The Price of Peace

Summary – Aang arrives at the village of Mahaku and finds survivors.

Interlude One –

The volcano had left little in its path except bits and pieces of the lives that had once been there. Stepping on the newest layer of hardened earth, Aang winced. It was still warm. With little thought, he cooled the black rock and made his way into what remained of Aunt Wu’s village.

Few had survived. Those who did were huddled beneath an outcropping of trees that had miraculously been untouched. There were few patches of untouched earth, verifying the rumors of Firebenders.

Aang frowned. There were so many questions. How had the Firebenders manipulated molten rock?

“Aang!” a familiar voice called out. “Over here!”

Looking over his shoulder, the Avatar waved at Sokka. In a way, he envied the tall Water Tribe warrior. He still wore the traditional garb of his people, his warrior’s tale having grown wild. Unlike Katara, Sokka had stayed with him when he had decided to return to the Southern Air Temple. Katara had returned to the Southern Water Tribe in an effort to help rebuild their village.

After the war and the four years of peace negotiations, Aang had returned to the Southern Air Temple – truly the last of his kind. Sokka had followed him, staying remarkably quiet and out of the way. When Aang had first arrived at the temple, he had gone to his old room and had slept for three days. Harnessing the Avatar spirit always left him exhausted. Sokka had looked after Momo and Appa for him.

He knew he was searching for something. Perhaps it was purpose. He may be one hundred seventeen years old, but he felt seventeen.

Kicking a loose rock, he walked toward Sokka and the villagers. Sokka was standing by a small group, trying his best to calm a wailing baby. As he drew nearer, Aang recognized the voice before he saw her.

“Don’t hold her like that,” Meng, Aunt Wu’s assistant instructed sternly. “Hold her like this.”

Aang smiled, genuine relief flooding through him. Her robe was tattered and smudged with soot. Her pigtails were gone. In their place was a wild nest of black hair. When her eyes met his, she smiled, revealing the wide gap between her two front teeth.

“Aang!” she cried, shoving the baby into Sokka’s arms and running toward him. Instinctively, he braced himself as she flung herself into his arms. There was no decorum, no attempt at maintaining a “proper” distance. The hug was an affirmation – an affirmation of life.

Wrapping his arms around Meng, Aang held her. Her hair tickled his nose. He couldn’t understand anything she was saying because she was mumbling against his chest.

A discreet clearing of Aunt Wu’s throat finally broke the two apart. “I told you he would come back,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Sokka rolled his eyes and handed the baby to its mother.

“I see you are still in anguish.” The old fortuneteller sniffed with indifference, remembering the Water Tribe warrior’s skepticism over her powers.

“And just what am I supposed to be in anguish over?” snapped Sokka defensively.

Aang rolled his eyes.

“Just wait,” Aunt Wu answered.

Meng stepped away hastily. “Aunt Wu said you would come back.”

“I’m sorry about your village.” Aang glanced at the people around him, seeing their hopeful expressions.

Meng giggled nervously. “It will be okay. Aunt Wu predicted –”

“Oh really?” Sokka questioned.

“Sokka…” Aang said in warning. Now was not the time to argue about fortune telling.

“It was the oddest thing, Avatar Aang,” Aunt Wu stated, staring at the dormant volcano. “They came in the night, dressed in Fire Nation uniforms, but they weren’t Fire Nation soldiers.”

“What do you mean?” The strange feeling in Aang’s stomach grew.

The old fortuneteller’s eyes were sorrowful. “Look around. The earth has changed.”

Unnatural rivulets of cooled magma covered older patches of soil. “That’s because they weren’t Firebenders! They were Earthbenders!” he exclaimed, answering his earlier question.

Aunt Wu nodded in agreement. “That is the same conclusion I came to, young Avatar. Firebenders create and use fire. They would not need to harness the heat of the volcano.”

Looking around worriedly, Aang bowed his head and tried to make sense of the information.

He had isolated himself from the rest of the world for a reason. He had been so tired. He had needed to attend to the burial of his friends and loved ones. He had withdrawn from the world and all its problems – just as he had so long ago. The balance was tipping. He could feel the elements struggling for dominance. He needed to do something to steady the balance soon. Of that, he was certain.

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TBC