Disclaimer: I don't own ATLA. I've also said this a lot, but I'm obligated to keep saying it, so… you'll still see this every chapter.

Notes: boom! One or two more chapters to go before a time skip. Hope y'all enjoy.


Chapter 12

"Here," says Rei. "Take this mug of tea. Fresh from the kitchens—they told me you were feeling a little sick. If you need anything, I'll be heading to Princess Azula's tutoring session to escort her tutor out of the palace."

Katara blinks. Rei has both his arms. He's older, maybe nineteen—Lu Ten's age when she met him?—and he looks completely at ease. "Thanks," she says gratefully, staring at him. Then she looks around her. Is she back at the palace?

"Are you alright?" Rei asks after a moment. "You look out of it. I can find some fire roots to put in your tea—they help with headaches."

"I'm okay," she says, taking the mug from his hands. Something feels peculiar to her. "How's Princess Azula?"

That's weird. She never calls anyone around here by their titles. It's as if the words are leaving her lips without permission.

But Rei doesn't seem to mind. "She's doing well," he says, a weird look sneaking onto his face. "She's so talented, you know. She's mastered lightning." He smiles distantly.

"Wow," says Katara, even though she doesn't want to. What's wrong with her? "If only Prince Zuko were here to see that."

Prince Zuko? Princess Azula? What is this?

"He'd just get jealous," says Rei, swinging his arms—his arms! Both his arms!—at his sides. "Hey, Jao Ra wanted to talk to you."

Jao… Ra? "Oh, okay. Do you know when?"

"He said sometime after your meeting with the fire lord."

Meeting… with the fire lord?

"Sure," says Katara, the words coming out mechanically. She doesn't know what's happening. "How's Sokka?"

"Hah! You should see him. He's running around the palace with a bunch of guards chasing him day by day. I guess he got out somehow. He should be in prison, you know."

"That's pretty funny," says Katara. What am I saying? That's not funny at all! Why is Sokka here in the palace? Has he been captured?

When she gets up, she feels taller, a little heavier, more refined. When she steps past Rei and opens the door of the room to roam the rest of the palace, she doesn't find quiet, calm red halls—she's slammed face-first by a frigid cold. Ice? We're… at the South Pole? And then she stares back at the door she just exited from, although it's no longer a door, but instead a tarp—and it's the chief's tarp, meaning her dad is supposed to be here. Right?

Only the tarp pulls away as Fire Lord Ozai steps calmly outside, as if he belongs there.

She wants to scream but she can't. All she does is catch Ozai's eyes and smile. Then she moves past Ozai back through the tarp and finds Rei in a completely different room. Is this Prince Zuko's chambers on his ship? "How do I look?" she asks him, and he tells her she looks great before he hands her a mirror. She barely manages to catch the sight of a young lady with pale skin, golden eyes, and hair parted neatly to the side.

A second later, she's staring at the ceiling of the ship, feeling it rock back and forth with the waves. Small slivers of sunlight peek through the miniscule window in the corner of her room. Heart racing, she jumps from her bunk and scrambles for a reflection, any sight of her own face. When she spots her darker skin under the sunlight, she gasps for air.

I was Fire Nation! she shrieks inwardly. Who was that? Why—why was Rei there? Why was Jao Ra alive? Why were we in the South Pole? And most important, why was Ozai there?

But before she can gather herself, her door bursts open. "Rise and shine," says Maji with a sulking Zuko behind him. "Time to get a move on to the Northern Air Temple."


It isn't until nightfall when Iroh looks toward the mountain thoughtfully. "You know, Prince Zuko," says Iroh, "perhaps we should forgo this temple."

"Don't be ridiculous," says Zuko. He eyes his uncle with distaste. "Just because you can't climb it doesn't mean we have to give up."

Iroh sighs. Behind Zuko, the Maji, Tuzen, and Hua all look apprehensive; they cast each other bizarre looks before Hua says, "Sir, this mountain has been scaled already."

"What?" Zuko whips around. "How can you tell?"

"The rocks are displaced," says Hua. He looks uncomfortable. "Having grown up in a colony so near the Earth Kingdom, I can tell when rocks have recently been moved."

"Well, how recent is it?" demands Zuko. "I can't imagine Zhao would reach this place before me."

"Oh no, sir," says Hua. "These aren't fresh. But they definitely aren't a hundred years old."

Zuko narrows his eyes. "The avatar."

"Or," says Iroh, "the Fire Nation."

"What are you talking about?" asks Katara. "This temple was supposed to be empty. What's the point of scaling it again?" Suddenly, the image of the bones in the secret room at the Western Air Temple appears in her mind. "They're dead. Why bother?"

"The avatar," says Zuko again, but he's more baffled. "Grandfather was searching for the avatar?"

"Oh, yes," says Iroh, smiling. "I would say he sent many forces out several years ago."

"Are we still going up there?" asks Katara.

Zuko scoffs. "Of course we are. Come on. Let's go."

Half an hour later, with Zuko somehow trudging the fastest up the mountain, Katara lags behind with Hua. He wipes a hand at his forehead and stares at the determined form of the young prince so far ahead of them. "Some nerve," says Hua. "Honestly, I'm impressed."

"By what?" Katara asks. The words sound more like a wheeze. She can feel the sweat dripping down the back of her neck rather ungracefully, and all she wants more and more is water to drink. She could care less about bending.

Hua stops for a moment to take in a lungful of air. "That scar," says Hua. "I can't stop looking at it. But he just… ignores it. How does he? I'm kind of jealous."

Katara looks back at Zuko, who is so far ahead of them now that she wonders if he would notice if she stopped. She can barely see the scar from this distance. "No one talks about it to him, I guess."

"No one wants to," says Hua. "What're we supposed to say? I don't even know how he got it."

"His dad," says Katara before she squeaks. "Oh, no. I shouldn't have said that. He'll be so mad."

"The fire lord scarred his own son?" says Hua. "You're joking."

"I mean, maybe, maybe not," says Katara. Her cheeks are burning, she's sure of it. Now that it's out, though, she can't do much but continue. "I heard it from some servants who caught the rumors from higher ups leaving an Ag… Ag…"

"An Agni Kai," says Hua. "Wow." He shoots a pitying glance at the prince. "Poor kid. I thought his dad banished him because he was weak. I didn't know it was so…" Then he looks at her. "And poor you."

She frowns. "Why me?"

"Well," says Hua, "you are a prisoner, technically."

She looks at her wrists. There aren't any chains.

"But I suppose we've been a little lenient," Hua continues. "I wonder if the capital knows we have you. Did you tell people you were leaving? All I know is that we got on the prince's ship and the next day, you were touring the deck."

Katara shrugs. "I… yeah, I told one of my friends. But otherwise, I just left. I guess people thought I was just in a hurry to deliver something to Azula or someone."

Hua doesn't say anything for a little while as they continue walking—Katara only stares at the path in front of her, making sure she doesn't trip or do anything foolish as Zuko continues up the mountain path with surprising ferocity. When Katara does look at Hua, she finds him watching her with confusion.

"What?" she asks him.

"Who did you tell?" says Hua.

"Um…" She bites her lip. "My friend Rei."

Hua winces. Something begins to gnaw at Katara from the inside—she can't quite tell what it is. "What?" she repeats.

"You are a prisoner," says Hua again. He sighs. "Never mind."

Katara turns her eyes away from the guard and stares again in front of her. She is a prisoner. And? What did that mean? Nothing on this ship, apparently. None of them cared whether or not she was in chains—probably because she served them well. But what did that mean in terms of—of—

"Alright," calls Zuko from several yards ahead of them. "We'll break here."

Broken from her thoughts, she watches as Zuko turns to face them higher up from the path. "Come here," he says once they get close enough—he's beckoning at her with one small jolt of his chin. As Hua sets up a small break station with Maji, Tuzen, and Iroh, Zuko leads her to a small alcove in the side of the mountain not too far from where they're camping. It's splintered off from their tiny site by several rocks, which makes Katara a little uncomfortable, but it isn't until she actually steps somewhat into the alcove to see what he wants.

"It's dark," begins Zuko, "so…" Something snaps and starts to warm the side of her face; Katara blinks before she registers that he has a fire in the palm of his hand as a torch. The alcove's lit now. Then she starts. There are markings on the wall.

"What is this?" she asks.

"I don't know," says Zuko. He looks faintly irritated, as though he'd expected her to understand what the markings meant. "I'm assuming it's a language. It's not Old Fire Nation, I can tell you that." Zuko pauses. "And I don't think it's Sun Warrior, either. Although I have no clue what that looks like."

She stares at it a little more intently. Has she seen this sort of writing before? Of course not; she hasn't been at the South Pole for years. "Well, it's not like I'm any help," she says curtly. "I wasn't the best reader when I was snatched from my home by the Fire Nation."

Katara can literally feel his eyes—both gold, one slanted and the other twisted and angry—drill holes into the side of her head. "Tch," says Zuko. The fire in his palm burns more violently as he obviously tries to shove away his annoyance. "Does anything look familiar?"

The writing is filled with many circles and spirals. They hardly look like ancient water tribe writing, whatever she's seen in her father's chieftain tent. Those had consisted of more swirls and dots than anything else. "This definitely isn't the Language of La," says Katara. That's what ancient water tribe lingo was called—the Language of La. She's pretty certain the only people she remembers talk about it was her grandfather before he passed away a year before she was taken. Honestly, that's about the only thing she remembers.

"So what is it?"

"I don't know, Zuko," she says. "Is this all you wanted to show me? It's nice, but can I please sit down?"

Zuko snuffs the flame out. "Fine," he says. She can barely see his scar gnarled and red in the faint light from the entrance of the alcove. "But get my uncle for me."

So she does. When Iroh trails after her a minute later, she finds Zuko with a flame in his palm again, staring up at the writing.

"Look at this," says Zuko when he sees his uncle. Iroh stares up at the writing as Katara walks away—"Thank you, Katara! Why, you're welcome, Zuko!" she grumbles—and she only sighs as Iroh exclaims, "Wo-ow! This is very nice, nephew! Are you trying to become a sage?"

Whatever Hua was talking about earlier with Rei is long gone from her thoughts.


"Get up!"

His new cell is highly accommodating—it has a chamber pot in the corner and plenty of shackles to keep him company. Sometimes he thinks he can hear elephant rats. It would be better than sitting in silence all day.

But the guards that surround him twenty-four-Agni-saken-seven hours a day aren't as accommodating as he would've liked. A lot of the time, they get easily frustrated with him. Sometimes, if he tries to readjust his position so his stumped arm isn't pressing painfully into the metal wall, they whip him to show their disliking for his noise. Sometimes they dunk his head in his bowl of water and hold it there until he's practically inhaling it, all because he coughed. Sometimes they bend fire right in front of his eyes and singe some of his hair off, all for fun. If they feel generous, they let him hold an elephant rat with his good hand—however good it is, anyway.

He honestly doesn't remember how his hand got the way it is now. He knows he lost his right arm in war—some battle far east—but his other hand is blistered and mutilated, too, and sometimes it stings if something gets in one of the blisters.

Whenever he manages to fall asleep, he hears a thirteen year old boy screaming his name—what's his name? Rei?—and it's all he can do to try and save the boy with pale skin and slanted topaz eyes. Sometimes, though, he falls asleep and he has both of his arms and he's sitting with a girl who looks like she walked straight out of the ocean—and then he hates her because he hates water and he hates drowning in it, because isn't that what it's meant for? It's all the guards do to him and he wants nothing more than to not have to depend on water. And then sometimes he falls asleep and he sees another person, a man this time, several years older than him and begging him to leave this hellhole.

Kiwea, thinks Rei to himself. That man's name was Kiwea.

One day, the door opens and the guards do something very peculiar: they only stand there, as straight as rods, as though they might do something wrong and be murdered for it. There is a clack of expensive boots making way down the metal hall; the guards look more and more nervous as the sound grows louder.

"Is this it?" comes a female voice. It's soft and lulling and puts Rei to sleep almost immediately again, but he wants to know who is here to see him. He doesn't see others at all anymore, not since his hand blew up and the man named Kiwea escaped.

"Yes, Princess," says one of the guards.

Princess, thinks Rei. He vaguely remembers a princess. Maybe a prince. Wasn't there a prince who left recently? A month ago? Two months ago? How long has he been there?

There are some more clacks and then a shadow falls over him from the torches. He barely looks up to see pointed, polished boots; they look vaguely familiar.

When he does look up all the way—his neck complains and his eyes sting from the light of the torches—Rei sees a young girl, twelve, maybe, with slanted golden eyes that stare him down with what look like… pity?

She looks like the prince. She left with that boy, Rei remembers, and suddenly, the world is spinning and the air is pounding and his breath is rasping and his hand, oh, his hand hurts.

"Oh," says the princess—he can barely see her through the brightness of his vision and he's screaming. "Oh, can't we do something about this?"

"He does this sometimes," says one of the guards.

"Sometimes? Try every night."

Rei's throat is raw with pain. She did this. She killed Jao Ra. She killed him and where is Rei now? Jao Ra is gone and he's left with this awful place called home—with people who care with him by breaking his blistered fingers and knocking his eyes out of his head with kicks as he sleeps. She killed him, and Agni send him to death if he ever see her again because he hates her, and he's going to kill her for doing this to him.

"I heard you're very talented," says the princess in the meanwhile. She approaches his shackles as he stares at her with wide, rabid, panting eyes. "I hear you've tried to break out of the tower."

He bares his teeth at her. How he'd love to break her face to get the prince and that girl, Ka-ta-ra, out of his head.

"Your poor hand," continues the young princess. "That must hurt." She raises her golden eyes to his and her lips quirk ever so slightly. She's young but mirthless, this one. "I bet you'd do anything to get rid of the pain."

Yes, Rei probably would.

"In fact," she continues, her voice high and tart but still soothing in his metal prison, "I would bet you'd do anything to get rid of all your pain. Wouldn't you?" She smiles wider this time. Her teeth are a pearly white. The princess is the picture of royal perfection.

Rei only continues to stare at her as his heart rate begins to calm.

"You can avenge yourself," says the princess. "You can avenge your fallen comrades."

Avenge Jao Ra.

"I need your help," says the princess. Something in her voice is pleading. Something in her voice is loving. Something in her voice caresses the terror in his throat to his stomach and all the way to the back of his spirit. "Will you help me, Rei?"

A split second stretches from her last word—his name—to the hoarse note that leaves his lips, seeming to last all eternity: "Yes."


I'm SORRY IT'S SO SHORT. But I promise the next one will be longer. And then time skip! Yes yes yes.

Also, how about that Korra finale? I won't get into a discussion about it because I know some people are super tense about it so we'll just… say that we're sad it's over :( thanks for the great ride, everyone! I look forward to finishing this fic with you! Too bad the avatar universe has experienced its last adventure for a little while…

Please review! Thanks for reading, as always!