A/N: I like this chapter a lot, despite how emotional it is. That's all. :D Enjoy!
"Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." - Anthem, Leonard Cohen
Chapter 26 - Invincible
Blue eyes smile up at me, but there's nothing happy about it. It's a sad, empty sort of gesture. All around me I see flames, hissing and spitting at me, but I don't take my eyes off his bruised and bloody face—my calm in a storm of raging fire.
His hand loosens in my grip.
"Don't!" I shout, over the roar of the fire. "I've got you!"
"Let me go, Katara," he says.
"I won't let you fall!"
"You have to," he says, and my sweaty hand slips out of his grasp. I scream as Sokka falls into the pit of fire, the flames swallowing him up. All I hear is him shouting my name, over and over.
You did this, someone says to me, and all I can think about is knowing they're right and knowing I can't stop it. I can't see through the fire. I can't hear over the screaming. Is it my voice or is it Sokka's? I can't tell and I wish they would stop.
Suddenly there's another voice, a new voice, one that's strong and sharp, drowning out the screams.
"Katara," it says. "Katara, can you hear me?"
My head is spinning. I try to open my eyes but it's too bright. Too many colors and shapes. My ears throb—it sounds like bombs are going off, explosion after explosion, each one sending me into a painful jolt. Is the world blowing up?
"You stay with me," the voice says again, strong, clear, even against the explosive sounds ringing in my ears.
"Is…that an order?" I manage to slur. Soft darkness threatens to engulf me. I try to open my eyes again, but the world quakes, and I'm jolted so painfully I black out completely. The last thing I remember is a snarling, terrifying voice and a brightness that burns behind my eyes. I think it must be a dream, but I don't remember dreams hurting so badly.
Without warning, my eyes snap open in alarm, burning like I've rubbed them with sand. Everything around me is dark, cold and clammy. The only sound a light drumming off in the distance, the air tainted with the rusty smell of blood and sweat. A bruised, bloody face looms over me and for a second I feel nothing but relief and comfort. But then I blink and those blue eyes are now a brilliant shade of gold, as bright as the sun against a midnight sky.
This is real, I think. Sokka is gone and this is real.
And then very suddenly, everything comes back to me in such a devastating rush that I have to push the face away and sit up to heave. Since my stomach is empty, it's nothing but bile. It burns the back of my throat. I wipe my mouth with the back of my sleeve and scoot over, away from the mess on the stony ground. Everything hurts and every movement shakes with strain and pain.
I hang my throbbing head between my knees, breathing deeply, like my dad always says to do whenever I feel sick and dizzy. Unwanted tears leak from my eyes and I start to shake. I can feel those gold eyes watching me and even though a thousand questions are brimming just below the surface—Why are we here? What happened? How did I get here?—all I can do is sit here, pressing my palms to my eyes to keep the tears from spilling.
Breathe, Katara, I tell myself, still shaking. Breathe. He's gone, but you are alive.
"You're safe," says a familiar, raspy voice, breaking the silence. Somehow, I believe him. It's a bizarre emotion. No one is safe in these Games. "You were dreaming."
"I wish I was." I swallow hard and pull my knees to my chest. "Everything burns—in my dreams and in reality. I just want it to end."
A light touch on my arm makes me flinch and look up. The prince, who should never have to kneel for any reason, is kneeling in front of me. The image is so startling that my mind completely blanks and all I can do is stare at him. He takes my shaking hands in his own. They're warm and a little rough, calloused like my brother's. Somehow I don't expect the prince to have a worker's hands. I don't pull away and after a moment, my hands stop shaking.
"You're covered in blood," says Zuko. He sounds tired. He looks tired and ghastly pale.
"It's not mine," I say softly, a crack in my voice. "Jet. Sokka. I don't know."
"I didn't know how badly you were hurt," Zuko goes on. "You hit your head. Again. I tried wrapping it with fabric but you should wash off all the blood."
It will never come off, I think. My hands are scarred forever with blood.
"I have no water," I say instead.
Zuko reaches into the back of his pants and pulls out a damp cloth. When I do nothing more than stare at it blindly, he starts rubbing the fabric over my hands, around my fingers, washing off the dried blood. I sit still and tense, so still that I start to tremble all over.
"Relax," he says gently, and I do. Next he rolls up my sleeves and washes off my wrists and forearms; I watch him silently, not really sure what to do, and then I realize why it feels so disconcerting: I'm not used to someone taking care of me. Not like this, and not in this way since I was a little girl. My mind blanks again.
Zuko rubs the cloth against my palms, scrubbing a little harder. When he stops, he reaches out to touch my hair gently with a hand.
"It's in your hair, too," he says. "And on your clothes."
"I don't care," I whisper fervently, wishing he would stop. "I don't care."
When the prince finishes, I'm so relieved I forget to say thank you—or anything, for the matter. Not that he expects me to. He sets the red-stained cloth on the ground next to me and stands up. He pauses near a dying fire and punches a hand forward, so the flames dance gold against my vision. I don't realize how cold I am until I take notice of how warm the fire feels. My teeth chatter. I can barely feel my fingers. My clothes are damp from the storm, dried blood coating the fabric. I have no bedroll and no blankets. No food, no water, and no brother.
I watch the fire for what feels like a long time, not really seeing it. Zuko sits near the mouth of the cave, whether he's taking watch or giving me space, I don't really know. He asks me a few questions but I don't know what he's really asking. Everything he says seems to go in one ear and out the other.
I can't take my eyes off the flames. The way they move, shifting and ever changing, reminds me of water, and holds me in a sort of comforting trance. My head is still pounding and the back of my throat and eyes ache, but I can't cry. No tears will come. It's like I've used them all up and have to wait for replenishment. I'm not even sure if this is sadness I'm feeling. All I feel is empty. Maybe that's why I can't cry. I'm too empty. No tears are left.
"I'm sorry." Zuko's raspy voice filters down the cave to my ears, finally breaking through to me. "About your brother."
"No," I say, and my voice breaks, "you're not. You'd have no reason to be."
He's silent for a moment, and then he says, quietly and almost hesitantly, "Why did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Volunteer," Zuko clarifies. "You gave up your life, your home, when you volunteered."
"I gave it up for Sokka," I say, closing my eyes tightly. "I couldn't let him go through this by himself. If he had to die, I didn't want him to be alone. No one should die alone."
"You gave it all up for him, and he gave up his life for you…" Zuko trails off, like he's puzzled by his own words. "Every decision he made in these Games was because of you."
"Wouldn't you do the same?" The words tumble out before I think them through. Zuko says nothing, and a heavy, thick silence hangs between us. For some reason it leaves me feeling very cold. Of course he wouldn't do the same. Of course he doesn't understand. "She's still your little sister," I say quietly.
"If I thought along those lines, I'd be dead, just like your brother."
I stiffen, biting down anger and hurt. "Well, that's one less tribute for you to worry about."
"It's one less for you to worry about, too."
"Don't!" My voice rings through the cave. "Don't say that! Don't you dare say that to me!"
"You're right," Zuko says dryly, "I'm sure it would have been better for the two of you to make it to the very end and then you could watch him kill himself."
I cringe and look up at the prince, but he's nothing more than a dark silhouette against the golden light of the fire. "He…we would have found another way," I say.
"There can only be one victor," he says, but I don't hear the prince's voice—I hear Sokka's. Suddenly I'm back in the woods, holding my dying brother, listening to him breath his last words:
There can only be one victor.
Pakku has drilled this into my head since day one, and so has everyone else. One victor. One survivor. Didn't I know this all along? Didn't I know that if I was to survive, Sokka would have to die? Yes, but knowing doesn't make it any easier. Part of me was hoping it would. But it hasn't. It still hurts. It hurts so much I can barely stand it.
I blink and see Zuko's face. His sudden appearance makes me jump in alarm. He's kneeling down in front of me again, the gold light catching the edge of his scar; I hadn't even heard him move. His pale face is smeared with blood and cuts, the face no longer belonging to the prince of the Capital.
"You've got to stop doing that," I say, but he holds out a hand silently, something thin dangling between his fingers. The light catches on a round, familiar blue stone, and recognition dawns on me.
"Where did you get this?" I ask slowly, and hesitantly pull it from his grasp; the ribbon slides through his fingers like running water. I run my thumb over the pendant, mesmerized and in awe. Am I still asleep? This can't be real.
"It came by parachute," Zuko tells me. "I thought it was for me, so I opened it. But once I saw what it was, I knew it must be for you."
I fumble with the clasp. My fingers are still stained lightly with blood, the color of burnt crimson. They're sore and stiff, refusing to function correctly. I nearly drop the necklace in my attempts.
"Here," Zuko says, and takes the necklace. He slides a hand under my unruly hair, bundling it into a fist; it makes a crunching sound from the blood dried up in the curls. I reach up and lift it off my aching shoulders. Zuko places the necklace around my throat and clasps the back. His fingers are warm against my neck. I drop my hair and touch the pendant.
"This was my mother's," I say wistfully. "My mother's betrothal necklace that I've worn since I can remember. It's one of the few things I have from her. I left it with my dad. He must have had it sent in for me because…"
I can't finish the sentence, and it hangs between us: Because of Sokka. Because it's my dad's way of supporting me, of trying to comfort me in only way he can. He must have already had it sent to the Capital days or weeks ago. Somehow, Pakku must have known this was the right time to send it in.
The tears finally come. I no longer care about looking weak in front of the Capital's prince or wondering if the Watchers are recording this. I don't care who is watching. Everything hurts too much to care.
I crumple forward, expecting to hit the stone ground, but instead strong hands catch me. They grip my forearms and slowly lower me forward until my face brushes against something warm. I can feel a steady rise and fall against my cheek. That sound and feel alone steadies and calms me. Zuko drops his arms—not putting them around me in the way my dad or brother might do—but he doesn't move from his position or say anything. My crying doesn't stop, but it slows, and I concentrate on Zuko's breathing as I lean against his chest. He's stiff under me, like he might be uncomfortable at our close proximity, but he doesn't push me away.
Sometimes that's enough.
The warm and salty smell of something roasting wakes me. I sit up, a little disoriented, to find Zuko crouched by the fire, spinning what looks like two staked fish on a stick over the golden flames. He gives the fire life, shuffling stones around the flames so it doesn't spread. He's very careful in his movements, sliding each stone to the precise angle, never letting the flames get out of control. My mouth waters at the scent of the fish. I'm so hungry it hurts. My eyes feel puffy when I rub them, my hair a knotted mess of tangles. June should have packed me more bands to hold it back.
A thin blanket fell off me when I sat up, and I don't notice it until now, when I look at my lap to examine the contents in my satchel. I drape the blanket around my shoulders and move toward the prince. We don't speak about last night, and when he's done with the fish, he gives me one without a word. I eat quietly, my mind whirling in visions of color. All I can see is Sokka dying in my arms. Aang's body flying through the air, crackling with lightning. Blood pouring from Jet's throat. Mai's startled eyes just before Azula killed her. So much blood and death, dancing behind my vision, whether my eyes are open or closed. I wonder if someday, any day, whether it's tomorrow or in fifty years if I survive, if the visions will ever go away.
"Here," Zuko says, once we finish with breakfast—or is it lunch or dinner? What day is it?—and tosses me a canteen. "I filled this up for you to use. Your bow got lost in the fire."
I give the canteen a little shake, relief swelling in me when I hear the slush of water. "Where did you get this?" I ask.
"It was sent in."
"Your mentor or mine?"
Zuko raises a brow. "Does it matter?"
"Well, I'd like to say thank you," I say with a shrug. "Where did you find the water?"
"There's a stream nearby," says Zuko, standing up. "I found it on accident. I'm going to take watch."
I look back at the canteen and peer at my distorted reflection. I barely recognize the girl that stares back at me. Wild brown hair, crunchy with blood. Shallow, cold face, drained of color. Sad, glazed blue eyes. A red stained cloth plastered around my head. I look away, hating the monstrous image too much to stare any longer. The canteen is a shiny, sleek metal. It looks brand new and top quality. It has to be from one of Zuko's sponsors; I doubt any of mine can afford this. Even if I ask him directly, though, I know he won't answer me.
"I got him out," Zuko says suddenly. When I look up at him, he's turned away from me, facing the opening of the cave. The rain has stopped; a cloudless sky just beyond the opening. "Your brother," the prince clarifies. "I dragged him out of the fire."
And me, I think, wondering how that was even possible, but it doesn't matter because Sokka gets to go home. He can have a proper burial with my dad and all of Province 9 like he deserves. A warrior's burial. His body didn't burn to ashes. He's home.
"Why?" I ask in a small voice. "Why did you do it?"
Zuko unsheathes his swords. He doesn't turn around, but peers over his shoulder slightly. "Someone once said that everyone should be buried by the people who love you."
My lip trembles, and for a horrifying moment, I'm afraid I'm going to cry again, but to my surprise, a broken sort of smile breaks apart my lips. I want to say something, anything, but suddenly there's a huge lump in my throat and nothing comes out. At my silence, Zuko shifts, peering over his shoulder to look at me. Thank you, I should say, but I'm afraid I'll cry if I start talking. My lips form the words instead. The prince doesn't miss them. He tips his head once in acknowledgement, a look of understanding in his eyes—but how can he understand?—and then he moves to the mouth of the cave.
I stare at his back for a long time, wanting to say something more, but not knowing what. I think of him carrying Sokka and me away. I think of the fish, of the shelter of the cave. I think of him pulling me up from the Badgermoles. I think of how he gave me back Yue's necklace, even though I still have his crown. I think of how he could have killed us when we suffered from the spider-snake venom. I think of how he carried On Ji, and how we use Waterbending and Firebending together. I think of the canteen, filled with water. I think, suddenly, of all these little things that I've been overlooking.
I think I was wrong. Somewhere, hidden deep under the layers of a cold exterior, the prince of the Capital does have a heart.
Later that night, we huddle around the kindling fire, planning. We go over everything we know—the arena, the animals, strengths and weaknesses—anything that can be helpful. We don't talk about each other. If by some miracle we do manage to kill Azula, I have no idea what will happen next. I'm not sure he does, either. Sokka was always the one to think ahead. I prefer to wait until the problem is right in my face before dealing with it.
"Besides us, there are only four others left," I say, "Suki wo—"
"The little girl is dead," Zuko says suddenly, with slight reproach. "From Eight."
I stare at him, waiting for him to correct himself, but he stares at me with that open, honest face that tells me that he isn't going to. My heart sinks and I swallow hard, my throat as dry as a desert. Toph is…dead? And then I remember: the crackling of lightning, the ground exploding, seeing her face vanish behind the brightness. I think of her tunnels, her brilliant escape no other tribute has ever achieved—all ruined because she came back for me.
You did this, a voice says to me. I shake my head.
"But," I start, not wanting to believe it, "how do you know?"
"Her flag is down," says Zuko.
"Did you see her?" I persist. "Her body, I mean."
"Katara—"
"Did you see her," I say again, louder.
"She's gone." His voice borders on frustration.
"She could have escaped!"
Zuko stares at me, incredulous. "Escape to where? There is no escape!"
Suddenly I'm aware of the Watchers and the Capital but I'm so angry at him that I almost don't care. "She could have escaped to…to another Province! You didn't see her body—she could have made it. How do you know for sure?"
"Would you listen to yourself?" Zuko snarls at me. "You're not even making sense. Obviously you need more sleep."
"I'll sleep when I'm the victor!" I shout, so loud and terrible that the prince just stares at me. His eyes are wide, like he's looking at a rabid stranger.
"If you keep running right into death traps then that's not going to happen," he says finally. He's tense with anger, but his eyes are no longer flashing. "Azula nearly killed you."
"What do you care?" I ask bitterly. "You know, why bother even bringing me here? Do you have some sick and twisted torture planned out for me?"
I know I sound nasty when I should be grateful for everything he's done but I don't care. I'm too angry and hurt by everything to care. I don't even know who I'm angry at the most. My dad always says we can never get over our pain until we know its face. And I can't put a face on it.
"If I wanted to kill you," he says, "I would have done it already."
"I suppose if we make it to the end you'll have your chance." I say sarcastically, bitterness coloring my voice. "You against me."
"Agni Kai…" Zuko murmurs, looking away, a muscle in his jaw working. Like throwing water onto burning flames, his fire is gone. He looks lost in a tormented memory.
"A what?"
He clears his throat, looking pained and uncomfortable all of the sudden. "Agni Kai," he says again. "A duel between two fighters. It's an old tradition in the Fire Provinces."
"Have you been in one?"
"A couple." His abrupt, sharp tone startles me. The sudden stillness and rigid posture. The way his eyes flash when I spoke. I know I should probably drop the subject, but it's gotten too interesting for that.
"And what if I challenge you to an Agni Kai, Prince Zuko?" I try to sound like I'm teasing, hoping to give warmth to the sudden change in temperature. I'm not sure if it works.
He's silent for a moment, and then he looks up, meeting my eyes with a hard stare. "Then I will fight you," he says, in a subdued, quiet voice. "And you will lose."
I hold his gaze, unflinching. Somehow we're both on our feet now, standing inches apart; I can feel his warm breath on my face as I look up at him. We're dangerously close. I suddenly think of Jet. How I squeezed his throat, tearing my nails right through his skin. How I rammed the arrow straight into his bloody flesh without hesitation. How even now, I don't feel bad and I don't regret it. The only regret I feel is that I hadn't done it earlier.
"You don't know what I'm capable of." My voice is no louder than his, equally as low and lethal. "And even you are not invincible, Your Highness. Your sister is your blood. Whether or not you care for her, you will hesitate. You are not as heartless as you pretend to be."
His eyes are still hard, but he raises a curious brow. "I thought you said I had no heart."
"Everyone has a heart," I say. "But not everyone remembers they do."
"If you let yourself remember, then you're going to lose this game."
I think about that for a moment, mulling over his words. Is that really true? I suppose it is. Sokka protected me every step of the way, thinking more with his heart than his brain, and it got him killed in the end. Or did his heart keep him alive longer in the Games? Doesn't your heart give you the fuel to keep fighting? What's the point in trying to survive, in fighting, without a reason in the first place?
I shake my head. "You wouldn't want to win so badly if your heart wasn't in it."
His face jerks, expression shifting into a look I would have never imagined could cross the prince's face. I can't even describe it. "That's the thing," he says. "If I win, I still lose."
I don't know what he means, and open my mouth to speak, but my words are drowned by a sudden, terrible roar that shakes the cavern walls, sending me to my knees; I crash into the prince. Bits of rock break through the walls, falling on top of me. Instinct shoves me forward and I grab Zuko's shoulders, trying to knock him down and shield him with my body, but he's doing the same thing to me and both of us end up taking the brunt of the rocks.
There's another loud roar, and this time the prince jerks me to my feet. The ground is still shaking; I have to grapple at the wall for balance.
"Go!" Zuko shouts, shoving me away from the mouth of the cave, toward the darkness. I haven't been anywhere but this main cavern. I have no idea what lies in those shadows, but the roar is coming from outside the cave, forcing us to run deeper or face it. "I'll hold it off and catch up to you!"
"What is it?" I ask, and fall to my knees again as the ground gives a violent shake.
Fire bursts into the cave, fire like I've never seen. It's blue and green and violet, the colors twisting beautifully and terribly. I stare it, almost frozen at its beauty, and watch as it surges toward me. Zuko moves his arms in a wide, sweeping gesture, and parts the fire like they're waves of water. He shouts at me again, a sling of instructions and barking orders I don't catch. But I catch a single word, one that sends me running into the darkness without hesitation because whatever lies ahead cannot possibly be as bad as what Zuko is facing.
Dragons.
A/N: Of course there's going to be dragons. How can I not? :D This chapter was emotionally difficult. I knew it would be, because it's sort of the after effects of the storm. Zuko was challenging too, because I wanted to write his reaction to Katara realistic. One thing I just love about them is how they go from fighting, talking about killing each other, to protecting each other. Katara gives Zuko a death threat in The Western Air Temple then reaches up in Appa's saddle to save him from falling to his death. Their relationship is so interesting to me, in canon and in here.
Bonus chapter at 600 reviews. Your choice of a snippet from the final chapter of this OR a snippet of the first chapter of Insurgent, the sequel. :D
Review Responses:
HunterX321: "We didn't really get to see Sokka be smart." - Gah I know! I almost kept him alive simply to have him in the sequel, when his smarts would come in very handy, but his death needed to happen to help develop Katara's character arc. A lot of his strategic moments are off screen, sadly, like in the beginning and when he joins Jet's group. Since we're in Katara's shoes, we don't get to see that. I wanted to write more brilliant!Sokka, but there just wasn't enough time. Not when I have remember my main ship at work. :P Katara had to have one on one develop with Zuko. I only wish there could have been more time to have the three of them together. *sighs* Damn timing. lol
Rochelle: "I have read SO MANY books throughout the years as well as MANY fanfictions and I want to make sure I tell you how great of a writer you are!" - You are so sweet! Thank you! *hugs you* I'm honored to be your first review! Reviews are so meaningful to me; I always look forward to posting just to hear what you guys think.
"But in your story not only are we familiar with these characters because of the show they come from but you let us get to know them in this new context as well. This makes letting them go that much harder." - I agree, and that was my intention. I wanted to bring emotions to this story..that was my goal. And it's hard to care about characters dying unless you get to know them. Katara isn't like Katniss, so it was easier for her to be interested in the other tributes. And we all know how emotional she is, so obviously she's going to care for some of them, even though they might try to kill her. It's one thing I find very frustrating yet equally as admirable in her.
happilyinsane13: "But Katara really can't change anything if she wins, Zuko can." - A few reviewers have said this and I'm curious lol. What does everyone think Zuko can do? Assuming he wants a change, that is. We know (based on the bonus scene) Ozai has said if Zuko wins, he will have his father's respect. We know in the series that when Azula taunts him with his honor and Ozai's love, he turned his back on Katara in the season 2 finale. Uh oh..foreshadowing? Maybe, maybe not. But will Zuko turn on his father if he feels like he's finally earned his respect and love? AND even if he does, then what? Zuko is only one person. Ozai has armies and ships and military and thousands of men at his disposal. Say Zuko decides to kill his father. Does he become Fire Lord? What happens to someone who murders the current Fire Lord? What's the law on that one?
Just things to think about...:P
Gryffygirl: "Have you ever watched someone die brutally? They barely have the strengtht to say a few words, let alone carry on a conversation." - I wrote this scene like 10 times lol. Trying to make sure it wasn't too rushed or too long. The scene isn't really more than a few minutes, it just seems longer because it's in first person so every thought and detail is written. But the reason Sokka is able to talk, I think, is because of his sheer desire to stay with Katara as long as he can. I think Katara even says she's shocked that he's still talking. It's one of those adrenaline miracles, where you push yourself past the possible.
Like A Dove: "My first two theories are based off of the idea that even though there is only one winner of The Black Games, that doesn't necessarily mean that everyone involved in the Games is going to die." - Good point! I like the way you think. :D I'm not saying that's what's going to HAPPEN, I'm saying it's probable, and I like seeing someone thinking outside the box.
DestinyCrusader: "In a lot of ways, she's like Katniss, but in better ways, she's different. See, Katniss sang to Rue when she knew Rue was going to die. But Katara didn't accept it til the very end, when she was absolutely out of all ideas." - Yeah, I've enjoyed being able to look at their differences, despite the shared situation they're in. I think that's something I admire more about Katara is her unyielding, as you say, personality and that sort of refusal to give up hope. Even if it had been Toph or Aang in Sokka's place, I think Katara would still try to save them. It's just who she is, even though only one person can live in the end. Now had that been Gale instead of Rue, I think Katniss might of acted more like Katara, trying everything she can think of to save him.
ShoeNinja: "For what it's worth, it is the first time any work of fanfiction has ever moved me to tears." - I've never had a reader tell me they've cried in one of my fics and I've had several reviews say that about this story. I know it shouldn't make me HAPPY you guys cried or teared up but it makes me feel more accomplished because that means I'm doing my job. :D
Me: "I was expecting Sokka to die, but it was just so sad!" - It's ironic you say that, since Katara says the same thing in this chapter, and I think it's true. Even though you know it's going to happen, it doesn't make it any less sad. :(
"How many more chapters left?" - I'm going to guess..no more than five chapters? The final one is written, for the most part, I just have to get from here to there. :P
SparklingGem: "Just out of curiosity will there be a love triangle?" - Like in the sequel? Hm. Well, I just don't know..:P
Dakota96: "Is it wrong that for some unknown reason I want Azula to win?" - Of course not! Azula is definitely the most physically capable of winning. :D
Sparkling unicorn: "Also, i dont understand where the fight came from?" - Basically, everyone ran into one another but Katara was far away from the fray. Jet and Sokka break loose, because Azula and Ty Lee is focusing on Zuko. Eventually Katara runs into Jet and Sokka. Zuko is running from Azula and Ty Lee, and then since Sokka and Jet weren't that far away, Zuko runs back into them, dragging Azula and Ty Lee with him. Suki was doing her thing, being all sneaky and popping in and out of battles. That sounded very unprofessional haha but there's a quick summary. :P It was a moving fight, so to say, with lots of chasing.
Updated list
Province 1 - Azula and Zuko
Province 5 - Ty Lee
Province 9 - Katara
Province 12 - Suki
