Hao was dancing through the gates as the others slept. As a military man, he was used to sleeping very little, so he trained well into the night. His ears were filled with snores and the rushing of wind, when a voice cut through it, Aang's voice, "no! Don't leave me! I don't want you to go away!"
Aang was dreaming, a nightmare unfolding beneath his resting eyes. His tattoos glowed faintly in his distress. From the avatar hall, he could see that same light shining out of the slitted windows.
Hao approached him carefully, reaching out to him, placing his hand on his shoulder and singing softly, "leaves from the vine, falling so slow. Like fragile tiny shells drifting in the foam. Little soldier boy, come marching home. Brave soldier boy, come marching home
Those leaves have grown from branches overgrown. Drifting slowly down, resting in the loam. Little soldier boy, taken from your home, forced to fight in a war not your own
Leaves from the vine, changing so slow, like empty fallen souls, Looking for a home. Little soldier boy thought he could soar. Brave soldier boy, died there in war" he sang a melody back from his home, tragic and solemn, a song often sung by grieving family. War took many casualties. It felt only appropriate to sing him to sleep using that melody, for he too was grieving. A heavy loss, the first loss of the war. The boy eased under the comforting tunes, no longer shaking in his sleep, still, he looked tense, not from nightmares but from weight laid heavy on his shoulders. The expectation to renew the lost nation which had been wiped out. Hao would help carry that burden. His ancestors had brought it's doom and now, he would help rebuild everything but first, before any of that could happen, the war had to end and for that, Aang needed to master the four elements. The war had carried on for a hundred years, a few more wouldn't make a difference.
"You have a beautiful singing voice", Katara's voice was soft and quiet, as to not disturb her brother or Aang, both fast asleep.
"You are awake? You need your sleep, you are still growing"
"You are only a few years older than me, it's not as if you are this ancient well of knowledge, you are barely a man"
"And yet I am still older, so go sleep, we will depart tomorrow morning"
"Have you ever killed?" Her voice was barely a whisper and yet, it felt like a fiery explosion in the cold winter air, "whilst Aang and you were having fun, I read a few of the scrolls in your room, philosophy. I didn't understand much of it but I understood enough. Air nomads are pacifists, peacekeepers, free thinkers. You were in the military, surely you have plenty of blood on your hands, how can you sleep after killing innocents"
"They weren't innocent… no one I killed was innocent, all warriors, all with plenty of blood on their hands but yes, I felt awful… at first. I would throw up, thinking of my armor coated in soldiers blood, both from the earth kingdom and the fire nation but I was given no time to mourn my humanity lost. It was battle after battle, fight after fight. I grew colder, distancing myself from what I was doing. Killing changes you. If I could go back, stop myself from enlisting to take over the family bakery, would I do it? Maybe but that doesn't matter, I cannot change the past, so I can only look forward, change for the better. I won't promise to never shed blood again, I couldn't uphold that promise. Some situations, you can't resolve peacefully, no matter how much I did wish it were possible but I can try my best. Now enough about philosophy and war, go to sleep, Katara and rest. I too grow tired, so I will settle in for the night as well" Hao snuggled his way into his sleeping bag and he found himself wandering in his dream around the air temple, only it wasn't in ruins like it was nowadays. Air nomads children ran around, adults meditated, lemurs ate from little boys' hands and sky bisons lazily drifted through the air. He had come to embrace these dreams, gaining insight into what once was and what would hopefully come again. At first he didn't know how he could see these visions of the distant past but he learned from the scrolls. Airbenders were the most spiritual of all benders, some even leaving their bodies behind to explore the world untether momentarily. Unlike the other nations, every air nomad was born a bender, that was how strong the connection between the spirits and the monks was. These had to be visions sent by the spirits around.
He watched the children playing air ball, it seemed much more fun in bigger teams than one on one.
"You are back already? It hasn't even been a week" an older voice said from besides him. Glancing over, he saw his spiritual guide through these resonances of the past, a monk with a bead necklace hanging loosely from his neck. His smile was missing a few teeth.
"I have met someone important today", Hao's eyes met the monks', a small smile graced his lips. Aang was the avatar, he had lived here a hundred years ago. Did he know the old monk?
"Yes, I have been observing. You must help him. Big changes are coming, the time is running out", he said as if commenting on the weather.
"What changes? What aren't you telling me, Gyatso?"
"There have been whispers flowing through the realms. The war nears its end. One way or another. No one knows exactly when but the end is nigh"
"I won't get anything else out of you, will I? Well, for now let's enjoy this peaceful memory whilst it lasts", Hao's gaze flickered to the bisons.