"Why is your brother reading poetry to the moon?"
Katara glanced over to where Sokka stood. Sure enough, he was staring up at the moon, yelling out a haiku to it.
"Don't worry," she said. "It's normal."
Zuko raised an eyebrow. Normal? He knew the other teen was strange, but this was a bit too ridiculous.
Seeing his skeptical look, Katara said, "It's a tradition in the Water Tribe to make to make an offering to the moon spirit during the last full moon of the year."
"So he's reciting poetry to it?"
She nodded.
Shaking his head, Zuko said, "I still don't get it. I mean, what good does it do?"
"It's believed that if the moon likes your gift, she'll grant you good luck for the next year. If she doesn't, well…" Katara trailed off, letting the implications explain the rest. Looking up at the pale white sphere that hung above their heads, she added, "I still can't think of anything to give her."
The prince watched as she slipped into deep thought. The customs of her nation had always seemed strange to him, but this one was by far the most unusual. How was it that something that seemed so absurd had become an annual tradition?
Zuko was distracted from his musings when Katara moved. She reached to her necklace and undid its clasp, never taking her eyes off the moon.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm making my offering," she said, standing and walking to the spot Sokka had just left.
"Oh great spirit of the moon," she began. "Please accept this gift as a reward for your kindness and strength bringing light."
As she spoke, she held her necklace out, dangling it above the water. When she finished, she let go, dropping it into the ocean.
She turned around and, seeing Zuko's shocked expression, said, "I've clung to my mother's necklace for years, hoping I could somehow bring her back. Now I realize she's gone forever, and I've decided to let go of the past."
She smiled sadly, then walked passed him, into her house.
Zuko stood in place for a few moments, glancing from the moon I the sky to its reflection in the water. His mind drifted to Ba Sing Se, when he had thrown away his identity as the Blue Spirit in a similar fashion. Walking toward the shore and kneeling at its edge, he peered into the ocean, trying to catch a glimpse of the necklace. His gaze was met only by his reflection and the inky blackness of the water's depths.
Katara had let go a part of herself, just as he had.
Perhaps the tradition wasn't so strange afterall.
Author's Notes: I wrote this for a new challenge in my guild. Probably not my best, but I think it's okay.
Anyway, tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters.
