Chapter Text
It was a normal day; the sun shone down on the endless ice, and in the distance, she could see penguins gliding across the ice. It was a peaceful day; the village was bustling, and you could hear the children laughing as they played. Katara was excited to show her family the new waterbending move she’d taught herself; she was now able to lift a little water and keep it in the air for a few seconds.
She was so happy that she didn’t notice the change in mood in the village. She bumped into a man and fell to the ground, and only then did she notice something strange in the snow: a grayish snow was falling from the sky that, upon hitting the ground, stained everything. Katara got to her feet and went to find her father to ask him about the strange snow. She found her father staring out at the ocean, his gaze fixed and his face filled with terror. She had never seen that expression on her father’s face; he was always a steadfast man and never showed his fear. Katara approached him and tugged at his clothes to get his attention.
“What are you looking at, Dad?” she said as she turned her gaze toward the sea, watching three enormous black ships rapidly approaching the village shore. “Why are ships coming this way?”
“Katara, find your mother and hide. Don’t come out until I come to get you.”
“But why, Dad?”
“Listen to me and run!” Hakoda shouted to emphasize the urgency of his words.
Katara was startled by the shout and felt like crying, but she realized that whatever her father had asked her to do must be important.
She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, and halfway there she heard a sound she had never heard before. She turned around, and the ship had already docked; too many men in identical uniforms were disembarking from it. The sight terrified Katara, and she kept running until she reached her home.
Inside her house was her mother, who was finishing up dinner and hadn’t noticed the commotion outside.
Katara rushed to her mother’s side and began to cry as she tried to relay her father’s instructions.
“Dad… said… that… we… should hide,” she said with difficulty, as tears streamed down her face and her sobbing prevented her from speaking clearly.
“Don’t worry, take a deep breath, and tell me exactly what your dad said,” Kya said in a calm tone to reassure her daughter.
Now Katara was feeling better after following her mother’s advice; she was ready to talk.
“Huge ships arrived,” Katara began, “and men in uniforms came out of them. The snow is turning black outside. And Dad said we should hide until he comes to get us.”
Kya’s expression changed as she took in the words. This situation could only mean one thing: the Fire Nation. They had to hide. She took Katara by the arm and led her to a corner. She hid her among the belongings and covered her with furs to keep her from being seen. Kya was about to hide herself when she heard footsteps outside the house. She knew it couldn’t be Hakoda; he wouldn’t be walking so calmly while the Fire Nation was invading them. Kya grabbed the first knife she found and held it with both hands. Her hands were shaking. Even so, she was determined to protect her daughter with her life.
A man dressed in black walked through the door, his uniform accented with red and a helmet covering almost his entire face.
The man smiled when he saw Kya and her pathetic attempt to protect herself.
“You’ll need more than a little kitchen knife to hurt me,” said the soldier.
In response, Kya gripped the knife even tighter.
“I’m looking for a waterbender,” said the man. “I was told there was a waterbender in this village, so I came to find him.”
Kya’s breath caught for a few seconds. She thought: A waterbender? Are they looking for Katara? How did they find out about her?
“There are no waterbenders here,” Kya said firmly. “The Fire Nation took them all away a long time ago.”
“You’re lying. My source says there’s one waterbender left in the Southern Water Tribe. We’re not leaving until we find the waterbender.”
Kya was afraid; she didn’t know what the man would do if he found out about Katara. She didn’t want to imagine what would become of the village after they’d wiped out everyone until they found Katara. She didn’t know what to do; she wished Hakoda were there with her—at least then she’d feel some strength. But he wasn’t there; it was just the soldier, Katara, and her, and it was up to her to save Katara.
“If I tell you, do you promise to leave the rest of the village alone?” Kya asked.
At this question, the man simply nodded, accepting the deal.
“It’s me. Take me as your prisoner,” she said firmly, hoping this lie wouldn’t be discovered until they were far away from the tribe.
“I’m afraid I’m not taking any prisoners today,” he said in a mocking tone.
Confusion crossed Kya’s face. If he didn’t plan to take her as a prisoner, then what would he do with her?
She didn’t have time to question the man’s words any further. A burst of fire engulfed her body. It all happened so fast that she didn’t even have time to scream.
From the corner, Katara watched everything unfold. She realized her mother had lied to protect her. She tried hard not to scream or cry. When the man left the house, Katara came out of her hiding place and, trembling with fear, ran off to find her father.
Everyone was celebrating the soldiers’ retreat. Katara scanned the area for her father and spotted him in the distance—there he was, standing next to Sokka, both proud of their victory.
Katara approached them and called out.
“Dad!”
Her cry alerted Hakoda, and he turned to look at his daughter.
“Katara, I told you to stay hidden until I came to get you,” Hakoda scolded her, “but it’s okay—the bad men are gone now. So you can come out.”
“No, Dad…” Tears streamed down her face. “A man came into the house and did something to Mom.”
Those words were enough to turn Hakoda’s happiness into fear. He began to run to find his wife. He pulled back the animal skins covering the entrance and found the body of his wife—the woman he had loved more than anyone else in the world, the mother of his children, the woman with whom he had hoped to share his entire life. He felt as if a part of his soul had been torn away in that moment. He fell to his knees beside her body and held her hand, searching for the warmth her hand once had; now they were cold and still.
He began to weep beside her, unable to contain the emotions he was feeling.
From the doorway, Katara watched everything unfold, her eyes filled with tears and her sobbing unceasing. She sensed someone beside her and looked at her brother, Sokka. He hadn’t understood the situation and took a step toward their father to see what was happening.
Katara grabbed his arm and held him back to keep him from getting closer, hugging him tightly so he wouldn’t move.
“What’s going on?” he asked as his gaze swept across the room until it landed on the lifeless body on the floor; recognizing the clothes she was wearing, he said, “Mom?” He broke free from Katara’s grip and ran over. “Mom, Mom… Mom, what happened, Mom?” “Mom, wake up,” he began to say as he shook her body until he realized she wouldn’t wake up again. His mother was dead.
Months had passed since her mother’s death, and Katara still felt guilty; she was constantly plagued by thoughts like, If I had been a waterbending master, I could have saved my mother. If I hadn’t been such a coward, I could have done more. My mother’s death is the Fire Nation’s fault for invading her village, and it was also her own fault for letting her mother sacrifice herself for her.
Daily life at home had never been the same; his father spent all his time training away from home and organizing the men to go to war in a few years. Sokka often enjoyed watching his father train and trying to imitate his movements. And both Katara and Gran Gran took care of the house, cleaning and cooking for everyone.
Katara wanted to keep practicing waterbending, but both Gran Gran and Hakoda forbade her from doing so. There was a risk that the Fire Nation would find out there was another waterbending master in the tribe and come back for her.
Katara felt helpless and frustrated. If she had a real waterbending master, she could become a master herself. But there wasn’t a single other waterbender in the entire South Pole. They’d all been captured by the Fire Nation.
If only she could have a master to teach her all the techniques. Surely her sister tribe in the North would have hundreds of waterbending masters.
The Northern Water Tribe—that’s it. If she could make it all the way north, she’d surely be able to learn waterbending. But it’s on the other side of the world; it would take her forever to get there by boat. But if she doesn’t go north, what other chance does she have to learn waterbending?
Her mind was made up. Katara would head north, searching for a master.
With the plan in motion, Katara began preparing for the journey. She set aside a portion of her food each day to save up enough for a few weeks. She had to hide all her supplies in a place where no one would ever go. She stashed everything in an old, abandoned Fire Nation ship. The young people were strictly forbidden from going near the ship, due to the risk of traps. Katara was no longer afraid of the ship; in fact, she had grown to like the place—a secluded spot where no one bothered her and where she could practice waterbending.
After a month of planning, Katara was ready to set out on her journey. She had already chosen the boat she would use—a small one that no one would notice if it suddenly disappeared. Even if they realized the boat was missing, Katara had slightly damaged the other boats; the damage was minor and would take about three days to repair, but that was enough time for her to get away from the village without being followed.
Katara got up after midnight and looked one last time at her sleeping family. She took the necklace she had inherited from her mother—the last memento she had of her—and placed it where her family could see it. Katara smiled sadly; if everything went wrong, this would be the last time she would see her family. If everything went well, she would return in a few months as a waterbending master, and perhaps she would even have the North’s support in the war. With tears in her eyes, she left her house without looking back and walked toward the abandoned ship.
She gathered all her belongings and made her way to where she had hidden the boat she would use. She had to be quick if she wanted to get away without being seen. She loaded all her things and set sail northward. She held back her tears as best she could until she was far enough away that no one could hear her. At that moment, tears flooded her eyes, and heart-wrenching sobs escaped her throat. Despite feeling immense sadness, she couldn’t go back to the village. This was her best option. With great effort, she wiped away her tears and continued on her way north. She would find the Northern Water Tribe and get help.
The days went by; sailing across the ocean was harder than she had thought. It hadn’t even been two weeks, and she already felt like she was going to die in the middle of the sea. Her food was slowly running out; she hadn’t anticipated that the journey would be so long. According to her calculations, she probably still had a month to go before reaching her destination. In her current situation, her only option was to keep moving forward; she was too far from home to turn back, so her only choice was to keep sailing and hope for the best.
By the start of the third week of the journey, her food had finally run out. Her attempts to fish had failed. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her mother; the image of flames engulfing her body and burning her alive invaded her mind and wouldn’t let her rest. Direct exposure to the sun’s rays began to cause multiple burns all over her body; her skin was irritated and peeled easily.
She missed her home, her family, and her friends—she missed the snow and the comforting cold of her home.
Now she was beginning to hate the sea, and for the first time since she set out on her journey, she thought about how much she regretted running away from home. Katara realized what her fate would be; it had been reckless to leave her home. She had chased an impossible dream and believed that if she set her mind to it, she would achieve it, but she was wrong—she never had the chance to fulfill her dream. She should have stayed home and tried to overcome her trauma; perhaps someday she might have been able to achieve her goals, but now she would never know what might have happened in the future.
Her arms no longer had enough strength to keep rowing; she let the oars fall into the boat and settled as best she could on the worn wood. She looked up at the clear sky. She gazed at the sun one last time. A tear rolled down her cheek before evaporating in the intense sunlight. Then she slowly closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Several kilometers away, a small boat from the Fire Nation was sailing. Its design made it clear where they were from, but it wasn’t a warship—rather, a small vessel used for personal purposes. Only two people were on board: an elderly man and his nephew.
“How much farther are we going, Uncle Iroh?” asked the boy, eager to reach their destination.
“Don’t rush, young Zuko. The best part of a journey isn’t always reaching the destination but taking in the sights the world has to offer. I always wanted to take this trip with Lu Ten, and now that he’s no longer with us, all I have left is to take the trip I always put off and scatter his ashes across the world.”
“Do you miss your cousin Lu Ten a lot?”
“I miss him every day. The only comfort I find is knowing that he no longer has to bear the burden of this war and that, at last, he can rest in peace. I spent too much time obsessed with conquering Ba Sing Se. If I’d come back sooner, maybe I could have spent more time with my son.”
Zuko fell silent as he remembered his cousin. He hadn’t been very close to him—the age difference was considerable—but he could recall that his cousin was very affectionate whenever he saw him. When his uncle Iroh and Lu Ten were home, the palace felt like a home, and everyone treated each other like family. He didn’t fully understand the pain his uncle felt over the loss of his son, nor did he know how to ease his grief. Zuko scanned the horizon, looking for anything that might change the subject and distract his uncle.
Iroh remained silent. His gaze drifted toward the horizon as the memory of his son’s laughter came to mind. He was about to shed a tear when he heard Zuko’s voice interrupting his thoughts.
“Uncle, what’s that out there on the ocean?” Zuko asked, pointing.
“What? Hmm, it looks like a small boat. But it seems to be empty—I don’t see anyone on board. Maybe it’s part of a larger vessel, and they left it here. We should probably get closer to take a better look.”
Iroh changed course and headed toward the small boat he’d spotted. When they were close enough, they both went to the bow to look inside the boat. What they saw left them speechless: a little girl lay there motionless. She was very thin compared to other children her age, her skin was sunburned, and she was wearing blue clothing.
Iroh didn’t think twice and climbed down into the boat; he wanted to check on the girl. If she was still alive, he would help her, and if she had already passed away, he would see to giving her a proper funeral—no one deserved to die like that, least of all such a young girl. Iroh was overcome with thoughts as he looked at the girl: How did she end up here? Had she been abandoned? Who could be so cruel as to leave a little girl in the middle of the sea?
When he climbed into the small boat, the first thing he did was check to see if the girl was still alive. He placed his hand on her neck and felt a faint pulse. Then he watched the slight movement of her chest as she breathed. The girl was alive.
He carefully picked up the girl, held her against his chest, and felt how light she was. He secured her against his chest with a rope to keep her from slipping as he climbed the ladder.
As he climbed, Zuko took a step toward them to check on the girl.
“Is she alive?” Zuko asked as he examined the girl’s body.
“She is. Help me carry her to the cabin. Bring me some water and clean cloths.”
When Zuko brought the water, Iroh dampened a cloth and carefully wiped the girl’s parched lips.
“Wet the cloths and gently clean the dirt from her body so we can treat her wounds. I’ll go find some medicine that might help her.”
Zuko nodded and began to carefully clean the girl’s body. Her skin was covered with small wounds and burns; from spending so much time in the sun, there were hardly any healthy patches of skin left.
A few minutes later, Iroh returned with a small wooden box. Iroh sat down, opened the box, and took out a glass jar containing a white cream.
“Take the ointment and help me apply it all over her body, especially on the burned areas.”
When they were done, they sat in the room in silence, waiting for her to wake up.
After three hours, Katara’s fingers twitched slightly. A moment later, she slowly opened her eyes.