Published May 16, 2013
"The Ties That Bind"
"I know," said Poirot. "I have heard of it. I have seen it once or twice. Love can turn to hate very easily. It is easier to hate where you have loved than it is to be indifferent where you have loved." ~ Agatha Christie, Elephants Can Remember
You need to know the story of your great-grandfather's demise. It will reveal your own destiny.
Iroh was the only one with whom Zuko had ever discussed his destiny. The letter and its surreptitious delivery made him suspicious, but he was also intrigued. Especially by the latter part; the promise of finding his own destiny was tempting—he had always sought it, and lately he had thought that he nearly fulfilled it, but now he wasn't so sure. He couldn't pass up the chance to find some clarity regarding it.
It wasn't until the following night, on the summer solstice, that Zuko found another message on the scroll, written in ink that only became visible when exposed to heat. When he threw the scroll on a lantern in frustration, more words appeared: The Fire Sages keep the secret history in the Dragon Bone Catacombs.
Zuko's last encounter with any of the Fire Sages had been at the Temple of Avatar Roku. He remembered that one of them, Shyu, had actually turned against the others and chose to help the Avatar, claiming it had been the Sages' original purpose. Thinking that some of the Sages in the Fire Nation Capital might have similar beliefs, Zuko chose not to ask them directly, and instead snuck into the Capital Temple and descended to the passageways underneath. There, he found a box of scrolls with a promising label: "The Last Testament of Fire Lord Sozin."
Zuko spent the remaining hours of the night in the catacombs, reading the ancient scrolls. He was amazed by the story, and even more by fact that he'd never heard it before—at least not the part about Avatar Roku and Fire Lord Sozin being such close friends. He had done so much research about the Avatars during his banishment—how had he missed that detail?
He was slightly surprised by Sozin's mournful, even regretful tone, from the beginning of the testament to the end. As I feel my own life dimming, I can't help but think of a time when everything was so much brighter. Sozin was regarded as the most successful Fire Lord in history; yet his words seemed to express regret. Only it was unclear exactly why—he did not say whether he regretted any of his actions regarding Roku or the war.
Zuko came to the end of the scroll, and was chilled by the last few sentences, which were so relevant to his own life. I knew the next Avatar would be born an Air Nomad, so I wiped out the Air Temples. But somehow, the new Avatar eluded me. I wasted the remainder of my life searching in vain. I know he's hiding out there somewhere, the Fire Nation's greatest threat, the last airbender.
Sozin sounded just like Zuko, at the time when he was banished and searching fruitlessly. But he had done things that Sozin never accomplished: he had found the Avatar, seen him in person multiple times, fought him, captured him, even worked alongside him in extenuating circumstances …
Zuko shook his head, trying to clear his mind as he turned the scroll; but the parchment was at its end, and only the wooden roll was left. He frowned, disappointed and confused. "That can't be it. Where's the rest of it?" It seemed that there was no rest, except for what Azula had said about Sozin, that he died of old age.
What was Iroh playing at?
Before dawn broke, Zuko went to the prison and confronted Iroh, who, as usual, sat facing away from him. "I found the secret history—which, by the way, should be renamed 'the history most people already know'! The note said that I needed to know about my great-grandfather's death, but he was still alive in the end."
Iroh finally looked up at him, and spoke to him for the first time in months. "No … he wasn't."
"What are you talking about?"
"You have more than one great-grandfather, Prince Zuko," Iroh informed him solemnly. "Sozin was your father's grandfather. Your mother's grandfather was Avatar Roku."
Zuko's eyes widened; he was shocked, but that didn't erase the anger; if anything it rekindled it, swirling the coals that were already smoldering.
He had been to the Temple of Avatar Roku. Was this the reason why he had survived and escaped when Roku's spirit destroyed the temple? Had his great-grandfather been looking out for him, even in the guise of the current Avatar, Aang?
He didn't want a connection with the Avatar! He didn't need another reason to feel conflicted about how he regarded his enemies.
"Why are you telling me this?" Zuko demanded.
"Because understanding the struggle between your two great-grandfathers can help you better understand the battle within yourself."
Zuko sat down on the stone floor, holding his head in his hands. Iroh continued, and his gentle lecturing tone was just as it had always been when he offered advice in the past. "Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko. It is your nature, your legacy. … But, there is a bright side."
Zuko looked up; though still clearly angry, he was willing to listen now. Iroh's eyes were narrowed slightly, not in anger, but in determination. "What happened generations ago can be resolved now … by you. Because of your legacy, you alone can cleanse the sins of our family and the Fire Nation. Born in you, along with all this strife, is the power to restore balance to the world."
"I thought that was the Avatar's job," Zuko said without thinking. Then his eyes widened. Had he really just said that? That was the closest he'd ever come to real blasphemy against his country …
"It is," Iroh agreed. "And you know that the world needs balance—and lacks it now, more than ever before. But no one—not even the Avatar—can achieve it alone."
"What are you really saying?" Zuko asked, sounding desperate and almost plaintive. "What should I do?"
"Only you can decide that." Iroh stood and turned to the wall; Zuko thought he was shunning him again; but then he did something surprising: he removed a loose brick from the wall, and removed something hidden within the niche. Iroh turned back to him, unwrapping a small bundle as he approached the bars of his cell. "This is a royal artifact. It's supposed to be worn by the crown prince."
It was an ancient, metal hair ornament, with the silhouette of a flame on either side. Zuko had seen enough pictures and statues of Roku to recognize it as the one he'd worn in his life. He accepted it, slightly awed, as Iroh passed it through the bars. Zuko looked up at him again. "Was this yours? Or Lu Ten's?"
"No; your mother brought it with her when she married your father. It's yours now, if you'll have it."
Zuko looked at the hair ornament, as though weighing its significance in his mind. "I was never supposed to be the crown prince," he said morosely. He wanted to say more, but he couldn't form any words that wouldn't hurt Iroh emotionally.
Iroh was silent for a moment; Zuko was afraid that their conversation was over. But then his uncle spoke again. "Neither of us can change what has happened. But we do have some control over what will happen."
Zuko slipped the hair ornament into the sleeve of his robe. Then, without a word of thanks or farewell, he turned and left the prison cell.
Later, after the shock had worn off, it occurred to him that he acted a bit ungrateful. He had asked for advice. This must be Iroh's way of providing some. Only it wasn't really advice—just more information, which might be supposed to help, but at the same time served to make Zuko feel more conflicted.
He didn't want some grand legacy. Now, he just wanted to be a normal prince.
But, he had said that he wanted his destiny. And didn't he still want that?
What that means is up to you.
The desolate island was eerie at first sight, and even more so when Toph informed them that she felt an entire village underneath the hardened lava and ash.
None of the kids slept that night while Aang meditated. Katara told herself she had nothing to worry about this time—they were miles away from anyone who might want to hurt or capture him—but even so, she wanted to stay awake and alert while he was visiting the Spirit World, or wherever his spirit went while visiting Roku's past.
"Okay, this is kind of creeping me out," Toph said after a long while. She knew Aang meditated fairly often, but this time was different. It was like the difference between sensing someone who was lying down and someone who was asleep; only now, Aang's body as as good as asleep, but he still moved occasionally.
"Do they have bathrooms in the Spirit World?" Katara asked in a strained voice.
"As a matter of fact, they do not," Sokka said seriously.
Toph raised her eyebrows. "You speak as though from experience."
"Okay, see, I was the first of us to go to the Spirit World, only I couldn't really tell—but when I got out, it was like waking up after being asleep for two days."
After that they passed the time by telling Toph the story of Hei Bai, a spirit who had kidnapped humans out of anger for what people had done to his environment. Katara compared it to their adventure in a strangely spiritual Earth Kingdom swamp.
It was morning when Aang finally awoke from his trance. "It's about time!" Toph exclaimed.
Aang immediately defended Roku. "Hey, you try telling your life story in one night."
"So what did Roku tell you?" Sokka asked. "What did he want you to know?"
Aang proceeded to summarize the story that Roku had told him: that he had been childhood friends with Fire Lord Sozin, the man who started the war; that he had tried to convince the Fire Lord to give up his plans, but hadn't taken any real action to stop him (besides destroying the royal palace); and that in the end, Roku and Sozin had worked together on the very island on which they now stood. But when Roku faltered and needed help, Sozin had turned his back on the Avatar and left him to die in the volcanic eruption.
"That must have been the day I was born," Aang finished, sounding awed. The other three were similarly dumbfounded. They weren't sure which fact was more shocking: that the two men had been friends, or that the friends had turned against each other in such a terrible way.
Katara's voice rose as she spoke, incredulous. "You mean, after all Roku and Sozin went through together—even after Roku showed him mercy—Sozin betrayed him like that?" That struck a little too close to home for her.
"Maybe it runs in the family," Toph said dourly.
"No, that's wrong," Aang stated. "I don't think that was the point of what Roku showed me at all."
"Then what was the point?" Sokka asked, confused.
Aang smiled a little. "Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone's capable of great good, and great evil."
Sokka and Katara exchanged glances. A few months ago, Katara would have said that she already knew this; but now she didn't even know if it was true.
Aang was still talking. "Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation, have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance. And I also think it was about friendships."
Katara wasn't so sure. If anything, the story seemed to show that a person's own willpower—or lack thereof—could end even the strongest of friendships.
A memory stirred in her mind. "If you don't want to be—my girlfriend, or whatever, that's one thing. But I don't think I could stand to lose you as a friend."
But he had; and it was his fault more than hers. He had pushed her away, and there was no going back now. But she was alright with that, because she knew who her real friends were.
Toph's voice was quiet. "Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?"
The next thing she knew, Aang was holding her hand. "I don't see why not."
Sokka was finally able to obtain a better map—a whole atlas, in fact—thanks to Toph, who had started coming up with ideas for how to earn money on the sly. She and the boys had a lot of fun over the next several days, swindling wealthy townsfolk and outsmarting the cheats who ran games of chance.
This was one thing Aang loved about Toph: like him, she knew how to have fun. Not that Sokka and Katara weren't fun, but they were the leader and the caretaker, focused on long-term goals and everyday tasks.
Only Katara didn't participate in any of these schemes; and only she argued against them. After a few days, she'd had enough. "I think these scams have gone far enough."
"Okay," Sokka said soothingly, "I admit the getting-hit-by-a-cart trick was a bit low …"
"I don't want you doing anything else; not even cheating cheaters."
To her surprise, Sokka let out a laugh. "This from the girl who once stole a waterbending scroll from pirates," he remarked with a smirk.
"You're kidding," Toph said. When she realized he was serious, she was rather impressed. "I may have just reached a new level of respect for you."
Instead of being flattered, Katara was annoyed. "It means I can speak from experience: dishonesty has bad consequences. And don't you dare argue differently, Sokka," she said before he could make a sarcastic interjection. "I put all of us in danger, and we ended up getting separated. I never should have touched that scroll."
Aang glanced from Katara to Sokka, who looked just mildly surprised. It wasn't the first time Katara had expressed regret for taking the waterbending scroll—she had done that when they rescued her from Zuko's ship. But this was the first time she'd expressed any regret or contempt for what had happened as a result—what had happened while she was on Zuko's ship.
"I don't think I told you guys," Katara said suddenly. "But when I fought Zuko at the North Pole, he told me that Zhao had hired the pirates—the same ones I stole the scroll from, and who he tried to make a deal with—to assassinate him. They blew up his ship, and almost killed Zuko too. That was even worse than what happened to us."
There was a short, somber silence after this revelation.
"Well, now, there's no one out to get us," Toph pointed out.
"Maybe no one's actively looking for us, but if anyone finds out who we are, we could get arrested, imprisoned, kidnapped …"
"Could you for once stop being such a sourpuss and just lighten up?" Toph complained.
That touched an nerve. "Oh, I'm sorry. You think I should be more like you, like some wild child?"
"Yeah, maybe. Maybe then, you'd see how great we have it. I mean look at us. We're traveling around the world, making easy money, having fun, with no parents to tell us what to do."
Katara looked at her. "Ah, I see," she said slowly, sensing a sore spot. "You're acting like this because of your parents. They were controlling over you, so you ran away, and now you act like your parents don't exist. You act like you hate them, but you don't. You just feel guilty."
"I do hate them!" Toph said adamantly.
"I don't think so. I think you miss them. But you just don't want to deal with that, so instead, you act like this crazy person."
Toph stood up. "Look! I ran away to help Aang." That had been her main reason for leaving, in addition to wanting her freedom, she wanted to hold on to the one friendship that she had at the time.
"You know what? It doesn't matter. We have enough money, so you can stop putting us at risk with these scams."
"I'll stop when I want to stop, and not when you tell me!" Toph snapped, before stalking away. She plopped down on the ground and bend her signature earth tent around herself, effectively shutting out her friends.
Sokka stood up. "Speaking of money, I'm off to spend some. I mean, now that we have it, it'd be a waste not to use it."
Katara huffed. "You're just as bad as she is." She turned and walked away in the direction opposite to the one Toph had gone in.
Sokka watched her leave, and then looked to Aang, who was still sitting where he'd remained during most of the conversation. "Aang, can you talk to Toph?"
"W-why me?"
Sokka shrugged. "You're the same age, and you seem to be closest to her. Just try to get her and Katara to quit arguing. Otherwise, they'll start to take it out on us." With that he left the camp, heading back in the direction of the town.
Aang spent a few minutes thinking over what to say to Toph. He thought about the things that Katara and Toph's argument had reminded him of, and the things that he and Toph hadn't gotten around to talking about yet.
Aang knocked his fist against the earthen wall, with just enough force for Toph to feel. "Can I come in? Or will you come out and talk to me?" He faltered for a moment; then, remembering the first time they were able to have a private conversation, he added softly, "I like it when we're able to talk."
After a moment, the earth walls came down. Toph remained where she was, sitting cross-legged on the ground. "Okay, you win. So talk."
Aang scratched his head. "Katara once told me it was okay to miss Appa. So I think she'd agree when I say … it's okay to miss your parents." He sat down next to Toph. "I grew up with monks and nuns. They didn't have any sense of family units. We were just big communities. But, I still miss them."
His eyes flickered to Toph, but she remained stubbornly silent. Aang tried again, from a slightly different approach. "You know something we have in common? I ran away from home, too."
Toph frowned. She remembered Aang mentioning something about that, when she caught him leaving the captured ship. This isn't the first time I've run away.
Aang sat down next to her. He took a deep breath before he started; Toph deduced this must be a painful subject for him, just as her parents were for her. "Our situations were actually kind of similar. Everyone had certain expectations for me, because I was—am—the Avatar. I wasn't supposed to know until I was sixteen. But I guess the Fire Nation was getting ready for war; and so the elders told me, because they said they needed me to be the Avatar.
"I was really close to one monk, Gyatso. He was my guardian, and my main teacher. We did lots of fun stuff together—like airbend fruit pies onto the other elders while they were meditating."
Toph let out an appreciative laugh.
"Anyway, the other monks were concerned that Gyatso wasn't having me focus enough on my training. I overheard them saying that we had to be separated, and that I'd be sent to the Eastern Air Temple to complete my training."
"Seriously? That stinks." Toph thought that was just like how her father had decided to put even stricter rules in place after finding out the truth about her Blind Bandit escapades.
"I was afraid and confused. … I didn't know what to do. That night, I took Appa and ran away."
Toph frowned in confusion. Wasn't his point that he didn't want to leave the Southern Air Temple?
"I'm a nomad; I'm used to traveling, just not by myself. We ended up getting caught in a storm, out over the ocean. At some point we went under the waves …" He trailed off, struggling to remember exactly what had happened. "I think our being in danger triggered the Avatar State. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in Katara's arms."
Toph was a little bit startled, hearing that phrase. "Um … I'm afraid to ask …"
"Katara and Sokka found Appa and me, frozen in an iceberg. I had been in the Avatar State. I stayed there, not aging, not even aware of time passing." Aang took a deep breath. "That's why I was missing for the hundred years since the war started. Because I ran away."
Toph didn't like hearing Aang sound so self-incriminating. "But you came back," she pointed out. "And now you're doing everything you can to set things right."
"Yeah, I know. At least that's what I'm trying to do. But I am responsible for the death of my people. And I'll never be able to apologize to Gyatso or the other Air Nomads for running away." He looked over at Toph now. "It's too late for me. But you still have a chance."
Toph didn't answer. She was deep in thought, her eyes fixed on nothing.
She remembered arguing with Aang in the Serpent's Pass, when he was avoiding the topic of losing Appa. I thought I was being strong, but really I was just running away from my feelings.
Aang and Toph were both runaways. They had left their homes because they wanted to be themselves, not what others expected them to be. But while Aang had run away to escape his destiny, Toph ran away to find hers.
They were still running, even now.
Toph didn't apologize for doing her scams, but afterwards she didn't ask the boys to accompany her in any more hoaxes. She kept her word, and stopped when she wanted to. Neither she nor Katara mentioned the subject again.
When Sokka returned to the camp, he had a new purchase with him: a red-feathered messenger hawk. Though Katara was incredulous, Sokka was rather proud. "Now we can send messages all over the world, even to Gran-Gran."
Toph thought of someone she could write to, but she didn't mention it right away; if she mentioned it in front of Katara, the older girl would realize that she'd been right, and Toph wasn't about to admit that. Instead she waited until later in the day, and sought Aang out.
"Can you help me with something?"
Aang airbended himself to his feet. "Another swimming lesson?" he asked excitedly.
"No. I need you to write some things down for me. I want to send a letter to my parents."
Aang looked at her, and smiled. "Sure thing." He got some paper and a rough charcoal pencil from among Sokka's invasion plan materials.
"Okay, ready," he said, poised to write.
Dear Mom and Dad,
My friend is writing this down for me as I tell him what I want to say. I know you must be surprised to get a letter from me, after all these months. Looking back, I wish I'd written sooner.
I can't tell you everything that's going on with me, in case this letter is intercepted. I will say that I've had a lot of adventures—some good, some bad. My friends and I discovered a long-lost spirit library, crossed the dangerous Serpent's Pass, visited Ba Sing Se, and even met the Earth King. Not to mention we've gotten into plenty of scrapes with enemy soldiers and benders. I've gotten to be good friends with the kids I'm traveling with, and I've met lots of people along the way.
Toph paused, and Aang waited patiently until she started again. "I had my doubts when we started, but my pupil has turned out to be a fantastic bender. I hope you'll be able to see him again someday, and that when you do, you'll all get along."
Aang looked at her in surprise. "Do you mean that?"
"Pay attention, Twinkle Toes."
"Sorry." Aang turned back to taking down her words.
I've also improved my own bending. When we traveled to Ba Sing Se, Xu Fin and Master Yu forged a letter from you, Mom, saying that you were in the city and wanted to see me. I wanted to see you, too, so I went to the address on the letter, but of course you weren't there. Xu Fin and Yu trapped me in a metal cage; but—I swear on the family name that I'm not making this up—I escaped by figuring out how to bend metal. I'm the only earthbender capable of doing that.
There's something else I want you to know. I wasn't kidnapped—I ran away. I tried not to think about it, but now I realize it was selfish and I must have hurt you when I left. I'm sorry. I was frustrated and resentful, and I wanted to do more than stay shut up in a house for my whole life. I saw it as a now-or-never situation, since our visitors were leaving that night. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I'm not sorry joined them. I'm happy, and I'm doing important work. My friends and I have a plan, and if it works, I may be able to come home in a matter of months.
I probably won't be able to write to you again—we're using a messenger hawk, and they're kind of hard to come by. I just wanted to let you know that I'm all right.
I love you.
Sincerely, Toph
To add some authenticity, Toph squished some mud between her fingers and pressed her thumb against the paper, leaving a print next to her name. Then Aang rolled up the letter and put it in the container strapped to Hawky's back. The messenger bird let each of the preteens pet him, and then Aang released him into the sky.
As he watched the bird fly away in the direction of the Earth Kingdom, Aang voiced a question. "Did you mean that, about going home after the war?"
Toph shrugged. "I don't know … maybe, at some point. By then they'll probably have noticed that they can't control what I do. It's up to me how long I stay with them."
"Would you stay with them—for good?"
"I seriously doubt it," Toph said frankly. "I've seen too much, done too much. Besides, I don't want to leave you guys for a while yet."
Aang felt a little more relieved by that. He knew it might be a little selfish, but he didn't want Toph to leave.
If it were up to me, I'd want you with me.
At the next place where they made camp, in the woods near a different town, they had a surprise visitor, who introduced herself as Hama. Sokka was wary of the way she showed up at their campsite, but the old woman offered them food and a place at her inn, which would be safer than camping out in the eerie woods. He wasn't going to argue against an offer like that.
Still, he stayed suspicious of Hama, to the point that he tried searching her house. When they were caught, Hama calmly told them the truth: she was from the Southern Water Tribe, just like Sokka and Katara. Not only that, she was the only remaining waterbender of the generation before them. Katara was understandably thrilled to meet another waterbender from her own tribe, and even more eager when Hama offered to teach her what she knew.
It was like a glimpse into a life that had been stolen from them: if the Fire Nation hadn't captured Hama and the other waterbenders, Katara might have grown up under her tutelage.
With the mystery of Hama apparently solved, Sokka turned his attention to the mystery of the disappearing townsfolk. Toph and Aang joined him in searching for clues; it was part of Aang's responsibility, anyway, to investigate any problems that could involve spirits. At first he thought it could be due to a problem with the environment, like how the Fire Nation had burned down the forest where Hei Bei lived; but this island was lush and healthy in vegetation, and had beautiful mountains and valleys as well.
At one point they passed a field that Hama and Katara had visited earlier, as they deduced from the ring of plants black from losing their water. Aang spoke up. "Hey Toph, look at this."
"Well, I wish I could," Toph mused.
"Sorry—here, feel. And smell, too." He held it out, and she felt it: something like a thin layer of rubbery material.
"It's … some kind of flower."
"It's a fire lily," Aang clarified. "They only grow in the Fire Nation. I used to see them when I came to Fire Nation, before the war started."
"Nice." Toph tried to hand it back to him.
"You can keep it."
"Why? I can't—" Then she shut her mouth. If he was trying to be nice, she ought to shut up and accept it. But Aang had already realized his mistake: she couldn't really appreciate the flower, since she couldn't see it.
"You had gardens at your house," Aang remembered.
"Yeah, but there were always excuses for why I shouldn't go out there. When I did, it was usually to practice earthbending. I never really got the flowers." She might once have been curious about them, but her parents had told her not to touch them. Flowers were something you were supposed to see and smell, not feel. If you touched them, examined them too much, you could ruin them.
Aang wondered if love worked the same way, left better off at a distance than at direct contact.
Toph was fun; he could be natural and fool around, not just in front of her, but with her. She was rough-and-tough, and usually hid her emotions; but underneath that brusque, sassy attitude, she was sensitive and empathetic and sometimes kind of sweet. She could get defensive when she was angry, but she didn't hold grudges. She was realistic, spunky, independent, and fun.
And Aang knew she was liable to sock him if he made a real advance toward her. (The flower thing didn't count, since she hadn't caught on right away.)
He could imagine the insults and nicknames she'd throw at him—lovesick, lover boy, softie. She might never take him seriously again. And he needed her to take him seriously, if they were to continue working together as teammates.
Katara trusted Hama, enough to believe her reassurance that they would be all right if they went into the woods under the full moon, despite the rash of disappearances in those circumstances.
The old woman seemed almost otherworldly, standing under the moon's glow. "Can you feel the power the full moon brings?" She inhaled deeply, and flexed her arms. "For generations, it has blessed waterbenders with its glow, allowing us to do incredible things. I've never felt more alive."
Katara felt it, to, though she usually didn't exalt in it in such a way.
"What I'm about to show you, I discovered in that wretched Fire Nation prison. The guards were always careful to keep any water away from us. They piped in dry air, and had us suspended away from the ground. Before giving us any water, they would bind our hands and feet so we couldn't bend. Any sign of trouble was met with cruel retribution."
As Hama spoke, Katara remembered Zuko and Zhao mentioning prisons specially designed for waterbenders. She might have gone to such a place, if Zuko and Iroh hadn't defended her. If only it were as easy for her to feel gratitude toward the prince as it had been then …
Hama went on. "And yet, each month, I felt the full moon enriching me with its energy. There had to be something I could do to escape. Then I realized that where there is life, there is water." Katara knew that to be true; there was water in all living things; the fact that it was essential was what made it so sacred. But as Hama explained, she felt a chill hearing the context. "The rats that scurried across the floor of my cage were nothing more than skins filled with liquid. And I passed years developing the skills that would lead to my escape. Bloodbending. Controlling the water in another body. Enforcing your will over theirs."
Katara was horrified, and rightly so.
"Once I had mastered the rats, I was ready for the men; and during the next full moon, I walked free for the first time in decades—my cell unlocked by the very guards assigned to keep me in.
"Once you perfect this technique, you can control anything … or anyone."
Katara's voice was quiet and uneasy. "But—to reach inside someone and control them? I don't know if I want that kind of power." That was an understatement; she knew that she didn't want it. Though, on the other hand, it might have come in handy if she'd had that power in the past—like during the battle at the Spirit Oasis. There had even been a full moon that night; could she have stopped Zhao if she'd known of this ability?
"The choice is not yours," Hama stated. "The power exists … and it's your duty to use the gifts you've been given to win this war. Katara, they tried to wipe us out, our entire culture—your mother!"
"I know," Katara said somberly.
"Then you should understand what I'm talking about. We're the last waterbenders of the Southern Tribe. We have to fight these people whenever we can, wherever they are, with any means necessary!"
Wherever they are.
Suddenly it clicked in Katara's mind. The Fire Nation villagers had been disappearing during the full moon, when Hama was at the height of her power.
"It's you," Katara realized. "You're the one who's making people disappear during the full moons." Why hadn't she seen it sooner? But she knew why: she hadn't thought to suspect the kind yet mysterious innkeeper, even when she suggested training on this dangerous night.
"They threw me in prison to rot, along with my brothers and sisters. They deserve the same."
"How can you say that?" Katara demanded. "You're punishing civilians, not soldiers! How can you live among these people and not realize that they're innocent? Most of them have nothing to do with the war. And they can't control what the Fire Lord does. His government and military are to blame, not his people!"
"You don't know what you're saying. You've never been punished simply for being who you are. I thought you understood the way things are, Katara."
"I do understand," Katara stated defiantly. "I understand that war is more complicated than two sides fighting each other." She didn't elaborate because she knew it would sound idealistic: that there were good people who did bad things, and bad people who did good things. She had seen examples of this, in Shyu, Iroh, General Fong, Long Feng, and now in Hama. She had even seen it in Zuko, though she no longer knew what category she would put him in.
"You must carry on my work."
"I won't!" Katara was shouting now. "I won't use bloodbending, and I won't allow you to keep terrorizing this town!"
She shouldn't have said the last part. Suddenly, the technique that had a moment ago been part of a story, a mere possibility, became a physical reality: she felt her arm forced back; then her whole body seized up; then she was forced to her knees.
Katara briefly wondered if this was this how Zuko had felt, when he was forced to fight against his father.
But there was one difference between them: Katara wasn't so loyal to Hama that she refused to fight against her. She did come close to begging for mercy, but she had the willpower and found the strength to fight back.
"You aren't the only one who draws power from the moon. My bending is more powerful than yours, Hama. Your technique is useless on me!"
She bent water out of the grass, just as Hama had shown her earlier that day. They battled each other, a teacher against a student—not like Piandao and Sokka, but like Jeong Jeong and Zhao—the student using what he learned from the teacher, against the same teacher.
For a moment Katara believed she could win, without Hama getting what she wanted.
But then Sokka and Aang showed up, intending to help Katara, after learning the truth about the half-mad innkeeper. They didn't have the strength and power that Katara drew from the moon; they couldn't withstand Hama's bloodbending.
"Don't hurt your friends, Katara. And don't let them hurt each other!"
They were all surprised when the two boys stopped short, and Hama stopped moving of her own will. Even Katara was shocked at herself, as she felt her control over Hama's blood; but then she lowered her arms, accepting the power, and bringing the old woman onto her knees.
She realized, then, that she would do anything to save her friends. Even if it meant going against her morals, or hurting someone she'd once felt a bond with.
Toph showed up with the villagers, including those whom Hama had imprisoned over the past months, possibly even years. They put the old woman in chains again, and surprisingly, she didn't try to fight.
"My work is done." Hama cast a cruel smile over her shoulder. "Congratulations, Katara. You're a bloodbender." She laughed as they took her away, leaving the four teenagers in the forest.
Aang and Sokka looked to Katara in concern. Katara pressed her hand over her mouth, fighting the sick feeling in her stomach. Then she fell onto her knees and cried. Sokka knelt down next to her and hugged her, while Aang lay a hand on her shoulder, silently offering comfort.
Toph forced herself to wait a few minutes before speaking softly. "Aang? What happened?"
They didn't ask Katara that question; they deduced the truth from what the villagers had described, what Sokka and Aang had experienced, and what all of them had heard Hama say as she was led away.
Toph was unsurprised by the explanation for Hama's method of kidnapping the people she had found; but she was reasonably concerned when she heard that Hama had used the technique on Aang, Sokka, and Katara, who then used it to subdue her.
"I should have gotten there sooner," Toph murmured.
"No, Toph; I'm glad you weren't there to feel it." He closed his hand over hers; Toph didn't know whether it was a gesture of protection, or of mutual support. She didn't comment on it.
"Katara? It's okay," Sokka shushed.
All she said in response was, "I want to go." She wished she could say, I want to go home. But home was thousands of miles away. As Hama said, the war had torn apart their home.
But Sokka nodded and helped her stand. "We should leave." He didn't know what the townsfolk would do if they found out that Katara was a waterbender and, now, a bloodbender.
Katara took a final glance at the clearing where they had fought. The grass and a few trees were withered and black after having been drained of water. "I'll never bloodbend again," she vowed.
The phrase pulled at something in Aang's memory. I'll never firebend again. Katara had argued that he would have to, eventually. Guru Pathik had said that firebending was a part of himself that he had to accept. And now Katara had discovered a new form of bending that she was capable of performing, but was loathe to use.
It was the difference between having an ability, and choosing the way in which you used it. Wasn't the latter the thing that mattered?
For Katara's sake, he hoped that she would never have to use it again.
Author's Note: I was planning to leave out the events of "The Puppetmaster" because nothing about them was different. But then, I saw a YouTube video that SelinaTT made to the song "Just a Little Girl" by Trading Yesterday. It made a parallel of Zuko's Agni Kai with Ozai to Katara's water duel with Hama. Plus, it's such an important event for Katara's character, it seemed wrong not to include it.