Chapter Text
“Before I ask anything of you, there's a story you should hear” Pathik opened his front door and gestured Aang inside as he continued. “Make some tea for us while I find...well, you will see.”
Puzzled but happy to perform a service for this man who had been his companion and his support for weeks, Aang retrieved the kettle from its high shelf in the kitchen area. His mind drifted to Zuko and Katara while his hands performed the rote tasks of lighting the stove and pumping water.
Had any other attacks occurred? Were his friends still alive and safe? No. He couldn't think like that. He had to trust that they could take care of themselves and of each other. But he was unable to completely dismiss the image of Katara hurt, looking at him with accusation in her eyes.
Finding the tea box nearly empty, he wondered for the first time how Pathik restocked the foods that didn't grow in these mountains. Quickly he surveyed the rest of the guru's supplies. Only a half bag of rice remained, and they'd used the last of the barley in yesterday's morning tea. There were plenty of onions and Aang spared a moment to lament the return of banana-onion juice to his diet.
When he brought the cups to Pathik's table he saw the man clasping a small book, cradling it to his narrow chest. His eyes were so distant Aang was surprised when they refocused on him and Pathik smiled softly.
“You remind me of him so much” Pathik began with no preamble. “The way you walk, how you pour tea.”
Aang paused in that undertaking, wondering how anything as rote as walking or the tipping of a teapot could be distinctive enough to say it was reminiscent of another person. And also, who did he purportedly walk and pour tea like? Abruptly he felt stupid for wondering. Gyatso. Of course he would do many things like his mentor had. His more-than-mentor. Aang had seen Sokka and Hakoda together and recognized so much of his relationship with Gyatso in the way those two interacted. Very well, Gyatso was his father, or the closest thing to a father he had ever had.
Lost in thought, he missed the next thing Pathik said. “I was woolgathering, Pathik. I'm sorry.”
“Even that phrase is Gyatso through and through. I asked if you knew how I met your Gyatso.”
Forehead crinkling, Aang tried to recall if Gyatso had ever mentioned Pathik. He shook his head slightly, “no, I don't think so.”
Pathik briefly closed his eyes and when they reopened there was visible pain in them. “Very well. It was a long time ago. Before you were born, some of it. You see, my sister and I lost our parents in a mining accident when we were very small. Our village was in the foothills of the Patola Mountains. We had no other family, or none that were wealthy enough to take in two more mouths to feed, so we were sent to the Patola Orphans' Home, which I think you may be familiar with?”
Aang nodded, eyes wide. The monks of the Southern Air Temple and their acolytes alike all helped provide for the children who lived in the orphanage. Some of the monks even lived in the orphanage full-time, educating and caring for the children.
Pathik stared at the wall behind Aang without speaking for so long Aang started to turn his teacup in his hands, wondering if he was supposed to ask questions. The rattle of cup against saucer was the only sound in the room as Pathik took his turn wool-gathering. Finally, Pathik sighed and focused on Aang again.
“Monk Gyatso was in charge of the Home when we arrived. He-” Pathik cleared his throat and closed his eyes deliberately, continuing to speak with his lids lowered. “I was so angry back then. Angry at my parents for dying. Angry at my grandmother for not taking us in. Angry at my uncle for having so many children that he couldn't afford to care for us, too. Gyatso taught me to meditate. Taught me to let go of my grief and anger, to find stillness inside.”
Finally, Pathik turned the book over in his hand, lightly caressing the battered cover. He carefully opened it to a page marked by a silk ribbon the color of spring dandelions. A detailed portrait covered both pages, depicting two children sitting with a man in Air Nomad attire. The man smiled and had an arm around each child. Gyatso. The impish smile framed by a long bushy mustache was unmistakeable.
And then Aang had to blink rapidly to keep his eyes from welling over. Taking a scared and angry child under his wing was exactly what Gyatso would have done. And it was clear Pathik loved him still.
The edge in Pathik's voice when he spoke next took Aang aback. “Then he left. When I was 13. He said there was a very special child coming to live at the Southern Temple and he would be caring for that child.”
Aang shifted in his seat and stared into the depths of his tea. He supposed he was the special child. Did Pathik harbor resentment toward him? If he did, especially after so many years, perhaps Gyatso's lessons hadn't really reached him.
Heaving a sigh, Pathik placed a hand over Aang's, stilling his nervous cup twirling.
“He was right to go and I bear no ill will over his leaving. Toward him or you. Please forgive an old man his old selfishness.”
Aang kept his eyes on Pathik's hand, which now patted his gently. Stealing a quick glance upward, he nodded. “You don't need forgiveness. All these years, you waited for me, to help me. And you did. You helped me when I needed it.” Aang smiled gently, “I think the only forgiveness you need is your own.”
The gnarled hand covering his shook with a tremor that traveled up Pathik's arm. A chuckle escaped the older man and surprised an answering laugh from Aang.
“You sound so much like him, Aang. His influence is clear.” Pathik's laugh faded, leaving only a small smile as remembrance of it. “But you must be wondering why I'm digging up all this ancient history, so I should finish my story. After Gyatso left, I lost my way. I ran away from the Home, tried to go back to my family. I worked in the mines alongside my cousins. But my sister stayed behind. She had learned Monk Gyatso's lessons better than I had. She dreamed of going to the Eastern Air Temple and joining the community there.”
Shock absolute, Aang felt his jaw drop open. He didn't know much about life in the Eastern and Western Air Temples, but he had assumed only airbenders lived there, as had been the case in the Northern and Southern Temples.
Shaking his head wonderingly, he asked “Did she?”
“No, she met a boy and fell in love instead. He was another orphan, an earthbender like her. They were good together, but something in Kavita longed for the life of contemplation she'd given up. She was devastated at what happened to the Air Nomads and has mourned their way of life every day since the massacres. When her husband died 20 years ago, she retreated to a tiny house on the side of a mountain. She grows tea and teaches meditation and yoga to the people who seek her out. She has a bit of a reputation in the Earth Kingdom. But I guess you wouldn't have heard of Mataji Kavita, being from another time. I bet your friend Toph has. The Mountainside is somewhat famous as a place to seek enlightenment and inner peace.”
Here Pathik paused, a sad smile playing lightly across his lips. He seemed to notice his cup of tea for the first time and raised it to his mouth, drinking deep. His smile widened. “And we can get some more tea when we visit her!” he announced happily.
Aang struggled to follow the conversational thread. “Visit? Who? Where? Oh. Is that the favor you wanted? For me to take you to your sister?” he asked, grasping at last the point to Pathik's narrative.
“Haven't you been listening, Aang?” Pathik admonished. “I've told you Kavita is an earthbender and loves Air Nomad culture and sharing it with others. Don't you think she would be happy to continue repairing the temples? You can go save your friend, be the Avatar, and my sister and I will work on returning the temple to its former beauty. You mentioned finding other people who want to follow Air Nomad traditions. You have that in Kavita and me, and perhaps in Kavita's students. Maybe we could locate more people who could fill the temples with life again. If there are enough people, and we follow Air Nomad ways, perhaps airbending will come back through us.”
With a skeptical lift of his brow, Aang responded “You think you and your sister will learn to airbend if you restore and move into the temples?” Was the man addled? Aang was sure nonbenders could not suddenly become benders, nor could benders change elements.
Pathik laughed aloud. “No, Aang. Not us. But I told you once that all the elements are four parts of the same whole. Maybe some day children will be born who can bend air and we will do whatever we can to help them learn about the Air Nomads. Maybe they will be your children!”
Aang felt a flush steal across his face as he pictured children with warm brown skin and grey eyes. He pushed the image away and refocused on Pathik, who continued speaking.
“But balance will reassert itself somehow, and I think Kavita and I have a part to play in its restoration.”
Aang lifted his teacup to his mouth absently as he considered Pathik's words. Pathik had a point. The Avatar, after such a long absence, couldn't afford to isolate himself in a remote aerie, grieving and attempting to atone for running away when the world, when his people, needed him most. His duty was heavier than a mountain, but he was done with trying to escape it. If he could not continue his work rebuilding the temples, wasn't it a gift that someone else wanted to? And who was to say Pathik did not have the right of it? Perhaps all that was needed for balance to be restored was for others to embrace Air Nomad philosophy, to live as the Air Nomads did.
After this pause for thought, Aang responded formally “Thank you for continuing my work here. I will bring you to Kavita before I go to Zuko.”
Pathik grinned broadly as he stood.
“Good news, Aang, The Mountainside lies just across The Eastern Sea from here. It is on your way.” He motioned Aang toward the kitchen, “Come, let's pack for the trip.”
In the flurry of stuffing belongings into his bags and readying Appa for the long journey back to the Fire Nation, Aang completely forgot about posting his letter to Katara. He was packing the last of the books he wanted to finish reading into his satchel, his thoughts a whirlwind of Zuko, Katara, air bison, Pathik and Kavita, when Pathik's voice broke in and scattered his thoughts even further.
“Aang, you should send your letter with the Fire Lord's message bird and keep Jinsoku with you in case anyone needs to reach you.”
Sabi had flown away carrying a package for Katara a few days before. Aang had thought he'd need to send Jinsoku out with his response to Katara's letter, but now Zuko's messenger bird could bring the letter back to Caldera City, leaving Jinsoku to travel with Aang on a slower route.
~*~*~
Frigid winds buffeted Appa's passengers as they skimmed above the waves. Momo squeaked sadly as he burrowed under Aang's arm and tried to climb inside his clothing. Aang giggled at the antics, then twisted around and found a blanket to drape over his pet. Momo burbled happily for a few moments, then closed his large eyes and fell silent. Soon he was slumbering deeply, releasing occasional soft snores.
Aang had attempted to chat with Pathik at the beginning of the journey. But the man's abstracted stare and terse replies stifled all efforts at conversation. This was the first time Pathik had flown over the ocean and the man seemed a bit unnerved by the experience, casting frequent worried looks toward the rolling sea just below Appa's feet. So Aang watched the shoreline of the Zeizhou Province come into focus as they reached the edge of the Eastern Sea.
Stony gray cliffs plunged straight down into the ocean. Water crashed and foamed against the rocks, sending up sprays of water that drenched Appa's legs. Aang's struggle with the storm the night he'd run away came abruptly to mind and a shudder traced down his spine. He forced his eyes up above the cliffs to verdant forests cloaking mountains so old they'd been worn down to rounded shadows of the jagged peaks that cradled the eastern Air Temple in their teeth. Aang marveled as they neared the shore and the temperature immediately rose, becoming almost balmy.
Pathik tapped his shoulder and pointed. Aang spotted the curving lines of tea bushes hugging the contours of a small valley just visible between two misty peaks. At the edge of the tea plants sat a small low structure, which he assumed was Kavita's home. He steered Appa toward the gap between the mountains, scanning for an open space to land.
As they cleared the peaks Aang saw that the rows of tea plants did not fill the entire valley. A large clearing with formal gardens and lawns framed the house. He directed Appa toward it. Only as they drew closer did he make out the forms of people in meditative poses in the garden. Appa mumbled and one by one the people stood, gaping upward. They pointed and nudged each other until a small crowd gathered, speaking excitedly while stealing awed glances at the travelers.
Appa touched down with a loud grumble and a tired thump of his tail. A very old woman wrapped in a brilliant saffron sari ran toward them, moving with a quickness that belied her white hair and deeply lined face. She stopped a hairsbreadth from Appa and gazed up in wonder. Aang noticed the slight tremble in her entire body as she raised a hand to rest gently on Appa's muzzle. Her eyes were so dark a brown the pupil almost disappeared into the rich shade of her irises. Those remarkable eyes closed for a long moment. When she opened her eyes again, tears fell from them and streamed down the woman's face.
“Hello, great one,” she said in a voice as strong as the mountains behind her.
For a moment Aang thought she addressed him and he felt a stirring of discomfort along with a rising flush. He chuckled when she stroked Appa's face and murmured, at last recognizing that the honorifics were aimed at his bison, not at him.
Appa leaned into the woman's touch and groaned encouragingly. She rested her forehead against his side, embracing the giant animal as best she could. While the two were thus occupied, Aang slid down to the ground, then helped Pathik dismount with a gentle burst of air to ease his descent.
The woman straightened and used the edge of her wrap to dry her eyes. She smiled at Pathik and drew him into her arms when he came near.
“Hello, Pathik. I've missed you.”
She pulled back and looked him over, then tsked loudly.
“You smell like onions and bananas! Why do you insist on drinking that dreadful concoction? Please tell me you haven't been giving that swill to the Avatar!”
At this she released Pathik and turned to Aang. She hesitated briefly, then shrugged and pulled him into a hug. Her arms were wiry and her hands gentle when they patted his shoulder and the top of his head. She smelled like fresh air and tea leaves, and her embrace was so comforting Aang thought he could remain in it for weeks.
Mimicking her actions with her brother, she pushed Aang back a bit and looked him over. A wide smile split her seamed face and she shook her head wonderingly.
“Avatar Aang. Thank you. Thank you for ending the war.” She sniffled a bit, then continued “It's so good to see an airbender again. And a sky bison, too! I never thought-” Here she broke off, tears spilling over again.
She cleared her throat and once again dabbed at her eyes before pulling Aang into another hug. He didn't mind a bit and rested his head briefly against her bony shoulder, gratefully accepting the comfort.
When Aang looked up again the people who'd gawked up at them had moved closer, though they still maintained a careful distance from Appa. They looked in awe from Aang to the bison and back again. There were about a score of people, wearing loose garments in shades of gold and orange. Most of them had the look of people from the Earth Kingdom, but every nation except his seemed to be represented. He sighed. Some irrepressible part of him continued to hope that he would meet another pair of gray eyes in a crowd, see another shaved head, and his inexpressible alienation would ease.
“Oh, I've been rude!” the woman gasped. She released Aang and stepped back, pressing her fists together above her chest. “Greetings, Avatar Aang, and welcome to The Mountainside. I am Kavita and you and your sky bison are welcome here. Please come into the house and refresh yourself from your journey. I'll make tea!”
Aang smiled and returned her bow. “Thank you.” He dredged his memory for the title Pathik had used, then continued “Mataji Kavita. This is Appa and I think he likes you, too!”
Appa bellowed his agreement and the entire crowd laughed, visibly relaxing. Thus reassured about the relative danger of sky bison and airbenders, they moved forward to greet the newcomers.
Aang felt a bit overwhelmed as they pressed in, introducing themselves and talking over each other so much that he couldn't make out any of their names. He backed up and cast a pleading look to Kavita. She whistled loudly and the crowd fell instantly silent.
“Give him space. You can all meet him later.” She aimed a glare at a few of them who had crowded particularly close to Aang, “One at a time! Go back to your meditations for now.”
At her stern tone, they hastened back to the cushions arrayed in the garden and appeared to return to their previous activity. But Aang felt their eyes on him as he followed Kavita toward the house, Pathik trailing behind.
Appa interrupted their progress by releasing a sudden trumpeting roar and rising into the air with a loud slap of his tail. He arrowed toward the house, barely clearing its low roof. Still bellowing, he disappeared over the next mountain. Worried, Aang deployed the sails on his glider and made to follow the bison.
Kavita's hand on his shoulder stilled him.
“Stay.” she cautioned. Then she sighed, “I guess you will have to wait a bit longer to have that tea. Come with me; there's something you should see.”
As she spoke, she began walking a narrow path leading around the house. Aang looked toward Pathik, who shrugged, wordlessly communicating his ignorance about whatever Kavita thought they needed to see.
She refused to give any hint about their destination or what they might find there, no matter how much Pathik cajoled her. Eventually she lost patience and ceased responding to his entreaties at all. In steadfast silence she led them down the path to the edge of the forest beyond her house. Ancient trees towered over the trail. It threaded through the trunks, meandering toward another mountain pass beyond Kavita's valley. The depth of the woods disguised the length of the trail, and they arrived at another clearing sooner than Aang had expected to find their destination.
A sea of dry grass rustled ahead of them, high as Aang's thighs. The wind here was cooler than at The Mountainside. It rattled through the dry seed pods topping the grass stalks. As they left the path, the bright light of the cloudless day momentarily blinded the trio. When his vision cleared Aang saw Appa. His bison was behaving oddly, bounding through the meadow, occasionally leaping into the air. Appa came to a stop when he saw Aang. He lifted his great shaggy head and bellowed in full voice. The world seemed to shiver to a stop, poised on the brink of something momentous.
Aang's mind couldn't quite make sense of what he saw next. Three tumbling brown and cream shapes fanned out from behind Appa. Aang's knees collapsed under him, sending him to an undignified sprawl on the ground as he recognized three young air bison in the gamboling figures.