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The fox led Kyoshi through the forest. It moved purposefully, and yet somehow with an air of nonchalance, nimbly avoiding the roots and low-hanging branches. As they neared the treeline, Kyoshi started to recognize where she was again, and she started toward the house.

The fox barked.

Startled, Kyoshi stopped. It gave her a stern look, and headed off at an angle, closer to the wheat fields. When Kyoshi rounded a bend and caught sight of a small figure propped against the well, she understood, and practically flew across the remaining distance to kneel beside Rangi.

Rangi’s face was pale, her forehead clammy with sweat. Kyoshi’s hands fluttered over her, unsure where her attention was needed. Rangi managed a strained smile.

“I’m fine, Kyoshi, stop worrying so much,” she muttered. “I’m just resting. I overdid it a little.”

“A little?” Kyoshi scooped the woman she loved off the ground. As an afterthought, she stamped on the ground to earthbend Rangi’s crutch into the air and catch it with three fingers. She walked back to the house as quickly as she could without jostling Rangi, kicking open the door to the infirmary and settling Rangi on the nearest bed. “Where’s Atuat?” she snapped at the nearest servant.

“I’m right here, stop harassing my help,” said the healer, bustling over to look and tsking at Rangi. “You’re as bad as your mother. At least take someone with you if you’re going to push your limits. Your fever’s back.” She summoned water from a nearby pitcher and wrapped both hands in it, resting one on Rangi’s forehead and the other on her chest. The water began to glow, and Rangi sighed in relief, closing her eyes against the cooling touch. Kyoshi sat down carefully next to her on the bed, trying not to get in the way.

“Worse, I think,” said Hei-Ran from behind Kyoshi. “I never disrespected my healer so much.”

“Humph,” said Atuat, who clearly had higher standards than either Fire National.

“I just wanted a moment to myself,” muttered Rangi, turning her face away as far as she could without dislodging the water. “It isn’t even that far.”

Atuat said nothing, but her expression made clear what she thought of that statement.

Eventually, Atuat finished her healing and Hei-Ran her chiding, and they left the two of them alone. Only then did Rangi add, in a quiet, shamed voice, not looking at Kyoshi, “I want to go home.”

“Home?” said Kyoshi, confused. This was home, at least as far as she had one. But, she remembered, Rangi had had a home before Yokoya. The Royal Fire Academy, and before that, her island. “How long has it been?” she asked quietly, smoothing back Rangi’s hair.

“Years,” said Rangi, shutting her eyes. “There were always breaks at school, but I’ve only been back once or twice since we moved here for Yun.”

“Well, maybe you should. We could take a vacation.”

Rangi smiled sleepily. “That would be nice.”

It was clearly costing her effort to talk, so Kyoshi let the conversation trail off, and sat there in silent comfort until Rangi began to snore. Gingerly, Kyoshi stood up, trying not to jostle Rangi awake again, and almost tripped over the fox, which had curled up by the bed.

“What are you still doing here?” she hissed. “Aren’t you a spirit?” She went around it and headed off to find Hei-Ran and Atuat and see if she could make an argument to visit the island of the Sei’naka. The fox could leave on its own.

The fox did not leave.

“Where did that come from?” Rangi asked curiously when it was still there the next morning, peering over the edge of her bed at the pile of orange fur apparently content just to sit there. Kyoshi explained it to her, feeling oddly as though she ought to apologize for the creature. Rangi only raised an eyebrow. Kyoshi almost expected the fox to raise one back. She had to acknowledge that it wasn’t a spirit after watching it devour a rabbit-mouse, but what on earth was it then? This was not normal fox behavior!

It followed her around, and every morning she woke up to find it curled up beside her bed. Now it stood by her side, tail wagging expectantly, as they loaded up Yingyong.

“Do you honestly think you’re coming with me?” asked Kyoshi in exasperation. She wasn’t sure whether it could understand her or not, but it certainly seemed intelligent enough. Still, she looked around to see if Hei-Ran or Atuat were judging her for talking to animals.

“The fox isn’t gone yet?” said Rangi from the saddle.

“Fox?” said Hei-Ran, turning away from adjusting the reins to look.

“This fox found Kyoshi in the woods and it’s been following her around ever since!” said Rangi. Hei-Ran’s face cleared.

“Well, bring it along, then!” She walked back to the house for the last bundle of supplies.

Kyoshi and Rangi stared after her.

Wong and Kirima had taken their leave after Atuat had healed their legs. The breaks had been clean, no infection to battle. Bones were too difficult for Kyoshi, but Atuat had no such limitation. Even so, it was a tight squeeze fitting Kyoshi, Rangi, Hei-Ran, Atuat, and their supplies into Yingyong’s saddle, even with Jinpa in the driver’s seat.

And now they had a fox. Currently tucked in a corner of the basket, politely behaving itself.

“Why did you say I should bring it?” asked Kyoshi once they were settled, gesturing at it. Hei-Ran’s face did something complicated.

“Of course, you wouldn’t know. Why would you?” she said quietly. “All the Avatars have animal companions. Air Nomads usually have sky bison, but the other Avatars vary quite a bit. Kuruk had a wolf named Attituq. Usually the Avatar and their animal companion find each other quite young, but…”

“Nothing about your Era has exactly gone as usual,” finished Rangi. Hei-Ran nodded pensively.

“If only we’d been able to find you as a baby, the way we were supposed to.”

“What usually happens?” asked Kyoshi curiously. She knew the four nations had different ways of identifying the Avatar, and that the Earth method had been tried repeatedly without success, but she didn’t know or at any rate remember what it was.

“Geomancy. Bone trigrams are cast to rule out half of the Earth Kingdom, and then half of what’s remaining, and so on, until you reach a small enough area to determine the Avatar. Jianzhu and the other earthbending masters went on a number of wild rabbit-goose hunts. They ended up in all sorts of odd locations—in the middle of the Si Wong Desert, once, and another time on an iceberg. Twice, the middle of Chameleon Bay. Usually not terribly far from Yokoya, almost always within roughly this quarter of the Earth Kingdom, but that’s still a lot of space. I think that’s why Jianzhu settled there.”

Rangi sat up straight, eyes wide. “Chameleon Bay,” she said with emphasis, grabbing Kyoshi’s wrist. “Kyoshi. They never found you because you were always on a sky bison.”

Kyoshi’s mouth dropped open. Hei-Ran stared at her.

“What do you mean?”

“My mother was an Air Nomad,” said Kyoshi numbly. “She and my father traveled constantly.” On daofei business, she didn’t say. It might not even have been true. She knew her parents hadn’t been with the Flying Opera Company for the first years of her life, otherwise her existence wouldn’t have come as a surprise to the others. But…it fit. Scrying for her location could easily have given them the correct one every time, but she and her parents would be long gone by the time anyone got there. And the improbable locations—much less odd if you considered Longyan flying over them.

“They tried the Air Nomad method eventually,” said Hei-Ran, still staring. “They put out rows of toys, and whoever picks up all four of the toys that belonged to previous Avatars is the one. They gave up that method when a child ran off with one of the toys. A clay turtle. Kelsang got in so much trouble for losing it.”

A clay turtle. Suddenly, something Yangchen had said made so much more sense.

“It was me, wasn’t it,” whispered Kyoshi. “He knew where it was the whole time. But he let me keep it. It broke when we were fleeing the house after—everything happened.”

Hei-Ran’s eyes bugged out.

“You were the child who took it?” She leaned back against the saddle wall and stared up into the sky. Kyoshi bit down on the urge to apologize. She was the Avatar, even if Hei-Ran did still make her feel like a child sometimes. And it wasn’t as though she knew what she had. Rangi squeezed her hand, and Kyoshi shot her a small smile.

“Why wouldn’t you have picked up all four toys?” asked Hei-Ran, fixing her with a gaze so suddenly that her eyes bored into the side of Kyoshi’s head. Kyoshi couldn’t look at her, but the question made a wet, jagged laugh burst out of her.

“A street child, be greedy enough to pick up four entire toys?” she said. “One would have seemed like a miracle. Taking more than that would just have been asking to lose it all.” Which, naturally, would be why kind-hearted Kelsang had let her hold onto the toy which had never been hers to keep—except, of course, for how it had been hers since before she was born.

“Is there a potter nearby?” she asked. “On the island, I mean?”

“Yes,” said Hei-Ran. “Why?”

“I owe Yangchen a favor.”

‘Nearby,’ it turned out, was an understatement—the building Hei-Ran directed her to the next morning was practically next door.

The pottery was a surprisingly clean space, a large open-air building with ample table and shelf space and several horizontal wheels across from a row of stools.

“Avatar!” squeaked the head potter, a short woman with a wrinkly face. “What brings you to our humble island?” She gave the fox a suspicious look.

“My firebending teacher and best friend is from here,” said Kyoshi, looking around the shelves and electing not to open the can of centiworms that announcing Rangi was her lover would be.

There was more variety than she expected. One wall was full of finished pottery, cups and bowls and the occasional teapot in mostly greens and neutrals. Another shelf was full of light brown bare clay, and another held pieces that appeared to have been coated in a fine layer of powder. Where clay peeked out from around the powder, it was a pinkish color.

“Mind the greenware, Avatar,” said the head potter. Kyoshi folded her large hands behind her back. The fox stepped politely away from the shelf it was sniffing.

“This is greenware?” she asked, nodding at the bare clay.

“Indeed it is! Once it’s been fired once, it’ll be bisqueware.” She indicated the powder-covered clay. “This here is bisqueware waiting to be glaze fired.”

“So the powder is glaze?”

The woman confirmed, and Kyoshi stared at them with renewed interest.

“Can you teach me to make a turtle?”

The woman bowed deeply.

“It would be an honor!”

Almost half a day later, Kyoshi thought the potter was probably eating her words. Kyoshi had much better fine control over her earthbending than she used to, but this was on an entirely different scale. The potter clearly had no idea how to work around the fans, and there was no way Kyoshi was going to manage without them.

“You must make sure there are no air pockets,” the potter, whose name was Liu Qianqiao, explained for the eighth time. “Feel the earth through the body.”

Kyoshi suppressed a sigh and the urge to tell Madame Liu that she understood, she just couldn’t do it. She had a well-enough developed seismic sense to feel the air pockets and the weak walls, but trying to push clay where it needed to go inevitably ended in either deforming the thing beyond recognition or having no effect at all.

“Let’s take a break,” Madame Liu suggested. “Stretch your legs, get some water and something to eat.”

Kyoshi didn’t hold back the sigh this time, but did as she was bid. She plodded back to the house, kicked off her boots in favor of a pair of slippers, left her gloves by the door, and made herself a bowl of rice in the kitchen. She found Rangi resting on some cushions back in her room.

“Making clay things is hard,” Kyoshi complained, plopping down beside Rangi and sprawling out.

“If it weren’t, it wouldn’t be an entire profession,” pointed out Rangi, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Kyoshi’s ear. “Maybe you’re going about it the wrong way.”

Kyoshi took a bite of her rice.

“How many ways are there to go about it?”

Rangi shrugged. “You’re the one doing it, how would I know?”

Too soon, Kyoshi felt the pressure to return. She put her boots back on, though she abandoned her gloves, and dragged herself back to the pottery shop.

Despite everything, she was still there before Madame Liu. Absent instruction, she sat back down on her stool, picked up the stubborn ball of clay, and squished it in her hands, forming a ball. The clay was cold and slightly sticky on her bare hands. She let her seismic sense flow through it. There was still an air pocket in the middle.

She flung it down on the table for the sheer satisfaction of it.

The air pocket shrank in half.

Curious, Kyoshi picked up the ball of clay and slapped it down on the table a few more times at different angles.

The air pocket was gone.

“Well, that’s certainly also a way to do it,” said Madame Liu from behind her. “It hadn’t occurred to me to teach you like a nonbender. Now, I’m much less practiced at this technique, but let’s give it a try.”

She picked up her own ball of clay and settled herself across from Kyoshi.

“Cup it between your hands and push both your thumbs in together, like you’re making the mouth of a vase. Now hold it like this and move your fingers like this and concentrate on stretching out the walls as you rotate it. You want them to be about as thick as your pinky fingernail is tall all the way through. Well,” she amended, looking at Kyoshi’s hands, “maybe a little smaller than that. As you work, you’re going to draw it into more of a bowl shape and less of a pot shape.”

The first bowl got too thin in one side, and Kyoshi had to squish it down and start over, but the second one worked even if it was still too vase-like, and the third one was a passable turtle shell.

Madame Liu was visibly delighted. “Now you’re going to form four little legs, a tail, and a head. Make them sturdy enough not to snap off at the slightest knock.”

This part was far easier, and Kyoshi had six appendages ready in minutes. Madame Liu showed her how to position them on the shell, score both the shell and the limb where they should touch using a long, thin nail, and use a few drops of water to glue them before smoothing down the crease.

“You can draw the shell pattern on with the nail,” she explained. “Just start the pattern on the top and continue it down the sides.”

Kyoshi was slightly worried about messing the pattern up horribly, but somehow, it came out right on the first try.

It was quite dark by now, but Kyoshi couldn’t help but feel proud of the turtle as she set it carefully on the greenware shelf to dry.

“Once it’s completely dried out, I’ll put it in the kiln,” said Madame Liu.

“How long will that take?”

“Oh, anywhere from a few days to a couple of weeks. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

The fox got to its feet from where it had been curled in a ball out of the way. It stretched, and Kyoshi imagined it must be feeling stiff after having been there all day. It looked at her and let out a small bark, and Kyoshi grinned.

“Let’s go see Rangi.”

“Rangi!” she called, sprinting into the room and dropping beside her girlfriend, who had not visibly moved. The fox loped in behind her and flopped on the floor next to them. “I got it! You’re a genius. We were so focused on trying to earthbend it, but I can do it if I use my hands.”

Rangi snorted. “That’s so Avatar of you, forgetting that not everyone has all the bending styles.”

Kyoshi frowned. “It’s not like it occurred to Madame Liu, either.”

Rangi smiled at her tiredly. “So you have a turtle now?”

“I have a turtle! And now we’re waiting for it to dry before we fire it.”

“What are you going to do while you wait?”

“I don’t know. You’re the expert on your home, what do you want to do tomorrow?”

Rangi brightened. “There’s this beautiful beach I always wanted to take you to.”

Kyoshi woke the next morning to Rangi shaking her.

“Come on, lazypants, we’re going to the beach today.”

“Now?” groaned Kyoshi, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“No, not now, but we’re making lunch first, and if you don’t want me in charge of it, you’ll come help.”

Well aware of Rangi’s love of spice, Kyoshi dragged herself out of bed and to the kitchen, where Rangi was flitting about pulling things from shelves. She managed to set aside some vegetables and rice for herself before Rangi covered them in spices, but failed to beat her to the fish. That was fine, though, she could cover the fish in rice and dull the pain that way.

When the basket was packed, they set out. Kyoshi happened to glance at Rangi as they left the house, and frowned.

“Is it far to the beach?”

“Nah,” said Rangi, and straightened her back even more than her usual ramrod-straight posture, as if that would make her look less pale or the faint sheen of sweat on her brow disappear. She didn’t complain when Kyoshi took the basket, though.

They set out along a small path, which wound through a slightly wooded area until it came to a short stone cliff overlooking the water. Kyoshi wondered if maybe this was what passed for a beach here, but Rangi kept walking along the cliff. Half an incense stick’s worth of time or so later, they were still walking, and Rangi was panting just slightly.

“Rangi,” said Kyoshi quietly.

“No,” snapped Rangi.

How was it that she could be the Avatar and a full head taller than Rangi and still feel so helpless to stop her?

“Rangi.”

“What do you want me to say?” snarled Rangi, turning and whirling on her. “All right, we should go back? Then we’d still have to walk all that way and have no beach to show for it, and I’ll be in a terrible mood all day.” Her voice cracked slightly, to Kyoshi’s horror.

“How about we just stop and rest?” she tried. “Have a snack, maybe? We have all day. Unless when you said it wasn’t far, you meant ‘it only takes half a day to get there.’”

Rangi snorted a little at that. “All right,” she sighed, and dropped to the ground, curling up next to a nearby boulder and dangling her feet over the edge of the cliff. “Fine. Have it your way. We’ll rest.”

Kyoshi folded herself down to the ground next to her and drew a swirl in the dirt with a fingertip, unsure what to say. Rangi was always just so…capable. Kyoshi understood her frustration intimately, and by the same token had no idea how to help. The fox curled up beside her, back pressed against her thigh, as though offering what little comfort it could.

“You never did tell me about Yangchen,” Rangi said finally, propping herself against the boulder and leaning back. Kyoshi latched on to the topic eagerly.

“I didn’t? I guess I was distracted.” She tapped her fingers on her knee, trying to get her thoughts in order. “We all idolize Yangchen,” said Kyoshi finally. “I’ve heard it all my life. You know. Kuruk was the reckless, fun-loving Avatar, and Yangchen was the wise and noble sage. And it’s not that it’s wrong necessarily, it’s just…Kuruk was doing his best, doing what the world needed in his time, but no one was around to see it. And Yangchen was just a person. She wasn’t perfect either.”

“It makes sense,” said Rangi. “People like to divide other people up into good and evil, and it just doesn’t work that way most of the time. Was she the one who told you that your clay turtle was actually the Air Nomads’ sacred toy?”

“Yes. I hope it’ll still work, even though I’m not an Air Nomad.”

“It should. The idea is that the Avatar recognizes the toys deep in their subconscious, right, as being something they loved before. So the next one should recognize that toy as something important to them, too, it’s just going to be because you made it rather than because you played with it. And you made it based on a toy you did play with. It’s going to look basically the same, right?”

Kyoshi nodded. “Assuming she has the glazes. And I had to do the pattern from memory, it’s probably not quite right.”

“So it should be fine.” Rangi fished a waterskin out of the basket and took a draught. “Was it fun?”

Fun.

Kyoshi couldn’t remember the last time anyone had been concerned if what she was doing was fun.

She thought about it, about the satisfaction of working the clay until it was sturdy. A small smile tugged at her lips.

“Yeah,” she said finally. “It was.”

When Rangi stood up again and insisted they go on, Kyoshi let her. Some of the color had returned to her face, at least.

Finally, the rock shelf gave way to a spread of pink sand. Turquoise water lapped prettily at the edge, and a handy tree cast a shadow that was perfect to relax in.

Rangi was swaying slightly by this time, but she sat down immediately in the sand without complaint and stuck her feet in the surf.

“It really is beautiful,” remarked Kyoshi, looking around as she settled beside her. The water was an incredible shade of blue, and the plant life framed it like something out of a painting. Rangi leaned into her side, and Kyoshi was torn between being delighted at the show of affection and worried that it was actually a request for support. Either way, it called for the same response, she supposed, and wrapped her arm around Rangi’s shoulders, holding her close.

Kyoshi tried hard to dawdle through lunch and make sure they stayed at the beach for long enough that Rangi would have stored up enough energy to walk back. And Rangi managed to push past the halfway point, almost making it back to the house before she grabbed onto Kyoshi’s arm.

“Kyoshi,” she grunted, and Kyoshi immediately dropped the basket and reached out to take her weight, lowering her carefully to the ground and wrapping herself around Rangi, pulling her into her chest.

Rangi’s shoulders shook, and she choked on a sob. Kyoshi’s heart broke. She squeezed Rangi tightly and rested her chin on Rangi’s head, wishing she could take on some of the pain.

“I want to go back,” Rangi muttered after a minute. “Will you carry me?”

“Of course,” whispered Kyoshi, and gathered her and the basket up. Silent tears streaked down Rangi’s cheeks, and Kyoshi fought back sympathetic ones as she deposited Rangi onto her bedroll. Rangi curled up, back to Kyoshi, and Kyoshi let her.

When she laid down on her own, the fox curled up with her, and she let that happen, too.

They woke together with the sunrise, and settled into meditation without needing to speak. When Kyoshi opened her eyes again, Rangi was sprawled back on the bedroll, staring at the ceiling. Something cold lodged in Kyoshi’s chest.

“Rangi?” she tried quietly.

“There’s a waterfall in the opposite direction from the beach, in the forest,” said Rangi, not looking at her. “There’s a path. It’s easy to find. You should go.”

Kyoshi swallowed. “Without you?” she asked quietly.

“What are my options, Kyoshi?” said Rangi flatly, finally turning her head to look at her. “I can’t show you anything myself. The path to the waterfall’s uphill. So am I supposed to confine you to the house with me? Make you sit around and play nursemaid? Or let you go by yourself?”

Kyoshi couldn’t find the words to explain how much she didn’t want to do that, or why. Rangi’s point was a fair one. And Kyoshi was glad she wasn’t trying to force her body to climb up to a waterfall. That was only going to lead to a fight eventually. And it would only upset Rangi for Kyoshi to stay with her the entire time.

Sans any counterargument, she nodded silently and left. She stopped in the kitchen for a quick bite to eat, and the fox knocked into her ankle as if to reassure her that it was there.

She got Hei-Ran to show her to the path, and with no better ideas, she started down it.

It was hot, sticky work. Thankfully, she’d opted to leave her armor and gloves behind. She was unlikely to run into any enemies here, either personal or political, and it wasn’t as though she was ever defenseless. The path wasn’t steep, but it was a noticeable incline. Maybe the day was just hotter, or maybe it was the exercise, but even though this area of the island was more thickly forested than the path to the beach, the sun filtering through the leaves heated her face to burning, probably giving her more freckles, and made her sweat through her clothes. Bugs buzzed around her head. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

It would have been fun if she was with Rangi, and they could tease each other and lightly roughhouse, or even just talk.

The path rounded a bend, and Kyoshi found herself at the top of the waterfall, looking down a dizzying drop. The water emerged from a crack in the rock wall and splashed down the rocks in several arcing streams, messy and uncoordinated, throwing up rainbows in the dappled sunlight. The path wound over the top of the rock wall and down the other side, bringing Kyoshi level with a rock ledge that let her walk straight up to the water and stick her hands in it.

The cool water ran over her palms, bringing sweet relief to the parts of her skin that could feel it. Impulsively, she stuck her face in the way of a well-positioned stream arcing high over the path and felt the day’s heat and sweat wash away. She tilted her head and let the stream play over her cheeks, and then her hair. Water ran down the back of her tunic, pleasantly cooling.

Kyoshi almost, almost turned to tell Rangi that she should try it. But there was only the fox, which had not given up following her everywhere yet.

Instead, she burst into tears, pain clutching at her entire chest.

“This isn’t fair!” she told the fox between sobs. She plopped herself down on the ledge and buried her face in her hands.

Life isn’t fair, Kyoshi, said Jianzhu in her head. If life were fair, Yun would have been the Avatar in the first place. Then no one would have needed to die or be twisted into someone unrecognizable.

It seemed a childish thought. She rarely let herself think it. But there was no one here to judge her but the fox, and she was tired of being an adult.

“She’s so sad,” Kyoshi explained through the tears to the fox, which of course knew that, but it didn’t seem frustrated, just loafed down and looked at her, inviting her to vent.

“She’s so sad, and I can’t fix it, and I can’t even go hurt the people who did it, because Yun’s dead, and I didn’t want to kill him!” There isn’t even a convenient band of criminals for her to take it out on, so far. “I’m angry,” she realized suddenly, sobs petering out in the wake of it. She clenched her fists and stretched her fingers out again. “I’m angry and there’s nowhere for it to go.” She could throw a tantrum here, where no one could see her, but given her history, she would probably end up tearing great chunks out of the landscape, and she didn’t want to ruin Rangi’s home. Instead of earthbending, she took control of the stream and formed it into a whip, whirling it in the air above herself and smacking it down on the rock again with a satisfying splash.

The fox nudged her, and she reached down to scritch its ears.

“Thanks for listening,” she told it, and it headbutted her calf.

It seemed a shame to turn around and leave immediately, so instead Kyoshi found a comfortable spot on the rock and tried to calm her mind enough to meditate. Slowly, she focused her mind on her breathing, letting all other concerns drift away. Every thought that floated in was allowed to float out again unhindered.

“Kyoshi.”

She startled and opened her eyes, then startled again to see Kuruk in front of her, also seated on the rock, hugging one knee to his chest in a lazy-looking sprawl. He was staring down into the water.

“Kuruk,” she returned.

They sat in silence for a moment. Kyoshi considered asking him about Rangi, and discarded the idea, several times over, remembering Yangchen’s words.

“What is the point of having the connection to my past lives if you can’t tell me what I’m supposed to be doing?” she said at last, not entirely meaning it.

Kuruk laughed.

“I said the same thing, once. It’s true that you’re suited to your own Era, and that we can’t tell you how to be the right Avatar for your own time. But…” He ticked off on his fingers. “We can tell you the truth about the past, to help you make decisions with better information. We can remind you of who you are when you’re in danger of losing yourself. Sometimes, especially before you’re fully realized, we can protect you. And we can provide the same general life advice anyone asks their elders for, but with the perspective of knowing what it’s like to be the Avatar, to have the world resting on your shoulders. There’s value in that.”

Kyoshi looked up hopefully. “So can you tell me what I’m supposed to be doing for Rangi?”

Kuruk smiled gently. “You’re already doing it,” he pointed out. “You’re figuring it out together. This won’t break you.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s a lot like her mother,” said Kuruk, smile twisting into something wry. “And I may not have been the longest-lived Avatar, but I have enough years on me to tell the difference between an insurmountable chasm and two people blindly fighting their way back to each other. It might not be easy, but neither of you wants to give this up, you know.”

Kyoshi remembered suddenly that her past life had loved Rangi’s mother.

That was just too weird to contemplate, and she put it out of her mind again.

“So you can advise me on my love life, just not the politics of the Fire Nation?”

Kuruk laughed again. “Rangi will probably be better help than me. And give it a little time, I bet Szeto will have some pointers.”

Between one breath and the next he was gone. Kyoshi stuck her head in the water again, feeling more settled.

The wet hair and the downhill slope made the return journey much more pleasant.

Rangi threw herself into her arms as soon as Kyoshi was in the door, heedless of Kyoshi’s sweaty clothes. Kyoshi squeezed her tightly, resting her chin on Rangi’s head.

“I’m sorry if I made you leave,” Rangi says, sounding close to tears. “I just wanted you to have a good time even if I can’t.”

“It was a gorgeous waterfall,” Kyoshi told her. “It would have been better with you, but we can go again.”

“I hate this so much.”

“I know,” Kyoshi whispered. “I hate it too.”

“I’m so mad at Yun for doing this to me, to us, and there’s…”

“Nothing you can do about it,” Kyoshi finished for her. “Me too. Me too.”

They fell asleep curled together, and woke the same way. They rose and meditated without speaking, and Kyoshi made them both congee. They were halfway through it when Rangi finally broke the silence.

“Do you really want to see the waterfall again just to go with me?”

Kyoshi looked at her, but couldn’t read anything from her face.

“Yes,” she answered. “Why wouldn’t I rather share it with you?”

“I was thinking. What if I rode in a wheelbarrow or cart, and you pulled it?”

Kyoshi could place the blank expression now. Vulnerability.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. That’s a great idea.” She had briefly entertained the idea of carrying Rangi on her back, but immediately dismissed it. She’d figured Rangi would hate it, and it would throw off Kyoshi’s balance on the occasionally-steep path. But if Rangi was suggesting it…

Kyoshi vowed to be worthy of her trust.

Hei-Ran found her looking for a cart, and suggested asking the blacksmith school when Kyoshi explained what she was doing. “They’ll almost certainly have a few extras lying around. You’ll have your pick. Go east down the main path for a quarter incense stick or so, you can’t miss it.”

Indeed, Kyoshi could not miss it. The blacksmith school was huge, a collection of smaller buildings packed together. Some appeared to be ordinary classrooms, and even more were forges. People bustled in and out of them, dressed in thick aprons and gloves. She could feel the heat coming off of it as she approached.

“Hello, young miss!” said a large burly man, catching sight of her. “What can I do for you?”

He didn’t recognize her. It made Kyoshi smile. Sometimes it was nice to be “young miss” instead of Avatar Kyoshi for a bit.

“I was hoping I could borrow a cart of some sort,” she said. “One of my friends is recovering from an injury, and she wants to visit the waterfall up the mountain.”

“Recovering from an injury? Ah, that’d be Miss Rangi,” said the blacksmith, stroking his beard. “Terrible, to see a spirit like hers so flattened. Tell you what, for the waterfall you’ll want something with sides, and something you can pull behind you, lessen the risk of taking a tumble. I’ve got a wheelbarrow with a yoke that should do it, if you can take her weight. But that shouldn’t be a problem for a good-sized young miss like you and a little wisp like Rangi.”

Kyoshi couldn’t help but smile at the big man’s idea of reasonable proportions. Rangi was barely on the short side for a Fire National woman.

“That would be wonderful,” she said instead.

“I’ll be right back,” said the blacksmith, and disappeared. He came back minutes later dragging the wheelbarrow just as described, and passed it over to Kyoshi with a coil of rope to secure it with. “Now, like I said, that’ll do for the mountain. But if Miss Rangi needs a little extra help getting around the flat parts of the island, you should drop by the carpentry school. They’ve made contraptions for that purpose before.”

“Thank you,” said Kyoshi. “Where would I find the carpentry school?”

The carpentry school turned out to be closer to the blacksmith school than to Hei-Ran and Rangi’s home, so she went there next. It was similarly giant, though this time it was made out of a few large barns rather than a dozen smaller buildings. Kyoshi poked her head into one and found it bustling with activity. People were hard at work sawing and hammering, sawdust flying everywhere and making her want to sneeze. She was loathe to interrupt anyone, focused as they were, for fear of startling them while they swung heavy tools.

Instead, she ducked into the next one and found it much emptier. A handful of people were gathered around a table with what looked like plans spread out on it, while a tall, narrow woman lectured. She wasn’t paying attention to Kyoshi, either, but one of the students caught sight of her and nudged his fellow. That student followed his gaze and turned to whisper in the ear of the student next to her, and the teacher picked up on their distraction and turned to spot Kyoshi.

“Yes?” she demanded. Kyoshi quailed slightly.

“I, um. The blacksmith suggested I come here,” she started. “I have an injured friend who has trouble walking distances, and I asked him about borrowing a cart to carry her. He said to ask here.”

The woman’s face didn’t soften, but she said, “Next building, ask Master Lan. You’ll know him when you see him, don’t stare, tell him you’ve come to consult about a wheelchair. He might have one ready, or it might need to be made.” She turned back to her students, a clear dismissal, and Kyoshi bowed to nobody and tried the third building.

This one had several smaller tables. Students gathered around the tables, hard at work with plans, tools, and smaller pieces of woodwork. Teachers roamed between the tables, offering assistance as needed. She did know Master Lan when she saw him, not an old man but a greying one nonetheless. He sat in a chair propped on four wheels, and as she watched, he reached down to manipulate the wheels with his hands, steering himself from one table to the next expertly.

She approached and said, “Master Lan?” cautiously. He turned, beaming before he even properly looked at her.

“That’s me! What can I do for you, my girl?”

“I was told that you were the one to ask about wheelchairs,” said Kyoshi. Master Lan’s smile grew even wider.

“Sit! Sit! Who needs one and for what purpose?”

“Do you know Rangi?” Kyoshi asked, drawing out a chair for herself from the nearest table. The fox parked itself by her legs, and Master Lan reached out to pet it.

“Of course! Charming young girl. Spitfire.” His smile dimmed. “I had heard she was injured. Her legs?”

Kyoshi shook her head, marveling that he didn’t seem to see a contradiction between ‘charming’ and ‘spitfire.’ “Stabbed,” she answered bluntly. “In the back. She contracted an infection before a real healer was able to see her. I’m not sure how much she’s going to recover and how much is permanent, but for now at least, she gets tired quickly and can’t walk long distances.”

Master Lan nodded thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “Is her firebending affected?”

Kyoshi blinked. “I haven’t asked.” It was warm in Yokoya, when they left, and it’s warm on the Sei’naka’s island now, and they haven’t had to fight any battles, so Rangi’s had little reason to use her firebending in the first place.

“No matter, it changes nothing, I was just curious. Well, there’s hardly a point making the girl wait for a custom chair, especially if she only needs it for distances. I’ve got one that should fit her in storage now. If she gets a lot of use out of it and finds it gets uncomfortable after a time, bring her to me and we’ll measure her for a better one.” He turned nimbly and wheeled himself out the door. Kyoshi followed.

Master Lan led her to a storage shed, opened the door, and rifled through a large incomprehensible pile of wood. Chair legs, table corners, and a dozen less recognizable things jutted from the pile. Kyoshi had no idea how he found anything. Nevertheless, in a moment he’d tugged out a contraption and unfolded it into a chair.

Like his, the chair sat on four wheels, two small ones at the front and two large ones at the back. Unlike his, it had a headrest and pieces at the side that snapped down to become armrests, as well as handles on the back to push it with.

“It looks ideal,” said Kyoshi, bowing. “How much?”

Master Lan was waving it away almost before she got the words out. “For Rangi, it’s nothing. Tell her we all wish her well.”

After some wrangling, Kyoshi put the wheelchair into the wheelbarrow to drag them both back to the house. The fox hopped on for a ride, and looked utterly unrepentant when she glared at it.

Rangi was sitting outside in the dirt, leaning against the wall of the house and playing with a puppy. Her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair when she spotted Kyoshi.

“They had one, then?”

“Yes,” said Kyoshi, unloading the wheelchair and the fox. “And they sent me to the carpentry school to talk to a Master Lan, and he sent you this.”

Rangi’s mouth dropped open. “I never thought…” she murmured, standing up for a better look. “He gave you this?”

“Wouldn’t even let me pay for it. He said to tell you everyone wishes you well.” Rangi looked as though she might cry, so Kyoshi gestured to the chair. “Try it out?”

Rangi lowered herself into it, delicately, as though afraid it would break. Her hands naturally fell to the tops of the larger wheels, and she gave them a shove, pushing herself forward a pace. “Are there…yes.” She snapped down the armrests and leaned back into the headrest. To Kyoshi’s untrained eye, it looked to fit perfectly. Rangi shot her a small smile.

“And the other one?”

“This is far less comfortable,” Rangi grumbled, curled into the body of the wheelbarrow as Kyoshi climbed the steep path. “And undignified.”

“We could have taken the chair,” Kyoshi offered, wiping sweat off her own forehead and panting slightly in the heat. “We still could, if it really bothers you.”

“No,” Rangi sighed. “All you’d have to do is lose your footing a little bit and I’d get tossed down the path. I’m just complaining.”

When Kyoshi finally drew level with the plateau above the waterfall, she set the yoke down, turned to look, and choked on a laugh. The fox was sitting curled up on Rangi’s lap, letting her pet it.

“What? She’s soft,” said Rangi, scratching behind the fox’s ears before handing it off to Kyoshi and accepting a hand out of the wheelbarrow. Kyoshi didn’t let go, and neither did Rangi, and they held hands as they walked down the path that led right into the waterfall.

Before Kyoshi could open her mouth to suggest it, Rangi stuck her face in the stream, splashing water onto it and wetting down her hair with her free hand. Kyoshi grinned, hopelessly fond. Then Rangi unexpectedly yanked at their joined hands, and Kyoshi stumbled into the stream after her, getting the top of her dress drenched in seconds and instant relief from the heat of the day. She started laughing, and Rangi turned to her with a bright grin, eyes dancing with delight. Kyoshi had to kiss her, so she did, over and over between smiles.

When the water stopped being refreshing and started being cold, they sat down against the rock wall out of the spray, and Kyoshi bent the water out of their clothes.

“What do you think of the island?” asked Rangi. “You’ve been to a couple of the schools now.” She didn’t sound wistful, just curious.

“They’re impressive,” said Kyoshi honestly. “And huge. I didn’t expect that, after the pottery shop.”

“The pottery shop’s not a school,” explained Rangi. “The blacksmiths, carpenters, teachers, soldiers are all training students to live somewhere else as well as providing for the needs of the island. But pottery’s not one of the skills we sell. Madame Liu just makes things for the island.”

Kyoshi nodded, understanding. “She seems less stressed than the people at the schools.”

Rangi choked on a laugh. “That’s for sure. I imagine it’s like training at earthbending when you’re a servant versus training at earthbending when you’re the Avatar. Different level of expectations.” Kyoshi twitched a fan out of her belt and bent a clump of dirt at Rangi, who swatted it away.

“I should throw a fireball at you for that,” she threatened. “You know what, maybe I will.” She pointed two fingers at Kyoshi and sent a stream of flame at her. Kyoshi bent it away with splayed fingers, and noted that Rangi seemed to have no trouble with her bending.

Instead of commenting on it and ruining the moment, she mussed Rangi’s hair, and smiled fondly at the offended huff this got her. She let Rangi fix it before leaning over to kiss her sweetly.

“What are you going to name her?” Rangi asked after they broke apart, gesturing at the fox. Kyoshi blinked.

“Name her?”

Rangi smacked her arm. “She’s your animal companion. You can’t just not name her.”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” admitted Kyoshi. “What do you think?”

Rangi shrugged expansively. “Not my decision.”

Kyoshi rolled her eyes. “Not helpful.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

They sat in silence for a little while.

“I talked to Kuruk, last time I was up here,” said Kyoshi, more to make conversation than anything.

“Yeah? What did he have to say?”

“That you and me were going to be okay.” Kyoshi gave her a small smile. “And to ask you about Zoryu instead of him.”

Instead of laughing, Rangi sobered. “This wasn’t how I wanted to show you my home,” she said in a toneless voice, staring out into space.

Kyoshi’s stomach dropped. “I’m sorry I haven’t been more help,” she said quietly, staring at her knees. Rangi elbowed her, hard, right between two ribs, making Kyoshi yelp.

“Stop it.”

Kyoshi rubbed at her side and glared without heat.

“This was something I had to work through for myself,” said Rangi eventually. “And you did help. Are helping. You don’t have to have the solutions for everything just because you’re the Avatar, you know.”

It was such an obvious statement, and yet it went through Kyoshi like a wave. If she were standing, she thought she would have staggered back.

Of course she didn’t have to fix everything. Of course. She couldn’t. And yet the permission to just be this for Rangi felt like setting down a cask of oil after carrying it from the fields to the house.

They made their way back down to the house mostly in silence. Rangi walked beside her, hand in hand, content to walk under her own power downhill. For the last little bit of the journey, she leaned on Kyoshi, and when they got to the bottom of the hill, she raised her arms and demanded, “Carry me,” imperiously. Kyoshi scooped her up immediately, heart burning with loving her.

It was getting dark by then, and Rangi lit a small fire in her hand to see by. It wavered there, a tiny little thing, flickering and nothing like the effortless stream of flame she’d produced earlier.

Kyoshi felt Rangi’s chest heave as she struggled to catch her breath, and she understood.  Firebending came from the breath. When Rangi’s breathing wasn’t taxed, her bending was fine. Sure enough, as her breathing calmed, the flame grew stronger and steadier.

They tried out the wheelchair the next day. Rangi dragged her to the marketplace and introduced her to merchant after merchant. Their names all blended together in Kyoshi’s head, but she recognized the big blacksmith, who tugged Rangi into a careful hug, and the tall, severe woman from the carpentry school, who nodded at them approvingly. Rangi steered herself by moving the wheels with her hands, standing when she wanted a better look at something, and near the end of the day requesting Kyoshi to push her when she got tired.

They picked up groceries for the coming week, and took a lunch of rice and fruit sprawled out on the grass in a sunbeam. Kyoshi bought the fox a piece of meat, which it gnawed on happily before snagging one of the fruits from Kyoshi’s plate. Rangi laughed herself silly.

When they got back to the house, Rangi looked perhaps the least exhausted she had since they’d arrived, a fierce spark of joy in her eyes that Kyoshi hadn’t seen since before the injury. Hei-Ran and Atuat noticed as well, expressions of relief plain on their faces as Rangi chattered to them about the day’s adventures.

They folded up the chair and put it against the wall of the room. Kyoshi turned away, thinking to find some dinner, but a hand on her sleeve stopped her.

Rangi tugged her down and kissed her hard, pushing her against a wall. Kyoshi kissed her back just as fiercely.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Kyoshi managed when they broke apart to breathe.

“So don’t hurt me.”

They didn’t hurt each other, but they weren’t gentle, and when they finally fell asleep curled together, Kyoshi felt that something had slotted back into place.

They went back to the carpentry school, together this time. Rangi bowed, and Master Lan returned it from his chair.

“It’s good to see you, my dear,” he said, smiling kindly.

“And you, sifu,” returned Rangi. “Thank you very much for your kind gift.”

“Oh, child. It’s no trouble. We have to look after our own.”

Rangi frowned at him severely and bought a bench to be delivered later that Kyoshi was sure she didn’t need.

A week or so later, they received a message summoning Kyoshi back to the pottery shop to fire her turtle.

The kiln turned out to be a sort of brick tunnel as long as the Fire Palace a short walk away, built on the side of a hill. A fire burned at the bottom. Kyoshi half expected to be asked to light it, but either Madame Liu was wary her firebending might turn out to be as unpredictable as her earthbending, or she was so used to doing it for her normal daily work that it didn’t occur to her. Instead, she had Kyoshi helping her cart various pieces of greenware to all be fired at once. They arranged piece after piece on shelves in the belly of the kiln, before Madame Liu shut the door tight and stoked the fire.

“This will take about a day to fire,” she explained. “Come back the day after tomorrow, and you can glaze it.”

Kyoshi returned two days later, and, as promised, the turtle was waiting for her, now a pale pink, firm and slightly dusty to the touch. Bisqueware, Kyoshi remembered. First, she had to wax the bottom of the turtle, so glaze wouldn’t get on the kiln shelves. Next, Madame Liu presented her with large buckets of colored, opaque liquid, which had to be stirred vigorously. Kyoshi dipped a finger in each to check that they were fully mixed, and they came out coated in color.

Under Madame Liu’s sharp eye, she carefully painted the shell a dark brown glaze and dipped each appendage into a pale one that Madame Liu promised would turn out a light green.

The glaze dried quickly into a layer of powder, and Kyoshi carried the turtle to the kiln and set it on a shelf inside gently. When they got back to the pottery shop, Rangi was standing there, leaning against the wall. When she saw them, she straightened back into perfect soldier’s posture, bowing to Madame Liu.

“Done?” she asked Kyoshi, who nodded and stood next to her. “Good, because I want to show you this grove up in the mountains. We’ll stop at home for the cart; you’ll need to carry me.”

“Are you telling me that you’re using the Avatar as a common pack ostrich horse?” scolded Madame Liu. Kyoshi looked at Rangi, remembering hours of stance training, and started giggling helplessly.

“It’s good for her,” Rangi managed with a straight face, and then she broke too, leaning against Kyoshi to laugh.

As requested, Kyoshi pulled out the cart. They walked to the base of the mountain, and Kyoshi held it steady while Rangi climbed into it (once again followed by the fox), then placed the yoke against her shoulders. The path was fairly obvious, well-trodden and clear of stray branches, so they lapsed into silence as Kyoshi hiked. It was just as steep as the path to the waterfall, but thankfully the temperature was a good bit lower this time and the exercise much less onerous as a result. It was more thickly wooded and much less well maintained, and Kyoshi had to constantly push branches out of the way, but she’d take it.

Out of nowhere, Rangi said, “You know there aren’t a lot of people I’d let do this, right?”

“Yes.” Kyoshi was very aware. “I don’t take that lightly.”

“It’s not dishonorable to ask for help when you need it, especially from your family.” Rangi might have been talking to herself, her voice was so quiet.

Family. Rangi considered her family. Kyoshi thought for a minute that she might cry.

The sun was setting when they reached flat ground again.

“Stop here,” said Rangi, relieving Kyoshi’s fears about climbing further in the dark. When Kyoshi obeyed, she climbed out of the cart and set the fox on the ground. “This way.” She took Kyoshi’s hand and led her around a bend in the road. Kyoshi gasped.

It was a natural clearing in the forest. The grove was beautiful in the twilight, the low light bouncing off of climbing vines and clusters of flowers. Lightning bugs blinked on and off, darting around the grove, a hundred tiny lights. The fox bounded into the middle, chased a lightning bug for a moment, and then disappeared behind a tree on the other side. Kyoshi wasn’t worried. It would be back.

“This is my favorite spot on the island,” said Rangi, so quietly it was almost a whisper. “I’ve wanted to show you for a while.”

It was romantic, which was so unlike Rangi that Kyoshi had to kiss her.

“When Atuat lets me go, I want to come with you,” Rangi told her when they broke apart, still clutching onto Kyoshi’s arms with both hands. “I want to travel with you on your Avatar business and not have us be separated just because I’m injured, not like when my mother was.”

“I hadn’t considered anything else,” Kyoshi said honestly. Rangi cuddled into her side and rested her head on a shoulder.

After a few beats, she added hesitantly, “You know I might not get better than this, right? I might. But if I don’t…I’m not going to be much help in fights or anything.”

“I don’t care if you never fight beside me again as long as you’re happy and you’re with me.” Maybe that last part was selfish, but Kyoshi didn’t care. “I don’t love you just for your ability to kick my ass, you know.”

Rangi snickered into her shoulder.

“Good. And don’t think I can’t put you through stance training like this, either. You’re not getting away with any slacking off.”

Kyoshi couldn’t wait.

She kissed Rangi again hungrily, desperately. Rangi kissed her back the same way. A sudden blow to the back of her knee made her stagger and break away.

“You could just ask,” she pointed out, sitting down and letting Rangi climb into her lap. “You don’t actually need to kick my legs out from under me.”

“It’s fun, though,” replied Rangi, smirking at her. It turned into a real grin as Kyoshi pressed kisses to her neck and face, and she cupped Kyoshi’s face in the palm of one hand to recapture her lips. When she started unbuckling the belt that held Kyoshi’s dress together, Kyoshi pulled away to stare at her.

“You want to? Now? Here?”

“You don’t see anyone else here, do you?” But she didn’t undress them all the way, and indeed, no one bothered them as they moved together in the near-darkness.

Rangi kept her promise the very next morning, turning the flat ground behind the house into a makeshift training ground and making Kyoshi hold a horse stance until her legs ached so badly she was honestly surprised they hadn’t given out from under her. Eventually, Rangi had mercy and allowed Kyoshi to wobble off to the well to collapse and drink about a bucketful of water. The fox followed her and plopped down beside her in a neat commiserating loaf.

“You’re really determined to stay, huh? What do you think of the name Yanli?” Kyoshi said to the fox. She barked, got up, and climbed into Kyoshi’s lap. Kyoshi laughed. “I’ll take that as approval.” She reached out tentatively to stroke the orange fur. They sat in silence.

Then Rangi flung herself down beside them, and Yanli immediately abandoned Kyoshi’s lap for hers. Kyoshi tried to feel slighted, and choked on a laugh instead. Of course Yanli picked Rangi. Kyoshi picked Rangi. Rangi petted the fox between the ears happily.

“So I was thinking, about Zoryu,” she said with no lead in. “If you really want my take on that. I have thoughts.”

They went back to the potter’s shop late that afternoon. Madame Liu met them at the door.

“Ready?” she said briskly, and marched Kyoshi off toward the kiln without waiting for an answer. Rangi followed them curiously.

Madame Liu opened the kiln door and disappeared inside. “Be careful,” she reminded them.

“It would be a shame to break a piece after spending so long on it,” agreed Rangi, keeping her arms carefully tucked in at her sides and following her in. Kyoshi brought up the rear. They wound their way through shelves of newly glazed pieces in blues, greens, and neutrals. Kyoshi noticed a fancy coil patterned dish, a bronze color emphasizing the pattern against a background of green, and wondered idly if Madame Liu would teach her how to make it.

They came to the end of the kiln, and Madame Liu plucked something off the shelf and handed it to Kyoshi, who took it carefully.

Her jaw dropped.

Knowing what glaze was supposed to look like after firing had not prepared her for the sight of her turtle, now a soft sea green with a rich brown shell, smooth to the touch when she ran a finger over it wonderingly.

“You made that?” asked Rangi, staring. “It’s beautiful.”

It really was. It wasn’t exactly the same as the old one, but it was close, closer than she’d allowed herself to hope for. It looked like something a child might play with. She thought Yangchen would approve.

“Now,” said Madame Liu, “you girls wouldn’t mind helping an old woman carry these, would you?”

And before either of them could answer, she was loading them down with two intricate blue vases for Rangi and a large ornamental plate for Kyoshi and shooing them back out of the kiln.

As they helped cart the finished pottery back to the shop and arranged it on the proper shelves, Kyoshi put out a wish for the future Air Avatar, two generations in her future. I hope you love it as much as I do.

Maybe she’d get to tell them this story someday.