"Oh…where did I put those antibiotics…?" Katil rummaged through a rickety cabinet of small clay pots with her thin, tanned hands. Standing up on her toes she reached around to the back and pulled out a small green pot. Its top was slightly ajar and its rim was crusted from use.

"I must thank you again for offering your services,"

Katil turned around. "No, really, you don't need to thank me. It's my job." She laughed. The young woman walked over to the old man, "Now where is this wound?"

"Oh, I am not hurt." He chuckled heartily, "It's my nephew. He is probably still out in the woods—he is very shy." He added in a cheeky whisper. Katil cracked an awkwardly suspicious half smile, but went along with the old man.

"Alright…would you mind leading the way?" She asked. He nodded. She took a minute to grab her kit and followed him outside. The weather was gorgeous that day. Katil's raven hair, pulled into a large bun at the base of her neck, shone brightly in the sunlight, her dark eyes reflected the thick woods around her, and her modest, pale green dress fluttered in the mountain breeze. A few patches were coming loose, she suddenly noticed, as she followed this old stranger to who knew where. He was a portly old man with snow white hair and a pointed but relatively small beard. His eyes were golden and stately, with heavy lids a deep lines. If Katil hadn't already begun to think him a little bit senile, she might've assumed him to be incredibly wise. At the same time, he seemed familiar some how.

"He's just around this corner…" The old man assured her. She giggled under her breath, watching him for any sign of a limp or a stumble, but he seemed just fine. Still, it was nice to get out of the clinic.

However, when they turned the corner, she found a young man, maybe only a few years younger than she, clutching a torn calf. His eyes were bright gold, just like his uncle's, but unlike his uncle his body was trim and muscular, his short hair nearly black in color. But his face was what struck her. His cheeks were razor sharp and his lips thin and serious. He had a commanding yet immature air about him that took her by surprise. "Uncle I told you I could take care of this—I don't need any help!" He brazenly asserted. His uncle handed him calm and quiet excuses while the boy continued to fire back angry insults and curses. Katil didn't hear any of it. The boy had turned to face his uncle, and when he did, the crippling, deep, red scar marring the left side of his face came into veiw. She froze where she stood, and it was all she could do not to drop everything she was holding and fall to her knees.

She coughed quietly, "Um...so." She regained her composure, "What happened to your leg?"

"Well, we had been traveling for some time when he fell off of our ostrich horse-"

"Stupid thing bucked me off." he corrected, shooting his uncle a dirty sideways glance.

"Here…" Katil knelt down to address the prince's wound. His conversation with General Iroh came to an abrupt stop as he mildly attempted to keep Katil from doing her work. "It will only hurt a little…I'll have you patched up nice and quick…It'll only take a second…hold still—" she dabbed the antibiotics on the open wound. Prince Zuko grimaced, nails digging into his knee. Katil glanced around and picked up a thick stick. Handing it to him, she asked him to bite down on it until she was finished. He hesitated, watching her closely, but General Iroh placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, and he unwillingly clamped down. Still, he never took his eyes off of Katil as she and her nimble fingers got back to work. She painstakingly disinfected the slightly irritated wound, then opened her kit and withdrew a needle and thread. She could barely keep her hands from trembling as she pierced the crowned prince's skin with her needle and slowly began stitching him together. He groaned and ground on the stick with his molars as she worked. Every scrape against the dry wood sent shivers down Katil's spine.

It was over an hour later when she finally finished wrapping the leg in clean linens. Prince Zuko spat out the stick and tried to stand, but quickly crumpled to ground in a disgruntled heap. Katil wrapped his bad arm around her shoulders and hoisted him onto his feet.

"You won't be able to put any weight on it for a day or so-and even then you won't be getting anywhere fast."

"We have an ostrich horse. We need to keep moving-"

"No, nephew, I think the young lady is correct." General Iroh mused, "You need time to rest. If your wound becomes infected, there will be nothing I can do!"

"It's not like you're in any kind of a rush," Katil chuckled, "Not like you're chasing anyone, are you?"

"No!" Zuko insisted, nearly yelling. Katil blinked.

"I live alone in the clinic," she began after a few paces of silence, "you can take my room for the night."

"That is very kind of you, miss...?" General Iroh probed.

"Katil,"

"A very pretty name, for a very pretty young lady!" She blushed. General Iroh peered at her for a moment, but stayed quiet.

They arrived at the clinic a few minutes later. It was a crude little shack, in all honesty, dressed up with a poorly constructed porch and an old rotting sign reading "Doctor". The cramped front room contained a bench for patients, two cabinets for various medicines, serums, and creams, and a stubby counter that housed a host of trinkets: a dirty mortar and pestle, a rusty stove, a cast iron pot, various empty and crusted clay jars, discarded and unused herbs and berries, etc. The back room where Katil slept was hardly a room at all. It barely fit the thin mat she called a bed, the wooden plank walls let in a deadly draft, and the air inside was humid and thick. "Home sweet home," Katil shrugged, helping Zuko onto the bench. She restarted the stove fire with a couple of spark rocks, "Dinner will be on in an hour," General Iroh asked if there was any way he could help, and Katil, though a little hesitant, put him to work chopping vegetables and making the tea. Prince Zuko remained silent, arms folded, eyes on the ground.

Dinner was comprised of stewed lizard quail and roasted vegetables with a hearty bowl of steamed rice. Despite her humble living situation, she seemed to eat fairly well.

"So, miss Katil," Iroh began through heavy handed mouthfuls, "How does someone like you come to live in such a place?"

She smiled, swallowing her food, "It's a long story," she answered truthfully. Iroh prodded no more. "So," she turned on Zuko. He didn't look up. "Would you like seconds?" she asked, noticing his empty bowl.

"No." He answered firmly. "I'd like to go to bed now,"

"Oh here, let me—"

"No, no, I've got it!" Iroh assured her, hoisting his nephew up from the table. She slowly sat back down. Iroh whispered something in Zuko's ear. He shot a deadly look back at Katil, who had already returned to quietly eating her meal in peace—

There was a thundering sound coming from outside. Iroh and Zuko stopped to listen—Katil sprang up from her spot and ran outside. An ominous, orange glow loomed over the tree tops. "Oh no…"

"What is it?" Iroh asked. The smell of soot filled her nostrils, and then came the screams.

"Put Zuko in the bed." She whispered under her breath, eyes fixed on the glow.

"Excuse me—?"

"I SAID PUT PRINCE ZUKO IN THE BED!" She shouted. The two men were wide eyed as Katil ran to the small counter and ripped off the lock on the cabinets underneath. Inside was a plethora of Fire Nation weapons and armors. She ripped out a pair of gauntlets, chest and shin plates and, reaching deep inside, pulled out a short, black sheath with two ornate hilts poised at each end. She slipped the sheath around her shoulders. She looked back at Iroh, "Stay here and watch the clinic. If any one approaches, grab what medicine you can, and get out of here."

"What's going on?" Zuko demanded, "How do you know who we are?" She gave no answer. Before Zuko could make any other kind of protest, she was sprinting out the door, untying their ostrich horse and riding off towards the climbing cloud of acrid black smoke. "Uncle…do you think she'll turn us in?"

Iroh closed his eyes and grunted, shaking his head, "No, I don't believe so,"

"How do you know?" He asked, worry laced through his voice,

"That girl has been evading the Fire Nation army for over six years. It would mean certain capture if she attempted to have us arrested." Zuko stared at his uncle with wide eyes, but Iroh was focused on the village burning over a mile away. "Her real name is Kazue. About six years ago, conscription officers arrived in her village demanding that all able bodied firebenders be given to the army for training. She was only twelve. Some how, she escaped, and began tormenting Fire Nation camps along Earth Kingdom coasts. She has slaughtered many good men." He added gravely, "About two years ago stories of attacks began to slow to a complete stop. It seemed she had be killed. But here she is, risking capture to save an Earth Kingdom village that reviles her,"

"How do you know that?" Zuko asked.

"Why do you think she lives all of the way out here? I imagine that she came to this village and told them out right who she was, and in return for her honesty and humility, they sent her to leave in exile." Zuko turned his eyes towards the village, his brows furrowed in thought.

Katil leapt off of the moving ostrich horse and landed in a sprint. Nearly all of the small thatch roofed houses were ablaze and the people were scrambling every which way, screaming and latching onto each other for safety. Rhinos stormed the roads. It was a small band of specialized Fire Nation soldiers. Katil scowled, diving into the fray. One by one she leapt onto the rhinos behind their riders, snapping necks and directing the animals out of the village. Four soldiers down, she leapt from the last fleeing rhino and climbed onto the roof of one of the tallest buildings. Her eyes found their leader, a tall, hulking man with thick brown facial hair, wielding a large Fire Nation flag. He planted the flag deep in the center of the town square, his bulging arms rippling with the immense force.

"I CLAIM THIS VILLAGE IN THE NAME OF THE FIRE LORD!" He yelled, his beady eyes glowing in the light of the fire. Katil reached back and slowly drew her short, twin swords. Their deadly sharp edges glinted as she rose onto her delicate toes. In a sudden flash she leapt from the roof, blades pointed at the man's heart—

"HAH!" He yelled, his leg springing up in a flaming arch. Katil spun out, dispersing the flames with her blades, and hitting the ground in a hard roll. She leapt on her feet, knees bent, swords poised. "So you are the one who's been killing my men." He growled, drawing his hands in a wide circle, a dense ball of fire gaining power in his hold.

"And you're the one who's been destroying my village," She snapped. He grinned.

"Yes, I am," a wall of flame charged from his fists with a loud roar. Katil dodged to the right, jumping behind a broken market cart. "COWARD!" He yelled. The cart exploded in flames just as Katil leapt out of the way. She dodged, he fired, she dodged, he fired—suddenly the main square was a wasteland of flames, but Katil was nowhere in sight. "WHERE DID YOU GO?" He called, "FIGHT ME—!"

Katil appeared behind him, blades crossed at his throbbing jugular. "I would rather end this quickly," she whispered in his ear. He froze and slowly raised his hands in the air.

"P-please…" he begged, "I'll leave right now—I'll never come back—JUST LET ME LIVE—!"

Katil sliced his throat open with one decisive moment, and his hulking body fell prone and lifeless on the ground, a deep red halo circling his pale, scarred face. Katil stared at his body for a moment. Digging her toe under his chest she rolled him over and saw a piece of paper sticking out from his belt. Again using her foot, she pulled it from his belt and unrolled it on the ground. Katil found her self looking at a younger, grinning, blodsoaked version of herself. She grit her teeth angrily and with a furious, adrenaline fueled grunt she stomped the poster into the ground with her heel, fire engulfing and obliterrating it. Taking a breath, she turned her attention to the village. The people had finally stopped running. Now they just stared at her, their horrified expressions quickly dissolving into anger.

"I knew letting a fire bender live near us was a bad idea!"

"She brought them here!"

"She's working for the Fire Lord!"

They were all yelling and moving in closer towards her…Katil inhaled deeply, raising her arms towards the village. They froze.

"She's going to kill us all!" Someone shrieked. Katil ignored them, slowly exhaling as she lowered her hands. With her motion, the fires destroying the village vanished.

"The fire…it's out!" Someone exclaimed. They all looked back to where Katil had been standing, but she was gone.

Iroh and Zuko were sitting on the small porch of the clinic when Katil returned, ostrich horse in hand. They watched her tie him off, then walk into the clinic, silent as a ghost. She threw off her weapons and armor, stuffing them carelessly into a small bag.

"Where are you going, miss Katil?" Iroh inquired.

"The villagers will be here within the hour to burn the clinic." She stated solemnly, tossing an extra set of clothes into the bag, "I thought I'd might as well leave before they run me out," she added with a sad chuckle.

"But you saved them." Zuko protested quietly from the doorway, "Shouldn't they be grateful?"

She shrugged, "Save them or not, I'm a fire bender. This day always comes." She stuffed a couple of clay pots into the bag, then threw it over her shoulder, grabbing a dirty canteen from the counter before heading out of the door.

"Where will you go?" Iroh asked.

"Don't know," Katil whispered. In the dim light, Zuko could see tears falling down her soft, blood flecked face. He looked away.

"We are heading towards Ba Sing Se—why don't you join us?"

"Uncle—"

"No, I'd only slow you down." She started slowly walking towards the forest.

"Nonsense! Don't you agree, Prince Zuko?"

Katil turned around. Her wet, shining eyes met his, the bright, harsh gold slowly clouding with sympathy…

"Fine," he muttered, "But only until Ba Sing Se,"

The faint sounds of shouting trickled through the forest. "It's the villagers." She wiped her eyes dry, "They're coming," Katil warned. She and Iroh lifted Zuko onto his feet and onto the ostrich horse, and they took off together into the night, Katil's devilish grin lighting the way.