"The eruption"

Running.

Pain.

Hitched breath.

A downpour of rain and ash and smoke.

Another boy... but who? A firebender. And a girl... Who was she?

Wolves. Bears. Ferocity cloaked in shadow. A deep blue globe, hanging in the air...

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Aang awoke with a start, sweat pouring down his face. Sabi, resting on his chest, rose up with a screech and flew away, alerting Zuko and Azula that he had awoken. Aang's breaths came out in shaking gasps as he tried to calm down.

"Another nightmare?" Azula asked. Her face was impassive, but Aang knew enough about her to know that since she wasn't mocking, she was concerned in some way.

Aang grasped his head. "I... I don't know. I've never seen any of that before." He didn't look at either of them, staring down into his hands as the memories of the dream became even more vague and blurry to him. He tried to grasp at the pictures, trying to place where he had seen them before. They all seemed familiar in a way, but something was missing... Something slipped away.

"Of course. It's just a dream," Azula said curtly. She laid back into her sleeping bag, next to his. Zuko rolled over on Aang's other side. "Now get back to sleep."

"You don't understand..." Aang started to say, but he realized that her eyes had closed and she was no longer listening to him. He felt like he had seen some of these things before... could it have just been a nightmare? All of his other dreams were visions of his previous life and the disasters that overtook him and his friends. Were those dreams finally fading away, to be replaced by new ones that he didn't know, made up purely by his subconscious? Or could they perhaps be visions?

As much as he wholly hated those nightmares, sudden sadness and longing gripped him. They were his only link to the other world, back with his family. He did not want that connection to go.

He fell slowly back into his sleeping bag, rolled over to his side, and stared at Azula's back. His sleep was not untroubled that night.

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Aang knelt on the ground in a position of respect, his face to the rocky floor of one of the inner sanctums of the temple. His face slowly turned up to look at the monks.

"How do you know it's me?"

"We have known you were the Avatar for some time. Do you remember these?" One of the monks asked. Another unveiled a package which was airbended over to the boy, where it unrolled of its own accord.

"These were some of my favorite toys when I was little!" Aang said, his voice alight with the excitement of nostalgia. He picked up a tattered air propeller.

"You chose them because they were familiar," the first monk explained. Aang looked up at all of them, sitting serenely on their stools beneath a paper parasol. With their matching robes splayed out around them, Aang had the sudden thought of Gyatso's orange fruit pies and held back a laugh. "They are four different Avatar relics, ones you picked from among thousands of other toys."

"I picked them because they were fun," the young boy tried to explain, not quite understanding the destiny being put on his shoulders.

"Normally we would tell you when you turn sixteen," Gyatso told him. "But there are troubling signs. We fear that a war is approaching, Aang."

"We need you."

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When Aang awoke the next morning, he started the day feeling bitter and broody. But something deep under those feelings rose to the surface, feelings he had long buried. Guilt and the shame of running away from his destiny, leaving Gyatso and all the others at the Southern Air Temple to their deaths. Katara had long ago helped him come to terms with that, especially since newer shames piled on top of them.

Unfortunately for him, these feelings didn't go unnoticed by Zuko and Azula. At first, Azula tried feebly to cheer him up by causing misery for Zuko, but the older boy eventually grew tired of the treatment and became angry, which set a foul tension between them. Azula was the only one who seemed unaffected and unusually cheery. Aang occasionally caught her shooting furtive glances at his back, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout, but she always looked away.

The trio flew over the open ocean looking for a spot to land and gather supplies, but no islands came into sight - at least none good for hunting or gathering food. They found sunken atolls and islets so overgrown with wild grass that Appa couldn't even land. The tropical heat and monotony started getting to Aang, who felt his eyelids drooping from lack of sleep...

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There was smoke, smoke everywhere, getting into his eyes, his lungs, constricting his breathing. But the heat was the worst, he felt his energy draining...

And then the scene was different, calmer, cleaner, and lighter. He was out in the sunlight, peering in on the council of monks in the Southern Air Temple as they decided his fate. He was able to look in through a hole in the ceiling of the temple using the crisscrossing vines and dry branches outside it as a foothold to watch them, the dappled rays casting gentle sunbeams on the council enclave. Gyatso and another monk spoke to the head abbott of the Southern Air Temple.

Gyatso spoke. "Aang needs to have freedom and fun. He needs to grow up as a normal boy," he implored.

The other monk, an old, hunched, bony man, made an angry noise. "You cannot keep protecting him from his destiny," he said with a scowl to Gyatso.

"Gyatso, I know you mean well, but you are letting your affection for the boy cloud your judgment," said the abbott.

"I want what is best for him," said Gyatso gently. Each of them were oblivious to their eavesdropper.

"But what we need is what's best for the world," said the Head Monk, bowing his head. When he looked up at Gyatso again, his face was resolute. "You and Aang must be separated. The Avatar will be sent away to the Western Air Temple to complete his training."

Aang almost stumbled and fell into the chamber from his hiding place, breathless with shock. No! They couldn't send him away!

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Aang awoke feeling alarmed and distraught, remembering every miniscule detail of his dream. That one he had seen before. He had experienced the exact same thing in his own world, long before he was awoken from his iceberg. There was only one difference which stuck out to him more than anything else-the abbott was prepared to send him to the Western Air Temple instead of the Eastern Temple which they tried to send him to, back home. Was that how he ended up in the Fire Nation, inside a volcano? Did they somehow accomplish sending him to the Western Air Temple, when they failed to send him away properly back at home?

Did he decide not to run away this time?

"Aang, are you okay?" Azula asked him quietly, leaning over the saddle. "I didn't notice that you dozed off."

A little perplexed and unused to such compassion from Azula, Aang stumbled with his response. "I-I'm fine, Azula," said Aang quickly, pushing his dark hair out of his face. The wind caused his hair to whip him ceaselessly, now that it had grown longer. Absently, he thought that he would need a headband or something similar soon to hold it up.

"Good. Don't fall asleep again out of Appa's saddle. That was stupid. You could have fallen off," she snapped at him, her voice precise again.

"Yes, ma'am," Aang said to her quickly, wishing to avoid conflict. He was too tired for a clash with Azula now.

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Sokka tossed and turned in his bed, kicking his blue satin sheets all around him so that he became hopelessly tangled. Unconsciously, his hand went up to the horrid scar running through his eye socket. As soon as his fingers made contact with the scar tissue, Sokka's one icy blue eye flicked open and he sat up with a start, but with his tangled sheets, he had been unable to stand and fell bodily to the wooden floor.

Grumbling, he pushed himself up and pulled his legs from the knot of sheets. He stood next to his bed for a moment, holding his head as the remnants of his dream faded from his mind. He had to relive a particularly terrible experience that he did not want to see again...

He washed the sweat off of his face with the water from a basin near his bed and crept out his door. He looked all around him for potential traps and tricks before walking down the hall. It was not the first time. During the course of his voyage, one of the crew members had been playing tricks on him and the other soldiers, and while Sokka had suspicions, he had no proof. He didn't worry too much about them, though. They were always harmless and done just for good humor. One time, he had been sipping his drink during mealtime and someone froze the water just as it made its way into his mouth, freezing the cup to his lips and stirring up a careful laugh from the other crew members. However, they only played these jokes on him when he was in a good mood. Nobody dared to do anything to him when he acted broody. He had suspicions that it could be Kinto, his lieutenant, and that his grandmother sometimes aided him. Again, he didn't mind some of the time. When he was younger, he and Kinto used to be fairly good friends-at least, as good of a friend that a prince would be with a clan chief's son. When they'd been younger they sometimes worked together to play pranks on others.

The very same person that was on his mind nearly bumped into him in the woody hallway minutes later, clumsily saluting to his superior.

"Lady Kanna ordered me to report to you and see how you were feeling... sir," Kinto said, fumbling near the end. The waterbender was nearly the same age as Sokka, but the prince towered over him. Sokka grit his teeth when he noticed the young man staring openly at his scar again, which he did often. As such, his response was a little more aggressive than it should have been.

"I'm fine," he said gruffly, shoving the other waterbender to the side, into the wall. Really, did his stupid grandmother have to send someone to ask how he was feeling? Did she know how embarrassing she was? Did she know how much she made him look like a weakling in front of other people?

But, he reasoned, he did get quite drunk the day before, during music night.

As Sokka stomped down the hallway, Kinto silently fumed behind his back.

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Aang blew air into the mess of stakes, cloth, and wood, inflating the tent to completion.

The three set up camp on a rocky outcropping that was more mountain than island, with three peaks creating a little valley that spilled out onto a black sand beach. The ground was weedy and had very few trees-it was fertile with new life, but still seemed empty of any significant overgrowth and barely any trees. Not a good place to gather supplies, but it was the only island they could find big enough land on, since Appa and his passengers were getting tired of flying. Aang himself felt ready to pass out from lack of sleep. This would have been a great place to practice firebending with Azula but he just didn't have it in him.

As Aang plopped down on a rock, he noticed Zuko stare up at one of the mountains and then kneel down to feel the ground.

"What are you doing?" Aang asked him. The raven-haired boy inclined his head.

"These aren't just regular mountains," said Zuko. "They're volcanoes."

"How can you tell?" Azula asked, putting a hand on her hip.

"How can you not tell?" Zuko said to her, standing up to look at his sister. "You live right by a volcano." Azula made an annoyed noise and rolled her eyes. "Well, the ground is black. Didn't you notice? This volcano erupted recently, maybe a year ago. New life is starting to sprout right now."

"I'm surprised things are growing," Aang said, kicking lightly at the ground.

"Volcanic rock is fertile," Zuko said. "Things grow in it easily. Not a lot of people know that. My uncle told me."

"Hmph. Well, since you know so much, why don't you go look for wood for a fire?" Azula said to him, sliding her pinched fingers down one of her bangs.

"Wait, aren't you guys worried that it might erupt again? I don't know if it's dormant," said Zuko, ignoring his sister and looking up at the mountain again.

"We'll be fine," said Aang. "What are the chances of it erupting while we're here? We're only staying for a night."

Zuko shrugged uneasily. "I guess so."

"Okay, go do your work now," Azula said to him, waving her hands to usher him off.

"Well, I'm climbing to check if the volcano's dormant or not," Zuko said to her, his voice gruff as he wandered off.

"Whatever," Azula mumbled behind his back.

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There was soot all over, stinging his eyes, choking him, shrouding him in unbearable heat... Something snapped inside of him. A moment later, all he saw was searing white...

And his vision was replaced by a girl. It was someone he had never seen before, with black hair that reached the base of her neck, wide, kind grey eyes, her hand reaching out to him. But she was unreachable, distant. He tried to grasp her hand, but he fell into a burning lake of magma... He tried to shield himself feebly with his arms, but it did nothing as he shouted out and fell to his doom...

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Aang shot forward again with a gasp and a moment later he heard a sound of alarm. He quickly regained his bearings, only to see that he shot out a burst of fire before awakening and he had nearly burned Azula, who jumped back just in time. Apparently, he fell asleep sitting in a slumped position.

"What was that for?" she bit at him.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I had another nightmare." He said the last part to her quietly. Azula relaxed her tensed muscles slightly. The sky blazed orange with the setting sun.

"Another one? What is going on? What are they about?" she asked him, her voice coming out slow as if she had practiced this. "I don't think they'll stop until you talk about them..." To Aang, her voice sounded unsure. He knew from experience that she wasn't used to this sort of thing.

Aang grasped his head. "I don't know! I keep seeing this girl. I've seen her before, but I don't know where."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know, but she seems really familiar, like I know her somehow." Aang stared down at his open palms, remembering reaching out to the girl, and falling. "The only dreams that I know are from when I found out I was the Avatar."

"Well, that's a good thing, right?" she asked him, unsure. He looked into her face once-open, understanding, unusually kind, sort of like that girl, he thought. He looked into his hands again.

"No. Everything changed after that. The monks wanted to send me to a different Air Temple, the Western Temple, to complete my training. They separated me from everyone I loved..." he said, feeling the pain of losing his people once again, as if it was still a fresh loss. Why were the spirits making him relive one of his worst moments in his dreams?

"What did you do?" Azula asked him. Her voice was low, quiet, beckoning him to go on.

Aang thrust out his fist in anger, unleashing a blast of flames. "I ran away."

🌊 🌳 🔥 🌪

"Hey, have any of you guys ever wondered how Prince Sokka got that ugly scar?" Kinto asked the rest of the men, sitting forward eagerly in his seat as they all sat around their lunch table. There was only one mess hall in the ship with one tiny table that barely any members of the crew could fit on.

The cafeteria door opened with a creak. "You really want to know?" the Moonlit Mother asked them, striding into the small room. Each of the soldiers froze in their seats.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean no disrespect!" Kinto hurriedly apologized.

"It is okay," Kanna said gently, her aged face showing them a kind smile. "You all deserve to know. I will tell you."

"No," said another voice from the doorway. "It is my burden to share. I will tell them."

Each of the warriors' heads, plus Kanna's, shot to the doorway to see Sokka walking into the room, where he leaned against the wall.

"Prince Sokka, I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, Gran," Sokka said, silencing her. He didn't look at any of his soldiers as he spoke.

🌊 🌳 🔥 🌪

Sokka, young and unscarred and happy, walked along the docks of a port city in the Southern Water Tribe nestled in the northwestern mountains. He grinned with excitement as he prepared for his first test of manhood-the ice dodging ritual. He looked up at the sky which blew favorable winds. The waters weren't too rough, either. He looked at all of the people around him and suddenly grew nervous. They were watching him and waiting for him to become a man. He was the absolute center of attention. Somewhere, his father was watching. Sokka hugged his fur coat closer as he boarded the wooden sailboat which was only large enough to be manned by one person.

He gripped the rope tying his boat to the rickety dock and tried not to glance back at the crowd watching him from the salt cliffs that dripped with the melt of summer. Instead, he focused on the rope with his fumbling hands, slick and cold and covered in barnacles. The tides brushed up against the dock and the boat bobbed up and down, reminding Sokka to stay in tune with the push and pull. At least he didn't have to worry about the smell of low tide.

Since he was a prince, more was expected of him. He would be doing this alone, without the help of his father, like all other boys his age. His father was far too important for something like this. Unsurprisingly, Sokka found himself not caring. He and Hakoda were never particularly close.

Sokka unfurled the sails and gripped the rudder tightly. The strong winds pushed right up against his blue sails, complete with the Water Tribe insignia. It propelled him forward without the aid of waterbending, sailing towards the ice fields which were a short distance away. Large, sharp icebergs jutted out of the water, created by a team of waterbenders. His own grandmother was among them solely so she could support him. She waited on top of one, smiling encouragingly at him. She was his only family that was happy for him.

The Water Prince pushed against the wooden rudder of the ship, turning the ship to the left to steer toward the icebergs that would soon become obstacles he would need to overcome. He held the rudder steady with one hand once the skiff was on course and used his other hand to waterbend the ship forward. In a short amount of time, he reached the ice field. Scores of other waterbenders stood at the tips of their own creations watching every detail of his trial. Sokka turned the rudder once, steering the ship to the right to avoid the first ice block. A quick turn to the left overcame the second.

As he progressed further in,