She is racing back to the city. More than ever before, Katara misses Appa. After sailing down the coast on a commandeered vessel, she and her guards have secured a pack of mongoose lizards. Their writhing, leaping, heaving movements nauseate her, but it doesn't matter.
She's too late.
She knows before she gets there that she is too late.
Moving toward the capital from the coast, they struggle through roads clogged with refugees pulling carts and hauling bundles.
They hear stories that all contradict each other. The Avatar appeared to destroy the Fire Lord. There was a fire. There was an explosion. The entire palace has sunk into the earth.
The Fire Lord was killed in an explosion while defending the city. His body was burnt. It disappeared. There was a dagger lodged in his throat. The Fire Lord lives and has gone mad.
The Fire Nation has been colonized by the Earth Kingdom. The Lady Katara has seized the throne in the name of the Water Tribe.
They listen to the stories as they press onward, closer, and then they begin to smell the smoke.
There is a haze in the air. The people coming toward them have all wrapped their faces in cloth. Katara and her group start to choke on the dust as they get closer. They tear their own clothes to tie masks around their noses and mouths.
Katara feels her eyes stinging. She is weeping long before they approach what had been the outskirts of the palace.
Now it is rubble and embers and smoke and dust.