The stairs went on long enough to start feeling personal.
They were carved from the same black stone as the temple ribs below, but here the ceiling pressed closer, the air swept with wind from many wide windows out of sight, and the light came less from braziers and more from thin slits in the wall where daylight bled in reluctantly. Every footstep rang like a royal herald, and felt like it cost a king's ransom.
Aang kept climbing anyway, because he could almost feel Roku waiting.
Shyu led the way with his ring of keys chiming softly at his hip. He didn't limp. He didn't huff. He looked like someone who had spent his whole life inside this place and still woke up grateful for it, which… Katara told herself was normal. Priests were supposed to be like that.
"Don't worry, you're in plenty of time," he assured them both, glancing back with a kind smile.
Katara watched the back of Shyu's headpiece. Watched his shoulders. Watched how quickly he'd recovered from Momo's face-attack, how neatly he'd tucked his fear away like it was part of his robe. She was looking for something off about him, she wanted there to be something off about him, because there was definitely, absolutely something off about the guy, and it was a bit maddening.
Aang kept both arms wrapped around the bundled spear like it might fuss like a cat and scamper back down the stairs. Every few steps his eyes flicked down, then forward again, then down again.
"Please tell me this is it," Aang anxiously grumbled.
Shyu glanced back with a mild, kindly expression as he opened the door at the top of the stairs. "It is, in fact."
Aang's relief was so sharp it almost hurt. "Good. Great. Let's go."
Katara's mouth tightened. Too easy, her gut insisted. She hated that her gut was getting so paranoid. They reached a landing that opened into a tall antechamber with huge black obsidian pillars, gilded too, of course. But all within was an aesthetic that subtly or clearly pointed or directed one's eyes and feet for the massive and complicated door. As huge and unbreakable as the outer door to the temple, but a complex lock with five holes and moving parts covered its surface, and something like daylight filtered under it like a promise of salvation.
Aang stopped like he'd hit an invisible wall, he glanced around frantically, and wanted to smack himself for how obvious it was.
"That's… that's it," he breathed, staring at the gem, dead center and so much bigger than he expected, his eyes passed over it thrice.
Shyu's smile softened into something almost reverent. "Avatar Roku's chamber. It has waited a very long time. I trust you, Avatar, can open it? I haven't been able to since the other sages left."
"The others left?" Katara instantly almost accused, hoping that was the loose thread.
Shyu just looked defeated, and admitted like it was his own shame, "the Fire Lord would not support us if we sided with you, Avatar, and the others... lacked the will to remain faithful."
"Oh, I'm sorry, that's terrible," Aang softly said as he shuffled closed to the door. "Thanks for holding out for me, though! I woulda been so lost here," he nervously laughed.
Katara stepped closer, careful. The air felt… heavier here. Not hot, exactly. Not cold. Just dense, like the room was full of sightless smoke, leaving even lungs oblivious to suffocation.
Aang swallowed, breathed hard. "Okay." He looked at Katara, then forced a grin like he could charm the moment into being less terrifying. "We touch spear to gem, Roku talks, and then this whole nightmare ends."
Katara nodded because she didn't want to be the reason he hesitated. She didn't want to be the reason they didn't make it in time.
Shyu lifted his hands in a gentle, guiding gesture. "Yes. Please. Quickly."
Aang shifted the bundle higher in his arms, fingers fumbling at the cloth like it was a snake he had to unwrap without letting it know he could be bit. The golden spearhead showed itself a fraction, smugly blinding Katara with a glare even under shadow, and she felt that hollowness again, like her bending itself was afraid and retreating to the depths of her soul.
She clenched her jaw and breathed slow, like Raven had told them. She wouldn't just... collapse! She riled herself up, deliberately, but it worked. She didn't do anything to the stupid spear, why was it always crushing her down like this? It made her mad enough to storm right over next to Aang an Shyu, having lingered timidly back at first. It was like she could borrow Raven's overconfidence if she pretended hard enough.
Aang held the uncovered spear up, trying but not quite reverently, and Shyu's eyes brightened, not joy—Katara saw something else, like the anticipation of a wolf.
It struck her at once. Shyu never mentioned Arzayanagi at all, but he knew what it was. He acted like he didn't know how Aang could open the door, but he's not questioning Aang at all!
"Aang!" she blurted, too sharp, she hoped not too late. "Stop!"
Aang paused, spear hovering inches away, his expression pinched. "What?"
Katara's heart pounded. Words tripped over each other. "I don't trust him, he knows something, why isn't he—" she turned to glare at Shyu, "why aren't you even asking what he's doing?!"
Shyu's smile stayed on his face like it had been nailed there. "Young waterbender," he said gently, almost amused, "I simply trust the Avatar knows what he's doing!" But he started to sweat.
"I never told you I was a bender!" Katara instantly accused, and stepped between Aang and the doors by instinct, even though she was too small to matter if something went wrong. "No. Aang, stop. Something's wrong. He's lying. He's an Arzayan but he acted like he doesn't know Raven?! Heir to House Arza?!" And she glared at Shyu again. "What are you up to, you viper bat?!"
"I—I... what? I am struggling to keep up," he glanced at Aang with as genuine of concern as he could express. "You don't have much time, Avatar."
Aang looked torn in half. He hadn't suspected a thing, but Katara was raising some odd points. He stared at the gem. Then at Katara. Then at Shyu's calm face. Then back at the gem, like maybe the right answer was written on it.
Shyu's voice stayed mild as he held up his hands as if to yield, "Avatar, I assure you, I am on your side." And he did seem completely genuine even to Katara, for a moment. "Which is why I must apologize..." he trailed off, deflating and looking meeker than before.
"Apologize?" Aang's hands tightened on the spear. He blinked himself out of some odd state of mind, like he'd finally listened to the part of himself that had been screaming since Hei Bai. "For what?" he flatly accused.
"For this," he gently said, still smiling as his hands flew. He lunged up, and Katara was certain he was making to attack Aang, so she stumbled and just got caught between them as Aang tried to face the shockingly sudden move.
Shyu's hand snapped out and seized the haft through the cloth still half hanging. Aang instinctively pulled away, as if to keep it. But that wasn't Shyu's goal. He jerked Aang forward, stumbling a step, and they all heard the loud pitch of gold metal touching that giant ruby.
"Aang, no!" Katara panicked, trying to shove them apart.
"Katara, agh!" Aang blurted as she fell forward on her knees.
Shyu let go, and stood there looking bewildered, but he quickly rose to a firebending stance. Aang reacted without a thought, palm forward and stepping into it, he threw Shyu back. The bending felt oddly weak, but it was still enough to topple the man.
Aang wasn't quite caught up on everything, and he glanced to see that Katara was okay as she clambered to her feet, and then they heard a soul-crushing clunk! More of whatever it was that was replacing the air flooded the room, and Katara's throat tightened so much she couldn't speak.
The doors creaked. A deep, heavy sound. Katara and Aang could only stare for a moment as it slowly opened. That soothing light beyond was gone. Only blackness remained, save a distant flicker like a star
Aang's face twisted with rage. "I trusted you!" He spun back to the sage.
But they only saw this briefest, wide-eyed horror on his face as he raced for another set of stairs. Shyu's red robes were out of sight before they could shout another word, and Aang saw Katara just standing there, stiff as a board and staring into the dark.
"It's... her..." she breathed out.
Katara crumpled to the stone floor in a heap, motionless.
Aang wanted to yell at her to run, he wanted to get her away, and he cursed himself for just standing there, frantic just to know what was happening. He didn't want to look, but he had to. It was like a pitch black tunnel, such that looking at it made him woozy, almost like he'd fall in if he got too close, like it had it's own idea of what down was, and it had more say the closer you were. He forced himself back two steps, and that pull waned slightly.
"Katara...?" he croaked, but she didn't react.
Aang couldn't look away. "That's not Roku's chamber," he whispered, and there was terror in the certainty. "Where... where is that."
The doors kept opening, and the metal thud of them hitting the wall made him jump. That all encompassing thickness in the air finally made him struggle for air too. He felt like he couldn't do anything but try to resist falling to his knees, until...
From just behind, "Aang!? KATARA!" Sokka screamed, seeing her on the ground, just as he feared but for the lack of pooling blood.
But his harsh, breathless panting caught him as he hoisted Raven the last step, and he fell, dripping sweat and catching himself on one hand. Raven slid forward off his back and landed on her feet, one faltering from the limp but she forced herself forward.
Raven's footsteps hammered, uneven but quickly smoothing out, like the sheer urgency stifled pain. "What happened?!" she demanded, looking twice with wider eyes at the open door and pitch black beyond.
"Aang!" Sokka struggled, chest heaving. "Shyu… is… psycho... killer!" he gasped, and his eyes flicked to the opening doors, and the color drained from his face. "Oh no..."
"Where is he?! He murdered the real sages!" Raven darted her gaze around, assuming Shyu must be an imposter. And she felt oddly warm and even strong as she strutted for Aang, closer to the door, like she'd never had a limp at all. "It's all some kind of trap!" And it was like she hadn't really noticed the gaping darkness until then.
"You already did it," Raven rasped.
Aang didn't look back, he just pouted and nodded. And they both jumped at a sudden sound beyond. A footstep, but... wet? Something not right, whatever it was. "What do we do?" he said, like a little kid hoping for an adult, but Raven felt like she wanted one too, honestly.
Sokka sucked in air, getting to a knee at least after the ultimate Raven hoisting. "What happened to her, what happened to Katara?" he managed to beg, "did... did he?"
Aang just quietly shook his head, giving a little shrug, still unable to look away from the darkness. "She just... fell down... I don't know." His voice getting smaller and smaller.
Raven's eyes snapped to Aang. "Why didn't Katara stop you?"
Aang looked sick. "He grabbed it! I tried to stop, I…"
The darkness beyond shifted, like it suddenly had depth and wanted to share. Another footstep, wet and echoing too long.
"What are you two just—hah, ngh—standing there for?" Still heaving, Sokka nearly fell on his face to throw his hands up in disgust. "Close the door, already?!"
Aang finally looked away, meeting Raven's gaze, like they both just realized that was even an option. They moved. Aang was on the left instantly, Raven took a powerful rooted stance after more smooth steps that even Sokka noticed as odd, even wondering why she needed him to carry her. Katara, unfortunately, was still like a puppet with cut strings, and Sokka staggered his way over to her.
"Katara!" Sokka's voice cracked. "Katara, wake up!"
His heart sank, but fluttered when he saw the slightest twitch in her eyes. Not recognition, but she was alive.
"Dang it, why?!" Aang complained as he could scarcely get the door to move, just enough to get on the other side. He planted Arzayanagi down in one hand, and held out the other to bend.
There was but a gentle breeze stirring the dust, scarcely tickling the door. Aang glared in frustration at his outstretched hand, like it had failed him. But he saw and heard Raven, at least, taking one solid step and another as she pushed the right half of the weighty metal door slowly shut.
Aang shifted his gaze to Katara, frantic. "What's happening to her?"
"I don't know," Raven snapped, and she sounded like she hated that she didn't know. "But we have to shut this right NOW!" She also hated how slowly that was going.
"I... I can't!" Aang despaired as he could barely get his side to budge, and tried again to bend but got scarcely more than the force of a sneeze.
Aang stared at his hands, horrified. "No. No no no, come on! Why now?!"
Sokka was almost breathing normal again, and flung himself at Aang's door to help. "Come on, Raven! You can get 'em both!" As his side actually started to move. There was another of those wet slapping steps, though. "It's getting closer," he squeaked, shivered, and pushed not harder, but more frantic.
Joining the things they all hated, there was a very faint, very far, a high, thin metallic scrape that raised every hair on their arms. It just kept dragging on, somewhere in there.
Raven's door was half closed, the other sadly not even a quarter, and the footsteps came so close they wanted to cut and run, but they pushed themselves as hard as the door.
They froze when they heard it, though. Even Raven's drive ceased, her shoulder's clenched. A voice slid out of the darkness, dry and rattling like it had never tasted water.
"What's wrong, Avatar…" they heard from far too close, almost amused. "Will you not look upon the face of God?
From the darkness, a perfect mask, a golden beauty beyond compare, emerged—followed by a mane of white hair, not human. Every part of her gleamed in the Fire Temple's torchlight, head to toe in gold armor, sheer grey silk draped like she was herself the shrine, but her surcoat looked every part like Lord Arza's, or that Raven wore till it burned away.
"Arzaya..." Raven quietly gulped.