Hope
She stood in the distance, to far away to heal or give comfort to the dying man and his nephew. They had seen the battle from a ledge; she stood on it now replaying the scene in her mind. She remembered the warning call the old man had made to signal his nephew. She remembered the impossible odds of eight on two. She remembered seeing a sword swipe the old mans stomach as he turned to defend his nephew. She remembered the hell born performance the boy had pulled off after he saw the gash.
Now all that was left was the dead faces of men staring up at the cloudless sky, and a teenage boy holding his dead uncle in his arms, tears streaming down his face. And as she witnessed all this she forgot about fire and water, sun and moon, peace and war. All she wanted to do was run down to the boy and comfort him and save him in any way she could. She turned to make her way down the ledge but her brother stopped her.
"Leave him, Katara. We'd only make it worse." She looked down again and back up at her brother and nodded.
"It just doesn't seem fair," she whispered. "No one deserves that kind of pain, not even Zuko, especially not Zuko."
"I know," her brother said. "And we need to stop that kind of pain and death. We can stop it. We'll end it all if we help Aang. It's his destiny."
"Ok, Sokka. Let's go, now. I can't stand to be here for another second." Her brother nodded and called out to Aang. They packed up quickly and took off on Appa. She glanced back at the clearing and saw Zuko looking up at them, a look of hopelessness in his being. "Don't worry Zuko," she whispered, "I'm prepared to die to get the world's hope back."