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The remains of Fire Nation attack are perceptible in the air she breathes. A fine layer of ash settles on her worn out seal-skin boots, and she crouches as her hands reach for a small charred body that is oddly twisted on the ground. She does not know their name, and she cannot decipher their gender or the shape of their face. She does not know them, but a voice deep inside commands her to do something about their body, give them some sort of post-mortem dignity. She shuts down that voice with one swift shake of her head. She gets off the ground, not bothering to pat the dust off her clothing.
There used to be a time when her indifference would have scared her— now she is past that point. People being brutally murdered is not a rare occurrence, and children are not spared just because to their innocence. Nevertheless, she wonders whether someone bothered to give her family a proper burial; considering how isolated they used to live, she doubts it. Still, she holds that feeling to her chest that someone out there was not as uncaring as her. She touches the pendant of her choker, the only thing she has left of her old life.
She is disrupted from her thoughts by a commotion coming from the woods. She braces herself, feet planted firmly onto the ground and ready to take the water from her pouch. The tension forsakes her body when she recognizes Smellerbee at the front of the group.
The wounded from the previous morning attack are brought in any way possible: in homemade stretchers, slung over their shoulders, in cartwheels, on ostrich horses. One after the other, lifeless, limp, bloody bodies are brought to a small clear of the forest that functions as a spontaneous medical center for the victims. A couple of uninjured earthbenders position themselves at the sides of the clearance and bend two tall walls and a roof.
She follows Smellerbee into the improvised infirmary. They are going to need all the help they can get.
Bodies are sprayed over the ground, some wringing and moaning in pain, some with clothes concealing their faces. She does not know what is stronger in her senses, whether is the smell of putrefying flesh or the incessant whimpering. She walks farther into the settlement; she has been her many times before, attending to the wounded with the smell of death assaulting her nostrils and the pleading sobs of their loved ones drumming through her ears. Of all the things she had adapted to since she escaped the massacre of the Southern Water Tribe, she wishes this one was one of those things.
One of the alive people on the floor croaks and reaches for the fabric of her pants, catching her attention, and she crouches to be at their height. At closer inspection, she considers that the victim it is probably a young woman in her twenties, although a bandage dirtied by blood is concealing half her face. When she lowers her sight to check for more injuries, she notices the swollen expanse of her belly. A hand firmly grasps her shoulder and she turns to look at her.
“Is my baby okay?” the woman whimpers.
Katara holds her hand and squeezes it. “Can you tell me your name?”.
The woman exhales and shudders at the effort she is putting her lungs through. “Ying. My name is Ying”.
Katara forces a smile and nods her head. She does not understand a smile calms people down, but it does.
“Okay, Ying. My name is Katara. I’m going to take the water from my pouch and check the baby” she informs her.
She wastes no time and opens the lap of her coat. She does a quick check up, trying to find any proof that she could be suffering from internal bleeding. Once she considers that Ying is not at risk of suffering internal hemorrhage, she pulls the contents of her pouch and hovers her water-covered hands over her pelvic area. A soft blue light shines bright from it, and she closes her eyes to concentrate.
She never had any formal waterbending training ever in her life. She was born long after the last waterbender of her tribe was taken hostage to never be seen again. The last person to remember her used to be her grandmother, who taught what little she remembered of her youth at the best her capacities— but it could never replace an actual teacher. Not a day goes by in which she creates a million alternative possibilities, pondering that, if she had been a better waterbender, maybe she could have saved her tribe; even one person would have been better than none.
The only real reason she knows she is a healer is because she was forced into discovering it, until the blaze of one the attackers had left with a serious burn all over her arm. Despite discovering her abilities and managing to heal most of it, the scars remain a stark reminder of everything she had loved and lost.
She was not the greatest sailor, but when the Fire Nation left her home and she could not find a sight of remaining human life, she took one of her tribe’s boats and left— a living soul no longer fit in a burial ground. The moment she arrived the shores of the Earth Kingdom, she stole the laundry hanging outside a small house and burned her old clothes; she told herself she was crying due to the proximity of the burning smoke reaching her eyes and nothing.
She spent weeks travelling by foot through the woods, scavenging for any food she could find whether it was in the form of a weak animal she could easily catch with her hands or the garbage that was left outside people’s houses. When a group of young men surrounded her, she closed her eyes and braced herself for her imminent death. Instead, one of them, a boy wearing a conical hat and solemn expression, stepped forwards and offered his hand. Ever since that day, she had been with them. She does not consider them family, and probably never will, but they are home.
She removes her hands from her belly and put the water into her pouch.
“Well, the baby’s heartbeat is strong,” she informs her, “I think the two of you are going to be just fine”.
Ying begins crying softly. “Thank you”.
Katara smiles. “Do you have any other injuries?”.
Ying ponders on the question. “My left leg hurts a little bit”.
Katara grabs her pocket knife and is careful to cut the clothing without marring her skin. Her leg shows some discoloration (a normal side effect of an advanced pregnancy) and some bruising, but fortunately, the leg is not swollen. She pulls the water from her pouch again and applies it over the area, hoping that it might relieve some of the pain. She takes off her jacket and places it under her leg. She will have to look for something else to elevate her leg, but for now, that should do.
“Katara?” Jet’s voice takes her attention away from her Ying. She just nods and he stays away, understanding that she needs to finish what she has been doing first.
“Okay, Ying. You and the baby seem to be out of danger” she tells her.
Ying’s expression brightens. “Really?”.
She stands up from her position on the floor. “I’m going to check the two of you later”.
She walks away from Ying, making sure that the expression on her face is comforting before turning to talk to Jet. She grasps him by the wrist and pulls him away from the injured to some empty area near the entrance of the makeshift cave. Absentmindedly, she notices that it is almost night-time, a few soft sun rays losing their battle to the moon in the horizon.
“What do you wanted to talk about?” she asks him.
“We have a new target. Tonight. You should prepare yourself” he informs her.
Katara expression turns from perplexation to displeasure quick. “We just had a new wave of injured a couple of hours ago. You’ll be putting them in danger by attacking the Fire Nation. Besides, I’m needed here” she reminds him.
“You’ll be needed in tonight’s attack” he reasons, “besides, this might be a big one”.
That piques her interest. “What do you mean?”.
Jet sighs. Despite being only sixteen years old, she notices sometimes the bags beneath her eyes and the frown lines fixed on his forehead and between his brows that makes him seems older that he is.
“Longshot found a Fire Nation close by,” he closes his eyes, “he thinks they may be headed towards Ba Sing Se”.
Katara’s eyes widens. “You don’t think they may invade the city, right?”.
Ba Sing Se became the last standing place on earth free of Fire Nation reign after they had managed to subdue the Northern Water Tribe. The city was considered the last safe place for the constant incoming waves of refugees, and she does not want to even think in the consequences of the city falling to the Fire Nation.
“I don’t know,” he admits and his face is more solemn that she is accustomed to, “but we cannot risk it. If we lose the city, it would mean that all the work we’ve done the past six years was in vain”.
“We cannot keep going like this,” she whispers, “we don’t have enough fighters to stand as a last defense”.
He crosses his arms in front of his chest, dejection perceptible all over his body. “I know, which is why after tonight’s attack I’m leaving with Smellerbee to Ba Sing Se to ask for more resources,” his lips tug upwards a little bit, “and I’m leaving you in charge until I come back”.
Her expression brightens. “So you’re ready to admit I’m a more capable leader than you?” she teases, trying to alleviate the gravity of the situation.
He snorts. “Don’t be so full of yourself”.
“That’s rich coming from you” she shots back.
As quick as his smile appeared on his face it quickly fades. “Prepare yourself for tonight; it’s going to be a hard one”.
“You say that like the ones before had been easy” she quips, but she knows that what little levity they were enjoying earlier was over already.
She braids two thin strands of hair that frames her face and tie them together in the back of her head. She wraps the white fabric around her wrist and up to her elbow and she unbinds her mother’s necklace from her neck to place it a tiny box hidden under her mattress, making sure she will not accidentally lose it in the attack. She binds two water pouches on her back and two on the front and stands up to meet the rest of the Freedom Fighters.
She is ready for tonight.