Disclaimer: ATLA and LOK and all characters therein are not mine.
A Change in the Wind
XXVIII. Requiems and Revelations
The arrival of dawn made little difference in terms of available light, as the clouds remained dark and thick and brooding, and the rain continued sleeting down. Beneath such somber skies, the teens had trudged on with their lives, salvaging what supplies they could from the damaged campsite and transferring some to the forest clearing where the Avatar's battle had taken place.
Zuko sat cross-legged beneath a makeshift shelter, little more than a scrap of tent canvas that had been stretched over a tree branch to deter the rain from striking quite so directly. He glanced aside at the Avatar, who dozed fitfully beside him; a bandage was wrapped about her brow at a somewhat rakish angle, and several more encircled her stomach. Iroh had cauterized the nasty puncture wound as best he could with firebending, and he had further prepared a poultice from specific herbs he'd managed to scrounge up from the forest, but even that had not been able to deter the effects she'd already suffered.
Cold sweat beaded up on her forehead, and she mumbled and slurred incoherently in the clutches of a raging fever. Iroh had remarked that might be a good sign, as it indicated her body was still strong enough to fight, but he had advised Zuko to keep a close eye on her all the same.
The dethroned prince's gaze swept to the lean-to's other occupant. Katara had her own bandage around her neck, and she lay still as death, although he knew she was merely sleeping now; at least, that was why her eyes were shut. He wasn't certain when her sabotaged chi pathways would thaw, but he hoped it would be soon. Korra needed more than the rudimentary healing that non-bending techniques could provide.
His jaw tightened to the point where he feared the bones would fuse together or perhaps his teeth would crack, and he dragged a hand over his mouth. To think that Azula had orchestrated this…it made him sick in the depths of his stomach, and sicker in the depths of his heart.
Turning away from his hurt friends, Zuko stared out through the persistent drizzle to consider the slumped form of his sister, instead. She lay trussed on her side where he'd left her hours before, utterly exposed to the storm's wrath; Korra had explained earlier that it was, if not impossible, then at least suicidal to lightningbend while wet, so for everyone's safety, it would be best to keep Azula perpetually soaked. But she seemed disinclined to attack, which worried Zuko almost more than if she'd been ranting and raging.
She just lay silently, her gaze unfocused and her brow pinched, only blinking when the raindrops built up too much on her lashes.
Ty Lee had been deposited beside her, her arms swathed in bandages and more poultices of Iroh's craft, but she had yet to regain consciousness; Zuko gathered that she had passed out from shock shortly after receiving the terrible burns. And Mai remained where she had fallen, but her body had been covered with a scrap of canvas out of respect. Proper Fire Nation burial required a funeral pyre, but while the rain poured down, that would have to wait.
The Freedom Fighters and Kyoshi Warriors had clamored to condemn all three Fire girls to a pyre, but Korra had strictly forbidden any executions, or any other forms of retribution. The Earth Kingdom teens had not been pleased with such commands, as they longed to have vengeance for their fallen comrades, but an order from the Avatar was absolute and indisputable. Desiring the distance, then, they had by and large remained at the old, razed campsite, where they might both honor their friends and resist the temptation to kill their enemies.
Zuko glanced back at Korra. He didn't want to know what kind of hell might break out if she failed to survive this—the Avatar's orders might not mean much if the Avatar herself ceased to draw breath.
He was dredged from his somber musings by Toph; the petite earthbender ducked into the shelter of the lean-to and nodded at him in lieu of a smile, an expression none of them seemed capable of mustering as of late. "Hey, Sparky," she greeted, her usual snarky humor glaringly absent from her tone. "I'm here to keep an eye, as it were, on our two invalids for you. Uncle says you could use some rest, what with you being up all night and everything."
He nodded slowly and rose to his feet with some protesting creaks in his knees. "Thanks," he murmured, and he added, "There's been no change, except that Korra might've gotten worse. I can't really tell, but she's in a bad way, regardless."
Toph settled herself at the Avatar's side and placed a curious hand on her brow; she grimaced at the heat that bled up into her fingers. "Urgh, no kidding. Ice Queen really needs to get her act together. She's letting the whole team down with all this sleeping on the job."
Zuko sighed and conceded that with another nod, but then he was stepping out into the rain. The water was almost warm, as this was a summer storm, after all, but that only made it marginally less uncomfortable than it otherwise would have been—still not something he wanted to suffer for longer than he had to. Despite that opinion, though, he didn't retreat to the other, larger temporary shelter on the clearing's far side, where his uncle, Aang, and Sokka were gathered in the lee of Appa's hulking form; his feet carried him across the muddied ground to his sister's side, instead.
She didn't look up at him when he paused beside her, and he almost thought she remained unaware of his presence until she spoke. Her voice was low and hoarse and so fragile that he hardly recognized it as her voice at all.
"Was the Avatar telling the truth?" she wondered, eyes still fixed on some invisible point in the middle distance that seemed to be causing her pain. "Is Mom really alive?"
He hadn't been expecting that, and he blinked down at her. "Er, yes. She is."
The creases in her brow deepened, ever so slightly. "And did she really ask the Avatar to spare me?"
Zuko looked back over his shoulder, still able to discern Korra's silhouette through the shadow of the rain. He had honestly wondered why his sister had been left alive—when he'd parted ways with Korra on the bluff, after all, she had not seemed adverse to tearing Azula limb from limb—but he recalled now the Avatar's unexplained promise to his mother in Ba Sing Se…
"Yes, I believe she did," he realized.
Azula's expression relaxed somewhat, although it nevertheless exhibited subtle stress and general listlessness. This time, when she spoke, her voice was even hoarser. "Mai's dead, isn't she?"
He swallowed, words failing him. Delivering terrible news had never been his strong suit; he didn't lack compassion, but he lacked grace.
In the end, though, Azula didn't require him to speak. She squeezed her eyes shut, and tears leaked sideways down her face to drip into a puddle of their raindrop cousins. "It's my fault, isn't it? I as good as killed her, didn't I?"
His gaze shifted between Mai's pitiful form and Korra's, but that provided no particular insight. "I don't know," he murmured, and he grappled for something comfortingly vague to offer, more than a little surprised that he wanted to offer it at all, but could only come up with, "There's a lot of variables in war."
If she had heard him, she didn't acknowledge it. "I didn't want her to die," she whispered, instead.
Both comfort and truth came easier now. "I know," he replied gently. "I'm sorry. You two were friends for a long time. This…this must be awful for you."
Her gaze lowered somewhat as she chewed on her bottom lip, and then, at last, she raised her eyes to his; there was still no light in their depths, and they remained as hauntingly empty as an abandoned forge. "What's going to happen to me?" she asked.
Zuko could only shake his head, though. "We're all waiting for Korra to wake up to find out."
Katara snapped awake when pain flooded her limbs, stark and hot and stupefying, and she curled up on agonized reflex, her hands snarling into fists and even her toes curling in the confines of her boots. The breath hissed through her teeth, weighed down with a strained groan, and just as suddenly as the pain had come, it vanished, fading away from her nerves and leaving only a ghost and an echo in its wake.
All her muscles remained tense for a hesitant moment, and then, delicately, she unfurled; another, softer moan trickled off her tongue in stilted degrees.
"Whoa…you okay there, Ice Queen?" Toph ventured. "You like…freaked out."
Katara drew a slower breath and tried to swallow for the first time in twelve hours, and that failed so spectacularly that she felt like she'd eaten an entire beach's worth of sand. Her voice, when she managed to speak, was guttural at best. "Ah…it's…not pleasant to have all your nerves wake up at once," she decided to say, and she reached out towards the rain and directed a veritable waterfall of droplets down her throat.
To hide her concern, Toph snorted. "Well, I hope you enjoyed your beauty sleep. Now stop messin' around and fix Spitfire before she fries herself to a crisp."
Katara sent her half a confused look before her gaze snapped to her girlfriend, and her sharp eyes took in the deep flush of fevered skin and the sickly sheen of sweat and the too-quick rise and fall of her chest. She was on her knees at Korra's side in an instant, one hand whisking the sweat from her brow and the other gently pressing to the now-dry skin. Her breath hissed through her teeth again, this time in dismay, and she interrogated the earthbender even as she summoned a fresh handful of water and placed it soothingly on the Avatar's forehead.
"Has she been this warm the entire time? And how long has she been like this at all? Did the fever start before or after she passed out because if it caused her to pass out, then—"
Toph rocked backwards, hands waving frantically. "Yikes, Ice Queen, I don't know! A while, a while—I guess a while on all counts! But I don't really know!"
Katara cocked only half an ear to her excuses, though, too busy peeling back the bandages on Korra's stomach, which had begun to bleed through. "Spirits, didn't Iroh cauterize this? This is bad, this is really bad…" She trailed off with a grim, vague shake of her head and siphoned another water whip from the rain; she curled this one in place on the knife wound, gradually easing the fluid into the damaged flesh. Her knowledge of treatment when it came to injuries like this was patchy at best, but she felt instincts rising, and they pointed out aspects she might otherwise have missed—how this severed vein had burst its clot, how the spasming of these muscles was aggravating these capillaries, but mostly…
"Oh, spirits," she choked, acid rising in her throat, and she ducked her head, lips pulling taut.
Toph hovered close, looking helplessly at the bloody mess. "What is it, what is it? Words, Katara, words!"
She swallowed against her gag reflex with difficulty. "Gah…well…when Korra was fighting the girl who'd stabbed her, they were rolling all around on the ground, and…it looks like something small found its way…er, inside the wound."
The earthbender went decidedly green. "Blergh," she opined succinctly.
"Blergh is right," Katara agreed. "No wonder she's having such a rough time. Her body's trying to get this thing out of her…it's like a splinter or a pebble or something. Hold her shoulders down, okay?" she more directed than asked as she peeled the bandage back farther and peered narrowly at the puckered hole. "I really doubt she's going to like this."
Toph didn't even bother with bodily restraining the Avatar; she locked the older girl down with stone, instead, taking care to suppress her entire frame.
Katara lifted her brows slightly, still able to appreciate the extraordinary quality of that assistance. "Huh. Thank you. You know, you might have a career as a healer yourself down the road, or at least as a surgeon's assistant."
A sparking grin cracked the younger girl's face. "Gotta keep the options open."
The waterbender returned her attention to the task at hand, freezing long points of ice onto the tips of her thumb and forefinger like the world's coldest pincers. "Here goes nothing," she muttered, and with extreme care and delicacy, she began probing for the obstruction.
Unconsciousness notwithstanding, Korra did not appreciate this invasion; she bucked and jerked and thrashed, but the stone restraints kept her steady enough, and Katara's other hand, braced on Korra's stomach, kept its owner steady as well. Before too long, she was retracting her impromptu pliers and smiling grimly at the dark debris clenched between the dripping tips.
"Aha," she breathed, "gotcha." And she tossed the offending particle away.
Korra slumped back, loose and limp once more, and Toph returned the ground to normal; she looked on avidly as Katara rested a clinical hand on the Avatar's brow. "Well, I might just be imagining it, but she feels cooler already," the waterbender said, and she gloved her hand with soothing liquid once more, wondering almost absently at her friend, "Could you get Iroh? He ought to try sealing this again."
Toph darted out of the shelter, and Katara shifted her full concentration to healing. Before the earthbender had returned, though, Korra stirred, and not just in the throes of agony; her lashes separated, and the lids rose somewhat unevenly as she let out a low groan.
Katara reached up and shifted damp hairs off her brow, offering a faint smile as she did so. "You're awake! I'm relieved, to say the least."
Korra blinked slowly, sky-blue irises still somewhat foggy, and her lips twisted. "Ugh, I feel like I'm gonna throw up," she croaked.
The younger girl's brows tilted in empathy even as her mouth curved anew in jest. "Well, go right ahead, if that's what you need to do. I really can't blame you. I wanted to, and I was just watching."
She almost smiled as well, her eyes slipping shut again. "Thanks for understanding…? But I already did that once tonight, so I have nothing left to give, as it were. Runnin' on empty here."
"Probably for the best," Katara quipped, and she waterbent some rain for Korra, too; the Avatar swilled the liquid around and spat it back out before she lay flat once more, settling with a grimace. Hesitant, not wanting to disturb her rest, Katara traced her thumb along the curve of her girlfriend's cheek, her expression softening as she did so. "I'm glad you're okay. Ish," she amended, considering the vicious wound lurking beneath the bandage.
"'Ish' is good enough for me," Korra replied, but the humor was there and gone. Her hand rose, and her fingers loosely wrapped around Katara's wrist. "I'm glad you're okay, too. I…don't think I've ever been quite so happy to hear your voice."
The waterbender reflected on the distressing silence that had been forced upon her by Ty Lee and how, if Azula had had her way, she never would have uttered another word again. All the sentiments she'd wanted to articulate then came back to her now and rushed for egress from her throat; consequently, she couldn't swallow, and in a fit of irony, she couldn't even speak as she tried to resolve the sudden traffic jam.
Once again, though, Korra seemed to understand the reasons behind her silence, and she tugged her gently down by the wrist and offered an alternative to speech; Katara melted into her warmth, and the shadows from before seemed to thin somewhat, and even the rain seemed to fade…
"Well, here we are, approaching the tent, Uncle!" Toph announced excessively loudly, the auditory equivalent of mugging for all she was worth.
"Er, thank you…?" Iroh ventured, and Katara pulled away from Korra just in time to see the elderly firebender shooting Toph a concerned look as they appeared around the stretched canvas wall. "Are you feeling alright, child? Perhaps you, too, have a touch of fever."
The earthbender laughed, the fakest sound Katara had ever heard, and waved a hand. "What? What? Psh, I'm fine, Uncle. Healthy as an ostrich-horse and just as fond of kicking. Oh, look, Spitfire's bleeding," she diverted brightly, her arm extending in slightly inaccurate indication. "We should do something about that."
But even Toph's one-woman show was not the most unexpected thing to occur, for as it turned out, a greater disturbance was destined to shatter the relative peace.
"Avatar! Avatar, where are you? You're gonna pay for what you did to Mai! Avatar!"
Ty Lee's wrathful shouts were only somewhat muffled by the consistent patter of droplets on canvas, and Katara frowned warily at the acrobat's writhing figure, which she could just glimpse beyond Toph and Iroh as a rain-sketched shadow.
For her part, Korra curtailed a sigh that had half-escaped past her teeth and curled up to a sitting position, grimacing as she pressed a familiar hand to her wound.
Katara caught onto her shoulder. "What're you doing?" she demanded in an incredulous whisper. "You're not actually going out there, are you?"
The Avatar slanted her a look that was somehow both hollow and heavy. "I killed her friend," she said, her voice scraping roughshod in her throat. "Of course I'm going out there."
Katara stared at her for a moment of splintering sympathy, and then her fingers curled back. "Right. Of course," she echoed in muffled agreement, and she simply helped the older girl to her feet, instead, and followed her into the unrelenting storm. The acrobat's shouts had also attracted Sokka, Zuko, and Aang, and the entire team assembled behind Korra as she limped to the fore.
"You wanted the Avatar," she declared softly. Her shoulders were slumped, and not just from physical weariness, as she regarded the two surviving Fire Nation girls. "Here I am."
Azula didn't even look up, maintaining her attitude of disconcerting desolation, but Ty Lee rolled over fiercely, all her usual energy channeled into rage, and she strained against her bonds. "I hope you don't think this is gonna go unavenged just because you've captured us!" she snapped, the words lashing Korra like whips. "I hope you don't think you've won or something! You think you've had it bad up until now, but your suffering hasn't even started, just you wait and see!"
Korra frowned in blank incomprehension. "What're you talking about?"
Azula stirred now, realizing where this conversation was likely leading. "Ty Lee, shut up," she hissed, but her typical venom was missing from her tone, rendering it rather less effectual.
The grieving acrobat raced along with blinders on, disregarding her leader's words and almost everything else. "Your world's gonna go up in flames—literally, it is! The North Pole's gonna get melted back into the ocean, along with everything and everyone you hold dear, and then you'll regret murdering Mai! Then you'll be sorry!"
Korra's heart collided messily with her ribs, and she crouched down, fisting her hands in Ty Lee's muddy collar and catching her furious eyes with her own horrified ones. "What're you talking about?" she repeated, far more urgently now. "What's happening at the North Pole? Shit, tell me! What've you done to my family?"
Ty Lee just grinned, a dark scar in her face. "And the Navy's gonna come looking for us, anyway! You might not even make it home to die with your people—you might die when a whole army comes to rescue us! How about that, Avatar? Do you feel like you really won now? 'Cause you're about to lose it all!"
Korra shoved her away, slipping from her crouch to her knees from the force of it, and she hauled Azula up, instead. "Tell me what the hell is going on, or so help me, I will bloodbend you again, and this time, I'll see just how much damage it can do!"
The princess regarded her levelly, her lips pursed, and her gaze slid away as she sighed. "It's too late to make a difference now, anyway," she remarked. "Ty Lee's right—if you get home at all, it will only be in time to burn with the rest of the Northern Water Tribe. And she's right about the Navy expecting to rendezvous with us as well; they will not look kindly upon that missed appointment, and they will raze the Earth Kingdom to the ground until they find us."
The Avatar released her, too, but with numbing fingers, and she slumped back in the mud, those hands contorting into claws as she bowed her head into their lacking support. "Oh, spirits," she groaned, and sobs welled up in her throat. "No, no, no, this can't be happening…I already lost my parents!" she cried, turning beseechingly to Katara. "Uncle and Yue can't die, too! Shit, they can't!"
The waterbender knelt down and wrapped her arms around the Avatar's shaking shoulders, pulling her into a sideways embrace and resting her chin on rain-soaked dark hair. "No, it's going to be okay," she denied in the face of all the evidence to the contrary. "Appa's fast—faster than the Fire Navy, and we'll get there in time to warn them, to prepare them, maybe even to evacuate. It'll…" She faltered under the weight of the circumstances but persevered. "It'll be okay."
Off to the side, Sokka's forehead rumpled in a thoughtful frown, even as his eyes shone with the light at the end of the tunnel. "Wait, let me get this straight," he said, stepping forward. "The Navy's gonna come looking for you ladies—you said it was a rendezvous? So they're coming to pick you up to bring you to the battle?"
Azula stared at him, not betraying a whisker, but Ty Lee sneered, "What of it, Water boy?"
He ignored the more colorful aspects of that reply, his gaze shifting to the female firebender. "You're the Crown Princess, right? So that means you're in charge. So this ship is coming to pick up its general, essentially, to bring her to the battle. I mean, can the attack even go down until you're there? You don't seem the type to let subordinates do whatever they please—present company excepted, of course," he added with a nod at the recently reckless Ty Lee.
The acrobat finally seemed to understand the dire straits of this situation, as she contracted slightly, her eyes rounding. For her part, Azula maintained her nonplussed gaze, but that was more of a giveaway now than loud verbal assent.
Sokka chuckled gleefully and rubbed his hands together.
Roused from her distraught state, Korra got halfway to her feet, her narrowed gaze fixed on the warrior. "What exactly is going on here?" she asked, slow with suspicion.
A broad grin flourished on Sokka's face. "I think I have a totally awesome plan," he revealed, and he flicked his fingers into stars as he added, "And it's gonna blow your mind."
Half a day's ride on Appa had brought them out of the storm; the clouds still darkened the southern horizon, but it was bright and clear here—or, at least, it was except for the smoke. It once had billowed strongly from Mai's pyre, but as one had diminished, so had the other, and now only silvery tendrils rose from the ashes.
Korra blinked moisture from her eyes as she squinted up at the sky, and she cleared her throat. "We should get going," she remarked, not unkindly, and she glanced aside at the small company. According to the strictures of Sokka's plan, the group had split up, and the only people here were the now-four members of the Fire Nation, plus the two Water Tribe girls. "We still have a ways to go, and no more time to spare."
Azula and Ty Lee wavered reluctantly, wishing to linger here in mourning a bit longer, but when Zuko and Iroh settled guiding hands on their shoulders, they did not resist, permitting themselves to be led back to the sky bison. The Avatar watched them shuffle away, their legs hobbled and their wrists bound—even considering their emotional state, she was taking no chances—and then she returned her gaze to the remnants of the pyre, to the blackened earth and the pitiful ashes.
Knowing from Zuko that this was the proper valediction, she whispered, "May you rest forevermore in the peaceful warmth of Agni's light." Assuming an airbending stance, she summoned the gentlest breeze and coaxed it to carry the ashes away, away off to the west, where they might set with the sun.
And rise with the moon, Korra thought to herself, but that was a sentiment from the Water Tribe's funeral rite, not the Fire Nation's. Somehow, though, it seemed appropriate all the same, perhaps because she was the Avatar, or perhaps because that was simply the celestial order of things: the sun set, and the moon rose; the stars spun, and time passed. Like a wheel, like a river, with an irreversible current and an unchangeable course. It almost felt like it was catching up to her, like her toes were scraping this river's bed and the waves were washing away the sunlight…
She was shaken from her thoughts, though, by Katara settling a gentle hand on her arm.
"I know it means that you have a heart, but don't beat yourself up too much," the waterbender said, fingers slipping down until they twined through the Avatar's and gave them a strengthening squeeze.
She managed a smile, weak and flickering. "Yeah," she agreed anyway, the word a breath. She inhaled more deeply in its wake and winced as pain sparked in her stomach. "Heh, to think I had a clean bill of health for two whole days," she lilted ruefully.
Katara fell into step beside her as she began walking back to Appa. "I think it might be easier if you just count the days that you aren't hurt," she said, only half-teasing.
Korra conceded that with meaningfully raised brows, and then she clambered up onto the sky bison's head and took the reins in her hands. "Okay," she announced to the group at large, "next stop, Northern Air Temple."
Zuko draped an arm over the saddle's edge so that he could face her more comfortably. "Do you really think that will be the best place to keep them?" he wondered, referencing the Fire Nation girls.
The Avatar shrugged and snapped the reins; braying, Appa rose into the sky. "Sifu seemed to think so. I mean, he has a point—it's deserted, right? And it's on the way. Maybe it won't be the ideal prison, but it sure will be better than nothing. You and Iroh should be reasonably comfortable there as well."
He nodded vague agreement. "And you'll be off to the North Pole," he concluded.
Something bleak chased across her eyes. "Yep," she said, the lightness falling flat. "Homeward bound."
Appa grumbled as she flicked the reins again, urging him on to greater speeds, but he complied without further complaint. Perhaps even he understood the slippery slope of time and that, at any moment, they might fall off into the abyss.
Under any other circumstances, Azula might have enjoyed flying, but under these, she was ambivalent. It seemed that she was ambivalent about most things these days; she hardly tasted the food she was given, and Iroh's carefully brewed tea might as well have been plain water. Conversations rolled past her, as meaningless as the wind itself, and she stared off the saddle's edge and watched without interest as the clouds slowly changed and the landscape with them.
They were well into the mountains now, sharp and craggy things, cloaked here and there with snow despite it being almost the summer solstice. The air sliced into her skin, cold and thin and sharp, and she pulled her bound arms more tightly to her chest and drew her legs up closer, seeking what little body heat she had to spare. She could've used the breath of fire, but that might have aroused suspicion, and to that end, she had to admit that she could use the breath of fire for much more than warmth and comfort—she could've attacked them all with a plume of unexpected cobalt flame.
But to what point and purpose? Down to her soul, she was defeated.
Azula shifted her weight and her gaze with it, dull golden eyes taking in the scene on the saddle's far side. Zuko was smirking and Iroh chortling, and the waterbender in the middle was laughing brightly as she leaned over the saddle and looked at the Avatar, who was turned halfway on the bison's head and apparently the source of whatever had amused the others. Azula's gaze, morose now, lingered on her brother and her uncle, on their obvious happiness and carefree natures, and some jealous, treacherous part of her whispered that the four of them looked like a family—that somehow, with complete disregard of blood ties, the waterbender and the Avatar belonged more with Zuko and Iroh than she did.
But the two girls had apparently met with Ursa, too, so maybe it was true.
Maybe she had been replaced.
And that thought stung worst of all, and only it served to pierce the apathetic armor she had donned in the wake of Mai's death and her own subsequent defeat. For the entirety of her childhood, she had striven to please both her parents; as a prodigy, she had been accustomed to things coming to her easily, and it had always bewildered her that, straightforward as it was to secure her father's approval, achieving the same response from her mother had always been woefully difficult, if not utterly impossible. It had seemed that whatever she did to please Ozai had only succeeded in alienating Ursa.
And always, always, Ursa had doted on Zuko, on unremarkable and clumsy and father-disapproved Zuko. Sometimes that had plagued Azula into the small dark hours before dawn, tossing and turning in her silk sheets as she warred with herself. Should she attempt to imitate Zuko and appease her mother, or should she continue to ape her father? Her dilemma was real and contrasting and glaringly bright—she seemed doomed to only have the love of one of her parents, no matter what she did or how hard she tried.
So she'd given up on Ursa, in a way—her mother's love might be elusive, but she could strive to win the whole of her father's. And so she had become more ruthless and less forgiving, and she had plotted and schemed, because in the end, she suspected that, if she became enough like her father, perhaps her mother's affections would naturally follow. After all, Ursa loved Ozai, right? Right? So…
But when Ursa had left, whatever balance she may have exerted upon Azula left with her. Ozai had blamed Zuko for their mother's disappearance, claiming that his weakness and ineptitude had so shamed her that she could bear being there no longer. Azula had never quite felt that Zuko believed that, and she'd considered it with a grain of salt herself, but it made little difference because Ursa was gone all the same.
And Azula had twisted further and further in on herself, spiraling like a corkscrew, like a vulture, until she couldn't see the light and barely would've recognized it if she had.
There was a glimmer now, though, and dim as it was in reality, to her, it shone brighter than the sun. It burned her eyes with searing pain that was worse than Ozai's fire and worse, too, than Ozai's words of praise delivered on a tone of disdain. She cowered beneath its unrelenting stare, not the least because it revealed aspects of herself that the shadows had so soothingly hidden: truths she had never had to confront, truths she had forgotten had ever existed.
Sometimes, as it turned out, light was even more treacherous than the dark.
Azula shuddered, surfacing somewhat from the cloying depths of her untraceable thoughts, and blinked against the chilling kiss of the wind. She didn't know what would become of her when they arrived at the temple, but she couldn't say that she really cared. That wasn't a mystery that concerned her, not when she no longer even knew who she was at all.
Perhaps, though, if she were permitted to see her mother again, she would finally find out.
At the front of the saddle, Korra turned around once more, but this time she was wearing a rather more quizzical expression. "Um, guys? I'd say that we've arrived, but…er, this place is anything but deserted…"
Katara rose up on her knees, bracing her hands on the saddle's lip for balance and just a bit of extra height, and a frown chased across her face. "What do you mean, it's not…" She trailed off into stunned silence, though, and finally managed, "Who are they?"
The Avatar shrugged expansive ignorance as she considered the sight before them. One of the mountains was capped not with snow but with turrets and pillars and arches of stone, all of which had been hewn from the living rock—carved, not constructed. While impressive in its own right, the architecture simply identified the place as a place at all, and given the lack of other options, it had to be the Northern Air Temple. But the Air Nomads, of course, were famously extinct, so it became exponentially more baffling to see the avian forms of gliders on the wind.
Zuko clambered up as well, his mouth hanging wide. "They're…are they airbending? They can't be airbending, right? Why are they airbending?"
Korra shook her head slowly, but as Appa drew nearer and the shapes became more distinct, she could tell that they didn't move like Aang did: the monk flew with purpose and agility, as capable of sharp changes as graceful flight, but these people lazily spiraled, slow and seemingly dependent upon the whims of the wind. Like birds of prey, Korra realized—like how she herself had utilized Aang's glider in her search for Katara. Perhaps these people, too, were relying exclusively on thermals for their altitude.
Although where they were getting hot air in these frigid alpine heights, Korra had no idea.
"I don't think they are airbending," she offered at last, adding more grimly, "but I'd really like to ask them why they're putting on such a show."
"It does seem a bit tasteless and disrespectful," Katara agreed, settling down to sit on her heels, even as she continued to watch the distant shapes wheel and slip like seagulls. "Masquerading as airbenders like this."
"Sifu would freak out, I've no doubt," Korra sighed, and she directed Appa towards one of the few flat, open spaces on the otherwise spiky temple. "Good thing he hung back with Sokka and the rest. It'd be a real shame if he blew a blood vessel and we really lost all the airbenders."
Zuko arched his good brow at her for that speech. "You paint a pretty picture as always," he remarked.
"Well, I don't know," she protested, narrowing her eyes against the accelerating wind as Appa tilted into a proper dive. "I can't imagine him being thrilled with the circumstances. That's all I meant." She was spared further defense, though, as the sky bison's six feet made contact with the cracked pavers on the wide terrace, and the gliders closed in. They had taken notice of Appa's approach, but without any true control over the wind, their own approach had been a slower and more roundabout affair; even now some of them were still circling, attempting to find the appropriate angle to land.
Korra stood up, her eyes following the gliders, and directed a cautionary hand at her friends. "You guys wait here," she said. "As always, people tend to get uppity when faced with firebenders, even ones bound hand and foot. Tara, as the opposite of threatening, you're with me."
The waterbender wrinkled her nose, as if she weren't sure that were a compliment, but hopped down after the older girl, who had taken several steps forward with her arms crossed on her chest in a no-nonsense pose. One of the gliders finally managed to find its opening, and it struck the stone floor with significant rattling before it rolled to a halt before the girls.
Its operator, a young boy, pulled up his goggles and offered them a cheery grin. "Hey, there! I'm Teo. Is that a real sky bison? I've only heard about them in legends!"
Caught somewhat off-guard, Korra swiveled to consider Appa, as if she'd never really looked at the beast before, and then she swiveled back. "Er, yeah, that's a real sky bison, alright. But as long as we're asking about authenticity," she said, her tone sliding back towards severity, "I think I should like to know who you are and what you're doing here, because in the light of common knowledge and the word of the actual last airbender, this place ought to be deserted."
Teo peered up at her, some of his good humor fading. "We live here," he said bluntly. "We've lived here for a long time, ever since my village was destroyed in a flood. It's our home now." Some more of the gliders came in to land, and Korra saw that they were regular gliders—not augmented by the wheelchair contraption like Teo's. Before she had time to realize the significance, though, he was demanding, "And who are you, anyway, to just barge in and tell us we don't belong in our own home?"
Korra opened her mouth, but Katara was slipping to the fore, her hands rising in a placating manner. "She doesn't mean any offense; she's just had her trust worn a little thin lately. Some crazy stuff has happened to us. But that isn't really relevant," she conceded. "More to the point, I'm Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, and she's Korra, the Avatar."
The boy's eyes and mouth all rounded, an expression he must've stolen from a bowling ball, and then he grinned broadly, exuberant once more. "No way, the Avatar? That's crazy! We'd all but given up on the Avatar, ever since the last one disappeared before the war. But if you're here now, then it must be almost over, eh? You'll be mopping up the Fire Nation before the summer's out, right?"
Korra cracked a crooked smile and scratched at the back of her neck. "Er, yeah. Here's to hoping, kid."
He wheeled his chair back and beckoned them energetically. "C'mon! You have to meet everyone. My dad's gonna flip out when he realizes who you are! C'mon!"
She hesitated, though, glancing back at Appa and his passengers. "Well, Teo, we…we really were hoping this place would be empty because…uh, that stuff Katara mentioned? Hard times and all? It's kinda followed us here, as it were, in that we have prisoners onboard." She jerked her thumb indicatively. "The North Pole's under threat, see, and we didn't want to run the risk of them getting rescued, so we were gonna stash 'em here until it was over…"
Teo absorbed that with much blinking, his eyes constantly darting between the visible heads of the Fire Nation members on the sky bison and the Avatar herself. "You…I…oh. Oh."
"Yeah," she confirmed with an apologetic wince. "Obviously, we won't burden you with them now, but we really ought to get going. Time is kinda of the essence and all."
But he was shaking his head and palming the wheels once more. "No, no, I—I'll talk to my dad. This place is huge, I'm sure it won't be a-a-a big deal or whatever to…I mean, you're the Avatar. We can't really refuse to help, right?"
"You are totally free to refuse," Korra denied, waving her hands. "Geez, I'm not gonna order you to or anything—flagrant abuse of power, anyone? We'll just be on our way—"
"No," he interrupted, drawing himself up as much as he could. "I want to help. I insist."
She exchanged a glance with Katara, who shrugged in a why not sort of way, and she exhaled a gusty sigh. "Oh, alright. But then I insist on coming with you and explaining everything to your dad myself. Guys," she called to Zuko and Iroh, "sit tight. We'll be right back."
The firebenders nodded their acknowledgment, and the Avatar and the waterbender fell into step behind Teo, whose chair wheels clicked on the edge of every paver; it was a rhythmic accompaniment, almost akin to footfalls. They wound deeply into the temple, which featured thoughtful wooden ramps and pulley-powered lifts on the many sweeping flights of stairs, and as they went, Teo pointed out the more industrial aspects of the place, describing in great detail how his father had imposed technology and innovation on the ancient structure.
"I stand by what I said before," Korra whispered to Katara out of the corner of her mouth. "Sifu would definitely freak if he saw this place."
The younger girl agreed to that with a meaningful lift of her brows and a slight shake of her head.
On the one hand, Korra could understand why the engineer had seen fit to remodel—perhaps he just liked to tinker with things, or perhaps he wanted to make it look and work more like his old home—but on the other hand, she couldn't understand what was so wrong with the temple in the first place. It seemed largely akin to the Southern, and she, Sokka, and Katara had lived there without complaint; granted, that had been for a much shorter duration, but Korra had also spent the entire rest of her life in the North Pole without any of these contraptions, either, so she ultimately wasn't sure what they contributed.
As far as she could tell, the only real benefit was the artificially-created thermals, which granted young Teo the ability to fly when he otherwise would be confined to the earth and further to a chair. She wouldn't have thought it possible to lift something as intangible as a spirit with mere machines, but it seemed to be working.
And if the engineer's renovations were all to make his son smile…well, in the end, Korra admitted that even Aang probably wouldn't have objected too loudly. Some things were more important than the preservation of old stone.
However much she'd warmed up to the idea of the engineer, though, he was not nearly as thrilled to see her.
Teo rolled into a cramped office, but that was not quite accurate; the room itself was spacious, but it was overflowing with an abundance of odds and ends, from towering piles of parchment sketches to half-finished models to boxes of tools and scrap. In the midst of all this chaos, a man on the declining side of his prime busily attacked the latest unfortunate thing to pass across his desk, and his wild hair, patchwork eyebrows, and magnifying monocle gave him a startling, eccentric appearance.
"Dad!" Teo exclaimed, navigating the mess with practiced ease. "Look who dropped in on us! It's the Avatar!" And he swept an excited arm out, almost taking out an entire stack of balsa wood as he did so.
The engineer, Weo, accidentally sliced the tip off the wing strut he was constructing, and he would've sliced the tip off his finger, too, if it hadn't already been replaced with a wooden prosthetic. He barely had time to set his knife down safely—and Korra was glad he bothered—before he rounded the desk and shoved her sharply backwards with both hands.
"The Avatar? The Avatar? No!" he said, and it might've been considered a shout if he hadn't still sounded half-distracted by whatever problem his mind currently mulled. He continued walking as he shoved, propelling her back towards the door. "We can't be having any Avatars here, no, thank you!"
"Um, wow, sorry?" Korra said, and she caught onto his wrists and truncated her immediate departure. He was no match for her in strength, and while he tried to continue expelling her, she succeeded in preventing him. He looked almost comical as he took no notice of this, his feet continuing to slide on the floor, however stationary he remained.
"Dad!" Teo bleated. "What're you doing?"
He shook his head, still determinedly pushing. "Nope, nope. Sorry, son, but the Avatar's not welcome here. 'Fraid it just won't work."
Suspicion shadowed Korra's eyes, and she shifted a hand to his chest, pushing back until her elbow was locked; at this distance, she scrutinized him. "Look, I don't expect everyone to throw a feast in my honor or whatever, but you're way too eager to get rid of me. What the hell's going on here?"
Weo continued shaking his head, even as he failed to meet her gaze even once. "Nothing, nothing," he said, as subtle as a parrot. "Busy, busy, I'm so busy—things to do. Nice to meet you and all, but-but-but I've things to do, so many things, goodbye now…"
"What're you talking about?" his son interrupted, his eyes wide and pleading. "You haven't renovated anything in the longest time! What could you possibly be working on?"
"Yeah," Korra agreed, and her fingers curled in his leather workman's apron, anchoring him in place. "What are you working on?"
Without warning, he slumped against her grip; as a person, he was not suited for duplicity, and the strain of deception had worn him weary. "Avatar, I must confess something of which I'm not proud," he mumbled, and he glanced aside at Teo and Katara, raising his voice back to a more audible volume. "Son, take the Avatar's friend to get some lunch. I have important matters to attend."
The boy almost looked like he was going to protest, but his mouth sealed in a thin line and he permitted this secrecy, directing his chair back out of the cluttered office. With a questioning glance at Korra, Katara followed in his wake, although her hand rested on her waterskin the entire time.
The engineer and the Avatar remained perfectly motionless as they listened to the echoes of the others' departure die away, and then she untangled her fingers from his apron. Before she could press him for answers, he was sweeping papers and general debris aside on the floor, revealing the contours of a trapdoor. Wordlessly, he opened it, and she crouched at its edge, able to see the rope ladder descending into darkness but not able to see anything else.
"Where does this lead?" she asked, her eyes never leaving his downcast ones.
He flinched at the mere question but failed to provide a substantial answer. "You will soon see," he sighed, and he lit a glassed-in lantern and hooked it to his belt. It made little more than a dent in the shadows as they climbed the ladder, but Korra could almost taste the dimension of the chamber below; it had the same vast, empty feeling as Wan Shi Tong's library—without any visual confirmation, she just knew the walls, and especially the floor, were all disconcertingly far away.
The floor did exist, though, and as soon as her feet touched it, Korra stepped away from the flammable ladder and ignited fire in both her hands. What the flickering yellow light revealed made her jaw list open at an unconscious angle and further poured ice down her spine.
The room was full of weapons and machines of war, and every last one of them was stamped with the Fire Nation insignia.
"Oh, crap," she breathed, turning in a slow circle as she absorbed the sheer volume of arms. "Oh, crap, you're…you're working for the Fire Nation? Why? What are these for?"
Weo waved his arms helplessly. "Shortly after we settled here, we were discovered by the Fire Army; I guess they kept an eye on the place, possibly out of the thought that the last Avatar, who was an airbender, might've somehow survived and might return. But regardless of their reasoning, they found us, and they would've killed us, too, if I hadn't made this devil's bargain." He dragged his assorted fingers through his wild hair and groaned. "I didn't want to, Avatar, but what choice did I have? I already lost my wife to that flood—I couldn't lose my son to Fire!"
She settled a hand on his shoulder. "No, that's…understandable," she murmured.
"It was General Kai," Weo went on, quaking as the truths flowed free. "I heard he replaced General Iroh after the failed siege of Ba Sing Se. Kai, too, wanted to conquer the capital, and so he commissioned me to find new, ingenious ways of doing so. I'm sorry to say," he remarked bitterly, "that I'm quite good at new and ingenious ways. Do you see these?" He pulled tarps off iron husks, which almost looked like the hulls of ships, and they were filled with bundled red canvas. "These are war balloons; they'll fly right over Ba Sing Se's walls. I designed them, and I built them, but…oh, Avatar, if I had actually handed them over, I knew that would seal the city's fate, and the world's with it. I couldn't bear to even think of what I'd done, so I hid them here and have been stalling Kai ever since…"
"Yikes," Korra agreed weakly. "That would've been the end of the Earth Kingdom, alright." She leaned over one of the war machine's hulls, giving the furnace assembly and the general dimensions a quick glance, and something far more thoughtful than dismay colored her expression. "Say…do these things work, though?"
He sniffed, his craftsman's pride not appreciating this potential slight. "Of course they work. They'll bring fire and destruction raining down upon us all. They work too well, if anything."
She gave a vague nod. "Uh-huh. And how many people do you think each of these will carry?"
He cocked his head to one side in calculation. "Hm…not a terribly large number. I intended them to be used as a quick up-and-over thing, or perhaps on scouting missions. Perhaps seven or eight would fit comfortably."
She drummed her fingers on the iron side. "That's fine, that's fine," she said absently. "How do they fly, exactly?"
"The furnace and the balloon," he said, pointing at each element in turn. "The furnace heats the air, and the hot air fills the balloon, and that lifts the whole thing into the sky. There are even fins to provide steering." He shuddered. "It really is the most horrific contraption I've ever invented."
"I wouldn't beat yourself up too much," Korra remarked. "One last question—can the furnaces be fueled by firebenders?"
"That was my intention," he confirmed. "Otherwise, you could utilize wood or coal, although that would greatly reduce the space for passengers…" He trailed off, only just realizing the nature of her questions. "Wait—do you intend to use these, Avatar?"
A grin curled her lips, and she gave an innocent shrug. "Well…I have something of an army of my own, except it's lagging far behind, as I've only got the one sky bison. It would be a huge help if I could somehow get them places more quickly…they do have a bit of an appointment to keep."
Weo stared at her for a full ten seconds, and then he burst into animated life. "By the spirits, take them, Avatar, take them! Use them for something good and just, and I'll be able to sleep again at night! Well, maybe not much," he muttered to himself, "stupid ideas come sleeting into my brain like raindrops and keep me up, but from a moralistic standpoint, I'll be sleeping like a baby!"
"Great!" Korra declared, and she shook him soundly by the hand. "I'll take three."
He balked. "Three? But Avatar, even you can't possibly fly three of them at once. Who will fuel the other two?"
She shrugged, almost slyly. "Oh, I can think of a few people."
Given the pacifist nature of Air Nomads, the temple had been built with a glaring lack of dungeons, and even Weo had not thought to retrofit them into the floor plan. The closest thing, then, was an attic in the top of a turret, which was small, possessed only slit-windows for air and light, and could only be accessed by a trapdoor. Weo's innovations had, however, allowed for proper restraints—doubtlessly commissioned by General Kai for less savory purposes—and the two Fire Nation girls were more securely subdued than before, their wrists and ankles hobbled by metal plates.
Korra supervised the prisoners' installation in the tower, her arms folded on her chest and a distant sort of frown creasing her features. As soon as Weo finished seating the chains in the walls, which granted the girls some free range but not enough slack to safely descend the trapdoor, even assuming they could wrench it open, he departed with a last look at the Avatar.
Transfixed for a moment by the way the dust motes flared like fire in the slanting sunlight, Korra released a soft sigh. "I've made my wishes clear. Your new keepers have been instructed to treat you with courtesy and fairness. They know who you are, but they also know not to attempt to hold you for ransom or otherwise barter for your freedom, or to attempt to punish you for your crimes, all upon pain of answering to me. At worst, you two will be really bored."
Ty Lee accepted that at face value and curled up as best she could against the concave walls. Her arms were still bandaged, but they had been substantially healed by Katara, to the point where the pain was gone and the marks almost faded back into her flesh; the waterbender's forte remained, it seemed, with more superficial trauma, as Korra's own wound ached beneath its wrapping.
Azula, however, stared up at the Avatar with a wrinkle in her brow. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, quiet and toneless as she voiced the question that had been on her mind for days. "I had every intention to kill you and the waterbender."
"Her name is Katara," Korra interjected again, as quiet and toneless as her defeated enemy, but there was a gleaming edge, even so. "And I haven't forgotten, nor have I forgiven you, nor will I ever. I can't even imagine being half as cold as you, and I've lived through seventeen winters in the North Pole."
"That does not explain this mercy, Avatar."
"Is it mercy? I suppose so," the older girl mused softly, and she shook her head. "But I have no right to judge you, Azula. I don't even know the extent of your crimes. I'm sure, once the war's over, there will be some sort of tribunal that will decide what you deserve, and perhaps as Avatar, I'll have some part to play in that. But until then, I refuse to decide your fate or to suffer anyone else to try to do the same, and I'll see to it that you're accorded basic dignity and respect. I understand," she concluded in a humorless drawl, "that such a consideration might be unfamiliar to you."
"So we are to await our fates here, then," the princess murmured, not really objecting to the idea but more mulling it over, getting a taste for it.
"Yes," Korra confirmed. "I have to go meet mine, as it happens. Should we win the battle, we'll be back, and I'll see to it that, regardless of tribunals and judgments, you have the chance to see your mother again. Less for your sake," she admitted, "and more for Lady Ursa's, but still. Take what you can get, I s'pose."
Azula wasn't the type to speak words of gratitude, and they failed now to pass her lips, but something in the way she looked up at the Avatar indicated the sentiment all the same.
Korra nodded, as if the firebender had spoken, and turned away.
Azula settled back against the wall, and her attention wandered, her gaze slipping aside until, as the other girl had done, she watched the dust motes glitter and burn. When she reached out towards them, her fingers passing into the shaft of light, she half-expected it to scald, the illusion of fire was so convincing, but there was no pain—only warmth, as gentle and soothing and soft as a mother's caress.
Oh, she thought. Yes. I remember now. Fire doesn't have to hurt.
"Ty Lee," she said aloud, the words coming to her from far away, "I'm sorry. For your loss."
The acrobat stirred, looking up from her weary curl, and she shook her head. "You don't have to say that, Azula," she replied, her voice an empty husk. "I know you loved her, too."
"I did," the princess agreed, her unfocused gaze resting on her hand as it shifted in the sunlight. "Even so, though…even so, I'm sorry. For Mai, but also…because it's come to this."
"It could be worse," Ty Lee dismissed with a glimmer of her usual effervescence. "We've still got each other."
It might've just been a trick of the sharpening shadows, but it certainly looked, if only for an instant, like Azula had smiled.
Katara looked on anxiously as Weo fussed with the securing lines of the balloons and tinkered a last few times with the furnaces, and she glanced aside at Korra. The older girl was talking to several of the village elders and reviewing the details of Azula and Ty Lee's imprisonment, mostly the part where they should never let their guard down at any cost, because newly-turned leaves or not, Azula was still a force to be reckoned with.
Becoming aware of a presence in her periphery, Katara turned to look at Zuko, and he returned her gaze with a lifted brow. "You're lucky you don't have to fly one of these things," he said, nodding at the war balloons. "I'm sure they're built sturdily and all, but still…" He trailed off, sucking in a breath as he did so.
She privately agreed with him with her whole heart, but she didn't want to make him nervous, so she declined from echoing his concerns aloud. "You'll be flying alongside Iroh and Korra, though. If something happens to one of the ships, the others will rescue it. It'll be fine."
He accepted that, but both teens were distracted by Teo, who rolled up with several gliders on his lap and went about lashing them to the hulls. "Er, what're you doing?" the firebender asked.
"Oh, these? They're like lifeboats," Teo said cheerfully. "If it all goes up in flames, you can still glide to safety!"
Zuko paled, not the easiest feat given his baseline complexion, and Katara patted his shoulder gingerly and decided to repeat, "You'll be fine. You'll be…just fine."
He cast her a withering sidelong look. "Try sounding a little less confident next time," he advised with brittle sarcasm. "I almost believed you."
She batted his arm, and the teasing reaction nearly disguised her own doubt. "I'll work on it and get back to you," she replied, and with a last, more companionable pat, she stepped away, weaving through the gathering crowd of onlookers to the Avatar's side. "You just about ready to go?"
Korra rested her hands on her hips and glanced around. "Yeah, just about," she agreed.
Katara scuffed at the stone pavers, her eyes deliberately lowered to watch the action, as if it were somehow fascinating. "And you're…sure about this plan? You're okay not heading to the North Pole right away?"
Her expression dimmed, a frown pulling at her lips, but she bobbed her head all the same. "Yeah," she agreed, heavily now. "It's not ideal, but…getting all the Freedom Fighters and Kyoshi Warriors to the coast in time will take three of these things. I mean, Sokka and Suki and that group have the tank, so they'll be making better time, but given the risks involved, I'd feel a lot better knowing that more than just a few people are going up against a destroyer full of soldiers. Your brother might have some ridiculous plan tucked up his sleeve, and their deception might pull off without a hitch, but a little insurance never hurt anyone. With us and the army, we'll be able to take over that ship easily."
The waterbender nodded, the gesture loose with distraction. "It does sound easy enough."
Korra slung an arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, Tara. This isn't even the big battle yet. Just one more skirmish in a long line of skirmishes—no big deal."
She glanced up at her doubtfully. "And you won't get hurt this time?"
"For the sheer novelty of it," the other girl laughed, "I swear that I won't."
Somewhat reassured, Katara leaned more into the Avatar's half-embrace, her eyes closing briefly. "And I swear that I'll get to the North Pole before that big battle hits," she said. "Assuming I can find it, that is."
Korra snorted. "You can't miss it, trust me. It's a giant city made of ice. Just keep heading northwest once you get over the ocean, and anyway, they'll probably find you. They'll notice the huge fluffy monster coming their way and want to investigate."
She permitted a small smile at that. "Right. Well…I guess this is goodbye, then."
"Tch, so serious!" the Avatar remarked with a broad grin. "This is see you later." She pulled Katara into a proper embrace, wrapping the slimmer girl in the breadth of her shoulders, and glanced a hand down her hair even as she dusted a kiss onto the top of her bowed head. "So, see you later, Tara."
Closing her eyes again and soaking in every last ounce of familiar warmth, she nodded in mute reply; somehow, her throat was too thick for speech. Cold returned in a rush as Korra eased away, and Katara looked up in time to see her vault into one of the war balloons. She lifted a hand in an echo of the Avatar's farewell wave and directed similar gestures at the firebenders, and then she climbed, all alone, onto Appa and settled herself on the bison's head. Taking the reins in unfamiliar hands, she looked down at her remaining companion.
"Well, boy," she sighed, "guess it's just you and me. Don't be annoyed if I accidentally talk your ear off, okay? I think I'll be a little lonely. But, um…what is it again? Oh, yeah—yip-yip!"
With his usual roar, the giant beast rose into the sky, and the world spread out beneath them, carpeted with clouds. On the northern horizon, if she squinted, Katara convinced herself that she caught a glimpse of blue, and even knowing she was an entire world away, the prospect of an ocean rimmed with frost made her feel as if she were finally coming home.
