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Chapter 6: Training
While Zuko and Aang kept working, Katara quietly slipped off to change back into her regular Water Tribe clothes. She clasped her mother's necklace back into place around her neck, and as she strapped the two water pouches she had used during the invasion to her back, she felt more battle ready somehow.
When she returned to the courtyard, Sokka was there, dressed in his wolf armor and looking excited—the training exercise was all ready to go.
"It's all about mindset," Sokka was saying as he marched them back through the groves of trees, using his sword to cut through any vegetation in their way. "A warrior's mindset. You just got to focus, Aang. Focus on the enemy in front of you, and nothing else."
"...Right," Aang said, looking away.
They were quiet most of the rest of the way. Zuko stared straight ahead, while Katara distracted herself with watching the landscape shift around them. Katara had assumed the entire island a tropical paradise, but as they went on, the terrain turned rocky, the vegetation sparse. Jagged cliffs jutted to the sky like bear-shark teeth.
At last they came to a stop where the others waited, at the base of a path that seemed to lead up to a cliff beyond.
It soon became apparent what Sokka had needed the big melon for—he went up to the top of the cliff and planted it on a wooden stake, set atop a pile of rocks with sticks jutting out from under a red cloth to vaguely pass for arms. Someone had carved the front of the melon to look like a face, with a sharp-toothed grin and sinister eyes, and even stuck a stick into the chin to pass for a beard. After a moment, he returned.
They all crowded around Sokka.
"In order to take out the Fire Lord—or in this case, the Melon Lord—our timing has to be perfect." He knelt down in the dirt, and with a stick, began to sketch out a plan of attack. "First, Suki and I will draw his fire. Then, Katara and Zuko charge in with some liquidy hot offense. And, while the Melon Lord is distracted, Aang swoops in and—bam! He delivers the final blow." Sokka drew a strike line through the place he had designated as the Melon Lord for emphasis.
"What about me?" Toph wanted to know.
"For now you're the Melon Lord's forces."
"So I get to chuck flaming rocks at all of you?"
Sokka shrugged. "Whatever makes the training feel more realistic."
Toph smirked. "Sweetness."
Katara wasn't exactly sure how this training would really do anything to help them or Aang—the Fire Lord was hardly going to be standing up on a cliff with his arms spread like a target. But, she supposed it was more about Aang's mindset, as Sokka had said. So Katara reluctantly made her way to the place Sokka had designated as where she and Zuko would wait. Katara also wasn't sure why she had been teamed up with Zuko—wouldn't it be better to have both a bender and nonbender on each team? But of course Sokka probably didn't want to be split from Suki.
As Katara knelt down amidst the rocks, hidden from view, Zuko took up a spot nearby. Katara stared out at the rocky expanse ahead of them, her shoulders tense, waiting for the signal.
"Katara?" Zuko said in low rasp, hesitant. "Can I... ask you something?"
"What?" Katara answered shortly, her eyes unmoving from the uneven stone path.
"Nothing," he said, glancing away. "Just—I couldn't help but notice—"
Though Katara kept her gaze on the upward path to the Melon Lord, where Toph had already moved into position and was laughing maniacally as she got into character, she could feel Zuko's gaze on her again.
His voice dropped as he went on, "I thought we were getting along now. Almost friends. But now you seem mad again."
"I'm not mad," Katara said stiffly. "I just didn't like how you were training Aang. That's it."
He shook his head. "It feels like more than that." He hesitated. "Is it because—"
A sharp hand gesture—Sokka's signal.
"Come on!" Katara hissed, and she charged out from behind the rock, Zuko hesitating only a moment before following.
Katara raced up a steep incline to higher ground, Zuko just behind her. To her left she saw Sokka and Suki tearing forward. Stone figures shaped to resemble Fire Nation soldiers erupted from the ground to block them, and Sokka neatly cleaved one in two, while Suki knocked another back with a hard kick.
Katara looked up in time to see a giant rock, its oil-slicked surface gleaming in the sun, flames blazing, hurtling toward them. She dodged to one side as Zuko sped to the other. The ground trembled beneath their feet as the stone struck, but neither of them slowed down as they rejoined, still focused on the target ahead.
The ground rumbled again, and Katara's eyes flicked sideways to see a series of figures converging on them in clouds of dust. They were suddenly surrounded.
These were the same figures Sokka and Suki had just fought, the shapes vaguely humanoid. Stone nubs jutted out for arms, with heads impressively detailed to resemble the haunting skulls of Fire Nation troops.
Katara drew the water from one of her pouches, her fingers automatically forming the movements to surge the water forward in a powerful slash.
Images flashed through her mind. A still form lying along a path. A woman sobbing softly in the rain.
Katara froze. She stared back at the vaguely human shape in front of her. Was this what they would be doing in the real battle? Cutting down Fire Nation soldiers, leaving their bodies strewn about in their wake?
Behind her, Katara heard the crack of rock breaking apart, and she turned in time to see Zuko blast off the heads of two soldiers at once with flames, then explode a third with a square hit to the chest.
"What are you doing?" he demanded, eyes half shooting back in her direction.
Before Katara could answer, she was distracted by a shout from Sokka. "Now, Aang!"
Katara's eyes rose to the sky, in time to see Aang shoot from his hiding place near the top of a cliff, launching himself off the edge. He arced upward with a surge of airbending, then descended, his monk clothes billowing around him, his staff raised over his head in an uncharacteristic show of violence. Straight toward the head of the enemy.
He seemed to hang in the air an eternity, and Katara watched, transfixed. For a wild moment, some part of her wanted to race forward, and turn his staff away. Another part of her kept her rooted in place, watching. Hoping, and dreading.
At the last possible instant, the staff stopped—barely an inch from the melon. Aang remained standing where he had landed for a moment, still as a statue. Then his eyes rose to stare at the melon, the crooked imitation of the face of his enemy, and at last he brought the end of the staff to settle against the ground, gently.
"What are you doing?" Zuko demanded, from where they had all come to crouch behind a nearby rock. "Take him out!"
Aang shook his head once. "I can't."
Katara watched him. Such a strange feeling was creeping over her. Almost like relief—yet not.
Katara expected Zuko to say something more, to go angry, aggressive firebending teacher again. But to everyone's surprise, it was suddenly Sokka stalking forward. He strode up to Aang, where he stood slumped in defeat.
"What's wrong with you?" Sokka accused, and for once there was not a trace of humor in his voice. "If this was the real deal, you'd be shot full of lightning right now."
Aang didn't meet Sokka's eyes. "I'm sorry. It just—didn't feel right. I didn't feel like myself."
Katara's stomach tightened, her fingers still on the mouth of one of her water pouches tightening convulsively.
Sokka didn't say anything funny, he didn't smile. Instead, he wordlessly drew his sword from its sheath, the black blade reflecting the dying sunlight. Then, in a single efficient stroke, he sliced the top of the melon's head off. It hit the ground with an unpleasant squelch.
"There," Sokka said coldly. "That's how you do it."
Katara turned her gaze away, squeezing her eyes closed, trying to shut out the sounds as Momo picked at the melon remains. The sound seemed to shift in her ears—a splash, a horrible gurgling…
"Are you okay?"
Katara turned to see Zuko was looking at her—Sokka was already stalking away, back down the rocky incline, with Suki hesitantly joining him. Toph had crumbled the remains of her rock soldiers in an irritable clench of the fist, grumbling at having her fun ruined. She was already halfway down the incline, following.
"Fine," Katara said curtly. Her eyes flickered back up, to where Aang still stood, looking small in front of the tall figure of the faux Fire Lord. She looked away, a bitter aftertaste she couldn't explain forming in her mouth—before she turned, walking back down the path, and away.
The trek back to the house was a quiet, solemn affair. Sokka would usually be cracking jokes, but he only glowered at the rocky path—he didn't even mention Katara's poor performance, if he had noticed it. The sun was beginning to set, and by the time they arrived back, it had vanished below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep purple-blue, like a giant bruise.
Katara didn't feel up to making anything, so she just threw things in a pot and handed it out cold. Nobody complained—even Sokka, who seemed to be coming back to himself by degrees. Suki had left a little earlier, maybe to get away from the tense atmosphere, muttering something about thinking she'd seen some nicer utensils somewhere upstairs.
Aang had gone to sit by himself some ways away from them, brooding. It was so unlike Aang that Katara wished she could go say something to him to fix it. However, that strange feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn't seem to go away. She kept picturing the moment when Aang descended through the sky, staff raised. And she couldn't decide what she felt.
I didn't feel like myself.
Katara gripped her bowl. She set it down beside her—it was bland and tasteless anyway.
"Hey."
Katara lifted her head, as did Sokka and Zuko. Toph kept eating.
"Hey, Suki," Sokka said. "You find what you were looking for?" His tone was deliberately light, evidently to prove his bad mood had passed.
Suki shook her head. "No, but I found something—interesting."
Sokka gave her a grin. "We can always use more interesting."
Katara noticed for the first time that Suki was clutching a scroll between her hands. It looked familiar, and she had a bad feeling about it—however, before she could say anything, Suki unfurled it dramatically, displaying the ink painting within.
Sokka snickered. "Is that you, Zuko?"
"Cute, wasn't he?" Suki said with a smile.
"What is it?" Toph asked, setting her bowl down. "Feels like an old scroll."
"It's a baby picture of Zuko," Sokka said. He shot a glance at Zuko, smirking. "Can you still smile like that, or is your face stuck now?"
Katara noticed that Aang had turned around from where he was sitting, and was watching them. Zuko was staring at the picture, good eye narrowed. Katara tried to figure out a way to signal him not to say anything, but—
"That's not me," Zuko said bluntly. "It's my father."
Suki blinked, then suddenly held the scroll away from her like it was a poisonous rat-snake. She turned it around and peeked at it again with morbid fascination. "But he looks so sweet and innocent."
Zuko shrugged stiffly. "Well, that sweet little kid grew up to be a monster, and the worst father in the history of fathers."
"But he's still a human being."
Aang's voice cut through the conversation. He hadn't moved from where he sat, his back to them, as all eyes moved to stare at him.
Katara slowly got up, deftly slipping the scroll from Suki's grasp, and rolling it back, getting the image out of sight.
"You're going to defend him?" Zuko said flatly.
Aang finally turned his head, glancing back toward them. "No, I agree with you. Fire Lord Ozai is a horrible person, and the world would probably be better off without him." He spoke in a monotone, like he was reciting some old piece of wisdom he'd learned by rote for a teacher.
He had climbed to his feet now, half turning. However, before he could meet anyone's eyes, his gaze dipped briefly, darting away toward a dark corner of the courtyard. "But… the monks always said that all life is sacred. It—goes against everything they ever taught. There has to be another way."
"There isn't," Zuko answered shortly.
Aang spun on him, mounting frustration in the set of his shoulders. "There has to be. Like—Like—" He waved his arms. "Like, we could get a giant pot of glue, and gluebend his arms and legs together so he can't bend anymore."
Sokka and Suki snickered behind their hands, while Zuko glared at him. "There's no clever tricks you can use to get out of this. You're the Avatar. It's your job to bring peace, and as long as my father is alive, there will never be peace."
Aang shook his head vigorously. "But it feels wrong. If I just go around wiping out people I don't like—what kind of Avatar will I be?"
Sokka opened his mouth to say something.
However, Katara found her feet moving. She stepped around the others, around Zuko, until she stood between them.
Her hands were clenched, trembling at her sides—but she forced control into her voice, trying to make it gentle, reasonable. "Aang," she began. "Zuko is right. Ozai is a monster—you know what he's going to do. If we—if you don't stop him, he'll burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground. He'll do to Suki and Toph's people exactly what they did to yours. How can you not care about that?"
Aang stared at her in shock and hurt, quickly replaced with anger. "I do care! It's all I can think about. I know I have to stop him—but it's not that easy." He turned away. "None of you understand the position I'm in. This isn't me. This isn't the Avatar I want to be."
Katara stared at the back of his head, the blue arrow tattoo. Something was ringing in her ears—like the harsh pounding of rain, a voice telling her to take his mother in payment. A man in armor of black and crimson, gazing at her with eyes harsh and cold and empty.
Katara exploded.
"He's evil! He's a monster, Aang! He's not a human being, he's a monster, and he—he deserved it!"
The courtyard was silent. She was sure they were all staring at her, but she couldn't see it as her eyes were suddenly swimming in something hot, burning. She blinked once, and the liquid spilled over, leaving icy trails in their wake.
Katara covered her mouth, an odd, strangled choking sound rising in her throat. Her eyes burned again, and she couldn't see.
At last she couldn't take anymore, and she turned, and fled, leaving them all to watch her go.
Katara sat on the beach in the shadow of a cliff, watching as the waves gently rose and fell against the sand. The night sky was dark but for the distant stars, the moon obscured by clouds.
"Here you are," came a voice behind her. "You... okay?"
Katara didn't turn to look at Sokka, where he stood just a little ways behind her. Instead, she sniffled once, before wiping at some of the crustiness that had formed along her eyelids, and glaring off down the beach.
"I wish people would stop asking me that," she muttered. She wanted to sound defiant, but instead her voice cracked a little.
"Well, maybe if you stopped acting like somebody about to lose it, they would," Sokka noted affably. He sighed deeply then, and sank down to sit beside Katara in the sand. He leaned back on his hands. After a pause, he said, "This is why I didn't want you to go."
Katara's mouth tightened. She gripped her knees, directing her gaze in the opposite direction, adjusting her legs to turn herself slightly more toward the side of the empty beach. "Did you just come to say I told you so?" she asked sullenly.
"For once, no," he answered.
"But you agree with Aang," she pressed, not looking at him. "You think it's wrong what I did."
Sokka shook his head. "No, I don't. You're right, that guy was a monster." He paused, then added, "But you feel bad about it. Maybe you shouldn't, but you do. Because you're you. Because even when you hate somebody, my little sister is too nice."
Katara had been ready to fight—she expected him to tell her she'd made a bad decision, that she needed to face up to it and apologize, and she had been ready to tell him why he was wrong, why he deserved to die. But his unusually kind words cut right through all remaining anger.
She'd thought she was dry of tears, but now they rose in her eyes again anyway.
In a low, quavering voice, she whispered, "He was—just an old man, living in some village. He was no match for me. He didn't even try to fight back. He just... begged me to spare him."
Katara didn't turn, didn't look to see how he was looking at her now. She gripped her knees, curling in on herself as though she could make herself small enough to simply vanish into the sand.
She whispered, "Am I... a horrible person?"
Silence, for a moment. Then Katara felt a hand on her shoulder, as Sokka pulled her into a rare hug.
"He attacked us first," he said in a measured voice. "I don't care about him, Katara. I care about you."
Katara turned into him, wrapping her arms around his back, burying her face in his chest. The tears fell down her face in streams, soaking his shirt. Her nose was running too—she wondered vaguely if he would complain about that later.
"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely. "About—about what I said. About you and Mom."
She felt him shrug a shoulder, his arm still around her. "It's okay. I know how you get when it comes to Mom. I just wish I..." But he seemed to reconsider what he was about to say.
Katara closed her eyes, and held on tight, clinging to his words. Even as confused images stabbed at her mind like daggers. An old, thin face tense and sick with terror. A woman in the rain stricken by grief. And Aang, staring back at her with wide, fearful gray eyes, afraid of what he would become, if he did the thing she had already done.
She thought about tomorrow. She decided she would make up with Aang then—really make up. She would tell him he had been right, that she wished she hadn't gone. That revenge was poison. He would smile sadly at the regret he wished he could have prevented, but he would forgive her. And she'd be to him the same person she had been before she'd left. Everything would go back to as it had been before.
Katara continued to cry silently into the night, as the dark waters lapped at the sand.
A/N: And, the tonal shift started last chapter continues.
Watching through all these episodes again just reminded me of how many powerful character moments there were in the show, especially as we raced toward the end. That Melon Lord scene—the perfect showcase of the Avatar series and its ability to go from hilarious to heavy and dark on a dime.
Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you in the next one!
Posted 10/11/22