Iroh strode off the ship and took a deep, grateful breathe of the cold air. The sky was still dark, the moon hidden in shadow, the black canopy dotted with bright stars that glittered like Christmas lights. Technically it was morning, though the sun would be sleeping on other sides of the world for many long days. The old General, though unaccustomed to the perpetual darkness, found the starlit, silver tundra a breathtaking portrait in comparison to the molten lands of Fire Nation. Why, if he could stand the cold, this may be a nice play for him to retire...start a shop, give Pai Chow lessons...

He started off down the street at a leisurely stroll, waving casually to the few vendors that were setting up shop on the roadside. Snow had fallen during the night and women pushed the mounds from their doorsteps with heavy shovels; large huskies bounced jovially in the fresh powder as their masters finished loading their sleds. A husky that was almost too wolfish bounded up to the General and licked his hand, sniffing at his pocket. Iroh laughed gently and drew a piece of fish from his coat, tossing it to the dog. The husky devoured it and bounced back to his sled, where his master was harnessing the dogs.

The houses were not set in neat rows, but scattered; partly because some of the ground was not ground at all, but very hard ice - which explained why an old man was sitting beside his house with a fishing pole in the snow. Iroh walked up to him with a friendly smile and sat down beside him as the man nodded his hooded head.

"Ice fishing, I see," said Iroh, claiming his interest in the activity. The man nodded, smiling.

"Passes the time, don't it. Relaxing, too. I assume you've never had the pleasure?" Iroh gazed at the hole in the ice with a slight twinkle in his eye.

"Afraid I haven't, but perhaps one day I'll learn - after my retirement, I suppose," the man laughed quietly and began to instruct Iroh on the styles, hooks, baits, and talents of ice fishing.

Zuko saw his Uncle sit beside the old man and grinned despite himself. Katara, noticing the two old men had become acquaintances, took his hand and pulled him towards the nearest shop. It was a run by an old weapon smith, and Sokka was already inside with the man studying his poorly repaired boomerang.

"I can fix this for you, no problem," he said, winking at the warrior and setting the boomerang on his desk. Sokka gave a leap of joy as the man began to upgrade the repairs on the precious weapon. Zuko kissed Katara lightly on the cheek before studying a long, curved blade that was hanging on the wall. Katara approached the counter as the man pulled out a replacement blade.

"Excuse me, sir...do you know if there are any water benders here? I don't mean to be rude, but we've been searching for one -"

"Well as a matter of fact, young lady, we've got two," said the man, his tone light and good-natured. "One's a hermit, don't seem him much around, lives in the glaciers further up...other one's the priest. She's the best water bender around, anyways."

Katara's heart leapt in her chest. Behind her, Sokka and Zuko were play fighting with the curved sowrd and a double-sided spear. Sokka wasn't doing so well.

"Do you know where I can find her -?"

There was a loud bang and the door fell roughly off its hinges. Aang toppled into the room, out of breathe, barely able to stand. He leaned against his glider as Katara rushed over to him and Zuko and Sokka dropped their weapons. The shop owner gazed in shock before running over to aid the Avatar.

"Aang? Aang! What's wrong? Why -"

Katara's thought screeched as Aang's eyes met hers. He was terrified, his eyes shaking with fear, his whole body quivering. He pushed away from her as though she was some horrible monster and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

"The square...I went there, with Momo...it was...it was horrible..."

Zuko put his hand on the Avatar's shoulder as he swayed from fatigue. Aang seemed paralyzed, barely able to breathe, to stand up. Sokka approached him worriedly as the shop keeper threw his head out the window to see if anything was chasing him.

"Aang...what was? What's going on -" Sokka would have gone on, but at the moment a loud series of screams pierced the air.

Zuko skidded into the square with Sokka beside him. The two were mirrors of each other as the pushed through the crowd of horrified people; women who wailed and children who screamed, men who bit their teeth and yelled for everyone to get away. The two young men did not need words to know exactly what they were about to do - defend these people, defend the Avatar, defend Katara -

Sokka slid down into the opening before Zuko did. The snow on the earth was melted into puddles of cold water, and their was a nauseating smell hanging on the wind. The ring of people backed away as the two boys skidded to a stop beside Iroh, who had ran blindly from his ice fishing and was now staring, mortified, at the scene. Sokka was the first to see and he turned instantly to Zuko.

"Don't let Katara come down here."

"What -?"

"DON'T LET HER!" he yelled, pointing past Zuko to Katara's frame, who was still pushing her way through the crowd. Zuko bolted back up the slope as Sokka turned back to the sight and swallowed beside Iroh. Katara met Zuko halfway through and gripped his shirt, confused out of her mind.

"Zuko, what is it -?"

"Go back to the ship with Aang. Please," he added desperately. Katara stared at him, and Zuko could see the concern swelling behind those gorgeous, blue eyes. But he couldn't let her - he had heard the tone in Sokka's voice and knew exactly why Katara couldn't go down there.

"Zuko, if there's a fight, I can help, there's snow everywhere -"

"It's not a fight Katara, please," he begged. He didn't want to fight with her right now, he needed to get back to Sokka and Iroh. "Trust me, please. I'll tell you later. Just go back to the ship..."

Zuko knew she was searching his gaze, knew she was feeling for his flame, trying to discern what would cause this desperate plea. She could heard the tremor of terror in his voice and knew he was saving her from something, but her heart ached that he was facing it alone.

"Sokka's with you, right?" she asked instantly. Zuko nodded and she swallowed. He leaned in and kissed her for reassurance, holding her close for a minute.

"Go talk to Aang. Practice bending. We'll be back soon," she nodded, squeezed him faintly, and took off in the opposite direction.

Zuko turned back to the slope and took a long, deep breathe. Then he pushed past the shocked people and skidded down beside Sokka, who had hardly moved from his spot. There was a breif moment where Zuko shut his eyes, preparing for the blow, and opened his eyes to the scene.

He knew instantly why they screamed. Why Iroh clenched his teeth. Why Sokka bent over, choked, and vomited.

They were burned, broken, dismembered, twisted, pulled apart, eviscerated, decapitated; bones were broken, torn through gashes of what may have been muscles, veins spreading across the snow like blue and purple wires. Sections of bodies were burned into mutilated figures, eyes were hanging from sockets, skulls crushed inwardly, heads disfigured. Flashes of metal or ice stuck through limbs and nailed bruised, torn abdomens to the ground like a mockery of a crucifixion. Body parts were flung feet away from them, black with scars, their death fresh as the sickening, horrible stench that hung in the air. They were not even recognizable of men, their skin was all torn or bloody or burned, their insides turned out, the joints cracked into obscure angles. The only thing that their torturer had left untouched was their gaping mouths, frozen in what Zuko knew was a horrible, twisted death scream.

It was the most grotesque, horrifying thing the Prince had ever witnessed. As Sokka strode up beside Iroh, slightly green from being sick, Zuko felt his own stomach rising in his throat. The men of the Water Tribe were shooing the women and children away, telling them to go inside and lock their doors, opening them for no one but their husbands.

Zuko threw up, but recovered quicker than Sokka. Iroh had seen devastation before and merely let his eyes water as he counted.

"Six...there are six," he whispered. A man from the Water Tribe, having disposed of his lunch, glared at the old man accusingly.

"So, this is what the Fire Nation does, does it? Come to our town, mutilate and kill? This is the working of - ofthat twisted Prince, that blood-crazed General -!"

"If you would take the time to think, my friend, you would know that my nephew and I would never dream of doing this, much less accomplish it," hissed Iroh. It was the first real time - ever since the fight with his father - that Zuko had ever seen real anger etched into his Uncle's features. The man fell silent and Iroh glared at him and his companions, letting his age-old experience shine forth.

"These are Earth Kingdom soldiers. Do you see their teeth? All the people of Water Tribe have perfect teeth - the warriors of Earth Kingdom have very crooked ones. And as for us - why would we find six Earth Kingdom soldiers, torture and kill them, and then leave them lying in the street, after we have been here peacefully for the past three days? Have you seen any sign of Earth Kingdom? Isn't there a watch on the street at night? If we had done this, someone would have seen us."

Iroh glared back at the carnage and studied the surrounding area. Despite his words, Zuko noticed several men glare hatefully at him and gnash their teeth. Iroh gazed back at the first man and lowered his gaze.

"The bodies were carried here all at the same time. There are no long trails in the snow, so they were not dragged. The footsteps were covered overnight by the snow. But they must have come from the West, since that is the only direction they could come without the watch seeing."

"You seem to know a lot for someone who didn't do it," hissed the man. Several of his cronies cracked their knuckles in reply.

"You seem very ignorant for a man of your age," snarled Iroh in defense. "It would take us six hours to make it to where I suppose they were brought, and how could my son and I carry six bodies? No, sir. There is an enemy close by, and I suggest you arm your people. In the meantime, we must take these bodies away. Zuko? Sokka?"

The two boys nodded and toughened their shells for the work ahead. As Zuko pulled on a pair of gloves and a second coat, he focused his mind on Katara. For the next four hours, through the horror of carrying disfigured body parts to the water's edge, the sole thing that kept both himself and Sokka sane was the thought of their friends aboard ship.

Katara was still pondering over what could possible have been down the slope when she started into the street. Everyone had locked themselves indoors, something she and Aang would have to do when they reached their separate quarters on ship. There Katara they would wait for Sokka and Zuko's return, and whatever terrible story came with them.

So absorbed what she in her puzzlement that it took her a long while to hear the steps behind her. But when she turned, they had stopped.

She gazed down the street, slightly scared but deciding she was just over-stressed from the incident. Shaking her head, she turned her gaze back up the street.

It was too devilish to behold, to terrifying for her to scream. She stumbled back and Zhao's hand clenched on her jaw, tearing her voice away. He glared at her, his bloodthirst momentarily quenched from recent kills, and fire rode up his arm.

"Did I scare you, little girl?"