Again: Thanks to Nick & Brian, Viacom, and Nickelodeon for letting us all play with their characters. Also, I feel like the pace of each chapter is too fast. If anyone wants to advise me on how to slow it down, I'd be grateful for the input.

A Different Choice, Ch3

By R. Patil

It would take precious time to scale the cliff. Thankfully, Toph and Aang made another earth platform that pulled them up quickly. Batto relayed the particulars to Iroh. From the snippets Katara could catch, her dad had asked Batto to keep an eye on the prince. Zuko sat by the fire 'till late, then went to the cliff.

As the group came to the top, Iroh said "Of course, it's best you didn't move him." His mouth was moving on its own, still speaking reason while his mind was staving off panic. Katara hated to see fear grip the old man like this. He'd always been kindly, even as an enemy.

Iroh and Batto stepped onto the cliff at a run. The others stood in shock. A dozen paces ahead, in front of a small fire pit and surrounded by markings scorched into the grass, lay Zuko, shirtless, with a knife protruding from the left side of his chest. There were also shallow cuts on his upper arms that also looked like writing.

Katara shook herself out of it, realizing she might be needed. Hakoda noted "One stab wound, blade still in there to block bleeding… he could have done a lot worse."

"But if we pull the knife out, he'll bleed to death. And we can't leave the blade in there. And we can't move him without making things worse." Iroh was trying to calmly assess the situation, but each point brought him closer to the edge.

"We'll do our best," the daughter of the tribe tried to assure him as she knelt down and raised her hands. She focused on feeling the flow of water through Zuko's body. Waterbenders had a talent for healing because human bodies were mostly filled with water; thick and muddy, thin and runny, fast and pulsing, slow and diffusing; bearing different loads for different purposes, but always flowing. There was a faint start-stop movement from some of his blood, but she also felt a growing stagnation; a pool of blood and other fluids collecting in his chest. It was interfering with the already wounded heart and was keeping his lung from expanding much. There was more fluid on the upper left, so that part of the lung may have collapsed already. She reported the situation to the young man's uncle, not including the fact that without the spirits, he was done for.

…spirits…

DUH!

She pulled the vial of water from the Northern Spirit Oasis out of her shirt. She had always felt something from the vial as if it were quietly humming because it had a secret. Now she felt the water was dancing, as though it had been waiting for this moment, for the need to arise. The water nearly bended itself out, eagerly accepting her guidance. It swirled as she activated it, giving it that gentle push from being normal water to its more vibrant healing state. The globule became a ring, glowing as bright and clear as sunlight.

She asked Batto to pull the blade out. As he did, she let the water sink into the wound, her hand at opposite sides of the opening. She explained while she worked; "First, we need to close the wounds."

A few moments.

"Now, we'll slowly reopen some of the body's channels, so the fluid pooled in his chest can drain to the right areas." The body had its own systems to fix problems like this; her job was to simply give it a serious boost. Her palms hovered above his body, arms, legs, and head, with occasional slight wrist movements being the only sign she had found and cleared any blockage. Another minute.

As the pool inside him receded, his breathing grew deeper, slower; his lung had re-expanded again. She had to concentrate—if the fluid returned to his system too quickly he might get hurt again. After a few minutes of careful control, the pool had nearly drained. She spoke again. "A lot of the body's energy channels close during injuries. Most of the time that's helpful, but sometimes it's as dangerous as the wound. I'm going to open them a little to start the process, then back off."

Her index and middle fingers traced the meridians, ensuring energy was moving gently and steadily throughout. She narrowed and opened the channels as needed. AS she passed over his head the third time, his eyes fluttered open. He looked beyond them, unfocused. Momentarily they closed again, color returning to his formerly ashen skin. Katara's fingers returned to his body's energy central point just below the navel, completing the operation.

Sitting back, she breathed more deeply and gave the results. "He's asleep. He's going to need a lot of rest and healing, but he's out of danger." The relief that swept over Iroh's face nearly broke her heart. She was even more surprised when the old man, clad in a scraped tea server's robes, standing as straight as a veteran, and with all the personal presence of royalty, got on his knees before her.

"I lost my son nine years ago, under my command at the siege of Ba Sing Se. I thank you, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, for seeing to it that I didn't have to bury another son." He bowed forward, forehead and hands on the ground. She felt proud of herself, but also deeply humbled by the general's display of abject gratitude. She was trying to think of something to say in response that wouldn't cheapen his gesture when her father bailed her out. "Aang, Toph, can you two get him back to camp without jostling him?" Both kids agreed.

They returned to camp, greeted by the stares of every warrior; word had gotten around. Well, except to Sokka, who was eating breakfast. He looked up from his plate to the group; Hakoda and Batto in the lead, Katara and Iroh in the rear, Toph and Aang looking kinda focused, and Zuko lying shirtless and unconscious on a moving table of stone. His keen insight led him to ask, "What'd I miss?"