

He hands over the kills, Suishō blinking as he uncovers them from their place on his belt. He smiles at her as he brushes the covering back down. He’s never felt awkward about the little piece of sealskin, but now he realizes that anyone who doesn’t hunt wouldn’t know about deterring birds. Seems he’ll be hunting alone for a long while to come. Probably until they get to the North, really.

Sango hands over the little bag, and he takes the moment to run his fingers over it. The cloth is very rough, but in a much smaller way than wool, and not like treated skins. More like it was very rough before even being spun, or maybe that the strands are much thinner and therefore the roughness is the same but with less space between the patches.

Inside, he sees even more coins, though mostly just two colors. He has no idea how many, but at least he knows that if there’s numbers, he can count them.

“That should last you a few villages, if you spare it some. Hunting’ll help, but rice’s a bought thing for most.”

“Thank you,” he says, reaching his arm out. He’s pleased to find out that the woman knows how to grasp forearms.

“Not a problem. Those vole-rabbits’ll be useful, and you got something to pay for things. Now go let Suishō help you ‘round the market. Before you ask, that’s the tables everywhere. Markets are where you buy and sell things, and sometimes you can trade.”

He nods once, trying to convey his understanding in that move alone. He wasn’t actually going to ask, but she doesn’t need to know that. She probably doesn’t need to know a lot of what’s going through his mind.

~

The day passes much more quickly than he’s used to.

Not just the rise and rest of the Sun, even if that still seems odd. Moreso is the fact that Suishō has so much information, so many people for him to meet, and so many ideas of what resources he should get to resupply. Most of it is decent advice or information, but some cause him confusion, surprise, or plain denial. He might be willing to get rice, but he will not be getting fruit that the woman says lasts a bit longer than other fruit. He will be getting dried fruit and nothing else.

She was right, though, regarding how many take the coins from him. Most don’t want more than one or two of the copper, and even then seem to be doing it to humor him. He sighs a lot during the buying process, and is just glad that he’s able to practice some before they inevitably have to leave.

The entire day, he also sees Katara and Aang. They chat with new people, explore the fancier goods, and seem to have a much better time than they must’ve had yesterday. Several times, he sees people approach, especially a group of children who all stare at Aang intently, but they always back off after a few words. If they were swarming the day before, no wonder Katara was upset.

At least they aren’t doing that today.

By the time the villagers start packing up their stalls, he has more than enough supplies. It takes a while to load them onto Appa, but he manages, especially with the bison so pleased to be free of loose fur and so pleased to get a few of the fruits Suishō gave him. Against his protests, of course. He wonders if that’s because he’s with Aang or because she would do it for anyone or because she sees him as a child. Or maybe she just likes him well enough.

“Hey, Sokka, we’re gonna go eat dinner. Come in soon, okay?” He turns, giving his sister a slight nod before going right back to work.

He feels her gaze stick to him, not leaving even as he can see Aang walk into the building.

“I hear you. Come in before the Sun fully sets and eat and meditate.”

She hums, leaving. He smiles to himself. He loves his sister, even if she’s annoying a lot. He remembers when he was younger, he always hated her nagging, but then realized she just couldn’t tell when a little nod means he hears her and is busy or a little nod means he is pretending to hear her because he’s busy.

Sometimes he doesn’t even know until she waits. It’s a lot easier to say something when she just stands there.

He might get some fruit for them, if only for her to have a treat. Or maybe just ask what was her favorite food from that first day. He didn’t really like them, but he’s not used to so much sweet stuff. She seemed to like the food more than him.

Or maybe she just ate stuff because Aang was so eager to share.

He hums to himself, carefully tucking away the last of the supplies, and jumps down. Appa grunts at him, so he grunts back, patting the bison’s head and starting the trek inside.

Up stairs, down the little hall, through the door. Katara smiles as she settles into her meditative pose, nodding at the little plate of food left for him. He smiles back, and waves at Aang as the boy hops over to join the meditation.

Food is finished quick, and he joins in only a few minutes, finishing the circle. It should always be a circle, he thinks, then stops thinking because he needs to meditate.

Katara taps him to tell him to sleep, though her eyes are warning. Be careful, they say, meaning that Aang might notice if he doesn’t sleep tonight. He doesn’t know how she always knows when he plans to forgo the ‘sleep’ he gets, but she does.

She’s paying more attention, too. Something must have happened, but she’s not worried. Nothing bad, then.

With little talking, they all lay down to sleep.

~

The tea is gone.

For each of the meals they have, there is tea. Aang has a cup or two, but Katara prefers water, and so he gets to take the little pot and carry it to his area and drink it before sleep. Part of that is an excuse to get up earlier - even Aang can’t argue about the body’s natural processes. The other part is that he really enjoys the feeling that fills him when he drinks it, and that same feeling helps him go to sleep when he normally feels it unnecessary for more than keeping Katara placated.

Each night, he’s placed the two pots and the cup on the table.

Now, on the third day, he had put the pot of tea from breakfast next to his bed, gone to check on Appa, and had come back up to test that feeling to see the actual factors in its existence.

Instead, he stares at the lack of it on the floor.

Someone must’ve gotten annoyed at him, then. He sighs. No testing for him, then. Darn. He really did enjoy that feeling.

He turns around and nearly draws his weapon.

The warrior leader - Suki, he found out - stands in the door, eyes narrowed at him. Her lips are pressed together and her hands are at her sides in fists. Something is wrong, then.

“Did you need something?”

“Yes.”

He waits. There are no other words. He waits some more.

She turns around, walking back down the hall. Just before the stairs, she looks back.

“You coming?” He does, because he’s curious. He hadn’t realized that she preferred action to words, but he understands it. Words can be tricky, like setting a trap, whereas action is simple. Like a club. Or boomerang.

She leads the way down the stairs, through other hallways, and to a large open space that seems to be for training. There are several other warriors, all practicing with their weapons. Some look over when the two walk in, but most don’t pay much mind to them.

“C’mon, back here.” He keeps following, until they make it through another door, which has a large piece of metal polished to reflect, several seats, and little boxes scattered about.

He raises an eyebrow at her, because they’ve come to an end of doors and halls. She stares at him very hard, as though expecting him to read her mind and confused he hasn’t.

“We are the Kyoshi Warriors.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“We have a rule because of her: no boys allowed.”

“And you brought me here to…” he trails off, implying a question the best he can. She glares fully now.

“What do you think of our group?”

That’s a complicated question. He thinks they’re good at combat, but not in the way he knows. They’re trained for fighting people, whereas he was trained to fight anything that might attack him, even ice. The warriors are built for the earth, and he is built for the water.

What does he think of them?

The warrior seems suspicious, yes, but not disrespectful. In fact, it more seems that this odd situation is her trying to be respectful instead of assuming his thoughts and getting upset at him for her own assumptions. They had accepted that the group was on that beach for fun and not any other reason. Hell, those warriors had the drop on him. They could’ve just overtaken the three, but chose to reveal themselves instead.

“You’re a respectable group. You fit the island well.”

“And?”

What? He has nothing more to say!

“And?” he echoes, very confused.

“Nothing about us being girls? Nothing about our skills?”

“Uh, I’m glad you have them? What are you expecting me to say?”

“Your people don’t have female warriors.”

Ah.

Well, that’s changed, but how would she know.

“I am the only Warrior of Tradition left. It means that I am the only one trained in that way, with the idea that there will be none left fighting in the village should I fall. I am glad that you have warriors, no matter who they are or where they come from.”

She stares for a moment, face unchanging. He wonders what’s going on in her mind, but she hasn’t seemed violent or even aggressive. In fact, she seems like she knew that he wasn’t like she thought, but didn’t know how exactly he was different.

“You’re learning how to be one of us.”

“No boys allowed?” Wasn’t that one of the very first things she said?

“That’s plural. We can have one.”

“Okay… so I’m not given a choice in be-”

“No.”

“Okay.”

She stares more. He has no idea what she wants from him.

Eventually, she moves. It’s to shove him into a seat, before promptly going to all the little boxes and starting to open some. He wonders why, until she starts pulling out paints.

And then comes to him with a small cloth that he finds out is damp when it’s used on his face.

“That won’t work.”

“Yeah, I’m noticing. How do you get your paint off?”

He pulls out the little ivory tool, holding it up to his face and beginning the process. He’s fortunate that the paints he put on are already fading, so the removal is not nearly as long as it could be. His first time was to learn the technique, and he remembers vividly how long that took to get the freshly applied paint off his face.

Suki watches him intently, eyes tracking the movement of his hands. He truly has no idea why she’s acting like this. They’ve only interacted a few times, and very minimally. There was the beach, of course, and the stuff that followed. Then there was the day before, where she talked to him but he left quickly out to avoid the conversation.

“There. Should be gone.”

“You don’t use a reflection?”

“No? Most reflections will blind you. On the ice, I mean,” he adds. He keeps forgetting none of these people know how ice works.

She hums, low in her throat like she doesn’t want him to hear it. Sokka watches as she turns away again, this time grabbing other items from their boxes and setting them down around. This must be where they dress in their gear and paint, which is why she decided to bring him here.

She starts to warm something in her hands, and he settles his shoulders so he’ll be able to hold still. Hopefully she’s as skilled applying the paint of these warriors to others as she is to herself.

“You nearly tripped the other day.”

“I’ve done so many times.”

“Yeah, but you seemed like you were about to keel over, not just trip on a rock.”

“Well, we don’t have rocks, do we?”

She considers that, tilting her head as she finishes rubbing whatever weird substance she had over most of his face. He didn’t even realize that Suki had paid that much attention to him over the past few days, but perhaps he wasn’t paying her as much attention as he should’ve.

“What’s the difference? Between rock and ice, that is.”

“The ground here doesn’t move, except on the sand or when things get wet. Ice moves a lot, and snow moves, too. Not to mention that you gotta be able to avoid the cracks and holes that you don’t see. My balance changes and I trip because the earth doesn’t.”

“We’ll work on that. You ca- Stop moving!”

He does not stop moving. She’s bringing a brush near his face. He is not a weapon, no matter what Katara says, and he is not in need of any repairs.

“I would prefer to not have that touch my face.”

“Can you not touch brushes?”

“You’re gonna put it on my face.”

There’s a moment where they just stare, Sokka on his guard and Suki just seeming confused.

“Yes. We use brushes to apply our paint. Don’t you?”

Brushes.

For paint.

On their faces.

“No.”

“Just your hands?”

“Yes.”

Suki glares at him, all the sternness of a mother in her posture. Huffing, she reaches to steady his face, though the brush doesn’t move from her side.

“I’m going to use the brush. It’s just got paint on it, okay? Hold. Still.”

He waits for her to get just before his skin, then dodges out of the way. She growls, and he can’t help it.

He laughs, grinning at just how quickly the warrior lost her temper with him. He knows he’s annoying, but he didn’t realize it applied to anyone outside the tribe.

“Oh, you find this funny?”

“I find your reactions funny, yes. Why do you have to use a brush? Just tell me how to apply it if you don’t want to use your hands, but I have never used a brush for anything that breathes.”

She huffs again, jaw clenching as she looks him up and down. Then, very suddenly, her posture loosens. Her stance shifts wider, shoulders going down and back, and her hands drop completely. He frowns at it, mostly due to how it just happened instead of her taking a breath or a step back.

“Want to learn?”

Fuck, she’s good. He had seen her as a leader, had seen how she can remain respectful, but this is much different. This is her figuring out his weakness and using it against him, all while giving away nothing of how she found it.

“Learn what?” he asks, though her smirk says that she already knows she guessed right.

“How to use brushes. We use them often, and you’re gonna be a Kyoshi Warrior after this.”

“You seem very determined for me to join your warriors.”

“You seem very determined to not interact with us.”

“I haven’t had a chance.”

“The warrior has no chance to even glance at a village’s protection?”

“I saw you the first day and you spoke to me yesterday.”

“Yes, but you still don’t know how we fight.”

He frowns harder.

“I suppose there’s a point there. If you’re that stubborn-”

“I am.”

“-then I might as well go along with it. No harm learning a new style.”

Suki smiles at him. He wonders if he’ll regret giving in.

~

He does not regret it. Not one bit.

The paints are odd, yes, and he really doesn’t understand why she uses a brush until he feels how thin the paint is. Then he doesn’t understand why they don’t just make better paints. He doesn’t say that one.

He’s given a set of their gear. It’s more gear than he usually wears, and much bulkier than he assumed it would be. However, instead of it weighing him down too much, he finds that it is similar to the stones that are sewn into his tribe’s hems. When he moves, it helps him maintain his balance.

Well, maintain it better. He still stumbles a few times, learning the katas that the island’s warriors use.

After the third time, Suki steps around him, setting her feet and lowering her weight in the stance.

“Here.” She presses her palms down on his arms, lowering them, before pushing on his shoulders. He straightens, rolling his shoulders and opening his stance to a more restful one.

“Good. Now, focus on your feet. How do they rest on the floor? How does the wood beneath them feel? Imagine that there’s a line running through your body and out of your feet. That is anchoring you to the ground. When you move, it moves with you.”

“Like an ice pick, then.” He glances at her face, and explains better. “You stab it into the ice, and as long as you have strength, it won’t let you move.”

“Then exactly like an ice pick.” Suki takes several steps back, changing her stance into an offensive one. “Hold your footing.”

He does. Not perfectly, of course, but enough that he recovers every imbalance, and Suki moves him on to learning with the actual weapons. She’s a good teacher, both of him and of her warriors. She picks out the issues in stances and actions easily, and she puts him in combat with her warriors with instructions he barely understands at first, but that leads to him learning much more.

The style is very different. It’s very interesting because of that, but also very odd. Each move is as adaptable as his own techniques, but in a much different way. More… more individual. Even fighting in tandem would be individuals moving as one, using the skills they have and covering weaknesses of others.

Back on the ice, when he used to hunt with the men, it was a group. The group was one, and instead of individuals becoming a group, it was a group with only one member. Opposite, but still useful. As individuals, the Kyoshi Warriors - of which the young women keep insisting he is, too - are aware of their weaknesses and keep those far from their opponents. As a group, his own people have no weaknesses because he knows what roles must be filled, he’s merely filling them alone.

“Focus, Sokka!”

He dodges the attack coming from behind him, and blinks at Suki. He’s been fighting fine, hasn’t he? At least, she hasn’t corrected him in an hour, and the other warriors seem to be in the same rhythm he is.

“I am?”

“Your eyes aren’t on your enemies.”

“Because that’s poor thinking. If I focus only on the enemies I see, then I die.”

Every warrior in hearing of him stops to stare. So that’s not a good thing to say. He might need to adjust his verbal filter for warm-air folk.

“Explain,” Suki frowns, folding her arms and nodding at him.

“A predator might fight alone, but that does not mean that others won’t come. If I hunt a wolf and it is hunted by an albatross-bear, then I could die because I thought the wolf was the only threat. We keep our eyes moving. Also helps if there’s a rat running off with your glove because tracking a moving target is easier when you track movement instead of the target.”

He dodges another attack from behind. This time, he sticks his foot out like they’d taught, and he’s very happy that he doesn’t fall. Instead, the other warrior trips, catches herself on her hands, and rights herself with a flip. He smiles at her, getting a rather shaky one in response.

“Very well. Start again.”

He did.

~

The Sun sets and he blinks in surprise at it. Sure, the rest of the warriors had left, apparently to go and prepare for sleep. Yes, Suki is the only one left in the dojo, and even she is not training as he is. But he didn’t realize how quickly time would pass when he was learning.

“You did good today.”

“I still don’t understand something.” She tilts her head at him, and it seems much more familiar after only a day than he would ever expect.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t get why you chose me. Even if you were actively looking for a boy to join the Warriors, I’m a traveller. I won’t be sticking around for long.”

He doesn’t expect an immediate response, and he doesn’t get one. Suki takes her time, and he appreciates that. She’s being honest if she does, at least from what he’s seen of her.

He watches the Sun instead. Agni has always been gone for half of the year and there the other half, but this is a different sort of presence. Like both Tui and Agni are watching him, taking turns to say hello. He likes it, even if he does miss home.

“Every time we came to get the dishes after meals, the tea was missing. I noticed you had it near your bed.” Odd answer, but he waits for more. She’ll make it make sense.

“You saw us on the beach, but you didn’t fear us. Instead, you tried to give us space, to respect that this is our home. You got upset, and you seemed to be judging our village, but then I saw you actually talking to people.” She glances at his face, and it must show his confusion.

She sighs, straightens herself, and keeps going.

“See, we know of the Water Tribes somewhat. We’ve heard about your culture from afar. One of the things that everyone seemed certain of is that you don’t have any females fighting or hunting or carrying a weapon. So when my team saw you, we assumed you were judging us. That you didn’t view us as equals.

But you spoke to the merchants all the same, and you hunted alone. When you met Sango, you treated her as an equal, even though she’s a woman. She’s a hunter and that didn’t surprise you. I know now that you don’t have a reason to care. You don’t know some things that we find normal, and maybe everything I heard about the Water Tribes was the North, or maybe it’s all just wrong.

I didn’t like that I assumed wrong, especially because you avoided talking to me more out of being awkward than anything. You aren’t good with us ‘warm-air folk’, are you?”

“Not really.” He doesn’t say more. She nods with understanding anyways.

“I thought as much. And I realized that you think more highly of my warriors than we did of you, but you don’t think highly of yourself.”

“I thi-”

“Shut up.” He does. The tone is the same as Katara’s when she knows he’ll be dodging the truth. “I can read you well enough to know this. I might not know much more, and I don’t understand you all that well, but I know you look everywhere but at yourself. So I decided to test your reaction to being a member of an all-female group, and you only denied it because you think more highly of us than yourself, so why would you join us? It’s just that reason that my team agreed to let you join.”

“So you did discuss this with them.”

“I discuss everything with them.” She smiles, before looking away.

Looking to the Sun.

“Listen, Sokka, I know that I misjudged you, and most of that was that you’re so damn confusing. But I also know that I’m seeing you properly now. You listened to me, and you learned, and you saw no issue with wearing feminine clothes. If there’s any boy I want to be a Kyoshi Warrior, it’s a boy who is unapologetically going to not care. Not care about opinions, not care about who judges him, not care about anything but protecting what’s his.”

“It sounds big when you talk like that.”

“You nearly killed my governor. I think I’m allowed to talk big.”

“Who’s your governor?”

Suki laughs outright, shoving his shoulder. Her face says she believes he doesn’t know, and that makes it funnier, not less so.

Just as she opens her mouth to answer, they both are distracted.

“Firebenders have landed on our shores! Girls, come quickly!”

Sokka blinks at the foolish Elder, but moves forward with Suki. She waits a moment at the door, questioning.

“That’s the governor?”

~

They arrive in the shadows, using the trees as cover. The other Warriors are all scattered amongst the buildings, on top or behind, hidden from sightlines. Suki leads him to the side of one, pulling back just enough to hide their eyes behind a support.

The Fire Nation, it seems, has arrived. And, at the head of massive creatures with horns and thick tails, is the Fire Prince. Based on the very loud shouting, they’re looking for the Avatar.

Sokka covers Suki’s back when she goes to knock the Fire Prince from a beast, deflecting the fire with his tessen. She dives under his guard, jumping to kick the firebender center of chest. Immediately after, Sokka grabs the back of her armor and lunges backwards, helping drag her out of the way of more attacks.

Fire starts to spread across the buildings. Homes. Sango and Suishō and Ruri and so many other people who just live their lives. A whole village suffering in one minute of combat.

The fire feels hot, but it’s never run as hot as his blood when he bends. He runs behind the buildings, all the way to the end where Sango first answered the door.

Agni might fuel fire, but the Sun chose Sokka.

With a deep breath, he prays.

Agni. Agni, your people don’t know who they hurt. Do not let this fire touch the inside. Do not let the villagers be harmed. Let it scorch the wood and char the ground, but do not let it past the walls.

He opens his eyes immediately, deflecting a blast of fire from another firebender. With a growl, he leaps forward, pushing off the beast’s shoulder and knocking the rider clean off. He grabs the reins, steering the beast back towards the shore they must’ve come from.

“Get!” he shouts as he jumps off. He must’ve guessed right, because the beast takes off, and a few others follow, all riderless.

Suki drags him behind a house. He knows it’s her because he can see most of the Warriors busy fighting the firebenders and the others retreating to slip around again. She followed him, then.

“Hey, you need to leave. Aang is in danger here.”

“Your people-”

“Will have us. Your sister and the Avatar only have you.”

He growls again, because he hates the feeling on his skin. It’s as though anger hangs around him, clinging to him like the humidity of the island. The fire still burns, but if he trusts Agni… He does. He has to trust the Sun.

He moves to hand the tessen to her, but she shakes her head, pushing them back.

“You’re one of us now, remember?”

“I shouldn’t be. There’s so much you don’t know, Suki.” And he can’t exactly tell her now, when her home has been attacked with fire for merely hosting his family.

“I know. But I hope I get to learn someday.”

He blinks at the sudden sensation, touching it with a finger. She doesn’t wait for his response, pulling away and preparing to rush into the battle.

“Now get out of here! We'll hold them off.”

He does. He doesn’t want to, but he does. Appa waits, fully prepared to take off, and the bison does as soon as Sokka touches the saddle. Aang steers them away, back towards the shore they arrived on.

The Fire Nation follows. Aang jumps off. Katara is worried, and Sokka holds her shoulder because he knows the boy has thought of something. Sure enough, the water serpent of his dreams pulls up, ridden by the airbender, and sprays enough water to put out the fire. Then Aang is back in the saddle somehow, and they are flying off again.

Sokka touches his cheek again. There’s nothing coming off on his fingers. He knows there won’t be, but…

Suki kissed him.

Suki. Kissed him.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” He puts his hand down, moving to grab the map and start navigation. It doesn’t focus him like it usually does, even as he manages to do it properly. He doesn’t know if he wants to focus.

He had noticed she’s pretty. Not well, but he knew. He’d certainly noticed she’s strong and graceful and competent. He knows because he did think about that. But he’s never considered- He was only ever gonna-

There are no people he’d even thought of like that back home. Maybe in passing, but that was growing up, experiencing physical things but not taking them seriously. He can easily put the feelings towards Siqniq in a category of what his body felt but his mind didn’t.

Suki, though…

He never thought he might have someone. There has never been hope of it, never been chance. He couldn’t think about it, even, because he had to focus on his people. And now, he’s thinking about it.

“Katara?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you bring my Marks?”

He’s never been happy his sister went behind his back in his life, and yet he can’t help grinning when she holds her chin high in stubbornness and points at the bag.

“Hey, Katara?”

“Yes?”

They land in a place that Sokka can only describe as very green.

Now, he knows that other nations have more plants. He’s used to hearing that warmth equals plants and animals everywhere. He and Katara grew up hearing stories about every place in the world, about the humidity of the coasts and the heat of most lands, and of the way the Sun and Moon don’t take turns watching half the year, but instead switch every twelve hours.

That does not prepare him for what they experience when Appa lands in a place that Aang had called a ‘meadow’.

The ground underfoot is softer than ice but doesn’t move. There are the normal browns and greys and blacks that plants usually have, but there is more green than anything. Katara, always the more bold of the two, immediately kneels and feels the green beneath their feet, which resembles fur if fur was less hair and more leaf.

“It’s soft!”

“What?” He follows her, letting the thin plants touch his hands and gauging what he can.

What he finds is something malleable, soft like coarse fur but without the stiffness. The strands appear connected in roots, but not elsewhere. They’re so many different colors even though they’re all green. Some are darker, clearly full of water, and some are pale and yellow in places, drying out.

“Oh, have you guys never left the South Pole?”

“No, we haven’t.” Katara’s voice is tight in a way that he knows means she’s overwhelmed in a good way. “We didn’t know there were so many plants here.”

“Well, this is jus- I mean, this is grass!” Aang obviously adds more excitement to his words as he realizes the reaction that the siblings are having.

“It’s everywhere, then?”

“Well, yeah, but this is a really good patch. Some are all scratchy and dry, but it can survive in a lot of places, and meadows usually have really good grass.”

“What’s a meadow? What else is here?”

“Uhm…”

Sokka stands, pulling Katara to her feet and putting her hand on Aang’s wrist. Then he grabs the opposite side’s shoulder, and points at one of the bushes, full of vibrant green and pink.

“Lead us around. All we need is to know what we’re seeing.”

“Okay!”

And Aang does. They don’t manage to make camp properly for some time, but even Sokka doesn’t mind. There are so many new words, new plants, new foods. The colors are so different, and a meadow is a place with lots of colors and space and surrounded by the trees in a safe place.

He notes to himself that they should always try to find meadows to land in.

When Aang starts yawning, the two siblings remember that it’s time to sleep, and quickly help him get a bedroll out. They set up around him, though Sokka insists they keep it small. Katara is asleep almost as quickly as Aang.

They haven’t meditated the past few times they had planned, but they can start again tomorrow. As is, Sokka tries to gather what he can from the area around them, noting what was said to be edible and committing the plants to memory. He wonders if he should get some grass to bring along. He could ask Aang tomorrow, but perhaps not when the kid needs some sleep.

After all, he wasn’t asleep for a hundred years; he was in dream-but-real, put there by whatever keeps the Avatar alive.

Sokka hopes that doesn’t hurt his new brother. He’d like to keep the kid for at least a half-year. Regardless, though, he’ll do his best to protect all three of them.

~

The boat is wood, but not the right type. Built like the monsters that ate so much of his home, but lacking the weight of metal. It does nothing to help in a storm.

The storm that rages, rages around them and passes that to the waves. Water splashes up on the boat, filling it up no matter how fast he tries to empty it. He is swept overboard, tossed by the railing but surely going to fall.

Appa’s saddle is not yet a memory, but it’s going to be, and here he is. The storm is raging, but the bison is not the source of its wrath. The beast dodges lightning and ignores wind with the ease of a bird. Sokka holds on, only to be pulled off by something that tries to push Appa upside-down, tries to send the creature diving into the sea.

Sokka hits the water, sees nothing but blue and black and black-blue. Something grabs him, arms if arms were ropes. He is pulled along, the water trying to stop him, trying to drag him away and out of the grip.

His head breaks the top of the water, and the storm is gone. He’s dropped on a coast, on pale dirt that has broken into ash and dust, sticking to his skin. The creature that saved him dives back down, and he can only guess what it was. Long and sleek and gone in seconds.

He stares up at a grand wooden statue, a totem with only one focus. The top is adorned with a woman, dressed in green and yellow and with a face of red and white and black.

The statue turns to stone, set into the ground instead. He is in a room, now, stone upon stone upon stone. The statue before him changes to a man, old and covered in heavy clothes, only made heavier by being made stone instead of cloth.

The statue changes again, to an Aang but much older. Then it disappears, and instead it’s Aang, laughing and riding a sphere of pure air, a small lithe creature on his shoulders. White and orange and the colors of warmth.

Someone calls his name. He turns, and he’s in a room of red and black. Fire burns all around, and he’s running down the halls, trying to find something.

A serpent, covered in fur and with the whiskers of a cat drooping down, is blocking him. Sokka isn’t looking for this, but the creature is important. It has legs and isn’t a serpent, but it-

The face moves closer, eyes meeting his with an intensity that shakes him. The creature is gone when he blinks, and there stands a Spirit in blue and black and black-blue, beckoning him to come, to follow.

He takes a step-

He’s in a huge village of ice-

He’s eating a feast with a Spirit-

There’s warmth but ice, water and light swirling and twisting and ang ry-

Sokka jolts awake. The scream had felt so real, so loud, but before his eyes is the meadow they’ve slept in. It doesn’t change when he blinks, nor when he stands, moves, touches Appa’s fur and the grass and stares off at the way the world is dark but the Sun is rising, switching with his sister.

A sunrise, in the time of the Midnight Sun.

He sighs. He never thought he’d be anywhere but the South Pole, never outside his village and the walls that keep it safe. He won’t trade his home for anything, but he thinks that seeing more sunrises will be nice.

With another, deeper sigh, he moves to wake the younger two. Both wake with little want to listen and much more interest in sleeping.

“Katara, meditation. It’s sunrise. We should start using that.”

“You guys meditate?”

Sokka frowns. Gran-Gran has always acted like meditation is just a part of what one does if they’re a bender.

“Yeah, we’ve done it for years. You can join if you want.” Katara yawns wide enough to crack her jaw directly after the words finish, before she goes to sit a short ways from the camp. Sokka joins, keeping silent, and watches as Aang flops down into a sitting position to complete a small circle with them.

“How long?”

“About an hour. You don’t have to do it all, but we do it every twelve hours. I think we’ll start doing it with the day transitions, since those exist out here.” Aang tilts his head, which usually means confusion, so Sokka just closes his own eyes and sets his hands into the proper position.

The flow of thoughts he doesn’t touch ends when Katara nudges him, and he stands up without question. Meditation is quieter in his mind than for Katara, from what their talks show, and that often means he’s as reluctant to leave meditation as she is to wake up.

“C’mon, we packed up.”

“Thank you.” He appreciates more time where he can get it, and he’ll likely appreciate it even more when they’re being chased by the Fire Nation at every turn.

They hop into Appa’s saddle, with Aang steering, and Sokka signals to his sister that he needs to think. She nods, engaging the airbender in conversation immediately after.

The dream he had feels like the ones that always mean more than he can figure out. Doesn’t mean he can’t try, though, so he does.

A boat, maybe of the Earth Kingdom, given that it was wood instead of metal. The storm was different than the ones he knows, but it was a storm in a warmer place. No ice, no snow. It was cold because of wind, not the area, so that means most certainly not at the Poles.

Appa rescued him, and then some creature. It looked like an eel, but had whiskers like the serpent that came after. Perhaps two different serpents, one of water and one of fire? The second had certainly been in a much warmer place, a place with the blood-red that the Fire Nation wears. The second serpent hadn’t seemed an enemy, though, and he hadn’t felt fear.

There were statues, too. Someone of the Earth Kingdom, someone who wore their weight in clothes, and an Aang that was an adult. He doesn’t know who they are, and that part seems the least likely to be figured out before he arrives at the time he’s meant to understand.

Aang had had some little animal, white and quick and with long limbs despite the size. Someone had called, and then it was the fire. The Spirit seemed familiar, after that serpent, like…

He shakes his head to jostle his focus. He won’t find the words by thinking about them, that he knows.

The last part of the dream was so incredibly fast. Something urgent, perhaps? Most dreams were not fast, and he remembers that the ones that were had something to do with moving fast, doing things fast, figuring it out fast. An ice village larger than many of his own could be the North Pole. The feast with a Spirit had seemed to not change in temperature around him, so he could guess that it all takes place in the North, but he won’t put all his food in one basket.

That scream…

His stomach suddenly breaks his thought, reminding him he forgot to eat properly since the meal before training the kids. He pretends it doesn’t, because he’s dealt with worse, and unless he uses his fire or has to fight for hours, he’ll be fine until they land. Besides, Aang and Katara both ate the things he gathered while they slept, and that means that two of the three of them have been fed. That’s good enough for him.

Katara disagrees. She starts searching the moment the noise happens, and her face shows how little luck she’s had.

“Didn’t you bring food, Sokka?”

“You two ate a lot of it, remember?”

“I remember there was some jerky left over.”

“Oh, that was food?” Shit. “I used it to start the campfire last night. Sorry.”

Katara stares at Sokka so hard that he’s almost certain he’s about to freeze into a block of ice. He tries to very discreetly curl his head towards his stomach.

“Hey, stomach? If we want to get out of this unscathed, stay quiet.”

His stomach growls so loudly that Aang turns to look back, and Katara bites her lip. Whether she’s trying to not laugh or trying to not curse him into nonexistence, he truly doesn’t know, but instead of focusing on that, he turns away deliberately and starts probing Aang.

“So, you realize that most everyone is gone, right? They won’t be at the Temple, even if they technically could be. The Fire Nation would find them too easily.”

“Well, even so, I’m sure that someone will have left a way to find them! I’d know better than the Fire Nation, wouldn’t I?” The boy gasps before either sibling can respond, and points. “The Patola Mountain range! We’re almost there!”

Great. How bad is this gonna go? Maybe if they can find a distraction- no, that won’t work.

Well, the kid has to find out at some point. Better sooner than later. More time to let the grief settle properly.

Katara tries to continue the probing, as it only got a short ways, but Aang seems so sure that his home is fine. If only it was. If only the world had not been turned on its head a hundred years ago.

The Southern Air Temple is, of course, as grand as imagined, if not more. It’s all stone, built into the mountainside even more than some of the old caves were carved into the ice. Aang shows them around eagerly, but very quickly, the excitement begins to fade. The smile’s edges pull down further and further, until he’s frowning.

Being told it’s deserted and witnessing that firsthand is very different.

Spirits damn him, he can’t help himself, can he? He knows it’s better to let the kid figure it out fast, but here he is, about to do something contradictory.

“Hey, what’s this airball game? Can you teach me?”

What follows is a very enlightening game. Aang does, indeed, teach him how to play airball, but they realize quickly that there’s an issue.

“Wow. I thought you moved really fast? You were so good fighting that firebender!”

“I think it’s the wood. I grew up on ice and snow, and that gives way underneath you, y’know? You gotta learn to move and balance on it, and now nothing is moving.”

“Oh. Well, we don’t have to-”

Sokka points a finger in Aang’s face with force.

“We don’t get better by giving up! I would rather play a hundred rounds and lose them all than only play three and give up.”

“Right, I forgot. Don’t stop, right? You guys apply that to everything.” Aang smiles widely, shaking his head in amusement. “Guess I’ll go back to my side.”

Four games later, Sokka is only slightly better. Aang has decided to make things more fair and stay on one pole instead of hopping around, but it still doesn’t change that every attempt to move is met with that odd lack of slide.

Falling into the snow is not so bad, he supposes, when Aang is still cheering and Sokka has mildly improved his horrible balance. Katara, clearly aware of Sokka’s lack of complaining over hunger - very odd for him, he’ll admit, but he’s in a place Aang’s people were massacred - talks to Aang, redirecting them to a tour of the place.

He follows slowly, giving space, because his mind is struggling to jump over that hunger and the fact he’s in no fighting condition right now, and that means thoughts that Katara won’t like him having. At all. To the point she will freeze him in place over it.

He feels a sense of unease, and he thought that was just the lack of people. But he’s a hunter, and he’s only uneasy in places where he expects sound or movement and there is none. He hadn’t expected movement here, nor sound, and there are people with him.

But this place once held so many innocent souls. It held airbenders and nonbenders, nomads and monks and children. Then it held the Fire Nation, and everything ended there.

He’s a firebender in a place fire has hurt, and he shouldn’t be. But surely most places are hurt by fire nowadays? Even his own people are, and the stories always say how kind and nonviolent the Air Nomads were. Those souls wouldn’t believe that Sokka is bad. They would know what he’s been told by his tribe for years.

He pauses a moment away from the others, closing his eyes briefly. He is not bad. Benders wield elements but that does not make all benders bad, nor does it make the element bad. Sokka is allowed to be in the Temple as much as Aang allows. Aang wouldn’t judge him for being a firebender.

He rejoins them in front of a statue of a monk, old and in a meditative pose. Aang starts rambling about Gyatso, his Master and family, about pies and pranks, about so much good… and then quiet falls when those memories move aside. There is something in Aang’s past he still carries and hasn’t shared the burden of yet.

Katara exchanges a knowing glance with Sokka, moving to comfort the boy as he stares sadly at the statue. She guides the two away, and Sokka waits for them to be properly distracted. Then he carefully holds the arm of the man who raised Aang to be so joyful.

“Sorry I’m here. I know Aang invited me, but… you guys didn’t deserve that.”

He moves again to follow the others, Aang now leading down a long hallway. Something in Sokka twinges, as though relieved and pained at once, so he shoves the confusing feeling aside and moves up more to properly join them.

Aang keeps silent. It’s not useful for distracting, but Sokka’s stomach hurts enough that, after a moment, it becomes the distraction from internal conflict that he needs. Which is good, because he has to deal with Aang’s soon-to-be-present turmoil, and he can’t be busy with whatever his insides are doing.

They arrive at a large door, ornate in a way that reminds Sokka of Marks. Simple, but beautiful, careful, and with enough detail to tell the needed story. Beyond, apparently, is a person, but Aang seems to not have details on that. Hopefully an airbender, but any Air Nomad would help Aang with the impending grief.

“Well, just open the door, then.”

“How do we even open it?” Sokka wants to shake her, because those tubes would make noise if they were hit with wind, similar to some of the formations in ice. Clearly a security design, as forcing it to require airbending would then require it to make lots of noise and alert everyone that someone is opening the thing.

“We use airbending, of course.”

He really does try to keep his face blank, but Katara is glaring anyways, which means that she heard his thoughts on his face and is not happy with them. Not much he can do about that, no more than he can help his stomach not hurt when he’s hungry.

Inside the sanctuary, it is very dark. He pauses to push the door open further, letting light shine in and reveal the room more.

And immediately wishes he hadn’t.

Aang is standing in front of a spiral of statues that rise into the air, along the walls and to the ceiling until they are no bigger than his smallest nail.

“Who are all these people?” Katara brushes against one of the statues as she walks past them, dust falling off at her touch.

“I’m not sure. But it feels like I know them somehow. Look!” The boy points at one of the statues, fists together like Aang in meditation and Gyatso’s statue. Arrows are carved into the stone, along head and spine and arms and hands. “That one's an airbender.”

“And this one's a waterbender!” Katara starts moving along the spiral, clearly putting together the pattern of the people. “They're lined up in a pattern: air, water, earth and fire.”

“That’s the Avatar Cycle.”

“Of course. They're Avatars. All these people are your past lives, Aang!”

“Wow! There are so many!”

Sokka enters carefully, on edge the moment he gets near the false people. There is no movement beyond the living, but that doesn’t change the strange buzzing that builds in his gut, gaining more strength with each second.

“The world’s very old.”

“True. Aang’s probably lived through every time. I wonder if those memories come with age or if you have to do something to get them.”

“Who says he gets the memories? He might just have the inside stuff, like muscle memory. Help him learn bending without overwhelming the kid.”

Katara huffs, and moves off to join Aang again. Sokka sticks his tongue out at her back, turning to look at the higher statues.

Only to hurry back when he hears the shout.

“Aang! Snap out of it!” The airbender is dazed, as though taken by the Midnight Sun. Katara shakes him slightly, trying to shock him back into the right head.

Standing before the three of them is a statue of stone, an old man covered in heavy, draping clothes. The man from the dream. A firebender. Before the man in the pattern is a woman, dressed in another outfit he recognizes. The airbender two before her is nothing like Aang, but perhaps that’s on purpose. Perhaps the older Aang meant the statue that would’ve represented the boy as another in the line of lives.

“Who is that?”

“That's Avatar Roku, the Avatar before me.”

It would make sense that maybe being around the Avatar and being a firebender would put this Roku in his dream, but why the other one? Why the earthbender?

“And her?”

“I… think that’s Avatar Kyoshi.”

“Do you remember them?” Aang shakes his head, frowning.

“I think I know because they’re Avatars, but I don’t remember them. I just know.”

For a long moment, they just stand there. Aang seems lost in his head, Katara is concerned, and Sokka has no idea where to go next. They found the Temple, they’re in the sanctuary, they found the statues. What next? What next but to just… turn around and go to the North Pole?

A scuffle near the door snaps all three to attention. Sokka immediately motions for them to be silent, hiding behind the statues to block sightlines of them from the entrance. He sees his sister helping direct their new tribe member to the proper placing, and moves forward without looking back again. She’ll handle Aang, he’ll handle the potential danger.

Fire Nation, perhaps, if their luck has already run dry. Hopefully not, but hope does little in these places.

He signals behind his back, counting down his move, and then shifts his weight out, boomerang prepared to throw.

It’s the white creature.

“Lemur!” Aang rushes forward the moment it’s clear that there’s no danger.

“Why not dinner?”

Two glares hit him, which is very annoying, because the buzzing in his gut hasn’t overcome the sheer sharp pain from his stomach. Dinner would solve one of those issues.

“Don't listen to him. You're going to be my new pet.” Oh no. Not killing it is much different from keeping the thing.

Keeping the thing that was in a stupid dream that Sokka doesn’t want to even think about right now when Aang could break into tears at any moment when the grief hits.

“Y’know what? You can have the little guy as a pet. If you can catch him.” With that, Sokka lunges, startling the lemur into skittering off, back down the hallway they came from.

“Hey!” The two boys both run off, Aang to get the lemur and Sokka to stop him. They dash, Aang faster by virtue of being in his home environment, and Sokka keeping up by sheer force of will to keep running instead of tripping over his own stupid balance issues.

The chase leads further into the Southern Air Temple, down more hallways than the tour had shown. Aang pulls ahead by jumping over a railing, and Sokka realizes that his jumping on the rocks will take much more time than Aang if he doesn’t want to break bone.

He jumps anyways, carefully leaping side to side and trying to figure out his balance as he goes. He can barely watch as Aang sprints out of sight, still on the tail of the lemur. Aang can at least fall and catch himself with air. Sokka has to use rocks the whole way down.

Regardless, he manages, with Katara above him and staring down with what he guesses is exasperation or amusement, and ignores her in favor of searching for the tracks of their airbender. Footprints from the boy are incredibly light, but no worse than tracking after snowfall.

It helps when a very odd breeze starts swirling out from behind some hanging cloth, unnatural and likely Aang.

“Gotcha.”

He rushes in, following the breeze all the way through several bits of the hanging cloth and over pieces of rock and rotted wood. His eyes lock on Aang as he enters, and the dread that he held back the whole day comes right up to the surface.

The boy is sitting with his head in his hands, and it only takes a quick look around to see how much broken armor lays about. Skeletons, broken and scattered about by animals, bleached and cracking from time. Red tatters of cloth and piles of metal armor tell a story to Sokka, one that Aang has surely seen.

Gyatso fought until the end. He fought and fought, and knew he was going to die but took as many down with him as he could. How many children did he know were in danger? How many people were fleeing while Gyatso tried to lead at least some of the threat away?

“Oh, Aang. Aang, it-”

It’s not okay, of course, because it wasn’t okay when Atka died, and Sokka had other family. Gyatso, from those stories, was the only one besides Appa that Aang could look to for help.

Still, this is not the place that Aang should be. They should take the skeleton for a proper burial. Clearly, the Spirits protected the monk’s remains better than the other bodies, given none of its bones are missing, so all of Gyatso’s physical form can leave the world and let his soul make its way to the Lights.

“Come on, Aang. Everything will be all right. Let's get out of here.” He’ll come back, let Aang calm down somewhat, and they can discuss the rites later.

Except that something in the air shifts. His head swings to find out what, only to realize that the buzzing in his gut has changed into a ringing in his ears, and the air is filled with something he can only describe as grief.

And Aang’s tattoos are glowing.

Sokka swallows the panic that maybe Aang knows about his fire, because there’s no anger in this. It is grief so intense it drowns, but still only grief. He pulls himself together, but it is far too late.

Just as the water surrounded him before, the air responds to the emotions, pulling Aang into the center and becoming wind strong enough to start throwing bones around. Sokka rushes forward, shielding his face and hoping to stop whatever this is before it gets out of hand.

“Aang! Come on! Snap out of it!” He reaches a hand forw-

The sphere of air that swirls wildly around Aang expands all at once, shoving Sokka back so violently that something cracks when he hits a wall. He ducks down, shielding himself from the winds, and watches as some large tower of wind rises higher and higher, faster and faster, throwing rock and wood and all it can reach as far away as possible.

He pulls himself into a better position, looking for his sister. Whatever she sensed that first time with the iceberg, it has continued, and she’s the one who can help. Sokka is useless with emotions. He can’t help with this. He can’t do anythi- any-

He closes his eyes, breathing as deeply as he can. Something is moving in his left arm that shouldn’t be, but that isn’t priority. Aang is hurting. Katara can help. Find Katara and get her to help.

As if summoned by the stability he pulls into his chest, he hears his sister’s voice.

“What happened?” She’s moving as quickly as she can, shielding herself and trying to keep balance despite the winds.

“He found out firebenders killed Gyatso!”

“Oh no! It's his Avatar Spirit! He must have triggered it! I'm going to try and calm him down!”

Shit. He forgot. Avatars are Spirit and human, and this is the Spirit part. Of course it fucking comes out when the kid struggles. He prays to every Spirit that exists that the fondness they seem to have for him transfers to his sister, and that this Spirit won’t hurt her.

But that is all he can do for her.

He watches as the sphere holding Aang rises higher and higher. Katara is struggling to hold her footing, but she presses through, all the way until she’s right beside it.

“Aang! I know you’re upset, and I know how hard it is to lose the people you love. I went through the same thing when I lost my mom. Monk Gyatso and the others might be gone, but you still have a family. Sokka and I! We’re your family now! We won’t leave anytime soon!”

The sphere begins to descend. It certainly isn’t what Sokka would’ve said, but that’s not likely what Aang needs right now. Katara knew. Just like she knew that the iceberg was important, just like she knew that Aang wasn’t a Shifter.

As the winds begin to fade, Sokka moves forward, joining his sister and brother. He settles on the left of the boy, Katara on the right, both holding his shoulders to help ground him.

“Katara and I aren't going to let you lose anything else. Promise.”

The glowing takes a moment to fade, but when it does, the boy collapses, falling into Katara’s arms as the waterbender directs it. Her eyes flicker to Sokka’s arm, and he turns slightly to hide the limb.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Aang. None of this is your fault.”

“But you were right. And if the firebenders found this temple, that means they found the other ones, too.” The boy closes his eyes, face full of grief and exhaustion. “I really am the last airbender.”

There’s not much to say to that. Sokka, at least, doesn’t know, so he motions for Katara to carry the boy properly. She nods, and starts the journey back the way they came, murmuring something that Sokka doesn’t hear.

It doesn’t matter, as long as it helps Aang. What won’t help is finding out he indirectly caused someone to break an arm.

“Well, best to try and heal this,” he groans, suddenly feeling the throbbing building back up as his arm realizes it’s hurt.

Green fire covers his right hand, and he clenches his jaw in anticipation before shoving the hand over what Katara had seen: a very obvious and unnatural lump on his arm.

It’s painful, of course, because fire burns no matter what form. This form, at least, burns like muscles pushed to exhaustion. The noises are worse than it, if he’s honest with himself. Cracking he can feel, the bones realigning themselves in a way unnatural to his world, though perhaps not to the Spirit world.

It takes some time, a half-hour if he’s correct, but the bone ends up healed and the hunger pain has made itself the forefront sensation once more. He tries to ignore it, as there’s something more important to do.

If Aang can’t bring himself to disturb Gyatso’s remains, then at least he’ll get something to remember his Master by. Sokka carefully pulls off the necklace on the monk’s neck and tucks it up his sleeve. The other remains are all in even further disarray, but the wind had no effect on Gyatso.

“I’ll make sure he never loses this. I promise that,” he whispers to the skeleton, before starting the long journey back to Appa.

~

Packing is easy enough, since they didn’t take anything out, but Sokka wants to double-check anyways. And also prevent anyone noticing just how hungry he’s gotten.

He can last until their next stop. He can. He can make it.

Regardless, when it’s all checked and secure, he moves to go get the others. The sanctuary isn’t hard to find, and the two stand in there, staring at the statues and talking.

A chitter draws everyone’s attention.

The stupid lemur stands on its back legs, holding a load of… bright round things in its arms. Do lemurs have arms and legs or just front and back legs?

The creature jumps over to him, staring up for a moment, chittering once, and dropping the load at his feet. Then it rushes away, moving towards Aang to climb the airbender’s shoulders.

“Looks like you made a new friend, Sokka!”

“Because he found random items for me?”

“Uh, that’s fruit?”

Thoughts of lemurs leave Sokka’s mind. He trusts Aang’s word, and, sure enough, the first bite is easy to do and is as sweet as fresh polar berries. He’s never seen fruits, at least not like this, and he doesn’t know if he can even compare what he’s eating with the berries of his home. These are larger and brighter, sure, but also so sweet, so soft, full of water and dripping those juices down his chin.

Katara comes to try and steal one of his fruits, and he swats her hand, picking a larger one because he doesn’t want her unsatisfied and stealing more. She laughs at him, and he doesn’t have a retort. Mostly because his food is full of the fruit.

“I don’t think we have anything like these back home. Do you know what they’re called?”

“Most of them, yeah. C’mon, I can tell you as we walk so Sokka doesn’t get mad we’re not leaving fast enough.”

Sokka goes to make a gesture and stops himself, instead giving a thumbs-down to the boy, but follows anyway once he’s grabbed all the fruit.

Appa is waiting, and Aang goes to talk to the bison immediately, allowing Katara plenty of an opening to grab her brother and scold him. He mostly just lets her, too busy eating.

“You need to take care of yourself. We promised to stick around, so make sure you keep that promise. Not to mention you need more food than I do. What would you have done if that lemur didn’t decide to bring you something?”

He doesn’t bother answering, mouth very full.

“Really, I shouldn’t have to say this so much. You better get it together now if we’re to make it all the way to the North. I better not catch you getting by on nothing when we’re all full, understood?” He nods. “Good. Now finish that while I double-check your work.”

He doesn’t stop her. Partly because of the fruit, of course. But also because she’s worried, and he knows that. He does! She gets mad that he seems to not understand and he always refrains from telling her that he understands well enough to hide things from her. He thinks that’s understanding it, alright.

He thinks that they should find those trees, too. Fruit is good, and if it doesn’t last long, they can eat it instead of what does last, or at least last until they can get more food.

By the time he finishes, Aang has disappeared and reappeared with said fruit that Sokka had been thinking about getting, helped Katara load it, and spoken more to the animals. Katara must’ve tipped the boy off that Sokka was hungrier than just missing a single meal, because Aang doesn’t seem like the sort to plan that far ahead. Or at all, if he can get around it.

Typical.

“Katara, Sokka, say hello to the newest member of our family.” The siblings turn as one, and Sokka realizes that he’s referring to the lemur. Not leaving it behind, then.

“What are you going to name him?”

The lemur seems to answer… by stealing Sokka’s fucking peach. That was his peach, and the lemur could’ve asked.

“Momo.” Katara laughs at that, and Sokka growls at her, before making a warning gesture at the lemur. If ‘Momo’ sticks around, he’ll need to train the silly thing.

“Well, then let’s get going, shall we?”

~

“You kept those?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Why not?” Sokka returns his gaze to his work, which currently is cleaning the seeds he gathered. If they rot, he won’t have any use for them, after all.

“I think it’s funny you already like Momo.”

“I do not like the lemur. I merely properly dubbed the retriever of food so he understands that if he wants to not be eaten, he should provide other food.”

“Sokka!”

“What, he asked!” Aang’s horror quickly fades as he realizes that Sokka must’ve been joking, especially when Sokka starts trying to show he’s laughing at the airbender. Mostly because he wasn’t really thinking when he said it, and that was pretty harsh for a boy who realized he lost nearly everything.

“I think Momo can do that for you.”

“See? He’s fine, Katara. Kid’s strong.” He puts the pouch of seeds away as he finishes his work, only for Aang to grab something that starts falling out of his sleeve.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, I forgot to give you that. It’s Gyatso’s necklace. You didn’t ask for any funeral rites, so I thought you might want to hold a piece of his memory. No reason to let it rot or get destroyed by some idiot who manages to get up the mountain, righ- oof.”

Two small but remarkably strong arms wrap tightly around his shoulders. The boy is shaking, so Sokka hugs back. Sure, it’s important, but why wouldn’t Aang have thought of that if it was?

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Course. It’s yours more than anyone else’s. You were his kid, right?”

Aang doesn’t answer that, but his eyes are glued to the necklace, running his fingers over the carvings in it. Well. Okay.

“I’ll just set up the bedrolls,” he mutters, moving to do so. Katara laughs at him. He lets her. She’s been laughing a lot more recently and he’s not about to stop that pattern.

~

He’s back, but he’s never been here before. He’s certain of that…

The serpent of before is reared up, resting in water that sits in the middle of the cave, so deep that the rock stops being visible. He knows what grabbed him now, those whiskers that look so much like drooping ropes, only they move fluidly.

Those whiskers dip into some of the soft earth that rests at the edge of the water, where the rock holds what is deposited by the lapping waves. The material clings like paint, and like his paint, it is placed upon his face. He lets the serpent do so, waiting as it spreads the earth over his skin with a gentleness that belies its massive size.

It finishes, and he moves to look in the water’s reflection.

His face is covered in the markings of the statue, the wooden woman with white and black and red.

Black rock flies around him as he stands on a Fire Nation ship. Soldiers try to move through it, but they are knocked aside. A blast of fire moves towards a man in green, and he shoves it aside.

He’s standing with an old man at his back, trees full of shadows and hazy figures around him. He prepares to fight.

A Spirit, black and white, a soft bear and a starved monster. Back and forth and back and forth, flickering between forms.

The place that’s cold and warm, light and ice and green and blue. There’s a tree in front of his face, beautiful in a way trees aren’t meant to be in the cold.

He turns around to face the Moon.

He takes a deep breath.

His armor sits just as he remembers. He hardly wears it, as there’s no need most days, but there’s need enough today. The weight is heavier than before. He should wear it more often. He should never fail because he let a skill fade.

The ice around him is nearly blinding, reflecting the light of the Sun back into the sky. The edges of it are close enough to see, especially as the ship begins to move to cut its way through.

“Prince Zuko, are you ready?”

“I have been ready for a while, Uncle.”

There are no more words.

He keeps his gaze on the village in the distance. It’s the only one for miles, so it is surely where the Avatar has hidden, trying to use others as shields. It won’t work anymore.

“Nephew, what is that? The speck moving across the ice?”

His eyes snap to it, and he picks it apart easily enough as it moves and reveals its nature.

“Helmsman, slow the ship!” He turns back to his uncle, nodding towards the village. “They’re sending a messenger to meet us.”

“How odd. Usually, they wait for us to come to them.”

He knows what is implied, and he keeps the words that boil up in defense down. Even if there was a good reason for the raids to start, there was no reason to go as far as they did.

The ship stops shortly into breaking through the ice, and the oddity makes itself known. If the ship continues all the way to the village, the ice could crack beneath the homes of the people there. A fool would know they wouldn’t want to allow that.

Zuko moves down to disembark, joining the crew who will be following him. As the door opens, the figure approaching becomes more visible. Not a messenger, then, nor an emissary. If they wanted to try diplomacy, they wouldn’t be wearing war paint and be armed so clearly. A warrior then.

But why would a village send onl… A very small village. A small village would not have many trained warriors. They would value other professions over combat.

“If they fight, engage only one-to-one. They are a small village, and it is a dishonor to use numbers instead of skill to win.” His men nod, and he settles into a more authoritative stance, something reminiscent of his days as a properly titled prince.

The warrior is nearly to them when the ice’s reflection fades enough for him to see what the warrior truly wears. He immediately catalogues the weak points, of course, but there is a level of foreignness to the outfit. The gloves are missing fingers, the only plating is on the outside of the forearms, and most of the gear is fur and wraps. Speed, agility, stealth. That would fit well with the paint of a tiger-seal that adorns the man’s face.

He doesn’t know how much weaponry the warrior has, but it is more than enough to know this is no diplomatic envoy. The most obvious is the club strapped at the warrior’s side, made of a strange wood and with a stone embedded in the top to add weight. If a fight breaks, he’ll need to keep distance. The warrior will surely try to close distance and get hits in quickly.

The Southern man stops far enough away to be out of range of firebending. A smart move.

“I’m here for the Avatar,” Zuko announces. He knows honesty will be valued, and potentially avoid a fight the village is not likely to win.

The warrior, however, says nothing. For a few minutes, the words sit, before Zuko decides to speak again.

“I know he is here. I saw him with my own eyes. Where is he?”

More silence. His eyes never leave Zuko’s, clearly trying to either intimidate or size the prince up.

“We have no quarrels with you. Wher-”

“Who are you?”

“I-” He pauses. It is not often that people don’t know his name, but the village could likely not have any trade or travellers visiting it. “I am Prince Zuko,” he finishes.

“We don’t have any waterbenders in our village. Leave, now.”

Zuko steadies his stance as much as he can, partially to hide the struggle those words provoke in his core. It is not a waterbender that he seeks, and he is not assigned to anything but finding and capturing the Avatar.

“It was an airbender. He wore the colors of the Nomads, not your people.”

“...Stay here. I will speak with the Elders.”

The warrior turns in a single fluid motion, bolting back across the ice. The speed, now much more obvious from even footing, is incredible. On ice, it seems, none can move faster than those of the Water Tribes.

None of that matters if Zuko can avoid battle. None of it matters if he finds the Avatar.

~

What.

The.

Fuck.

Sokka has seen firebenders before. None wear metal so thin, so this so-called ‘prince’ must not know about the power of a club’s swing. The helmet had more spikes than any the raiders had, far as he remembers. He was rather young, but surely he’d remember something so odd. He wonders if it’s for intimidation, or maybe because of rank? Do only royals wear spiked helmets?

Focus.

The kid is a firebender, young but no more than Sokka. He has no weaponry to support his fire, so Sokka doesn’t need to fight fire with fire and blade with blade. From what he remembers, fire needs range to avoid hurting those that use it, hence why they tend to have numbers. The prince might stay back while the weapon-wielding soldiers move to engage.

They want Aang, which was obvious before and is worrying now. Aang is gone, and they don’t know that.

He makes it through the wall of the village, slowing just before the council. They told him they’d wait, but he’d thought they’d be in a tent, hidden.

“The others?”

“All safely in the furthest tent.”

“They want Aang. With him gone, I do not know what to say.”

“They are Fire Nation,” Kitchi sighs. “The Fire Nation does not take excuses.”

The group is silent for a moment to let the memories come and go.

“Then the true question is do we betray Aang or do I fight?”

Neither is ideal. There is only one of him, and a ship full of soldiers. But betraying Aang, even after only so short a time, is nearly unthinkable.

“The decision will remain with you, Chief Sokka. You protect the tribe. Is the airbender of the tribe after so soon?”

The answer, unfortunately, is very simple and very swift to come to him.

“Yes. I will fight. If I fail, cooperate fully with them and tell them where Aang has gone. It should give time for him to flee and evade them.”

The Elders bow their heads solemnly, and Sokka does so back. He taps his forehead to his grandmother’s, takes a deep breath, and turns back to face his choice. Either he wins or he loses, but he knows one thing for absolute certain.

“I won’t stop, Siqniq. Not even if I die.”

~

The warrior approaches, but moves much closer than before. All hope for nonviolence drains, not that Zuko allows such weakness to show in his posture.

“Well?” The warrior slides into a fighting stance. Zuko sighs quietly. Fighting it is, then.

They move at the same time, which shows exactly what Zuko thought: the strategy of water is to move fast and close distance. The firebender moves back as the other moves forward, and one of Zuko’s steps is enough for two of the warrior’s. A quick plan is needed.

He sends a quick burst of fire at the feet of the warrior, aiming to push the man back further. It works for a second, only for the other to pull out a spear.

How he has a spear on his person and that wasn’t immediately visible to Zuko is beyond the prince. As it is, the point quickly bears down on Zuko, and an attempt to use fire against it results in a last-second dodge and the spear barely looking singed. He recalculates, lunging forward and stealing the spear from the other’s hands.

He’s stopped mid-motion of breaking it by words that chill him to his core.

“Bone splinters bad!” An honorable warning, clearly. But more than the intent is the fucking words that were said.

“Bone?”

The spear is stolen back, replaced by the club. It comes down a few times, missing most due to the reflexes Zuko has honed meticulously. The one time it hits, Zuko catches it on his armor, intending to use the motion to disarm his opponent.

Instead, his ears ring and his arms are most certainly bruised, though the armor prevents any fractures.

The battle is even matched, he realizes, with both moving to add or remove distance in equal measures. The prince can fend off the warrior’s attacks, but can’t manage any of his own. The warrior can close distance quickly to get a hit in, but actually hitting is very difficult. Without a change in strategy, it could easily last an hour or more.

He drops down, sweeping his leg out to get the warrior to dodge it. Then he turns in one motion to send fire in the direction the man is heading, forcing the other the opposite way. In the split moment of readjustment, he grabs ahold of the warrior, flips him over, and slams him hard enough to wind. His foot hits the other’s chest with enough force to keep the man down, and Zuko prepares to issue some ultimatum, maybe capture the warrior for lever-

Wind knocks him off his feet.

~

“Appa get boring?”

Sokka is coughing as Aang helps him up, trying to maneuver between the airbender and the soldiers near them. Aang responds with a glare, half-smiling.

“Uncalled for.”

The Fire Prince manages to stand again, aided by his companions, only to then stare in shock at Aang’s small form. His mouth works several times, and his eyes flick to Sokka a few times.

“You’re just a child!” Sokka snorts at that.

“Well, you’re just a teenager,” Aang quips back, clearly confused by the statement. Sokka actually understands the Fire Prince’s sentiment, but focuses back on the situation at hand. The battle will be tougher with Aang’s presence a fact and not a suspicion.

He starts to settle into a fighting stance again, only to have a small hand grab his arm. He looks to Aang, who is looking back with a new expression that he hasn’t seen on the boy yet. Something… contemplative. Like he’s seeing more of Sokka than he had before.

“If I leave with you, will you leave the village alone?”

The words are directed at the Fire Nation, at the soldiers and the royal and the metal and fire and blood-red pooling over char-

“The Elders said no.”

“Well, I’m technically not in the tribe, remember?” He remembers that Aang was never told that he’s a brother already. Someone to be protected as much as any of the others.

“If you come with willingly, then I guarantee that I and my crew will do no harm to any of the village, nor their home. You have my word for that.”

Aang moves forward, dodging the attempt to grab him, halfhearted as it is. If Katara had decided such, Sokka might fight harder, but Aang is the Avatar. They can’t kill him without losing control, and the Fire Nation wants to control.

He growls low in his throat, glares at the Fire Prince, and runs back to his village.

~

The Avatar being a child is no small thing, but not of the most importance. Instead, Zuko calls out orders, including the binding of the airbender beside him. The crew snaps into work, each with efficiency he’s come to value more than anything else on the ship. Besides his uncle, of course, and now the Avatar.

He takes the staff the boy had, and stops himself just before leaving. There is a question he could have answered now, and if he truly goes through with everything…

“How many warriors did the village have?”

“Uh, one? I mean, he was training the kids, but no one else acted like he does.”

With that information, he leaves the (remarkably honest) Avatar, moving forward with his plans.

~

Appa is sitting near the water, and Sokka takes advantage of that. The bison is huge, able to easily carry multiple canoes in it. There are a few things already in it, but not nearly enough for how long the travel would be.

Katara finds him in a matter of minutes, already ranting before she even properly reaches him.

“We can’t just leave him! He gave himself up for us! He didn’t go against anything you said while he was here, but he did to keep us safe, Sokka! We need to help! We can’t just leave him alone, not when he might as well already be a member of the- oh.”

“Finally noticed the supplies?”

“Shut up.”

“Leaving so soon?”

Both siblings whip around, eyes snapping on their grandmother. Behind her, the rest of the village moves closer, clearly having realized she had a reason for leaving the tents. No hope of a less painful departure, then.

“We have to save him, Gran-Gran,” Katara says, clearly desperate but determined.

“I understand, Katara. And it will do you both good. You will be able to learn bending, master it, as you never would here.”

Sokka stands quickly, trying to keep his mind on the tasks at hand. It doesn’t work, because the children are clever and quick and so so skilled, and they run forward suddenly, shouting after the tribe’s only benders.

He waves Katara to say her goodbyes, moving to speak to their grandmother.

“Will you be chief in my absence?”

“Of course. Here.” She hands him a small pouch, clearly full of supplies she deems necessary that he won’t. He doesn’t deny it or look within. Whatever his grandmother says he needs, he will take it at her word.

“I don’t know how to be away from the tribe, Gran-Gran. Will you be safe?”

“The Avatar has assured it.” She nudges his shoulder with her own. “The Fire Nation are shit navigators. They won’t find us again.”

He lets his tension loosen somewhat, before moving about in his own goodbyes. He notices Katara leaving, likely to grab her own items, but he focuses on the now. On memorizing every child’s face, every woman and Elder. He might never see them again.

He doesn’t know how his father managed it, if this is how it felt to leave them all.

“Ciku, you’re in charge of training. Sohki isn’t allowed to think he’s failed. What’s the rule?”

“Don’t stop!” The shout is quieter than usual, and tears are forming, but Sokka smiles at them all and tries to force some hope into his presence.

“Right. You’ll all do great. Do well by the tribe and the Spirits will bless you. Together, we are a tribe, and a tribe never falls. Even the smallest work is still another task done.”

“Yes, Chief.”

“Oh, fuck you, Ciku.” Tears try to well in his eyes, and he blinks them back with passion. The trickster of a child smiles with her own tears, and he pulls her in. She reminds him so much of Siqniq, of someone trying to bring light to a poor situation.

And someone telling him they believe he can do what he knows he cannot.

He turns around as Katara is arriving with her supplies, gesturing for her to load them. Gran-Gran stands waiting, and he pulls her into a tight hug.

“I trust your word more than any others.”

“Then trust that I know you will make it as far as you need to keep the tribe safe, even if you only have two of us with you. Now,” she pulls back, tapping his forehead and shoving him towards Appa, “go get the Avatar back. Tell those Fire Nation bastards that Gran-Gran sent you.”

Sokka laughs, because he can imagine the look on the faces of those soldiers at hearing “Gran-Gran sent us” shouted at the top of someone’s lungs.

“Will do, Gran-Gran.”

“Goodbye, Gran-Gran!”

Appa begins to swim off, faster than the first time they rode. Sokka stares after his tribe with Katara as long as they can see, barely steering the bison after the metal monster that took their family.

Katara settles first, of course, though her eyes are wet. Seeing it, he moves forward with heated hands, drying them so she won’t have frozen by the time they arrive.

“Gonna take a while to find them like this, even if it’s faster than boat.”

“Aang said something to get Appa up, remember? And Appa should be rested by now.”

Sokka grumbles. He doesn’t like the idea of flying, at least when he also has to come up with a working strategy to fight a whole ship of Fire Nation soldiers with only three people, one of which was currently captured.

“Appa, come on. We need you to fly! Aang needs you.”

He groans, covering his face, because now Katara is sitting at the head of the beast, pleading with it. As if that would work. If the issue is a command, then why waste time on the arguments and reasoning. A trained polar bear-dog will not attack unless to save its life or given the command.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t remember the words used.

“Go. Fly. Soar.”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to find that command you mentioned, unless you remember it?” She falls silent with a glare. “Thought so. Up. Ascend. Elevate.”

“Ignore him. You can figure this out. C’mon, I believe in you!”

Sokka rolls his eyes, trying to remember the words. They were something more like whistles than words, though not whistles, he’d remember if it was.

“Yee-haw? Hup-hup? Wah-hoo?” He sits straight when he finally gets it. “No, yip-yip!”

He thinks shouting might’ve been a mistake. The excitement at remembering is quickly overcome by the sudden dread as the beast lurches forward, moving faster and faster until-

The ice is far beneath them. Hundreds of feet beneath them. Katara is whooping, cheering that it worked. They are moving faster than any boat, faster than anything of land or sea in these parts. Nothing is in their way to get Aang back.

Because they’re flying.

“Sokka, hands.”

He looks down, seeing the color he hasn’t seen more than once. They’d guessed, back then, and this might prove it, but he ignores that. He wants to watch.

So he shakes his hands to disperse the flames, moves forward, and takes hold of the reins to steer towards the pillar of char-smoke. It’s visible, now, that black pillar that comes from every metal boat the Fire Nation uses, when the sea and the earth and the air don’t help them and they only have fire left to use.

“I was right.”

“Shut up, we’re getting your boyfriend back.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Married already?”

She punches him in the shoulder, and he winces so she feels better about her strength. She punches him again for that.

“Fuck off.”

“Careful. I don’t think the Avatar would like that.”

“I don’t think he’d care!”

“Good point, but wouldn’t other people care? Especially since we’re going to the North, right? If w-”

He gets punched again. He questions that one, because they aren’t at the ship yet and he’s already got a plan that can change and could work. Maybe. Better than the others, at least.

“Focus. We’ll talk about using Gran-Gran’s words later, when we actually have Aang here to talk to.”

“We have at least half an hour!”

“So…” She waves a hand, encouraging him to say something.

Oh.

“So I tell you the plan. Whoops.”

She punches him once more, albeit softer, just for good measure.

~

The plan is useless. Absolutely useless.

Because Aang is already on the deck, trying to fight an entire crew of soldiers alone. Fire is launched at the boy, and the wind that the kid calls on is useful, but overwhelmed, especially after losing his staff. Sokka hands the reins to Katara, whistling stay to her before perching on the edge, trying to find a place to land.

The kid goes over the side.

“Aang!” is screamed in his ear, but he focuses instead on shifting to land in the water. He can survive the cold plenty, and hold his breath long enough, but the impact might be an issue. They need to lower Appa as fast as possible or get over that ship, so he can jump from less height.

“Ka-”

The airbender comes out of the water riding a swirling spout about a few thousand times bigger than Katara’s best work. Just like in that iceberg, the tattoos and eyes glow bright, and if this is how he survived the ice for a hundred years-

Focus. Kid’s still being attacked by the Fire Nation.

“Katara, get Appa lower. I’ll grab him.”

“Wha- he’s fine!”

“He passed out from the iceberg, he’ll do that now. Lower!”

His sister frowns but follows, getting closer to the ship without landing. The waterspout manages to shove those on the deck down, all but Aang, which means some time gained.

The moment they’re low enough, Sokka drops, rolling into a sprint to grab the airbender just as he collapses. Exactly like the iceberg. He moves to dash back, realizing he’ll have to time it all again.

“My staff…” the boy mumbles against him, clearly trying to stay awake despite the exertion taking a toll. Sokka slings Aang on his back, very relieved when the other manages to cling like the children usually do. Arms free, now the staff.

The staff is halfway off the deck, and he’s not the only one who grabs it. The Fire Prince, having been knocked off the ship during the waterspout, clings, clearly trying to pull himself up with it. The weight nearly pulls both Sokka and Aang clear over the side thanks to the stupid metal armor the other teen wears.

Annoyed, he uses the staff to just hit the other, repeatedly and swiftly, like when he wants to annoy Katara for insisting he sit down when his feet want to move. It takes a moment, but the firebender eventually drops, hitting the stupid metal anchor. That, at least, is built to handle a stupid amount of weight.

“Oy, Fire Prince! Gran-Gran sent us!” He sticks his tongue out for good measure, then jumps up on the railing and makes a rush towards the front end of the ship. Katara, clearly watching his moves, hurries Appa into position.

The jump is a close one, but Appa lifts the leg just enough to let Sokka get his feet, scrambling into the saddle and dropping Aang and his staff immediately. Then he turns, sees the Fire Prince finally swinging up, and promptly launches his boomerang.

“Really?”

“Gran-Gran would do it!”

“You’re not Gran-Gran!”

The boomerang, as it often does, curves itself past the prince, who seems confused by how wildly it ‘misses’. The return hits at just the right angle to knock the stupid helmet askew, maybe give a good bump on the skull, and to sail right back up towards Sokka’s hands.

Appa rises high very quickly, clearly at Katara’s urging. They start to move further north, heading to block pursuit with the ice below them. Some of the firebenders on the ship band together, sending a much larger blast than most straight towards Appa’s side. Sokka moves to intercept, to disperse it into nothing-

Aang, just like the iceberg, is not fully down so soon. He leaps up, launches a downward swing with his staff, and the fire splits in two.

Hitting a bunch of ice.

Which hits the ship. And buries it. But doesn’t sink it. That kid is scary but nonlethal, and for that, Sokka is very grateful.

Both siblings laugh, especially when Aang waves goodbye to the soldiers.

“Aang, you are something else entirely.”

“Uh, not really.”

The tone forces his gaze off the shrinking black threat. Aang’s face, usually bright and hopeful, is turned down. Not quite frowning, but almost as if he doesn’t feel he has any reason to be sad.

Katara’s eyes soften in a way they almost never do, and she moves to sit down beside him, letting Appa glide forward without guidance. Sokka doesn’t move to take the reins. He can see what she does.

He feels it, sometimes, and he knows his sister does, too. To be special and be told it is some amazing blessing, and wondering if that means you’re still allowed to have troubles because of it all.

“We knew, if that helps.”

“You did? Why didn’t you tell me? I lied to you.”

“You didn’t want to tell us.”

“You were so hopeful that the Avatar could help you. I can’t really help anyone.”

Katara frowns, struggling between soft assurance and the hardened tone when she tells someone off for thinking poorly of themself. Her eyes land on her brother, and the frown deepens.

“Kid, what did you do back there?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Kid.” Aang turns, confused at the change in tone. Sokka smiles the best he can, trying to discard all the recent tension to give only the good and none of the poor. “I didn’t mean that cool waterbending move. I mean you hugged my back, so I could move freely. I mean you were trying to get free so we didn’t have to try and take over the entire ship just to get you back. I mean that you gave yourself up to start with, to save a village you said was not your own. You’re wrong, too. I talked with the Elders, Aang.”

He pauses, and his heart twists at the thought of leaving so many of his people behind. He still has his tribe, just not all of them. He still can protect, and maybe the Fire Nation will just ignore the village to chase after Aang instead.

“We decided that you are a member of the tribe, even so soon. You bring the children joy. You brought my sister joy. You did your best to help where you could, you followed my leading, and you apologized when you caused unintentional harm. Of course I was going to fight to help you flee. You chose to save me instead. Of course we left to get you back. You chose to act alone so we had a step up. You are not special because of being the Avatar, kid. I knew that when you passed out a few days ago. I told the Elders that right away, and the adults, and Katara heard from them. Doesn’t take much guesswork for that.”

“Sokka’s right. You lied, but I’ve had to lie, and the tribe has lied for me. The Fire Nation thought you were dead, and they tried to kill the next Avatar. I’ve been lying and hiding my bending my whole life, and I’m not anything more than a waterbender. You’re the Avatar.” She pauses to look at her hands, smiling to herself at some thought. “You’re Aang.”

Sokka snorts, which earns him a sharp glare from his sister. He gives her a crude gesture, since there are no children and no formalities of council around to witness it.

“What’s that?”

“Well, I can’t tell you if we’re going to the North Pole. Our sister tribe is said to be a bit more, uh, formal than us.”

“Oh. I know how to swear, if that’s what you mean. I know most people don’t think monks do, but we know plenty.”

“Sokka means that you-” She swallows her words, reevaluating so she won’t hurt the boy. Never does that for Sokka. “He means that you have to be formal more, if you tell people you’re the Avatar, so you maybe shouldn’t swear in front of anyone who might know that.”

“We actually were talking on the way, before Appa got his not-wings under him.” He ignores the two confused looks. “Katara and I were thinking about standing together in that.”

“Standing together?”

“He means that, as a team, we would all refrain from what we call ‘Gran-Gran’ words. She taught most of us how to properly curse the stupidity of others, but if you have to be formal, and you want to be in the tribe, we could be formal together!”

“Oh. So, am I in the tribe or not?”

“She means your choice.”

“I choose yes?”

“Great!” Katara hugs Aang. Sokka gags loudly, just to show how he feels about the whole thing. She glares over the airbender’s shoulder, and he smirks back.

“Well, as our brother-in-tribe, wanna start preparing to be ‘polite’?”

“Uh, sure! But why do you both look like you smelled something rotten?”

“Huh? Oh, you mean disgust! Yes, we consider politeness meaning respect to be stupid.”

“You’re respectful and polite, Aang, but we’re just respectful. Most folks are gonna say we’re rude, and imply that means disrespectful, and I am not looking forward to that.”

There’s a moment of silence, all three lost in thoughts that likely differ greatly. Sokka is thinking ahead, of course, but also knows that Katara is imagining how she will need to deal with such people. Aang is a mystery… until the boy jumps up and moves to retrieve one of the few items that was already stowed on the saddle.

“Well, in that case, we’ll be taking some very important stops for very important business!” The scroll unrolls, promptly weighed down by small rocks. Both siblings lean forward, staring curiously at the odd material and the map upon it.

Aang, thrilled with his intent audience, starts to speak while dramatically gesturing for emphasis on the ‘very important’ nature of the plan.

“Three stops. Here, we’ll ride the hopping llamas. Then waaay over here, we'll surf on the backs of giant koi fish.” Sokka makes a note to check how well Aang can actually swim. “Then back over here, we'll ride the hog-monkeys. They don't like people riding them, but that's what makes it fun!”

Katara shoves him backwards, which he accepts, because that plan is wildly inefficient, even for something clearly meant to have fun. Sokka still laughs - because it is fun - but makes sure to school his face when two very wide grins turn to look. He needs to adjust it before they commit! They could do the hog-monkeys after the hopping llamas, or do it all on the way back instead of forward.

Some people are good at ideas, but poor at plans. He won’t say that to Aang, but that’s more for Aang than giving in to anything.

“Hey, Aang?”

“Hm?”

“Before you and Katara gush about getting to the North and waterbending, or whatever it is you’ve been talking about, I want you to know the tribe’s way.”

“Just one?”

“It’s a rule,” his sister says, already knowing what he means. “Don’t stop. Ever. If you stop, you die, so the tribe never stops.”

Aang considers that for a moment. He frowns more in concentration than a reason that needs addressing, before lifting his head and extending his smallest right finger.

“I won’t if you won’t.”

Katara takes that promise.

~

Clearing the ice takes more time than he had hoped, but with help from his uncle’s strength, the task is managed before their clocks indicate night has fallen. He rarely feels tired when he visits the poles during summer. How anyone sleeps when the Sun does not is beyond him, but perhaps that is merely built into the Water Tribes.

He sighs quietly once his door is closed and locked. This might be a day worth meditating for.

First, though, is his armor. It comes off as easily as it went on, even with a dent in his helmet. After that, he begins to take off his upperwear, exposing his arms to treat with the usual salve for bruises.

The bruises he expected are very dark already, though rolling his wrists proves he was right in thinking there are no fractures. If his armor was not so well-made…

The Avatar is a child. That is odd enough to think about for hours. The Temples were empty, the airbenders dead and gone, and there are few places they could be hiding. Even if there were some left, and even if the cycle had gone around once more without anyone realizing, why would that child be in the South Pole? Why in such a small village, barely more than a smattering of tents and snow walls? Why not the North? Why not a bigger village, where more than one warrior lives?

It makes more sense that there would be a water Avatar, or any element besides air. A hundred years come and gone without word of the Avatar, and it ends up being a child airbender.

Getting no further in those thoughts, he moves on.

There was one warrior, and seemingly no waterbenders. The warrior Zuko fought had seemed to not expect the Avatar, though not surprised. The child had not been meant to come, but was known to the village. And when the beast that clearly is bonded to the Avatar came along, as of air as the child, there were three who left. The warrior, the Avatar, and what he thinks was a female of that village, though he didn’t manage a proper look. Who would come along? A teacher, perhaps? But then why did she not come out to help defend the village?

He has gotten little more from thinking than more questions. Meditation will help. Uncle always tells him that meditation is for rhythm, both in the breathing that fuels fire and the thoughts that guide it.

He will need much guidance to figure out this puzzle.

~

The village is quiet when it is time to rest, but the time to rest is more for those who work than the Elders. She wishes there was more of both.

But wishing does nothing.

She moves to the tent where her grandson always kept his armor, the items he never should have had to wear so young. He rarely entered, but she knows he kept more in there than just extra gear.

She slips through, and the small space is dimmer than the Midnight Sun outside… but not dark.

There is a candle, one she remembers gifting to the little boy touched by so many Spirits. The only one she brought with her when she left her blood behind, now burning slowly down. The flame is weak, but it does not flicker.

She kneels before it.

Spirits, bless them. Protect them. They have given their lives to the tribe. Carry them to safety.

She reaches out with two fingers. The flame is barely noticeable in its heat, but she knows how much it meant to the young man who left to fight the worst of predators.

Things went well.

A year had passed, then another, and another. He was fourteen, and chief, and a mighty hunter. He was fourteen, and a firebender, and helping his tribe get by day by day.

And then he is fifteen.

Fifteen, and going fishing with his sister. It’s one of the times when she’s begun to worry he’s spending too much time alone on the ice, and declared that she’s going no matter what he says.

They load their canoe with a spear, and some food, and a basket for their catches, and then themselves. Sokka pushes them off, waving at the children who wildly flap their arms in goodbyes. Katara smiles at him as he turns back, glad that he’s in a good mood.

A good mood that only lasts so long.

They sit there for several hours, waiting for fish to come near their canoe. Only paddling when necessary, letting themselves just float along, and not a single fish comes within reach.

Lunchtime comes and goes, the conversation dying to nearly nothing as they try to focus on the water and any movement within.

A flash of silver catches his eye.

Without a word, he grabs his spear, calculates-

He misses.

Definitely no longer in a good mood.

Katara tries to lift his spirits by showing him some of the newer moves she’s been practicing, bubbles of water that float in the air. It works minutely.

Finally, after yet another hour of just sitting and watching, another fish takes interest in their canoe, circling around on Sokka’s side. He raises his spear again, this time speaking to his sister.

“Watch. I’ll get it this time for sure.” He doesn’t know if she actually watches, since he’s entirely focused on the fish. His stomach nearly rumbles at the thought of making jerky out of it for his next hunt.

“Sokka, look!”

He wants to sigh. He wants to shush her. He wants so badly to just ignore his sister and fix his bad mood on his own.

But she sounds so excited , and she’s calling for him when she knows he’s focusing-

He looks. It does, in fact, improve his mood.

The bubble technique she’s been working on has come in handy incredibly quickly. A fish floats in it, held in place by the swaying of the water. Immediately, he flips his spear around, holding his other hand up with three fingers.

Three. Two. One.

He stabs the fish just as she puts the water away, keeping both of them dry and the fish in the boat. Smiling at each other, Katara opens the basket for him, and he slides the wriggling creature off his spear.

“Good job. Think you could do it again?” His head jerks towards the other fish, which is still circling near the canoe.

“Maybe. Switch places with me.”

They start moving, Sokka being careful to not hit his sibling with the spear, and both trying to not tip the canoe too much. They situate themselves, and Katara takes position to lift the other fish into the air.

Their canoe suddenly shudders.

A riptide.

Paddling frantically, Sokka attempts to avoid the floes in their path, barely managing to keep them from being crushed by two colliding icebergs. Katara, frantic from the rush of fear, starts yelling directions.

“Watch out! Go left! Go left!”

He tries desperately to move them to the left, but the current is too strong, pushing them in a veering right and causing the canoe to become pinned by large floes. Just as the wood gives to the pressure, the two siblings throw themselves onto the ice in front of them. Sokka drives his spear into the ice, to keep him away from the edge, but he doesn’t manage to catch Katara. Fortunately, her sliding is halted just before she might fall off.

She shuffles back from the rim, moving to sit beside her brother. Still reeling from the crash, and being Katara, her voice is filled with bitterness as she addresses him.

“You call that left?” And, him being Sokka, he responds in kind.

“You don’t like my steering? Well, maybe you should’ve waterbended us out of the ice .”

Katara gets to her feet, likely feeling restless from the rush that comes with fear. She faces him off, face screwed up in anger.

“So it’s my fault?” He groans quietly in annoyance.

“I knew I should’ve left you home! Leave it to you to screw things up!”

He waits calmly as she goes from anger to pure fury. A finger points at him, drawing little power in its familiarity.

“You are the most ignorant, immature, nut-brained -” Her hands swing up and down, creating small waves as she speaks. “I’m embarrassed for you!” A jet of water follows her hand up.

But as both hands go down, he pays far more attention.

A large crack. A fissure running up, up, up… He looks at how tall the iceberg is, thinks about the effects should it make any large movement while they’re stuck on the floe.

“Ever since mom died, you’ve been trying so hard to take on all the work alone, and you never stop to think about if people will miss you!”

“Uh… Katara…” he tries, though his voice is quiet as he watches the deepening crack.

“You could’ve firebended us out, but you’re so stuck in thinking that you have to do everything alone! I’m your sister! I’m right here!”

More cracks branch out. He forgoes quiet and leaps into screeching.

“KATARA, SETTLE DOWN!”

“NO! THAT’S IT! I’M DONE TRYING TO BE HERE! YOU WANT TO BE ALONE, YOU’RE ALONE!”

Her hands descend once more, swift and sharp. A huge wave radiates outwards, directly towards the iceberg. Upon impact, fissures break across the entirety of it, reaching all the way to the tip.

Sokka inhales sharply, trying to push through the fear and move . His sister, suddenly conscious of the other reasons why her brother might be scared, turns to look behind herself.

The iceberg, split cleanly in half, collapses, sending an enormous wave back towards the siblings. The force of it knocks them both off balance, clinging to their floe to avoid falling off. Sokka, still grounded by his spear, puts his arm over Katara in an attempt to hold her in place.

They wait for the radiating waves to fade before even lifting their heads, hearts pounding as they recover from the second scare of the day.

“Okay, you’ve gone from ‘weird’ to ‘freakish’,” he informs the other teen, referring to their longstanding argument over Katara being the weird one because times like this. Times when, somehow , her bending leaks out with her emotions.

“You mean I did that?” She gestures at the damage, which is a large open view of a great many ice chunks floating in the ocean.

“Yep.” He smirks at her shock, nudging her with his elbow to try and break her out of it. “ Congratulations .”

She opens her mouth, perhaps out of impulse, perhaps to speak, but she cuts off. Directly in front of their floe, the water has begun to bubble, like some great beast is rising from the depths. A glow of brilliant blue spreads, filling most of the bubbling area in seconds. Both of them quickly stop leaning forward to see and start trying to scramble away from the glow, knowing better than to sit still.

A new iceberg rises, pushing the floe back even more forcefully than the first. When the waters finally settle down once more, the berg is visible as a large dome, much different from the craggy tower of the first one. Sokka takes a moment to curse at the Spirits - the ice spirits, La, the Riptide Spirit, really anyone that would be technically responsible - and then takes a deep breath to calm himself back down.

Meanwhile, his sister, seemingly entranced by the glowing berg, stands, stepping forward slightly in awe. He reaches one hand as though to grab her, even as his own mind reels. The ice and the wind are silent, as though in their own state of reverence towards this strange scene.

As his eyes adjust to the blue light, he manages to make out two forms within.

One is clearly human, or at least has a humanish form. They rest in a meditative pose, eyes closed. A large arrow runs with the point on their forehead and down the back of their head, with two smaller points on their fisted hands, all of the marks glowing brightly. Behind them, a large mass curls, like some great beast rising above them in protection.

Their eyes open. The light that comes from their arrows also fills their eyes completely, as though it is the whites of them and they have no color. The siblings share a gasp, Sokka stepping back even as his sister steps forward.

“He’s alive! We have to help!” Before he can even process her words - and she’s right, the figure appears to be a young boy - she’s reached over his shoulder, pulling his club out of its sheath. Without pause, she pulls her hood up, charging forward towards the strange iceberg. He belatedly tries to grab her arm, failing miserably.

“Katara, get back here!” Yanking his spear out of the ice, he takes off after, hopping from floe to floe a few feet behind her. “We don’t know what that thing is!” Honestly, it could be a Spirit or a Shifter or something.

The moment his sister reaches the iceberg, she raises the club, slamming it into the berg repeatedly. He stands back to avoid getting hit by her backswing, which he knows from experience is very powerful. On her fifth swing, the weapon breaks through-

An enormous gust of wind rushes out, knocking both into the air for a moment. The moment they land, Sokka wraps both arms tightly around Katara, holding her as close to his torso as possible. The ice in front of them cracks like the first tower, fissures spreading over the entirety of the dome. In seconds, the ice explodes outwards, sending massive chunks and shards into the sky.

At the same time as the cloud of icy mist engulfs them, a beam of pure blue light shoots upwards. A beacon, one that sends out rippling waves as though the air is water. Gusts of wind still buffet against the siblings, and the ice shards begin to fall from where they’d launched.

Seeing all he needs to, he covers Katara’s head with his body, protecting her from the pieces that descend upon them. Thankfully, most of them bounce harmlessly off, and only a few poke him or leave a bruise.

As everything settles for the fourth time that hour, he looks around cautiously. The light is fading, though some still remains around the dome-turned-crater. Exchanging a look with Katara, he stands, helping her up in case her balance is skewed. He raises his spear towards the opened iceberg, aiming it in the direction of the top. His sister grabs onto his coat, at least remembering that staying within his reach makes it easier for him to defend them.

The figure emerges slowly, climbing up the ridge. They pause at the top, not moving. Resting, maybe? They don’t look that alert. Still, Sokka shakes his spear to draw their attention to it.

“Stop!”

They don’t listen, continuing to rise rather lethargically. Upon standing, they stop moving. A moment passes with the figure staring down, eyes and marks still glowing.

The light dissipates, the glowing stopping with it. As the bleaching disappears, it becomes clear that the figure definitely seems to be a young boy, likely no older than Sokka, if that. The ‘boy’ moans as whatever strength they had leaves. As such, they fall forward in a faint, tipping right over the edge. Katara rushes forward to catch them, disregarding, again , the lack of information they have over the situation.

Flipping his spear over, he pokes the ‘boy’ on the head. It seems as though they truly are flesh and bone, but flesh would freeze and bones would break if they managed to become frozen in an iceberg.

“Stop it!” Katara waves at his spear, pressing it back at him. She gives him a scowl as well, before turning back to the ‘boy’. Carefully, she props them against the wall of the crater.

Almost immediately after, their eyes begin to open. Sokka watches tensely as they immediately hone in on Katara, gasping upon seeing her - for what reason is unclear.

“I need to ask you something…” Their voice is small, as weak as they appear to be.

“What?” Stupid sisters. Stupid icebergs that glow. Stupid sisters that lean closer to the strange people that come out of glowing icebergs.

“Please… come closer.”

No. Katara. No.

“What is it?”

No. Bad sister. No getting closer to weird strangers who might be magical. That’s how people die.

“Will you go penguin-sledding with me?”

Kata- What?

Sokka’s exasperated internal monologue is interrupted by a strong sense of confusion and wariness. The boy’s voice is suddenly very clear, very happy, and very much not weak in any way.

And he asked to go penguin sledding? With a stranger?

“Uh, sure. I- I guess.” Aaand his sister just agreed to it. If this person turns out to be a Shifter, he’s definitely complaining to her in the afterlife.

Satisfied with her response, the ‘boy’ rises in a single strange motion, as though the very air is lifting him up. Sokka barely registers backing away, instead focusing on aiming his spear on the boy. For whatever insane reason, his sister does not move closer to him, even as she scrambles to stand herself.

“What’s going on here?”

“You tell us!” Sokka points at the crater, holding back his desperation for answers. “How did you get in the ice? And why aren’t you frozen?” This time, he uses the actual sharp part to poke at the ‘boy’. He’s still careful, regardless of suspicion, and is both surprised and not when there’s nothing but soft flesh and cloth.

“I’m not sure,” the boy responds, idly pushing the spear away. Sokka frowns at the move and the answer. Perhaps he’s dazed, which would make sense - or more sense in a nonsensical situation.

A low noise, like the bellow of a buffalo yak, rises up from within the iceberg-turned-crater. They all turn to the noise, but the boy does more - whether because he’s as stupidly curious as Katara or because he recognizes the sound. Sokka watches him scramble back up the ridge easily, jumping from the top to inside.

“Appa! Are you all right?”

Exchanging a look with Katara, he gestures for them to walk around the sheer ice. If the berg was opened by the club, chances are that it will have left a hole or such for the two to climb through. Or at least see what’s going on.

They do, indeed, find a hole - which is more like an uneven slice of the walls taken clean out. As they walk around the corner, the source of the noise and the boy’s exclamation becomes very very clear.

A massive creature - the mass that had been curled around the boy - is laying down in the crater, calmly licking the stranger with a tongue big enough to hold a full grown man. He’s sure his jaw has dropped, something he tries his best to not do, but he doesn’t really care, too busy trying to glean information about the creature.

Long fur, similar to a yak’s more than a buffalo yak’s. Ivory colored, with wood-brown markings that seem to follow its spine - arrows, similar to the blue ones on the boy, with some points parallel to the main line, all symmetrical. Black eyes and a massive nose, and, thankfully, the flat teeth of an herbivore.

“Ha, ha! You're okay!” The boy laughs, hugging the creature’s nose, which is big enough he’d barely be able to wrap around it. The larger being lifts, standing on six legs instead of four. Where that trait comes from is beyond him.

“What is that thing?” he asks as he cautiously approaches, one arm out to make sure Katara is behind him.

“This is Appa, my flying bison,” the stranger says casually, as if that’s entirely normal to say. Granted, this is the same stranger who was only a few minutes prior frozen in an iceberg that erupted with magical blue light when broken.

“Right.” Sokka stares for a moment, then decides to say it anyways. The rule with Shifters was to avoid their names, not much else. “And this is my flying sister.”

Katara elbows him in the side. He ignores that.

Mostly because the boy has suddenly moved. Any movement is attention-catching, sure, but the bison’s sudden inhale definitely adds to it.

Which is why he’s at least prepared to shove Katara further out of the way when the thing sneezes so violently that it’s surely several years or however long of snot sailing towards him. He manages to close his eyes and mouth, turn slightly to the right, and mostly protect stuff he really doesn’t feel like cleaning. Alas, he still ends up covered in the most disgusting thing he’s encountered since straying too close to Siqniq’s worst time in the bathing tent.

He attempts to rub it off immediately, but even taking snow to it doesn’t manage to remove the goop. Katara laughs, but even she has the eyes of someone who knows how much work is coming later.

“Don’t worry, it’ll wash out!” Sokka pointedly does not answer that, even as Katara’s laughing dies out at the thought of how fucking difficult washing is when everything freezes like the winds are blowing directly on them. Instead, he focuses on the next words from this maddened child’s mouth: “So do you guys live around here?”

He has options on how to respond, of course, and unlike Katara, he always chooses caution and subtlety.

“And do you have proof you aren’t a Shifter, or are we meant to blindly give you information?”

“What’s a Shifter?”

“They steal bodies.” Katara elbows him yet again. He continues ignoring it.

“Oh. Well, I’m not? I don’t know enough about them to prove I’m not, I guess. Would my name help?”

“Not really. Shifters can lie and you came out of the middle of an iceberg in a flash of light.”

“Ignore him.” Katara promptly shoves past, blocking her brother from further conversation. “If you were a Shifter, you wouldn’t stand out so much. I’m Katara, and this is my brother, Sokka. What’s your name, then?”

“I’m A…” The boy’s face bunches, clearly mimicking the exact expression the bison had moments prior. “A-a-a-achoo!”

Unlike the bison, the boy flies.

Well, the sneeze creates a gust of wind so strong it lifts the tiny form of the stranger up roughly ten feet. The boy promptly lands with ease, which indicates that nothing seems amiss about flying due to a sneeze. Suddenly, the iceberg is the least weird thing about the kid.

“You’re an airbender!”

Sokka startles slightly as he remembers his sister is very close to his ears. Sometimes he doesn’t know if she remembers that silence is safety if far from home.

“Sure am!”

“Definitely not a Shifter, then,” he mutters to himself, focusing on keeping his posture the same, his breathing the same, his gaze the same. No changes, no tells.

Because Katara saw it, too. She saw it, and she reacted, and now he has no chance to pretend it’s merely the Midnight Sun madness finally taking hold of him. He has to deal with the fact that the Riptide Spirit decided to drag their canoe out of its path, just so that Katara would get mad, an iceberg would appear, and then they’d find a person who should’ve been dead a hundred years ago.

An airbender. An airbender alive, and somehow in the South Pole, far away from any of the places the nomads would’ve reasonably fled to.

“Sokka, no.”

“We could manag-”

“I am not hopping floes all the way home.”

“Oh, are you guys stuck? Appa and I can help!”

Sokka lets Katara do the rest of the talking, because when she decides something, she’s stubborn. Also, she clearly remembered what he didn’t: to get home, both of the siblings would need to bend, and Sokka has never and will never do that in front of an untrusted stranger.

He is starting to trust the kid.

Still, he needs to focus on the facts and the skills that he was born to have, not the ones he was gifted. Having an airbender and a supposedly-flying bison carry them home means hosting them, and there isn’t much vegetation. Even if they had enough for such a large creature, he now has an extra mouth to feed, one that might not be built to consume some of the food they have. Gran-Gran did mention that she remembered traders whose stomachs were weak and teeth were dull, to the point they always brought food even for when they were hosted.

The light might’ve attracted the Fire Nation, too, if any were in the area. It’s the Midnight Sun, and that brings the chance of raids.

“Okay, first-time flyers, hold on tight! Appa, yip-yip!”

Sokka’s mind jolts to his surroundings again, and finds that apparently Katara has encouraged the attempt to fly. The kid snaps the reins lightly, getting a growling noise from the bison before it lifts its enormous tail up, down, and jumps.

And lands in the water with a splash, thankfully belly-first. The bison begins to swim.

“Come on, Appa. Yip-yip!”

Whether or not the bison could fly when the two were frozen in that iceberg, chances are that any muscles are cold and stiff, and need time to warm with movement before attempts work right. Honestly, an airbender having a flying bison makes sense, but Katara encouraging false hope doesn’t. He shoots her a quick glance, which she responds to with a very sharp one of her own. She must’ve realized it as soon as the beast didn’t manage what was claimed.

“Appa’s just a little tired,” Aang assures them. “A little rest and he’ll be soaring through the sky. You’ll see.” Rest is the last thing the big monster needs, but Sokka lets Katara continue with her weird bonding with the airbender-but-somehow-not-Shifter.

Spirits, his entire gut is buzzing with warning, but none of it matches the stuff he gets when he’s hunting. He feels on edge, but more like approaching the gull-beetles.

He frowns. That’s not quite right. The gull-beetles are disconcerting, given that they are both predator and prey in a normal situation, but instead have respect built between their two species. This buzzing isn’t as sickening. It isn’t pushing motion, nor respect. It feels…

It feels like a moment a long time ago, walking through a building, clutching thick fur and asking questions.

But more as if Aang is who he once was, and this Appa is carrying the boy as the Yak once carried a small firebender. Responsibility, perhaps, or a connection to the Spirits…

Oh. Fuck.

The Avatar.

“Aang!” Sokka jumps to his feet, moving quickly to join Katara at the front of the massive saddle. The airbender has collapsed again, though his breaths are just as stable. He has no visible issues, really, but being stuck in an iceberg surely causes more issues inside than out.

Without hesitating, he pulls his coat off, wrapping it around the boy, then moving to better settle the small stranger down on the flat of the saddle. He motions for Katara to move to watch, only to settle himself at the reins.

“Listen, Appa-bison-whatever, we gotta turn. Your kid needs our medicine, but that’s at the village. Turn south more.”

The bison does. At least it understands humans.

“Do you think he’s got frozen heart?”

“No, but he wasn’t shivering and he didn’t seem to be lacking heat. Pray he’s just tired.”

“Why don’t you, Mister Spirit-loved?”

“I have to steer the ‘flying’,” he makes a dramatic gesture with one hand, “bison towards our home via fastest route. You keep an eye on your new boyfriend.”

“Sokka!”

“Katara!”

The old trick works, and she coughs and clears her throat loudly to cover the laughter that tries to force its way out. She moves enough to jab him in the side, but finally settles into quiet with him.

“Wanna fish while we go?”

“SOKKA!”

“What? We lost the one we caught!”

~

The arrival at their village is, to say the least, chaotic.

Every child has immediately managed to climb the massive bison to the saddle, cheering and happy and unaware that the new creature is not a permanent addition. Katara helps distract them so he can slip past, Aang in arms, and hurry to the adults. Miki is quick to steal the airbender away, only pausing for him to brief her.

“Found him frozen in an iceberg, didn’t seem frozen himself. We think just tired from however long he was there.” Then she’s gone.

“Should I fetch the council?” He turns at Yizhi’s words, nods once, and takes a deep steadying breath.

Before turning on his heel to deal with the immense struggle that will be wrangling the children.

~

The Council of Elders is gathered much sooner than Sokka manages to extract himself from the youth of the tribe. Truly, he only managed his escape when their mothers called for sleeping.

“I am sure you’ve heard from Miki already.”

“An airbender, according to your sister,” Elder Kanna starts, gaze hardened. “Found within ice within water. He told her that he never managed to meet the Avatar.”

“Then I am of the belief he lied, though fortunately not out of malice.”

No Elder speaks after, so he takes that to mean he must share further.

“There is a sense I have developed, one of the spiritual sort. I have felt it in small moments, but memory does not fail me on the specifics. I feel that around him, and oddly around his creature. I have heard so many stories of the Avatar, and while there are no mentions of children, the Avatar is born. How he was in the ice and the water must be how he’s survived this war. And there are more than many accounts of the animals that become as guides and guards for the Avatar in each life. I would not doubt the bison is one of them.”

“And how certain would you say that the boy is not merely an airbender of a line who survived or of a Spirit’s blessing?”

How certain is he?

If the kid is the Avatar, the Fire Nation surely wants him. Surely wants to control the only one who can restore balance, who has always restored balance. Nearly invincible, of Spirits and of humans both, reincarnated every death. Is he certain that such a powerful being has been hidden by the Spirits in his youth, perhaps even unable to use the other elements? The Avatar would be told when an adult, and for his tribe that would be the dodging trial. The nomads were said to live long lives due to their harmony with the world, and someone younger than even Katara would be too young for them to consider an adult.

“How certain is the Council that we never had the Avatar?”

“Without doubt.”

“Then I am without doubt.” He straightens, settling his shoulders and raising his head properly. Confidence of a chief, even if he lacks the feeling. “We must prepare for the Fire Nation, should they discover we have an airbender. Even if we are wrong, the Fire Nation will assume the same as I.”

“He claimed that bison can fly. He could lead them away safely.”

“The bison-” He stops, clearing his throat and using the name he heard. “Appa is tired, as much so as his charge. He needs time to sleep, but also to move, and we should find something he might be able to eat. Otherwise, he is a seal away from water.”

The Elders pull away slightly, murmuring to each other to discuss what to advise him of. It takes a long time, but he uses that time to better arrange his plans. Preparations and strategies and how to get Katara to realize that Aang must surely leave if he’s to remain safe. A village that can barely fend off a raid cannot protect any single person. They were shown that even when there were so many warriors.

Appa better get his legs under him, and several hundred feet of air to pair.

“We urge you to remember, Chief Sokka, that any Fire Nation attack will risk not just this stranger, but all with bending abilities.”

Katara. Even Sokka himself.

“I remember, Elders. I shall move forward remembering it. Did Miki tell of Aang’s condition?”

“Stable and well, merely exhausted. He’ll recover within hours.”

“That is fortunate.” He bows his head to the council. “I know I can trust you with the duty of maintaining the village. I shall focus on the potential attacks to come.”

“Are there any who you will ask for help?”

“My sister, and any who have idle hands between their tasks. We can only hope our concerns are not made truth.”

“Will you sleep tonight?”

Sokka openly glares at Aputi.

“I shall ask the council to remember that I have not slept as my blood has since the Spirits touched our lives.”

Aputi makes a crude gesture, and Sokka resists making it back with every muscle. Instead, he stands, unfolding his body and moving to the door.

“I shall end this meeting now. Please, do not worry too much about my own health. I am certain you will hear Katara’s voice if I’ve forgotten something important.”

He leaves with the faint laughter of Elders behind him. Well, all but Gran-Gran, who is very loud about how amusing she finds her grandchildren.

~

Alerting the adults of the potential danger is simple enough, and explained by how the Fire Nation started the raids because they thought that the tribe might have the Avatar, and an airbender is another chance for control. Telling the children why they must be cautious is a bit more difficult, mostly because they are all enthralled from the first sentence about Aang being a bender. He’s proud of their attempts to be serious, so he clears that they may play and have fun with the first traveller in many years, but they must also be prepared to flee to safety.

“He might be nice, but trouble will come.”

“And we don’t blame the traveller for the trouble!” Iqaluk shouts the word, practically vibrating as he gets a nod to show he’s correct.

“I see you have all been spending plenty of time with the Elders. Does that mean you’re ready to greet Aang properly? Katara should nearly be done waking him.”

There are cheers, and they all rush to go stand outside the tent containing the source of so much excitement. Sokka gives Yizhi a smile as she ushers the kids a few steps back, so they won’t overwhelm. At least not by presence.

Katara comes barrelling out of the tent several minutes later, likely having checked for fever first. Aang is smiling, though that quickly changes when his first instinct is apparently bowing.

Sokka puts his boomerang away, moving to grab Aang by the arm and pull him upright.

“We don’t do that here. That’s for the North.”

“Oh. I-”

“Yeah, it was respect for you, but we just treat people like people to begin with. Katara clearly didn’t brief you before she pulled you out.”

“I was going to do that after introducing him!”

“He’s from warm folk, Katara! Achak swears on all his memories that they always bow!”

“Children.”

The two siblings pull away from each other, and Sokka winces internally that Aang suddenly looks more uncomfortable, likely from being caught between the two.

“Apologies, Elder Kanna,” the two intone at once. Predictably, she bristles at the name despite not being bothered by it.

“Aang, was it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, none of us have seen an airbender in a hundred years. We thought them extinct, until my grandchildren found you.”

“Extinct?”

Oh, they forgot. They all have forgotten that if the kid was frozen the whole time, he has no idea about the war, about the massacre of the nomads, of the raids and the deaths and the fear. And certainly not that there are no Air Nomads left in the whole world.

Besides, it seems, Aang.

Not a good feeling.

“Oh, Aang, this is my grandmother.”

“Call me Gran-Gran.”

The distraction isn’t working properly, so Sokka takes a bit more of an aggressive approach.

“What is this, anyways?” He yanks the staff out of Aang’s hands, which startles some of the children. “Thought the nomads don’t do weapons and fighting.”

Air suddenly swirls around the staff, tugging it out of Sokka’s loose grip. At least some skill in airbending, then, likely even mastered if the kid is, in fact, the Avatar, and therefore able to learn incredibly quickly from the muscle memory of generations.

“It’s not a weapon! It’s for airbending.”

The staff sprouts wings.

“Shi-hm.” He swallows the word, and takes a step back instead.

“Magic trick! Do it again!” Ziibi claps her hands, barely keeping herself from rushing to get closer. He makes a note to give her something to reward the self-control.

“Not magic. Airbending.” He moves the staff around, giving the impression it flies like birds. “This lets me control the air currents around my glider and fly.”

It certainly makes more sense for the stick with cloth to be capable of flying or at least gliding than, say, a very large and very heavy bison. Sokka, of course, does exactly what Katara’s glare is telling him to not do.

“Never seen a human fly.”

Aang beams. The dread is probably worth the lack of upset over being of an extinct people.

“I’ll be the first, then!”

He puts the glider over his back, and pushes up enough to get off the ground. A sudden wind swirls under his feet, clearly made by Aang to push up on the stiff cloth and catch it. The boy’s hands are on a piece perpendicular to the main wood, feet on a smaller similar piece at the other end. If the kid is as light as he felt when unconscious, then all that’s needed is something to hold onto and a properly strong draft and the entire thing lifts off, with human attached. The main confusing piece is mostly how the bending works, given it appears the kid isn’t using any stances, though Katara broke an entire iceberg on her own, but she was also gestur-

Katara flicks him to knock his mind back to the present just as Aang lands… directly in the watchtower.

“Really? Couldn’t avoid the one thing taller than a person?” Aang, sheepish, smiles nervously.

“I wasn’t looking. Sorry.”

“Sokka, why don’t you go cool off?”

“Fine!”

Thank the Spirits his sister knows him. Sure, he wants nothing more than to figure out if Aang really is the Avatar, but he’s getting too distracted by things that he can think about later. He needs to prepare supplies for Aang to bring when the boy leaves, maybe a few tools since there was a distinct lack of baggage on Appa’s saddle.

And he won’t be annoyed at Katara trying to show off, which she undoubtedly will when she fixes the watchtower.

~

Chores and preparations are done sooner than Sokka expected, even having to do Katara’s so she can talk with Aang more. An airbender is a lot more similar to a waterbender than… well, than Sokka is.

As soon as he’s no longer able to find other tasks, he decides to just go ahead and call for lunch. Most of the kids will go to Yuki’s tent, but, as expected, Yizhi, Katara, Aang, and Gran-Gran come in moments after the call is out. The stew is ready, if a bit cold, and though Aang clearly isn’t used to it, he eats without complaint.

“So, airbender, you’ll be going with Katara after this.”

There’s a hurried slurping gulp, which Sokka doesn’t see as much as hear, as he’s busy smirking at his sister behind his bowl.

“Oh. Is there a reason?”

“Yeah. I train the children, and Katara’s free. You can go penguin-sledding or whatever it was you asked her to do. Make sure you’re back within eight hours.”

“Don’t worry, Aang. I’m really good at keeping time during the Midnight Sun.”

The words are accompanied by a very pointed tone, no doubt directed at the waterbender’s favorite annoyance.

He purposefully finishes quickly and leaves to make sure there’s a cleared space still. After all, when gusts of winds are now much more spontaneous, the snow piles have undoubtedly changed position.

About halfway through the last pile’s relocation to the original placements, Sokka hears the chatter of the children moving to the bathing tent. Certainly an easier time this training, mostly as reward for them all trying so hard to do things correctly. Even Ziibi managed to control her body, which is very difficult for the girl to achieve on the best of days.

Maybe rolls? Landing on their feet is important, and with a new source of potential uprooting, they could use a refresher anyways.

“Men, gather!”

They trickle in at the pace it takes them to finish up. All of them try to stand tall, even as they fidget far more than usual. Definitely rolls this time.

Sokka’s gaze travels over to Appa, who has wandered through the village, all the way to a nearby wall.

“Alright, men. Today, you must practice landing properly.” He whistles follow , leading to the bison and gesturing for the creature to extend a leg. The beast does.

“Now, when you lose footing, what must you do?”

“ROLL!”

“And how long?”

“TO YOUR FEET!”

He nods, and steps back so they can make the first moves. Like proper warriors, they don’t hesitate to climb the extended leg, up into the saddle, then slide down the tail of the beast. Given the limb is propped on snow, the children are launched upwards. The first turn, none of them manage to do the entire maneuver, but several roll upon hitting one of the piles Sokka moved around, which is a start.

“Good start! Remember the technique!”

“Tuck head over feet and keep moving!”

“Correct, Ciku. Your memory serves you today!”

“Thanks, Chief-boy!”

He sighs. Ciku is one of the oldest, but that means little. She’s hardly off ten, but no matter how young Sokka started his hunting, started his chiefship, it was too young.

He’s still technically a child, after all. At least he remembers his father. That’s probably why Ciku insists on the name, on always reminding him. He shouldn’t be chief, but the children shouldn’t have to train so hard each day.

Well. No use dwelling where the ice has long since cracked.

The children are doing well. It takes only a few tries each before they’re at least all rolling when they land, braced to reduce injury. Ciku is ahead of the rest, already rolling to her feet and moving forward a few steps before starting to turn, but that’s normal. He’s more worried about Sohki’s lack of finesse. The boy is far more adept at things requiring strength distribution than balance. Stances instead of katas.

“Sohki! Over here.” The boy jogs over, face blank, which usually means a frown under the surface.

“Yes, Master Sokka?”

“For today, since it’s a temporary arrangement, stick with the others, but I think you’ll benefit from simply rolling off the piles from the ground. You roll well, have good footing, and the struggle appears when you combine them. The transition.”

“Oh.”

“That means-” Sokka lifts the boy’s head so he can tap his forehead to the other’s, “that you have different strengths, and you still get to roll down a bison’s tail and pretend to fly. Rejoin the others and have fun today, okay?”

“Okay.” Sohki shifts for a moment, before hugging Sokka round the waist and rushing back over to the others. Sweet. Hopefully never lost to the harsh realities the world could provide. Maybe he can get the kid som-

A very bright light and a noise that echoes snap his attention to the sky.

Red shooting up. A signal.

“Kids, play but get ready to hide! Trouble will come sooner than hoped!”

He gets a chorus of whistles of heard , and relies on that to propel him away from them. Yizhi is already moving to take his place.

He’s just outside the tent when Katara and Aang come rushing towards him. They have a few weapons in their arms, many of which are metal.

“We’re so sorry, Sokka! Aang tripped and we didn’t know what it was doing enough to stop it!”

“I can help if you need it! I didn’t mean to cause trouble!”

Sokka grunts as he grabs the weapons and dumps them just inside the tent. Then, in one motion, he grabs Aang and shoves the boy towards where Appa and the children are.

“You need to leave. That flare will alert the Fire Nation, and they’ll be coming. For your safety, and for ours, leave now.” He doesn’t wait, because time isn’t a resource he has a lot of right now. Instead, he rushes through the tent properly, finding his gear.

Ready and waiting, as they always are.

The clothes are first, and then his weapons. Strapped, wrapped, tied and tugged. Double-check or lose your neck.

He makes sure that his clothes are secure, his boots, his gloves. He flicks the tails on his shoulders, attached by Achak to give his feet speed and his thoughts clarity and cleverness.

He closes his eyes, takes a breath, and finishes the process. There is no time for grieving right now.

He applies the paint swiftly, grey and black and white. Tiger-seals give strength, persistence, and camouflage.

He lights the last candle of the village with a flick, bowing his head over it to mutter the last prayer to Agni he might ever say.

Oh, he was gonna kill her.

First the insistence on using his ideas, then the Marks. This was it. This was the final straw.

“KATARA! GET THE FU-”

Miki threw a hand over his mouth, gesturing at the children gathered nearby. He gave her a look and pulled her hand off.

“You realize they’ve had lessons with Gran Gran, right?”

“So wait until they say it, then you can’t take the blame.”

“Gran Gran will dispute any claim that someone besides her is a worse influence.”

Miki glared at him for a moment, before breaking off with a huff of amusement.

“Alright, well, I’ll get your sister and you can whisper it to her so we’re both happy.”

“ Fine .”

Sokka waited, arms crossed and stance blocky, as though prepared to fight. Which he was, though not in a physical way as his posture suggested. He wasn’t mad , really, but he was still mad. It-

Katara came to stand by him, hands behind her back, holding back a grin, nearly rocking on her heels waiting for him to speak.

He didn’t, just to spite her.

It took ten minutes for her to break.

“Do you wanna watch the birds?”

He turned his head, glowering at her. She let the grin out, pleased with her work. To her, it was the proper way to end his birthday celebrations.

“Huuh, yeah. C’mon. If it collapses on me, I’m taking you down with.”

A watchtower wasn’t that useful without something to watch for and a person to watch for it. However, standing next to his sister, laughing as she pointed out the best birds for him to hit with Boomerang… it was worth having her gloat about being the best sister ever.

She really was.

~

The siblings got better, as time passed, at everything.

Katas were easily muscle memory. Their bending skills weren’t masterful by any means, but it was adequate, and instinctual, which meant it would help them last.

Both of them became skilled with their needles, though Katara rarely attempted embroidery. She preferred to spend her time training the tribe to fight and hunt and fish like Sokka had taught her, or to practice her bending on her own.

Katara excelled at keeping things clean and orderly and at storing things in the optimal way. This was evidenced by how their tent never got messy, regardless of Sokka’s own excellence in creating chaos.

Meanwhile, Sokka could cook like no one’s business. Kitchi was proud, having come in multiple times to give him traditional recipes to memorize. Though none of the tribe would ever bring it up - or admit to it in any way - many of them “wandered” past their tent at mealtimes when the chief was around. If they just so happened to have something to talk to him about right as he was done cooking, then it was not their fault that he always served them some food as they talked.

Katara had no hesitancy in declaring that Sokka Food was the best food to ever exist. No, she did not take constructive criticism. No, she would not let Sokka take it either.

She also had no hesitancy in asking to have tap-stick moments with her brother.

So they both got practice in on nearly everything, and they both did their best to share those skills with the tribe. The tribe, in turn, did its best to adjust and follow the lead of the chief and his advisor.

~

The Council of Elders had its first meeting three days before Katara’s birthday. It was her present, according to Sokka, though that was actually a new coat made of wolf badger fur with snow rat tails on the shoulders. He hoped she liked it, and the embroidery he did of the animals.

Gran Gran was supportive, both of having a council and of him annoying his sister, as a good grandmother is.

He had chosen five elders to join him, the five that he knew and trusted the best, and the others were understanding of not being picked. In fact, he got an affectionate hair ruffle from Toki over it.

At the twelfth hour, Achak, Kanna, Aputi, Kitchi, and Yuki joined him in a tent that hadn’t been used for a while, due to the lack of people. They each had serious looks on their faces, which he guessed was a courtesy to him.

“Greetings, Elders.”

“Greetings, Chief Sokka,” Elder Kanna intoned, bowing her head slightly. He kept himself from shifting awkwardly at the title. He was chief, and this was a council meeting.

They sat in a circle, facing each other on the same level. Together, they came up with procedures on how to continue with future meetings, the responsibilities the Council of Elders would hold, and the way to choose new Elders to join.

The Council agreed that they would start a discussion on the current ways of the tribe at the next meeting. Sokka was glad that no one commented on his nerves, or on his struggles to find the most eloquent ways to say things.

At least this would all be good practice, should he ever need to meet with another high-ranking person.