Chapter 9: Katara Alone - I
If Gran-Gran was engaged, then why did she leave? ~ Katara
Book I, Episode 18 - The Waterbending Master
Katara paused for a moment to breathe in the warmth of the Fire Nation night, her clothes sticking to her under a light sheen of sweat. She had been walking steadily for hours, letting her feet carry her further and further away from the past. But now, as the dawn drew closer, she felt her footsteps slowing. She’d passed the last outskirts of the city a while ago, and so there was nothing but open plain spreading ahead of her, the landscape broken only by a few hardy bushes and lovely trails of straggling flowers. The world was washed of colour in the dimming moonlight, but nonetheless, Katara could appreciate the beauty of the Fire Nation landscape.
Still, it wasn’t the land that made her pause so much as the light that was beginning to creep up on top of it. Somewhere along the way, Katara had made the decision to follow the coastline. And as she climbed the last few yards to the next cliff-top, she couldn’t fault her choice. Like a golden koi fish swimming just below the surface, the sun sent brilliant streaks through the water on the horizon. It made for a magnificent sight.
It wasn’t quite the same though... not the same as sunrise over the ice floes, that magic moment when the reflected light was so beautiful it hurt your eyes. Katara paused and looked out from the highest fold in the land, an untold ache starting somewhere deep within her.
It was good that it began like that, small as a seed but rapidly unfurling, because that mean that Katara was prepared when she was suddenly struck by a wave of homesickness. Still, it brought her to her knees in the grass, her small pack clutched tightly in her lap as he eyes gazed over the sea. The view was still gorgeous, the push and pull of the ocean comforting an ancient longing somewhere deep within her very soul. But the difference of it raised an unavoidable question.
What was she doing here, a drop of water in a sunburnt land? Katara frowned, slowly uncrossed her legs from beneath her, and then leant forwards, resting her cheek in the heel of her palm. A slow uncertainty roiled in her, like a mini-whirlpool sucking her energy down into its spout. The feeling had begun the instant she had consciously made up her mind to ‘run away’, and it had persisted ever since. That was why she had never made a conscious decision to stay in the Fire Nation. Somehow, it had just happened, the shifting, eddying feeling inside her guiding her steps for the last ten hours. Katara felt the tiredness seeped into her bones drag her down just a little further. She’d made good time, so she could afford to rest now, maybe even sleep. But she knew without question that sleep was beyond her at the moment.
She had to think.
The silence of dawn stretched out ahead of her, broken by the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks beneath. With her objective settled in mind, Katara slowly loosened her grip on the bag and placed it beside her. There wasn’t much in there, really. A change of clothes to replace the blue ones under her black ninja garb. A portable tent that folded into a roll the width of her arm. A closely wrapped bundle of food that would last her a few days, enough until she figured out what to do next. A satchel of toiletries and essentials like needle and thread. And then one more, a small pouch that was deceptively heavy and made up for everything else she didn’t have.
“Here, Sugarqueen. I’ve been saving it for something special.”
The words that she wasn’t saying rang loudly in their ears and Katara stared. “You kept this?”
Toph smirked. “I’ve still got more knocking around. We made a lot of cash in those days.”
The pride in her voice made Katara laugh, and for the tenth time that hour she wrapped Toph in a hug. Surprisingly enough, this time the little earthbender hugged her fiercely back. Perhaps it was because everything else was already packed and everything else was ready, and so she knew goodbye was soon. Or perhaps it was just because it felt right.
For once, Katara was the first one to let go. She stepped back, her eyes brimming a little, but her own self control maintained the tears. “Thanks Toph. For everything.”
Her ‘little sister’ scowled. “I’m expecting you to pay it all back, d’you hear? Every last copper piece. With interest.”
Katara smiled. “Count on it.”
And then she left, just like that. Because there was nothing more to be done; Toph had already said everything that she needed to say in her own Toph-like way. And as Katara shimmied out the length of the window, prepared to use every inch of her skill and speed to outsmart the guards stationed throughout the palace, she heard the unspoken words sound clear and sharp in her mind.
Come home. Be safe. I’ll look after the others.
Katara didn’t look back.
A soft smile on her lips, Katara tugged the bag once more, feeling the comforting weight in it lent by the small pouch. Weeks ago, if someone had told her that she’d be running off through the Fire Nation and leaving Toph in control of things, she would have laughed out loud in their faces. If they’d persisted, she might have even smacked them with a water whip... after all, weeks ago she’d still been feeling pretty vengeful, what with the newfound addition to their party and the electric taste of hatred she’d gotten in her mouth every time he passed.
Katara let out a low laugh, at herself this time, and then straightened and looked out to sea. She wasn’t quite sure where she was, she hadn’t really been following any particular route. There had been no need for it this time, and she revelled in the feeling of being able to choose not to take a direction, of just literally going with the flow of it, no matter how uncomfortable and how draining it felt to have an aching inner compass inside her, that pushed and pulled and wavered on uncertainty and just made her so tired. Still, even her physical, mental and spiritual exhaustion couldn’t completely block the heady feeling of freedom... the last year had always been Aang’s destiny pointing out where to go next, and then Sokka’s directions and Fate taking them there.
And now she had nothing. No Avatar to follow, no brother to tell her what was next on their schedule. No Destiny, no Fate. She could have done anything, gone anywhere... and yet somehow the little pool inside her of uncertainty and hurt had decided to stay in the Fire Nation, right where all of it had started in all of the wrong ways.
Why?
Katara groaned and slumped sideways, wishing that she could stay there for a while. These days, it seemed that all she could do was run around in circles around her head. She didn’t know why. She could only guess. Perhaps, somewhere inside her she just knew that the Earth Kingdom held nothing for her at the moment, and that as much as she wished it, the glittering icebergs of her home or the North Pole didn’t seem quite right either. Perhaps for once, she wanted both land and water to guide her steps, a strange sort of harmony in this country where flame presided also.
Funny, how when she had the freedom to finally choose, in a way, she’d chosen to stay right where she was. Katara wrinkled her nose. Perhaps she’d finally gotten too tired of dreaming? When she was little, she remembered some of the elders saying something like that. Before they’d died, they’d been the last generation Southern Water Tribe people to still cling to some of the traditions of the North. Without meaning to, Katara felt herself drift off into the memory.
“What are you doing so idle, child?”
Katara looked up, her childish face near frozen from the winds. She’d finished mending Sokka’s pants a while ago, and had decided to step out of the tent for some air. And then she’d found herself racing through the snow, and that heap over there became a castle to besiege, that young cold-scarred tree a handsome prince to save. It had been fun for a while... until the old man had startled her.
She stepped back, a little timid, a little defensive. “Just playing.”
There was an old grunt of disapproval. “You should be inside,” he said severely. “I’m sure you still have plenty of work to do.”
She couldn’t stop herself. “But I’ve done it all already!” it burst out, “Can’t I just have time to daydream a little? Sokka gets to play with his toy spear all the time and not do any work!”
The instant the words flew out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Because they sounded alien to her ears. They were the words of a six year old, and although that was her age, today was the first time she’d felt it since her mother’s death three months ago.
Katara shivered a little and pushed the tears away (she was getting better at that). There as a long, long silence. And then...
“Dream on, little fish,” Old Paoi finally said, his voice gruff as he turned away. He was a tall man for being so old, and the height of his back as he strode from her seemed more than a slap in the face than his words. “As long as you remember that that’s all they’ll remain.”
...
Katara’s eyes snapped open, and her body convulsively hurled itself forwards. For a moment she sat like that, grass shreds tangled in her hair. And then she realised with a shaky laugh that she’d somehow fallen asleep.
Okay, Katara. Nap-time. You can think about why you’re in the Fire Nation later.
Wearily, Katara pulled out the tent and unrolled it, moving almost mechanically as she set up the poles. She was suddenly so exhausted that it felt like she couldn’t move, and she wondered why. Oh yeah, I’ve just forgotten what a vacation the last year has been.
Still, it was more than that. She just wasn’t nearly ready enough to admit it to herself.
When the structure was finally up, Katara crawled into the shelter it offered and curled up on the mat. Within seconds, her eyes shut, and she fell into a deep, dreamless, yet troubled sleep.
8 8 8
That’s...! ,,, I don’t know, I’ve never left home before...
8 8 8
The sun was high in the sky when Katara opened her eyes again, its rays hot on her skin even through the material of the tent. With a bleary groan, the waterbender rose and groped her way out to the opening. From the cliff-top, she drew a stream of water from the sea itself, bringing her mind back to full consciousness as she concentrated on leaving all the salt and impurities behind. When she drank, it was fresh and cold, and that was enough to get her back on her feet and moving again.
She packed up in record time, amazed at how much easier it was when she was alone. There was no Sokka to wake up, no hungry mouths to feed besides her own. And she didn’t need much... Katara worked a piece of bread out of her pack and chewed thoughtfully as she moved on again, trying to follow the restless feeling deep within her, lower even than her stomach. Strangely enough, it seemed to have found another course over her sleep; for the first time she found herself turning her back on the ocean and heading further inland, swiping away the flies with flicks of her own sweat bent expertly with her wrists.
Now where am I going? she wondered tiredly. Her initial alertness after the short rest seemed to have faded away. She moved like an automaton as the day grew longer and her limbs grew weaker, too restless to stop for long and too stubborn to eat enough food when she did. She only falteringly followed the urge deep within her, the ball of emotion pushing and pulling beneath her stomach. Finally, when it was nearing sundown, Katara found herself staggering into a small Fire Nation village nestled away in the hills.
It was a small place, just a surprisingly large market square in the middle and around twenty houses crowded in an outwardly spiralling circle around it. It felt like a stopover on the way to some greater destiny, a slumbering person about to take her first step into the dream world. Its most prepossessing feature was a moderately sized river which cut its way through the middle of the town, its banks muddy with waste, but the water flowing through its center startlingly clear. The mere sight of it brought a smile to her lips as she moved through the closing marketplace, her sharp ears picking out a distant rushing which she surmised to be a waterfall further up the river, perhaps amidst the craggy mountains that cut a steep path less than a mile from where the last house ended.
Katara was so tired and so grateful for that reassuring sound that when the body bumped into her, she barely noticed. It took a few more seconds before she realised exactly what had happened, and then...
“Hey!” Katara yelled after the retreating back. “Stop! Thief!”
As one, the people around her raised weary heads to watch in astonishment as this black-clad stranger, a hint of blue flashing around her legs as she ran, sprinted after a rapidly disappearing figure as he led her a chase through the village. Katara soon realised that the place itself was outwardly deceptive - enough alleys ran throughout the bumps and ridges of the land and between the houses for whoever she was following to constantly duck into and try to lose her, using his superior knowledge of the village to thwart her pursuit. But then again, she hadn’t been running from the Fire Nation for most of the year for nothing. Sure, it was ironic that this time it was she who was doing the chasing, but then again she was a quick learner.
He turned a sharp corner and led her back through the square, heaving gasps beginning to spill from his lungs. Completely unaware of all the people still watching her, she tore after him, her breathing only just beginning to get a little heavier. And then he ducked into another alley, and when she finally turned the corner she saw him stopped in the shadows, near doubled over, but with a mutinous glare in his eyes.
“You want it,” he rasped, holding up his arms menacingly, “You’ll have to fight for it.”
Katara didn’t even have time to think, or to even use her waterbending. She’d watched Sokka and Suki enough times now to know how it was done, and as the youth lunged for her, she dodged quickly under his clumsy attack, coming up from beneath him. All it took was one hard yank, one quick close-fisted punch, and then he reeled back to collapse with a thump as she grasped her re-liberated money bag.
Katara felt a hard flush of victory seep into her blood, quickening around her body with her accelerated heart rate. She’d done it. Such a little thing it seemed, but after having felt so drained and tired and weak the entire day, she was glad. And then she took a closer look at the boy.
He was clearly winded from her blow, his eyes still bulging out in shock and his mouth gaping as he stared at her. Suddenly, she felt her stomach drop out from beneath her. La, he was just a child, probably not much older than Aang. His hair was done in a near-perfect topknot, only a few strands escaping from the holdings, and his skinny body was dressed in faded red. But it was his face that gave him away, a face that she had seen far too often now; a face too prone to frowning and suffering for such a young age. A wave of regret washed through her and she stepped forwards instinctively to help him up, only to have him scramble back.
“I-I’m sorry! Please Miss, I’m sorry! My... I... it’s just, I really needed some money, and you looked...”
He hesitated and looked at her, his eyes still wide and staring, and Katara pulled back, a sudden irony twisting her lips.
“Like a helpless little girl?” she asked dryly.
Mutely, he nodded, a mask of terror stamped on his youthful face that just didn’t belong there. Slowly, Katara lowered herself down to a crouch and reached forwards, mindful not to scare him.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I understand. Here, let me help you up.”
Distrust shone from his eyes as he stared at her, but then slowly he took her hand and she pulled him up. He instantly hung his head, stray locks of black hair tumbling over his golden eyes, and Katara couldn’t help but think of another boy that she knew.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she said again. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I do want to know why you wanted my money. What do you need it for?”
It was as if the words had straightened his spine again, because his head jerked up defiantly. “I need it for my mother,” he rasped, his voice proud again, no longer the cowering kid he’d been just a second ago. “I need it so I can convince her to leave her inn, and we can get away before it’s too late!”
It wasn’t much, and she didn’t quite understand, but Katara read the conviction in him and she knew that he was telling the truth. For a moment, she contemplated just giving the bag to him. It was something that she would have done perhaps a year ago. But then she thought about the future and what she might need in this country still hostile to foreigners, and she sighed.
The world didn’t just change with the end of the War. The Fire Nation still had a long way to go.
“An inn, you say?” she finally said. “Well, it so happens that I was looking for a place to stay tonight. Perhaps if you take me there...”
She squeezed the bag meaningfully, and his round eyes became even rounder.
8 8 8
I’m not leaving. I’m not giving up on these people.
8 8 8
Surprisingly enough, the Moonrise inn was only one of the medium-sized buildings in the town. Lee explained it haltingly to her, his voice growing more confident as he became more sure that this strange foreign girl with the beautiful blue eyes wasn’t going to attack him again. A century ago, the town had had a thriving trade, and one of the biggest markets outside of the Fire Nation capital. It had been home to artisans, musicians, painters... a whole bevy of cultural joy that had earned it acclaim.
And then of course, the war had come.
Taxes were jerked up a steep incline. The artists were no longer funded - there was no warning, the money just disappeared. Destitute, they had stopped, no longer able to live as they once had. Over the course of decades, the biggest houses were pulled down as everyone who had once lived in them flocked to the capital for work. And the inn, once one of the most welcoming and largest establishments in town, had been forced to sell off divisions bit by bit, until it had been left with just the main building and a few extensions.
And although that still didn’t sufficiently explain why he had resorted to stealing, as Katara slowly entered the old inn, she saw as many of the sad, drooping faces reflected back at her as she had seen outside. They sat around tables, this main room clearly more of an impromptu bar than anything else. Their shadows draped off dilapidated but clean walls. It was clear that this place was as tired and hopeless as the people inside it, and the restless feeling in her subsided a little at the wave of compassion that suddenly flooded her chest. There was something wrong here.
“Lee! Where have you been?”
The boy walking next to her suddenly stiffened, and then straightened to his full height, a very impressive four foot twelve for his age. “Mother,” he darted a quick glance at the girl beside him, and then back to the middle aged woman fast approaching. “I brought a... guest. She needs someplace to stay tonight.”
“Oh! Well that’s good, I thought you were off getting into trouble again! Tell me, young miss. What can I do for you today?”
Katara saw Lee swallow, and with a hint of amusement, she turned back to his mother. She was probably around her forties, a few wisps of grey hidden amongst her tightly pulled back bun. But her fringe framed a soft, heart-shaped face that was still obviously pretty after so many years of work. Katara smiled at the kindness she saw there.
“Hi, I’m Katara. And, just a room thanks,” she said, and then felt her stomach grown in protest. Blushing a little, she added “And some dinner would be great.”
“Done and done,” the woman nodded, doing figures in her head. “That’ll be eight silver pieces.”
Katara felt Lee’s eyes on her as she drew the money pouch out of her bag. She knew that he hadn’t had time to look inside, but she could remedy a little of that now. Quickly, she counted out eight gold pieces and pressed them firmly into the innkeeper’s hands. The woman nodded briefly, and then looked down, her eyes widening.
There was a silence as Katara waited, filled in only by the periphery of low murmurs as the people in the rest of the taproom talked, and then the innkeeper’s face hardened and she thrust the coins back into Katara’s fingers.
“We don’t take charity, young miss.” she turned to go back to the bar, tall and proud in her tired body. “ Not from the Water Tribe, not from anywhere!”
“Mother...” Lee started, but Katara got there first. She reached out without thinking, her other hand firm on the woman’s shoulder. The innkeeper swung around to face her at the touch, her face still hard and cold, and Katara suddenly remembered that she’d been recognised.
She sighed. Well, she hadn’t even bothered changing her name, and she was obviously wearing blue under the black, and she hadn’t even removed her mother’s necklace. And again, there was the matter of her darkened skin, her brown hair and her blue eyes. Those were things that she couldn’t hide, and she never planned to.
She firmed her lips. Damn it all. It was the end of the war now, she didn’t have to hide anything. She was Katara of the Southern Water Tribes, and she didn’t care who knew about it.
“It’s not charity when you need it and when its due,” she insisted bluntly, watching fear and suspicion chase itself over the other woman’s face. “I’d like some information about this place too.”
“So you can invade it with your warriors? I think not!” the innkeeper shrugged her hand off and folded her arms, anger beginning to encroach blackly on her face. “You’ll not get anything out of me, water scum!”
The inn was small, and so Katara wasn’t surprised when she suddenly felt what seemed like a million eyes pierce her skin. She clenched her teeth. This wasn’t going nearly as well as she thought it would. The woman continued, her voice rising.
“The war may be over, but that doesn’t mean that we’ll surrender to the likes of you and the traitor Prince! We’ll keep our homes and our freedom, thank you very much and I...”
“Stop it!” Katara yelled. The woman froze and the anger thawed away to be replaced by fear as the girl in front of her seemed to grow. “How can you say such things? Zuko would never do anything like that, and neither would I!”
This time, the room went completely silent. Katara bunched her fists and whirled around, glaring right back at all the people staring at her. Well, she’d already blown it and was likely to be run out of town in the next few seconds... it wasn’t as if she had anything else left to lose. “Why are you even thinking such things? The Water Tribe doesn’t want any of the Fire Nation, we just wanted the war to end! And Zuko! Why on earth would he want to hurt his own people?”
An old man who she hadn’t seen before stood up in the far corner of the inn, his eyes glittering with something indescribable. “The traitor prince allied with the Avatar. Betrayed and dishonoured his country. How can we know what he will do next?”
It was a challenge, but Katara didn’t even hear the hatred in his voice, so wrapped up was she in her own anger. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? Because believe me, the Zuko I know would never do that! Sure he can be an angry jerk. And as for betrayal? Believe me, I know,” she laughed humourlessly. She’d forgiven, but that didn’t mean that sometimes it still didn’t hurt. “But everything that he’s ever done has been for you people! He didn’t betray the Fire Nation, he helped the Fire Nation by helping the Avatar! Don’t you see?” she looked at the blank, hate-filled, uncomprehending faces around her and wished she could scream. “Look at you! I don’t know what’s wrong with this town, but what you’re all suffering through isn’t Zuko’s fault. It’s Ozai’s! It’s the war’s! It’s the war that’s done this to you, that’s taken away your livelihoods and brought this town to its knees, I’ve seen it before! And Zuko helped to stop that. He fought, bled, nearly died for you all so that there could be peace. If anything, he’s on your side and it’s Ozai that you should be afraid of!”
It took her a second to realise that the teapots closest to her had shattered, spilling their tepid contents over the floor. The sight of them seemed to bring Katara back to her senses. Well. She was doing well for herself. I just yelled at basically an entire town of Fire Nation people two days after the war. Good job, Katara. That will help them get rid of their hatred. Now they probably think all Water Tribe people are crazy as well.
Katara looked around, saw the frozen expressions on everyone’s faces, and prepared herself to be run out of town, likely with pitchforks and other pointy objects. And then there was the husk of a voice clearing behind her, and the innkeeper spoke again.
“Lee, take the young lady up to her room, please.”
It was as if the words were magic. Suddenly, everyone was moving again, clearly avoiding her gaze and settling back to their tables. At her side, the Fire Nation boy moved silently towards a narrow staircase that obviously took them up to the second level. She hesitated, torn between two warring halves of her instinct, and then deliberately chose the weaker, her chin strong and proud.
“Here,” she said to the innkeeper, her voice loud enough to carry to all corners of the room. “For the teapots. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break them.”
And then she swept up after Lee, no hint of any weakness in her step, and she knew that they all watched her as she went.
All except for the Lee’s mother, who stared at the two gold coins in her palm with pained eyes.
8 8 8
Come on, water, work with me here!
8 8 8
Lee was silent as he took her up the stairs, the old wood creaking beneath them. It opened up into a narrow corridor, small rooms branching off to the side. He gestured to the closest door on the right and she entered, him following close behind her.
The doorway opened into a tiny but cosy little place, the bed in the corner taking up most of the room. There was a chest of drawers beside it, an oil lamp that sat on its top. It seemed very much to be like the rest of the inn; old but clean, and she sank into the promising softness of the bed gratefully.
“Thanks for everything, Lee,” she said, looking away from him. She felt him hovering in the doorway, uncertain, and then he straightened his shoulders and stepped in.
“Do you really know Fire Lord Zuko?” he asked quietly.
She started. Fire Lord Zuko... she’d completely forgotten that tomorrow was the day of his coronation, and suddenly she felt guilt crashing through her. She shouldn’t be here right now, in this forsaken town far away from everyone she loved. She should be back in the Fire Nation helping Zuko, helping Aang, healing Sokka...
“Miss?”
His voice drew her back, and she smiled painfully up at him. “Sorry, what did you say again?”
The young boy looked at her silently, and then, “Do you really know Fire Lord Zuko? Are you... are you really the Avatar’s waterbender?”
Katara shoved away all the guilt into a little compartment at the back of her mind, promising herself that she’d deal with it later. “Yes, I do, and yes I was,” she said tiredly. “Why?”
He bit his lip, and then... “Could you tell me what happened two days ago in the Agni Kai arena?”
He looked so uncertain just standing there, never mind his Fire Nation pride, and so Katara patted the bed next to her and he sank hesitantly down. Then she explained it all to him in a quietly emotionless voice, never glossing over anything, not even Azula’s death. She owed the princess that much, never mind that she still wasn’t planning on dealing with it anytime soon.
When she was done, she glanced back to the boy, expecting to see the hatred downstairs reflected on his face. But instead, there was a smile, and she was taken aback.
“Lee?”
He swallowed, his gold eyes intense. “I knew it,” he said huskily, proudly. “I knew that Tako was right.”
“Tako?”
“My cousin,” he explained, and this time when he looked at her she saw neither fear nor worry. “He sent word back yesterday about what had happened, he was one of the chosen people in the arena who survived.”
Who survived... it was Katara’s turn to swallow. There had been so many people she hadn’t been able to save. “What did he say?”
“What you just told us. The Prince Zuko wasn’t like he seemed, that he’d been honourable. When my mother heard, when the people downstairs heard they wouldn’t believe it. Especially not Pauzon. That’s why he was asking you about what Fire Lord Zuko would do next. But now we know it’s all right, because you were there too! You...” his eyes went huge as the implications sunk it. “You were more than just there.”
“You could say that,” Katara looked down at her feet. But Lee didn’t seem to have noticed.
“Wow, I can’t believe I ever thought I could steal from you,” he grinned, and when she looked up at him she laughed, the humour infectious.
“Well let that be a lesson to you,” she teased. “Appearances can be deceiving.”
The boy pulled back as if looking at her for the first time again, and then his grin grew wide. “You’re real pretty,” the boy said decisively, and as she blushed he continued. “You know, they call you Lady Katara. Even though we’ve heard all along about how you were the Avatar’s waterbender, they still called you Lady Katara.”
“Um... thanks?” she wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but being called a lady couldn’t be too bad, could it? He grinned again and then hopped off the bed.
“Anyway, I’d better be going back now to help my mother. Come down when you’re ready for dinner!”
She almost reached out for him, too much of a duck-chicken to re-enter the lion-wolf’s den. But he was already gone, and she lay herself tiredly back on the bed...
...
After Paoi had left, she’d stayed huddled in the snow for a while, torn between blazing out and crying for real. And then Gran-Gran had come looking for her, and although she’d known the scolding was on the tip of her tongue, she also knew the moment that her grandmother had sensed something was wrong.
It hadn’t taken much to spill out the story. Just a few gentle prods. And then her anguish and the unfairness of it all came coming out.
Gran-Gran knelt there patiently amongst the ice, her old eyes laden with so much wisdom it was almost painful. Katara finally stopped sobbing, her tears almost freezing on her cheeks as she nestled into her Grandmother’s embrace. And then, when the silence was but complete except for the soft sigh of snow falling, she spoke.
“Katara... there are many things that aren’t fair in the world. And as you grow, you’ll find more and more of them.”
“But that’s terrible!” she stamped her foot. “What am I supposed to do, just let it happen?”
“Some things we cannot change.”
“But then what’s the point to living?” she cried out, her thin voice a piping reed in the icy wilderness, the sound clawed away by the wind that was slowly beginning to pick up around them. “What’s the point when it’s just more terrible things that we can’t fix, and more bad things that happen?”
The old woman didn’t say anything for a long, long time. And in that space that stretched out to the distance, Katara thought of her mother, thought of how she’d been there and then she’d just... gone. She thought of creeping out of the tent one night, following the tracks and then finding her father on his knees facing the moon, the echoes of his anguished cries reverberating across the ice. She thought of Sokka fishing her out of the sea when she fell, thought of sea prunes and jelly not cooked by her mother. She thought of how she was the last waterbender in the South Pole.
Fresh tears leaked out one by one, and then Gran-Gran spoke again, and it was “Hush Katara. Don’t cry. There is always a time for crying, but now is not the time.”
She sniffed. She hiccoughed through tears. “Why?”
Gran-Gran’s free hand had found her own, and her mittens had clutched the fingers beneath tightly. “Because now is the moment that you learn that even amidst all the pain, all the unfairness, life can also bring hope. Because for every time we find something we can’t change, there’s another instance where we can. Where it’s not impossible.”
“How can you tell the difference?”
The old woman laughed. It sounded more like a sob amidst the howling wind. “You can’t. That’s why you have to always try. That’s what’s important. That you’ll always try, you’ll always dream, and you’ll always recognised and make the choice to act when it comes to you.”
Her voice was tiny. “What choice?”
And Gran-Gran hoisted her up to her feet and then up, and Katara clung around her shoulders and buried her face into her grandmother’s neck as they began the walk home. “All choice. Any choice,” Gran-Gran whispered into her granddaughter’s ear. “You can’t define it, Katara, because when the time comes, you’ll find out that the choice can span the entire world, from Pole to Pole. Because every land is touched by water.”
...
“Every land is touched by water,” she murmured, her eyes closed and seeing black. “What does that mean, what does that...?”
For a moment, Katara felt the oddest sensation, as if she were falling through nothingness. Reflexively, she jerked up again. Where was she?
Oh, right. The Moonrise inn. Katara’s tired eyes found the bed underneath her and she sighed. She’d drifted off, how surprising was that? Although from the twilight outside, it couldn’t have been for long...
Katara sighed again, and looked longingly at the pillow. She could have just curled up right then and there and nodded off back to sleep. She could have gone outside to the communal bath room and bathed. But hunger and... something else. An absence of fear. Yes, hunger and an absence of fear won over sleep, cleanliness, and sadness, and eventually Katara pushed herself off the bed and made her way back down to the taproom for dinner.
8 8 8
I’m not leaving. I’m not giving up on these people.
8 8 8
There was a silence when she finally stepped into the room, but somehow she wasn’t surprised. Lady Katara, she thought to herself grimly. They call me Lady Katara, and absurdly, that gave her enough strength to lift her chin high, find an empty seat in a not too crowded corner, and wait to be served. An old yellowed sheet lay on the table in front of her, its faded print declaring that Nioka’s Moonrise Inn welcomed all and sundry to dine. She smiled wistfully at it, and then glanced up to see Lee’s mother herself coming towards her.
The innkeeper bore a bowl of thick soup balanced on top of a plate with two pieces of bread on it, and a yellowish-white lump that she recognised with joy as butter. The cutlery was neatly stacked on the other side of the bowl, and Katara was already salivating when it was set down in front of her,
“Here, start off with this,” Nioka said, not unkindly.
Katara accepted the steaming soup with a nod and thanks, and the innkeeper left. For an instant, the more paranoid part of her mind wondered if it’d been poisoned, and then she brushed it aside and picked up the spoon. She’d seen Nioka ladle it up from a communal pot, and she doubted that the innkeeper was willing to kill all of her guests just for one girl. A quiet voice rose up and told her that the innkeeper could have slipped it in later, but she shook her head and dipped the spoon into the stew. Acting like this would never do. Less than ten minutes ago she had been yelling at the woman, and now she was being given food and shelter instead of being run out of town like she probably deserved. Welcome to Nioka’s Moonrise Inn, the placemat said. At the very least, she couldn’t fault their hospitality, and so she resolved herself to abstain from any more stupid thoughts of fear. Bravely, she reached in and opened her mouth, and then...
“HOT!” she yelped, and someone next to her uttered a loud, hearty laugh. She was too busy sputtering and wiping tears away from her eyes to see who it was, and then a gentle but firm hand guided hers to a cup she hadn’t noticed, and she took a long swallow of tea. It soothed the fire on her tongue for a moment, whatever herbs and leaves in there clearly concocted for the task, and she sighed in relief.
“Thank you,” she said sheepishly, wiping her eyes as she turned to her saviour. And then she froze.
It was the old man from before, the one who had spoken for the entire room as he’d listed out Zuko’s perceived crimes. A vague memory drifted up from just before. What had Lee called him? Pauzon? Her gaze turned wary as she studied him. He had a broad, open face lined with years, accentuated by the silver and grey strands mixing on his head. A rough piece of string circled his neck, whatever it was carrying lost amongst the big bushy beard spilling down to about midway down his chest. She could see how he was a farmer... he was certainly thickset enough to be one. But as she looked at him she realised that even if he had farmed, he would have had to have stopped working long ago because even sitting, he seemed stooped with arthritis. Still, he was no longer a mask of hate before her, there was just a strange distanced quality to his eyes, not unfriendly, but not friendly either. She wondered at how this was going to turn out.
“You’re welcome,” he responded to her, his voice deep and gravelly with chewed tobacco. Then he gestured back to her plate.
“You’re meant to wait until it cools down a little first. Then alternate bites between the soup and the bread or tea. Both the butter and the drink will help with the bite.”
“Thank you,” she repeated, real gratitude weighing down her voice as she inclined her head towards him. The deference was near instinctive - they’d travelled long enough in the Fire Nation to know some of the customs now, and in the Water Tribes elders had always been respected. Still, she turned back towards her meal slowly enough to see his eyebrow quirk in surprise.
Well, this was going to be interesting. Just don’t yell at him again, and I’m sure it’ll be fine.
Katara picked up her spoon again and set her shoulders, readying herself. Now that she knew what to expect, she was more hesitant about her mouthfuls. Her outburst had been more shock than anything... the chilli levels weren’t above her tolerance. But combined with a still-steaming temperature and an unfortunately large mouthful that contained two of them, Katara was wise to be wary. This time she stirred the soup through, then cooled it with her breath before sipping tentatively. Her mouth was still tingling from the last bite, but as she ate slowly she began to appreciate the flavours. It was very, very different from stewed sea prunes on an iceberg, but there was an almost intoxicating richness to it that rushed down to her belly and spread warmth throughout her limbs. The measured sips of tea and shreds of buttered bread only drew out the tastes; she managed to identify cow-pig, and also a strange combination of rosemary and basil that set off the chilli surprisingly well.
“You’re lucky. This is Nioka’s specialty, she only makes it once a week.”
Katara paused, spoon raised halfway to her appreciative mouth, and mentally downgraded the status of the situation from interesting to awkward. “I am lucky,” she agreed, settling the spoon down and angling herself towards her neighbour. “It’s delicious.”
“Yes,” Pauzon said, and gestured towards the rest of the taproom. “That’s why most of the town is here tonight. Then again, there is not much place else we can go or do. And these days you never know if each day might be your last.”
Katara’s ears pricked, and she carefully swallowed down the rest of her soup, arranging her cutlery neatly in the empty bowl and wiping her mouth with the roughly folded napkin at the side. There was still a faint burn in her mouth, and so she lifted her cup in one hand, ready to sip. “What do you mean?” she asked.
He watched her inscrutably, just like she was watching him. “You are both right and wrong, you know,” he said. “I don’t know how much Lee has told you. The war has treated us unkindly, it is true... decades ago on a night like this there would be performances in the streets and crowds and economy to match. And we’re certainly a lot poorer than we used to be. But in the last year, it’s changed. Now, most of our produce goes to the soldiers in the mountains. Without that reliable revenue, we would be even more worse off.”
Katara looked around at the drawn faces, the pinched looks of worry that stretched skin back over bone, and then back to him. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” she asked quietly. “You people seem like you’re afraid of something. What is it?”
The old man put down his cup and hunched slightly over the table. “It is strange to think that we have an uneasy relationship with our own soldiers,” he mused aloud, as if just talking about the weather. “And yet, these ones seem different. What are they doing out here in the mountains? Why aren’t they in the capitol or the Earth Kingdom? It is a strange strategy to deploy one’s troops in one’s own lands when one keeps saying that the war has almost been won, isn’t it?” Pauzon shrugged. “Then again, I’m no strategist. But I don’t need to be. Most of them have been downright unfriendly every time they’ve come down here to buy stuff, and some families were even beginning to consider replacing the sons in the fields with the women so at least our girls aren’t threatened. And then yesterday we found the first lot of wreckage.”
Katara drew her breath in like a hiss. “What?”
“Houses, we think. Or what used to be. Just shreds of wood now, useless to anyone. But they were mostly burnt.”
“A natural fire?” Katara asked uncertainly, and then regretted it the instant he fixed his glare on her. It felt like a schoolteacher reprimanding a slow student, and she shrivelled back into her seat. Then again, what had she been thinking? It was the Fire Nation they were talking about after all. Any natural fire that started could be put out in a blink if there was a firebender around.
“It must have drifted down from upstream, perhaps for a day or more. This is the main river on the island after all... most of our towns and villages are built close or even on it. Which means that one of them was probably attacked two or three days ago.”
“But by who?”
Pauzon didn’t seem to have heard her, but when he spoke he answered anyway. “Well, most of the Firebenders are in the army. And we know now that it wasn’t either the traitor Prince or the Avatar, since that was when you were fighting Fire Lord Ozai. So...”
A sudden anger filled her at the implications. “Oh, so now you know that it wasn’t either Zuko or Aang? You shouldn’t have thought like that in the first place! I’ve never seen either of them kill anyone... it’s... it’s just not in them, especially Aang. We.... we’ve always tried to deal with things as peacefully as possible. Aang couldn’t even bring himself to kill the Fire Lord! I mean, he’s an Air Nomad for La’s sake... the Fire Nation wiped out his people, not the other way around! How can you accuse him of killing anyone?”
Pauzon’s golden eyes, sharp as a dragon’s, glittered. “What do you think happened when the Avatar destroyed most of our fleet at the North Pole?” he snapped, a low growl in his throat. “You’re a Water Tribeswoman. You tell me how far men can swim weighed down in armour and in arctic water.”
Katara put her cup down like it had just burnt her and swallowed. “Oh.”
Oh.
The look of horror on her face must have appeased him, or at least done something, because when he sat back, his face was no longer hard, just exhausted. “But then, that’s neither here nor there, is it?” he asked softly. “What we’re afraid of now is our own people. I’ve no doubt in my mind that it was the soldiers in the mountains who’ve done it, for whatever reason. And the leads me to the question, Miss Katara. What does the traitor prince plan to do next?”
She opened her mouth, ready to tell him. He plans to rebuild the Fire Nation. He plans to restore the Fire Nation’s honour. He plans to find his mother. He plans to survive. But nothing came out. Things could have changed in the day since she’d left. Enough had changed in the second after Azula had died for Katara to appreciate how intransigent and unrelenting time was. Once it passed, you could never take it back.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But what I do know of Zuko is that he loves the Fire Nation.” Possibly to the point of stupidity. It’s the only thing that explains how someone like him with... with a... good heart, could ever have made the choices he did. “And that means that he would never attack his own people like that.”
Pauzon let out an unimpressed snort, but at least the old man wasn’t spitting fire. “Well, we’ll have to see then,” he said gruffly. “I only hope that good fortune and grace be on our side.”
A hand came up from beneath to grip something around his neck, a good luck charm perhaps, the cord lifting through the tendrils of beard. If Katara hadn’t been watching so closely, she would have missed the flash of white and red. As it was, it took a few seconds for her to process what she’d seen, and then...
“Pauzon! May... may I see that?”
The old farmer startled and uncovered his hand instinctively, and that was when Katara’s fingers darted forwards to save the wooden medallion from sinking back into his beard. But it wasn’t the medallion itself that she was interested in, it was the figure carved and inked onto it.
The picture was clearly an angled image of a woman in battle stance, enough strands of her hair corded back to keep the rest of it out of her face, but the rest of her tresses flowing down around her neck and shoulders. Under the rope that was tied closely over her shoulders to allow her arms free movement, her over-shawl and sleeves were the purple of royalty. The dress beneath spilled down to almost mid-calf, the carved material stylistically voluminous and yet still split for convenience up to the waist. Katara could see flared out pants beneath and worn leather shoes.
But that wasn’t what had caught her eye. Oh no. Slowly, she let her gaze travel upwards. There were clear differences - the style of the clothing was close, but adapted to the owner’s combative stance. The hair wasn’t loose, but had just enough braids to keep anything from flying into her face. The hat and the veil was tied to her back, the latter cascading gauzily down to around mid-thigh... leaving her moon-white face ethereal, shining and free beneath the red paint and the crescent sun.
“The Painted Lady,” she whispered. “But how...?”
Pauzon suddenly smiled, and it seemed to take years off his grizzled countenance. “You know of the Painted Lady?”
Katara nodded and traced the outline of this woman, so different and yet so much the same. “I do. I was travelling in a village downstream of here... but she was different. They said she was a river spirit who protected their town, but it seemed she was mostly a healer... or, or something.”
“Ah yes,” Pauzon nodded sagely. “I know the town you speak of, but the Painted Lady certainly isn’t as specific as that! No... you travel up and down this river, and let me tell you, it’s quite a journey, and you’ll see as many Painted Ladies as there are towns. Of course, the legends differ a little depending where you are. As you can see here, our river spirit isn’t so much a healer as... a guardian, a warrioress of sorts, I suppose.”
Katara felt as if her heart was in her breath. “Tell me more?” she asked eagerly, and she watched with amazement as golden eyes softened, as lines smoothed and the grizzled old farmer actually smiled.
8 8 8
Here’s your chance, earthbenders! Take it, your fate is in your own hands!
8 8 8
Katara woke early, refreshed, but still strangely tired. Despite being able to sleep on a bed instead of the ground, the late, late night lengthened by Pauzon’s stories had somewhat counterbalanced the benefit. She smiled as she sat up, dressed, and began to comb her hair. He’d started off with the Painted Lady and her protection of the travelling merchant caravans from bandits, and then he’d gone on until he’d exhausted his repertoire of stories about the river spirit and began reciting older mythologies. It hadn’t been long before the entire taproom had been enthralled, and the constant requests for this tale and that one had kept them up for hours. And then, after the stories she had offered to walk Pauzon home, since it wasn’t far. They’d passed through the market square, one corner of which was still open. Perhaps it had been Lee’s tale, perhaps it had been Pauzon’s, but she’d found herself buying things, hoping her little contribution to this town’s economy could go further than it seemed. Purple cloth, hessian rope, gauze... if Pauzon had been curious or suspicious, he hadn’t said anything, even though she swore that she had seen a knowing glint in his eyes when she’d finally bade him farewell.
Katara finished brushing her hair and began to bundle the rest of her belongings together. Still, whatever he was thinking, it was completely wrong, she assured herself. She was just inspired, that’s all. And it would do no harm to make a complementary set to the outfit she already owned... it was Pauzon’s fault, anyway. He shouldn’t have made the legends come alive in her mind, shouldn’t have eased the ache deep down below her stomach with his stories. It was his fault if she got lost, she decided with an impish smile. She’d been depending on that roiling ball of uncertainty to guide her to wherever she was going to next. It wasn’t that she didn’t like this town. Certainly, the atmosphere seemed to have warmed up as the night went along. No one mentioned either the Avatar or Zuko again, and she hadn’t brought up her money. And when she’d offered to help Pauzon back, there had even been some approving smiles.
But still, she had to keep moving. Calmed though the uncertainty within her had been, she knew without knowing how that the restlessness would grow soon, the vague feeling of not knowing where to go or what to do would guide her steps out of this town. She was almost sad to see it go.
Katara packed up quickly, she hadn’t bought that much, and made it down in time for breakfast. When she’d finished the refreshingly light concoction of grains, she made her way to the innkeeper and pressed the rejected eight coins from the night before back into her palm.
“Keep it,” she told Nioko quietly. “I mean it. It’ll take some of the weight off while I walk.”
The woman stared at the coins, then raised her eyes slowly to meet the young waterbender’s face. “So you really are travelling by yourself?” Nioko demanded abruptly.
Katara nodded, and the innkeeper harrumphed. “Well, I’d say you should be careful. Tain’t right for a young lady to be travelling alone in these times. Tell you what. After you leave here, you keep travelling on upstream. There’s a great big waterfall a few hours walk from here, although it’s more like three of them one after the other. The ledge between them is a nice safe resting point to the next town over for you, but I wouldn’t keep going on to the next town today. It’ll be dark by then, so just camp yourself there by those waterfalls.”
Naoki turned away, and Katara felt a lump of surprised gratitude well up in her. I was right not to give up on these people. “Thank you,” she said honestly. “So much, for everything. And thank you too, Lee,” she nodded at the boy who was watching her from the kitchen with conflicted eyes. “Thank you.”
“Now, now, you’ve said it enough times,” Nioko began ushering her out the door brusquely. Katara laughed and complied, setting her sights upstream.
“You take care of yourself now!” the innkeeper hollered after her.
8 8 8
It wasn’t the coal, Katara. It was you.
8 8 8
Nioko’s timing wasn’t far off. It took her two hours to reach the falls, another hour to climb the path, and when she got there she was grateful that it hadn’t just been Nioko’s instructions guiding her there. The tightly wound coil of restlessness within her softened when she stepped into the small grassy glade. It was beautiful. There was no other word to describe it.
Exactly three waterfalls cascaded down the mountainside, the frothing cascades of each spilling into a pool of smooth but roiling water before flying over the next drop. Bottle-green vines clung tenaciously to the glistening rocks, their leaves swaying softly in the breeze. The roar of water filled every inch of her hearing, its constancy soothing to her fractured nerves. Katara set her bag down and inhaled, the air rendered sweet and clear by the foaming river and the lowly forested mountain. She could have climbed farther. She knew she could have. She could probably get to the next town if she hurried... but one look at the beauty before her and she knew that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t need to go anywhere that made it so relaxing. Katara smiled, set up her tent, and then began languidly collecting sticks for a fire. The glade itself that she’d chosen was perfectly placed. A small copse of trees surrounded the near perfect circle of grass, just big enough to light a fire safely and set up one tent. From there, the closest pool was less than ten feet away, one side bubbly from the first waterfall, the other slipping and twirling over the edge of the second. She couldn’t believe how perfect it was. She didn’t have to run by a schedule, she didn’t have to run by the fact that she needed to get as far away from the Fire Nation Capitol as possible before her friends tried to follow her. And best of all, the constant roar of the waterfalls and the odd spray of water on her skin was soothing the dull ache inside her. Katara smiled.
She found the spark rocks, lighted the fire, and watched it blaze brightly for a moment before settling down to a more enduring burn. She’d cook dinner on its embers tonight, she decided, looking around at her almost professional campsite. Her smile grew wider. Well, she had had a lot of practice.
But now, the rest of the day stretched ahead of her, and Katara just wanted to play. With a girlish squeal that she was glad nobody could hear, Katara cast away her black ninja garments and her blue overdress, stripping down to her light blue shift. Then she prepared herself for a running leap into the pool, lifting up her body in a graceful pirouette through the sky...
No, not like this.
... and stopped.
Katara brought herself to a halt inches from the mirror-clear edge, sudden confusion crossing her face. What was that? She’d been all ready to have at least an hour of sheer play surrounded by her element, and then a voice had stopped her. And even more weirdly, it hadn’t sounded like her own.
Huh?
Katara frowned and lowered her arms. Slowly, she walked to the edge of the pool until she could see her own wavy reflection. It stared back at her, just as confused, over a bed of smoothly eroded rock.
Time seemed to elongate slowly, like a ribbon of water drawn through the air, and so Katara couldn’t tell how long she’d been standing there studying her own reflection before she began to notice the tiny currents in the pool. But when she did, she instantly bent closer, fascinated. She’d never really studied the movement of water like this, and certainly not against such a grand backdrop.
The force from the first waterfall pounded down on the rippled veneer, sending currents of water straight down into the deep end of the pool. From there, the currents were pushed to the edge by the water coming down behind it, sending white crests across the surface. And then the force of gravity and the push of the next fall pulled the water back to the middle, creating brief swirling vortexes before her eyes.
And suddenly, Katara realised that the pull deep within her, the eddying, restless force that had guided her steps and drained her energy, seemed to be pulsing in time to the water in front of her. Eyes wide, she stared at the rushing river. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but suddenly the questions that had been haunting her flooded back with a vengeance.
Why am I here?
What do I do now?
What do I want?
Katara stared as hard as she could down at the water, as if its rippling depths somehow held the answer. And somewhere, at the sketchy edges of her consciousness, she heard a light, bubbling chuckle. It does.
If Katara had been completely clear headed, she would have likely hidden behind a Sokka-ism and dismissed it as her going crazy. As it was, though, the crash of the waterfalls, the rush of the waterfall, and the ache deep inside of her throbbed as one, and without knowing why, Katara found herself sitting down, crossing her legs into the lotus position, resting her hands on her knees, her eyes never leaving the water in front of her.
And then Katara took a deep breath and tried to still herself. It was funny... in all the time she’d travelled with the Gaang, she’d never tried to meditate. It had seemed unnatural to her to sit so still, when there was so much to do, so much to take care of. But she’d seen its effects on both Aang and Zuko, and she could feel the appeal of it now, as something heavy and soft swept over her body like a blanket. She had time. She had plenty of time, days that could stretch out into weeks and maybe even months.
It couldn’t hurt.
So she sat cross-legged by the waterfall, her palms upturned on her knees, ready to slip into a state that might just enlighten her.
But nothing happened.
Five minutes later, Katara opened an annoyed eye and glanced around. Beneath her, one leg was going asleep and she shifted to allow the blood to flow again. She felt a bunching of cloth and wrinkled her nose. Maybe that was it. Maybe the Spirit World didn’t like anyone entering when they had their monthly cycle? She wondered what spirit blood would be like, and whether it was hard to get the stains out...
Katara shook her head. Wow, off-track, much? It wasn’t good that she was alone, she decided abruptly. It wasn’t helping. She just wasn’t used to it. She couldn’t concentrate, she didn’t know anything except that the swirling energy in her stomach was still pent up, still making her and her world jumpy and uncertain.
She wished she had someone to talk to.
Katara bolted up at that thought, her eyes narrowing. What was she thinking? That was the purpose of this entire trip, wasn’t it? She needed time by herself... time she hadn’t had since... well, forever. The Water Tribe was a close knit community, there was always something to do and someone to do it with. If it wasn’t chores, it was playing amongst the snow and the prized sunlight. And then of course, her mother had left... Katara felt a small tightening at her throat... and then her father, and with each of their departures there was more and more to do and more and more years added to her that didn’t need to be. Only fourteen... and yet she knew things that people three times her age shouldn’t have to know.
And then, of course, Aang had come along. And after that it was months, a year, of taking care of them all, of making sure that everyone was fed and warm and the tents were up, of healing injuries and soothing hurts less physical. But most importantly of all, in her mind, was the knowledge that grew as they’d journeyed that if anyone was to threaten her family, they sure as hell had something coming to them. Because no one messed with a waterbending master’s family and got away with it.
Katara let a small, weary smile cross her face, a smile that had far more to do with those whirlwind months than her few hours of sleep that morning. Ironically enough, the most time she’d gone alone during that time had probably been that night or day or whatever it was down in the Crystal Caverns. She’d had enough time to storm, to rage, to worry and to beat her useless fists against stone to last her a lifetime.
And then, the being-alone had ended, of course. By the arrival of a certain confused Fire Prince.
Katara shook her head and laughed. Strangely enough, it felt freeing. For the first time since she’d left the palace, she could sense the hugeness of the world around her. Spread out before her and the pool at her feet, the Fire Nation sprawled out into the distance, its borders marked by a rim of ocean blue. If she stared hard enough, she could almost see the adjoining islands that made up the country, each promising new and different paths. And around her, the roaring, heady waterfalls themselves spoke of the giant river that would its way throughout this main island and out to the entire ocean, the water extending a glimmering hand to her like a silent promise that she’d never felt as a small, helpless little girl in the South Pole.
Katara’s smile widened and without realising it her eyes fell closed, naturally. It didn’t matter why she’d chosen this. Fate and Destiny didn’t rule her life any more. No Avatar’s journey, no desperate fighting, no war dictated her path. She was Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, and she could choose her own way from here.
Amidst the rushing and thundering of the water, the freshness of the earth-scented air, the warmth of her tiny campfire and behind her closed eyelids, Katara suddenly saw a black and white flicker that matched the eddies of water she’d been studying earlier. Startled, she tried to concentrate on its blurriness, tried to make out exactly what it was. Slowly, a memory rose within her, both of sight and sound as she saw water and circling koi fish and heard a faint echo of Aang’s voice, telling them what it had been like to enter the Spirit World so consciously that first time...
Katara felt a slow languidness steal over her body, a breath that seemed divorced from her actual flesh. Before her, the colours spun slower and slower, closer and closer to a rhythm that she couldn’t control. At the very back of her mind, the part that was still conscious, she realised that she couldn’t stop what was happening even if she wanted to, even if she tried. A minute ago she might have panicked. What did she know about the Spirit World except that it was dangerous, that it held both guides like past lives and loved ones and unspeakable terrors like Koh?
But it didn’t matter. Katara watched the swirling colours and felt no fear. Because even though she had gone off on a journey to nowhere, even though she was alone and uncertain of what she was going to do next, and even though she was about to enter into a dangerous, unknown realm that she had no power or control over... she had never felt stronger in her life.
Katara breathed in, and then out. Unseen by her, the quickly rushing water in the river beside her followed her flow. And at that moment, just before she slipped into the mesmerising circling of yin and yang, if Katara had opened her eyes she would have seen the faint blue flicker of a young Fire Nation girl sitting besides her, her legs swinging freely over the rock.
