REVELATiON

deux: lessons learned

I suppose it's alright to want, to wish, but what of taking? Is it action that condemns those thoughts? This is my line of thinking, so forgive me. There's just too much at risk …

-oOo-

From somewhere on the other side of the palace library, a door swung open.

Prince Mizurou looked up from the book he was reading and watched as the woman who had just entered crossed the wide room in a few quick steps, not even bothering to take the time and enjoy its beauty. Most houseguests were struck with awe at the sight of the gleaming wood floor, on top of which rows and rows of intricately carved and completely filled bookshelves sat, towering high above them, barely touching the painted ceiling. From it, many golden candelabra's hung, set ablaze, filling the room with light. There were no windows, for such portals to the outside world were scarce in the polar village, anyway. Perhaps the villagers had never wanted to gaze upon the scenery more often than was absolutely necessary. The prince didn't blame them; it was a cold, dreary place. Part of him had always hated it.

The woman was hovering in front of him now, but Mizurou had long since returned to his reading. He didn't feel like initiating the inevitable conversation. Honestly, he was a little afraid to after the previous day's events. But after several moments had passed in silence without the woman moving and without the boy progressing to the next page, he decided something had to be done.

"You just do whatever you want, don't you?"

Despite his rudeness, the woman was not taken aback. Despite everything that had taken place the day before, she had expected no less from him. She had left him alone right after revealing her purpose without another word, and surely, as soon as she was out of sight, he had attempted cleared his head and continue with his sulking. As she had been laying in her extremely comfortable guest alone that night on the other end of the palace, she knew that he had been just as awake and just as alone as she, trying his best to forget again. This, she was certain of.

Still, she felt the need to say something unexpected in response. "Is that any way to treat your best friend?"

Mizurou winced. This again? "Must I remind you that I'm not him?"

"Ah, but you are him, so you might as well get used to it."

Before the boy lowered the book away from his face, Katara caught the title and smirked. Sozin's Hundred-Year War. At least he was somewhat interested in his past.

Mizurou rolled his eyes. "Yes, Ma'am," he said mockingly.

Katara ignored his comment. "I suppose you and I are both mentioned in that book you're reading."

The boy snapped the book shut. Then he paused for a split second before lowering his eyes back to the cover, examining it as if he had never seen it before, as if to say, "Oh, is that what I was reading?" However, it wasn't long before he sighed and nodded. "Yes, you and he are both mentioned in it, but unfortunately for you, they make the two of you out as having absolutely no good qualities. In fact, according to the author, you and Aang are entirely antagonistic."

Katara raised an eyebrow. Nowadays, she made a habit of letting nothing surprise her, but this fact caught her off guard. No one had ever looked upon her and Aang with anything less than admiration when the end of the century-long war was the topic, unless, of course—

Mizurou turned the book around so that the front was visible to her, and that's when she noticed the faded red tint of the leather binding, the harsh lines of the characters that made up the title, and the hard-to-miss fire nation insignia on the bottom right corner.

"From the Imperial Fire Nation House of Records," he said. "First edition. Quite expensive. Dated right after the end of the war. The author, Fei Tse, was an Ozai loyalist who caused a bit of an uprising once. He stowed away on an Earth Kingdom ship that was exporting jasmine tea to the Fire Nation and, with the help of a few rogue Dai Li agents, made it all the way to Ba Sing Se and started a riot before the Fire Lord's forces caught up with him. He was a wanted man, wanted for several things, but he was a good writer."

"Hmm." Katara tilted her head. "Any reason why you chose a book of that perspective?"

"What makes you think a book by another author would be any less biased?" the boy said as he tossed the book into an adjacent pile of works with similar topics. Katara let her eyes wander to the stack, examining what he had been reading. "The Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe opinions of those events are roughly the same, given the fact that they were fighting on the same side as the Avatar and towards the same goal. Being royalty and having grown up in the latter of the two, obviously, these opinions and versions of events have been engrained into my head by my private history tutors practically since birth. It was about time I got my hands onto something different. So, I took the initiative and bought it. Amazing what money can do, isn't it?"

The woman frowned as she slowly walked toward the pile of books and began gently pushing those on top aside, as if looking for something. Mizurou watched her the entire time, concentrating on her every movement, on every flick of her wrist, on every shift of her feet or hips, on her neck as she turned her head. He wasn't quite sure where this slight obsession with her was coming from, or why he felt so calm when his heart rate was speeding up and his palms were surely getting sweaty. It was strange, this feeling coming over him, these emotions that were slowly bottling up as if something foreign and dangerous was inside him, longing to get out. When his eye began to twitch annoyingly, the prince decided he absolutely could not sit in silence any longer, and once again he broke it.

"So, what amazing, fancy, 'new' waterbending tricks have you come here to teach me, Master? You said that was why you were here, after all."

Katara paused and turned to the teen. "Actually, Your Highness, I said nothing of the sort. I said that my purpose was to teach you everything you needed to know about being the Avatar, and seeing as you are already a waterbending master, and I have not won any special award for being the first non-Avatar to control more than one element, that could hardly include a lesson on bending, could it?"

The young prince grunted. He had been so overwhelmed with the urge to speak to her just seconds earlier that he had not caught the stupidity in his statement. Now that he was feeling more like his normal self again, he was determined not to make a similar error. "Well, why did you come here, then? Surely you didn't just come to tell me a story …"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Katara said with a smile as she reached down and pulled a blue velvet ottoman out from underneath the prince's feet, letting them fall to the ground with a thud and forcing the boy to sit more upright. After seating herself, she said, "I came to tell you the story of your life as Aang, or at least what I know of it." She crossed her legs and folded her arms in her lap. "Now," she said, "where to start …"

Mizurou, temporarily putting aside the fact that he absolutely hated these kinds of stories, rolled his eyes once more and said, "How about you start at the beginning?"

Katara shook her head. "No," she said, "that's not a good place. Besides, it seems you already know that much." She waved her hand at the reorganized pile of books beside Mizurou's chair, on top of which now sat a book titled Biography of Avatar Aang. A slender black bookmark was sticking out of it, having been placed a few pages in. "I encourage you not to read any more of that, by the way," she continued. "Much of it isn't true, and what I tell you will have absolutely no significance if your head is filled with nonsense. No," she repeated, "the beginning is not a good place to begin. A good place to begin is about a year later, around the time that book by Fei should end."

The prince frowned and, his brows furrowed, his lips pursed, his arms folded tightly across his chest, he fell back into a more comfortable position. "Enlighten me."

-oOo-

It was all over, but nothing could have stopped the tears from falling.

She had watched it happen. She had seen him rise up into the air, a long-absent glow present in his eyes as the Avatar State took control of him one last time. She had held on as tight as she possible could to the frame of the throne room doorway as hurricane-force winds had sent debris flying every which-way and a blinding white light filled the room to its capacity.

The deed was done. The world fell silent as the light faded and the dark, scorched room became visible once more. There were no more screams, no more shouts, only a single, dreadful thud sounded as two lifeless bodies came crashing to the ground.

And then, an ear-splitting cry of, "Aang!"

The fifteen-year-old girl had dashed across the room, leaping over the first, larger body to fall beside the smaller second. She lifted him up by his shoulders and proceeded to shake him, thinking that somehow, someway, her actions would snap him out of unconsciousness.

"Aang, please," she pleaded. "Please, please wake up …"

But it was no use. He was gone, completely gone, and nothing, not even the cries of his dearest friend could bring him back.

And so she had pulled him up to rest against her chest, cradling him in her arms, holding him close, one fragment of her shattered heart wanting, for some reason, to protect him against further harm while another still clung to the hope that any second now, he'd open his eyes, wrap his arms around her neck, and tell her everything was going to be alright.

Still, she knew deep down that it would never be so.

As the tears continued to seep out from beneath her closed eyelids and the sobs continued to wrack her body, she couldn't help but reminisce about the times when her best friend had still been alive. She remembered his smile, his laugh, his touch, and his kiss. Yes, most of all, she remembered the one time he had dared to place his soft lips upon hers. Perhaps this was why it hurt so much. Of course, she knew that his death would have been painful to her anyway, but that one moment in time made the loss that much worse.

It was appropriate, she thought, that she had never felt more dead inside, and his life was flashing before her eyes.

Some moments later, strong arms had pried the Avatar's body gently from her grip and another pair, belonging to her brother, had pulled her weak self into a loving embrace. Eventually, her sibling had coaxed her to her feet and led her down a long hallway and outside a ways, but her eyes remained fixed, yet not focused, on her feet.

Finally, she was lead inside another building, a door was closed behind her, and her brother released his hold on her. After having stood alone on wobbly legs for a moment, she allowed herself to look up. Not far away, surrounding a low bed on three sides, were Water Tribe healers and soldiers, friends and acquaintances, Toph, Haru, Teo, and others. Her eyes fell immediately on the body of her deceased friend, lying peacefully on the bed, his eyes closed. He was completely devoid of life, yet he looked so much like he had only just fallen asleep.

Oh, why does it have to be this way?

She had just stood there, staring at him, for the longest time. Her eyes remained dry as she watched, for she felt as if she could cry no more tears. Then, a gentle hand on her shoulder had awakened her. She turned her head to the side to come face to face with her brother, who was smiling sadly.

How dare he smile at a time like this?

"Here," he'd said, holding a short, folded piece of parchment out to her. "We found it tucked in his robes. I … I think it's meant for you to read."

The girl blinked once as she stared at the note being offered to her before she took it in her own shaking hands. It was slightly burnt around the edges, and in the middle of it, in quick, messy handwriting, was written When I'm Gone.

One look at those words was all it had taken to send her over the edge.

Dropping the piece of parchment, the girl had dashed over to her best friend's body and collapsed on top of him, sobbing into his chest as she kneeled, her hands splayed just in front of where her head rested. He was cold and dead beneath her, but that didn't stop her from yelling at him as if he could still hear her.

"Why did you do this to me, Aang? Why?" she cried. "How could you be so foolish, so stupid? Didn't you know what this would do to us? To me? How could you? How could you? We went through so much together!"

His robes were soaked beneath her face, her tears having been relentless. She gripped his shirt tighter, and then she added, so no one else in the room could hear—

"We … we might even have been in love …"

The moment the words escaped her lips, she knew something inside of her had changed. She suddenly felt a released, as if bottled-up emotions had been released or a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt lighter, fuller, and strangely confidant, though of what she could not guess. Slowly, she lifted her head up, and it was then that she noticed something spectacular.

His shirt was dry, her hands were hovering above his heart, and they were glowing.

An audible gasp was uttered by every person in the room as they realized what was taking place. Katara's hands had begun to heal an invisible wound on their own. Sokka stepped forward to join Katara at the side of the bed, his eyes wide as he, too, took in this incredible sight. Katara slowly rose to her feet, careful not to disturb the placement of her hands as she continued to heal … or, at least, she hoped she was healing.

Then, she felt the cold beneath her fingers begin to melt away as Aang's skin began to warm. She could feel the water inside of him ease along in his blood vessels, slow at first, and then progressively faster. And she swore that she yelped and jumped a foot into the air when she felt the tiniest thump under her palms, causing all of those around her to mirror her actions.

He had a pulse …

Quickly, her head turned to the side, as did everyone else's, and her gaze fell upon his pale face. She watched the color return to his cheeks, watched his brows furrow ever so slightly.

And that's when his eyes fluttered open.

Instantly, his gaze locked with Katara's, and he smiled weakly. In a hoarse voice, he asked, "How long was I out?"

Loud cheering from the background, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and lips pressed to his quickly-reddening cheek were all he got for an answer.

-oOo-

"So you brought the Avatar back to life, did you?" Mizurou asked in a dull tone, trying not to give away how impressed he really was with this old woman's story.

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "I don't think you were ever really dead. Not completely, anyway," she said, though she sounded a little bit confused by her own wording. She shrugged again and added, "We'll call it 'spiritual overload' for the time being, and for lack of a better title." Then she laughed. "You had a very bad habit of scaring people like that. The day you defeated Fire Lord Ozai was not the first time you pulled such a stunt. How could we ever forget the events of Ba Sing Se …?"

The prince grunted. "Even I know that story," he said.

Katara nodded. "Yes, well, Azula didn't really try to keep it quiet, did she? Still, she did pass the credit on to someone else … That girl wasn't stupid you know."

The woman then stood, pushed the ottoman back toward the slouching prince, and turned as if to head back toward the door. The prince, not expecting this from her, sat upright immediately and leaned forward. A part of him didn't want her to leave.

"W-wait!" he called after her, ashamed of the way he'd faltered. In a more confident, superior tone, he added, "I mean, after all of that fuss yesterday, that's all you're going to tell me?"

Katara, without turning back around to face him, replied, "For now, anyway." A genuine was evident in her voice as she said, "Relax. The rest can wait another day. Besides, we've got all the time in the world."

And, with that, she left him alone.

-- ZD