“What do you mean it’s not him.” Jianzhu repeated, though Kyoshi didn’t doubt he had heard Nyahitha the first time.

Nyahitha took his hands away from his hair and straightened his posture. “I told you. It’s not him. He’s just… he’s just a normal earthbender. He isn’t the Avatar.”

Hei-Ran interrupted before Jianzhu could respond, putting her hand over the earthbender’s shoulder. The older woman’s eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing. “How do you know?”

“I can tell! I know what Kuruk’s spirit feels like!” Nyahitha explained, newfound force behind his voice. “Yun isn’t Kuruk’s reincarnation! I can tell!”

Kyoshi glanced at her father, the worry in her own heart painted all over his features. The older airbender stepped forward and put his hand over Nyahitha’s shoulder.

“Nyahitha,” Kelsang spoke slowly and calmly, like he did when Kyoshi was frustrated or afraid. “I knew you and Kuruk shared a… connection, but maybe you’re jumping to conclusions. It can’t be that easy to determine the identity of the Avatar from one meditation session.”

“I concur.” Jianzhu stated. His voice hadn’t grown any less distinguished or profound, despite the circumstances. The earthbender put his hand over Nyahitha’s shoulder- a gesture that would've been seen as supportive if not for the panicked expression on the sage’s face as he removed Jianzhu’s hand.

“I haven’t lost my touch.” Nyahitha spat. “That’s impossible. I know how Kuruk’s spirit flows, how it reacts, what it feels like. That boy is not his reincarnation.”

A deafening silence fell across the small room until Hei-Ran broke it. “Nyahitha, you’ve been retired for almost two decades now. You’re living in- where, North Chung-Ling? Needless to say, you haven’t been the most rooted in the spiritual as you could be-”

Nyahitha threw his hands over his eyes. “At least I haven’t been murdering people like all of you!”

After a moment of pause, Jianzhu drew his hand over his eyes. “Nyahitha, they were Daofei.”

“That doesn’t justify it.” He sent a glare towards Hei-Ran. “Certainly didn’t justify what she did.”

Rangi alternated between looking at her mother and Kyoshi, before uttering a shaking reply. “Mother… what did you do?”

Hei-Ran stalled in responding long enough for Yun to open the other side of the door, standing directly behind his new spiritual teacher. Even from a distance, Kyoshi could see the tears in the corners of the boy’s eyes. “Sage Nyahitha…?”

Nyahitha spun around in shock, almost falling over but managed to brace himself on the doorway. “Y-Yun. You…?”

“I heard everything.” Yun muttered, looking at his feet to avoid eye contact with anyone. “Is… you’re telling the truth, right?”

“I am.” Nyahitha’s voice was soft, especially compared to the glare he sent to Jianzhu. “You… you aren’t the Avatar.”

Kyoshi reached out to touch Yun’s shoulder, even though she couldn’t muster anything to say. She retracted it, though, when he abruptly turned to his teachers. “Wh- what? Was it a lie? Why would you lie to me?”

Jianzhu’s facade lapsed- he turned to Hei-Ran and Kelsang and even the still-silent Amak for support. “We should all sit down for this. It’s… it’s a bit of a long story.”

Wordlessly, they all shuffled into the parlor to speak in an enclosed space. Kyoshi, who ended up being the last to exit the hallway, shut the heavy door behind her before she joined the others in the center of the room. Whatever they were talking about, it needed to be kept behind closed doors.

The room hadn’t changed since the last time Kyoshi had seen it- all the furniture moved to the walls, the floor space occupied by a rug. Instead of moving the chairs back, it seemed everyone was impatient enough to make due on the floor, sitting in a circle around a ring of lit candles- the only light in the room. Kyoshi soon found a seat next to her father, but reconsidered her choice when she noticed it distanced her from Yun. It was too late to move, though, because Nyahitha spoke.

“When we began meditating, I was able to tell there was something off about Yun.” The sage explained, using as little gestures as possible to accentuate his words. “I know the Avatar Spirit- even though it’s been years, it’s still recognizable.”

Rangi cleared her throat. “And, uh, how do you know this?” To her, a military-raised combative bender, Nyahitha must’ve sounded like he was making up words as he said them.

“A lifetime of spiritual training.” The sage responded curtly. “Yun has the spirit of an earthbender- steady, persistent, and powerful, but not the Avatar.”

Yun, who was already sitting improperly, buried his face in his knees.

“Are you certain of this?” Jianzhu pressed the last few words of his question.

Nyahitha nodded. “Fairly. There’s more I could do, but I’m pretty sure you have something to tell us, Architect.”

Jianzhu tensed at the mention of one of his titles and glanced at Kelsang. Kyoshi’s father mirrored the motion, then looked down at his tattooed hands.

“We found Yun in the village of Makapu.” The earth sage explained after clearing his throat. “It’s a small town up on the North-Western peninsula, known for its proximity to Mount Makapu, a small volcano. From what we could tell, he had lived on the streets his entire life, though he possessed a rare skill for Pai Sho. He-”

“He replicated Kuruk’s strategies.” Kelsang interrupted. “Move-for-move. It was impossible, so it had to be him.”

“Indeed.” Jianzhu seconded. “Once we say him earthbend, there was no question of it- the boy was the Avatar. There were too many improbabilities to reconsider it.”

Nyahitha’s brow furrowed. He leaned forward, and the candles closest to him flared up in response to his passive bending. “So that was it? You found one kid with some weird skills and maybe a few coincidences with Kuruk and suddenly now he’s the Avatar? Do you know how many children you’ve qualified for the position now?”

“Nyahitha…” Jianzhu’s voice spelled warning as delicately as he could phrase it.

“Have you lost your minds? Has tradition been cast aside?” Once again, Nyahitha put his hands to his eyes, then to his hair. Kyoshi was surprised his bun had lasted so long, at this rate. “Did none of you think to check with anybody?!”

Jianzhu straightened his posture enough to gain intimidation without actually standing up. “Nyahitha, times were desperate! We hadn’t had an Avatar in fourteen years by that point!”

“And you didn’t have a need for one, after decimating every criminal organization from here to Agna Q’ela.” The sage scoffed.

“Nyahitha…” Hei-Ran cautioned.

“What?” He exclaimed.

After sighing, Jianzhu continued. “The world needed an Avatar, and I took it upon myself to deliver one into its hands. It seemed like the will of the spirits, that we found him at the time we did.”

Nyahitha took a moment to respond. “The spirits didn’t will that you found the wrong kid, I can tell you that much. This is all your fault.”

“I know.” Kelsang murumered. He turned to his student. “Yun, I am so sorry. I can’t apologize enough.

Jianzhu didn’t apologize. “We’re jumping to conclusions, after what- a hunch?”

“Has he ever firebent?” Nyahitha asked. Instead of making eye contact with Jianzhu, he turned to Hei-Ran.

Hei-Ran didn’t respond.

“Hei-Ran, I asked you a question. Has he firebent?”

The headmistress shook her head. “No. He’s never even shown signs of being able to produce flame.”

Nyahitha didn’t respond, his point proven. The room fell into dead silence, save for Yun’s occasional whimper.

“We still aren’t certain yet.” Jianzhu declared, resting his fist on an open palm. “Nyahitha, you said there was something more you could do.”

The sage nodded. “Yes, I can read his energy. Yun, come over here. I need you to lay flat on you back.” Nyahitha got to his knees and gestured to the space in front of him. Yun reluctantly complied, laying with his face to the ceiling before them all, like a dead body on display. He closed his eyes.

“Now, this might feel weird, but it won’t hurt.” Nyahitha said warmly as he guided his hands over Yun’s body, creating delicate paths of flame as he did. It was only as she watched him repeat the process did she notice he was going over Yun’s energy pathways- the same pathways her tattoos symbolized.

After three more passes of fire over Yun’s body, Nyahitha helped the young boy sit up, putting his hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry. You aren’t the Avatar.”

Yun didn’t make any verbal response, but buried his head in his hands.

“Are you certain?” Hei-Ran asked. Her voice was cautious.

Nyahitha nodded. “There’s no better way to be sure than with energy-reading. He isn’t the Avatar.”

Kyoshi looked to her father, who had covered his own eyes to hide, and to Rangi, who looked on the verge of exploding. Neither sight gave her any consolation.

“Are we sure we can trust his judgement?” Rangi sputtered. “I mean- Mother, he-”

“He’s right.” Yun mumbled into his own sleeve. “I’ve never firebent, I’ve never connected with my past lives. I’ve never done anything to prove myself as the Avatar. I’m nothing.”

Kyoshi wanted to walk over the candles and throw her arms around her friend, to cry and plead and tell him that of course, he wasn’t nothing. She wanted to apologize for sins she hadn’t committed. Kyoshi restrained herself.

“So…” Kyoshi dared to ask. “What happens next?”

Instead of providing an answer, Hei-Ran got to her feet and calmly left the room. Jianzhu and Amak (who had remained silent the entire ordeal, somehow) soon followed, as did Rangi, but not without raising the intensity of the candlelight in her fury. Kyoshi reached out to stop her but was caught by the flame, the heat leaving a burn across her hand. She fell backwards, only to be caught by Kelsang.

“Kyoshi, are you alright?” Her father asked, his voice tired and calm.

Kyoshi nodded and sat up. “Yeah. I’m going to go wash up some.”She hesitated before adding. “You should help Yun.”

Kyoshi stayed only long enough to see her father nod before disappearing down the hallway.

Kyoshi didn’t follow Jianzhu and Hei-Ran, or even try to find where Rangi had ended up. Instead, she ran aimlessly down the hallway, cutting tight corners and moving fast enough that she didn’t have to think. Somewhere, in the back of her head, a voice reminded her that she was passively using her airbending to increase the speed of her movements, and that she should probably be more careful about running indoors, but she ignored it. Kyoshi’s footsteps were heavy as she passed through the maze of hallways and libraries and art on display, until she reached the room she was looking for- a small closet-like space on the residential floor. It was the washroom she used daily, just a few doors down from her bedroom here at the mansion. Kyoshi didn’t know why she had traveled up a flight of stairs to get to it, but it was too late to reconsider.

After closing the door behind her- Kyoshi hadn’t passed anyone in the hallway but figured it was better to be cautious- she fell to the wall and sighed, letting out the tears she had wanted to cry back in the parlor.

It was wrong. Everything was wrong. If they had all been mistaken about the identity of the Avatar- for years, none the less- there wasn’t any limit to what else could be a lie. She didn’t know what was going to happen next or what was going to happen to Yun or even if she would ever see either of her friends again- they might send Yun back to wherever he was from and Rangi to the Fire Nation and her to the temple as an attempt to cover up the mess. It was as if someone had pulled a thread in the fabric of the world, and now everything else was falling apart, ruining the delicate embroidery they had all spent so long working on.

Kyoshi buried her head in her hands, only to notice the burn across her palm. The red mark served as a brutal reminder of why she was here in the first place. Retrospectively, she probably should’ve seen the healers first.

After a moment’s wait, Kyoshi gathered herself up and moved over to the washbowl. She rolled up her sleeve and rested her injured hand in the still water, letting the chill numb the pain. As she waited for the pain to fully subside, tears welled in her eyes. Kyoshi couldn’t help but collapse over the table as she wept, but for what she couldn’t tell. All she knew was that she needed to pour her emotion into water- into the tears in her eyes and the rain outside and the water around her hand. It was all she could do.

The pain subsided, faster than it should have. Kyoshi opened her eyes to see a thin glove of glowing water, coating her injured hand. The burn itself was nowhere to be found, like she erased it from existence.

Kyoshi instantly recognized what she had done- she had seen the effect on her own wounds time after time, but it had never been of her own making. Now- it was only her here, no healers in sight to fix her. She had done it herself. It was impossible. She had bent water.