Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ Prophesied ❯ For the Blood of a Woman Shed ( Chapter 17 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

“Alas, the gates of life never swing open except upon death, never open except upon the palaces and gardens of death. And the universe appears to me like an immense, inexorable torture-garden. Blood everywhere and, where there is most life, horrible tormentors who dig your flesh, saw your bones, and retract your skin with sinister, joyful faces.”

--Le Jardin des Supplices (The Torture Garden)by Octave Mirbeau

Chapter 17: For the Blood of a Woman Shed

Clouds still covered the sky from the harsh rain the night before. But where the sunlight broke through, it shone against the dew, giving a false promise of purity and innocence to the war-ridden world.

The Fire Navy ship plowed through the waters, spurred by the princess's orders. The princess herself was in a particularly foul mood, emphasized when a man was blown overboard by the bolt of lightning that connected with his chest.

“Why can't this thing go any faster?”

She shouted before returning to stand at the bow, refusing to admit her real reason for her incredibly bad mood, refusing to admit that she was worried.

Jet woke to find himself once again in the Fire Navy ship that belonged to Azula. Looking around he noticed that he was in the infirmary, a place he'd only seen once in his stay. A man with a kind face he recognized as the doctor was the first person he saw.

“Good, you're awake. Her Highness will be happy to know that.”

Instead of responding, Jet tried to think back, to remember. There was the battle, fighting, defending the wolf, and the blinding pain and darkness.

Assessing his situation, he found himself nearly naked beneath a silken blanket with most of his torso wrapped in stiff white bandages.

“What…?”

“You took quite a blow yesterday my lord.”

Jet sat up partially, trying to understand.

“How did I get here?”

The doctor frowned disapprovingly at him before answering.

“Her Highness carried you. And now you should rest.”

Jet stared at him unmoving.

“Azula? You are talking about Azula right?”

The doctor nodded and pushed him back down on the bed.

“Rest.”

Jet lay back on the bed, but his eyes stared at the ceiling above him, his thoughts in a whirl. He'd expected Azula to return to her ship, not chase after him. Why had she done so?”

“Drink.”

Jet did so without thinking what the doctor might have put in the water, and didn't resist the darkness when it crept upon him. Perhaps it was better than trying to figure that woman out.

Mamoru gritted his teeth and took another step. His eyes had long since been blinded by blood from a wound on his head, his long brown hair loose and flying disheveled around him. The dark green tunic he wore had gone to try and tie up Samir's wounds, and he took a moment to shift the Air God's body on his bare back.

Not bothering to waste his strength on words, he kept moving. His human body had far surpassed its limits and it was only his immortal spirit that kept him moving. The world was dark around him, but the scent of water drove him forward.

Water was release. Water was strength. Water was healing.

He heard voices around him, unable to see where his steps had taken him. Without warning, his strength failed him, and he fell to his knees, stopping from falling face first into the dirt with one hand, the other holding Samir on his back. Damn this human form! But in his true form, his wounds would drain him much faster due to the power needed.

You wonder now why our true form is harder to maintain than our human form.

“Oh my, look! Those men are very badly wounded!”

“We should get them to the healer's hut!”

“Don't touch me!” Mamoru hissed. Their religion depended upon the immortality of the gods; he could not let the people see them like this.

Why do we call it true anyway? You know it is a pseudonym. False, false, false.

The Fire God's voice rang in his ears.

“What are you talking about Agni?” he said through gritted teeth, ignoring the collective gasp around them.

That didn't use to be my name. Am I the only one who remembers? We were all human once. Well, not precisely, but just as weak, just as fragile. Once, we were all just the same as those who now fear us.

“I don't…remember…”

Of course you don't Moru. None of us do, not much anymore. It was too long ago. Before the benders, before the nations, before the gods…come on Moru, think!

Mamoru closed his eyes tightly, trying to tell Agni he was insane, but for some reason, he just couldn't deny his words.

“What are you trying to tell me?”

There are no pretenses in my words Moru.

The name echoed through his mind, as if unlocking hidden secrets, things he'd long forgotten, and a vision flashed before his mind.

Two men were walking down a long road, both wounded from the battle, but the war wasn't over. Two opposites, the two Elementals drove themselves onward.

“Will we find them Moru?”

“I'm sure we will Sirma.”

The one born of Air fell to his knees, tears falling to the packed dirt they walked on. He turned and looked down at the stilled wind.

“Don't lie to me! We can't do this! You know it! We're all going to die!”

“Shut up! That isn't true. We won't die, Corry and Coal won't let that happen, I promise you.”

“But Princess Amiera…”

“Is just a sorceress. Nothing more. We can beat her, I'll bet you anything.”

He knelt down and brushed his hair aside, offering his back.

“Here. I'll carry you for a bit.”

Sirma climbed on his back and rested his head on his shoulder.

“Thanks Moru.”

“No problem. Air Elementals are light anyway, aren't they? They can never pull their weight except in a high wind.”

Sirma chuckled and they continued on. “They'll be at the next village.”

He nodded. “Yes, just a little farther.”

He opened his eyes, seeing for the first time since the battle.

“What that us? Before?”

Just a little farther Mamoru.

Mamoru nodded. He shifted Samir's weight and slowly pushed himself to his feet once more. The villagers were standing around him and his eyes fell on them.

“Water, take me to water.”

No one moved, but a little girl ran out and stood in front of him.

“Follow me.”

She started walking and he followed her, steeling his grip on Samir's slipping body, forcing his own weakened body to keep moving forward. The girl walked at a slow pace, well, slow for her, but he could hardly bring himself to keep up.

The villagers were all around him, speaking soft encouragement but not moving to help him as if they knew that he must do this on his own.

Mamoru felt the water pooling around his ankles before anything else, and he looked up surprised. The young girl had led him right to the ocean. She was standing in the surf, watching him. He smiled at her and she laughed, turning to run to her mother.

Stepping forward, Mamoru carried Samir out into the water until it was nearly chest deep on him. He let Samir slide forward and pulled him around in front of him. The Air God floated in the water, guided and held up by Mamoru.

The water did not need Shasa's guidance to find them and give its gift of healing. The villagers gasped in awe as the water swirled around them, shining softly with its light.

Samir's eyes opened and he pulled away from Mamoru to slip under the water. He surfaced with an exuberant cry and Mamoru let the water heal his own wounds.

“Mamoru,”

He looked up to see Samir smiling at him.

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

Samir suddenly began looking past him and Mamoru followed his gaze and soon they were both looking back at the villagers. One man stepped out of the group, awe in his eyes, and knelt there before them on the beach. Soon the entire village was bowing to them.

Mamoru looked at Samir and Samir shrugged.

“Oops.”

Azula was at the stern training when the helmsman reported that they were coming up upon a Fire Nation ship and it had signaled for them to stop. As bad as she hated it, she nodded to the helmsman and felt the ship begin to slow.

A bolt of flame trembled at her fingertips.

“Who would dare to try and stop me?” She shouted before storming her way to the front of the ship.

She'd soon find out.

As the two ships pulled side by side, a man with the marks of an admiral stepped over to meet her.

“Ah, Princess Azula.”

Azula's eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

The man laughed lightly.

“Oh, of course, I've forgotten my manners. I am Admiral Min.”

“Why did you feel it necessary to stop me Admiral?”

He smiled. “A couple of things. First of all, I ask you to relinquish the bounty on the retired general Iroh, at your father's request.”

“That I find highly unlikely.”

Min pulled out a scroll. “If you need confirmation, I have your father's seal.”

Azula snatched the scroll and scanned over it, her eyes narrowing even more when she saw the seal of the Fire Lord at the bottom of the letter.

“And the second thing?”

Admiral Min turned and gestured to a hooded figure standing on his ship. The figure walked over calmly and stood by him, head held down. Min reached up and pulled down the person's hood, revealing a rather pretty Earth Kingdom woman.

“A maid to help your cook. He had been complaining, has he not? She's a gift, from me to you.”

Azula merely looked at him. The cook had been complaining recently, but how this man she'd never met before knew she didn't understand.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Azula sighed. “Indeed. What is her name?”

“She doesn't have one, but I've taken to calling her Kaia after the Earth Goddess.”

Min fondly reached up and brushed a strand of Kaia's hair behind her ear. Azula motioned behind her and two soldiers came up and escorted Kaia below deck. Min smiled after her.

“If she starts acting up, just send me a hawk.”

Azula frowned and did not respond.

“You shall drop the bounty?”

Azula nodded with her eyes still on the door where Kaia had disappeared. Min smiled knowingly, his amber eyes flickering to become solid black briefly before changing back.

“Good day, Your Highness.”

Min boarded his own ship and soon he was gone.

Kaia sat on the bed of her new quarters, tears spilling over her eyes as she stared blankly forward. Even now she could feel the chains around her soul that Eimin had locked there, their strength undeniable even as he drew further away.

How could I have been so foolish? Oh Alem, help me. Help us all.

Iroh was sitting in his room, quietly sipping jasmine tea as he plotted out the most possible locations for Zuko's twin. He believed that the midwife would not have gone far from the Fire Nation, not if she had worked there, and he'd begin his search at the Earth Kingdom cities of Sharra and Shian.

There was a knock at the door and Iroh called for them to come in. A soldier stepped in, bearing a hawk on his fist.

“A message for you General Iroh.”

Iroh nodded and took the message while the soldier took the hawk to a room where it could rest with the others. Slitting the seal, Iroh unrolled the scroll and scanned it. Soon his eyes were wide with surprise, but it was there in his hands.

Ozai wished for Zuko and him to return to the Fire Nation.

Instantly, Iroh's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Well, he was already headed in that direction, and Zuko was not with him, so he could not risk his nephew's life. He didn't care for his own; he could deal with his brother's armies in a heartbeat.

Standing swiftly, Iroh carried a message to the helmsman, a message that said to head for the Fire Nation capital of Sozun.

Azula headed downstairs to the infirmary to check on the rebel Jet. Upon seeing him lying motionless on the bed, her anger and frustration of moments before melted away. She quickly checked to make sure no one was around and sent the doctor on an errand, and then she took his place beside the fallen eagle.

A cool damp cloth found its way into her hands and she sponged his brow, absent-mindedly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. His hair was just as soft as she had thought.

“Why did you carry me back?”

Azula easily adapted surprise into exasperation.

“You are still necessary to my purposes.”

“You still need me.”

Azula snorted. “No, I need your information, your insight. You, on the other hand, I do not care for. Your attitude needs some work.”

Jet nearly sat up, but her hand on his chest held him still.

“My attitude? I have the heart of a saint compared to you.”

Azula smirked. “Yes, a real saint. Such a saint that you ran off like a fool yesterday into a battle you knew nothing about and all alone.”

Jet glared at her. “Why not alone? There was no one else.”

“There was me.” It was out before she could stop it, but she refused to let it seem like she hadn't meant to say it.

Jet sat up, despite the increased pressure on his chest. After a moment, she stopped pushing him down and let him sit as he pleased.

“You're going to reopen your wound.”

“The doctor will wrap it again. And what did you mean there was you? You don't care for me remember?”

She threw the cloth into the bowl, the water sloshing out over the table and she spun around to face him, their faces now less than two inches apart.

“We have a deal and that means we are partners! By my honor, I will be damned if I let you get yourself killed to get out of your end! I freed your precious valley; I might face hell for it later, so you will listen to me when I am looking out for your best interests! Yesterday you should've waited a moment so that I could've protected you! If I had been there…”

His lips descended on hers, aptly cutting off her words, and she knew not how to respond. By the time her thoughts had returned it was over.

“Why did you do that?” Azula inquired with a sharp edge to her voice.

Jet smirked. “Because I wanted to…and to shut you up.”

Azula stood pristinely, not having lost a single shred of her edge.

“Don't do it again.”

His voice followed her out into the hall.

“It won't happen again until you ask, Princess Azula.”

She let out a feral growl and slammed the door so hard that several glass vials in the infirmary smashed to the ground before she stalked off to train.

Ziri watched the sunrise with a feeling of apprehension. The sun was rising over his new home in the town of Sharra, and it should have given him hope. The people did not hate him because he was a fire-bender because he'd already given them reason to trust him. San would continue to teach him to use a bow and what they did after that was their own personal business.

But still, something didn't feel right.

General Zade guided his rhino from the ship and looked out over the army that the Fire Lord had given him control over. They would reach the nearest Earth Kingdom city, named Sharra, by noon. By mid-afternoon, nothing would be left of the second greatest city west of Ba Sing Se.

San was waiting for him outside the blacksmith shop and she stood and smiled when he appeared.

“Hey Ziri!”

He smiled and walked up to her. “Hey San.”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. “Come on, I'm going to teach you how to make arrows.”

The blacksmith barely glanced at the two as they gathered steel scraps from the floor and laughed their way through the conversation by the second forge. Soon, Ziri was hammering the scraps into shape while San took a hand file and sharpened the new arrowheads he produced.

“Why do you sharpen them by hand San?”

She looked at him and smiled. “Because you can never get them sharp enough with a forge.”

He smiled; his eyes on his work. After several moments, Ziri noticed that the strangely eerie scraping of San's file had stopped. Then he felt a soft fingertip tracing his scar. He yelped in surprise and jumped away, his eyes widening as they landed on hers.

San smiled sheepishly, staring at the floor. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “It's all right, you only startled me.”

This time his eyes stayed on hers as she slowly reached up and traced his scar with one hand. He'd never felt any shame connected with his scar. He barely cared about it, but it seemed to fascinate San.

“San,” he said softly, “We're wasting daylight.”

She started as if coming out of a deep trance. “Oh, right.”

And she went back to sharpening. After he'd made enough arrowheads he sat down beside her. They spent about an hour sharpening the arrowheads and tying them to the shafts of the arrows. After this San filled both her quiver and another one she produced from somewhere and she stood, pulling him up also.

“Come Ziri, there is something I want to give you.”

Katara awoke to find that she was no longer staring at the starry night sky, or even the bottom of the boat deck. Instead, the ceiling above her was made of pure ice.

She snapped up straight, the blue blankets pooling about her waist, and she was dressed only in her underclothes. A wave of cold air met her bare skin and she gave a feral growl.

Dressing as quickly as she could, Katara was soon racing out of her room and down the hall. She ran until she reached the window and gave a happy cry at the sight before her.

They'd made it to the North Pole.

“We made it! Zuko! We made…” she trailed off.

Zuko! Her mind supplied as she turned around and ran, calling his name as she ran. The first person she saw was Yue's father. She ran up to him, grabbing his arms and not caring who saw.

“Lady Katara…”

“Zuko,” She gasped out. “Zuko, where is he?”

“Who?”

“The fire-bender that was with me! Who else?”

The king flinched. “He is with Yugoda.”

Katara released him and flew out into the icy city, running to the hut where Yugoda held the healing lessons. She was there and so were the little girls, and so was Zuko, but Zuko was in far worse condition than she'd last seen him. He lay in the center of the ring on a thin blanket, devoid of nearly all clothing, and despite this he was covered in a thick sweat.

“Zuko!” she cried as she ran to him, kneeling beside his head as she shoved the girls away. Katara didn't even notice the chains binding his wrists and ankles to the ground or the guards in the shadows.

Yugoda touched her shoulder and Katara bit her lip. “Tell me true Yugoda. He is my friend.”

Yugoda sighed. “It is very bad. I have seen this only once before. This young bender has chosen to reject his inner fire, to refuse to use it, but he is too strong, and it is too much a part of him. The fire is building up within him, and it is killing him.”

A single tear fell from Katara's eyes to steam into nothingness on Zuko's cheek. She thought of all she had done to make him want to join them, and more tears followed.

“Can I do anything to save him?”

“You can do nothing. He must release his fire and understand that it is a part of him, not something he can refuse.”

The look on Katara's face hardened. “I have an idea.”

San led Ziri to her home and when they stepped inside Ziri couldn't help but look around in awe. The house was so pristine, elegantly simple, and yet so pure. She smiled at him, taking his hand and leading him down the hall to a small room.

“This was my father's study. He used to come here every night before he was killed by the Fire Nation.”

Ziri's gaze flitted from the writings on the desk on the far wall to the painted scroll hanging by the window.

“San,”

He turned to face her to find her holding a short blade, a kodachi, in her hands. The scabbard was a matte black, the elegantly woven grip gleaming against her hand. Several kanji were etched against the dark scabbard and San read them.

“May he who holds this protect the innocent around him.”

She held it out to him. “It can't protect anyone if it doesn't have a master.”

Ziri took a step back. “I can't, I don't know how to use it. You take it.”

San shook her head, her eyes filled with tears.

“No, it's a man's sword. I've tried to use it but I can't, it doesn't feel right. But I can teach you how to use it.”

Two tears spilled over from her unblinking eyes. “I don't want it to sit in here gathering dust. It was father's favorite.”

Ziri reached out and took the kodachi by the scabbard and in one swift movement he drew it out smoothly, the freshly polished blade reflecting his scar. There was a small ring on the end of the hilt and Ziri placed a finger through this ring, letting the blade slide and hang from this finger. It was an excellent blade for an archer.

San picked up a black obi and walked around Ziri as she tied the sash tightly around his waist.

After a moment of contemplation, Ziri sheathed the kodachi and tucked it into the obi, meeting San's teary gaze.

“I would be proud to wield your father's sword.”

She smiled and he started to lean in to kiss her when a sound from outside alerted them both and they ran out.

Zuko's eyes snapped open and for a brief moment he watched the icy ground pass away beneath him. He was being half carried/half dragged somewhere, and the sharpness of the cold air was around him. He was dressed in black hakama and a dark blue tunic with white trim.

Strong hands encircled his upper arms, dragging him along by them. What had he done, where was he, why was he being treated as a prisoner? Nothing felt right.

San and Ziri stared to the west where they could see a dark line of Fire Nation soldiers surfacing over the same hill that Ziri and Midori had crested almost a week ago. The guards were rushing to the western side of the city as villagers and merchants rushed inside the walls.

San quickly ran to her bird, swinging up on its back.

“Come Ziri! The guards may need us!”

Ziri shook his head, patting the bird's neck in front of San's leg.

“No, I have to find Midori first and make sure she's safe. You go, I'll find you!”

San nodded and urged the bird into a run. Soon she was lost from his view. Ziri ran towards Sharra, begging Midori to be safe.

General Zade smirked down at the city trying to prepare for his attack. They didn't know yet that there was nothing they could do.

The first wave of soldiers hit the city hard before the guard had even summoned itself. Tanks launched their hooks, snaking over the walls before people could beat them down. Fireballs made the earthen walls tremble and destroyed buildings easily.

Ziri ran through the city, turning only to let out sharp whistle, hoping that whom he was calling was within hearing distance. He was. Tokul, his great red elk, rushed into view, pounding around the bend. He caught the elk by the horns and pulled himself up easily, settling onto Tokul's back without hesitation.

Turning, they raced around soldiers and guards, women and merchants, fireballs and arrows, until Ziri saw a familiar elk with a familiar rider in the fleeing crowds.

Midori turned Zana, her elk, and their eyes met. He nodded to her, mouthing for her to go on, and she nodded. He watched for a moment as she gathered her reins and then she and Zana were gone, racing off into the woods.

Ziri turned Tokul back towards the battle. “Run Tokul!”

And Tokul did so, speeding through the city with agility that only an elk could possess in such a hysteric situation. Fleeing women and children were everywhere, but he saw no soldiers, not yet. He rushed through a hole in the breaking wall and then he was on the battlefield.

Zuko was roughly dropped into the snow, the sharp painful cold bringing him to consciousness. He raised his head and looked around, seeing only a blur of red. He blinked, and then realized that Fire Nation soldiers surrounded him.

But that didn't quite make sense. What would the Fire Nation be doing out here in the middle of nowhere? Hadn't they given up at the North Pole? Where was Katara? What had happened?

His gaze fastened on an older soldier, his grizzled white hair blowing softly in the wind.

“Well, if it isn't the banished young prince. You're a long way from home Prince Zuko.”

Zuko blinked, trying to raise his body on his hands, but wherever his strength was, it wasn't with him.

“If only your father could see what you've become, a sniveling weakling, ungrateful for and unworthy of the great gift the Fire Lord gave you, your fire.”

This time Zuko managed to push himself up to a kneeling position. He didn't feel sick, not like he had earlier. Now he only felt exhausted and oh, he was so hot. The sweat poured off of him like drops of blood. The Fire Prince was seconds from just laying there in the snow and letting it cool the fire in his veins, but the man's voice held him up.

“The Fire Lord, may he live long, was right to scar you. He showed the world what you really are. Nothing, nothing at all. Did you know that he wants you back in the Fire Nation? Yes, so you can't shame him anymore.”

Zuko didn't really care. He just hoped they'd kill him soon, and he wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

“Not only a coward, but now associating with Water Tribe peasants?”

Zuko's head shot up as two red-clad soldiers brought up a screaming and fighting Katara. Her clothes were torn and she was covered in dirt and dried blood, but her spirit was still there, shining in her eyes. Concern filled those sapphire orbs when she saw him.

“Zuko!”

“Katara!” he gasped out, his voice rasping.

“San!”

Ziri spotted her in the crowds of guards now beating back a battalion of Fire Nation soldiers, spitting off arrow after arrow into the fire-bending ranks. She turned and smiled at him before loosing another arrow. Tokul did not need to be urged forward, and Ziri drew the kodachi San had given him, his arm straightening out beside him as if the blade had a spirit of its own.

He was afraid. He could admit it. He was afraid for the first person that had befriended him thoughtlessly.

Zuko was afraid, something he hadn't been since he was fourteen, and he couldn't believe it, because he was afraid for Katara, his only friend.

The man laughed. “Apparently she means something to you.”

He walked over and traced Katara's cheek with an absent-minded hand.

“Tell me, my prince, is she a good lay?”

Zuko let out a feral growl as Katara lunged against the men holding her, her teeth snapping together inches from the hand of the man who'd touched her. The man slapped her, a strangled cry escaping her throat.

The man turned back to him, taking a few steps forward so he was directly in front of Zuko.

“You won't say? Perhaps we should delve into the matter ourselves. Perhaps I'll let my men take her, here and now, so you can hear her screams and know you can't help her. Then I'll kill her, and soak you in her blood so you know she's gone.”

Katara growled angrily, curses rolling from her mouth that Zuko didn't even know she knew. They held her wrists harshly so she couldn't bend, but if looks could kill the man would be dead. Another animalistic snarl tore from his throat, his eyes flashing as his hands curled into fists on his knees.

“Let her go.” This time Zuko's voice was strong, unwavering, every ounce the prince he was.

“Let her go. I do not care what becomes of me but let her go! She is nothing to you.”

The man grinned, but there was nothing pleasant in his smile.

“You can save her Prince Zuko.”

Zuko stared at him, puzzled, and the man's grin grew wider.

“Fight me for her life you ungrateful mongrel!”

He couldn't, he'd given up his fire. He had nothing left. He couldn't protect her. For the first time since his decision to reject his element, Zuko regretted it. The sorrow must've shown on his face, for the man shrugged.

“No? You won't fight? I should've expected as much.”

He turned to his men.

“Kill her.”

Zuko gave a strangled cry as he saw the man drag a blade across Katara's throat. She screamed, gurgling, her hand flying to her throat, red bursting through her fingers, and then she collapsed.

Ziri saw the arrow before San did, and his heart shattered when he saw it hit its target: San's throat. It burst through, lodging in the armor of a bird behind her, and it seemed time had slowed down as he leapt from Tokul and ran to her, catching her body before she hit the ground.

“San!”

She looked up at him with dying eyes, a slow film covering the beautiful hazel.

“San,” he whispered.

She reached up and touched his scarred cheek. “Ziri,”

And then her hand fell as her eyes closed and her head lolled against his arm, his chest and arms now covered in her blood.

Ziri stared around him at the death and destruction, his heart refusing to acknowledge the death nearest him, the death in his arms. He was afraid, he'd always been afraid, and he'd let it keep him from what he could've done, what he should've done.

“The city…” he whispered. “The city is falling, but still I stand.”

He gritted his teeth, standing, with San's body in his arms.

“No longer!” he shouted, his spirit soaring over the highest fence a body could defeat: fear.

He placed San on the ground, positioning her hands over her stomach, and then he slipped her quiver over his shoulders and took up her bow. Turning, his eyes blazed in the noon sun.

“To me Tokul!”

The elk raced up and he quickly lighted on his back. Dipping back behind the elk's huge antlers, he closed his eyes tightly, slowly feeling the heat well up within him as it had never before, feeling the same presence he'd felt the night before on the beach when he'd called to the night sky.

Zuko saw red flashing, his eyes tightly closed, his nails digging their beds into the palms of his hands until flecks of red stained the pure white snow. He felt a spirit, a presence far to the southwest, the same he'd felt on the boat, lending him strength.

He did not know when he'd gotten to his feet, he only knew he had.

Two spirits, two souls became one, joined by the bond of birth, unbreakable by any save death itself.

Flames licked up Zuko's arms, covering them up to his shoulders, the dark blue tunic smoldering. He did not see the fear or awe in the man's eyes, or the others suddenly backing away. He did not hear the soldier who had slit Katara's throat whisper, “Have we gone too far Pakku?”

He did not see the wall of ice go up between him, the man called Pakku, and the people around them.

Ziri strung the bow in one deft movement, drawing an arrow without hesitation. Tokul turned at the prodding of his knee and ran directly towards one of the tanks. The feather of the arrow tickled his cheek, his eyes seeing into the darkness of the hole in the front of the tank, seeing the fire-bender and yet not seeing him, knowing he was there because the presence told him that he was.

The arrow flew, bursting through the skull of the hidden fire-bender and on through, the steel arrowhead piercing the engine and the entire tank exploded. Tokul leapt through the cloud of steel and flame, landing easily on the other side. Ziri was not even jarred, another arrow already against the string, ready.

General Zade turned from the smoldering ash of the Earth Kingdom warrior he'd just killed at the touch of one of his soldiers.

“There my lord!”

They watched in awe as the boy on the red elk let another arrow fly, tearing straight through the eye socket of an officer and lodging in the throat of the soldier behind him.

“He's killing our officers!” Zade hissed. “He knows how we operate!”

He turned, addressing his army.

“Sons and daughters of fire! Kill the one on the elk!”

Zuko's mind was pure white, completely blank save for him and his opponent. There was nothing in his heart but pure rage. Sorrow would come later, but he'd never been so angry and yet so calm, so calculating. He saw every move his opponent made as if in slow motion, as if the man were coming from a thousand miles away.

All he wanted to do was kill this man, and make him suffer.

Katara raised her head slightly, still within the wall of ice Pakku had erected, and she was awed by what she saw. She'd never seen Zuko fight like this before. The flames were all around him and Pakku, but he didn't wield them, he guided them, as a dancer would guide their partner.

The last move of the elaborate dance before her played in slow motion, Zuko moving more as a water-bender than a fire-bender, with grace rather than ferocity. The flames flickered off the tips of his fingers as he guided them with open palms.

Then time sped up and the swirling vortex of flame that Zuko had created was slowly smothering Pakku.

Ziri didn't know when he was separated from Tokul, only that he hit the ground fighting, the kodachi snaking from its sheath and into his hand, slicing cleanly as if he'd used it all his life. Soon his dark green clothes were soaked black with blood, the blade covered in it, as well as his face and arms. Even his loose hair dripped with it.

His finger was looped through the ring of the kodachi as he set another arrow and let it fly, searing another fire-bender from life. Even as the arrow flew he spun, bringing the kodachi up to tear through the throat of another. The hot blood of the fire-bender sprayed over him and he closed his eyes, protecting his sight.

He blinked, clearing his vision, nearly all thought gone from his mind. Rage was now; pain was later. He barely registered seeing his left pointer and middle fingers broken and hanging at an odd angle from his hand and pushing them into place over the bow as he drew another arrow.

A soldier centered in his vision and he didn't hesitate as he brought the bow up and let the arrow fly. The soldier had been in the process of screaming his death when the arrow struck him in his open-mouth. Whether the fire-bender choked on his own blood or the arrow itself, Ziri didn't quite care.

Just as suddenly as this all had begun, pain exploded behind his eyes and he fell forward, his hands instinctively clutching on his weapons. He felt himself caught by a strong arm across his chest, and then the darkness took him.

Zade stared at the boy now hanging limply over his arm. Slowly, almost reverently, Zade grabbed the boy's hair and jerked his head back to see his face, and then he nearly dropped him.

“Prince Zuko!” he gasped out.

Without a second thought, he took the boy's kodachi, bow, and quiver before throwing him over his shoulders. He called one of his captain's to him. Despite the prince's flawless fighting, the city was still falling.

To his captain, he spoke. “We've got them on the run now. Move into the city. Kill all in your path.”

Then Zade turned, mounted his rhino, and headed back to the ships. Fire Lord Ozai would be glad to have his son back where he could keep an eye on him.

Katara watched as the tornado of fire with Pakku at its vortex grew with each steady breath Zuko took. She looked at Zuko and could see the conflict growing in his eyes.

Kill him, kill him for what he did to her, kill him for all he'll do...

Even murder to avenge a friend is still murder. I can't kill him...

Kill him!

No!

Zuko bared his teeth, fighting the need to kill the man before him, the need to feel his life fade from the earth. Suddenly, he felt the man passing, felt it strong in his mind, felt his last thoughts speeding through his suddenly tortured mind.

“No!” Zuko screamed, tearing his arms back.

The vortex exploded outward and Katara gave a short cry, burying her face in the snow as the flames flew harmlessly over her head. Pakku sucked in a breath as the wall of ice melted with the force and power of the fire released.

Katara pushed herself up, and saw Zuko on one knee, his face downward, panting. She ran to him.

Zuko looked up when she touched his arm, and then looked around. Those he had thought were Fire Nation soldiers were actually Water Tribesmen in very old Fire Nation armor. The old man he'd fought was the master water-bender that had Katara had told him about.

Katara.

She was there, beside him, alive. Her throat was covered in red paint, but she was no worse for wear.

“Zuko,” She whispered. “I'm sorry, but we had to help you. You can't let go of your fire.”

“My fire saved you today.”

Katara nodded and something within Zuko snapped; he was so tired, the rage and power of the moments before gone. He reached out, grabbed Katara's shoulders, and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. A moment later she had embraced him as well and they sat there in the snow, oblivious to everyone around them.

“Don't do that again.” He said with every ounce of royal blood in him.

Katara smiled against him. She really would have to teach him to ask and not demand, but not now.

“I did it because you are my friend Zuko.”

She stood and pulled him up with her. He followed her without question as she led him over to the man who had feigned to slit her throat. She released his hand and took that of the man, smiling.

“Zuko, this is my father, Hakoda.”

The Fire Nation soldiers raced through the woods after the girl on the red elk. Despite their size, the rhinos managed to keep pace with the elk, never letting it gain any ground. Without warning they burst from the woods, barely able to stop before crashing into the river.

The soldiers saw the girl pulling herself and the elk across the river on a ferry. They looked to their lieutenant.

“Destroy it.”

Five simultaneous fireballs flew through the air and the ferry exploded with the girl and the elk on board.