Iqallijuq's cheer was put into sharp relief when they entered the dormitory. The large rooms, built to accommodate the many women who would come here to socialize or teach, were nearly empty. One woman sat a table in the cafeteria, wringing a piece of cloth in her hands. Her eyes were vacant and her face was pale.
She had lost someone in the attack.
"Where has everyone gone Iqallijuq?" Katara questioned. Iqallijuq's smile faded and she looked down at the floor.
"To assist with the burials." She replied. Then, shaking herself, turned back to Katara smiling. "Would you like something to eat?"
"I should go help." Katara said and started to turn, but Iqallijuq held out a hand, making her pause.
"You and the Prince were the ones to heal those who could be healed. We will bury our dead." She said.
"They're my dead too." Katara replied softly. Iqallijuq wavered and lowered her hand with a sigh.
"You need to eat and sleep. There will be more to do tomorrow." She said finally. Katara acquiesced and followed after her guide to a table. While Iqallijuq continued into the kitchen, Katara sat silently and glance over at the other woman, sitting at the next table over but further down. The woman's eyes had not shifted and her fingers still worried at the piece of fabric; Katara could tell that it was singed.
Idly touching her necklace, Katara turned to look through the pass-through and into the kitchen. Iqallijuq was chopping something and the loops of her hair swung with her movements. Katara's hand fell to the tabletop.
The wound of her mother's death was a scar now. Iroh had once told them that the death of a loved one was a boulder on their spirits, but time would erode that down to a pebble they could carry in their pockets. Kya's death was a worn stone in Katara's palm, and she wondered about grief and pain.
Perhaps she wanted Chang's death to hurt more because then it would mean as much as her mother's death. Except Katara had carried that weight for so long, and now she could handle the burden more easily. This woman who had so clearly lost someone, was being pressed down by the weight of her grief, and Katara could not find the words to help.
There had been a night, when Katara and Aang had gone to the Northern Air Temple, and they talked about death. Aang admitted that he could not comprehend the death of his people. Seeing Gyatso gone was personal, and it hurt him to his core. But the sheer number of people dead, it was something that Aang could not carry. There was still, the survivor's guilt - of both genocide and war - that pushed him to find the rumored Air Benders and to rebuild his culture.
Katara too had to admit that the culling of her people caused more of a shared psychological burden than a personal one. It wasn't till her mother had been killed, and become the face of the forty years of purging, that she began to feel it.
Both recognized the honed edge of one person's death.
Standing from her seat, Katara walked quietly over to the other woman. She sat down next to her and was silent for a moment.
"Who did you lose?" Katara asked softly.
"My nephew." The woman replied.
"Would you like to talk about him?" Katara pressed. The woman turned, her wide eyes slowly dripping tears.
"Why didn't you save him?" She asked. When Katara did not reply, she turned back again, her unblinking eyes still filling with tears.
Before she could think of a proper response, Iqallijuq came sweeping in, brushing Katara up from the table. In a whirl of gestures and a clicking tongue, Katara found herself deposited back in her original seat with a plate of food in front of her. For all of her youth, Iqallijuq moved more like an an assertive grandmother.
"You must eat and sleep. You can help tomorrow." Iqallijuq repeated and Katara dutifully began to eat her supper.
If they had stayed near the bonfire, would they have been able to stop the Spirit before it had killed anyone? Or was it lucky they were there at all, having decided to use Appa to arrive sooner than the airship? Katara blanched when she thought about the airship, how her father was about to arrive in the aftermath of another attack.
She wondered if this would be easier for her if she had stayed back with the others; just numbers of the dead and no individual grief to impale her.
After she ate, Iqallijuq brought her to the second floor, where all of the sleeping quarters were. Each room held two bunkbeds, and between each room was a small toilet. Katara was given an empty room, as each of the beds was neatly made and there were no personal effects to be found. Iqallijuq bade her a good sleep and left, shutting the door firmly behind her. Walking over to the bed, Katara sat down on the bottom bunk and looked over at the external wall. The dormitory had been built from ice and wood, the exposed timber frame coated in thick black pitch, and each window was simply a thinned square within the ice wall.
It had been built by Waterbenders. The lack of seams and the even surface of the ice gave it away and Katara felt guilty. She had not been here to rebuild, nor was she quick enough to save people from the attack.
Sunlight pooled in the ice, glowing like honey and seeming just as thick. It filled the room instead of just illuminating it, and Katara felt like she was going to drown in it. If the sun could not set, this day would not end.
Katara rose from her bed and went to the subtle window. She put her hand to it, trying to feel the viscous sunlight. Instead, it was just frozen, and Katara breathed into it, pushing energy down her arm to collect at her palm. The window melted. Pushing forward with her right hand, Katara widened the hole in the wall, while sweeping her left foot back, she pulled up on the snow below. Before it reached a good height, Katara jumped out of the hole and had the snow catch her, before pushing herself forward in the direction of the oasis.
She found the graveyard easily enough, feeling the mass of people gathered away from the village where the tundra began to thaw. Her people, and the other villages along the coastline, sank their dead. The ocean was where life began, and the dead had to be returned there before they could be reborn. But far from the ocean, and with ground that could be dug into, the people of Yupik buried their dead. The bodies would melt away and they would return to the underground springs, eventually making their way back to the ocean.
Because of the severity of the issue, despite the number, the graves were all being dug by hand. The steam powered shovels, used to clear snow and ice for a foundation, sat silently back in the village. These were people, and they could not be treated with such callousness.
A knot of women were sewing up the canvas bags that held the dead. Katara went to them, took up a long bone needle, and set to work.
Some unknown sense alerted her not five minutes later, and she looked up to see Aang and Sokka talking with the gravediggers. Aang, very carefully, used his water- and earthbending to dig out the rest of the graves easily. Then all of the men came over to the row of bodies.
The three of them did not speak, only watched as the elders spoke amongst themselves. A man walked into the center of the group, appearing out of nowhere. His breasts were bound and his chest was painted with symbols. He wore a large seal lion mask, pulled down over his head and resting on his shoulders.
He was a angakkuq, the spiritual leader of a village; Katara had never seen one before in her life and she gasped when she realized what the man was. He wore the mask of the first angakkuq to meet with Sedna, to plead with her and soothe her so that she would release the marine life for them to hunt. He had come to lead the dead back to her, so that they could be reborn in their namesake.
The ceremony was an old one, and Katara could feel herself responding in a primeval way. The shaman whistled and it was as sharp as a winter wind. His tune echoed in the open air, called back by the lingering dead. The others slowly joined, some wavering, but all coming together to whistle in a clear, sharp singularity.
A wind picked up around them and the snow swirled in small cyclones. Hazy clouds of snow and ice crystals looked like ghosts, and they bloomed from the sewn bags. The people continued to whistle and the shaman began to call out.
"Sedna, bring home your children! Have them be reborn in their namesakes! May they not thirst as they wait for that day!" The shaman's voice rose and fell in line with the song and the cloud picked up.
The sunlight, low at midnight but still shining red and gold, was caught in the fractals. The cloud glowed like an ember from the forge and the whistling gave it a song. The wind whipped and the cloud grew wings, a long tail unfurling like flames.
"How…" Sokka gasped and Katara stopped whistling, letting her jaw drop.
Part of the cloud broke off and flew, propelling itself on wings of ice and ember, straight at Katara. She held her arms open the burning cloud hit her chest, passing through her like a cold breath. Katara tried to clutch it, but her arms were only coated in a light dusting of snow. Falling to her knees, Katara felt tears well and abruptly drop from her eyes. From the edge of her vision, Katara saw someone approach. She looked up and saw the massive head of the shaman's mask. The man crouched down and pulled back on the head of the mask, revealing his smaller, human head underneath. For a moment, Natan's eyes were the pure black of a seal lion, round and protruding. He blinked, and they slowly faded back into normal.
"You brought a foreign spirit home." He remarked. Katara let out a shaky laugh and bent her head down. Natan put a hand on the back of her head and she sniffled.
"May your ancestors bring you to safety." He said and then stood. As he walked away, Katara was lifted by a strong pair of hands. She looked up and saw Sokka's face smiling softly back at her.
"We need to get to work." He said and she nodded.
Burial was easy. People carried stretchers and others gently lifted the bodies onto them. When the bodies were brought to the the graves, they were lifted again and set softly down in the earth. Despite the more temperate nature due to being so close to the Oasis, the graves were still shallow. Aang used his bending again, mixing the dug up earth and a pile of construction rubble to make large mounds over each grave.
While they were working, Sokka took Katara aside.
"What is going on with you?" He demanded. Katara frowned and stepped away from him.
"What are you talking about?" She asked.
"I thought being in the North Pole gave you a break from Chang's death, but as soon as Rin arrived, you've been getting more and more moody. You're being evasive, you're disappearing randomly, and you keep crying at the drop of a hat." Sokka explained.
"People died today Sokka." Katara snapped and crossed her arms over her chest.
"And people died during the war. You still never lost it like this and now there was that…" Sokka broke off as he glanced back at the burial. He turned back and looked stern. "Why was there a phoenix?"
"A what?" Katara stepped back from him and shook her head. "You're not making any sense Sokka."
"You are carrying something inside of you. It's not healthy." He said.
"I'm not carrying anything Sokka."
"You are. I can tell."
"How? This is the longest we've spent together in years." Katara shouted.
"And who's fault is that?" Sokka shouted back. Katara gasped, throwing her arms down in angry shock.
"How is that my fault? You were either in Kyoshi or, apparently, running around the palace with Zuko."
"I tried to see you multiple times Katara. And you seemed to make time for Toph, since you two took a whole vacation to the Foggy Swamp."
"I was trying-" Katara stopped and turned away from Sokka, hugging herself tightly.
"Trying to what? Make yourself important by starting an international incident?" Sokka retorted. Katara squeezed her eyes shut, and tightened her grip on her arms.
"Aang wanted-" She started but Sokka interrupted her.
"Who cares what Aang wanted?" He said. Katara whirled on him, furious.
"I did! For five years I cared exclusively about what Aang wanted! And no one came to me to see what I wanted. No, instead I got letters from all of my friends talking about festivals and trips I was never invited on."
"You were with-" Sokka countered but Katara jammed a finger into his face.
"Don't you dare. You can't tell me that I chose Aang over you and then act like you never used that as an excuse not to invite me anywhere." She said.
"If you were so unhappy, why didn't you say anything?" Sokka demanded.
"Because I didn't want to be let down again!" Katara yelled. Sokka stared at her, blinking rapidly.
"What?" He asked. Katara covered her face with her hands and groaned. After rubbing her face vigorously, she dropped them and sighed.
"When Dad, when you brought Dad back, he just turned around and left again to go fight. When we finally won, I thought, you know, we were safe now. We could be together. We could…" Katara's breath hitched but she pulled the hiccough back down. "You left me to go be with Suki. You know, I understood, just like I did with Dad. We have things to do. We had to…"
"Katara." Sokka said softly and Katara shook her head.
"Then, Haida. It was gone Sokka. I went back, alone, and it was gone. Everyone had left to join other villages. We talk about it like it still exists but when I saw Arnook's map, it's gone. Our home with Mom. Every single thing is gone.
"All I had was Aang, okay? And now, I thought I had-" Katara cut herself off. She was so close to telling Sokka everything. Everything about Zuko and why it was tearing her up.
"I just want to be angry about something because what I'm really angry about, what really hurt me, is something I can't even blame you, or anyone for." She finished. Sokka looked at her and then stepped up to her, opening his arms and pulling her to his chest.
"I just want to go back to when we were all travelling together." She muttered, her voice muffled by Sokka's coat as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I thought you wanted to get away from me." Sokka said. Katara flailed against him till she pressed her chin into his chest, looking up at him.
"What?" She squawked and Sokka smiled.
"After Mom died, even though I'm older, you took care of me. You and Gran-Gran cooked, you sewed my clothes, you were the one to fetch the water, and you cared for me when I was sick. I thought since you didn't have to take care of me anymore, that you wanted space." He replied. He laughed a bit and leaned his face down to rest on her head, looking off to the side.
"But I always assumed you'd just keep taking care of things. That you were randomly going to show up when I needed you. Or when I'd escape Ty Lee's presence and go visit Zuko, that you were just going to be there. You were always just where I needed you." He added and Katara tilted her head back down.
"I missed you." She said.
"I missed you too." Sokka said and kissed her head. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"
"I can't." Katara said.
"You know that's a lie." Sokka said. "You could tell me anything."
"Somethings are difficult to say." She countered and Sokka sighed.
"You're right." He admitted and they parted. Sokka turned and looked back at the graves. Most of the people, including Aang, were gone.
"Why did you come out?" Katara asked as she too stared at the mounds.
"It was the right thing to do." Sokka answered simply.
"Aang was helpful." She stated neutrally.
"Speaking of boyfriends," Sokka started and Katara hit him with the back of her hand. He ignored it and went on. "Where is Amaq?"
"Did he come with you?" She asked.
"He was going to, but the creepy Followers got to him right outside of the dormitory." He replied.
"I have no idea why he likes them so much." Katara said, frowning a little.
"He might be hiding something." Sokka offered and then grinned when she glared at him. "It wouldn't be the first time you had a thing for a pretty guy with a nefarious ulterior motive."
"Okay one, stop speaking ill of the dead. And two, I trust Amaq." Katara said.
"You trusted Jet too."
"I thought you liked Amaq?"
"I don't know anything about him." Sokka paced a bit, kicking up the snow with the toe of his boot. "Arnook says he's a good guy, but he seems a little too perfect."
"He proposed to me." Katara blurted. Sokka snapped his head up, startled.
"When?" He asked.
"On the airship. He told me that the Earth Kingdom is trying hard for a political marriage, and that if I wanted a safety net…" Katara drifted, letting Sokka come to the implied conclusion.
"You don't have to get married Katara." Sokka said.
"No, I don't. But the assumption is if I do get married, it has to be to the correct person." Katara explained. Sokka crouched down, holding the back of his head and stared at the snow.
"I don't understand. No one ever told me that I had to-"
"You're not going to be in charge of anything Sokka." Katara pointed out. Sokka grimaced and relaxed his arms, having his hands trail over the ground.
"No wonder you've been so sensitive." He remarked. Frowning, Katara put her boot on Sokka's arm and pushed him over. As she started to walk away, he scrambled in the snow and propelled himself up to walk with her.
"Are you going to marry him?" Sokka asked as they headed in the direction of the village. Katara took a moment to blow on her fingers, her hot breath leaving a film of condensation on her skin.
"I have other things to think about first." She replied.
"Like your Fire Nation guy?" Sokka asked. Katara stumbled and he laughed as she righted herself.
"More like the angry spirits." She said. Sokka sobered and stayed quiet for a few minutes. Katara listened to the crunch of snow under their boots and the muted sound of the landscape around them. It was the sleeping period, though the sun burned like a drop of blood at the horizon. It was a pinprick, seeping through where the land slit apart the sky. Perhaps that was where the spirits had gained their entrance, through the wound that broken through the skin of the world. The ichor burned far atop their frozen home, and the spirits slipped through.
Katara shook herself, feeling the fatigue war with her inner sense of time. The sun was up, she could not sleep yet. But in her muscles, she felt the late hour.
It made her thoughts and feelings swirl, pulling downward into some philosophical abyss.
Sokka walked with her back to the women's dormitory, marvelling at the hole Katara had made. He laughed at her dramatics and told her, next time, to just use a door like a normal person. Katara buried him in a wave of snow before lifting herself back up to her exposed room. Watching her brother flounder, Katara laughed quietly to herself before freeing him. As she reformed the wall, she snorted at Sokka's rude gestures.
In the isolation of her room, Katara could feel the silence. The women had returned by now, but there was no chatter or laughter. Shuffling over to the bunk, Katara once again sat down on the mattress. It was stuffed with tundra grass and was only there to give support to the blanket pocket that laid on top. The sleeping bag was stuffed with eiderowl down, and would keep her plenty warm through the night. She stood again to remove her outer layers, hanging them on the posts of the bed frame, and crawled into the sleeping bag. The barbs of the feathers pricked her through the layers of blanket and her clothing, but they flattened as she turned about.
As Katara shifted onto her side, staring over at the empty bunk opposite her, she thought about the airship. Her father would be arriving in Yupik for the first time, and she wondered how that would go. Yupik was supposed to be the new capital of the South Pole, and would obviously be where Hakoda would make his permanent residence. Natan would be displaced, and Katara wasn't sure how that would go over. He was an angakkuq, the most respected position in a village. If a shaman had a vision or had gone to speak with the spirits and returned with a message, it could overturn any law or rule a chief had set before.
And Natan, a true shaman, was entertaining the Followers of the Atka.
Though Katara didn't know what that meant, if anything.
Rolling onto her back, Katara stared up at the slats above her. Her eyes burned with the need to sleep, but the oozing orange sunlight seemed to set the room ablaze. Throwing an arm over her eyes, she sighed.
She wondered how long it would take her to get used to the sunlit nights. Tossing her arm back down, Katara opened her eyes and screamed. Aivilayoq's face hovered right above her own and Katara scrambled backward, still prone.
"Did you find my egg yet?" Aivilayoq asked as she sat upright while Katara pushed herself backward.
"What are you doing here?" Katara demanded. Aivilayoq's maw opened slightly and she breathed out a thick, hot fog.
"You came to me wyrmling." She replied.
"But I didn't… I'm not…" Katara stammered as she sat up. "How did I get here?"
"You travelled. The angakkuq has been calling for a long time, and the spirits are trying to heed him I think." Aivilayoq answered. Katara cradled her head in her hands and bent forward to touch the top of her raised knees.
"It's not even the solstice, this shouldn't have been possible." Katara muttered. Aivilayoq snorted but Katara kept her head down.
"The spirits have their own festivals you know. We keep our own calendar." The dragon stated.
"This is too much!" Katara yelled and looked up. Aivilayoq sat on her back haunches, her long sinewy tail wrapped around her base. Her wide silver eyes regarded Katara with bland indifference.
"It cannot be too much if it is all one thing." She clarified.
"How is it all one thing?" Katara demanded.
"My beloved wife has chosen the Fire Lord, just as I have chosen you. The sun and moon always chase each other, yes?"
"You chose Amaq too."
"The moon always needs the service of the ocean."
"I don't understand." Katara said, dejected. Aivilayoq made a clicking noise deep in her throat and then laid down, extending her abdomen.
"Because you are only a wyrmling. Come, you need rest." She said. Katara, abashed and slightly shy, crawled over. She grasped one of Aivilayoq's forelegs and the dragon shrank to wrap around her. Expecting the massive beast to be warm, Katara shivered at the chill of her scales.
Still, the feeling of comfort that surrounded her spirit relaxed Katara, and she felt the fatigue wash over her in a more definitive way. She was buffeted by it, so she clung to Aivilayoq so as not to be swept away.
At least this way, cradled in the the arms of the moon dragon, Katara knew she wouldn't have any more strange dreams.