Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Categories:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Exile: The Banished Prince
Stats:
Published:
2020-05-08
Updated:
2024-02-22
Words:
128,155
Chapters:
35/?
Comments:
269
Kudos:
825
Bookmarks:
186
Hits:
37,929

Book One: Wind

Summary:

Air.

Water.

Earth.

Fire.

My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days: a time of peace when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation and Air Nomads. But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

Only the Avatar mastered all four elements; only he could stop the ruthless firebenders. But when the world needed him most, he vanished. A hundred years have passed, and the Fire Nation is nearing victory in the war. Four years ago, my father and the men of my tribe journeyed to the Earth Kingdom to help fight against the Fire Nation, leaving me and my brother to look after our tribe. Some people believe that the Avatar was never reborn and that the cycle is broken, but I haven't lost hope. I still believe that, somehow, the Avatar will return to save the world.

Notes:

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

If you are reading this, you're probably wondering if I am going to update this fic someday, and yes, I am, it's just that recently I've gone through a lot in my personal life. Right now I don't feel like I am in a mental place where I can express myself all that clearly and efficiently, so I'll thank you for your patience and for not giving up on this fic.

—💋💋💖

Chapter Text

 

My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days: a time of peace when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads. But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

Only the Avatar mastered all four elements; only he could stop the ruthless firebenders...

And I haven't lost hope. I still believe that the Avatar will return and save the world.

 

Chapter 2: Chapter 一: New life

Chapter Text

Katara

Okay, Katara, just focus and…

“Sokka, look!”

Let me just… just…

It’s more than a little struggle for me to keep the bubble floating and following the track of the fish moving inside. (It’s a tad gross to see a fish swimming so up and close like this, but I caught one!) (I caught one!)

Sokka hisses at me, hunching over the waters. “Sshh! Katara, you’re going to scare it away.” He’s hunching so his starving saliva will fall in the waters instead of our canoe. “Mmmm… I can already smell it cookin’.”

“But, Sokka! I caught one!”

Damn, is this fish trying to run – I mean, swim – a marathon? I have to contort my whole body to follow it through, until I make the bubble hang over the canoe. Uh, over Sokka.

Of course he had to pick this moment to raise his spear! The dumb thing bursts my bubble!

“Hey!” I complain. The sporty fish tumbles through the air, flying above my head and back into the sea. (If I was crazy, I would say that he came back to the surface only to mock me.)

“Why is it that every time you play with magic water, I get soaked?” Sokka squeezes his gloves to take the water out of them.

“It’s not ‘magic’,” I remind him, sternly and annoyed, (but that’s basically how I always talk to my brother.) “It’s waterbending. And it is…”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘an ancient art unique to our culture’, blah, blah, blah. Look, I'm just saying,” he grabs his ponytail to wring the water out of it, “that if I had weird powers, I’d keep my weirdness to myself.”

It’s not difficult for me to decide what my next reaction should be: I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow.

“You’re calling me weird? I’m not the one who makes muscles at myself every time I see my reflection in the water.”

Bless Sokka for proving my point! I get to smirk when he turns to me after… wait for it… flexing his muscles to his reflection in the water.

My dimples deepen with my triumphant smirk, nothing can ruin this moment!

 

***

 

You are the most sexist” – I bring my hands to my head and throw them back to give my screams impulse – “immature,” – I scratch my brain for more insults that resume how angry I am – “nut brained” – Did the floe just moved? No, of course not! I’m just stomping my feet really hard! And ask me if I care! – “Ugh! I'm embarrassed to be related to you!”

“Uh… Katara?”

“Ever since Mom died,” I point to myself, “I’ve been doing all the work around camp while you’ve been off playing soldier!”

“Uh…” Sokka’s mutter is longer this time. “Katara…”

“I even wash all the clothes!” I’m the brink of hysterics! How come I’ve let that to become my life? “Have you ever smelled your dirty socks? Let me tell you: Not. Pleasant!

“Katara, settle down!”

“No, that’s it! I’m done helping you! From now on, you’re on your own!”

I stumble when a giant wave shakes the glacier against which we crashed, and I cover my ears when it hits an (equally giant) iceberg not too far away from us.

Sokka gasps, I finally turn. Just in time to witness the growth of a number of fissures snaking their way up to the tip of the high ice block. Only one reaches it. And the thick ice splits in a half through and through.

The two shares fall in opposite directions, away from one another, creating an even larger wave that flows toward us. It pushes our floe in an irregular course, moving and swaying it – and us – with such force that it shoots our bodies into the air, and then to the ice.

On the floor, Sokka shields me from any upcoming damage as the waves continue to course and hit.

They don’t take long to subside. Thankfully.

“Okay, you’ve gone from ‘weird’ to ‘freakish’.” Sokka comments, letting go of me.

I blink – (part of me still waiting for us to fall victims of a killer wave.) “You mean… I did that?”

“Yep.” I can see a proud glance and smirk on my brother’s face. “Congratulations.”

Awwwwwww!

However, before we can celebrate, little bubbles appear on the water’s surface. And just like that (like it indeed was magic) the ocean trembles once more to pull out a strangely spherical iceberg out its depths.

Sokka and I jump back in surprise.

I should be scared, I know I should be scared, but the more I look at this iceberg… it has such an unusual bluish glow. Blue, like the colors of our Tribe. It’s beautiful! I stare at it, reaching out and recoiling. Without noticing – as if I was being yanked to it – I give a hesitant step closer.

Then another.

Up to when I am close enough to feel an even more unusual and illogical heat coming from that glow. This close, I can see the ice is hollow, or at least hollow enough to contain a clearly human shape. (And some bigger mass that I can’t make out properly.)

I approach some more to see if I can take a guess at what’s really inside, but – as if on cue – the glow becomes more intense, enough to let me see that the human figure is an actual human. A boy around my brother’s age, with a strand of dark hair styled in a top knot. The only striking quality that I can discern from here is that the rest of his head is completely shaved. And there’s some weirdly colored spot where his left eye should be.

Chapter 3: Chapter 二: New meetings

Chapter Text

Katara

“Sokka,” I call out, still trying to get a clearer view of inside the iceberg. “There’s somebody in here!”

His words – (harrumph, excuse) – come out rapid-fire. “Well, they must be having a good time. We shouldn’t interrupt. Let’s go, Katara.”

And he turns to walk away. (As if there’s anywhere to go when we are in the middle of the friggin’ nowhere.)

“We have to help!” I counter.

“Katara, we don’t even know who’s in there. For all that we know, it could be some Fire Nation guy who got a fair punishment for messing with the Tribe. We have to leave. Now.”

“I won’t leave anyone in a situation like this!”

Sokka bites his lip. For a moment, he looks more anxious than what I’ve seen him in a long, long time.

“Katara,” he repeats, somewhat softer; his eyes are glassy, they reflect an improbable mixture of emotion and unfeelingness. “Let’s face cruel reality for once. This is an only-who-knows-how-cold iceberg that just emerged from the only-who-knows-how-deep ocean.” I shiver at what he is implying. “Who could possibly survive something like that?”

I wince, for my own brother’s icy tone.

And for how accurate his assumption is.

But it can’t be true, can it? I can’t be staring a dead body.

Can I?

I press my forehead to the ice, seeking for some sign of life in there. Anything will be enough. A blink, a cough, a finger twitching. Something.

My gaze focuses on the boy’s face. The ice is way too blurry for me to get his features right, the only thing I can discern even squinting my eyes until they hurt is the red spot where his left eye should be placed.

Oh, Spirits! What if Sokka’s right and this is a decomposing corpse?

My gaze falls slowly.

It barely has time to get to the floor when his eyes open – the boy’s eyes open!

They’re not normal eyes, they’re irradiating the light that comes off from the iceberg. I scream when I reel back and fall to the snow again.

“Katara!” Sokka runs to me, his eyes big with concern. “Are you okay?”

“He’s alive!” I say, standing with one push and grabbing Sokka’s club from the sheath on his back.

“What?”

“He’s alive!” I repeat, not noticing the joy in my voice and pulling my hood over my head when I climb to the ice again.

“Katara, get back here! We don’t know what that thing is!”

We know now it’s not a dead corpse, I want to say. I don’t bother; I’m happy. Excited. I’m happy to discover something, something that I have time to save, not like my mother. Or my father.

I smack the ice hard with Sokka’s club. It doesn’t break, so I smack it again. And again, and again.

Finally, the club breaks the stone-like ice. A great gust of wind escapes from the globe, it throws me and my brother away again. (I think I already lost count on how many times I’ve hit my head against the snow today.)

Fissures form and quickly twist their way to the dome’s peak until… it explodes.

The entire thing blows up shooting small stings of ice everywhere. Sokka and I cover ourselves to keep the needles from stabbing us and protecting our eyes from the blinding ray of unnaturally white light emerging from the former iceberg and towards the sky.

The earth (or more like the ocean) trembles. (Or maybe both tremble.)

There’s some force shaking everything around us, inflicting its power over all things close and on the distance. My head is swimming for all of the commotion. There are hits and explosions and waves, and too much for me to get ahold of it all. Sokka clutches me to his side to keep us from separating during this earthquake/tsunami/tornado, and I clasp his jacket until I can’t feel my blood flowing through my fingers.

It… stops.

As sudden as it began.

Only ghostly silence spreads around us while we stare at a huge crater where the iceberg used to be.

It still emanates that unusual bluish light.

Sokka is fast to grab his club from the floor and push both of us to our feet, putting me behind his back in a protective way. I continue to hold on to him, like when we were kids and I was always afraid because everything seemed bigger than me.

A figure comes out from the crater.

Sokka yells. “Stop!”

The figure looks down at us, with a shining stare. They are not human eyes either, they are spots of that blinding white beam. Its expression is not angry. (Well, somehow it is – its frowning after all – but it oddly doesn’t feel angry); it’s more like focused. Powerful and with the knowledge of that power.

The circles of light dissipate gradually. The incorporeal light turns into human skin patch by patch.

Turns out the figure is a young boy, I somewhat recognize him as the one I saw inside the ice, but slightly different. Now I can tell his top-knot is in fact some sort of ponytail, and that red spot is abraded, fleshy skin. Obviously a burn.

He falls. Faints.

I run to catch him.

 

***

 

The mysterious boy’s breathing is even while he is asleep, so he didn’t drown like Sokka supposed. His skin is slightly warmer than normal for the South Pole. Not enough for it to be much of an alarming fever though.

“Sokka, look at his clothes,” I point out.

Garnet red, wine red, and blood red attires with gold-colored embroidery. Black leather boots.

Fire Nation clothes.

Fire Nation,” Sokka whisper-growls. “I knew it!

“But look at his burn,” I observe in a much rational tone, “It doesn’t look like they have been very nice to him either.”

“What can you expect from a country of murderous, blood-thirsty freaks?”

“I didn’t know firebenders drank blood,” I sarcasm-reply.

“I don’t think they’re above that.”

I settle for an agreeing silence.

Still, could this boy have been hurt by the Fire Nation? What is he doing so far away from his home anyway?

I continue studying his face kneeled beside him. Maybe it is just really uncalled for the situation, but the only word I can think for describing him is “handsome”. His features are soft yet sculpted, his cheekbones are prominent and definite, even the one that was affected by the burn in his face. His scar is notorious, a little too… gory, especially compared to his rather pale skin, but somehow it does not interfere with his allure.

I stare at it.

“Uh… Katara?”

I yelp quietly. “Yes?”

Sokka arches an eyebrow at me. “You okay? You looked… kinda hypnotized.”

Pfft! Of course I wasn’t.” I avert his eyes.

Back to the matter at hand, is this boy really a threat? He looks around eighteen. Does the Fire Nation army enlists men from that age?

A soft roar comes from inside the crater.

“What was that?” I wonder, alert for more surprises.

“I don’t know,” Sokka says, “Stay here with that sleeping-guy, at least we know he’s too tired to fight us. I’ll check it out.”

I follow him with my eyes as he hikes and then slides down the hole.

A moment later, my ears almost break for how high-pitched he screams.

The Fire Nation boy wakes up with a start, his golden eyes shocked and wide open. “Druk!”

I shriek and fall back.

He doesn’t do so much as looking at me before rushing up and towards the inside of the former iceberg where he was trapped. I follow him.

“What the hell?” he demands, staring between Sokka and… a dragon? “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What am I doing?” Sokka retorts, pointing to himself and then to the boy like Sokka was the most normal person in the world while the boy had three eyes. (Or a pet dragon.) “What are you doing, freezing off with a dragon? How do you even freeze when you have a dragon?”

“That is none of your business!” the Fire Nation boy chews his way. “Stay away from my dragon!”

“Gladly!” Sokka glares at him.

The boy runs to the dragon while Sokka approaches me. “See, Katara? This is what we earn for helping people. Dragons and douchebags.”

The other boy turns to look at us; and if looks could kill, I’d already be burying my brother. “How did you just call me?”

“Douchebag,” my stupid, macho-men wannabe brother repeats. “A problem with that, douchebag?”

Apparently, he does have a problem with it. He stalks towards Sokka with such an air of rage and authority, and a scowl that makes him look like a dragon.

“Hey!” I step between the two of them with a painfully forced smile on my face. “I think we started off with the wrong foot. Let’s start over again. My name is Katara,” I point to myself looking at the boy straight in the eye. “And this is my brother Sokka,” I point to Sokka. “And you are…?”

His stare is so unimpressed, I have to fight really hard to not consider it offensive.

“Zuko,” he answers finally.

Sokka scoffs. “Classic douchebag name.”

I stomp on his foot.

“Nice to meet you, Zuko,” I say instead.

He turns around without a second-thought. “Right.”

I blink at his back, dumbfounded.

“Uh… Excuse me; manners,” I remind him.

He doesn’t answer.

Sokka was right, this is what I earn for helping others. “Hey!

“What?” He has the nerve to look annoyed.

“Don’t what me! I just introduced myself – after saving you from freezing inside a freaking iceberg, by the way – the least you can do is answer with some courtesy!”

“Fine.” He bows stiffly enough for it to appear respectful. “Nice to meet you. Now leave, peasants.”

My eyes widen. “Excuse me?

He rolls his eyes, looking even more annoyed. “You already said that.”

“I know that, asshole!” I give a confrontational step towards him. “And ‘douchebag’ is officially too much of a nice name for you!”

Sokka laughs. “You know what, Katara; I take it back. This turned out to be more fun than what I expected.”

“Shut up!” I say at the same time as the boy – Zuko. The asshole.

Before we have time for our banter to escalate, the dragon behind Zuko’s back makes something of crying sound and Zuko’s eyes grow with so much raw concern is hard to believe he is the same boy that was just dismissing me like I was nothing.

He rushes to the dragon’s side and examines him, petting him comfortingly. “Druk, you okay, pal?”

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask, giving another step to approach, now with mild curiosity and worry.

“It is the cold,” Zuko explains almost absently, too carried away by his apprehension to realize he’s talking to me. “It is affecting his blood flow.”

“Oh, no!” I finally get to… Druk’s side, and hesitantly place my hands over his scales. They are cool to the touch but not cold.

“Don’t touch him!” Zuko yells at me in a rage.

I pull my hands away and glare at him with such force my eyes are barely open. “Fine! But let me tell you that if I go to look for something to help him in our village, it will be for him, not you!”

“Your village,” he muses with an air of superiority that makes me want to drown him in the depths of the ocean. “Thanks for the offer, peasant, but I doubt we will ever fall low enough to depend on you.”

Urgh! “You know what? I’m done with you! I should have let you drown and then freeze off under the ocean! In fact, why don’t I make you drown and then freeze off under the ocean myself?”

“That’s my waterbender sister!” Sokka cheers.

“You are a waterbender?” Zuko wonders with just the slightest newfound appreciation in his eyes.

“What was it that you said to my brother earlier?” I pull out an innocent, thoughtful expression. “Oh. Yeah, that’s right: That’s none of your business!

Zuko bristles and scowls down at me. “You’re right, I have nothing to do with Water Tribe peasants business.”

“I swear, you call me and my brother ‘peasants’ one more time and I– ”

“You what?”

Druk cries again. Zuko’s face repeats the switch from arrogant and angry to concerned and caring.

“Go away!” he roars at us. “I don’t have time to deal with you!”

And, just as sudden as his switching of emotions, he breathes fire into his bare hands and places them over Druk. The latter gives a small comforting sound in response.

“Firebender!” Sokka exclaims. “I knew it!”

He yanks my arm to pull me behind his back and aims his club at Zuko. “What are you doing here? On a recognition mission? You were charged to burn our village for your kind to have more free real estate?”

Zuko looks even more unimpressed than what he looked with me earlier. Also, slightly confused.

“Sokka,” I say, “don’t you think that if he was here for attacking us, he would be doing so instead of using his firebending to warm up a dragon?”

“I see now who the smarter sibling is.”

“You’re not answering the questions,” Sokka pushes forward.

“What questions?” Zuko bats the club away with his hand. “The ones of a fool that doesn’t know what he is talking about?”

I put my hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “Sokka, leave him. He’s not a threat, he’s just an idiot who we should have never encountered. You were right, and I’ll be doing all your laundry for the rest of the year to compensate it to you. Now let’s go.”

He doesn’t look very convinced, but still complies after squinting his eyes at Zuko. I don’t want to wonder if he’s embarrassing himself by trying to look deductive or threatening, so I drag him by the arm out of the ice crater.

“Well, you certainly have a good eye for boys, Katara,” he says once we are out in the sunlight.

I feel like I’m getting sick.

Our canoe is floating upside down on the distance; I think I could bring it here with a small use of my bending. My hands draw the current closer and closer to us. I guess I didn’t realize I was also pulling other chunks of ice from the glaciers we smashed earlier. One in particular standing erect with a big, sharp peak hanging down in our direction.

The peak breaks above us.

Before we have time to duck and scream, a huge red and yellow fireball hits the ice and shatters it. Smaller shots continue to come, keeping the minor pieces of ice from striking us as well.

Sokka and I find Zuko standing at the upper border of the hole in his bending stance. He looks so perfectly in control he seems older and wiser than a normal eighteen-year-old boy would be.

“I see you do great on your own, too.”

His condescending remark would be infuriating… but something’s not right with him. He looks dizzy.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He stumbles forward, trying to gain a share of balance. “Yes.”

He faints once again.

Chapter 4: Chapter 三: New friends

Chapter Text

Zuko

Father… Forgive me…

Azulon…

Fire.

Pain!

I wake up with a violent gasp.

My own heavy breathing plugs my ears; I feel nauseous. My head spins and pounds, it takes me several hard blinks to focus my stare.

I am looking up to the ceiling of a raised tent, lying on my back on something soft and warm. My fingers find the strands of the artic panda and polar fox covers coating me. The place is cold despite them…

Something shuffles outside. A girl – clearly Water Tribe – peeks her head inside.

“Oh! You’re awake, finally!” She steps in and, too overconfidently for my taste, comes sit on the camp bed were I am lying. “I thought I heard something inside.”

I grab my head to fight the pounding. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” she answers. “Twice.”

Fainting?

“Wait. I remember you,” I say as the thoughts clear themselves. “You are that Water Tribe girl.”

“Katara,” she reintroduces herself. “And you are Zuko. How could I forget?” Her mouth forms a teasing smirk at that last part.

“Where are we?”

I scan the tent. It is minimalistic, at best, filled only with this bed and a few Water Tribe garnets.

“In the Southern Water Tribe.”

“The Southern Water Tribe,” I repeat, muttering. I prop my head against the pad. “Perfect.

“It is indeed perfect, ain’t it?” the girl goes on with that lively grin on her face. “Not everyone would have received such a… delightful Fire Nation boy like you.”

I frown at her. “If I am so unwelcome, then why am I here?”

“It wasn’t easy to convince the rest of the Tribe to bring you here. After my brother and I explained Gran-Gran how we found you… and how you saved us… she agreed for us to let you stay. You looked like you needed plenty rest.”

“Gran-Gran?”

Her smile broadens. “That’s how we call our grandmother.”

I grimace. “How old are you? Like seven?”

“I’m sixteen. How old are you? Cranky middle-age?”

“I am eighteen!”

“I thought so,” she says, not ironically.

A thought fires itself through my mind. A red, scaly memory.

“Wait a minute! Druk!”

I sit in one push – I would launch myself out to look for him if I could – but the brusque motion only makes my head ache harder! Ugh!

“Easy, fiery boy.” The girl – Katara; (I guess I should call her by her name to avoid unnecessary confusions) – places her hands on my shoulders.

They are the warmest thing I have felt the entire day.

She pushes me to lay back on the bed. “Druk is fine. You can thank my genius brother for that.”

“What do you mean?” I don’t remember him being the sharpest two-set tool on the shed.

“We also told the others about Druk and how he needed help. Once we brought you here, Sokka made some sort of motor with some garnets he found. He had to make plenty, actually. It was the only way for them to push Druk while he still was on that crater where we found you.” Her smile acquires a proud curve. “Sokka can be very crafty when he wants to.”

“Good for him.” I look at the ceiling again.

Katara’s stare pierces through me and I slowly drift my eyes back to her.

She looks slightly different with the hood of her coat off; a little more mature, still with rather child-like rounded cheeks. Her features are soft but pronounced, except for her nose, which is slightly wider and plainer than standard. Somehow it fits with how particularly big and separated her eyes are. Her hair is also styled in the traditional tribal hair loops on top of two long braids falling down each of her shoulders.

It is unusual, how her peculiar facial features suit so flawlessly with each other. Especially her eyes; they are broad and a bright sapphire blue color, it is brighter framed by her long, dark eyelashes.

She is looking intently at me. At my scar.

“What?”

Her head shakes to pull her out of whatever trance she was in. “Nothing. Sorry. I was just wondering… how did you get into that iceberg?”

I dart my eyes away from hers. “I… um… was on a trip. Alone, with Druk. There was… a storm. And we fell into the sea.”

“How long were you in there? There hasn’t been any storms recently.”

“I…” I dig inside my head for an answer convincing enough. “I am not sure, really. It could have been a few days.”

“Or a few weeks,” Katara concludes. “And what were you doing travelling so far away from the Fire Nation? Were you running away?”

I stiffen. “Of course not! I…”

My sentence trails off, my stomach ties itself into a tight knot. I can’t answer, not with the truth. I can’t confront the truth.

‘Coward!’

“Did you have problems with the army?”

I look at Katara again. “The army?”

“Are you deserter?” a small spark of hope lightens her eyes. “You would be kind of a hero if you were a deserter.”

“A deserter of the Fire army?”

She nods. Even when she looks rational and collected, there is an aura of emotion around her. It warms the inside of the tent.

The knot in my stomach tightens itself. “I…” I’m sorry to disappoint you. Honestly. “I am not a deserter. Sorry.”

Her eyes lose some of that striking brightness for a moment. Although she is quick to return them to me and raise her shoulders in a casual shrug, “Nothing to be sorry about. As long as you don’t wear Fire Nation military clothes, everything is fine.”

The feeling – that tension stirring me from the inside – keeps growing. I would like to ask what has made her hate the Fire Nation so much, but… there is something wrong, I can tell.

She said I could have been on that iceberg for weeks

My father, did he… He couldn’t have put his plan into action so quickly. It couldn’t have been effective so quickly. 

Fear makes my skin prickle. The sole recognition of fear brings even more shame to me.

‘Coward!’

“You okay?” Katara’s voice returns me to reality. “You look a little distressed.”

“No, no,” I sigh, and pass a hand down my face. “I am fine.”

She eyes me carefully, unconvinced. But drops the subjects: “Mm-hmm. You better come outside meet the others. The entire Tribe has been thrilled to meet you for the past two days.”

Two days?” I prop myself on one elbow. “I have been asleep for two days?”

I pull myself together to sit on the bed, the covers fall and puddle on my lap – and apparently, it turns out I am freaking shirtless!

What the – !

Katara’s blue eyes soften with appreciation as they stare at my torso. The scars on my chest and stomach are showing. I pull the covers up before she sees more of something I would rather she did not.

“Um… Where are my clothes?”

Her thump hooks in direction a pile of folded fabric on a corner.

“Over there,” she is smirking.

That is when it downs me she probably already saw more than what she should have in the first place.

Damn it!

And I am blushing!

Damn me!

Katara scoffs and heads towards the exit. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

 

***

 

Effectively, Katara is waiting for me outside once I step into the snow.

In some way, she looks contrasting and belonging to the surroundings. Her silhouette clashes against the eerily white snow because of her vibrant blue and purple parka and clothing, and her rich dark brown hair, with its lose strands blowing with the wind; and her glowing skin – I… I mean, her skin looks… healthy?

At the same time, the snow matches her weird innate aura of purity. As though all the landscape was a halo made only for her.

“Rise and shine, sunny!” She beams once I get out.

I grimace. (I correct myself: her aura is one of pure annoyance.)

The sound of laughter close to us distracts me; there is a bunch of kids playing with Druk – of all dragons – sliding down his tail and petting his back and nose. Druk’s eyes are playful like I haven’t seen them in a long time. He is even smiling! – I mean… if dragons could smile.

Relief fills my lungs and I breathe out my contentment. I would run straight to embrace him, but I don’t want to spoil his fun. Not yet.

He deserves some fun. We have gone through some difficult times.

“Hey, everyone!” Katara calls towards the kids and a few tents similar to ours forming a circular arrange. “Zuko’s awake!”

She doesn’t have to say it twice before her brother emerges from one of the tents, frowning. Specifically, in my direction.

He is followed by a stern-looking old lady and a small group of women. Only women. The kids quickly come join the adults, hugging and hiding behind their backs.

Katara turns to me once again. “Zuko, this is the entire village.” She spins to face the others. “Entire village, Zuko.”

This is your entire village?” I ask, more than baffled. “What happened to the men?”

In a blink, Katara’s brother is in my face, snarling at me. “Your kind happened to them,” he growls.

I am not appalled enough to step back – but I have to restrain myself very strongly to not send him flying with a fire blast.

Katara sighs. “Zuko, I’m sure you remember my brother, Sokka.”

“I remember a nut-brained boy with a high-pitched voice that left you to fight his battles.”

“What did you just say?” (If his intention was for that to come out as a hysterical squeal, then he succeeded admirably.)

Katara proceeds: “And this is our grandmother. The one that let us have you stay.”

Stretching my neck, I look over the dumb boy’s shoulder to meet the gaze of the stern-looking old woman. She does have a remarkable resemblance to Katara, except without the permanent cheerfulness and sass.

“You can call me Gran-Gran,” the woman declares with an acknowledging nod.

I step aside from the manic village boy and bow respectfully to her. “I appreciate you giving me asylum. Thanks.”

(Yes, I remember what I told Katara about me ever depending on them.) (I am not above recognizing when I am in times of need.) (Expressing gratitude is the most honorable thing to do.) (Roku would be proud.)

She considers me under her hard scrutiny – with just a shade of approval at my politeness – until I finally receive another consenting nod. “For what I’ve heard, I should be the one thanking you. My granddaughter told me how you saved her and her brother.”

Her brother didn’t say anything about you,” Katara completes, smirking mockingly.

“No need to thank me,” I say.

Katara’s grandmother is the only elder in the village – if such a small group can be called a village – and the only woman that is not accompanied by at least one young child. The other women are shielding who I assume are their respective sons and daughters; the children are shaking. They are fearful of me.

Katara notices. “Don’t worry,” she leans forward to look them in the eye. Her voice is impossibly kind. “Zuko’s a friend.”

Before puzzlement can settle over me after her choice of words, the kids beam and rush to my sides, fearless.

“Your clothes are pretty!” Some of them yank at my coat.

“I wanna touch your head!” Some others just jump around like they could reach my scalp that way.

The others take my hands. “Show us some fire!”

“You wanna play with us?”

“Hey, you didn’t say anything about babysitting!” I look up at Katara trying to shush the brats away.

“He will love to play with you!” she tells them.

“Yay!” The kids cheer and bounce.

Katara’s brother interferes: “But he can’t. The men of the Tribe have strategic training today.”

Training? “They are children,” I debate.

“They’re men in the works!” he counters and gathers the young boys to take them away from me.

A bizarre uneasiness flows through me. However, I merely shrug the idiot off.

“Whatever you say. I was on my way out anyway.”

Katara comes close to me with shock drawn in her features. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes,” I say, turning away already. “Thanks again for your hospitality – I mean that – but Druk and I have to go.”

“Where are you going?” (For how close her voice sounds, I would say she is following me.)

“I am not sure yet. Guess we will find out along the way. Right, pal?”

I place my hand on Druk’s giant nose. He nuzzles into the small piece of my skin.

“You ready to go?”

He blows a cloud of smoke and ashes to hit me on the face.

“I take that as a ‘maybe’.”

Katara’s brother laughs.

As much as I would like to focus on my anger at the bonehead, I am too caught up in the bizarreness of this situation. (Imagine it! Not even a peasant’s laughter can make this more embarrassing than what it is!) I rub the ashes off my face.

“I don’t think he’s in condition to travel just yet.” Katara twists to face me. “Neither do you, you should take it easy for a few more days. What about if you faint again while you’re travelling?”

“I will be fine,” I assure her.

Druk cries quietly.

“Okay, we will stay until you feel better, too,” I concede him.

His eyes light up again and he comes near to snuggle me.

Much to my surprise, he snuggles Katara next.

Awwww!” she coos, returning the embrace, “He’s so cute!”

I can testify nobody has ever referred to Druk as ‘cute’ before.

“I’m quite surprised you have a dragon with you,” Katara’s grandmother watches the scene near us, “no one has seen one in a hundred years. We thought they were extinct, until my granddaughter and grandson found you.”

“Extinct?” I repeat, not hiding my disbelief. A hundred years? “You must be mistaken, the Fire Nation is filled with dragons.”

She shrugs. “Perhaps. It would make the most sense since no foreigner has visited the Fire Nation in a hundred years either.”

I recall my thoughts from earlier. Something is wrong.

A hundred years?

“Well, enough nature and geography studies,” Katara’s brother proclaims. “Men, to the front lines!”

He marches away and his stance is dreadful and ridiculous. It is a physical offense to any military. It would seem less absurd if even the little boys walking behind him looked the slightest interested in his so-called training.

“Sokka’s right, no more talk,” his grandmother agrees strictly. “Come on, Katara, you have chores.”

She exits as well, followed by the rest of the women like loyal followers to their leader. They pass next to Katara and me on their way out, shooting distrusting and disapproving glances. Katara merely gives me one last fleeting look before following, too.

 

***

 

“Now men, it's important that you show no fear when you face a firebender.” Katara’s brother brings out his club and holds it proudly. “In the Water Tribe, we fight to the last man standing! For without courage, how can we call ourselves men?” He holds the club into the sky, clutching to it for emphasizing the word ‘men’.

What a touching speech and pose. Too bad the six-year-olds he is talking to have other things in mind:

“I gotta pee!”

The oh-so-worthy Water Tribe commander frowns. “Listen! Until your fathers return from the War, they're counting on you to be the men of this tribe, and that means no potty breaks!

He makes some sort of gestures with his arms to emphasize that as well.

“But I really gotta go!” the poor child pushes forward.

The wannabe-admiral sighs. “Okay, who else has to go?”

Every other of the boys immediately raises his hand.

Katara’s brother – who, yes, I still refuse to acknowledge by his name – smacks his own forehead with the palm of his hand. I snort.

That finally catches his attention. His head turns and he notices me watching his ‘training session’.

It is almost fascinating how the emotions go across his face so quickly, from surprise to antagonism. “You?” he says, dismissing his ‘soldiers’. “What are you doing here?”

He walks to me in what, I assume, is his attempt of threatening pose. “Spying on our war tactics for your country?”

“Oh, please!” I let sarcasm fill my voice. “As if the made-up ‘war tactic’ of a peasant with deliriums of greatness would be worthy of spreading.”

He tsk’s through his teeth, gritting them, making heated and irritated sounds. (Talking about weird.)

“What do you want?” he inquires, “I have to train the tribesmen for the War!”

“That is what I wanted to talk you about,” I say, fixing myself to the seriousness of the matter. “Can you tell me more about the war?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t you know enough about that already? I don’t care if you’re running away, I’m sure you spent enough time in the Fire Nation to learn that you guys are the ones winning.” His smile is tight at the corners. “Congrats!”

“Tell me something else,” I request. “Like… when did the war start?”

He looks at me like I went crazy. (It is with extravagant facial expressions like this that his and Katara’s familial resemblance comes to light.)

“Didn’t you go to school, Mister Hot-Shot? – No pun intended. Well… maybe a little. But the whole Hundred Year War thing? Not even the name tells you anything?”

Disturbing fright mutes me.

“Hey, what are you two talking about?”

Katara’s boots dig deeply into the snow as she walks to us.

“Our new friend here has questions about the War,” her brother tells her. “I know my knowledge on the topic is valuable, and for that reason I can’t waste it in such unimportant conversations.” He spins around. “Later.”

“Forgive him,” she apologizes once he leaves, after the two of us glare at his back, “I guess he’s just acting like that because he doesn’t like benders.”

“Right,” I say, facing her, “And you are a waterbender, aren’t you?”

“That’s right!” her brother chips in from the distance. “Katara’s a waterbender, you’re a firebender, together you can just waste time all day long!”

Not as much as you are wasting other people’s air every time you talk.

“Forgive him again,” Katara repeats.

A strand of her hair falls in front of her ear. She brushes it back.

“See, Zuko…,” she says delicately, letting my name trail off. “I was thinking. Since you’re a firebender and all… would you like to spar with me some time? You know, for training.”

“You want to spar with me?” I wonder with amused astonishment. She has no idea, does she?

“Katara won’t be sparring with anyone!” Like a very bad magic trick, her brother materializes next to her, darkening my view. He takes Katara by the wrist as if to yank her away from me. “And much less with a bloodthirsty firbender like you!”

“I can assure you I have never drank blood in my life.”

I have only felt it dripping from and over my skin.

“Cut it out, Sokka!” Katara jerks her hand away. “I can spar with whoever I want! Which it isn’t many people, because there aren’t any other benders around!”

“What do you mean, there aren’t any other benders around?” I query.

“That’s none of your business!” her brother yells.

“Technically it is my business because he’s talking to me,” Katara steps up.

Her brother groans. “Whatever, but you’re not sparring with no firebender!”

“I can do so if I want to!”

“Then I’m telling Gran-Gran!”

Fine!” Katara bites out after him when he begins walking towards the camp. It is so forceful I can hear her teeth clanking with the snap of her jaw.

She rolls her eyes. “Sorry about that. Siblings, huh?”

Against my own will, two contrary emotions form inside of me. My gaze falls and the corner of my mouth curves upwards. “Yes,” I agree.

“You have siblings?”

I had one. “A brother. Younger brother.”

“Oh… Then I guess you’re more on Sokka’s side on the ‘big brothers team’.”

“I know I never treated my younger brother like he was so much of a little kid.”

Katara laughs. “Sokka is overprotective.”

“I can see that,” I say. “What was it that you were saying about not having other benders around?”

“You’re looking at the only waterbender in the South Pole,” she spins in place to elaborate her own presentation. “But I’m not even a complete waterbender yet, I have nobody to teach me.”

“If that is the case, you should think it twice before asking to spar with a master firebender.”

She gives a step closer to me – for entering my personal space – jabbing at my chest with her index finger. For our height difference, she has to look up from under her eyelashes. (From here, I can tell they naturally curl upwards at their ends.)

“You think you’re hot stuff?”

I fight the urge to back off and pass a hand over my face to alleviate its sudden, inexplicable heat.

“Why don’t you go to the North Pole?” I offer. “To the other Water Tribe. Perhaps you can find a master there.”

“Maybe, but we haven't had contact with our sister tribe in a long time. It's not exactly ‘turn right at the second glacier’. It's on the other side of the world.”

I meditate on this. “What about if Druk and I take you there when we leave?”

Her eyes broaden. She looks at me like she just saw the first ray of light after years of obscurity. “You would do that?”

I shrug. “It is not a big deal.”

“I mean…,” she hesitates, “I don’t know. I’ve have never left home before.”

Katara!” (Her brother made good on his promise of calling their grandmother.) “I said you had chores!”

“Sorry!” she exclaims. Yet, her apologetic look is directed to me before she departs once more.

 

 

Katara

I half-run to Gran-Gran. And mutter to Sokka when I brush past him: “Tattletale!”

It is Gran-Gran the one that frowns at me. “I heard that. Don’t blame your brother instead of taking responsibility for your actions.”

“I did nothing wrong!” I argue.

“You ran away when we were doing the laundry.”

“And to talk to a firebender!” Sokka intercedes.

“What’s wrong with that?” I retort. “I’m a bender. I should learn how to hold myself in front of other benders.”

“She wants to spar with him, Gran-Gran!” he squeals. “She said so!”

What?

“I only asked him to…”

“Katara, have you gone insane?” Gran-Gran holds my arms with more concern than fury, disbelieving. “I can’t let you go near any firebending!”

Guilt makes it difficult to look at her big, tired eyes – (my eyes) –when they’re so glassy with distress.

“I’m okay, Gran-Gran.” It’s the only thing that I can muster to say. I am okay. (I’ve always been okay.) “And Zuko, he…” I take a brief glance at him over my shoulder. “He doesn’t look so bad. Maybe he would be nice…”

Sokka throws his head back in a laugh but for once there’s no humor in his expression. “Ha! You’re expecting a firebender to be nice when you’re sparring against him? Are you sure that ice peak didn’t stab you in the brain?”

I glare at him.

“Your brother is right, Katara,” Gran-Gran says, “You shouldn’t put all of your hopes in this boy.”

“But I finally found a bender to teach me!” I cry, stomping my foot into the snow.

I turn to look at Zuko once again. He’s gone.

 

 

Zuko

The villagers made another tent (one much bigger than their typical ones) for housing Druk while we remain in the Tribe. (Their speed of response and problem-solving abilities are amazing, especially considering the Southern Water Tribe’s lack of supplies.)

(I remember that my father was never eager to make business or maintain communication with the other nations.)

“Hello, friend,” I greet Druk once I enter his new shelter. He immediately comes to nuzzle me in response.

“You seem to be doing a whole lot better,” I observe, caressing him for my own comfort. I feel like I haven’t petted him in ages.

“Say, Druk… you think you would remember if we had spent a hundred years frozen... Right?”

He eyes me with the confusion a question like that merits.

“I know, it sounds crazy…”

He makes a soft roaring sound.

“I know the last thing we did was leaving the Palace after… – ” bile rises in my throat. My hand flies to my scarred eye. It has healed. Still feels fresh and foreign.

“I…” My hands shake. “Stay still for a moment.”

I climb up to his saddle, and reach for my bag – the rather small sac I took as my luggage when we first left.

Emptiness washes over me at everything I left behind. I didn’t want to take anything with me upon my departure, I didn’t want to leave anything at the Palace. There was only fear and confusion. And my hands clasping the first things my eyes registered.

I pull my sword cases out and withdraw my Dao swords. The razor-sharp edge brushes metallically with the case, producing a sound that matches the blade’s cold reflection of light.

Jumping down from the saddle, I land perfectly on my feet and show Druk the swords for him to study them with me.

“They don’t look a hundred-years rusted to me,” I conclude, proceeding to try my fighting moves. (I do feel rusty at that.)

I perform a series of spiraling and transversal cuts into the thin air in front of Druk’s attentive gaze. Mechanically and flexibly, I spin and push my swords forward, changing my position simulating attacks from different directions.

When I am done, I return the swords to the sheath on my back, taking in that metallic brush. The corner of my mouth curves pronouncedly upwards.

Whoa!

I yelp back and find Katara gaping at me from the entrance.

“That was awesome!” She’s in wonder.

“Are you stalking me or something?” I say.

“How rude! I was coming to check on Druk, thank you very much. The others say he looks better now.”

“That is what I was telling him.”

“So…” She studies me up and down. “You have your firebending and a pair swords?”

“You should tell your brother to not mess with me.” I throw the sheath to Druk’s saddle.

Katara steps inside and approaches Druk. He snuggles her once more afore my perplexed stare.

“I don’t know how Sokka was ever afraid of you, Druk,” Katara says. “You are a sweetie-pie!”

Puaj!

“Don’t feel so safe around him,” I warn, “He is difficult to handle.”

Druk nearly purrs when she starts tickling him.

“Oh, sure. I can totally see that,” she replies. “But I think I’m okay with it. We have become good friends since we found you.”

“Right.” The clicking of the word expand through the tent.

“I came to ask you again about that sparring.”

“I thought your brother forbid you from sparring.”

“Yeah, and Gran-Gran wasn’t thrilled either. I guess I must really want to practice my waterbending to disobey them both.”

“Why are they so dead-set in you not sparring with anyone? Shouldn’t they be proud that you are a bender?”

Katara’s entire face changes when the question leaves my lips, she closes off. It is an odd sight in her, the colorful optimism vanishes, leaving her hunched and wounded. Only a small ray of light returns when her hand raises to her throat.

“Can you keep a secret?”

I just nod.

As brief of a gesture that was, Katara turns around to give her back to me. She proceeds to take her parka off by her shoulders, along with her atigi and the rest of her attire underneath it. She stops before undressing completely, until her clothes furrow and hang at her mid back, exposing a fair share of her dark, bare skin.

I probably should be more impressed by the fact she is standing half-naked from her waist up in front of me, but the only thing I can concentrate is in the massive burn that constitutes almost all of her back. Red against brown; thick, crooked trails of abraded skin creep their way up to her shoulders like marks of claws. The wound was unmistakably done by fire.

The image of a fist-sized fire gust forms before my eyes. Vividly. It is burning.

It is coming closer.

“What – ” I gulp. Stumble back, escaping from the fire. The heat against my eyelashes – “What happened to you?”

“The Fire Nation raids happened to me,” she starts re-accommodating her clothes. “My mother was killed in one of them when I was little. The firebender that did it burned me when I ran away to get help.”

This isn’t happening, I think. This isn’t happening.

I can’t breathe; I can’t see.

I didn’t leave, I didn’t allow this to happen. I didn’t… I don’t belong to that – I’m not that! I didn’t leave! I didn’t run away! I didn’t quit; I didn’t! I didn’t leave! I am not –

My father, he…

‘Coward!’ – The fire!

“I…” Dizziness darkens my vision. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

I am falling.

“Zuko!” A pair of hands catch me by the wrists before the floor comes too close. “Are you okay?”

My eyes find Katara’s blue ones. Blue, like cool freshwater.

The ground reappears under my feet.

Chapter 5: Chapter 四: New memories

Notes:

Thank you all for your kind comments and your interest in the fic! Sorry that it took me so long to update. Man, writing in first person POV is tough! 😓

Chapter Text

Zuko

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I say (exhale.) A dense cloud of breathe comes out of my mouth. “I am fine. Sorry.”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Katara’s freezing breathe touches my lips. “Maybe it is the hunger the one that’s weakening you.”

“I am fine, Katara,” I repeat, trying to clear up the dark fog that has turned into my mind. “And… I do am really sorry for what happened to you… To your mother… and…”

“It’s a scar, Zuko,” she finishes when I trail off, “you can call it for what it is.”

I wish it was that easy.

“Right. Sorry.” I don’t know what I am apologizing for. “Well…,” I bite my lip, “now we have two more things in common.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“I lost my mother, too.”

“Really?” Her eyes grow. “Oh, no! What happened to her?”

“She… um… she left,” I finish hurriedly. “The Fire Nation, I mean. One day she was just… gone.”

“Oh, Spirits! I’m so, so sorry, Zuko!”

“It is okay.” I sigh.

Katara’s hands are still wrapped around my wrists, she is quick to withdraw them. “Sorry.”

The sudden loud silence fills the tent.

There is not much for us to do except avoid each other’s eyes and look around to nothing in particular.

Katara’s the first one to break the silence: “Can I ask… and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but…,” she looks down, “why did your mother leave without you?”

Raw sincerity turns my voice into a whisper: “I don’t know.” My fingers reach for my scar. “I think she knew there was something wrong with the Fire Nation…”

Katara’s stare remains pinned to the floor. Her hands flutter at her sides anxiously, as if desperately searching for something to hold on to. With her gaze so down, I can notice the perfect match that is the tone of blue of her parka with the one of her eyes.

“You know, I was serious about the eating,” she determines, finally. “You need to regain your strength. C’mon, it’s dinnertime anyway.”

Taking my hand, she pulls me to follow her out.

 

***

 

“It is odd to have dinnertime under broad daylight,” I muse.

The others sit in circle around a bonfire – that I put up – while Katara serves everyone their respective bowl of smoked lion-seagull meat accompanied with sea prunes. The perplexed feeling that I felt earlier comes back to me in full force. (How did I ever land in this situation? Having to eat something like this?)

Katara laughs. “We’re still on the only-sun months. You’ll get used to it.”

I want to remind her I won’t be here enough to ‘get used to it’. My throat closes before I can push the words out.

The children of the Tribe are thrilled over their break from the ‘strategic training’. (Seriously, it should be illegal to call it like that!) I am fairly glad Katara’s brother doesn’t have the opportunity to corrupt more young minds. I would be more comfortable if they didn’t celebrate by getting all over me again!

“Your head is so soft!”

“Why’ you bald?”

“I am not bald! It is shaved, there is a difference!”

The more I try to shake them off, the more they strengthen their efforts to touch my head.

“Alright, kids.” Katara comes our way. “Leave him alone. Zuko needs to eat, too.”

Miraculously, the children comply. They giggle in their way to reunite with their mothers.

“Here you go! A fresh plate of lion-seagull!”

Perfect. I went from bad to worse.

I mutter a reluctant ‘thanks’ and wolf down at the food without tasting it. Katara goes back to the bonfire to finish serving everyone.

Is she the one in charge of everything around here or what? Ever since I woke up, I have seen her sewing, doing laundry, herding the children from one place to the other, now making dinner; while everybody else – even the adults – just follows in tow. She must be exhausted. At least at the Palace there were enough servants for nobody to perform four tasks at once.

I make a face at the food. (And there was also better food at the Palace.)

“Whatsa matter, fancy?” Katara’s brother calls out. “The food isn’t spicy enough for you?”

I roll my eyes. “You know, it is rather offensive to imply all things Fire Nation have to do with heat and spice.”

“Oh, no! Did I hurt your feelings?”

I heat up my fist.

“Leave him alone, Sokka!” Katara cuts in, frowning at him. “Or else you’ll be the one without dinner today.”

“You can’t do that! Gran-Gran!”

“Your sister is right, Sokka,” their grandmother decides, “No matter what, one should always keep their manners during dinnertime.”

I smirk when his face falls.

“What the hell are you smiling for?” he barks my way.

Now I frown. (I swear, I can’t stand this guy!)

“I told you to leave him alone,” Katara says, coming to seat on the snow next to me with her own bowl of food. “You can go serve your dinner by yourself now.”

For how close we are sitting, it is hard to tell if he is glaring at her or me, but it soon doesn’t matter when he stands and stomps up to the bonfire.

“He’s an idiot,” Katara mutters.

“Agreed,” I say.

Before my shocked stare, Katara proceeds to eat her food avidly, stuffing big pieces of meat into her mouth. If it wasn’t because I witnessed her eating it, I would say the food disappeared into by itself.

“You… eat quite a lot for being a girl,” I observe.

She raises an eyebrow at me. “Uh… Thank you?” She settles her bowl down. “Aren’t you going to eat yours?”

I feel nausea just by looking at the dark, greasy cuts on my bowl. “I… um…”

“Maybe Katara could feed them to you,” her brother cuts in again, “Ain’t I right, lovebirds?”

A water tentacle slaps him on the face; he falls back on the snow. The food follows, it falls and spills over his head.

“That will teach him to not butt in where he’s not called,” Katara declares, re-gloving her hand.

I laugh. “Hahaha! Hahaha!”

“Whoa!” She turns to me, awestruck. “You laughed!”

I snap my mouth close and turn away. “No, I didn’t.”

Her smirk is audible in her voice, “You know, you’re not so much of a jerk after a while.”

“You say that because you didn’t know me before,” I mutter.

“How were you before then?”

Don’t ask that! I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“I… um… I let some people take advantage of me, and didn’t stop them from doing bad things when I should have.”

And then I ran away like a coward. Father was right after all.

He still is, I am still planning on running away from all of it. Fleeing even this place – a hideaway I am starting to consider myself lucky that I found, where no one knows me and no one can locate me – driving Druk to Agni-knows-where. But what else am I supposed to do?

What you should have done in the first place.

I pinch my nose harder; it is not that easy.

If what I am thinking is right – and I pray to Spirits it isn’t, because it doesn’t make sense at all – then this isn’t my time to make things right. I lost that chance.

“Everything alright?” I turn to Katara’s voice. “You are looking anxious again.”

“I am always anxious.”

“I’m starting to learn that,” she agrees. “But would it help you to talk a little about it? Maybe I can help.”

What is it with helping that she is so obsessed with it? She looks like a little girl who just received a new doll only for mentioning it. It is curious though, with her smiling like that – with hopeful, wide open eyes – I can see how her gaze and her skin glow under the sunlight…

“Zuko?”

I blink. “Sorry, sorry,” I say. “I was distracted.”

Katara hums, unconvinced. “Well, do you want to talk about what’s troubling you?”

“It is nothing, Katara. Really.”

“I get that maybe it’s uncomfortable for you to be out of the Fire Nation,” she reassures. “It’s difficult for us to have a Fire Nation guy in here, too; but we’re trying to adapt, okay? I’ve always tried to not hate on all of Fire Nation. Having you here is… a good compensation for keeping hope alive.”

My eyes go down. “You should hate all of the Fire Nation.”

Katara’s perplexed. “Why’d do you say that?”

I don’t answer.

Now she is horrified.

Her hand reaches for her throat again. “I didn’t tell you what happened to me for your pity, Zuko.”

Her words trigger an instinctive reaction. I lift my eyes to her and answer quickly, unnerved: “No, no, it is not pity! I just… it is difficult to learn about the things my country has done.”

“I understand.”

No, you don’t understand! I want to scream.

You shouldn’t understand! Stop being so stupidly nice and kind to me!

“Sometimes I overcome things thinking the Fire Nation hasn’t taken everything away from me,” her hand strokes her throat – the fur covering it.

“Do you see this necklace?” She pulls the fuzzy neck of her parka down. The frozen breathes snows from it. Her hand holds a bluish gray, round pendant with a Water Tribe inscription attached to a black leather choker.

“This was my mother’s,” she explains. “It is the only thing I’ve left from her after her death. But it’s still here. It’s like a part of her was still here with me, too; something that the Fire Nation can’t take away from me.”

Her palm cups the pendant, fingers curling around it, as though she was trying to hug it.

I set the bowl of food down, and clasp my hands tightly together to stop a trembling that I can already feel coming.

It is cold. I feel cold.

“I am sorry again for what happened to your mother,” I whisper, watching my breathe flow in front of me.

The loud silence wraps around us again, enclosing us together but away from the rest of the villagers. The laughs and the chatting are perceptible yet distant, not distant enough for them not to surge anger from within me.

Not anger; resentment.

Resentment at the kids for laughing and running around. Resentment at Katara’s brother with his bad jokes about meat and food. Even at the fucking snow! All of them can belong to the carefreeness and happy obliviousness that is this entire Tribe! I don’t belong here!

I don’t belong anywhere anymore.

“I wish things were like when the Avatar was alive,” Katara mutters absently.

I almost hit myself on my own face.

“The Avatar.” I look away. “Right.”

“You think he was reborn?” she presses on. “Or her, I mean. It could be a girl. A hundred years is a lot of time for someone to not be reborn.”

I cringe. “You keep saying a hundred years… Katara, is there anything around here from when the war started? Anything at all? I… I think I need to see something.”

“Mmmmm… Well, there’s the old shipwreck from when Gran-Gran was little.”

“Shipwreck?”

“A Fire Navy ship, from the first raids in the Tribe.”

“Can I see it? Where is it?”

“In a snow valley in the west,” she says. “But Zuko, it is forbidden to go there.”

“I already told you, I need to check on something.”

“You said you needed to see something.”

“What is the difference?”

“When you need to see something it’s because you’re going to look at it for the first time. When you need to check on something is because you’re going to double-check.”

I blink, staggered.

Then I smack my forehead. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that the way you freak out every time someone says the words ‘hundred’ or ‘year’ is kinda creepy,” she states matter-of-factly, looking at me with a strange expression on her face. “And as much as I would like to help you figure out whatever it is that you need to figure out, going near that ship is still forbidden.”

“Katara, I just need you to tell me where it is, I can go alone. If you tell me, I won’t ask you for anything ever again.”

“I don’t want you to get into trouble! To get us both into trouble.”

“I won’t tell anyone that you told me!”

“Zuko, ‘no’ means no. Sure you know to listen when someone warns you.”

 

***

 

“C’mon, Druk! Why don’t you want to fly?”

He grunts, twisting himself even tighter and curling his head away from me.

“What do you mean ‘you are tired’? It is not even night! See?” I make a grand gesture out of pointing to the sunny sky.

He doesn’t do so much as looking up to me.

“Fine! I will find the shipwreck by myself! And know that if I die frozen –” I point emphatically at him “– it will be your fault!”

I stomp away nudging my boots into the snow with heavy steps. Stupid dragon! I should have known he wouldn’t help me when I practically had to drag him out of his tent!

Stupid sun that doesn’t give me a proper cover despite the rest of the Tribe already being asleep!

Nothing to worry about, I have experience sneaking out. Now I just have to find out how far into the west that ship is.

“What are you doing up?”

Ah! “How come you always know where the hell I am?” I shriek at Katara.

She rubs her eyes, unbothered. “Zuko, you were stomping your feet into layers and layers of snow right in front of my tent. It wasn’t difficult to guess who could be angry enough to walk like that at bedtime.”

“Oh.” Well, what does she expect from me? It’s difficult to sneak out in dense snow! “Sorry.”

“Where are you going?” She wipes the sleepiness from her face with the palm of her hands.

“Nowhere.”

“Mmm-hmmmm,” her arms drop at her sides just as her head raises to direct me an unimpressed look. “You really are that desperate to go see that ship?”

Yes.”

“Fine, then I’ll take you.”

“Really?”

“Only if you promise to take me to the North Pole so I can learn waterbending,” she declares.

Of course she would ask that.

“Okay, I promise.”

“You really do?”

“Yes.”

“You pinky-swear?”

“What?”

“It goes like this.”

Katara pulls one arm out of the fur covers coating her and takes mine. She peels my glove off, the iciness of the wind mixed with the heat of her skin makes the tiny hairs of my entire arm stand up. She closes my fist, leaving only my pinky finger extended. Then, she tangles her own pinky finger with mine.

“There you go,” she announces, releasing me. “Now you’re obliged to make good on your promise.”

I don’t have time to be weirded out, so I just put my glove back on and mumble “Whatever.”

Katara asks me to wait for her to put on her parka and coats, and then she takes me walking to the vast horizon into the west.

“How long, exactly, will it take to get to the ship?”

She hums meditatively. “Around a day by foot.”

I choke. “What? We can’t spend an entire day walking!”

“I said ‘by foot’, Zuko.” She smirks at me, mischievously and knowingly.

 

***

 

“So, we are going to slide over some otter-penguins till we reach the ship?” I watch some of said otter penguins flounder over the ice. “Please tell me this isn’t an official means of transportation.”

Katara smiles. “No,” she concedes, “but it is fast. And fun.”

I sigh. “Okay. How do we catch the penguins though?”

Katara goes to the shoreline. Taking off her glove once more, she commands a water orb to raise from the water – with a fish inside it.

I observe as she – with more than some difficulty and twisting herself to follow the globe’s direction instead of the latter following hers – directs the bubble to float in the air until it reaches the penguins’ place, and me. Her ‘mastering’ of her own element appalls me. No wonders why she needs a teacher.

The bubble bursts, releasing the fish that I have to catch with my own hands.

The penguins tackle me to the ground as soon as I catch it.

Katara laughs. “Like that.”

 

***

 

Katara soars through the air before landing on a slope and continuing to slide downward.

“Isn’t this the most fun, Zuko?”

I put a whole lot of effort in not frowning too hard as the wind hits me on the face while we slide. “Whatever.”

I am just glad this has proven to be fast.

And I am also glad nobody from the Fire Nation is here to see me. I already humiliated myself enough the last time I was there.

Gods, if my brother, Azulon, was here, he would never shut up about this! Probably bribing the royal servants to mock me alongside him! The spoiled jerk!

The speed we take over the ice compresses it into snow; it tickles against my face. Granted that maybe sliding some penguins is not the most outrageous thing to do, but still!

“I haven’t done this since I was a kid,” Katara giggles, happily.

It is funny that she says so, because she looks exactly like a little kid. “You mean you aren’t still a kid?”

If my subtle hint offended her, she doesn’t show. She arches an eyebrow at me instead, challenging and arrogant.

Next thing I know, she drives her penguin skating from side to side through the ice for the friction to create a wave of icy cold snow that she shoots directly to my face. I can hear her laughter as she takes the lead ahead of me.

Oh, no. She didn’t.

With a small impulse, I command my penguin to slide faster and catch up with the little brat. As soon as she notices me close on her tails, she drives faster, turning over an ice tunnel. I follow. The more I try to catch up, the more she slithers, blocking my way.

Two can play that game.

Letting go of the penguin’s fins, a small blazing propulsion from my fire turns things to my favor. That’s all it takes to surf up over the ceiling.

The tunnel levels out on an open plain of ice. I jump off from the penguin.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Katara gets off her own penguin, stepping towards me with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. “You can’t use your bending on a penguin sledding race!”

I shrug. “You never settled any rules.”

She frowns harder.

Yet, her stance diminishes slowly, morphing into a pleased grin. “Well, at least I got you to have some fun.”

I splutter. “Wha… What? Of course I didn’t do it for fun.”

“Maybe not. But you were having fun.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you– ”

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” I cut her off. “Where is that ship that you told me about?”

Instead of answering, she points to somewhere over my shoulder.

Truly, there is a Fire Navy ship taking over the entire landscape, elevated and held in place by a large bulge of ice with the bow pointing towards the sky.

My stomach drops. I think the blood inside my body does so, too.

Oddly enough, the sight of the rusty steel and terracotta copper are the most familiar thing I have encountered since I woke up and found Katara next to me, at the same time it is ominously unwelcome.

The ship is dark and shadowy, worn out by the decades and nature. It resembles a rabid living beast, like it had savagely fought against everything let it be kindness or inclemency, and these ruins were the product of what it had become.

It is reminding me of the darkness I set free, one I didn’t stop.

Katara’s voice is somber next to me, “This is a very bad memory for my Tribe.”

I step closer.

“Zuko, stop! We are not supposed to get in there!”

“I already told you I need to check on something,” I increase my speed.

I am not surprised that Katara follows me; I climb up the ice holding the boat and help her get up as well. We both crawl through a hole in the hull of the ship until we reach the inside. No surprises it is even more corroded than the outside, the walls clearly haven’t been undusted in ages, the humidity bred rust and fungus all over them, and there are hamster-rats still eating away the metal.

“Ew.” Katara’s nose crinkles in disgust.

I pass a hand over the walls, rubbing the dust between my fingers.

Unexpectedly, instead of being overwhelmed by emotion, I am blank. The reactions I envisaged are there. Contained. Where; I don’t know. I don’t actually know anything. I don’t process anything as I walk across the corridors. Acquaintance drives me before I can reflect on my steps.

“It’s clear this ship is a hundred years old, huh?” Katara says. “Look at the dust.”

“It is not,” I state. “A hundred years ago we didn’t have this machinery,” I inspect some of the cables showing through holes in the floor. “The Fire Nation used to employ steam, and only steam, in its apparatus a hundred years ago.”

The knowledge and security in my voice crushes the silence in the room.

“Zuko,” Katara starts, “how long were you in that iceberg?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m starting to think it could be a hundred years.”

 I awaken from my numbness. “Me too.”

 

***

 

“This doesn’t makes any sense!” I rant, pacing around. “Do I look a hundred-eighteen years old to you?”

“Well…”

“Don’t answer that!”

“Think about it!” she pushes. “That’s the reason why you know so little about the War. The War is a century old. You don't know about it because, somehow, you were in the iceberg the whole time! It's the only explanation.”

“This isn’t happening to me.”

“I’m so sorry, Zuko. Maybe there’s a bright side to all of this.”

“Like what?”

“You have absolutely nothing to do with everything the Fire Nation has done for the past century.”

I crash my head against the wall. “Somehow, I doubt it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” I say. “Help me inspect the rest of the rooms, maybe I can get a clue about what year exactly this ship was made.”

“Are you crazy?” she shrieks. “This place could be booby-trapped!”

“Come on! I need to put the century-old pieces together!”

I run down the corridor with Katara close on my trail. Embarrassment settles over me when I trip over a thin rope over the floor.

The sound of metal clashing makes my back stiffen.

Katara and I race to the source of the sound, only to find the entrances sealed with iron bars reinforced with pins and the locks secured with tacks.

“What were you saying about booby-traps?”

The gears and engines of the shipwreck suddenly power up. The entire boat leans forward, swinging over the ice.

“Ah!” Katara and I fall back on the floor when havoc rises.

Alarms clang and the dull sound of metal crashing against metal makes my head throb. I try melting the bars under my grasp, but they resist. I stand and throw a fire shot at them. It crashes and flows across their spacing into the air.

“They are fire proof!” I observe.

“How are we gonna escape then?”

The ship keeps shifting erratically; I can hear the ice succumbing under the commotion, shattering and crumbling down like a very, very violent cascade. With each piece gone, the ship sinks deeper, and there is no chance this thing can float in the condition it is!

Katara attempts to regain her balance holding on to the wall. She crashes against a control panel that bombs due to the impact.

“Katara, watch out!”

I yank her away to the opposite wall, shielding her from the explosion. We both cough heavily for the smoke and the smell of oil and chemicals.

“We have to get out of here!” I say.

I take a sharp slice of metal from the floor and use it to force the locks open. (This is the part when I am thankful for accompanying Azulon to spy on our father’s meetings, I learned lock-picking.)

The metallic wedge cuts my palms but I manage to open the gate. Taking Katara’s hand with my non-bleeding one, I pull her out.

“Hold on tight!” I command her.

She puts her arms around my neck when I grab her close by her waist and jump off the border of the ship. We skate down the ice until reaching the floor. A few flares shot from the ship to the sky, tinting it bright red.

“We have to go tell the Tribe.”

 

***

 

The villagers are all awake when we get back. All of them staring concerned and wondering to the red spots coloring the clouds.

The children are the first to receive us, “Yay! Katara and Zuko are back!”

They gather around us, asking excited questions. Where did we go, what were we doing; for once, I am not all too annoyed by their presence. But the adults are furious and offended by mine.

“I knew it!” Katara’s brother proclaims stepping ahead, leading the crowd of enraged stares. He points accusingly at me. “You signaled the Fire Navy with that flare! You're leading them straight to us, aren't you?”

Katara puts herself between him and me. “I was with Zuko and he didn't do anything! It was an accident!”

“The ship in the west was booby-trapped,” I explain.

Katara’s grandmother is taken aback. “Katara, you shouldn't have gone on that ship! Now we could all be in danger!”

I put a hand on Katara’s shoulder. “Don’t blame Katara. I brought her there. It was my fault.”

Aha!” Her brother yanks her away from me. “Don’t touch my sister, you traitor!” He pushes the children away too. “Warriors, away from the enemy. The foreigner is banished from our village.”

Katara escapes from behind his back to put herself as a human shield between him and me. “Sokka, you’re making a mistake!”

“No!” he emphasizes, “I’m keeping my promise to Dad. I’m protecting you from threats like him!”

“Zuko is not our enemy!”

Ignoring her, her brother barks at me. “Get out of our village! Now!

Katara turns to their grandmother, restless and with pleading eyes. “Gran-Gran, don’t let Sokka do this!”

“Katara, you knew going to that ship was forbidden. Sokka is right, I think it is best if the firebender leaves.”

“Fine! Then I’m banished too!” She spins to me, her eyes boiling seas of anger. She drags me away by my hand. “Let’s go find Druk, Zuko! We are leaving!”

“Where do you think you're going?” her brother demands.

“To find a waterbender!” she retorts without even looking at him. “Zuko is taking me to the North Pole!”

I bite my lip. “Katara, I did not mean for you to…”

She stops in her tracks only to glare at me. “You promised!”

“Katara!” her brother calls out. “Would you really choose him over your tribe? Your own family?”

Katara’s anger does not vanishes just for looking at him, the villagers and the children; but it mixes with longing and sadness in equal measures. Only surpassed by hurt.

I glide my hand out of her grip. “Katara, I do not want to come between you and your family.”

A blink cuts her staring, like I woke her up from a dream. Her eyes are troubled when she looks at me. However, not nearly as pained as when she looks at her brother and tribe.

“Wait, so… you are leaving the South Pole?” she questions. “This is goodbye?”

“I appreciate you helping me sort some things out.” I bow to her. “Thank you.”

“Where will you go?”

“I already told you, I will find out along the way.” I turn my head. “I should go gather my things and take Druk.”

I start walking away. I should have known this would be how my stay here would end.

Katara’s brother doesn’t miss the opportunity to mock me one last time. “Yeah, go take your overgrown reptile, fire boy!”

A loud wail resounds. One of the Tribe’s young girls halts my steps holding me back by my hand. Her face is a mess of tears. “Zuko, don’t go! I’ll miss you!”

Katara is the one to come pick her up. Her own eyes are big, shiny and glassy.

“Goodbye,” I say.

 

***

 

“Come on, Druk! Help me out on this! I already had enough trouble on this day of hell!”

He still refuses to fly! He actually made us both walk to get out of the Southern Water Tribe! And now he simply doesn’t want to do anything but curl into himself and try get back to the Tribe!

I just have had it with him! “What is wrong with you today?”

He cries and stands to get back in the direction we just came. I block his way, “Look, I know you really liked her, but…”

He eyes me curiously. Half inquisitively, half knowingly.

“What?” Bewildering realization hits me. “You think I liked her, too?”

He grunts, affirmatively.

I turn away. “You are insane.”

A strange noise comes from the waters into the distance.

Mounting Druk, I jump to a big ice chunk with a view to the sea. The first thing I catch glance of is an unmistakable Fire Nation ship – a much different one than the ones I know, but with the country’s distinctive emblem – sailing towards an all too familiar location.

“Oh, no!”

Chapter 6: Chapter 五: New enemies

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sokka

Katara’s being a dramatic brat over losing her boyfriend! (Like we don’t have worse things to worry about!)

Whatever! Our dad didn’t make me promise to keep her feelings unhurt, (or to play matchmaker.)

He made me promise that I would keep her and my Tribe safe, and that’s exactly what I’m doing! (No matter how much of an ungrateful, firebender-chasing pain Katara can be.) I apply my ceremonial war paint carefully under my eyes, I never thought there would be a day when I had to put it on with the rest of the tribesmen gone, but here we are. And I’m not backing down.

The candle in my tent announces the change of winds, it means a large ship has just arrived.

Stepping outside, I ready myself to break some Fire Nation necks!

 

Zuko

Druk and I get to the village fairly easy. This time the non-flying was a strategic advantage, we don’t need whoever is coming to the Tribe to notice us here.

I jump off from Druk’s saddle and order him to hide on the snow hills while I go warn the rest. There is not enough time for me to come close, the ground begins to quake after a loud, cracking noise.

It is not difficult to guess the ship is breaking through the land. The tremor quiets the villager’s cries only the slightest; they are wild and fearful. The all-smiley children are no longer laughing but sobbing.

The ground begins to split.

The humungous bow of the ship appears through the fog and frosty wind. It surpasses the entire village, the entire piece of land where it is settled.

“Sokka!”

I recognize Katara’s voice, but she can’t warn her brother fast enough before the ship breaks the ice wall shielding the village. Her brother – who was moronically standing over it – falls down and crashes face to the ground.

I hiss. (His ego must have been the most damaged one.)

The commotion dies down bit by bit once the ship comes to a halt after incrusting itself in the Southern Water Tribe.

I hide myself behind a hill, watching.

The bow of the ship opens and rasps forward in a burst of steam, forming a walkway. Three figures first appear cloaked in the mist. When the vapor dissipates, a middle-aged man emerges from it, with the Fire Nation’s typical top-knot and wearing what I suppose is the improved version of the Fire Nation’s military uniform. It is hard to discern much of his face from where I am standing – and with his ridiculous sideburns masking all of his profile. His eyes are vicious and glistening with some kind of hunger as he looks at the villagers.

He descends from the ship accompanied by two guards, followed by some others, not enough for them to be a float but enough to overpower the Tribe’s defenses.

And speaking about said ‘defenses’, Katara’s brother stands up wailing a battle cry and charges at the men.

The one leading the guards merely kicks the club to his left and, without even resting his leg on the ground, kicks the guy over to his right, sending him into the snow where his head becomes trapped.

They are beating his honor more than anything. (As much as I don’t like him, I surely can empathize with that.)

“I don’t think so, kid,” the Fire Nation’s – soldier? Commander? – taunts.

He addresses the rest of the Tribe brightly, beaming. His voice and his expression remind to the one of deceitful assassin ready to strike, “Greetings, villagers! Sorry to interrupt your daily schedule today, we are on a mere recognition mission. See, around three days ago we caught glance of this large ray of light not far from here, and when we distinguished a clear Fire Nation flare shot from your location today, we knew you were worth our interest.”

The villagers exchange multiple frightened looks between each other. Katara is the one to take the word, stepping in front of the others and covering them – especially her grandmother – from the man’s sight.

“We have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says. “We haven’t seen any light or flares.”

The man smiles at her, (it in fact resembles the edge of a twisted knife.) “Lying to me won’t help you, young lady.”

“I’m not lying to you,” Katara assures, standing with firmness.

The man approaches her, looming over her, “What are you hiding?”

Katara does not recoil. Her teeth grit, “Nothing.

“Katara…,” her grandmother warns.

Katara,” the man muses, as if tasting the name. It makes a disgusting shiver hit me. “An innocent name for an innocent girl.”

It is then when her brother frees himself. The club rests discarded on the snow, he takes it for charging at the man once more with another battle cry.

I just face-palm myself. (An important part of sneak attacks is to be silent at the time!)

Far from being caught with his guard down, the Fire Nation man ducks the guy’s wide swing and throws him forward.

He lands on his back on the snow, but is quickly forced to abandon his spot when the man fires a blast at him. He takes out his boomerang and tosses it. The man barely avoids the hit. The boomerang spins away until it vanishes from the sight. The Fire Nation man looks at him with contained savage anger.

One of the village boys throws a spear. “Show no fear!”

Katara’s brother handily catches the spear and charges at the man once more. The moment would be more touching and triumphant if the man didn’t break the spear into pieces with his mere forearms.

Once it is in ruins, he pulls the weapon out of the hands of the Water Tribe ‘warrior’ and pokes him in the head with the dull end. That is enough for pushing him down a third time.

The man snaps the spear in two and lets the pieces fall to the ground before the entire Tribe’s terrified eyes.

The boomerang returns just in time for catching the man without notice, it hits him hard in the back of his head. Katara’s brother catches the weapon and celebrates.

He silences once the man recovers and aims two fire daggers from his hands to him.

Katara runs to shield her brother. “Wait!” she pleas. “Don’t hurt him!”

The man smiles at her yet again, with the fire daggers still blazing. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Katara is shaking lightly, enough for it to be attributed to the cold instead of the fear she must be hiding. “He didn’t mean to do that. And we aren’t hiding anything from you. Look around, we don’t even have space to hide anything.”

“We should confirm that,” the man agrees, finally discarding the fire. He commands his officers over his shoulder, “Register everything! Tear this whole place down if necessary!”

“You can’t do that!” Katara protests. “You’ll destroy our village!”

“If you are not hiding anything, there is no reason to fear.”

“I’m not afraid of you!” Katara – brave, reckless girl that she is – declares, stepping bluntly towards him. “That’s exactly why I’m telling you: it’s not fair that you invade our homes when we have already told you we aren’t hiding anything!”

The man smirks, the hunger I saw earlier in his eyes reappears. Multiplied, almost salivating. It gives me nausea.

“Well…” he stretches, his tone low and slow. His hand a lose strand of Katara’s hair, accommodating it behind her ear with delicacy. “Maybe we could agree to a more… diplomatic arrangement.”

I launch a fire shot to push the pig away from her.

He shrieks out of surprise and reels back. Katara also startles and stumbles backwards. I run and skate over the snow, catching her before she can hit the ground.

 

 

Katara

I blink. “Zuko?”

“Is everybody alright?” He asks in the Tribe’s general direction.

“Sokka!” I say, taking myself off from his hold.

I run to him behind our backs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Oh, no. He’s moody.

I help him brush off the snow from his hair and clothes, and wash away the remnants of his war paint.

“And hi, Zuko,” he greets him next, surprising me more than anyone. “Thanks for coming.”

“Don’t mention it,” Zuko concedes.

The kids cheer. “Zuko’s back! Zuko’s back!”

Not everything is smiles and victory. The Fire Nation hog that I would really like to stab with an entire iceberg right here and now pushes the rest of the soldiers away when they come to assist him, snarling in Zuko’s direction.

“What the heck do you think you’re doing, boy?” he spits the last word as an insult.

Zuko frowns in response. “Keeping you from using an authority you don’t have over innocent people.”

“Do you even have any idea what you’re doing?” the brute demands. “What are you doing in here? Freezing yourself with lowlifes instead of supporting your nation?”

“I don’t have to support lowlifes like you.” Zuko takes his fighting stance. “Leave. Now.

“Just who do you think you are?”

Zuko glares.

Slowly – like an ice serpent changing its skin – the anger fades from the man’s face. It is replaced with astonished recognition. “Wait… I know you.”

“You do?” Zuko asks, unimpressed.

“You are the ancient Fire Nation prince. Prince Zuko.”

My eyes bug out, “Zuko?”

Prince?” Sokka is awestruck.

Zuko doesn’t turn to us, he continues holding the man’s stare with that same slightly annoyed indifference. “Great, you haved proved yourself knowledgeable in history. And who are you, Mister Low-Class-Soldier? Don’t you know you should be kneeling before me?”

The man’s sneer returns, deepening, “I am commander Zhao. The most acclaimed warrior in the Fire Nation.”

“I see standards have dropped in my absence.”

I have to cover my mouth to not giggle aloud.

The Fire Nation idiot – Zhao, I guess – looks at Zuko like some kind of old, bald, angry crocodile bear.

“And you are one to talk about standards?” he smiles so cruelly I almost shiver. “Don’t think I don’t know your story, banished prince. Your father, Fire Lord Sozin, didn’t want you to weaken his nation. Your younger brother, Azulon, took your place as the next one in the line to the throne like you never existed. You are the most shameful prince – and Avatar – the world has ever witnessed.”

I gasp, “Avatar?

Sokka is further shocked, “No. Way.

“Oh, my,” Zhao feigns surprise. “Don’t tell me you didn’t tell your little friends about your backstory.”

I can’t see Zuko’s expression, his back is to us.

Suddenly, he aims at Zhao without a second thought, pirouetting in the air for launching an attack to his head. Zhao barely skips the hit and aims two shots at Zuko’s sides.

More fluent in his moves, Zuko skips them with further easiness and lands perfectly on his feet behind Zhao’s back; his eyes are raw and fired up with bleeding wrath. The next attack hits Zhao clean on the back and tosses him forward.

Despite the pained grunt, Zhao is unharmed enough because of his armor. (Shit!)

He shoots a big blast at Zuko, but Zuko is quick to effortlessly block it with one forearm. My jaw drops at such display of power.

“Don’t just stand there!” Zhao shouts at his men. “Go for him!”

It looks like the rest of the soldiers were just as astonished as me. Shaking off the daze, they go for Zuko in a circling herd. He ducks and slides between them, escaping, while they all crash between each other.

“What a great display of talent, Prince Zuko,” Zhao observes still with that cruel smile. “Have you been practicing for the past hundred years after embarrassing your father with your weakness?”

Zuko roars, “Shut the hell up!

Zhao skips his blazing kick and then his other shot. “And yet you play the tough guy so well.”

“I told you to shut up, you freak!” Zuko goes for a cutting blow.

Zhao blocks it. “I am the freak?” He launches himself to Zuko with both his fists on literal fire. “I’m not the one with a scar on my face to mark my own dishonor!”

Going for a more physical approach, Zuko restrains him by his arms, and then kicks him straight in the chest, launching him deep into the snow.

It was the final push to throw Zhao over his limit.

Growling, he throws multiple slicing blazes towards Zuko, as if he was trying to cut him into pieces right on the spot. As much as Zuko is able to miss them, they still brush dangerously close to him. He pirouettes back getting away from them, Zhao stands up and follows, shooting more attacks in his every direction. Some of them almost (almost) hit my tribespeople.

Zuko halts.

“Wait!” he demands, raising his hands in surrender. “Listen… if I give myself in – if I let you take me back to the Fire Nation as your prisoner – then you will promise to leave this village alone?”

I screech: “No!

Zhao seems just a little less displeased than myself.

“You are really willing to give yourself in for… these?” he questions, his face in disgust.

(I mean, his face is naturally disgusting but… now it is disgustingly in disgust.)

(And I would gladly grip his throat to push out whatever vocabulary he had going there.)

Yes,” Zuko emphasizes.

Zhao purely arches an eyebrow before finishing with a shrug. “Fine. I agree.”

Zuko presses further: “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Zuko looks down, presenting his defeat. “Fine.”

No!” I launch myself forward. The Fire Nation soldiers hold me back. “Zuko, don’t do this!”

“I will be alright, Katara,” he says.

Zhao laughs darkly. “Sure you will.”

Zuko allows the rest of the soldiers to apprehend him with cuffs on his hands. (More than cuffs, they are some cases enclosing all of his hands, linked by a thick, shiny chain.) They kick his kneecaps, forcing him to kneel. It is like seeing an ancient crystal relic shattered to pieces in front of my eyes.

Tears grow weighing in them.

Zhao escalates the ship’s walkway, his metallic steps reverberate; it is almost insulting how he so carelessly disregards Zuko and his men. “Head a course for the Fire Nation. The Prince is going home.”

While still on the ground, the soldiers tug Zuko by the cuffs, dragging him over the snow and the metal. “Druk might find his way back here soon,” he tells me. “He is been thrilled to see you again.”

The tears finally spill. They are hot, burning; I cannot breathe. I have never felt powerless, not even with so little control over my bending, not even with my family broken and struggling, but now… now I am powerless.

The walkway retreats. The gates close. Zuko’s swallowed piece by piece into the blackness.

 

 

Zuko

The soldiers haul me through the ship, across the steel floors and sinister corridors. It is rather ironic that a Fire Nation ship is so dark on the inside.

The stretch of my arms is painful. So is the soreness on my wrists, and it only worsens when I try to pull them down. (Spirits, this is humiliating!)

They take me to the stern where Zhao is looking back at the Southern Water Tribe, depositing me to my knees once again. (Pain and humiliation.) (Nothing I am not used to.)

Zhao’s back is confidently turned to me, he can tell I am behind him.

There’s more of his revolting smile in his voice, “I’m sorry to not direct you straight to your quarters, Prince Zuko. But here’s a view you won’t want to miss.”

More soldiers appear, my eyes grow when I see them pushing a freaking cannon of all things! They set it up, aligning and aiming it at the Tribe.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shout.

His answer is amused: “Just a little pyrotechnics show.”

I roar, nearly pained for the stretch of my throat. My hands are about to burst inside the cuffs. “We had a deal!

Notes:

😏

Chapter 7: Chapter 六: Only darkness and half-truths

Chapter Text

Zuko

The floor of the ship is freezing and hurtful, it bites at my knees the more I fight to get out of the guards’ and the cuffs’ grasp. Zhao’s men pin me to the floor by my shoulders, for it to give the impression that I am kneeling before Zhao.

We had a deal!” I repeat, twisting and contorting in my place, trying to throw the guards off.

Zhao, personally, stands to charge the weapon. “I know. I lied.”

And this guy calls me dishonorable?

I grind my teeth. His soldiers keep coming at me in an avalanche while he settles himself in the line of the ammunitions.

Let me go!” My demand comes out grotesque by my savage screech of a voice. “If you have a problem with me, then fight me like a man!

He snorts, lighting up his fist. “You talk a lot for a reckless teenager.”

The fire ball that surrounds his fist is the exact same size as a cannon ball. In the distance, the Water Tribe is still in line of sight – enough for me to see the tents raised from here – sufficiently distant for such a blow to not damage Zhao’s precious ship. That jerk!

I heat up my hands under the firebender-proof handcuffs. The stinging of the fire peeling off the skin of my forearms hurts some more, and I hiss.

Come on, come on, come on!

 The cuffs’ bolts deform under the heat, the cases disarm themselves.

I throw myself whirling backwards in the air. With my hands no longer chained behind my back – still chained though – I can shoot a fair amount of blasts at each of Zhao’s men, sending them away.

Zhao finally considers this worthy of his attention, but I don’t wait for him to turn around and charge at him. Instead of attacking him with fire, I throw a swing at his head with my two fists. (I want to hurt him. Close. Personal.)

He ducks, and blocks my blows before I can throw him off balance. Fortunately, our fight drives him away from the cannon.

“All troops to the stern! Now!

A few soldiers are faster than the others to obey his call. I am seeing red, I combat them singlehandedly, growling at the discomfort of attacking with my hands restrained and the metal hitting and brushing the fresh burns I provoked myself. 

I kick, spin, choke some of the men with the chain of my disarmed handcuffs, then I throw them off the board. More keep coming at me. It seems like Zhao even called the concierge for this!

Coward. That is what a real coward does.

Fighting off his subordinates, I almost don’t notice Zhao returning for the cannon. I make one of his soldiers to twirl and throw the man at him, pushing both away from the weapon.

The ship fills itself with grunts, groans and cries of pain. Some screams from the men falling to the water like flies.

Now they are taking out their weapons. Good.

I go for one holding a sable. Take his arm, twist it; improperly sharpened as the sable’s blade is, it is enough to cut off my chains. I am free.

It is easier to fight a party of soldiers this way, before hurling them towards the cannon. The water splashes louder when the damn thing finally falls.

I run to the lateral border. Whistle. “Druk!”

(Great that he decides to fly now); the beating of wings reveals his arrival from the distance.

The soldiers freak. “Ah! A dragon!”

“Please don’t tell me dragons are truly extinct,” I ask to nobody in particular.

Zhao comes at me himself. (It is hard to tell at whom he is more irritated, if at me or at the incompetence of his own men.)

Druk’s silhouette shadows the ship, I jump to his saddle once he is close (and low) enough.

“Quick, to the Southern Water Tribe!” I command.

The Avatar has escaped!” Zhao growls.

(Maybe it is the anxiety, maybe it is the nerve-racking of the situation, but it seems like we approach way too slow.)

“Zuko!”

“Everybody take everything you can and get on Druk!” I say as I land him heavily on the snow. “I have to get you all out of here!”

“What happened?” Katara inquires. (Anxious, and I don’t blame her.)

“Zhao tricked me, he was going to blow you up with a cannon.”

That asshole!” Sokka curses. (Oh, great. Now I am acknowledging him by his name.)

“Call him that, but while we fly off. I don’t know if they have any other weapons in the ship.”

Amidst the panic, the villagers gather their tents and the children before climbing on Druk; Katara’s grandmother needs a little more help than the others. I command Druk to rise and fly somewhere away into the south to get away from Zhao’s reach.

“Look, everyone!” Gods, what is Sokka squealing now? “We’re flying! We’re flying!”

“Um…”

“Ignore him,” Katara says, placing herself behind my back. “He’s a little overexcited.”

“I mean – ” Sokka clears his throat “ – big deal. We’re flying.”

We all scream when Druk skips a blast of fire shot up at us.

“What – ”

Zhao’s ship is breaking through the parcel once again, shattering the ice, the snow, and the thin layer of earth underneath it all, following our course.

Katara’s grandmother gasps. “He’ll destroy the entire terrain if he keeps going!”

“Whoa!” Katara mutters. “You must have made him really angry.”

“Only because he made me angry,” I reply.

My eyes scan the enormous, disastrous ship.

“Can any of you ride Druk while I go take care of them?” I ask.

Sokka raises his hand excitedly. “I’ll do it!”

I look at Katara.

“He’s actually really good at navigation,” she assures.

I shrug. There are still not many options available.

As Sokka comes to my spot on Druk’s upper back, I move closer to his tail. “Take him closer to the ship.”

Unbelievably, Sokka does not questions my request and makes Druk fly lower.

“Keep flying until you get somewhere safe. I will be fine.”

And then, I jump.

 

***

 

I roll over the accommodation cabin’s roof. Grab the edge, swing, and enter the control room. The helmsman doesn’t have time to finish screaming before I knock him out.

“Sorry,” I say.

I break the door’s lock from the inside and take the helm. (Well, granted that I am no sailor, but…) I spin it to one side, changing the ship’s course. It tumbles me down and I think everybody else onboard, too.

Steps thunder at the other side of the door, they quickly turn into banging and pulling, and the annoying click of the door’s lock trying to open. The door crashes stridently when the soldiers tear it down.

I escape through the window.

Zhao is in the deck, he is the first to catch glance of me. “It’s the Avatar! Go get him!”

There are already soldiers behind my back on the roof as soon as the order leaves his mouth. They throw me a few firebending attacks, knowing I have little space to move in here. It is a good strategy. I miss their attacks as I can, but the space is so narrow I cannot fully escape them.

 

 

Katara

Zuko’s in trouble, the Fire Nation soldiers are like ants climbing to the roof where he is standing. There are just too many of them.

“Sokka!”

“You don’t have to say it twice, little sister!” He turns around – (we were both watching Zuko’s fight along with the rest of the Tribe) – and leads Druk to approach the ship once more.

Close as we are, I use my waterbending to raise a few currents from the sea the ship is splitting open, and hit the soldiers’ stupid faces with them.

(Forget about powerlessness! This is not the time to feel sorry for myself!)

They fall once my flows punch them, and Zuko – although he doesn’t look thrilled to see us here when he told us to run… uh, fly – has it easier fighting the rest of the men coming for him.

One of them comes from behind him.

“Zuko! Watch out!” I shout.

He turns and doesn’t even have to use his firebending to knock the idiot down.

Zhao is fuming. “You useless fools! Fucking tear down that dragon!”

He attempts to shoot us himself, but Zuko launches a fire blast before him.

“This is why I told you to leave!” (Yep, Zuko is officially a control freak.) “Hey, Zhao! If you are so angry by your own men’s performance, why don’t you come get me yourself?”

Zhao sneers. “I admit it, I underestimated you.”

He throws another firebending attack at Zuko – one great enough to oblige him to step back – and Zhao uses this chance to jump through the cabin’s windows to get to the roof. He shoots at Zuko again.

“Katara, you have to get out of here!”

Sokka is the one to answer: “I’m on that.”

 

Sokka

Ugh! Why does Katara has to be so loud about everything! She hasn’t shut up since I took Druk away from that pandemonium of a ship!

I land him on a semi-leveled spot on the snow, fairly away from that damn thing. “Everybody down!”

“Forget it, Sokka! I’m not getting down and leaving Zuko like that!” Katara simmers while the others do as told. (Typical.)

“We have to go after that ship, Sokka! Zuko saved our tribe, now we have to save him!”

“Katara, I– ”

“Why can’t you realize that he’s on our side?”

“Katara– ”

“If we don’t help him, no one will!”

“Ka– ”

“I know you don't like Zuko, but we owe him and– ”

“Katara!”

“Katara’s right, Sokka,” the kids’ pout, “What will happen to Zuko?”

“Don’t worry, kiddos!” I hook a thump to Katara. “My super waterbender sister and I are going to get him!”

Katara’s eyes go big. She perks up. “We will?”

“Totally!” I turn to the rest. “But you have to stay out of danger, that Zhao guy is a time bomb himself.”

“Then why do you two get to go?” (What is this? 20 questions?)

“Because Katara and I are different, we are trained warriors. And we are going to protect our tribe and its allies.”

I am a warrior?” Katara smirks at me. (It’s my same joke-smirk, and she knows I hate it when she steals it!)

“Honorary warrior,” I say. “Today only.”

The children cheer.

“Be very careful,” Gran-Gran warns. Her voice is grave, but soft. Kinda like the snow when you’re making snow angels.

“We will, Gran,” I say. “Okay, Katara, let’s go save your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my– !”

“Whatever!”

 

 

Zuko

Zhao charges at me with a violence I haven’t seen in a long time – but I can’t really talk about what I have or haven’t seen. I was frozen for a hundred years, I should be dead.

Would things be better if it had been that way?

The Avatar Spirit would have reborn in an Air Nomad, someone who didn’t have the ties that I have to the root of all this evil. Someone who wasn’t destined to grow the seeds of this war.

I picture my father standing in the Palace’s balcony, staring down at the troops. I remember everything: the sun getting to the terrace reflecting on his crown and eyes, the look on his face – discounting me. He never noticed I was there with him. He was too immerse in the grandiosity of the army he had created, the weapons he had amassed. All of them bowing to him, everything red from fire and blood.

Zhao’s fire shot brushes too close to my cheekbone.

Stop thinking about that! Focus on the battle!

Zhao is powerful but his technique is almost disastrous. Way too simple. Who trained him, a tigerdillo? (It would explain his distaste for shaving and his feral-like grimaces.)

Breathing fire, I go for him up close. I still want to hurt him, I want this to be a physical fight, I want to hurt the coward for what he did to me! For humiliating me! Making kneel to him!

I twist his arm so his own fire comes at his face.

He skips it and attempts to elbow me on the head; I duck.

He escapes from my front and side kicks. I can’t swing at him properly for the burns in my forearms, they are making me hiss again.

“What’s the matter, Prince Zuko? You can only handle so much wounds?”

“How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?” I launch a fire blast at him, ignoring the pain.

Then I twirl and hit him on his side, he grunts in pain. I elbow him in the face, his nose bleeds. I smirk.

“I must admit,” the blood spills on his mouth, muffling his voice, “you are quite agile for a hundred-eighteen fossil.”

“Funny, I was going to say you are quite agile for an old hog.” And one with a quite inflated ego.

Another fire gust from his part, I barely have time to skip it in time.

“Zuko!”

Up in the sky, Druk’s approaching the ship, Sokka is riding him and Katara’s waving at me.

“Watch out!”

I catch Zhao’s fist, his flame extinguishes under the bare palm of my hand. I kick him off the cabin’s rooftop.

“Take my hand!” Katara stretches her arm so low it looks like she is going to fall from the saddle.

Running to the roof’s edge, I stretch my own arm to her.

She is still too far, I can’t get to her reach. Her fingers are almost brushing mine. Just a little closer…

I scream at the fire shot to my back.

It pushes me down to the floor, it is a symphony of groans as I fall down hitting everything on my way, the wounds in my arms open some more at the crashing.

“Don’t tell me you were planning on leaving so soon.”

I hate seeing Zhao standing when I am on the ground. I hate it! I hate him!

I direct some fire currents his way with my feet; he shoots at the floor, I have to roll over. When I manage to jump to my feet, I am not fast enough to avoid all of the big and multiple attacks he is throwing me. Druk tries to come close, but Zhao charges at him.

I jump to deflect his attacks. Nobody shoots my dragon!

It’s difficult to handle all of his shots: the ones at Druk, Sokka, and Katara and those at me.

“Sokka, back off!” I shout.

Katara tries to protest: “But, Zuko– ”

The end of her phrase is inaudible over the commotion.

I give a step back, running away from Zhao’s blasts, and then some more. I almost don’t notice when I hit the edge of the ship.

Zhao takes this as a cue to attack at my head. I only manage to half-block it with my arm. The impact… Too much heat, too much...

My gaze grows unfocused. Things are turning dark.

Katara screams: “Zuko! No!”

I fall off the edge.

 

Katara

It is almost a blink.

When I open my eyes again, he’s no longer there. Like he had been a mirage all along.

 

 

Zuko

It is cold.

It is dark.

It is unknown.

I can’t tell where am I, I can’t tell if this is even a place at all. I don’t feel, not even the icy water flowing around me; I only sense darkness colder than the water.

It is enveloping me. It is swallowing me.

“Zuko!”

All sounds are drowned whispers.

“Zuko!”

I can’t hear.

“Zuko!”

Zuko.

Yes.

I respond, my eyes open. It is here; the power. It is electrocuting, it is lightning.

No, more than lightning, far more destructive. More savage. More consuming. It is stardust from a true dark star, filling me with blinding, infinite light and rebirth. It is demolishing itself for turning me into that obliteration. Into its resurgence.

They are not talking, I can’t hear them; they are only holding me. Forming a chain to reach for me, keeping me from drifting away.

I feel their grasp. Their anger and their drive. Nothing matters, only the power and us. Our lives. Our breaths.

I direct the water to twirl around me, ram me up. I don’t perceive the speed, just the sea as an extension of my body.

Our bodies.

We are one.

 

Katara

It is hard not to gasp when out of the blue – (I mean, blue water) (I mean…) (Never mind) – a giant waterspout comes up like a giant drill, far thicker and crystalline. Its spinning is almost hypnotical. What’s only more impressive is how Zuko just stands at its peak, as if he was standing on solid ground.

The water vortex throws Zhao’s ship out of course. The whirlpool itself bends down, waving like a huge tentacle to deliver Zuko on the deck.

He steps on it calmly. Ghostly. When the guards attempt to charge at him again, he commands a protective water circle around himself with a mere movement of his arms. And more than just protecting, he uses the water to attack the guards; flows of water turn into speedy jets, each of them knocks out a soldier out without a fail. (I swear that I feel my jaw hitting the floor.)

With the men all finally on the floor, Zuko gestures with his arms for the vortex to just… devour the ship.

The peak opens and expands, growing itself into a massive cavity. A mouth.

Everything happens in slow motion: the upper part of the swirl goes down, the mouth opens wide and swallows the ship whole… and seemingly Zuko with it… and then the rest of the water returns to the ocean snaking like a living serpent.

My two hands keep a gasp from escaping my mouth.

But then Zuko appears floating over what’s left of the waterspout in a giant bubble. Unharmed. Unperturbed. His figure looks like he was only observing what’s going on beneath him: the water crashing, the typhoon-like waves, Zhao’s ship sinking.

“Did you see what he just did?” I exclaim.

“Now that was some waterbending!” Sokka gawks.

Zuko’s bubble is wearing out, he falls.

I catch him when Sokka rides Druk close.

A few grunts and screams mix with the wind; looking down into the ocean, the Fire Nation soldiers are adrift but uninjured enough. Zuko’s sound asleep, breathing evenly. I lay his head on my lap. His skin is cold for the wind hitting against us. I stroke his cheek to keep him warm.

 

***

 

Zuko

What the hell? Is this truly the best treatment there is around here?

I groan and hiss some more as Katara continues passing freezing ice cubes over the burns in my arms.

“I’m sorry it hurts,” she apologizes.

“It is not the pain, is the cold,” I complain.

“Sorry. We didn’t really have many medical resources, and when we left, well… we also left some things behind.”

“I see.” Spirits, it is like stabbing hundreds of needles directly on my nerves! “You know you don’t have to treat my injuries.”

She looks at me baffled. “Are you kidding? This is the least I can do after you came back to get us. And then after you fought Zhao for keeping him away from us. For keeping him away from me when he first disembarked.”

Against my own self and the tension of the situation – (I have awful lots of questions to answer) – I grin.

Katara and Sokka brought me to the new piece of terrain where the Tribe settled after Zhao destroyed their home. When she noticed the wounds in my arms, her first instinct was to clean and numb them with water and ice for bandaging them herself. Now we are seating in an improvised tent, smaller than the ones from when I first woke out of the iceberg, while she does precisely that.

She puts the ice cube down.

“Do you feel this?” Her thumb presses against one of the open burns.

More than the faint warmth of skin to skin contact, I can’t feel a thing.

“No.”

“And this?” Her fingers flutter over the rest of my forearms.

The tact is somehow there and absent; too delicate. If I wasn’t watching her do it, I wouldn’t be able to tell she was touching me at all.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Then it’s time to bandage.”

The bleeding also stopped when the abrasions dulled; it is better that way so the bandages remain clean. Katara’s very efficient in nursing performances.

“I really have a lot to thank you for,” she says, even though she seems absorbed in her task. “You saved all our lives around four times only today. And you also saved me and Sokka when we first met you.”

I shrug. (I am not feeling self-conscious. I don’t do self-conscious. I… just…)

“It was no big deal.”

“It was a huge deal,” she assures, “it was a giant deal. Kind of like that wave you bended to sink Zhao’s ship.”

My arms are now fully wrapped in clean, white cloth; I can’t get the faint feedback of Katara’s touch any longer. Her hands withdraw. Looking at her again, her eyes are lost in thought, and also doubtful, the kind of way you look when you want to ask something without knowing how. I would like to tell her to just spill it out, but apparently she already made up her mind for the way her eyes confidently find mine.

It is then when I notice how close we are sitting in the undersized tent.

The entrance splits open. “Hey! How’s our new patient doing?”

Don’t know why, but Sokka’s dumb grin infuriates me now more than ever.

“Great,” Katara says. “He will have to wear the bandages for a few weeks, though.”

“He still had it better than Zhao.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that much,” I point out.

“That’s what he gets for messing with the Water Tribe,” Sokka smirks.

He makes himself at home inside the tent sitting between Katara and me, pushing us apart to make himself space. And staring at us with strangely inquisitive looks.

“So…” he starts, “why didn’t you tell us you were the Avatar?”

“I didn’t realize you were so eager to chat with me.”

“You could have told me,” Katara observes. Her voice is low, carrying a load of hurt.

I pass a hand down my face. “I know, I just… I was ashamed, okay?”

“Ashamed of what?”

“Of this!” I stretch my arm out like I could point to the entire world – the one that is wrecking itself because I was too weak to bear my responsibilities. “All of this, it is my fault! The Fire Nation! The war!”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself,” Sokka intercedes, “At least you’re here now.”

“And what difference does that make?”

“That the world has been waiting for the Avatar to return and stop the war,” Katara says.

I smack my forehead. “It is not that simple!”

“Nobody said it was,” Sokka remarks.

“Look, maybe this is not the time for us to discuss it,” Katara cuts in. “It’s been a long day, we should all get some rest after that chasing, and flying, and sinking things…”

“Yeah. You said it, little sis,” Sokka agrees. “Well, good night.”

And, just like that, he takes a sleeping mats from a corner of the tent and lays down on the spot.

“You are going to sleep here?” I am flabbergasted.

“In case you haven’t notice, we haven’t have time to arrange much tents, and I’m fucking exhausted after heroically rescuing you today – you’re welcome, by the way – besides, you don’t need to be in a five stars inn to get comfy.”

Katara stares at him so beyond desensitized to his crazy antics she doesn’t need to shrug them off.

She does shrug, though. “Okay.”

Taking a few covers, she unfolds and arranges them in a mat form before lying down as well. It is my turn to stare at both of them.

But, then again, what can I say? I am tired.

I lay down next to them.

 

***

 

Katara and Sokka are breathing heavily. I sit and check on their closed-eyed faces. It looks like they are far gone into sleep by now; Katara’s hair is splayed over her covers and a few ends stretch onto the snow. Reaching out, I comb them with my fingers, for her hair to fall in line of her back.

She doesn’t wake.

The snow ruffles under my weight as I exit our tent.

Druk’s sleeping outside – flying really re-fired him up enough to handle the South Pole’s cold – I stroke his nose softly. He grunts sleepily and opens one eye at me.

I always got the impression that Druk’s pupils were like massive, ragged scratches. It always felt like he embodied a part of me, the broken part. So if he was the me that was hurting, and I still could feel happiness when he was next to me, that meant that piece of me couldn’t be so bad after all, right? I couldn’t be broken beyond repair.

I press a finger to my lips.

Shhh,” I whisper. “We have to go.”

I climb to his saddle and prepare for us to leave.

“Trying to run away from us?”

Ah!” I yelp.

Katara and Sokka look up at me with matching mischievous smiles, wide-awake and Katara is combing her hair into her usual braids.

“How did you…”

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” Katara finishes tying up her hair.

“It’s kind of hard to hide a dragon’s grunting,” Sokka points.

“Where are you going?” Katara inquires.

“I think I already established I will figure it out along the way,” I say.

“Well… according to the legend, you need to first master air, then water, then earth, right?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Cool!” she grins. “Then let’s go find you a master. Druk, help me up.”

Her arms extend upwards, and Druk keenly lifts her in his nose, turning his head to deliver her on the saddle.

My eyes bug at her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going with you,” she answers like I’m being plain dense. “Or more like we are going with you. Druk, now help Sokka up.”

Druk decides to have some fun doing a little more than that. He catches Sokka out of surprise and poises him in the air on top of his nose kind of like a sea bear-dog with a ball. Sokka mumbles: “Whoa, whoa, whoa!

I turn to Katara again. “Katara, you don’t have to…”

“Are you joking?” she smirks. “We are in this together!”

“Seconded!” Sokka exclaims, still holding on to Druk’s nose to not fall down.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The strict (accusing) voice of their grandmother makes us freeze, even Druk is taken aback.

The four of us slowly look down to see her standing in the ground, frowning at us. It hardens her elderly factions.

“You almost forgot these!”

It takes me a couple of blinks to realize when her factions turn into an unexpectedly warm smile, and she is holding three sleeping bags in her arms.

Awwwwwwwwwww! Gran-Gran!” Katara jumps off from Druk and runs to embrace her.

Her grandmother returns the embrace just as warmly as her smile. Looking at them right now, at the aura their emanating, the sun pales in comparison to their brightness.

I stare intently, rather impolitely. I can’t look away. I wonder what it is like to be held like that, to be that much loved. (Truly loved.) Druk releases Sokka, and he comes join them. Their grandmother hands them the sleeping bags.

“You have a long journey ahead of you. And it’s been so long since I’ve had hope, but you brought it back to life, my little waterbender.”

Katara’s about to tear up. They hug yet again, it is almost painful to watch.

“And you, my brave warrior,” their grandmother continues, turning to Sokka, “be nice to your sister.”

She hugs Sokka. He pats her back somewhat detachedly, but smiles nevertheless. “Yeah, okay, Gran.”

Katara and Sokka rush to mount Druk again, I barely have time to blink one more time before they are already in the saddle.

“Take good care of them, young Avatar Zuko!” Mrs. Kanna waves at me as a salute.

“Oh, c’mon, Gran. We can take care of ourselves,” Sokka says confidently.

“Besides, Zuko has more important matters to take care of,” Katara intervenes.

“Maybe,” her grandmother agrees, “but you both found him for a reason. Now your destinies are intertwined with his.”

I try figure what to respond to that. “I… um…”

“Don’t worry, Gran-Gran!” Katara jumps in. “We’ll all be alright!”

“I know,” she concedes. “Now go ahead. Like I said, it’s a long journey.”

“You heard the woman, Zuko,” Sokka puts his arm a little too overconfidently on my shoulder. “Let’s go! I already want to knock some Fire Nation heads!”

“You realize I am a Fire Nation ‘head’.”

“Fire Nation heads that aren’t also Avatar’s heads. That. Happy now?”

“Let’s go, guys!” Katara spurs us.

I instruct Druk to raise and fly off.

Chapter 8: Chapter 七: Foreigner

Notes:

And Sokka (and the cabbage merchant) thought his life was difficult with Aang as the Avatar...

Chapter Text

Katara

It’s difficult to sleep on top of a dragon. It’s not impossible, but… Oh, well. Imagine you had to sleep crushed by an overweight snail sloth against a hard wall, save that the overweight snail sloth is my brother and the hard wall is Zuko’s back. (Damn, his shoulders could hold cannons!)

(Is that how he got rid of the cannon Zhao was going to shoot us with?)

There’s not enough space on Druk’s back for us to lay down and we have to hold on to each other in a row while we fly because Druk doesn’t has any leashes and we don’t want to fall off from only-Spirits-know how many feet up. So, I – stupid me – decided to sit between Sokka and Zuko. I should have hung on to Druk’s tail, I would have slept much more comfortably without Sokka’s godawful snoring next to my ear.

I push myself off from Zuko’s back as I can, blinking away the sleep; Sokka’s still snoring and drooling on my shoulder. (Geez, I’ll have to ask Zuko to burn this parka.)

He doesn’t look like he has slept at all, his back is almost unnaturally straight and his muscles are stiff.

“You should get some rest, you know,” I say. “It’s not safe for you to fly when you haven’t gotten any sleep.”

“Don’t worry about that, Katara,” he answers. “It isn’t the first time I ride Druk without destination and awake for days.”

The melancholy in his voice creeps to my insides, it’s charged with a palpable unsaid memory. I picture Zuko riding alone from the Fire Nation to the South Pole.

Banished prince.

My arms tighten their grasp around his waist as a reflex.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” I wonder. “What did Zhao mean when he called you ‘banished prince’?”

He tenses; only his spine, his shoulders were already way too squared up – had been since we left the Water Tribe.

The sun creates a halo around his figure. “That is… a long story.”

I shrug. “I have time. And we are going to be together for quite a while anyway.”

He doesn’t answer for a few long moments. It gives me time to look at the clouds surrounding us, get a little panicked at how high we are, stare at the dawn’s colors.

As beautifully as the reddish pink and clear blue are tinting the sky, it makes me shiver with uneasiness. I’m not used to see sunrise during this time of the year, it remembers me how far we are from home already.

“I guess I will tell you when the time comes,” Zuko says finally.

The halo around him intensifies the more the sun raises. It’s golden, like Zuko’s fire and eyes.

“And when will that be?” I prop my chin on his shoulder to get a look at his face.

He glances at me like I’m a sudden second head growing from his neck. “Are you always this confident with people you just meet?”

“Yep!” I admit shamelessly. “Not that I get to meet much people. The South Pole is lonely.”

“I noticed. Were you and Sokka really the only teenagers around?”

I nod.

Now he looks unsure, “Um… I know it’s none of my business, but… um… how exactly were you going to… I mean… whom were you supposed to…”

“Marry?” I finish for him, smirking upon his shocked expression.

“Well… yes.”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“What do you mean, ‘don’t care’?”

“It’s not something that has been on my mind, I was always busy taking care of the rest of the Water Tribe since my mom died and Dad left. I don’t have much time to be thinking about… that sort of things.”

About romance tales and girly stuff, that’s for the little girls in the Tribe. The ones whose dreams I guarded and encouraged so their eyes would never lose their hope.

Zuko hums meditatively, and I would like to know what he’s thinking right now. “So… if your father made an arranged marriage deal for you with, say, a Northerner, then…”

“Nope. I’m not the kind of girl to settle for a marriage without love.”

Zuko just eyes me with expression I can’t quite decipher. It’s somewhat blank and disbelieving at the same time that soft and curious.

“That is a pretty romantic idea for someone who just said she doesn’t think much about those things.”

Awwwww!” I coo. “You think I’m romantic?”

Sokka yawns. “Hey, what are you two talking about?”

Zuko and I respond at once, “Nothing!”

My brother hums warily. “So… did we already got to… Where are we going again?”

“I don’t know.” Worry tenses Zuko’s voice. “The only thing that I know is that I got to find an airbending teacher.”

Sokka stiffens, I freeze.

Zuko notices and glances at us over his shoulder. “What?”

“Uh…”

Guilt stirs at my gut – and I don’t even know why I’m feeling guilt, I haven’t done anything!

Maybe it is for not doing anything that I’m feeling so guilty; I should have told Zuko sooner. But I didn’t want to shock him more than what he already is! Can you imagine how it must feel like to wake up one day a hundred years in the future? During the ones the world set itself on literal fire, and by your own people? 

Geez, I just made this even more awkward than what it already was!

I trail off some more. “Uh…”

“Maybe you’d want to land Druk for a while,” Sokka suggests. “There’s something… we need to tell you.”

Zuko seems weirded out, but complies. He lands Druk on a solitary piece of terrain, there’s snow around but nowhere near as much as back home. Suddenly, the sight of earth alone feels foreign.

“So, what is it that you want to tell me?” Zuko asks, fluently jumping off the saddle.

Sokka and I follow much more slowly. “Uh… Do you remember how the Fire Nation and the Air Nomads got along a hundred years ago?” I query.

He shrugs. “There is not much to tell. Back then, the Fire Nation saw the Air Nomads as the weakest nation. Why?”

My stomach revolts, bile rises in my throat. The weakest nation. That only makes this all not only wicked, but twisted!

“We…”

“You want to sit for a while?” Sokka offers. His face is as pale as if he had been buried in ice. “You may need it.”

Zuko frowns. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

“Sokka’s right,” I say. “You better sit down. In fact, why don’t we all sit down?”

Zuko’s growing exasperated. He has no idea.

We all take a sit on a few big rocks, Sokka and I walk and move shakily. Weakly, like we haven’t eaten in days, yet the sole thought of food makes my nausea to increase.

“See, Zuko,” I start, half covering my mouth with my hand. “When the war first started, the Fire Nation attacked the easiest targets first. It was their challenge to the rest of the world leaders, to either surpass them or face the same destiny as their victims.”

He nods. “And?”

“You remember the Air Nomads were a pacifist nation, right?”

He nods again. The brow from his healthy eye furrows.

“See… the Fire Nation, they…”

“They attacked the Air Temples,” Sokka blurts out abruptly.

Zuko’s eyes grow. “All the Temples?”

All the Temples.”

“So, the Air Nomads had to flee the Air Temples?”

Sokka and I exchange a look.

“Zuko, they killed the Air Nomads. All of them. They are extinct.”

 

 

Zuko

I faint.

Not really, but it certainly feels like it.

My eyes are open, but I don’t see; I go blind. And rigid and slack all at once. All my limps feel sagging and unfeeling, though they remain in the same position they were just a second ago: my arms crossed over my chest, my back slightly leaned back. I don’t think I am blinking.

Fire, like the one I can twirl between my fingers like it was nothing. Like the one I can breathe out as if my lungs were naturally filled with it. I see it burning human flesh. See the people running away from it, their hands raising over the smoke. Cries. Burns.

“Zuko!”

I tremble. Katara’s forcefully shaking me from side to side.

“I am fine, I am fine.”

My hands bat hers off from my shoulders. It doesn’t feel like I’m the one that directed them; I am too disconnected, seeing too dark. I am sweating in the winter.

“You weren’t reacting,” she excuses herself.

I dig my elbows in my knees. Hide my face in my hands. Darkness and coldness, what I feel and see.

“Yeah, you kinda looked like a dead body,” Sokka agrees.

Katara and I stare blankly at him.

His jaw snaps close. “Sorry, not the time.”

His sister rolls her eyes and returns them to examine me. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“Do I look like I am okay?” I growl.

I am hunching, overpowered by no visible enemy. Of course I am not okay!

And, to make matters worse, I am sort of envious of Katara. She is so composed, or as composed one can be while talking about genocide. (For Spirit’s sake!) Her skin is somewhat ashen, but her expression is serious and her eyes are focused. Meanwhile, mine are clouded and itching with tears, and I am clutching to my stomach in an irrational move to control the sickness. I am not okay.

I am definitely not okay.

“Relax,” she strokes my shoulders. “Breathe.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“You want to talk about this?”

“No, Katara, I want to go find an airbending master!” I declare, standing up. Pacing. “Preferably, an alive one! And if we are talking about what I want, I want to go back to a hundred years ago to stop all of these madness from unleashing and to keep millions from dying!”

“To be fair, they weren’t millions,” Sokka intervenes, “Maybe just thousands.”

I glare at him but Katara’s the one to scold him: “Sokka, you’re not helping!”

“Sorry! It’s just that it is difficult to console somebody over genocide.”

She face-palms herself. “You know what? You’re expelled from this conversation! Go seat on that tree –” she points to it “ – and sharp up your boomerang or something!”

He shrugs and pulls his oh-so-trusty boomerang out. “Fine. Call me if you need more of my comforting words.”

“I doubt we will,” I grind out.

“Zuko,” Katara places her hands over my shoulders again, “don’t let the anger get the best of you.”

“What ‘best of me’?” I demand, looking her straight in the eye. “The part that ran away from his own home, or the part that let thousands –” I yell in Sokka’s way “– to die burned alive?”

“Zuko,” she repeats, emphasizing. “Breathe.”

Inhaling deeply, I do. Exhaling yellow fire through my mouth.

Katara’s blue eyes follow the fire until it dissipates, I can see its reflection on them.

When she returns them to mine, they are serener. “Listen, the Air Temples are still around. Their ruins weren’t destroyed. Maybe if we get to visit them, we will find something to help you learn airbending. There has to be some memory of the culture, like scriptures, or portraits, or…”

“Or nothing. And I will never learn airbending. And I will never become a full Avatar. Perfect.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I am being realistic.”

“You’re being pessimistic,” she remarks. “And until we get a more productive idea, we are sticking to mine,” she declares. “So c’mon. We have to look for a map that gets us to the closest Air Temple.”

“You don’t even know where the Air Temples are but you want us to travel there?”

“I still don’t hear you coming up with a better idea.”

I give her a flat look.

She lets go of my shoulders, her hands glide to take mine. “C’mon, Sokka! We are leaving again!”

Spirits, this girl is so bossy!

 

***

 

Sokka

“You guys are lucky to have me with you,” I say.

“Really?” (I ignore Katara’s eye-rolling.)

“And why would that be?” (Zuko’s question, on the other hand, is way more fun to answer.)

“As a kid, Dad used to take me to the piers to show me how to handle that scene, which included negotiating with the merchants.”

“Oh, right,” Katara says, “That’s why you came back home covered in friendship bracelets and wearing three different hats. I thought you just liked to play dress-up.”

Zuko snickers and I frown, both at her and him. “First of all, they were tribal jewelry, not ‘friendship bracelets’,” I pull out her sissy voice, “and second, the point is that I got experience with the sailors. I’ll get us a map in no time.”

“Whatever you say, Captain Boomerang,” Zuko says.

Katara laughs. “Haha! Good nickname, Zuko!”

Idiots! They don’t know how to appreciate a skilled travel guide!

I have Zuko ride us to an island at the east. From all the ones Dad took me to, it’s the closest one to our location, the Water Tribe men used to come get resources for the rest of the village. (It’s what happens when you live isolated, everything is so far away.) The trip to the island was around three days by boat, but even though flying has proven to be a faster travelling method, I would still prefer one that didn’t come with the fear to fall face to the ground. (Not that that happens to me often.)

Druk lands smoothly enough and I jump off his back before he hits the floor. “Okay, everyone, it’s better if only two of us go to the pier. In a group of three, at least one has to stay babysit our giant reptile.”

Druk grunts at me. I grunt back.

“Why can’t Druk come with us?” Zuko asks.

“Remember what Gran-Gran said,” Katara reminisces, “Dragons are believed to be extinct, walking Druk around would draw too much attention to us.”

“And I think right now the less attention we get, the better,” I conclude.

Zuko nods slowly. “Fine. So, who stays to watch over him?”

I look at Katara looking at me through the corner of my eye.

“Uh… You will,” I say.

What? Why do I have to stay behind and do nothing?”

“It’s being practical, fiery boy. Fire Nation people also call out the attention. And not the good kind.”

“Sokka’s right, Zuko,” Katara agrees. “The Fire Nation is not exactly welcome around these parts. And, since you’re the Avatar… we better keep you well-guarded as well.”

Things always go better when she agrees with me. (Which is why my life is so much of a complete chaos 99.99 percent of the time.)

Zuko frowns, (that’s pretty much everything that he does. Like, always.) “Fine. But don’t take long.”

I wave the grump goodbye as Katara and I march over to the dock.

 

Katara

The pier is crowded, Sokka and I pass unnoticed.

“You know, Sokka, I think Zuko would really appreciate it if you were nicer to him.”

He doesn’t turn to answer, “Don’t you think that if he did, he would tell me so himself?”

I would really appreciate it if you were nicer to him.”

“Why?” he demands. “Everything he does is scowl, and shout, and scowl and shout.” We continue walking through the multitude scanning it for someone with a map. “And that thing he does with the fire breathing is creepy.”

“It is not.”

“Whatever.”

Grimacing and stomping my feet, I follow his track. We have to skip the rude foreign mariners that don’t even bother to look where they walk. Normally, I would be relaxed near the water – despite so many rotting fishes in the coast as there are in here – but all the fuss around makes me feel trapped and choked, there’s only cursing and the sickening smell of liquor and fish. (Why would someone ever have those together in the same place?)

And not for nothing, but walking on the coast is the worst that could happen to your polar bear dog’s fur boots. My nose crinkles down at the muddy, wet, soon-to-be-rotten material. I’ll have to make myself some new ones.

I deserve the crash that I get for not looking where I stepped. “Oh, my! I’m so sorry!”

The sailor against whom I crashed is not very happy. “Hey! Fucking look where you – ” until he turns and sees me “ – Oh. No worries, beautiful.”

He smiles at me, his teeth are blackened and uneven.

“What are you doing around these parts?” I step back when he approaches. “This is not a place for young ladies.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m here with my brother.”

“And where’s your brother now, huh?” Another man comes to us, clearly acquaintance with the sailor that’s facing me.

They’re both quite bulky – typical hairy, chunky seamen with skin, beards and clothes soaked by water and sweat – and ogling me up and down from their height, eyes glinting darkly.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on through their minds.

My smile is so tight it hurts. (I hate forced smiles.) “If you kindly stepped out of my way, I would catch up with him.”

“And what if we don’t?”

A third man appears, flanked by another two. They have matching salivating faces. “Your brother won’t mind if we borrow you for a while,” one of them says. “Men’s code.”

I sneer at those words. The men come closer –

The water tentacle I launch at them is thin but also pure, salty seawater whipping them directly in the eye.

I run immediately after it hits. “Sokka! Sokka!”

He’s nowhere to be found with the moving horde obstructing my view. There’s not even a familiar Water Tribe parka.

Where is he?

One of the men catches me by the wrist, his face is awfully contorted with disdain but not enough to erase that perverted glow from his eyes. They are red, which contrasts with his dark teeth and bald head whitened by sweat.

“Now we see you like it rough.”

The more I try to get free, the more he squeezes his grip, up until he twists my arm. “Let me go, you creep!”

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing to my sister?”

From over my shoulder, I can see Sokka coming and charging at the idiot with his club – but the equally idiotic friends grab his arm before he can hit.

“Oh, you the brother? Pffft! And we were worried you would come find her.”

I kick back the hog restraining me, and throw my head back to hit him in the face. Even when he doesn’t let go, his pained groans are enough – for now.

“I thought your precious ‘men’s code’ said you didn’t have to worry about my brother at all,” I taunt. 

“Fuck, you’re bratty! Lucky you have hot hips.”

Sokka shrieks. “You said what?”

I know just what he said. That’s why I dig my free elbow into his throat! (Now, choking noises. That’s why I like to hear!)

When he lets go of me, I call a few currents from the shoreline to me, freeze them and shoot them like lances. Granted, they are thin, too – (I don’t know how to bend great flows yet) – but they are sufficient to throw the jerks reeling back like the cowards that they are.

“Stop!” One of them pulls out a knife, presses it to Sokka’s throat. “Or your brother gets it!”

 

 

Zuko

“I can’t believe they didn’t tell me!” I rant. “Why in the world didn’t they tell me? Aren’t you angry about that? I am angry about that! I mean, why didn’t they tell me? That my own country had exterminated another nation? Didn’t I deserve to know that? Of course I deserved to know that, I am the Fire Prince! Well… I used to be! And that is another thing that bothers me, what am I supposed to do now a hundred years in the future? How the hell do I walk around when the Fire Nation and its people are suddenly considered mass murderers? – I mean, are mass murderers! – I mean… Do you mind stop scratching your ear and listen to a word I am saying?”

I halt my pacing and stare at Druk. He just grumbles and continues scratching his ear.

“How are you so calm about this? This is kind of your problem, too.”

He groans.

“Don’t tell me I am being dramatic! Don’t you feel… lost?”

The word fits painfully right.

I let myself fall back against a large rock, thinking about everything and nothing, all at once. (Just another way to be lost: not knowing what to think.)

Suddenly I would like to be older. Adult. Wiser. To at least fit in this new era where I am. All the things and the people I used to know are gone. Even this place I am standing onto is not the same it was a hundred years ago.

I am alone.

Druk comes rub his giant nose against me. It tickles and I chuckle; yet, as comforting as it is to have a friend like him… I am still alone.

Some loud smashing and collective gasps come from the distance.

“What is going on?” I wonder out aloud.

Running up through the side of the rock, I launch myself to its peak. There is a big crowd gathered in circle at the center of the pier, observing a fight between a few sailors and... Katara.

She is shooting ice lances in direction of the five men.

I gasp. “Druk, promise me you will stay here while I come back!”

 

 

Katara

“Let him go!” I demand.

“And what if we don’t?”

“Then I’ll stab an iceberg in your eye.”

“Then I’ll cut his neck.”

“Listen, these threats are running in circles,” Sokka notes, (with a knife to his neck and all)

Placing my hands on my hips, I put up a confident posture. “I don’t know if you have realized it yet, but you’re dealing with the last waterbender from the South Pole. I would suggest you to let my brother go now.”

One of the idiots that were harassing me scoffs. “You call that waterbending? Where did you learn it, at a wading pool?”

Calm down, Katara. Don’t let them get under your skin.

I scowl despite my own thoughts.

“Looks like I hit a nerve.”

“It isn’t the only thing we were trying to hit,” another of the perverts ogles me up and down once more.

I officially just lost it! “Are you freaking kidding me?

“Katara…” Sokka pleas, the knife pressing harder against his skin.

“I’m telling you to let my brother go!”

“And we have already told you what we want,” one of them says, “I think we could make a ‘fair trade’.”

I raise my hands to invoke more water. “You. Are. Some– ”

Before I can finish, another of the brutes takes my arms from behind and pulls them down.

“Get off of me!”

“I like you.” His low tone is disgusting!

I want to puke! I want to punch something! I want to kick these idiots, choke them, tear them down until I see them bleeding!

As I can, I hit my elbow against his face, directly in the eye.

Ah!

“Don’t say we didn’t warn you, little girl,” the one holding Sokka grabs the knife tighter.

I finally rise some more water currents, ready to attack. Even if I’m not a complete waterbender, I’ll defend my brother!

It doesn’t gives me time to hit when a large fire blast cuts the man’s forearm. He howls in pain, and I stare at the knife falling to the ground followed by drops of blood.

Zuko.

He snipes some more blasts at the crew around me and Sokka, throwing them away. Their complaints and grunts resonate.

“I thought I was the one that would draw too much attention.” His sarcasm is loud and clear once he steps out from the crowd.

It is at moments like this – when he shakes the inexistent dust from his hands – that he comes out as more arrogant than angry. (I can’t decide which one of those two annoys me the most.)

One of the thugs he shot grabs another knife from his belt.

“Careful there!” I push Zuko out of the way and throw a sea wave at the crook. 

Zuko yanks me behind his back as he fires at another one of the crew. “You be careful!”

Somebody shouts: “The one that catches the firebender gets free fish!”

“Let’s better all be careful,” Sokka indicates.

The crowd avalanches towards us with improvised battle cries that nearly make my ears bleed, and the clanging of different weapons makes me gulp. Now the parcel is filled with their wet steps over the mud.

This is a disaster.

I manage to keep their hits and armaments at bay with my water tentacles; Zuko does the same with his fire.

“Don’t overwork yourself!” I scream over the commotion. “Remember that your wounds are still healing!”

He creates a fire wall to block a set of spears thrown at us. “I think that just fell second on the list of priorities!”

Sokka is striking some of the slowest bounty (uh, fish) hunters with his club. “Can you two handle this while I go look for the map?”

“Sure!”

“Take your time!”

We watch him submerge into the sea of people.

“Katara,” Zuko says. “For your own safety, you may want to step away.”

“What for?”

“Let’s just say I need some space.”

Normally, I would roll my eyes at an answer like that, but considering the situation and the implication in Zuko’s voice… I run to stand in the shoreline, where I have more access to the water.

As soon as I’m gone, Zuko goes off like a real forest fire growing the more he breathes. He jumps over the people, sniping attacks from the height and escaping before they can catch him. He mixes his firebending with physical blows, and both are so strong he tosses bulky men out of his way like they were nothing. Some of them crash against their piles of fish, or wood, or just face to the mud. (It’s a real disaster. A fun one to watch.)

Another loud crash booms when Zuko throws a guy to a cabbage stand, cabbage leaves fly everywhere.

No! My cabbages!”

Oh, poor seller!

Somebody grabs me by the arm. It’s one of the sailors that were after me before, and he has the knife they were threatening Sokka with.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, bitch!”

A dagger flies and thrusts into his shoulder.

It’s easy for me to find Zuko’s eyes in the multitude, glowing and aiming, along with his arm extended our way.

I charge at the louts coming for him behind his back. Once they are down, I take the dagger directly from the first idiot’s shoulder and run to help Zuko.

 

 

 

Sokka

A fish stand, no.

A firework stand, no.

A gardening stand – (what the hell is a gardening stand doing at a pier?) – (the catalogs have nice pictures, though) – but no.

Are there even “mapping stands”? Or at least a toll one…

I punch the two losers that run my way.

Maybe there’s a travelling agent that I can ask around here…

 

 

 

Katara

Shaping my water into a whip, I usher the savages away. Zuko and I stand back to back, trying to battle dozens of people. I wouldn’t say we’re being cornered, but we are truly running out of space to escape; and for both our heavy breathings, I would say we’re running out of energy as well.

“How did you and Sokka get into this mess?” he asks all the sudden.

“That’s…,” I look down, “kind of a long story.”

“I am assuming it has something to do with those pieces of filth that were all over you?”

I gulp. “Sort of. I’ll tell you later.”

“I have time now.”

My eyes narrow at no one in particular. “I get what you’re doing.”

“Do you?” 

“Tell you what. I’ll tell you, if you answer the ‘banished prince’ thing.”

“That is blackmail!”

“And?”

Sokka comes gliding over the mud. And by “gliding”, I mean sliding horizontally over it. (Guess someone punched him a little too hard?)

“Sorry, guys,” he unglues his face from the ground, surprisingly calm for someone talking with mud dripping into his mouth. “There aren’t any maps around.”

“It’s not your fault, big brother,” I say.

“Technically, it is,” Zuko chips in. “He is the one that brought us here.”

I elbow him on his side. He doesn’t have time to properly glare at me before he has to push some other thug away.

“Okay. Whatever. Let’s just leave! Now!

I help Sokka stand up and shake off a tad of the dirt from him. And I’m decidedly taking his hand all the way while we run, (like hell I’m going to get separated from him again!) Zuko and I use our bending to open space amongst the angry horde.

Zuko still has to apply brute force on certain people, like this loser that comes at us and he throws away over his head.

“Hey, look!” I point at the guy. “He has a map!”

Before either of them can answer, I take it from the man’s body dug into the floor.

“Wait!” Zuko says. “We can’t steal something just like that!”

Sokka takes the money bag from his belt and throws a tinkling shower of coins at the unconscious guy. “That will make up for it! Now run!”

We do.

I’ve never been happier to see a dragon in my life!

“Druk! We have to get out of here!” Zuko’s the first to hop on. “Now, now, now!

I follow and then help Sokka get up as well; we can still hear and see our persecutors coming for us running up the road we took.

Fortunately, Druk is faster. When we fly away, I breathe again.

Chapter 9: Chapter 八: Three stories

Chapter Text

Zuko

I watch Katara smile while Sokka crushes her in an embrace. (It seems more awkward than comforting, at least in my opinion.)

He rubs his face against her hair, shaking his head gravelly: “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by Katara’s thick locks. “I’m so sorry, little sister. I’ll never leave you alone again, I promise. I’ll watch over you like a tiger hawk. Like a dingo wolf to a human baby.”

Um…

Katara doesn’t get the joke either. “Uh…”

I continue treating my bandages by myself. The material got burned with the overuse of my firebending in that havoc of a pier, my injuries reopened as well – not enough for it to be worth of concern, but it’ll take some more time than planned for them to heal. The fabric glued itself to the abraded flesh, peeling it off makes me hiss.

“Zuko, stop that!” Katara pushes herself from Sokka’s hold, (not unkindly), and runs to me, alarmed. “What do you think you’re doing? You could hurt yourself more than you already are!”

I growl. “I’m fine. Why don’t you worry about your injuries?”

“I already told you it’s just a bruise,” she pulls the sleeve of her parka down. “See?”

There are five purplish spots staining her wrist. (They’re fat like sausages, I’m surprised she isn’t more pained.)

“I count five bruises.”

“Whatever,” she shakes her head. “Just let me help you change your bandages.”

I pull away when she tries to reach for me. “I already told you I am fine, Katara; you should take care of yourself. I can take care of me.”

“Would it kill you to stop being so stubborn?”

“Don’t say ‘killing’!” Sokka cringes and covers his ears. “We had enough of a traumatic experience today!”

He could say that again. “Look, the point is I can take care of myself,” I insist.

“Which is not a very good point, so I’m not taking it.”

Next thing I know, she is yanking me by the sleeves of my coat to the nearby river where Druk is resting; its cascade pours powerfully but harmonically. The water appears made of copper for the reflection of the sunset’s colors. The sky is tinted, not fire-like, only lighted up in orange and yellow, with very scarce lines of red. The entire landscape, with the forest, seems like it was taken out of a painting.

“I told you– ” Katara pulls me down to kneel next to the current. My teeth grind when she unwraps the bandages from my arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” she uses the river’s water to wash my skin covered in ashes. “You are fine, you can take care of yourself. I would like to say I got the memo… but I didn’t.”

For all her talking – and how obviously annoyed she’s at me – she does take the nursery role seriously; her touch is efficient, yet gentle as she washes my wounds, careful to not induce me too much pain. Being completely honest, I am not fully complaining. It alleviates a share of the stinging.

“Why are you so angry tonight?” she inquires observing the water fall over my skin. “I mean… more angry than usual.”

Both of her sleeves are rolled up to not wet her parka; the more I stare at the finger-shaped bruises circling her wrist, forming a clear hand, the darker they look, far more hurtful than what Katara is acting. She said some perverts groped her and that’s why she got into the fight… I should have gone with her and Sokka when they left for the pier.

I should have stopped them from going overall.

I never should have listened to Sokka and take us to that place for starters!

I pass my free hand down my face to stop the argument with myself.

“Zuko?”

My gaze darts back to Katara. “Yes. Sorry. I mean… What were you saying?”

She merely eyes with a strange expression. Her eyes look darker under the dusk’s light, with navy blue-colored spots.

“Nothing,” she answers, finally.

Perhaps I should punch myself instead, for making this whole moment unnecessarily awkward. Even while Katara remains carefully tending my wounds, she is quiet and serious as I have never seen her.

“Are you…” I start. “Are you okay?”

She glances at me indifferently. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It is just that… Sokka was really shaken back there. I thought it had to be for a reason.”

“I already told you, he’s overprotective,” her answer is curt and disregarding.

I bite my lip. “Yes, but I…”

“What are you trying to say, Zuko?”

There is nothing disregarding in the way she is looking at me now. Her eyes are composed, but their force is nearly crushing, like she could make me confess all my faults with just a share of her willpower alone.

It is a little intimidating. I nearly reel back.

“I… um…” I bite my lip once more, aiming to taste blood. “I am sorry you encountered people like… that. At the pier. I mean…”

“You mean…”

I inhale deeply. “I am sorry. For what happened. Everything. I mean, everything that happened. And it’s not that I’m pitying you now either, I–”

“And right when I thought you weren’t good at conversations.”

It is only half-serious considering how the corner of her mouth curves up.

“I am not, actually.”

She returns to her all-smiley, sassy persona. “Don’t worry, I do appreciate you trying.”

“But… you do want to talk about that?”

For a moment, she freezes. All of her movements halt, and her gaze doesn’t meet mine.

“Maybe just not right now, okay? Sokka’s right, today was eventful enough.”

I nod, taking in her hunched shoulders.

“By the way,” she says, letting go of my arms now that they are wrapped in new pieces of clean cloth, “I almost forgot to give this back to you.”

She takes something out of her belt.

“My dagger!” I smile – and that is something very uncommon for me to do.

Katara studies it before my eyes, turning the blade from side to side.

“Pretty,” she concludes, handing it to me. “I took the blood off from it.”

“Thank you.” (I mean that.) I return the dagger to the case. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost this.”

“You certainly like knifes quite a lot.”

“You just said this one is pretty.” Which is not a very accurate way to describe a knife.

“Yes, but still. Dao swords and a dagger?”

“It is better than no swords and no dagger.”

Katara laughs. I smile. (Seriously, what’s up with that tonight?)

“Well, the message in the inscription is nice,” she says as I return the blade to its case. It shines emerald green under the sunset. “‘Never give up without a fight’. That’s… inspiring.”

“Thanks. The dagger is actually from the Earth Kingdom. It was a gift from… a friend.”

“From the Earth Kingdom?”

“No, from the Fire Nation.” I twirl the case between my fingers. (A little automatically; it helps me think.) “But he used to travel a lot.”

“Must have been a fun friend.”

“He was,” I whisper, absently. “Roku was my best friend.”

Druk growls angrily.

“My second best friend,” I clarify.

He purrs back to sleep.

“He was also my firebending teacher,” I continue.

“Really?” Katara’s dazed. “He must have been some firebender; your bending is awesome!”

I shrug. “No, it is not. You didn’t see Roku’s. Or Azulon’s.”

Katara pauses for a few beats. “Firelord Azulon was your younger brother, right?”

My answer is another weak murmur: “Yes.”

We stay like this for a few more breathes, the wind carries the silence between us. I silently pray for a few more moments of sunlight. I don’t want to have this feeling in the dark.

Not yet.

“My dearest condolences,” Katara says.

My shoulders rise and fall. “Don’t worry about it. I guess I had already said goodbye to him when I left the Fire Nation.”

“Why was it that you left?”

I open my mouth to answer.

Then I see the fire come at me once more.

“It is not the time for me to tell you yet.”

Katara is surprisingly understanding. “No worries. At least you were more talkative tonight.”

“Don’t get too used to that.” I stand up and walk back to our camp.

“Oh, c’mon!” Katara teases, following me. “Don’t you know that talking is good for the soul? It’s freeing!”

“My soul is fine, thanks.”

“It could be better.”

“I like it just the way it is.”

“There’s always space for improvement!”

I roll my eyes. Ugh!

 

Katara

I lost count of how many times I have tossed and turned on my sleeping mat. (It’s not a very elegant method for falling asleep – counting how many times you turn over your bed – but one can always fall asleep from boredom.) (I learned that listening to Sokka talk me about his workout routines.)

I tried counting the stars, too, but I got lost too many times. I have never understood when people talk about counting all the stars in the sky. Or rather, I do understand it, I just know you can’t do that standing (or laying) in a single spot. (The sky is huge, I would have to walk around the world for the rest of my life in order to count all of the stars.)

Walk around the world; the idea makes me smile.

“You can’t sleep?”

My eyes drift to Zuko’s laid down silhouette next to me. I can see his eyes closed despite the too faint moonlight. His arm’s flexing under his head as a pillow.

“No, not really,” I answer. “What about you?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I… um… have some troubles for sleeping.”

I hum. “And what do you do when you can’t sleep?”

“Think.”

“Idle minds,” I say.

“What are you thinking about?”

About rotten breathes talking too close to my ear.

Dirty hands harming my arms.

Gross sweat splashing over me.

About what would have happened if I…

“Nothing,” I say.

Zuko’s silence is strangely comprehending, as if he knew what am I hiding behind that reply. I don’t know if it makes me want to curl into the safe depths of my mat, or punch him furiously. I don’t need the palpable pity coming from him. I don’t need anyone’s pity, period. I could take care of myself at the pier. I showed them! I would do so again, I can handle myself.

I… can…

Thinking it better, I would like to walk into the forest and live amongst the woods for the rest of my life and never come back. (Stay away from men and all of that.)

Without noticing, I settle for the first option, curling protectively into myself. Like Druk.

“What about you?” I wonder. “What are you thinking?”

His chest expands with a heavy breathe. His eyes open and I can see their golden color vividly. They are almost cat-like, glowing in the dark.

“Nothing.”

The air becomes heavier the more we stay awake, listening to each other’s breathing without saying anything. Darkness and silence sound horrible together!

“Is there something you’d like to talk – ”

“Do you want to talk – ”

More silence, this one cutting like knifes.

Zuko’s the first to answer this time: “No.”

“That’s what I was going to say!” I agree, making my voice bright. (Why do I bother smiling? Is not like he can see me at all.) “Well, good night!”

“Good night.”

I roll away.

 

 

Sokka

Should I tell them that they are not as subtle as they think they are?

Nah, what for? Katara has never been the one to listen to me anyway, she’d probably just sneak away and have midnight conversations with Zuko about things she’d rather not tell me about. Not that it bothers me.

Well, not much.

Yes much?

Look, I know they weren’t talking about anything, really, but… it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going through Katara’s mind.

And rightfully so; I didn’t protect her.

I hug my pillow. I’m so sorry, little sister.

I’m a terrible big brother, I should have never taken her somewhere so dangerous. I knew how things were like at that place, I should have just left her with Zuko. (How sad it is that my sister would be safer with a firebender than walking with me?)

Dad would be so disappointed at me, I let him down.

I let Katara down.

I let Mom and Gran-Gran down.

I can’t believe this, I let everyone down in just one day!

I face-palm myself. I’m so sorry, little sister.

I will never again let anything happen to you.

Chapter 10: Chapter 九: Into the shadows

Notes:

Zhao-centric chapter today!! It's my first time writing manipulative villains! I am soooooooooo excited!!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Zhao

“I can’t believe Avatar Zuko is still alive!”

Quashing an unprofessional sneer, I make my voice final. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t stay that way for long.”

“That’s a bit shooting for the moon, Commander Zhao,” Shinu’s musing is annoyingly condescending. “A hundred years in only who knows where weren’t enough to kill him. What makes you believe that you can?”

“My excellence in strategy and combat.”

Shinu hums, further haughtily. “And if what I heard from your men is true… he did not only somehow kept himself at an optimum age and physical shape, he also proved those qualities were enough to defeat you and your entire crew. Handcuffed.”

My jaw tics. Strongly.

Nonetheless, I refuse to give Shinu – or Zuko, for that matter – the satisfaction of getting so easily under my skin.

“He got free from his handcuffs,” I declare after a heavy few moments of silence, strengthened by the sound of our footsteps through the watchtower’s hallways.

Mine are steady and solid, of course, with the determination of a worthy to-be admiral. And I’m planning on using said determination and knowledge for aiming at something greater than that. Something that will make history chant my name for generations.

Zhao, the Invincible!

Zhao, the Conqueror!

It’s unnecessary for Shinu to muster his snort, his mockery comes in palpable waves from his arrogant, portly persona.

“He got free from a pair of fire-proof handcuffs by himself,” he recollects. “You realize that doesn’t help your case.”

The deeper my scowl grows, the sharper my tunnel vision becomes; settled intently ahead as if pointing at a target. That’s exactly what I need now, a target – sort of what I already have, actually. I have to focus my senses on it, ease my fists blazing themselves.

“It wasn’t like that,” I debate instead of shooting a fire gust at the mere walls, “He wasn’t alone. He had a dragon to help him escape and some Water Tribeservants to assist him. Besides, there was this moment when he acquired some strange… energy. He never – not even once – used another element other than fire during our confrontation, until he bended a monstrous ocean wave, bigger than the Fire Palace itself, and walked over it like it was his own height.”

“I would have paid for seeing that,” it’s his answer. “Isn’t it ironic? How the Fire Nation’s greatest enemy turned out to be one of its own people? A member of the royal family on top of that.”

Now it’s my turn to scoff.

“Didn’t you learn anything at school, Colonel Shinu? Prince Zuko was banished out of treachery and couldn’t even fight to maintain his own honor. He embarrassed his father in front of an entire Agni Kai chamber in one of the most disgraceful days for our nation. Given to him that in another time he was a masterful combatant, the books I read recorded him as one of the most talented firebenders in history and the ace of the Fire Nation. That only makes his downfall even more despicable. He turned his back on his country! His family, and everything it stands for! If anything, he is a dark stain in our nation’s name that must be erased before he corrupts it for good!”

The silence turns eerily astounded. The building’s walls absorb my words, fusing them with their concrete and iron.

Finally we arrive at the top floor. Shinu is the one to open the entrance to the balcony.

“Prince Lu Ten,” I greet, plastering a welcoming smile on my face as I enter the terrace. “I can’t even begin to describe how grateful and honored I am that you agreed to meet with me.”

The young man has grown quite a lot over the years. And he has advanced in his military career as swiftly – and easy – as one would expect from a member of the royal family.

His blank eyes bore into me. “Greetings, Commander Zhao.”

He spins around to look over the terrace’s railing, discounting me.

My teeth grate.

“However, I would appreciate it more if you called me Colonel Lu Ten while I’m in service,” it’s his next statement. “I wish to honor the charge and the cause given to me by my country’s armed forces.”

“As you wish.” (Not only they grate, they crush between each other.) 

It certainly is surprising the boy has reached any charge so far. He might be tall, but his physique is just a couple of pounds above slender, not enough for an appropriate soldier’s build. Though, truthfully, I waste my time giving him a second thought. He is nothing more than the shadow of his father.

“And General Iroh,” I bow to said older man once he spins from his spot at his son’s side. “Great hero of our nation.”

Retired General,” he remarks amicably.

I wouldn’t blame anyone if they didn’t believe this affable old man is in reality the most legendary firebender the country has ever seen. I’ll have to be convincing for him to join my mission.

“So, what do my son and I owe the pleasure to be invited to your harbor?”

“And more importantly,” Lu Ten finally returns his attention to me, “why the insistence for this meeting to be so furtive? In your letter, you pleaded for me to not mention my crew that I would be speaking to you personally during our passage through the harbor.”

My eye twitches. I didn’t ‘plead’!

“My apologies,” I bow to him as well. “I assure to both of you secrecy is not my way to repay my fellow soldiers camaraderie, but I’m afraid I’m in possession of rather delicate information that I considered imperative to share with you as discreetly as possible.”

“Which is?”

I look over my shoulder to Shinu guarding the door. He nods.

“The Avatar is alive,” I pronounce.

Both of their twin eyes broaden, creasing their faces into an expression a news like this merits.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The Avatar,” I repeat, making the effort to not give away my proud smirk. “I encountered him a few days ago. My crew and I were investigating some strange signs shot from a Water Village at the South Pole, it looked like the residents accepted him as one of their own.”

“An airbender?

My, don’t I hate being the deliverer of bad news.

“I’m afraid not, Colonel. I mean the ancient firebender Avatar, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.” And, just for fun, I add: “Your ancestor.”

 

***

 

“This doesn’t make any sense!”

Lu Ten’s panic would be worthy of mocking if it didn’t benefit me so much.

I take another sip of the ginseng tea I ordered for us; (General Iroh loves tea.) (Don’t believe for a second this is cheap bribing! This one is the best and most expensive tea in the Fire Nation!)

“Avatar Zuko was supposed to be deceased for years!”

“I can’t explain it either, Colonel, but it was unmistakably him. He had the left side of his face burned.”

“Oh, big deal!” Lu Ten shoots up from his seat. “A sloppy firebender with a burn scar, he certainly must be the Avatar! Heavens, I knew you were desperate for ascending, Commander Zhao, but this officially goes too far!”

My fingers clutch the cup in my hand. My eyes assess the kid over its border, “What is that supposed to mean?”

A weapon display collapses behind us.

“Eh…” Iroh stands by its side, with his teacup in hand and staring at the smashed display innocently. “My fault, entirely. But I think my son has made a rather valid observation, Commander. How can we be truly sure that the young man you spotted was the Avatar? It could be pretty much anyone.”

“I recognized him for the portraits in the history books I studied. His face is exactly the same than the day he left the Fire Nation. He’s identical to the Fire Lord.” I turn to Lu Ten. “And when he waterbended right after shooting me a couple of fire blasts, that kind of gave me an idea.”

“You have to admit your story is pretty implausible,” Lu Ten remains unconvinced, his panic has dissipate into his usual boredom. “A young man kept himself eighteen years old for over a century? Did he tell you he used some sort of magic trick for it?”

“I think the fact that he has performed so many inexplicable deeds is nothing but a proof of  his power.”

Lu Ten scoffs. “Age-bending? Seriously, Zhao?”

“Well,” Iroh mutters, “new family members are always welcome. And I guess technically the young man we’re discussing is my uncle.” He chuckles. “Haha! Such a lovely irony.”

“Be serious about this, Father.” For once Lu Ten’s scold is not directed at me. “The Avatar is the only one who can stop the Fire Nation from winning the war!”

“You know well that I no longer wish to involve myself in matters of war, son. As devoted as I am to my country and my family, I feel that my fighting days are over.”

“Don’t say that, General Iroh.” I stand up. “The reason why I chose to share this information with you first was to make a very important request. I want you, two of the strongest members of the royal family, to join my search for the Avatar.”

“My father has already expressed himself about his view on the war,” Lu Ten states. (I note the slight frown between his eyebrows.) “And…,” he eyes me curiously and warily, “what exactly you mean with ‘joining your search’, Commander?”

I grin. (Despite our differences, I can’t accuse the guy of being stupid.)

“I mean for you to work alongside me towards a shared goal: stopping the Avatar from tearing down the Fire Nation.”

“Working alongside… you?”

“Yes,” I remark.

His face is an impassive picture. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. My responsibilities are with my men.”

“I think your responsibilities are with your country as a whole.”

“I think I can tell what my responsibilities are without your help.”

Another crash.

“Oh, my! I must be getting clumsy with the age,” Iroh laments himself, although without much emotion. He takes another sip of his tea. “But I think I speak for my son and me when I say that, sadly, neither of us is interested in joining this quest of yours, Commander Zhao. Even if it is for different reasons.”

Extremely different reasons.”

Lu Ten’s murmuring would be inaudible for most. Not for me.

Setting my brain to plot, I come up with an answer that’ll give me just enough time to settle all the strings I’ll be pulling in the near future:

“I respect your decision, but I believe answering right away is not a very smart move, for circumstances can change rather easily. How long is your ship going to stay for repairing, Colonel Lu Ten?”

He’s still wary.

Not enough to tell my real intentions, though. “Tomorrow’s morning.”

“If your answer is still the same by then, I’ll leave you to continue your way. But if you change your mind for one reason or the other, just let me know and I’ll be more than happy to discuss my plans with you.”

Time to get the engines going.

 

***

 

How funny – and tragic – it is that I don’t even have to guard the dock to find Lu Ten on it?

He’s predictable like that.

“Trouble for sleeping, Colonel?” I play dumb.

His permanent indifference never leaves his expression, although it’s not distrustful.

“Just checking the progress of the repairing,” he says, “This ship is an antique royal relic.”

“One of the first models manufactured exclusively for Fire Lord Sozin,” I recall, appreciating the great boat. “It has gone through a lot.”

“That’s why it needs maintenance and updating so often.”

The moonlight reflects on the golden details of the vessel. (They’re not made in actual gold. War does not bring riches with it.)

“Have you thought about my request from earlier?” I wonder out loud.

“Not for my part. I asked my father if he wanted to remain stuck in his newfound sedentary lifestyle instead of doing something for himself.”

“It can’t be described as newfound,” I point out. “He has been stuck in it for the past five years.”

His voice is the one of a defeated man. “Yes.”

Perfect.

“I never understood your father’s departure from the military.” I make my voice shocked when I add: “And then to his birthright to the throne.”

“Me neither. One day we were ready to conquer Ba Sing Se, and the next one he just… stepped down. Quitted.”

“Perhaps he saw something you and the rest of the men didn’t, Colonel. He has a great tactical mind.”

“That’s what I used to believe. But there was truly no logical reason for us to retreat. There wasn’t any! And the outcome was the most shameful military defeat in his and my career!”

“Or perhaps he just lost his motivation,” I say. “It happens even to the greatest ones once they reach a certain age.”

“You think?”

“Of course. He probably only needs a new goal to set his eyes onto.”

Looking into the dark horizon, I remain acutely alert for Lu Ten’s responses. He hums meditatively.

“Maybe I can persuade him to join your vanity project,” he agrees.

“That would be an honor for me, but I thought you said he wasn’t interested. At all.”

“He isn’t,” he sounds defeated again.

So weak.

“It would be easier to convince him if you joined as well, Colonel. He has always had a soft spot for you.”

He barks. “I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t need to be following my father around!”

“And you won’t. He will be following you around,” I explain. “Besides, don’t take it as some family matter, take it as a favor to a superior.” My hand lands on his shoulders. “A way of helping a high rank officer out of a dark place.”

C’mon, boy. We were doing fine, don’t back down now.

“Well…” his gaze is lost into thin air; a few lose pieces of hair escape from his topknot, pushed by the wind, “I must recognize you have a point and the Avatar is the greatest threat for our nation as of now.”

“Probably as of ever,” I note.

 “Yes,” he replies. Then surrenders with a sigh. “Alright, Commander, I accept to join your quest.”

“That’s wonderful!” I exclaim, rejoicing in my victory. “Now we just have to communicate it to your father – ”

“That’s not necessary.”

We both make an abrupt spin to find General Iroh no more than a couple of feet away from us.

The old man looks just like any other: approachable, plump, smiley; the only remarkable trait in his physical appearance alone is the royal headpiece tying the topknot in his head.

His smile turns contrite. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that despite my chunky complexion I have very light feet.” A chuckle.

“No need to apologize, General,” I say. “But may I ask how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear a fair share of the conversation.” He steps closer. “And I would be delighted to join your quest as well, if it’s in the company of my son.”

Perfect,” I taste the word, the triumph in it. My name will be a synonym in the future.

Zhao, the Magnificent!

Zhao, the Invincible!

Zhao, the Conqueror!

 

 

Iroh

Zhao is a despicable man indeed.

His smirk is pronounced and smug. The worst part is that it doesn’t even reach his eyes; they’re just dark, glassy and unfeeling. Hungry. The class of inhuman hunger that craves an undeserving power that will not compensate the blackness of his heart.

Manipulating my own son for making me fall into his trap?

Even more so, believing I wouldn’t notice? That he can outsmart age and wisdom?

And he has the nerve to stand in front of us believing nobody can see his true colors, and the ignorance to further believe he’s the one that hides them so well it’s impossible the rightful punishment will reach him.

But you know what, Zhao? You’re going to get it!

Notes:

Lu Ten, open your eyes, man! He's manipulating you!!

Chapter 11: Chapter 十: Evil angel, loyal demon

Notes:

Hey, everyone!! I already said on Tumblr that I intended to update earlier today, but... the energy was cut off until now. I would like to complain a little about it, but oh, well! Venezuelans can't be picky.

Anyways, here's the new chapter, I'm super excited for you to read it, and I think that after this I'll take some time to update another one of my fics while I write a fair amount of chapters for this one, so you won't have to wait so long for so little content each time. Love you!! 😘😘

Edit: I performed some changes to the names of the deities because I remembered how some East Asian fans expressed their contempt over the names in the Avatar World being only random words in Japanese and Chinese. I’m sorry, it was insensitive and unoriginal from my part to do the same thing and I apologize if I hurt/insulted any fan with it.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Katara

List of marvels I’ve seen on this trip:

Number one: The current Avatar feeding his dragon making train noises.

The cat-salmon he’s holding looks heavy, but Zuko manages to wave it in front of Druk’s eyes and nose. Druk’s stare is intent on his soon-to-be breakfast, greedy and expectant as it follows the fish’s moves. He is salivating – really; it’s soaking Zuko’s boots. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

“And here comes the Ba Sing Se Express, arriving to its next stop!”

His voice is raspy as he imitates the sound of the wagons when pushed by the earthbenders. (It kinda sounds like Swhizz! Swhazz! Swhizz! Swhazz!) I doubt those are the actual train’s noises… but Druk is thrilled!

He finally opens his jaws wide for Zuko to throw the fish inside – and speaking about Zuko, he looks like he’s enjoying himself pretty much this morning.

He doesn’t know I’m here, otherwise he would have frowned and brooded and would act all I’m-so-dark-and-mysterious. (I giggle just from thinking about it.) Too bad I ruined my own cover: My foot accidentally stomps over a small branch when I lean against a nearby tree. It cracks.

Aaaaand… Zuko’s head jolts to me like a coil. 

My hand flies to keep more giggles from coming out of my mouth.

“Katara!” Zuko’s face fluctuates from shocked to frowning. His arms cross over his chest. “Don’t you know that eavesdropping is impolite?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help but wonder ‘what’s a train doing around here?’ and follow the noise.”

He is… unimpressed, “Very funny – not.

My laugh is ringing.

“I didn’t know Druk had such a ritual for eating breakfast, though,” I muse while I run to pet said oh-so-adorable dragon.

“Now you know.” Zuko kneels next to the river to wash his fishy hands. “He doesn’t eat breakfast if I don’t do that whole performance. I think he just likes to torture me.”

Druk grunts in a rather affirmative tone, I decide to not point out that Zuko wasn’t complaining about the performance just a moment ago.

I settle for a simple “I see” instead, pass my hands over Druk’s scales. They are stiff, but skiddy. Zuko comes do the same once his own hands are clean.

Soooooooooooo…” (The ring my lips form becomes tinier and tinier the more it stretches the letter.) “Have you ever been to Ba Sing Se? The Earth Kingdom’s capital?”

I have wanted to go; my grandfather used to tell us stories about how much he used to travel there when he was young.

Dad used to bring us Earth Kingdom gifts when he went to look for resources for the Tribe.

Even Mom travelled before things got really bad with the war. (I’ve always wondered how she must have been in her youth, probably the most beautiful girl in the world.) (She certainly was the most beautiful woman.)

All of them agreed in one thing: the outside world was beautiful! With nature and cities, and bright colors, and the change of the seasons…

“Um…” Zuko mumbles, looking down. “No, I haven’t, really. But I have… had friends that did.”

“Right. Like that friend you told me about last night. Roku, was his name?”

He nods, his voice and eyes are absent, “Yes.”

“Maybe we could go together one day.”

“I thought you wanted to go to the North Pole,” he glances to me over his shoulder. We’re standing side by side.

“Well, eventually we are going to the North Pole, or else neither of us will learn waterbending.” My shoulders lift and fall weightlessly. “We could go to Ba Sing Se after.”

“You’re getting pretty carried away with all this travelling.”

“It’s called travel bug, Zuko. I thought someone who memorized train noises sooooo well would understand.”

The face he makes is priceless! “Remind me why I let you come with me.”

“Because I’m an amazing conversationalist.”

His lips curve up and down simultaneously. “You sound like Sokka.”

I make an elaborate act out of gasping and stepping back with a hand to my chest. “Geez, Zuko! You didn’t have to go for such a low blow!”

He smiles. (Despite himself, that’s obvious.) But he smiles!

Progress! I fist-pump myself inside my head.

Yet, the small hole his mouth digs into his cheek makes my eyes rake up the rest of his face.

His scar bites from above the place his left eyebrow should be to below his cheekbone, the borders of it resemble real teeth marks piercing his healthy skin. It doesn’t make his face look deformed, just… divided; the fleshy red clashes against the paleness. It’s inharmonic.

A flash of gold slices to me beneath the abraded tissue. I rip my eyes away.

“Sorry,” I say, quietly.

Zuko’s voice is indifferent. Resigned. “No worries.”

“It’s just that…” I bite my lip, looking for the appropriate description. “It looks… recent.”

A few seconds of silence pass by, during which the winter air pushes a mass of clouds to block the already weak sunlight. Cold sneaks under the sleeves of my parka. The frozen-wood trees look somber under such blurry light, their leaf-less twigs resemble tentacles growing to trap us away from the sun.

“I guess it was somewhat recent,” Zuko says at the end, his fingers tracing the skin folds over his left cheekbone. “At least… until I left the Fire Nation.”

And got trapped inside that iceberg.

Suppressing the urge to ask further easier if you already know the answer.

It’s not the time for me to tell you yet. (What the hell does that even mean?)

A knot of hurt ties at my gut. I know I shouldn’t expect him to open up all of a sudden, especially to someone he only met recently, but every time I believe we are becoming closer we crash against a fortress wall! One that Zuko has built around himself.

I wonder if he realizes it. That loneliness is simply a cage with imaginary cell bars.

“We… um… better take a look at the map,” he says, already shooting himself to Druk’s back in a single jump. “If we want to find out where are we heading next.”

Right.

Druk carries me on his massive nose to put me on his back as well, where I watch Zuko going through his bag looking for the map we… uh… found. The rest of his luggage would be unassuming… if it didn’t consist in silk, tailored clothes and armors, and sword cases with details made in gold and bronze. As fascinating as they are to look at, my eyes stare at Zuko’s bandaged hands instead. They seem so out of place roaming through such expensive stuff, it’s not even funny; their fabric is already humid and muddy.

“Are your wounds okay?”

“Yes.” Zuko examines his palm briefly. “Thanks for fixing them.”

“I wish I had ‘fixed’ them. They’ll take weeks for healing.”

“It’s okay, I can handle it.”

Just like he can handle small-talk.

I shouldn’t make much of it, he’s being this closed-off since we met. First, not telling me he was the Avatar when I specifically asked him if he believed he was reborn. Second, not telling me he was a prince of the Fire Nation. Third, refusing to tell me more about him so we can finally stop being civil but still complete strangers. Sometimes it’s like – if I couldn’t see him and touch him – he wouldn’t be here.

My hand stretches, trailing my fingertips over the white cloth covering his arms. The back of his hand, down to his exposed, bruised knuckles.

He is here.

Zuko tenses despite the thick bandages keeping us from skin-to-skin contact.

“Look. I found the map.” He pulls it out and then pulls away.

 

 

 

Zuko

Katara and I study the map searching for the closest Air Temple. However, my concentration is not on point today, not now. I am too highly aware of Katara’s presence; we are sitting too close in front of each other. If we lifted our eyes, our eyelashes would nearly entangle.

The thought makes me shiver.

I squeeze and rub my arm – the one she was caressing just a moment ago. Another shiver.

“Hey, look!” I point to a spot in a row of mountains at the east of our location. “This is the Southern Air Temple! And we are just a few hours away from it!”

“We have to go wake Sokka.”

Effectively, when our eyes raise and meet, it is as if there was only a thin string of air between our faces.

I turn around and slide through Druk’s long tail, rushing to our camp.

(How shocking. Katara and I already woke up, packed our sleeping bags, put up and then down a bonfire, ate breakfast… and Sokka’s still asleep!)

“Wake up, Sokka,” I shake him lightly with my boot. “We are leaving for the Air Temple.”

His answers is a god-awful, beastly yawn. “Sleep now. Temple later.”

He rolls away. I frown.

“He’s not really a morning person,” Katara explains, coming closer.

I hum and look down at the somewhat buckled mass he shapes in his sleeping bag. Heat up my fingers. Poke him at his side fast enough to not burn him… gravely.

At another moment, I would say watching him jump up to the sky and then fall back to the ground with such a high-pitched howl it could shatter crystal is funny – but we are short on time now.

 

 

Iroh

My heart aches just from watching Lu Ten looking at the tides from Zhao’s deck. I never thought he would end up in this, at the orders of a persnickety, despotic wannabe dictator; I should have protected him better. That’s what I’ve always tried to do: protect him.

And I had to sacrifice us in order to do so.

In another time, we were one. A family. And even though we still are, that ties of blood can never be broken, it’s not the same. I’m not his hero anymore, not a figure that’s worthy of trust for him.  Rightfully so, I haven’t been honest to him.

I can’t.

The secrets and truths I’ve seen... they’re too much for him – for me to bear.

 

 

Katara

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“Are we there yet?”

Zuko exhales fire. “Sokka, what part of No is the one that you don’t understand?”

“The part where you said we would get there fast, apparently.”

“We just left the camp!”

“Can you two not scream while I am sitting in the middle?” I frown as deep as I can muster at both of them. “You’re breaking my ears, for Spirit’s sake!”

“I would gladly slash out mine if it means not hearing Sokka anymore.”

Sokka’s eyes widen way too gleefully, “Oh, I would pay for seeing that.”

Druk gives a little tremor.

“Sorry, pal,” Zuko pats him at the side of his head. “On my defense, it is Sokka’s fault.”

Mine?

“Yes, yours!”

“What did I just say about screaming?”

Druk shakes us yet again so we’ll cut it out, and I would like to point out that it’s not my fault, but it’s better to avoid a fed up dragon from dropping in the middle of a flight. 

“Okay, okay, Druk,” Zuko says. “We’ll behave while we’re riding.”

“Yeah. When we land, Zuko and I will yell at each other far away from you.”

Druk sounds like he is fine with that.

Aaaaand, now it sounds like Sokka’s stomach picked this time to imitate Druk’s roars.

“Hey, stomach, be quiet, okay? It’s not my fault someone dragged us out of the camp before I could have some food.”

“Neither it is that someone’s fault that you couldn’t wake up earlier so we wouldn’t waste valuable time,” Zuko remarks.

I sigh. “This is going to be a long ride, isn’t it?”

“He started it!” They both say at once. 

The Patola Mountain range is beautiful and imposing, but I can’t shake off the feeling that we are approaching something… strange. Something unknown. The fog around the peaks is condensed in an uncommon way, as if it was some giant ghost shielding its own lost life. The area feels empty, but at the same time mysterious, as if the mountains were purposely hiding something.

“There it is.” I look over Zuko’s shoulder at the sound of his voice. “The Southern Air Temple.”

Whoaaaaaaa!” Mine and Sokka’s voice turns into a flimsy breathe as we gape at the structure. It’s beautiful!

And a little intricate.

Like it was made more as a labyrinth than a normal building – Or buildings; it’s divided in some minor huts distributed here and there, escalating gradually and circling around a large tower in the middle of the terrain.

I wonder how it would have been like to be here; climbing through those stairs outside the tower and all.

“It’s amazing,” I whisper.

But its allure… it morphs the closer we get.

From afar, it is a fantasy, a castle settled in the clouds; up close… it is a shell. Further emphasized by the worn out paint and walls. The more we advance, it turns from a castle to a simple abandoned building, to a vacant cavern. Druk lands fairly away from the great tower’s entrance, I think he’s shaking lightly. The boys and I pet him softly once we all jump from his back, even while our eyes remain glued to the temple. (I think we are all shaking.)

It is not even a cavern, the temple is a ghost itself. It has no life, no warmth, no memory; there’s not the slightest trace – nor a feeling or energy – that there once was anything alive near these walls. Their texture is the one of wrinkly, pale skin. Far colder and more terrifying than ice.

My shivers worsen the more I look at the doorway. It is a big, dark mouth absorbing the frosty air and the weak vitality that remains around. It is not that it inspires fear, only… soullessness. Like we were staring at a creature in the Yomotsu-kuni.

Despite it all, the Air Temple doesn’t feel as an unclean spirit. 

“Are we sure we want to get in there?” Sokka questions.

“Yes.” Zuko’s answer is fast. So are his steps as he walks to the entry. “Druk, don’t move from here.”

Druk agrees and lays down. I run and follow Zuko while Sokka stays behind studying the temple for a little longer.

There are statues of many airbenders in meditating poses framing the pathway. They are also dilapidated for the weather, they don’t resemble humans anymore. I stare at one in front of the entrance; it is better kept and with much fewer snow than the others. It’s another elderly man with shaved head and a long mustache, his airbender tattoos are noticeably carved. There’s something so peaceful about his expression, it gives the impression he was willingly sacrificing his energy to give it to the temple.

“Something wrong?” Zuko turns back to check on me observing the statue and Sokka finally catches up with us.

“No. It’s just… isn’t it a little odd that this statue is so well-kept in comparison to the others?”

Zuko shrugs. “Air Nomads were very close to the Spirits and believed they protected their culture.” He eyes the statue himself. “Maybe this is the Spirit’s way to show it.”

“Or the weather,” Sokka says, shrugging unimportantly. “It could also be the weather.”

“Let’s keep going.”

We finally get to the entryway; a small, strong flame grows over Zuko’s hand once we step in. Cautiously. It’s so eerily quiet the dense silence crashes against the walls producing a weird kind of echo.

Until Sokka’s stomach decides to let itself be known. “Sorry. So… where do I get something to eat?”

“You're lucky enough to be one of the first outsiders to ever visit an airbender temple, and all you can think about is food?”

“I’m surprised he thinks at all,” Zuko comments.

Sokka shrugs. “I’m a simple guy, with simple needs.”

I don’t even finish rolling my eyes when I turn to keep walking in.

“Hey, you guys come see this.”

Zuko’s standing in front one of the walls, increasing his flame for it better illume a painting displayed all over the mural. (It’s astonishing how intense and bright the colors are in contrast with the rest of the temple!) The image’s a depiction of the Elemental Spirit of thunder, Haneul, displaying his powers with a great electric storm approaching a man who’s patiently awaiting for it to arrive, imperturbable. Clearly an Air Nomad for the way he’s dressed.

Whoa!” I gasp.

“I thought you said the Air Nomads were friends with the Spirits,” Sokka’s voice is unmoved even while his eyes roam appreciating the piece.

“And they were also capable of controlling the clouds and the wind,” Zuko reminisces. “Moreover, Haneul is a warrior spirit and the Air Nomads were pacifists. Maybe this is their way of portraying their non-violence.”

“Zuko, can you light up that wall too?” I point to it.

He complies, revealing an equally beautiful art of an Air Nomad meditating over a peaceful field in company of Lan, the Spirit of earth.

“And… that one?” I point to across the hallway.

The painting there is one of the Air Nomads raking the fields of Chun, the Spirit of agriculture.

I feel my smile stretch across my face. “C’mon! Let’s look for some more!”

“They should have called themselves the Art Nomads,” Sokka deadpans.

“Hey, look at this one,” I exclaim, a little breathlessly.

It is a much greater painting, two times wider than the others, and it doesn’t have an airbender in it.

When Zuko and Sokka get to me, the three of us stare at it in silence, marveled. Moreover, pained.

The beautiful, dark-haired woman in the picture looks sad; her eyes are lost and broken like a porcelain doll’s. Her hair falls in prominent, somber waves; carrying dozens of different Spirits between its strands. The man next to her stares lovingly, with tears in his eyes – the ones that carry some more Spirits.

“They are Barkha and Aroon,” Zuko announces after static, long silence. His voice is delicate, as if to not disrupt the atmosphere of power and loss the image creates. “The two Great Spirits that gave birth to the human world.”

“And repopulated the Spirit World,” I add, following the lines of Barkha’s hair.

“They look very sad,” Sokka observes.

“This must be a painting of before Barkha died and went to the Yomi,” I muse.

The silence pierces us.

Zuko’s voice scrapes us: “It was giving birth to a fire spirit what killed Barkha, right?”

His eyes fixate blankly over the flame on his hand, as if there was nothing there to see – nothing worthy of seeing.

“Why don’t we make a shrine?” I suggest.

“A shrine?” he repeats.

“Since nobody has presented offerings to the Spirits in here for a long time,” I recollect. “We could build a hokora. It would be small and under the protection of the temple.”

Sokka’s hand lands heavily on Zuko’s shoulder.

“Great idea, Katara!” (Did I mention that my brother is real quick to catch up with stuff?) “I wouldn’t want some angry Spirits to feel disrespected and leave us to our own luck!”

 

 

Sokka

“C’mon, Sokka, put some muscle on it.”

“Making him feel better is putting me in a world of hurt,” I tell Katara while she spurs me like an ostrich-horse and I carry a friggin’ rock that’s half my size while she’s just picking tree branches like they were panda-lilies!

“We need the rocks for building the heiden,” she says, picking up another branch. “But I do appreciate you helping me cheer him up.”

“Hey, he may be an idiot, but if we’re going to hang out together, then…”

She ruffles my hair (like I am the younger sibling.) “Thank you, big brother.”

 I huff. “Whatever.”

Zuko, The Grump is moping and waiting for us outside the Air Temple’s entry – (I’ll never get over how much this place creeps me out!) – and he brought not only one, but two rocks by himself! (Showoff.)

“Need some help with that, Sokka?”

Did I mention that I hate smugness? Because I hate smugness!

(It just doesn’t count when I’m the smug one.)

“Nope,” I say, lifting my rock higher. “I’m good.”

“That’s weird,” Katara butts in, “You just said you were in a world of hurt.”

Spirits, woman! Where’s your loyalty?

“Listen – both of you – I’m fine. Let’s just take this inside so we can find… whatever airbending stuff we came to look for.”

Okay, here we go: One step… Then the other… One step… Then the other…

“At that speed, you can be sure we won’t find it soon,” Zuko – The Grump – says.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Avatarness, but I don’t see you doing some high-speed earthbending.”

And just like that, he takes the friggin’ rock off from my arms and carries it like it was nothing. “It’s not necessary when at least I can lift this up.”

Katara laughs.

“Jerk!” I yell after his stupid, smirky face entering the temple with the equally stupid rock.

“I’ve told you to do more weightlifting,” Katara reminds me.

“I’m the man! I decide whatever I lift and what I don’t!”

Urgh!” She goes follow Zuko like a lost puppy. (They deserve each other!)

(And I deserve a new set of dumbbells!)

Zuko carries all the rocks to the painting of Aroon and Barkha, Katara takes out the water from her vial for us to wash and purify our hands. Zuko arranges the stones like a tiny house with walls and a roof, and an opening to serve as the heiden. Then we put Katara’s sprigs inside it – (it’s a luck there used to be sakaki trees around here) – along with a few coins.

The three of us stand up, bow and clap the kashiwade, closing our eyes to muster our kigans.

I pray for Aroon, the Spirit of life, to protect Katara, and Dad, and Gran-Gran, and everybody else that I care about. I pray to be strong enough to protect them myself.

 

 

Katara

I pray for strength so I can carry out my path as a waterbender.

 

 

Zuko

I pray for the strength to fulfill my destiny this time.

Whatever destiny is left for me to achieve – if I even have one at all as of now.

I’m sorry, Barkha…

I’m sorry, Air Nomads…

 “Let’s keep going,” I say, once we finish our prayers.

It doesn’t matter how long we wander through the temple, how many holes we inspect, how many rocks we turn, there’s nothing! Nothing to use, nothing to learn, not the smallest clue that there were benders living in this place! It’s empty! (Just like my list of resources.)

“Guys, come check this out!”

Sokka and I follow Katara’s call down the corridor. She stands at the end of it, facing a giant door.

Looking down, I notice we are all standing on the floor with the national Air Nomad symbol largely and deeply inserted in it: the entwined air currents. It is enclosed by two square shapes that form some sort of sun together.

The door Katara found supports a grouping of metal pipes and three rolled up tubes arranged like the symbol for airbending.

The walls were taken down on this part of the temple, the sunlight illuminates the metal.

“It’s the door to the Air Temple Sanctuary,” I say.

Sanctuary sounds like kind of a big deal,” Sokka points out, “Maybe we’ll find something useful in there… Like food!”

Thoughtless as he is, he charges at the door… but ends up smacking against it, head first.

He tries pushing it with his back, his hands, his shoulder, his other shoulder; it won’t succumb.

“It doesn’t open.”

“How observing,” I mutter. “It needs airbending to open.”

“Well, then what are you doing just standing there? Do some Avatar-y airbending… something already!”

“I think we already established the reason why we came here is because I don’t know how to airbend.”

“And how the hell was coming to a place where you need airbending for opening doors going to fix that?”

Katara sighs. “Do you have any ideas about how to fix this, boy genius?” she asks his way.

“Actually…,” he holds his chin meditatively, “I think that I do.”

His whistle nearly pops my eardrums. “Oh, Druk!”

 

***

 

“Alright, lil’ buddy. This is what we gonna do,” Sokka proceeds to explain his plan to my dragon. “Zuko’s gonna make a smoke curtain with his firebending, and you are gonna use those wings of yours to push it right into those tubes! Do it at my sign, okay?”

Druk side-eyes me.

“Sorry, friend, but until either of us gets a better idea, he is in charge.”

“Damn right I am!” Sokka celebrates. “Okay, Katara, let’s give Firey Boy some space.”

He takes her to behind a pile of rubble, their heads peek over it to watch me set a few more tree branches on fire. Katara looks anxious, as anticipation, not fear; she gives me an encouraging nod.

“Don’t breathe the smoke,” I indicate, covering my mouth and nose with my shirt’s neck.

Focusing on my palms and the twigs on the floor, I heat them both gradually, feeling my own skin – pores, blood, atoms – warming up and picturing the wood slowly burning from the inside out.

Blazing. Smoldering. Fire. Ashes.

It doesn’t take long before the smoke rises and I apply more pressure on my control over the temperature, elevating it, for the smoke to come out quicker, thicker. It’s caging me…

Sokka shouts: “Druk, now!”

And Druk raises on his limbs, batting his wings strongly and throwing the dark clouds into the pipes. (It’s kind of like a tornado only that with a much stronger smell.) One of the curled tubes turns around, and the wind blows out like a horn. The other two tubes do the same and the door opens with a strong quiver.

“Huh,” I mutter. “Who could have known this would work?”

I did,” Sokka smirks once he and Katara come closer.

“I know, that’s why I doubted it would.”

“Boys, look!” Katara’s voice makes us turn our heads again.

She’s already inside the sanctuary, and it’s visibly dark in it. The light coming from here circles around her in an aureole shape.

Sokka enters before I do. (It’s not that I’m scared to step inside! I just… I don’t know what is it that I’ll find in there.)

 

 

Lu Ten

I pray for the strength to fulfill my destiny this time.

Whatever destiny is left for me to achieve – if I even have one at all as of now.

I’m sorry, Barkha…

I’m sorry, Air Nomads…

 “Let’s keep going,” I say, once we finish our prayers.

It doesn’t matter how long we wander through the temple, how many holes we inspect, how many rocks we turn, there’s nothing! Nothing to use, nothing to learn, not the smallest clue that there were benders living in this place! It’s empty! (Just like my list of resources.)

“Guys, come check this out!”

Sokka and I follow Katara’s call down the corridor. She stands at the end of it, facing a giant door.

Looking down, I notice we are all standing on the floor with the national Air Nomad symbol largely and deeply inserted in it: the entwined air currents. It is enclosed by two square shapes that form some sort of sun together.

The door Katara found supports a grouping of metal pipes and three rolled up tubes arranged like the symbol for airbending.

The walls were taken down on this part of the temple, the sunlight illuminates the metal.

“It’s the door to the Air Temple Sanctuary,” I say.

Sanctuary sounds like kind of a big deal,” Sokka points out, “Maybe we’ll find something useful in there… Like food!”

Thoughtless as he is, he charges at the door… but ends up smacking against it, head first.

He tries pushing it with his back, his hands, his shoulder, his other shoulder; it won’t succumb.

“It doesn’t open.”

“How observing,” I mutter. “It needs airbending to open.”

“Well, then what are you doing just standing there? Do some Avatar-y airbending… something already!”

“I think we already established the reason why we came here is because I don’t know how to airbend.”

“And how the hell was coming to a place where you need airbending for opening doors going to fix that?”

Katara sighs. “Do you have any ideas about how to fix this, boy genius?” she asks his way.

“Actually…,” he holds his chin meditatively, “I think that I do.”

His whistle nearly pops my eardrums. “Oh, Druk!”

 

***

 

“Alright, lil’ buddy. This is what we gonna do,” Sokka proceeds to explain his plan to my dragon. “Zuko’s gonna make a smoke curtain with his firebending, and you are gonna use those wings of yours to push it right into those tubes! Do it at my sign, okay?”

Druk side-eyes me.

“Sorry, friend, but until either of us gets a better idea, he is in charge.”

“Damn right I am!” Sokka celebrates. “Okay, Katara, let’s give Firey Boy some space.”

He takes her to behind a pile of rubble, their heads peek over it to watch me set a few more tree branches on fire. Katara looks anxious, as anticipation, not fear; she gives me an encouraging nod.

“Don’t breathe the smoke,” I indicate, covering my mouth and nose with my shirt’s neck.

Focusing on my palms and the twigs on the floor, I heat them both gradually, feeling my own skin – pores, blood, atoms – warming up and picturing the wood slowly burning from the inside out.

Blazing. Smoldering. Fire. Ashes.

It doesn’t take long before the smoke rises and I apply more pressure on my control over the temperature, elevating it, for the smoke to come out quicker, thicker. It’s caging me…

Sokka shouts: “Druk, now!”

And Druk raises on his limbs, batting his wings strongly and throwing the dark clouds into the pipes. (It’s kind of like a tornado only that with a much stronger smell.) One of the curled tubes turns around, and the wind blows out like a horn. The other two tubes do the same and the door opens with a strong quiver.

“Huh,” I mutter. “Who could have known this would work?”

I did,” Sokka smirks once he and Katara come closer.

“I know, that’s why I doubted it would.”

“Boys, look!” Katara’s voice makes us turn our heads again.

She’s already inside the sanctuary, and it’s visibly dark in it. The light coming from here circles around her in an aureole shape.

Sokka enters before I do. (It’s not that I’m scared to step inside! I just… I don’t know what is it that I’ll find in there.)

 

 

Zuko

“More statues?” Sokka does little to hide his bewilderment. “That’s it? Where’s the food?”

Katara and I ignore him in favor of studying the chain of granite statues. They are arranged in a circular shape and climb all the way up the temple’s tower, from the ground to the roof. It is unclear where the display ends, so high it is.

“I wonder who they are,” Katara says.

“I’m not sure,” I admit, “but they seem familiar.”

My steps echo through the Sanctuary as I approach. “This one is a firebender.”

I know it for the headpiece he’s wearing.

Katara comes to inspect it herself. Then she looks at the statue next to it. “And he’s next to an airbender.”

And they are both erect next to a waterbender and earthbender, respectively.

“Zuko, they’re lined up in a pattern,” she proceeds to point at each as she announces them: “Fire, Air, Water, Earth.”

My eyes grow. “That’s the Avatar Cycle.”

“Exactly!” Katara lights up. “They’re Avatars! These are all of your past lives!”

My past lives…

My eyes climb again through the queue of statues, trying to find the end despite knowing I can’t. The light coming through the opening in the roof blinds me. They are so many…

It’s overwhelming; somehow… not unwelcome. For once, I feel like… it feels… like… I’m not completely alone.

I continue walking, examining the rest of the sculptures.

“Past lives?” Sokka skeptical voice also resonates. “Katara, you really believe in that stuff?”

“It’s true,” she emphasizes, “When Avatars die, they’re reincarnated in the next nation in the cycle.”

I count the statues as I pass by. An airbender woman, a Water Tribe man, an Earth Kingdom…

Zuko.

I halt.

My name… it didn’t sound – I didn’t hear it – it just… snapped inside my head.

Something’s pulling me to come back to the sculptures. Not aggressively; whatever it is, it feels like a familiar grip. And a sort of familiar knowledge. As though I’ve been here before.

As though I want to be here.

I turn back to face the sculpture of the Earth Kingdom lady I passed. Her clothes are a little uncharacteristic of her nation, but the garments she’s wearing have its state symbol. She is beautiful, and looks strikingly young. Perhaps for the clear mask of makeup she is wearing.

Zuko.

It is her – her voice.

‘Yes?’

‘Such a pleasure to meet you, kid! I’m the Avatar Kyoshi. I get the feeling you and I are going to get along just fine.’

“Zuko! Snap out of it!” Katara’s hand lands on my shoulder.

I nearly fall back, dizzy. “Huh?”

“You looked like you were hypnotized,” Sokka explains.

“Oh…” My hand reaches for my head. My mind is… fuzzy. “Sorry.”

“Who’s that?” Katara asks, looking at the statue.

“That’s the Avatar Kyoshi,” I say, smiling for a sudden thrill. “The Avatar before me.”

Sokka snorts. “You were a girl?”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Katara bites out, glaring.

“Nothing, nothing,” her brother shrugs nonchalantly. “At least if one day I find him hyping over lipstick shades, then I’ll know from who he inherited it.”

Katara’s eyes sharpen, but she drops the argument to continue staring at Kyoshi. “There’s no writing,” she notices, turning to me. “How do you know her name?”

When my mouth opens, no answer comes out. I can’t muster one, my brain is still cloudy. Foggy. Blind.

“I…” My thoughts are plain black. “I don’t know it…”

 

Lu Ten

It’s not difficult to avoid my father in such a humungous ship. (The day has arrived that Zhao’s superiority complex came to my favor.)

Or it would, if my father wasn’t sneaky enough to find me every time.

“Son, you’re making a mistake.”

“More of a mistake than renouncing to a prosperous military career, dragging your own son to the mud with you and then leave him without his right to the throne?”

His sigh doesn’t touch me at all. “I’ve told you I had my reasons to do what I did.”

“Then why don’t you tell them to me?” I explode, spinning to face him. “Why are you not telling me what made you ruin both our lives and bring dishonor to our name?”

“Lu Ten,” my name is a breath in his voice, “I need you to trust me on this. When have I ever lied to you?”

“It’s not about lying,” I counter, “It’s about keeping me in the dark! What are you not telling me, father? I’ve been nothing but loyal to you ever since the day I was born, and you repay me by distrusting me?”

“I could never distrust you.”

“For the looks of it, you already are!”

“Lu Ten…” His hand comes my way.

I step back. “No! Don’t touch me, don’t play the pity card! I’m not some gullible kid anymore, I’ve changed! And I’ll restore my honor by myself. My honor alone. You do whatever you want as long as you stay the hell out of my way this time.”

“Lu Ten, Zhao is using you!”

“You think I don’t already know that?”

For Spirit’s sake, how stupid does he think I am?

“You seriously believe I can’t pick a megalomaniac from a crowd? I am manipulating Zhao! He’s going to put the Avatar in a silver platter right before me, and I know he thinks I’ll just stand back while he takes the precious credit for himself. But, guess what? He – just like you – is wrong!”

His eyes – my eyes – turn into shattered crystal, amber irises drained of all light and glow. The whiteness of his face accentuates his wrinkles, making his skin look slacker, poorly nourished. He’s not scared, he’s repulsed… by me.

 

 


Zuko

“Well, aside from a very refined art exposition… there’s nothing in here.” Sokka’s fingers continue picking pieces of flourishing grass as we sit outside the Southern Air Temple.

My eyes rise to the sky, looking at the clouds flowing. (If the Air Nomads turned into Spirits, this would be a good time for them to manifest themselves and give me some kind of airbending sign.)

“Don’t give up hope, guys,” Katara – ever the optimist – intercedes. “There are still many Air Temples to visit.”

“Sure,” I say, “all distributed around the world. It will take ages to get to them all.”

I can hear the pout in her voice. “We could…”

Sokka cuts her off, “Look, let’s just finally go find something to eat. We need to get the hell out of here, this place is creepy.”

Without further announcing, he stands up, searching for Druk.

I stand too. And turn to the Air Temple once more.

I have deciphered what this place is; a gravestone. A tomb. An abandoned, forgotten one. Forgotten like me, abandoned by me. I am responsible for this aura of burden and torment, an entire mountain dead because I was simply weak, a failure. A weak man with weak soul. Weak fire.

Unworthy.

I wasn’t worthy of being a hero for the Air Nomads, that is why I failed them. I wasn’t worthy of being a prince or a ruler either. Nor of being a son. I wasn’t – never have been – anything.

“What are you thinking about?” Katara approaches me at the entrance. Her eyes are melting snow: serene and transparent, with only a share of cold.

“Just wondering how this place must have been when the Air Nomads lived.”

“It must have been beautiful,” she says, blue eyes wandering over the entrance’s frame.

“Yes,” I agree; convoke another flame to ablaze over my hand.

It does not dissipate the unfeeling coldness.

“The story about Barkha is true too, you know?” I ponder. “When Barkha gave birth to Agni, the Elemental Fire Spirit, she was gravely injured and died. It was her death what unleashed death for humans alike, and Aroon’s grief for his wife what created sadness and despair. Agni and his fire were the catalyst for impurity and evilness to enter the human world.”

The wind is hard and silent. I extinguish the flame in my hand. Turn to look at Katara in the eye, “You should stop trying to get close to me.”

She merely gazes at me for a brief second; her eyes are now made of pure, flowing water.

She takes a step closer. Her breath is hot nearly brushing my chin, “Why not?”

Something ruffles in the snow.

“Did you hear something?” I ask.

“Actually, yes.”

“Hey, what’s taking you so long?” Sokka climbs the stairs to where we are standing.

“Shhh!” I press a finger to my lips. “Katara and I just heard something.”

His eyes broaden speedily, just as his head glances at his sides. “What was it?”

“We’re not sure,” Katara says.

“Somebody could have followed us here,” her brother presses.

“You two stay here while I go look,” I say.

“And leaving all the glory to you? No way!”

I can’t waste my focus on sneering at Sokka now, so I will leave it for later. He takes out his club, ready to charge as we walk over to the monticules from where the noise came from.

Katara is close behind us, too. (Does everybody in their family jumps head to the danger like that or what?)

“It probably is a firebender,” Sokka says. “Nobody make a sound!”

You are making a sound.”

He hushes me with his finger to his mouth. “Shhhhhhhhh!

Once we get to the monticules, we find…

“A lemur?”

Sokka drools. “Food!

And, as quick as lightning, a hurricane-like current of air shoots us away to crash against the ground and the rocks.

What the actual hell?” My back and skull hurt for the smash, Sokka is growling in the snow, thank Spirits Katara was far enough behind to not fall with us.

“Boys!”

She kneels next to us as Sokka coughs snow and I rub the back of my head.

Another wind stream, thinner and straighter, tornado-like, appears before our eyes, coursing through the spot from where it launched us, seemingly sucking up the lemur and then fleeing.

“What the hell is that?”

“Let’s go find out,” I bolt to follow it.

“Zuko, wait! It could be dangerous!”

I keep running despite Katara’s calls. The strange mass of wind and dust and clouds moves fluently, swiftly, like… wind.

It is kind of like a small blizzard-tornado all in one: messy, dark, compressed, carrying stuff that it finds along the way. Damn it, I can’t catch it! And now it is speeding down the mountains borders.

I cast a large and concentrated fire jet; it glows blindingly golden with fierce red. Once I form it, I jump on top of it and skate through the mountain, following the damn thing – which is doing quite a good job trying to avoid me. It directs itself expertly through the most rocky, tricky roads and sharp cliffs. (How the fuck can it keep itself glued to the mountain all the goddamn time?)

The farther we get – closer to the foot of the mount – the harder it is for me to see, the sand and the dirt cloud my vision. At this rate I’ll end up losing its track. Unless…

I drive my fire to curve to the right, hustling it and surfing through what is left of the mountain until I arrive at the forest. Soon enough the godawful thing gets to my line of sight. I tackle it.

It was a person all along! As soon as I grab him, the massive cloud fades.

Our persecution just turned into a chaotic tussle, rolling and grunting on ground and trying to push the other away. (More specifically, he is trying to push me away, I’m trying to keep him captured.)

“Let me go!” he squeals once I pin him to the ground.

“Zuko!” Katara and Sokka land Druk next to us.

“What the – ? You’re just a kid!” I yell.

“I’m fourteen!” he wails.

It would look more mature if he wasn’t pouting like goddamn baby!

“Zuko, what is wrong with you? Let him go already!”

Katara takes my shoulders to push me off of him, and proceeds to apologize profusely to the stupid child. I’m a little busy shaking off the sand he sprinkled over me and catching the breath that I lost for following him across a fucking mountain!

“I’m so sorry, my friend didn’t mean to do that,” she kneels in front of him. “I’m so very sorry… uh… What’s your name?”

The winged lemur we saw earlier planes over to sit on his lap. The kid hugs him close to his chest.

“Aang,” he says. “My name is Aang.”

Notes:

Trivia

For expanding the worldbuilding, I focused on the subject of religion in the Avatar World, relating the already existing lore and then inspiring myself in East Asian religions. In this chapter, Zuko, Katara, and Sokka make several references to Shinto, a polytheistic indigenous Japanese religion. According to that, the following term refer to:

Yomotsu-kuni: Shintoist texts describe multiple realms in Shinto cosmology: The Plain of High Heaven (Takama-no-hara), where the kami (gods) live; the Phenomenal or Manifested World (Utsushi-yo), where humans dwell; and the Nether World (Yomotsu-kuni), where unclean spirits reside.

Aroon and Barkha: They’re inspired in Izanagi-no-Mikoto and Izanami-no-Mikoto, respectively; the first man and woman who gave birth to Earth and the kamis in it. Following the story, Izanagi and Izami were a couple of spouses as well as siblings, they populated the world with the different kami. Izanami died giving birth to a fire kami causing Izanagi to be stricken by grief and attempt to retrieve her from the Yomi (the Underworld). There, he found her body in a rotten state instead. Repulsed by her impurity, he rejected her. Enraged, Izanami chased after him until Izanagi locked her inside the Yomi and she became the goddess of the Dead. The name Aroon is from Thai origin while Barkha is from India, they mean “dawn” and “rain” respectively.

Yomi: The Underworld.

Hokora: Small shrines found on larger shrines and dedicated to folk kami, or on a street side, treasuring kami not under the authority of any large shrine. They are usually considered as Shintoist, but they are every so often decorated with a swastika which in Japan is a symbol linked to Buddhism.

Heiden: Also called hall of offerings. The space in the shrines where offers and prayers are presented so the kami can enter the human world.

Sakaki tree branches: A common offering.

Kashiwade: The act of bowing and clapping in front of the shrine.

Kigan: Prayer.

Edit:

Haneul: It’s inspired in Raijin, the elemental kami of lightning, thunder and storms. The Haneul is from Korean origin and it means “sky”.

Lan: Inspired by the elemental kami of earth, Sarutahiko Okami. “Lan” means “orchid, elegant” or “mountain mist” depending on the Chinese characters with which the name is formed. As a Vietnamese name, it means “orchid”.

Chun: Inspired by Inari Okami, the god of rice and agriculture. “Chun” means “spring” (the season) in Chinese.

Agni: Inspired by Kagutsuchi, the fire kami that caused Izanami’s death. “Agni” literally means “fire” in Sankskrit and is the name of the Hindu fire god.

Chapter 12: Chapter十一: We lied

Notes:

Hey, guys 👋😃 Sorry for the late deliver! 🙀 And I'm sorry to say that scheduled electricity cuts are back here in Venezuela, so the energy is being taken away for 6 to 7 hours each day, so I'll probably have to write and deliver much slower than usual.

On a happier note, everything from here in the story is completely original with only some minor canon aspects, I made several major worldbuilding changes out of respect for the East Asian fans who were outraged at the racism within the OG series. I was REAL serious when I tagged "This isn't going to go the way you think" 😅

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Zuko

“Aang. My name is Aang.” The winged lemur croaks in his arms. “And this is Momo.”

“Nice to meet you, Aang and Momo,” Katara smiles.

I fight the need to roll my eyes.

“I’m Katara,” she continues. “This is my brother, Sokka,” she gestures to him, and to me next, “And our friend, Zuko.”

The stupid child – (Aang) – studies Sokka and me flanking Katara’s sides; neither of us is exactly happy with him at the moment. (Huh. Turns out you just need an airbender to get us to agree on something.)

Wait a minute…

“You’re an Air Nomad,” I say, more or less without intending to. My eyes practically swallow the sight of his arrow tattoos on his head and hands.

He stands from the ground, (his tattoos show further through his wrists and forearms with the tussling of his sleeves.) “A monk, actually,” he answers. “Or at least I’ll be soon.”

I scoff. “Not that soon. You are just a kid.”

He shrugs innocently. “Well, you’re just a teenager.”

I glower at him. And then at Sokka laughing.

He’s quick to correct himself: “Not funny,” shaking his head for extra believability.

“We’re very sorry we scared you, Aang,” Katara gets to her feet next.

We scared him?” I almost choke on disbelief. “He’s the one that hurricaned us to a tree!”

“For once I’m on The Grump’s side.”

“I’m sorry!” Aang whines. “It’s just that I heard when you called Momo food and…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Katara excuses him indulgently.

“It does matter!” I accentuate.

She turns to me, hissing, “Zuko, he’s just a kid!”

“Which reminds me…” I look at Aang, “How are you even here? Aren’t Air Nomads extinct since… a hundred years ago?”

Awareness and shock light Katara’s face as she returns to stare at Aang.

“You seem pretty young for that,” I add.

Aang’s only response is to become wide-eyed. “Ah…”

Why does Druk has to pick up this moment to come closer?

“How is your dragon even here?” Aang retorts. “Aren’t they extinct since a hundred years ago?”

“Clever boy,” Sokka muses.

Annoying boy, I think.

“I don’t have time for this!” I yell. “Let’s go!”

“Zuko, wait!” Katara pulls at my arm. “Don’t you see the opportunity we have here? He could train you!”

“Are you joking?” She’s officially gone too far! “I need more than some preschooler level airbending!”

“He was good enough to throw you off balance,” Sokka points out.

“He was good enough to throw you off yours, not that that’s very difficult!”

He has a name,” Katara intercedes.

“And he can hear you,” Aang concludes. “What’s that that you’re talking about training?”

“Nothing!” I say. “Forget it! Go home get ready for your nap or something!”

“My, Zuko, you really have a gift with kids,” Sokka mocks.

Katara isn’t done trying to persuade me, “Zuko…”

And Sokka’s stomach announces itself once more.

“Are you…” Aang starts, “hungry?”

“Uh… I’m afraid we were kind of in a hurry this morning, so my brother missed breakfast.”

“Air Nomads never turn away a hungry guest,” Aang replies. We can see his eyes sparkling to the fullest for how broad they are. “Follow me. I know where to find you some food.”

“You heard the little guy, troop!” Sokka is quick to march behind him.

Katara and I stay behind watching the bizarre pair they make. She glances at me one last time, still holding to my arm. Then yanks at it for me to follow; I do.

 

***

 

“What is that thing?”

I answer boringly at Sokka’s screech, “It’s a flying bison.”

“It’s my flying bison,” Aang clarifies smiley, running to the massive, horned ball of fur. “Look, Appa! I brought new friends!”

“Flying bison?” Sokka parrots. “Right. And this is Katara, my flying sister.”

She smacks him in the arm.

The overgrown fuzz approaches us. (If you’ve never seen a flying bison, they resemble an oversized bull/yak/mop with an insanely big and damp nose that this particular one uses to inhale us, before freaking licking me with its even larger and wetter tongue.) (And right when I think the worst has already happened to me.)

“He likes you!” Aang cheers.

“What an honor,” I deadpan, brushing away the slobber from my face.

Druk comes from behind us, growling at the bison and curling himself around me.

“By the way, this is my dragon, Druk.” I pet him on the side of his jaw. “He is territorial.”

He continues at a growling contest with Aang’s bison, the one who apparently isn’t fond of Druk either. Both are fiercely baring their teeth.

“Don’t be like that, pal.” I comfort him further and he leaves his stance to rub his head against me, “How could I ever interchange you?”

Awww! The love of a boy for his overweighed lizard!” (Why does Sokka has to ruin everything?)

“Let’s better get going. We need to fly to get the place where I want to take you.” Aang jumps, and – with his sole fist and a spin in the air – he shoots himself to Appa’s back. Momo follows. “Don’t worry, Appa’s the best transport around!”

Druk complains.

“He just says that because he hasn’t seen you fly,” I assure him.

“Are you saying your dragon flies better than my bison?”

“Yes,” I remark, already settling on Druk’s back, “That’s what I am saying.”

He harrumps narrowing his eyes at me. (With the almost white light of the sun covered by the clouds, I can discern their shade of gray a bit better. Darker than the cloudy sky, lighter than the frozen rock mountains.)

 “Cool, a race between obnoxious benders,” Sokka climbs Druk next.

“Katara, you are not coming?” I say.

She looks at me, and then at Aang. “Actually, I think I’ll be riding on Appa for this one.”

Something in me simply… short-circuits. “What?”

“You will?” Aang’s eyes light up yet again; in fact, his whole pose is like somebody just handed him the biggest of the gifts.

“I just think it’ll be fun to get to know our new friends a little better,” Katara says already getting closer to the bushy thing with more knots than hair.

“It’ll be the most fun if you come with us! Stay right where you are.”

Aang twists and raises his arms to create a tornado/cannon that lifts Katara to land on Appa’s back as well. She giggles.

“Buckle up!” Aang takes Appa’s strings. “Appa, yip yip!”

And without further announcement they raise and fly away.

Sokka’s grinning over my shoulder.

“What the hell are you smiling about?” I snarl.

“Oh, you know what I’m smiling about.”

 

 

Aang

New friends, new friends, new friends! I can’t believe I’m coming back home with new friends! Whenever I go to the Temple, I always return kind of sad. Not only because I never got to meet the Temple when the ancient monks were around, but also because everything in there feels so… frozen. (Not for the snow.) I know the anicca[1] explains everything is ephemeral, and I’m afraid of falling into the avijjā[2] and further into the dukkha[3] by thinking how there should be… or at least it would be nice if there was… a trace of Air Nomad… essence in there… but…

“Is something wrong, Aang?” Katara asks above the sound of the wind.

“Nope!” I smile. “Everything is fine!”

Zuko, Sokka and Druk fly close behind us and I guide them away from the Patola Mountain range, through the Tanggula Mountains[4] then and past the Yangtze River[5]. Everything beneath us looks as if the Spirits had drawn a very curvy map over the earth.

“This view is amazing,” Katara says.

“I know. This is the most beautiful place in the world.”

I always wonder if one day we will have to move again. And I know I shouldn’t think about it, but if we do, I’m going to miss this place.

I shake my head. No craving, no clinging, no craving, no clinging. [6]

“You sure everything is fine?”

“Yup! Totally!”

I land the guys on a hill a bit away from where our camp is settled, (enough for nobody to see a huge red dragon.)

“You stay here while I go look for the food,” I tell them. “We’re not allowed to bring foreigners.”

“‘We’?” Zuko asks.

“Ah… I’ll see you later! Appa, stay here to take care of our guests!”

Bless be airbending for letting me run away with a very fast airball!

Momo comes behind me.

It looks like Gyatso, Tashi, and Pasang haven’t returned from their meditation. Awesome!

“Aang, where were you?”

“Nowhere. Is there any food left?” I run to the storage tents. “Oh, and where are the khatas[7]? And the dzabija cups[8]? Or better, the silver ones[9]! And did the elders make Chhaang[10] today?”

 

Zuko

“You don’t think he will abandon us here, right?”

Katara’s baffled: “Sokka! How could you believe such a thing?”

“Yeah, Sokka,” I say, lounging on Druk’s tail, “He even left his bison with us as a warranty.”

Said bison roars as though agreeing.

“It’s not about warranties,” Katara argues, “Aang just has a good heart.”

“Really?” I push myself up. “When did you find out, during the… what? Twenty minutes we spent flying?”

Her answer is clipped: “I can tell it.”

“You’re too trusting,” I counter.

Sokka’s the one to indirectly tell me to shut up, (rightfully so.) “Yeah, I think that’s the reason why we are here.”

I tsk.

“I’m back!” Aang walks up the hill where the three of us sit. He’s carrying a great, clearly stuffed sac that tinkles with each of his steps. “Sorry about the late, I couldn’t find the correct cups.”

It’s all gust of airbending after that: He throws the sac in the air like it weighed nothing; pots, cups, and porcelain plates float in the air seemingly reaching for the ground in slow motion as he shapes a tornado with his legs. His wind raises two rocks and jets them to settle right in front of Katara, Sokka, and me; one on top of the other, oddly enough forming somewhat of a table. The cloth of the sac finally falls, twisted inside out, and even more oddly serving as a colorful tablecloth with a vibrant pattern of classic Air Nomad orange and yellow. The pots and teacups fall squarely on their feet in calculated corners of the improvised surface to be close enough for each of our reaches.

Silk white khatas now rest around our shoulders.

Aang bows our way, “For you.”

“What was it that you were saying about preschooler level airbending, Zuko?” (Of course, Katara picks up this time to throw that in my face.)

I just side-eye her.

Aang holds the teapot in an offering manner.

“Bring that on – ”

I smack Sokka in the arm, “We’re supposed to decline first!” [11]

“Really?” Katara’s eyes grow in surprise.

Yes!” Spirits, their manners are disastrous!

The two of them follow my example for the rest of the customary serving as Aang pours the tea.

After that, “Chhaang, Zuko?”

I consider it. “Yes, please.”

Katara and Sokka accept the Chhaang, too, and I watch as Aang’s smile turn just the slightest flashier as he serves Katara. [12] (Now I do roll my eyes.)

“You sure you want to drink that, Sokka?” I ask, respiring the hot steam of my cup, “The alcohol could hit you badly in your empty stomach.”

Katara’s the most impressed by this new piece of information, “This has alcohol?”

“It’s sort of a beer, but it almost doesn’t have any,” Aang explains, “I thought you guys would like it.”

“It’s okay, little guy,” Sokka reassures him, “My stomach’s an iron fortress!”

(Somehow I find that rather difficult to believe.) 

At least the Chhaang does something to lessen the cold weather. The liquor doesn’t burn my throat but melts my insides, turns me into a growing bonfire; it reminds me of when my mother read stories to me and Azulon in front of the chimney. Makes me feel safe.

And also, sad.

“It tastes really good,” Katara whispers absently after taking her own sip. Judging by her voice, she also fell under the effects of the drink.

Aang holds open one of the containers to me, “Cheser Mog, Zuko?” [13] [14]

I shake my head.

“Laping?”[15]

I decline again.

“Gyabrag?”[16]

I stare at the pancake.

Then shrug, “Yes, please.”

“Don’t you have something with meat around there?” Sokka scrutinizes the pots even before Aang gets the chance to serve him. (Katara decided to have Gyabrag like me.)

“We’re vegetarians,” the kid replies.

“Okay, we’re leaving.”

I’m the one to hold back the Water Tribe oaf before he gets away.

“You keep saying ‘we’,” I say to Aang, pulling Sokka down by his hood, “Mind if I ask who you mean? I was told,” I glance as fixedly at Katara and Sokka as I can muster through the corner of my eye, “that airbenders were extinct.”

Their heads shake profusely with matching expressions of incredulity, they shrug in surrender.

Aang’s gray gaze falls, his skinny shoulders fall. Despite what it looks like, his posture does not irradiate defeat, only sadness. (Well, that’s one thing we have in common so far.) He mirrors us sitting cross-legged at the other side of the devised table, his winged lemur planes over and comes to his arms, solicitous. Aang squashes him yet again.

“You guys know how to keep a secret?”

(It’s creepy the way the three of us answer at the same time.) “Yes.”

(I believe he notices, but decides to let it go.) “When the Air Nomad massacre occurred,” he starts, his skin turns even ashier gray than his eyes, “the Temples were evacuated. The senior monks had visions granted by the Spirits about what was coming, and tried sending everyone away before the Fire Nation arrived.”

He looks at me – at my red clothes with the Fire Nation emblem. I feel nauseous.

“Not everyone could escape, but some could. They were few, but enough to continue the Air Nomad bloodline. Ever since then, we have done what our name suggests: move around. Make camps here and there. Hidden from the rest of the world. We know what the Fire Nation would do to us if they believed the Avatar is among us.”

I turn away, hard.

Katara’s hand comes to my tensed shoulder. I ignore it, digging my nails in my palms. It hurts. I can almost – almost – feel the warmth and wetness of the blood.

Blood.

“We’re very sorry, Aang,” she says.

“It’s okay.” His voice is light but quickly turns urgent, “and it’s no offense, Zuko. The monks believe in forgiveness, and to not being held back by grudges, and our karma…”

“Aang,” I halt him. “It is fine.”

One of my hands stroke the silk around my neck.

“But do you mind taking this away?” I ask, already pulling it off. (Not nastily.) (I’m not that cruel.)

“Why?” his eyes are apprehensive as he takes it in his hands. “Is something wrong with it?”

“Cultural clash,” I indicate. “In the Fire Nation, white is the color of death.”

“Oh, my!” His mouth turns agape. “I’m so sorry! I’m such a horrible host!”

“No, you are not,” I say, weary. “You just didn’t know. You are an excellent host.”

“Absolutely, Aang!” Katara remarks. “The lunch was wonderful!”

“Yeah, kid” – it is hard to understand Sokka with his mouth stuffed with Chetang Goiche – “Not bad for a vegetarian.”

Aang squeals. “Yay! I’m going to tell Monk Gyatso I hosted a meal all by myself!”

“Who is Gyatso?”

“The greatest airbender in the world! He took the name after one of the ancient monks whose statues are at the Temple. The one that almost doesn’t have any snow?”

“How do you know about that?” Katara’s eyebrow arches.

“I’m the one that goes to take the snow off from it.”

“Oh!” Realization washes over her face.

“We have also prohibited go visit the Temple, because it’s too much reminiscing of old airbender ways. If somebody was to look for us, they would definitely do so at the Temple, but…” his eyes get lost into dreaminess “I always wanted to know what it was like when Air Nomads still lived there.” A pause. “By the way, what were you guys even doing there?”

It is our turn to vacillate:

“We… uh…”

“Um…”

“We were kinda…”

“Aang!”

He gasps at the sound of his name. “Oh, no! Guys, you gotta hide!”

“Where?”

He makes a blast of wind to take the snow off from the ground and bury us with it. I sneeze.

Shhh!

 How dares that brat to shhh me!

At least the snow is not thick enough to completely block the sight of what is happening outside. Two boys around Aang’s age approach him.

“What are you doing here?”

Even with the limited vision, I can tell how tense his back is. “Nothing, just…” Appa roars, “playing with Appa! And Momo.”

“And what is all that food for?”

“We… wanted to have a meal!”

“With the silver teacups?”

“An elegant meal!”

“You’ve been acting weird since you came back. And where were you anyways?”

“I already told you: nowhere.”

“We’re telling the monks if you went to the Temple again,” they threaten smugly, “They won’t let you stay in the monastery if they know you’ve been disobeying.”

I frown, my palms heat.

“I haven’t!” Aang’s voice wavers. “I haven’t been going anywhere. Or doing anything. I was just… going for a walk and then… I got hungry. And Appa and Momo got hungry, too!”

“Whatever you say.”

“If our parents ask, tell them we went to play with our air scooters.”

“You guys are going to play a new game?” Aang’s tone swiftly turns hopeful and admiring, “Can I play, too?”

The other kids are just as quick to turn him down though. “I don’t know, man. Since you’re a monk apprentice, and a master airbender… it’s kind of an unfair advantage for whichever team you’re on.”

“But I don’t…”

“It’s the only fair way.”

“Oh,” he’s crestfallen, “okay.”

“Sorry, Aang.”

The kids exit, and unsurprisingly Katara claws her way out of the snow like she was a blizzard,  her steps dig firmly into the ground as she goes to Aang’s side just to throw a snowball their way. (It doesn’t hit.)

“Such jerks!” she complains.

I follow out of our ‘hideout’.

“Why didn’t they have clothes like yours?” I wonder, shaking off the snow from my coat. “And they didn’t have arrow tattoos or shaved heads.”

Aang’s eyes don’t leave the ground for answering. “Not all Air Nomads are monks. I am an apprentice because I was raised by them, but if I weren’t, I would probably be just a common airbender like those boys.”

“Why were you raised by monks?” Katara inquires. “Where are your parents?”

“I’m an orphan,” he says.

My eyes dart to Katara and Sokka over the top of his head. Her hands fly to cover her mouth, he is physically cringing as if somebody ripped something off of his skin.

I rub the back of my neck. “So… um…” Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it! “What was it that you were talking about air scooters?”

I said it.

“That’s an airbending game.”

“Is there anything non airbenders can play, too?”

Somebody just gag me already!

His eyes raise to meet mine, glowing and cheerful. “You want to play something with me?”

“Yeah, you want?” Sokka’s just skeptical.

(To be fair, so is Katara.)

“Yes,” I emphasize, (to all of them.)

 

***

 

“Are you sure that Chhaang didn’t get you drunk? Or maybe it was being under the snow for too long. Do you have fever or something?” Sokka has the audacity to touch my forehead.

I slap his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Well, you’re still pretty much yourself,” he observes, “even with all the out-of-habit niceness and all.”

I look away.

“I think what you’re doing is really sweet, Zuko.”

Katara’s looking at me a little like Aang did this afternoon, with admiration and sunniness. And something else. Something like truth, like she knew I would be this kind of person.

I turn away from her, too.

Aang told us to wait nearby his village until the night fell, so he could sneak us in to the airball stadium (like he called it.) The night is lit, even with the mountains covering the area, it almost seems like the snow irradiated whitish light of its own, projecting it around. The sky is clean, with nearly imperceptible twinkles of stars.

Katara and Sokka stare at it like they’ve just never seen something so vast before.

“It’s strange to see the night at this time of the year.”

“Guys!” Aang whispers and tip-toes his way to us even though we’re still away from the village. He is also smiling. “Everybody is asleep already. C’mon, follow me.”

Perhaps ‘village’ is too much of a stretch to call this place. It is more or so of a camp, the tents are colorful just like the tablecloth Aang brought us for lunch, and raised in a messy arrange. I wonder where the monks sleep; Air Nomads don’t believe in governments or hierarchies, nobody is better than nobody. Nobody possesses more opulence than nobody. Furthermore, opulence – or rather, the attachment to it – is an obstacle to achieve true enlightenment. But the monks serve as their guides and advisors. It’s hard for me, to imagine them so intermixed with the rest of their crowd. 

The Fire Sages told me I would come here – not to the Southern Air Temple in specific, to the culture – and mix myself with it to achieve airbending dominance.

That was when I was sixteen. My father never let me come.

A dark, tight, but revealing feeling crushes my stomach and climbs my throat like a rough fist tearing me from the inside out. He attacked the Air Temples not only because of the Air Nomads pacifist ways; he knew the order of the Avatar Cycle. He wanted to exterminate me, to make sure I was never reborn.

My fingers reach for my scar… Before they can properly register the cool flesh, Aang’s winged lemur comes rest on my shoulder.

“Momo likes you, too, Zuko.”

“By the way, Aang,” Katara intercedes, “where’s Appa?”

“In the bison stables!” he answers cheerfully. “Even he needs some rest!”

“We could get a spare bison,” Sokka ponders, “Just in case Druk ever gets fed up with us again.”

“You guys seem like you have travelled from far away.”

“From the South Pole,” Katara specifies.

“Oh, so you’re from the Southern Water Tribe,” Aang realizes, “What were you doing there, Zuko?”

I glance at Sokka and Katara; they both look back at me with hooded blue eyes. (I don’t know what I was expecting from them, maybe confirmation?) (Maybe approval, so I could tell the kid in what he’s getting himself into.) I don’t find any of it. Sokka is the one to give me a light shake of head.

“I was on a trip,” I say, “and got caught in a storm. Katara and Sokka found me.”

“Oh! You were very lucky then!” His smile is directed at Katara. (Right.) “Stay here while I go look for the ball!”

We watch him tap his way out. He looks so frail. (Figures. He is a child.) (One that we are dragging to only who knows what suicidal mission.) I sigh.

Katara is the one to ask: “Should we tell him?”

“We still don’t know if he’s trustworthy,” Sokka says, “He could sell us out.”

“Oh, yeah,” she replies sarcastically, “you can tell by that evil look in his eyes.”

I don’t escape giving my own answer. The siblings turn to me with yet another of their matching expressions – (it is spine-chilling how they are not twins) – this one is of solemn resolution.

Good thing I am resolute myself: “I don’t want to take the risk of collateral damage. We have plenty of trouble for bringing him to it.”

They both nod with their heads down. Katara embraces herself.

“C’mon, guys! I found the ball!”

Her arms hook with Sokka’s and mine, and pulls us to march to Aang’s voice together.

 

 

Aang

“Ready, Zuko?”

He’s keeping his balance quite well for someone who has never played before. “Sure.”

“Zuko, Zuko! Zuko, Zuko!” Katara’s voice is musical and heavenly as she cheers and claps!

She’s so pretty!

She and Sokka are sitting on the ground watching up to Zuko and me standing over the court’s polls. Zuko guards the goal.

I take out the ball, swinging it with my airbending, its lapels create even more air for me to use. (This whole game is on my side.)

“Aang, Aang! Aang, Aang!”

I let the ball roll over my shoulders – (girls like sporty guys, right?) (Nothing sportier than a good won airball match!)

Zuko stands in the goal like this was about to be the easiest thing in the world. (Little does he know that I’m the best airball scorer around!)

I toss the ball from side to side and then in the air just lazily enough for it to look effortless.

It goes up, and then down; I smile innocently at Zuko before I skip it, and kick it with a powerful air swipe. The sound it makes crashing against the poles would be strident for many, but for me, it’s music, and it’s even more fun to watch as the ball turns into just a light brownish blur shooting through them and closer to Zuko’s goal.

He only continues standing still… watching the ball coming his way.

The ball grows in power and speed… until Zuko jumps and falls to be leveled with the angle where it bounces. He catches it before it can hit another pole and with a firebending push of his feet lands in a different one not far from the goal.

“Nice shot,” he says.

No. Way.

Katara squeals and cheers some more: “Zuko, Zuko! Zuko, Zuko!”

Even Sokka joins in: “Go Team Angry Boy!... Hey, I should put that on a T-shirt!”

“How did you do that?” It’s hard not to scream!

“Um… The heat of the moment?”

He comes to my house! “Rematch!”

 

 

***

“Rematch!”

 

 

***

 

Rematch!

 

***

 

 

It doesn’t matter how many times I call it, each time Zuko blocks my shots with his creepy, super-powered, firebender… I don’t know, something! He jumps, flips, spins – it could all pass as flying if I wasn’t an airbender myself, and if I wasn’t standing so close!

He moves from one side of the court to the other like a rabigaroo – (man, I always wanted one of those) – or a cheetah-dog. I wonder if he just has super-speed, it would make total sense if he had super-speed! He’s just a flash of red, black and a ponytail that fires itself through the court. (Maybe he is just half spider-cat…)

“Guys!” Sokka calls us out. “Can’t we just call it a tie of zero to zero? At least it would be more fun if Zuko could actually score!”

Zuko’s eyes narrow – it’s a strangely spiteful and knowing expression at the same time. “I am no airbender, remember, Sokka?”

He sighs heavily, and shakes his hand, surrendering on the subject.

“Just let me try one more thing,” I say.

Zuko shrugs. “Bring it on.”

I command the wind to bring the ball to me once again, and twirl it around for kicking it… upwards.

It goes up to the sky like a comet and then down, but I’m not done yet. I redirect it with a tornado of my legs for it crash against all the poles, for it to be speedier, stronger. For it to form a labyrinth that Zuko’s eyes can’t escape.

I can do it! I can do it! It sounds like dozens of bells ringing together, and they go to Zuko at an almost dangerous speed!

Actually dangerous.

Oh, no.

It’s going too fast! And too high!

“Zuko, be careful!”

The ball doesn’t hit him, and doesn’t get into the goal either, but crashes against one of its frames instead. It rebounds back to hit Zuko on the head.

Ah!” He falls.

Katara and Sokka scream: “Zuko!

We’re too high! His yelling seems eternal!

“Zuko!” I try create an actual air mattress to catch him but for a moment I’m… blinded.

There’s a light… coming from his… eyes?

“Aang!”

I snap out of it and catch him. Katara and Sokka rush to his sides and I float to them, leveling down the wind I used to put him on the ground. His eyes are not glowing now, they’re closed. Both siblings kneel besides him. Katara takes his face between her hands and Sokka just studies him.

“Zuko!” she says, frantic, “Zuko, can you hear me?”

He complains – it kinda sounds like a half-cough – and reaches to put a hand on his head. “What happened?”

“It was your Avatar Spirit! It almost awakened when you fell!”

Avatar Spirit?

“Oh… It happened again?”

Again?

“Almost.”

“How you feeling?” Sokka intervenes, “Feel like fainting again? And define your level of fainting: from ‘bending an entire ocean’ to ‘being unfrozen after a hundred years’.”

Bending an entire ocean?

 “Quick: how many fingers do you see?” Sokka shows him three of his fingers. “Answer honestly.”

Zuko props himself on to his elbows with a blank expression. “Well, at the time, I see three… people.”

They freeze. Zuko only points to me standing behind their backs.

The three of them – (my new friends) – look at me. Blue eyes wide and looking for an escape and golden eyes just fatalistic and still surprisingly knowing, like they could tell this would happen from the very beginning… and they didn’t like it.

“Aang,” Sokka’s hands extend to me as if to ease me. “Relax. We know what you’re thinking,” he says. “We exaggerated when we said we could keep secrets.”

Notes:

In this chapter, the characters make several references to Buddhism and overall Tibetan culture:
[1] Anicca: One of the assertions of Buddhism, it describes how everything is impermanent.
[2] Avijjā: The ignorance or misperception that anything is permanent or that there is identity in any being. It’s considered the primary source of clinging.
[3] Dukkha: One of Buddhism’s truths that describes how life in this mundane world, with its clinging and craving to impermanent states and things, is unsatisfactory. It raises when we crave and cling to mundane things.
[4] Tanggula Mountains: The actual Tibetan Plateau.
[5] Yangtze River: The longest river in Asia.
[6] Dukkha ceases when craving and clinging cease. Cessation is nirvana, true enlightenment, and peace of mind.
[7] Khata: Following Tibetan dining etiquette, a khata is a white silk scarf that the guest receives upon arriving and symbolizes joy for the visit and reverence for the guest.
[8] Dzabija cups: Wooden teacups made from dzabija wood are considered especially fine in Tibetan culture. They have a smooth surface, a grain pattern and are made with a balanced form.
[9] The best teacups are made from metal or silver, which are used only for guests and on festival days.
[10] Chhaang: a traditional Tibetan and Nepalese beer. The brew tastes like ale. The alcohol content is quite low, but it produces an intense feeling of warmth and well-being.
[11] According to Tibetan etiquette, the guest is supposed to reject the first tea offering. (Etiquette is a very important matter and even the guests are expected to behave at their best.)
[12] Chhaang is served during certain social occasions, like welcoming guests or wooing. Hence Zuko’s annoyance at Aang’s attention towards Katara.
[13] Cheser Mog: A Tibetan dish. Rice, with melted yak butter, brown sugar, raisins and salt.
[14] According to Tibetan etiquette, offered a meal, the guest may politely refuse at first. Upon ensuing offering, the host may find out what the guest wants.
[15] Laping: A spicy cold mung bean noodle dish in Tibetan and Nepalese cuisine.
[16] Gyabrag: A pancake made with barley flour, yak butter, dry cheese curds and sugar
[17] Chetang Goiche: Strips of dough fried with rapeseed oil, topped with brown sugar.

Chapter 13: Chapter 十二: From bad to worse

Notes:

Hello, beautiful people!😃 So, here’s the thing, I was planning on posting around two chapters today, but the next one still needs some work, and I’m very tired to keep working on it tonight, (I still have trouble for sleeping, okay?) but then I remembered I haven’t posted in a while, so I decided to bring this to you tonight and the next one most probably tomorrow. BTW, I want to keep challenging myself so, while I'm no expert and have limited resources to learn, I'll do my best to portray the headcanon of ADHD!Aang.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Katara

“We exaggerated when we said we could keep secrets.”

No joke, Sokka!

I help Zuko stand up. He stumbles, I stabilize him. It’s a horribly familiar scene.

His eyes are only vaguely unfocused, but for the rest he’s fine. His skin is not greenish or gray and his balance is steady. Maybe it’s just that the Avatar Spirit needs to be awakened a few times for him to get used to it… Just not when we are hiding in a foreign camp.

“Aang, say something,” Sokka presses as we observe Aang wide-eyed and standing purposely afar from us. (Is he afraid?) (I wouldn’t blame him if he was, but…) (Are we really something that he should fear?) “Say anything. No, wait – better, don’t say anything. Quick, guys, bring a rope!”

What?

Okay, Sokka is something all of us should fear.

Are you insane?” Zuko takes strength from where he doesn’t have any just to yell at him.

“We can’t leave any witnesses!”

“I can’t believe this,” Zuko facepalms himself, “When I said I didn’t want collateral damage, I didn’t think I would need to protect him from you!”

“You wanted to protect me?” Aang’s question and eyes are hopeful and innocent, it almost hurts to look at him.

“Aang, you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” I say. “It would put us all in danger.”

We have enemies, I want to add; but the Fire Nation can’t find us here, right?

No, unless there’s anything around that they can track as they did back at the Tribe. What could they use to get so high up to these mountains anyway? Demon wings, perhaps? Or Zhao could transform himself into an actual crocodile bear and use his claws to climb. And then we could make ourselves coats with his fur!

Speaking about fur, Appa’s roar – (and his whole body) – appears soaring to us. He’s somewhat shaking, he looks unnerved.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Aang and Momo rush to his side…

… before another, much discordant voice calls him: “Aang!”

“It’s Tashi!” he cringe-whispers.

“Who’s Tashi?”

“A member of the Council of Elders,” his eyes roam around more antsy than alert, “Guys, you gotta hide!”

Zuko’s eyebrow arches as noticeably as it can. “Where?”

Appa lowers his head and jaws to… vomit a giant, brown pouch covered in drool. Its strings are large enough to surround his back.

“You went to look for the pouch to hide them?” Aang brightens. “Oh, buddy!” And then hugs him before going on to tie the strings around his core.

“Get inside the sack,” he tells us.

Zuko’s the one to talk, Sokka and I just stare. “What?”

“Just do it! It’s big enough for the three of you to fit and Tashi won’t see you!”

“Aang!”

“Quick! He’s coming closer!”

 

***

 

Zuko

“Perfect,” I grit under my breath; my foot slips over the wet cloth. “Fantastic.”

Katara and Sokka aren’t doing much better than me keeping the top of the slobby bag away from their heads and hair. We are just contorting at this point, trying to not punch each other – (not so successfully) – while we stand on no solid ground. It is like we were truly floating in a pool of drool.

I think I am going to get sick. “This is all your fault, Sokka!”

“Mine?” his voice is something of a squeal short of breath.

“Yes, yours, Mister ‘bending an entire ocean’.”

“What about Katara? She’s the one that first said the Avatar Spirit thing.”

Skipping a big shot of bison saliva, she protests: “Hey, don’t get me into this!”

“Sure, let’s better get us together into a giant bag covered in bison slaver! – Oh, wait…”

He slips and falls over Katara, who falls over me.

“Can you two try to keep some distance? I do appreciate my personal space,” I say.

“Oh, excuse us, your Avatarness,” the sack trembles as Sokka (tries) stand up. “We didn’t mean to disrupt your quality time bathing yourself in slobber!”

“Stop arguing!” Katara’s also struggling to get up but it doesn’t get in the way of her reproach. “We are going to get Aang in trouble!”

The conversation outside is loud. That Tashi monk sounds innately stern, and with a quite unpleasant voice.

 

Aang

“May I ask what are you doing up at this hour?”

Tashi’s permanent frown is deeper than usual, his bulgy eyes – (sometimes he looks like an iguana-chameleon) – are something like enraged, but I could be just imagining it. I mean, it would make sense that he was enraged, but with so much that I gotta hide (my eyes shoot a quick glance at the bag hanging at Appa’s side) I’m more nervous than usual, too!

Hugging Momo to my chest, I try to come up with something convincing: “I… ah… I… Appa had a nightmare!” I blurt out.

He roars to back me up.

“He came to wake me up,” I finish. (That’s credible, right?)

“He’s lying!” Both Gephel[3] and Nawang[4] – the boys that went looking for me when I was having lunch with Katara, Zuko, and Sokka today – come from behind his back.

I frown at them and their perfectly put chubas[1] and braided hair[2].

“We sleep right beside his tent,” Gephel is the one to talk, “And Appa never came looking for him.”

“He cried!” I say, “I heard him and went looking for him myself! And if it’s all a fuss about what am I doing awake, what are they – ” I point to them “ – doing awake?”

“We just said we went look for Tashi when you ran off.”

Yeah, right.

“Listen, Aang,” Tashi says. “Even if what you are telling us is true, what is Appa doing with its travel sack at night?”

“I… ah… forgot… to take it off.”

“We did not give you permission to travel away from the village today,” he reminds me. (Monkeyfeathers!) “Have you been sneaking away?”

“Nope!” The word pops from my lips and I shake my head for extra convincement.

“Yes, he has!” Gephel and Nawang speak in creepy unison.

“Tomorrow we are officially having a conversation about boundaries, young man,” Tashi warns, “Gyatso has been too indulgent with you, and I’m starting to question your involvement in our teachings.”

I cringe. (Did you hear that sound? It was my heart breaking.) (With guilt.) Momo squawks from how hard I’m squeezing.

Gephel and Nawang stare and smirk while Tashi keeps rambling, “We have caught you lying in the past, and no matter how hard we try, you just don’t seem to grasp the concepts we teach you time and again.”

“I just…” my voice is weak even as I squash Momo stronger, “have trouble remembering some stuff.”

“That’s not what I mean, I meant assimilating the lessons we are imparting you. I swear I’ve never seen a monk apprentice as slack as you, no wonders you tend to go out of Air Nomad culture so often. If I see you have gone against your mentors’ teachings one more time, I’m going to…”

“Ouch!”

Uh-oh! That came from Appa’s sack.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” I rush to say.

But Zuko, Katara and Sokka also rush to talk:

“You two are crushing me!”

“I’m just trying to not get soaked by bison’s slobber!”

“We are officially awful at this hiding thing!”

The sack continues to twist and waver, it looks more like it was containing vulture wasps. Ones that are so heavy that are breaking the seams.

The buckles also snap once the bag falls to the ground.

And it sounded like a harsh fall, too, no wonders the three of them roll out of it like grunting and squeaking hollow logs. (Are there worse things to hide than three teenagers?)

 

Zuko

Katara, Sokka, and I stare at all the four standing Air Nomads, who in return look at us with identical wide-open eyes, yet the most significant look is the one on Aang’s face. His eyes are trembling while his body is paralyzed, they are unsure if to turn to check on that Monk Tashi and the two boys from this afternoon. He is plain panicky.

Katara is the first one to break the silence: “It’s not Aang’s fault!”

She is also the first one to stand, Sokka and I follow. Katara and I give a hesitant step towards Aang, but then we both retreat; Tashi’s gaze is growing deadlier and deadlier by just having us standing this close to him, although his eyes are the most focused on me.

I return his stare blankly.

“He told us not to come!” Katara lies hurriedly. “He… He did tell us it was forbidden!”

Sokka seconds her: “Yeah, he did!”

Aang breaks down in guilt. “No! That’s not true!” He lets go of Momo and turns to Tashi, his eyes quickly becoming pleading. “I did tell them it was forbidden to bring foreigners, but then I brought them myself, I convinced them to play airball with me!”

“No! That’s not true either!” I yank Aang behind my back to shield him from Tashi; (he’s peering at him like he might kill him on the spot!) Katara catches Aang and embraces him protectively. “I am the one that asked him to play airball, this is all my fault; I will accept any reprisals of your judgment!”

Monk Tashi’s eyes are now so narrowed and crinkled in a disgusted frown they don’t seem human anymore. It is not fear what I feel looking at them, but they shine with hatred like the ones of a poisonous centipede snake, one that is slowly readying itself to attack.

They dart themselves to Aang. “You brought Fire Nation to our camp?

 

Aang

I’m scared.

That’s pretty much everything I can think about. I’m scared.

For all the troubles I’ve caused – that I usually cause – I’ve never seen Tashi so angry. Is he really gonna expel me from the monastery? He can’t do that, can he? This… the monastery… Monk Gyatso… it’s everything I have.

“I…”

Before I can even finish, he tosses Zuko away with a waft of airbending, so dense that I can see it moving, whitish but transparent. Zuko flies away faster than the wind itself until his back crashes against a tree. Both the hit and his pained grunt are thunderous.

Zuko!” Katara lets go of me to run to him.

I don’t stay with my arms crossed, I go stand in front of Tashi as he takes his own bending stance. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“That’s no way to talk to your masters, boy!” he spits, “And I’m clearly protecting you and the rest of our culture that this murderer didn’t have the chance to exterminate!”

“Zuko didn’t hurt anybody!” I scream.

 “Gephel! Nawang! Wake up all the others! We have to move from these mountains, the Fire Nation has found us!”

“No!” I convoke an air gust that brings my staff to me, use it to increase my powers and create an air wall to stop them before they leave.

Tashi himself pushes me up from the ground with a tornado that destabilizes me.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Now things did turn scary.

 

Zuko

I hear Katara’s voice before I open my eyes. “Zuko, are you okay?”

The first thing I do is probe the spot that got hit on my back. When I grunt once more, I conclude: “No.”

Sokka comes to us. “We have to get out of here before that psycho monk does something worse to us!”

Aang is placing himself between Tashi and us as effectively as human shielding can be with his size. He looks even smaller and skinnier confronting his own people – his own master – in our favor. The other two boys run and even though his hands and knees shake visibly, Aang uses his baton to block their way with a powerful breeze. But then Tashi raises him from the ground.

“We have to help him!” I say.

Standing up alone awakens a beating pain around my ribs, I grind my teeth with a low growl.

Katara catches me when I stagger and helps me straighten my back. “Easy there!”

“I can’t go easy! Aang’s in trouble!”

 

Aang

I’m quite literally whirling in the air – so this really isn’t something I’m not used to – but I need clear, stable sight of Tashi to block his attacks to Zuko and the others!

“Stop!”

Even faster than I went up, I go down. The tornado fades and I descend with the night wind brushing against my skin, I halt the drop by amplifying my breath and exhaling it to create an air cushion. I whirl yet again, but this time purposely, and get to my feet.

Zuko is the one to come check on me; he’s moving too slowly but not limping. Actually, he’s walking more rigidly than if he was limping. “Aang, are you alright?”

Tashi yells. “He attacked me with his murderous bending!”

“I didn’t,” Zuko counters, “I just pushed you away to let him down. I told you, I will accept any reprisals that you choose, but don’t blame Aang for this!”

Aang – ” My name sounds like an insult “ – is the one that brought you here.”

“Because he was following the Air Nomad lessons!” Now it is Katara the one that comes next to us. “We were hungry and he didn’t turn his back on us! Shouldn’t you be proud?”

Proud?” Tashi’s incredulous, he can’t even pronounce properly for his dismay and his lack of teeth, “Proud that he led a killer right to his own people? And one that has the Fire Nation royal emblem on his clothes on top of that!”

“Royal emblem?” Katara turns to Zuko. I do, too.

He returns our stares briefly but then looks at the floor once his hand reaches to a rounded insignia with a gold ring enclosing a golden fire symbol attached to the neck of his jacket.

 

Zuko

“It is not what it looks like,” I mutter to no one in particular.

Well, maybe to Aang and Katara.

Maybe to Tashi.

Maybe to myself trying to convince me I didn’t hold on to anything from before my banishment. I promised I wouldn’t, and I didn’t want to. The rules of the Agni Kai were very clear, I couldn’t hold any more ties with the royal family.

I have no family.

“It looks like you in specific are a member of the Fire Nation royal family,” Tashi says, adding salt to the wound. “And you are here hunting us so you and your kind can finally eradicate the Avatar.”

My teeth creak between each other. “That is not true.”

“You are right, it’s not true, because the Avatar isn’t with us. And I won’t let you hurt more innocents!”

He shoots me another blow. I don’t necessarily block it or deflect it, I only launch yet another string of fire, so thin but piercing and fast that it cuts the wind and splits it into two halves that dissipate themselves in front of our eyes.

“I don’t want to fight you,” I say as calmly as I can muster. (Despite everything, that is sincere.)

“This is not a fight.” Behind him, groups of Air Nomads step closer to us, curious and shocked. “This is seeking justice.”

A current of air hits me on the side, and another one comes to launch me up from the ground and push me back down. (It seems like I can’t stop growling tonight.)

“Leave him alone!” Katara directs the small amount of water in her vial to Monk Tashi’s face.

“Aang, Sokka, get Zuko out of here while I handle this!”

 

Katara

My water hits Tashi square in the face, and for once he leaves his bending stance. However, when I told Aang and Sokka to get Zuko out of here, I didn’t count on another airbending attack directed to me.

Aang blocks it.

“Better I take him out of here,” Sokka suggests.

“No, you won’t.”

Before any of us can react, three different currents of air push us against the trees, and it doesn’t stop there. The air is not ephemeral that it comes and then dissolves, it’s constant and it feels almost solid and heavy like rocks crushing us instead of wind. It retains us glued to the logs incapable of moving so much as our arms or legs.

“Guys!” Zuko stands up from the ground and tries coming for us.

Yet, as soon as he stands up, he freezes in the spot. His mouth is slack and a small, thin, ghostly white curtain is exiting it. His breath.

“You won’t either.”

I scream, “Zuko!

 

Zuko

Little by little, the sight of Katara trapped against the tree turns blurrier. It would be at the same pace of my breath if I was breathing at all. I am not taking air,  I am losing it. Unhurriedly. My lungs are slowly emptying and drying. Katara’s frightened face – every line of her expression – disappears, dispels, and she becomes blue shadows that mix with pitch-black growing from the corners of my eyes.

Losing track of my senses, I can’t hear the choking noises coming from my own throat, or Katara’s scream, or then the other one of an unknown but level voice asking “What’s going on in here?”

It is too late, I have already drifted away. Fear and power explode inside me.

 

Katara

It’s a bit ironic that when Zuko turns the most indomitable his eyes glow white. White is supposed to be a sign of goodness. It’s supposed to be purifying, for the good to erase the bad. Maybe in a way it still is, just that the circumstances aren’t fit to determine what is exactly good and what (or who) is bad.

With his Avatar Spirit awakened, who knows what could happen.

He gives a single yet strong step into the ground and creates an earthquake. It’s a mighty vibration that grows from the spot he’s stepping on to all directions around him; the omniscient movement gives the impression that a giant, dull sound wave is also rising like a dome that brushes his opponents away.

It works, Tashi is knocked to the ground, losing his grasp over Zuko’s suffocation. Zuko still in his trance, cuts the line of air already outside of his mouth, mixes it with clean wind, and directs it to go to his face so he can inhale it.

The air that was holding Sokka, Aang, and me hostage vanishes as well, and we fall tremblingly on our feet. Things would be fine if all of it ended there, but this is an earthquake! It is too broad of an attack, it doesn’t discriminate, and keeps shaking more and more powerfully as it prolongs itself. It’s impossible to stay on our feet!

My arms ache for the stretch of holding to the log I was trying to get away from. Aang has it more difficult, though, his arms are shorter than mine. The night fills itself with the screams of the Air Nomads. The tents fall. Even the trees do!

“Aang!” The other elderly monk that came asking what was going on uses his own airbending to rush and get Aang away from the forest before a branch falls on top of him.

The tremor keeps escalating.

Actually escalating.

It is lessening, leaving only a trace of itself as it passes us in its way to climb higher through the mountain. (Now I get it.) (It was intended to expand around Zuko to push the threats away.)

Even before it is completely over, Aang, Sokka, and I run to Zuko. Aang pushes himself out of the embrace of the monk that saved him.

Zuko’s glow dies down once we get to his side. “What – ”

The underground vibrations he made keep climbing, we can see the peaks of the mountains trembling and the snow and rocks falling, accumulating, and coming down straight to the camp at high speed.

Zuko and Aang gape at the avalanche, I cringe. Sokka says: “Oh-oh.”

 

Notes:

References to Tibetan culture:
[1] Chuba: Traditional Tibetan clothing. A long capacious robe with wide, elongated sleeves which hang almost to the ground. The nomads generally wear a sheepskin chuba, hand-sewn and crudely tanned in butter, with the fleece on the inside.
[2] Braids: The Tibetans wear their hair either long or in a braid wound around their heads styled in elaborated patterns of lesser braids which make the arrangement to look like a crown.
Names:
[3] Gephel: Tibetan boy name. Means “Increase of Merit.”
[4] Nawang: Tibetan boy name. Means “The Possessive One.”

Chapter 14: Chapter 十三: Hero

Notes:

Sorry that I couldn’t update when I said that I would. My past week has been awful, too many antis Zutara coming to bother me everywhere and I haven’t felt like talking much. I might take some days to draw and cool down.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Katara

It is like the quake suddenly hit a mirror and was returning to us, intensified. The avalanche amasses followed by debris and white dust rolling our way, the shaking mixes with the crashing of the rocks and the wild, panicked screams of the Air Nomads, some of them bump into my friends and me in their frenzy searching for their families and the young kids. It is dizzying, it is devouring the mountain already.

It is too reminiscing of when Zhao attacked our village and it is incredibly difficult to find a solution when even the ground refuses to stay still!

And when a certain, bitter, old monk keeps bothering us:

“You did this?” Tashi’s question is directed at Zuko, angry and with a clear holier-than-thou note that makes me want to slap him across the face.

Zuko’s quick to defend himself – looking defenseless, “It wasn’t my intention!”

“It wasn’t his fault!” I move forward to Tashi, facing him. “You are the one that almost killed him! What did you expect? For him to just stand there and let you choke him to death?”

“I clearly wasn’t trying to kill him, young lady, I was just trying to render him unconscious!” (I want to punch away his very few remaining teeth.) “And you should show some more respect to your elders!”

“I don’t need to ‘respect’ anyone that throws my friends and my brother against trees and then tries to asphyxiate them!”

“Katara, stop it,” Zuko grabs my arms, pulling and turning me away from the annoying fossil. He nearly has to scream for me to hear over the commotion. “We don’t have time for this, we have to find a way to save the village.”

Tashi makes another unwelcome interruption, “This village most certainly doesn’t need of your help!”

The tents fall down vociferously. The food, and plates, and cups they have saved are rolling/shaking away.

“I beg to differ, Monk Tashi.” That’s the other monk that came before the avalanche, the one that saved Aang.

I don’t think he’s that much younger than Tashi but the friendly, serene expression on his face, even given the circumstances, makes him seem livelier; I could swear he is smiling beneath his mustache.

“But before we settle anything, Aang, would you mind introducing us to your new friends?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right!” Aang snaps back to attention. “Guys, this is Monk Gyatso, the one that I told you about. Monk Gyatso, these are my new friends: Katara, Sokka, and Zuko.” He pauses, considering. “Avatar Zuko,” he corrects himself.

Tashi’s flabbergasted: “Avatar?

Gyatso bows to us. “Pleased to meet you, Katara, Sokka, and Avatar Zuko.”

I smile. “Hi! We have heard so much about you.”

A violent quiver interrupts us.

“Right, right, and we’d like to hear more after we fix… ” Sokka gestures to the open scenery “… this. How do we do that?”

A familiar roar sounds in the distance, Druk’s flying to escape the mountains. Zuko whistles and waves at him, “Druk!”

He finally lands on our spot – or, well, it’s hard for a dragon his size to land in a place like this without hitting anything, so he just makes space for himself amidst the forest.

“You guys get everyone else away from here,” Zuko instructs. “I will take care of the avalanche.”

And in a blink, he runs off.

Or tries to; I catch him by his sleeve. “Wait!”

“How are you gonna do that?” Sokka says.

Zuko’s answer is… a grimace. An uncertain one.

Sokka’s eyes grow and his hands go to his head. “Are you kidding me? You don’t have a plan?”

“I can handle it,” Zuko practically snarls, “but you all have to go away!”

“Zuko, you have to let us help,” I plea.

The uproar is becoming louder, more thunderous.

“You have to get the hell out of here!” he insists.

“How are we going to find you again when the avalanche is over?”

He doesn’t answer, he looks away. He doesn’t even have the strength to look us in the eye.

I don’t know if to be glad or sad that Sokka’s not stunned to silence like I am. “Oh, so now you’re just suicidal?”

Now Zuko is just furious. “Forget it and leave already!”

“This is not a street fight!” Sokka argues, “This is a natural disaster, we need a plan! An escape one! Not a ‘jump head to the danger’ one!”

“And I must assume you have an ‘avalanche-dealing’ plan?”

“I could come up with one and avoid anyone from dying if you gave me the chance.”

“There is no ‘chance’! With every minute that passes – including what I have wasted in this conversation – we get closer to being crushed to death!” He gestures to the mass of rocks and snow indeed getting closer, pulling himself out of my grasp. “Besides, I don’t need your help.”

This time he does get away. I don’t have a chance to stop him.

Sokka bites out: “Fine. We don’t need a hero either, we’ll figure out a logical solution by ourselves! Katara, Aang, help me evacuate everyone.”

He goes in direction of the campsite. Aang follows, even Tashi and Gyatso do. I watch them leave… before catching up with Zuko next to Druk; I grab his sleeve tighter, “Zuko, you can’t possibly think about doing this!”

Stabbing panic punctures me from the inside out, growing in pressure the more time it passes that we don’t get out of here. “Sokka’s right, it is suicidal! I know that, you know that. You. Cannot. Do this!”

His head tilts back like asking the moon Why me? (I’m who should be asking that!)

I can tell he is grinding his teeth again. It keeps him from yelling but makes his words tense and strained, “I will be fine, Katara.”

My voice is the most clear, spookily serene thing. And yet it cuts among the chaos: “I don’t believe you.”

There isn’t real silence, there can’t be with something even worse than a hailstorm approaching and the screams harrowing our ears. But neither of us speaks; I don’t believe him – he does not believe himself. He knows he won’t be fine, he only wants me to care a bit less...

… And I don’t want to.

He groans, his eyes shutting close and grimacing in exasperation. “Katara, you have to leave. You will get hurt.”

“What if you get hurt? Alone? Buried in the snow?”

“I am a firebender. I shall be fine.”

“That’s exactly my point! A firebender, not an earthbender. You haven’t mastered the four elements, how are you supposed to deal with an avalanche?”

“I will figure it out– ”

“Along the way? Yeah, I heard it before.”

He groans, again.

“I don’t like this, Zuko.” I say, trying for him to get it. “Didn’t you learn anything from the South Pole? With Zhao? Nearly all of us died! And because that wasn’t bad enough, you decided to ‘jump head to the danger’ then too! Why are you being like this?”

Because I don’t want you to get hurt!” he snaps back much fiercer. “Of course I remember the South Pole because it was my fault! The raid, Zhao, the shooting; all of it was my fault, and it was my fault that he almost did something worse to you! And this is my fault now! Why can’t you see that I just want to protect you– ”

He cuts himself off, both of his golden eyes are wide open in astonishment. They stare directly at my face, lost.

Another great quake throws me off balance. He catches me when I fall against his chest.

“Katara!” Sokka calls for me.

He and Aang keep trying to calm everyone down and (hopefully) convince them to escape this nightmare. If we don’t, he’ll get buried, too...

I have to make sure that doesn’t happen.

I glance at Zuko one last time, but I have to go help my brother.

 

 

Zuko

The sight of Katara running away is fuzzy, surreal. Everything feels like I am trapped in a dream-like state and I have no control over what I am doing or saying.

Druk awakens me waving his tail in front of my face, growling impatiently; the first thing I register is the noise of the rocks rolling closer. The landslide is too broad, it is coming from all the mountains enclosing the campground for the shape my earthquake took…

“Druk, get us to the mountain in the west,” I throw myself up to his back.

The wind feels strange as we fly, as if we were slicing the night sky like fabric, revealing a much darker layer beneath. It is thicker than at the South Pole, however drier, which makes it pass as warmer and harsher. It rasps my skin.

Thinking about the South Pole reminds me of what I said to Katara just now…

I… I… I could have meant that as a general ‘you’, right? (Right?) Like… a ‘you’ for enclosing her, and the Air Nomads, and Sokka, and Aang, and everybody – because I am worried about everybody! I am! Why else would I be flying straight to a massive avalanche without even the remotest idea of what I am doing? Oh, wait…

That… doesn’t sound like it could be of much help.

Druk grunts.

Of course I thought this through,” I answer him, “I am… polishing the details.”

He doesn’t sound convinced.

We arrive at the mountain, slightly higher than at its feet. The debris is much bigger than what it looked like from the ground.

“Druk, breathe some fire!” I command. “As much as you can! As big as you can!”

He obeys and his jaws open massively, letting out an inferno on its own. I have to cover my eyes to not get blinded. The heat burns my forearm beneath my sleeve; I am sweating and already dehydrated, breathing hot sparks. It takes me a few blinks to get used to the light. Druk’s fire hits directly against the rubble, producing a huge, yellowy screen that melts the snow, instantly evaporating it.

“Keep that up!” I tell him. And then I expand the fire.

I make it wider, linear and rounded, following the circle of four different avalanches coming from four different mountains. The snow succumbs and transforms into warm steam, the clash of temperatures makes me shiver. Everything is cloudy, but at least I solved one of two issues.

“Okay, now I just have to take care of the rocks.”

The ones that are still coming and now scalding and solider because of the fire.

 

***

 

Sokka

“Could you all – ” (Screams.)

“Could you – ” (More screams.)

“Could – ” (More screams.)

Ugh!” I turn to Aang and Katara, watching the Air Nomads panic-running around us, in front of us – everywhere. “Do you have any experience on calming masses?”

I did, back at home,” Katara reminds me, “But I don’t think these people will listen to me after everything that has happened.”

“What about you, Aang?” I ask him. “You’re a local.”

“Great idea!” (He does have some weird enthusiasm.)

With another one of his airbending craziness, he projects himself to stand on a pile of fallen tents and… I don’t know, whatever it is under them. The point is that it gives him a podium:

“Attention, everybody! My new friends and I – ”

“Shut up, you’re the one that brought the foreigners!”

And then a visible airbending ball hits him right on the forehead. He falls back. (For the clanging, I guess the tents fell on top of something metal.)

Katara gasps sharply. “Who the heck threw that? C’mon, I just want to talk – ”

I grab her shoulder before she goes on full rampage. “Katara, we’re trying to pass as peace-inducing!”

“That wasn’t very peaceful!”

“It’s okay, Katara,” Aang gets to his feet by himself, “I kinda of understand them, they haven’t dealt with foreigners in… their lives. And maybe I’m the one that’s too confident. It’s difficult for them to trust.”

“Well, as of now, trusting is their only option,” Katara says before taking up Aang’s former podium.

She whistles.

“Everybody!” (Great, she’s in her bossy mode! People always do what she says when she’s in her bossy mode!) “We know we haven’t gotten the best first impression of each other, and that we have already broken your rules, but my brother has repeated time and again that there’s a natural disaster happening, and we have to work together to survive it.”

“You sure you don’t worry more about surviving yourselves?” someone yells from the crowd. “That must be the reason why you’re travelling with a firebender!”

A wave of affirmative noises flows, and Katara scowls. (Oh-oh!) But she breathes, calms down. (Yes!)

“We have already admitted that we have broken your rules,” she responds, “and for that we are sorry. We truly are. And as soon as this is over, we will leave to never come back. But now I’m telling you that times have changed. When the world is so much of a scary place that you have to hide yourself, you have to rely on the people that want to help you to confront and defeat that fear. Give us this chance to show you that you can trust the people from the other nations. We value you. In fact, we won’t leave until we ensure each and every one of you is safe and sound!”

Whoa, little sis! That was harsh!

And effective. Even while their faces and their stares remain reluctant and distrustful, the crowd of Air Nomads is giving the tiniest bittiest of a collective nod. I count that as win!

“So what do we do?”

My eyes go to the bison stables.

“The bisons. How many people can each of them lift?” I ask.

Aang is the one that answers: “Around six or seven, depending on the age and the size of the bison.”

“Okay then.” I do as much of a quick headcount as I can. “Go get supplies. Just the necessary, food and clothes. There’s a pretty good chance you might have to start from zero at yet another location.”

“I can help with that!” Aang takes his staff once more. “Appa!”

Appa comes like a magic humongous fuzz raining from the sky and Aang twirls his staff to create a gust of wind flying close to the ground and in the direction of the boxes of food that used to be covered by one of the tents that fell down. He does the same, but pointing to a cluster of cloth next.

The first ones to land on Appa’s back are the boxes, they raise from the ground and Aang’s air takes them to rest squarely – (no pun intended) – on their feet. The cloth takes its sweet time falling delicately until it touches the top of the packages.

“Ready!” He beams.

(I didn’t even have time to blink during all of that!) “Okay,” I say.

Then I turn to the crowd. “That settled, form groups of exactly six and go for a flying bison. Parents, don’t lose sight of your children. But remember, you have to move fast. Now, go!”

They do as soon as I clap my hands, the adults take the kids too young to move as quickly as we need in their arms and rush to the stables.

“That was some real chief-like attitude, big brother!” Katara jumps down from her improvised stage.

I smirk, pretending it’s no biggie – which it is. “Yeah, I know, sis.”

She rolls her eyes.

“And you know, Aang,” I tell the little guy, “For a vegetarian, you’re quite a good bender.”

“Thank you! Now, you two climb on Appa. I think he can manage to carry the three of us despite the weight he already has.”

Momo flies to his head. “Sorry. The four of us.”

Katara and I do as he tells us, and Aang is the one that takes Appa’s leashes just as the other Air Nomads come closer to us with their own bisons.

“Follow our lead,” I announce, “We’ll get somewhere away from here.”

“Appa, yip-yip!”

The bisons rise in a stair-like arrangement, the air is dry for the climate…

Maybe because the avalanche (err, avalanches) set themselves on fire!

 “Whoa!” Each and every one of us (Katara, Aang, me, all the remaining Air Nomads) duck out of impulse. It’s like a huge fire circle spread around the mountains, it’s getting rid of the snow.

“It’s Zuko!” Katara says, staring at the largest mountain in the west. The one that has a great fire barrier dividing it in half. “He’s melting the snow.”

This is what he was about?” I say. (For how high we are, I can’t see him.) (It’s even hard to spot Druk, you can imagine our altitude!)

“We have to go for him!” she states.

“Didn’t he say for us to forget about him and get everyone out?” I reply, indifferently.

“We are going for him!” she reaffirms, glaring like she’s close to bare her teeth.

I sigh. “Fine.”

She is the one to announce our departure. “All of you wait here while we go get our friend. Aang, go in direction to that mountain.”

“Going, my lady!”

The wind hits the three of us in the face as we descend.

 

***

Zuko

The rocks are sharper now. They are far more hurtful.

It will be painful.

Nothing!

It isn’t enough, I need something else! (Why the hell isn’t the awareness that I am on first row to receive an avalanche enough?)

I growl, taking off my coat. I let out my right arm through one sleeve; both of my forearms still have the bandages for the other crusades I have had until now, but the upper part of it is untouched. Vulnerable.

I cast a fire dagger with my left hand. Fear tightens my stomach.

I kill it.

“Druk, don’t be scared, okay?” I say.

This is nothing. Honestly.

I shove the dagger into my bare shoulder.

 

Katara

Ah!

“Did you hear something?” I turn to Sokka.

“Aside from the sound of the trail of rocks that we are going to unwelcomely interrupt in their way down… no, not really.”

I don’t bother answering him.

But I did hear something. It sounded like a scream.

 

Zuko

Sharp!

It burns!

My hold on the fire becomes weak, the blazes turn red for lack of oxygen, but I still push them down my shoulder. The dagger is chewing my skin!

Just a bit more…

Scalding tears boil my eyes, the prolonged scream is wrenching my throat, my whole body is twisting in pain – but it worked.

The power awakens.

 

Katara

It’s not that the time stops – (it doesn’t, really) – but there’s a real marked then and now.

The flames went down a while ago as we came down but, in a blink, they were no longer blazes what circled the mountains, they were humungous earth platforms growing like staircases from the four hills surrounding the village.

Their size truly is immeasurable, they are big, ample and thick enough to halt and carry all the debris coming from the crumbled peaks.

Aang, Sokka and I reel back. “Whoa!” (Again.)

It’s not only that they stop the rubbish, they move it. The stages roll up the mountains taking the rocks to their starting point. And fast, like they were all feathers instead of solid ground!

My jaw drops.

“Monkeyfeathers!” Aang exclaims. “He really is the Avatar, huh?”

“You mean Zuko is the one that’s doing that?” Sokka wonders.

“Well, what other explanation could there be?” I say.

“But how– ”

“It must be his Avatar Spirit,” I mutter, not as much as a reply; it’s more like an absent observation while I look at the main mountain. “He only gets to bend something other than fire when it is activated.”

“But… doesn’t that only happens when he is about to die?”

I exchange a look with my brother.

“Aang, you have to get us there faster!” I tell him.

As he drives us, I watch the earth boards continue their way up, putting the avalanche in reverse. When they get to the tops, the latter open themselves into rather small, individual cavities. The platforms cut themselves to fit through, inserting themselves in them, depositing and saving the debris inside the mountain.

The apertures close, leaving no trace they once existed.

We finally arrive at the height where the fire first came from. My eyes shoot all over the place, frenetic. “Where is he?”

Druk is the one that comes to get us; he is whining.

I don’t wait to see if Aang and Sokka come after me when I follow him to a spot with enduring snow.

“Zuko!” I kneel next to him, the closer I can get to his right arm, which Druk is nuzzling and licking.

His coat is off as he lays over the ground, his upper arm directly touching the snow, and his fingers clutching to it so tight it looks like they could leave bruises.

“You guys came for me after all,” he sounds… too far gone to care if that sounded semi-happy.

“Zuko, that was amazing!” Aang comes and kneels, too, with his everlasting smile.

You did that?” Sokka asks, sitting next to us and hooking a thumb to the perfectly normal and harmless mountains.

“Yeah,” every word that Zuko says comes as an exhausted gasp. “You could say that.”

“What happened that left you like this?” I say.

Druk rubs his nose against Zuko’s right shoulder as if insisting for him to take his hand off from it. He does… hesitantly. Slowly.

Bit by bit, revealing a wound that somehow is a cut and a burn (the two combined) coursing down his bicep. Whatever it is though, his arm is wrecked open by it.

“Oh, my Spirits!”

Ironically, that came from Sokka and Aang – before they faint.

 

***

 

Zuko

I seriously hope my teeth don’t leave permanent marks on the sleeve of my coat, my screams come out muffled as I bite it.

“You know, I’m starting to think you just have a pain kink,” Sokka doesn’t seem very concerned about me while he snoops around the tent the Air Nomads raised for us. “Not that I am judging, but…”

“Shut up and bring me some more Chaang!” I snap at him. I need something to help me fight the pain.

No!” Katara accentuates, applying some more Air Nomad medicine at the borders of my arm’s wound. (It is a heated oil called Tza-chug.) (Heated. Oil!) “I certainly don’t need you injured and drunk!”

“You sure you don’t want some Raksi?” Sokka queries as if his sister didn’t even speak. “I heard it is a bit stronger…”

“Sokka!” she reprimands.

And that it has antiseptic properties,” he finalizes.

“I think we’re just fine with the Tza-chug and this medicated bath, thank you very much.” She continues applying the oil around the edges of skin and washes the inside of the cut with the water of the tub into which I am bathing. (Not with all of my clothes off, if you are wondering.)

It was a suggestion from the Air Nomads part once we arrived back at their village since it wasn’t… under any immediate threat anymore. They arranged a tent to enclose a bathtub – it is not really any different from the other ones, they don’t live in small tents; it is medium-sized, enough for a person to reside, I suppose – and prepared me a bath with savine leaves, cypress branches, and other herbs that I didn’t recognize. They said it would purify my blood and promote its course which I needed for the cut, and recover the function on my useless arm.

Katara returns it into the tub. I can’t move it by myself, the pain is too much.

I feel so pathetic! I can’t even move my own arm, I had to remove my other bandages and take off my shirt for the bath and now my scars are showing making me look like the helpless deformed freak that I am; and, to make matters worse, Katara and Sokka just fucking refuse to leave my side no matter what! Why can’t they just leave me alone?

“Splash some more water on your back,” Katara’s voice is way too gentle for the situation as she carefully pushes me to unglue my aching back from the tub’s walls, pouring the water herself, “Your bruises need some ‘blood flow help’, too.”

“Thanks,” I say nearly without intending to when she lets go of me. “How is Aang?”

“Last that I checked, he was still asleep,” Sokka clarifies, “It makes sense, that injury really shook him.”

“Just like it shook you?” I deadpan.

“Hey, at least I made a plan where nobody ended with their flesh teared open!” he snaps.

“It is not tear open,” I grind out, “I made sure to not cut any veins or blood vessels.”

“Oh, how reassuring of you, your Avatarness!” he counters, “‘I butchered myself but nothing vital’. I didn’t see anyone get butchered at all with my plan.”

“That is because none of you had to get into the Avatar State to stop the avalanche!”

“The Avatar what?” he arches an eyebrow, looking more curious than angry.

“The Avatar State,” I repeat, a bit calmer (anger makes my muscles to tense, increasing the ache), “When I was… like that, I somehow… knew things that the other Avatars knew. I had their memories. They called the whole thing with the glowing eyes ‘The Avatar State’.”

He considers this. “The Avatar State… It sounds good,” he concludes. “But that aside, was it totally necessary that you stabbed yourself for that?”

“So far, it has only activated to preserve my body when it is in danger, right? What other option did I have?”

“Coming with us so nobody would have had to bleed to death!”

“I didn’t– ”

“I don’t fucking care what you did or what you didn’t!” he squeals. “Or actually, I do because what you did was prove me right, and as satisfying as that is, I would have preferred it if nobody had bled in the process!”

“Why do you even care?” I growl.

Katara explodes: “Because we are a team, Zuko!

She has been angry all along, ever since she first found me. I could see that, I could feel it in the way she touched me, but she just kept treating my injuries and insisted on staying with me – (I don’t understand why) – but now she is livid. 

“Intertwined destines, remember?” she says. “We are supposed to work together. You don’t leave us in the dark to get yourself killed while we worry sick for you – You don’t leave us, period. Not if you want us to stick around. There are two very clear sides of this: either we are with you… or we are not.”

I don’t get a chance to answer before the aperture of the tent opens:

“Am I interrupting anything?” Monk Gyatso glances at the three of us in a row.

Sokka, Katara and I exchange a three way look; our three voices pronounce a collective “No.”

Monk Gyatso’s nod is not exactly convinced, but he proceeds: “I just came to thank the three of you for saving our village, and for taking care of my young pupil. I have never seen Aang with this level of fondness for anyone.”

I stutter. “We… um…”

“It was nothing,” Sokka catches me.

“Oh, it was a lot,” Monk Gyatso reassures, before turning to me: “It might not seem like it, but the village is thankful to you, young Avatar Zuko.”

“I… I don’t deserve those thanks,” I say, “I’m the one that provoked the avalanche and – ”

“According to what has been testified to me, you were acting in self-defense, and trying to reach for your friends,” he debates.

“Yes, but I… I…”

“Zuko, just take the compliment,” Sokka presses.

“Right. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Gyatso assures with an easy smile. “I must say I’m quite surprised to meet the current Avatar. Aang certainly has a good eye for choosing his friends.” He chuckles. “And I’ve been meaning to ask, what brings you around the Southern Air Nomads parts?”

Katara explains him: “We came to visit the Southern Air Temple to see if there was anything that could help Zuko learn airbending.”

Points to Gyatso for not even flinching at the revelation that I am an untrained Avatar: “Oh, so you are looking for a teacher.”

“You could say,” I mumble.

“I hope you don’t believe that I am overstepping,” he excuses himself, as if embarrassed, “but I would be honored to become your airbending master.”

What?” (That was very clear despite the fact that Sokka, Katara and I spoke at the same time once more.)

Sokka accidentally tumbles down some other cups of medicine, and the water from my bath splashes everywhere for how brusquely I move. Katara comes steady me before I slip and dip my own head into the water.

“Or let me correct myself, Aang and I would be honored to be your airbending masters,” Gyatso keeps going as if he didn’t see or hear anything, “He and I are very close, and he’s the best young airbender around.”

“You want to teach me?” I push the astonished words through coughs of water.

“Of course! You and your friends are more than welcome to stay at the village until your training is done.”

“Um… I don’t think we have the best relationship with one of the Council of Elders already.”

“I assure you Monk Tashi has been severely chastised for his actions,” Gyatso holds a hand as if to stop me from declining. “And I may have insisted slightly too hard, enough for him to begrudgingly agree with my request. The Avatar is the one destined to bring balance to the world.”

My teeth click. “Right.”

“Then it is settled!” He claps his hands. “This will be your new tent, I already arranged for your luggage to be brought here,” he opens the entrance of the tent further to show my bags already outside.

My eyes grow. “Where did you– ”

“I took it out from your dragon’s seat – he is now resting with the bisons at their stables – Katara’s and Sokka’s are in their own, newly arranged tents at each side of this one.”

They exchange a look between each other, and go peek outside.

“Holy Spirits, it’s true!”

“You all better go get some rest,” Gyatso advices. “It’s been a long night.”

“You could say that again, Mister Monk.” Sokka’s the first one to get out towards his tent.

“Sokka!” Katara huffs, and apologizes to Gyatso. “I’m sorry, my brother’s manners are awful.”

“It’s okay, young lady. Your tent is the one at the left side, by the way, I hope it is of your taste. Beautiful and helpful ladies deserve only the best.”

Katara smiles indulgently, but it vanishes once she glances at me. My stomach tightens once more, but this time with a different feeling. A different fear.

“Maybe I should stay to keep taking care of Zuko– ”

“No,” I interrupt her, “It is okay, Katara. I have all the medicines and the medical supplies here and my injuries are already better, I will take care of them by myself.”

She hesitates. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” No.

Her nod is curt. “Okay. Good night.”

“Good night,” I say at the empty spot after she exits.

Gyatso is being too kind by pretending he doesn’t see or hear a thing. “I will leave your bags here, Avatar Zuko,” he gets them inside. “Have a good night!”

“Good night,” I tell the empty tent.

 

***

 

Should I get rid of all of these? Everything in my bag is clearly Fire Nation. I am not sure what I was thinking when I first packed up, it feels like it was too long ago – because it was, it was a hundred years ago… but I remember I loved my country.

I was sad that I had to leave, I wanted to carry things that would reminisce me of it. And now… Mostly, I only packed clothes, and for what I have learned, these won’t make me look like the most trustworthy Avatar.

I have never been the most trustworthy anything, but I don’t want to be… what… what I saw in the Air Nomads eyes when they looked at me. I don’t want to be that terror. I am not

‘But you are.’

Shut up, Dad!

My hands fly to my head, I am alone.

I am alone, I am alone, I am alone.

The thought doesn’t calm me, it gives me nausea. I am alone; no father, no mother, no brother, no master, no country.

‘You are the one that drove them away. They abandoned you.’

No, they didn’t – they wouldn’t. You lied to me.

‘Did I? You sure you didn’t want this, this world that you created?’

No! I didn’t do this, I am not like this – You can’t turn me into this, you can’t turn me into you!

Without noticing, my fist crashes against the bag. Everything is red and black. There are Fire Nation flags and gears, red like my own blood. I do come from that… but I… I…

“Hey, Zuko. Are you busy?” Aang’s head glimpses inside my tent.

I blink. “Oh, hey, Aang!” I try to push everything into the bag. “Um, no. What’s up?”

He steps inside and kneels on the floor in front of me.

“You already bandaged your injury,” he observes, pointing at the binding surrounding my left bicep.

“Yes…” I say, reaching to cover it, “How you feeling, though? Last that I heard you were still asleep.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, I always faint when I see blood. Anyway, I came to thank you personally for… you know… saving my life and everyone.”

“I didn’t…”

“You were amazing tonight!” he continues, it almost seems like he didn’t hear me. “All the rocks were coming and you went right to get them and then you made that huge fire and then those earth stages,” he keeps making some pronounced, effusive gestures with his arms as he speaks, “And you were just… Whoa! You’re my hero!”

I freeze.

Aang’s eyes really are sparkling while they look at me. They are looking at me directly, face to face, up-close, and they are truly lighted up with hope and admiration. (He has a weird eye color, they are gray with hazel and brown touches at the edges.)

I can’t be that bad if someone like him doesn’t fear me, right? If someone like him can think of me that way…

Right?

 

Gyatso

I read once more the letter in my hands with the Southern Water Tribe symbol:

阿凡達回來了

“The Avatar has returned.”

The ink of my answer saws through the paper, the words read themselves decisive:

阿凡達到了

“The Avatar has arrived.”

Notes:

[1] Tza-chug: Is a treatment in Tibetan Medicine that has been used for thousands of years. It consists in natural oils combined with different herbs including turmeric and ginger and then heated for then being applied to the affected area of the body. It helps to relieve nerve pain and symptoms of skeletal-muscular injuries.

[2] Raksi: A traditional distilled alcoholic beverage. A strong drink, clear like vodka or gin.

[3] Medicated Bath: The most popular therapeutic of Tibetan Medicine. Tibetan Medicine is deeply linked to Tibetan Buddhism and for that it holds the concept of the Four Noble Truths (to know the true nature of suffering; to know the true cause of suffering; to know the true end of suffering; to know the true path to end suffering.) According to the Second Truth by Lord Buddha, the true causes of suffering are the three poisons of mind Desire, Hatred, and Resistance to the Truth; which cause imbalance in the three biochemical humors of the body Loong, Tripa and Begen (Wind, Bile, Phlegm) and the imbalance leads to disorders and diseases. The Medicated Bath helps to dispel Phlegm once it has been disturbed by Resistance to the Truth, and promotes blood circulation by removing blood stasis.

[4] Tibetan Medicated bath is mainly based on savine leaves, cypress branches, Chinese ephedra, yellow cuckoo and wormwood, supplemented with more than 30 kinds of rare medical materials. It works to purify blood, soften connective tissues, recover the function of joints and improve immunity.

Chapter 15: Chapter 十四: White Jasmine and Red Rose

Notes:

Start operation demisexual!Zuko :-)

Chapter Text

Zuko

It is hard to recount what I remember from that day, everything comes to my mind like a very vivid fantasy. If I reached out and touched it, it would not be real.

Except for the walls of the Agni Kai Chamber. I recall them solid, deep garnet red; darkened for the dimness in the hall. They were surrounded by dark shadows…

It is strange, I remember the chamber to be big but I can only picture it like a small box, suffocatingly so. With golden accoutrements to accentuate the irony. The only lights were the ones of the torches. And then from the fire –

“What the – ” I wake up with a start at the… explosion of a Tsugi Horn, apparently!

I don’t bother putting on a shirt for going to see what in the name of Agni is happening outside!

“What the actual hell!” Sokka and Katara don’t look very happy about being woken by it either. Both are wearing their undergarments, Katara wraps herself in a blanket to come outside. Her hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders…

“Good morning, my young Avatar pupil!” I nearly yelp at Gyatso’s voice!

Aang is right next to him playing – trying to play – a Tsugi Horn. Gyatso gestures for him to cut it out.

“It is time to start your airbending training,” Gyatso indicates. He is calm and cheery before my outraged stare.

“And couldn’t you wake him alone for that?” Sokka demands. “Don’t you see that I get eye bags when I don’t get enough sleep?”

And he makes a big deal out of pointing at them for emphasizing; they are like real dark bags filled with only Agni knows what. Aang, Katara and I cringe at the view.

“I assure you that it will be the most beneficial if all four of you are present for the training.” (What is it with Gyatso and his permanent… whatever it is that he is so calm is infuriating!) “Go get ready for breakfast, Aang will be the one to get you to the training area afterward.”

And he leaves without further announcement, his steps are unearthly graceful.

“Good morning, friends!” Aang greets us. “Sorry for waking you up like that, I’m terrible with the Tsugi Horn.”

Sokka is still irate: “And then why did you start playing in the first place?”

Katara stomps on her brother’s foot. “What Sokka meant, Aang, is that with practice, you’ll get better!”

“Really?” (Ugh! It is way too early for his sparkly eyes!) “I’ll practice every day so I can dedicate you a song, Katara!”

He attempts to start right on the spot; I cover the horn’s mouthpiece with my bare hand.

“Great, but can you practice far, far away from here?” I request.

The memory of the torture of a concert that he gave is still fresh in all of our memories, his included. “Right. I’ll see you after breakfast, I’ll go meet you in the dining area. You guys are still guests, so don’t worry, everybody will be more than happy to serve you your meal.”

I doubt it.

Aang leaves – taking some much-appreciated distance before resuming his Tsugi Horn practice – and Sokka drags his feet back to his tent, growling.

Katara stays outside with me, though not looking any less sleepy. She yawns. “Hey, you, you,” her finger pokes at my side, “How are your injuries doing?”

I start pulling the bandage on my right bicep down, but Katara is impatient to see: she steps closer to me, pushing herself up on the tips of her toes, and holding on to my arm for support. She peeks at what is visible of the wound from over the border of the white fabric and I shudder faintly at her proximity.

“It still needs treatment,” she observes, oblivious to my mild freak-out, and lets go of my arm to step back. “Last night we used all of the Tza-chug, so I asked for some more before I went to sleep. Go wait for me inside your tent while I look for it.”

Now she does leave. It takes me some time to process what just happened before entering my tent.

Should I try to order the inside a bit better before she comes? Oh, Spirits, last night I put too many Fire Nation regalia around, should I put it down? It probably will make Katara feel uncomfortable. Do I even have time to put it all down before she gets here? How much time do I have again?

“Zuko?”

Not much.

“Yeah, come in!” I say at the time I rip down the Fire Nation flag I hanged and use it as a sac for other figurines and portraits. I push it all behind one of my bags.

Katara steps insides… still in her sarashi, and now without the blanket covering her.

I gulp.

She is carrying that anger I perceived last night, ignoring me. Maybe it is stronger this time since I didn’t give an answer about any of us being a team. (What is exactly a team anyway? I never needed a team for anything.)

“C’mon, sit down,” her voice snaps me back to reality, “It’s better if you’re not tensed up.”

I go to sit on my sleeping mat.

Katara kneels in front of me, bringing two vials and more cloth to serve as bandages. She unwraps the used ones from my arms herself.

“I also saved some of the water from the medicated bath to wash the cut and keep helping your blood flow,” she says. “Just relax.”

I am… trying.

Katara has to continuously lean closer to reach for the stab at my upper arm, her hot breath crashes against my collarbone when she does so. Her hands travel through my arms to wash my still-healing burns, too; her fingers flutter over my palms. Then she circles to put some water over the bruises on my back.

My hands are shaking. Why are they shaking?

“Geez, Zuko. Calm down, I’m not going to jump you.”

I freeze.

“You… You noticed?” I ask.

“It’d kinda hard not to,” she circles back to in front of me, “After I told you to relax but you got anxious and shivery. But I’m surprised,” her tone becomes sarcastically delicate, “I supposed you’d be an expert with girls.”

What? I scoff. “Why… Why would you think that?” (My breath is coming out in heavy puffs, I don’t know if I am trying to laugh or just breathe.) “Who do you take me for? I… I am a gentleman.”

Her answer is to lean forward with a mischievous smirk on her face. “Is that so?...”

I reel back.

It is her turn to scoff, yet it sounds much more natural and laid-back than me. “You’re such a prude.”

“I am not! I just… I just…”

“Whatever.” She is back to ignoring me.

A weird uneasiness twists inside me. It is…

Even though she is touching me, she is afar, isolated. Her eyes are off, dim; and her expression is stony. I can’t tell if this that I feel is a need to fix it, or the guilt over being the one that caused it. Perhaps both of them, perhaps the reason why I want to fix it is only that I feel guilty. But no, that is not it. I do want to solve this – to… to make Katara not be angry at me anymore – and I do feel guilty for angering her, but also I…

“Katara…”

“I’m so mad at you!” she snaps.

“Okay.”

We stare at each for a long moment after that, Katara frowning directly at my face and me trying to figure out what to say next.

She beats me at that; she is fuming: “Do you have any idea how worried I was last night? How worried I am every time you go off without telling any of us what are you gonna do, if you have a plan or you simply are going to throw some fire and wait for the best? You don’t! And I wouldn’t want you to know because it is horrible! I feel physically sick, Zuko, when I see you jump ‘head first to the danger’!” she repeats Sokka’s words from last night. “And I really, really, really hate you when you do that because I care! I care about what happens to you!”

“So it makes me hate you more when you cause unnecessary damage to yourself on top of everything!” she proceeds, “Never do that again, okay? Never. Promise you’ll never do it again!”   

Her eyes are boiling with fury. A shadow of lightning courses through her face wild, indomitable, and igniting thousands of different feelings at once.

The only thing that wakes from my shock is my voice, while my eyes remain fixed on hers. “I promise.”

Katara does not back down from her irate stance just immediately, it is slow like she was freeing herself from being caged into stone; it is rigid, but charged with real strength. When she returns to herself, there is no longer lightning in her face, only sunbeam. She irradiates light.

“Well, I’m glad that we settled that.” She timidly brushes back a strand of her hair, “Sorry if I was too harsh, I worry a lot.”

“No, no, I… I understand.” (I don’t. Nobody had ever gotten angry on my behalf!)

“We better get ready for breakfast,” she goes on to put on new bindings over my arms, “You need to eat well and be prepared for your training.”

When she is done, she stands, taking the vials with her. “See you there.”

I watch her exit the tent. And as soon as she does I let myself fall back on the mat exhausted.

Am I attracted to Katara?

I don’t think that I am. Shouldn’t I feel different if I was attracted to her? Azulon used to make fun of me for not being interested in girls in that way.

Am I interested in Katara in that way?

I mean, objectively speaking, Katara is… she is… nice to look at – I mean, her… her features are… they blend nicely with each other – I mean…

I growl. Close my eyes, pass a hand down my face; I picture Katara just a moment ago. She reminded me of the sun – the sun, of all things – because she glows, and she is warm, and because her hair and her skin shine golden under the light.

Objectively speaking… there aren’t reasons for me to not be attracted to her. But does that mean I am?

“Zuko!”

“Coming,” I say.

I incessantly shake my head as I dress up. That is impossible, I think.

That is impossible.

 

***

 

Katara

Tell me he isn’t chewing with an open mouth, tell me he isn’t chewing with an open mouth, tell me he isn’t chewing with an open mouth.

I glance from beneath my ungloved hands covering my unflatteringly flushed face; Sokka is chewing with an open mouth. Urgh!

The girls that served us our breakfast observe in equal dismay each, although disgust grows gradually between the three of them from the one on my right to the one on my left and directly facing Sokka; she’s utterly repulsed. I give an apologetic look at all of them, I swear I did my best to teach him manners.

“Uh… We…” one of them – the one in the middle facing me – stutters, “We better leave you to finish your meal alone. Enjoy!”

They quite literally run off and my face falls to my hands again. (How am I supposed to make new friends if my brother keeps embarrassing me like this?)

(My brother, who is incapable of taking a hint!) “Was it my cologne?”

I glare at him, but my head spins to Zuko’s voice before I can mutter an answer – (if a comment like Sokka’s deserves one.)

“Yes, Sokka, it sure was that,” he assures mockingly.

“I thought so. Girls are weird.”

“Excuse me?” I nearly shriek. “Would it kill you to spend two minutes without insulting girls?”

“It’s not insulting, it’s just straight facts. Girls make a big fuss over nothing, guys are easier to understand. Right, Zuko?”

“In the Fire Nation we respect women, Sokka,” Zuko says like the words came as natural to him as breathing, “We don’t talk that way about them.”

“Really?” I gape. (It’s not that I’m not glad but… Really?)

“Really?” Sokka parrots. “Then how the hell you guys are so ahead in the war?”

I punch him on his shoulder.

Ouch!

“Did you just said ouch over the hit of a girl?”

He pffts. “Of course not. That’s… That’s just my bad shoulder.”

You don’t have a ‘bad shoulder’. “Then should I try on your good shoulder?”

His answer is panicky. “No!

Zuko laughs.

“What are you laughing about?” Sokka scowls.

“The accuracy of your knowledge in girls.”

Sokka takes another huge bite of Chetang Goiche – there are only so many things he’s willing to eat considering Air Nomad’s customary vegetarianism. “Oh, and…” (chews) “and I’m supposed to assume…” (chews) “that you are what, an expert in girls?”

“Oh, no, Sokka,” I tell him. “You’re right to not make that assumption.”

Zuko wasn’t acting very expertly earlier and, for the look on his face, he remembers quite well. For the grin on my face, I make sure he knows I remember, too.

“Zuko’s a gentleman,” I say, echoing said gentleman’s words from before, and returning his stare. “Right, Zuko?”

He says nothing, only watches me smile back; his stare slowly, but almost imperceptibly, turns from unamused to contemplating, studying me. A little too softly, like he was roaming and memorizing all of my features even if as far as I can see his eyes never go anywhere away from mine.

His tunnel vision is focused directly on me.

Somebody clears their throat. It’s Sokka – Sokka, my big brother, whose eyes are shooting back and forth between Zuko and me.

I barely get to register the heat on my cheeks before whipping my head away. Zuko and I mumble something incoherent apologizing for… whatever it was that we were doing – not that we were doing anything!

Aaaaaaaanywayssssssssssss…” Sokka stretches exaggeratedly, “You sure you can handle airbending training with a chopped arm, fiery boy?”

Zuko glowers, his words come out rage-charged. “It is not…” He stops himself, inhales. “I will be fine. I already recovered the mobility, and the medicine is acting properly.”

“Shouldn’t you eat some more before the training?” I ask, eyeing his unfinished meal.

“It is better if I don’t stuff myself too much, I don’t know what kind of workout Gyatso has in mind.”

Sokka chips in: “You mean I can finish that for you?”

My sigh and Zuko’s eye-roll appear synchronized. “Sure, why not?” he passes Sokka the plate.

“Are you sure you don’t need to eat?” I press.

“Don’t worry about that. In any case, my regular workout consists of small meals.”

My eyes glide down to his arms. You don’t say

Whatever push-ups form part of his regular workout are giving fruits, I can notice since he is not wearing his coat today, his sleeveless shirt discovers his arms… and the binds hide his injuries.

Our conversation this morning did quieten the anger I’d been feeling since last night, I thought it would make me feel better right after.

It hadn’t, not much.

The anger didn’t quite leave, it only mixed with guilt, making it heavy and hurtful. How crazily stupid can he be to cause himself that much damage? How crazily stupid can I be to not have done something more to stop him last night? In the Water Tribe, I always take care of everyone, no one ever gets hurt. What on Earth happened to me this time? It’s a miracle Zuko’s arms are still functioning!

His skin is very pale, it’s almost indistinguishable from the white cloth around his muscles. (Perhaps only a bit rosier?)

“Hey, aren’t those Aang and the kids that always mess with him?”

Zuko and I follow the direction to which Sokka’s pointing, they are Aang and the kids that always mess with him. None of them looks happy, but for different reasons, and it makes my blood boil.

Surprisingly, Zuko is faster than me: “Let’s go say hi real quick.”

He launches himself to go to them, and it takes me a moment to pass the daze and follow. Sokka takes longer trying to recollect all the food we left behind.

The Air Nomads gather to eat out in the open, around separated small bonfires for preparing the tea and heating the food when needed, in enough of a clear area for it to not be so much of a secret when you bully someone – surely for it to not be a good idea to do so when his friends are around.

“Are you sure Monk Gyatso doesn’t want you in the training only for kicking you out of the monastery, Aang?” one of the boys mock.

The other is quick to join, “And for sending you flying along with that firebender that you brought?”

“Are you talking about me?” Zuko cuts them out placing himself in front of them and shielding Aang.

I embrace Aang in a protective hug; he doesn’t look exactly bothered by his resident bullies, just annoyed. It quickly turns into a triumphant, grateful smile once we appear.

The other Air Nomad boys sputter, somehow with their gazes frozen in Zuko, but also looking for a fast way out of this. (Typical.) “We… uh… We were…”

“Leaving?” Zuko concludes. “You were leaving?”

“Yeah! We were…”

“Then start leaving in that way.” He points to the opposite direction to where Aang, me, and now Sokka are standing behind his back. (Sokka is posing as if he was a backup thug or something.)

It’s all the mean kids need for running as swift as they can.

“Thanks for the help, guys!” Aang’s hyper, almost bouncing in his place.

Sokka wants to take credit despite his late arrival. “No worries, lil’ bud!”

“You okay, Aang?” I ask.

“Never been better! Probably because I never had you guys here before,” he’s talking too fast, it’s hard to keep track of his words. “Now, c’mon, the lesson with Gyatso is about to start! Just follow me!”

He uses his bending to create an airball that takes him into the forest at high speed, leaving us behind. Sokka begrudgingly follows. I take advantage of the sudden moment of solitude to say:

“You’re a sweet guy, Zuko.”

(He’s not convinced.) “You think?”

(But I am.) “Yes.”

 

***

 

I can’t shake off this weird feeling growing in me the farther we walk towards the training area – the one that is too far from the camp and too deep into the forest.

In perspective, I guess it could be for having more privacy and avoiding accidents, but still. There’s this energy seemingly trying to push us away and luring us in while we advance. The colors become brighter, the snow on the ground blindingly white, and the green from the scarce tree leaves and moss practically incandescent. The aura of liveliness floats in the air, too overwhelming. It doesn’t make me feel uneasy – (maybe a little) – yet it’s more like something in me rejects it. Something dark in me.

“You guys are feeling the spiritual energy already?” Aang wonders, returning and circling around Zuko, Sokka, and me with his airball.

“Spiritual energy?” I repeat, focusing more on how Aang is the only one of us that doesn’t seem affected by the atmosphere.

Sokka and Zuko keep glancing around warily, and they are slightly hunched like they are trying to hide from whatever it is that’s creeping around these woods.

“There are sacred places all over these mountains,” Aang explains, still immersed in his spinning. “This forest is one of them. Before the war, Spirits used to wander around here, and they left some of their essence behind. The monks can feel it and remain at ease because of their great spirituality, for the rest of us it takes some getting used to it.”

“You are a monk, Aang,” I insist.

“Not one at Gyatso’s level.” He gasps. “I forgot I had to take you to the training with Gyatso! Quick, follow me!”

We move forward and we keep finding trails of dispersed rocks covered by the snow, it is only when I look at the most shallowly buried ones that I see they are not ordinary rocks. They are concrete blocks forming some kind of path towards the center of the forest, to a smooth rock-formation shaping a stage where Gyatso is meditating.

The place is circled by huge tree roots and next to a construction in ruins untouched by the aura of life I was feeling; it emanates an aura of stillness instead.

“What’s this?” Sokka inquires with a newfound interest in the edifice tangled in tree branches. (I should have guessed he would ask about the creepiest thing at eyesight.)

“It is a second entrance to the Southern Air Temple,” Gyatso is the one to answer, his eyes open slowly. “It is the way our ancestors used to escape the Fire Nation when they first attacked.”

Zuko looks away. From all of us.

“Very well,” Gyatso recovers his usual, smoothly cheerful appearance as he stands, “Thanks for bringing everyone here, Aang.”

Aang continues to twirl in circles with his personal airball’s help until Gyatso uses his bending to split the air Aang’s using in a half and physically still him in place with his hands gently grabbing Aang’s shoulders.

Aang flushes, awareness lighting up his eyes. “Sorry.”

“It is alright,” Gyatso reassures. Then looks up at Zuko, “Ready for your lesson, young Avatar?”

“Shouldn’t he wear airbender clothes for this?” Sokka teases. “Like some of Aang’s mini shawls or something?”

He laughs at his own joke until Zuko flicks him on the forehead with visibly red fingers.

“Truth is, I do not want to disconnect you from your native element, Zuko,” Gyatso explains ignoring the scene, “You will need to be in close contact with yourself to master airbending.”

Zuko stays quiet for a few more seconds. “I am not looking forward to that.”

 

***

 

Now that I think about it… we should have known airbending classes would involve a whole lot of meditation.

“I am sick and tired of this!” Zuko snaps for the… third time? “When do I start with the actual training?”

“This is training,” Gyatso insists with his imperturbable voice maintaining his lotus pose, “You must reach peace of mind before mastering airbending.”

“I don’t need any peace of mind, I need to master airbending right now!”

“You could follow the example of your friend Sokka. He has been quiet since he joined our meditation session.”

Not exactly ‘quiet’; he’s snoring – has been for the past half hour.

“Well, for me it looks like he is asleep,” Zuko notes.

Gyatso opens one eye. “Really?”

“I don’t have fucking time for this!” Zuko explodes. “I am leaving!”

And he makes good on his word.

“I’m gonna talk to him,” I say already standing up. “And, for the record, Sokka is asleep.”

 

***

 

“Zuko, wait!” He has gained ground since he left the stage. “Where are you even going?”

 “I don’t know,” he snarls.

Well, thanks for your honesty. “Do you mind at least slowing down? Not all of us have firebending super-heat to melt the snow with every angry step we take.”

I watch him stop dead on his tracks before he can take another of those angry steps, (I’m sure his leather boots aren’t appreciating the humidity so far.) The good thing is that he stays there just enough for me to catch up.

Under other circumstances, it would have been sweet that he waited till I was next to him to keep walking; now, it’s just proof of his stubbornness. 

“Listen, you won’t learn any airbending throwing fits in the forest,” I say as we keep moving.

“I won’t learn any airbending just meditating either.”

“Haven’t you thought Gyatso is the master here and he is the one that knows how to do things?”

“Masters take action for their apprentices to learn.” There is the load of a memory in his phrase that I don’t know how to address, but I see Zuko’s shoulders fall struggling to carry the burden.

Something crashes; we halt and turn towards it.

Some people from the village appear to be returning from the forest carrying a bag with supplies, or trying to. The bag they were using teared itself, letting tree branches roll in all directions and wool to fall like the snow itself. Some of the branches trundle our way and Zuko picks them up – only to be stopped by the Air Nomads.

Don’t touch them!” Their irate scream is louder than the sound of the twigs hitting each other.

Zuko’s unsaid pain speaks louder than them.

“We mean…” their looks are not quite remorseful once they approach us, only soft enough to ease the biggest sting, “It’s not necessary, we got them.”

They practically rip the branches from Zuko’s arms like he was… well… about to set them on fire. I flinch.

“I’m sorry,” I say, putting a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, “My friend only wanted to help.”

“Thanks,” they say my way, giving Zuko cutting, suspicious glances. “But we are fine, honestly.”

“Are you sure? It looks like it weighs a lot.”

“Yes, we are fine.” They are still struggling to carry the branches.

I bite my lip, but quickly curve it into a smile. “Maybe it will be easier to carry if we were more people. I would like to help, too.”

They stare at me, then at Zuko, and back at me; hesitation is written all over their faces. Hesitation and distrust. (I think it’s only luck they end up agreeing.)

“Okay.”

I brighten and thank them for the chance, then I take Zuko’s hand. (I’m not exactly sure if it is for comforting him or for guiding him through this new attempt at socializing.) (Perhaps it is for keeping him from walking away again, or maybe it is for comforting myself and believe I’m truly helping him in some way.) (Even if what I’m doing is rather small.)

The Air Nomads instruct us how to carry the branches and the wool, and we take it back to the campsite. Once we arrive, they thank me. Me alone. Not Zuko.

I beam and tell them it was nothing, but apologize once I face Zuko. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” he asks, although something tells me he already knows the answer.

“I couldn’t make things easier for you.”

He is quiet for a few breathes. “Thanks for trying.”

It doesn’t take long for him to continue: “You are very good with people. I mean, in… diplomatic matters.”

I brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks, I learned it from my mother. She always knew how to treat everyone when she was Chief.”

“Your mother was Chief?” he’s surprised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you didn’t ask, Mister I-call-people-peasants-as-an-introduction,” I recall with a tiny smirk.

(Recall is the word.) (It feels like that was centuries ago.)

The memory and the distance of it pass through Zuko’s face, too, and for once he’s not willing to argue with whatever anyone says. “Fair enough, I deserved that.”

“You do, but that’s another talk,” I say. “Speaking about talk, is there… anything bothering you about airbending training?”

“You mean aside from the useless methods and the slow development?”

“Yes.”

He obviously didn’t expect so much of a straightforward reply. (What can I say? Endless sarcasm and irony are more Sokka’s thing.)

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs and tries to leave once more.

And, once more, I take his hand, this time indeed to keep him from running away. “It must be something if it is affecting you.”

“You don’t get it.”

I squeeze his hand. “Then explain it to me.”

The hesitation I saw in the Air Nomads looks different in Zuko, both came from vulnerability and an unwillingness to let it show, but Zuko looks at me like he wants to trust me and something is restraining him.

I squeeze his hand to tell him I want to know. I want to trust him, and I can’t do it if he doesn’t do the same for me.

He bites his lip. “There is… There is something I want to show you.”

 

Zuko

I take Katara back to my tent. My hand still tingles after she let go of it a while ago; I hold it to contain the trembling.

Once we arrive, she studies the rest of the tent and the luggage I already unpacked while I go look for one of my bags.

“I didn’t think you carried so much stuff,” she notices, almost in a whisper.

“They are not many,” I say, “I only took what I first found in my room back at the Palace.”

“Was your room this messy, too?” her question is joking. “It’s funny, I supposed princes would be obsessed with cleanness.”

“You could say that,” I say, roaming through more of my things, “But I was never the one that cleaned my room – or anything. The servants did it for me.”

It washes over me slowly, the unfairness that answer carries. Judging for Katara’s quiet hum, I would say she feels the wrongness in it, too.

This is what happens when I don’t second-guess what to say, I say the exact wrong thing on the first try!

Pushing the feeling away, I take out what I was looking for.

“Remember when I told you about Roku?” I ask, coming closer to Katara, eyeing the portrait in my hands.

She nods.

“These are him and my father, Sozin,” I hand her the picture.

Her hands take it carefully, and she looks down at it with an expression somewhere between indifferent and curious. But there is something more there, there is anger, real rage. And fear. (Can’t say that I blame her, I was the one who said my father – the Fire Lord who started the war, the one that killed the Air Nomads, the one that got the Water Tribe raided – was in the picture. However, it makes me wonder…) (Does she see me like him? I am the one who didn’t stop him from doing any of it.)

(What does that say about me?)

“This is Roku,” I point to him in the picture, the one with the longest beard and the widest eyes. “And this is my father,” I point to him next.

Her fingers touch his face in the painting, tracing his stony profile. Her eyes go up to me, “You don’t look like him.”

I never thought relief could feel so… startling. It is as though it crashed against me, leaving me shaking more than the lingering heat of Katara’s skin on mine. I hold my hand yet again.

“I look like my mom,” I explain, “But that is not the point. Roku and my father were close friends since they were kids, Roku was sort of an uncle-figure to me. Sometimes I called him Uncle. He used to travel a lot, visited each one of the four nations, and since I was little, he told me one day he would take me on his trips because I had never left the Fire Nation. He never got to do it, he… disappeared.”

Katara’s eyes grow shocked. “What do you mean he disappeared?”

I shrug, hiding the powerlessness I feel. “One day he was gone. He never came back.”

“Oh, Heavens! I’m so sorry, Zuko – ”

“You know what my father told me after that?” I interrupt her, replaying the memory inside my head. “He said Roku was a traitor, that Roku was the kind of person I should never become, and that I would only bring dishonor to myself – and him – if I ever turned anything like Roku. Must have been another reason why he banished me.”

Her mouth falls open, stunned silence booms through the tent.

“Remember when Zhao called me a banished prince? My father was the one who banished me from the Fire Nation. They don’t want me there.” I gesture around like I could encircle not only the Southern Air Nomad village but the rest of the world where I woke up a week ago and that hates me for thousands of different reasons. “And now I am here, and they don’t want me here either. Roku, my father, the Air Nomads, the world; I disappointed them all. I am a flawed Avatar – the one that can only bend one element, the one who didn’t save anyone, not even the ones that were close to him. I don’t have time to continue being that weak! That much coward! That much– ”

“Zuko.”

Before I get to notice – to so much as perceive the motions – Katara drops the portrait to the floor and her hands trap my jaw forcing me to look her straight in the eye. The tingle I felt when her hand touched mine spreads across my face, through my cheeks, and down my neck. The pleasing sensation is contrary to the anger coming from Katara, her face is fairly composed, but there is this frustration, a different anger than the one I felt directed towards my father. This one is… tender.

Sad.

“You are not weak,” she emphasizes, “You are not a coward. And you are wanted here, I want you here; the world needs you here. Whatever happened a hundred years ago, you are here now. Everything is still here now, the people you are still in time to save. Gran-Gran used to tell us stories about how the Southern Water Tribe was huge and powerful, the Fire Nation raids turned it into what it is today. But it is still there, it means it can be rebuild. Everything can be rebuild. Things change, and not always for the better, but it doesn’t mean the changes you have yet to make can’t make the difference.”

I stare at her, I always do when she talks like this. Whenever she stands in front of me. “How am I supposed to fix things if nobody gives me the chance?”

“It takes time to earn people’s trust, that’s why you should be grateful to the ones that are willing to give it to you.”

Suddenly she realizes what she is doing and releases my face. Her fingers shudder as if wishing to keep the physical contact, but she ultimately pulls back.

“Oh… Well, uh… Sorry for dropping your picture.”

“No, no, never mind.”

We lean down for it at the same time and our fingers interlace by accident.

We withdraw at the same time as well.

Her voice is shaky: “Sorry.”

I, on my part, am trying to cool down the warmth on my face. “It is… alright.”

I take the portrait from the floor and put it aside.

“You ready to go back to the lesson with Gyatso?” Katara asks.

“Yes.”

Chapter 16: Chapter 十五: Learn from your elders

Notes:

I thought about starting the year with some familial vibes... which in this case, they translate into humor for us and frustration for the characters ':-D I was planning on posting this in a few days along with other chapters, but then I thought we deserved a laugh, then a little heartbreak and another laugh right away to celebrate 2021. Which reminds me...

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Gyatso

How to deal with angsty teenagers?...

How to deal with angsty teenagers?...

Could I keep Aang fourteen forever?

No, no, no, no. Growth is part of life’s journey.

However…

“We’re back!”

Miss Katara’s singsong voice interrupts my meditation session.

When I open my eyes, she and young Zuko are walking closer to the training platform. Judging by his body language and his facial expression, he is still unenthusiastic about being in this location preparing himself for more beginner’s airbending training. I suppose it is unlikely for Aang to grow from the cheery kid that he is now to that kind of scowling young man whose natural stance seems to be with his arms crossed, but I refuse to believe young Zuko could have displayed such an attitude in his early years.

It is not difficult to see he has had a challenging life. Humans do not get to endure as much pain as he has in these past days without being previously accustomed. 

“Thank you so much for bringing him back, Miss Katara.”

“It was nothing.”

“Ready to continue your training, Zuko?”

His shoulders shrug without dropping his arms. “Whatever.”

We can make this work, I assure myself in my thoughts, It will only take some time.

 

***

 

Zuko

“This is useless!” I scream. “We have been here for hours now!”

And would it kill Gyatso to fucking react to anything? “Nobody said training didn’t require patience.”

He is still with that freaky, imperturbable voice, it is almost like he does it on purpose whenever I shout. (Is he doing it on purpose?) Now I am almost tempted to tell him that if he has something to say to me, he can say it to my face!

“Who do you think I am?” I argue. “Of course I know training needs patience! And I also know it requires productivity! Not sitting around with your eyes closed hoping to not fall asleep!”

“Meditating is so much more complicated than that.”

“He’s right, Zuko,” Aang chirps in. (He is sitting on a meditating pose as well, but has had his eyes opened for a while now.) “Meditating is about shutting down your senses, and allowing your inner self to take over. It’s about your feelings and the energy they carry.”

Katara looks delighted by his explanation. “That sounds beautiful!”

Sokka isn’t though, (he woke up a while ago and since then he is lounging, vaguely watching my nightmare of a meditation session from afar), “I don’t know, man. The part about shutting down your senses really doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Nor to me,” I admit.

“Great! We can add that to the ‘List of things Zuko and I agree on’. Counting this one, we have, like, two entries.”

“Kids,” Gyatso reprimands. “I need you to focus.”

“Focus on what?” I retort. “The darkness behind my eyelids?”

“Zuko, I am trying to teach you something here.”

“Again, what? Because I am definitely not learning a thing!”

“Perhaps it is because you are not focusing.”

I narrow my eyes. “Are you insinuating something?”

“It is not that. It is only that I see you are not working towards making contact with your inner self as Aang explained. If you did, it might give you very enlightening messages.”

“How many times do I have to say that I am not here for mere messages?”

It is like talking to a wall.

 

Gyatso

It is like talking to a tigerdillo.

In fact, I think a tigerdillo would be less ferocious in such uncalled situations. (Please, tell me not all teens support themselves on anger and sarcasm.)

Breathe, Gyatso, breathe. This will be an enlightening experience for you as well.

“Perhaps, it is only that you lack the mental clearance to meditate efficiently,” I say, struggling to keep my voice collected.

(This kid is giving Tashi a run for his money at perturbing my inner peace.)

It truly is a stroke of luck that I have Aang. “Why don’t you focus more on your emotions instead of your thoughts, Zuko?” he suggests, “Emotions are not something that you think, they are something that you feel.”

“That’s a great idea, Aang!” I praise.

I’m so proud of him! And I am such a great father figure! Sure I can handle someone like Zuko!

“Alright, young Avatar Zuko. Tell us how you feel.”

“Angry.”

Miss Katara smacks her face with the palm of her hand, her brother only comments: “Figures.”

Breathe, Gyatso, breathe.

“I see…” my words are a thin, softly sharp whisper.

“Well, there are also revelations and clearance in our memories,” I muse, “Why don’t you meditate on a significant memory of yours?”

“You must have some interesting memories if you’ve lived a hundred years,” Aang points out.

“Yeah, now that you mention it, how exactly did that work?” young Sokka inquires. “I mean, were you even conscious while you were in that iceberg?”

“I don’t think so,” Zuko’s eyebrow and his scarred eye furrow in thought, “My last memories are from when I first left the Fire Nation.”

“When Sokka and I found you, you were in the Avatar State,” Miss Katara speaks in a reminiscing tone. “So far we have seen your body functions when you are like that, but you also said you can see memories from the past Avatars. Maybe you were running on their consciousness for all those years.”

Young Sokka’s eyes broaden. “Zuko, you’ve got to remember something from those years!”

 

Zuko

“Why?” I ask, and it has a clear double sense: why is it so imperative for me to remember and why does Sokka look like he was borderline freaking out.

“Do you know if that Avatar Kyoshi girl fought the Fire Nation back in her days?”

I shake my head. “No.”

A buzzing, dizzying headache ensues; I start seeing words and hearing sounds made by fog and coming through static. They are blurry. They are familiar like memories, but it is only the recollection of a woman’s voice.

It ends when I form the words She… didn’t… tell me.

“If she did,” Sokka continues, oblivious to my… whatever the heck it was, “Then we could get some more insight on how to deal with the Fire Nation and their weak spots.”

“From a century ago?” Katara notes. “I don’t think that’s all viable of an option.”

“Then I assume you have a better idea, oh skilled strategist Katara,” Sokka mocks.

Gyatso cuts in: “Zuko is not ready to reach for his past lives yet, Sokka.”

“I can try,” I say.

“It will be futile,” Gyatso insists, “Your meditation abilities are still...”

For once he looks unsure, and as glad as I am to pull him out of his holier-than-thou demeanor, I don’t like that it is only to ‘tactfully’ describe how I fail at yet another thing. I should tell him to just spit it out, I can handle it.  It is not like I haven’t had people saying much worse things to my face.

And over more important things than meditation!

“I can try,” I repeat, emphasizing.

I position myself on padmasana[1] yet again and focus on the only image I have from Avatar Kyoshi: the statue at the Southern Air Temple. Picture it as if I was in front of it and coming closer, close enough to see the small particles of dust and the texture of the granite.

The buzzing headache triggers itself again, but this time stronger.

‘Zuko…’

I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the throbbing pain, forcing myself to focus on that voice that I hear when I think of Kyoshi. Chasing it.

‘Zuko…’

I am growing dizzy yet again. My thoughts are shifting quickly, incoherently; one moment I can see Kyoshi’s statue, the next one everything is pitch black. I see flickering flashes of light. When they come, I see red lips moving, a human shadow, a face whose features I can’t discern. When they go, everything disappears.

‘Zuko.’

The pain grows, it is turning reddish-black behind my eyes, as if I could see the blood spreading from inside my head.

My eyes open, I wake up.

“Zuko, are you okay?”

“What was that about?”

Katara and Aang are at my sides, holding on to my shoulders and looking at me with apprehensive eyes while I pant and crumble down. Sokka and Gyatso watch without moving. Gyatso’s ‘I told you so’ stare is subtle… but it is there.

“I… um…” my lungs struggle to regain oxygen, “I think… I think Kyoshi talked to me…”

Sokka is the one to ask: “What did she say?”

“I don’t know,” I say in a short huff, “I couldn’t… I didn’t hear her.”

“Then how do you know she talked to you?” Katara wonders.

“I… I got the sound of her voice… But I couldn’t understand her words.”

“Seems like he has a mental blockage.” Aang is talking to Gyatso when he says that.

“I can see that as well,” he answers, “That is the reason why I was trying to teach you mental clearance. These kinds of experiences drain plenty of one’s energy if not done properly.”

“Great,” I bite out. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Would you like for us to continue the meditation session now?”

 

Gyatso

Aang and Katara step away from Zuko once he composes himself. His skin stays unhealthily pale, pearly due to the sweat. I sigh internally. This is what I was trying to avoid; how much could it cost him to only listen, to remain a bit patient?

Mayhap I am the one to blame, I have not employed the correct approach. I am not experienced in dealing with these… situations. And it is difficult to learn when Zuko is so unapproachable himself.

It makes me wonder: what did you suffer? What hit you so hard now you struggle to stand on your feet?

I instruct him once more to meditate on a significant memory of his, hoping it will serve as a way to learn some about his past.

His eyes close and his asana[2] is flawless, however, his face slowly contorts into one of raw pain and terror, and… guilt.

He wakes up with another violent gasp. His skin is white as paper, he is shaking. He looks as though he had seen a ghost.

Maybe he did.

He stands. “I want to leave.”

“What’s wrong?”

This time, all three of his friends stand to reach for him, but Zuko retreats from them. His fear lingers, he is still shaking.

“I… I just… I don’t want to be here anymore. I need to leave. Now.”

“I think we can end the training for today,” I concede, standing, too. “I am sure we will get better results tomorrow.”

In reality, I doubt we will get results so soon. I wonder: what caused such dense darkness to cloud your mind?

“By the way, kids,” I add, “I do not want any of you to come near this area alone. This used to be part of a labyrinth with many traps to keep the intruders away from the temple. It is very dangerous.”

 

***

 

Zuko

I whirl my dagger between my fingers while I lie down looking at my tent’s ceiling.

Up and down.

Inside, out.

The fiasco of an airbending lesson I had today replays itself inside my head. I have beaten myself up for it ever since we got back to the camp in the afternoon. (I was such an idiot, Gyatso was right to keep up his holier-than-thou attitude with me.)

And then to tell me how horrible I am at meditating – (of all things!) – and to tell me I told you so aloud after I nearly provoked myself an aneurysm!

I sigh. (What a concise resume.) (Of my day and my life.)

I can’t help but wonder, why did the Avatar Spirit reincarnate in me? I am not a hero. Would Kyoshi pick me to be her re-embodiment if she had a say in it?

My hand goes to my face. Can her spirit see anything through my eyes? Can she tell what I feel when I can’t do anything right and… when I have childish freakouts?

 I sit up upon a knock outside, Sokka peeks his head through the entrance.

“Hey, Zuko! You want to visit that secret entrance Gyatso told us to not go to?”

 

 

Notes:

[1] Padmasana: Original sanskrit for lotus position.
[2] Asana: Original sanskrit for body positions in yoga

Chapter 17: Chapter 十六: Trust no one

Notes:

Okay, guys, you don't mind if I rant for a while, right?

Thanks! :-)

Today I said "THAT'S IT" with this chapter! It has been in my drafts for MONTHS, but because I also haven't slept in MONTHS I never could finish it!! I felt so useless!! And my sleeping problems are not completely solved yet, but I was SO tired of postponing this chapter. I was tired of postponing so many chapters!! I wanted to deliver this and the continuation to not leave it in that cliffhanger, but I had to push myself so hard to just stay awake while I was writing that I couldn't finish the others, but I said "No! This one is going up TODAY!!" so yeah, here it is! And I'm angry, and happy, and proud to be writing again and that I'm finally getting a handle of my insomnia, and I will make this chapter my celebration!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sokka

“What?”

“I said – ”

“I heard what you said, but what the heck made you come up with that?”

“That’s what I said!” Katara screeches before pushing the tent’s opening curtain to the side. It’s not that I couldn’t tell from before, but she’s furious. “This maniac,” her other hand waves my way, “woke me up for dragging me into his crazy spy mission that doesn’t make any sense!”

“Geez, had I known I would get two grouches for the price of one… I would have woken up Zuko alone.” I smirk at her.

“Oh, you mean I could stay in my warm, toasty sleeping mat while you lost some toes outside?” she counters. “And I’m supposed to feel bad, why?”

“Hey!” We turn to Zuko, who’s still sitting on his own sleeping mat, but who also looks like he’s reaching the limit of his very, very short patience. “None of you are answering my question.”

“Well, Gyatso said the whole place was part of a labyrinth to trick the intruders, right?” I remind them. (Because, duh.) “We could learn something about traps and all we need to know for catching… y’know… some old dude with poor shaving skills…”

“Gyatso also said it was dangerous.”

“Oh, sure, because you cared soooooo much about what Gyatso had to say today.”

His eyes narrow, but I’m not scared.

Not too much.

Not as long as Katara and the weird thing they have for each other is here:

“Zuko is right, Sokka. Straight up ignoring Gyatso and going to places he told us not to go is not the best way to ensure we keep our airbending master.”

“Well, Gyatso already refused to give up on him after all his whinnying today – ”

It wasn’t whinnying!

“ – so I guess we can count on his forgiveness.”

Oh, great, now she has her I-can’t-believe-you face, she’ll start screeching in no time: “You’re seriously willing to abuse some old man’s hospitality like that?”

“If it is in the name of knowledge… then yeah.”

Both, my not-appreciative-of-strategic-plans sister and her blow-things-up-now-ask-questions-later boyfriend, stare at me like I was crazy.

“Fine,” I shrug. “Don’t come with me. Don’t learn tactical moves for the next time we almost get killed. Don’t take the chance to revisit the Air Temple and those hundreds of statues of the past Avatar’s…”

Zuko’s eyes go big for a second, but Katara gets in the way to scold me: “Sokka!”

“Don’t support a devoted brother who has dedicated his life to his little sister.”

Now they are Katara’s eyes the ones that narrow.

“It’s not like my feelings matter,” I continue. “I’ll go alone. Off I go into a cruel world. Into a hostile environment. Without backup… And I’ll die alone. So alone.”

“Are you done yet?”

“In the cold,” I muse. “So young. Without saying goodbye. And without ever being in love!”

Pause for dramatic effect.

Not that the heartless jerks appreciate that, either:

“Okay.”

“Take care.”

“You two are the worst,” I say with feeling. “Cool then, if you’re too scared to come.”  I turn to Katara. “Oh, and when Dad asks, tell him that you killed me.”

“I am not scared of anything,” Zuko says, ready to pick up a fight.

But I’m still not scared.

And of course Katara isn’t since she takes the boaster by the arm. “Zuko, he is tricking you.”

“Well, that’d embarrassing for him, wouldn’t it?” I say. “Since I’m a nut-brained peasant and all…”

Both of them frown at me, but Zuko ends up sighing: “Okay. Katara already told me, I am an idiot. But the point stands, I am not scared of anything.”

“Sure, it’s only that you let Gyatso boss you around.”

“Nobody is the boss of me.”

“Why are all men so stupid?” Katara murmurs (not that much quietly, by the way). “Have either of you thought that we’re talking about entering a labyrinth, and as far as we know the only two exits are the entrance at the forest and the Southern Air Temple, and one of those is miles away from here?”

“Well, the walk for getting there would be a good exercise,” I say.

“Mm-hmmmm,” she hums. “And for getting back?”

 

***

 

We peek at the bison’s stables from the bushes. “Druk,” Zuko whisper-calls. “Druk.”

I wonder how much of a hearing range dragons have; Druk raises his head at the very faint call. (Are dragons trained to be that much attentive of their owner’s voice?) (Or maybe it’s just that Druk went to the Dragon Obedience School.)

Once he spots us, Zuko gestures to the trees. “Go to the forest.”

And we do the exact same thing once we see Druk jumping the fence. (Bless the Dragon Obedience School!) Zuko and Druk have an emotive reencounter. Druk nuzzles and licks him, Zuko hugs him, blah, blah, blah. (I must admit I didn’t have them as the emotive type.)

“I missed you, buddy!”

“You saw him this morning,” I say… which earns me a growl from Druk.

“Don’t listen to him, Druk,” Zuko calms him. “He doesn’t know what it is like to have a dragon friend.”

“Talking about friendship,” I prompt, “We sorta need a friendly favor.”

And I proceed to explain my very detailed plan:

“Listen, lil’ buddy. We are going on a… recognition mission, but we are going to need a ride for getting back to the village before morning, and since the public transport is slow around these parts… When the moon – ” I point to it at the northeast side of the sky “ – gets there – ” I point to an empty spot into the northwest, and then I point to Druk “ – you are going to get us at the Southern Air Temple’s entrance. Sounds good, right?”

Katara coughs. “It doesn’t.” Coughs again.

“You have to take care of that cough, baby sister. It sounds awful,” I tell her. “Alright, Druk. Do you copy?”

He only stares.

Unappreciative sister, unappreciative Avatar, and unappreciative dragon. Ah, it’s not easy to be a misunderstood genius.

Zuko pets Druk some more. “Please, pal, I am going to be very tired after climbing a mountain beneath the surface. Do it for me, would you?”

Katara joins the petting party. “And for me?”

Oh, sure, let’s all hail the pretentious reptile instead of the guy that’s in fact interested in the war! But apparently the cult to Druk worked because he grunts and nods his head – (for real) – so I’m not complaining too much.

“He says okay,” Zuko clarifies.

“Perfect,” I deadpan. “Now let’s go, we’re losing the night’s coverage!”

 

***

 

I move stealthily through the trees, taking advantage of the darkness, attentive of the perimeter and ensuring nobody…

“Sokka, stop playing spy and stay close!” Katara says through her clenched teeth.

I know her teeth aren’t clattering for the cold, it’s the weird silence that floats around this spirit-y forest or whatever. I’m not that much of a believer, to be honest, but the silence really is much heavier in this part than what it is in the rest of the mountain. Like it was making a statement of itself and any disturbance was a violation against nature’s rules or something like that.

“We have to stay together,” Katara embraces herself, trembling, “I had forgotten how creepy this place is.”

“I keep feeling there is something walking around us,” Zuko whispers.

Katara’s eyes go big. “You think someone’s following us?”

“No, not someone. Something. Something that doesn’t disturb the forest. Like an animal”

“See that?” I say. “That makes sense. Like, it’s terrifying, but… you know… in a rational level.”

“Shouldn’t we have brought Aang with us?” Katara asks, lowering the volume of her voice down to a hiss. “He knows the forest better.”

“He also knows Gyatso better,” I remind her. “And I don’t think he would doubt to give us away to someone whom he owes more loyalty.”

The tree branches thunder against each other, startling us. My hands desperately grasp the tree I’m using as a hiding spot, Katara holds on to Zuko’s arm.

“Relax, it is just the wind,” he tells us.

But the three of us keep scanning the treetops for a few minutes. (Just… to be sure.)

Of course Katara and Zuko forget about safety and silence when they notice they’re arm in arm. (Ugh!) After that, it’s just pulling away, blushy faces, and a messy mix of apologies and it’s-alright’s. (Meanwhile, excuse me while I go vomit.)

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to– ”

“No, no, it was nothing. I– ”

“It’s just that… this place gets on people’s nerves and– ”

“Yes, sure. No… Nothing to worry about.”

Fun fact: They. Are. Not. Smooth.

Ha, I guess that’s not something inherited between siblings.

Let them have their moment of awkward silence aaaaaaaaaaand…

“Uh, guys?” I say. “Entrance, temple, anyone?”

 

***

 

The ruins are still like I remember them from this morning: several broken, irregular lines tangled with each other. The surface already looks like a labyrinth. Katara, Zuko, and I look for a possible entrance beneath the rubble. Being here makes me think of the battles that took place the first days of the war. I imagine myself passing through these mountains then, fighting alongside other warriors. My dad would be so proud.

Though, it’s strange – like everything else around here – but the structure doesn’t seem like it ever succumbed to the cold and the years. The concrete blocks are not worn down, and the cracks in them are way too profound to be caused by blunt force. Although their texture is more porous and rougher than standard.

Erosion without weathering. The Air Nomads must have used their bending to destroy and hide this place to avoid being found by the Fire Nation soldiers.

“There’s a door in here,” Katara calls while we search for an entrance.

When Zuko and I find her, she’s banging it – a stone door – without much results.

“But it is stuck,” she concludes.

“Let me try,” one of Zuko’s fire daggers lights up from his fist alone.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a tough guy, but seeing that and a firebender, in general, standing in the middle of the ruins of a place destroyed because of firebenders… doesn’t sit right with me.

It makes me think. How well do we know Zuko so far? For all that my sister and I know, and if he was truly inside that iceberg for a hundred years, he could very well have been part of this assassination against the Air Nomads before running away. I know it didn’t look like it back when Katara and I first told him about it, but this is war.

You can’t trust anyone.

“You two may want to take a step back,” he warns Katara and me, “Dust and embers are going to fly everywhere.”

“Be careful then,” Katara says.

Okay, now I’m worried. But no for what you may think.

“So…” I start once we walk away and let Zuko cut-burn through the stone. (He was right, the dust and sparks are flying free.) “What’s going on between you and Zuko?”

My worry grows with each shade of red her cheeks color. “What? What are you talking about? There’s nothing going on between me and Zuko! What could possibly be going on between me and Zuko?”

“I’m just sayin’. Since you two are becoming so close…”

“Pffft! That’s normal, we are friends.”

“Riiiiiiiiiiiight,” I stretch. “Just promise me you’ll be the careful one, okay? People who never reveal anything about their past, and who at the end of the day you barely know are not really ones to commit.”

Katara’s eyes have always been darker than mine, and they seem even darker with the look she gives me.

A loud thump cuts short our stare contest. “It is open,” Zuko announces.

When Katara and I come close again, we see him putting the entire door away. He really cut it off from the rest of the structure.

“Way to vandalize ancient ruins, Zuko,” I say dryly.

“Hey, you are the one that dragged me here in the first place.”

Katara is fed up: “Let’s just go inside and get over with this.”

We do.

 

***

 

Damn, this place is dark. And… truth be told… I expected it to be a bit more impressive. So far it’s only a dark corridor with plain walls, with a bit of moss and vines, the usual…

Whoa!

… until you hit a cliff right at the end of it! We almost drop!

“For Agni’s sake!” Zuko exclaims.

“Hey look, it’s a pit. The other side is right there,” I point to it… around forty-nine feet away, to be exact. “It seems like the road continues there.”

“Huh,” Katara shrugs. “Figures.”

“It does?”

“Well, this place was built by airbenders only for airbenders to pass it. I don’t think they would put it easy for someone who can’t float.”

“Good point,” Zuko agrees.

“Oh, such a shame, but we have to go back.”

“No,” I say. “C’mon! This our first and probably only chance to get ahead of the Fire Nation! They don’t know we’re in here, and we better have an escape route before they find out.”

“I hate to break it to you, big brother, but in case you haven’t noticed, this escape route doesn’t seem very viable.”

But there has to be a way to make it viable! There has to be something in here, there has to be…

There are some vines hanging from the ceiling.

“Give me a sec.” I take out my boomerang.

When I throw it, it cuts and untangles some of the lianas, enough for one of the ends to fall right on my palm before I catch my boomerang with my other hand.

“Since Air Nomads are all about balancing,” I grin. (Told ya! Smooth.)

“Seriously?”

“Any of you has a better idea?” No, they don’t. “C’mon, baby sister. I’ll take you to the other side.”

It takes her a bit (a lot) of hesitation, but Katara ends up grabbing on to me while I grab the liana and…

One jump, a few moments in the air, some screams – (from Katara, not mine) – and we are standing at the other edge.

“Sokka, that was amazing!”

“I know.”

“But will that vine be able to carry Zuko and you together?”

“It’ll be fine. His head might be big, but it’s only because it’s full of air.”

“I heard that!” (Hopefully some of that air went out with that scream.)

(And I also hope attitude problems are not as heavy as they seem.)

Okay, going back for the grump. “Don’t crush me,” I glare at him.

He scoffs. “I can’t wait to forget this ever happened.”

Me, too, man. Just one jump and it’s over.

It’s over when the vine breaks and we fall.

 

Notes:

Oh, and about the "cliffhanger" thing that I said above... Haha! No pun intended ':-D

Chapter 18: Chapter 十七: Bitter are the wars between brothers

Notes:

I really want to thank all of you guys for putting up with me through this fic. I'm still figuring out many things about first person POV, and I'm happy that I can share my efforts and my accomplishments with you :-)

Chapter Text

Zuko

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I don’t know how long Sokka and I scream. It is endless. Like the pit. My ears shut down due to the pressure growing on them. What is it that they say about having visions of your life when you are about to die? I feel like I am about to die, but… I don’t see anything.

Something cool and strangely incorporeal comes around my hand before freezing there and halting my fall. My skin stings, burning with coldness. I manage to catch Sokka with my other hand – the one from my wounded arm. The open flesh stretches and the injury opens agonizingly slowly.

“Boys, are you okay?”

I follow Katara’s voice up through the thin string of solid ice that is holding my hand. I can’t see her at the top, we are too far down.

I have had it with Sokka! “Are you trying to kill me?

His answer is just as angry: “Is that an option?”

“I take that as a ‘yes’,” Katara says from above.

The ice chain shudders.

“Katara, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” her voice sounds pained. The ice slips a bit downer. “Totally.”

“What did you use to make the ice?”

“The water from my waterskin.”

“That thing doesn’t carry that much water,” Sokka reminisces in a lower voice only for me to hear. “She must be hanging at the edge for reaching this far.”

The chain slides further.

“Katara, you have to let it go! You are going to fall, too!” I tell her.

“And leave you two to fall to the depths of only who knows where? I don’t think so!”

Looking down at whatever distance is left for us to fall, I can’t see a thing! Everything is a squared black abyss with unnervingly straight walls, and which’s darkness appears greater now that we are inserted in it. The air is hot and slightly damp. Maybe there is water at the bottom or something.

Sokka and I glide again.

“Sorry!” Katara sounds more uncomfortable and in pain the more she speaks. “It’s just that… you two are… very heavy, and my arms… are stretching. And it takes… a lot of work… to focus on… keeping the ice… solid.”

“Katara, you have to let it go!”

No!

“The ice is too thin anyway,” Sokka adds, “It will break if you try to pull us up!”

Why did we have to come here in the first place?” She tries to pull up but it only works to get us even downer. “Zuko, how’s your arm injury?”

Bad. I can feel it broadening, and then the wetness of the blood. If it keeps up, I might lose the strength to continue grabbing Sokka’s arm.

Wait.

“Katara, I have a plan!” I exclaim. “But you have to let go of the ice at my sign!”

“What– ”

“I swear I have a plan,” I reassure her, “but you have to melt the ice. I will get both of us up, I… I promise.”

She doesn’t answer straightaway. I can see my own breathing puff in fist-sized clouds, the ice continues to nick my hand.

The silence is thin, the tension slices it.

“You promise?” Katara asks. Her voice is thin, too.

“I promise,” I say.

She hesitates for a few more seconds. “Okay.”

“Remember, at my sign,” I repeat.

“What exactly is this plan you’re talking about?” Sokka questions. His brows are furrowed in unsureness.

I am not about to tell him he is right to feel unsure. “Just know that I am sorry for this.”

Assembling all the strength I can recollect on my right arm, I throw him into the air.

Ah!

“Katara, now!” I scream.

She lets go, the ice melts, I impulse myself to an upper spot on the wall using fire jets from my feet, take out my pearl dagger from my belt, stab it into the concrete to support me there, and I catch Sokka again before he can fall down once more. (Everything is so quick it feels it happened simultaneously.)

Sokka and I pant for air for a few moments. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to shout at me when he recovers his breath (and from the shock).

“Are you fucking insane?”

“What’s going on down there?” Katara wonders.

“Your boyfriend almost kills me!” her brother replies.

What– “Boyfriend?” I choke.

“Sokka!” Katara reprimands. “I told you he isn’t my boyfriend!”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” I say at the same time.

“Seriously?” he looks up inexpressively. “We are going talk about that now?”

“No, because there isn’t anything to talk about,” I reply. “Now, catch your breath, I am going to throw you again.”

“No!” he complains. “Zuko, wait – ”

I don’t give him time to finish. I repeat the same motions: throw him – I wish I could do so farther away – take out the dagger, use my firebending to push myself up, stick the dagger into another corner of the wall, upper than where we were; and catch Sokka before he goes down. That is how I make us climb out of the damn crater. I can feel the strength leaving my right arm with each time that I toss Sokka and each drop of blood that comes out of the reopened wound. Katara is right, why did we have to come here?

Sokka screams one last time before gripping tight to the edge of the precipice once I get us there. (Finally.) I grab it, too, after I shoot myself to it, but it is difficult, my arm feels completely drained, useless.

“Sokka!” Katara comes to her brother’s aid and helps him get up. Then she takes one of my arms to pull me up as well until I lay on the steady floor.

The three of us attempt to catch some share of new air – fresh air that isn’t charged with panicky sweat and fear and dust and fatigue. The only thing audible is the sound of our messy, unsynchronized gasps.

“Nobody…” Sokka manages to speak “… will ever find out about this... Okay?”

Katara and I nod.

“Can we get out of here now?” she presses.

“Don’t you even…” I say, shifting between breaths “… think that I will… jump to another liana.”

“That’s fair,” Sokka agrees. (My common sense is coming back after all that adrenaline, I remember he is the one that put us through that!) “I suppose we already passed the most difficult part. Everything should be easier from here.”

“You think, you wannabe strategist!” I roar as strong as I can. I stand up. “It is your fault that we fell into this ‘difficult part’, and you – Ah!

My right shoulder throbs, my left hand clutches it.

“What’s wrong?” Katara doesn’t wait for an answer before approaching to examine me.

When she removes my hand, we both stare at the dark red stain that shows through my coat; without wasting time, she helps me take off the sleeve to study the bandage beneath it. The mark of blood is bigger there.

“It’s not as bad as I expected,” she admits, unwrapping the formerly white fabric, “The binding was tight enough to keep the flesh from opening too much. But I think you will need stitching.”

“Great,” I deadpan.

“Listen, guys,” Sokka hesitates, “I know that you probably think all of this is my fault – ”

Probably?” Katara parrots in a nearly hysteric voice, “And just thinking it? You are the one that brought us here and you are the one who insisted on using the liana! There’s nothing to think, Sokka! You are the selfish idiot who caused all of this! And the very minimum you can do is taking responsibility for your actions! That, and confronting the consequences! So I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the night and the week! Do I make myself clear?”

Agni, when did she grow three feet taller?

On the other hand, now I know how she managed to assume such leadership back at the Southern Water Tribe.

Sokka is nodding so eagerly and powerfully that it seems his head would fall if he stopped. Katara counts a fair amount of nods before dropping her fierce stance.

She turns to me. “Zuko, we need to find something to make a new bandage, if you keep carrying the other one, the cloth could rot and the injury could get infected.”

“We could cut a piece from my coat,” I offer. And pick my dagger from the floor.

“I’ll do it,” Katara takes it from my hand.

I take off my coat so she can cut whatever she needs. “You need to sharpen this,” she observes, eyeing the uneven blade covered in dirt.

“Yes, I know,” I agree, glaring at Sokka.

Katara slices one of my sleeve’s end and then ties it around my upper arm. “You sure you can go on with a chopped coat?”

“I will be fine,” I assure her, shrugging into the jacket, “I will keep my body heat high until we get back to the village.”

“Okay. That settled…” she spins around and resumes walking forward.

 

***

 

For a good length, this new corridor is not different from the one we left behind on the other side of the pit. The walls are the same dark gray color, yet it could also be the lack of light. I cast a flame floating above my palm to illuminate the road as we keep advancing. Same creepily straight walls, same moss, and minimal patches of vegetation growing despite the adversity.

There is a strange perception about this tunnel, though. The more we advance, it seems like we are descending to somewhere.

“I’m getting worried, boys,” Katara mutters. “What if all the labyrinth is like this tunnel and we are getting into something we might not be able to escape?”

“So far we have only walked in a straight line,” I reminisce, “That we can be sure of and we can return if we find any turns.”

Sokka breaks his vow of silence. “Maybe if we get trapped in here until tomorrow, Gyatso will come to get us and – ”

“I said not to talk!” Katara reminds him firmly.

He complies.

“Guys, I think I see light ahead,” I tell them.

“But we haven’t walked enough to get the Southern Air Temple yet.”

Because we didn’t get to the temple – not the one on the surface. This is… an underground… auditorium. The tunnel was a doorway to a massive cupola, and its ceiling is high, but it is… earth. A thick layer of earth through which the roots of the trees break and let in rays of moonlight. That is the only thing that gives away that we are beneath the ground, the rest of the place is built like a classic amphitheater, the walls are perfectly constructed and carved. Solid, steady, and tidy.

“My, now we’re talking!” Sokka exclaims with admiration.

We count the different levels that climb to the top of the dome. Circled platforms one above the other that make up for different floors and their walls are filled with hundreds of doorframes and tunnels like the one we used to get here. The place where we are standing is another platform, a short row of stairs extends towards a group of stone tables.

“What is this place?” Katara wonders in a whisper.

“It doesn’t look like it was part of the Air Temple,” I observe, stepping into it, “Look at the insignia on the floor.”

It is not an Air Nomad symbol, it is a lotus flower carved at the center of the stage where we are standing.

“It’s pretty,” she muses, “I suppose, but…”

“But this is a labyrinth,” Sokka finishes for her. (I guess she is too stunned by this discovery to remind him to stay silent.)

His eyes continue wandering through the doorways as he steps inside. “Any of these could lead to the Air Temple.”

“And some of them could lead to somewhere less pleasant,” I add.

We stay in silence for a while.

“What do you guys think this place was?” Sokka inquires, stepping down the stairs. His steps resound around us. “Maybe some kind of meeting room?”

“Why would Air Nomads have an underground meeting room?”

He shrugs, reaching the end of the stairs. “Why would anyone have an underground labyrinth? Also, is it my idea or this place is way too clean for being hundred-year-old abandoned ruins?”

He is right, there isn’t even moss. The tables are pristine.

“Perhaps certain things about the war weren’t as they told us,” Katara concedes, finally entering the auditorium.

And maybe there were other things about the war that aren’t completely true, or that are misconceptions. Maybe the Fire Nation isn’t completely evil. Maybe I didn’t abandon everyone…

“So, how do we climb to the tunnels?” Katara’s voice startles me.

“There aren’t any stairs to go up. Whatever this place is, it is still in Air Nomad territory.”

Sokka (attempts) to suggest: “We could– ”

“There is no way we are doing any other of your ideas, Sokka!” Katara snarls.

“What?” he snaps. “You’re still going on with that?”

“What do you mean ‘still going on with that’? Your little ‘free fall’ happened less than an hour ago!”

“Yeah, but as you can see, I was right to bring us here!”

“Right about what? This is just an empty room.”

“It is an empty room from the first days of the war!” he emphasizes. “If I keep looking, maybe I can find some armament. Or blueprints!” He rubs his hands enthusiastically. “Oh, man, Dad will be so proud when I show them to him – ”

 “Is that what this is about? You just want to find something to impress Dad?”

Sokka pauses. It is almost imperceptible. “Pfft! Of course not, Katara. What are you even talking about?”

I am tempted to ask if they could not talk about this in front of me.

“This is only another one of your war games?” Katara insists.

“They are not games, Katara!” Sokka yells.

“No, they aren’t. I know that. That’s why I don’t bring my friends – or my family – to unknown, mysterious places that as far as I know could be ancient tombs!”

Sokka pauses again at the mention of family. This time is more noticeable, he looks… shocked. Guilty.

Oh, give me a break! I don’t need to empathize with him now!

He laughs nervously. “Ancient tombs? Now you’re just inventing things.”

“Like the tale you invented where you took out some treasure from here you immediately became a war hero?” Katara retorts.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Neither do you because if you did you wouldn’t jump from cliffs just to prove that you’re ‘The Man’!” she enacts quotation marks with her fingers.

“You know what? I am done with you!” Sokka says. “Dad clearly didn’t know how much of an insufferable brat you were! Remember what you said to me before we found The Grump at the South Pole?” he hooks a thumb towards me.

“Hey!” I call out. (Forget it. No more empathy going on here.)

“This time, you – ” he points to Katara “ – are on your own!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

The two of them storm off in opposite directions. (Katara goes towards the wall across the room, and Sokka goes deeper into the group of tables.)

“Um… guys?” I say, belatedly. We… We are still trapped here.

Chapter 19: Chapter 十八: Heart and soul

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Katara

Stupid brother! Stupid brother! Stupid brother!

I’m pretty sure I’m muttering that out loud, but I can’t bring myself to care – (not that I’m trying to even do that) – I’m busy thinking how good it could have worked for me to be an only child, or… just anyone else’s sister other than Sokka!

It would have saved me lots of problems and near-heart attacks! And it sure as hell wouldn’t have me been the one doing all the work just to be tossed aside for being a girl! I am done with him, too; I’ll get out of this labyrinth before he does and then he’ll see–

“Are you going to keep jumping like that until you reach the upper floor?” Zuko wonders from my side, watching me bounce trying to reach the upper platforms.

(I have been doing this for a while now.) “Yes,” I answer, sincerely.

Sokka scoffs.

“Hey, Zuko, do you hear something?” I ask.

He glances over his shoulder. “Not really.”

I smirk at him with complicity.

“I think you are hurting his feelings,” he murmurs quietly, just enough for me to hear.

Yeah, probably, but…

“He should have thought better before almost hurting himself,” I respond not caring about how quiet or loudly I do so.

“Is that why you are so mad at him?” He pauses, considering his own question. He looks mildly confused. “It is strange for someone to get mad at others because they care about them.”

“Not that strange,” I explain, hopping once more. “It’s complicated. Caring about someone involves a lot of emotions, especially when that person does something stupid.”

His confusion is replaced by something else, but very similar nevertheless like he was trying to make sense of something he had seen before. (The conversation that we had in his tent after the avalanche, maybe?) But there’s also an emptiness to his expression as if he was trying to detach himself from whatever he is reminiscing.

It makes me think about what Sokka said earlier. ‘People who never reveal anything about their past, and who at the end of the day you barely know.’

Geesh, I really don’t want to follow one of his advices now.

“Do you have a better idea on how to get up?” I ask.

“I think I do,” his answer comes quickly, “but… I don’t know if you will like it much.”

“C’mon, how bad can it be? I already agreed to swing on a liana.”

He considers this for a second. “Just… um… follow me.”

Complying, we step some considerable steps away from the spot where we were standing, much separated from the edge of the platforms.

“How is it that stepping back is going to take us to the next floor?”

“You will see in a minute,” he explains, “And do you… um… do you mind if I carry you?”

“What?”

“It is only for taking the two of us up, I swear,” he answers nervously, like he thinks I will slap him for the mere question.

One of my brows arches. (Fine, one on hand, I knew beforehand what I was getting into with the liana, but…)

“Will you be able to carry me with the wound on your shoulder reopened?”

“It doesn’t need that much mobility from my arm. Besides you don’t weigh much – I mean, I remember from when we got out of that Fire Nation ship at the South Pole,” he cuts himself off, “No… Not that I think about that much.”

Sokka scoffs yet again, louder this time.

“Uh… Thanks, Zuko,” (I guess so?) “And… sure, why not?”

His hand rubs the back of his neck. “Great, just… put your arms around my neck.”

I do.

I have to slightly push myself on the tips of my toes to fully surround his neck. One of his arms settles on my back and the other lifts my legs.

“Whoa,” I say. An involuntary giggle escapes my mouth. “So strong.” I don’t think I got to appreciate that back at the South Pole.

Sokka gags obnoxiously noisy. “Can’t you two leave that for when you’re alone?”

Another good thing about being an only child: no one interrupts your moments with your… uh…

You know what? Forget that.

“So, what now?” I ask.

“Hold on tight,” Zuko replies, recalling the words he told me at the South Pole.

Though, I barely have time to remember properly before he starts freaking running through the walls with me in his arms!

He does some of his crazy spins in the air for making us land right at the edge of the higher floor. I know this has already been a scream-filled night, but I can’t hold back a mini-shriek. “Ah!

Thank Spirits it ends soon! “A warning would have been welcome!”

“I told you I didn’t know if you would like the idea. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I say, even though I’m still clinging to his neck like my life depended on it. (For a moment, it did.)

“You are… strangling me.”

“Oh, sorry,” I let go of him and get to my feet. A bit dizzily.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Sokka protests from below. “Not all of us have a weightlifting acrobat on our side!”

“I can’t carry you here from there,” Zuko counters, “If what happened at the cliff served for something, it proved you are not exactly light.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a problem in the numbers, Sokka,” I point out. (Smugly.) (Just a tiny little bit.) “You should have thought better before coming in a group of three.”

“I’m telling Dad about this!” he threatens.

“Fine for me, as long as you tell him how we got here.”

Sokka never gets angry as much as I do, he’s too laid-back for that. There was one of his jokes that I hated when he said that after so many years of scowling at him I had grown a scary look. More than hating it, I never understood it. His eyes are clearer than mine, they are better to reflect fury. Like now that they are glaring at me.

“Whatev, I don’t care,” he dismisses turning his back to me, “I’ll find a way out myself. I don’t need you.”

My stomach ties into a knot. “We could come back for you after…”

“No,” he refuses gravely, “We’re each on our own now, ‘member?”

“C’mon, big brother, don’t be like this.”

He covers his ears. “Lalalalalalalala! I can’t hear you, you must be in a tunnel far away from my ears!”

Oh, real grown-up. Now I’m the one to glare. “Fine,” I bite out, “Let’s go, Zuko.”

I mentally thank him for remaining politely quiet during this whole exchange. We advance without a true destination circling through the stage.

“Jerk,” I say thinking about Sokka.

“Brat,” he answers back.

 

***

 

“These tunnels are strange,” Zuko observes, “None of them have an echo, so none of them are dead-ends, but…”

I miss that last part, I’m barely listening anyway.

Sokka is roving through the architecture, and looking between the columns and stone tables for... I don’t know. I would help him, if I only knew what’s here that is so important he would put his life in danger just to please our dad. For Spirit’s sake, we’re not children anymore, we don’t need to constantly be looking for his approval!

Who even is he for his opinion on us to matter? He can’t have one, he hasn’t seen us grow; he sure thinks we are still two little kids that will stay awake every night waiting for his return. We are not. I am not. I have grown, I can take care of myself and my brother. And Gran-Gran. And everyone our father left behind. I’ve been doing that since before he left, since Mom died, since forever. He knew that I could do that, but he didn’t think what it would be like to do it alone. He took me for granted.

Everyone takes me for granted.   

“Katara?”

I yelp to Zuko’s voice. “Oh. Sorry, I was…”

He follows my gaze to Sokka; when his eyes return, they are sympathetic. “You could try to talk to him.”

“You saw how he was, he won’t listen to me.”

“He…” I can see him trying to come up with a consoling enough of an answer, but I doubt that there is one that’s also sincere. “He sure didn’t mean it?”

I purse my lips, unconvinced.

“You and your younger brother used to fight like this?” I wonder.

The changes on his stance and his expression are subtle, but they are there: he stiffens, and his lips press together instinctively. His eyes are blank but feeling when he looks down. I understand that questions about his family from a hundred years ago can trigger unhappy feelings, but I expected those to be grief, not this… guilt that is painting Zuko’s face unnervingly white.

It makes his lips look rosier.

“Our fights used to be more… intense,” he says after a while.

I shouldn’t press on it. I really shouldn’t press on it. But…

“How so?”

He evades the question. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Here, let’s take this one.”

And he immediately proceeds to enter a random passageway in the wall. The need to roll my eyes mixes with the awful uneasiness I’ve been feeling since a while ago. Typical Zuko, I think. And it’s starting to become really tiring.

I follow him inside.

“You don’t really like to talk about yourself much, do you?” I say as we walk.

The cave is dark, even more than the path we took to get to that auditorium. Zuko lights another flame floating above his hand. “I don’t see the point in talking about myself.”

“That’s… humbling. But talking helps people to know you better, don’t you think?”

He shrugs. “Even if I did, you can never truly know someone.”

(Seriously?) “You are quite a pessimist for being the Avatar.”

“Being the Avatar has nothing to do with being an optimist.”

Yes, I’m starting to realize that, too.

It isn’t even funny; when I used to imagine the Avatar, I used to picture this faceless light of hope that ignited and vanished the darkness of the war around the world. And now I am seeing Zuko. The fire creates a show of yellowy lights and blurry shadows over his face, and he is only… human.

And sad, and insecure, and imperfect like a normal teenager.

Maybe that’s why I am so eager to get close to him. And it’s terrifying because humans are unpredictable, and they can lie, and they can leave. And Zuko is not giving me much basis to believe he won’t do either.

“I think there is light ahead,” he points forward into the tunnel.

We follow the whitish tray of moonlight until we reach yet a new hall, though not as big as the principal one we left behind. We are received by a high barrier blocking our way. It takes me a moment – and a good stretch of my neck – to realize it’s not a barrier, it is a peak built from the floor, almost tall enough to reach the ceiling with a sharp end on top. The light entering through the cracks on the walls make it appear like a fingernail. A claw. All the other peaks look alike, the room is filled with them.

“Katara, look away.”

There is an alarm in Zuko’s voice that makes me want to do exactly that, but I turn to him as a reflex, and I find what provoked such concern in him. A horrified gasp escapes my throat.

At the other side of the room, there are skeletons. Skeletons wearing Fire Nation colors and armors. The bones are fractured and spilled around some of the peaks, along with dark, dry stains.

Zuko shields me from the sight with his body before I can distinguish much, and my fist clenches on his jacket by instinct – in search of the smallest reassurance. Looking at the top of the peaks, I can see them as the main points from where… whatever that caused the stains… came from. And not too high above them there is a door shaped like the one we used to get here.

“This is one of the traps Gyatso told us about,” Zuko muses quietly. Inanely. If his voice was colored, it would be the same as the ghostly moonshine. “The Air Nomads must have used it to escape the Fire Nation a hundred years ago. They could soar, so they could pass without getting hurt… but the Fire Nation soldiers couldn’t.”

Zuko’s silhouette is a deep black shadow in front of me, one that I am holding unafraid until I can feel my blood stop its course through my fingers. Without that blood, there is only a weakening sensation that could be mistaken by fear if it wasn’t because fear makes you restless and hypersensitive, and this makes me feel frozen and inhuman.

Zuko conserves his human warmth despite the winter wind and despite the chilliness of what is in front of us – what he is staring at, directly.

His colors. His armors.

His people.

Dead.

“I thought the Air Nomads were pacifists,” I say, my voice is hollow.

His as well: “Pacifists have to survive, too.”

My hands let go and grip his arms, so tightly that for a moment I think I might leave bruises on his skin; my forehead presses against his back. How ironic, I never thought I would feel empathy over Fire Nation soldiers, I never imagined I would feel sorrow for anyone from the Fire Nation. But Zuko, he… he is only human.

And he is hurting.

He smells like morning dew…

The thunder of an avalanche and a shout resound through the tunnel awakening panic at the core of my heart. “Sokka!

 

 

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed it!!

Chapter 20: Chapter 十九: Separated

Notes:

Okay, guys, I admit it, I got hyped over ZK Latine Week this year and I took a while to update, but now I am 110% focused on this story! Let's do this! :-D

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sokka

Who needs a sister anyway? I’m living proof that brothers are the best!

Besides, what does Katara even care if I want to impress our dad? It’s not like she knows how wanting to impress someone feels like. She’s everybody’s tiny miracle and I tag along. (We should have that on a family album.)

I don’t need to tag along with her. Or with anyone. I’m supposed to be the strong one, that’s what Dad left me in charge of being. He knows I am capable of being that person, I know I can be that person. I’ll show him he didn’t make a mistake.

And I’ll show Katara she is making one by not taking me seriously!

Spoiled brat falls short for her, all she has to do is be born with special powers and everybody loves her. She is everyone’s cute little angel that talks about hope and fun and dreams! (Ugh!)

I really hate to break it to you, baby sister, but that’s not how the world works. I should know, I am older than you, I’m the one that got all those lectures about all the things I had to protect you from.

And granted, I haven’t done an excellent job at that. (Not all of us can be multifunctional on top of being benders like Katara is.)

Damn it, I need to stop thinking about my dumbass of a sister and start focusing on the matters at hand! I still haven’t found anything war-related in this amphitheater, I haven’t found anything… ancient-looking.

It is giving me The Creeps™, but nothing in this place looks remotely old. The tables, the walls, everything is clean, complete, secure, and honed like a recently built edifice would be. Or – to add to the Fear Factor – like an inhabited building would be. 

Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, that’s weird. It’s impossible for someone to survive living in these conditions.

It is possible that someone has been living here unnoticed the way Air Nomads have been living unseen for the past hundred years. (Say, just going out to get food?)

I get my club out – and yes, I carry a loooooooooot of weapons with me – and I hit it against one of the concrete columns in the hall over and over again while I think.

What are the chances of someone inhabiting this place?

I suppose the same ones that there are for the victims of genocide to survive unbeknownst to the rest of the world.

All of a sudden I realize there is… dirt… snowing… on top of my head.

I see; that’s how the ceiling stays put: the columns carry the soil, that’s why they are accommodated not too far away from each other, the vibrations my club produced made some of the dirt come down. All the roof is like a knitted sheet of earth.

… Isn’t it a little odd that this place looks made by earthbenders and not airbenders?

An underground lecture hall... beneath a mountain… built with concrete… and its very rooftop is the very earth.

Sure, you could guess the Air Nomads asked some Earth Kingdom fellas to construct this place when the four nations were in better terms, but why would Air Nomads want an underground anything?

Something is not clicking. Plus, it’s probable that whoever put this place up could the one keeping it from falling apart. Or at least someone with similar constructing abilities. And if this was made by earthbenders… it could mean someone outside the Southern Air Nomad camp knows about the secret passage and possibly the village.

Too bad that I don’t have time to get many conclusions. The rest of the ceiling decides to go where the earth goes: down.

Uh-oh.

Ah!

Okay, fine, baby sis. You were right; I should have listened to you.

 

Katara

Sokka! Sokka!

Between the hard, cold and hot breaths; and the hammering of my heart, the only thing I can think and hear is I won’t lose my brother.

I won’t lose the only family I have left.

 

Sokka

Why is everything trying to kill me tonight? The cliff, the roof, the air blast that comes out of the frikin’ nowhere and pushes me out of the way and to the upper floor–

Wait a minute.

“Aang?”

For once he’s not all rainbows and sunshine: “Stand back!”

I do.

We use the third-floor stage as much of a shelter as we can, and we cover our heads with our arms (for extra safety) while a piece of the ceiling booms against the floor. (Damn the dust!)

Aang and I cough in unison.

“Sokka!”

That was Katara’s voice.

Before I fully turn, she is already hugging me like I was the last lifeboat in the ocean.

“I’m so sorry, big brother! I love you, and you are not a jerk, and you’re not a stupid brother, and I’ll pull you up from a cliff any time, and I’ll help you look for everything about the war that you want, and… did I mention that I love you?”

Uh…

Awww!

“Thanks, sis, the feeling is mutual,” I pat her on the back. “But seriously, after almost getting myself killed two times in a row, I’m starting to think this wasn’t my best idea so far.”

“How glad I am you two aren’t fighting anymore,” Zuko cuts in, “But I think right now we owe somebody else some explanations.”

I freeze. “Riiiiiiiiiiiight. Somebody like a four-foot-tall ray of sunshine that surely will forgive us for being dumb teenagers.”

“I am five-feet tall,” Aang says. “And I would feel more like a ray of sunshine if I hadn’t come to look for you in the middle of the night!”

 

Aang

“Are the three of you crazy?” I scream. “Seriously, guys, normally I don’t allow myself to feel negative emotions, but even I am kind of angry right now!”

“We are so sorry, Aang,” Katara apologizes, “We weren’t thinking things through.”

“I know you weren’t! Why would you even come somewhere you were told not to come?”

“It’s a long story,” Sokka sighs.

“And how did you do to cross the cliff to get here anyway?”

“That one is…” Zuko trails off “another long story.”

Now I sigh. I’m so tired and confused. I get that I am not the most obedient disciple or the most disciplined one and that even if I were, I wouldn’t be in a position to judge others… but, for real, how wild it is to get yourself inside a labyrinth built only for airbenders to survive when you’re not an airbender? Is that a thing teenagers do? I am so not looking forward to growing up to that. (Though, if I did grow up to that, I could still go into airbenders-only places because I am an airbender, but… well… you get the idea.) (Would it be so bad if there were some other airbenders-only places outside of the villages?) (I could make some!) (If I was allowed to go outside of the village.)

“Aang, how was it that you found us?” 

Momo comes out from inside my shirt and curls around Zuko’s leg.

“Momo was the one who followed you, and then he came to look for me. He said you guys had entered a bad place,” I tell them.

“He ‘said’?” Sokka questions.

“That explains why I felt it was an animal following us in the forest.” Momo climbs through Zuko’s side to stand on his shoulder and lick his head.

“At least now that Aang is here we have someone to help us get back to the village,” Katara suggests.

“Yes, but we certainly can’t return the way we got in.” Sokka is looking down at the entryway. Well, it used to be the principal entryway to get to this hall, but now the mount of earth is blocking it.

“There is an opening to the surface now,” Katara points to it, “Aang could take us out using airbending so we can head back.”

I look at the hole in the roof. It was a big patch the one that fell, but… “I don’t know, it’s too dark for a person to be able to orientate, even I would have problems finding the right path from here. If we take too long to find shelter for the night, we could freeze.”

“So, finding our way to the Southern Air Temple remains as our only option,” Zuko states, taking Momo in his hands and away from his head.   

“Wait,” Sokka’s eyes grow, “I almost forgot about something.” He turns to me. “Aang, what are the chances that someone has been entering and exiting this place without you or the other Air Nomads noticing?”

Katara is the first one to react: “What?”

“What are you talking about?” Zuko queries.

“There is one and only one thing the three of us agreed tonight, right? There was something odd about this place,” Sokka explains. “The detailed cleanness and all. I was thinking, the only way to get this level of preservation is with constant, manual maintenance. The walls, the tables, not one of them has a single stain or a crack – or they didn’t, until the roof went south – and there aren’t signs of water filtrations.” He extends his arms to point to the entire hall. “It’s not possible for a structure to remain like this without periodically reapplying coating. At least.”

“And you are saying somebody has been coming only to do maintenance to the walls?”

“I’m saying this place has been kept and arranged by a third party’s intervention,” Sokka says. “Only that I don’t know who that third party is.”

“Sokka, it’s also impossible for someone to come and go without the village noticing,” I counter, “Without me noticing. I walk in and out these woods all the time, every day, and the entrance has always been abandoned.”

“Had you ever came in here, Aang?” Katara wonders.

“Of course not! It is forbidden!”

“Then you don’t know what this hall is either,” she mutters. I follow her eyes to the rest of the building.

Sokka is right about something, this isn’t typical Air Nomad construction. It’s too… conventional.

“We better get out of here,” Zuko concludes, cautiously. “If anything that we are saying is in fact true, then we have to keep whoever has been interfering with this building from finding us.”

“I sure hope they had a good insurance,” Sokka muses. “So… what now? We just go through the tunnels and hope for the best?”

Katara and Zuko tense. The two of them, at the same time, and they look at each other through the corner of their eyes.

“Uh… Sokka, can Zuko and I talk to you in private, please?” Katara takes him by the arm and drags him a bit away from me. “Aang, just… give us a minute.”

“And hold Momo while we talk, too,” Zuko hands Momo to me.

I watch the three of them talk (whisper) with their backs turned to me. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Sokka chokes all of a sudden: “What?

Zuko pushes his head down so they’ll be slightly hunched, but with how panicked they are now, their voices grow and I can hear bits and pieces:

“You can’t be serious!”

“It is serious! We can’t let him see that!”

“Are you talking about me?” I ask.

They don’t answer.

“Then we leave him waiting here?”

“We aren’t leaving anybody behind.”

“I’ll walk with him and make sure he doesn’t see anything he shouldn’t,” Katara says. “Okay?”

The three of them return to look at me.

“Okay, Aang, we have decided to split into groups for safety,” Sokka explains.

“I’ll be walking with you until we find an exit,” Katara announces.

I beam, my heart skips a beat, “Amazing!”

I jump to stand right next to her. This is the best night of my life!

 

Zuko

I watch Aang practically materialize himself next to Katara, standing excessively close to her. I frown.

Sokka – idiotic as he is – chuckles. “Oh, the night is improving already.”

“Shut up,” I bite out.

The four of us plan on making a sign for notifying the others if anyone finds an exit, Aang and Katara take one of the passageways. He is delighted, nearly tapping with each step he takes; it makes worry sting at my gut. He doesn’t know what is hidden in these tunnels. (I think none of us really know.)

Katara watches him go in first. Her head turns to me briefly, her eyes stare intently at mine. Steady. Strong.

I return her gaze with the same force. Be careful. She nods.

I watch her go in next.

Sokka’s equally idiotic hand lands on my shoulder. “Looks like it’s boys' night out, Zuko!”

I groan.

 

***

 

“So, there are skeletons hidden in the walls?” Sokka queries while we advance farther inside the walkway.

The texture of the walls is rougher on this one. If what Sokka deduced about someone performing maintenance is true, perhaps that maintenance is incomplete. Perhaps they will come back to finish it.

We have to escape before they do.

“Not in the walls,” I clarify, passing one of my hands over the irregular texture, “I think each of these tunnels leads to a death trap, and the remnants of old corpses are entombed in them.”

“Then it isn’t all that much of a good idea to wander around like this.”

“What other options do we have?” I ask. “Genuine question, since you are the one that figured out there is somebody else that could know about the Air Nomad village.”

“I’m afraid not even my geniality can come up with much on this one,” he says, “By the way, sorry that you’re stuck walking with me, I know you’d prefer hanging out with… someone else.”

I glare at him from the corner of my eye. “Forget it, let’s keep moving.”

My steps resound the more I try to speed up, but I can hear Sokka’s godawful mocking smirk! “Aang must be having fun on his date tonight, though.”

“Hey!” I halt and turn to face him. “That one is not a date!”

His smirk deepens; one of his eyebrows arches into a knowing expression. (Shit!)

I turn around yet again.

“Jealousy is such an unattractive emotion, Zuko,” he says.

I scoff. “Jealous? Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me, you are the one that goes all grumpy whenever Aang goes hearty-eyed for Katara.”

“I don’t– ”

“Yes, you do. Like, no shame, man. I wouldn’t be thrilled either if I saw a random dude flirting with the girl I like.”

The girl I like…

I feel my face warming up.

A part of me wants to deny that I like Katara – not… not because I truly dislike her, I just… don’t like her in the way Sokka is implying.

Yet… another part of me wonders if I do like Katara in that way.

I want to sigh and pull at my hair at the same time. Everything is so confusing lately, I try to keep everything and everyone at arm’s length, but I can’t! Things continue getting to me! Memories, feelings. I get triggered at the smallest things, and then I can’t properly articulate what is happening to me. I can’t make sense of anything! Because nothing has any sense! Every day I go on being assaulted by these weird sensations, by old recollections and new emotions, and I don’t know how to act, what is it even that I should do or say.

It isn’t just Katara, is everything. This new era, these mountains, the Air Nomads’ fear and rejection of me, this labyrinth they used to escape the people from my country – people like me – because they were trying to kill them, and dead bodies of people I didn’t know…

I pass a hand down my face, I can’t get distracted now. If I want all of us to get out of here safely, I can’t afford any more distractions.

 

Katara

“Aang, wait up!” I call out. “Don’t walk so ahead!”

He stops long enough for me to catch up. His eyes circle around the tunnel, eager and excited, even when there isn’t much to see or enough light to discern anything beyond mere shadows.

“Sorry, Katara,” he apologizes, “It’s just that I like getting to know new places.”

“That I can see,” I say with a smile. “But just don’t get too separated from me, okay? These tunnels are dangerous; Zuko and I already went through some of them.”

A shiver shakes me in my spot. It’s too mild for Aang to notice, but it leaves a cold sensation that I try to rub off from my arms. I remember the corpses we found at those peaks…

My eyes find Aang’s silhouette in the middle of the darkness; I can only picture the memory I have of him: a sweet boy with big, sparkly gray eyes and a big smile. I have to protect him from more sights like the one we found…

But I also wish I was with Zuko now.

At least, I wish we were all together as a group. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to talk much with him and ask how he feels after finding those skeletons, but I would feel like I was doing something to make him feel better. Trying to do something.

Everything that has happened tonight keeps putting me on edge. First, my brother almost dies twice. Now, I feel like I am not doing enough – that nothing is enough – to protect my friends, and I become disillusioned about my vision of the Avatar–

No. Not disillusioned, I…

 

Zuko

“This is impossible!” I yell. “There can’t be a dead-end in here!”

“Apparently there is,” Sokka notes.

I hit my palm against the squared walls. They are as solid as the rest of the construction, immovable.

“But there wasn’t anything that indicated that.”

He shrugs. “Life is as it comes, Zuko.”

The walls open then, the two lateral ones. They reveal other dark caves, caves that begin drawing in the air around us. Air conduits.

The current is tornado-like in its strength, my ears plug because of it. Its force is too much for us to resist it without anything to hold onto.

My feet glide over the floor as I am dragged inside.

“Zuko!”

The conduit at the other side of the corridor is pulling Sokka in.

I try to reach for him but the current keeps hauling me away. “Sokka!”

The caves swallow us in, the walls close.

 

Katara

“It looks like this is a dead-end,” Aang says, eyeing the surroundings.

“It looks like it,” I repeat.

Suddenly the two walls at each side of the corridor glide up. They discover air conduits that start sucking in everything inside this tunnel. Aang and I included.

“Katara!”

“Aang!”

None of us has time to reach for the other. I watch his shocked eyes disappear behind a closing wall, and then… darkness.

 

***

 

Zuko

After the conduits, the next thing I know is that I am sliding down a slope. For a long while, everything is dark, until another aperture opens, and I crash and roll over the floor. “Whoa!

I am in a sealed room, somewhat similar to the one Katara and I found earlier, save that this one doesn’t have any concrete peaks. The only similarities are the small ruptures on the walls from where the moonlight comes in, and the same wide doorframe nearing the ceiling. The one which, I assume, is the only exit to this room because the aperture from which I came is quick to close itself.

Oh, no.

 

Katara

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh–

My scream drowns – literally – when the ramp for which I was falling delivers me inside a pool filled with mossy water. It is almost totally covered by plant life…. and it’s soooooooooooooo cold!

I cough out the water I almost gulped while I tremble and embrace myself. My teeth chatter.

Freezing, freezing, freezing!

 

Sokka

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Those stupid conduits took me to fall down an endless hole!

No, you know what? Scratch that. I would have preferred an endless hole to hit my head against the floor the way I did.

And I would have preferred to just hit my head against the floor without the floor turning into some creepy, out-of-blue platform that almost crashes me against the roof.

Uh-oh.

 

Aang

I surf through the air the conduits sucked in. It’s pretty fun, actually, I should do this more often. If we had more air conduits like these ones at the village.

Maybe I could just come to this place more often.

No, I can’t do that, the Council of Elders could find out, they already know I used to escape to the Air Temple. (They don’t know I’m still going there.) But this is fun.

The end of the dark cave I was surfing through turned out to be an empty room.

Momo comes out of my shirt again, squawking.

“I don’t know, Momo,” I say, petting him, “Something weird happened at the tunnels, we have to find the others.”

There is an improvised climbing wall there, too, but there are only three stages on it and very separated from each other. There’s also a door at the top of it.

Oh, I get it. “Momo, get back inside my shirt and hold on.”

He does.

Walking to the climbing wall, I only jump and impulse myself with mini-tornados from my feet to scale it until I get to the door.

“There we go,” I say to Momo. “Easy peasy. I wonder how the others are doing.”

Notes:

Hope you liked it!! By the way, you may want to take a break here because the next chapter is a bit intense.

Chapter 21: Chapter 二十: Loneliness

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Katara

Perfect, I think with each tiny crash between my teeth. My wet hair falls over my eyes. Fantastic.

I swim over to the verge of the pool and push myself out.

Freezing, freezing, freezing!

And it’s worse now with the winter iciness surrounding me. I embrace myself tighter and rub my arms to fight the awful, awful, awful coldness! Sure, I am used to the cold, I even walk over snow barefoot, but not when I’m soaking wet in dangerously cold water! 

I have to get out of here.

Now, where am I again?

It doesn’t look like another deathtrap, (thank Spirits). It doesn’t look like much, just another abandoned room with more vines and roots hanging from the rooftop – another cape of earth with some holes from the plants growing through it.

It’s almost palace-like. (And the fancy decorative pool adds a lot to that image.) It would be beautiful if I was seeing it in other circumstances.

Speaking about seeing, I think there’s a door on the other side of the room; I scoot over to it.

It’s locked, and it has no doorknob. (Of course.) Instead, it has a bulging spot with small punctures.

I try hitting the door, but it’s solid as the concrete on the walls, it won’t move.

Darn, the temperature is getting lower!

I kneel down so my eyes are the same height of that weird knob, touching and studying blindly to see if there’s something – anything! – that will tell me how to open it. The more I probe, I can feel the lines and slits of a carving; they are spirals, and in an Air Nomad arrange. This must be one of those doors that open with airbending…

I bite my lip. (That does not come in handy to me.)

(Or maybe it does.)

(It’s a maybe, just a maybe, but…)

I return to the decorative pool. While my hand slowly snakes up, the water follows it, moving almost like a serpent itself. I cut the flow off when I have an amount around the same size as that circle on the stone door, and I make it float to it, too.

Okay, Katara, just focus and…

Nothing.

I add more pressure; nothing. Then I pressure it some more, but still nothing!

Urgh!

Okay. Think: When was the last time my waterbending worked as effectively as I need it now?

When Sokka made me angry and I broke Zuko’s iceberg. I had never bent like that before. I melted ice in polar temperatures, I got the tides out of their course.

Let’s see. Think about something that makes you angry, Katara.

When Sokka almost gets himself killed.

That’s good! What else?

Uh… Dad makes me angry. (Where is he right now, protecting us?) (How is leaving your children protecting them?

My palms tingle.

Not being listened to makes me angry. We could have avoided all this mess – the labyrinth, the skeletons – if nobody had wanted to get into a war-themed boys club or act all manly to prove they weren’t afraid of coming to a forbidden labyrinth!

The water’s particles morph under my hands, it’s somewhat of a waving sensation. They are breaking themselves, I can sense the cracking and the ruptures.

Incapacity makes me angry! I can’t even boil water with my own bending, for Spirit’s sake!

The particles are changing, moving, transforming into new ones; I can feel it. A small sting splashes against my palm.

The War makes me angry! Everything and everyone I have lost makes me angry! Leaving me to do everything, fix everything, solve everything makes me angry! Telling me I have to behave in front of people like Zhao in order to survive makes me angry! Maybe I don’t want to survive, not if it is like this! I want to fight, I want to win!

There isn’t any water anymore. There’s steam.

Yes!

I try to keep it enclosed in my hands as I can, and I approach it to the door. (I just hope it is dense enough.)

The holes in the door inhale it with a sharp sound. Suddenly I hear the door’s security device shifting, when it quietens down, I push the door open.

Yes! I owe Sokka a plate of seal jerky!

 

Sokka

This is fine. I’m fine.

Like, I am who-knows-how-many-feet away from the floor, but seriously, I’m fine!

It could be worse, the platform that shot up when I fell could have crushed me against the rooftop, (and this one is not soil, is concrete.) (Like the platform itself.)

I push myself to stand up, but my club falls. When it gets to the ground, another square platform climbs almost at my height. Almost.

Huh.

Awesome! The floor has motion sensors!

I look around for a door of sorts, and I find one. Right over the ground. Where it belongs. Only who-knows-how-many-feet beneath me.

(I think I’m coming down with vertigo.)

But, this is fine! I have a plan!

I take out my boomerang, too. “Don’t worry, Booms,” I tell him, “I’ll see you soon.”

Then I drop it.

It’s just a matter of touching the ground and another stage rises, but shorter than the other two. The sensors’ mechanism activates in relation to the object’s amount of mass.

This can still work.

I look down at the closest stage to mine, the one with my club. The breach between the two is not too big; the stage is relatively close, only… low. Just a little low. A tinny-bitty. Which is… totally fine.

I walk over to the edge so I can jump.

Then I turn around.

How is it that Zuko does; just jump and we’ll go from there? Sorry, I’m pretty fond of not breaking my skull split open, I’ll come up with a better method... but what other method there is? These stages are not very wide, to begin with! If at least I could reach the club from here, I could keep throwing it down to improvise a staircase. Where is Katara with her water tentacles when I need her? She’s probably still going through the channels and death traps–

Spirits, my little sister is walking in a labyrinth filled with deathtraps! (Reality hits hard!) I have to go get her!

Fine… For Katara… This is for Katara…

Ah!

I jump (cringe) (jump and cringe at the same time) and my eyes remain closed a tad longer after I land on the damn platform.

I sigh. Picking up the club, I use it to make another stage, and then another. When I get to Boomerang’s, I start throwing it in order to make shorter ones that resemble a real staircase.

And it worked, I got to the door! Ha, who says my plans never work?

I gasp. Katara says that my plans never work; I have to go look for her!

 

Zuko

I have to get out of here and search for the others. But the door is too high, I wouldn’t be able to reach it not even if I ran across the walls or jumped.

This room is reminiscing of that pit where Sokka and I fell: squared, impenetrable.

If I ran through the walls, I would only be able to get to the middle, and using my bending as propulsion wouldn’t get me high enough either. Not in a way that would have me landing directly in the pathway, I would have to hold on to the brink and push myself up. But with the wound of my arm…

I sigh resignedly and squeeze the bridge of my nose. I continue being cornered into these situations where my only option seems to be making reckless decisions. I try – I really try – but nothing that I do appears to be enough to safeguard others and then myself! I continue hurting myself! I can’t find better solutions! Everything I try comes back to slap me in the face!... But I am not giving up.

The thought encourages me to start running.

I manage to get slightly above the middle, and I impulse myself with a mild fire shot from my feet before I fall back down. My arm is still weak when I hold on to the doorframe’s verge. My shoulder’s muscles are giving in; I am slipping.

I am not giving up. I won’t give up. I…

It is difficult, and it hurts. My wound is beating. But I manage to crawl into the passage.

 

***

 

This part of the labyrinth is different from the rest. The hallways are in a complex arrangement, there are several of them showing at every turn, each leads to a different direction. The more I walk, the construction grows oddly more refined in style. Still deserted and these parts have deteriorated to a certain extent, however, the design becomes too extravagant for an underground structure. Like a mansion. Or a Palace.

A Palace.

The sound of footsteps makes me freeze; they are close and approximating. I hide in the shadows, attentive, and doing my best to control my breath.

The memory of the Fire Palace got under my skin. The Fire Palace. The Fire Nation. The nobles. The Agni Kai chamber–

Urgh, this is impossible!”

Katara?

Her big eyes seem clearer illumined by the flame on my hand.

They grow when they find me. They break the dimness.

“Zuko!”

It is a dark flash before she crashes against me. And such a shock to my system when her arms wrap around my neck that I don’t get to register it properly. I was seeing red fire surrounded by black smoke before she arrived. Now… it is gone.

It is bliss.

 

Katara

Zuko doesn’t return my hug for several seconds. A part of me wants to wait until he does… if he does.

That’s the point. It’s an if.

I have to let go before the moment becomes more awkward.

“Sorry.”

His eyes awaken in a literal blink, growing from static to broad and surprised. Understanding sparkles in them.

Guilt and regret turn them glassy. “Oh, no, no, I didn’t mean to – I mean, I…”

“Forget it,” I say. And I mean it.

He doesn’t talk for a long moment. Neither do I. His fingers twitch, as if he wanted to do something with his hands.

“Wait, why are you soaking?”

I resist the need to groan, “You don’t want to know.”

“And you have a leaf… on your hair.”

His hand finally extends to me; a few dripping ends of my hair brush his knuckles when he takes a nearly fluorescent-green piece of plant life from my head.

My face falls to my hands. “Oh, my gosh! It’s so embarrassing!”

“What happened to you?”

“Trust me, you really don’t wanna know. And where is Sokka?”

“We got separated. Where is Aang?”

“We got separated, too.”

A second passes.

“Dead end at the end of your tunnel?” he guesses.

“Moving walls and air conduits in yours?” I finish.

This time, we both groan.

“It’s this damn labyrinth!” I cry out. “When we get out of here, we will be the perfect guests to Gyatso and we will follow through with everything he says!”

“Deal. But first, we have to get out of here. And, more importantly, we have to keep you from catching bronchitis.”

His hands come to my shoulders – probably to provide a share of human warmth – and, this is probably for the flame that was floating over his hand, but they are burning compared to the coldness I was feeling. I shiver at the clash.

“You shouldn’t walk around in wet clothes.”

The lingering chatter of my teeth and the shaking make me speak in the poor imitation of a dumb chuckle, “I didn’t have plenty options.”

(There is something funny in the irony.)

“You want to wear my jacket?”

My mouth opens. I close it just as quickly.

“No, thanks,” I say. “I wouldn’t want you being the one freezing instead of me.”

“You know I can regulate my body temperature. I will be fine.”

(I won’t be.) (I won’t be with this weird thing going on between us.)

“Zuko, I’ll be fine too. Trust me.”

Once more, he doesn’t say anything, not right away. For his expression, I think he realizes asking for my trust at this moment would come out as hypocrite, but also… “Katara, I am worried about you.”

I only stare at him.

He is being sincere – on this, at the very least – but I want to ask why is he worried at all, worried about me. He keeps closing himself off, maintaining me as far away as he can; with every step that I take to come close, he takes one back. It’s not that I don’t respect it, I just don’t understand it. (What is the point in spending time with people you don’t care to befriend?) That might be why I thought I was disappointed in him earlier.

I am not disappointed; I am confused.

Hurt.

His features are truthfully worn down with worry though, I can tell for how close we are standing.

“Okay.”

 

Zuko

I take off my jacket and give it to Katara. The rest of her clothes underneath her parka are also wet and sticking to her body. I look away while she changes. I think it is out of respect and for giving myself time to detach from the moment and think. Or to refrain from hitting myself on the face.

The thoughts I was having earlier return; those weird feelings and the doubt whether what to do or say. I am acutely aware of Katara’s presence next to me, I remember how cold she was when I touched her… and I am not completely clueless, I get that this is bothering her, too, and causing tension, but… There is something…

“Thanks again for the jacket,” she accomodates it over her shoulders. “It is comfy.”

She begins to undo her braids.

I must have reacted to it somehow because she explains: “It is damaging for the hair to have it wet and braided.”

 “Oh,” I mutter. “I… um… didn’t know.”

“Now you do,” she comments. “C’mon, let’s go find Sokka and Aang.”

We navigate across the corridors in silence, Katara continues combing her hair with her fingers as we walk. Her hair looks thicker when loose. And shorter and shinier when wet…

“You should keep your eyes ahead.”

She barely has time to finish before I crash against a wall.

Her hand moves slowly to cover her mouth, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I unglue my face from the concrete. “Sorry, I was… distracted.”

She hums, contemplatively.

“You… um… you look good with your hair loose,” I say while we resume walking. “I mean, your hair is the one that looks good. But… but the rest of you looks good, too! Wait, that came out wrong. I meant…”

Katara giggles. “Zuko, relax. Thank you for noticing. About my hair.”

“Right,” I say. “No need to thank me.”

She smiles. I look away.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that this part of the labyrinth looks so little like a labyrinth and more like a mansion?” she muses.

“It reminds of the Fire Palace.”

“That’s strange for an Air Nomad building.”

“This could date back from before the War started.”

“The Fire Nation had a good relationship with the other countries then?”

I take a long while to answer. “Not really. My father wasn’t eager to develop diplomatic relationships, he was… overconfident about his government and the Fire Nation’s strength.”

“Overconfident,” Katara repeats as if she tasting the word with a bitter flavor.

“Sorry,” I apologize. “I get that… it isn’t pleasing to talk about him.”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s… You don’t seem all that fond of your family yourself.”

Not even I know whether I am going to answer that.

“I am not.”

 

Katara

‘I am not.’

Contradicting emotions and thoughts form in my head. I could be happier upon Zuko’s answer, or relieved… if his eyes were not so broken and his voice so grave.

From what I have learned, there are reasons – personal reasons – for his father not to occupy a big place in his heart. I know he had hurt Zuko in one way or the other. It is bizarre because, normally, I would attribute that innate cruelty to the Fire Nation in general, to the Royal Family. But Zuko is Fire Nation. He is part of the Royal Family.

And he is only human.

“You think Sokka and Aang are okay?” I try to change the subject.

“I bet they are.”

“Do you think Aang could have found other corpses?”

“You and I haven’t found any so far.”

I nod meditatively. “By the way, I’m sorry that you had to see those skeletons, too.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He halts. “Hey, don’t you see light over there?”

I do, actually, at the end of another of the multiple turns. We walk towards it; it looks more like a reflection of light.

We find out why when we get to the end of the corridor. It is a cupule, a glass cupule.

Whoa!

It is buried under the earth and the snow. The change of the seasons must have brushed a bit of them away, the light passes the transparent ceiling; the rest of the sphere goes down beneath the subsoil. All of it would be a more interesting and stunning view if there weren’t more Fire Nation skeletons scattered over the floor.

My voice is reminiscing of the hiss of an ice serpent, “Is this another death trap?”

“I can’t tell,” Zuko answers in a similar tone. “It is empty, there is nothing that could serve as a threat.”

He is right. Save for a thick line with holes going through the middle, the rest of the cupule is complete, harmless crystal. And there isn’t blood around.

“We have to keep Aang away from here.”

I nod.

My eyes sway back to the bones. “Shouldn’t we do something for the corpses?”

It feels… wrong to leave them like this.

Zuko gazes at them for a brief moment. It isn’t enough for me to figure out what emotions cross his face, but there is something there–

“We can’t run the risk that Sokka is right and somebody will tell we intruded,” he concludes, “we have to leave.”

Before I have time to blink, he is already walking back into the pitch-black hallway.

“You don’t always have to act like nothing affects you.” I watch the darkness return and expand around us while I walk after him.

He doesn’t turn to me for answering. “You think nothing affects me?”

“I think you try really hard to act like they don’t, but things get to you. They hurt you. And they make you feel confused. That’s why you act so angry all the time.”

 

Zuko

I know that I am angry now.

I stop dead on my tracks and spin to Katara. She returns my stare uninterruptedly, unafraid; her eyes are still clearer in the darkness.

As real water, they reflect the light from my fire but different, distorted. Instead of golden yellow, it is blinding white. I wouldn’t notice if we weren’t so close, if she wasn’t always so close to me. And it makes me angry because I am so used to be left alone. That is the key: I am used to that, I know how to deal with that, not with this. Not with Katara standing so confident and open in front of me.

We are interrupted by the sound of voices:

“I’m telling you, Sokka, this place is awesome!”

“Aang, just calm down, okay?”

Katara and I run, “Aang, Sokka!”

Sokka immediately picks her up from the floor once he gets to her.

“Katara!” He lifts her from the ground in an embrace and spins around with her in his arms. “Don’t you ever get lost like that again! But wait, why are you wet?”

“It’s… another long story,” she indicates as he puts her down.

“And why are you wearing Zuko’s jacket?”

“That is…” I trail off “another long story.”

His eyes shoot between Katara and me. She and I look somewhere else, I rub the back of my neck.

Right,” he drags the word. “You’ll tell me about it later. In the meantime, can someone please smack some reason into Aang? He wants to stay here!”

Katara and I choke: “What?

“He thinks all the Air Nomad stuff in here are fun! He doesn’t want to leave!”

“That can’t be,” I say. “Aang–”

He isn’t here anymore.

Where –

The end of the corridor. The cupule!

Katara, Sokka, and I run to the weak, bluish light; we almost slither over the floor when we halt. Aang is already there, staring at the skeletons. His dark outline looks even smaller and more fragile in front of them.

Katara rushes to him. “Aang!” she hugs him. “Never leave like that again.”

He does not answer.

“Aang, do not look at them,” I tell him.

He remains silent, his eyes are fixed on the bones.

I make my voice firm, “We are leaving. Now.”

But before we have the chance, when Sokka steps into the room, the entrance closes with a rock-solid barrier.

“Oh, come on!” he complains.

The sound of a mechanism activates beneath us, I assume it is hidden amidst the soil surrounding this sphere. The holes in the black line circling the cupule start making a strange, loud sound. Too loud, deafening. They are… absorbing the air.

Oh, Agni!

That is how the Fire Nation soldiers died. That is why there is no blood on this trap, they suffocated!

Oh, Spirits!

“We have to get out of here!” I yell.

Katara, Sokka, and Aang are all panicked; I can see it in their eyes. Their lively, wide, sensitive eyes.

I have to get them out of here.

“Aang, can you use your airbending to stop those things?” Katara questions.

He finally responds: “Let me try.”

He does, pulling and gathering the air in front of him.

The force of the suction is too much, the air inevitably follows the current.

“I can’t keep it here!”

“Zuko, can you break the top of the cupule?” Sokka points to it.

“Let me try with firebending. All of you, cover yourselves.”

I shoot as big of a fire blast as I can to the ceiling, but the irregular flow of air is also making my fire come out deformed and altered. I go blind when it hits against the top, the fire deflects and flies everywhere. The glass doesn’t succumb.

“Try again,” Katara insists. “Please.”

I do. It is still not enough.

I keep launching attacks, one after the other. Fast, continued, desperate; growling at the ineffectiveness. The combustion keeps blinding me. My fire is becoming weaker for the growing lack of air. I am fighting… to only grasp air to breathe.

“Guys, calm down,” Sokka says. He looks… dizzy, unsteady, with his hand on his throat. “Breathe slowly.”

His voice is difficult to hear under the commotion, it is too… hoarse.

Dying.

My throat… feels… weird.

Katara and Aang hold their own necks and mouths trying to keep the remaining air from escaping. Their figures are becoming blurry. I am… giddy. Choking noises come out of my sore throat.

Zuko.”

My eyes can only focus on unclear shadows, but when they lift upon Katara’s voice, I can see her.

I see Katara.

Barely.

I cling to the sight of her.

 

Katara

Zuko is turning blurrier.

Just like Sokka moments ago.

I keep… believing… there is a way to escape this place… To… get us… out of here… Because I have seen Zuko… do amazing things.

I try… to reach for him.

And I can’t… blindly trust him… because he isn’t this… idealized version… I had… of an Avatar… or a friend…

But if he was…  he wouldn’t be… this close…

He wouldn’t… be… human.

I faint.

 

Zuko

Katara’s body drops.

Just like Aang’s.

Just like Sokka’s.

I have… to get them out of here.

I am not… giving up.

Using whatever strength I have left, I drag myself to one of the orifices…

I am not… giving up.

I put my hand over it.

I am not

I am…

Power stirs–

 

***

 

“Zuko!” A hand slaps my face softly. “Zuko, wake up.”

“Gyatso?” I cough, ungluing my back from the snow.

My chest and throat feel raw. Heavy.

“Zuko, you are okay!” Katara’s arms come around me, crushing me.

Katara…

I see her kneeled, I see her fainting…

“Katara!” I exclaim once the thoughts and memories become clear. “What happened? We were in that godawful cupule, and then– ”

“You entered the Avatar State,” Sokka explains, sitting not too far away from us. “You shot an airbending blast that exploded the mechanism that was sucking the air.”

“You saved us, Zuko!” Aang comes along to join the hug.

My eyes go over to Gyatso standing on his feet, looking down at us.

“Oh, right,” Sokka says, “Turns out that thing went on for miles so Gyatso could hear the explosion from the camp. He is the one that came to look for us. He had to break the glass from the outside.”

His thumb hooks to the side and I follow it to find the remnants of what used to be the visible part of the underground cupule. Now it is just broken glass.

“Oh, Spirits, Gyatso, we are so sorry!” I say, standing up now that Katara and Aang let go of me. “It was all stupid idea and we didn’t mean to– ”

He waves one hand as if discarding it, his facial features never lose their affable appearance. “It is okay, Zuko. After such an eventful night, I am only glad the four of you are safe.”

Katara, Aang, Sokka, and I sigh in relief.

“But also, you are grounded. The four of you. You will be primping the flying bisons back at the village for the rest of the week.”

 

***

 

Gyatso takes us back to the camp.

I am drained. And thinking too much. My heart is beating too fast despite barely having the energy to move my legs, my boots dig profoundly into the snow. It is incredibly painstaking to take a single step.

“By the way, Zuko,” Katara calls before we get into our tents. “Have your jacket back. Thanks again for letting me borrow it.”

I blink hard as she takes the ruby red jacket off.

Right, I gave it to her because her parka was wet.

If it wasn’t because Katara hasn’t braided her hair again – and because she is actually wearing my jacket – I would attribute it all to a dream. Everything back at that labyrinth feels like a dream, different hallucinations in one. Nightmares, night terrors.

Katara was a good dream.

She hands me the jacket.

“Thanks.”

“Thanks to you,” she smiles.

Her skin is glowing. Healthy. Glimmering. Save for few bluish spots on her wrists – the bruises she got back at that pier shortly after we met.

“Your bruises are healing already.”

“Oh, yeah. They are getting better.”

“You still don’t want to talk about that?”

Katara rubs her wrists gently, covering the marks. “Not really,” she murmurs through the cold wind. “I guess I understand if there are things that you don’t want to talk about either.”

I look down.

“We are friends. Right, Zuko?”

The question surprises me.

It is not so much the question though, it is the word friends.

I don’t… I am not used to having friends. I don’t… I don’t think I am… someone easy to befriend. Or to remain friends with. That is what I want Katara to understand. It is scary for me.

Overthinking makes me silent, and Katara’s question remains unanswered. (Not that I think it would have been much better if I spoke.) Disappointment and hurt wear her features down, making her face almost as dark as the night. My fist clenches on my jacket.

I consider you my friend.”

My eyes dart back up to her after her words, but it is too late. She already left for her tent.

Notes:

Hope you liked it!! By the way, you may want to take a break here because the next chapter is a bit intense.

Chapter 22: Chapter 二十一: Healing energy

Notes:

I'm very happy to finally be posting this chapter!! I've been meaning to publish it since days ago, but you probably know about all the news regarding the series and Netflix and etc, and how overwhelming the ATLA fandom is on a regular day, it's worse when news like this breakthrough. Besides, I've been getting lots of mocking comments for this AU on other sites, and people making fun of first-person writing. And then there are all the troubles some idiots are causing to this site and... Well, my mental health is probably not at its top atm, but writing this story makes me feel better! :-) Thanks to all of you for your amazing comments and support! :-*

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Zuko

Aang looks down at us from Appa’s back. “Guys, don’t panic when the scarab-turtles come out!”

He uses a horizontal airbending move to ruffle and comb Appa’s hair, and the scarab-turtle horde escapes from it unnerved. Gross! Despite his warning, Sokka does panics when the cringe-inducing things start moving in our direction. Not that I blame him, but I swear, one more of his ear-breaking screams and I am losing my eardrums for good! He clings to Katara, using her as a shield.

“I told you not to panic,” Aang jumps down from Appa and starts shooing the scarabs away with a broom.

“Sokka had a bad experience with insects once when he was on a trip with our dad,” Katara explains.

“I swear they were making a nest in my hair!” Sokka protests.

“Scarab-turtles don’t make nests, Sokka,” Katara counters.

“This is ridiculous,” I grit, “I am royalty, I shouldn’t be doing these things!”

“Oh, really? How many bison primping employees did you have at your palace, your Majesty-Sir-Lord?” Sokka mocks.

“Shut up! You are the one that got us stuck with this punishment for all the past week!”

An entire week that I have spent washing bison’s mouths, getting fleas out of their fur, getting their hair all over my clothes, cleaning their feet… Ugh!

My fault?”

“Yes, Mister ‘Let’s all go to a forbidden labyrinth that could get us all killed’!”

“And who went there just to prove that nobody bosses him around, huh, tough guy?”

Katara groans, her hands fly to her head. “Boys, I don’t want you to fight anymore!”

Sokka points accusingly to me. “It was your boyfriend who started it!”

Katara gives a swift, abrupt spin to confront him; her eyes are lighted up with ferocity, “How many times do I have to tell you that Zuko. Is. Not. My. Boyfriend!

The broom she was holding hits the ground harshly when she drops it. Tiny bits of snow and dirt jump from the floor. Katara doesn’t give those or either Sokka or me a second look before stomping away in fury.  

Sokka runs after her. “Katara, come back, we still have to brush the other bisons!”

Her head is high in a gracious pose… but also an offended one… as she walks away. Her steps are as firm as her words: ‘Zuko is not my boyfriend.’

Something shifts in my stomach; I think I am coming down with… something.

Aang stood watching our argument from beside.

“Being a grown-up seems complicated,” he muses.

Sokka was right. Aang is a smart boy.

Lately, his eyes are different, their characteristic brightness is not there anymore, they look a darker shade of gray, one that makes the brown and hazel touches more notorious. And his eyelids are downer, I wonder if he has been getting enough sleep.

My mind flashes back to when we found him staring at the Fire Nation skeletons at the labyrinth. (Aang has a natural fragile appearance, aside from the obvious that he is short and skinny, but at that moment, he looked frail like a doll.) (Devoid of human emotion.) My fists clench strongly at my sides. We haven’t talked about that ever since, I guess I should have addressed it somehow, but I am not good with kids… Or I don’t think that I am.

I want to rip off my own hair! (Why is it so difficult to just make friends?)

Gyatso walks by the bisons’ stables. “Everything okay over here?”

“Yep,” Aang answers.

“Where are Katara and Sokka?”

“They… um…” I search for a good enough excuse without revealing too much “… went to look for another broom?”

Why did that come out as a question?

“Uh-huh,” Gyatso mutters. “Well, if that’s the case, Zuko is time for your airbending training. Aang, Katara, and Sokka will finish brushing the bisons.”

“Going,” I say. “Bye, Aang.”

His voice drops. “Bye, Zuko.”

I jump over the fence to meet with Gyatso.

 

***

 

“How is your relationship with your new friends going, Zuko?”

Saying that Gyatso’s question catches me out of guard is a euphemism.

Today is unusually sunny for a winter day. Some of the sunrays creep between the tree leaves, and Gyatso is getting most of it, but he doesn’t seem to mind much. He was silent for the largest part of our road to the training area, it gave me time to get lost in my thoughts… My thoughts about Aang, Katara, and Sokka, and how much they hate me right now.

“I… um… good!” I lie. “Good, excellent.”

“I am glad to hear that, I thought I had seen you fighting a lot with Sokka and Katara lately.”

My mouth falls open, but then I shut it close; my teeth click. “Not with Katara,” I say, finally.

Katara barely talks to me.

Katara is avoiding me.

Katara hates me!

And it is not that I blame her for it, but I also want her to stop, but I also can’t talk to her because I am me, and an idiot, and… Ugh!

want to talk to her. I really, really, really do, but I don’t know how!

Hey, Katara. So, what I said about us being friends… or what I didn’t say. The thing is… I did want to say something, I just didn’t know what. No, wait, it is not that I didn’t know what to say, because I did know what to say. Like, I knew the satisfying answer to that question. But you don’t really want to hear me calling it a ‘satisfying’ answer to your question. What I meant is…

I growl aloud.

“I’ll make a risky guess from that and say things aren’t going as great as you say,” Gyatso notes.

“I don’t know what they want from me,” I retort, frustrated, “We barely know each other.”

“I think they want to be your friends.”

“I don’t have friends, okay? I do things alone!”

“And how has that worked for you so far?”

I stop myself from speaking when I realize the answer is ‘Not very well’.

Gyatso side-eyes me and I scowl. “Whatever. What do you know?”

 

***

 

Gyatso puts me to walk in circles. Literally.

It is an ancient airbending exercise: the dais in the forest has smaller-diameter circles carved into its surface and I have to walk around their edges in low stances[1]. Gyatso watches me closely. We haven’t done much progress in airbending practice the last week. He quitted his efforts to make me meditate, (and I am thankful for that), but none of the other airbending methods works in me either. Gyatso says I am too harsh, too impatient, and that airbending is supposed to train sensitivity and softness. But I know for a fact that it is also meant to teach straightforwardness and the ability to shock your opponents. That would be useful for me… if I could only create a single breeze of air on command.

“Hey,” I say, without abandoning my steps, “How long do you think it will take before I can actually airbend?”

Gyatso watches me in silence for a few more seconds, his eyes linger on my joints and bandages. (In the end, I didn’t need stitching on my shoulder.) “I think that depends on you.”

He does not shrug, but his tone and his energy are way too relaxed to not feel trivializing.

“What do you mean?” I press.

Does he think I am not making enough effort to improve? Just who does he think he is?

No, maybe it is that I am not making enough effort to improve; I could be better. I could be stronger. Agiler. Faster. More calculating. More vicious. I could be … My attacks could be more aggressive, my stance could be straighter. Like my father trained me, like he told me I should be.

The ghost of a great sting stirs my back muscles.

I should be…

“This ain’t about you not being enough, Zuko.”

I trip on my feet and barely avoid hitting the ground. Gyatso’s eyes follow me as I stabilize myself.

“What…” I am not sure if I am laughing or just breathing nervously. “What do you mean?”

This time he does shrug. “Nothing. Why don’t you take a rest before continuing?”

 “You know I don’t have time to rest,” I remind him.

“That doesn’t sound like something an airbender would say.”

would like to argue with him… but he is the only airbender around.

Growling, I go sit next to him at the edge of the dais.

“You seem distracted today,” he notes, his voice soft.

“I…” am running out of time, keeping secrets, and fighting with the people I shouldn’t. “I have a lot in my mind,” I settle.

“Oh! Having a dynamic mind is quite an advantage for airbenders.”

“It doesn’t feel like an advantage.”

“Must be because whatever is keeping your mind busy is interfering with your Ch’i[2],” Gyatso reasons.

He takes a broken stick from the ground and writes the kanji 氣 on the snow. “Ch’i is the vital force that forms part of all living entities. It translates as ‘air’. Fitting, right?”

My eyes follow his traces over the snow, I imagine myself copying them with my firebending. They would be different that way, the edges dented. (Not exactly an airbender look.) Ironically, it makes me want to draw the kanji by myself because I am used to that aggressive, serrated look. The sting on my back reappears when a realization comes over me: It is the one I know best.

(Not exactly an airbender mindset.)

“And how can I fix my Ch’i?”

“It isn’t ‘fixed’,” Gyatso emphasizes, his tone deep, “It is balanced and cultivated with Qigong[3].” He draws its kanji 氣功 next. “But it involves a lot of breathing and meditation, and I know that is not of your taste. Besides, energy can’t be ‘fixed’, it ain’t something static. It changes, so it can be morphed, and be born as something new.”

This kanji’s marks are soft, too. Not the way I would have drawn it.

My palms tickle with a quiet, but bright instinct; the urge of my skin to be close to the fire. I rub them together to repress it.

“Can bad energy be turned into good energy?” I query.

All of Gyatso’s features are round; it gives his face a jovial aspect, especially his eyes. They glow with child-like compassion when they come up to meet mine, his wrinkles are the ones that make them look severer.

“Energy is neither good nor bad, Zuko. Our actions and choices put it through tests and through work, we make it useful, and only we can make it healing or destructive.” He pauses. “You can go on to practice your firebending for a while if you want,” he tells me, standing up. “I know you are anxious about it.”

I blink. “How did you…”

He grins. “Elders know more than what they appear.”

 

***

 

Did Gyatso had to show off like that? Pretentious monk! Seriously, who does he think he is? Wasn’t he eavesdropping when I said I am the one that is royalty? He thinks he knows everything only because he is old! Who the hell needs him!

I keep grunting and cursing on my way back to the camp.

Looks like Aang decided to come to the forest to practice his own airbending.

He is on a clear performing that walk Gyatso told me to do; visible, dense gusts come from his palms when he moves his hands in similar circular motions, and he catches the air again before it can leave the circle. He hasn’t noticed I am here him which is… surprising, considering how his eyes are usually going everywhere. The same way he is always moving even while he is standing in a same place; it contrasts with the controlled, calculated steps he is giving right now.

I probably should leave him alone to continue his practice, but I want to take note of his posture and his movements. See if I can copy them. (It is rather strange, isn’t it?) (That I am looking up to a child.)

(But, then again, Aang is a talented bender.)  

I tell him so when he finishes his practice: “Nice moves, Aang.”

He gives a mild yelp at my voice, recognition fills his eyes once he turns. “Oh, thanks, Zuko. Geesh, you scared me.”

“I apologize.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I always zone out real hard when I’m training.”

Momo comes out of his shirt upon our conversation and planes over to me. When he drops himself, I have no other option than to catch him in my arms.

“Momo is a bit clingy after what happened in the labyrinth,” Aang clarifies, “I think he feels safe with you, too.”

“Oh.”

Momo stares at me with big, soulful eyes.

I move my arms to position him in a way I can carry him more… um… ergonomically.

“Aang, about what happened at the labyrinth…” I start. “About the skeletons…” his gaze falls, it darkens. “Have… Have you talked to Gyatso about it?”

I keep feeling like I want to punch myself! (Why is it that every time I mean to say something, I say something else entirely?)

“No,” he answers, still looking down.

“Why not?”

He shrugs right before sitting at the feet of one tree. He doesn’t look like a doll anymore, he only looks… small.

I go sit next to him.

“I think I am not a very good monk apprentice,” he declares.

“Why would you say that?”

“I’m always doing stuff I am supposed not to do, going to places I’m supposed not to go, thinking things I’m supposed not to think.”

“How is it that you are not supposed to think certain things?” Momo tries to climb to my head, I hold him back.

“It’s just…” Aang’s phrase turns into a melancholic whisper. “I see things different from what Air Nomad culture dictates. I try real hard to faithfully follow our precepts, but sometimes I don’t do it very well. I think sometimes they are disappointing, because I can’t see things the way I do, and I think I got disappointed again when I saw… what really was inside that labyrinth,” he finalizes. “It hurts to become disappointed in something you hold so close.”

My eyes mimic his look towards the ground. “Yes, I get what you mean.”

We stay in silence for a while longer; my hand distractedly pats Momo’s head.

“Maybe sometimes disappointment is not so bad…”

That prompts Aang to finally look at my face.

“Back at the Fire Nation, I figured out some dark truths about something” (someone) “that I held very dear. At first, I was sad and angry, and it made me do many things, and not all of them were good… but they brought me here. And… I know things haven’t been perfect... but everything is alright now. A little? I guess?”

One of Aang’s hands goes to his chin while he considers what I just said. (Did I… Did I explain myself properly?) (I could… I could have worded it better. Or use better analogies. Or metaphors. Or something!)

“Thanks, Zuko,” he brightens. “That actually makes me feel a bit better.”

“Really?”

His head gives a strong nod. “Really.”

“Oh… Glad that I could help then!”

“By the way, how did today’s practice go?”

“I still can’t create air by myself,” I continue restraining Momo from reaching my scalp. “Gyatso says something is interfering with my Ch’i.” And because I can still feel his eyes on me, I add: “And I am a slow student, okay?”

“I think I can help with that.” He stands up. “I’ll tell you about it later. C’mon, Momo, let’s go find Gyatso.”

Momo flies from my arms to his shoulder.

 

***

 

My conversation with Aang made me feel considerably better than what I was feeling the rest of the day. Making him feel better made me feel better. How odd. But I like it!

Reminiscing about life at the Fire Nation wasn’t something I enjoyed. It has become something I don’t enjoy at all… but it made me put certain things in perspective. The flashbacks to the Agni Kai with my father, the nightmares, the memories of the Fire Nation at night and under its broad sun. Everything changes, it comes to my mind in a different way. The only thing that does not change is the angry stare of my father, not even when I remember easier, happier times. The time before I was revealed as the Avatar.

It… Those times… they feel like they weren’t ever real.

They feel like ghosts, like… other things that I have remembered today. I wonder… I want to think that ours… was a happy family.

In a way. For some time. For whatever little time it was.

I want to believe it so badly, I want to believe my father used to be proud of me, even if it was in the past. That my mother was with me. That my brother… didn’t hate me. I want to believe that I belonged.

I want to hang on to those… illusions; I don’t care what they are, but I don’t want them to go! Not yet, I… can’t let go yet.

I almost don’t notice when I get to the stables looking for Druk; Katara is there, petting him.

We both freeze when we catch sight of one another. My mouth falls slightly open.

“Oh…” Her hands slowly go away from Druk’s nose. She pulls out a smile after brushing a hair behind her ear, “Hey, Zuko! How was airbending practice today?”

I wonder if I could ask Druk to hide me inside his mouth for a while. I kind of look at him silently praying that he will, but he only stares at me blankly.

Stupid dragon!

“Um… Good!” I tell Katara. “Gyatso is still putting me to perform antique airbending exercises.”

“Good.” She nods.

The dense, awkward silence begins between us.

“I… was just passing by to play with Druk for a while,” Katara indicates. “I didn’t know you’d come back so early.”

I didn’t know you’d come back so early.

Right.

“Gyatso told me I could come to practice my firebending.”

“Oh…” she repeats. Same word, same forced smile. “Later then!”

She twirls around and leaves, I don’t have time to stop her.

And it is not that I have a good enough of an excuse to make her stay, just… Don’t go.

Druk is still staring at me with his know-it-all face.

“What?” I protest. “I didn’t do anything!”

He grunts and curls into himself. (It is his way of saying ‘And I didn’t say anything’.)

 

***

 

The next morning, I take back what I said about enjoying cheering Aang up.

“Zuko, Zuko! Wake up!”

I dig my face into my pillow. “Why?”

He carries on his efforts to shake me awake. “We are going on a trip!”

Spirits, is way too early for this!

 

***

 

At least I am not the only one irritated by this surprise trip. “Aang, can you at least tell us where are we going?” Sokka’s demand is audible even when Druk and I fly next to Appa. (Sokka and Katara decided to ride with Aang.)

Aang’s cheery, sing-song voice breaks through the wind. “I told you it is a surprise!”

It really is way too early for this!

The wind becomes lighter as Aang guides us to the southerner regions of the Tanggula Mountains, the weather transforms from deep cold to tempered. It is a nice change compared to the thick snow at the camp. The landscape is also nice, it is as if watching the layers of snow melt while we fly; Druk makes a little pleased sound to let me know he likes it here, too.

I like this place: the mountains, the Southern Air Nomad village. Last week has been… normal. It has only been Aang, Sokka, Katara, and I sharing a punishment for our collective stupidity; Gyatso watching over us, calling us to our meals, calling me to my airbending training. It is… a comfortable routine. I guess.

“Okay, guys, we are here!” Aang proclaims once we land.

“Where are we?” I wonder.

“This is the Khong river[4]! Check it out!”

We follow his gesture to the rest of the scenery. The river is massive, the current powerful but calm at the same time. Thin channels disembogue in wide lakes across lanes of forest green grass encircled by pronounced hills. It is hidden but open at the same time.   

“Aang, it’s beautiful!” Katara exclaims.

“But what are we doing here?” I venture.

“We were grounded for all the past week, I thought about celebrating it is over by bringing you guys for a swim,” he says. “Gyatso told me it was okay.”

“Aang, you know I don’t have time to– ”

Appa roars and hops into one of the river’s mouths. What is a small step for him creates a big fucking wave for us, wetting us all. Sokka spits the water that fell inside his mouth.

“Are you kidding me?” I screech.

“Ha, ha,” Katara teases, looking at her brother and me while she unties her braids, “Now you two know what it feels like.”

“See, guys? Appa is already in the mood!” Aang beams. “C’mon, I’ll teach y’all windsurfing!”

He takes off his shirt and jumps into the water. (Simple like that.)

I look over to Katara and Sokka. He is the first one to shrug: “We are already here.”

And he proceeds to take off his parka.

“What, for real?” They can’t be serious! (Someone tell me they aren’t serious.)

Katara copies his shrug. “We had a stressful week.”

She takes off her parka next, and the rest of the blue-colored fabric she wears beneath it. Her hair tousles when she removes her shirt and her fingers comb it over her shoulders. The only remaining cover on her upper half is her white sarashi; the burn scar on her back is in full display, descending in line with her spine. Its pinkish tone and the whiteness of her sarashi crash against Katara’s warm brown skin. Deep warm brown.

She very nearly shines bronze…

Sokka snaps his fingers right in front of my eyes. “Looking for something?”

I am taken aback: “Wha… What? What are you talking about?”

Dude. You were ogling my sister right in front of me! Seriously, is nothing sacred anymore?”

“I wasn’t ogling!

“I better get in the water now,” Katara muses, all her clothes away and discarded on the ground.

She looks like a water goddess. A few drops from the lake hit me on the face when she dives in.

“Hey,” Sokka warns, “I am watching you.” And he makes the dumb thing of pointing to his eyes and then at me.

He jumps in next.

Aang waits for them to swim closer and uses his airbending to cut the water and splash them some more, Katara splashes him back without her bending. Sokka uses Momo as some kind of towel/shield. All of them seem so happy…

Druk’s nose gives me a light push from behind. Then another.

“You want me to go in, too?”

He whimpers and nods.

“You know I am not good at social things. Don’t you remember all the events I spent at the dragon stalls back at the Fire Palace?”

He somewhat laughs.

“And you know about…” my hand goes to my back “the other stuff.”

He gives a small half-cry.

“So you think I need to relax, huh?”

He nods again.

“Fine, if you are so worried, I will do it.”

He brightens.

“I will wet my feet in and then get out.”

He frowns.

I take off my boots before approaching the water. It isn’t cold, not much.

Aang, Katara, and Sokka are still having fun with each other. They don’t need me, they don’t seem to notice I am not there. It is for the best; what I told Druk was true, I am not good at social meetings. I am not the kind of person people feel comfortable with, I am better off with animals like Druk. Or this frog-faced softshell turtle[5] tangled in algae that is having difficulties getting in the water.

Druk approaches it hungrily.  

“No, Druk, you are not eating it,” I tell him. Then I detangle the turtle. (It has it easier to get into the water after that.)

Awwwwwww!

Ah!” I yelp back.

Katara smirks at me from the water, her arms crossed resting over the edge of the river’s mouth. The ends of her wet hair leak over them.

“Do you always have to come out of nowhere like that?” I wonder.

“No,” she admits, “but it is fun.”

I give her a dry look.

“Where are Aang and Sokka?” I end up asking.

She points to somewhere away into the channels. Aang brought a slider with him for this – an improvised sailboat-like board with a long piece of orange cloth attached to it – he is using it to teach Sokka to windsurf as he said he would.

“You don’t want to get in the water?” Katara asks.

“I… um… am not really a fan of swimming.”

“I try to not take that as a personal offense,” she jokes. It brings a small smile to my face. “So… now you’re a turtle rescuer, too?”

I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I thought you didn’t believe you were a sweet guy.”

“You are making it too much of a big deal.”

“Am I?” she smirks.

I stare at her some more. Water flows down her neck and pools at her clavicle and the cleavage of her sarashi. My entire face flushes, I take my eyes away from her.

“I thought you were mad at me,” I conclude, recalling the past week.

The radiance of her natural optimism doesn’t leave her face, but a dark shade of hurt mixes in it. Guilt settles at my gut, and I open my mouth to apologize for everything that has happened – for me being a mess, for not knowing what to do with myself – but Katara is faster. When her eyes meet mine again they aren’t hurt, they are sober. So is her voice:

“I wasn’t mad at you, Zuko. You said we weren’t friends, I was trying to give you some space.”

My mouth shuts close.

“I didn’t say we weren’t friends,” I remind her after a pause.

“You didn’t say much.”

I know.

“You don’t have to call me your friend, Zuko, if you don’t want to,” she continues. “But it’s hard… to be the one that’s always making the effort for things to work.”

Suddenly the water, (the atmosphere, the very ground, Katara’s presence) feels… stony. Away. “I am sorry.”

She doesn’t reply, but her silence is indulgent.

“You wanted to know me better, right?” I ask.

She eyes me with a curious expression, before nodding.

“Tell me what you want to know.”

(I know what she wants to know.) (And I want to try to answer it.)

“What does your name mean?”

(Okay… I wasn’t expecting that.)

‘Zuko’ is not a very common name,” she explains further. “What does it mean? ‘Katara’ means droplet, for example. Appropriate, don’t you think?”

It is, indeed; Katara’s eyes truly resemble droplets. Lakes. Splashing, twinkling, lively, peaceful water.

“Glory,” I answer. “It means glory.”

“How is it written?”

I draw the kanjis into the ground with my fingers.

ズーコ

Zuko.

“How is ‘Katara’ written?”

She looks at my name’s kanji for a few seconds, studying it intently. Then she smiles.

“The Water Tribes have their own language.” Water drips from all of her body when she pushes herself to sit at the edge of the river like me, retaining enough space for her to draw her own name next to mine.

ᑲᑕᕋ [6]

Katara.

“See?” She points to the three characters separately, individually. “Ka… ta… ra.”

I watch her fingers count the fonts. My own fingers come to float over them, tracing them in thin air.  

“Oh, by the way, aren’t you cold?” awareness hits me. “Since you just came out of the water… Um… Do you want to take my jacket again?”

I don’t wait for her answer before taking it off and putting it over her shoulders.

Katara giggles, “Thanks.” She embraces herself into the jacket. “But you’re still not a sweet guy, huh?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Aang and Sokka sail in our direction discarding the water and using Aang’s airbending only. “Hey, what are you two talking about?”

“Zuko is not a fan of swimming.”

“Say what?” Aang pouts.

“Huh. I think we should’ve guessed that,” Sokka states dryly.

I pour water into my hand and splatter it on his face. “Oh, sorry.” Not.

Aang and Katara laugh while Sokka wipes the excess of water with one of his hands, glaring at me. “You feel very brave for being in the element of the Water Tribe, fiery boy.”

“Last that I heard, Katara was the waterbender here.”

“Yeah, but we are siblings. We share everything.”

“Really?” Katara inquires, sarcastic and self-importantly. “Then why can’t I touch your weaponry bag?”

Sokka makes a face, “Because those are not for girls.”

This time, Katara is the one that spatters water on her brother’s face using her own bending. He falls from the glider. Aang, Katara, and I laugh at it.

“Typical,” Sokka spits water yet again, “Everybody gangs up on the smart, charismatic guy.”

“We’ll make sure to do that once we find a guy like that,” Katara vows, smirking.

Sokka’s eyes narrow at her.

Druk comes from behind my back and pushes me into the water.

“Or maybe it doesn’t always have to be a guy like that,” Sokka muses.

 

***

 

This trio of lunatics convinced me to stay in the water. More accurately, they distracted me from getting out by starting a splashing contest, and then Aang dragged us upstream – (not literally) – so he could continue his windsurfing lesson.

To be honest… I am not complaining. This is… nice. Nice as in the way I felt when I thought how much I like these mountains. Even better, because the tension between the four of us disappeared. There are no recent fights or resentment lurking. It is just… us. Together. Here.

“Shouldn’t you take your shirt off, too, while we’re swimming?” Katara asks from my side. We are watching Aang and Sokka struggle with the slider. “You could really catch a cold like that.”

I haven’t removed my shirt since Druk shoved me into the river – (which reminds me that I will be giving him the cold-shoulder for a month! See if he likes that!) – My lips press together in concern, the same one that stretches my stomach, twisting it and tying it in tense knots. It is nearly hard to breathe.

“Katara,” I pronounce her name aloud, even though I only meant to think it. “Would you still want to be my friend… if you found out something bad about me? Something awful.”

Her answer is not immediate, but this silence is not awkward, it is pleasant and brief; the kind of silence that comes when you already know an answer: “Yes.”

 

Katara

I watch Zuko pull off his garnet-red shirt by his shoulders, his other scars – the ones all over his torso and on his back – reveal themselves slowly with each shift. I have seen them before, all the times I have treated his injuries, but each time, they look different. Sometimes their color is faint and barely visible against Zuko’s skin. Some other times, they look fleshier, in just a slightly lesser way than his scarred eye.

Today, they have that grimmer appearance. Mainly the ones on his back. The others on his chest and stomach are healed, moon-colored cuts. But the ones going down from his shoulders blades to his waist are a more notorious, fleshy pink. Healed as well, yet the injuries were obviously too deep for the skin to patch itself properly. They are slim, long, straight scars.

Whipping scars.

“I don’t like being shirtless,” Zuko starts. His fingers trace a transversal cut over his chest, climbing to his shoulder. “When the War was about to start… when my father was planning it… he wanted me to be the weapon he would use to defeat the other nations… That was not long after I was proclaimed as the Avatar. It is why I didn’t learn the other elements sooner, he wanted me to defeat the rest of the world using firebending alone… prove the greatness of the Fire Nation with it.”

I gulp.

“I know,” he says, taking notice of it. “I am sorry. Um… I wasn’t a complete firebending master back then either, and I… learned slowly. So he used to… spur me.”

His hand reaches his shoulder, a pinkish tip near the curve of his neck.

I manage to keep my voice serene despite this dark feeling, a dark vortex spreading and consuming me, “He used to whip you.”

“With firebending whips. For getting the message across.”

My blood quits its course; it freezes, stopping my heart and organs.

My eyes fixate on the place where Zuko’s fingers used to be. Looking at him upfront, it’d impossible to tell such a seemingly small mark was part of such a much greater damage.

So very slowly, my hand moves towards it…

Zuko’s muscles jump violently at the contact. “Sorry.” (He is the one who apologizes.) “I don’t like people touching my scars, even the doctors had to restrain me.”

“No, no, it was my fault,” I rush to say. “I am the one who overstepped.”

 

Zuko

I think about what I told Gyatso about Katara, Aang, and Sokka barely knowing me. There are things that are better left unknown, things that are easier to look at if you don’t know the history behind them. If something is only broken on the inside, people can’t tell it is defective; they can’t if the fractures remain hidden… but Katara is seeing mine.

Her hand comes closer once more, her fingers flutter over my sternum. It is one of the few pieces of my skin that doesn’t have any scars and she carefully avoids the rest of them. Then her hand moves to the right side of my face, the unscarred one. This feels different from when she hugged me at the labyrinth; it feels more like a choice, not just an impulse.

I can see the remaining bruises on her wrist; they have become a faded shade of purplish-blue. A part of me wants to take her wrist and caress them. To comfort her. To try some of that physical reassurance that Katara always does. But I…

 

Katara

I watch Zuko’s hand drop clumsily from the space separating us.

It’s all starting to come together now. Ever since the start, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to reach out to me, he didn’t know how to. He has never known. In some way, I think I should be relieved. (None of the fights and silences and misunderstandings have been our fault.) But it is not relief that I feel, it is dread.

“It isn’t that I don’t want to call us friends, Katara,” Zuko’s voice is delicate, “I just… I think there are… things about me… that aren’t well, and… I need time… to get used to... a lot of stuff.”

“I understand.”

I understand, Zuko.

I glide my hand away from his face. His skin is soft.

Aang and Sokka are still battling to keep Sokka from falling off the slider. Appa, Momo, and Druk are shaking the extra water from their bodies. Their laughs, half-hearted complaints, and the swash of the water fill the scenery. This beautiful river and mountains. It is isolated; it’s only the four of us relaxing, and swimming, and being silly together. For once, not everything is about mere survival or avoiding a catastrophe.

“This is nice,” I smile at Zuko.

He smiles back. “It is.”

***

Zuko

We return to the camp at sundown. Spirits, I am exhausted! Druk is, too; I think Katara as well for the way she leans against my back while we ride back to the camp, (she flew with me on this one). Sokka is asleep and snoring on Appa’s back, Appa and Druk are flying fairly low. And we are all starving.

Gyatso receives us once we land at the village’s entrance, Aang comes down from Appa to give him an excited embrace.

“How did it go, kids?” Gyatso wonders, surrounding Aang in his arms. “Did you have fun?”

“We had a blast!” Aang assures him.

The rest of us are considerably less energetic than him. Katara drags her feet over the snow, Sokka falls from Appa’s back, I feel drained, my muscles are sore. However, Aang is right about something: it was fun. Our shared delight is palpable in the air.

“Glad to hear that,” Gyatso’s own eyes light up with satisfaction upon seeing our grinning faces. “And I hope you are hungry, I made egg custard tart.”

Aang beams at him. “Whoa! Swimming day and egg custard tart for dinner? Is it my birthday?”

“We’ll make sure to do this again on your birthday, Aang,” Sokka promises him.

“Awesome! But first…” He goes to look for something in the bag he took for the trip, a large rock that he picked up when we were returning. “Zuko, do you remember the airbending moves you saw me doing?”

“Yes,” I say.

He puts the rock in his hand on top of a much bigger, table-sized one close to us. “Try to shoot one to this rock.”

I blink. “What?”

His shrug is nonchalant. “Just do it.”

Gyatso shrugs, too, once I look at him for confirmation.

Whatever. (How was it that Aang did?) Position myself in a low stance, bowing my knees. Circular motions of my hands around one another. Extending my right hand ahead…

A blast of air comes out of my palm and tumbles down the rock Aang was carrying. My jaw drops at the same time it does.

“There you go!”

How… What… I turn to Aang. “How did you…”

“You said something was interfering with your energy, right?” he recalls as if nothing that just happened was a big deal! “I know you’re not a fan of meditation so, on top of celebrating our punishment was over, I thought a day out would help you loosen up.”

This kid!

Katara crushes him in a hug and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Aang, you are the best!

“Best airbending master ever!” Sokka cheers. “No offense, Gyatso.”

“Why would I be offended that someone gave my student the credit he deserves?”

I am elated, euphoria rises from deep inside my chest. I am smiling so much that my face hurts. “Druk, did you see that?

Notes:

Trivia:

[1] This is a reference to the practice of Baguazhang, also called Bagua or Pakua chang, the Chinese martial art that inspired Airbending. All its forms use circle walking as an essential part of training.

[2] Qi or Ch’i: It is believed to be a vital force that is part of any living entity. Qi translates as “air”.

[3] Qigong: It is a millennia-old system of coordinated body-posture and movement, breathing, and meditation utilized for health and spirituality purposes and martial arts training.

[4] This is a reference to the Mekong River, a trans-boundary river in East Asia and Southeast Asia. It is the world's twelfth longest river and the seventh longest in Asia. It is originally called “Mae Nam Khong” from a diminished form of Tai shortened to “Mae Khong”. “Khong” is an ancient word meaning “river”, lent from Austroasiatic languages, such as Vietnamese.

[5] Frog-faced softshell turtle: The Asian giant softshell turtle, also known as Cantor's giant softshell turtle and the frog-faced softshell turtle, is a species of freshwater turtle native to Southeast Asia. The species is endangered and throughout the 20th century it has disappeared from much of its former range, but it can still be found along a stretch of the Mekong River in Cambodia.

[6] Katara’s name written in Inuktitut language.

Chapter 23: Chapter 二十二: Destructive energy

Notes:

Here it is! I intended to post it last night, but my Wi-Fi has been giving me trouble.

Anyways, as we say in my country: “Ahora es cuando esto se pone serio.”

By the way, I’m currently in times of need, so I have to ask for your help. If you could only take a look and share the pinned post on my Tumblr page (https://heavensweetheart.tumblr.com) I would be very grateful 

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Aang

It’s been another week since Zuko airbent for the first time. (I’m very proud of myself, I’m the one that got him to do it!) (Not that I am gloating.) (Much?) (I suppose I have the right to gloat, I had never performed as a master before!) (Not that I can call myself a master yet.) (But I had never taught anything to anyone! It makes me feel special!) (Is this what Gyatso feels when he teaches me?) (Should I ask him?) (Just so I can know if I’m being a good master.)

“Watch out, Aang!”

(Monkeyfeathers! Now Zuko is ahead of me in our airbending race!)

I move jumping on the tree trunks. Really jumping. (It’s ironic that I can bounce like this over wood, right?) Cloud-like booms come out of my hands and feet for pushing me from one point to the other. Zuko runs over and across the twigs, casting a thick airbending current under his feet for surfing from one tree to the other. Once he reaches the end of a branch, the wind is already formed and amassed for taking him away.

It’s a nice technique and all, but why the acrobatics when you can project yourself to trees meters away? That’s what I do: three jumps and I’m already ahead of Zuko.

“I’ll see you in the finish line!” I celebrate past him.

“We’ll see about that.”

Right then, he ditches the tree branches and skates over the air propelling himself with his firebending! The flame coming out of his hand grows with the breeze he is using to float and rockets him forward. He actually gets to the clear we set as the finish line first!

“Hey, that’s not fair!” I complain once I land after him. “You were using your stunts and your firebending, this was supposed to be an airbending race!”

“You are more experienced than me in airbending, you had advantage. I was just evening the field.”

I give him a fitful ‘hmph’. But, when I think about it a bit better, it is… “Well, you have the originality of a natural airbender, pupil Zuko.”

Whoa! Check it out, he’s blushing!

“Sorry, guys,” Katara comes out from the woods, breathing a bit heavily. “We stayed behind.”

“Where’s Sokka?”

He is… dragging himself face-to-the-ground for getting to us. “I’m here,” he drones with his mouth filled with snow.

“Need some help there, old guy?” Katara jokes.

“These jerks seriously expected the rest of us to follow their faster-than-the-wind drill?”

“Sokka, have you ever thought that physical performances are not your forte?” Zuko wonders.

“Forgive me for being only human, your Avatarness.”

Zuko frowns. “Jerk.”

“Douche.”

“Look, a scarab-turtle nest!”

That finally makes Sokka hop from the floor. (His face left an impression on the snow.) “What? Where?” he shrieks.

Katara, Zuko, and I chuckle at it. Sokka, not so much.

Lately, we’ve been getting along better. Like… it feels as if we have solved something. Whatever it was. And we haven’t encountered much trouble since then.

Unless the hawk that screeches and soars on top of us, using its claws to rip a few hairs from Zuko’s ponytail, counts as one.

Ouch!

“What’s the big idea?” Sokka says while we stare after the hawk.

Zuko’s eyes grow: “Guys! That’s a Fire Nation hawk!”

 

***

 

I take Katara and Sokka on my glider while we chase the hawk across the Patola Mountains, Zuko slides over the air like he was doing in our race. Monkeyfeathers, the hawk is fast! Right when we think we are getting closer, it speeds up. Zuko keeps accelerating until he becomes unsteady and staggers. Thank Spirits he doesn’t fall, but something tells me we better catch that hawk before he does something to prove me an awful teacher!

“Shit, I can’t get to it!” he yells.

“Lemme try!” Sokka says over… across… I don’t know how to describe it, the wind is pushing his cheeks way back, and is hard to understand him that way.

He takes out a rope with some heavy balls on each end and throws it to the hawk. The rope spins in the air and keeps doing it once it reaches the hawk, tying its feet and its wings so it’ll stop flying. When it drops, Zuko (literally) windsurfs down to grab it.

I take us down as well.

The hawk, now in Zuko’s hands, tries to peck its way out.

“Where do you think you are going, you pretentious chicken?” Zuko groans, skipping its beak.

“It really is a Fire Nation hawk?” Katara asks when we run to look closer at it.

It has red feathers. That might be a clue.

“Yes,” Zuko murmurs, still trying to keep his fingers safe. “It is a tracker hawk. Look at the fetter in its feet, that is how the Fire Army marks its hawks.”

“Do they know that we are here?” Katara’s voice is inflexible.

“They probably sent it to find out.”

“But why would they send a hawk to these mountains?” I question. “Nobody has been here in a hundred years.”

“Because someone just woke up after a hundred years,” Sokka points out, glancing at Zuko. (The hawk is giving him a good fight.)

“But who in the Fire Nation knows that the Avatar is back?” I continue.

The three of them freeze.

It’s a little funny: their eyes pop wide open and suddenly they are like statues midsentence. Sokka even has his hand on his chin like he was posing for being sculpted.

Zuko stops his struggle with the hawk, his whole body is gawkily inclined. It would be funnier… if I couldn’t tell something is very, very wrong. (I suppose everything that has to do with the Fire Nation is wrong, but… something is more wrong than wrong.)

Zuko gets out of his daze and turns his head to Sokka. Sokka stares back at him. He only gets out of the ‘freezy state’ to pronounce a deep: “No.

 Zuko turns to Katara next. I can’t fully distinguish if whatever is in her eyes is fear or disbelief.

“It can’t be,” she claims. About whatever it is that can’t be.

(I don’t know, we have seen that a lot of things can be.) (Who could have thought an entire mountain could be hollow enough to fit a labyrinth?) (Is the entire mountain hollow?) (I could go back and check.) (Oh, wait…) (The skeletons.)

Leaving that aside, I think Zuko has an idea. He’s turning the hawk’s feet up to check the silver circle surrounding one of them.

His eyes grow again and even their color pales along with his face, “Zhao!”

 

 

Katara

Sokka swears: “That actual son of a– ”

“Hey, watch your language! There are little ones here!” I scold him, pointing at Aang.

“Yeah, I forgot.”

He goes on to cover Aang’s ears himself, “That sonofabitch!”

He sighs once he lets go of Aang’s head. “Glad that I got that out of my system.”

If the situation wasn’t the one it is, I would argue with my brother, but I can’t even bring myself to count the things I would reproach him when all of them are so ridiculous in comparison to what’s happening!

I remember the day we got to the Southern Air Nomad village; I can’t recall exactly at what moment, but that day I got the feeling the Fire Nation could (and would) come for us.

“Who’s Zhao?” Aang asks.

Geez, where do I start? “A pig!” I say.

Sokka provides some clarification: “He’s some old idiot who doesn’t like to shave that messed with us in the Southern Water Tribe.”

“He’s the reason why we had to flee the Southern Water Tribe!” I emphasize.

Dark rage grows inside me at the memory of my home destroyed, literally shed to diminutive pieces of ice and snow; it is not the kind of rage that urges you to attack, it is not red and boiling. It is the kind of black resentment that becomes bigger and bigger, deeper and deeper. The kind that fuels you, so when you do attack it won’t be a hit… it will be a nightmare.

“What do we do now?” I ask in Zuko’s way, anxious to do something, to stop what needs to be stopped and save what needs to be saved.

He is staring pensively at the Fire Nation hawk trapped by the bolases[1] Sokka threw. All the emotions reflected in Zuko’s face – (anger, annoyance, sadness) – are joint by familiarity; that one is their only common ground. The single root all of them share.

His words are final, silencing any further discussion: “We have to tell the village.”

 

***

 

We do, we return to the village and tell the other Air Nomads about the hawk that we brought with us.

The first thing they do is call Tashi so he’ll drag us to be judged by the Council of Elders.

 

Zuko

Tashi factually drags the four of us by the back of our collars; we squirm in an attempt to ease the tightness around our necks.

Surprisingly, and for once, I am the one that is following most obediently. Katara and Sokka make identical grimaces of discomfort and Aang’s legs are kicking in all directions as a protest, but I know that for the way things look, the more amenable I, in specific, act, the better.

The front of my jacket crushes my throat, triggering my gag reflex, until Tashi delivers us in yet another circular area, where the elders meet. We passed it when we went out of the village just this morning…

He snatches the hawk off from my grip; the bird gives a mild screech as though it wants to stay with me. The whole thing accentuates the bad omen in the scene.

“Guys, we have to kneel,” Aang indicates.

He doesn’t look scared, but he is not in his usual cheery demeanor. His mouth is a straight line.

We obey and kneel in front of the elders as they take seats.

“What are we supposed to say?” I ask Aang in a whisper, I can feel Katara and Sokka leaning in to listen as well.

“Just say the truth. We broke the rules, but we had nothing to do with the Fire Nation thing.”

I can’t decide if this is one of the times when I admire Aang’s innocent nature or when it makes me angry. We had everything to do with it! I had everything to do with it! I know that! The elders know that, I can see it in the way they look at me!

An innate ‘fight or flight’ instinct makes my hands shake before their stares, and the more they look at me, the more my nerves vibrate signaling danger. My body presses me to pick one of the two options–

‘Rise and fight, Prince Zuko.’

I think I am going to get sick.

“Explain, children,” the village’s High Monk, Pasang, interrupts my thoughts, “what were you doing in the Patola Mountain range near the Southern Air Temple?”

It isn’t that I am dodging the question, I just notice Gyatso’s seat is empty: “Where is Monk Gyatso?”

Tashi’s answer is not explicitly taunting, but I can tell it was meant to be: “We assumed that his close relationship with both you and Aang might cloud his judgement in this trial.”

“This is a trial?”

“It is a meeting,” Pasang asserts, “For discussing what is best for our village. And the future of certain ones that form part of it.”

That last part was directed to Aang; he ducks his head ashamed and afraid.

I grind my teeth. “Aang had nothing to do with anything that happened!”

“You meant he didn’t go into the Southern Air Temple’s territory when he knows it is strictly forbidden?”

“That…” (I remember what Aang said about telling the truth, but…) “That was my idea,” I say. “I told him I wanted to practice my airbending away from the village.”

“No!” Aang denies strongly. “That’s not true. I’m the one that took them there, we were just playing.”

“But we went willingly,” Katara interrupts, “And we didn’t stop him! We should have; blame us, not him!”

“Blame me for the explosion from two weeks ago!” Sokka exclaims, and he points towards us, “None of them seem so bad now, right?”

“Kids, your loyalty between yourselves is admirable,” Pasang notes, “Nevertheless, it hardly provides solutions for the greater problems our village is facing.”

“Ever since you arrived here, Avatar Zuko,” Tashi intervenes, “You have done nothing but cause chaos.”

I am the one causing chaos?” I retort, incredulous. And angry! I am so angry! “You tried to asphyxiate me! You pinned them to trees!” I gesture to Aang, Katara and Sokka. “Everything that happened was your fault!”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, young man!”

“Tashi,” Pasang reprimands and soothes him at the same time. “Avatar Zuko, we understand that the state of affairs in the world is complicated, but our culture has suffered enough in the name of this war. I am sorry, but I am afraid we are no longer in a position to aid you in your path to learning airbending. Please, abandon the Southern Air Village as soon as possible.”

My mouth falls open, but I can’t perceive air to inhale. It is like being trapped back at that cupule; I can’t breathe.

Gyatso enters the meeting; Aang, Katara and Sokka run to him.

I am aware of the movement, the commotion, the words being spoken. Them pleading Gyatso to do something about this, him addressing the Council. But I stay behind staring into nothingness, incapable of reacting. (Maybe this is it. Maybe I am defective and this powerlessness is my flaw.)

(Maybe I am weak.)

It is typical of Gyatso to never lose his pleasant composure, despite alarming news, despite facing authority figures. (Heh. Seems like everybody is better at that than I am.) He is not standing right in front of me, but his arm is slightly stretched in what could be a general gesture if it didn’t so strategically block my sight of Pasang and Tashi, keeping me from looking at them and vice versa.

I appreciate it, that instinct of fear and danger did nothing but grow the more I look them in the eye. Like with an ostrich horse, my body is impatiently spurring me to fight.

‘Rise and fight, Prince Zuko.’

You get the hell out of my head!

“I fail to see why I wasn’t convoked to a meeting of the Council surrounding the fate of one of my students,” Gyatso says.

“Is it really not obvious that your judgement is compromised because of your attachment to him?” Tashi lashes back. His question stings, even when he delivers it while sitting straight and peaceful padmasana.

“Are you judging my student?”

“That’s not it,” Pasang assures. “But even you, Gyatso, have to admit that ever since the Avatar arrived, our village has become more vulnerable. To natural disasters and attacks from the Fire Nation.”

“If I recall correctly, it was Zuko who saved our village from a natural disaster,” Gyatso counters with a light voice.

“He was the one that provoked it!” Tashi shouts.

“Wasn’t it because his Avatar Spirit responded when facing an act of violence? In addition, if my memory keeps its impressive labor, you were an instigator in that act. Ain’t that right, Monk Tashi?”

When Tashi scowls, it is like watching a snake do so while changing its skin. Ew!

“Glad we have settled that incident was only a chain reaction,” Gyatso smiles, “Rooted in thoughtless judgments from the very beginning. What else demands such an imperative assembly today?”

“Your pupils found a Fire Nation tracker hawk today. It was most certainly sent to locate the Avatar.”

“You found the hawk?” Gyatso questions in Aang’s way.

“It attacked us,” Aang recaps, “We were standing in a clear and it used its claws to take some of Zuko’s hairs.”

“Proofs that it found the target,” Gyatso muses. He returns to face the council, “Yet, as you can see, my students were hardly the cause of this incident.”

“You don’t see how it was Avatar Zuko’s presence that put our village on the Fire Nation’s radar?”

“The Fire Nation doesn’t know what we are here,” I intervene, standing up and walking to stand next to Gyatso. “The person who sent the hawk is someone we faced in the past, and we sunk his ship that time. He never got to follow us once we left the Southern Water Tribe.”

“This person is your enemy? Personally?”

I remember Zhao standing and looking down at me on the ground. The hate I felt for him then.

“Yes,” I affirm, clenching my fists. Clutching the hate I feel now. 

“This proves my student is much less responsible for this situation than he was for the incident of the avalanche,” Gyatso notes. “He is a victim here as well.”

Tashi is ready to argue: “How can we know if he is telling the truth?”

“We are his witnesses,” Katara jumps to say. “The person tracking him went for him at the South Pole first and destroyed our village.”

“So, effectively, we are fostering the prey of such a merciless being,” Tashi ruminates.

“And the correct action to take is sending him to become a much easier, unprotected, unsupported prey?” Gyatso replies.

Guess not even Tashi can invalidate that.

The elders exchange a look between each other. “Alright, Gyatso. He may stay, but from now on, everyone has it forbidden to step outside the village’s territory. There will be no exceptions. We can’t expose Air Nomads to be spotted by the Fire Nation either.”

Gyatso bows. “Fair decision.”

“And the Avatar will be the one responsible for that hawk,” Tashi adds, “Our principles forbid us from exterminating it, but we can’t allow that it goes back to the Fire Army.”

I will be taking care of that thing?” I repeat, very much bewildered.

The elders ignore me. “Oh, and Gyatso… Keep a better eye on your wards from now on.”

 

***

 

Making barbecue doesn’t go against my principles! I could roast this bird and be over with this!

“Hey, it isn’t like I love this idea either,” I yell across the bars of the cage they brought to my tent, “so would you just calm down?”

Brainless mock-of duster doesn’t listen and keeps on his tries to scratch and peck my hands! I wouldn’t even be doing this if it wasn’t to take away the fetter in its feet! I should leave it there!

The clash of his wings and nails against the metal is continuous and discordant, I imagine this is what it would sound like if knives rained. Finally, I manage to get to its feet and use a fire nail from my finger to cut off the metal.

There! Happy now?”

Once I pull the shackle away, the hawk relaxes. The iron was tight, and it produced an imbalance of weight in its legs, a deep depression; it has trouble standing on its feet because of it.

“You are lucky that everyone ate here before we headed out this morning,” I tell it once I pass it Sokka’s leftovers from breakfast. “You have to get fatter to fix the distribution of weight.”

The hawk accepts the food once I put it in front of him inside the cage.

“You are not bad, right?” I tickle its head with one of my fingers across the bars. He lets me do it. “You don’t want to be bad, you are just angry.” (And I know how that feels like.) “It is unfair, the way people treat you. Wanting to gain something for themselves. But, in the end, this is what you were taught. All those wrong teachings are set in you like a natural instinct, telling you this is what you are meant to do, and failing to accomplish means you are a failure yourself. Unworthy. Of rewards and care, of simply being bred. It is difficult to fight against that instinct… I guess I can’t blame you for being angry.”

“You talking to a bird?

I almost make the hawk’s cage drop upon Sokka’s voice.

“Why is your family so hell-bent on provoking me a heart attack?” I say, accommodating the pole.

“I’m assuming that for ‘your family’ you mean ‘your sister’ and... I really don’t want to picture the ways she could provoke you a heart attack,” his face contorts.

I give him a flat look. “What do you want? I am busy.”

“Oh, sure, I didn’t mean to interrupt one of your multiple meetings for today, your Avatarness.” He steps inside the tent. “But, as much as I encourage the care towards animals, this one here could lead us to a very human, very murderous problem,” his thumb hooks in direction of the hawk.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you remember the South Pole? Zhao is crazy!” he stresses. “He made a ship break through solid ice just to follow you. You think having one less bird in his military aviary is going to stop him from hunting you down till here?

“What can I do about it?” I throw back at him. “We can’t go out of the village now. And we don’t even know where Zhao is.”

We don’t, but our feathery friend does.” He goes pet the hawk himself.

“What do you mean?”

“That shackle had Zhao’s name and his coordinates to identify the bird, right?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking… since he didn’t learn the lesson the first time… why don’t we teach it to him again?”

 

Sokka

Zuko is quick to react: “Are you crazy?”

“Yes.”

What does he want from me? Honesty is the best policy. After sarcasm. Basic communication skills.

“I meant that,” he maintains. “Didn’t you hear what the Council said earlier? We. Can’t. Leave! We can’t even put a foot outside the village’s limits! And we already have a target on our backs while inside here! You seriously want to make it worst?”

“I seriously want Zhao to never, ever, ever come near this village as long as my sister is here.”

Now he is not so fast to react. Yeah, surprise, I’m not the brother of the year, but I still care about Katara. Call the media!

No Fire Nation army will come close to her. I’ll fight them all singlehandedly, maybe literally with only one hand, maybe they’ll dismember me… but they won’t touch my sister. 

“Sokka, I want to protect Katara – and the rest of the village – too, but are you really talking about us going into the wolf’s mouth? Zhao is waiting to eat us alive!”

“He is waiting to eat you alive,” I simplify, “Not that I’m not worried. And I remember that you beat him and his entire float with your hands tied.”

That is your plan? Sending me to beat people up? I could do that if I just went alone!”

“First of all, I was thinking about naming myself your strategist,” I debate. “And second, would you be objecting so much to this if you did go alone?”

He opens his mouth as though he is going to tell me off, but no word comes out.

“That’s what I thought,” I say. “Listen, Zuko, I get that we don’t always… coincide on things… on most things, but… you’re not less stupid than me when it comes to protecting the people we care about.” My eyes go to the bind on his upper arm.

“So your plan is that we act stupid simultaneously and track down Zhao before he does the same to us–  me?”

“My plan is using someone who has a whole lot of knowledge in weapons and engineering – A.K.A. me – and someone who is good at fighting thugs – you – to take down those thugs before something horrible happens to the people that we don’t want to be involved,” I explain. “Besides… I am worried about you.”

Yeah, yeah, I said it. Call the media again.

“Huh,” Zuko mutters. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Whatever.”

Suddenly I pick up an engrossing interest in the top of the tent.

“Then… what do we do first?” Zuko asks.

“First, we can’t let anyone know, especially Katara and Aang.”

“Then you should discuss your super-secret rebel plans somewhere else,” Katara’s voice comes from the outside right before she pushes the entrance open, “This is just a tent.”

Seriously? She wants to hear about my super-secret rebel plans now? What happened to ‘Forget it, Sokka! Just go to sleep!’?

“We can explain,” Zuko excuses us.

“It’s okay,” Katara assures.

Is she… actually… smiling?

“You’re not angry?” Zuko says my thoughts aloud.

“I could be,” she admits, entering the tent with us, “but I don’t want Zhao to come near this village either, and I’m in for anything that keeps him the hell away. Besides, this is the nicest conversation you two have had since… forever!”

Zuko and I exchange a look. Thank Spirits we haven’t changed enough to not frown away right after.

“And I also happened to hear all the nice things my brother said about me,” Katara continues, gloating.

“Oh, sure, you pick up this time to listen to me. Where was all this attentiveness when I was telling you about my weapon designs?”

She gives me a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay,” I concede, moping.

 

Katara

I don’t know why I am so happy. Zuko and Sokka are still scowling at each other every other glance, they left me out of an important matter, they planned to face a Fire Nation commander alone, and yet… there is something different. Like something moved slowly enough for us to not realize, and now we are in a different place than what we were before.

Yes, that could be the reason why I’m smiling so much.

“Then what do we do first?” I wonder.

“Didn’t you hear the part where I said you were out of this?” Sokka responds.

“Didn’t you hear the part where I said I was in?”

“I thought you guys were in better terms just a second ago,” Zuko observes.

“We are siblings,” Sokka says as if it explained everything. “Worry about us the day we are not butting heads.”

“I have it in mind,” Zuko murmurs, “Katara, you didn’t see Aang outside?”

I shake my head.

“Good,” he declares. “The less he knows about this, the better.”

“The less I know about what?” Aang questions from the entrance of Zuko’s tent.

 

Zuko

“Since when is my tent an assembly center around here?” I demand.

“Since today, apparently,” Sokka points out. “We have some good memories in this tent. Like the time Zuko butchered his arm…” He sighs nostalgically. “Those were the days.”

What is it about Sokka that makes him a whole lot more tolerable when he is only performing as a strategist?

“Aang, how much did you hear in our conversation?” I ask him.

“Not much,” he answers. Until Momo comes out of his shirt, “But Momo said he heard something about a rebel plan?”

“He said?” Sokka repeats like when we were at the labyrinth. 

“Aang, you can’t tell anyone about that,” I tell him, tensely, “In fact, you can’t even talk to us about that. You have enough trouble with the Council already. Who knows what they will do if they find out you knew about this.”

“Is it true then?” he inquires. “You guys are going to get that Zhao?”

“Don’t say it so loud,” I hiss, pulling him inside and making sure there is no one else outside. “The meeting from today was a warning. If they know you have been getting closer to us and that you know about our plans, they will kick you out of the monastery.”

Aang shrugs. “They don’t have to know.”

My eyes widen at him.

“I don’t want anyone to destroy the village like they did to yours,” he glances at Katara and Sokka, “I know I shouldn’t be this much attached to this place… but I am, this is my home. Besides, Pasang said it: we are loyal to each other.”

He smiles, and it is happy and sad in equal parts, but also resolute. Dreamy, giving away how much he wants to save the place and people he loves. People that won’t be merciful if they knew what he is intending to do. Aang is always like that, so confident in who he is, believing his feelings alone justify everything and therefore can endure anything, but…

“But you love the monastery.”

There’s something broken behind his determined smile. “I’ll regret it later.”

A protective pulse beats at my wrist. I won’t let anything happen to you.

He, Sokka, Katara, and I – (and Momo) – look at each other.

“That settled,” Sokka cracks his knuckles. “Let’s get to work.”

Notes:

[1] Bolases: Most commonly called “Bolas”, is a type of throwing weapon made of weights on the ends of intersected threads. They are hunting tools used by Inuit groups.

Chapter 24: Chapter 二十三: Ruined cage

Notes:

Hey, everyone!! I've been seeing all your comments and I know there has been some concern about whether I will abandon this story at some point. I won't, I wanted to clarify that. It's a personal thing of mine to keep working and insisting on something until it is done, and the plan that I have for this series really excites me and I want to finish it, it's just that... sometimes I do feel like people are not really engaging or interested in it, and I get discouraged. It's nobody's fault, okay? And it certainly isn't going to make me stop writing.

Chapter Text

Zuko

“Sokka,” Katara says, “I’m sure you know what you’re doing, but why are we planning a rebel attack in the bison stables where everyone can hear us?”

“They sure will if you are so loud about it,” her brother deadpans without taking his eyes away from the map. (The one we found back at that pier near the South Pole.)

(How much time has passed since then?...)

“And for this plan to work we need coordination.” Sokka’s voice snaps me awake from my contemplative blues. “And this is the only place where we can discuss our plans together with Appa, Druk, and Hawky.”

“Hawky?”

“That’s how I wanted to name the hawk. Hawky! Get it?”

Aang perks up, “I like it!”

Katara and I don’t.

“We are not naming the hawk ‘Hawky’,” I state, making my best impersonation of Sokka’s annoying voice when I repeat the name.

“Fine. How do you want to call him?”

Just then, Nameless Hawk comes closer to me. He still has some trouble standing on his feet for the disproportion on his leg so, for the most part, he only bounces and planes over the ground where we are sitting, kicking and throwing snow with his claws.

“Scratch,” I pat him on his head. “Because he is always scratching.”

“How original,” Sokka drones.

(Like he can talk after wanting to name a hawk ‘Hawky’.) Aang and Katara scowl at him.

“I chose Druk’s name because it is the sound he makes when he bites.” For backing up and emphasizing my point, Druk does exactly that and his jaws close with a funny, clicking, but grave sound that in fact sounds like druk.

He and Appa lay around us, forming a circled barrier as a cover.

“Besides, the hawk likes it,” I assert, “Right, Scratch?”

‘Scratch’ actually shakes his head. (Ungrateful piece of turkey.)

Sokka’s so-called triumphant smirk is infuriating. “You like Hawky better,” he leans in for petting the hawk himself, “Right, Hawky?”

‘Hawky’ does nothing and lets Sokka caress him. I grab him restraining his wings, and pull him closer to me. “Don’t touch him. He is mine.”

“I didn’t know you were so responsible with pets, Zuko,” Aang comments.

“He is not a pet! He is a trained tracker!”

“Found the two of them having a heart-to-heart earlier,” Sokka recalls. “It was adorable.”

“It wasn’t like that!”

Despite my clear slightly raised tone, Hawky squirms closer to me while I hold him against my chest.

“Hey, look! He likes you!” Katara observes, excitedly.

“Only because I took the shackle off from him.”

“But isn’t that how it works?” she insists. “You do something nice for someone and they are nice to you in return?”

Why does it sound like she is talking from experience?

Now that I think about it, how many nice things Katara has done for me? Ever since we met and I still acted like a Fire Nation minion… I mean, was a Fire Nation minion… I mean–

Ugh! Even now, everything is so confusing! I have been running away without knowing to where… I keep seeing things and hearing voices that aren’t my own, and they scare and anger me in equal parts; I want to escape from them… and I become more lost in the process.

That is why I focus on Katara’s face, because she is someone I know; because when I look at her, I have somebody towards whom I can go. Somebody that walks next to me.

Until Sokka interrupts, of course: “So… sorry to break your staring contest, but we have some things to talk about here. See, Hawky can’t point us where he came from using the map. That’s good, it means Zhao isn’t close to these mountains. We could keep him there if only we left him without a means of transportation again.”

“You want us to throw him into the ocean again?” Katara reminisces.

“You guys threw someone into the ocean?” Aang questions. (It sounds like a really long gasp due to incredulity.)

“It’s a long story, Aang. You had to be there,” Sokka says, “Anyway. Yes, the greatest goal we can accomplish is to make his boat stop floating. I’m thinking about a classic ‘getting in’. Sabotage the ship from the inside. Coming back, getting some sleep without sideburns coming for us in our nightmares… Easy peasy!”

“Can we sabotage a military ship by ourselves?” Katara wonders.

“It’s the power of engineering, baby sister,” her brother remarks. “Everything has a weak spot; if you hit it, the whole thing will crumble down.”

“I’m a little concerned about how you know that, Sokka,” she notes.

“But how are we gonna get inside?” Aang inquires.

Sokka doesn’t miss the chance to gloat. “Sneak attack, Aang, but don’t worry, I’m excellent at those.”

That is when I step in: “Not all of us can participate in a sneak attack.”

“Why not?”

“Impracticability,” I say with the obviousness it entails. “I don't think it is a secret that you are not exactly silent, Sokka; and Aang has his troubles for staying still.”

I take a glance at Aang. His legs look as though they were shaking, yet not from coldness but from the anxiety of being forced to remain in an inactive posture; his hand clutches and releases small fistfuls of snow.

“Yeah, Zuko is right about that,” he agrees.

“That only leaves…” Sokka’s eyes slice through me in their way to: “Katara.”

Her face is calm, not really indifferent or impassive, it is… accepting. She looks at me, looking for confirmation.

“Katara and I will be able to get in and out of Zhao’s ship without being noticed,” I tell Sokka. “She can do it, I trust her.”

Sokka continues staring at Katara. Maybe trying to decipher why is it that I trust her so much for this considering his poor opinion of girls in general? But even with that, I seriously ask myself what is going through his mind now. Whatever he may think about girls, I wonder how would I react if I was in his place, and someone tried to take my sister straight into the enemy’s territory. At a moment when we lack support and resources.

Would I go berserk on whoever suggested that idea? Would I trust her to defend herself?

How would I love a sister?

Would I be a better than I was for my younger brother?

“Okay,” Sokka ends up agreeing, “You two are our aces. The session is over, Team Avatar rests.”

“What is it with you and stupid names today?” I ask.

“Hey, if we are gonna be rebels, we are gonna do it with style. And remember we are meeting at the stables’ entrance at midnight.”

Our circle dissolves gradually. Druk continues serving as a cover when Aang takes Appa away in the opposite direction, (it’s better if we return to our tents one by one to not attract questions about what were the four of us doing hidden between a dragon and a flying bison).

We wait a moment after Aang leaves (and he does so whistling, for extra credibility), and Sokka goes next. (Today is the stupid names and whistling day, apparently.)

“Katara, can you go meet me at my tent after this?” I ask her. “I think we will need camouflage clothes for this plan, and I think I have something that might work for that.”

“Sure,” she agrees in a beat, “I’ll see you there.”

She stands up and leaves.

 

***

 

Katara waited for me outside of my tent, “Hey.”

“Hey,” I say.

Hawky squawks as a greeting, too. (I am wearing a leather gauntlet for him to grab onto my arm.)

“You know, the name Hawky doesn’t sound so bad after a while,” she assures, tickling Hawky’s feathers. Her eyes go to me, “You said you had something to help us camouflage tonight?”

“Yes.”

I pull the opening of the tent for all of us to get inside, and I return Hawky to his cage for him to finish the food he left this morning. Katara passes her gaze all over the inside of my tent once more.

“You have unpacked some more,” she notices.

“Yes… I… I had time to empty my bags and…”

She takes interest in a couple of wooden masks on the shelves and picks one up. “What is this?”

“They are theatrical masks for the play Love Amongst the Dragons,” I explain, coming closer to her and eyeing the blue mask as well. It is designed as the face of a dragon-like demon. “I used to like it a lot when I was little.”

“I had no idea you were a theatre kid, Zuko.”

I shrug. And smile.

“You could use this for hiding yourself tonight,” Katara advises.

“I don’t like the idea of hiding myself.”

“It’ll be only for tonight. Practicability, remember?”

I do remember, I just don’t like feeling that this is only a cruel reference to me running away from my identity and ultimately losing it.

The mask feels weighty on my hands when I take it from Katara’s. If I was crazy, I would say its frown deepens while looking into my eyes. (Maybe it does. Maybe I am crazy.) I put back the mask on its shelf.

“Give a second to find the clothes I told you about.”

“You sure they will make it for a good disguise?” she wonders when I go through my bags.

“Yes, they are black, for mixing with the night. Black is a very common color in the Fire Nation.”

Katara hums appreciatively.

“You don't think it is gloomy?” I wonder, pulling out the robes and handing them to her.

 “No.” She takes and unravels them, measuring them with her eyes. For what it looks like, they won’t fit her. Too big. “Black reminds me of the night. You have some scissors around here?”

I give her a knife instead. She uses it for cutting great pieces of the fabric, making reductions that will make for a smaller outfit with smaller folds.

She sits down for doing it; I sit next to her.

“You like nighttime?” I ask, staring at her while she works, hearing the blade of the knife trespassing cloth.

“Yeah, a lot.”

So she likes nighttime…

I… I could give her a night-themed gift one day… If a special occasion ever came around. Which reminds me, I haven't asked when her birthday is.

“So…” I stretch the word. “When is your birthday again?”

It is a blur the speed at which she drops the knife and her head turns my way. (It is because I never asked her about her birthday until now, right?)

At first, her expression is one of puzzlement and amusement, and her mouth opens as if she was going to say something, but it closes again slowly while her expression also eases.

“It's in Spring,” she ultimately answers, “I still have to wait some months. When is your birthday?”

“In Fall.”

“Oh, no! I missed it!” Her eyes grow once she realizes… our circumstances. “I mean, like… like… I didn't mean it in a 'I missed it a hundred years ago' way, I…”

“Don't worry.”

“I meant I'd have liked to celebrate it with you,” she completes. “This year we'll throw you a big party!”

‘We’ll throw you a big party.’

We.

Katara, Aang, Sokka, maybe Gyatso; I keep forgetting how weird it is to have so many people around me. And it is that proximity what is putting them in danger.

Zhao wouldn’t have found the Southern Air Village if I wasn’t here, Katara wouldn’t be planning on sneaking on a Fire Nation military ship if it wasn’t because I suggested it. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t because of me. If I wasn’t here, if I was self-sufficient enough, if I was better.

Better.

If I was.

I should be.

My head spins and throbs with the thoughts accumulating themselves in avalanche. They are still here, the voices. His voice. The flashbacks to the Agni Kai, the smell of burnt raw flesh.

“Hey, you okay?” Katara’s hand settles on my arm softly.

“Yeah… Sorry… I just… um…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she reassures me.

“I…” my voice sounds hoarse, as though I had been screaming, “I do am sorry, I am still… going through certain things… and…”

“Hey,” she repeats for calling my attention, “It’ll be alright, okay?”

“How are you always so convinced things will turn out alright at the end?”

“It’s called hope.”

“Isn’t that for when the bad things happen and you wait for good ones to come?”

“Yes,” she admits, “but if you don’t wish for the good things, you’ll never be able to escape the bad ones.”

My answer is stunned, meditative silence.

Katara’s hand remains on my forearm; her hand is small and shapely, like the one of a porcelain doll.

“I can leave if you want to be alone for a while.”

“No, stay,” I insist. “I… I will help you to keep cutting the fabric.”

 

***

 

Katara

Zuko made good on his promise of helping me cut the fabric; I took the pieces and straps to my tent and sewed them together making a manifold cape-like tunic. The upper part cascades from my shoulders down to my elbows, the secondary layer coils all of my arms till past my wrists, and fits around my waist in a form that makes it look like the robe is longer for reaching a bit below my knees. No one would spot Water Tribe clothes beneath it.

I am about to enter a Fire Nation ship as a Water Tribe spy… Or whatever charge takes care of entering, blowing things up, and getting out. (I should ask Sokka about that.)

I don’t know how I’m feeling about all of it, it’s a thrill… and also a weight. Like my necklace’s pendant on my palm. It’s an awareness that the War is here, right over me. Back at home, it was away, but we knew it was coming for us, devouring the world piece by piece on its path. Yet now that I am at the center of it, I can testify it wasn’t the War the one that reached me; I decided to step forward.  

Yeah, it is definitely a thrill…

I go to meet the boys outside.

Tonight is a full moon night; perhaps that’s not very helpful for a spy mission, but it makes me feel safer. More confident. The moonlight colors the night in silver, it makes me feel that I am also part of it once I step outside, made of precious metal. Glowing, but unbreakable.

Sokka greets me at the stables. Kinda. “C’mon, Katara, the fastest we leave, the less chances there are we’re caught.”

Good evening to you, too.

Zuko it’s a bit more communicative. Which is… weird, right?

“I followed your advice and took the masks you picked up this morning,” he tells me, passing me one of them. (It’s the white one, the features of the face are the ones of a human woman, but it has red streaks and spirals outlining them.)

“It is inspired in a water spirit,” Zuko explains. A little unprompted and awkwardly, like he thinks he must have a reason why he chose this specific mask for me. “A Spirit that guards a famous river in the Fire Nation, I thought you would like it…”

“Zuko, it’s okay. This one is perfect. It’s pretty.”

He doesn’t relax much, I think he is on the verge of shaking… but he stops rambling.  

I’d be lying if I said all the effort he puts into these little things and talks isn’t oddly nice. He is always thinking too much about everything, but because he worries for other people. He is that kind of person.

“You did a great job with the robe,” he says.

“Thanks,” my arm goes to rub the sleeve-envelope covering my arm.

“You changed your hairstyle, too.”

My fingers then comb my ponytail over my shoulder. The corner of my mouth pinches my cheek in a smile. “Thanks again.”

“Guys. Mission. Now,” Sokka calls us out.

Zuko and I decide to ride on Druk while Aang and Sokka fly on Appa.

“Oh, right, I almost forgot.” Sokka takes something out of the bag he packed. “Zuko, I made a new gauntlet for you to carry Hawky. If it can be called gauntlet at all. It doesn’t cover your hand so it won’t interfere with your bending, but it’ll cover enough of your forearm for Hawky to stand there without clawing you.”

The not-gauntlet is indeed a big patch of dark brown leather attached to a set of three belts. Zuko takes it and fits it around his left forearm.

“Hawky!” Zuko calls, and Hawky soars down smoothly until his feet touch the leather and his claws cling to it. “It is good. Thanks, Sokka.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Zuko is quick to brush it off.

I cover the amused smile on my face with my hands. 

It looks like Momo wants to join the fun, too.

“Sorry, Momo,” Aang apologizes, taking him off from his head when he lands on top of it. “You have to stay here and cover for us.”

“I dunno how a lemur is gonna do that,” Sokka butts in, “but you do you, I guess.”

“Momo, will distract anyone that comes check us,” Aang indicates, and signals Momo to leave to take up his guard.

“Fine. Now the mission.”

We hop on to our respective rides, Zuko pulls out the shackle that had Zhao’s info and shows it to Hawky. “Hawky, takes us here.”

Hawky takes off and flies away with a high-pitched cry.

 

***

 

I’m not sure how much time we’ve been flying. I wouldn’t say they have been hours, (the night doesn’t look that much different), but the anticipation and restlessness is making me feel like we’ve been out for days and this one is a different night than the one when we left.

Hawky is ahead of us, guiding us. The wind hits against my face, chilling my cheeks.

“Katara, are you nervous?” Zuko asks me from over his shoulder while I hold on to his waist atop of Druk’s back.

“No,” I say, “why do you ask?”

“You have been squeezing me too hard for a while now.”

“Oh!… Sorry, I didn’t realize it. I got… caught up with my thoughts.”

He doesn’t really answer to that, but his silence is companionable and inviting. He glances to me over his shoulder.

“It’s very dangerous. What we are about to do,” I go on. “I am not nervous, but we are going to…”

The end of my sentence, (whatever right words there were to describe it), dies away.

“Confront the Fire Nation?” Zuko finishes for me.

I remain quiet for a few more breaths, (and a few flaps of Druk’s wings). My arms grip Zuko’s core a bit tighter. “Yes. That.”

Zuko is quiet, too.

“I know…” he trails off “… This probably isn’t very reassuring, but… I won’t let anything happen to you, and… if something does happen… if you feel bad… I will be there. Just… um… saying.”

My arms tighten around him once more. “Thanks, Zuko. And thanks for… the vow of trust for me to be in this mission.”

“No need to thank me.”

But thanks anyway, I want to say.

We don’t arrive at Zhao’s pier until a while later. I can’t say for sure without a compass… but I think we are farther into the south; this is the same direction we came from to get to the mountains.

Druk and Appa land in an isolated terrain at the shore, not in the dock, only close enough to get a clear view of the boats parked. More importantly, we can see if anyone walks by.

Hawky circles a significantly larger ship. It looks very different from the other ones parked aside from its size; the façade is flashier. Call me crazy, but it looks like it was designed to be intentionally presumptuous.

“That one is Zhao’s,” Zuko says.

His voice sounds… plain. But like he was crushing it himself to keep the emotion from coming out.

He calls Hawky back to our spot, and Sokka makes us repass the plan: “Remember, it’s just getting in, and getting out. You don’t have to go overboard with it, this isn’t a game of payback. Find the machinery room, cut off the mechanism’s calipers as quietly as you can, and get out of there like the devil was chasing you out.”

Zuko and I nod.

“Hawky,” Zuko says, “you, Druk, and Appa hide into the trees. If someone sees any of you, it would give our location away and Zhao would discover which one of his hawks found us.”

He puts Hawky on top of Druk’s head, since Druk’s skin is only hard squamae, he doesn’t mind Hawky’s claws, so he lowers his head to make it easier for Zuko.

“Take care of Hawky, you hear that, Druk?” Zuko says, patting the two of them, “He is our responsibility now.”

“And since we are talking about ‘taking care’ now…” Sokka butts in again. “You take care of my sister, would you, Zuko? She is my (and now your) responsibility.”

My brother’s stare is intent, his eyes made of jagged, shattered ice. For once, all his face is completely serious and unreadable, so unusual for his slaptastic self. And as much as I appreciate the feeling behind it all…

“Thanks, but I can take care of me,” I say. “I am the one responsible for myself.”

 

***

 

Zuko and I run through the shore covered by the trees and buildings. When we get to the docks, we circle each one of the boats using the shadows for further hiding – (we have to move very close to the edge, so close that either of us could fall with a false step) – until we get to Zhao’s.

“We have to go up,” Zuko indicates, looking to the upper border on the deck.

“Can you take us with your firebending?”

“Not that high.”

“What about your stunts?”

“I think I could, but I don’t have anything to gain impulse.”

I look down at the water from the edge of the pier.

Then I put my hand forward and imagine myself physically yanking the waves upwards, feeling them in a tangible yet still fluent state in which I could reach, hold them, extend them, and throw them up. I picture that solidness while envisioning the water’s particles, I see them changing to form the consistency I want… And I throw my arm up, making them follow. I freeze them glued to the outside of the ship before they can fall back into the ocean.

“Okay,” I pant, (the mental effort I need to do these things takes too much energy), “Now we have a ramp. That’s something.”

It gets to only a little above the pier’s stage… but it is something!

“Are you okay?” Zuko wonders from behind my back.

“Yeah.” My breath keeps coming out heavy and dry. It feels hot when it bounces against my mask. “Fine.”

“Um… It is… a very good ramp. Thanks. Should… Should I carry you for getting us up? Like the other time.”

“I think that’s the only way to go.”

“Weren’t you afraid of it?” Zuko asks, already putting his hands on my back.

“I trust you,” I say once he lifts me.

He makes us run over the ramp and once he gets to the end of it, he jumps to the immense chain-links keeping the ship from floating aimlessly. The wind hits and brushes my face much strongly and fast than when we were flying, I get the feeling my cheeks are going to freeze off in every other blink.

This isn’t flying, it is much wilder and reckless, but my fear is leveled because I meant what I said. I trust Zuko. 

It surprises me how stealthy he is when he steps on the deck. 

“This way,” Zuko points right after he sets me down.   

We approach one of the entrances to the inner quarters, Zuko uses a fire dagger to slash the bolt and open the door without making any noise. He makes it look like it had was never opened once we get inside.

“Don’t you think there are too many decorations for a military ship?”

“This was designed for the royal family’s use,” Zuko says, “You can tell for the overuse of gold.”

Oh.” I half-cover my mouth, side-eyeing Zuko. “But then why is Zhao the one in charge of it?”

“For all that we know, he is under the direct orders of the Fire Nation royal family.”

I stay quiet for a while. “So we are in trouble.”

Zuko doesn’t hesitate. (Or sugarcoats it.) “Yes. Come on, we have to get out of here fast.”

He drags me by my hand down the corridor.

“Someone is coming,” he warns, already opening one of the cabins. We hide behind the door, attentive to the heavy, metallic footsteps and gruff voices and laughs at the other side. The soldiers are complaining and joking about the ‘so-called’ mission to capture the Avatar.

They sound skeptical. At best. I would like to laugh at how much respect Zhao is capable of inspiring in his men.

The soldiers leave and Zuko and I get out in our search for the machinery room. We have to go down rows of stairs to the deepest parts of the ship, avoiding more soldiers in our way. It’s dark in here, the only illumination are a few faint red lamps that look more like emergency alerts.

The apprehension the thought awakens tightens my stomach. What if that is a sign?

These corridors are also lonely and narrow. They remind me of a giant rattrap.

“Someone is coming again,” Zuko says, and pushes us to enter yet another room.

“Whoa,” I exclaim. Involuntarily. It’s just that…

… this room…

… it has so much royal family paraphernalia. There are portraits of the many generations of Fire Lords in the walls, arranged in line. The last one is… “Zuko, look.”

He follows my eyes to the picture in the middle of the rather big room – too big even for a sleeping compartment – the portrait is the last one, so it is the one of the current Fire Lord. We come closer to it and take off our masks to read the inscription:

おざい

Ozai.

Fire Lord Ozai.

That should be enough for getting to know our enemy, but…

His face…

It is Zuko’s.

It is the same face as Zuko’s: every line, every feature, with the same skin and same eyes. (Save for the scar, that’s the only thing differencing them.) 

Zuko’s hand flies to the right side of his face – the unscarred one – I can see it has the same outline as the one of the Fire Lord’s profile. I can see the Fire Lord in him.

An awful, uncontrollable feeling of rejection, a lack of air as if I was choking, crushes my core at the sight of Zuko. I… I can see all those years of suffering and destruction just by looking at his face. I can see the War, the fire, the injustice behind it all.

Without knowing how, my feet step away. This feeling… I can’t bear it, I can’t be near Zuko. 

His hand is still studying his own face, covering the right side as if he was trying to erase it. Even his other hand comes to his left profile, because if it wasn’t for his scar… he would be exactly like the Fire Lord Ozai.

I think I am getting sick.

There are steps outside the door, approaching it.

“Oh, no!”

“We have to run!” Zuko clasps my hand, and I think it is then when he realizes there is nowhere to run. The door is being opened, its squeak deafens us.

The strange light makes it look like there are cage bars reflecting in his eyes. Maybe that is at what he stares in mine, too. 

We are trapped. This was a rattrap.

“Well, well. What a pleasant surprise to have visitors tonight.”

Chapter 25: Chapter 二十四: Place for no hero

Chapter Text

Zuko

‘… this new world that you created.’

I remember that thought. I told myself it wasn’t true.

Perhaps somehow, deep inside me, or somewhere I could pretend to not see it, I knew it was a lie; and that the face of all the destruction the world had become was my own.

My fingers cover the right side of my face, I imagine how it would be if I could completely wipe it away, but… if I did… only my left profile would remain. My scar, the mark of my banishment, the mark of my father would remain. I am trapped inside myself, I always have been. I try to fight so many people that want to take control over me… but my voice is lost in shadows.

Someone is coming outside.

Katara gasps. “Oh, no!”

“We have to run!” I take her hand tightly.

Looking into her eyes, the fear she is holding is clear. She is afraid of whatever is about to happen and… of me.

I am the face she hates so much.

Forgive me…

“Well, well. What a pleasant surprise to have visitors tonight.”

Zhao comes inside the room followed by a mob of his men; they surround Katara and me across the walls, ready in firebending positions while he stays in the center feigning authority. (Like the smug asshole that he is.) Two other men are with him, standing at his sides: an old, chubby man and another one much younger, not overly older than me. There is something about the way they look, they remind me of…

“Glad to see you again, Prince Zuko,” Zhao interrupts my thoughts.

I don’t answer him, I don’t even want to look at him.

His eyes slide in Katara’s direction. “I see you brought your Water Tribe friend tonight.”

Katara gives my hand a hard squeeze but looks him straight in the eye. Fearless.

Brave, reckless girl. The memory absorbs me.

Remembering what happened at the South Pole makes my pulse painful due to cold rage. Anger that feels itself powerless yet demands retribution.

Pulling Katara closer to me, I stand in front of her; the soldiers don’t react to the movement. She grabs a fistful of my sleeve, gripping it so strongly the fabric stretches from my shoulder and rasps my skin.

“Don’t look at her,” I say, my voice raspy as well. Like the one of a dead man returning to haunt his murderer. “You have no right.”

“Oh, and I am supposed to be scared of you now?”

“I don’t remember things ending very well last time you weren’t scared of me.”

Silence booms in the cabin. And for a prolonged time, during which Zhao glares at me with his eyes turned into dark, cutting slits. Combined with his awfully bad shaving skills, it makes him look more animalistic than before.

I don’t have to support savages like you…

“Enough,” the younger man at his side commands, physically cutting Zhao’s way with his arm and stepping ahead. “Apprehend them.”

The soldiers react–

No,” Zhao roars curtly, gesturing to the soldiers and the other guy, and giving one step forwarder than him. “The interrogation is not over yet.”

Katara and I exchange a look.

“Is this an interrogation?” I ask without much inflection.

“I think you are aware there are a lot of questions surrounding you, Prince Avatar,” Zhao throws back with a wolfish smile. “Like: how is it that you are still alive after a century of absence? Especially considering certain wounds you have suffered so far.” His eyes go to the bandages on my hands. “I wasn’t the only one who endured damage during our last face-off.”

His sole gaze feels infective; I pull the border of my sleeves downer, hiding my binds.

“They are healing. Can’t say the same about your ship. Or your ego.”

The chubby, old man chuckles. “Oh, he got you there, Zhao.”

Katara and I exchange another look.

Zhao’s face reddens with fury. His eyes get a terrifying feverish glint, as if he was truly sick and hallucinating blood, but he returns to his wolfish – hungry – expression too quickly for my taste; his teeth are also too sharp, they indeed look like animal fangs.

“Oh, my, but where are my manners?” his voice turns deceitfully cheery. “I almost forgot to introduce you. Prince Zuko, these are your descendants, members of the royal family. General Iroh,” he gestures to the old man on his right, “He is the former Crown Prince, the older brother of the Fire Lord. And this is his son, Colonel Lu Ten,” he points to the younger guy on his left.

My stomach sinks.

“When we first met, I recognized you for your resemblance to the royal family,” Zhao explains. His head gives a small nod towards the painting of Fire Lord Ozai behind my back, “You must have noticed to who in specific by now.”

Yeah, and now I remember why I hate Zhao so much.

A strengthening rage builds inside me, feeding my desperation to escape my own self, to escape this moment and this ship. I just need… I need a course of action, something to do, an answer that will lead me to a place where I won’t feel this way. I need to not feel this way, I need to feel something else than being some kind of broken piece with cutting edges.

My legs move, my body vibrates with tension that I could take out charging against Zhao…

But a pair of arms hug me around my core and restrain me. Katara.

“Zuko, calm down,” she presses, talking close to my ear, avoiding the soldiers from hearing us. “He is trying to get a rise out of you.”

“Yeah, and it is working,” I whisper through clenched teeth.

She repeats my name, warning and pleading (more the former than the latter, though): “Zuko.”

“Now, that is enough,” the other man – Lu Ten – says, “Apprehend them now!”

“No, wait!” There isn’t much space for me to take Katara away from Zhao and the soldiers… but I still try to push her backer. “Listen, your problem is with me. I am the Avatar. I already surrendered once, I will do so again if you let her go. I will do whatever you want. Just let her go.”

Katara tries to stop me: “Zuko, no!

“You think I haven’t noticed she is a waterbender?” Zhao questions. “A southern waterbender, after all waterbenders from the South Pole were supposedly captured and locked down?”

Katara inhales sharply and audibly, her nails dig into my shoulders.

“You did what?” I screech, my teeth crashing almost painfully with the snap of my jaw.

“Don’t give me that much credit for that task, it was done years before I joined the army. Maybe General Iroh can provide some more inside information…”

We all turn in direction of the elderly man.

(I get what Zhao is doing; he wants to break my spirits by reminding me it was my own blood the one that caused all of this.) (Maybe he should know by now that you can’t break something if it is already broken.) 

General Iroh’s own eyes darken once he meets Zhao’s, but it is so momentary that it could be a trick of the shadows and the light. “The raids to the Southern Water Tribe didn’t form part of my military caree.”

“But you did raid them?” I insist. “As in, the Fire Army? The Fire Nation?”

When he looks at me, there is some raw emotion coming from his eyes that makes them gleam. It could be sadness or regret. Or it could be another trick from the light.

Zhao goes on with his awful speech: “Sometimes, progress requires stepping over certain people.”

Katara takes another strong breath, her fingernails continue to claw my shoulders; despite it, her hands are shaking with pressure and wrath. I put my own hand above hers, clasping hers, and digging her nails deeper into my skin if that is what she needs to do.

“Katara, listen to me,” I whisper to her, pressing my mouth against our hands on my shoulder to quieten my voice, “I am going to try something, but you have to do as I say, okay? Just do it.”

Her nod is quiet, rigid, and nearly imperceptible.

“Apprehend them!”

I let go of her. “Duck!”

She does and I cast a flame that expands itself from the center of the room, hitting the walls and nearly everybody else’s heads.

“Now run!

She does as well. Zhao, Lu Ten, and Iroh were the only ones blocking the door and they are too disoriented for the sparks and the heat to stop her. Katara escapes.

Don’t try to save me, don’t look back! Just run!

 

Katara

I can’t leave Zuko behind, but I also can’t fight any of those soldiers! I don’t have the ability to fight a single one of them. If I had stayed, I would only be a burden instead of a help for Zuko.

Anger and helplessness make me feel nauseous, like I need to be saved when I don’t! I. Want. To. Fight!

The means for it don’t even matter anymore; if I have to stab Zhao with the first piece of shattered glass that I find, then I will! Because I need to do something to prove my Tribe’s strength, I need to do something in their name, in all of their names. The ones that are still alive and the ones that Zhao took away from us, I don’t care if he says he didn’t! I need to stand for my tribespeople that are gone and protect the ones that are still here, because that is what I do!

Still, I am running because this time… I can’t do anything.

 

Zuko

Needless to say, the soldiers rush towards me in a horde. I push them off and then it is only a mess of fists and grunts.

My attacks aim for all the unclear blurs that catch my eye, everything is so fleet and faint I am afraid I might be imagining some of them; however, I don’t stop to think it much and keep shoving and hitting the men. For what I can hear, Zhao and Lu Ten are at a competition to see who can yell more orders and how much louder. Their shouts are the only thing clear above blows swinging, bones breaking, and my knuckles smashing human flesh. 

It is… difficult to skip all of the attacks directed at me in such a diminutive space. (To say the least.)

Guess I have no other option…

Throwing some other guy to hit the wall, I pull out a fire dagger and point it to Zhao’s neck.

“Tell them to back off,” I order him, feeling the rest of his men staring and standing behind my back.

The fire is too close to his throat, if he did so much as talking, or nodding, or just swallowing, he would burn. (I think it is then when he realizes he should be listening to me.)

His hand gestures towards the soldiers and they move back. I catch Lu Ten casting a flame of his own, he and Iroh are watching me and Zhao with astonished eyes.

I press my fire dagger harder against Zhao’s neck, (it isn’t enough to burn him, but one false step from his part, and…)

“Don’t try anything,” I tell Lu Ten, although my eyes remain on Zhao.

Lu Ten drops his fire.

“You have a lot of confidence today, Prince Zuko,” Zhao says.

I don’t have confidence, I have anger. Big fucking difference. “Don’t know if you realize it, but I have the upper hand now.”

“Do you?”

He smirks like the cartoonish-y villain that he is, and I am the one that realizes he has something else in his arsenal. Steps resound in the metallic stairs, and another guard enters the room holding a knife to Katara’s neck.

My eyes narrow, the sight of Zhao just became physically sickening and painful. “Paraphrasing a friend of mine,” I say to him, “You actual sonofabitch.”

“What am improper language for everyone’s golden prince,” he mocks. “Put your dagger down.”

I look over to Katara and that other guard. He is holding her head in a way that her throat is on full display and she can look at nothing but the ceiling – in a way that she can’t look at me.

“First, tell him to take his knife down,” I demand.

“Haven’t you noticed you’re no longer the one with the upper hand?”

“If you hurt her, then your warranty is over,” I remind him, musing, “And you give me no reasons to not hurt you.”

Another wave of deafening silence fills the room. For once, Zhao is looking at me completely inexpressive and lacking of obvious hatred, yet his eyes are darker than I have ever seen them until now. (If he didn’t hate me before, this is the moment when he really fucking does.)

“Let’s make a deal, I know you won’t back down from it,” Zhao smirks yet again, (because he knows that is true), “He puts his knife down first, then you put your dagger down. Simple like that.”

“And then you chain us up,” I finalize for him.

“It’s take it or leave it. I trust the value of my warranty.”

Katara speaks: “Zuko, don’t do it.”

The knife’s blade is too close to her skin. Just like with Zhao and my dagger, only her breathing is enough for a scratch to appear on her flesh… and it is growing bigger and deeper.

“Drop the knife first,” I say, ceding.

Zhao gestures again and the man puts the knife down, letting go of Katara’s head as well.

Her eyes are wide when she meets mine. Not fearful, nor sad, only wide and serious. Their color is like the one of a calm ocean on a stormy night.

I put my fire dagger out.

The soldiers jump and push me to the floor, the man that was holding Katara captive does the same with her. She and I only stare at each other throughout the ambush. Forgive me…

  

Katara

Is this what Zuko had to go through when Zhao first captured him? The cuffs with shackles that if I didn’t know better would say they weigh a literal ton, and being physically dragged across the hallways of a cheap ship?

Zhao’s guards make us slide over the floor, and all my tries to get free only make the cuffs bruise my wrists awfully. They throw Zuko and me into a cell, so strongly that my shoulder hits against the wall.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asks me, coming to check on me. His eyes are sharp with concern.

“Yes, I’m fine. How about you?”

“Fine,” he is panting. I am, too. “They didn’t do anything to you, did they?”

“No, no. I’m okay.”

The blood is still dripping from the cut on my neck, but I’m okay.

“I hate to break your emotive reunion, kids,” that Lu Ten colonel enters the cell, “But I still have some questions to ask you.”

Lu Ten, a member of the Fire Nation royal family according to what Zhao told us… and Zuko’s descendant.

I wonder how exactly are they related, they don’t look all that much alike save for the squared, defined features and dark hair. Lu Ten also doesn’t have his head shaved, which makes the contrast between the two of them more notorious and somewhat bizarre.

Fire Lord Ozai doesn’t have his head shaved either. He has veeeeeeeeeeery long, very dark hair.

Maybe that is how Zuko will look like once his hair grows out…

And it is terrifying.

“Like what?” he deadpans in Lu Ten’s direction.

“How did you find this ship?”

“Does it matter? We are already here. Wasn’t that what your precious royal family wanted?”

Lu Ten narrows his eyes at him, but then he averts Zuko’s.

Zuko notices that last part as well: “Wait… The rest of the royal family doesn’t know about this? As in, the Fire Lord himself didn’t order Zhao to track us down? This ship was made for the Fire Lord’s exclusive use.”

“It was made for the War’s exclusive use,” Lu Ten throws back.

Zuko only stares at him. “Oh, now I get it. You and Zhao want to be war heroes, right? So you are keeping the capture of the Avatar a secret to be the only ones to take credit.”

Lu Ten doesn’t answer.

“I don’t know if you have noticed, but Zhao isn’t the sharing-type,” Zuko warns him. “What makes you think he will willingly share the glory with you?”

Right then, the door opens once more, and Zhao himself stands at the frame roughly throwing in two other prisoners. Aang and Sokka fall to the ground and roll towards us.

“’Sup?” my brother says once they stop in front of Zuko and me.

He has a cut on his forehead…

You. Are. A– ” I launch myself to claw Zhao’s eyes out!

Or strangle him with the chains of my cuffs!

I don’t care which one, I don’t care what I have to do as long as I inflict the pain this war has caused me! Me, my family, everyone! I want him to know that pain, I want him to beg for forgiveness, I want someone – anyone – to feel this hurt!

Zuko is the one that holds me back.

 

Zuko

Katara is giving one hell of a fight to break free from my grasp, but I keep her back before she does something that will put her in danger. Around us, Sokka and Aang are struggling to get to their feet and pleading for her to calm down. She doesn’t listen. This is a mess, a more pitiful one than the fight at the cabin before.

“I heard my name,” Zhao recalls, “Were you talking about me?”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Zhao?” I demand. “You are imprisoning children now?”

“An airbender child, as you can see,” he watches as Aang uses his own breathe to push himself up. “Interesting friends the ones that you have there, Prince Zuko.”

Katara slowly desists in her attempts to attack Zhao, and I pull Aang closer to me as well. “Zhao let him go, he is just a kid!

“No wonders your father banished you as soon as he had the chance. You clearly have no idea what it entails to be a fighter.”

“Your father?” Aang parrots in confusion.

“What is he talking about?” Sokka questions.

Their eyes are focused on me, worried and curious. Guilt makes the sole sensation unbearable, like every pore on my skin ached. What will they do once they find out I have done nothing but keep secrets? Sokka already hated me long before this, and Aang is too trusting for his own good. Maybe this will only shatter his view of the world and make him more cynical. Especially towards me.

Katara finally appeases and grabs another fistful of my robe so tight the fabric rasps my skin again. It is hard to explain, but her grip somehow feels like more of a comforting act; she was the only one that knew about my father and my banishment – in some way, at least – and that makes it enough for her to be concerned about me despite… everything else.

It is only because she is empathetic, I tell myself, but looking into her eyes, I want to believe… just for a moment… that she doesn’t hate me.

I still take her hand away from me and walk over to Zhao.

“I know enough about being a fighter,” I tell him, looking him defiant into his eyes. “And I know you wish you knew anything about a war. What do you think the Fire Lord is going to do when he finds out you kept the resurgence of the Avatar a secret? What would you do if I was the one to tell him if you take me to the Fire Nation? I would pay for that as long as it meant snitching on you. You are pathetic– ”

I register the pain of his slap before hearing the echo of it bouncing against the cell’s walls. My bottom lip throbs, and when I pass my tongue over it, I taste blood. Motherfucker was wearing a ring.

Katara, Aang, and Sokka flinch watching the scene; Lu Ten only stands there. So much for his loyalty.

“I see a hundred years in banishment have done little to temper your tongue,” Zhao reminisces and mocks me at the same time, “I was allowing you and your entourage to be locked up together as an act of generosity, I just changed my mind. Guards! Take the airbending kid to the farthest cell from this one there is!”

Katara shrieks: “No!

“Make space for the other prisoners in different cells and then take them there,” Zhao continues. “And someone prepare the cooler for Prince Zuko, I’m sure he will appreciate it.”

There is the wolfish smile again; he really does feed on people’s misery.

The guards come in and they pull Aang away from the rest of us. Katara and I try to get to him again, but it is useless; she attempts to throw herself forward again, but I stop her once more. Zhao and Lu Ten exit the cell as if this was only a pointless dramatic scene, unworthy of their attention. My teeth grit and the opening on my lip throbs once more with fury.

Burning fury.   

 

Katara

Everything happens agonizingly slow and too fast that I can’t stop it. First, they take Aang away and it is only a while after that they drag Sokka out. Zuko keeps containing me, telling me to calm down, but I am barely listening. I remember I was the one preventing him from doing something reckless in the cabin earlier, and now I can’t bring myself to care if I am passing as a hypocrite. 

Zhao’s threats stir multiple, harmful electric shocks in my brain, too intense for it to function properly. The commands I receive are the ones to my arms and legs, ordering them to keep those threats from becoming a reality.

Nobody will hurt my friends!

Nobody will separate me from my brother!

Except that someone is – the Fire Nation guard is dragging Sokka away from me, to some place where I won’t be there to protect him. The same way they did with Aang, the same way they will do with all of us if I don’t do something.

If… I… don’t…

I keep struggling with Zuko, telling him to let me go. He won’t listen, he repeats that if I jump to fight the guards, I will get myself killed.

I know that, you idiot, I just don’t care! I care about Sokka!

I care about Aang, I care about Zuko, I care about keeping the three of them safe and away from heartless thugs.

I care! Hell, I care! And that’s why it hurts!

It hurts to be unable to protect your loved ones. It hurts to live with that constant fear that you will lose more pieces of your heart… until there will be nothing left.

The pain… it is too intense. Like the loud, metallic thunder of the door closing.

I am locked again, along with my wrath and that pain that does nothing but grow the more my eyes become accustomed to the darkness inside the cell – the more time I spend away from my brother while they take him farther away from me.

Tears stream down my face. This isn’t fair.

Leaning against Zuko’s chest is the only way I have to earn some steadiness and not fall down to the ground. This isn’t fair!

The War is so unfair!

“Forgive me.”

My eyes snap open and go up to meet Zuko’s.

It takes me a moment to comprehend what he is apologizing for. (Us being here, Zhao, maybe even for the war as a whole and his resemblance to Fire Lord Ozai.)

I would like to tell him it is not his fault and… now that I look at him this close… his resemblance to the Fire Lord is not all that vivid.

I mean… it is there, but at the same time… it isn’t.

Zuko’s features are different; his eyes are different. Softer, gentler.

Emotional, guilty, sad.

And deeper, more golden.

“I… um…” he murmurs “is… is your cut okay?”

His hand raises and comes closer to my neck – to the scratch that Fire Nation guard made me.

Zuko’s fingers shake, he keeps hesitating, retreating, and then moving closer to touch my scrape; it is reminiscing of when he tried to touch the bruises on my wrist. And of when I tried to touch the scars on his back.

He is not comfortable with this kind of touch yet. But he is trying.

I guess the two of us are… considering circumstances.

A drop of blood drips from his broken lip, I wipe it away with my fingers. His lip is beating. Like a heart.

The guards tear the door open again and come inside in a herd-like formation. They yank Zuko by the collar of his clothes, away from me and towards only who knows where.

No.

No!

The door roars closed before my cry ends.

Chapter 26: Chapter 二十五: My satellite

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Aang

My eyes move over the ship; I set a rhythm for them, like tapping. With a pace and pauses, it is easier to concentrate and focus on specific spots. So far, there’s not much to see. The Fire Nation ship is big, dark, gives the impression of being evil by itself – (I picture it transforming into some kind of giant and destroying the world all alone) – but there aren’t many openings for a grand escape since the guards are taking me through a narrow corridor on the lower deck. A lonely and narrow corridor. Nobody but the two guards and me.

I smirk.

 “So…” the word slides slowly from my mouth “I guess you’ve never fought an airbender before.” I touch the cuff’s shackles around my wrists, weighing them.

“I bet I could take you both with my hands tied behind my back,” I conclude.

The guards don’t think the same: “Silence.”

Okay.

We get to an end with a metallic door, the man standing in front of me tries to unlock it. My lungs expand with the breath I take and when I exhale, I enlarge it. Enlarge the air.

With a typhoon-like level of intensity, it is easy to push the guard against the door and knock him out with the hit, meanwhile, the discharge sends me flying back, crash against the guard behind my back, and then make us both strike the stairs. The one behind me also faints; he was so nice for softening my crash!

I use airbending to jump straight to the top of the stairs and onto the stern. There’s another soldier walking here. I cast a gust of air with my legs that kicks him outboard.  

“Sorry!” I yell over the ship’s border. “You haven’t seen my friends around, have you?”

 

Katara

The soldiers came to relocate me to another cell at last – (why does it feel so much like a cruel joke?)

I don’t know where they took the others, but seeing that they are taking me through an outer pathway instead of the lower deck, I can only imagine they are following Zhao’s orders of keeping all of us far, far away from each other. (Another cruel joke, I guess.)

Out here, the sound of the waves brushing the ship is drowning. Such loud, strong of strokes of saltwater…

Mmmmm…

It’s a long shot, but…

Staring down at the dark blue ocean, I move my hand as much as the cuffs allow me. A small concentration of water, like a really big droplet, rises from the waves.

And I throw it at the face of one of the guards.

Ah!

The other one grabs my neck, but when I kick his blinded-by-seawater friend, he throws a swing that flies above my head and smacks the one of the dumb Fire Nation soldier/strangler.

I pull away from them both and rip off a set of keys from the belt of the one I threw the water at. (They’re not labeled, there’s no way to tell if any of them is for my chains, but just in case.) I could just run now and hope for the best.

But.

I slam and push the two idiots into the water.

Hmph!

 

Zuko

Zhao wanted to personally witness my incarceration. (So him.)

“I must say, Prince Zuko, I in actual fact expected you to have an ounce of loyalty left.”

My eyes narrow at the back of his head. The sinister chorus of steps the two of us and the soldiers make envelopes us. For some horrible and twisted reason… I realize it doesn’t sound much different than it would if I was walking alongside them out of my own free will, without chains or bounds. It makes me sick.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I bite out.

“I know what purpose your father had for you in the War.” The sickness increases when I notice how wistful his voice sounds, like he was eager to see me as an all-powerful monster destroying everything on my path. “You were supposed to be the perfect soldier, the embodiment of the most powerful country the world had ever seen. And yet you chose… ”

Yeah, that is it. I chose this. I choose to be like this.

I am not like them.

“Keep going,” I say, taunting him. Daring him. “At least I chose something. So much for not being a fighter, huh?”

I almost don’t notice when he turns around until he yanks me by the front of my clothes and throws me against the wall. By the moment I recover, his forearm is already pressing my throat.

“I also know what flaw revealed you as a mediocre soldier,” Zhao taunts back. And he knows I can’t argue because he is right. I was a pawn, even I was disposable. “You spoke out of turn.”

He yanks me again, ungluing me from the door I bumped and then opening it for throwing me in.

“Enjoy your new quarters!”

The door locks at the same time my body clashes and breaks some of the ice inside the closet-length room. Just seconds after, the coldness stings my skin and numbs my muscles and my blood. This is why they called it The Cooler, nobody would be able to firebend at this temperature.

But I am not just anybody.

Big puffs of air come out of my mouth in forced panting, some of them already have flakes that could form into snow. I keep breathing out, feeling all of my core burn. My veins; my blood heating. My breath becomes heavier but less dense, until I see the flames coming out of my mouth.

I blow the fire over the conduits. The ice covering them melts at blink-speed, and I hear the unions and pins popping out of their place.

Ha!

 

Sokka

In a perfect world, I’d be able to take down every Fire Nation guard in this ship with the astounding power of my mind and my wicked charisma.

This isn’t a perfect world. It’s an unfair world where the good guys are caught off guard and that’s obviously the only reason why they are knocked down with one punch alone. (That guy will get it the next time we face-off!)

I must say though, it is at times like this when I wish Katara was here with her magic water and her loud mouth, and I wouldn’t even care that she yelled at me as long as she was here, and I could see she was safe, and…

Two solid blocks of ice hit the guards square on the head.

“Holy– ”

“Sokka!”

“Baby sister!”

Okay, I know it’s kinda a punch in the gut to my masculinity that my little sister is saving me from a group of beefy, merciless assassins – not that I was scared or anything – but I won’t think about that now. Point is that my little sister is a badass waterbender, and she’s perfect! 

Katara nearly tackles me down in a hug. For a second there, I could have sworn it was like time had never passed and she was still a little kid I could carry around. (Oh, how I wish we could get back to those times!)

“How did you escape?”

“I threw salty water to the eyes of one of my guards and then I pushed the two overboard.” (She makes it sound like it was the easiest, clearest thing in the world.) “And look, these keys opened my cuffs. Maybe one of them could be for yours.”

She fumbles with the keys, they jingle between her fingers and she tries around three of them before my own cuffs open.

With my now free hands, I take her head and give her a kiss on the forehead. “You’re the bestest best sister ever!”

“I know, but you’ll tell me later, we have to find Aang and Zuko.”

 

Aang

If I was a ship… where would I have some lockups?

Maybe the three guys pointing their swords at me can tell. “You haven’t seen my friends around, right?” I ask.

They spring forward. I convoke a blast of air with my legs that makes them bounce and fall to the ground.

“Thanks anyway!” I say, casting an airball to jump over them.

Monkeyfeathers, this is taking forever! I have to do something.

Could I use… No, no, no. Too dangerous.

But…

I sigh. Okay, but I need someplace safe. Somewhere I can hide as long as possible.

The airball rolls me over to one of the intersections in the middle of the hallway. The place is quiet for now, no footsteps, no shouts, no sounds of fire blazing. I know it won’t last that way so I need to work fast.

My legs cross in padmasana, my hands lay over my lap as relaxed as they can with the handcuffs still on, my eyes close, and I… see black. There’s a rope reaching for me, coming down slowly in the middle of the darkness [1]. It is real, I convince myself that it is real. I discern all of its fibers; when I touch it, I feel its roughness. My palms sweat as I climb it. The more I focus on the rope and on the height I have to reach, the more the rest of the sensations fade. I don’t hear or feel anything, not even the air flowing. I am out.

 

Katara

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” Sokka arches an eyebrow at me, curious and annoyed that we stopped right in the middle of the lower deck where a guard could pass by at any minute.

“I don’t know,” I admit, “I… I thought I saw Aang.”

I did, but I didn’t. It wasn’t him, it was… a fusion of light that was shaped like him. And it was really hard to see it, because… it was a blink. It disappeared in a blink.

“You must be seeing things because you’re worried,” Sokka tells me, “Don’t panic, we’ll find Aang and Zuko.”

I’m not seeing things… am I?

 

Zuko

The machinery hasn’t gone awry yet, I have to keep throwing fire at it.

I catch something over the corner of my eye.

Was that… Was that Aang?

 

Aang

Before my body regains full consciousness, I feel my own face hurting for how big I’m smiling! It worked! Astral projection worked!

Fine, Aang, but you have to concentrate. Sokka and Katara are free and together, it is Zuko the one that’s still locked up. I make my airball appear under my feet again and ride to the place where I found him: a big, thick door embed on the wall several turns away from where I was. There are some growls on the inside, it must be him.

“Zuko!”

“Aang?”

“I found you! I didn’t get it wrong!” I cheer. “Stand back, I’m gonna get you out of there.”

“No! Aang, you have to stay away!”

“What?”

“I don’t have time to explain, but I have a plan; you have to keep your distance. But first, listen: when the room blows up…”

 

Sokka

Katara and I keep going through every curve, but more than a warship, this place looks like one of those bad labyrinth games where you have to draw a line that gets in and out! (What the hell was this engineer smoking?)

It doesn’t help that it is dark and the walls have this odd red glow that seems to come from nowhere. If I was crazy, I would say it is only the reflection of this stupid country’s innate evil. Because I am not, I am saying it is the reflection of the light in the copper of the walls. Maybe.

Katara and I sneak our way around what seem to be miles of rectangular hallways, but we haven’t found any cages or quarters where Zhao could keep Aang or Zuko.

We might find some now that we found Zhao himself. “You two freed yourselves?” he says, clearly surprised.

Katara throws him a dirty look. She steps ahead like she was already planning on (literally) ice-picking his eyes out. “We put your guards to sleep.”

Ooooh! I kinda don’t like the way she says that last part – too creepy – but anything that puts Zhao in his place.

Hey, wait a minute! Shouldn’t I be the one doing that?

“Looks like I underestimated you two.” Zhao gets in his fighting stance. “Too bad your Avatar friend is not here to save you this time.”

And that’s when something explodes and the alarms go off. (He just had to say it, didn’t he?)

The entire boat shakes like the Earth itself was leaning to one side, and we move like pendulums inside. I grab Katara with one arm and keep the two of us from smacking against the wall with the other; Zhao’s armor rings when it crashes (repeatedly). Different explosions shoot themselves one right after the other. Some quieter, some bigger, there are valves failing, and the alarms sound like babies waking you up in the middle of the night.

“Man, I sure hope this thing had insurance!” I yell at Zhao.

Smoke enters the hallway. What the hell did Zuko do this time? Is he trying to sink the ship from the inside or what? 

At first, it is only small clouds, but they grow fast! Soon, they are covering us, choking us. Seriously, what was Zuko thinking?

And now someone is covering my mouth and Katara’s and pulling us back. Perfect!

Katara and I struggle to get free while the person shushes us from behind our backs. Don’t shush me, you jerk! But then I realize we are… is the smoke… sphering around us? Is Zuko the guy holding us back? Is Aang the one I see airbending the smoke so it serves as our personal giant, breathing bubble?

Katara and I nod when Zuko gives us a heavy look. He lets go and points to another junction – or to where I know there’s another junction because I saw it before he decided to give a ‘Smokescreens 101’ class!

Aang and he do some more of his airbenders performance, making round moves with their arms to keep the smoke flowing and following us as we move across the passageways and the commotion – which sounds even louder now that I can hear without coughing my lungs out!

The clang of steps against metal says that the soldiers are rushing to the source of the chaos, but at least they aren’t running our way.

We get to a narrower space where the stairs that take to the stern are placed. Once we get up, Zuko closes the entrance to the lower deck and kicks the lock, breaking it.

“What the eff was that about?” is the first thing I say – because damn right I want to know what causes us to almost die of smoke inhalation.

“Zuko made the machinery of the freezer they got him in blow up!” Aang says with his cult-to-everything-that-shines eyes. “And he also used firebending for freeing himself from firebending-proof handcuffs! And he broke my handcuffs!” He takes his own wrists and turns to look at Zuko like the firebending jerk hung the moon! “Seriously, pal, you’re my hero!

“Can we stop being ‘Zuko’s Personal Fanclub’ for once and focus?”

Zuko glares at me. “Excuse me?”

“Boys,” Katara’s voice interrupts us, “it’s not that I don’t enjoy your delightful conversations, but… where’s the pier?”

When I look over my annoyance at Mr. I’m-So-Above-Having-A-Plan… I realize there isn’t a pier. Nothing! We are in open sea!

“Zhao must have ordered them to head course!” Zuko states when we race to the border of the ship to confirm we are moving. (Unexpected, but… we are.)

I feel Aang tensing next to me. “Guys, watch out!”

He and Zuko turn and thwart a firebending current directed at the four of us. (Zuko uses firebending, Aang uses airbending.) The guy that shot us is the one we saw with Zhao earlier when he first captured us. “Actually, I was the one that told them to head course.”

“Lu Ten,” Zuko grits.

Katara puts a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. (Pretty bold move to touch a firebender in bending stance.) “We don’t have time for this, we have to find a way to get back to the pier.”

“You are seriously saying you don’t have time to fight a firebender Colonel?” that Lu Ten guy throws back.

“You are seriously a twenty-something arguing with teenagers?” Zuko says.

Oof! (Maybe he’s not so bad to have around after all…)

Lu Ten shoots us again, Zuko blocks it. (Forget it what I said. He is a magnet of disaster!)

“Somebody has to drive us back to the pier,” Zuko deduces.

“I can do that,” I say, pulling out my club from my belt. “And Katara, come with me. Who knows if we’ll need some more ice-knock-outing.”

She nods.

“Aang and I will handle this while you do that,” Zuko says, “Be careful.”

“Of course, I always am,” I grin. “C’mon, sis.”

 

Zuko

I cast a fire screen to cover Sokka and Katara’s way as they head to the deck. Lu Ten pushes it away and shoves another blast at me. Aang and I have to split in order to keep it from hitting either of us. The fire makes it difficult to not tire oneself too fast, the heat is already making me pant and sweat.

Lu Ten attacks me again and I roll over to skip it; he is targeting me in specific, Aang is not a priority for him. That diminishing might serve our side.

I nod at Aang to go further to the side – out of Lu Ten’s line of sight – and when Lu Ten himself comes at me yet again, I push myself up pirouetting back, luring him away from Aang.

“Trying to kill me already?” I jeer at Lu Ten. “Afraid Zhao might steal your thunder?”

I skip another blow. “It is not personal,” he says, and it does sound professional, like all of this was mere protocol, like everything was just a means to an end. “Not all of us can make big names for ourselves just by being born.”

Another blast. I block it, watching him come closer through the flames fading. “Some of us lose what is rightfully ours,” he continues, “and we have to get it back.”

“You think I don’t know what loss feels like?” I say.

My country, my throne, my family; sound familiar?

He hesitates for a moment, his stance remains, but his eyes glisten with doubt. Or consideration. Either of them makes him pause for a mere shift of my eyes.

Aang follows them – my eyes, my signal – and pushes Lu Ten forward with an airbending move. I catch and immobilize him, bowing his knees down and pinning his arms on his back. His eyes grow in pain and shock until they zero in me with plain disdain. He looks at me like I was no better. Than who, I don’t know; but I know Lu Ten thinks I am not excessively above whatever level he set me in.

“My, what an effective ambuscade, Prince Zuko,” he says, his expression is one of a repressed smile with no humor, “You really are a member of the royal family.”

Oh.

So it was that.

Acid resentment runs through my veins – (really? He is going to throw that on my face?) – but my hands shake with… unwillingness. (What am I supposed to do now? Kill him?) He wouldn’t be a threat anymore if I did it, nor to our group, nor to the rest of the world as part of an enemy army. He wouldn’t chase us, wouldn’t cause damage to anyone else ever again, and yet… he kind of looks like me.

A little, only the shape of our faces. His face reddens when his blood goes up for the angle his head is inclined.

Blood.

He is only human.

When my hand hits the center of his neck, I feel his throat sink, I feel him choking. Non-fatally so. He will recover sooner rather than later.

“Aang, we have to– ” several fire blades cut through the hatchway I locked. “Okay, new plan: stay close to me.” Things are about to go bump.

 

***

 

Sokka

Katara and I tip-run to the deck of the ship till we stand on the starboard. “So what now?”

“Well, at the risk of seeming obvious…” I take out my bolases and throw them to one of the clear view screens above us. We can’t see much from here, but there’s the sound of glass breaking, a scream, and a thud, so… it’s fair to assume we are good.

“Fine, but how are gonna go up?” Katara wonders again.

“Can’t you make one of those ice chains of yours?”

“You know my waterbending is never good unless I am angry.” She pauses. “Quick, say something that makes me angry!”

Perfect task for me!

“Uh… One of those new Air Nomad girlfriends of yours asked me out on a date.”

What?” my sister screeches, outraged.

“Yeah. I might even take a shot with her, she’s kinda cute– ”

Right before I can finish, she moves her arm like she was throwing something and it is nothing other than a long water tentacle from the very ocean that becomes a thick ice string over the deck.

“Awesome!” I exclaim.

“Right when I think I’ve done something without you sticking your nose in it,” Katara says, so obviously not letting go of her Girl Code stuff.

“Maybe you should be grateful that you have friends with taste,” I grin. “But congratulate yourself later, we have things to do in here.”

She growls. I think I could do so, too. (Sisters, huh?) (They get angry over the most ridiculous stuff.)

We use the ice to climb to the helm cabin, the one which’s window we broke and the helmsman is unconscious on the floor next to the bolases. I consider throwing him through the hole on the window, but Katara thinks then he could use that to get back in when he wakes up, so we open the door and drag him outside before locking ourselves inside the cabin.

“What now?”

The compass on the control panel says the ship is heading to the northwest. We were captured for how long? A couple of hours? More? I know that if it had been enough time to get out of Southern waters we would be heading straight to the North – in our way to have our heads served in a Fire Nation banquet. So…

“Assuming this is what Zuko did back at the South Pole,” I whirl the helm to the right. The ship nearly drops in the same direction, Katara slips and screams when her whole body follows the inclination.

“What is it that boys have against giving warnings?” she complains.

“Sorry, little dudette! Better buckle up!” I spin the wheel again for stabilizing us (don’t know how well that works) and establishing a steadier course of return.

The sound of attacks and voices outside tells us someone is battling close to us. That can’t be good.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know. I’m gonna take a look.” Katara comes to fit herself through the glass we broke, twisting away from the dagger-like (or worse) pieces of shattered glass!

“Katara!” I call. “Katara, are you crazy?

“It’s for stopping anyone we don’t want any close from coming closer.” She slithers out, holding herself from the roof.

Oh, Spirits! (Sisters, huh?)

 

***

 

Zuko

Zhao and his crew cut the iron of the hatch, the smoke from the failed machinery is the first one to come out in one big, dense cloud. (Don’t know why, but all the trouble it is going to take them repair the ship after the damage I caused makes me feel strangely proud…)

“Suffocating us to death, Prince Zuko,” Zhao sneers at me once he pushes his men out of the way to get himself out, “I knew you had it in you.”

My smirk drops. “I am not a killer,” I affirm. “Ask Lu Ten over there if you don’t believe me.”

He is contorting on the floor fighting to not swallow his own larynx. But he is alive and awake.

“Well done, you spared the life of a rich daddy’s boy,” Zhao bores, “You must have felt kinship.”

I think I could copy his characteristic animal grimace if it allowed me to bite his head off. “What did you just say to me?

Aang tries to ease me, but he doesn’t get to before Zhao launches a shot at the two of us. (At least we know he set the two of us as targets.)

He yells at his men to come get me. Telling Aang to step back, I block all of their firebending attacks using airbending to make an air whirl, trapping the blazes with it, and concentrating them to turn it into a firebending defense. I shoot them their own fire multiplied.

“You learned airbending already?” Zhao inquires after dodging it. (This has to be the first time that I see him genuinely surprised instead of angry or sadistically pleased.)

“A lot has changed,” I say.

He throws another blast at me, but Aang slices his fire into pieces with cutting blows of air.

“Don’t let him get to you, Zuko,” Aang warns me, standing in a defensive pose for another assault, “Remember that airbending requires contact with one’s spirit. It’s a wild guess but if your Avatar Spirit awakens out of rage… you could get into the Avatar State again.”

And sink the ship, provoke an earthquake, making us explode; the works. Yeah, I remember.

Zhao comes for another hit. This time I am the one to shelter Aang.

“The Avatar State…” Zhao muses as if tasting the words “That is how that strange condition you got in last time is called?”

I step forward, shooting fire from my fist. “That is none of your business.”

Suddenly the ship sinks – or very nearly sinks – to the right side, changing course.

“Whoa!” Aang says once we slide to the side. “You think Sokka and Katara had something to do with that?”

The ship swifts course another time, we slide to the opposite side.

“Nah, must be a coincidence,” I say, dryly.

While the rest of the Fire Nation soldiers try not to fall into the open sea, Zhao clutches to the starboard and grits something under his breath. I don’t manage to catch what it is, but it can’t be anything good judging by how he speeds in direction to the ship’s superstructure.

“Aang, stay here and fight the soldiers, I am getting Zhao!”

I follow him through a set of stairs and halt him before he can open a door to the accommodation bridge. My fingers shoot a current that welds the door close.

“Don’t even think about it.”

I am not afraid of Zhao. Ever since we met, I have never been afraid of him. Never, not even once. But now, today, at this moment, when he turns around… I realize I also had never seen him. The real him. Without the different masks he puts up to make himself seem… human. The ones I continuously see peeling off.

When he looks at me, it isn’t a man the one I see anymore. It isn’t an animal either. Even animals communicate feelings; they have energy, auras. Zhao is… plain dead. It is hatred the one that keeps him going, and since we are alone now, all he needs is the pure, unadulterated hatred he directs towards me to nourish himself. I can feel it as though it was sucking the vitality out of me, like he was… trying to take out what makes me human.

“What, worried about your girlfriend?” he chews out. “She is the one that’s inside, right? Otherwise, it wouldn’t matter.”

I glare at him. “That is not true.”

“Isn’t it? You saved her excuse of a village in the South Pole for her. What other reasons would you have to care about them?”

My fists clench. “That is not true,” I grit, spitting fury.

“Mere facts, Prince Zuko. What is a man without his country? Look at you. You go around pretending you have left the Fire Nation behind and that you accept the few crumbs the other nations throw your way, but you wear our colors and our clothes nevertheless. Feeling homesick?”

Something stings me from the inside. I don’t know what it is, but I know I don’t want it to be acknowledgement. I don’t want it to be nostalgia.

“In your own way, you know this little fight you are putting up is wrong,” he continues, “because you know you are not fighting for your own people. Your motives are weak, and before you start a war, you better to know what – and who – you’re fighting for, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation Zuko.”

‘Crown Prince.’

I bite my lip, so hard that it reopens the cut from Zhao’s slap; it was what I wanted, I soak in the blood and the pain. Instead of distracting me, it accentuates what Zhao is saying. Crown Prince of Fire Nation blood. There wasn’t a need for me to swear loyalty to my country, the latter was implicit, inherited. Ingrained.

Zhao looks at me intently and triumphantly, like my sudden lack of reaction was what he wanted. (Perhaps it was. It is when I stop fighting that I feel the less like myself.) But he is interrupted by a big chunk of ice falling on top of his head. I barely blink while I watch it knocking him out.

Katara was the one who threw it, she is standing on the structure’s rooftop.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Did she hear us? How much, exactly, did she hear? She didn’t hear the part where Zhao called her ‘my girlfriend’, did she?

Her expression gives nothing away; I can’t even see her eyes glowing although I can distinguish their color. A few strands of her hair escape her ponytail and hair loopies, blowing with the wind. She is beautiful.

We stare down at each other from the height difference.

Sokka’s voice cuts us off. “Katara, what’s going on in there?”

“Nothing!” she answers – as innocently as she can after knocking out an adult man.

“Can you come here? I need ya to do something for me now that you’re outside!”

She goes towards her brother’s voice without glancing back at me. (Guess she did hear us.) I use my stunts to push myself onto the rooftop and follow the two of them, Katara looks upside-down into one of the cabins while kneeling at the edge. “What is it?”

“I think I have a plan to ensure Zhao won’t bother us for a while,” Sokka’s voice replies.

Mimicking Katara’s posture, I get to see him at the helm of the ship. (Why am I not surprised?) “No good can come out of that.”

“Zuko!” he greets me. “Buddy, so happy to see you!”

Yeah, right.  

“Listen, I did some math, and I think I can drive us back to the pier,” he indicates, “but it’s gonna takes ages to get there, so I thought: ‘Hey, we could go faster!’ And then I thought: ‘We could go faster than faster!’ And then I thought: ‘We could do a lot of damage by going faster than faster’.”

“Do you mind explaining?”

“I want to crash this ship against the others parked at the pier,” he finally settles.

What?” I shout.

“Nobody would follow us!”

“Nobody would survive!

“It doesn’t have to be like that, we’ll get everyone out before the grand explosion. And I still don’t hear anyone else brainstorming how to get Zhao off our case.”

Good point.

“So what do we gotta do?” Katara asks.

“Go to the machinery room and accelerate the engine,” he says. “It’s a steam engine, fire and water. It’s the perfect work for you two!”

Right.

“We could get to the machinery room through the hatch the soldiers broke,” I point out. But looking back, I notice… “Aang has company there.”

“Don’t call anyone’s attention,” Sokka advises, “get in here and use the door. I’ll activate the alarms to tell you when you have to come up again.”

Katara and I get inside the cabin through a broken window. (I don’t want to ask.) When we pass the door, we find the helmsman unconscious on the floor on the other side of it. (I definitely don’t want to ask.) It takes us a while to remark…

“Shouldn’t we have asked Sokka if he knew where the machinery room is?” Katara says.

I facepalm myself.

“I can help you with that,” another voice startles us from our side. It is General Iroh, Lu Ten’s father. My other descendant. He chuckles, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

 

Katara

General Iroh seems… approachable. Even friendly, smiley. His posture is regal, but his energy is greeting. He doesn’t resemble Zuko either.

Maybe a little on the shape of his eyes, their outline is definitely smoother than the one of Firelord Ozai’s despite Iroh’s deeper wrinkles. He reminds me of Gran-Gran. It is something in the way the two of them stand; perhaps all elderly people give off that air of compassion and openness.

It feels bizarre to say ‘compassion and openness’ for describing someone part of the Fire Army, especially after tonight. My hand goes to the pendant of my necklace, the tips of my fingers dig into its carved lines. Adding new anger to an old grudge is a horrible sensation, but that’s what tonight managed. After everything Zhao did to me and my friends, my brother, to Zuko…

Zuko.

He hasn’t talked to me yet. And, being honest, I haven’t done much to talk to him either… or acknowledge what happened with Zhao.

He is the one who responds to Iroh’s offer. “Why would you do that?”

Iroh shrugs. “Family sticks together.”

“Lu Ten doesn’t seem to share that philosophy.”

Iroh looks down. “My son has acquired wrong beliefs. Mayhap for my fault, but that is for another talk. His heart is… mostly in the right place though.”

“Is it?”

They stare at each other surrounded by charged silence. The atmosphere is the one of a reverse mirror, those that show them their opposite. In appearance, at least. The two of them do have some of the same aura as well. It is… I don’t know, strong and bustling. It feels a bit… like fire.

“Where is the machinery room then?” Zuko presses.

“Down the hallway, to the left, you can follow the signs.”

Zuko has been poker-faced ever since what Zhao told him. He remains like that when he leaves to where Iroh is pointing, without thanking or looking back.

“Thanks, General Iroh,” I say.

“My pleasure, young lady!”

“You should find someplace safe,” I tell him, “This place is about to go down.”

I run after Zuko to the room; when he opens the door, the hot steam nearly burns me through my clothes. Zuko reaches the main mechanism, using one of his fire daggers to open a compartment that reveals the coal and the fire inside. The flames create intense yellow and red lighting across the walls, the added temperature turns this place more into an oven than anything else. Though, it also seems more somber…

“Katara, throw some more coal in here,” he tells me.

I do, and he starts growing the flames using his firebending. From here, the ship appears immovable, there’s not the smallest indication that we are moving. Not waving, not shaking, not even one of Sokka’s crazy turns... till the alarms go off.

In a blink, I feel Zuko tensing, his anxiety is so cutting that the hairs on my own arms stand, and he pushes the two of us out of the way of a firebending blast from the door. Lu Ten was the one who shot it.

He looks different from the person that captured us. He was much more in-control than Zhao then – (not that that’s very difficult) – but he looked more serious, more worthy. Now he is disoriented, inelegant, and angry. Not Zuko-angry though, Lu Ten’s rage is much darker.

“Way to leave me for dead, kid,” he spits out in Zuko’s way, holding on to his own throat.

Zuko is still impassive. “I knew you were going to live.”

“Sure, live humiliated by the fact that the Avatar defeated me and felt enough pity to leave me alive. I cannot thank you enough.”

What is it with everyone’s need to prove who is the toughest one?

The alarms continue wailing and clanking, the lights are a burning red. Knowing what Sokka is about to do, they are a sign of absolute danger – death – and they are insisting for us to get out. Amidst the heat of the room, Zuko’s skin feels cold for dread.

“Katara, you have to get out of here.”

My fingers cling to his sleeve. The rest of my body freezes, refusing to move.

“You have to leave,” he presses, murmuring. “He is coming only after me. And you heard Sokka’s plan, you have to get somewhere safe.”

My nails claw deeper into his clothes, piercing my own palm. No, he can’t do this. He can’t expect me to leave again. He can’t tell me to leave and don’t look back. He can’t tell me to leave!

You said you would be here, I think at him, remembering our conversation. You said it like you promised it.

He takes my hand, his skin isn’t cold anymore, nor is it warm. It is ghostly, I wouldn’t feel anything if I didn’t know he was touching me. It is different. We have to be different. We can’t be our usual selves. We can’t be…

I let go of him.

He shoots Lu Ten another blast and I use the chance to escape, remembering the path where we found the hatch the first time. When I get to the stern, Aang stops some soldiers from cutting my head off.

“Katara!” he smiles.

Sokka is with him. “And the grumpy one?”

Something is taking over my body from the inside. It dulls me. “He stayed behind.”

 

 

Zuko

Lu Ten obviously doesn’t think this is protocol anymore, I turned it personal.

His attacks are stiff and straightforward, but he is so blinded by rage he keeps missing, and he is turning this into more of a physical fight than a bending one. His rage is reminiscing of… me. (Great moment to notice the family resemblance!)

I keep dodging, but he is fast, and I am tired, and I have thousands of things to worry about! Like the fact that we could be about to detonate!

Do I really look like him when I get… like that? So brutish? 

He throws me off balance and I fall dangerously close to the breach in the engine with the coal and the fire. The right side of my face burns, it burns so much…

Lu Ten presses his arm on my throat. An eye for an eye, I guess.

I try to kick him off, but with the lack of air and the fire disorienting me… I can’t. I feel like I am inside of one of my flashback nightmares, someone is fighting me without mercy and the worst part is that he is a member of my own family. The fire stings and prickles the skin on my face, This is so much worse than a nightmare; this is real, it is irreversible! If he kills me, it is over. If he burns the other side of my face, it is over as well. And I can’t fight it – I can’t fight that awareness, and the fire, and him at the same time! I am losing!

Someone hits him in the head, knocking him out. It is Sokka.

He helps me stand up. “We have to go!”

“Can you help me get him out?” I point to Lu Ten on the floor.

Seriously?

Can you?”

He rolls his eyes. We carry Lu Ten’s unconscious body to the stern.

“Boys!” Katara and Aang run towards us, the pier is coming closer behind them. We are the ones that are approaching. To one of the other warships. At high speed.

Sokka repeats that we have to get out of here – (because that wasn’t clear enough, boy genius!) – but we can’t leave behind the rest of the unconscious soldiers on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of them!” Iroh walks in our direction. Cheery, careless.

“You will?”

“Like I said, family sticks together… Uncle.”

Uncle. That is our parentage. He is Azulon’s son.

Sokka grabs me by the back of my collar; he, Aang, Katara, and I jump into the ocean. It takes us a mere second to reemerge to the surface and witness the massive, continuous explosions we caused. The warships fall one by one in a domino effect.

“Well,” Sokka says, wringing the water out of his hair, “that went well.”

 

***

 

Katara

I am soooo glad I insisted Sokka packed some medicine in Appa’s bag; you can never be too cautious.

After… the fireworks show… we swam to the coast where we left Druk, Appa, and Hawky. I think all of them took a moment to recognize us. Something about us changed, I’m just not sure what is it. And I can’t seem to figure out while helping Zuko disinfect his broken lip.

He hisses and pulls away once more when I put the disinfectant over it.

 “Sorry.”

“I don’t even know if it is the medicine or the saltwater the one that is making it burn.”

“It is because it caught seawater that you need the disinfectant,” I remind him, a little amused by the fact that he can spend the entire night battling commanders, and colonels, and soldiers, but he hisses at disinfectant.

The corner of his mouth goes up, his lips are impossibly pink against the red cut.

“Shouldn’t you be taking care of your scratch, too?” he says once I try to put the medicine on it yet again.

“Nah, it’s just a scab already.”

“You have dry blood on your neck.” His thumb comes close to the rough mark on my throat and wipes away the crusty trail scattered around the wound.

It is nice, the way he always worries. About what I feel, what I think, whatever happens to me… And yet… in this situation…

“So… um…” he starts, looking down; his face looks kind of rosy “when you threw that ice at Zhao earlier…”

I stare at him. “Yes?”

“Um… he was saying some stuff to me and I was… wondering… how much of it did you hear.”

From the part where he said you only saved the Southern Water Tribe because of me. He said you only cared about the world because of me.

“Enough, I guess.”

He hums and nods, rubbing the back of his head.

“You didn’t…” I try to choose my words carefully “You didn’t listen to anything he said, right? You didn’t believe it.”

He is quiet. It makes me worry.

“Zuko, when that guard took me hostage… what did you think?”

In a second, his eyes become melted gold once he meets mine. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“And what did you do?”

He looks puzzled. “I surrendered.”

“That means he was wrong about you. About your… motivations… to fight.”

It is his turn to stare at me; I watch the emotions flow in that liquid gold. Every gleam is a new feeling. I can’t identify them all, they are too many, too confusing.

“When Zhao caught you, he cornered me. I was desperate. It was terrifying. It still is. To realize there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Silence falls upon us.

I don’t know where we are anymore. I don’t know who we are; I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. And I don’t want to know! I don’t want to start deciphering things tonight: how I feel, how he feels, what does all of this mean. But there is one thing…

“I can’t be… that… for you, Zuko.”

I realize I am sad; I never thought I wouldn’t want to be someone’s reason. I don’t want that responsibility, I don’t want the world to depend on me like that. All my life, I've been responsible for everyone, older and younger than me, for once I want to... no.

As if reading my thoughts, Zuko nods. “I know.”

He pauses. “You don’t have to worry, this is something I have to solve by myself. Thanks for being here though. I appreciate it.”

He bows to me. When he straightens and I see his eyes, more of those emotions are swimming. So many blazes

Aang calls for us: “Guys, are you done yet? We have to return before the sun comes up.”

Zuko is the first one to go.

Notes:

Trivia:

[1] Aang is applying a meditation technique used to self-induce Out-of-body experiences.

Chapter 27: Chapter 二十六: Show me your face

Notes:

Hey, guys! I’m sorry if I hadn’t gotten to reply to all your comments, but I want you to know that I read them all and they give me so much joy! I’m very grateful for all of you and I’m happy you consider my work worth reading. I had to delete some chapters since I made some changes, but I want you to know I saved all your comments and I read them whenever I need a smile!

Might take a hiatus from posting on this fic, I think I need some time to rest my creativity. But thanks again for being here, you guys inspire me 💖 💖

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Lu Ten

That filthy, rotting, scummy, treacherous coward sunk my ship!

At another time, watching Zhao’s outburst would alternate very swiftly between being annoying and amusing. And this wouldn’t be an exception, if he wasn’t forgetting one important detail:

“It was my ship!” I yell.

“And you made a great performance in charge, just whining on the floor!”

“Gentlemen,” my father calls, continuing his solo game of Pai Sho, “I think we rather focus on the fortune that nobody got hurt.”

“Father, you were the only one that wasn’t present in the battle. Did you catch glance of Avatar Zuko when he escape?

“Nope! Didn’t come across the young man.”

“He must be very knowledgeable in Fire Nation engineers to find the machinery room so quickly.”

“Oh, yeah,” he exclaims, dropping another tile over the board, “A mastermind.”

“That arrogant, childish prick!” Zhao goes on. “I bet he is celebrating this!”

 

***

 

Sokka

My foot keeps shaking the sulking loser. (Huh. How the tables have turned.) “Zuko, it’s been six hours.”

His growl gets deeper the more he curls into himself like a furless tigerdillo. (What a fitting mental picture for the moment.) “I am calling in sick.”

“C’mon, man, you can’t get like this just because you and Katara broke up.”

His head springs up from the pillow. (It’s a bit cringey to see his scarred eye so wide open for how wrinkly it is.) “Wha… What? We didn’t… We weren’t… And how do you know about that?”

“I eavesdropped on you two last night. In my defense, you guys are the most entertaining thing around. Like an epic romance in the middle of a train wreck.”

And here comes Zuko’s GlareTM.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, sitting next to him. “So that is what has you crying on your pillow?” (For six hours!)

He honestly should patent Zuko’s GlareTM, it’s the only glare I’ve seen that can become more murderous by second. And I have seen how Katara’s eyes get the profundity of ice peaks! It must have taken years of scowling for getting to their level.

“No,” he drops himself back on the sleeping mat. “And what do you care? Don’t you hate me or something?”

“What? What the heck are you talking about?”

“‘Zuko’s Personal Fanclub’? ‘Your Avatarness’? ‘We don’t need a hero’?” each recollection of my comeback repertoire sounds graver than the one before.

“Welp, I never realized you had that much of a good memory.”

He scowls some more.

“I don’t hate you, Zuko. It’s just…” my hand waves in a funny way “complicated. Hasn’t Katara talked to you about what the War has put us through?”

At least mentioning Katara calms him down. (Puaj! Lovebirds.) “She told me about your mother’s death and the burn on her back.”

“So you can understand why I wasn’t thrilled about her sparring with a firebender,” I deadpan.

His face falls, but for the rest, he looks accepting of my (valid) explanation.

“Listen, aside from my mother and my sister, my dad also went on to fight in the War,” I say, embracing my knees. “We haven’t talked or known from him for years. The War took away our childhoods, our parents. And, okay, I don’t hold the best opinion on Fire Nation fellas because of it.” I glance at him. “No offense. Plus, I’m not like Katara. She’s a person of faith, I’m a person of facts; and given your backstory, you weren’t exactly trustworthy, if you know what I mean. Again, no offense. And also…” I scratch the back of my head. “I guess I was bitter because you get to knock people out cold with two swings and I – the great Water Tribe warrior – always make a mess.” I glance at him once more. “Don’t let it get to your head though.”

It’s true, I am the one that carries belts filled with armaments and a promise to my dad to be the man that looks after his family, and yet I’m the one that can’t do anything right. I’m not a bender, and what’s more, I am not a trained warrior. I couldn’t fight Zuko when I thought he was a Fire Nation spy, Katara was the one that had to rescue me from the soldiers just last night. The universe never ceases to call me a wimp.   

“You don’t always make a mess.”

“What was that?”

“You saved my life last night. From Lu Ten.”

“Well, duh. That’s the hero drill. By the way, sorry your family reunion ended up in a purge.”

“Even in purges people are willing to hunt and hide together. My family isn’t fond of teamwork. It is one of the reasons why I left, and because of how ruthless they had become against the rest of the world.” He turns to me, his eyes look sympathetic enough. “I am sorry about your family, Sokka.”

I stay quiet… “Relax, it’s not your fault.”

“It keeps feeling like it is.”

“That’s because you’re being too harsh on yourself,” I say. “You wanna go talk to Gyatso? He is our resident spiritual expert-slash-parapsychologist-slash…”

“Sure, why not?” he drawls. “I need some help figuring out some stuff. And… thanks for coming to check on me, Sokka. I… I appreciate it.”

 

***

 

Aang

“Hey, Katara, check out this airbending trick!” (It is spinning two marbles between your hands without touching them.)

Katara keeps on saving the dishes after she helped prepare lunch. “That’s great, Aang.”

“You didn’t even look.”

Her head turns and her mouth forms a smile. “That’s great.”

“But I’m not doing it now!”

She sighs. “Sorry, I… have a lot in mind.”

“Is something wrong?” I wonder. “You’ve been acting weird since we came back last night.”

Her finger presses over her lips. (Of course, I forgot! Top secret mission, not talking about it while we’re in the dining area. Got it.)

Shhh!” she hisses before carrying more plates. “And there’s nothing wrong, don’t worry about it.”

“You think Zuko will like to see my trick?”

“Bet he will.”

I’m tempted to ask ‘You really think so?’, but it would sound too overexcited, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to impress the girl you’re crushing on by talking about… ah… the boy you’re crushing on?

Not that I have a crush on Zuko! (Pffft, of course I don’t have a crush on Zuko.)

He is just cool. And he is my hero. And he does all these badass stuff, and he fights real good, and it’s cool the way he mixes airbending and firebending, and he is handsome. Like, his scar is kind of off, but his jawline is so squared, and his eyes are so bright, and…

No, no, no, no! Katara. I’m focusing on Katara.

“Do you want to go sledding with me?” I offer her, trying to get my head away from Zuko and looking for another chance to impress her. “Maybe it will help you with whatever you have in mind?”

“Thanks, but I’m busy.”

“C’mon. Please, please, please, please, please!” I chant, my eyelashes batting.

She giggles. (It’s such a cute giggle! She’s so pretty!) “Okay.”

 

***

 

I turned my windsurf slider into a snow one; Katara and I fly over the snow monticules.

She laughs when the snow… snows on our cheeks as we break the road. “Thanks for inviting me, Aang! This is like being a kid again!”

“You still are a kid!” I reiterate her while I make us twirl over some more ‘mini-mountains’, the wind plugging our ears... until we stop on a far end of the village.

From here, the camp looks like a miniature model. It draws attention to how small it is in reality. A small patch of land where we all reunite. Not that that’s a bad thing, but it feels… wrong to be an airbender – the element of freedom – and having such little space to explore.

If it wasn’t because of the War, I could go wherever I wanted…

“Everything alright, Aang?”

“Yeah.” Although I am feeling bad after having… ‘bad thoughts’ again. “Let’s head back.”

We use the road we crafted over the snow to get to this point. When we get back to the camp, Katara gives me a kiss on the cheek!

Awesome!

 

Zuko

“So, what is it that you need Gyatso’s help with?” Sokka chews on the last piece of Papza Mogu[1]  that we grabbed from lunch’s leftovers. (He asked around if anybody had seen Aang and Katara for them to come with us to the training area, but everyone said they went sledding.)

The knowledge of Aang and his ginourmous crush on Katara going with her on a sledding race stings me with bother, however in a considerably minor way. Perhaps I already got used to… this. Whatever it is that we have going as a group.

On the other hand… I am more bothered for not seeing Katara and… at the same time… recognizing it isn’t the best idea for me to see her right now.

“Do you ever feel like you have no purpose?” I ask as our steps dig into the snow.

“Nope.”

“Don’t you ever feel lost?”

“Nope.”

“You are a very… simple person, right?”

“I’m a man of science,” he states, chewing the last mouthful.  “Everything has an explanation, and usually it is an easier one than what… overemotional people think.”

That’s rough, I want to say, but I rather not argue with him since he is the one making sure I don’t drown in my own patheticness and die.

Gyatso is meditating in the training area when we arrive. (We were told he has been here since this morning, but he doesn’t look affected by the climate. His skin looks more jovial than if it was in warm weather.) (Wonder if Sokka’s science can explain that.)

“Boys,” he greets us, opening his eyes, “Good morning. Or should I say afternoon? I thought you were sick, Zuko.”

“Felt better.”

Sokka’s eyes wander around the Southern Labyrinth’s ruins; they haven’t changed since we broke in the first time only that now they have a nostalgic allure to them. The spiritual energy’s vibrancy remains deep-seated in the plants and the rocks, but their colors are worn down like the ones of an old picture. Just another reminder of how much we – me, myself; and this place – have changed.

“Being here brings back some memories,” Sokka evokes.

“Yeah, ones of near-death experiences.”

His answer is side-eyeing me crossly.

“What happened to your lip?”

He and I freeze at Gyatso’s question – and exchange a look upon our synchronized (yet completely unmatching) replies:

“I fell.”

“Hawky scratched him.”

Sokka unifies them: “He fell and Hawky scratched him.”

“Yeah. That.”

“We might have to put him in quarantine for aviar flu.”

And right when I think he doesn’t hate me!

“Mm-hmmm.” (We convinced Gyatso, right? He isn’t a mind-reader to know every time we lie.) (Right?) “Be more careful with Hawky and… the ground next time.”

Sokka cackles. I don’t, “Funny, old man.”

“An old man that needs a good laugh from time to time. And, while I’m glad you’re feeling better, it’s a bit late for your training today.”

“Actually, I came because I need your help with something. It is… um… Avatar stuff. I sort of need a little hindsight on certain things.”

“I see,” he mutters, “Sokka, do you mind leaving us alone for this?”

“No probs. You know these spirit-y things aren’t my thing.”

“Cynic,” I murmur.

“Idiot,” he fist-bumps me on the shoulder on his way out.

“You seem to be getting along better with your friends, Zuko,” Gyatso notes once Sokka leaves.

Katara’s face forms in my head, glowing.

Not with all of them, I think.

“Gyatso…” I mimic his sitting posture on the stage “is it really bad to have selfish motivations at times?”

His eyes size me fast, but curiously. I can’t help the feeling that he didn’t mean for me to notice it. “I suppose that depends on whether they motivate you enough to achieve your goals.”

“And how can you tell what are your goals?”

How do you know where to go when you are aimless? That is how I got here – this era, this village. No direction, just impulses. Innate instincts that told me to fight. Whoever, whatever. Just fight.

“I can’t answer that for you, Zuko. It depends on the individual.”

“That doesn’t help me.”

“Mind if I ask what prompts these questions?”

One of my shoulders lifts. “Curiosity.”

“I think a more ‘curiosity-worthy’ question would be: why would someone believe their motivations selfish? Usually, people believe they are always right.”

Yeah… “Not everyone is like that.”

“Self-awareness,” he mouths with admiration. “What a splendid quality.”

I roll my eyes.

“Do you mind if we continue this talk while I water the plants?” he asks, pulling out a watering can from the edge of the platform. “Alpine azaleas[2] are common to grow in this zone. I want to ensure the best care for them so I can admire them in Spring.”

“Um, sure.”

We stand up and Gyatso proceeds to water the few, handprint-length pieces of land where the snow has long melted; humming a cheery tune that I don’t recognize.

“Do you know what azaleas mean?”

I shake my head.

“They have many meanings, but some of them are temperance and ‘Take care of yourself’. They are that much specific as flowers. You could learn a lot from them.”

“I can never tell if you are giving actual lessons or taking jabs at me.”

“As I said, an old man needs to have fun from time to time,” he remains focused on the watering. His voice is not much different than the sound of the water pouring peacefully. “But if lessons are what you want, have this one: self-doubt comes when we are actively shaping our own destiny, making decisions. The sensation it leaves is unpleasant; however, it is also a sign that stakes are growing higher around us, and we are taking action to meet them.”

“How can you tell if you are enough to meet those stakes?”

“Again, I can’t answer that, Zuko. I’m afraid my life is quite unassuming.” His eyes turn my way. “You, on the other hand, have an important destiny.”

“I have renounced to my destiny in the past,” I say before thinking much. My voice is hoarser – darker. “When the War started, my father was invading and occupying Earth Kingdom territory. He banished me because I told him to stop.”

“That must have taken a lot of courage.”

“Would you say that if I told you he tricked me in order to establish the Earth Kingdom colonies?” I throw back, nonchalantly. His eyes slash up to meet me once more. “That I am one his accomplices? That I believed all his discourse about the War being a way to share the Fire Nation’s greatness? Would you say I am courageous?”

So grave and raspy my voice lowers, that it is as though each word was a poisonous snake leaving my mouth. I can taste that poison: self-loathing. Lately, I have been nourishing from it, and pain as well, despite them leaving a rancid, bloody taste in my mouth.

I stand before Gyatso’s gaze with my arms casually crossed over my chest, so numb that it isn’t necessary for me to fake indifference; this guilt… it deadens me. It eats me alive, threatening to leave no trace of the real me. And I can’t afford that, because if I lose myself they will take over.

My father, my brother, Zhao, Fire Lord Ozai’s unknown voice; I can hear them… always. They are trying to smother my voice, erase my own shadow. I can’t fight them by myself.

Hate me, I think at Gyatso, looking him in the eye. Hate me! Make me earn forgiveness. Tell me I can be forgiven.

He resumes the watering. “Oh, but I thought you were so sure you were a fighter...”

My own words shatter my current thoughts as if they were made of crystal. ‘So much for not being a fighter.’

I step away from Gyatso. (How did he know I said…) (Why…)

“Since you are always so ready to throw yourself to the danger.”

(Oh.)

“May I ask what made you pursue your path as an Avatar?” he inquires. “Having woken up a hundred years into the future… you could have proclaimed your time as the Avatar has finalized.”

‘It is my destiny’.

Yet, before I can pronounce that answer, Katara’s face appears inside my head yet again, smiling. In the Southern Water Tribe. With Sokka next to her; he is smiling, too. Their grandmother, the mothers and children that received me. They are all in a newly reconstructed village; happy, safe. I see the Southern Air Temple, Aang performing some of his airbending tricks and floating over the hallways. Air Nomads walking across them, sunlight coming in.

“I assume from your expression that it has little to do with your past self.”

I blink. Then frown. My hand involuntarily goes to my scarred eye. “You don’t know who I was before.”

“I know change is always welcome,” he replies, cheerily. “And so far you are on a good path towards it.”

“How can you tell?”

“Take a guess on my age.”

 I shrug. “Ninety?”

“A hundred eight years old,” he says. “I was a child when the Air Temples were attacked, I’m one of the original survivors. How do you think I knew the names of the ancient monks in order to adopt one?”

Why is it that every time I think the weirdest thing has happened, something weirder happens? And I suppose I shouldn’t talk much in matters of age considering I am a hundred eighteen years old, but… Seriously, what is going on?

“I have seen many things – and people – change throughout the years,” he goes on. “I see no reason for you to be an exception. Meanwhile, promise me you’ll follow the azaleas advice and be careful. All hatred darkens our hearts, even the one we hold against ourselves.”

Hawky flies to us. (I let him out of his cage this morning for him to exercise.)

Gyatso nods towards him. “You should put him back in his cage, and go rest some more. I would hate that your sickness came back.”

 

***

 

“Hawky, you think I am a good Avatar?”

He follows my path as we exit the forest and enter the village, he screeches after my question.

“Thank you!” I smile. “You don’t say it only because I am the one who feeds you, right?

He soars in silence.

I glare at him. “Answer the question.”

Aang and Sokka pass in a flash once I get to the end of the forest, riding Aang’s slider downhill. “Hi, Zuko! Bye, Zuko!”

What –

“Zuko.”

My head spins to Katara’s voice. She is walking my way with Momo in her arms, her boots plow the snow. If she wasn’t meeting my eyes so confidently, I would say she was braking her steps, keeping herself away from me. Her skin is more dewy than usual, her hair darker, her clothes a more vibrant blue. Or maybe she has always looked this way and it is only now that I can see it better.

I don’t know. I don’t know anything about whatever is this I feel for Katara. (And why did I have to feel feelings?)

Momo and Hawky jeer at each other and start brawling and clawing around my head!

“Momo!”

“Hawky!”

Katara embraces Momo again and I grab Hawky. “Guess Momo is still angry that Hawky got to ride with us last night.”

Against my own will, I half-laugh. “Yeah.”

Hawky keeps on trying to take Momo out, squawking and pecking. Momo squeaks. (And here I was, thinking Sokka’s voice was annoying!)

“You two fly off into the forest and be friends or something!” I command them, letting go.

“Whoa. You, encouraging friendships?” Katara comments as they soar. “I can finally say I have seen everything.”

“I am good at friendships.”

“Sure, it only takes you… what? Around two or three name-callings?” she smirks. “Maybe a little asshole-ness?”

Still losing track of my senses, I smirk back. “You are never letting me live that down, are you?”

Her smile broadens. “Of course! One day. Just not today.”

“Funny – not.” (But I… I like the implication that she will be sticking around for longer.)

We stay in silence staring at nothing at all, it is reminiscing of when we first met. And remembering makes more of the strange feelings shake awake.

“I was meaning to talk to you,” I say after the pause. “About what we talked last night.”

“Oh… That.”

We return to the silence. (I really am awful at friendships, ain’t I?)

“You know, maybe this isn’t the best place to talk about this,” she notes, looking around, probably waiting for Aang and Sokka to rush back. “You want to go talk to my tent?”

 

***

 

Katara

There is something funny in the reverse roles: Zuko and I meeting in my tent instead of his, me being the one holding the entrance open for him. It is special in its own seemingly small way. But it is outweighed by… the rest. Us.

He takes off his coat once he steps inside. “It is hot in here.”

I take off my parka, too. “It’s for the extra fur coating I put on the sides. Water Tribe Survival 101.”

I used to stitch the tents back at home, make some more layers to preserve the heat. I’m surprised my blood hasn’t sprinkled loose through my fingers with all the nips they have from all that sewing; it was exhausting. More so since… I wasn’t supposed to be the one who did it. When I began, I was still too small to carry the furs and fabrics by myself.

The cruel reality that you can’t wait for someone to help you taunts me, not in a malicious way, just reminding me of how things work. I couldn’t wait for my mom to revive nor for my family to pass the pain, I had to help them and myself. There isn’t a choice in there, only mourning, and struggles.

Maybe that is why I have become so attached to Zuko. He makes me selfish; he looks after me, he listens to me – not in a bossy way. When we talk, he cares about me

His eyes study the inside avidly. They pass over the few Water Tribe decorations, the extra fur on each corner of the place, the few illustrations of warriors and battles.

He approaches one of them, one with figures of the tribespeople hunting together. “What is this?”

“Tribal art,” I explain, stepping closer. “In the Water Tribe, we pass our stories to the younger generations with images instead of texts.”

“This has your name on it,” he notices.

It has my name. It is in Water Tribe language though. “I can’t believe you remembered that,” surprise and delight are audible in my voice.

“Of course I do,” he says, shifting to stare at me instead.

But I look down. “I’m the one who painted it.”

His eyes are wide in appreciation when I look at his face again, the corner of his mouth curled up in an impressed smile. “Didn’t know you painted.”

“I don’t get to do it often,” I brush a hair behind my ear. “You know me, I’m usually worrying over a hundred things.”

“I could help you with some of those things. So you can have more time to paint.”

I smile, although wearily, and step away. “That’s sweet, Zuko, but my burdens aren’t yours to carry.”

“Don’t call them burdens,” he says. “But now that you mention it… I, um… sorry if I made you feel bad with what I said last night. I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured. I… I apologize if I did.”

My head moves slowly from side to side. “You didn’t.”

Last night, when Zuko said… what he said… I thought there had been something wrong with me. Had it been different – (with someone else, at another time) – I would have gone along with whatever was necessary to stop the War. Or what I believed to be necessary. Then again… Zuko makes me selfish.

“I think I haven’t been a very good friend,” I admit, my head low. (What happened made me think about a lot of things I hadn’t before, how fast my feelings for Zuko were growing.) (And yes, I said it! I have… had… whatever… feelings for Zuko.) “I guess I have been pushy at times.”

“That is not true.”

“It’s just… we don’t know much about each other. Still. Despite everything.”

His hand goes to his face. I take a step forward, catching it, and looking up at him in the eye.

“That’s not what I meant.” It wasn’t my intention to come so close, I don’t notice until my chest hits against his with each of my breaths.

Seeing him this close, the flesh of his scar is very loose, it forms deep skin folds. His eyelid is slightly down. I wonder when did I start seeing it as such a natural part of him; the healthy side and the scarred side blend perfectly.

“You think I look like him?”

(It’s not necessary to ask who ‘him’ is.) “No,” I say, “I was thinking this before, too, but your features are different. Especially up close.”

His eyes shine again with more of those gleaming thoughts I saw last night.

I step back. “Sokka told me he talked to you about our family earlier.”

For a moment, he looks simply stunned. Memory, realization, and soberness return consciousness to him. His mouth opens but no sound comes out.

My gaze falls. “It is complicated, right?” I look at him yet again. “Us?”

It takes him a while… but he nods.

“I want to be a better friend,” I decide, repressing the need to emphasize ‘Just friends’.  “And I think it will take some time for me to get used to…” (this, the Fire Lord, you) “that.”

Zuko’s voice is a murmur. A gentle, honest one: “I understand.”

“I… um… should probably leave,” he says afterward. I also resist the urge to tell him he doesn’t have to.

Momo and Hawky come inside the tent by themselves.

“Guys!” Momo jumps to my arms again. “Did you become friends already?”

They growl at each other.

“I don’t think they did,” Zuko deduces. Hawky squirms closer to him on his arms. “Hawky, stop that, it is embarrassing.”

“I thought you liked animals.”

“I like animals, just not the ones that are this clingy.”

“So then you liked stuffed animals? That’s adorable!”

He smirks at my bad joke. “Anyway, we should leave now. I… I am glad that we talked, Katara.”

Me too.

 

***

 

Zuko

I don’t remember falling asleep that night, I only remember the fire and the eyes staring at me through unnaturally huge blazes. Eyes of devils, pointy and inhuman, colored like the fire itself. My throat is stacked with smoke. Coughing turns it denser, heavier. It is asphyxiating me. Cruel laughs get to my ears, they belong to familiar voices that I feel the urge to ask for help. But they won’t help me, they are trying to crush me. Eradicate me. Just like they did to all the rest of the world. They are…

Suddenly, the fire stops. The voices quiet. Pure air fills my lungs.

Everything vanishes and darkens into plain, stiff nothingness. A black space that appears infinite but feels confined. It isn’t the Air Temple, yet Kyoshi’s statue is here, facing me in what would look like a judgmental stance had it been alive.

From the corner of my eye, I catch something approaching. An animal. A goat-like creature with black fur and a single horn. The Xiehzi[3], the spirit of truth. Its hooves click over the ground in slow steps.

It circles me and Kyoshi’s statue warily, studying us. I follow its moves carefully, fearful.

We are being judged.

It ultimately signals Kyoshi, stabbing its horn into her statue. Rupturing it.

Guilty.’

I wake up with a start. “Kyoshi!”

Notes:

Trivia:

[1] Papza Mogu: A dough shaped into balls with melted butter, brown sugar, and dry curd cheese. Part of Tibetan cuisine.
[2] Alpine azalea: A precious plant that grows in the Tibetan Plateau. In the general language of flowers, azaleas mean ‘Remember your home with fondness’, ‘Take care of yourself’, temperance, delicate passion, elegance, and wealth.
[3] Xiehzi: A mythical Chinese creature resembling a goat with black fur and a single, unicorn-like horn. Knowledgeable in human nature, it could distinguish truth from lies and good from evil. It judged individuals in conflicts or disputes by pointing with its horn to the treacherous or guilty party.

Chapter 28: Chapter 二十七: No past, no future

Notes:

Hope you'll like it! 💖💋 Follow me on Tumblr to see more of my writing: heavensweetheart.tumblr.com

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Gyatso

I have told myself this before: Children are a blessing.

It doesn’t matter at what time they storm in, hysterical: “Gyatso!”

What?” Pillows shoot from my bed when I sprung up, hitting the statuettes around it.

“I had a dream with Kyoshi!”

Oh, how fondly do I remember the times when Aang was a baby! (He hadn’t been able to walk or talk, Zuko can.)

 “Zuko…” I pinch the bridge of my nose, the reality of the situation takes form messily slow. I know have to think of an answer that won’t alter him while also telling him to wait to solve this in the morning. (Remember: Children are a blessing.)

“It was a vision! She’s trying to tell me something!”

There is an incessant ‘No, no, no’ chant coming from outside. All the kids – Aang, Katara, and Sokka – are in their sleeping clothes and blankets wrapped around them, their faces long and sleepy. Sokka is the one repeating such a depressing carol, his face between his hands and his head shaking back and forth.

“I’m telling you this is important!” Zuko’s fists light up due to the emphasis.

I have to admire his contact with his native element.

Sokka’s hands slide down, stretching his face. “Okay, your Avatarness. You say this is important, I believe you. But what do you want us to do about it?”

“We have to go to the Air Temple. I have to see Kyoshi’s statue. She talked to me when we were there.”

“The statue talked to you?”

“No! – Yes.” Zuko growls. “I know I heard her voice when we were there, what I don’t know is what she said to me.”

“Then how do you know she talked to you?”

“I just know!

“Solid case, bro.”

Aang rubs his eyes. (He looks so much younger, more of those fond memories make me smile.) “I don’t know, guys. Something awful always happens to us whenever we escap–”

Katara’s hand bolts to seal his mouth shut. Four pair of young eyes grow.

“Mm-hmmm…” (Kids these days. They think they can fool anyone.) “It wouldn’t be escaping if you had my permission,” I state.

“That’s why I came to wake you up.” Zuko’s eyes shift from alarm to anticipation. “Otherwise, I would have let you sleep and we would have just escaped agai–”

Sokka is the one to keep him from ‘spilling the beans’ on them.

I sigh, containing a headache again. Children are a blessing.

I have exactly four blessings to keep in check and safe. And ensure they don’t make a mess on their own.

“Alright. You have my permission.”

“Seriously?” Sokka’s face is emphatically confused. It’s easier to read than Zuko’s considering Sokka’s hand remains over his mouth.

But,” I add, “I am accompanying you.”

None of them answers.

“In fact, Aang, Zuko, and I will be the ones to go. Katara, Sokka; you stay here at the camp.”

The kids stay biddable, although I assume they’re only quiet. Standing compliant and relaxed despite the cold of the night, yet there is a visible, offended and defiant frown on Sokka’s face; fear dilutes the color of Katara’s eyes, Aang’s are a mixture of confusion and excitement, and Zuko’s… there is a determination in him focused on a remote target. It is idealism and rebelliousness.

The last trait lets itself be known when he tries to argue through Sokka’s lingering impediment: “We could go alone…”

“No.”

“Do the three of you really have to go?” Katara finally lets go of Aang to come implore in front of me. Sokka releases Zuko, too. “What if something happens and we can’t reach you?”

The fear in her is more accurately described as apprehension, a tense one that makes her bristle in forced composure. It virtually erases the blue from her eyes.

A moment of shortfall overpowers me; no matter how much I try to convince myself it isn’t much different to parent a girl from parenting a boy, it nevertheless does feel different. I struggle to decipher how Katara perceives me, or if I am even a reliable figure for her. Should I ask one of the Air Nomad nuns for advice?  

At least I am sincere when I say: “Katara, my main concern is to keep all of you safe.”

A gust of wind blows and the kids tremble. Tenderness fills my heart. It isn’t the accustomed one I feel towards Aang alone, yet it is present. In this instant, these are my children.

I have to keep them safe.

“We will go since we are the three most experienced benders,” I explicate further, “We have more chances of defending ourselves.”

Dark shades of disappointment cross Katara’s face despite her nod.

Her apprehension lingers while we ready Appa and Druk for the ride. Hawky surprised Zuko with his insistence to accompany us, and Momo did the same by climbing to Aang’s head.

The two loyal pets gave each other a spirited hiss before clinging lovingly to their respective owners.

“Awww!” Aang coos. “They are jealous! That’s cute!”

“It wouldn’t be if they were the same size as Appa and Druk,” Zuko points out.

Druk glances at Zuko with a frown, right before turning around in a huff.

“Druk, come on! You know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“It’s okay, Zuko, you can ride on Appa, too.”

Appa himself crawls closer to give Zuko a long, affectionate lick.

Druk spins back around for goading Zuko away from Appa, growling at the latter.

“Everybody wants to put their hands on Zuko,” Sokka jokes.

Katara hugs Aang farewell as we mount our rides. “Take lots of care, Aang.”

His smile is radiant.

She turns to Zuko once she lets go. “You, too, Zuko.”

The way he catches her in a hug is out of pure instinct, surprised when she threw her arms around his neck. It is noticeable how, little by little, his face changes from startled to a small, softhearted smile.

I feel another smile forming on my own face.

Katara waves us goodbye while Sokka only watches us exit. Hawky and Momo fly on their own close to Appa and Druk.

The Air Temple hasn’t changed, it is abandoned and, by all means, dead and frozen. Memories of just as much of a frozen culture float in a ghostly manner. Ghosts of people that I knew and cared for, friends I never got to see grow up. The snow accentuates that empty aura – the one of a cemetery. Or rather, the one of the very inside of a crypt.  

Despite it, Aang, of course, beams at the sight of the entrance. “C’mon, guys!”

He brings life back to it.

 

 

Zuko

Aang, Hawky, and Momo inspect Kyoshi’s sculpture in the hall of statues – the last two standing one on each shoulder while Aang peeks his head from behind her back.

“Zuko, no matter how long I look at it, it’s just a simple statue. I can’t even feel spiritual energy coming from it.”

“I’m telling you it talked to me last time we came!” I argue.

“And we believe you,” Gyatso appeases me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Only that perhaps this isn’t the most effective method to contact her spirit anymore.”

“How do you say it was that she talked to you?”

That’s the problem, I don’t remember how she talked to me. Whenever I return to that moment, something obscures my eyes, there’s a lapse in there. “I… I was walking in front of her – the statue, I mean. Katara and Sokka said I stared at it for a while. And after that… I knew her name all of a sudden.”

“She only told you her name? Nothing else?”

“I don’t know what she told me!”

“Maybe Kyoshi communicates with you via your subconscious,” Aang deduces. “That’s why you can remember so much while you’re awake.”

“And how do we fix that?”

He shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to sleep.”

 

***

 

“Am I asleep yet?”

It’s admirable the way Sokka manages to put so much killer instinct in a single word: “No.”

“Am I asleep yet?”

“No.”

“Am I asleep yet?”

“Oh, I’ll put you to sleep.” I hear the dull sound of his club hitting his palm.

My eyes open glaring at him. “You’re the one that said ‘let’s keep an eye on him’.”

When we returned to the village, Aang went on explaining how I needed to sleep to grasp more messages from Kyoshi and figure out whatever she is trying to tell me. Sokka said something about me becoming ‘possessed’ while I was asleep, so he, Aang, and Katara agreed to keep up guards on me to make sure I didn’t get into the Avatar State and broke the mountains.

“How was I supposed to know that you were sleep-annoying instead of sleep-walking?”

“I told you to not fight while Aang is asleep,” Katara keeps on lulling Aang’s already sleeping body.

“This is my tent,” I emphasize. (And they all invited themselves to sleep here!)

“And that’s the only reason why we aren’t kicking you out,” Sokka counters.

“Okay, it’s time to change guards,” Katara stands and walks over to my sleeping mat.

She’s still in her sleeping clothes – her undergarments. Of course.

She kneels beside me. “What?”

“Nothing,” I rip my eyes away from her. (I… I wasn’t staring.) (I just… I just…)

Thank Spirits it is night and nobody can see me blushing!

“Hope you aren’t disappointed that it’s my turn to guard you,” Katara teases.

“Of course not.” My eyes inevitably follow the weak ray of moonlight illuminating her clavicle; a spark of… something… ignites within me. “If anything, I’m glad, since insufferableness isn’t the one that’s genetic.”

“I heard that!” Sokka complains from his mat.

Katara and I grimace at him. I lay down once again.

“Am I asleep yet?”

“No.”

I growl. “Perfect! I can’t even do this right!”

She makes a face. “Mmmmmm…”

“What is it?”

Her expression lingers for a long moment before answering, “I know it’s not my place, but… for what you have told me… pressuring yourself has… never worked… especially for… uh… Avatar stuff.”

“I’m not pressuring myself.” Despite being so antsy that my hand is springing and shaking. Katara puts hers over it to stop.

“Maybe if you think about something you enjoy to relax,” she suggests. “Say… what do you like to do for fun?”

“Nothing.”

Her face falls. The next question starts with a long sigh: “Okay… Is there anything you remotely enjoy doing?”

I enjoy talking to you.

“Reading,” I say instead. “And feeding turtleducks.”

She’s quick to – poorly – hide her pert little smile.

“You say ‘Awww’ and Spirits help me…” I warn her.

“But it is worth an Awww!” she disputes, still smiling, her eyes twinkling, “You are adorable.”

“Excuse me, I’m the Prince of the Fire Nation. Or at least I used to be. I’m kind of a scary guy.”

“Not to me.”

She lies down next to me – if it is for emphasizing her point, I don’t know – comfortable, content. The natural amused sparkle of her eyes is enough to distinguish them in the dark.  

A smile lifts the corner of my own mouth. I roll to my side and face her.

“So you like reading…” she starts, pensively.

And feeding turtleducks, don’t forget that part,” my voice is lighthearted – so much it surprises me – “They are things I used to do with my mom.”

“Oh,” she murmurs. “Sounds lovely. Your mom sounds lovely, I mean. I used to sew with my mom, she’s the one that taught me. She also taught me how to cook, make tribal jewelry…”

My eyes go to her throat once her hand reaches the pendant of her necklace. The way she holds it is a particular one, her fingers circle it in the closest thing to an embrace. A sudden need to comfort her make my palms itch, but… It is really not my place, I shouldn’t disturb her.

“Your mom sounds lovely, too,” I whisper.

“Thanks... She was the best.”

Her eyes grow heavy shortly after that.

I watch their moonlight-blue disappear after every blink, counting them. Sleep carries me away bit by bit…

I dream of a big city.

It splits in two halves at its centers, flames arise from the breach. A pair of eyes appear in front of me – the demonic eyes I recognize from unwanted memories. They transform into the Xiezhi’s, along with its horn. It charges against me. There’s the pain of a stab, coursing heat of blood.

When I scream, my voice is the one of a woman’s.

I wake up with a cutting gasp. Fear, betrayal, and guilt – they are foreign, second-handed – intermix with mine. The need to escape from them makes me antsier than I was, I want… I need to feel like myself again! This isn’t me. Avalanches of distant, unknown thoughts flood my head crushingly!

‘Kyoshi, stop this!’

“Zuko? Are you okay?”

My eyes dart and skim over the outline of Katara’s silhouette. Her marked waist, pronounced curves. The moonlight-blue of her eyes is the same shade as the one outside spreading through midnight; they have that same ghostly light that exists on its own.

Wonder strikes me hard looking into them. I feel myself attracted to that ethereal light. Her breath crashes against my mouth, reminding me she is human… she is present…

She relaxes me… makes me hyperaware...   

She is beautiful

I stand up and away from her before doing something either of us might regret.

I’m panting, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

***

 

No, I wasn’t effing fine, and that is only obvious the next morning!

Breakfast consists of the four of us lying flat on our backs at the dining area, looking at the sky, getting annoyed at the sunlight, and taking turns to groan in unison and then in disarray.

Make that ‘the three of us’ – Sokka, Aang (because he claims he didn’t enough sleep for someone that’s still growing), and me – Katara is helping prepare breakfast and showing everyone there is one normal person in our group while the rest of us embarrass her in public.

(It’s not intentional, we are… exhausted.)

“How is it that she’s so cheery?”

“She’s one of those people that can face everything with a smile.”

Gyatso comes to greet us. Or something like that. “Kids, you look horrible.”

“Thank you,” I say dryly – and too far gone to care if it sounds honest.

Someone spend the night trying to put up a séance,” Sokka says.

“I’m telling you what happened was real.” (Great, tiredness took away my screaming.) “I had Kyoshi’s memories, memories of… something.”

“Eloquent till the end.”

“Don’t fight,” Gyatso reprimands us, with that kind of hard tone that makes you just about to protest, but ultimately stay quiet.

Katara comes over to our spot with another bowl. “C’mon, boys. I made you a special salad today for cheering you up.”

“You know what would cheer me up?” Sokka asks in overexcitement. Rhetorically so. “Seal jerky. I. Want. Seal. Jerky!”

Aang gags. “Puaj! Seal jerky.”

“When we get to the North Pole, I’ll get you seal jerky, Sokka,” I declare.

“You’re gonna need a whole lot more than that to compensate for messing up my ‘beauty sleep schedule’. You know I hate eye bags!”

Maybe I should take off his idea from last night and put him to sleep.

“Don’t be like that, Sokka,” Katara tells him, “Check it, I put cloudberries[1] in the salad in case you felt homesick.”

“Katara…” he says her name slowly “… when have I ever eaten a salad?”

Gyatso intervenes again as she offers and serves his plate, “You should be more appreciative of your sister, Sokka.”

“What are you talking about? Of course I appreciate my lil' Kitten!”

I almost choke on the berries. “Ki...tten?

“Sokka...” she glares “... Don't.”

He still tells me: “It’s the nickname I put her when we were little. I wanted to say she was grumpy as a cat, but she's tiny and funny-looking, so she is a kitten.”

“Stop it,” she blurts his way.

I have to cover my mouth before Katara assassinates me. I can’t believe I am laughing… or close to it. It feels so… genuine. (Is this what Katara feels whenever she gets the upper hand to tease me?)

“Don’t even think about it,” she points a reproving finger at me.

“But…”

“You say it once and Spirits help me…”

“Oh, but it is so adorable…”

She glares at the recall of our exchange from last night, the corner of her mouth curling up. “I hate you right now.”

Relief warms in a comforting way, makes my smile – as small and wounded as it is – more pronounced. “No, you don’t.”

She doesn’t hate me.

Whoa, it is weird to sound so sure!

Suddenly our eyes widen. Our heads turn slowly to one side. Gyatso, Sokka, and Aang are watching us intently, Sokka eating the berries from the salad like they were popcorn.

“Go on…”

Katara and I turn away.

Agni, what… what is wrong with me? Katara wants us to be friends!

(But we were acting like friends, right? It is normal for friends to talk like that.) (Right?) (Right?)

I’m losing my mind. And why do I need to punch myself? Stupid!

“Kids, you should go packing once we finish breakfast,” Gyatso says, finishing the salad Katara prepared. “We are going camping.”

Aang’s eyes light up, “Camping? Where?”

“The Huànxiàng hú[2], the lake.”

Aang’s jaw drops. “The Lake of Reincarnations?”

“There is a Lake of Reincarnations?” Sokka’s typical skepticism is evident and Katara gives him a scolding glare before he can proceed.

Gyatso nods. “It is the lake where spiritual beings go to seek guidance through visions. It sounds appropriate for Zuko’s current problem.”

“But I’m not a spiritual being.” In any way, shape, or form. If I was, I would get in contact with Kyoshi’s spirit by myself and save us all the trouble.

I am the trouble.

“We don’t lose anything with trying, and like the name says, the lake is meant to be a window to the past and the future. Those can reveal lots of messages.”

We end up following his plan and packing up after eating, as little luggage as we’ll need to spend the day at the lake and return to the village tomorrow morning. Gyatso is also the one that rides Appa and guides the way to the lake. It’s hard to tell what I was expecting after hearing the name ‘Lake of Reincarnations’, but… It’s hard not to gasp once we get there.

The Huànxiàng hú is circled by mountains, four of them that shape a slope and the water lays unnervingly inert at the bottom – a vertical cave digging itself to the center of the earth. The lake itself is oval-shaped, mirror-like, so clear I keep seeing an actual window when I look at it, a window to another dimension, one where the sky is the same but the clouds are upside down.

Druk and Appa to stay at the peaks while we work our way down – Momo and Hawky following in tow.

It is warmer around the waters. Hot, humid.

“It looks like a normal lake to me,” Sokka asserts when he looks at his reflection in the waters.

Katara and Aang come closer, studying their intrigued faces next to Sokka’s unimpressed one. I make a place for myself between them, all their movements are replicated on the surface. Not mine though. My reflection doesn’t show. The lake shows my friends’ eyes bugging out staring at a seemingly empty space.

“Not to me.”

 

***

 

No matter how long I meditate, I can’t get in contact with the spiritual energy – and it’s not that I can’t tell something about this lake is… unusual? I… I can feel it.

Simmering, buzzing under my skin.

It is a sensation, not something I can control. The same way I can’t control my blood flowing through my veins, the energy reaches that level of deep-rooted in me…

“How is it going down here?” Gyatso slides down the side of one of the mounts. The one in the east, behind my back.

“Not good,” I growl with an annoyed frown. “Can we go home now?”

At least there I’m closer to a place that actually reminds me of Kyoshi.  

“Hey, you called the village ‘home’!” he observes, brightening and sitting next to me.

I did? “I… I meant…”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“It’s not that.”

“So you aren’t embarrassed to call the village your home…” he muses.

“Do you have to make everything sound sappy?”

“Life is too short to make it unlovable.”

Says the guy that is hundred-eight years old.

“I take it that you haven’t mastered the art of meditation yet,” he changes his focus to the real problem here.

No,” I growl again. And then once again while screaming to the skies like a lunatic: “Why am I so bad at this?”

“You are barely starting your Avatar training, it is unfair to qualify you as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ at this point.”

“Oh, but I’m bad at a whole lot of things.”

I stand up, trying to release the anger by moving. Here is the instinct to… do something – anything, anything that makes me… feel, that distracts me – again.

Gyatso follows me. “Like what?”

“Apparently, at being a deadly assassin. Or at least a murderous machine. At being a mindless pawn, a worthy successor, at taking my own decisions because I always take the wrong one! I’m bad at defending myself! I’m bad at not being weak! I’m bad at bending, for Spirit’s sake!”

“Your bending is perfect.”

“It wasn’t always like that; I’m a slow learner, okay?” There’s some unnecessary bitterness in that last part which I don’t want to analyze. “Point is I am bad. Even at getting my brain washed because I’m stupid enough to break out from that.”

“Is it bad to break free from brainwashing?”

“It isn’t easy,” I admit. My voice becomes a whisper that unties itself – and my very self – from the screams. “It isn’t safe. You have to unlearn and relearn many things. And you have to do it on your own, you have to grow and keep yourself on your feet. You have to fight all the time, to not turn back and keep moving forward. And it hurts… It hurts knowing you’ve hurt the world, too.”

The wind blows, none of us react.

“Would you happier if you didn’t feel that way?”

“No.”

That wouldn’t me. I… I like this person that I am now. As afraid as I am of transforming into family.

I knew who I was when I was banished.

Gyatso’s tone is cautious, “Zuko, your father…”

“He wasn’t evil.” (Why am I defending him?) “He wasn’t… always evil. When I was little, he cared for me. He loved me, he thought I was a worthy heir… But then I was announced as the Avatar and… he changed.”

Another gust of wind blows, dissimilar to the boiling tears in my eyes.

“None of what happened was your fault.”

“But I didn’t protect anyone.” My voice turns throatier, deeper. And shaky at the same time. “I didn’t save anyone, anything. Not even the people I loved.”

The tears are scalding, streaming down my face. From one moment to the other, everything becomes blurry.

I nearly don’t get to see it, by the time I feel Gyatso grabbing my arm, he has already pulled me into a hug.

He is actually hugging me. My tears land on his shoulder.

“Gyatso!” Sokka shouts from the peaks. “Katara, tried to bury me in the snow with her bending!”

“That’s not true!” That was her voice.

The two of us rush uphill to see what the heck is going on, dropping the mess of a conversation we had. Still… it’s one of those times when there is an unspoken agreement that we can pretend the conversation never happened, and it is okay to pretend it didn’t because Gyatso will keep the secret.

He will.

Once we get to the top, Sokka shows off a handmade bow and a set of arrows. “Hey, Zuko! Check these out! I made them all by myself!”

Gyatso crosses his arms, “I thought you just accused your sister of trying to bury you in the snow, Sokka.”

(And he doesn’t have much snow over his parka to back that up.) “Uh…”

“I didn’t!” Katara protests. “And he wanted to use Aang as an archery target!”

“I wanted him to hold the targets so he could move them when I needed it.”

The conversation quickly becomes a dissonance of screams and accusations that Gyatso has to break. He agrees that Sokka can practice his shooting but Aang isn’t going to stand behind the targets.

I shouldn’t be surprised by now, but Sokka has impressive marksmanship. Katara, Aang, and I applaud once he hits another target – a piece of wood covered in cloth with a circle he painted himself.

He bows to us. “Thank you, thank you, gentle crowd.”

“Can I try it?” I ask.

“Sure, but don’t feel bad if you don’t hit the marks at first. It takes time to get to my level.”

I just take the bow and one arrow once he hands them to me.

Instead of going right for the targets, I take a snowball in my hand. Standing with my back turned to the targets, I throw it their way. And that’s I turn and shoot.

The arrow trespasses and disintegrates the snowball, the remnants of it rain on our faces. It’s a mere blink before the arrow gets to the target, hitting clean at its center.

I smirk. “Oh, my! And on the first try.”

All my friends’ jaws are down to the floor, though Katara and Aang’s look more like smiling.

“How did you do that?” her question is an awestruck gasp.

“I was taught Kyūjutsu[3] at the Fire Nation.”

Sokka narrows his eyes. “You actual… You know what? It’s on, your Avatarness. You just earned yourself a rival!”

“I’m shaking.” (Not really.)

“Zuko, have you noticed you sound different lately?” Aang wonders.

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. Your accent… it sounds different, some way.”

“Now that you mention it, I have also noticed it,” Gyatso notes. “You sound a lot more like… well…”

His eyes pass over our group. (I don’t know why I’m blushing…)

“They say it is a common thing to affectionately adopt the manners of the people you love.”

(And, just like that, I do know why I am blushing.)

Aang gasps excitedly, right before clinging to me, “Zuko loves us!”

“That’s not true!” I yell on instinct. It comes out more like whining.

“Opposite Day!” Katara declares before joining the hug.

“That isn’t today!” I yell again.

“That means it is!” Even Sokka joins this madness!

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Shh! Enjoy the moment, Zuko. Life is short, remember?” Of course Gyatso would say that!

 

***

 

Nightfall came soon today. And I still haven’t contacted Kyoshi’s spirit!

Oh, well. Maybe it’ll come in another dream.

Is that why I hear hooves walking outside our tent?

Their thudding is rhythmic, unhurried, growing louder – coming closer.

Katara, Aang, Sokka, and Gyatso are sound asleep around me; this could be a dream.

When I peek outside, the Xiezhi is already waiting for me. (It isn’t a scary creature for itself.) (Save for the dark fur that makes it indistinguishable from the night sky.)

It moves to descend the mountains, I follow. It stops to drink from the Huànxiàng hú’s waters.

The overwhelming spiritual energy enlivens my blood as it did this morning. This is real, this is happening.

The Xiezhi continues drinking while I observe kneeled next to the lake. Once it finishes, it dives in.

The waters lose their clear transparency to become moving images, playing themselves one after the other. Kyoshi is in them, younger, around my age. There are two people with her: an Earth Kingdom young man and an older one dressed in Earth Kingdom high-rank military clothes. 

There is a Spirit of horrendous appearance taking away the young man. The oldest one takes Kyoshi.

Kyoshi in older years, battling that same old man. The other young man – the one taken by the Spirit – appears. With a sadistic grin, he kills the older one, trespassing his heart with his earthbending like my arrow did to the snow today.

Kyoshi as a full-grown adult at the Earth Kingdom Palace, talking to the Earth King. She declines something he is saying. However, the next scene is her teaching earthbending to his personal guards.  

Her eyes are set into mine all through her motions.

By the time she stands once more, her head is down in an embarrassed pose. The background fades, returns to common water. Her figure remains, raising her head to return my stare. Serve as my reflection.

She morphs to become my father, Sozin.

Then Fire Lord Ozai.

Finally, my true reflection. My eyes, my scar.

My hand goes to it, my fingers probe the irremediably cool skin tissue.

I go back to the top of the peaks, and hesitate… I end up waking up Hawky and Druk alone.

“Shhh!” I jump to Druk’s back.

“What are you doing?”

By now, I think a part of me is no longer surprised; meanwhile, another part of me can’t help but yelp.

Katara is standing wide-awake at Druk’s feet, looking up to me. The moment and the sight of her like that are alike to when she and Sokka busted me trying to leave the South Pole and insisted on coming with me. Yet… too much has changed. The way I see her, what she means to me. Too much for me to see the past the same way as well.

“Sorry,” I jump down to look her eye-to-eye. “I just didn’t want to wake you.”

Her eyes go to Druk – and Hawky ready to fly from his head.

Her hair is loose, minuscule rebel strands flow with the easy breeze. My eyes pass all over them, brushing the waves of her hair, memorizing this image of her: peaceful, beautiful – (there’s no word to describe Katara other than beautiful) – with eyes that shine clearer in the dark.  

“What happened?”

Don’t know why, but I almost have to laugh out of pure relief. “I… um… I had another vision. I don’t know how to explain it… I have to go see Kyoshi’s statue at the Air Temple. I need to talk to her. Face-to-face.”

“I’ll go with you.” She’s already stepping forward.

I stop her, “This is… It’s personal. She showed me some painful memories.”

“So she was passing you her memories?”

“You could say.”

A second passes and I think she’s going to persist in going with me. She moves forwarder, a nearly imperceptible step. It is enough to awaken that hyperawareness inside me…

“I’ll tell the others where you’d go.”

“Wait.” I catch her hand in some kind of reflex. Abruptly, in such a strong grip it resembles panic. Panic to let go of her.  

She stares at me straight in the eye; not surprised, her gaze is questioning in the quietest, softest way: What is going on? Why am I acting like this? And I can’t answer. Not even I know the answers.

“Thank you for trusting me,” my murmur travels in the wind towards her, “You are a good friend.”

Her skin warms up, “Thanks to you for saying that.”

I squeeze her hand in mine and… drop it.

“I’ll see you all back at the village,” I say, spurring Druk, “Tell the others to not worry.”

By the time Druk, Hawky, and I get to the Southern Air Temple, sunrise colors are imprinting themselves on the clouds. The temple is terrifying at night, a palace build on nightmares. The thunderous yet elegant echo chases my steps across the halls.

Until I finally stand in front of Kyoshi’s statue. It’s funny, how conversational the whole thing is…

“The Xiezhi showed me what you wanted to tell me. You were trying to make me stop blaming myself by saying the War was your fault.”

‘In a way, it was. I caused separation which led to vulnerability instead of union and strength.’

Her voice is just as I remember it.

Like in a one-to-one conversation, I answer out loud: “None of what happened was your fault.”

She didn’t kill Jianzhu. She didn’t know the Earth King was corrupt. She didn’t cause the political division the country suffered because of those. (And even if she had, there is no guarantee their stability would be enough to stand up to the Fire Nation.)

‘And none of what happened was your fault.’

Before the last breathe of her last word dies down, her lips move.

Her face colors, her eyes blink.

She’s in front of me; human, alive, vivid: “But knowing that doesn’t heal the blockage in your mind.”

When I blink again with startled force, she’s gone as fast as she came. Her statue is still here, but it’s just that, a statue; cold and unanimated.

‘There are things, Zuko. That you have to leave in the past.’

Notes:

Trivia:

[1] Cloudberries: A reference to Inuit cuisine, it includes berries such as cloudberries (Rubus chamaemorus) which are native to cool temperate regions, alpine and arctic tundra, and boreal forest.
[2] Huànxiàng hú: It literally means ‘Lake of Visions’. In this case, it is a fictional lake inspired by the Lhamo Latso, the lake where senior Tibetan monks of the Gelug sect go for visions to assist in the discovery of reincarnations of the Dalai Lamas. For reasons to respect the religion, I didn’t want to portray the actual sacred lake as though deviating from its original purpose.
[3] Kyūjutsu: The traditional Japanese martial art of wielding a bow, practiced by the samurai class of feudal Japan.

Chapter 29: Chapter 二十八: Phoenix

Chapter Text

Zuko

Kyoshi

She doesn’t answer.

Kyoshi

She’s gone.

Only the gray granite lingers.

A rough, dry sensation – like the rock’s dust – scratches the inside of my chest.

Until I hear a step behind my back, feel the heat approaching my nape – I skip a fire blast. It hits Kyoshi’s statue on the face, circles of black ashes stain her.

I’m not sure what comes first, if the utter anger, or the shock of seeing Zhao, Lu Ten, Iroh, and their soldiers in the temple.

“Good morning, Prince Zuko.” Zhao drops his bending stance unhurriedly. He is the one that shot. “I didn’t have you as a morning bird.”

Surprise takes over while the other emotions arrange, “How did you…”

“As military devices, my tracker hawks are trained to return for stocktaking. You shouldn’t have kept one as your personal pet.”

Hawky planes from the upper ceiling to give Zhao a piece of his mind. With his claws.

“He never liked you,” I hiss at Zhao once my hawk returns to me.

Satisfying as it is to see his forehead newly filled with scratches, thinning hair wet with intense red strings of blood… I have to get out of here. (I’m telling the group we’re making a book on ‘Escape Plans for Every Situation’.)

(I would read something like that.)

His soldiers come at me. I kick the first ones in the line and push them to the others, brushing the way open.

“Hawky, now!”

He resumes his clawing off Zhao’s face patch by patch. Same with Lu Ten’s. The two of them squeal and throw their arms in the air, hitting each other instead of Hawky in an attempt to do the opposite. (Iroh remains in his inactive performance, so…)

“Hi, Uncle!”

“Not now, Iroh!”

I physically jump over them to get to the other side of the door, (and call Hawky back before Zhao turns him into fried semi-komodo-chicken.) I find out how was it that they got to the peak of the mountain when I get to the temple’s entrance.

The sun is out, a horde of Fire Nation soldiers ride komodo-rhinos through the still blooming light into all angles of the temple’s grounds. Druk spits fire at them; some of the men throw thick ropes around him to tie him up. With a glower and a growl, I use my firebending to push them off.

“Druk, are you alright?” I jump to his back, Hawky flies over us, “We’re leaving!”

The Trio of Fire Fools gets out of the temple. Druk rises just as they exit, and we skip some more fire blasts shot to the clouds.

“You sure you want to leave the Air Nomad legacy behind, Prince Zuko?” Zhao taunts. “It’d be a shame if all trace of the culture got lost.”

What is he… No.

No!

No, no, no, no!

He is setting fire to the building!

(The komodo-rhinos also tear down the walls.) (He is destroying the temple!)

No! Kyoshi!

‘Zuko.’

I halt.

‘There are things you have to leave in the past.’

Crushing down more unwanted guilt… I turn away.

“Druk, take us back to the village.”

He heads course there.

And then we get some more fire shots!

Damn it!

Zhao had men at the feet of the mountain; they are the ones chasing us. (Damn them!)

“Druk, forget it! We can’t guide them home, turn around! I mean – ” I glance to both sides “–  left!

He does and we head course to Agni-knows-where.

Druk growls.

“I don’t have time to think it much, okay?” I yell.

Hawky screeches alerting us for more attacks, and we soar away from them as we can; it’s a long journey of unsureness and fireballs. (At least it’s nothing I’m not already used to!) There’s a river crossing the forest. Druk lands on the other side, the soldiers can’t pass.

“You brat!” They curse at me.

“We got word from Commander Zhao,” one of them says, “There’s a village formed by Air Nomads close by, all men are required.”

I don’t outwardly react. I let the dark, dark anger do the thinking for me.

(Which, in perspective, is not a very good thing.) (But I still don’t have time to think it much.)

My arms move to create a tornado that carries the soldiers into the fiercely running waters – not the komodo-rhinos; they are innocent – and then I use an airbending current to push them faster and down the river.

I think not all the men will be there; I glower while instructing Druk to fly again.

It takes us more than I would have liked – or needed – to get to the village. Zhao is already there along his army, burning the tents and caging the Air Nomads as they try to escape. Everybody is a blur of terrified figures running for their lives; panicked shrieks and wails fill what I remembered as a peaceful land. The most peaceful one on Earth, if possible.

I don’t wait for Druk to settle before extinguishing the fire. Jumping down from his back, I form a strong, nearly solid burst of condensed air. The blazes die, smoke arises.

“Prince Zuko,” Zhao’s tone is musing. Villain-y: velvety, cliché. “I didn’t think you’d arrive soon enough.”

“Get away from here,” my voice is a whisper with everything but an air of softness. It is the kind of whisper you’re afraid of hearing in the dark.

“This is all your fault, Avatar Zuko!” The Air Nomads shout at me. “You brought the Fire Nation to us!”

“I see your little charity cases are very grateful for you,” Zhao mocks.

“I said,” I click my teeth, “Go away.”

“It doesn’t matter how hard I try, I can’t figure your reasoning,” he ignores me. “You’re willing to sacrifice your legacy, your country, your people… To make yourself an enemy to the world. The other nations have hated you for the past century. And with reason, you abandoned them. And you were expelled from your country. You’re just a banished prince. No home, no allies. Your own father didn’t even want you. At this point, you’re no better than a stray dog. I almost pity you.”

He lights up his fist, “Almost.”

As soon as he shoots me, his men take the cue to attack in pack. Some of them physically, some of them with more firebending. They are a numerous group, much more than all the times we have fought. It is a real army. (Zhao probably thought he’d need them for killing the rest of the Air Nomads and finish the work from a hundred years ago.)

It’s difficult to fight outnumbered like this; they manage to strike me. With their fists, their fire. Multiple times. Several times. Eventually, the coppery taste of blood grows heavy inside my mouth.

One of the men strangles me from behind while some others try to further immobilize me.

“Everybody get out of here!” I tell the Air Nomads. (At the very least, the Trio of Fire Fools seems to have shifted their focus to me.)

I kick, spin, and push the oafs off me. Make the idiot trying to asphyxiate me hit his head against a tree.

Burns and bruises all over my body begin to swell. I fall against the log as well, trying to regain air.

“Tired already?” An all too familiar, unwelcome voice appears near my ear. “Your time with the pacifists made you lose your fighting spirit?”

“Shut up,” I bark at Zhao. (Something like that.) I can’t get enough oxygen to put force in my voice.

“The most astonishing part is that you could prove you still have an ounce of loyalty left if you only stepped out of the way. Make a life for yourself somewhere else. No problems to worry about, yours or somebody else’s…”

“While you kept massacring people?”

“Well, yes.”

A beast-like hunger for justice explodes inside me, making my voice as beastly: “I would like to see you try!

I launch a saw-like blast of fire in one twirl. He skips it, but there are true surprise, commotion, and… fear in his face.

A rueful smile tugs my lips. He is forgetting I chose this, I told him I had. This – the Air Nomads, the world, my Avatarhood – are the cause I’m willing to fight for. Nobody decides for me anymore.

I serve no one

With new vigor fueled by rage, I go on attacking him. He commands more soldiers to come at me, I knock them out.

“You know, for being a Commander, you sure like to make your subordinates do the dirty work.”

He smirks unequivocally evil. “I do plenty.”

His eyes go to the Air Nomads who continue trying to escape. He shoots at them. I rush to block it, the fire flows over my arm. Sparks burn my skin, nose, and lungs. 

“It’s not very honorable to involve civilians in crossfire,” I glower. “Not that I expect you to know a thing about honor.”

“There is honor in continuing the missions of our forefathers.” He shoots at some more Nomads; I block it yet again. “And they are not ‘mere civilians’ if they should have been exterminated years ago.”

“What is it with you, Zhao? Why are you so…” I block another blast. “Why are you so obsessed with torturing everyone?”

“I must admit that I take great pleasure in torturing you.”

And that’s exactly why he keeps shooting.

“Then me. Why are you so obsessed with destroying me?”

He shrugs.

I don’t know why I bother.

Throwing a flare at his feet, I shake him off balance. Then block at shot coming from my left side, directed at my scar.

It was from Lu Ten.

We size one another from the short distance.

“I don’t want to fight you,” I tell him.

“You’ll have to.”

He firebends and I redirect it back at him. He shoots another blaze, preserving that… unfeelingness. Expressionlessness. All of this remains as protocol to him, a means to an end. Is this something I could have prevented from happening? That indoctrination? Zhao is just a racist cartoon villain, but Lu Ten… he is a product of war.

I finally throw him away with another attack, the few soldiers left charge at me. I don’t even use my bending to send them flying. After that, I send a fist-sized airbending explosion to the side of Zhao’s face still on the ground.

“You know, Zhao, there is one thing you’re right about,” I say, walking closer to him. “There’s nothing left for me to lose, nor for me to gain. I could destroy your weapons and kill your armies on a whim, without earning anything from it. How unfair that someone gets to use that much power they do not deserve.”

I watch his face deforming into a disgusted sneer. Yeah, that’s what it feels like to look at you, you jerk!

He fires pointblank at my stomach; it’s so strong it flings me to hit another tree.

Blood pools in my mouth, I cough it. 

Zhao is on his feet, coming to me, and raising a cutting attack. “Remember what I said about tempering your tongue?”

I can’t stand.

I can’t move.

A whistle sounds, “Hey, douchebag!”

Before I get to blink, one of Sokka’s hand-carved arrows inserts in Zhao’s shoulder. (Ouch!)

His howl of pain is tearing and long. Too goddamn long. Thank Agni, Gyatso uses airbending to shy him away.

“Guys,” I smile past the blood once Katara, Aang, and Sokka kneel at my sides. (Gyatso stands guarding us from more attacks.) “You came back.”

“What happened to you?” Sokka squeals. “No, wait… Don’t answer that. Better this: can you move?”

I try to. “No,” I grunt.

“Don’t force yourself,” Katara helps me lay back down.

“How did you guys know I was in trouble?”

Hawky lands next to my head.

“Hawky was the one that went to look for us,” Aang explains. “He told Momo something about Zhao and komodo-rhinos, and that you were busy and didn’t notice he left…”

“Oh, yeah,” I mutter. “Sorry, Hawky, it wasn’t my intention to leave you behind.”

“Kids, you have to get somewhere safe,” Gyatso instructs us.

“Let’s get Druk and Appa and get the hell out of here!” Sokka presses.

“We can’t leave the village alone,” I argue.

Just then, Zhao recovers enough of his composure to boss Lu Ten – who is barely getting to his feet – around: “Don’t simply stand there, message the rest of the troops! I need all men in here!”

He has more backup?

“We. Have. To. Go!” Sokka insists.

“We can’t leave everyone to their own luck,” Katara says.  

“And the option is letting some lunatic exterminate the only chance we have of stopping the War?”

“I’m not dead yet,” I shove myself up. And growl and return down.

“I told you to not force yourself,” Katara repeats. Her hand settled over mine, the one I’m keeping over my stomach in an ineffective method to deal with the pain. “Let me see,” she says.

She doesn’t wait for an answer before putting my hand down – as gently as the circumstances allow – and shoving my ashy, torn coat and shirt to discover my stomach.

Sokka cringes.

“What? Too bad?” I ask.

No,” his voice grows high-pitched in a falsely carefree, exaggerated way, “Of course not! Nothing our super nurse Katara here can’t solve… Right?”

Her eyes remain fixed on the wound I haven’t checked.

“Your clothes protected you fairly well from the fire,” she probes my abdomen, “but you’ll have a bruise all the size of your stomach. The impact was too great, it’s already turning red.”

“Awesome,” I drop my head back.

“Do you feel this?” she questions, still probing. “You aren’t dizzy, right? Can you focus? C’mon, look me in the eye.”

She leans forward, putting our faces at level with each other. I obey, looking her right in the eye. My pupils follow the blue of her irises. Today is one of the days when her eyes are fluent water currents; I can almost – almost – see them pouring. Some other days they are stabbing ice. There is no in-between. 

The earth trembles when a new pack of Fire Nation komodo-rhinos stomps to the camp.

Now we can leave?” Sokka repeats.

“It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

We all turn to the voice behind us.

“General Iroh,” Katara murmurs, a little too acquainted for addressing a Fire Nation General. Someone from Zhao’s group on top of that.

He smiles welcomingly to her but returns to seriousness in short. “If you leave, Zhao will in fact destroy this village and everyone in it.”

“Way to set us a trap, old man,” Sokka glares.

“He’s not saying it because of that, Sokka,” Katara interrupts.

“How can you tell?” I’m the one who wonders.

She looks at him once. “I just know.”

I would like to frown. I would like to be annoyed at her too-trusting nature, I would like to be angry at Iroh for helping us only behind everyone’s back, but… I’m weary. And pained. And still choking on my own blood; and hungry, and weak, and I want this to be over, all of this to be over… In a corner of my mind, I want to faint, to at least let everybody stay angry with me but know they’ll be alive for it.

“You guys have to get out of here,” I say after a pause.

Katara, ever the perceptive, realizes I’m not speaking open to discussion. “What about you?” she asks.

“I’ll be fine,” I’m panting – and choking and coughing some more because of it. “But seriously. Run.”

“Zuko.”

Katara’s voice becomes differently urgent. Concerned without intentions to stop me. I don’t know if it is that she can tell I can’t be persuaded; I am barely aware of my surroundings as of now. My breathing grows heavier as the dizziness grows stronger. Her hand caresses my face but I’m already too far gone to fully perceive it.

Kyoshi… The darkness fogs my mind. Kyoshi, help me…

 

 

Katara

It’s so strange to hold his face when he is in the Avatar State. His warmth stays human.

He is a vessel.

For nothing other than raw power alone.

It’s perceivable in how his body rises so effortlessly, after a second ago when he couldn’t get an inch from the ground; in how calm his movements are, meanwhile his eyes emit uncanny white light that provokes a burning sensation only by looking at them.

My palm grows colder immediately after it slides from his cheek.

The others stare in muted astonishment, afraid of so much as breathing in his direction. I am the one that guides them away, taking Aang and Sokka’s hands.

We herd the Air Nomads to a corner sufficiently far from the fight. General Iroh sneaks his way back to Lu Ten’s side. Zuko – his body – advances to meet the army beyond fearless. Beyond human. Strength reverberates in the atmosphere, the tremor of the rhinos’ steps thunders.

I keep on assuring the villagers everything will be okay. It’s what I did back at home, it’s what I’m good at. And yet…

If I was a complete bender… would I be able to fight, too? Stand on the same ground as Zuko when he is like this? Be worthy of the reverence in the eyes of the Fire Nation army, of everyone.

As the soldiers approach, he performs some earthbending moves, the mountain cracks.

It. Actually. Cracks.

Chapter 30: Chapter 二十九: Home

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Katara

Starting exactly one step in front of Zuko, a single fissure breaks the ground. It keeps stretching, forming some kind of crooked divisive line as if to mark what space the soldiers cannot cross.

And they surely will not cross considering Zuko is… breaking… the mountain.

He is separating it, ungluing the two gaps. I feel myself living a flashback, so detailed the recollection is, of the first day we arrived at the village; the ground quakes unnaturally furious, giving the impression it is the very planet the one that is wrecking itself.

Aang – so him – is thrilled, even while hugging a tree to keep balance, “Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Gyatso holds him close. Sokka tugs me closer, too, shielding me but not trapping me.

The soldiers soon enough realize the situation, the multitude of komodo-rhinos gathers at the edge opposite to ours, obviously fearful of taking one step in false and falling into the dark precipice Zuko created. 

When he speaks, it isn’t his voice. It is a mixture of voices; deep, strong, commanding, unreal: “Get away from here.”

I think they are the soldiers the ones that are about to faint this time around.

“Sir!”

I want to snort. (Calling Zhao?) Like their precious Commander will lift a finger to help them.

“Retreat!” he orders. “Retreat!”

Yeah. That’s what I thought.

They escape without leaving trace, except for the few rocks the rhinos kick after turning around from the cliff. Zuko waits until they are out of sight before connecting the mountain back together. Following the flashback, there isn’t any proof of something extraordinary happening. The gaps unite, the ground fixes, everything is normal.

Zuko’s body remains as if everything was, but his eyes give away what he really is: an angry god. A star constantly collapsing.

I don’t care.

The glow in his eyes is already dissolving by the time I throw my arms around him.

 

 

Zuko

I wake up in my tent, in the Southern Air Village.

For a moment, I attempt to convince myself it was a dream… but the pain is here. So are the recently applied bandages around my exposed core.

 Hawky is on the pole that used to be his cage until I took off the bars. He stretches his neck, signaling something.

Katara. She is asleep beside my sleeping mat.

Like a couple of nights ago – around when all this disaster started – I roll to stare her. I can discern her features more clearly up close, her eyes are round but not pronouncedly so. Her cheekbones are, too, her skin has the characteristic gleam and softness induced by low temperatures.

I’m not sure how long I stay obsessing over her face.

My hand reaches to her. Two of my fingers barely brush her cheek when her eyes open.

“Sorry,” I say in shock.

She smiles. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah.” I support on my hands to sit straight.

She follows my lead, “How are you feeling?”

“Pained. Tired.”

“What do you remember?”

“Everything.”

“You mean…”

“I was awake,” I admit. “The Avatar Spirit took control but my consciousness was still there. It was like seeing a play from backstage. I knew what was happening and had some control over it. I know I broke the mountain.”

“You did the right thing. They went away without anyone getting hurt.”

“Um…”

“What?”

“Some soldiers that I… kind of pushed down a river might differ from that,” I say. “And did you see the scratches on Zhao’s face? Hawky did that.”

He gives a proud screech.

Katara’s hand tries to hide a wide, impressed and wry smile. “No. Way.”

“Yes way.” I look down, and then back at her, “Weren’t you scared?”

Of me?

 

 

Katara

‘Of me?’

The question is written all over his face. Zuko is easy to read like that.

It makes me smile. People ‘like that’ are more honest in some way, or at least it’s easier to tell what they think. Or maybe I am overly trustful.

Wasn’t that why I had to put a stop on myself in matters of crushes?

Huh. Who could have thought it took actively fighting in a war for learning about introspection?

I’m almost angry at Zuko. My life was so much easier before he came into it, and that’s saying something. I remember why I wanted to get close to him when we first met, he was only a normal boy despite all things encircling him. He is a normal boy. He’s also of Fire Nation royal blood. And the Avatar.

He’s imperfect.

He’s easy to be with.

Is that something I want for myself?

My fingers drum over my thigh.

“No,” I reply to his question. “Well… yes, I guess. A little. But not for what you think. I was worried… that something might happen to you.”

That part is true. Absolutely, unequivocally. For whatever else I feel for Zuko… he is my friend.

“It’s pretty weird to worry about the Avatar when he is in the Avatar State.”

My shoulders lift. “Nobody is infallible.”

His hand caresses the new bindings around his torso, “Thanks for patching me up, by the way.”

“No need to thank me.” I pass my hands over them as well. “I know that one is kind of your line, but it is rare to find a hero in distress.”

“Hero in distress? And what does that make you? The damsel in shining armor?”

“I don’t have an armor.”

He looks down. “You would look good in one.”

My eyes widen while he avoids them. Did some Avatar stuff at the Air Temple gave him newfound confidence, or…

(Not that I’m complaining, but…)

I decide to focus on what truly matters: “Isn’t it weird that it is today when it became… real? After… the other times.”

“The other times we hadn’t fought an army. Zhao hadn’t discovered our secret hideout.”

“You think he’ll come back?”

“Probably.”

“What’s the plan for then?”

He sighs, still tired. “We’ll figure one out.”

“Along the way?” My chin rests in the palm of my hand. “Gee, I didn’t think it would feel so… élite to be included in that plan.”

“You’re hilarious,” he deadpans. “You’re also the one who insisted we are a team, remember?”

I smirk.

“We are friends. Right, Katara?”

Something breaks and blooms inside me. I see myself asking him that exact same question not too long ago.  

“Of course we are.”

A pause.

“You should get dressed and go outside. Everybody has been very worried about you.” I exit the tent.

 

 

Zuko

Like back at the South Pole – (what is it with all these memories all of a sudden?) – Katara’s waiting for me outside by the time I exit the tent.

Till a grayish mass of wind – (yes, like when we first visited the Southern Air Temple) – knocks me down in a hug. (How come someone as thin as Aang has such strong arms?)

“Zuko! You’re here! I love you!”

“Thanks, Aang…” I croak. “But my wounds… I can’t breathe.”

He lets go. “Sorry.”

For half a second before clinging back. “Five more minutes.”

My mouth curls. I put my hand on his back, “Okay.”

A bunch of young children catch glance of the fuss and they brighten nearly as much as him, “Avatar Zuko’s awake!”

They run to me, some older ones join, counting the kids that are always bullying Aang. (What were their names again?)

“Hey, wait for your turn,” Aangs frowns at them, “I’m his best friend.”

Excuse me?” Sokka’s voice screeches from above the multitude. He opens space for himself, “Sorry. The Avatar’s strategist is coming through. And last time I checked, I was his best friend.”

“Since when?” I ask.

“Since forever. I met you first.”

“By that logic, I’m his best friend,” Katara intervenes once she passes the crowd. “I saw him first.”

“Guys…” I say, “can I stand up before we keep talking about this?”

The three of them drop their… whatever that thing was. (I think they keep competing even for helping me up.)

“Thanks for saving us, Avatar Zuko,” the children cheer, “We made this for you.”

Their tiny hands raise a bracelet of orange beadings with an Air Nomad emblem to me.

“Thank you,” I roll the beadings between my fingers.

“Put it on.”

I do. The most prominent part of the bracelet is the emblem hanging from my wrist.

“Zuko.” Gyatso and the rest of the Council walk to us. The kids leave at their sight.

Gyatso hugs me, too, sighing relieved. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

This time, I do return the hug.

“We wanted to thank you personally for defending us from the Fire Nation,” Monk Pasang says. He bows. “Thanks.”

The rest of the Council of Elders bows alongside him. Tashi stays behind, and I’m tempted to ask if all of them wanted to thank me.

He ultimately does bow.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I say, bowing back. “It was an honor for me.”

“We also meant to apologize for certain things that were said during the confrontation,” Pasang goes on. He glances at Tashi in specific for adding: “There were certain tensions arising in our community that we didn’t address properly, ain’t that right, Monk Tashi?”

He scowls directly at my face before chewing out: “That’s correct.”

“It shows a poor performance on our part as spiritual and moral counselors. We’re sorry you were one of the victims who suffered because of it.”

“You don’t have to apologize either, I understand there are…” I mimic Pasang and look at Tashi “… certain resentments you rightfully hold against my nation.”

“We shouldn’t have let those resentments cloud our judgement and much less the treatment to our peers.” He gives one more apologetic nod. “We’ll relocate the village as part of our nomadic lifestyle, hopefully it will serve as a new beginning in all accounts.”

“We’re moving?” My question is more casual when I turn to Gyatso.

“For the moment, it looks like it. You kids pack up. I’ll be in a meeting with the Council until late, so dinner is in an hour. If I’m still not there by then, I saved some slices of egg custard tart and you can have dessert first only for today.”

“Thank you,” Katara, Sokka, Aang, and I say together.

He rejoins the Council. All of them give one last dark look at Monk Tashi for making him follow.

It isn’t until they get out of earshot when we cover our mouths for laughing.

“Did you see his face?”

“Dude, that guy hates you,” Sokka tells me between chuckles.

“Why does everybody hate me?”

Katara objects: “Not everybody does.”

She yanks the rest of us into a group hug. Those emotions of genuineness return, making my heart flutter.

“You boys pack up like Gyatso said, I’ll make something else for dinner so we don’t have only egg custard tart to eat.”

“I wouldn’t complain about that,” Sokka states.

“Me neither!” Aang beams.

“Healthy diet, boys,” she reminds them. “Now, go.”

She marches to the dining area, Aang and Sokka go to their respective tents. Sokka pats my shoulder.

When I get inside my tent, I pass my eyes through all the Fire Nation… ‘decoration’ there is.

I put myself in a meditation pose, closing my eyes.

Kyoshi… Kyoshi…

When I open my eyes again, she’s kneeled before me, her body made by a thin layer of incorporeal light.

“Congratulations, Zuko,” her mouth curls. “You managed to contact your past lives.”

I smirk back. “I’m glad that we can talk.”

“This means already you learnt to leave the past behind?”

I stay quiet for a few seconds. “No. My past is still there. And here with me. I only overcome it day by day, minute by minute. What I told Zhao was true, I choose who I want to be.”

Her answer waits, her face is serious, “I knew you’d say that.”

“You did?”

“We are the same person, I know everything that goes through your mind. I can hear the years of hate speeches. I can feel the exhaustion, the loneliness. The grief. As whatever consolation it serves… I, too, know what it feels like to mourn… and I know what it is like to have to keep someone you love from harming others.”

Suddenly the pain in my core turns into a clawing one. “Like that boy… the one you showed me. Yun, was it? You loved him a lot.”

“Yes. He was my best friend,” she confesses. “We both have endured similar kinds of suffering, Zuko. We lost people we loved at the hands of hate.”

The pain intensifies, mixing with fond memories for once. Memories that won’t repeat themselves because Kyoshi is right, I lost the people I shared them with. My family, my country, everything – absolutely everything – I once loved.  

Tears return to boil my eyes. But when Kyoshi puts her arms around me, I can feel her hug.

Notes:

Hope you liked it! 💋💋💖 If you'd like to see the moodboards I made for the last two chapters, see here: https://heavensweetheart.tumblr.com/post/656029029523128320/book-one-wind-chapter-29-heavensweetheart

Chapter 31: Chapter 三十: Family

Notes:

Hey, everyone!! 👋🏽😄

I'm so glad to be publishing this chapter, it gives me the chance to let you know a few things. First of all, don't worry, I'm not going to leave this AU. I like it, I'm proud of it, I enjoy writing and reading it. That gives me great satisfaction as a writer, to genuinely enjoy my own work.

This takes me to my second point, I think I'll be coming up with lots of Avatar AUs in case you'd want to stick around to see those. Lately, I don't feel like engaging with the fandom of the original series, it isn't a place where I feel safe or welcome anymore and it makes no sense that I stay close to it if it is something that is hurting me, but the worldbuilding and the characters and the possibilities for their arcs and relationships truly inspire me, so I want to make something that I'll remember fondly when I look back to my stay in this fandom.

And my third point is just that, thanks to this fic, I've been discovering lots of new things about my writing style and my tastes for writing and reading, so you'll probably see some changes from now on, but don't worry about this either, it's nothing major.

Thank you so much for following until now, it means a lot to me that so many people ended up liking this silly idea of mine 😅

I love you, you're my angels! 💋😇

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Zuko

Sometimes I think the worst has passed. And then I wake up.

“Zuko! Zuko!”

“What?” I blink for distinguishing Katara’s face through the sleepiness and the midnight’s shade.

She’s terrified, “Aang is gone!”

 

 

Aang

Sometimes I think I don’t make sense of myself. I want to travel soooooooo badly, and yet I was soooooooo bummed when Gyatso told us we are moving out tomorrow morning.

I like these mountains, I like being close to the Southern Air Temple. I guess what I like is not being forgotten. In a world where the Air Nomads still existed – or where everybody knew we do exist – I wouldn’t have to hide. I could go wherever I wanted and still have a home to return to.

Home. Do nomads have homes?

Does that go against the ‘no clinging’?

Why are there so many rules for everything? I want to be free!

Free like air!

Shots from my feet push me to the upper corners of the mountain. Momo squawks under my shirt.

“Shh! You know we’re not supposed to be here.” I shove myself to the top. “And Zhao might be lurking around.”

Zuko said Zhao destroyed the temple this morning. This morning. Just one day and it became gray broken stone and ashes. (That’s how little it takes to destroy something.) It’s like a mini-mountain made out of rubble grew at the top, something like a dumpster.

I never considered the temple dead… until now.

Momo gives another loud squawk for warning me of a coming fire shot. Oh-oh!

A couple of Fire Nation soldiers yell at each other something about spotting an Air Nomad and informing superiors.

Monkeyfeathers!

I hop down and away from the peak. The soldiers follow me with their komodo-rhinos. (They rode komodo-rhinos all the way till here? That’s animal cruelty!) I would just run, but that would make a much bigger cloud of dust behind me and they could follow me to the village again – (as long as we have one.) I might as well jump for my life!

Momo keeps squirming under my clothes, clutching my ribs with his nails; the soldiers keep ordering each other to not lose track of me – it matches the rowdy, nail-biting, murderous, scary weeks we have had lately. (When did the village become such a brassy place?)

(Oh, right, since Zuko arrived.)

Zuko…

I’m not worrying. If I get in trouble, Zuko will come save me. He will because he is the coolest hero around!

 

 

Zuko

I’ve never seen Gyatso altered. At all. He was always so composed and imperturbable. And yet, he looks like he is about to pull of his very scalp. “This doesn’t make any sense! Where would he go?”

I’m senselessly racing across the village, lifting full tents and rocks, searching a hiding spot that could fit someone Aang’s size, “Aang! Aang! Aang!”

Where would he go?

“He must have gone to the Southern Air Temple,” Sokka deduces. I am barely aware of the rest of the Nomads gathering around us, stopping their own search for Aang. The entire village woke up for this. “He loves that place.”

“The night after we were attacked by a Fire Nation army, after they destroyed the temple?” Congrats to Gyatso for looking more confused than angry. 

“You know Aang; change terrifies him.”

“He must have been sad that we were moving,” Katara reasons just as sadly. “We have to go get him.”

Gyatso stops her. “No,” his tone becomes… stern. Concretely stern. The one of a tough father making decisions for his children.

My stomach churns at the comparison. But I know Gyatso is, his motives of sincere concern.

“You three are going to stay right here,” he points straight to the ground for emphasis. “I’m serious. You have overexposed yourselves to the danger. Zuko, you are no longer far from receiving an attack you won’t be able to shake off. Katara, Sokka; you two are still inexperienced in your own skills, and after today, these mountains are no longer a safe area for anyone. You’ll only get hurt.”

The three of us yell at him – more for the sake of being common teenagers:

“We can–”

“We aren’t–”

“We won’t–”

Gyatso puts his hand in front of us. “I’m sorry, kids, but I made a decision. And you have taken some reckless ones by yourselves; whatever happens from now on is no longer your call.”

Our three mouths snap shut.

“I have to talk to the rest of the Council for arranging the evacuation of the village while I go look for Aang. I, alone. You three get dressed for leaving.” 

His steps are stiff when he walks away; they have nothing to do with the unearthly grace of an airbending High Master. His hands are balled into fists. That only talks about the tension of the situation and how we can’t stand here and do nothing.

Katara and Sokka are already looking at me when I glance at them. We run to our tents and get dressed. And then we reunite at the bison’s stables.

I prepare Hawky and Druk to depart, “Hawky, I need you to go ahead and tell me if you see signs of Aang or the Fire Nation.”

“Are we sure it is a good idea to disobey Gyatso right now?” Katara asks.

“We can’t leave our hyper-little-brother-type person to his own luck,” Sokka says.

“Hyper-little-brother-type person?” I repeat. “Couldn’t you think a shorter name?”

“Let’s make it an acronym! HLBTP!”

He makes some gestures with his hands to accentuate the ‘grandiosity’ of his idea.

“Don’t make an acronym for me.”

 

 

Aang

Somebody else yells about me when I get to the feet of the mountain, another fireball comes. I throw it away with an airbending swing, same for the rest of their attacks. They start growing in size and strength as more soldiers appear, the ones that were guarding on the ground called for backup. I split the fire currents in halves, making the flames pass around me. Momo flies out of my shirt to scratch the soldiers.

I stare at the fire, study it, the brightness blinds me a little, but I manage to cut and deflect it. After a while, it looks like the fire is growing slower. I am the one that is moving too fast. Still staring, and reacting on instinct to keep the flames from touching me. Soon, it is like the fire was turning brighter, too.

No, it is that my air currents threw it to the trees. The branches ignite and fall around us.

Zuko…

Come save me. 

 

 

Zuko

“Do you see anything?”

Katara and Sokka pass their eyes over the minuscule, dark green trees the farther we fly, closer to the temple. Sokka shakes his head.

“Nope. Nothing. Not him or Appa. How does that kid manage to hide a four-ton bison so well?”

Katara looks ahead over my shoulder. “Guys… is that smoke?”

It is. A dense, blackish cloud the same shade as the sky, climbing from the grounds beneath the mountains and covering the stars.

Appa’s roar echoes in the forest. Druk roars back and speeds without me telling him, the rest of us hang on to each other for not falling. “Whoa!

Hawky returns carrying two intermixed strands of whitish hair on his feet. One of them is short and thin, the other long and thick.

“These are Appa and Momo’s?” I ask, taking the hairs in my hand. “Did you see them?”

He hands me a small piece of branch he was carrying on his other feet. It is burnt at one tip.

I barely get to hear Katara and Sokka over my own gasp: “Oh, no!

 

 

Aang

It’s difficult to focus on putting down the fire from the branches when the soldiers keep throwing more fire. The flames are growing, circling us, and spreading across the forest.

“Stop it! We are all going to burn!” I warn them.

They don’t listen. I skip another blast.

Appa roars, I raise my head to see him trying to put out the fire with his very breath. The soldiers try to shoot him, too, I deflect the attacks to him, but the fire goes on swelling across the woods. Appa’s scared roars deafen me while the flames blind me some more.

Until I hear Hawky screeching. Hawky!

That means…

I move again to block another attack at Appa. “Appa, you have to stand back!”

He doesn’t, and I have to repeat it. And repeat it. Every time I have to jump and block simultaneous attacks from many directions.

He finally steps back, but I’m getting tired. And slower. And it’s difficult to tell which flames are being shot directly in my direction when we are already surrounded by them. The forest is painted in unnatural, literally blazing yellow.

A cough contracts my throat for the smoke. Then another.

I turn around to another fireball.    

Zuko uses airbending for gliding in front of it and redirects it with his firebending.

I knew you would come!

He tackles me deeper into the forest, away from more shots. We roll over the ground, he hisses when we stop: “Have you gone crazy!

His eyes are shining with fury; they have the same glow of the fire caging us. Though, in him, it is definitely more alluring. (Is this what a moth feels when it gets fixated with the light?) Despite the danger, and the anger, and the heat, and the cold, and the uncomfortable floor with twigs and pebbles and more, my brain is set in ‘I am so in love with you.’

 

 

Zuko

Damn this kid! Damn him for real!

Or better not, because I could get a fucking heart attack!

Agni, he fits perfectly into the little brother-type; he is a literal hell-raiser!

I would have died if something happened to him…

It’s hard to tell if the soldiers continue their shelling, the fire extended across the entrance of the forest, blazing masses impede us from seeing anything beyond them. I counted around ten troopers fighting Aang. I can’t see them anymore. That is more concerning than relieving.

Katara and Sokka make their way to us. Their bodies color in yellow, orange, and red the deeper into the forest they get.

“Aang!” Katara grabs him in a hug.

“You all came looking for me?” he asks.

I have to snap! “Of course we did, you little… little…

“Guys!” Sokka shrieks. “Fire! Escape! Now!

Appa and Momo float closer to us – too close to the flames! Their fur could light up! (Spirits, if we get out of here unharmed enough, I swear I’ll… be more positive?) (Whatever!) We hardly pass another tree when a fire blast hits the log next to our heads. The tree explodes ignited.

More soldiers emerge from the woods. From everywhere, all directions. They surround us with fists ready to strike. Lu Ten is guiding them; he materializes from the flames leading another front of soldiers.

I see their shadows as demons coming from the Underworld. The self-doubt that was keeping me back when we first met returns; I remember I come from they come, Lu Ten and I are the very same blood. Maybe that means I will forever have some of that demon blood, maybe it will take some time to get fully used to my new self, too, but the point is I have changed. I’m not nostalgic or wistful anymore, I want to fight. Protect the forest, protect our village. Not just run, I have a purpose.

Adrenaline rushes inside my veins at the realization.

“Where’s Iroh?” I ask.

He shrugs unimportantly. “I came alone. Not so much, but you get the idea.”

I count the soldiers – or what I can see of them due to fire’s overshadowing. “You didn’t bring Zhao? I thought you two wanted to share the glory of capturing the Avatar.”

“Sharing is a strong word… and a misused one in this case.”

Aang, Sokka, Katara, and I exchange a four-way look. “So you are manipulating him…”

“… while he believes he is manipulating you…” Katara continues.

“… and you are backstabbing him…” Aang keeps the chain.

“… before he backstabs you,” Sokka finishes.

Lu Ten glares at us with that annoyance only teenagers provoke. 

“Man, talking about toxic work environments,” Sokka adds. Katara, Aang, and I laugh.

“Enough!” Lu Ten screams. “I don’t have time for this! Capture the Avatar!”

“And what about us?” Sokka wonders, enclosing himself, Aang, and Katara in a gesture. “Aren’t we worth a capture?”

Aang steps up. “And wasn’t the Fire Nation planning on exterminating all Air Nomads just today?”

“That was Zhao on a whim, not me.”

Katara stands next to Aang in a supportive stance, but with autonomous, strong wrath. “What about raping women in the villages the Fire Nation invaded? Was that Zhao’s whim, too, or something the Fire Army simply does? Are you going to wash that off from your hands?”

The four of us narrow our eyes at Lu Ten, judgmental, with equal indignation at the fact that we know more about the damages and implications of war than he does. We weren’t supposed to be these people. And he knows that; I can see it in the way his eyes widen while he tries to contain it. He is looking at my face, probably trying to find some more family resemblance – on my profile that isn’t burnt.

This is what your leader did, I think at him. My hand goes to my scar for accentuating. And a little for me to get in contact with that side of myself, that memory. He did this to a teenager, his own son.

His soldier.

His subject.

These thoughts surpass the ones I was having earlier; I may come from all of that – the fire, the brutality – but why would I be loyal to it? The Fire government doesn’t even care about its own people, about anyone. Just like the Earth Kingdom during Kyoshi’s time, it is corrupted by power and forming a tyranny.

The corner of my mouth curls with pride upon comparing myself to Kyoshi… but disillusion and sadness weigh on me when I look at Lu Ten.

I do wish things were different, that they weren’t…

My eyes go to Aang, Katara, and Sokka at my sides, and the forest fire trapping us. They are my real family now. I bend the flames to attacks Lu Ten and his men before he can hurt them.

 

 

Lu Ten

From a second to the other, I go from ruminating their words over and over again – their accusations – to watching Zuko attempt to strike me. I should have known all of it was a trap.

Notes:

Side note: Isn't Aang the cutest ray of bi flag-colored sunshine?! 😍

Chapter 32: Chapter 三十一: We lied again

Chapter Text

Katara

Lu Ten slices Zuko’s fire attack, I pull the water from my vial on impulse, staring at his angry glare and the soldiers’ faces – their helmets and masks with pointy designs resembling blades and skulls. A painful beat squeezes my chest at the recalling of such danger. The soldiers that raided the Water Tribe wore those same helmets…

I could knock Lu Ten out. Leave the soldiers leaderless, weaken their stance. Though I don’t know if I count with enough water – (or skill) – to hold back all of them after that.

Lu Ten orders all the fronts to attack; Zuko goes for the ones we are facing directly, Aang is tired and he can’t react fast enough to the men at his side.

“Aang!” I push him out of the way and catch the fire with my water. It extinguishes as soon as they touch.

I look up and throw the water in a cutting swing that breaks a nearby tree branch, it falls in front of the soldiers before they can approach. I do the same to keep them from getting closer to Zuko and block the ones on Sokka’s side.

I yell to the boys “Run!

The fire already spread across the forest, wherever we go, there are razor-sharp blazes. Lu Ten orders his men to follow us; they bend openings for themselves trespassing the flames. Zuko opens some for us but we are too slow and the soldiers are riding komodo-rhinos. Appa and Momo can’t rise, they could catch fire from the tips of the trees. I throw my water cutting more branches that will block the men’s way.

The current sways repeatedly, angrily, as strong as I can make it. “Get. Away. From my. Boys!”

The fire is evaporating my water; I can see the threads of steam… They are dense…

I have an idea, “Aang, you can enlarge air with your airbending, right?”

He frowns but nods.

“I need you to do something for me.”

I pass the water close to the fire a few times until it dissolves completely, the steam sprouts.

“Expand the steam! Create a curtain!”

He does, and it stretches around the trees enough to obstruct the soldier’s line of sight. The steam is not heavy the way smoke is, this cover won’t hurt their lungs or ours.

“Well thought, Katara.”

I blush at Zuko’s voice. I actually do. It’s a contrast to the pain I felt earlier.

We run until we get to the spot where we hid Druk. He goes up, his scales protect him from the harm of the fire and he cracks down the treetops for making another opening, Hawky is soaring above it and he squeals for signaling it is big enough that we can pass. I yank Sokka to Druk’s back after Zuko climbs up, Aang rides on Appa.

My skin gets goosebumps at the switch of temperatures on the cool sky. But it is the sight of the forest burning under our feet that makes me shiver.

Aang frowns again in worry. “We can’t leave the forest like this. Katara, can’t you do something with your waterbending?”

Suddenly, I am shivering because of shame, “Sorry, Aang, I don’t have any more water.”

And even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to bend a current big enough to put down the fire.

“Zuko, what about your firebending?”

“I don’t know if I could contain such a massive fire by myself. And I don’t think I could fully extinguish it.”

A fireball shoots to us, Druk has to skip it. More come in a jumble, the soldiers are snipping at us from the ground.

Druk and Appa snake erratically to avoid the blasts, it’s like being in the middle of a meteor shower: better when you are not in the meteor’s way. Druk’s cry creaks when a fire whip hits his foot.

Zuko shouts, “Druk!”

We tumble to one side and he slips, I grab his hand, he clutches mine; Sokka keeps me from falling next.

The stretch of my muscles and skin…

Hawky and Momo try to help me pull Zuko up, yanking the shoulders of his coat with their respective claws and beak. I hiss when the beads of his bracelet nip my palm.

“Katara.”

Between gasps for air (chilly puffs) I see his eyes wide-open without a clear expression; his face unbelievably pale, masking panic. He watches me hang from Druk’s side, small, panting and grimacing. I, in fact, can hear his voice telling me to let go.

I don’t know if it is the memory of when he and Sokka fell down that pit in the Southern Labyrinth, but I can hear it.  

Let go. You will fall, you’ll get hurt.’

I put on more strength that matches my resistance, the same I had when he told me to leave him behind at Zhao’s warship.

Why are you like this?

I pull at his hand.

Why the self-sacrificing?

It doesn’t work so I pull again.

I don’t want it.

I don’t want to lose you…

“Druk, you have to land,” my words are a strained sob because of the dull pain, “I can’t pull him up like this!”

He descends to a semi-open area where we can barely evade the flames, the pain on my arm finally eases as Zuko touches the floor.

Another fire shot comes behind his back. The pain passes to my throat for my scream, “No!

The shot hits his back, I can’t do nothing.

In another second, I get a… faint perception… of his voice going through his very thought process.

I don’t know either if I am imagining it, but I can… feel him sensing the fire coming…

Because I know how sharp his senses are

Then him realizing that if he skipped it, the fire would hit Druk, Sokka, or me…

Because I know how good his reflexes work

And him deciding to use himself as a human shield.

Unconscious tears stream from my eyes, I count the emotions as if they were punctures: an injection of sadness, of rage, and one of recognition.

Why would you do this? Why would you sacrifice so much of yourself?

That hurts! I know that, I know for the memories appearing. Myself at the Water Tribe for years. Trying to protect everyone even though… I couldn’t.

I remember that kind of pain too. Being deficient… alone. It kept hurting… so much.

“Zuko!”

The fire hit his upper back, between his shoulder blades, I examine it closer after I jump to kneel beside him.

I can protect him. This keeps hurting too… I can’t lose him. I don’t want to.  

The burned hole in his coat shows his fair skin grazed by the strike. His coat was thick enough to protect him like with Zhao’s shot to his stomach earlier today. I am not sure how much inner damage it caused to receive another attack so soon.

He isn’t unconscious, he is awake. Groaning and trying to stand up like the noble hardhead that he is. The anger in me stings some more.

Aang manages to land Appa, he and Sokka rush panicky to check on Zuko, Druk also tries to see him despite the slap on his foot. Hawky comes to stand next to his head, and Momo licks him.

I’m… fine.

No, he is not. And the komodo-rhinos are coming closer.

“Anybody has some water with them?” I query.

“I have this bottle,” Sokka pulls a water bottle wrapped in leather from his belt.

I shake it; it is up to half, “I can make this work.”

The water waves out imitating the movements of my hand. I freeze it once it is all out, the ice isn’t even the size of my fist, but that’s okay. I don’t need a brick, I need a bullet.   

By the time the soldiers find us, I stand with my back to the boys. I know how I look: the untrained waterbender, a teenage girl acting like she can shield everyone and a dragon, and defeat a group of Fire Nation soldiers to top.

My emotions are lying low, save for the black resentment amassing. It is more controlled than regular rage, more calculating.

The soldiers ride their rhinos to circle us. I throw the ice to one of them on my right, below the edge of his helmet, where it smacks between his eyes. Hard. He bleeds, becomes disoriented, enough to lose control of the rhino and fall from his seat. The ice shattered, so I make the pieces float and reassemble to make a cut on the next soldier’s leg, loosening the leashes of his rhino and making him fall from his seat as well. The soldier next to him tries to firebend at me, I use my ice to cut his knuckles and stab the exposed side of his face when he distracts himself hissing. He screams for the stab, scaring his own rhino and losing control over the latter. They both crash against the other soldier and rhino in the line, the four of them end up in a mess of grunts on the ground.

Sokka stopped midway while trying to help Zuko up; all the boys stare at me with impossibly big eyes.

“What?” I say. “We have to leave!”

I melt the ice and return it to the bottle (just in case), and help Sokka move Zuko to Druk’s back.

“I’m so, so sorry, sweet friend,” I tell the poor dragon, petting him, “You’re going to have to fly for a while longer. When we get out of here, I’ll cure your wound myself.”

He nods, making some sound that hears itself affirmative. I kiss my palm and press it to the side of his head.

I tell him to rise, but burned branches fall from the trees, halting our path. Other soldiers keep coming, too many for me to handle with the water from Sokka’s bottle. Zuko’s injured and I don’t know if Aang is better yet – or if it’d be a good idea at all to use airbending and run the risk that the air encouraged the flames. 

The soldiers finally surround us, Druk continues his attempts to rise. It is difficult, the fire reached everywhere, like we were inside one of their fireballs. If he went up, we would burn.

The soldiers use more fire whips to tie his feet.

No!

A water tentacle comes out of… nowhere… and disintegrates the whips.

“What…”

A huge blast of air pushes down the standing trees, making a much wider aperture than what Druk did before.

“Kids, are you alright?”

Gyatso?” We all look down to him.

He is battling the Fire soldiers. In hand-to-hand combat. And winning.

And he isn’t wearing his Air Nomad robe, he is wearing an indigo blue one with a white neck and details in the ends of its sleeves with some flower-shaped symbol. It looks like that lotus flower we found drawn in the Southern Labyrinth…

“Go to the top of the mountain,” he says.

“What is…”

“Go to the top of the mountain!” he repeats – much fiercer than he has ever talked to us. “And that’s an order! Go to the top and don’t return to the forest! Kanna is waiting for you there!”

“Kanna?”

“You mean our grandmother?” Sokka finishes for me.

He’s just as confused as I am – we all are. We have… never mentioned Gran-Gran to Gyatso. He could mean someone else. But then… how did he know we would recognize the name?

“Just go!”

We do. I direct Druk to the top of the mountain, to the remains of the air temple. There are… people there… wearing the same robe Gyatso was wearing in the forest… Gran-Gran…

“Katara! Sokka!”

She is smiling.

She is here.

I fall down, as though I fainted.

Sokka catches me.

I only register the night sky.

Sokka is saying my name. Zuko, Aang. All of them want to wake me; I am… beaten… by every new shocker showing up out of the blue. Until she says my name:

“Katara!”

I blink. She is here. Gran-Gran. She is here.

“Gran-Gran… What are you…”

I stand up. My feet touch the floor. I don’t know when we went down from Druk’s back.

I gasp, “Druk!”

Hysteria is the first emotion that I distinguish from the unclear fog inside my brain, I run to him, and then…

“Zuko, are you okay?”

Gran-Gran takes my hand. “Katara, Katara, calm down. Everything is fine.”

No, it isn’t. What is ‘everything’?

Is my hair loose? When did my braids fall apart?

What is happening?

“We should get you all inside,” Gran-Gran says.

Sokka comes to hold me when she lets go of my hand, Aang scoots closer to us. Zuko is at our side, his eyes follow Gran-Gran and the other elderly men accompanying her. When he looks back at me, there is a single glint of moonshine in them. The familiarity of it is enough to shake off a tad more of the numbness.

I keep stumbling as we walk, my limps are waking up… slowly.

They take us to a corner of the wreckage, where the pieces of stone were… brushed away, and there’s a compartment in there. A door. We get inside. There’s darkness, a long road of darkness. It is… endless, with misleading proportions as if we were walking a straight line, but I notice we are walking downhill. We finally get to… I don’t know. It’s a second floor, the boys and I can see the ground floor better when we get closer to a metallic railing. There’s another opening at one side of the wall in there and Druk and Appa come through it. This place is… big. Like it could fit an underground city. It’s empty – at least this space – there’s only the ground floor for Druk and Appa to rest. Looking up, there’s a small window embed at the top of the mountain – the mountain is very ceiling of whatever this place is.

“What is going on?” The numbness makes my question come out much calmer than what I’m feeling. I turn to Gran-Gran.

“You entered this place once, didn’t you?”

I look at Sokka.

“The underground amphitheater?” he says.

“It’s… much bigger than that,” she answers. “But… if you were at the amphitheater, you saw the White Lotus insignia?”

White lotus insignia, like the ones in the robes Gyatso was wearing and that Gran-Gran is wearing now.

“What is going on?” I repeat.

“See, kids, there are things I never… I never had the chance to tell you.” There are tears in her eyes.

 

 

Kanna

I don’t remember much from that day. The voyage is a sequence of short yet significant moments with people I haven’t seen since then. The one ingrained in my head is before I stepped onto the canoe. I felt dainty, weightless. I didn’t have anything, except for my necklace. The canoe was light as well, made of thin materials, it wouldn’t last long. I did consider all the horrible possibilities and outcomes, unafraid. If I died, I died.

I wasn’t pessimistic though, I was friendly and polite; it earned me lots of friends that gave me food and new clothes, and materials to build new boats. It’s not a time in my life that I resent, it was interesting, and I felt adventurous although I wasn’t sure that I truly was.

I was impressed by how easy it was to talk with everyone, I had few friends back at home. The divisions between the nations couldn’t stop my voice from travelling and being heard. It was idealistic, but it was my belief.

One of those friends I met used to do nothing but compliment my conversational skills during our friendly games of Pai Sho. Probably the reason why I always won.

He introduced me to his other friends, enthusiasts of the game. I beat them all.

Hama was slightly more difficult to defeat, but I did. That was when I received my Lotus tile and my robes.

Someone so adept at conversation and who could charm so many people from so many parts of the world would be an asset for an international organization of such renown.

 

 

Katara

She was born in the North Pole.

She was engaged in an arranged marriage with a man she didn’t love. 

She fled.

She lied.

Chapter 33: Chapter 三十二: Falling pieces

Notes:

So... It's been a while, hasn't it? 😅

Guys, I'm sorry, but my sleeping troubles sometimes leave me days without sleep, and besides the stuff here in Venezuela is... we also spend days without food and it's kind of difficult to write when you're hungry. And I recently I also caught an infection in a tooth gum, all the left side of my face hurt. But I already took some medicines, so I thought posting a new chapter would be a good way to celebrate it. I told you I wouldn't give up on this AU, and I still want to go on and make more Avatar AUs because I have zero interest in whatever new Avatar content might come in the future and this fandom really affects me with their casual racism and segregation mentality. Ironically, it's so NOT a safe space for people of color.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy today's chapter! As for whenever I will update again, I'm actually spending the holidays with some relatives who don't have WiFi, if I don't manage to update over the course of December, know that I'm working on several chapters to post in January. Bye, love you!! 💖💖💋

Edit: I decided to change Zuko's last name because I thought the previous didn't fit his character or his role in this story.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sokka

She lost me after she and her ‘White Lotus Secret Society’ friends took the four of us to some… Okay, gonna be honest, I don’t know what to call this place. It’s under the mountain, or more like… it is the mountain. The damn thing was hollow to fit an underground… palace? A Yaodong[1]? Anyway, it screams RICH! From the details and decorations made in actual gold all over the doors and walls to the dozens of bodyguards and servants still arranging this place for a more serious meeting.

Hey, this is the labyrinth we found when we first came here! They restored it: cleaned the hallways, the rooms, including the one where we are sitting on a comfy couch – not that I’m complaining – put on new lights, took away the moss and dirt, there are white lotus-shaped insignias all over… they were the ones that were keeping the Southern Labyrinth from falling apart!

I knew it!

I knew it, knew it, KNEW IT!

Gran-Gran’s friend, Hama, an old lady in a wheelchair, is healing our group. With waterbending. (Waterbending can heal?) (Did Katara know about this? I would ask her, but she’s been in a frozen-like state since we got here.) Hama erases the burns and bruises, even Zuko’s old scars on his arms and the stab on his shoulder. He snaps when she tries to touch the burn for the shot on his back though.

“Sorry… I don’t like touching.”

“It isn’t necessary for me to touch you,” Hama told him, “the water will do the healing.”

He backed further.

Katara put a hand on his arm. (It’s the only response she has had from her frozen state since we met with Gran-Gran.)

Apparently, a look from her is enough for Zuko to remain calm enough while Hama touches his back. (If I wasn’t distracted by the bizarreness of the general situation, I would gag.)

The other old man – Piandao – brought Zuko a new shirt, his clothes were wrecked.

Recapping: Gran-Gran is from the North Pole. She was supposed to marry a loser, so she decided to move away to the South Pole. On the trip, she met the Order of the White Lotus – ominous tone intended – a secret society formed by elite benders and nonbenders from all over the world, trespassing the limits of the four nations, and lots of philosophical stuff.

Bottom line: Gyatso is a member. (Why am I listing him first? My own grandmother is a member!) Gran-Gran is a member. (There. Happy, Brain?) Hama is a member. Piandao is a member even though he is Fire Nation. Hama was the one that threw that water tentacle back at the forest. Gyatso knocked out the rest of the soldiers.

It is… a lot to process. (Like, it’s cool! But…)

“The White Lotus is supposed to be an organization dedicated to seeking philosophy, beauty, and truth. To share political knowledge across national divides,” Gran-Gran goes on with her tour.

She and all the elders are sitting on expensive furniture in front of us. Gyatso looks like an older (balder) – (mustacher) – version of Zuko: guilty about whatever is happening but with a sense of righteousness and love for the greater good.

Hama is in her wheelchair, holding Gran-Gran’s arm a little like Katara did with Zuko’s throughout the healing. Piandao is the only one standing. More bodyguards and servants come and go, taking away overly distracting decorations, and putting teacups in the little table between us.

“That sounds good,” I say, shrugging. Because what else am I supposed to say?

“Not to me,” Katara’s voice is as hollow as the mountain.

Zuko and Aang were trying to wake her up since a while ago and even they look surprised that she talked. Her face is still shocked and blank, staring into space.

“If this is about politics… about trespassing the limits of the four nations… why didn’t you interfere in the War?”

Gran-Gran, Gyatso, Hama, and Piandao know it is a good question for the way their eyes grow in a ‘we’ve-been-busted’ way.

“We couldn’t…” Gran-Gran starts. “The White Lotus is supposed to be a secret.”

“Your grandmother never meant to hide it from you,” Hama jumps in to defend Gran-Gran. They must be really close friends. (Something about which Katara and I had absolutely no awareness of because Gran-Gran had never talked about her.) “It killed her to do so, she always wanted you to know, but there’s an oath and our society has rules.”

“Rules?” Katara stands. The muscles on her face are shifting. She’s already angry and has been for a long while. “We were dying at the South Pole. If this were about uniting the four nations, where did you leave us? Where did you leave anyone that wasn’t some of your precious scholars? The Air Nomads were terrified of meeting another human being, the Southern Water Tribe starved for years, and all along you could have reached out – do something – and you didn’t?

She’s crying.

“Katara, settle down.” I reach to sit her back.

She doesn’t comply.

“Katara, it wasn’t like that,” Gran-Gran stands from her own comfy chair to face her. “The Order of the White Lotus was meant to be made of teachers. Communicators. For the Avatar, especially. We are meant to help restore balance as well.”

Zuko says nothing. But he clearly is the Avatar for how much ice he bent into his glare.

“Kids, none of this is like what you’re saying,” Piandao tries to intercede.

“This is none of your business,” Zuko bites back.

“And you were in contact with the other nations all this time?” Aang looks at Gyatso. “You told them about the Air Nomads? You betrayed the Council?”

“The White Lotus isn’t tied to any nation’s laws.”

“How convenient,” Katara retorts. “If you are so above everything and everyone, and you are such an elite team, and you have friends all over the world, you might as well assemble an army and overthrow the Fire Lord.”

“It wasn’t our place–”

“But you could do that?” I didn’t mean to say that aloud.

None of them answer. I can see it in their faces that they haven’t even considered that option… until now.

Katara storms off, I stay frozen – we swapped.

“Sokka, you believe we never had ill intentions, right?” Gran-Gran takes my hand.  “You understand.”

I think that I do. I guess? I try to gather and consider all the facts.

This is too much like when Dad embarked with our tribesmen; I had to understand then, too. He was the most experienced warrior, the strongest, he knew better. I had to understand.

But I am an adult now. I shouldn’t be told to understand because I should know better myself.

I don’t.

 

 

Katara

They haven’t remodeled this hallway yet, it is dark…

… It is cold.

“Katara, wait!” Zuko’s voice resounds in the blackness. It has that strange echo from the first time we visited the Air Temple.

The universe must be trying to teach me something… that I really am as naïve and stupid as Sokka always said I was!

Always blindly believing the best! I used to tell the youngest kids at the Tribe ‘The good will always rise against the bad’, ‘anyone can be a hero’!

I obviously am not as mature as I thought if I believed my own fairytale.

“Kat–”

I whip around, “What?

It isn’t my intention to speak so brusquely, the adrenaline and the anger are tensing me. They rip into my throat, my voice. It is for the best, the pain will make me more capable.  

I can see Zuko backing up, the steam rising from his breathe. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.” (And this reverse of roles from our first days in the mountains is not funny!)

“Katara–”

“Don’t say it, okay?” I demand – (and I am not begging; I don’t need to beg) – stepping forward. “You just. Don’t!”

I spin and keep moving; the pain shows in a single tear. Don’t.

“Katara–” 

“You have no idea what this War has put me through!” I whip to face him again, more tears itch my eyes, “Nobody has any idea what this War has put me through! They don’t know what this War has put me through!” I point in the direction we came from in this horrible but lush palace. “They never cared to know! They never saw all the times I was left without food because I gave it all to them and made it all for them out of scraps! I was left feeding of my own blood!” I pull down the sleeve of my parka to show the healed and shallow (but present) cuts above my wrists. “And after that, I cleaned for them. I cured them when they were sick. I put them to bed so they got good sleep and I was left without covers – I made them those covers! I made them their clothes! And what did they do? Making fun of me? Leaving me? Lying?”

I can’t see beyond the hot fog of my tears. They abandoned me… 

Everything... blurs when Zuko crushes me into a hug. 

His heart beats so strong...

My fists clench on his sleeve and chest, his heat gets to me through both our clothes, it feels... febrile...

... His breathing sounds agitated...

... And he is so alive.

My body loosens as I start crying; I cry mourning. The cold, my mom, my Tribe, myself — This. I cry because I put my trust on the wrong people. Because I don't know if there are ‘right’ people. Because I don't know when to hold on until it hurts, and when to let go.

Zuko holds me tighter. His hand caresses my hair, albeit hesitantly. “It’s okay. I’ll… I’ll fix it. I’ll fix everything, I promise.”

He goes on repeating it while my sobs calm.

“Do you always have to be a hero?”

“I am nobody’s hero. But I can try to be one, if it is for you.”

I stop the other emotions before they can run rampant. “You don’t have to,” I find his eyes easily; they do have a kitten-lynx-like glow to them in the dark, “I don’t need saving.”

Not from somebody else at least.

It’s me. My hand goes to my necklace. I need to save myself

“Guys!”

Zuko and I separate at Aang’s voice, his heat lingers.

Aang clings to Zuko once he reaches us before the end of the hallway. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have escaped tonight!”

“Aang, this is not your fault,” Zuko returns the hug. Still hesitant.

I smile, despite everything. So Zuko.

“Hey!” Sokka more like half-runs to us. He’s breathing too heavily, he must have been looking for us all over the place. “I spoke to the White Lotus servants. They say they arranged rooms for us to spend the night.”

“You spoke to them?” Why would he even want to address them?

“They are offering us warm beds.”

“Sokka!” I cry.

“What?” he is baffled and resigned. “Seriously, guys, we are all exhausted, covered in still freezing melted snow and ashes, in the middle of the night. Another one of our heroic endeavors almost sent us to the hospital. We might as well sleep it better.”

“Don’t you see what’s happening here?”

“We don’t know what’s happening here,” he answers. 

He doesn’t look (or sound) like himself. He is so crestfallen.

But I don’t have time to question him any further because he is already walking away and returning through the corridor. He does have abandoned me.

“We are staying here?” Aang’s voice is high with discomfort.

“No, we… we can escape,” Zuko offers. “We can… I can… I’ll break the walls! We’ll escape through the walls!”

“Seriously?” I say.

“Yeah?”

I don’t doubt that he can, I just… “We can’t. Sokka’s right that we can’t be outside while Zhao and Lu Ten are, and we don’t know whether the camp already moved and to where. We would be wandering in the night.”

“So we are staying here?” Aang repeats.

“It’ll be only for one night,” I tell him, passing a hand over his shoulders.

I don’t know if I’m telling the truth though. And it scares me, and it scares Aang:

“You mean that?”

I freeze.

 “Don’t worry about that either, Aang,” Zuko saves me from having to answer, ruffling his inexistent hair with his knuckles. “Let’s just go to sleep, we are all tired.”

Aang doesn’t resist anymore and we walk through the corridor until we find some White Lotus servants. I instinctively recoil and hide behind Zuko’s back; I don’t want anything to do with this place.

Zuko’s other hand just as instinctively goes to mine when I hold on to his arm, the sight of his bracelet – the orange beads widely separated and marked with dirt – reminds me of the almost-fall scare earlier.

… I thought I was going to lose him too. 

“Excuse us,” he says. “Um… We were told there are some bedrooms arranged for us.

The servants bow our way. “Sure thing, Lord Atae.”

“Atae[2]?”

“It is my last name.”

Oh…

Atae Zuko.

The servants guide us through some more corridors, all well-lit, well-decorated, long, with a tall roof, comfortable, and pretty. The walls are made of concrete alone but with abstract, complex, artistic, perfect details carved into them. And I do hate myself for noting they are pretty at all!

Zuko once said this place reminded him of the Fire Palace. He is inexpressive by my side, won’t even look at the mere walls.

We finally arrive at a spot where there are four doors positioned two at one side of the hallway, two at the other.

My gaze shoots between them, “Where is my brother?”

I don’t think they would hurt Sokka – (immediately) – but I don’t trust them with him either.

“Lord Sokka has already entered his room. This is his,” they gesture to the first door on the left wall. “All rooms are decorated according to each of your respective nations. Lady Katara?”

They open the first door on the right wall for me, the one that mirrors Sokka’s. (They also arranged them according to blood relation?) The inside of the room is enormous, deluxe, even more beautiful and comfy-looking… and I keep hating that I notice! It is colored in Water Tribe colors: blue, purple, and silver. (Baby blue, lavender, and silver.) The bed has some brilliant adornments that shine like tiny stars!

Pfft! They’re pretty, so what? The room needs more purple anyway!

(Is this what they’re trying to do? Buying us off with extravagant bedrooms?)

“There are new clothes for you in the wardrobes as well, everything you need,” the servants indicate after opening the doors to Zuko and Aang’s bedrooms. Aang’s next to mine, Zuko’s next to Sokka’s.

They ultimately excuse themselves with another reverence. “Let us know if you need anything else.”

Aang, Zuko, and I simply stare at our open doors. Before turning around and hugging each other yet again.

“It’s going… to be okay,” Zuko keeps on trying to be reassuring.

And he’s persistent, I’ll give him that.

“Can we please sleep together tonight, guys?” Aang pleas. “Please? I really, really need that tonight.”

“I’m gonna go check on Sokka first,” I say. And knock on his door.

I can almost hear his yawn through it.

“What?” His clothes and hair are tussled for his typical tossing and turning.

“Don’t what me,” I hug him, “I was worried.”

He does return the hug. “Sorry, baby sister. So what is it?”

“We were going to sleep altogether to pass the awful night,” I tell him. “You wanna come with?”

“What are y’all, like five?”

My face falls, deception is bitter. “You want to or not?”

He shrugs. “Sure, come inside. I’m surprised Mr. Glaredevil over here is such a big softie though.”

“You know what, I can sleep in my room,” Zuko deadpans.

“No, you stay.” I take his hand.

I’m sick of Sokka’s attitude! I’m sick of my own family being unappreciative jerks!

I just want all of this to be over!

 

 

***

 

 

Gyatso

“We’ve been informed that Commander Zhao has already moved on to attack the Earth Kingdom villages settled in these mountains. Should we tell Avatar Zuko about this?”

I stare at the scale map of the Southern Mountains and the model positioned on the table in the Meeting Hall. There are small maroon-colored blocks to represent the Fire Nation troops – lots of maroon-colored blocks.

Zuko thinks he can survive anything that the Fire Nation figuratively and literally shoots at him.

I know he can’t. I know I wouldn’t survive it myself if I saw him nearly pierced by a fire attack to his core ever again.

“No,” I declare, setting aside the maroon blocks. “We won’t tell him.”

Notes:

Trivia:

[1] Yaodong: Also called “house cave” is a form of earth shelter dwelling in Chinese architecture, they are common in Loess Plateau in China's north.

[2] Atae: Japanese name and surname. Written 与え or 與え, it means "gift, godsend".

Chapter 34: Author's Note

Chapter Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE

So, yes, I am alive. And it wasn’t my intention to disappear for so long. I know you guys deserve an explanation, but first, let me get to why I am writing an Author’s Note instead of uploading a new chapter.

Don’t worry, I am going to finish this series, and all the other Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra series I have planned, but the reason why I feel so confident in that is because I’ve grown so much as a writer. And right now I am editing the previous chapters in this fic to replace the old ones, so if you want to keep the original version of this fic, I suggest downloading it. I really tried to upload at least one new chapter that matched the ones I had posted so far, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t go back to the person I was when I wrote like that, and I’m proud of it. I’m very proud of the fact that now I have improved skills to express the feelings I meant to put in this fic from the beginning. Don’t worry, the plot won’t change, the character journey won’t change—actually, some characters will get more development thanks to the time I’ve dedicated to thinking of this fic and their journeys—and the ships won’t change either, and yes, this is still a Zutara story.  

I’m sorry again for making you wait so long for this, but I… I was somewhat homeless for a good share of last year. I used to live in an unfinished house, so I had to move in with some relatives in the countryside without WiFi, and my mom is still going through her health issues, and now we have moved to another country.

It was just too much for me to handle back then, but I’m hoping I can get back on my feet this time.

Thank you so much for not giving up on this story while I was away, and if you want, you can search on Tumblr for @thebanishedprince-atla or you can click here, it’s a side-blog I made for having fun while I’m writing this series. It has snippets, memes, incorrect quotes, and character designs, and you can get some more updates about what’s to come in the story.

So now you know, if you want to keep the bits of the story as they are right now, download it, and I’ll see you again when I have the chapters edited and ready.

Thanks again. Bye! 💋💋💖     

Chapter 35: Chapter 三十三: Broken pieces

Notes:

A short update is better than no update.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Zuko

I don’t know how long I’ve been awake.

I don’t know if I fell asleep in the first place.

Katara, Aang, and Sokka are, asleep.

The mattress is a mess. Sokka almost falls; he is snoring. Aang isn’t much different, his arms are hanging at the edge. Katara is breathing through her mouth.

This is the first time I’ve shared a bed (platonically) with anyone.

I pass a hand over Katara’s hair, tuck Aang’s arms under the sheets and practically roll Sokka up. Guess I’m our group’s light sleeper.

Well, I’m awake enough by now.

I know which one is Katara’s room, and the one next to hers looks meant for me. If for anything, because the walls are red. I head into the washroom but my reflection looks back at me when I open the door.

Agni, I hate this.

My fist crashes and splits the crystal. I hate being naïve!

This place reminds me too much of the Fire Palace and that, more than anything, annoys me! This whole thing feels like it’s mocking me. Even if I break every mirror I find, I can’t escape it… this! My face. My scar. Who I am. Even my future.

Are all so-called mentors like this or am I just unlucky? Probably the latter.

I was always meant to be a scapegoat; I am an outcast.

I’m tired of this.

I almost didn’t remember that I was carrying my dagger in my belt. But I pull it out and cut a chunk of my hair.

Notes:

Better late than never, I suppose. I wanted to finish this fic before the live-action aired but, oh well, life happens. Either way, I wanted to update whoever is still around that I'm not going anywhere and I do mean to finish this series. I'll probably update again this weekend. This whole story is inspired by the things I went through when I was in Venezuela, and I think I finally got to a place where I can talk about them more freely.

Also, if you enjoy it, please comment. Writing in 1st Person's POV is quite difficult and it's hard to stay motivated. Comments help 💖

Series this work belongs to: