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The Fire Nation was a beautiful country. It was deep in riches and overflowed with a pure culture. The citizens believed their country was the best country and nowhere else was worth living. No one went hungry at night. That is, if you were important.
The Earth Kingdom was beyond poor. The walls of Ba Sing Se were cover with grime all the way to the inner ring. The once rich, dressed in rags.
The Air Nomads—once a prosperous and influential people—had died out from starvation. Though one may see one wondering through a town, it is best to stay away. The air benders are very dangerous in their depression and rage.
The Northern Water Tribe is still intact though suffering. They had lost contact with their sister tribe many generations ago.
The Southern Water Tribe had to move away from the icy tundra. Everyone was too poor to trade with them and the beloved Fire Nation didn't care for the blue furs. They relocated to a small chain of islands many miles north of their original homeland.
No one traveled from nation to nation. Everyone was secluded to one land, one life, and one destiny.
~(~
Azula look out at the horizon miles in front of her. The sky was a radiant orange mixed with pinks and purples. But, of course, this natural beauty was no match for her own magnificence. Azula smiled slightly and looked down at the deep red robe caressing her body.
She was a princess and she worked hard to impress her people. Azula was sure they loved her more than the crown prince himself.
Azula sighed.
If she was so adored, why was she being forced out of the country on a vacation? And with her brother! At least she had her two best friends to help with her boredom. Except that the fact that Mai was practically drooling over Azula's older brother, Zuko, nearly had her biting her nails clean off.
Zuko and Mai weren't right for each other in her opinion. Not that she cared for either ones happiness but she could tell they just wouldn't work. Mai was dull and simple while Zuko was full of spirit. There was a flame in him that would never be tamed.
Azula knew this but didn't admit it to either one of the nobles. Why waste the energy?
Sure she had pushed them together in their youth but she hadn't realized it would go this far. It rocked her, but only slightly.
"Princess," Azula turned around and saw one of the ships guards approached her. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"What?" she asked.
"There is a storm coming our way and it would be best you went below decks."
"Are you kidding me? The night is fine . . ." Azula looked at the sky and noticed a large group of black clouds to her right. She bit her lip. "Alright,"
The guard nodded and bowed to her. He left to return to whatever duties he had.
Azula did as was advised—a rare sight indeed—and went to her room.
~(~
Katara, do this, Katara, do that. All day long! She was constantly told what to do. And why did she do it? Tradition.
The women cooked. The women cleaned. The women gathered. The women brought up the young. And what did the men do? They hunted, they slept, they ate, and they had sex.
But the men are the warriors! Women must bow down to them! Even if that particular woman is a master water bender trained by her grandfather, Master Paku. That particular woman must obey and serve the men in her life.
At least there was no husband—yet. Just her grandfather, father, and older brother.
But, of course, there should be a husband. Katara was sixteen. She was capable of conceiving children. She was young and beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful woman amongst her tribe. Katara was brilliant and independent as well, but no man cared about that.
Oh, yes, she had been courted many times. Marriages had even been arranged once or twice. However, Katara always scared them off. Her thoughts were too robust—constantly wandering in unthinkable directions.
Katara wanted to see things! She wanted adventure. She was so tired of the everyday life on the island. She cooked, cleaned and gathered fruits from the jungle with all of the other women. Boring.
Katara walked along the North Beach as the sun was setting on the ocean. She shifted her basket of edible roots to her left hip and sighed. It was moments liked this that she truly missed. Katara rarely had a minute to herself.
She stared out at ocean and had a feeling of longing. She had heard tales from her grandparents about the vast tundra the Southern Water Tribe used to inhabit. It sounded amazing; wild beasts around every glazier, colors dancing in the sky at night and snow that fell so thick one could hardly see ten feet in from of them. Katara had never see snow before.
Her grandmother told her about the beautiful blue and white clothing; furs from pure white animals that glistened in the sunlight. Katara glanced down at her light brown outfit. It was a brown dress that gathered at her wait and ended a tad bit above her knees. It was a simple outfit her mother had made for her many years ago.
Katara's chest knotted at the memory of her mother. Oh, how she missed her. Her mother, Kya, died of a strange disease ten years ago. None of the healers could save her. Kya spent her time making clothing; it was a way to distract herself from the pain. Katara wore the few outfits she made her very often and she never took off her mother's necklace.
The necklace was a rarity amongst her people. Her grandfather, Paku, had made it for her grandmother. Her grandmother had given it to her daughter who, in turn, gave it to Katara. It was one of the few things from the South Pole. The necklace was a diamond amongst coal.
Katara walked along the beach trail up to the bluff. The night had grown dark and the wind began to blow harshly. Katara looked up at the sky and noticed the lack of stars. As she continued her trek to the village, it began to rain lightly.
"Great," Katara mumbled. She shifted the basket to one hand and used the other hand to water bend the rain off of herself.
As she got closer to the village, the rain fell heavier.
Katara's boots slushed in the mud as she walked. She saw a light ahead of her and squinted against the rain. She could make out the wooden walls that protected her tribesmen. Of course, they didn't have any enemies on the island; however, the wall protected them from the occasional jaguar or pack of wild dogs.
Katara entered through the north gate to the village. Everyone was inside of their huts; staying dry and warm. She continued walking to the center of the very large village. Her family's home was in the rounded center of the community. Most of the homes were made of multiple animal hides with wooden frames, but her father was the chief. Her family lived in a long, solid, slightly rectangular, wood hut. It was half the size of the trade post, which was a very long, wooden, one story building.
Katara pushed aside the fur flap that was used at a door and entered her home. The fire had burned out while she was gone but the coals were still warm. Along the shorter, back wall were the family bedrolls. A few stools and chairs were set against the walls, which had furs hanging along them for insulation. Shelves were built into the left wall. Katara set her basket of roots on one of the shelves.
She was surprised her brother and father weren't here yet. Katara felt a sudden chill run up her back. She went to her bedroll and grabbed her blanket. She wrapped it around herself and sat in front of the hot coals. Katara had only waited for a few minutes when her father and brother came in. They were both soaking wet.
"Katara," her father said, "I was wondering if you were here. I'm glad you are."
"This storm is going be bad," her brother, Sokka, said. He wrung the water out of his pony tail.
"Sokka!" Katara exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "You're going to turn the floor to mud!" With a flick of her wrists she wrung the water out of the two men's clothing and hair. Her father leaned back and pulled the door flap open. Katara threw the water outside.
"What's for dinner?" Sokka asked and clapped his hands together. "I'm starving!"
"You're always starving," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I started some stew this morning over the fire. It should be ready by now." Katara removed the heavy cooking pot from the coals and set it on the single table in the one roomed house.
Her father, Hakoda, grabbed some wood from the wood pile in the corner of the room and began rebuilding the fire. The flames quickly caught and smoked danced into the air and exited the house through the small hole in the roof.
Sokka pulled off his boots and heavy furs. He changed into his only cotton outfit. Cotton grew on the far side of the jungle. It was a half-day's journey and was very dangerous. The cotton was very sparse so everyone was allowed only so much each year. Children never wore cotton—they grew out of it too quickly. Sisal also grew in that area, which was very important for making rope.
The cotton outfit had once been white but was now brown from years of wearing. Katara sighed; everything was brown here.
She ate the hardly edible stew in silence while her brother and father talked about different defense strategies. She couldn't understand why all of the men were trained as warriors. Who would ever come to their island?
Katara had heard stories of people dressed in silly red and black outfit that had attacked her people long ago. There had been a war—the Red People against the world. The red people could spit fire from their hands and they destroyed everything they touched. The war was the reason her tribe was forced to move north; the world had become to pour to trade with them. No one wanted their artic furs anymore; therefore, they had no way of getting fruits, vegetables, or minerals. Katara was told as a child of a powerful bender who was supposed to keep peace between the nations, but he or she disappeared over a hundred years ago.
Though they no longer had enemies, her father would always have soldiers ready to fight. She felt it was a waste of time. Instead of marching around and throwing spears they should be helping the women gather in the jungle! The jungle was very dangerous after all. If they wanted to practice protecting their families they should try by actually protecting their families.
More than once someone had been lost to the hazards of the jungle . . .
Katara shuddered as the memory of a distant scream echoed in her head. She decided not to think of it any longer.
"How about we change the subject?" Katara asked. Sokka and Hakoda looked at her with surprised expressions.
"Um, okay," Sokka said. The eighteen year old man looked at his father in question.
"How about we discuss your future, Katara?" Hakoda said. He knew his daughter would like this subject even less but she really need to be married! The girl spent her spare time daydreaming about far off lands, for goodness sakes! If only he could get her to settle down with a suitable man. Hakoda was sure a child would calm his wild child down immensely.
Katara rolled her eyes. "Father," she said. "I am not ready to get married. Especially not to some idiot like, Hunsan," she said.
"Katara, it is not right for a woman your age to be without a husband, and Hunsan is not an idiot. He is a very strong and honorable man."
"What about Sokka?" Katara asked and flicked her dainty hand toward her brother.
"What about Sokka?" her father asked. Sokka looked from one to the other and decided not to say a word. He stuffed his mouth full with octopus stew.
"He is eighteen and doesn't have a wife. Why must I marry if he doesn't have to?"
"Your brother has not found a suitable woman." Her father said through his teeth.
"I have not found a suitable man!"
"Katara," her father and yelled and jumped to his feet. "You are a woman, not a man. If I did not respect you as my daughter, I would have forced you to marry by now. That is what any other father would have done. Your refusal is disrespectful to me and to our tradition. You do not have the rights that your brother has. Like it or not you will marry by the next full moon." Hakoda stormed out of the house into the storm.
Katara burst into tears as soon as her father was gone. She ran to her bedroll and lay, crying. Sokka was completely helpless. He loved his sister but had to agree with his father. Sokka set his empty bowl down and walked over to Katara. He sat down next to her and awkwardly stroked her hair. This made her cry harder.
"You know he means well, Katara," he said, meaning to comfort. When she didn't respond, Sokka bit his lip. He sent a silent prayer to his mother; help me.
~(~
Zuko woke up to a loud boom of thunder. He had been sweating from the nightmare that had been haunting his unconscious state. Zuko raked his pale fingers through his ebony hair. He threw the blankets onto the floor and sat up.
Zuko's room was door and humid. The candles had burned out from earlier and shadows danced on the hanging tapestries. Zuko sighed and stood up from his bed. He grabbed his pants off the floor and slid them on. Then he picked up his red and gold shirt and tied it around himself.
Zuko opened his bedroom door and walked through the hallway. The metal ship lurched up and down, up and down. He leaned against the wall to keep his balance. Zuko arrived at his girlfriend's room and knocked on her door. She didn't answer. Good. She had been so seasick earlier that she was practically green. Sleep was the only way she could escape the nausea.
Zuko slowly made his way back to his room. He could hear the metallic sound heavy rain hitting metal ship. He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep. Zuko was suddenly thrown into the wall. His head slammed against the metal and pain exploded through his body.
He fell against the metal floor and a foggy darkness surrounded him. Zuko tried to stand but couldn't he yelled for help but his voice was small and weak.
"Zuko!" he heard his sister voice. "Zuko!" she yelled again. "What's happening?"
Zuko lost consciousness.
~(~
The village had to remain hunkered down for three days. The stormed howled and rolled over their large island. When it was over, the women and children worked on repairing the village and clearing debris. The men went to hunt.
Katara helped with clearing the debris. Palm fronds and shards of broken trees lay about. The clearing took many hours and a missed meal. Katara had cuts and bruises to show for her work. When she was sure no one was looking she snuck away. Katara had worked for many hours and just had to separate herself from her dear friend, Catori.
Catori was a tall, slender, girl who dreamed of being married with children. She was a year younger than Katara and couldn't fathom why her friend hadn't accepted a marriage proposal yet. Katara loved the girl; she was pure, sweet, and genuine. Catori never stopped talking.
"Katara, why don't you marry Hunsan? He is very handsome. Katara, are you sure you should be going into the jungle alone? Katara, isn't that dangerous? I find Lunen quite handsome. Do you think he would make a good father? I have a feeling he would be a clumsy lover though,"
She never shut up.
Katara exited the village through the south gate. She had a destination in mind and she desperately needed the space. Sitting at home for three days with her father had become very stressful. Her father had given her the cold shoulder and her brother took his side—of course.
Katara walk south until she reached the jungle edge. The trees towered above her with intimidating height. She looked behind her and glanced at her village in the distance. She always felt nervous when she did this; the jungle was very dangerous. One couldn't stress that enough, and, if she was honest with herself, she was slightly cocky because of her water bending skills.
Katara ventured into the jungle and was soon swallowed by the trees. She continued walking her memorized path to her favorite place on the island. She turned west when she reached a certain point in the jungle.
She guessed it was about three in the afternoon, but it was nearly impossible to see the sun through the canopy. Katara loved the jungle—when she wasn't being attacked by wild dogs. The ground bloomed with bright flowers; hibiscuses, primroses, orchids, and hundreds of others.
The trees were full of life giving fruit; mangoes, avocados, breadfruit, coco beans, dragon fruit, and so much more. Though it was all so beautiful, she was the one who had to climb the tress to yet the fruit. May the Spirits forbid her father or brother from doing backing breaking labor!
The jungle began to thin as Katara got closer to her destination. The ground began to incline sharply and Katara had to start climbing after a few feet. She could see the sun shining ahead of her and climbed quickly. She emerged from the jungle and could feel the wind coming off the ocean.
Katara stood at the edge of a cliff that overlooked the vast ocean. Below was a lagoon that had very deep water. Katara laid down in her stomach and perched herself up on her elbows. She sighed and daydreamed of faraway lands and creatures that were unknown to her.
Her time was running short and soon she would be married and pregnant. If only she could get away from here. However, she knew that would never happen. It wasn't that Katara didn't want to be married or have children; she just didn't want it right now. Her eyes were too innocent to the world.
Katara stretched and squinted her eyes against the sun. She had been here for about three hours. Katara stood and brushed the dirt off her dress. She was about to turn away when something caught her eye . . . something was out of place.
Katara got down on her hands and knees and looked over the cliff. She scanned the sandy lagoon but didn't notice anything wrong. Her eyebrows furrowed. Something just didn't feel right. She scanned once again and then did a double take when she saw the out of place object.
A man lay on his stomach to the far side of the lagoon. His skin was noticeably red from being under the sunlight for too long. He was barefoot with a tattered pair of black pants on and a redshirt. His hair was black but his face was turned away from her.
Alarms went off in Katara head. The Red People had returned! They were going to destroy her tribe—ill her family! She jumped to her feet and was about to take off back down to the jungle but something stopped her. She glanced back down at the man. He seemed to be unarmed . . . and he was alone.
Her logic fought her instinct. Logically, she should alert the village immediately, but her instincts told her there was a man who needed help. What if he died while she was gone? What if he was already dead? Katara decided she had to make sure he was alive.
Katara looked over the edge of the cliff and took a shaky breath. She threw herself off the overhang and wrapped her arms around herself. The wind blasted her around her and sucked the air from her lungs. She sliced through the water and sunk into the dark hole.
Katara relaxed her body and held her arms out. She beckoned the water around her to spin. Katara was lifted to the surface of the water where she sucked in a large breath. She swam to the shallow area of the water and walked onto the beach.
Out of habit, she used her water bending to dry herself. She kept the water around her hands in case the mysterious person attacked her. Katara crept slowly across the sandy beach toward the man. She stopped at few feet from him and waiting to see if he was breathing. When he took a short breath, she moved slightly closer to him.
Katara knelt down next to the man. She reached out and poked his side and then brought up her hand defensively in case he wasn't really unconscious. However, he continued to lie on the sand breathing shallowly. Katara let her guard down a little. She dropped her water and grabbed the man far side. She pulled his weighted toward herself and turned him onto his back.
She examined wounds, which consisted of shallow cuts and large bruises. Katara tested his limbs; checking for breaks. Nothing was seemed to be broken. Katara tenderly pushed on his scalp. She jumped when the man suddenly took in a sharp breath and then groaned. Katara found the spot on his head again and gently felt it. It was hard and swollen.
He probably has a concussion, she thought.
Katara's heart skipped a beat when she noticed the scar that engulfed his left eye. She touched the skin lightly. Suddenly his eyes opened and his hand grabbed Katara wrist. Katara jumped and tried to pull away.
"Please," he said in a course voice. She stopped struggling against him. Her blue eyes locked with his golden eye and felt a chill run down her spine.
"Help me," the man said and then he blacked out.
Katara gasped. She knew that without a doubt she would help him. How could she not? Katara stood and grabbed the man by the upper arms. She dragged him to the shade of a palm tree. She took off her water skin and placed it in his hand for when he woke up again. Katara turned to leave, but glanced back one more time and the strange man.
She had a strange longing in her heart, as if she couldn't bear to leave his side. She shook the feeling away. She had things to do other than gawk at the stranger.
~(~
Katara arrived at the village after dark. She jogged straight for her house. She threw aside the flap and practically sprinted inside. Her brother and father looked up from dinner. Katara was about to tell her family about the strange man but something told her to shut her loud mouth. Instead, she tried to act completely normal.
Katara sat with her family for dinner, listened to them talk with unhearing ears and went to bed early. Katara knew the suspected something of her but she didn't care.
She laid on her bedroll and waited for the sound of her father and Soka's snoring. Once she was sure they were asleep, she got up quietly. She grabbed the extra bedroll form the shelf and her blanket. Katara wrapped food up and put them in the blanket. She grabbed an extra water skin and left her home.
Katara had to take a different route to her guest this time; it was a much longer journey and took half of the night. When she finally reached the lagoon, she searched for the man under the tree but didn't see him. Katara gasped and dropped the bedroll. She began searching everywhere for him. She quickly found him; he was sitting up against the trunk of the tree she had dragged him under.
Katara picked up the bedroll again and cautiously walked to the man. She kneeled in front of him and replaced his empty water skin with the full one. Katara studied his face in the moonlight. He looked so different from her people. Katara reached up and brushed his hair out of his face.
His eyes slowly opened and she was staring into his mesmerizing eyes once again. He looked at her with confusion and then she heard his stomach growl. Katara turned and picked up the food; a bowl of octopus stew and roots. She gave them to him and he immediately began scarfing the food down.
She watched him with an amused look. He reminded her a little of her brother—the way he was eating, that is.
"Katara," she said and gestured to herself. Katara could tell the man was struggling to keep consciousness. She grabbed the bedroll and laid it out on the ground.