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Sokka laid back on his mat, and felt something sharp poke into the back of his head. With a disdained sigh, he lifted the mat up, brushed away the particularly pointy rock under it, and then tried to lie down again only to be just as uncomfortable.

“This is the worst beach ever” he complained out loud, sitting back up again. Katara, Aang and Toph had all also arranged their sleeping mats around the campfire, and were all also still wide awake. Plumped down behind Aang, Appa was at least sleeping soundly.

“I think it’s the best,” Toph challenged.

“There’s no sand! Only all these rocks.”

“Exactly!”

“It’s not that bad,” Katara tried to appease her brother in the calmest voice she could muster, when she could hardly argue that the shoreline definitely belonged on their ‘top ten worst spots to stop at because Appa was desperate for rest’.

Momo crawled down off Aang’s shoulder to pick up a colourful rock. He tried to bite into it, then threw it away in disgust over it not, in fact, being a piece of fruit.

“See? Even Momo agrees with me,” Sokka argued. “Couldn’t we find somewhere in the trees at least? With real ground?”

“We’re not waking Appa up just to find a new spot, right Aang?” Katara looked to the boy next to her.

Aang remained curled up with his head rested in his knees, still in his swimming trunks, staring at the fire. After a moment, he nodded his head. Katara and Sokka exchanged looks over the strange behaviour, and Sokka shrugged. Aang was probably going through a brooding moment. With the whole Day of the Black Sun thing getting closer and closer, it wasn’t all that hard to understand why.

“Well, I can’t sleep, so what d’you suppose we do?”

“We could check out that big thing over there,” Toph pointed in the vague direction behind Sokka, while digging her toes deeper into the rocks.

“What thing?”

“Dunno. Something big. Metal.”

“I think I see a light,” Katara stood up, looking at where Toph was pointing, which prompted Sokka to turn around too. Though night had only just fallen, it was already very dark. Even with the moon almost at its fullest, they could barely make out what Toph was sensing at a distance, aside from a small, dim light.

“Let’s go then,” Toph jumped up with Katara as well.

“Now hold on,” Sokka held up his hands, “what if it’s a Fire Nation ship or something?”

“Then we should definitely go find out what it is,” Toph argued, and began walking forward.

Katara looked down to notice Aang had still not moved, aside from now clutching his chest. Sweat was dripping down off his short fuzzy hair. “Aang?”

“I don’t feel so good…”

The gang watched in horror as Aang fell over to the side, gasping for air.

“Aang!”

Katara pushed Aang over onto his backside and pulled a stream of ocean water into her hands. She hastily began coaxing all the water’s life into the still gasping Avatar, the glow emitted fluttering to almost a blinding light, and yet Aang remained suffering.

“Why isn’t it working?” Toph asked, her and Sokka hovering over them.

Katara roared in frantic frustration. “I don’t know!”

“I don’t understand,” Aang choked out between heavy breaths.

“Just hold on, Aang!”

“We need to get help.”

“Where?” Katara snapped back at her brother, still trying to desperately flood vitality into Aang’s chest, and yet her arms were quaking.

“Big metal thing.” Toph didn’t leave room to argue. She stomped down on the ground and a disc shot up around them, then without so much as a warning of ‘hold on’, she closed her fists and yanked backwards. The disc flew across the seaside, sending all the tiny rocks that hadn’t already fallen off flying backwards and hitting Appa. The sky bison grumbled, saw the skating rock leaving in the distance with Momo gliding behind it, and began the chase as well.

The big metal thing turned out to be a fairly large boat, a fishing vessel perhaps, with a large chunk of its side caved in. The rest of the old boat wasn’t in much better condition, patched together with various shaped and coloured scrap metal. Within the hole of the boat’s side was a silhouette holding up a lantern.

As the rock got closer, Sokka and Katara repeatedly called out. “Help! We need help! We need a healer!”

The figure that had begun to back away stepped out of the boat again. It was an elderly woman in a simple dress and shawl over her shoulders, with her long white hair crisp from the salty air. Her warm olive skin was wrinkled and spotted with age.

Toph bent down on one knee and pressed her hands flat onto the rock, stopping it in a jerky motion that nearly threw Sokka off. He stumbled but managed to catch himself before falling into the elderly woman. Instead of looking at Sokka though, she locked eyes with Katara and her lips moved, something too quiet to hear but unmistakably in shock, before calming herself.

“We need a healer! How far away is your town?” Sokka asked, his words strung together in a rush. At this point, Aang had stopped gasping and gone still. “Our friend is hurt!”

The woman looked to Aang. “Last I heard he was dead.”

Sokka, Katara and Toph all exchanged horrified looks upon the realization that Aang’s sacred tattoos were fully apparent; something they neglected to think of in the urgency. But instead of running or screaming or attempting to strike them, the elderly woman set down her lantern and kneeled over him, opposite of Katara. The three watched her shoo away the water with a swish, much to their astonishment, and then place her outstretched hand down on Aang’s chest. She closed her eyes and dug her nails into his skin, earning a confused and concerned gasp from Katara, but in another moment, Aang’s dark brown eyes shot open, and he inhaled a giant breath of air. Katara covered her face from the gust of wind from his exhale, and when she lowered it again, Aang was seated up, looking in a daze.

“Aang!” Katara hugged him, which despite the confusion he welcomed warmly.

A moment of silence passed, until all four children looked at the strange woman. “You’re a Waterbender? Out here?” Sokka finally voiced, the first of many questions they all had on their minds.

Katara pulled back from Aang to meet the eyes of his saviour. “What did you do?” she asked as well.

“I healed him.”

“His heart almost stopped,” Toph said in a plain demeanor unfitting of such a statement. “I heard it, then whatever you did, it was all normal again. Not even Katara can do that.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t sell your friend short,” she hummed. “I doubt I’d have been able to repair the damage at all, had she not kept him together.”

“Um, excuse me,” Aang finally piped up, “would anyone mind telling me what just happened? What do you mean my heart stopped?”

“Almost,” Toph corrected.

The old woman grunted as she pulled herself off her knees, then brushed at the front of her dress. “It’s certainly unusual for a boy your age to have such weak arteries. I imagine it has something to do with whatever caused that,” she pointed at the prominent scar on his chest.

“But I healed him,” Katara defended. “Everything was fine until just now!”

“You haven’t felt any pain before?” The woman asked Aang.

He looked down and dipped his head low. “I mean, it hurts sometimes, sure… but not like… that.”

“They’ve been telling many stories about your grand demise, Avatar. Healing from a blow like that is a wonder in itself.” At that, she gave Katara an impressed glance. “The side effects are another thing entirely. No one walks away clean from a lightning strike…” The woman trailed off, and looked down. In an obvious effort to change the subject, when she lifted her head again, it was with a smile. “My name is Hama. I have an inn nearby, why don't you come back there for some spiced tea and warm beds?”

“We wouldn’t want to impose...”

“Nonsense. It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to speak to anyone else from the Southern Water Tribe.”

Both Katara and Sokka’s mouths dropped agape.

Well. It was hard to say no to her offer after that.

⁂

The gang followed Hama up a worn down path from the old boat. Aang had changed back into his school boy disguise, and was looking rather worn out, barely dragging his feet. Katara offered her arm as support for Hama as they ascended up a steeper, rocky incline. Sokka walked in the rear with Toph, squinting his eyes suspiciously at the back of Hama’s head.

“I’d offer my shed to your large friend here,” Hama tilted her head behind her shoulder towards Appa, shuffling along behind them, “but I’m afraid my son has far too many dangerous tools inside. Best not to go in.”

“You have a son?” Katara asked, and Hama nodded.

“What were you doing out on the beach all by yourself at night?” Sokka ignored the conversation at hand.

Despite the abruptness, Hama looked up at the sky, and answered after a moment’s pause. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go for a walk. I thought I’d check out my son’s boat.”

“Didn’t look like it’s been used in a while.”

She gave a slight chuckle. “No, no it hasn’t… he’s a good man, my son. But he’s poured every bit of coin to his name into fixing that old thing, thinking someday he’ll get it on the water.”

As they reached the end of the path into the yard of a homely but large building, complimented with a shed to its back, a man burst out the front door and came running down towards them.

“Mother! Where have you been?” he called, then upon reaching them, gripped her shoulders tightly. He looked to be a little younger than Katara and Sokka’s father, with long dark brown hair pulled into a knot, sandy skin, and amber eyes. “You can’t keep wandering at night like this!”

“Your mother saved my life,” Aang defended Hama, stepping out from behind her.

“…How… The Avatar?!” The man’s wide eyes went back and forth between Aang and Hama as he stammered, who smiled at her son apologetically.

“My son, Miki,” Hama introduced him with a wave. Miki looked to the rest of the children, then back at the Avatar, then back at his mother, then finally rested his gaze at Appa.

“…Let’s get you inside,” he said with a nervous gulp, as if Appa was about to swallow him hole.

Water Tribe as Hama may have claimed to be, the spiced tea her son served around the kitchen table was all Fire Nation. It was hot and flavourful, warming from the inside out. Toph commented on how her parents didn’t like her drinking anything too hot in fear burning her tongue, while enthusiastically downing her drink and slamming the cup down on the table. Katara held up her pointer finger and opened her mouth, ready to scold her on manners, before deciding against it. Hama and Miki both seemed to find her behaviour to be adorable, Hama even snickering a bit under her breath.

Miki asked Sokka if he was any good with the sword leaning up against the wall with the rest of the belongings they took inside, which led Sokka to straighten up his back and quote Master Piandao’s praise for his creativity and wisdom.

Katara tried to think of the politest way to ask, but by the time the small talk simmered down, she still wasn’t sure. Nonetheless, she had to confirm what she thought. “Hama, when you first saw me, you said something under your breath I didn’t quite catch. But after you said you were from our tribe, I think I know.” The table all turned their eyes to Hama, who wanted for Katara to continue with a small smile. “You called me ‘Kanna’. Our Gran-Gran’s name.”

Hana’s smile sunk, and her dark grey eyes fell down at her hands cupping her empty cup. Miki reached out with a supportive hand. “You look just like her. Or at least how I remember her; it was a long time ago that I last saw Kanna…”

“What made you leave the village?”

“I didn’t leave,” she stressed. “…Every time ash rained from the sky, I was forced to think, which of my brothers and sisters will I lose this time? Or will it finally be me that they take? And then one day, it was.”

Hama recounted her experience of the Southern Water Tribe raids by the Fire Nation. How once, the village was a thriving community, one where any hardship seemed inconsequential when by working together, they could overcome anything. But then the Fire Nation attacked, again and again. The invaders torched their homes, destroyed their food preserves, killed their warriors and stole their Waterbenders. No age, skill or condition was above death or capture.

Sokka and Katara gripped each other’s hands tightly as Hama painted such a vivid picture that was all too familiar, while Aang wondered how similar the horrors were that his people must have faced in their last days. Toph quietly scratched into the wood of the table uncomfortably.

“They put us in terrible prisons here in the Fire Nation. I was the only one who managed to escape.”

“How did you get away?” Sokka asked.

Hama closed her eyes tightly. “I'm sorry. It’s too painful to talk about any more right now…”

“Its fine, mother,” Miki encouraged, rubbing her hands folded on the table.

“It is,” Katara nodded. “We completely understand. We lost our mother in a raid.”

“I’m sorry,” Miki expressed his sympathy.

“As am I,” Hama nodded. “My dear Kanna… I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child…” she looked to Miki, who removed his hand from hers, and a sullen air hung between them for a second. A story the children were not privy too, and yet another thing Sokka thought was odd. He watched closely at Miki’s vexed expression that he looked away with, while Hama turned back to Katara.

“You must have had to travel to the North to learn your Waterbending skills.”

Katara nodded. “I learned a lot while we were there, yes. Although, much more on my own.”

“If you kids plan on staying a while, I’d like to teach you what I know the Southern Tradition.”

Katara’s face lit up in elation, and she clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Yes, yes of course! To learn about my heritage, it would mean everything to me.”

“And what’re we supposed to do while Katara’s off playing with water?” Toph slumped down, anticipating the boredom of waiting around.

“Well, I’ve got to go into town tomorrow for more supplies for my boat. I could always use some more hands, if you’re willing. I’ll even pay for lunch,” Miki offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Sokka gave two thumbs up.

“Then it’s settled,” Hama clapped her hands. “You all better get a good night’s rest. Miki, will you show them to their rooms?”

Miki nodded, and the group grabbed their belongings and followed him up the stairs.

⁂

Katara tried to remember the last time she slept in a room all by herself. The only other instance she could even think of was on the stolen Fire Nation war ship, after escaping Ba Sing Se. But even then, she spent very little time sleeping, and more time walking the deck or keeping Aang’s healing on track. The rooms at the inn were not very big, but sitting in the double bed all alone made them feel larger than they were.

At the sound of her door creaking open, Katara jumped up, but relaxed seeing the outline of Sokka. He too was down to his sleeping clothes, with his hair hanging lose.

“Sokka, what are you doing?”

“We need to talk about Hama,” he whispered.

“Is something wrong?”

“Seriously?” Sokka stepped into her room, shut the door behind him and took a seat at the edge of her bed. “Come on, Katara, you don’t think she’s a little creepy?”

“No, I don’t!” Katara crossed her arms in annoyance. “She’s a harmless old woman, Sokka. She was a friend of Gran-Gran’s! What’s creepy about her?”

“How about the fact that she was walking alone on a beach at night?”

“She said herself she wanted to see her son’s boat.”

“Alright, well, how about the fact that whatever she did to heal Aang was definitely no normal Waterbending?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were a Waterbending Master now,” Katara rolled her eyes, their deep blue looking more like black in the dark. “She saved Aang’s life. What does it matter how she did it?”

“There was no glowy-glow!” Sokka threw up his hands, then theatrically replicated the actions he described. “She jabs him in the chest with her claws and then, voila, blood flowing fine again.”

“And you don’t think that’s amazing?”

“Amazing? Sure,” he admitted, “but I’m telling you, I just… have a weird feeling about this place, you know? And didn’t you notice something off between Hama and Miki?”

“And again, no.”

“Whatever,” Sokka relented, realizing this was not something they were going to agree on.

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep,” Katara suggested, with her only suspicion being that Sokka was overtired. “Is your room cool enough? Do you want me to chill it for you?”

“No, its fine,” he waved her off. Sokka got off the bed and opened the door again. “‘Night.”

“Goodnight.”

Sokka did have every intention of going back to bed. But when he heard Miki and Hama still up talking, his curiosity got the better of him.

Sokka crept down the stairs as quietly as possible, keeping a close eye on his shadow from the hallway light on the wall. He did not want to get so close to the bottom that it was in view from the kitchen.

“You better be gentle with that girl, Mother,” he heard Miki say, while footsteps shuffled, pacing. “You can’t lose your patience.”

“She’s already a better bender than you’ll ever be. And perhaps she will be more appreciative,” was Hama’s bitter reply. “I doubt those children would abandon their mother.”

“Making plans to replace me already, are you?”

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t leave!”

“And I’ve already told you to come with!” Miki stressed, then softened his tone again. “I don’t understand, Mother. Don’t you want to go home?”

“I can’t.”

“Well, I can!”

“No!” Hama hissed.

Sokka jumped at the sound of a sudden choking noise from Miki, and the pacing stopped. He covered his mouth, thinking for a split second that the old woman had just killed her own son, but then Miki grunted.

“Don’t you understand?” Hama keened softly, “I wouldn't know how to survive with the People anymore… And you, what makes you think they’ll even want you?”

“Mother,” Miki pleaded in distress, “you promised… not to do this to me anymore…”

There was a soft inhale from Hama, and a thump where Miki grunted again. Sokka’s imagination tried to piece together what was happening behind the wall, but couldn’t. Then, Hama broke down crying.

Sokka didn’t know what to make of that, but heard Miki whisper something comforting, even after what she said, and whatever she did to him. He suddenly felt a strange guilt over listening to this, and crept back up the stairs.

Hama didn’t seem as creepy anymore, as she did just… scared and sad.

⁂

After a hearty breakfast the following morning, Aang, Toph and Sokka followed Miki down the road leading into the nearby town, while Katara followed Hama past where Appa had made a comfortable bed and into the woods.

“The beach is that way,” Katara noted while pointing behind her, uncertain of where they were going.

“That is why we’re going this way,” Hama hummed, and kept a good walking speed. She was much surer on her feet in the daylight, making her way through the trees without any problems.

“Growing up at the South Pole, Waterbenders are at home, surrounded by snow and ice and seas,” Hama said as they continued along. “But, as you probably noticed on your travels, that isn't the case wherever you go.”

Katara thought back to what felt like an eternity walking through the Si Wong Desert, without any end in sight. “I know, when we were stranded in the desert, I felt like there was almost nothing I could do.”

Hama didn’t seem phased by the statement, and Katara wondered if it was because the tales of their little group had somehow spread further than they realized, or because in comparison to what she went through, the desert didn’t seem so treacherous. “That's why you have to learn to control water wherever it exists.”

“I've even used my own sweat for Waterbending,” Katara offered a sheepish grin, expecting Hama to find this at least a little gross, but instead she smiled, impressed.

“That's very resourceful, Katara. You're already thinking like a true Master. But did you know you can even pull water out of thin air?”

Katara watched carefully as Hama swung her hand gracefully around herself in a way that reminded her of Aang’s Airbending style. Astoundingly, little droplets of water collected at her finger tips, dripping together to coat them.

“You've got to keep an open mind, Katara,” Hama said as she froze the water at her fingers into small icicles. “There's water in places you never think about.”

Hama swiped her hand towards a nearby tree, and the icicles went flying. They lodged themselves into the trunk with a precise strike.

Katara stepped forward to Hama side, then did her best to copy the motions Hama made. After a few swirls and deepening focus, she closed her eyes and imagined the moisture in the air as tangible, and then it was. Katara beamed when she opened her eyes again to see the little pools of water she had collected over her nails.

“Remarkable, Katara!” Hama applauded her success. “You are quite the fast learner…” Katara froze the water and flung the formed icicles at the same tree, though only two of them actually pierced the bark, with the other three breaking on impact. “…Though your precision could use work. When you form the ice, you want to make sure the tips are as solid and sharp as possible. Imagine you’re making daggers.”

“I usually rely more on blunt force,” Katara admitted. “But I’ve made some pretty sharp spikes before in anger.”

“Sometimes anger is all you have to survive on.”

The two walked some more, with Katara still reflecting on Hama’s words. The way Pakku had spoke, anger made someone unworthy of Waterbending. But the way Hama spoke, it was only a matter of staying alive… and maybe she was right. Where would they be, had Katara’s anger not freed Aang from his frozen state all those months ago? Did she not deserve a little anger?

The trees parted to a small meadow, filled to the brim with beautiful bright crimson flowers.

“They’re beautiful,” Katara noted, bending down to take in the aroma. They smelled of sweet cream.

“They're called Fire Lilies,” Hama explained. “They only bloom a few weeks a year, but they're one of my favorite things about living here… And like all plants, and all living things, they're filled with water.”

“I met a Waterbender who lived in a swamp, and could control the vines by bending the water inside.” How Huu bended the forest was like nothing she had ever seen, but more amazing was the way he spoke of how all living things were connected. It was so much like the teachings she heard growing up in her own village. Maybe that connection was more than just a spiritual one. Maybe it was in the water.

Hama interrupted the pondering. “You can take it even further,” she said, extended her hand, and spun around sucking the water straight out of the flowers. With the water also drained the colour, and the once beautiful patch they stood in was now nothing but a circle of dried up, dead compost. But all around Hama was a ring of flowing water, which in an overhand throwing motion, she whipped at a nearby rock, splitting it clean in half.

“That was incredible,” Katara commended, but at the sight of the dead flowers, couldn’t help but feel sombre. “But what about the lillies?”

“They’re just flowers,” Hama shrugged.

“But they were living. Isn’t that… disrespectful?” Her parents had always told her that the animals, the plants, they were deserving of respect too. It’s why you didn’t fish or hunt or even pick berries without need and without thanks.

“When you're a Waterbender in a strange land, you do what you must to survive,” Hama said sternly. Katara looked down at the dead flowers again. If they were in real danger, that certainly would have been need. But such an excess display of power seemed… wrong.

“Let’s head back to the inn,” Hama suggested. “We’ll continue training after lunch.” Katara nodded and followed, but still had one more thing to ask.

“Hama, when you said there was water in all life…”

“Yes?”

“…People, they have water too.”

Hama stopped walking. “Yes,” she repeated, then continued forward.

⁂

The “town” turned out to be more like a large-end village. The houses and shops were all constructed from the same beige stone, but with roofs in a range of browns and reds. The place seemed rather quiet until the group reached the marketplace at the heart of the community. Here, crowds were bustling. Some merchants called out to get attention to passing shoppers, while others had line ups in front of their stalls. A restaurant’s outdoor seating area was full of folks enjoying lunch under the canopy’s shade. The group passed by a fountain featuring a statue of a Fire Nation general, with a curtain of water flowing down from the platform the figure stood on into a pool. A couple of kids were splashing around, careless of getting their clothes wet. The people all in all seemed at peace.

Miki gave Aang a few coins, told the kids to find something to eat, and to meet him back at the fountain when they were done. With the only restaurant looking full, they took to the street vendors, and were satisfied with cups of thick cold noodles and vegetables, drenched in soya sauce.

“Man, this place is great,” Aang said. You’d never know he almost died less than 24 hours ago, going by the pep in his step. If anything, he almost seemed livelier than he’d been in days. “Where even are we?”

“I left our map back at the inn, but we shouldn’t be too far from the Gates of Azulon,” Sokka answered. “Lucky for Katara, we’re ahead of schedule.”

“Amazing! And we didn’t need to miss a single bathroom break after all,” Toph razzed Sokka over his anxious fear of falling behind his precious timetable.

“Hey guys,” Aang stopped Sokka before he could retort, “I just realized what’s so different here… where are all the soldiers?”

Sokka looked around, expecting to see at least one person in the standard Fire Nation military armour, especially given that as small a village as it was, they were pretty close to the Capital. But there wasn’t a single one in sight.

“They don’t let them leave the Fort Jie anymore,” an older gentleman walking up behind them said, having overheard the comment. He pointed over to where the top of a fort tower overshadowed the village, with a large bright red Fire Nation flag blowing at the top. “Too many deserters.”

Sokka laughed. “Deserters, huh?” He found it comical to think even before the invasion, their military was falling apart. Not that he could blame them; who’d want to be a soldier for the Fire Nation?

The old man nodded. “Shameful is what it is. This village was the home of the great General Jie. In my day, hundreds of junior corps passed through that base in fine form. Guess they don’t teach loyalty like they used to, eh?”

“Guess not,” Aang said, looking down at the empty paper cup in his hands.

The man huffed in satisfaction of being heard, and brushed pass them, continuing on his way.

“Something wrong?” Sokka asked.

“How young do you think these ‘junior corps’ are?” Aang was a lot quieter now, not wanting another passer-by’s input.

“Who cares? That guy said they’re all cowards anyway.”

“I dunno, telling the army where they can stick it and going off on your own doesn’t seem very cowardly to me,” Toph argued.

Sokka collected their empty noodle cups and tossed them in a waste bin. “Whatever. It’s the Capital we’ll have to worry about soon enough.”

Miki was waiting for them under the fountain of General Jie. He clenched his fists, looking up at helmeted head of the stone man. All of a sudden steam started to rise from the water, and the two kids yelped and jumped out just in time before it began to bubble and boil.

“Miki? Mr. Miki!” Aang tugged at the man’s sleeve, and he jumped back at the contact.

“Ah, sorry kids, I… didn’t see you.”

“…Did you get what you needed?”

“Sure did,” Miki motioned to the stack of small wooden boxes beside him, a collection of metal rods, and a couple roles of thick rope. “If you boys wouldn’t mind helping me carry this, we’ll be back to the boat in no time.”

Annoyed by her lack of acknowledgement, Toph pushed past Aang to grab the two roles of rope and threaded her arms through them. She lifted the rope up to her shoulders without any trouble, and stuck her tongue out in the direction of the others. “Well? You heard the man. I want to get a good feel of that boat!”

⁂

Between the four of them, it was no trouble to carry Miki’s supplies back down the path to the inn. There, Miki grabbed his tools, the group was joined by Momo, and they continued down to the boat Hama was surveying the night before.

“Hey Miki, you didn’t say you were a Firebender,” Aang noted, while Momo crawled up on top of his head.

“What? Oh, the fountain…” For a moment he appeared a little offended, but mellowed out immediately afterwards. “No, I’m a Waterbender like Mother. I’m just better at boiling it than freezing,” he laughed. “Well, perhaps ‘better’ isn’t the right word. More like ‘prone to’.”

“Your mother must have been quite the teacher.”

“…You could say that.”

“I still don’t know how she healed me,” Aang rubbed at the spot on his chest, where there were still marks from where Hama dug her nails into him. “She must be very powerful.”

“I’m not even close to her level,” Miki admitted. “At least, not most of the time, but the full moon helps.”

“Did she teach you Southern bending too?”

This he seemed to more easily nod at. “She raised me as much in our traditions as she could, including bending.”

In the daylight, it was even clearer how much of a wreck the boat must have been in before Miki began his repairs, and how much was left to do. The hole wasn’t only on the one side; another, albeit smaller one matched on the opposite. Whatever took the boat out had ripped clean through it. The railing was bent, torn and completely missing in some spots. Most of the windows of the cabin were smashed.

“Wow, this thing sure is…” Sokka trailed off, failing to find a word to describe the hunk of scrap wood and metal before them.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Miki nodded, missing the lack of excitement. “Or well, she will be. Now, let’s get those rails back in shape.”

“What do you plan on doing about that?” Aang walked up to the large holes in the sides, and poked his finger at the shredded open metal.

“Not sure yet. I’m a one step at a time kind of guy,” Miki admitted with a shrug. “I’m sure I’ll find some metal siding large enough to patch it eventually.”

Toph approached the boat and ran her hand along the siding until reaching the edge of the hole. “Patching is for people who aren’t the words greatest Earthbender,” she bared her teeth in a wide smirk, and yanked back. The metal stuck with her hand, pulling into shape and closing up part of the hole.

The rods Miki had in his arms clattered to the ground, and he stood with his mouth wide in shock. “How…?”

“Yeah, I can definitely fix this,” Toph said, pleased with herself. “How’s about it?”

“That’s— I mean, I don’t— How,” he stumbled to find words, before repeating himself. “Since when can anyone bend metal?”

“Anyone can’t, but I can.”

“This is… this is incredible!” Miki sprinted to her side and felt the piece that Toph had pulled back into shape. It was study as anything. “This changes everything…”

“Between the four of us and with Toph’s Metalbending, maybe we can get it all fixed today!” Aang picked up the rods that Miki dropped, and jumped up onto the deck in one tall leap.

“Maybe…”

The children set to work helping Miki put his boat together at a pace that would have taken him months, if not years on his own. Toph worked away at reforming the holes in the boat’s side and reinforcing the patchwork job Miki had already done. When Aang finished chipping away at a couple of trees for masts with his Airbending, he took to the task of stitching a canvas tent into sails. Sokka asked Miki how he planned on working the fire engine, and suggested turning it into a sailboat instead. As they banged and bolted the railing back together, he gave Miki the best rundown he could on managing them.

“You’re a bright kid, Sokka” Miki complimented him, while wiping away at the sweat of his brow with the collar of his dark red tunic. “You mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind saying that again when my sister’s around.”

Miki chuckled, but his face remained rather grim. “Down in the South Pole, were there any folks like me?”

“Waterbenders? No, Katara was the last one.”

“No, no. I mean, people who aren’t, you know, just from the Water Tribe.”

“Oh.” Sokka thought about it. It wasn’t like it was something he ever concerned himself with. “Yeah, of course there were. Like Katara’s friend, Niyok and her sister; their mother was originally from the Earth Kingdom.”

“And no one had a problem with them?”

“Why would they?” Miki looked down, and Sokka remembered the exchange he had eavesdropped on that night. “Hey, you’re as much Water Tribe as you are Fire Nation. And it’s not your fault what happened to her, why you’re here and not there.” Miki looked back up and gave Sokka and appreciative smile, though not an entirely convinced one. “If you ask me, you’ve got just as much right to be there as you do here. And if the Southern Water Tribe is where you want to be, I’m sure everyone would be glad to have you.”

It was a little strange, comforting a man more than twice his age, but it reminded Sokka of what it was like with his father, after his mother died. In that moment, Miki’s chipper exterior fell, and he looked tired beyond the physical. Sokka’s father used to do the same; brave for his kids, but sometimes when he thought he was alone, you could catch him in that darker place. He didn’t like it when Sokka tried to tell him everything was going to be okay. He always said it was his job to say that, but Sokka couldn’t help it; protecting his family was what a man was supposed to do, right?

Miki clapped his hand on Sokka’s back. “Thanks, kid. Now, let’s finish bolting these rails down before the little lady down below decides to show us how it’s done, hmm?”

⁂

Katara and Hama spent the rest of the day training on the inn’s grounds. Hama was harsher in her teaching than the morning, constantly pushing Katara to be less restrained with her movements. “You’ve spent too much time around Earthbenders” she chided, and Katara almost felt like Hama expected her to lose the bones in her body, the way she wanted her to flex. After her voice grew to a screaming level, Katara finally snapped in frustration. She was utterly beside herself over the change in disposition from the old woman. Hama had been so gentle when they first met. What had Katara done to deserve her shortness? She pulled the water out from the grass beneath Hama’s feet and enveloped her in silence, but Hama pushed the wall of water at Katara with such a strong force, it knocked the girl back into the inn’s wall with a harsh thud, and she fell to the ground.

“What is your problem?” Katara barked and pushed herself up into a kneeling position. For the first time since meeting, she thought about Sokka’s words, calling her creepy. And while creepy wasn’t really the right word, there was definitely something about Hama she couldn’t quite place. “I was doing just fine, and we both know it!”

Hama seemed taken back by this. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” she shook her head. “For a moment, I remembered my days teaching Miki…”

Katara lowered her shoulders a bit out of curiosity. “You didn’t mention your son was a Waterbender, too.”

“He tries. Perhaps he’d be better if… well,” Hama dropped her gaze downwards, “I have not always been the best mother to him, or the best teacher.”

“Have you ever told him that?”

Hama shook her head no, and huffed. “So I can listen to him speak of how he hates me? No.”

“You think your son hates you?” Hama huffed again, and shrugged. “For what it’s worth, it’s clear to me that Miki cares a lot about you.”

“Does he? A mother wonders, when her only son wants to leave her so badly.” Hama walked over to offer her hand to Katara’s assistance off the ground. She took it, and brushed hands off on her skirt. It was already spotted with grass stains anyways. “He is all I have, all I’ve ever had, since my escape.”

“But don’t you think that’s a little unfair, to put that all on him?” Katara suggested. “I mean, wouldn’t you rather have other people around, too?”

“And who would that be?”

“Our village,” Katara lifted her hands up, presenting it as the obvious response. But Hama shook her head, and for a second, Katara thought she looked a little afraid.

“Let’s not speak of this anymore,” she said. “I think it’s time for our final lesson.” Hama shuffled towards the inn, and waved Katara to follow. “Come now. The others will be back for supper soon. We should have something ready for them.”

⁂

Katara helped Hama dice up vegetables for the soup they prepared. She kept on thinking about the way the old woman yelled at her, not able to imagine ever hearing such from Gran-Gran. But the way Hama pushed her, it was like she was waiting for Katara to push back.

“I spent decades trapped in that Fire Nation prison,” Hama began, each chopping motion she made growing intense. “The guards were always careful to keep any water away from us. They piped in air so dry it cracked the skin, and had us suspended away from the ground. Before giving us any drop to drink, they would bind our hands and feet. Any sign of trouble was met with cruel retribution.”

“Hama, I’m so, so sorry.” It was the only thing Katara could think to say. The missing pieces she was looking for came together; after years of nothing but torture, it was no wonder she was so obsessed with survival. Katara wondered what it must have been like to constantly feel like you were only barely on the edge of it, and couldn’t.

Hama continued. “And yet, for three nights each month, I felt the full moon enriching me with its energy. I never gave up hope of escape. Then came the day I realized that if where there is water, there is life, then where there is life, there is water. In the flies that buzzed around my head. In the rats that scurried across the floor of my cage. In the guards that patrolled the facility, waiting for the slightest excuse to prove their total control. And I passed years developing the skills that would lead to my escape.” Katara met Hama’s eyes, and felt a cold chill run down her spine from the words that followed. “Bloodbending. Controlling the water in another body. Enforcing your own will over theirs.”

Katara quit chopping her vegetables, frozen in horror. “You don’t mean…”

“Once I had mastered the rats, I was ready for the men... and my cell was unlocked by the very guards assigned to keep me in.”

Katara could hardly believe how satisfied Hama sounded when speaking of such a horrible act. “But to reach inside someone and control them? That’s so… violating.”

“Violating?” Hama raged, and dropped her knife. “You should count yourself lucky you nothing of the word, Katara.”

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“How do you think I healed the Avatar?” Hama asked, her tone returning to normal once again. “Conventional Waterbending healing can only do so much.”

It made sense, then. The way there was no glow to her healing. The way she spoke of Aang’s arteries as if she could feel them.

Hama turned to Katara, and turned the girl’s body so they stood face to face. “Look at me, Katara. Focus past my skin. Listen to my heartbeat. Feel the blood pumping in and out.”

Katara did look. She met Hama’s eyes with a fervent focus, and she could feel it. She could feel the veins and arteries and capillaries crawling all over Hama’s body, and she could feel her own. She could have taken hold of it; it was there in her reach, but Katara pulled back, feeling a skin crawling sensation of disgust.

“No! No, I… thank you for your teachings, Hama, but that’s not something I can do. It’s not right.” Katara picked up her chopped vegetables and poured them into the pot without further comment.

⁂

The others returned with perfect timing, just as the soup was finished. Aang asked Katara how her bending lessons went, to which she said Hama was certainly a different kind of teacher, while giving a sideways glance at the woman setting the table.

As they ate, Miki ardently recounted how thanks to Toph, Sokka and Aang, the boat went from a wreck to seaworthy in a matter of hours. Hama very notably did not share his enthusiasm.

“I suppose this means you’ll be leaving, then,” she muttered.

“You mean you’re not both going?” Aang asked, then looked to Miki. “I thought you said your mother was coming with you.”

“I… had hoped you would change your mind,” Miki admitted, looking to Hama anxiously.

She dug the spoon into the bottom of her bowl with a clang, and took a slow slurp. “As did I, that you would.”

“Well it’s not like you have to decide right now,” Katara offered, sensing the tension rising between them. This boat was a sorer spot than she realized.

“No,” Miki shook his head severely. “No, I’m leaving tomorrow. If she’s so intent on staying, fine. But I’m not sticking around to watch this place eat away at her another day.”

Miki pushed his chair back from the table, and left out the front door. The five children and Hama sat mutely, before Katara got up as well and went to chase after Miki.

“Miki,” Katara called to him, and jogged up to his side. He was walking down the path into town and not the boat, so at least he wasn’t planning on leaving without even saying goodbye. “Your mother told me what happened to her in the Fire Nation prison…”

“She did, huh?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why say that to me?”

“Because it’s obviously affected you to,” Katara said, keeping pace at his side.

“…You said you lost your mother to the Fire Nation.” Katara nodded. “In a way, I did to.” Silence fell and held them for a minute, before Miki continued with a question. “Tell me Katara, what’s it like in the Southern Water Tribe?”

“It’s… cold, most of the time,” she started with the obvious and simple. “But the people are warm. Like how whenever you get sick, you can expect at least one gift of food from pretty much every family in the village,” she laughed. “Community is important, so everyone looks out for each other, you know? I miss it,” Katara admitted.

As she spoke more of her home, Katara barely noticed where they were going until looking up and seeing the path they were on led to a Fire Nation fort. The outer wall was hexagonal in shape, built from solid beige stone that looked more like grey in the moonlight, decorated with leafy vines. In the centre was a tall tower of four levels, the roof at the top coming to a steep point with a Fire Nation flag dangling lose, without any wind. Above the gate to the fort, two soldiers with bows slung over their shoulders stood on the ramparts, engaged in casual conversation instead of paying attention to the road below.

“We should turn back,” Katara said, but Miki ignored the suggestion.

“How much did my mother tell you of her escape, Katara?”

“She told me enough.”

“And how much did she teach you?”

“…Enough,” Katara repeated.

Miki was apparently able to gage what ‘enough’ meant, as he gave a thin but forbidding smile. “My mother will never leave this place, so long as it haunts her. I think it must be because she was too afraid to ever rescue her brothers and sisters. But I’m not.”

“You know where they are?” Katara gasped.

“No, but they must,” he motioned up at the fort. “Help me get answers, Katara.”

“But…”

“My mother told me you’re a better bender than I’ll ever be, and I’ve no reason to doubt it. Don’t you see? Between you, me, and the full moon, there’s no better time to strike!” Seeing that Katara wasn’t convinced, Miki continued. “Katara, these people want nothing more than to destroy us! Think of what they did to your mother, and mine.”

“But this Bloodbending,” she was afraid to even use the word, “it seems so wrong.”

“Have you truly never wished you could make someone do what you want? Stop something terrible, save a friend?”

Katara thought about how easily she was captured in Ba Sing Se thanks to Ty Lee’s chi blocking, and General Fong’s fanatical attempt to trigger the Avatar State, and Zuko kidnapping Aang in the North, and everything in between. And she thought about her mother; how she sacrificed herself to protect Katara’s identity as the real last Waterbender in the Southern Water Tribe. If only Katara could have stopped the raider that killed her.

“I need your help, Katara,” Miki pleaded.

She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “I’ll help you.”

⁂

Sokka waited impatiently on the porch of Hama’s inn, balancing his sword on his knees. Finally, Toph came back from the beach, just as Aang returned from flying over the woods with his glider.

“They’re not at the boat,” Toph said.

“They’re not at the meadow Hama mentioned, either,” Aang added, his voice slightly shaky with concern. “They must’ve gone into town.”

“This late? Maybe they’re in the shed,” Toph suggested.

“But Hama said not to go in there.”

“Who cares? Let’s check the shed and if they’re not there, we’ll head into town.” Sokka got up and marched over to the smaller building.

Toph popped the giant padlock open without trouble, and Sokka and Aang pulled back the doors. There were indeed plenty of carpentry and gardening tools inside the shed, but that wasn’t what caught their attention. In four rows of three sat half-armoured soldiers, tied to their chairs, with cloth stuffed into their mouths.

One of the prisoners looked up and let out muffled urgent grunts at the sight of unfamiliar faces. He shuffled as best he could in the chair, bumping into the man next to him, who looked up and started doing the same.

“What is this?” Toph exclaimed, while Aang rushed over to start removing the cloth. Sokka however, did not wait for explanations. He clenched his teeth and turned on his heel, back towards the inn.

Sokka kicked down the door, causing Hama to drop the plate she was washing in the sink.

“You may have fooled everyone else, but I knew it! I knew right from the beginning there was something wrong here,” he pointed his sword at her. Hama did not back away from the tip of the blade, nor did she even flinch at the accusation.

“What is the meaning of this?” she rasped.

“Tell me why you locked those men up in the shed!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Where is my sister?!”

“Sokka!” Aang called, before stumbling inside as well with one of the soldiers hanging onto him. His face looked young but sunken. “Sokka, it wasn’t Hama.”

“Then who— Miki?”

“I don’t understand,” Hama pushed Sokka’s sword out of the way and stepped forward. “Who is this, what are you kids talking about?”

“Your son had a dozen men locked up in his shed,” Sokka explained, then turned to the soldier. “What did he want with you?”

“He said he’d let us go if we told him where some water prison was… Water prison, what in the name of Sozin is a water prison?” he moaned. “We tried to tell him we had no idea what he was talking about, over and over, but the man wouldn’t believe us…”

“Oh, Miki…” Hama buried her face in her hands. “This is all my fault.”

Toph joined them, followed by the shuffling feet of the other soldiers, all young men and women only newly out of their teens at the oldest.

“You all must be from Fort Jie. The townspeople think you’re deserters.”

“I wish,” one of them muttered.

“Speak for yourself,” said another, “I’m heading back this instant. I’ve been in that shed for three months!” But when he turned around to face the road to town, Hama extended her wrinkled hand and the boy froze with a gurgling noise. The others backed away in astonishment, and Hama swiped her hand down. The boy crumbled to the ground unconscious. After a single beat passed, she did the same to the rest of the soldiers.

“What did you do?” Aang asked, dismayed by the ability.

“There’s no time to explain. I fear my son and your friend need saving.”

“From the army?”

“On a full moon? Oh no,” she shook her head. “From doing something they’ll regret.”

⁂

Katara watched Miki take hold of one of the archers on the ramparts, and forced him to jerkily jump off; it was not a fatal fall, but enough to render him grounded. She breathed deeply, and reached out to the water flowing in the vines crawling up the walls. With the energy of the moon pouring down on her, it was like second nature to snap the vines up around the ankle of the other man, pulling him over the edge and entangling him against the wall.

The fearful cries from the man stuck in the vines was enough to alert more guards to rush to the gate. The moment it opened, Miki roared and charged into the open yard, with Katara at his heels. She ducked out of the way of a fireball flying over her head, and pulled a stream out from the waterskin hanging over her shoulder, ready to whip the Firebender. Before she could do so however, another soldier under Miki’s control pounced, wrestling him to the ground. The fire in his hands blazed ferociously out of control, spreading to the pile of target dummies next to them. The dry straw they were stuffed with caught the flame with ease, and the fire grew.

Katara turned her attention elsewhere, and used her water whip to strike at the soldiers around her, who were unable to get close enough to use their weapons. Noticing out of the corner of her eye that the fire from the dummies had spread to a small patch of grass and bench under a shady tree, she shouted to Miki. While he was busy taking down the Firebenders, he caught Katara’s pointing to the tree, and nodded. Katara stepped backwards, drawing the soldiers into the corner next to the flaming tree. Just before Miki pulled it down, Katara swung her water whip at the legs of the encircling soldiers, knocking them all down and diving out of the way to leave the soldiers trapped behind the tree.

“Let’s get to the tower,” Miki said.

“Shouldn’t we ask them what they know first?” Katara asked, seeing as they now had a group of soldiers at their mercy.

“I’ve tried before. We need someone higher up; they don’t know anything.”

“What do you mean, you tried before?” Katara asked, but Miki was already running for the door to the tower.

Inside the tower’s main level, a stairwell ran all along the wall, going up and down underground. It looked to be a recreational space, empty with the soldiers having poured out to the courtyard, hearing the commotion. Miki and Katara ran up the stairs.

The stairs were not well lit, with torches only mounted on each interval level. They passed only a handful of soldiers on their climb upwards, and each time Miki subdued them with his Bloodbending without second thought, pulling them down in a long fall. Katara winced when one large and muscular woman in particular hit the corner level and kept falling down the next. The sound of her metal armour clanking at each step echoed the whole way down.

Miki rammed into the door, nearly pushing it clean off its hinges. Inside there was but one soldier with his back to them, staring over a desk covered in documents and scrolls. His helmet was different than the others, with prongs jutting out like a beetle shell. He was shorter in stature than Katara would have expected from a higher ranking officer, but this earned no hesitation from Miki. He extended his hand and the soldier screamed. Miki pulled the soldier towards them, then pushed him to his knees and bent his back up straight, holding him in the rendered position tightly. Katara and Miki circled around to face the man before them.

“Are you in charge here then, soot-sucker?” Miki began the interrogation, keeping his fist held out in front of him.

The soldier quivered under Miki’s invisible grip, his helmet rattling like it was slightly too big for the head inside it. “I-I guess...”

“You guess?”

“Everyone of real rank was called back to the Capital!”

“Then I s’pose you’ll have to do, won’t you?” Miki’s knuckles paled as he clenched his fist tighter, and the soldier shrieked again.

⁂

It was a risk flying on Appa to the fort so close to the village, but in the cover of night, the crew were willing to take that risk it to get there as fast as possible. When they spotted the flaming fort, Aang led Appa to land down at the edge of the forest.

It was clear Hama could not see so well in the dark, but she was still fast for her age so long as she had a hand to hold onto. Aang stayed at her side while Toph and Sokka rushed further ahead, the first to reach the open gate.

Flames nearly swept through the entire courtyard and up the vine-covered walls. A group of soldiers were cornered behind a fallen blazing tree screaming for help, while many more were strewn about the ground, unconscious. Toph immediately used her bending to pull the wall down behind the soldiers to crush the tree, while leaving a perfect hole around them and means of escape. The soldiers crawled and helped each other over the fallen blocks and ran by Aang and Hama. With no witnesses, he indiscreetly used his Airbending to supress more of the flames.

“They must be inside,” Aang called out over the roaring fire. Then added to Sokka and Hama, “Go, we’ve got this!”

Sokka and Hama went into the tower, while Toph and Aang continued to fight the spreading fire.

⁂

“Where are you holding the Waterbenders?” Miki asked menacingly, after once again loosening his fist.

“Wha… what Waterbenders?” The soldier whimpered, which was not the answer Miki wanted. The soldier screamed out again, as his arms stuck tighter to his sides, like he was being crushed by an invisible force.

Katara furrowed her brows with a concerned frown, and looked to Miki. “I thought you said—”

“He’s lying,” Miki cut her off, and made the soldier shake some more. “Tell us where the Waterbender prison is, and we won’t have to do this!”

“I-I-I don’t know what you mean! I don’t know anything!”

Miki snarled in frustration, and slammed his fist downwards, causing the soldier to bend back and hit the floor with a crack. When Miki bent him back up straight, his helmet shook off, and Katara was taken back by the face that was under it. He was just a boy. A boy not much older than her brother, staring up at them with wide, frightened eyes.

“He’s just a kid,” Katara whispered softly, then louder again to Miki. “He’s just a kid.”

“He’s a Fire Nation soldier!”

“No! No, I’ve never even left Fort Jie! I didn’t even want to join the corps! My Aunt made me,” the boy pleaded. “Please, please let me go!”

“Miki, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Katara tried to reason.

“He will if we let him go,” Miki argued. “What d’you think he’s been training for? Recruit today, raider tomorrow!” The boy had no answer to this, as he was thoroughly broken down into tears.

“You don’t know that! We’re fighting to end this war,” Katara said, and steeled herself. “Miki, let him go,” she ordered this time.

“I’m sorry, Katara. I’m sorry I assumed you would understand.”

Miki extended his other hand, and Katara felt her feet rip out from under her, her body carried back and pressed against the bookcase behind her. She shouted and struggled under Miki’s grip on her blood, but it was like she was trapped in someone else’s body, unable to move.

Just then, Sokka burst through the door. He took one look at Katara pinned back and one look at Miki, and charged. Miki relinquished his hold on the soldier, who fell forward in a heap on the floor, and threw Sokka to the wall opposite of Katara. But right behind Sokka shuffled in Hama, and that got Miki’s attention.

“Mother?”

“Miki. Let them go.” She said his name so softly, and the command so sternly.

“Or what, you’ll make me?” Miki scoffed. “Go ahead, break your promise. Yet again. I don’t even care anymore,” he looked down in despondency. Katara watched his composure start to fall with the shaking of his shoulders.

“Why are you doing this?” Hama asked.

“Why am I…?” Miki’s shaking stopped, and he looked back up again with renewed intensity. “I’m doing this for you! To get our people back!”

Hama shook her head sadly. “Our people are long gone.”

“No…”

“The Fire Nation would never have let them live, once I escaped. My freedom… was their doom.” Hama kept her gaze steady on her son, even through the watery buildup in her eyes. “All this time, I’ve blamed myself for it. And the thought of going home, having to face the families of those I let die…”

Hama wiped away the tears with her loose sleeve. “Miki, please listen to me. I’m sorry. I love you, and I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done that went against that. You deserved so much more than I could give, and you can hate me all you must. But hurting these kids,” Hama motioned to Katara and Sokka, “hurting that boy,” she motioned to the soldier on the ground, “in the end, you’re only doing the Fire Nation’s work for them, hurting yourself more.”

Hama took a hesitant step forward, and when Miki did not move, she took another, and another, until she was close enough to cup his cheek in her hand. Miki closed his eyes.

“The Fire Nation has hurt our family enough,” Hama said. “We can’t let them anymore.”

A moment passed. Katara stopped struggling, waiting for Miki to release her. The anger had washed away from his face completely, and instead he only looked staggeringly exhausted.

“You’re right,” Miki murmured.

What happened next passed in a rapid yet acute instant. Miki pushed his mother away, and simultaneously pulled Sokka towards himself, sword raised.

“No!” Katara called out, and felt what Hama had taught her to feel before. The arteries, the veins, the capillaries, all carrying blood, all carrying water. Katara broke from Miki’s hold, and asserted her own over him to push the man out of the way of Sokka’s sword just in time.

Sokka pulled his sword out of the wooden desk it dug into instead, and looked to Katara, concerned. When Katara released Miki, he fell to the ground in silence, and let his tears flow freely.

⁂

“You saved my son, even after what he did. Thank you,” Hama said. Behind her, Miki stood in melancholy on the bow of the boat, looking up at the stars. Sokka, Aang and Toph helped load up the boat. “I know you think of us as monsters.”

“I don’t,” Katara quickly corrected. “I think of you as brave, Hama, for facing your mistakes and your fears.” She took Hama’s hands in her own, and offered a sympathetic smile. “And what Miki did was wrong, but more than anything, I think he deserves help. You both do.” She hugged Hama, and after a moment of initial shock, Hama hesitantly placed her hand on Katara’s back.

Katara broke the embrace. She had just one final question to ask the old woman. “What you said back there, about losing the other Waterbenders being your fault… you know that’s not true, right?”

“After all these years, it still feels that way,” Hama admitted, but offered an attempted hopeful smile. “But perhaps someday, it won’t.”

“I think that’s everything,” Aang noted, having lugged the last of the hastily packed supplies for the trip in the fish holds, and the belongings they wished to take, of which there wasn’t much. Katara helped Hama climb the ladder into the boat, where her son helped her up over the side. Miki notably refused to look at any of them up until that point, when he gave a single glance at Katara, and nodded once.

Aang and Toph each stood on either side of the boat, and with a coordinated Earthbending push, shifted it through a smooth transition from rock to water. It slid off the platform and drifted forward, where Hama used Waterbending to push the boat off into the open water, and Miki brought the sails down as Sokka had told him. The four kids stood on the beach and watched their departure until they were only a spot in the distance.

“You think they’ll be alright?” Aang asked.

“That boat is as good as new, now,” said Toph.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I do,” Katara answered him honestly. “In time.”

“We should get going,” Sokka hummed awkwardly.

“I’ll go get Appa,” Aang volunteered, and Toph followed, leaving Sokka and Katara standing on the beach alone.

“Are you okay?” Katara asked.

He gave her a half-hearted smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Sokka, you almost killed a man.”

Sokka’s smile turned into a dour frown, and he looked out at the water. “…I would have, if he hurt you.” Katara searched for any sign of hyperbole on his face, but found none. After a minute of silence, he looked back to her and asked, “Hey, are you okay? What you did back there, that…”

“Bloodbending.”

“Yeah, that. That was… well, something.”

Katara nodded, not knowing how to describe it either. “It’s complicated. When Hama first told me, I thought it sounded vile. She may have used Bloodbending to save Aang’s life, but Miki used it to hurt people…” Katara hugged herself tightly. “Sokka, I still don’t know if I want that kind of power.”

“Can’t blame you there,” Sokka tried to shrug off the mood, but noticing his sister still clung to herself, hung his arm around her shoulders. “You know, I may not be a Waterbending Master,” he poked at her sarcastic remark from the night before, “but I know you are. If… Bloodbending… is part of that responsibility, I can’t think of anyone else I’d trust with it.”

Katara brought her own hand on Sokka’s shoulder as well, and the two stood there, looking out at the reflection of the full moon in the water, listening to the soft waves draw in and out on the shore.