Avatar XXX

In the cold non-light of the morning, the security forces trained in the yard. Arrow after arrow piercing the bullseye, and the arrow that had fired before it until they stuck out the other-side completely. On high, the captain of the base observed their work, whilst taking a meeting with a man who had sailed a long way to get there.

“Absolutely not,” Colonel Shinu stated bluntly. “The Yu-Yan Archers stay here. Your request is denied, Commander Zhao.”

Both men stood with their hands tucked formally behind their backs, watching the archers run their drills. “Colonel Shinu, please reconsider,” responded Zhao in an equally neutral tone. “Their precision is legendary. The Yu-Yan can pin a fly to a tree one hundred yards away without killing it. You’re wasting their talents using them as mere security guards.”

Zhao broke his formality, hands dropping to his side as he turned to face the Colonel. 

“I can do whatever I want with their talents,” Shinu turned his head to address Zhao. “They’re my archers and what I say goes.”

“But my search for the Avata-”

“Is nothing but a vanity project,” Shinu cut off Zhao, moving to confront him. Zhao towered over the Colonel, and yet only a few words made the commander seem oh so small. His face whimpered to a stunned silence as the Colonel continued. “We’re fighting a real war here, and I need every man I’ve got, Commander.”

Shinu turned away from Zhao, no longer amused by the tall man.

“Bu-” Zhao managed to squeak out.

“That’s final.” The blunt statement earned Zhao a final scorn as Shinu turned again, now angered by Zhao’s mere presence. “I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

Zhao growled to himself, stewing in his own anger as Shinu once again turned to leave. The screech of a messenger hawk interrupted the two men. They looked up to find it swooping low towards them, a red ribbon on its satchel. Shinu put out his armoured forearm, giving the bird somewhere to perch. The hawk landed, presenting its case to the Colonel. The cap came open with a pop, with Shinu removing the parchment from inside. The bird departed as quickly as it arrived, leaving Shinu to read over the letter’s contents. His eyes went wide with shock. From behind him, the Commander spotted the sigil on the paper. Straight from the Royal Palace, this hawk had come.

“News from Fire Lord Ozai?” Zhao questioned.

Shinu wordlessly handed the paper off to the Commander, dreading what was to come next. Zhao moved past the Colonel, shoulder-checking the man as he read.

“It appears I’ve been promoted to Admiral,” Zhao’s voice was oily with malice and satisfaction. “My request is now an order.”

Shinu bit his tongue and bowed low, moving off to inform the Yu-Yan of their new mission. Zhao watched over the archers again, beaming with pride and self-righteousness. 

Unbeknownst to either of the men, a Blue Spirit had heard everything.

It was a city, Aang suspected, that had belonged to some of the very first people to form civilisation. The bending style that carved the strange mountainside city was archaic and lacking in grace, yet still beautiful all the same. They weren’t even a day’s flight from the coast where that fishing village had been. The storm clouds still lingered overhead, clearly not quite done despite dropping enough water to flood the lands nearby. The cool winter air was not helping Sokka rest, shivering inside his sleep bag. The Water Tribe warrior was simultaneously too hot and too cold, leaving him in only his smallclothes but completely wrapped up in his sleeping bag and their tent’s tarp.

Katara patted the sweat away from her brother’s forehead as the man shivered. “This should bring your fever down,” Katara commented as she patted Sokka’s face with the cold, wet rag.

“You know what I love about Appa the most?” Sokka asked, his voice hoarse with sickness and a clear misunderstanding of his situation. “His sense of humour.”

Sokka’s normally bronze skin was a few shades lighter and redder, his face flushed with sickness.

“That’s nice,” The Water Tribe bimbo smirked. “I’ll tell him.”

Appa, whom Sokka was resting on, groaned in appreciation at the compliment. Sokka gave some weak laughs, closing his eyes as he did so and finding he did not have the strength to reopen them. “Classic Appa.”

Footfalls brought Katara’s attention around to find Aang strolling over to the duo. He had gone off to search the temple for supplies. Sokka had been seeming a bit ill since the day before, during which they had waited for the rain to stop with the old couple in the fishing village. The Water Tribe warrior had developed a serious cough, but insisted he was fine. They had only gotten an hour into their flight today before Sokka had collapsed in Appa’s saddle. They had landed here, with Katara setting up Sokka whilst Aang went foraging, hoping to find something for Sokka. The old man had indeed not paid Sokka much for his work, citing his need to replace his ship first and foremost. As such, the group had skimped out on medical supplies and were now paying the price for it.

“How’s Sokka doing?” Aang asked. He noted that Katara had donned her massive parka with the hole where her tits often pushed through. Only now, she was wearing her tunic underneath, as well as Sokka’s pants. The Air Nomad grimaced, worrying that Katara seemed to be layering up. She had gone all the way from Omashu to just yesterday in nothing but a tunic, not even so much as wearing small clothes below the waist. She had never once complained of the cold, loving the feeling of nudity and easy access it provided her numerous partners. Yet now, she was bundled up.

“Not so good,” replied Katara, turning to look at Aang. “Being out in that storm really did a number on him.”

“I couldn’t find any ginger root for the tea,” The Avatar continued. “But I found a map of the local area. There’s an herbalist institute on the top of that mountain.”

Aang laid the old parchment out before Katara, revealing indeed a map of the surrounding area. He turned, gesturing towards a mountain a few miles away, its peak a distant point, barely visible against the dark grey clouds of the early morning.

“We could probably find a cure for Sokka there,” The Avatar finished.

“Aang, he’s in no condition to travel,” Katara replied in her soft tone. “Sokka just needs more rest. I’m sure he’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

As soon as the last word exited Katara’s mouth, the Waterbender was overtaken with a coughing fit. She doubled over, heaving and wheezing in pain. When it stopped, she looked at her hand, which had caught the spray. Mucus and blood covered her palm. Quickly, she hid it from Aang. However, the Air Nomad had heard the coughing all the same. He was on his feet, concern across his face.

“Not you too!” He exclaimed.

“Relax,” Katara tried to reassure him. “It was just a little cough, I’m fin-”

She was taken again with another coughing fit.

“The hell you are, that’s how Sokka started yesterday,” stated Aang. “Now look at him, he thinks he’s an Earthbender!”

“Take that, you rock!” Sokka cried, throwing a punch in the air, his nude form half hanging out of his sleeping bag.

Aang turned back to Katara. “You’re already wearing way more than normal; you must be freezing if you’ve got your parka and Sokka’s pants on. Sokka was out there for a while, but you went out into it completely nude! A few more hours and you’ll be talking nonsense, too. I’m going to find some medicine.”

He rolled up the scroll, leaving it on the floor. Staff in hand, Aang moved to the edge of the open window that was on the side of the chamber they were hiding in. He unfurled his staff, preparing to leap and fly towards the mountain. A massive bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, nearly blinding the monk.

Crap, this storm’s about to start up again He realised. The staff was closed back up and placed down, leaning against the wall.

“Uh, maybe it’s safer if I go on foot,” Aang commented to himself.

He turned back to his companions. Appa was lounging, with Katara and Sokka both lying down upon his side. Momo was sitting upon the Sky Bison’s horn, looking down at the two sick Water Tribesmen.

“Keep an eye on ‘em, guys,” Aang called to Momo and Appa. Both critters chittered and grunted at the command.

Sokka let out a laugh at Appa’s joke. “You guys are killing me.”

The Air Nomad turned, grimacing in concern for his friends. With a blast of air, he threw himself from the chambers, flying down the mountainside from rock to rock. At the bottom of the city-in-the-side, he took off running as fast as he could, as a massive gust of wind trailed behind him. A small sonic boom filled the area as he reached his top speed, disappearing down the trail in a cloud of air.

Near the coastline, not far from the fishing village, a lone, small Fire Navy ship sailed. Men worked on repairing the damage the helm had sustained, whilst others gathered in the damaged room to discuss their plan of action.

Jee, Eeko, Zuko, and nearly every warrior on board were studying the maps of the local area. The banished prince’s arms were folded in front of his chest as he listened to Jee’s report.

“We haven’t been able to pick up the Avatar’s trail since the storm,” He explained. “But if we continue heading Northeas-”

A shadow covered the room, bringing all parties inside to a standstill. A massive Fire Navy ship, dwarfing Zuko’s, pulled up alongside, sounding its horn.

“What do they want?” Zuko hissed in annoyance.

“Perhaps a sporting game of Pai Sho,” Iroh commented. He, unlike the warriors, was playing sitting with the cook and some of the engineers not currently working on repairs around a board game table. He had been besting all on the crew for several hours now and was showing no signs of stopping.

On deck, two gangplanks were attached to Zuko’s meagre vessel. A squadron of men descended to Zuko’s deck and were brought up to the helm. There, the leader of the men presented all present with a scroll, unfurling it to reveal a wanted poster for a familiar face.

“The hunt for the Avatar has been given prime importance. All information regarding the Avatar must be reported directly to Admiral Zhao,” The Fire Nation Sargent stated.

“Zhao had been promoted?” mused Iroh as he pondered his next move. “Well, good for him.” He slid a tile over, finishing the match in a stunning move none of his opponents had predicted.

“I’ve got nothing to report to Zhao,” Zuko hissed under his breath. “Now get off my ship and let us pass.”

“Admiral Zhao is not allowing ships in or out of this area,” The Sargent replied.

“Off my ship!” Zuko barked, gesturing back to their own vessel.

The Fire Navy soldiers turned and left without another word.

“Excellent,” Iroh chuckled. “I take the pot!”

He reached out, scooping up the mountain of coins they had been wagering for the game. “But you are all improving. I’m certain you will win if we play again.”

The cook reset the board, foolishly believing the retired general. Zuko watched the Fire Navy ship depart through the damaged window of the command room, his hands clenched in fists of rage, smoke rising from his knuckles.

“It says here the Avatar can create tornadoes and run faster than the wind,” Mao said in awe as he read directly from the wanted poster for the Avatar. He looked up at his scout companion. “Pretty amazing.”

“Ahh, that’s just a bunch of Fire Lord propaganda,” Maoze replied curtly, turning away from the far-eye he was using to patrol the mountain pass they were guarding. “There’s no way that’s true.”

He turned back, watching for signs of oncoming Earth Kingdom soldiers. The pass was three curling loops around the mountain, giving them ample time to spot and stop the enemy. A dust cloud appeared on the first loop, then the second, then the third.

What the hell Maoze thought Are they using smoke screens?

The dust cloud, however, he realised, was moving and getting closer. An orange blur flew past them, sending a mass of dust and debris up into their faces. With a forceful CRACK, the entire treetop hideaway they were in was thrown to the ground, uncovering the two patrolmen. Maoze and Mao exchanged a glance, both knowing full well what had just occurred.

The alarm horn sounded off, but Aang was too far away to hear it.

“Katara, please,” Sokka croaked out weakly. “Water.”

Katara had drunk all the water in her pouch, leaving them without any more. Weakly, the Waterbender looked up at Momo, forcing her eyes open.

“Listen carefully, Momo,” Katara wheezed out. “I need you to take this to the river and fill it with water.” She held up her water satchel she kept her bending water in.

Her long-winded explanation, laying out each step very carefully, was taken in by the Lemur-Bat, who seemed to be listening intently. She took the satchel and flew off.

“How long is she gonna take?” Sokka asked.

“I don’t know,” Katara replied. “Fuck, I’m so thirsty.”

“Me too,” Sokka replied.

Katara looked over at her brother, watching the haggard breath escaping his mouth. She shuddered, watching his tongue flip whichever way it wanted to. She rolled over, inching over to her brother.

“Well, if we’re both sick,” She reasoned, embracing her brother’s mouth with an open tongue kiss. Sokka shuddered at the sudden touch, quickly rallying to fight his tongue against her own. Her hand went to his face, caressing it gently. Sokka felt his cock begin to stir, the cloud over his mind clearing up just enough to enjoy the embrace of Katara’s body on his own. Their overheating forms left each other in a pleasurable daze as they caressed one another.

“Katara,” Sokka grunted weakly. “Help me get out of this sleeping bag.”

Katara’s loopy head looked down across the sleeping bag, seeing Sokka’s massive cock beating against the materials.

Cock Katara moaned to herself. Her hands were not exactly the most dexterous things in the moment, haphazardly pulling at the sleeping bag. Please, c’mon. Cock. Cock! 

With a yank that took nearly all of Katara’s strength, the sleeping bag was removed, exposing Sokka’s nude body. His massive cock sprang upwards, lurching through the air as it rocked back and forth. Katara’s fog began to clear as her shivering hands wrapped around Sokka’s thick, warm cock. The pulsing feeling of his heartbeat made Katara shudder, feeling her cunt soak itself in Sokka’s breeches. Her hand stroked his massive pole slowly, using what little strength she had left to deliver pleasure to her brother. Sokka shuddered at the touch, the cool skin of his own suddenly flush with heat. His rigid cock felt so distinct upon his body. An erection of painful hardness jutting from his cold skin, a twisting brown tree trunk driven into his pelvis with two massive, heavy balls sat in a squishy, soft sack.

Her mouth began to open reflexively. Suddenly, the hunger for cock overtook her need for water. “So …thirsty,” Katara wheezed out. A tug on Sokka’s massive shaft brought the tip down towards her head. A massive glob of pre-cum dripped from his piss-slit down onto Katara’s head, splattering just above her right eye. Its warmth soothed the headache the frigid girl felt.

“Fuck,” Katara coughed, “I need more.”

Her hot, moist mouth swallowed Sokka’s massive pole, taking the entire head of his shaft into her oral cavity, followed by several more inches. Sokka’s head pressed into Appa’s fur as the feeling of pleasure cleared some of the fog on his head. His body stopped shivering for a moment as his sick sister swallowed half his cock. Her hands went to Sokka’s ball sack, needing and massaging his swollen testicles. Katara let out a few moans, the taste of Sokka’s dick in her mouth rallying some strength inside her.

She’d never be too sick to suck a cock.

Sokka, meanwhile, was lying down, completely pinned by his curvy sister’s form. Her own ankles placed on both of his shoulder blades, locking him in place. His entire view was taken up by his own breeches, currently covering Katara’s thick thighs and massive ass. A dark spot was obviously forming near her cunt.

So thirsty Sokka thought. She can fix them later

Katara’s mind was lost in the pleasure of Sokka’s dick in her mouth, her tongue making love to the shaft. Still, the sudden feeling of a tear in her breeches made her yelp around Sokka’s dick. A moment later, it was followed by a longing moan as Sokka’s tongue lapped at her soaked cunt. Katara swallowed more of Sokka’s cock, trying to encourage her brother to continue without removing his succulent stick from her mouth. Her hands continued to massage his ball sack, her innate bending allowing her to feel the load his was brewing inside.

Sokka’s face was pressed up against Katara’s curves, his tongue exploring the inside of his sister’s twat. She was practically gushing squirt, and a little bit of piss. Though a woman, Katara seemed to have a female equivalent of backed-up balls, as her cunt was all too eager to spray into Sokka’s mouth. A glob of pre-cum filled Katara’s lips, big enough to fill a cup for drinking. Katara swallowed eagerly. Even with the taste of salt, it was enough to soothe her aching throat.

More Katara thought. Her eyes were closed, focusing all of her senses on the pleasure of having a fat cock stuffed into her mouth. More! Cum for me, Sokka

Sokka began thrusting to the best of his current ability into Katara’s mouth. The cold mountain air was making his skin gooseflesh, and the warm, inviting hole of her slutty mouth was just the remedy he needed. One of his arms was tossed up over Katara’s small back, pressing her curvy hips further into his face, driving his tongue as far as he could inside her. Katara moaned, sending vibrations up and down Sokka’s cock at the action. The entire member bucked inside Katara’s mouth; his release was close. Her release was nearing as well, her core clenching hard as another spray of squirt exploded into Sokka’s mouth, satiating the water-tribesmen for the moment.

I can’t keep waiting Katara decided. Her hand lifted from Sokka’s ball sack. Fingers danced through the air before a flick of her wrist sent Sokka’s balls spiralling with an intense orgasm. Sokka screeched into Katara’s cunt as the biggest cum blast (quite literally every drop of sperm in his balls) shot up through his massive cock, causing the shaft to bulge and expand from the sheer volume of cum rushing up to his cock tip. It exploded into Katara’s mouth, the Water Tribe bimbo swallowing as quickly as she could, her massive cheeks filling instantly, full again by the time she finished swallowing.

Sokka’s balls contracted back up into his body with the intensity of his orgasm. His entire form shuddered as the orgasm rocked his body. Katara’s stomach pressed against her tight tunic and parka, swelling with her brother’s cum. After a moment, Katara pulled off his deflating cock, coughing and retching for air. Spittle and cum dripping down onto her parka.

Katara rolled over, her head closer to Sokka’s now. “Thank you, that should hold us over ‘till Momo gets back,” Katara said. “Fuck, I’m so cold.”

Sokka began haphazardly pulling his sleeping bag up. “Get in,” He wheezed.

Katara sat up, feeling the world spinning around her. She kicked off the ripped breeches, the busted parka, and the tight tunic. The two nude siblings crawled into the tight sleeping bag. Katara’s hands instinctively wrapped around Sokka’s cock.

“M-much better,” Katara shivered. Katara and Sokka kissed, both falling to sleep in a lull of post sex lethargy.

A massive staircase lay before Aang. The Air Nomad had been running for nearly two hours straight. His heart beat was a thudding drum in his ears, his legs screaming for a break, aching muscles resisting and groaning in pain as Aang took to the steep incline, slamming up steps three at a time. The top of the steep incline was a great gate, circular in its entrance of tan stone topped with emerald green tiles. A large temple lay directly down the path, with a large wooden hunt off to the right. A second, thinner, taller temple lay behind the first, next to a taller stone spire. Aang centred himself, drawing in a heavy breath. His eyes shut, listening to the wind. Someone was moving around in the hut, he determined. He sprinted in, kicking up a massive blast of dust.

Inside, he found the hut was truly a greenhouse, filled with dozens of plants and other greenery, some local and native, most not. There was a cat, covered in fur, on the floor, but the real sole occupant of the room was an elderly woman, shorter than Aang. Her grey hair was well-washed and kept in a high, simple bun. A twig was in the arch, which kept it up. She wore long, flowing robes the colour of a cool mint green. She picked some leaves from a nearby plant and began to mortar and pestle the ingredients, barely even acknowledging Aang’s rude entrance, storming in with a puff of smoke.

“Hello!” Aang exclaimed, out of breath. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, but I need some medicine for my friends. They have fevers, and they’ve been coughing an-”

“Settle down, young man,” The herbalist said softly as she continued her work. “Your friends are going to be fine.”

Old, delicate hands gripped the pestle, moving away with the mix as she scanned the many, unlabelled plants, “I’ve been up here for over forty years, you know. Used to be others, but they all left years ago. Now it’s just me and Miyuki.”

The woman reached out to the bench nearby, where the cat had jumped up onto. She scratched lovingly at the furry creature.

“That’s nice,” Aang said anxiously, watching the old woman’s hands as she continued to mix whatever she was working on.

“Wounded Earth Kingdom troops still come by now and again,” The herbalist continued. “Brave boys. And thanks to my remedies, they always leave in better shape than when they arrived.”

“That’s nice,” Aang repeated. “Are you almost finished?”

“Hold on,” The herbalist said, putting down her mixer. She turned, walking further into the greenhouse. “I just need to add one last ingredient.”

Aang rubbed his temples as he watched the old woman stroll rather casually through her overgrown greenery. “Ooh, sandalwood … oh yes … no … that won’t do …”

His foot began to tap rapidly, thinking of Sokka and Katara back where he had left them. Sokka was fading so fast, and Katara didn’t seem that far behind!

The herbalist stroked her chin, examining another plant. “Banana leaf? Ehh …nope. Ginger root? Uh-uh …”

Aang let out a groan as the herbalist doubled back passed things she had already dismissed. “Where is that pesky little plant?”

Aang sat down at the bench, slamming his head down on the table. For several more minutes, he listened to the Herbalist pace back and forth, writing off plant after plant until.

“Oh, here’s what I was looking for!” She exclaimed. “Plum blossom.”

Aang grunted as he sat up. “Finally.”

She returned to the bench, dropping the grey coloured planet into the pestle. She mixed it all. The second the mortar exited, Aang reached out, grabbing the bowl.

“Thanks for your help!” He exclaimed. The herbalist’s hand went up her robe, pulling out a metal bar. With a quick swing, she slammed it into Aang’s fingers, forcing the Avatar to let go of the bowl.

“Ouch! What the hell!” Aang exclaimed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The herbalist snapped.

“Take the cure to my friends!” Aang replied, recoiling in fear as she held the bar high above his head.

Her face, a look of intense anger, broke into one of the friendliest smiles Aang had ever laid eyes upon. “Oh! Hahahah! This isn’t a cure. It’s Miyuki’s dinner. Plum blossom is her favourite.” She placed the bowl upon the counter. Miyuki sprinted over, quickly consuming the green mush that had been prepared for her. The old woman stroked the cat’s back as it ate.

“What about my friends?” asked Aang, tense and anxious from having wasted so much time.

“Well, all they need is some frozen wood frogs,” chuckled the herbalist. “Sounds like they caught something in that storm that passed through yesterday. There’s plenty of them down in the valley swamp.”

“What am I supposed to do with frozen frogs?” Aang asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Why suck on them, of course,” Cheered the herbalist, earning a shocked recoil from Aang. 

“Suck on them?” He repeated. Man … I don’t think even Katara would go for this

“The frog’s skin excretes a substance that’ll cure your friends, but make sure you get plenty. Once those little critters thaw out, they’re useless,” The herbalist explained.

Aang paused for a moment, studying the wicked smile upon her face. “You’re insane, aren’t you?” He asked.

“That’s right,” She nodded proudly, turning away from Aang to get back to work.

So whatever they excrete must be what freezes them. And once it thaws, it won’t have whatever they need Aang reasoned.

“Well, don’t just stand there!” The herbalist exclaimed. “Go!”

She flung her wooden spoon out, sending a hurl of mush into Aang’s face. The Avatar nodded, turning to leave. He wiped the gunk from his face and burst through the entrance to the greenhouse. The storm was rolling in again, high winds, wiping at Aang’s face.

Frozen wood frogs Aang reminded himself Just grab half a dozen and get back to wait out this storm. Hope you get lucky twice and don’t get sick

Aang came to a dead stop as something pinned down his boots. He let out a shout of surprise as he collapsed forward, pinned in place by two arrows embedded in his boots, having just barely missed his feet. He looked up, spotting a barrage of arrows flying at him.

Shit! Aang realised. He summoned a tempest of air, struggling to hold its form against the high winds of the storm. It expanded out enough, slamming the dozen or so arrows out of the sky. They hit the ground with soft thuds. Aang pulled the two arrows from his boots, freeing himself.

“Uhhh …” He lifted one of the arrows. “I think you dropped this!” He called out to the tree in front of him, where the volley had come from.

Leering into the tree, Aang could make out more than a dozen archers, clad in dark brown and red, almost invisible against the muted sky and deep dark.

Fuck! Aang felt his body freeze in fear for a moment. The archers let loose their second volley. Aang leapt up, pressing off the ground with air. Two of the shots sliced at his legs, but the rest missed. He landed back where he had been, sprinting for the gateway. Four more archers appeared, rising from the tall grass and blocking his path, their arrows already knocked.

Aang skidded to a halt, looking over to the tree, spotting that the others had finished reloading. The four directly in front of him fired off a spray. Another air leap kept the arrows from piercing Aang’s form, but once again just barely.

They’re learning to compensate for my bending! Aang realized Only three shots in, and they’ve already grazed me

Aang turned running back towards the greenhouse.

No, I can’t hurt that old lady He realised. He turned to his right, pressing down hard with his feet. A blast of Airbending sent Aang up to his top speed, just in time to outrun the arrows slamming into the ground behind him. He reached the edge of the plateau that housed the apothecary. Without hesitation, Aang leapt over the edge, plummeting towards the valley and swamp below.

What the Air Nomad failed to notice was that half a dozen archers had followed him over the edge. Rain began to spray down hair upon the group, soaking them instantly. It was just as intense as the storm the day before. Aang let out a blast of air, trying to soften his blow as he impacted with the trees below. He screamed and grunted in pain as the sharp branches and twigs ripped Aang to shreds, cutting him along the arms, legs, and stomach. The archers landed with more finesse, swinging with roped arrows through the trees. Aang managed to right himself and began leaping from tree trunk to tree trunk, all the while having the arrows scrape past, cutting him all over.

Aang pushed off a tree trunk with an airblast, flying through the foliage and exiting the tree line. He plummeted down several feet into the half-frozen swamp water as rain pounded him. He screamed at the impact, feeling the thick swamp mud and frigid water soak him entirely. 

Shit … I made it, just gotta get some frogs and get out of here Aang thought. His fingers plunged into the half-frozen bog. His hand resurfaced a moment later with a frozen reptile.

“A frog!” Aang exclaimed. His cheer was followed by a scream of pain. A well-placed arrow came careening down, piercing through the frozen frog and out through the other-side of Aang’s hand. “AHHHHH!” Aang turned, spotting the approaching archers.

He gave a few quick pants, grabbing the arrow piercing his left hand with his right. With a scream, Aang bent the arrow shaft, snapping the wooden projectile. He dropped it into the water before pulling the part that had pierced his hand out, coated in blood. He dropped it and the now dead frog into the water. His left hand was weak, a hole through the flesh. Still, the Avatar forged on, plunging both hands into the water, retrieving frozen frog after frozen frog, trudging through the sludge and dodging the arrows best he could. Another shot came down, embedding into his back on the right side.

No … gotta … get out of here Aang gritted his teeth, his entire body alight with pain from the numerous cuts that covered him Just a few more frogs

He pulled another from the water, holding it up in his left hand. Another scream pierced the wind as an arrow ran through Aang’s forearm, pinning him to a downed tree trunk behind him. Three more followed, one pinning his clothing, the other two piercing his bicep. Aang’s entire left arm went numb, blood leaking out. The archers lined up, letting off another volley. Aang used his free arm to summon a wall of water, freezing it into ice as a shield. One after another, the arrows hit. All in the same spot, splitting the arrow before and driving the metal tip further into the ice. Finally, one pierced through, shattering the bent wall. Another volley of arrows slammed into Aang’s free arm, piercing his skin and clothes. Finally, a net covered the pinned man. One of the archers walked over to Aang. The Avatar opened his mouth, pulling in a massive gut of air. The archer reached back, pulling out something resembling a stick of explosives. He cracked it in half, filling the air with a purple smoke. It was quickly pulled into the Avatar’s lungs by his massive inhale.

Aang’s lungs began to burn from the strange smoke, and he lost all the strength he had, coughing and wheezing. His entire form went numb, eyes closing.

The storm clouds lingered in the distance. Zuko was on the deck of his ship, alone. He was dressed in his sparring gear, plus actual breeches. He left off several heavy blasts of fire, grunting in fury with each as they licked through the cool winter air.  He stopped his exercise for a moment, seething in his rage.

“Is everything okay?” A familiar voice called behind him. Zuko didn’t reply, unable to face his uncle. “It’s been almost an hour, and you haven’t given the men an order.”

“I don’t care what they do,” Zuko replied, turning to look at Iroh, despair thick in his voice.

“Don’t give up hope yet,” Iroh preached. “You can still find the Avatar before Zhao.”

“How, uncle?!” Zuko exclaimed, turning to look at the old man, despair now overpowering any other emotion in his words. “With Zhao’s resources, it’s just a matter of time before he captures the Avatar!”

He turned away from the retired general, looking out over the water. “My honour, my throne, my country … I’m about to lose them all.”

The fog over Aang’s mind finally lifted. He felt a twisting, burning pain in his arms. He looked around, finding himself restrained in a large room of metal. His shirt and gi were gone, leaving the monk in only his torn-up breeches and boots. His entire torso was wrapped in bandages, large splotches of his own dried blood underneath them. Even his hands were patched up. His left hand still felt terribly weak. The entire room was a blank, windowless box of metal, reflecting the fire on the many torches around the area.

He pushed through the extreme pain, pulling on the chains, feeling the familiar sting of wounds reopening as he strained his wrists against the restraints. The sound of the door opening hit Aang’s ears, but the monk struggled on.

“So, this is the great Avatar,” A voice stated. Aang looked away from the restraints and saw a familiar face. “Master of all the elements.”

He only had vague memories of the fight on Roku’s temple island, but he knew the Fire Nation soldier’s face from that.

I’ve seen him before Aang gritted his teeth Does he work for Zuko?

The man had his arms tucked behind his back. He was dressed in an officer's uniform, including breeches and a shawl over his chest. He smirked at Aang like a hunter examining his prize. The sound of his feet pacing filled the space as he continued.

“I don’t know how you’ve managed to elude the Fire Nation for one hundred years, but your little hide and seek game is over,” He stated, now behind Aang.

Aang yanked on the chains, “I’ve never hidden from you!” He growled. “Untie me, and I’ll fight you right now!”

“Uhh … no,” The man scoffed, walking away from Aang. He stopped, turning to look at him. “Tell me, how does it feel to be the only Airbender left? Do you miss your people?”

He leaned in, closing the distance between himself and Aang’s face. Aang’s scowl turned to pain; he looked away, refusing to meet the Fire Nation soldier’s gaze. The man stood, turning away from Aang again.

“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t be killed like they were,” He gloated. “See … if you die, you’ll just be reborn, and the Fire Nation will have to start its search for the Avatar all over again. So I’ll keep you alive … but just barely.”

He began to walk away. Aang drew in a sharp breath, his lungs still scratchy and pained from whatever he had breathed in. With a sharp exhalation, he propelled the man off his feet, throwing him across the room and slamming him against the wall.

The man stood, rubbing his head. “Blow all the wind you want,” He growled. “Your situation is futile. There is no escaping this fortress. And no one is coming to rescue you.”

The door opened, and the man marched out, leaving Aang alone in his prison.

Coughs escaped Sokka’s lips, awakening Katara. She had fallen asleep upon the bare chest of her brother as they struggled to stay warm together. Her foggy mind tried to drink in the world around her, but the mere act of evening opening her eyes felt now a pained struggle. Her nude body ran hot against his, a thick pool of sweat making each of them slick against one another. Katara could feel his half-hard dock resting just below her soaking wet cunt. It seemed nothing would ever stop her from being aroused. Sokka let out another few grunting coughs, trying to clear his throat.

“Water,” He croaked out.

Katara sighed, nuzzling into Sokka’s chest for comfort. “Momo should be back any minute,” The bimbo replied. Her finger traced around Sokka’s lean form, stopping at each of the numerous scars he had begun to collect since their journey began nearly two months back. The worst one lay on his lower left abdomen, where one of the pirates had driven their knife deep into Sokka’s stomach. Her fingers danced across the thick slash, tracing it. She felt Sokka’s cock twitch ever so slightly. She knew he enjoyed having his scars touched, it made him feel manly.

The familiar chitter of a lemur-bat brought Katara from her fugue state long enough to see Momo approaching. Katara rolled over her top half, twisting around in the cramped sleeping bag. Her tits immediately spilt out and over into the cold air. Momo crawled up to her, depositing a dead vole-rat right in front of her on her bare tits.

Katara shrieked at the sight, feeling the scratchy fur upon her soft skin. “No, Momo,” She said weakly, “Water. Wa-ter.” She annunciated hard, trying to whisper the word into the little lemur-bat’s mind. Momo chittered, nodding her head. Turning, she sprinted off, disappearing.

Katara rolled back over, grinding her twat into her brother’s cock, feeling his starting to get stiff.

Why did I have to completely drain his balls before? I’m already thirsty again Katara thought. She focused her mind on Sokka’s low-hanging sack, his balls overheating in the sleeping bag despite the man himself feeling cold. There was a small bit of cum inside them, she could feel. She bit her lip, the taste still somewhat fresh in her mouth.

She rolled her head over, looking off to the mountains Aang had gone to. The violent storm had passed through the area again, and it had rained for hours and hours; the sound of it lulled both siblings to sleep, but now it seemed close to sunset. Aang had left before noon.

Aang Katara pondered What in the world is taking you so long?

Sokka shuddered underneath her, his half-hard cock inflating, pressing against her soaking wet cunt. Katara moaned at the comfort her brother’s cock was offering her in the moment.

Aang … please hurry She thought.

Admiral Zhao stepped out onto the balcony. The watch tower looked over a massive field on its innermost gate. Ornate painted metal displaying massive jets of flame scrapped and burned up the wall behind the Admiral, lit by two large braziers.  On either side, he was flanked by a stenographer and Colonel Shinu. Two score legions of Fire Nation soldiers stood at attention, just before sunrise. His lips curled into a sadistic smile. Pride swelled like a building flame in his chest, puffing it out. Hands, tucked behind his back, curled into fists. Even the cool dawn air was not enough to discourage him as he spoke. He inhaled sharply.

“We are the sons and daughters of fire!” He declared. “The Superior Element! Until today, only one thing stood in our path to victory - The Avatar! I am here to tell you that he is now my prisoner!”

The soldiers below saluted, an outstretched arm, hands curled as if to produce a flame that did not exist. Zhao’s smirk curled into a distorted, cruel smile. He raised a fist into the air. “This is the year Sozin’s Comet returns to grant us its power!”

Another powerful cry came from the legions of troops below. His troops. The power in each of Zhao’s breaths was stirring inside the man. “This is the year the Fire Nation breaks through the walls of Ba-Sing-Se, and burns the city to the ground!”

Four hefty cheers erupted, some of the palms of the benders erupting in flames, saluting their admiral.

Zhao continued, declaring dominating statement after dominating statement.

Unknown to the prideful admiral, a Blue Spirit had slipped past his security. Hidden under and inside a cart of supplies from their base across the mountains. The guard had called all-clear, but had failed to notice the figure. As Zhao’s words had commanded the attention of all the guards and sentries all across the three walls, a Blue Spirit had slipped past them all, using a rope to reach the inner yard, disappearing into the grates of the sewer system, passing through the metal bars like a wily trickster.

Aang pulled and struggled against his chains, flexing every muscle in his system, feeling the restraints dig hard into his skin. The gauze covering his body was like a ragged red shirt from the amount of blood that had seeped from his now very open wounds into it. It was no use, for all of Aang’s struggles, the metal was too strong. Not even the pillars he was attached to had begun to buckle.

The airbender let out a sigh. The sounds of fire, grunts, and hits came from the large metal door, just beyond the Avatar. Aang raised a curious eyebrow, wondering what had just made the ruckus. The sound of the latch unhinging greeted the monk’s ears. Into the room stepped a form hard to discern in the dim torchlight. A black body suit with heavy black boots. Grey gloves with a black sash about the waist. A sword with an ornate golden handle, upon his back in a brown leather sheath. Upon their face, a porcelain mask of blue and white, like a dragon nuo mask.

What the hell Aang wondered, staring at the figure who shut the door tight behind them. He gasped as the figure pulled the sword from their back. It spun around in the air as the figure slashed and sliced. The sword seemed to separate, the handle becoming two, the blade becoming two, one in each hand. They charged at Aang, the Airbender shrieking and closing his eyes. The tension against his arms went slack.

Aang opened his eyes to find the figure now directly in front of him, a lithe, thin thing. The chains on his arms cut clean through, now dangle from freed wrists. Two more slashes removed the manacles from Aang’s wrist and the restraints on his feet. Aang rubbed his raw wrists, feeling the sting of the metal even if they were no longer there. The figure turned, moving back towards the door.

“Who are you?” Aang called. “What’s going on? Are you here to rescue me?”

The figure replied with an action, opening the door to the chamber. and looking back at Aang.

I’ll take that as a yes Aang thought, moving off the pedestal he had been confined to. In the hallway, he found an unconscious firebender that had been guarding him, soaked with water and a wooden bucket tossed to the ground. The alarm horn had a throwing knife through it and was also on the ground, so ways away from the man. Three other guards were around the corner, bound and gagged and suspended in the air by a chain.

They passed a chamber, a small room that Aang would have paid no mind to until he heard Ribbit

He turned quickly, rushing into the room. Half-thawed out frogs lined the floors, soaked in the water of their melted form. His ragged, destroyed shirt and gi lay upon a table, but the Air Nomad ignored them.

“My frogs!” He exclaimed, dropping to the floor and scrambling to pick them up. “Come back! And stop thawing out!”

He had only one in his hand when a firm, leathered hand grabbed his shoulder. Aang looked up to find a Blue Spirit dragging him off. The Air Nomad was pulled from the room like it was nothing, like he weighed nothing.

“Wait!” Aang protested. “My friends need to suck on those frogs!”

Dawn was approaching. Katara and Sokka had shivered together all through the night, restless as their overheating forms grinded together. Lying about them in piles near the long since dead fire were all the trinkets and knick-knacks Momo had managed to return with, not a drop of water amongst the musty antiques. As the early morning sun peaked through the mountain tops, the Lemur-Bat swooped low, returning to her impromptu nest.

This time, there was noise to greet her. Instead of the usual coughs and splutters, it was a wet slapping with moans and grunts, both low and high.

Katara was on all fours, with massive tits swaying and bouncing whilst her ass rippled and clapped with every thrust. Sokka was behind her on his knees, one hand wrapped firmly around her long braid, the other digging hard into her fleshy hips. His hard cock was buried to his ball sack inside her soaking wet pussy. They had been going at it since halfway through the evening, when Sokka’s cock sprang up in their sleeping bag and had refused to settle back down. Both of them were still loopy and feeling quite sick, but after going nearly twenty-four hours without drinking or eating anything, neither of them was feeling any worse for wear. What’s more, the physical activity kept them alert and helped to pass the time.

“Deeper!” Katara moaned, unable to scream as she was sure it would send her into a coughing fit.

“I’m buried to the base,” Sokka replied. “Unless you want me to put my balls in too!”

“Oooh, if you can then do it,” Katara moaned, grinding her massive ass into her brother’s pelvis. “Just don’t stop fucking me!”

“I couldn’t if I tried, my dick has a mind of its own right now, and its only thought is how much it wants to flood this soaking wet pussy,” Sokka replied, his face flush from the workout his sister was giving him and from the effects of his sickness. In between all the grunting and moaning, he was still wheezing and shivering. His cock’s desire for snatch right now was proving more potent.

Momo swooped in, landing on Katara’s shoulder. The Water Tribe bimbo registered the feeling of something on her head. A hand went up, feeling at a metal tiara covered in gems.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Momo?” Katara lamented, coughing hard. “We need water. Wa-ter.”

Momo chittered at her, cocking her head to one side. Katara shook her head, slick with sweat from the overheating and the sex. “Oh, forget it.”

A shiver hit Katara, turning her skin to gooseflesh. She came around Sokka’s cock hard, her head spinning from the whiplash of the sickness. Her front half collapsed into the dusty stones of their shelter, her massive rack absorbing the impact as they hit the ground the moment she collapsed. The tiara stayed upon her head. Katara drew in haggard breaths as Sokka picked up the pace of his thrusts into her unprotected cunt. Her entire form began to convulse from pleasure cascading out from her core.

“Aang,” She managed to eke out, “Please hurry.”

“Who is this Aang kid you keep talking about, your Highness?” Sokka asked.

Katara cast a curious glance back at Sokka as he continued to dig out her cunt.

He doesn’t even realise he’s fucking his own sister Katara thought Fuck … that’s kind of hot~!

Sokka spanked Katara’s massive ass cheek hard. For a moment, he didn’t even seem sick. The Water Tribe bimbo quickly discerned, however, that Sokka was still quite sick. In fact, he was so sick that he wasn’t truly registering everything around him. She wasn’t even entirely sure he knew he was having sex, let alone sex with her.

Sokka thrust into her, hilting inside her. A moment later, his cock erupted with a blast of semen, swelling her stomach. The warmth of the cum now felt sour against her overheating guts, causing Katara’s head to spin even more. She began taking large gasps of air, trying to regain herself.

Fuck, Aang, where are you? She wondered.

Concluding his speech, Admiral Zhao and the stenographer made their way back into the temple and back towards the chamber which housed the Avatar. Another round of gloating would satiate the Admiral’s ego before the last airbender was to be rendered unconscious and delivered to Fire Lord Ozai, along with the many, many other tributes Zhao was preparing.

“I want a full transcription of my speech sent to the Fire Lord,” Zhao stated confidently, “Along with glowing testimonials from all of the ranking officers present an-”

His list of demands was cut short as the sight ahead came into focus. A guard, unconscious on the ground, a bucket, and the alarm horn were all lying haphazardly around him. Zhao’s heart skipped a beat in rage. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Three guards, suspended by chains, were bleeding and knocked out as well.

No He swore in his mind. He rushed down the hallway, throwing open the chamber door. Inside, there was only mangled chains attached to pillars. And not a man in sight.

A scowl replaced the smirk Zhao had been wearing so confidently all day, turning with a brisk jerk and almost sprinting back the way he came. The stenographer watched him leave.

“Sir, shall I hold off sending that speech to the Fire Lord?” He called, chasing after the Admiral.

The figure and Aang made their way back towards the wall, the way it had entered. Passing through the sewers to avoid the patrols, finally reached the back wall. A Blue Spirit went first, checking their surroundings. The mask looked down at Aang, pointing upwards. Aang nodded, a stern look on his face. A Blue Spirit entered the yards, ascending from the grates of the sewers, followed by the last airbender. A rope hung from the wall across from them. Aang and a Blue Spirit raced over to it. Aang went first, struggling to climb against the pain in his arms, but working through it well enough.

They were halfway up the rope when an alarm chime rang out, turning the silent sunrise into a panic-filled ascension. Aang and a Blue Spirit froze, looking around, wondering what had given them away.

“There!” A voice below called. “On the wall!”

Spearmen were swarming around them, staring up at their forms against the cold metal wall. Up above, a guard upon the wall reached where the rope hung from. With a quick slash, the line was cut. Aang and his saviour fell to the ground. The Air Nomad turned around, sending a blast of air to cushion their impact. They rose to their feet quickly, with a Blue Spirit drawing their blades. With their right arm, they pointed to the three open gates that lay upon the far side of the yard. Aang nodded to his saviour and the duo sprinted off, rushing the guards coming in to surround them.

“The Avatar has escaped!” Zhao’s voice boomed through the yard as he shrieked the declaration from the balcony. “Close all the gates immediately!”

The guards scrambled, drawing their weapons and running towards the two charging them. With a lurch and a grunt, the metal gates began to slide closed. Aang summoned wind to his feet, rushing past his liberator.

“Stay close to me,” He ordered, rushing for the door. A wall of spearmen lined up, brandishing their weapons at the duo. Aang leapt into the air, summoning wind beneath his feet. A jet of air blasted across the ground as Aang made contact with it, dividing the men into two groups. A second blast tossed them all off their feet, slamming back down with brutal impacts that knocked them out. Aang rushed past the pile of bodies, but two more spearmen engaged his saviour, pinning a Blue Spirit down with their weapons, barely countered in time by the broad swords the liberator had. Aang reached the gate, tossing a glance back at the figure. He skidded to a halt, realising a Blue Spirit was pinned down by spearmen, now four in total.

He barely dodged out of the way of another attack, the spear tip flying underneath his armpit. Aang twirled around with a grunt, grabbing the weapon that had nearly impaled him. He lifted his foot, blasting the man on the other end of the spear with a gust, sending him flying and surrendering the spear to him. He thrust it down at an angle, breaking off the metal tip. With another gust of wind, Aang raced back towards his saviour, now surrounded by spearmen. Aang propped the impromptu staff up onto his shoulders, wincing at the pain in his arms. He rushed forward, running faster than the wind. A small sonic boom echoed through the yard as Aang raced around the spearmen surrounding a Blue Spirit. In a flash, they were all thrown to the sides, leaving the liberator alone in the field.

Aang stopped in his tracks, looking into the mask of the figure currently saving his life. He summoned air to the tip of his staff, flinging it around, screaming and grunting in pain from the wound’s cries for him to cease these jerking motions. With a massive blast of air, a Blue Spirit went flying, landing upon the top of the wall. A Blue Spirit scrambled to their feet, holding their blades out, facing down a dozen guards on either side of them.

A weight hit the back of their neck, athletic legs wrapping around their chest. They were lifted from the wall, looking up to find Aang, still bleeding and wincing in pain, spinning the staff over his head to propel them through the air. The weight of the duo was clearly a struggle for the Air Nomad, working hard to keep them aloft. They faltered a few times in the relatively short distance between walls. From below, spears thrown by the soldiers arched up towards them, being knocked away by a Blue Spirit. Still, the combination of these jerking motions and the blood loss and wounds upon Aang’s arms sent them crashing down, just barely reaching the second wall.

Once again, guards rushed them. This time, they were armed with swords instead of spears. Aang, despite his injuries, was the first on his feet, rushing for his staff. With a grunt, one of the soldiers kicked it out of the way, swinging his blade at the monk. Aang dodged every swing, barely staying ahead of the blade. He circled the man, taking a stance for his bending.

My arms are on fire Aang thought, realising his hands were shaking.

A Blue Spirit wrapped its arms around the man, throwing him over the edge of the wall. The liberator then grabbed their weapons again, engaging the swordsmen. Aang summoned what little strength he had left, sending the last of the guards on either side of them flying with blasts of air. Down below, in the first yard, three large siege ladders of bamboo hit the wall, the lead man on each rushing up the wall. As they reached the top, Aang sent two of them flying with air blasts whilst a Blue Spirit engaged the third. Aang leapt up onto the wall, looking directly down the ladder. He took a sharp breath in, summoning all the air he could. A torrent of wind sprayed downwards, throwing everyone on the ladder ot the ground and clearing the immediate area around it. The guards on the second ladder froze in fear as the wind whipped across their faces. They looked up once it died down to find Aang above them, repeating the attack. With a scream, they went tumbling to the ground.

The third ladder was cleared off, with the last man beaten away by a Blue Spirit. Aang, carrying the two ladders he had secured in either hand, rushed over to them, tossing one to the saviour. “Take this,” he ordered.

The monk turned, leaping up over the wall and onto the third ladder, still leaning against the wall. He balanced the ladder in his own hands out evenly as it tilted forward.

“Jump on my back!” Aang called. A moment later, the monk grunted in pain as the full weight of his liberators slammed into his own. A Blue Spirit wrapped its legs around Aang’s. The ladder reached its apex, leaning forward as it began to plummet to the ground. Aang spun the ladder in his hands around, sending it to the ground with a bowing motion. With a blast of air, he sent it in another sway like the first one had been, manoeuvring from the first to the second as it sprang up, the first falling to the ground.

“Give me the next one!” Aang demanded as they reached the apex of the ladder’s sway. A Blue Spirit handed Aang the ladder wordlessly, and the monk repeated the motion, transferring from the second to the third. He had spaced it out perfectly; the third ladder would drop and deposit them upon the outermost wall.

Perfect Aang smirked in self-satisfaction.

Down below, a soldier set the base of the bamboo siege ladder on fire, ripping up the wood, causing the escape vehicle to lose its form. Aang looked down, watching his idea crumble, pieces of charred wood already beginning to fall off. The flames approached the duo as the ladder reached its apex. Aang pressed off from the ladder, blasting himself up with air. They flew through the open space, slamming into the side of the wall. Aang’s weakened arms couldn’t get a grip on the cold metal, nor could a Blue Spirit.

They fell to the ground, landing just in front of the inside of the outermost gate. They rose to their feet, the liberator drawing their weapons. A squadron of Firebenders launched a bombardment. Aang pulled a Blue Spirit away from the blast, summoning an air shield around them. It sapped the last of Aang’s strength.

I won’t be able to hold this for long Aang thought.

“Hold your fire!” Called Admiral Zhao. The men relented, not a moment too soon. Aang’s arms fell slack at his side, his entire gauze form now completely red. “The Avatar must be captured alive.”

Aang felt something sharp against his throat, a sting from an open wound as the fresh cut on his throat bled onto the broadswords of a Blue Spirit, currently held against his throat.

What the hell! Aang froze in fear, his arms useless at his side What is going on! I’m gonna die!

Zhao stared into the mask of the assailant assisting the Avatar. A blank, expressionless nuo, impossible to see through. Still, something about the thief’s posture rang familiar in his mind. Something in it told Zhao the truth - this thief was ready to kill the Avatar.

“Open the gate,” He said quietly, but sternly.

“Admiral, what are you doing?” Colonel Shuni, who was standing next to Zhao, protested.

“Let them out,” Zhao ordered, now more sternly, growling the demand. “Now!”

The gate behind Aang and the one holding a blade to his throat opened. Slowly, they backed out of the yard and out onto the road leading away from the base.

“How could you let them go?” Colonel Shinu cocked his head, staring at Zhao.

“A situation like this requires … precision,” Zhao replied, turning and moving back into the base.

Three Yu-Yan archers had come rushing at the alarm, having been resting since their successful capture of the Avatar. Zhao selected the captain and ordered the man to follow him. They ascended to the top of the first wall, watching as the Avatar and his thief backed away slowly down the road, all the while keeping blades to the monk’s throat.

The Yu-Yan archer knocked his arrow, pulling it back on the string.

“Do you have a clear shot?” Zhao glanced over to the archer.

The archer did not reply, only closing one eye and keeping his bow tense.

“Knock out the thief. I’ll deliver him to the Fire Lord along with the Avatar,” Zhao ordered. 

The arrow was loosed.

Aang felt something rush past him. The blades fell away from his throat. With a ringing clang, a Blue Spirit fell to the ground. Aang turned to look and figure out what had happened. The mask was now cracked in half, an arrow flung to the side near the man underneath it. Both swords lay on the ground. The mask had been loosened, with the sashes holding it in place now undone. Aang froze.

Z … Zuko Aang thought, spotting a familiar piece of scarred skin between the mask and the black hood.

Aang turned around, spotting a group of Yu-Yan archers firing upon him, with soldiers rushing from the gate. Aang summoned a massive blast of air, wincing through the pain. The arrows went flying, and Aang and Zuko disappeared in a smoke screen.

“Quick!” Zhao shouted. “Recover the Avatar!”

Aang turned, lifting his weak arms and pulling the mask from Zuko’s face. A small wound on Zuko’s forehead from where the arrow had hit him was bleeding, but beyond that, he was unhurt.

What … why would he … Aang fell away from Zuko in fear. He rose to his feet, sprinting away from the unconscious man. He only got a few feet before he stopped, turning back to gaze upon Zuko’s form.

He rescued me Aang swallowed.

The dust cloud cleared as the spearmen arrived, finding only the broken mask of a Blue Spirit.

The sunlight peered through the canopy of tree tops. Zuko’s eyes took a moment to adjust, struggling against the throbbing pain on his forehead. His entire body felt slow and tired.

Where am I? Zuko wondered. He recalled the events of the night, backing out of the outpost, and then His gaze rolled to his right, spotting the Avatar, sitting nearby, above him on a tree branch. The man had removed all the bloody gauze from his form, now letting his half-open wounds bleed into the air. Zuko let out a groan, staring up at his quarry. The Monk seemed sombre.

“You know what the worst part about being born over a hundred years ago is?” Aang mused aloud, realising Zuko was awake. “I miss all the friends I used to hang out with. Before the war started, I used to always visit my friend Kuzon. The two of us would get in and out of so much trouble together. I had my first orgy with him. He was one of the best friends I ever had, and he was from the Fire Nation, just like you. If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends too?”

Aang looked down at Zuko, the banished prince staring silently, taking in the Monk’s story. His leg swung up through the air, a sharp inhale. Aang leapt up, flying up into the trees as a torrent of fire leapt from Zuko’s fist. Aang turned, leaping from branch to branch, disappearing into the canopy, never looking back. Zuko watched him leave. Something in his chest twisted, not physically but emotionally. His hard expression softened as a strange sensation overtook the prince.

It took him a few hours to figure out a way back to his personal skiff. Onboard were his Fire Nation uniform and some maps of the local area. He set off, changing back from his Blue Spirit garb into his armour. He arrived at the rendezvous he had selected with his men before departing the day before. The ship was hauled back aboard. Zuko made his way through the lower decks out onto the deck, crossing it towards the helm where his room lay.

On the deck was Iroh, with a tsungi horn, smiling at his nephew. “Where have you been, Prince Zuko?” He asked. “You missed music night. Lieutenant Jee sang a stirring love song. I know Eeko was hoping to get some of those stirs out with you; she had to settle for Jee and the rest of the crew, but I think she’d still like to see you.”

Zuko paid his uncle's words little mind, marching into the helm. “I am going to bed.” He stated, just loud enough for Iroh to hear. The retired general shrugged and began to play his music again.

Zuko reached his quarters, stripping off his armour and replacing his swords upon the wall. Tired and still feeling a bit off, Zuko lay down upon his cot, staring up at the large Fire Nation emblem that hung over it, before turning over to get some rest.

Aang returned to the valley, collecting a mere three frogs. He trekked back to the location he had left his companions over a day prior, still too exhausted from his night to use any bending. He arrived back, shirtless, bleeding, and dead tired. The only greeting he got was from Momo, the Lemur-Bat, stirring from her sleep to watch the monk approach.

Sokka and Katara were once again sharing a sleeping bag, embracing each other, trying their best to stay warm. Aang pulled two of the frozen wood frogs from his pockets, popping one into each of their mouths before they could protest.

“Suck on these,” He said somberly. “It’ll make you feel better.”

He moved away from them, barely registering the arousing moans from Katara as she enthusiastically sucked on the item in her mouth. He moved around to the other side of Appa, falling onto the sky bison’s tail. Lethargy set into his muscles, keeping the Avatar pinned there as the tiredness of the day set in.

“Aang,” Sokka called. “How was your trip? Did you make any new friends?”

“No,” Aang replied, too soft for Sokka to hear. “I don’t think I did.”