Katara: The World's Lost Hope

A Search for the Avatar

A wave of fire roars above the heads of two men. They crouch, and return their own blows, but the boy they are fighting easily dodges the attack. The boy sends more blasts of fire their way, and the men eventually fall to the ground.

"Again," says an old man sitting nearby.

"Uncle, I'm ready for more advanced techniques!" the boy yells. "If I find the Avatar, I will need to be able to do more than just these basics!"

"Prince Zuko," the man begins, "you must first master these basics before you can learn the advanced techniques. Remember to focus on your breathing; that is where your strength comes from."

"I am breathing!" Zuko yells as small blasts of fire shoot from his fists. He storms off to the edge of the ship, looking out across the ocean. Noticing his nephew's distress, the man walks towards him.

"Zuko," he begins, "the Avatar has not been seen in nearly 100 years. Why don't you take a break and drink this tea with your uncle."

"That's easy for you to say," Zuko growls. "Your honor does not depend on you capturing the Avatar." Zuko continues to stare out across the ocean. "He has to be out there somewhere. I will find him." Zuko's fists clench at his sides, wondering how the Avatar could evade the Fire Nation for so long. Maybe he really was dead, and Zuko was meant to never return home, to never have his honored restored. Impossible. His father would never give him an impossible task. His father would never banish him forever. He lets out a breath of frustration, but then returns to his training.

A few hours later, a man approaches the group, interrupting their training.

"General Iroh, P-prince Zuko?" the man stutters, looking timidly at the prince.

"What?" Zuko growls.

"We, well, we have a rat infestation. They contaminated most of food, and it was thrown out."

"What! Isn't it someone's job to inspect our food and storage areas to ensure this doesn't happen?" Zuko yells. "We are in the middle of the ocean! There are no nearby ports! We're going to starve because some scum can't do his job."

"Prince Zuko," Iroh begins, "it was but a small mistake. There is bound to be a village nearby, and we can get  the supplies we need there."

"Where's the nearest land?" Zuko barks at the man.

"The South Pole, sir. We are nearest the Southern Water Tribe."

"Tell the captain to change our course, and tell the men to prepare for a raid." The man nods at the prince and eagerly runs out of sight. Zuko sighs.

"There is no threat from the Southern Water Tribe," Iroh tells the prince. "Are you sure it is wise to treat this as a raid and not just trade with the people?"

"If they aren't a threat, then it shouldn't matter. We'll take what we need and leave. I'm not worried about a bunch of women and children."

"It is your decision, Prince Zuko, but do not underestimate the passion and pride of the Water Tribe."

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Katara stands at the water's edge, practicing a simple exercise of pushing and pulling the water like the tides. Her weight shifts from one foot to the other as she sways with the water. The waves get bigger and bigger until Katara's concentration is broken by the sound of footsteps behind her. She turns to see Gran-Gran shuffling towards her.

"Your bending is improving," Gran-Gran says to Katara. They both look out across the ocean, lost in their own thoughts.

"I'm leaving tonight," Katara says. It has been a week since her dream with the serpent, and since then, she's been spending her days and nights bending, preparing. There was still much Katara couldn't do, but she understood better the ways to feel and understand the element. Katara's eyebrows knit together. The solstice is in three days, and Katara wasn't sure what would happen at the ruined air temple. She just knew she needed to be there.