Michael Dante DiMartino

The only serious decree of Kuruk’s before he’d departed from the living was that his closest companions find the next Avatar and do right by them. And so far they’d failed. Spectacularly.

it had taken her weeks to figure out that the imperious girl who acted like she was still in the junior corps of the Fire Army only yelled at the people she let inside her shell. Everyone else was scum who didn’t warrant the effort.

“What you do when no one is guiding you determines who you are,”

“The results of your training are far less important than your attitude toward training.”

About the only things Kyoshi hated more than gunk on her skin were the warped, infuriating values that older folks like Auntie Mui held around complexion.

Yun defended the world, and Rangi defended him, but as far as Kyoshi was concerned, her own sacred ground was marked by the limits where her friends stood. This is what I need to keep safe above all else.

“I violated my beliefs as an Airbender. I let my teachers down. I let my entire people down.”

She threw her arms around Kelsang and hugged him as tightly as she could.

“You’ve never let me down,”

More than once around the house she’d heard the expression that Jianzhu’s word, his friendship, was worth more than Beifong gold.

“You wanted to teach an Avatar who depended on you more than Jianzhu, and you lost your chance with Yun. That’s what I am to you. A do-over.”