By Order Of Admiral Zhao:
Lord Ozai demands the Avatar alive. You are to wound, incapacitate, and capture him. I forbid the use of poisons.
Even the most loyal Yu Yan archer forfeits their life in killing the Avatar.
…in this way, Raava and Vaatu are inextricably bound. Within the impurities of one lies the source of the other. Their struggle is limited only by existence. Are they a byproduct of reality or necessary patterns woven into the very core? The great scholar Aei Relske lokkn plandw sies: "Plenek lake driand tuekns. Uyek verend skeld mmmensu febni derisku blaks. Sndkela enfey ldlp sndna." A paradoxical quandary that may never be unraveled fully.
Katara blinked and looked away from the book. She squeezed her eyes shut and let her mind relax for a moment before trying to read the passage once more. There were words there, to be sure: readable and individually understandable. Yet, together, their meaning escaped her. The old wood creaked as she leaned back in her chair. Or perhaps it was her back? Not so gentle pinpricks raced up her spine as suddenly relaxed muscles voiced their displeasure at holding still for so long. Darkness reigned passed the windows. What time was it?
Her office, once the very personification of immaculate order, teemed with small mountains of tomes, scrolls, and journals. The culmination of what must be hundreds or even tens of thousands of years of research on the nature of bending, spirits, the Avatar, and more. Often, before Azula or she could even fully make the request, the Knowledge Seeker scampered off and vanished only to return moments later with a new treasure trove of knowledge gently held in its jaws.
She'd started calling the Knowledge Seeker "Kina" for the dark fur that lined its eyes and muzzle. Kina would sit handsome and proud, offer the requested item to Katara, then wait patiently for its treat of seal blubber. Neither its liquid blue eyes or keen ears ever seemed to miss a detail. Initially, Katara wondered how much Wan Shi Tong watched them through its servant. Now, with Kina nestled under her desk around her feet, she had difficulty remembering the last time she felt so comforted by a mere presence. Too long.
"Any luck?" Katara called out. She gently patted Kina's head and stood up.
Without looking up, Azula held up a finger and continued examining the scroll in front of her. Candlelight danced across her strained, but determined face. The quiet desperation of the past week took its toll on the both of them. Katara would not be surprised if she dreamed of musty pages and vague portents for the rest of her days.
"Did you know," Azula put the scroll she was reading down gently, "that within the Spirit World grows a great tree? A tree whose very roots bind ours and the spirit worlds together?"
"I did not. Do tell." Katara, gingerly at first, walked to the cabinet she used to help entertain guests. She filled two wine glasses and generously filled them with a rare vintage port gifted by her brother some years back. How a life of constant travel and meager means allowed them to afford such a prize Katara did not want to know. She made her way to Azula, offering her a glass.
Azula looked at the glass dubiously, "Far be it from me to tell you how to run your office, but in the Fire Nation we severely punish government officials that drink on the job. And, it would be wrong. I don't think we're any closer to finding a cure."
"Nonsense. I know we've made great progress. We're just missing some crucial piece. And besides, all work and no play makes irritable old women. We've been at this for days. Come on, let's go watch the sunrise."
"That's not for many hours," Azula said matter-of-factly.
"Then we'll have that much longer to enjoy our port."
Azula took the proffered glass, her lips twisted into a wry, if tired, smile. "I can see why they made you a diplomat."
"Sadly, my present post is one of simple pleasantries and formalities. Forced retirement by another name is still retirement." Katara opened the door to her veranda and stepped out into the cold, still air.
Azula followed quietly after donning her parka and leaned against the railing looking out over the harbor. The stars were beautiful tonight. The pale moon loomed high overhead.
"Do you think she'll forgive my people?" Azula asked, "Yue, I mean." She sipped from her glass slowly. "Can we ever truly be forgiven?"
"I can't profess to know the spirits as well as Aang, but Yue has a good heart. I am certain she will, if she hasn't already. There is one way to know for sure: you could always ask."
"You met Hoka around then, didn't you?" Azula said, suddenly changing the subject, "What's he like, really? I could never get a feel for him. He feigns humble and simple, a man of few words, but I'm certain you saw more in him than that."
Katara chuckled, "Behind that chilly exterior is a wit and humor no one expects, least of all me, initially." The chuckle turned to a sigh, "And warmth. He can be so gentle and so kind. Too much, sometimes." Katara sipped from her wine glass.
"It was a night like this one that we first met all those years ago."
"That's when Aang was sick, after you met up with Piro?"
Katara nodded. "Without Piro, I don't think I would've tried to hoof it to the Northern Water Tribes in the dead of night. She was like that. She had this way of crystallizing our resolve. She never gave impassioned speeches or argument bound by reason. She merely had to agree. Or disagree. Pivots on decisions occurred with mere gestures: a gentle sigh, a shrug of the shoulders. Coming across Hoka like that was some kind of miracle."
Azula frowned suddenly and her voice hardened. "She always did have that effect, didn't she? And here I thought I was the only one to notice."
"Is that the reason why you two never got along?"
"One of many." Azula drained her glass, "Good port, Katara. You're right. That's just what I needed."
"You're not going to talk about her, are you?" Katara leaned against the railing and looked squarely at Azula. "If you're worried about Aang, I won't…"
"I know you won't tell him. I trust you." Azula put a hand on Katara's and squeezed gently. "I made a promise to my husband all those years ago. I'll let sleeping dogs lie until the very end."
A moment of silenced passed between the two friends. The moon looked down from its vantage point, not unkindly. Katara briefly wondered if Yue, from her vantage point, had a better view of events. Perhaps she could ask.
Katara gasped, "I could ask."
Azula furrowed her brow, "Pardon?"
"Kina," Katara called.
In a moment, the Knowledge Seeker the bounded onto the veranda and sat obediently at her feet. Katara knelt down.
"Kina, I know you're tired, but I need you to retrieve something very special for me. It's a bit outside of your master's orders. I hope that's ok."
Kina barked in what sounded like assent.