Chapter 2: What We Cannot See
The earth trembled again and the shadows gave him no clear picture of the world around him. Dust fell on his head from the shaking roof and he couldn't tell if it was earth-benders or a saber tooth moose lion on a rampage. Something crashed through the roof of the cave where he hid and he tore out into the sunlight.
Trees rushed past and lashed out at him. He knew them only by feel. One caught him on the shoulder and he fell, the earth twisting and rolling beneath him. The warmth on his face told him when he stopped that he was facing the sun but at best his world was a light gray.
That morning he had woken to this hazy world. Waving his hand in front of his face had introduced him to this world of shadows. Any touch to his eyes sent searing blades of pain through his head. The first time he'd nearly blacked out.
He pushed himself to his feet and walked slowly, placing a hand on a shadow tree as he passed to help orientate his movements. Standing made his head pound ruthlessly but he continued on, squinting as he tried to make the world focus a little better.
He continued on until the smell of old fire was thick in the air. The earth crunched and shifted beneath him. What little his eyes could tell him was that the green of the forest was gone, giving way the cold gray of death.
Something caught his foot and ash cascaded into the air as he fell. He was here.
"Uncle!" he called, a strange sound breaking from his throat that he barely recognized as his own voice.
He crawled forward, his hands sifting through the dry ash for something anything. His voice grew stronger as he continued to call out for someone he knew was there, had to be there.
Until, oh Agni, until his hand closed over something that was foreign to the landscape, smooth where wood was rough, solid where ash would crumble, and light where stone was heavy.
It was bone.
He sighed in defeat, cradling the bone in his arms, resting his scarred cheek against the smooth surface. Salty tears scalded his tender eyes but he couldn't hold them back. The world darkened around him and he didn't care, barely finding the strength to move.
The world shifted and danced as she looked up at through the surface of the water. Closing her eyes, she felt her element move around her. Slowly relaxing, she sank down into the purity until she rested at the bottom.
So many ifs ran through her mind that she could barely concentrate on one before another took its place.
What if Aang hadn't healed?
What if their dad wasn't warned that Ba Sing Se had fallen?
What if Bumi couldn't handle the revolution of Omashu?
What if they couldn't defeat the Fire Lord in time?
What if Zuko hadn't betrayed them?
Katara closed her eyes, running that night through her memory one more time. All Zuko wanted was to go home. So did she. Why did they have to be on different sides?
Well, that's just the way it was.
Unwillingly, she wondered where he was now.
He fell to his knees in the mud. Cupping the stream water in his free hand, he drank thirstily. Even then he could not quench that gnawing ache in his stomach. He plunged his whole head into the stream, sucking at the moisture greedily.
Coming up for air, he wiped his mouth and stared forward, seeing nothing. Azula had betrayed him once more but this time she had committed the unforgivable. Honor and glory vanished from his mind leaving barely a trace memory. Vengeance grew like a tumor in their place.
Hours passed like days as he rose and walked on and days passed like months. The only day that stood out to him was the day that he woke not to the gray haze he'd become used to but to total darkness. Still he rose and walked on.
The broken bone, marred by dust and smoke, trailed in the path behind him, held limply in his hand.
One day the sounds of a marketplace harried at his ears. Unseen hands pushed at him and he was shoved back. His heel caught on something as he fell and he heard something break. Curses surrounded him and he wrapped his hand around a sharp shard of what had broken as the screech of an ostrich horse added to the chaos.
He felt himself dragged up and half carried half dragged to where the sound had diminished. He heard more curses as he was bodily thrown again into the dirt. Instead of retaliating, he merely rose and checked to make sure he still had the bone.
A hand on his shoulder, gentle and cool, stopped him and almost made him turn.
"Come with me," a voice said.
And he did so.