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Chapter 8: The Old Masters
Katara remained at the front of the saddle, staring ahead at the dark horizon. Trying to figure out where they could possibly be going.
However, she could make out little under the dark, gauzy night sky at a distance, and so it wasn't until Appa began to descend that finally her eyes found the outline of a giant, massive wall.
"Ba Sing Se?" she asked, as Appa landed on the ground behind June with a heavy thump.
Katara looked up to see a rather sizable gap in the wall, with debris scattered at its base. She wondered when it had been made, how and why. It was only the Outer Wall, which led to vast tracts of farmland, not the Inner Wall which contained the city—but still a major security breach. And yet, the edges of the hole were almost smooth as though worn down by time and weather, years of greenery grown up over the loose rock.
"Looks like it," Zuko said. "But why would my uncle be here?"
The shirshu had stopped at the debris, and was pawing furiously. "He's somewhere beyond the wall," June said, turning back to them. "Nyla's getting twitchy so he can't be too far. Good luck."
With that, she snapped her reins, and took back off into the night.
Zuko grimaced as he watched her go, as though wanting to keep her there until they could be sure they had found his uncle—but she was already tearing away across the sparse landscape, and Katara had the impression that June had already done far more for them than she normally ever would without any gold to show for it. No one suggested going after her.
Katara was exhausted—both in body and spirit. So she was relieved when Zuko said, "It's been a long day. Let's camp and start our search again at dawn." The comet was coming, and they didn't have any time to waste—but they would need their rest for the coming battle.
There were only a few hours left until morning, so they didn't bother setting up the tents. Instead, everyone except Toph picked a place on Appa's soft fur. Suki and Sokka took Appa's tail, while Katara took one of Appa's legs, Zuko taking another next to her.
Toph had already leaped down from the saddle, and made herself one of her earth tents. She was always more comfortable closer to the ground.
Katara's eyelids were heavy as the broken stones around them—and it felt as though she had only been lying there a moment before consciousness left her.
Katara's eyes snapped open. She sat bolt upright in the darkness, panting for breath. For a moment, she couldn't place where she was and why—then her eyes fell on Zuko on Appa's next leg over, his back to her, and she remembered.
Aang was gone. The comet was coming.
Katara wiped the sweat from her forehead, though she felt chilled and clammy. She glanced down at Zuko again, and noticed he seemed unnaturally still—but then, maybe Fire Nation royals were trained to sleep that way.
As quietly as she could, Katara got up from Appa's fur, sliding to the ground. She wasn't exactly sure where she was going, but she just wanted to be up and moving. Anything but go back to sleep.
She'd had that dream again—the one in the rain, with the sorrowful woman who looked like Azula. This time Katara hadn't told the woman her son was a monster. She'd just stood there as the rain fell softly around her, watching the woman grieve.
"And where are you going, sweetness?"
Katara stopped. She glanced back to see Toph, who was laying on her stomach, head poking out of her earth tent. She looked half asleep, eyes half lidded, head propped up on one hand. She yawned widely.
Katara hesitated. "Um, I just needed to..." She gestured vaguely at some of the bushes a little distance off.
Toph shrugged a shoulder. "Oh, okay." She flopped back down, not bothering to return completely to the tent.
Katara didn't move, eyes on Toph's relaxed figure. Trying suddenly to think of something to say to keep the conversation going a few moments longer.
"Hey," Katara said at last. "Do you... think someone should stay up to keep a lookout? I mean, I know Ba Sing Se is a big city, but we are technically right next to a Fire Nation stronghold."
Toph's eyes remained closed as she answered. "I'm your lookout, I'll sense anyone coming."
"Oh... okay." Katara still didn't move. Just stood there—not sure what she expected or wanted. Maybe just not to be alone. Or to absorb some of Toph's carefree brashness, right now when she had rarely felt so worn.
At last, Toph gave a deep, irritable sigh, then said, "Twinkletoes will be fine. He can take care of himself."
Katara didn't speak immediately. When at last she did, a hint of defensiveness crept into her tone. "I know that."
"Except when you forget." Toph pointed an accusing finger at her. "That mom thing I told you before? You do that to everybody, Katara, but it's worst with Aang. He's tougher than you think. You don't need to baby him all the time."
Katara wanted to object. She already felt her fingers curling into fists at the suggestion that she didn't know how strong Aang was—however, as she opened her mouth, an old memory unexpectedly wafted through her thoughts. Something Toph had once said about her, when she hadn't known Katara was listening.
"The truth is, sometimes Katara does act motherly, but it's not always a bad thing. She's compassionate, and kind..."
That same uneasy feeling that never seemed to fully go away these days rose unexpectedly. Something inside her chest constricted.
Katara sank slowly to a crouch on the ground in front of her. "Toph," she heard herself whisper. "What do you think... What do you think will happen to Aang? If he—kills the Fire Lord."
Toph hadn't moved from the entrance to the earth tent, still on her stomach, head now resting on her folded arms. "There's no if. He's gotta do it. And honestly—I think he's making too big a deal out of this. The guy's pure evil. If I were Aang, I wouldn't be worrying about what some dead monks said a hundred years ago, I'd be worrying about right now. He'll realize that, and he'll be fine." She paused, her sightless eyes seeming to stare right through the place Katara knelt. "I mean, you're fine, aren't you?"
Katara hesitated. She let her eyes drift—up to the towering wall of the city, so high it seemed to go on forever.
"Honestly, Toph… I'm not sure."
Toph finally seemed to realize that this wasn't going to be a short conversation. With a deep sigh, she sat up, shifting herself to sit just outside the earth tent, one leg folded, her elbow resting on her knee.
"What aren't you sure about?" she asked. It wasn't the way Suki might have said it—gently, with patience and understanding. It was almost accusing, like whatever Katara might say she was already ready for a fight, to immediately shoot it down.
And maybe that was what she needed—for someone to stand up and fight the heaviness in her mind, to laugh and mock the monsters in her thoughts until they didn't seem quite so scary.
"Since I... did that," Katara said slowly. "I've felt off. Like there's something not right." She hesitated, as Toph's old words played again in her mind. She swallowed. "I know you think of me... as being like a mom sometimes. And I've tried not to be so much, and I know sometimes you think it's annoying, but—well, that's me, isn't it? Or who I'm supposed to be. A mom is kind, and caring, and... and..."
Her voice was a broken whisper by the end, and she couldn't continue. She wasn't even sure she was making any sense—but she felt like she was finally putting the vague feelings that had been congealing in her mind into words. The same feeling Aang had tried to express, when he had been about to strike down the Melon Lord in the training. Only unlike him, the decision wasn't still before her. She had already made it.
"Am I," she whispered, "...not myself anymore?"
Toph was silent for a long minute. Though of course her eyes saw nothing, Katara felt Toph's attention on her, for once stopping to consider how to answer. At last she let out a long sigh.
"Look, Katara. If you spend your entire life trying to figure out who you're supposed to be, you're gonna be nobody. You make yourself into who you're gonna be. I mean, look at me."
Toph's face was raised to Katara, and once again seemed to stare past her. "I told you before about how I found the badgermoles, and how they taught me earthbending. I always kind of had a sense about earthbending, but the truth is, before I met them—I was a helpless, scared kid who couldn't do much, who just had to wait for people to do things for me. That was who I was—myself—back then. I made myself someone different. My parents didn't like it—they wanted me to always be scared and helpless, so I'd just stay locked up and safe. Be whoever you make yourself, Katara, whoever you need to be. Don't let anyone else, that includes all of us, or Twinkletoes, tell you who to be."
After a brief pause, Toph added, "You can be scary sometimes—and you know, sometimes we kinda need scary."
Katara couldn't help it, she smiled a little. "Are you saying... I should... make myself into someone who kills people?"
Toph smirked in return. "Well, you could if you wanted to. Someone who kills bad guys at least." She punched a fist into her palm.
Katara's smile faded a little, uncertain, unsure now if they were joking, or if on some level, Toph meant it.
Katara whispered, "I don't want to kill any more people. It feels... awful."
"So why did you kill him then?"
It wasn't a challenge, just a blunt, curious question, of the kind only Toph could pose so directly.
Katara wound back to that night, when she had left camp with Appa and Zuko. And then, that rainy day on the path. Trying to remember, to understand herself.
"I..." she began slowly. "I was so angry. It hurt so much to have all that rage inside me. I didn't want to have to think of him and what he did, and be angry anymore."
Toph considered that. "And are you?" she asked. "Still angry, I mean."
Katara tried to think—to recall the thoughts and feelings from the days after what she had done, and what she felt now.
"No," she said finally. "I don't think I feel—angry. At least not as much. But—"
Toph suddenly stiffened where she sat. In an instant she was forming the hand signs to retract the stone of her tent. She pressed a palm to the open ground—then she was suddenly on her feet.
"What is it?" Katara whispered, alert. "It isn't—"
"Trouble," Toph said grimly.
Before Katara could answer, fire erupted in a blazing circle, surrounding them on all sides. Katara's pulse spiked, her heart plunged.
The others had all awoken at the sound of Toph's earthbending, and now stood on the ground next to Appa, taking defensive stances.
Katara's eyes scanned the flames, searching for their assailants. At last her gaze rose to the rubble of the broken wall, and several figures appeared along its uneven edge. For a moment, she couldn't make them out in the darkness, but as they each stepped closer to the light of the flickering flames, she blinked, and suddenly realized they were familiar—every single one.
They all wore black robes with silver shoulders, each identical to the other, like a soldier's uniform. There were four of them—one wore his graying hair in a tidy topknot, face slightly stern, yet calm, full of quiet dignity. Another gazed at them with intense eyes, a pair of twin scars down his temple, while still another kept his long silver-white hair half tied back, features sharp as flint. The last had tufts of hair and beard sticking out at wild angles, one eye narrower than the other, cracked lips spread in a wide grin. All their faces were lined with age.
"Well," said the man with the tufts, drawing out the word in a drawl, "look who's here." Then he gave a crazed, snorting laugh.
Katara felt her shoulders relax, and when Sokka glanced at her with a growing smile, she smiled back.
The one with the twin scars—Master Jeong Jeong, of course—swept a hand to the side, banishing the flames. They each stepped down from the loose, treacherous rocks, moving with surprising nimbleness and agility. All except King Bumi, who took a wild leap, swinging his arms like a gorilla-ape's, chuckling and snorting all the way. Until the four had all congregated before them.
"What's going on?" Toph asked. "We're surrounded by old people."
"Not just any old people," Sokka said, grinning. "Friends of ours!"
"And great masters," Katara added.
She looked to Master Pakku first—he wore the same armored cloak of silver and black as the others, and yet he hadn't changed at all since he had trained her at the North Pole. Still the same grumpy frown lines.
Katara felt a surge of affection, followed by a flicker of—something. Her wide smile shrank a fraction.
Sokka approached Master Piandao, and bowed, fist to palm in a gesture of respect. "Master," he said.
"Hello, Sokka," answered Piandao. "I hope you are putting that blade to good use." He eyed the sword strapped to Sokka's back.
"Of course, Master," Sokka said quickly, looking up, but in spite of Piandao's dry, skeptical tone, his eyes were twinkling fondly.
Katara glanced back at Master Pakku, and saw he had a craggy eyebrow cocked at her expectantly.
Katara blinked, then hurried forward, trying to make her hands form the proper gesture as she quickly bowed.
"Master," she said.
"I suppose that will do," Master Pakku sniffed. "But I don't suppose you might also have a hug for your new grandfather."
Katara blinked in shock, then raised her head to find Pakku smiling down at her, arms out.
Katara stared at him in disbelief, then smiled wide. She stepped forward, throwing her arms around him. "That's so exciting! You and Gran-Gran must be so happy to have found each other again."
Once, long ago, her grandmother had been a girl in the Northern Water Tribe, betrothed to Pakku in an arranged marriage. Gran-Gran had chosen to leave and go to the Southern Tribe rather than go through with it—that they would come together again now was startling and completely out of nowhere, but she felt a swell of joy for them, too. Gran-Gran had been alone a long time, since their grandfather had passed. And now Master Pakku would not just be Katara's master, but family.
Sokka beamed, arms out to join the hug. "Welcome to the family, Gramp-Gramp!"
Pakku frowned, half pushing Sokka away. "You can still just call me Pakku."
"How about Grand-Pakku?" Sokka suggested hopefully.
"No."
Zuko and Suki were standing over closer to Jeong Jeong, and Suki glanced at him. "And... you...?"
"This was Aang's first firebending teacher," Katara said, raising a hand in introduction.
Zuko eyed Jeong Jeong curiously, before bowing in respect. Jeong Jeong bowed in return. "Jeong Jeong," he said gruffly.
"Zuko is Aang's firebending teacher now," Katara added.
"I hope you haven't been going easy on him," said Jeong Jeong, eying Zuko up and down.
"Uh—no," answered Zuko, stuttering slightly. Jeong Jeong's intensity could be a little unnerving at the best of times.
"And I'm—" Bumi began, spreading his arms. Then he frowned. "—wondering why you seem to be missing someone." His eyes darted suspiciously from one face to the next. "Where's Momo?"
"Um," began Sokka. "He's not here." He hesitated, then added, "And neither is Aang."
Bumi gave an airy shrug. "Oh well, as long as they're together."
"But—so, how do you all know each other?" Suki asked curiously.
"All old people know each other," Bumi answered dismissively, then snort-laughed.
"We are all part of the same ancient secret society," Master Piandao explained. "A group that transcends the divisions of the four nations."
"The Order of the White Lotus," Zuko murmured.
"That's the one," Bumi said brightly.
"The White Lotus has always been about philosophy," said Jeong Jeong. "And beauty, and truth—but a month ago, a call went out that we were needed."
Master Pakku turned his eyes to Zuko. "It came from a Grand Lotus—your uncle. Iroh of the Fire Nation."
"That's who we're looking for," Toph answered.
"Then we'll take you to him." Bumi spun, turning his back to them with delight. He gave a conspiratorial wink over his shoulder. "Just follow me."
He stomped a foot—and the earth suddenly erupted beneath him, launching him into the air so high in a moment he was no more than a speck in the night sky, laughing and snorting all the way.
After a pause, Sokka said, "Uh. How are we supposed to follow that?"
"He'll stop and wait for us to catch up," Piandao reassured them gravely.
Pakku added, "Probably."
They did meet back with Bumi eventually—whether because he'd actually realized they weren't behind him, or because he suddenly developed a fascination with a particular pile of rocks, it wasn't entirely clear.
Katara's impression of Bumi from when they had met in Omashu was that he was an incredibly clever and wily man who simply enjoyed acting crazy, but still his odd jokes and nonsensical comments always managed to be slightly unsettling.
Sokka wanted to know about Omashu—the last time they had been in the city, it had been occupied by the Fire Nation, and Bumi was being held as their prisoner. Apparently during the eclipse Bumi had taken the place back single-handedly—Katara had known he was a powerful earthbender, but not that powerful.
Katara noticed Toph walking silently beside her, and though she didn't speak, Katara could almost see the wheels in her head turning—perhaps trying to scheme up a way to challenge him to prove who was the best earthbender in the world. Of course, camping so close to a Fire Nation stronghold was hardly the time and place for earthshaking contests of power, and Katara hoped Toph would use some common sense.
Bumi raised his hands and lowered them, and a slab of stone just ahead slid neatly down into the ground with a heavy grinding. A collection of tents lay just beyond, nestled hidden among the rock and uneven landscape.
They came to a stop, and Zuko's eyes scanned the tents in the dark, eyebrows tense, mouth set in a line.
"Where... where is he?" he asked at last.
Piandao had come to a stop beside him. He pointed at the largest tent, one of the furthest from where they stood, set in a place of prominence. "Your uncle's in there, Prince Zuko."
Zuko clenched his fists, as though steeling himself. Then he carefully approached, leaving the rest of them behind.
"Well," Sokka said at last, stretching. "While Zuko's doing that, I'm going to go get some more shut-eye. Old people like nice, soft places to sleep, right?"
"Just give me a good flat rock," Toph inserted.
"This way," said Master Piandao, hand extended graciously.
Katara, meanwhile, kept her eyes on Zuko as he made his way toward the tent, his shoulders tense, head slightly bent. As the others followed Piandao, she slipped away from them, approaching.
Zuko stood in front of the tent flap, staring at it as though it were an impenetrable wall. Instead of stepping forward to pull it back, he lowered himself to a sit, bowing his head.
"Are you okay?" Katara asked, aware she was asking the same question she had been trying to get others to stop asking her, but unable to help herself.
Zuko hesitated, then shook his head once. "No, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know he does." His good eye narrowed and shifted away. "He loved me, supported me in every way he could. But—I still turned against him. How can I face him?" He glanced once at Katara, then quickly looked away again. "And... even now that I'm trying to be good, I still keep making mistakes."
Katara paused, then lowered herself down to kneel beside him. She reached forward, until her hand came to rest on his shoulder.
"Zuko—" she began. "I know you're... sorry for everything you did."
"More sorry than I've ever been about anything in my entire life," he muttered gruffly.
"So he'll forgive you." Katara hesitated, then gave him a half smile. "I mean… even I forgave you, right?"
Zuko blinked, startled, and slowly turned his eyes toward her. He stared back at her for a long moment—before a hint of a smile touched his lips. Then he sighed and pushed himself back to his feet.
"Good luck," she called after him softly, just as the tent flap swung closed behind him.
Katara climbed back to her feet, and stood there in the darkness for a moment, waiting. She rubbed her arms, even though it wasn't cold. However, as the minutes passed, there was no sound from inside. Either Zuko's uncle was really giving him the silent treatment, or he was asleep, and Zuko had decided not to wake him.
Katara knew she ought to go try to get some more sleep as the others were doing, but still the images from the nightmares continued to drift at the back of her mind, like haunting shadows. Instead, she found herself turning, and walking back along the line of tents, lit in the silver light of the moon. Until—
"Wandering about instead of resting before a great battle? Your lack of discipline reflects poorly on your master, you know."
Katara stopped and turned to see Master Pakku, standing just at the corner of a roped tent stake. His arms were folded over his chest, sharp eyes staring down at her over his familiar hawkish nose.
"What happened to Grand-Pakku?" Katara asked. "Or Gramp-Gramp?"
Master Pakku sniffed. "I never agreed to those titles. A master, in-law or not, must be treated with respect."
Katara gazed at her former master. However, as she did, her slight smile faded. She was used to Master Pakku's pompous air, it made her feel strangely warm, nostalgic. And yet—seeing him again here, now, it had initially sparked another feeling. Discomfort, shame.
She had used the knowledge he had taught her in a way he would never approve. Almost as though she were making him a part of what she had done, too.
"Master," she began hesitantly. "I'm sorry if this is a personal question. But... can I ask you..." She took a silent, steadying breath. "Have you ever used your bending to... kill someone?"
Master Pakku eyed her for a long moment, his expression impossible to read. At last, he raised a single finger, crooking it inward in a beckoning gesture to his left—and Katara turned to see Master Jeong Jeong passing by a nearby tent. He stopped to look back at them, before he approached.
Katara wasn't sure she wanted to have this conversation with Master Jeong Jeong of all people, but she didn't seem to have much choice.
"The Northern Water Tribe was largely shielded from the worst of the war," said Master Pakku. "However… Master Jeong Jeong, Master Katara would like to know—"
"I heard the question," Jeong Jeong said brusquely. He studied her for a long minute, with fierce, penetrating eyes, until Katara shifted uncomfortably.
At last he said, "You wish to know the Avatar's fate, when he completes his duty to the world."
Katara didn't contradict him, only raised her eyes to stare back, waiting for him to continue.
Jeong Jeong considered her for a moment more, before at last he folded his arms behind his back, half turning away.
"I was an admiral for many years. Before then I was brought in as a firebending tutor, and was spared fighting on the front lines—but I trained many students who did. They spread destruction across the lands, and for every life they extinguished, the souls of those taken weighed heavy upon me."
"That's why you left the Fire Navy," Katara said. It was so strange to think of Jeong Jeong as an admiral, training firebenders, perhaps ordering attacks. That he could have been responsible, even indirectly, for the deaths of the family of others was hard to comprehend.
"Yes," Jeong Jeong answered. "I left."
He paused, then added, "When I went, many pursued me as a traitor, including some of my own former apprentices. One came closer than the others—a brash man, consumed with the honor and glory of war. As we fought, he spoke of the detestable things he had done—the enemies he had felled, the villages he had burned. He had nothing but contempt for my distaste for violence."
Katara felt slightly sick. "Zhao," she whispered. Zhao had been an apprentice to Jeong Jeong long ago—he had been their enemy on their way to find Aang a waterbending teacher, and had, in the end, slain the moon spirit in order to rob waterbenders of their powers. Only Princess Yue's sacrifice, taking on the role of the new moon spirit, had restored the world to balance.
"No," Jeong Jeong answered. "Not him. But if you understand the sort of man Zhao was, then you understand this man." Jeong Jeong paused for a moment, eyes distant.
"I was responsible for creating this man, for giving him the powers he needed to spread the curse that is fire. In that fight, I let my rage at what I had unleashed burn out of control..."
With two fingers, Jeong Jeong traced the twin burn lines that cut through his temples—though whether because he had received them then, or they simply called to mind some broken oath, Katara wasn't sure.
Katara didn't want to interrupt his reverie, but after a minute of silence, she began hesitantly, "But, if this apprentice—if he did so many terrible things, then... was it really bad? I mean, I know it would have felt awful, to fight your own student like that, but still, wouldn't you have also felt better, knowing he wasn't—"
"No," Jeong Jeong interrupted sharply.
Katara blinked, falling silent under his harsh gaze. She couldn't quite meet his blazing eyes.
"To take another life is not something done for oneself," Jeong Jeong said. "To seek peace, to make yourself feel better, in such a way—it is a fool's errand, and will only lead one down a path of misery and self-destruction. With every life taken, your soul grows heavier with the weight of theirs. The apprentice's life I took, not out of necessity, but from my fury I failed to master, is a shame and regret I will bear to the end of my days."
Katara wanted to reply. And yet, at his words, the nebulous feelings of unease she had been carrying around, unable to define even to herself, seemed suddenly to solidify into something concrete. All this time, her thoughts had felt—heavier. That was the way to describe it. Every action, every thought weighed down as though she were still soaked to the skin in rainwater.
Pakku was eying Master Jeong Jeong as though unsure if this illustration was the best fit for the situation—making Katara wonder what Jeong Jeong might know, what he might see, just looking at her face.
At last, Jeong Jeong continued, "In killing the Fire Lord, the Avatar will not achieve peace for himself. Rather, it will leave a scar, a great burden he will never be rid of."
Jeong Jeong considered her for a moment, then added, "Healing is not impossible. You may be able to help, as his friend. But he will never be the same as you once knew, unfettered by the kind of regret that only one who has taken life may know."
Something Jeong Jeong had once said flickered at the back of her mind—I always wished I were blessed like you. Free from this burning curse. He had been speaking of the powers of waterbending, the art of healing.
Katara breathed deeply, trying to fill her lungs, but they wouldn't seem to fully expand. At last she said, "I understand, Master. Thank you."
Katara bowed, placing her hands together in the Water Tribe way of respect, then did the same to Master Pakku. Then she turned away.
Katara breathed again, and though her lungs still felt tight, a little of the tension in her shoulders eased.
Dawn would be approaching soon—the day of the comet, the day they would face the Fire Nation, and it would be over, one way or another. She vowed she would be herself—whoever that turned out to be.
A/N: I've always tended to wonder if we'll ever see more of Jeong Jeong, it feels like there's a lot of his history we don't know. I'd love to see some of the oneshot comics pick out some backstories from some of the old masters, since it seems they won't be covering the main continuation of the ATLA storyline anymore, but maybe that's unlikely.
Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you in the next one!
Posted 10/19/22
