Chapter 7: Devastation

AN: Whew, this was a tough one to write. Just a small warning that this chapter is a little heavy, but nothing too extreme. Thank you to everyone again who takes their time to read and review! Look forward to Chapter 8 being posted on Saturday.

Aang felt his stomach drop as he stepped into the room, the warmth from his time with Katara evaporating in an instant. The tension was thick, wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket. Kya's eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks stained with tears. Hakoda stood behind her, his hands resting gently on her shoulders as if trying to anchor her to the present. Sokka, usually the source of lighthearted banter, sat in uncharacteristic silence, his face pale.

"What's going on?" Aang asked, his voice small and uncertain.

Hakoda took a deep breath, his grip on Kya's shoulders tightening slightly. "Aang, there's something you need to know."

Aang's heart raced as he waited for Hakoda to continue. He felt Katara's presence beside him, her hand brushing against his arm in a silent offer of comfort.

Hakoda reached into his tunic and pulled out a weathered piece of parchment, the edges crumpled from being handled too many times. "This letter arrived just now, and it was sent on the day of the Great Comet. It's from the Northern Water Tribe."

Aang's eyes widened. The Northern Water Tribe? What could they possibly have to say that would bring so much grief to this family?

Hakoda's voice was steady but heavy with sorrow as he spoke. "The letter was from one of their scouts, someone who was near the Northern Air Temple at the time of the Fire Nation's attack."

Aang's breath hitched. He could feel the blood draining from his face, his limbs growing cold. "The Northern Air Temple?"

"They witnessed the attack, Aang," Hakoda continued, his tone gentle but firm. "They saw the Fire Nation's forces descend upon the temple… and they witnessed the destruction that followed. The Air Nomads… they were… they were wiped out, Aang. The temple was destroyed."

Kya sobbed quietly, burying her face in her hands as Sokka placed a reassuring hand on her back. Aang, however, felt like he'd been struck by a physical blow. His knees wobbled, and he reached out to steady himself against the wall.

"No…" Aang whispered, his voice trembling. "No, that can't be true. The Air Nomads… they… they can't be gone…"

Hakoda's face was etched with grief, but his eyes held a deep, unwavering sadness. "I'm so sorry, Aang. But it's true. The Air Nomads are gone."

Aang's mind raced, trying to grasp the enormity of what he was hearing. The Northern Air Temple had fallen—if that was true, then what about the others? "If the Northern Air Temple was attacked, then… then what about the Eastern and Western temples?" His voice was rising, a desperate hope clinging to his words.

Hakoda's silence was enough. Aang's heart sank as the implications crashed down on him. "They were attacked too, weren't they?"

Hakoda nodded solemnly, confirming Aang's worst fears. "The Fire Nation's forces were relentless. If they struck the Northern and Southern Air Temples, it's almost certain that they would have targeted the Eastern and Western ones as well."

Aang felt a crushing weight settle over him, pressing down on his chest until it was hard to breathe. The joy and warmth he'd felt earlier that day seemed like a distant memory, swallowed by the grief and horror of the news he'd just received.

"I'm… I'm the last one," Aang choked out, the reality of his situation hitting him like a tidal wave. "I'm the last Airbender."

Hakoda nodded once more, his eyes filled with sorrow. "Yes, Aang. As far as we know… you're the last."

Katara's gasp broke the silence, and when Aang looked at her, her eyes were already brimming with tears. "Aang…" she whispered, her voice breaking. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm, the warmth of her touch contrasting the cold that had settled in his heart.

Aang didn't know what to say, what to think. He felt like the ground beneath him had been ripped away, and he was falling into an abyss. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, struggling to keep himself together. But when he looked into Katara's eyes, saw the sadness and empathy there, he felt something inside him shatter.

He was not alone, but the weight of being the last of his kind was almost too much to bear.

Katara's tears began to fall, silent at first, then with a quiet sob. Kya wrapped her arms around her daughter, tears of her own streaming down her face. Hakoda's expression was grim, his usual strength and resolve barely holding together in the face of the tragic news. Even Sokka, always quick with a joke or a smirk, sat silently, his eyes downcast.

Aang's heart ached at the sight of Katara's tears, and he found himself leaning into her, needing the comfort of her presence. She held him, her grip tight, as if she could shield him from the devastating truth with nothing more than her embrace.

There were no words left. Only the hollow echo of the reality that had been thrust upon them.

The world had changed. Aang was the last Airbender.

And the war, it seemed, was only just beginning.

General Tairo stood at the bow of the Fire Nation's sleekest warship, the wind tugging at his cape as the vessel sliced through the cold waters of the Southern Seas. His mind was sharp, focused on one thing—the Avatar. The comet had passed, the Air Nomads had been wiped out, and the Fire Lord's plans were in motion. But one loose thread remained, one threat that could unravel everything: the Avatar.

Beside him, his most trusted lieutenants, Captain Shen and Lieutenant Ryoko, waited for his command, their eyes filled with the same determination that burned within Tairo.

"The Avatar Shrine at the Fire Nation lit up the moment the Avatar State was triggered," Tairo began, his voice low and measured. "The reports suggest that this occurred at the Southern Air Temple."

Captain Shen nodded, brow furrowed in thought. "The Avatar is most likely an Airbender, then. If the Southern Air Temple was where the Avatar State occurred, it's possible that he could still be in the area."

"Precisely," Tairo said. "The Southern Air Temple is our first destination. If the Avatar was there recently, we may find some clues or traces left behind. If not… we'll head to the nearest possible location where he might have sought refuge."

Ryoko stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she considered the possibilities. "The closest significant location to the Southern Air Temple would be Kyoshi Island. It's remote, with a small population. If the Avatar is trying to avoid detection, it would be a strategic place to hide."

Tairo nodded. "Good. Once we've checked the temple, we'll set course for Kyoshi Island. The Avatar won't be able to hide from us for long."

The general's gaze turned toward the horizon, where the faint outline of mountains could be seen in the distance. The Southern Air Temple was close. Tairo's jaw tightened. He was under no illusions about the importance of his mission. The Fire Lord had entrusted him with the task of eliminating the last threat to their dominance, and failure was not an option.

"Prepare the men," Tairo ordered. "We arrive at dawn. And remember, the Avatar is the priority. Capture if possible, but if he resists…"

His voice trailed off, the unspoken command hanging heavy in the air. His lieutenants understood. They were the Fire Nation's elite, and they knew what was at stake.

As they moved to relay the orders, Tairo remained at the bow, his eyes never leaving the horizon. The hunt for the Avatar had begun, and he would not stop until the job was done.

Back in the dimly lit home of the Southern Water Tribe, the weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air. Katara held Aang close as he trembled in her arms, her own tears falling silently onto his robes. Sokka's face was tight with shock, while Kya continued to sob quietly, her hands covering her mouth. Hakoda stood rigid, his fists clenched at his sides, trying to maintain composure for the sake of his family.

The room was thick with sorrow, the air almost too heavy to breathe. Aang's mind swirled with the implications of the devastating news. The Northern and Southern Air Temples were gone, and if they had been attacked… that meant the Eastern and Western Air Temples were likely destroyed as well.

He was the last.

This realization crashed over him like a tidal wave. His chest tightened, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the truth took hold. Katara felt him tense in her arms, his grip on her loosening as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

"Aang…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry…"

But her words were lost in the torrent of emotions that surged within him. With a sudden, anguished cry, Aang broke free from Katara's embrace, stumbling back as tears streamed down his face. His vision blurred, and he turned on his heel, bolting out the door and into the frigid night.

"Aang, wait!" Katara cried, starting to run after him, but Hakoda's strong hand caught her arm, pulling her back.

"Let him go, Katara," Hakoda said firmly, though his voice was strained. "He needs time."

"But he's all alone out there!" Katara protested, her heart aching as she struggled against her father's grip. "He shouldn't be alone!"

"He's not in the right mind to talk right now," Hakoda replied, his voice edged with concern. "He needs space to process this. Chasing after him will only overwhelm him more."

Katara stared at her father, torn between the urge to comfort Aang and the understanding that Hakoda might be right. She bit her lip, her hands trembling as she reluctantly stopped struggling. Her eyes were fixed on the dark doorway, every instinct telling her to go after Aang, to be there for him. But Hakoda's grip was gentle but unyielding.

Sokka, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his voice tense. "So what do we do? We can't just let him wander around out there forever."

Kya wiped her tears and looked up, her voice shaky. "He needs to be somewhere safe. Somewhere where he can heal, where we can help him figure out what to do next."

Hakoda nodded, releasing Katara's arm as he addressed the family. "We have to think carefully. Aang is the Avatar, and that makes him a target for the Fire Nation. If they find out he's here—"

"Then we fight," Sokka interjected, his voice filled with determination. "We protect him."

Hakoda sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "We're not equipped to fend off a full-scale Fire Nation attack, Sokka. We have to think about what's best for Aang and the tribe."

Katara's eyes flashed with a mix of fear and resolve. "He's not just the Avatar—he's our friend. We can't just send him away. He needs us."

"I know," Hakoda said softly, his gaze softening as he looked at his daughter. "But we need to think about what he needs most right now. He's lost everything, and that kind of pain… it can break a person."

Kya nodded in agreement, her voice gentle. "Maybe there's a place we can take him, somewhere he can find peace while he decides what to do."

The room fell into a heavy silence as the family considered their options, their hearts heavy with worry and fear. Katara glanced out the door, her heart aching for Aang. The image of him running off into the darkness haunted her, and she desperately wished she could go after him, to tell him he wasn't alone, that they would find a way through this together.

Finally, Hakoda spoke again, his voice filled with the quiet authority of a leader. "We'll give him time to come back on his own. When he does, we'll make sure he knows we're here for him. But we need to be ready to leave, to take him somewhere safe if it comes to that."

Katara nodded, though her heart still pulled in the direction Aang had fled. "I just want him to know we care," she whispered.

"He knows, Katara," Kya said softly, placing a comforting hand on her daughter's shoulder. "And we'll make sure he never forgets that."

They all nodded in agreement, but the tension in the room remained, thick and suffocating. Aang's absence was a gaping wound in their hearts, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead loomed over them all.

As the night deepened, the family's thoughts were consumed with worry for Aang, their fears and hopes intertwining as they waited for him to return, each of them silently praying that they would find a way to help the boy who carried the world on his shoulders.

The quiet of the night settled over the Southern Water Tribe, the icy winds whispering through the village as everyone drifted into a restless sleep. The small home where Katara and her family lived was still, the flickering candlelight having long since faded. But despite the silence, Katara lay awake, her eyes wide open as she stared at the ceiling.

She tried to close her eyes, tried to push away the image of Aang's tear-streaked face as he ran off into the night, but it haunted her. Every time she shut her eyes, she saw him, alone and hurting, the weight of his grief threatening to crush him. Her heart ached with every beat, the pull to find him growing stronger with each passing moment.

Katara couldn't take it any longer. She couldn't just lie there, knowing that Aang was out there, broken and alone. Throwing off her blankets, she quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her family. She glanced at Sokka, who was sound asleep, snoring softly, and then at her parents, who were huddled together for warmth.

With a final look back, Katara grabbed her parka and slipped out of the house, the cold night air biting at her skin as she stepped outside. The village was eerily quiet, the snow crunching under her feet as she made her way through the familiar pathways.

Her first thought was to check the place where they had been practicing waterbending earlier that day. It seemed like a spot Aang might go to clear his mind, to try and find some peace in the chaos of his thoughts. But when she reached the small clearing by the frozen river, it was empty, save for the faint traces of their footprints in the snow.

Katara bit her lip, glancing around the darkened village. Where else would he go? She knew Aang didn't know the Southern Water Tribe well, but maybe he had found somewhere secluded, a place where he could be alone with his thoughts.

She tried the outskirts of the village next, where the icebergs jutted out of the frozen waters, their sharp edges glinting in the moonlight. But again, there was no sign of him. The cold seemed to seep into her bones as she continued searching, her heart pounding with both fear and determination.

The night wore on, the hours ticking by as Katara checked every possible place she could think of. She even ventured near the edge of the village, where the land met the icy ocean, but still, there was no sign of Aang. The chill of the wind stung her cheeks, and her breath came in short, visible puffs as she called out his name, the sound echoing into the emptiness.

Just as she was beginning to lose hope, Katara made her way to the village's central igloo, the place where the tribe often gathered for meetings. It wasn't a place she would have expected Aang to go, but something told her to check it anyway.

As she approached, her heart leaped in her chest. There, huddled against the wall of the igloo, was a small figure in orange robes. His head was bowed, his shoulders shaking slightly as he sat alone in the snow.

"Aang," Katara whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she realized she had finally found him.

She stood there for a moment, her heart swelling with a mix of relief and sorrow. Aang looked so small, so vulnerable, like a child lost in a world that had become too big and too harsh. The sight of him, sitting there alone, broke something deep inside her.

Katara took a slow, steady breath, gathering her courage as she stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Aang's slumped form. She was careful not to make too much noise, not wanting to startle him, but her heart pounded loudly in her ears, each beat echoing her deep concern for him.

As she drew nearer, the soft glow of the moonlight revealed the tear stains on his cheeks, the look of utter despair on his face. A lump formed in Katara's throat, and she hesitated, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to reach out to him in his moment of deepest pain. But she knew she had to try.

Katara knelt beside Aang, her heart heavy with the weight of what she was about to say. The air was thick with unspoken words, the silence between them almost unbearable. She reached out, her hand hovering just above his shoulder, unsure if she should touch him, unsure if he would even want her there.

"Aang," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the howling wind. "Please, come back home with me."

Aang didn't respond at first. He kept his gaze fixed on the ground, his eyes filled with a deep, immeasurable sadness. Katara could see the turmoil in his expression, the way his hands were clenched into fists as if he were holding onto something he couldn't let go of.

"I... I can't, Katara," he finally said, his voice trembling. "I don't know how to face them. I don't know how to face myself."

Katara's heart broke at the sound of his voice, so full of pain and self-doubt. She wanted to pull him into her arms, to hold him until all his hurt melted away, but she knew it wasn't that simple. "Aang, you're not alone in this. We all want to help you, to be there for you. But we can't do that if you keep running away."

Aang shook his head, his breathing uneven as he tried to hold back the tears. "But I am alone. I'm the last Airbender, Katara. The last one. I was there! I should have protected my own home... I don't know what to do. How can I go back with you, knowing that I've failed everyone? That I've failed the entire world?"

His words hit Katara like a punch to the gut, but she refused to back down. "Aang, you didn't fail anyone. The Fire Nation did this. They're the ones responsible, not you. You're just a child and they took you all by surprise. How could you have stopped it?"

"I should have found a way!" Aang's voice cracked, the rawness of his emotions spilling over as he finally looked up at her, his eyes filled with anguish. "I should have found a way to protect them. My people, my family... they're all gone because of me."

Tears welled up in Katara's eyes as she watched him struggle with his guilt. She couldn't bear to see him like this, so lost and broken. "Aang, you can't carry this burden alone. You're not responsible for what happened, and you're not alone in this fight. Please, come back with me. Let us help you. Let me help you."

But Aang shook his head again, pulling away from her. "I don't deserve your help, Katara. I don't deserve any of this. I can't go back. I can't face them, knowing that I couldn't save anyone."

"Aang, please," Katara pleaded, her voice trembling as she fought to keep her emotions in check. "We need you. I need you. I can't stand seeing you like this, pushing everyone away when we all care about you so much. You're not alone. I'm here, right now, and I'm not going anywhere."

Aang stared at her, his eyes glistening with tears, as if he were searching for something—hope, forgiveness, anything that could ease the pain in his heart. But all he could feel was the overwhelming weight of his guilt, the crushing realization that everything he once knew was gone forever.

"You don't understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You don't know what it's like to be the last of your kind, to have everything taken from you. I don't know how to keep going, Katara. I don't know how to be the Avatar when I've already failed so badly."

Katara's tears spilled over as she reached out to him again, this time taking his hands in hers. "Aang, I may not understand everything you're going through, but I do know that you're not defined by this. You're more than just the Avatar. You're Aang, and you're my friend. My best friend. And I can't stand by and watch you destroy yourself over something that wasn't your fault."

Aang looked down at their joined hands, his resolve wavering. "But what if I fail again? What if I can't live up to what everyone expects of me?"

Katara squeezed his hands tightly, her voice firm despite the tears streaming down her face. "Then we'll face it together. We'll figure it out, step by step, and you won't have to do it alone. But running away, pushing us all away—that's not the answer, Aang. Please, come back home with me."

For a long moment, Aang didn't say anything. The silence between them stretched on, heavy with the weight of everything that had been said. Then, finally, he looked up at her, his expression full of sorrow and uncertainty.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Okay, I'll come back."

Katara exhaled a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, relief washing over her. She gently pulled Aang into a hug, holding him close as he finally allowed himself to cry, the weight of his grief pouring out of him in deep, shuddering sobs.

And Katara held him, tears streaming down her own face, as they both knelt there in the snow, sharing in the pain, but also in the hope that together, they might find a way forward.

As Aang and Katara approached the small house, the warm glow of light spilling from a single window cast a soft halo around the doorway. The night was still, the only sounds were the gentle crunch of snow beneath their feet and the distant lapping of waves against the shore. Katara tightened her grip on Aang's hand, her heart heavy with the emotions of the evening.

When they reached the door, Katara hesitated before pushing it open. The warmth of the room enveloped them, a stark contrast to the cold outside. Sokka was sitting by the fire, his face etched with worry, his usually boisterous demeanor subdued.

He looked up as they entered, and relief washed over his features. "There you guys are," he said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the crack in his voice. "I was starting to think I'd have to come looking for you."

Katara gave him a small, weary smile, but it was Aang who stepped forward, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sokka… I'm sorry."

Sokka stood up, shaking his head. "Don't apologize, Aang. You don't have to be sorry for anything." His voice was thick with emotion, and for a moment, he struggled to find the right words. "We're in this together. We're your family now. You don't have to carry this burden alone."

Aang's eyes filled with tears again, and he looked at Sokka, his expression raw and vulnerable. "I don't want to lose anyone else."

Sokka's own eyes glistened, and he pulled Aang into a tight embrace. "You won't, Aang. We're not going anywhere. We're in this together."

Katara stepped closer, wrapping her arms around both of them, tears streaming down her face as she whispered, "We're here for you, Aang. Always."

The three of them stood there, holding each other as the weight of the world pressed down on them. But in that moment, they found strength in each other's presence, a bond forged not just by fate, but by the love and trust they shared.

Aang felt the warmth of their embrace seep into his soul, a small flicker of hope igniting within him. He wasn't alone. He had Katara, Sokka, and their family. And together, they would face whatever came next.

As the fire crackled softly beside them, the three of them held on, letting the tears flow freely. It was a moment of vulnerability, of shared grief and pain, but also of love and unity.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they pulled back, wiping their eyes and taking a deep breath. The weight of the night's events still hung in the air, but the immediate storm of emotions had subsided.

Sokka, always the one to break the tension, offered a small, comforting smile. "You should get some sleep, Aang. It's been a long day."

Aang hesitated, glancing at the small room where he slept. The thought of being alone in the dark, surrounded by the echoes of his memories, filled him with anxiety. His heart raced at the idea of facing the night by himself, the silence only amplifying his fears.

Katara noticed the worry flickering in his eyes and immediately understood. She exchanged a glance with Sokka, who nodded in agreement.

Without a word, Sokka walked over to his cot and began dragging it across the floor, positioning it next to Aang's bed. "Scoot over, Aang. Looks like you're getting roommates tonight."

Katara followed suit, moving her own cot until it was on the other side of Aang's bed. "We'll stay with you," she said softly, her voice full of warmth. "You're not alone, Aang. We're right here."

Aang looked at them, his eyes filling with a new wave of tears, but this time they were tears of gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Thank you so much."

Sokka grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, no big deal. Just try not to snore too loud, okay?"

Katara laughed softly, the sound comforting in the quiet room. "We'll be right here if you need us," she reassured him.

Aang climbed into bed, his heart still heavy but now soothed by the presence of his friends. As he lay down, Sokka and Katara settled into their cots beside him, the warmth of their friendship wrapping around him like a blanket.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Aang didn't feel the crushing weight of loneliness pressing down on him. He wasn't alone anymore. Katara and Sokka were with him, and they weren't going anywhere.

As the night deepened, the three of them lay close together, the rhythmic sound of their breathing filling the room. Aang closed his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a small sense of peace. The road ahead was still uncertain, but with Katara and Sokka by his side, he might just be able to face it. He wasn't alone anymore. He had a family.

And with that comforting thought, Aang drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth and love of his newfound family.