"No..." Katara dropped to her knees in front of what was left of the small Earth Nation town, "all this carnage...all this destruction..." Her eyes teared as she reached forward and gently touched a charred block of wood. Zuko knelt beside her, the two of them alone among the many lifeless bodies.

"Do you see what I mean?" he asked, "do you understand why we're after her? She has to be stopped!" He pulled Katara towards him, holding her in his arms, "Azula has to be stopped..." Katara turned into his shoulder and cried.

"How can the Fire Nation be so ruthless? How can they just burn down everything, everyone, in their path?" She cupped her face in her hands and sobbed. Zuko watched as she shook with sadness, and felt an urge to cry along with her, but he didn't. He had to be strong, there was no one else to.

The sun had just begun to set, casting slight shadows which shimmered as their creators stirred. The sky was a deep blue, with not a cloud in sight. The sun, just barely peaking out over the mountains in the distance, cast purple and red shades of color into the heavens, setting them ablaze.

With a mournful wail, the wind picked up, blowing against the trees, and scattering the dead leaves, cracked and blackened with soot. All the houses had been burned, leaving only a few boards behind to groan and creek in the empty wind. Katara continued to cry, although her heart wrenching sobs had begun to die down. Solemnly, Zuko scanned the shambles around him. Bones lay everywhere, marking the places where the unthinkable had occurred. Mothers lay with their children, trying to shield them from the evil. Every now and then clothes would mark where a Firebender had gone down, only to be avenged by another. Soot covered everything, giving an appearance of complete shadow. The only thing still standing was the well, it's water reddened with death.

"I hope Aang is okay," Katara mumbled. Zuko glanced down at her, unaware that she had even stopped crying.

"Where is he?" he asked her quietly.

"He took Sokka and Toph, they're..." She looked at Zuko, eyes portraying sorrow, "they went after your father..." Zuko closed his eyes and stood, hands balling into fists clenched so tightly that they were almost pure white.

"Zuko, I'm so sorry," Katara reached out to comfort him, but he turned away.

"It doesn't matter to me. That man is not my father." He strained against the tears that were striving to come, and managed to hold them back.

"I-"

"Why didn't you go?" Zuko asked, turning to face her. Katara stepped back and stumbled, catching herself just before she went down. She turned her back on Zuko, to hide her shame.

"Aang wouldn't let me," she crossed her arms defiantly and turned away, "he said that it's too dangerous. But I wanted to go!" She whirled around to face Zuko, "How could he not let me?!" The water in the well splashed over the edge as her temper unfurled, staining the ground red.

"He cares," Zuko stated simply.

"...what?" Katara looked up at him, arms falling motionlessly to her sides.

"He didn't want you to go, because he doesn't want anything to happen to you. He cares for you so much, Katara." Katara fell silent and dropped her head, so that she was staring at the ground.

"Aang..."

"You care about him too, don't you? I can tell."

Katara nodded, "Yes, I do." Zuko smiled solemnly.

"Then promise me something," he said.

"What?"

"Promise me that, the next time you see him you'll tell him how you feel, no matter what circumstances, because the next time you see him could be the last, and then it'll be too late...and he'll never know how you felt..." Zuko blinked away the tears beginning to form, "don't make the mistake I did. I never told him, and now..." Hot tears slid down his face, but he wiped them away and held the rest back.

Katara walked over to him and placed a soothing arm around his shoulders. There was a moment of silence before she spoke.

"You miss him, don't you?"

Zuko nodded, "I never had a chance to say good-bye."

"Zuko," Katara rested her head against him, "Iroh knew how much you cared. He still does. You don't have to feel guilty about it."
"I never told him how much I needed him, or that I thought of him as a...as a father to me."

"Zuko, you-"

"No," he shook her off and pulled away, "enough of this. We have to get back to tracking Azula."

"She's impossible to find, Zuko," Katara began, "I know you want to avenge your Uncle, but even if we find her, what then? She's so much stronger then us. I'm not sure of what we could do."

"I can stop her. I must."

"Then what?" Katara asked, "It's not like getting rid of Azula is going to stop this war."

"I know," Zuko said, "and I know that I alone cannot make a tremendous difference, but I have to try. I have to eliminate Azula, no matter what the cost." His fists sparked and his face shown with anger and determination. Katara bowed her head in silence, fingering her mother's necklace. When she looked up again Zuko was sitting on the ground, his back to her.

"I'll go see if I can find anything for us to eat," Katara said quietly, "I understand we're tracking Azula, but we need food and drink." She watched Zuko breathe, his shoulders slightly rising as he inhaled.

"Very well," he replied. Katara turned and walked off, her footsteps echoing in the vast emptiness. The wind picked up again, stirring the debris around Zuko into the air, and setting them down in another unholy spot.

He grudgingly rose to his feet and walked towards something shining a few feet in front of him. Looking closely he saw a small Fire Nation insignia, apparently ripped off of a Fire Nation sleeve. He lifted it, setting it ablaze, and watched it burn until it was nothing more then a smoldering pile of gray ashes. He started walking again, stepping over rubble and remains.

Leaves blew around his ankles and he stopped in front of a doll, lying face down in the refuse. He stooped down and gently lifted the doll to his face. Standing, he traced one finger over its smiling mouth.

"You don't know pain or suffering," he said jealously as he caressed its handcrafted dress, "you were born in a world full of happiness and peace. But that's not life, that's not how it is. No one is that lucky. You think you have it great, but something will go wrong. Something will always take that away from you..."

Katara silently approached behind him, holding a loaf of bread in her hands. Zuko turned to look at her, then turned away and began walking towards the well. He bent down and brushed away the sooty debris, then set the doll on the clean spot of ground. He turned his face to hers, and spoke.

"The only things that remain. A well red with horror, and a doll...alive with the wonders and love of the child who owned it." Katara stepped next to him and helped him to his feet.

"I only found a small loaf of bread," she ripped it in half and handed him one of the pieces. He stared at it incoherently for a moment.

"Would the world really be more peaceful if everyone were killed?" Katara paused before answering.

"No," she looked out at the massacre around her, "everything will be alright."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't, but we have to hold onto hope. It's the only thing we have left."

Zuko bowed his head in silence, his chest rising and falling with each painful breath.

"Easy for you to say," he said jealously, "you have something to look forward to, I don't."

"What do you mean?" Katara asked.

Zuko ripped off a piece of bread and swallowed, not even bothering to chew, "You and Aang, you have each other. The only people I've ever loved are both gone from my life." He thought of his mother and uncle, and rage welled up inside him. Not knowing what to say, Katara chewed on her bread as though it were sandpaper. They ate in silence for a moment before Zuko spotted a thin trail of smoke wafting up between the trees in the distance.

"Azula..." he muttered, and started off in the direction of the smoke, dropping his bread onto the dirt beneath him.

"Azula?" Katara looked in the direction Zuko was heading and saw it. The sun had almost completely set, and there, amongst the many reds and purples was a thin tendril of smoke stretching up into the heavens like a gnarled finger, on a hand reaching for something it could never grasp.

"We're getting closer," Zuko said, quickening his pace. Katara had to jog to keep up.

"We're still not close enough..." Katara stated, but Zuko chose not to hear her.

"I'm going to make a difference," Zuko said more to himself then to Katara, "ridding the world of Azula will save a lot of innocent people from their deaths."

"But it won't save them all," Katara whispered.

"I know," he blinked away the tears blurring his vision, "but then again, can anything save us? I'm not sure if we'll ever truly be free from this demon which surrounds us all, this inferno."