195 th day of our journey and the first aboard a Fire Nation Ship.
Sokka's plan to commandeer the Fire Nation ship has been a success. The scout ship arrived yesterday morning. We saw it cruising around the wreckage of our fleet, carefully combing the area for any signs of survivors. At around midday they anchored their ship and sent a small party inland to check for survivors onshore. We had made sure to leave no sign – even Appa was well hidden to avoid them hearing him.
My father, Chief Hakoda, and a group of men from our tribe, trailed the Fire Nation soldiers, making note of their weapons and how many potential Firebenders were among the crew. When the enemy search party returned on board we saw a Messenger Hawk leave the ship – no doubt bearing news to the large fleet on its way to Ba Sing Se, that the Southern Water Tribe fleet had been destroyed and the men taken captive.
That evening, under cover of darkness, we attacked the Fire Nation Crew. It was easier than we expected – they were taken completely by surprise. Being a scoutship, the crew was small and there were no firebenders among them. Besides, we had several weapons of our own which helped tip the balance in our favour, not least of which the fact that Toph Bei Fong has learnt how to bend metal! As a metalbender, Toph was greatly useful in the great iron-and-steel ship.
As soon as all on board were made prisoners, Sokka figured our how to run the ship ( with some gentle persuasion, their engineer and navigator cooperated in teaching him and some of our men the basics of steering the ship) This was just as well, for we knew the Fire Nation Navy was only hours away from Chameleon Bay. To avoid them, we headed for the narrow isthmus between Chameleon Bay and the Eastern Lake to the south of Ba Sing Se. But there was something else we had to do before that: Once we left the fleet behind us it was time for a change of clothes. We stopped on a nearby island, stripped the prisoners of their uniforms, and the men of our tribe donned their helmets and robes, so that they looked no different from Fire Nation soldiers and our disguises would be complete.
With the Fire Nation Navy steaming its way behind us towards Chameleon Bay, Sokka suggested we head for the Serpent's Pass. From there we could cut across the Earth Kingdom and head West, thereby avoiding the Fire Nation Navy and gaining enough time to re-think our options.
Last night I had no time to write in this journal because I was with the rest of the men and Toph, to help in the capturing of that Fire Nation scout ship.
I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay by Aang's side... In all these days, I've never been away from him for longer than half-an-hour – I didn't know how long or how difficult this mission was going to be, but it would probably entail several hours. What if something happened to him then? What if I was captured or something by the Fire Nation? Who would heal Aang then?
Sinking our own fleet and transferring Aang ashore had been difficult, but next came the 'easy' part: sneaking aboard a Fire Nation ship in the dead of night. I started getting qualms about it as soon as our boats crept silently up to the towering iron hull. We were putting on face-masks imbued with a filter and sweet-smelling oils (Dad had loaded the men with some stinking Gas-bombs he had invented) and I hesitated in putting it on. I had left Aang completely helpless and unprotected back on shore, and the urge to run back to him was stronger than whatever logic my brain was trying to force upon me...
Surprisingly, it was Toph who pulled me up sharply to face the reality of the situation:
'Right now we need you here,' she said 'Aang will be fine, and if we pull this one off, he'll have a safe place to recover. If not, he'll soon have the entire Fire Nation navy eager to 'take care of him'. You gotta think more clearly!'
I gave her a scowl that she could not see, but knew she was right. I was NOT thinking clearly – my father's story about wrong decisions came back to me forcefully, and that tore my mind away from Aang for a moment.
And there was something else that was odd:
'Toph, why did you come? This ship's made of metal – you'll be at a disadvantage!'
'Not as much as you think,' she said, her voice muffled by her mask, and I saw her eyes crinkle up – she was grinning.
Just then, there was the metallic clunk of our roped grappling-irons hitting the deck as the men threw them up to the ship's railings. I hastily put on my mask, breathing in the pungent smell of herbs, and got ready to climb aboard. Now I was worried about Toph... I could remember only too clearly how helpless all the earthbenders were aboard the metal rig Haru's father had been imprisoned on. However, she seemed very confident, and when Toph is confident, it's both reassuring and contagious!
We expected a fight once we were on board, but instead we found a bunch of crewmen asleep with the remains of a huge feast in front of them. They hadn't even heard our grappling hooks and none of them were even wearing a uniform. They were quickly dealt with, and then Dad directed some of his men to the stern of vessel; some to the control room; and we were sent towards the bow. But the sleeping soldiers weren't the only ones on board and soon their watch spotted us, raising the alarm.
So okay, the fight took a minute to get started, but start it finally did. Thankfully, Toph had cleared my mind enough for me to fully concentrate on the task at hand – Aang needed this ship and I was going to get it for him!
That wasn't the only thing Toph did. I soon realised what she had been grinning about...
She could bend metal! Tearing off part of the railing just as though it were paper, she bent it round some Fire Nation soldiers, for all the world like she was tying them up with a silk ribbon!
Then there were more shouts and the sound of heavy-booted heels as more soldiers appeared from below deck, but our men threw the stink bombs and in the resultant confusion, as the soldiers coughed their way, teary-eyed, through the noxious fumes, they were easy pickings.
In less than an hour, we had them all trussed up with rope on the front deck, barring the Captain, Navigator and Engineer, whom Sokka wanted below decks for some quick lessons in ship-handling.
Followed by Toph, I hurriedly had a look around the ship and soon found the best room to transfer Aang in – the men's quarters were crowded and smelt stuffy; the hold was full of even smellier coal and oils, but the Captain's cabin was large and warm, with a wide bed and every convenience. I told Dad I needed it as a sickbay for Aang and then went ashore with the first boat to arrange for his transfer.
Thankfully, this time it went smoothly: the sea was calm and the Fire Nation ship has both a wide gangplank as well as several outer hatches, one of which was conveniently placed so that Aang's litter could be carried through with the minimal jostling.
Soon after I made sure Aang was fine and safely ensconced on the Captain's bed, the rest of the men came aboard with all the stuff from our camp, then I heard the great engines of the ship roar into life and we were on our way. Sokka flew over on Appa and settled the Bison in one corner of the main deck.
I think I fell asleep sometime before dawn in an awkward position at the foot of Aang's new bed. I had been afraid of another bleeding episode, but he seemed ok.
Earlier, while the Fire Nation scout ship prowled among the sorry carcasses of what had once been a proud fleet of Water Tribe ships, I spent my time trying to make some more progress on Aang's injuries, worrying about how we were going to pull the whole 'boatnapping' ( as Sokka called it) thing off; worrying how to get Aang on board without hurting him if we did manage; and worrying, also, about what Dad had told me.
I tried my best to ignore the latter, for it seemed to me then, that with an enemy ship anchored a short distance from where we were hiding, thinking about any potential future of my friendship with Aang, wasn't as important as actually surviving the coming confrontation !
Survive the confrontation we did, however, and now Aang can recover in a perfectly comfortable room, though my first night (or what was left of it) on board an enemy ship was not comfortable at all. However, not having slept well the previous night (actually it feels like I haven't slept well since forever!) and after the exertions of taking over the vessel, I must have dozed off.
I was woken up this morning by the early sun shining in through the porthole and Toph's banging at the door:
'Katara, you're needed on deck – ya have to change your clothes!'
And with that she was gone.
I got up, still befuddled with sleep. Surely I wasn't expected to wear a Fire Nation uniform now?! But up on deck I found the men systematically stripping the Fire Nation crew of their uniforms and helmets.
Toph rammed a helmet onto her head: 'How do I look?'
'An odd mixture of daunting and funny,' I said wryly, as I glanced over the side of the ship.
We were going through the narrow strait that led to the Eastern Lake, and the land moved fast on either side of us, as the Fire Nation ship sliced effortlessly through the waters with that kind of strange, even, movement typical of coal- and steam-fuelled ships. Unlike Southern Water Tribe vessels, which were at one with the waves and the wind, this ship did not depend on wind direction and speed, and even its motion was noticeably different, pushed forward by the steady thrum of its metal-engine heart.
'I can't hear a thing with this on my ears anyway!' Toph said, taking off her helmet and handing it to Pipsqueak, who rammed it on his head eagerly.
A few minutes later, we had stopped on a sandy beach where we deposited the Fire Nation crew and soldiers, (now dressed in nothing but their underwear), still tied securely to each other.
Toph and I had to content ourselves with a Fire Nation cloaks. Mine would, at least, cover up my obviously-blue water tribe robes as well as their now-tattered inelegance. Toph was too short to wear anything but a cloak, (though this did not bother the Duke, who is even shorter, and he's been strutting around all day in a much-too-large Fire Nation uniform). Pipsqueak, on the other hand, was hard put to find one that he could squeeze his great bulk into.
'This red tunic and the helmet'll have to do,' he said, discarding the smaller, grey undergarment.
'Looks like Fire Nation red is the new fashion this season' Toph remarked, with a wry grin. Then she wrinkled her nose in disgust 'This red smells odd...'
'Are you into smelling the color of clothes now?' I asked remembering how she could tell different-colored cosmetics from their smell.
But Toph was sniffing her cloak: 'Ugh! These clothes smell like ash!' she exclaimed 'Not fun. It's too strong and overpowers everything else!'
'Is that how you always guess it's me, even though I don't say a word?' The Duke looked genuinely intrigued.
'Nah ...I have other ways of finding out. Let's just say your vibrations and Pipsqueak's are different. But smell helps too: I can tell you've both been raiding the ship's galley – quite apart from the fact that I felt you down there - I can smell the Komodo chicken on you from miles away!'
'Toph, you're amazing!' The Duke shouted as he and Pipsqueak dissolved in loud, raucous laughter.
I could see that they had been well introduced: being both misfits and outlaws, the two ex-Freedom Fighters would get along just fine with Toph.
'I'm going back on board,' I said clutching my strange-smelling cloak around me. 'I don't think you need me here.'
'Not really - if anyone tries anything...' The Duke said, menacingly brandishing his club in the direction of the half-naked Fire Nation soldiers.
'I don't think they're dressed for it.' Sokka smirked, as he came up wearing a Fire Nation uniform.
I felt a bit uncomfortable watching my brother wear that hated uniform, but the feeling was nowhere as strong as it would've been months ago. Now I knew that behind that fearsome helmet, beneath that blood-red uniform that used to haunt my dreams, there were only men... men made of flesh and blood such as the ones huddled together right in front of me – looking, if anything, rather sheepish in their nakedness, and definitely not scary at all. I had long moved past that.
However, as I arrived back on board, an imposing figure of a helmeted Fire Nation soldier came towards me and I couldn't help a start of surprise as I saw the incongruous blue of my father's eyes peering out at me from beneath the Fire Nation helmet. He made as if to speak to me, but I turned away and hurried below deck to the Captains' room, to start a healing session for Aang.
As I wrote in the visible part of the journal, Sokka had suggested we cross to the Western Lake through the Serpent's Pass and from thence follow the wide river down to the Mo Ce Sea. Although we had left their Navy behind us , the Western Lake was still under Fire Nation control: the journey would not be without danger.
I concentrated on Aang, trying to forget the hurt look I had just seen in my father's eyes as snubbed him. I didn't mean to snub him, but I just don't want him to say anything else about what I should, or should not, be doing for the Avatar.
Still, even as I passed the glowing water around the wound on Aang's back, watching the outer edges of the wound knit together in healthy, pink, granulating tissue...I knew that my father's words would not go away...I had the uneasy feeling that my father had been right in all that he said, and even if I kept pushing all those thoughts out of my head – concentrating now on the one fact that mattered – keeping Aang alive - they would come back to haunt me as soon as this crisis was over...
'Dad's wrong, Aang …' I whispered to him as I worked, 'You'll prove him wrong! Being young has nothing to do with it, if your heart is in the right place... You'll be the greatest Avatar ever – I know you have it in you.'
I had always known Aang was special since the day I met him, but getting to know him over time I have seen not only his talent grow, but even his mind, for experience is a great teacher. And I was – and still am - firmly convinced that he is destined to be a great Avatar - greater than all the others because he's is so young! And we're there to help him achieve that. I'm going to do whatever it takes to prove to Dad – and the world - that Aang will make no mistakes!
A tiny voice at the back of my mind keeps plaintively reminding me, that only a week ago, that conviction had been not only shaken, but thoroughly destroyed. However, I'm getting better at ignoring that tiny voice in my head ...
'And you must help me too,' I chided him gently, speaking my thoughts out loud 'First of all by getting better. Please, Aang!'
It broke my heart to see him so helpless, so completely devoid of his characteristic boundless energy. With a sigh, I bended the healing water back into the bowl, taking on last look at the wound for signs of bleeding or infection or necrosis, but there were none, even though it was so deep. Perhaps my long hours with the healing water have served for something...
Then, when I placed my hand on his shoulder to gently roll him over onto his back, I noticed his skin was not cold to the touch – it wasn't exactly warm, but it was better, and as his face came into view, to my great astonishment he was smiling...
Smiling!
And mumbling something:
'Rebuild the whole temple, Roku?'
At least that's what I think that's what he said - it doesn't make any sense, but most dreams don't. (It may not even be a dream, after all, I don't know)
'Aang! Aang! Can you hear me?'
Seeing Aang smile felt like seeing the first ray of sunshine after the winter-long night of the tundra. I didn't understand his odd words, but Aang's fleeting expression of good humour, his smile, were so endearingly familiar, that he felt closer, somehow, than he has felt for the past week. I suppose, after so much doom and gloom, seeing something so incongruous, but so delightful, as a smile, made it doubly precious. Mere seconds later, he had fallen back into deep unconsciousness again, and the momentary warmth, the fleetingly normal heartbeat and breathing, slowed down once more to their sub-human levels.
Still – I had to take that as a sign of improvement, a brief return to a dream-like state...it had to be a good sign. I moved to sit at his head and, bending some water onto my hands, I passed it soothingly along his temples, like I had done with Jet. Perhaps it would help somehow... His eyelids were still once more: there was no trembling movement such as there would be when someone is dreaming, or about to wake up, yet I passed the water in gentle, circular movements on his temples and especially his forehead, along the path of the arrow that signals the Chi pathway, as well as his status as Master Airbender. The tattoo is partially obscured now with a very short stubble of dark hair, but beneath, I could sense the pulsating Chi Force – even in Aang's comatose condition it was strong –
I can only imagine what it must feel like when he is in full possession of his senses...
Hopefully, that day may not be too long away…
199 th day of our journey. Eastern Lake.
We have moved to the south-eastern part of the Eastern Lake, well away from the main shipping routes of Full Moon Bay. Soon we will sail towards the Serpent's Pass and then to the mouth of the great river that joins the Western lake to the Mo Ce sea. We have not met any ships – only a few lone Earth Kingdom fishermen, who took one look at us and hurriedly disappeared into the early morning mist.
Life on board is finally resolving into some form of routine. The running of a coal-powered Fire Nation ship is not what the men of my Tribe are used to, for it works far more differently than a ship powered by wind and ocean currents. Still, my brother and some of the other men have risen to the challenge and ironed out all the mechanical problems. This is why we have remained in the Eastern Lake where we can hide easier.
Once we get to the Western lake, we will be more likely to be sighted by other Fire Nation ships – and we need to know how to manoeuvre this vessel should the case arise for a quick getaway.
The Avatar's is still unconscious, but at least there have been no more bleeding episodes and his wounds are definitely much better now.
Not only much better, but in these last few days, he's had another two of those episodes wherein his level of consciousness rises to a dream-like state, rather than a coma-like one. During this time, I can see some expression on his face, rather than its usual deathly stillness. Once it was just a sigh, but today he murmured something I didn't quite catch, and I heard the words 'Dai Li' as his face briefly screwed up into a frown. Worried that his dreams may be nightmares, I hurriedly spent the next 15 minutes passing the Healing water on his temples – I have no idea if this has any effect at all, but I do it anyway, in the hope of clearing all thoughts of the Dai Li from his head.
'It's ok, Aang – the Dai Li are far away from here. That's all over now.' I spoke soothingly, for whatever it was worth. 'They betrayed their King and their country, and they're the worst of their kind – They deserve Azula!'
I forced myself to speak in a more even tone, for the thought of what those treacherous earthbenders did was enough to set my blood boiling. But even more than the Dai Li, recently it's the Fire Lord's son and daughter that are coming more often to mind. Sometimes, during the long quiet hours between healing sessions, or else when I lay awake at night, after re-living for the umpteenth time in my nightmares the horror of those moments, the memory of the cold, cruel look on Azula's face behind Aang's jerking, convulsing body, makes me feel sick! It has given rise to a core of cold fury, deep within me, that I'm finding harder and harder to push to the back of my mind!
'Anyway, don't you worry about the Dai Li– just focus on getting better...' I passed the glowing water once more from his temples in the direction the arrow tattooed on his forehead 'I just wish I knew what's going on with you, Aang – where are you? I thought you might be in the Spirit world, but there are no Dai Li there! What is it that you're seeing?'
But the brief dream-like state had already gone and I could see all expression leave his face, his breathing slow down to its usual impossible level...
I bended the water back in the bowl and passed my bare hand gently over his cold forehead – just because I believe that sometimes, the simple human touch is stronger than healing water...
His hair is longer now: a soft, downy growth, rather than a stubble, and it effectively hides most of his tattoo. Aang looks different... but the change being so gradual, I hardly noticed it. I have to consciously search for it, before I can see it.
But when I do, I kind of like what I see ….
I wish I could tell him that myself, just to see his reaction.
I suppose I would do anything to get a reaction from Aang – unlike his hair, I can't get used to his expressionless face – it's so unlike him to be so deathly still: Aang's face is usually so mobile, so enlivened by a myriad expressions, and, as an airbender, he is even more apt to move than anyone else.
However, I'm feeling more optimistic about his recovering... He has some cracked ribs, which should be healing faster, given how slow his breathing is, yet the bones are taking longer to knit together, as are some deep cuts and grazes sustained during the fight. The large wound on his back is healing slowly but nicely, and is the only outward sign of Azula's attack – that, and one other injury on the sole of his left foot where the blue lightening found the pathway out of his body. There were some horrible, branching red weals along his leg, forked like lightning itself, but I've healed those easily, and now only the large, blackened hole on his sole remains. It's much better than it was, but it'll make walking difficult should he get up...
He will get up - it's just that I don't know when. The improvements I've seen aren't really telling me anything about when he'll wake up, and I've been waiting and waiting and waiting ...The hours of the day, and even the night, seem longer than they have any right to be...
Aang gets many visitors every day – everyone wants to know how he is and when he'll wake up. Sometimes, it gets so frustrating, having to always repeat the same thing:-
"I don't know. I wish I did..."
I miss him too.
Today, I refused to let Sokka in – he's been working deep inside the ship's engine, and emerged covered in coal dust and stinking of that horrible Fire Nation oil used to ignite their fireballs. I've been battling infection and blood poisoning from Aang's wounds since day one and have been more or less lucky so far – I don't want to undo the good work with dirty Fire Nation engine-grime or whatever else Sokka has smeared on him!
However, my brother's as happy as a TigerSeal in a herring-shoal – he's figured out the mechanics of the ship's innards, together with some like-minded guys from our tribe, and they say they can handle her in any weather and push her to the limit, should we need get away quickly.
Toph, Pipsqueak and the Duke come down to this room quite often too ( though Toph doesn't stay too long if there's a swell and the ship is rolling – she gets sea-sick and prefers the fresh air on deck) Those three are getting along famously – I think the outlaw reputation of the Freedom Fighters' past appeals to her ...
As for me... now that Aang seems to be out of the woods, I allow myself extended periods on deck to stretch my legs and rest my eyes from the flaming-red decor of the Captain's cabin. The deep blue of the lake and sky feel like a soothing balm to my eyes ...
I've slowly started to regain some of my old spirit, and I've started to notice things I previously had no time for:
Appa for one - I had barely spoken to him since we left Ba Sing Se, but now he's the first one I go and give a big hug to, whenever I'm on deck. He's well-looked after by the men, who feed him hay and some of the best vegetables from the galley. His Boar-q-pine wounds have healed completely and he's put on the weight he had lost, but though he rumbles excitedly whenever he sees me, his soft brown eyes always look past me expectantly, as though wondering why his master does not come to feed him himself.
It's so sad he had to be separated from Aang just less than a week after having been reunited... I tell him Aang is going to be fine, that I'm doing my best to see him on his feet again.
The Duke and Pipsqueak, who are surprisingly good at odd-jobs and crafting things from scratch, have been working on a new saddle for Appa ( perhaps at Toph's instigation - she hates riding bareback!). I guess living all those years in a forest has given them some unexpected wood-carving skills, and they've found wood a-plenty in the ship's hold, as well as during our brief night-stops near wooded parts of the lake. The men of our tribe have pitched in to help too, for Water-Tribe people are skilled craftsmen. Many times, when I go on deck, I find them all deep in wood shavings and raucous laughter.
Momo, of course, is always curled up by Aang's side. He only leaves to scavenge some fruit from the galley or catch the nocturnal bugs as they flit around the lanterns at night.
Another thing I've noticed on my excursions to the upper deck are the men of my tribe: all the crews of our scuttled Water Tribe fleet have all managed to squeeze into the crew's quarters of this Fire Nation ship. It's a bit uncomfortable, but none grumble, for after all, this ship is larger than a Water Tribe one. The youngest of the warriors, who were barely 16 when they left, are young men now – weather beaten and battle-hardened, and the older men have gained a few more wrinkles and scars – some of them quite severe scars, like Bato's. I knew them all so well before they left, and I never imagined my reunion with them would be so different from what I'd imagined – in fact, it was hardly a reunion at all, for my attention had been only on Aang, and I had barely noticed their presence.
Now, however, they come to speak to me. At first they came rather hesitantly... I suppose in those first distraught days of our escape from Chameleon Bay, I must've been rather terse with them ( and possibly downright horrible) being tired and worried and unreasonably angry with everyone including myself, but now that Aang is a bit better and I'm calmer, they approach me eagerly, wanting to know about their families...
This evening, Tutega's husband, Kulitak, and his son Manirak, came to speak to me as I rested on the railings of the ship.
'Is it true, Katara? Did Tutega have a baby?' he asked me, his weather-beaten face anxious and eager at the same time. 'Your brother has just mentioned it in passing...'
'Mentionned it in passing!? I swear, Sokka's so ...!'
But Kulitak's anxious look stopped me. 'Yes, she did. A beautiful baby boy, Kulitak. They were both doing fine when I left the South Pole.'
Kutilak passed a shaking hand over his eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief.
'We never knew,' Manirak explained 'We knew Mum and my sister had to travel to your village as soon as the weather permitted, for safety. Wow! A baby brother to teach spear-hunting to! That's great news!'
Manirak was one of the youngest of my father's men. Their family used to eke out a living on a remote outpost, hunting Tiger Seals, and Kulitak and Manirak only joined my father's fleet relatively recently, which is why Kulitak never knew about his wife's pregnancy. Trust Sokka not to tell them about it! Well, I suppose I should have been the one to tell them, since I had helped Gran Gran deliver the baby, but it was one of the many things that had been completely driven from my mind these past week-and-a-half.
'Your sister, little Iluak, is really pleased with her new baby brother, and last I saw them she was helping your Mum rock him to sleep. I'm sure they're fine.'
'Iluak must be close to her seventh year now,' Kulitak said, wistfully 'how time flies. What did Tutega name our little boy?'
'I'm afraid I don't know. I helped Gran Gran deliver the baby, but we left the South Pole soon after, to follow the Avatar, and Tutega still hadn't decided.'
I did not tell them how Tutega had cried so despairingly when her newborn was placed in her arms, believing the child would grow up fatherless. I remember I had rebelled against that defeatist talk, shouting rudely at both her and Gran Gran, accusing them of having lost hope ...
That birth was one of the first events I had recorded in my mother's old scroll….
It feels like I have aged a hundred years since then, and, although hope is still alive within me, it has suffered such a battering as I could never have thought possible, and I can understand Tutega's grief in a way that I couldn't then...
Kulitak and Manirak aren't the only ones to ask me for news about their families. I do the best I can to provide more details to the bare, dry answers Sokka has provided them with. The men want to know far more about their wives and their children than they would normally have done had they never left, and I find myself giving details about a toddler's first lisped word, a child's first lost tooth, the braiding of a wife's hair ...
In a bittersweet kind of way, it warms my heart to see the men missing their wives and children so much, because I know that their wives certainly miss their husbands, - I've lived through two years of hearing them talk about their them, idolising them in their absence, and elevating them to quasi-heroic figures spoken of with keen pride, but even keener nostalgia and sadness...
On the other hand, the young unmarried men, unsurprisingly, want details about the young unmarried women of our tribe ('Does she ever mention me? Does she still sing the Ocean Song beautifully? Does she still smell of the snowdrop moss?) I've suddenly become quite knowledgeable on who liked who before the men left the village – not that there's much to be confused about, given the small number of single people left.
In fact, none of the young, unmarried men of our tribe are too glad to hear the news of Pakku's intention to build up the Southern Water Tribe – I guess they will have to face some stiff competition from young Northern Water Tribe men when they get back to the South Pole! Of course, Pakku brought with him some young unmarried women from the Northern Water Tribe too, so I guess that must be some consolation…
One of these young, unmarried women was also called Iluak. A young guy from the Northern Water Tribe, Onartak, used to flirt outrageously with her during the voyage, and I thought they'd become a couple until they quarrelled over something stupid, and were thus forced into an awkward, uncomfortable situation in the close confines of Pakku's ship.
I wonder if Onartak and Iluak ever made up their quarrel? Perhaps they'll form other ties, other relationships, once at the South Pole. They must, if they want to re-build our Tribe.
Old Akycha has no such ties. Yesterday, I saw him leaning on the railings of the bowsprit, gazing wistfully into the distance, towards Chameleon Bay.
'What are you thinking of, Akycha?' I asked, noting his sad expression.
Of all the men in the tribe, Akycha is one of the oldest, and his wife passed on decades ago. His sons disappeared in their youth, during a Fire Nation raid. He has no-one at home to miss, except home itself.
'Good evening, young waterbender.'
Old Akycha has been addressing me this way – and always with a touch of pride - ever since he saw me waterbending huge waves to sink our fleet and then fight alongside the rest of our warriors when we captured this ship. It used to be only 'Katara' back in the South Pole, and he, like most of the other men in our tribe, used to regard me as someone in a precarious position, someone whose waterbending meant she had to be protected and sheltered, rather than the other way around.
My brother used to be treated ( sometimes jocularly) as a warrior-in-training by the other men, but there was always a certain degree of respect for Sokka, both because his efforts in training, despite his age, were outstanding, but also because he was Chief Hakoda's son, and nothing less was expected of him. I, however, was the one everyone worried about – both because no-one understood waterbending and also because I was a liability for the Tribe, hence I was treated very differently from my brother, and rather than being 'Chief Hakoda's daughter', I was 'Katara, the waterbender'; the last two words whispered in hushed, anxious voices.
It was a long time before I figured it was something I should be proud of.
It was Gran Gran and my Mom who made me see it that way, because I got a mixed message from the rest of the village about my waterbending skills ( or lack of them). The old scrolls about our Tribe's heritage ( or what was left of them after the raids) were a great help too – I read those stories voraciously as soon as I had learnt to read. Perhaps part of my love for reading and writing stems from the fact that those scrolls, as well as Gran Gran and Mom's encouraging words, opened my eyes to the possibilities of waterbending.
Though none said so openly, many of my Tribe would've been glad if I WASN'T a waterbender, and thus liable to attract unwanted Fire Nation attention.
To my infinite regret, they were right.
Now, however, some of those same men, like Akycha, who were so wary when I was just an untrained waterbending child, have completely changed their tune – they've seen me destroy a fleet in a matter of minutes as well as fight Fire Nation soldiers and their respect for me and my waterbending has grown to what a Master Waterbender should expect.
It's a small consolation in these troubled times, and had my heart not been bound to sadder events, I would have been jubilant to gain such recognition among my own people.
'My old ship,' Akycha said.
I tore my eyes away from the distant horizon and my distracted thoughts, to realise the old warrior had been answering my question.
'Your ship?'
'Aye, I built her with my own two hands when I was still a strapping young man,' Akycha sighed. His wrinkled face, turned brown and leathery by a thousand storms and what seemed like just as many midnight suns, turned towards me, 'Many and many an Ocean mile have I weathered in that ship, not to mention the enemy's Fire and the sky's fury ... I thought she would never sink ...'
'I'm - I'm sorry, Akycha. I hate to have been the one to do that.'
'Nah – you did what you had to, young waterbender. We all did.' Akycha's gaze turned once more in the direction of Chameleon Bay, where our fleet had been scuttled and sunk. 'Besides, the Ocean floor is a fitting place for her to rest. It's just that, with my family all gone ... so many years ago, now... it would've been nice to rest on the ocean floor with my ship, in the traditional ways of our people. That can never be now...'
I said nothing. I couldn't. I felt a lump in my throat and the prickling of tears behind my eyes (I can't understand why I cry so easily nowadays – I suppose I'm still more fragile than I care to admit), for Akycha's mention of Water Tribe funeral-ships was a painful topic.
'Oh – don't fret on account of an old ship and an even older sailor, Katara,' Akycha was saying, as soon as he turned round and saw my face 'It was my choice, too, and I wouldn't have it any other way: you are the living, breathing future of the Southern Water Tribe, just as the Avatar is for the rest of the world – I'm proud that this old carcass and that of my ship have been of help. It is but a small sacrifice compared to yours and that of the young Airbender... how is he today?'
Akycha's blue eyes peered at me anxiously from beneath bushy white brows. His hair was white and long, his beard straggly, and hanging off his face like hoar frost off a ship's rigging, but his voice was warm and sincere.
'Aang's doing well, Akycha. There has been no more bleeding and most of his external wounds, and, as far as I can feel, even internal, are healing well.'
Akycha nodded. 'Then he will rise up again and defeat the world. "He who is destined to die by water will not die by ice"' he said, quoting an old saying among our people 'The Avatar is younger than I ever imagined he could be, but he's not defeated. He will rise again, Katara, he will rise again...' and old warrior resumed his position at the bowsprit, gazing at the last resting place of his old ship.
I have been thinking a lot about Akycha's simple faith in the Avatar. So many of the older generation have this simple belief, for they're old enough to remember when people spoke about Aang's predecessor, Roku, and of his feats, as something contemporary. But for many of the younger generation, the Avatar is, or was, just a legend.
Aang has changed all that, and his fame has spread throughout the world, making people sit up and listen!
But now...
Now, I don't know what the world at large is thinking. Certainly the news of the fall of Ba Sing Se must have reached the four corners of the globe and Azula must be singing her own praises far and wide! As though shooting someone in the back can be something to be proud of!
Yet the world doesn't know that. The world doesn't know what happened in the Crystal Catacombs...
Aang's still in deep unconsciousness and needs to heal himself, yet he carries the burden of the world's hopes and fear on his scarred back... It seems unfair that so much should depend on someone so vulnerable and weak. I almost feel ashamed for wishing him better. If only it could be as simple as wishing he were better for his own sake only, and not for saving the world...
Selfish though it may sound, I wish Aang better for his own sake and not for that of the world... I know the incontrovertible truth is that Aang's destiny is to save the world, but right now, I don't think I could make the right decision if I had choose...
I see echoes of my father's story in that last statement, but I don't want to take it back: I want Aang to recover because he deserves to. And because I need him to.
