Chapter One Hatred
He woke up, exited for the day. He quickly got dressed ready to have fun. Just as he pulled on his shirt his "dad" poked his head in and said, "Breakfast!" with a smile on his face. He then frowned, "You should bundle up, it's going to be a cold one today."
"Thanks for the warning."
He threw on an extra sweater and followed his "dad" out. They where a nice adoptive family. They always treated him as if he was their son. His parents had died when he was six and he had no other relatives to keep him. They had taken him in because he had used to play with their kids a lot. Now however they weren't his friends, they where his brother and his sister. He raced out of the room eager to get to the day ahead. As he was running, a shape burst out of the shadows yelling "boo!" He jumped into the wall behind him tumbling over laughing on the ground.
"Good one Sokka," he said smiling, "you really got me."
"Thank you, I've been practicing," he said grinning. He and Sokka walked to the kitchen and sat down ready to eat breakfast.
"Good morning Sokka, Good morning Nazca."
"Good morning Mom." they said in unison.
"So what are you going to do today?"
"We're going to go snowball fighting!" Katara exclaimed bounding out of the hall.
"Well remember to bundle up, today is supposed to be a cold one." Their dad said, following Katara out of the hall.
"Okay," Sokka mumbled, not wanting to put on all of the extra clothing. The three kids quickly ate their breakfast and got their coats on. Their mom did a last minute check and then they set out side to enjoy themselves on the beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly on the southern water tribe. As they walked through the snow they saw many of their friends.
"Do we really have to have a snowball fight today?" Sokka complained.
"Yes!" Katara said smiling. "We haven't had one in like a week." She pleaded feigning desperateness.
"Actually it was two days ago," Sokka mumbled, consenting to Katara's wishes.
Nazca kept quite. In fact he would have done almost anything with Katara. She was the nicest kid to him and he liked her. She was fun to hang around with and she was pretty.
"Don't you want to have a snowball fight?" Katara asked Nazca, interrupting his train of thought but sincerely wanting his opinion.
"Sure," Nazca shrugged.
"Awe, come on. You know he'll agree to do anything with you," Sokka whined.
Nazca flushed embarrassed. "No! I just want to have a snowball fight." he stammered. Sokka rolled his eyes knowing the truth behind the situation.
They went on and started playing even Sokka enjoying the fun. They were having so much fun that they almost didn't notice it. But they did. Nazca was the one who saw it first.
"What's up with the black snow?" he asked amused. Katara tasted it and spat.
"It's soot," she said confused. They sat there wondering but then Sokka figured it out.
"It's the fire nation," he whispered.
"I'm going to tell Mom and Dad," Katara said urgently getting up and running in the direction of their home.
Sokka took out his boomerang, ready for a fight. They were only twelve years old but they understood what and what the fire nation were. They were evil invading their tribe attempting to conquer the world. Seeing Sokka take out his weapon Nazca pulled out the knife that his dad had give his on his sixth birthday, his most prized possession. He was ready. The fire nation came in small battalions and was met by sparse, unorganized groups of men.
Nazca set his eyes on a lone soldier standing there and then charged. The soldier looked at the screaming kid and smiled. He waited with his armed outstretched ready to catch this kid running at him as if he was going to tackle him. Didn't he know better? However, what the soldier didn't see was that Nazca was concealing the knife under his sleeve and pulled it out at the last second plunging the blade through the man's heart.
He pulled the knife out and stood there staring his mouth gaping in realization of what he had just done. The man collapsed in front of Nazca. The snow quickly became stained crimson as the blood poured out of the wound.
"Kid," Nazca heard a voice say, as someone laid a hand on his shoulder. Nazca turned around dazed. "Kid." the man said again, "It's over, they're gone. Come on, let's take you home," he said lifting him up.
Nazca followed him blankly unsure of what had just happened his mind racing trying to process everything that had just occurred. Suddenly he snapped out of it and broke free of the man's grasp, sprinting away. He had killed. He had ended a man's life. A man who had brothers and sisters and a mother and a father. Tears began filling his eyes as the revelation of what he just did hit him. He cried for a while, his future crumbling before him. Then like a switch had been thrown he lost all feeling. He instantly stopped crying. Apathy struck. He realized the decisions he had made had been forced upon him. And now, now he was going to punish those who did this to him.
Their mom was gone. Taken. Kidnapped. Killed. Gone and not coming back. That was what Katara had told him when he finally came back to the house. She had run up to him crying, blubbering that she was gone. She sat down with him crying into his shoulder crying for at least ten minutes. He tried to comfort her by telling her it was going to be okay but they both knew that it wasn't. Nazca didn't cry. He was done crying. Being sad and sitting around wouldn't help, taking action would. He knew he could not forgive the bastards that had invaded his home, killed his parents and then came again and killed Katara's mom. He needed revenge and he was going to get it. As Katara's tears turned into sniffles he knew what he had to do. He rotated and turned to Katara. He looked her in the eye and said, "Katara, I know this is terrible time you, but I can't stay. My destiny takes me elsewhere and I must leave to avenge our tribe." Nazca the stood up, kissed her on the forehead and left.