Disclaimer: ATLA and LOK and all characters therein are not mine.
A Change in the Wind
X. Rocky Rapids
It was scarcely midmorning, but already Zuko and Iroh had arrived at Ember Island. Jin's hype had been more than proven—this little craft surely was the fastest thing on the Great Ocean, and beaming with the delight of piloting it, Iroh brought it to a rest at a rickety harbor.
"Oh, she is a real beauty," he sighed, passing his hand across the ship's wheel as the engine hissed behind them.
Zuko hid a smile as he loosed the mooring rope and clambered up onto the ramshackle dock. He felt reinvigorated, almost reborn, and he knew that he could not attribute such feelings to the pleasant heat of the bright sun or the refreshing tickle of the trade winds. Losing hold of everything that he had ever clung to seemed, oddly enough, to be a positive shift, but his cautiously good mood was tempered by their destination.
As the dethroned prince finished securing the ship to its harbor, Iroh climbed onto the pier as well and gazed pensively at the small, run-down house that perched upon the rocky shore; some of its windows were boarded up, as if it had been vandalized, and its grounds were overgrown with wild sea grasses and other tropical shrubbery, indicating that its owners never dared to venture outside.
Zuko followed his uncle's gaze and delicately touched his newly shortened hair, an absentminded sort of reflex that he had been miming all day. "I wish I had better news," he remarked, a hint of lament in his raspy tone.
Iroh settled a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You tried your best, my nephew. They will appreciate that effort, even if it did not end in success."
Nodding dumbly, the younger firebender led the way across the warped wooden dock and up the rutted, rocky lane. Even after approaching, silence still reigned here, interrupted only by the now-distant crash and boom of the surf, by the occasional warble of a hungry gull, and by Zuko's fist as he knocked on the weathered front door.
"Go away," came an old woman's voice from inside. "We don't want any gawkers here. Go harass someone else."
But Zuko was not deterred; rather, his brow rumpled in sympathy, and he ventured, "Please, Madam Shaolin, I only wish to speak to you. I mean no disrespect—the opposite, really."
An ancient eye appeared in a large crack in the door, and it widened in surprise. "Prince Zuko!" she declared, and then the eye narrowed once more. "What does the royal family want with me now? I am already steeped in deepest disgrace. Can you not let an old woman wither away in peace?"
He sighed, hating the perception—however accurate, for the most part—that his family received. "Again, I mean no disrespect, Madam Shaolin. My uncle, General Iroh, and I…we simply wished to speak with you. Please, may we come in?"
The eye flickered aside, noting Iroh's presence, and then returned to the younger man. "Very well. Just for a minute, though." She stepped back and the door creaked open, and she glared at them with defiance shining bright in her eyes. "I don't have anything to offer you. We are poor enough as it is."
Zuko bowed slightly before he slipped off his boots and entered. "We do not ask for anything other than a few moments of your time, madam," he assured her, and he and his uncle were shown to a cramped kitchen, where a middle-aged couple sat at a table and watched the visitors warily.
"My son and his wife," Madam Shaolin explained with a brief wave. "Dishonored as well, per the terms of my husband's execution. Seven generations' dishonor, you may recall. Perhaps it is kinder that they have not had any children."
Zuko grimaced; he had thought it impossible to hate his father anymore than when he had overhead Ozai's gruesome plans for the Avatar's demise, but this was pushing to achieve the top spot. "I do remember my father's judgment," he said softly, and he shook his head. "I have never agreed with it. He is known, though, to render harsh punishments."
The old woman's gaze shifted to his scar. "Indeed he is," she conceded carefully, still uncertain what to expect.
Glancing aside at Iroh, who gave an encouraging nod, Zuko quietly explained his purpose. "After my banishment, I took it upon myself to search for the Avatar in the South Pole. I had always believed your husband's prediction, you see, and I thought that if I found the Avatar where she was supposed to be, then my father might restore your family's honor."
With guarded hopefulness sparking in the depths of her eyes, Madam Shaolin slowly lowered herself to a wobbly chair; her son reached over and rested a hand on hers when it lay on the table. "Y-You did?" she whispered. "And…did you find the Avatar? Is that why you are here? Have you come to tell us that our dishonor has been dispelled?"
The young firebender closed his eyes, his lips and jaw both tightening. "Only partially, madam. We did indeed find the Water-born Avatar in the South Pole exactly as the High Sage predicted, but…even though I brought this information before my father, he has…refused to acknowledge his mistake." His eyes burned in the darkness behind his lids, and he fought against the rising tears—he had shed enough of those today to last him a lifetime. "Your dishonor remains intact. My attempt to alleviate it was futile. I apologize for this failure. I tried. I really did."
With his eyes shut as they were, he was first aware of the old woman's approach when he felt her leathery, wrinkled hands taking hold of one of his. He stared at the gesture, bewildered, and raised his confused gaze to hers, and he was startled even further to see that tears were carving their well-worn way down her cheeks.
"Prince Zuko," she told him, "you have done this family a great kindness. It would have been nice to have had a more favorable outcome, but since that was dependent upon the whims of a cruel man, it has never been something we have truly hoped for. The fact that you made the effort at all restores my faith in this nation's future, for one day you shall sit upon the throne and the light of Agni will shine upon a more compassionate country."
His hand, still cradled in her gentle grasp, clenched into an impotent fist. "I'm afraid your prediction is not so accurate, madam," he whispered. "I have been disinherited. I shall never take my father's throne."
Madam Shaolin smiled faintly, her wrinkles deepening and multiplying, and patted his whitened knuckles. "You trusted my husband's word, Prince Zuko, and even though I have no ability to divine the truth from the Spirit World, you should trust mine as well. Some things are obvious, even to old women who have mostly gone blind. One day, you will be Fire Lord, and that will be a day of great relief and rejoicing for all of Agni's children."
He blinked, his throat thick, and managed a nod. "You honor me with your words, madam."
Her smile broadened. "And you have returned our honor with yours. We know it in our hearts now, and that is enough for our peace of mind. Thank you for all you have done. Thank you." She released his hand and bowed as deeply as she was able, and Zuko returned the gesture, bending his body into a right angle.
When they had both straightened, Madam Shaolin turned to look at her son and his wife before refocusing on the firebenders. "Now, it is a bit early, but I insist that you have lunch with us. Come, sit at our table; you have more than earned our hospitality."
Iroh happily took a seat. "If there is to be tea," he let them know, "I will be more than willing to brew it for us. Tea happens to be my specialty, you see."
Zuko reclined beside him and shook his head fondly. "Oh, Uncle…"
Huge fluffy clouds dominated the otherwise cerulean skies, but Sokka could tell that these clouds were of a gentler sort than he was used to in the South Pole; they weren't low and sullen and full of snow. All they promised was a brief reprieve from the beating sun and a forever-changing canvas for the imagination—he was fairly certain that he'd glimpsed one that looked exactly like a whale, and another one had certainly possessed a penguin-ish silhouette. But for all that, they remained far away; he had thought the clouds would be rather closer, and that a sky bison would certainly be able to achieve their height, but Appa passed through nothing but their shadows.
Additionally, Sokka had believed that flying would be warmer than sailing—they were closer to the sun, right? Shouldn't it be warmer? But he had discovered quite quickly that it was, in fact, the exact opposite, and as he sat on Appa's large head, reins clutched in his gloved hands, he kept his scarf pulled up and his hood pulled down, or at least, he tried to keep his hood down, but the wind of their passage kept knocking it off and freezing his ears. It was a somewhat miserable situation, and he peered down past the bison's head, watching the ocean stretch out beneath them.
They had made good time; travel by sky bison was colder but also considerably faster than sailing, although not appreciably fast all the same: probably only twenty knots at his best reckoning. After three days, they had left the treacherous archipelago of the Southern Air Islands behind them, and as he looked down at the vast blue surface, he spotted Kyoshi Island approaching, its distinctive bay making it easy to recognize.
"I'd like to see the Unagi try to get us now," he chuckled to himself, although, in all honesty, he would prefer that the monstrous eel stayed away. Appa might be out of the leviathan's range, but range was a tricky thing when it came to the Unagi—several miles, for example, still seemed insufficient. He shook his head of that, boasting instead with a bit of a smirk, "Hey, that's my potential future girlfriend's home island, right there."
No one heard him to congratulate him, and he hardly heard it himself as the wind whistled past his reddened ears. He swiveled at the waist regardless, glancing back at his companions. Katara and Aang were currently engaged in a rousing game of "Avatar in the Middle": positioned at opposite ends of Appa's saddle, the two benders attempted to keep their respective elements away from Korra, who stood in the center. The Avatar herself had achieved little success in airbending away from the temple's sanctuary, but she doggedly persevered all the same, determined to strengthen her spiritual connection.
Sokka's smirk broadened. "And my other potential future girlfriend," he observed smugly, watching as Korra spun away from one of Aang's gusts and snatched Katara's water whip out of the air. Conscientiously, he acknowledged that with Korra, he'd have to give it a little time—mostly just so he could surpass her in height and strength, neither of which would occur in the near future, but once they had…well, then he was practically guaranteed to be dating the most impressive girl in the world.
He sighed dreamily as he pictured it, his imagination not only making him taller and bulkier but also providing some very flattering facial hair, and it was as this thought was occurring to him that the waterbenders engaged in a tug-of-war over their element, which spiraled out of hand and concluded with the water whip snapping away and splashing directly into Sokka's foolishly smiling face.
Yowling and sputtering in protest, the warrior keeled over, Appa's reins flapping free as he thrashed in startled dismay. "Argh! Spirits, as if I wasn't already cold enough! Y-You people and y-your stupid f-fancy magic!"
Unperturbed, Katara bent the water from her brother's face and clothing, drying him out immediately, and Korra settled her hands on her hips and laughed. "Well, I think that's the end of that!" she declared, glancing at her opponents. "Good game, eh? Although I wish I had any sort of handle on airbending."
"You'll get it eventually," Aang assured her as he stepped off the saddle and reclaimed Appa's reins himself. "The fact that you can airbend at all here is progress—small, perhaps, but significant. You should be proud of that accomplishment."
Her countenance caught somewhere between a grin and a grimace. "Thanks for that, Sifu, but it's not very heartening when I can do more damage by just plain breathing on something than I can airbending it."
As Sokka clambered back into the saddle, he snorted at that remark. "When I was a kid," he revealed, "I used to think that was all airbending was. I pictured airbenders running around with puffed-up cheeks and furious expressions as they blew their breath at each other. Obviously, I was never much impressed."
One of Aang's eyebrows arched in an utterly unamused expression. "I trust you have changed your opinion of us," he said, rather coldly.
The warrior grinned widely and patted the monk's shoulder. "I'll let you know whenever you manage to convince me otherwise," he teased, a statement that only served to worsen Aang's mood.
"Now, now," Katara chided in absentminded reflex, "be nice, Sokka. And also, please please please never tell me what you initially thought waterbending involved, because I really don't want to know."
He looked at her in mock surprise. "You mean, waterbending isn't when you spit at someone?!"
Korra smirked and supplied, "Only when we're feeling particularly mean, Sokka." She paused as a more serious segue occurred to her. "But we certainly could waterbend our saliva…I mean, I've waterbent my sweat—damn handy way to clean up after a workout. And Katara, only the other night you were practicing tear-bending."
The younger girl settled her chin in her hand with a sigh. "Yes," she grumbled, her tone dripping sarcasm, "my great specialty."
The Avatar shoved her shoulder in a gentle, playful way. "No need to get all miffed; I was complimenting your ingenious discovery," she said. "I wonder, though, if we could waterbend our blood, too. I mean, it's a liquid, so…" She trailed off with a curious shrug.
Katara pulled a face. "Ugh, that's gross, Korra," she replied, her nose wrinkling. "Isn't it bad enough to be bleeding to begin with without bending it all over the place?"
Sokka wasn't so convinced. "It'd be gross, alright, but terrifying, too. Can you imagine someone with dark red blood whips, slinging 'em around like some kind of nightmarish monster?" He shuddered. "That'd be the way to get the upper hand in battle. Make your enemies bleed enough and then scare the crap out of them by smacking them around with their own blood…I know I definitely wouldn't want to keep fighting. That's leagues beyond the 'creepy' threshold."
His sister put her hands over her ears and vehemently shook her head. "I'm done listening to you guys," she said loudly. "Let me know when the conversation turns back to normal."
"Alright, alright, we give!" Korra conceded, and she tugged Katara's hands down. "No more talking about the merits or possibilities of blood-bending. Even though I meant bending the blood that was still in our veins, not that deranged stuff that Sokka came up with. Really, what are you?" she asked him in casual tones. "An axe murderer?"
He sniffed at her, as if that were only a mildly offending accusation. "Never! If anything, I'd be a boomerang murderer," he declared, whipping out his favorite weapon and brandishing it with a dark smile.
Korra stifled a laugh. "You do realize that's no more reassuring, right?" she drawled.
"It's slightly better," he defended with a pout, and he petted the weapon. "It's okay, Boomerang, I still love you."
Before either of the girls could respond, Aang glanced over his shoulder and said, "We're coming up on the continent. It's getting towards evening, so we should probably land and make camp."
The Water Tribe teens all crawled to the saddle's edge and gazed at the vast, green land that dominated the northeastern horizon. They watched for a while as they drew closer and it grew larger, and Korra pointed out, "I think I see a Fire Navy outpost down there. See that black at the shore, all the smoke? We should avoid that."
Aang nodded, and he guided Appa onto a course that was a few more notches south, steering them towards a large bay that, dimly, they could perceive as receding into a river and was otherwise surrounded by mountains. "Looks like there's an Earth Kingdom village down there, too, but we'll avoid both of them to be safest. Who knows what the Fire Nation's occupying around here."
Katara and Sokka exchanged glances, and the girl spoke. "Er, we won't have to avoid all settlements, will we? Because living off the land is fun and all, but…" She trailed off meaningfully.
"Just the ones dangerously close to obvious Fire Nation forts," Korra replied, still taking in this aerial perspective of the Earth Kingdom's geography and comparing it with her memory of the map. "I think there's a city across this bay and up that river a bit. It'll take us until nightfall tomorrow to reach it, but flying in under cover of darkness is probably for the best, anyway. I mean, people will notice Appa if we ride him in in broad daylight, and people gossip, and loose lips sink ships, as they say."
"Or in this case, 'loose lips bring down sky bison'," Sokka contributed, and then he frowned. "Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, though, I'll grant you."
"No," the Avatar agreed, "not nearly."
Under cover of darkness, Iroh cut the engine, and the sleek black ship gently and silently rode the waves on its dissipating momentum until it nosed into the shore some ways north of Zhao's outpost. He glanced aside at his nephew as the younger firebender leapt overboard, splashing into the shallow surf, and asked, "Are you sure about this? It is quite a risk."
Zuko nodded, a resolute fire burning in the depths of his eyes. "There's no other way, Uncle. We cannot hope to locate the Avatar with only the two of us—she could be anywhere in the world, and searching at hopeful random won't get us anywhere. Azula will understand that as well, but she has the entire army and navy at her beck and call. Soon, every Fire Nation soldier in the Four Lands will be on the lookout for the Avatar, and since Zhao is the commander of the Southern Fleet, Azula will recruit him into her plans." He paused and shuddered at the thought of his sister and his enemy joining forces; the formation of such an alliance was very nearly a harbinger of the apocalypse.
The old man stroked his beard thoughtfully. "If Azula makes this outpost her base of operations, which is highly likely, as it is one of few forts established on the continent, then all information related to the Avatar's whereabouts will funnel through here first."
"At which point, all we—well, all I have to do is intercept those messages," Zuko concluded. "We won't be able to keep Azula in the dark forever, as there will doubtlessly be other messages sent after we've gone, but hopefully we'll have secured both ourselves and the Avatar enough time."
Iroh studied the boy, and he acknowledged that, to someone like Captain Jin, Zuko would be practically unrecognizable. Gone was the agony of indecision, the perpetual conviction that no matter which direction he chose, it would be the wrong one and that he would remain lost, and gone were the anger and ire that such confusion had spawned. He stood now so confidently: level-headed and strategic but still passionate for his cause, for the world's cause. Iroh could recognize him, though, because this Zuko was reminiscent of the noble boy he had been before sorrow and turmoil and cruelty had rendered him belligerent and self-destructive.
And Iroh could glimpse himself in Zuko, and he bore more than a passing resemblance to Ursa as well. It was as if he were watching a destiny being fulfilled, and he couldn't keep the paternal emotion from rising in his throat.
Gruffly, he remarked, "Before you go, I must tell you how proud I am of you, Zuko. I…am truly honored to call myself your uncle."
Somewhat self-conscious, Zuko scratched at the back of his neck. "Well, of course you're my uncle," he said. "Who else would've taught me all I know?"
Iroh swelled with even more pride, and he leaned over the ship's side and half-embraced his nephew. "Be safe, and be careful. Do not let them see you!"
The younger firebender patted the older one's back. "I know, Uncle. I will be," he promised, and he waded through the surf and up onto the dry beach, stealing away like another scrap of the night. He approached the outpost with dexterity and caution, keeping a wary eye out for lone guards and off-duty soldiers seeking relaxation out on the shore. Avoiding everybody he spotted, Zuko snuck onto the naval yard by virtue of taking a quick dip in the frigid ocean and climbing up onto an empty dock.
Shivering but not daring to use the breath of fire in case it drew unwanted attention, he crept along the pier and made his way to the armory. The door was unguarded but locked, and Zuko cursed under his breath at this sudden impediment. Left with little choice, he sidled around the corner to wait for someone else to need access, too.
He didn't have to wait terribly long, twenty minutes at most, before a soldier wandered over and entered the armory, leaving the door ajar behind him. Utilizing every last ounce of his stealth, Zuko tiptoed after him, squeezing through the partially open door and ducking into one of the rows of supplies. He heard the soldier sorting through things at the building's other end, and he flattened himself against the far side of a shelving unit, hardly daring to draw breath.
Eventually, the soldier located what he needed, and Zuko heard the door shut again. He exhaled relief and a few tongues of fire, warming himself up, and turned to his actual task. The equipment was easy enough to find, and he changed quickly out of his clothing and into the Fire Navy uniform, and for the first time, he was profoundly grateful that the Fire Navy favored full-face helmets; he had always considered it rather unnerving before, having faceless soldiers, but now it worked in his favor: when he settled the helmet on his head, he became just another soldier, no longer defined by a scar or a past or a name, and anonymity was a blessing in disguise.
Zuko slipped out of the armory and strode boldly across the naval yard, no longer needing to be furtive, and glanced up as he caught a glimpse of a diving falcon heading for the same destination as he was.
Now, truly, all he had to do was wait.
As the following evening faded into dusk and faded even further into twilight, Appa brought his passengers to earth once more, landing with startling lightness on the rocky river bank, and with a muted bass groan, he further descended to his stomach, not even desiring to stand after his exhausting day.
Aang patted the bison's fluffy head and airbent nimbly to the ground. "You did good today, boy," he said appreciatively, and the massive beast grunted in reply and licked up the monk's entire body with his tongue in what was probably an affectionate gesture. Covered in slobber, Aang grinned ruefully and glanced towards Katara. "Er, if you wouldn't mind…"
She sighed even as she assumed the appropriate stance. "Great. So Sokka wasn't wrong about waterbenders being spit-benders, after all," she lamented, but she did remove the layer of saliva and toss it away into the nearby river.
"I'm never wrong about anything," the Water Tribe warrior archly replied, and he dismounted gracelessly, hanging off the side of the saddle and all but falling the remaining distance to the ground. He landed awkwardly on his heels and tumbled onto his back after windmilling his arms failed to sustain his precarious balance.
Korra tossed their supplies from the bison's back and earthbent a rough staircase, which she and Katara used to dismount, instead. "I dunno, Sokka," she observed; "you were pretty wrong about that."
Rubbing his lower back, which had been prodded by the stones on the bank, he grumbled under his breath and stomped away from the river's edge, seeking solace in the soft, tufted grass that crowded the thin strip of land between river and forest.
Faintly amused by his misfortune, the Avatar dug about in a supply pack, withdrawing the worn parchment map. She unfurled it, studying its contents, and as Katara peered over her shoulder, the older girl explained, "We're here, see? We just crossed the South Sea, and now we're up the Nan Shan River. This is the town we avoided yesterday, Chin, and this is other one I remembered, Gaoling. In the morning, we'll head over there to restock our supplies, since we've pretty much run through everything we had from Kyoshi and from our own supplies that Aang had, er, borrowed from us."
"For which I apologize yet again," the airbender offered, already collecting driftwood to make a fire.
"An apology I dismiss, yet again," Korra replied without glancing away from the map, and she pointed indicatively for Katara's benefit. "Either way, we don't want to go into the Si Wong Desert only half-stocked, because after Gaoling, we just have to cross these mountains, and we'll be at our destination, so to speak, as the library could be, well, anywhere in this whole big area, but…I'm sure we'll find it sooner rather than later. And then it'll be off to the North Pole for us," she concluded decisively.
But the waterbender was nodding agreement, not concerned by the potential hazards and pitfalls in their route. "Sounds good," she said, and she glanced around the group with her arms crossing on her chest. "Now, who's going to help me with dinner?"
Korra furled the scroll, seemingly enraptured by the simple task. "I was gonna meditate," she admitted, not meeting the younger girl's eyes. "Avatar training and all that. Got a war to end."
Aang deposited the driftwood shards and began sneaking off. "I collected firewood, so…that was helpful, and in any event, I, too, should meditate," he remarked, continuing his not-so-subtle retreat.
That left Sokka, who had regrettably only half-listened to his sister's question. "Oh, you say something about dinner, Katara? 'Cause I'm starving! Sitting on a sky bison makes you a lot hungrier than you'd think, eh, guys?"
But the Avatar and the airbender were sidling away, although the former had the decency to light the campfire first, which left Sokka alone on the shore in the flickering glow and with an unamused Katara, who leveled him with a pointed look.
The warrior wilted. "Oh, crap," he muttered. "I just volunteered for something horrible, didn't I?"
She thrust the cooking pot at him. "Yes," she confirmed frankly, "you did."
Morning broke on the banks of the Nan Shan River, cool and clear and promising considerable warmth, and Korra noted the rising sun before returning her full attention to her tai chi meditation. She had landed the last watch, the rest of the group all still asleep, and she hadn't been about to let an opportunity to train go to waste. These past days had been a wash, after all—she had trained as best she could aboard Appa, but she'd been left feeling unsatisfied and rather stiff, even considering the meditation she had managed to squeeze in before dinner and the firebending she'd squeezed in after.
It still wasn't enough to stop a vicious despot who could bend lightning.
Sighing, she banished those thoughts from her head and refocused on the simple mechanics of bending, on how it felt to go through the airbending stances, on the freedom and the lightness of it. She thought that she sensed the faintest whisper of a breeze, but it was indistinguishable from the breeze that was already whipped off the river's rippling waves and, as far as she could really tell, might just be the latter.
"I can do this," she muttered under her breath, circling around the remains of the campfire as she had been doing for the past two hours without success. "I can do this…"
And as she slid with painstaking slowness and care through the motions, the air currents stirred, contorted into new courses as they bent to her will. Trying not to grin and become otherwise distracted by her fledgling victory, she molded the wind around her arms, around her body, letting it flow and twist. She knew that this was only the lightest of breezes, that Aang could dispel such an attack in a heartbeat and that she couldn't in any honesty call it an 'attack' at all, but…even so…
She was airbending.
Delicately, gracefully, she danced through the steps, daring to accelerate her pace, daring the wind to buck her control. But it remained within her power, whistling now as it followed her desired pathways, its speed increasing to match her body's, and it was beautiful, she realized. Such an elegant element…it was no wonder that it inspired such peace and contentment in its Air Nomad masters. She finally felt that she could catch at least a glimpse of Aang's everyday mindset, of his people's worldview, and she recalled that he had said air took the path of least resistance, which explained its constant avoidance of her—she was about as stubborn and solid and filled with resistance as they come.
But it yielded to her now, so she must be doing something right.
Nearby on the bank, Katara was the first to stir, shifting and squirming as she wriggled out of her sleeping bag. Stifling a yawn, she glanced aside at the older girl and quipped, "Hey, I didn't even suggest that you help me make breakfast, and already the meditating. That's quite preemptive of you, Korra."
The Avatar couldn't reply, her concentration still sequestered elsewhere, and while the waterbender frowned at her silence, she soon recognized its source.
"Spirits…are you airbending?" she whispered, getting to her feet and approaching with narrowed eyes, as if she believed that she'd be able to see the invisible element. But as Katara closed in, Korra gently directed the wind at the younger girl, pushing at her hair loopies and causing them to swing. She clutched at her swaying hair, hardly daring to believe it, either, and then burst into applause. "Oh, this is amazing! You're airbending outside of the sanctuary, and so well, too! Aren't you just thrilled?"
Korra cracked a bit of a smile, which was all the attention she was willing to dedicate to her expression.
Katara appeared to understand, as she clapped but once more and then turned her own attention to the breakfast preparations, shifting around in the cold embers of the campfire in search of a spark. When she couldn't find any, she rooted in one of the packs instead, extracting flint and tinder. "I don't mean to interrupt you or distract you, Korra, but I just have to say that it's been a long time since I've had to start a fire the old-fashioned way." She considered something and chuckled. "Sokka would be so proud that I'm resisting the fancy magic."
The Avatar snorted quietly, well able to appreciate the joke, and she struggled to maintain her newfound ability as the fire crackled into renewed life and the delicious scents of breakfast began to waft in her general direction. Neither of these occurrences served to worsen her focus, but time itself was degrading her control, and before Katara had even finished steaming the baozi dumplings, Korra's stint as an airbender had ended.
Feeling markedly drained but at the same time strangely elevated, Korra slumped back on the smooth rocks that formed the bank and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Oh, six hours of sleep is not enough for me," she groaned. "Too much training, not enough snoozing…and you'd think that meditation would be restful, and it is, kinda, but it's also completely not…"
Katara glanced up from her task. "You can try to catnap," she suggested. "You've got some time left. I haven't even begun steeping the tea yet."
The Northerner curled up, shaking her head. "Nah, I don't think I'm quite at the tipping point," she remarked. "Maybe after lunch I'll grab a little shut-eye. In the meantime, though, since I was a horrible friend last night, I shall make the tea."
The waterbender laughed softly. "You're not a horrible friend," she said. "I understand that you need to train. I mean, with everything you said in the Air Temple…" She trailed off, sobering at the memory, but aware that Korra was patiently waiting for her to finish, she inhaled a buoying breath and concluded, "Well, you are certainly welcome to make the tea."
Reaching over, the Avatar claimed the kettle and, seeking to lighten the atmosphere, joked, "Tea-bending is yet another little-known bending form, but it is actually best performed by firebenders, as, voila…" She cradled the kettle in one hand, grasping the handle with the other, and swiftly firebent it; it whistled shrilly, and she poured the steaming liquid into the teapot, which was already filled with fragrant leaves.
"It's more efficient, I'll give it that," Katara commented with a smile.
Korra's lips curved as well. "It's the little things," she remarked, and she wrapped her arms loosely around her knees and gazed at the river lapping the shallow bank. "You know, I'm really gonna miss the water when we head inland."
Deeming the dumplings done, the Southerner tipped them out of the pot and onto a plate, using bending to keep the boiling liquid in its place while the baozi tumbled free. "It will definitely be strange," Katara agreed. "I've never been away from water. Even when we were in the Air Temple, it was still there. Kind of far down, but…"
"But not exactly a desert, right?" the other girl said with a chuckle. "Being hemmed in on all sides by dry, dry sand will be an experience, right enough. Probably not the most pleasurable of experiences, but an experience nonetheless."
Katara simply lifted her brows in acknowledgement of that impending doom, and she rose to her feet, nudging her brother and the monk into wakefulness. "Get up quick, or Korra's going to eat it all."
The Avatar was already helping herself to the baozi. "That is not an empty threat," she let them know, biting into one of the soft, hot dumplings. "Mm! One of these days, Tara, you're gonna make something terrible, but that is not today!"
Still half-asleep, Sokka dragged himself closer to the fire, his sleeping bag twisted around his legs. "Wait, I want delicious food, too…"
Aang cast an askance glance at the warrior's unmannered posture, and then assumed his own very polite, cross-legged pose at the fireside. Cheerfully, the friends shared the simple but very tasty meal and briefly discussed their plans for the day, assembling something of a grocery list so that they wouldn't all be buying supplies willy-nilly and ending up with nothing but four bags of rice.
Their campsite was still some distance from Gaoling, but the friends decided to give Appa a break and completed the journey on foot, hiking through the woodlands along the Nan Shan River and ultimately strolling through the city gates.
Compared with the pitiful state of the Southern Water Tribe and the minor bustle of Kyoshi Island, Gaoling was bursting with life, its streets thronged with merchants, vendors, performers, pickpockets, urchins, and travelers. The market was in full swing, and shouted greetings and heated haggling broke out every three paces, and no one paid the Water Tribe teens or the Air Nomad so much as a second glance. As they had previously determined, they waded boldly into the teeming marketplace: Korra securing lower prices with a glare; Katara demonstrating that she had an astonishing amount of charm; Sokka arguing skillfully and with a keen eye for strategy; and Aang living up to his character as a recluse and getting thoroughly swindled by every merchant he approached.
When they regrouped in the center of the public square to review their spoils, Korra was distracted by a poster tacked up on a tree, and she tore it down and presented it excitedly to her friends.
"Look at this!" she exclaimed. "It says, 'The Earth Kingdom's Foremost Earthbending Tournament Is Back in Gaoling!'"
"'Earth Rumble Four," Katara continued. "'Test Your True Mettle in This Premier Fighting Arena. Do You Have What It Takes to Be a Champion and Win the Pot?'"
Sokka snatched it away. "Wait—it's a tournament and there's prize money? This'll make up for all the money that Aang just lost in the market!"
The airbender was about to protest, but the Avatar was snagging the poster back and turning eagerly to Katara. "Eh? So can I?"
Bewildered, the waterbender ventured, "Er, why are you asking me?"
"Because the tournament's apparently tonight, and this will delay us from finding the library, which will delay us from getting to the North Pole," Korra explained. "Which, you might recall, I did promise you, but admittedly, I've been terrible as of late, so I won't be surprised if you've forgotten."
Katara laughed. "I haven't forgotten, but I know better than to try to keep you away from a fight," she replied. "Besides, this is an earthbending thing, right? And obviously, we have no earthbenders in our group to help you practice."
She balled her hand into a ready fist. "My thoughts exactly," she confirmed. "I know I'm a master at fire and water and an absolute novice at air, but where do I stand with earth? I've never been able to measure myself against anybody. But this will be a whole tournament of earthbenders—that's a damn fine way to rank my progress quickly!"
Katara grinned, but she noticed something at the poster's bottom, and she squinted at the small characters. "This says that the tournament's this evening, alright, but it seems that the sign-up ends at noon, and…" She peered up at the sun. "It's almost noon, if it isn't already…"
Korra looked upwards so fast her neck nearly cracked. "Oh, spirits, is it? Crap, I can't miss this! It's the perfect chance…" She bolted off across the square, and then, with just as dizzying a turn of speed, she was racing back. "Double crap! I don't know where that address is!"
But Sokka was ready to save the day: he climbed on top of a bench, waved his hands to attract attention, and bellowed, "Hello, good people of Gaoling! Any of you know where to sign up for Earth Rumble Four? Any of you? Eh?"
All the passersby in hearing distance paused to stare at this noisy newcomer, and wordlessly, they all pointed in the same direction. Sokka dramatically pointed, too, shouting, "With haste, Korra, with haste!"
"I'm hastening, I'm hastening!" she replied, sprinting across the square once more, diving down a side street, and skidding to a halt in front of a temporary stall with a banner clearly labeling it as her correct destination. "Hey there, hey, I wanna sign up for the tournament!"
The squat, balding man behind the counter looked her up and down and wrinkled his nose. "It's an earthbending tournament, Water girl," he grunted rather rudely.
By now, the others had caught up with the Avatar, who leaned her knuckles on the counter and fixed the unfortunate man with one of her best glares. "Well, then it's a damn good thing I am an earthbender, isn't it?"
He paled, his eyes quickly darting to her friends and back, and he grinned a wide and nervous grin. "Oh! You'll…forgive my mistake. You don't…look like an earthbender. I'm terribly sorry." He coughed and pulled out a curling parchment sheet and ink brush. "You're just in time to join, so, er, what's your name?"
"Korra," she replied, but he was shaking his head.
"No, no, not your real name," he corrected her. "What's your rumble name?"
She hesitated and glanced at the others, who all shrugged unhelpfully. "Er, my rumble name?"
He paused as well, peering up at her, and he wisely decided to do so in as polite a way as possible. "Oh, er, you must be new to the circuit entirely, then. All the fighters have 'rumble names', which give clues about their fighting styles, personalities, and suchlike. You don't enter as yourself; you enter as a character. It's not just earthbending—it's earthbending entertainment!" he concluded with a hearty wink and a thumb's-up sign.
Korra absorbed this strange requirement and then looked down at herself. "Er, okay. Um…how about the Blue…" She faltered, trying to think of something that sounded good following blue, and ventured, "Blue Bandit?"
"Sorry," he said, "there's already a bandit in the tournament, and as the defending champ, she's not gonna like it much if you go messing with her rumble name. Take another stab at it."
"Uh…" Korra cast around again. "Blue…Spirit?"
Sokka cut in this time. "That sounds like it should be someone else's name, someone who has more intrigue and maybe a mask," he decided critically. "You don't need to be the 'Blue Something', either, Korra! C'mon, there has to be some other way to incorporate water. Water and earth, water and earth…" He hummed to himself thoughtfully. "Ocean, sea, river…er, rocks, stones, er, er…the Mudbender! No, that's stupid and kinda messy…er…River Rocks? Whitewater? Oo! Oo! How about Rocky Rapids? Eh? It's got a nice ring to it, and it makes you sound dangerous, which you totally are anyway!"
The balding man actually reached out and shook the warrior's hand, pumping his arm enthusiastically. "That is a great rumble name!" he said. "Who are you, my good sir?"
The boy grinned cockily. "Sokka," he declared, and he jerked his free thumb at Korra. "Rocky Rapids' trainer, manager, and marketing savant. Nice to meetcha."
The Avatar's expression stagnated. "…You're my what?" she wondered in deadpan tones.
He turned his grin on her. "I'm your everything, Korra; one day you'll realize that. But in the meantime, just call me coach! Now, drop and give me twenty! And twenty of those one-armed push-ups you're so fond of, too, not those wimpy regular ones! Which means, er, that I guess I expect forty! Drop and give me forty!"
Korra's stagnant expression stagnated further. "No."
Sokka knew better than to push that, and he replied, "I like your spirit—stubborn as a rock as always, Rocky Rapids!"
The balding man held out his hand again, but this time, he did not wish to shake. "If you're the entrant's trainer, manager, and marketing what-have-you, then you'll be the one paying the fee. It's ten silver pieces to join; those coins are put in the pot with the rest, which your fighter then of course has a chance of winning back by virtue of winning the tournament."
The Water Tribe warrior thinned upon hearing the quoted amount, and the good humor drained utterly from his eyes. "Er, ten silver pieces…? That's awfully steep, isn't it?"
Korra folded her arms imperiously on her chest. "What is it, coach?" she asked, innocent as a snake. "Don't think I can win, is that it?"
His lips stretched anew in a smile, but this one was rather glassier than its predecessor. "I didn't say that," he protested, speaking through his teeth, "but even so…ten silver pieces…it's quite a sum…"
To the side, Katara rolled her eyes and dug the appropriate amount out of her own money pouch, dropping the tinkling coins onto the counter's wooden surface. "Oh, geez, here, for the spirits' sakes," she grumbled. "If we stand here discussing it any longer, the tournament will be over."
The balding man slid the coins off the counter with such speed that the gesture almost seemed to be executed with sleight-of-hand, and he beamed at the friends. "Thank you for your entry into Earth Rumble Four, the kingdom's foremost earthbending tournament!" He stamped a small square of parchment with the event's official seal and pushed it across the counter. "This is your pass, Rocky Rapids. It'll allow you into the arena, but if the rest of you wish to attend, you will have to buy your own tickets."
They exchanged looks, and Sokka ventured, "Er, and how much do those cost?"
"Five copper pieces each."
He all but melted with relief. "Oh, thank the spirits, that's super cheap," he sighed, putting a dramatic hand to his forehead, and he waved the other one at his sister. "C'mon, Katara, fifteen copper pieces. Cough it up."
Before she could protest this new trend, Aang stunned them all by supplying the funds from his own wallet. He returned their incredulous stares with his own one of polite confusion. "I know I'm a pacifist, but that doesn't mean I can't watch a well-ordered and fairly run fighting tournament," he explained at length when their stares didn't waver. "Besides, Korra is an impressive warrior. It's very interesting to watch her fight."
The Avatar slung her arm around his shoulders, startling him. "You heard the monk!" she declared with a grin and her other fist raised in the air. "I'm awesome, and this is gonna be awesome! Let's hear it for Earth Rumble Four! Wooo!"
With enthusiasm ranging from mild (Aang) to wildly exuberant (Sokka), her friends joined in, punching their own fists in the air.