Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ Wind Blown Ashes ❯ Wind Blown Ashes ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: crescentmoon 
Please review!
Non Anime: Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Romance / Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.01.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 4.9K | Visits: 870 | Status: Completed
Please review!
Non Anime: Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Romance / Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.01.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 4.9K | Visits: 870 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I don’t own Avatar: The Last Air-bender, the very talented team of Mike and Brain own the show and characters. The rating maybe wrong but I did try to get it right.
By: year of the snake (at fanfiction) aka. crescentmoon (at mediaminer). And now Opal-Dreams on DeviantArt.
Wind Blown Ashes
…she had heard about rumors of rebellion……but she did not realize how serious it was. None of them did.
Until the day Zuko died.
The day is a vague blur to her.
Three fire-benders were attacking the great general, the Dragon of the West. Yet the old man was winning. The only thing was they were keeping him occupied and distracted. So he didn’t notice when two more fire-benders snuck behind him. Fortunately for the man someone else, an ally, did.
Zuko ran forward his feet racing beyond his control, each pound of his feet on the ground hit faster then it took his heart to beat. That was some feat because his heart outraced even his instincts. He ignored his own opponents.
He jumped between his uncle and the two lightening blasts to his rear. At the same time they were fired two of the three men to Iroh’s front shot lightening at him and the other man sent a bomb of fire. Iroh managed to block the fire and redirect the lightening but he had no way of knowing that his nephew saved him. He would never have guessed that someday Zuko might need to redirect multiple strands of lightening. Iroh never knew until it was to late. Life dealt Iroh a terrible blow in his old age. The worse surprise that could possibly come to a man with ‘only one surprise left’.
The Fire Lord was down… he took two fatal shocks to the heart.
Katara saw the ‘fireworks’ of someone redirecting a lot of lightening and turned to smile at Iroh. He was the most likely redirector. Katara looked in time to watch as the lightening ripped thru Fire Lord Zuko looking for an exit. It shot out all around him. It shook him worse than a coyote-dog could shake a rag doll. When it finally exited the man it took his life force with it.
The men who drew the lightening out were astounded. They couldn’t believe the Fire Lord was gone. It had been what they wanted but it felt unreal to achieve their goal.
Katara’s eyes widened and her mouth became agape. Her hands slipped up to her mouth and the tips of her fingers chilled her nose, just between her eyes.
She remembers crumpling, and a wailing noise she recognized as Mai's voice. She couldn't cry. She just lay there, somehow broken.
Katara sank to the ground. It felt like it was all over before the battle was won. And the price of the fight was the Great Divide. But this Great Divide would be impossible to cross.
Two seconds or and eternity later, a wail as haunted as a memory in the swamp arose. There was scrambling right after that wail. Katara didn’t need to be told who issued that far way wail. Everything she had told her it was a shattered lover, that it was Mai.
But nothing could move Katara. It was like whatever held her together, held her up, was broken. Broken in a way that allowed for no repairs.
Iroh turned to see why Mai was screeching. Seeing his nephew, the life zapped from him, added a cold vengeance too his heart that he had never known before. It never even surfaced when his son died. When the numbing cold filled him it banished his peacefulness, his kindness and the vow he took to never kill again.
It didn't matter that Iroh got the people who did it, or that Zuko had gone saving his uncle.
The men who were still stunned at the deed they had done witnessed the cold rage on the old dragon’s face. It scared them. Iroh didn’t look like an old man. No, he looked like a war god. The war spirit Isais, the most powerful, most deadly, most experienced, the eldest of the war spirits. Iroh was more fearful than any number of war spirits, more frightening than any number of childhood nightmares.
The men ran for their lives, for their very souls. Fear didn’t come easily to many of the rebellious men and women in the yard. But when Iroh began to spark and float without the movements of fire-bending the rebels fled and hid if they thought it would save them. Only their previous warrior training is what gave them that much strength at the sight of the Dragon of the West.
Iroh’s wrath was stunning and dreadful. But Katara didn’t see it. Katara did hear the death cries of five men though. The men who killed Zuko and the men who had distracted Iroh while they did. Others may have died but it was them Iroh was after.
After he paid the men their retribution Iroh returned. He collapsed at his nephew’s side and cried, “He was protecting me. Zuko you were a fool!” Iroh grabbed Zuko’s dead frame and sobbed into his chest.
Mai, who had been sitting at Zuko’s side, tried but couldn’t protest Iroh’s treatment of the dead. After her wail she just couldn’t find her voice again. She hadn’t lost it, her throat wasn’t sore. But her heart turned sour with the pain.
Not long after Zuko’s demise a new Fire Lord was crowned. While the common people were glad of the choice the Fire Sages made, some others were not. The aristocratsy was at first pleased. They thought for sure that Fire Lord Iroh would lead them back into an era of war. When they found they were incorrect they wanted him removed. Just like they removed the last Fire Lord.
It was somehow unreal for her… …She is sticking stubbornly to the belief that he will be back. It is impossible to believe otherwise.
For months, long after the funeral pyre disappeared in smoke, long after his ashes were given to the having déjà vu. And she knew the next thing to expect was Zuko walking through the door with a joke only they would understand, or an odd bit of information that had no use. Zuko always greeted her with either a private joke or a strange tidbit. It had been his way for distinguishing her from his other friends.
Yet every time the sun set and her eyes closed she thought of how her déjà vu was wrong. Katara would think of how she waited all day for Zuko to show. Because she just knew he would. Then she would remember, ‘Zuko is dead.’
Two lone tears, one from each eye would bloom and sleep would claim her before even one slid from her face. It was the same every night since she returned to her apartment in the Fire Nation capital.
She would awake the next day and it would start again. Katara would have the feeling she knew what would happen next but she was always wrong. There was never a sign of Zuko coming around.
Sometimes when family or friends came to visit she would tell them she had a feeling that Zuko would be coming over today. Whoever she told that to would try to explain that Zuko was dead, but it was like she couldn’t hear them. She was just incapable of knowing of her fire-bending friend’s death.
Even Fire Lord Iroh would visit her from time to time. He would talk to her. Often they would talk about Zuko. Iroh would pretend for her that Zuko was still alive. It was nice to talk about Zuko without having to grieve or deal with someone who was grieving. He could just remember the good times, the funny times, and the sad times without someone feeling sorry for him. Without someone crying for his loss of his ‘second son’. Iroh was the only person who didn’t try to convince her that Zuko was dead. He knew she would accept it in her own time. At least he hoped she would.
Yet every time Iroh left he left with tears beading in his eyes. He was sad that Katara was struggling with this. Because until she came to terms with it she would never move on.
Even Mai had accepted Zuko’s death. In fact her parents had already decided on her future husband. They were just giving her a complete year to grieve before announcing the betrothal.
The day she realizes that he is never going to come back, she is never seen again.
One day when she was walking about, buying her supper for the next few days it sank in. ‘Zuko is gone. He is gone for good. Zuko is dead and not even Tui and La can change it.’ That was the day Katara sat down in the streets of the capital with a painfully stunned look gracing her face. She sat there for hours not seeing or hearing anyone. When someone tried to help her she didn’t know it. Katara had no clue that a pour child braved her and her scary stillness to steal her food. Nothing made it in to Katara’s mind. And no sounds made it out. She just sat there, torn. Inside her head the death of Fire Lord Zuko replayed in her mind.
Nothing changed inwardly or outwardly until the sun began to set with glorious reds. Then her eyes gathered water like a water-bender and tears clashed hotly with her cheeks. Katara’s face crumpled in pain and she covered her eyes. Once again a kind soul offered to help her. She thanked the old man but went on her way to her home alone.
Katara was glad and pained at the same time upon returning to her empty home. She had no one to see her fall into despair. But she also had no one to help her up again.
Katara sat in her home for three days thinking of Zuko. Silently she thanked her friends and family for trying to help her when she was ‘crazy’. But her pain was heavy. It rested so hard on her stomach she couldn’t eat.
After that first day she didn’t cry again. But she did realize something that day when she got home. ‘I love you Zuko!’ her thoughts cried loudly.
The third night she heard a commotion out her window. She opened the shutters and looked down. Below on the streets was a young soldier and a woman. The woman was trying to push the man away and the soldier protested. “Come on baby, I’m going away to protect citizens from the rebels soon. The least you can do is kiss a pour man goodbye.”
They struggled out of hearing range before Katara could hear the woman’s reply.
A thought sprouted in Katara’s mind. She left that night without anyone seeing her. She had one last mission, a mission she would carry out in honor, in memory, in place of Zuko. Zuko would do this mission if he were here but he was gone so she would go in his place.
Katara gathered her stealth gear and clothes. The last time she wore this black suit was when she and Zuko confronted the man who had slain her mother. Then she wrote on a piece of paper the only words that would come to mind…
All she has left is a note, "I can't."
Katara was thick with memories as she snuck into a rebel leader’s house. She found the document she needed and pinpointed were the largest group of rebels were gathering.
Two days later she was at that spot. Katara kept herself hidden in the trees. She watched as men and women congregated to that spot. Everyday it grew. Soon there was a hundred, two hundred, five hundred plus men gathered preparing an assault.
Something in Katara told her everyday to hold off attacking just one more day. After two weeks of ‘just one more day’ she knew why. She saw an evil, crazed smile, and a stature of one who was brought up to think themselves the best person in the world. She had to remove the person who was being pushed to the throne by the rebellion. But it was obvious that the ‘heir’ wasn’t the one behind the rebellion, just the symbol.
Katara got as much sleep that night as she could. The next day she would attack. The next day she would assure the rebellion of failure. She wouldn’t let Zuko’s death be in vain.
When the rumors of the decimation of the Rebels' groups come, and the witch who did it, the GAang, painfully missing a few members, rushes to the area.
Katara attacked before sunrise that morning. She took the entire camp by surprise. Men and women rushed around trying to stop her. But all they got for their troubles was smashed aside or killed.
She didn’t look human anymore. She was pale, even with her dark skin. Her blue eyes flashed like blue fire, blue lightening. Her hair was tangled and messy, leaves and twigs graced it like they would a forest spirit. She was in blue water tribe clothes and her feet were bare. Katara really did look like a witch as those who survived would later tell.
Most of the battle was too quick and short lived to even be considered part of the real battle. When the weaker people realized they were no match they ran an hid. But by that time three fourths of their nearly six hundred warriors and benders were dead. Many others were injured. All that hadn’t faced her were their leaders.
The leaders were ashamed that their army was cowering to the face of a little girl. The three leaders or the rebellion who were there faced her. Their icon helping them occasionally.
The battle between these giants of power lasted three hours. No one looked to be gaining the high ground.
It was when The icon realized who the witch was that things really began to pick up.
“You’re that girl… The avatar’s sweetheart. Why have you left him? Did he realize what a witch you are?” Katara’s look told the icon that that wasn’t what it was. ‘Or did you fall for someone else? Was a child not good enough for you?” The icon smiled. “That’s it isn’t it? You fell for someone beyond your station.” The icon began to laugh manically. “You fell for my dearly deceased brother!” She began to laugh very, very hard. “I’m sure Zuzu is waiting for you on the other side!” Azula began to attack the ‘witch’ with an anger and power beyond anything she used since the day of Sozin’s comment. “Allow me to help you return to his side!” she hissed angrily.
“Gladly…” Katara whispered, “But I won’t go without you.” Katara smirked. She had it all planned out and ready, she just had to lure Azula to throw out a certain attack. Then it would all end. Life and death was hanging in the balance, if her plan failed she would die, and if it succeeded there was a small chance of another outcome.
Azula screeched. No one was to smile on the battlefield but her. Azula drew lightening to heel like a dog. The three leaders seeing the lightening drew their strongest attacks as well. Only one could call on lightening like Azula.
Katara’s smirk only grew. She had to time it exactly right. She began swinging water around, seemingly wildly and with no purpose. Then just as Azula released her lightening Katara swung her arms. A gigantic water filled ice cube surrounded them all. The water conducted the electricity and the special powder she prepared her water, now turned ice, with bounced the lightening back in on them. Causing the lightening to keep hitting them instead of escaping.
The water inside the glasslike ice eventually steamed into nothing and with the lightening still bouncing around inside the dome they continued the fight. Azula and the men continued to blast fire at Katara but the lightening had gone through them all. They were all suffering from lightening striking them. It only took one last blast from the lightening and Azula’s well timed fire to knock the water-bender down.
Azula approached her cockily. She managed to avoid most of the lightening once the water dried away. And her craziness allowed her to continue fighting without acknowledging the pain.
So as she stood over the gasping water-bender Azula was about to say something humiliating and rude to the girl. Then she would deliver the death blow. But before she could Katara reached out her hand and placed it on Azula’s calf where the skin was showing. The battle had ripped Azula’s pants. Katara, who had internalized a lot of lightening to reach her goal, she had kept redirecting it in her stomach, let the lightening flow from her hand into Azula.
Azula’s hand flew around and lightening poured from her fingertips hitting the three men in the dome. All three of them withered and their soul departed. But the lightening kept flowing from Azula. Azula realizing that she was about to die from the shocking pain of lightening did one last act of fire-bending. She lit herself ablaze. Her body would belong to the sun just as all Fire Lords before her. She would at least be a leader in death.
Azula’s Fire blast at herself sent her rocketing backwards, straight into the wall of ice. She broke through it. Another consequence of the blast of fire was an unforeseen puff of fire that she left behind.
The puff of fire landed on Katara. Katara’s insides were by that time so scorched that she couldn’t move to put it out. Her body was also being burned by Azula’s fire.
Katara opened her eyes for the last time. Just in time to see the lightening break through the roof of her ice bubble. Some blocks of ice fell to the ground. One landed on the edge of her skirt. Her fingers twitched towards it before she died. She died before the pain of burning could get to her.
When the rumors of the decimation of the Rebels' groups come, and the witch who did it, the GAang, painfully missing a few members, rushes to the area.
The remaining rebels rushed to their burning icon. Princess Azula was dead before the first one reached her. They hung their heads and a few of them sent more fire onto her in morning. She was ash before too long.
One woman who was only part of the camp so as not to be separated from her husband snuck into the block of ice. She marveled at the power of the young woman who caused so much damage to the camp. She hadn’t liked the principle behind them starting this civil war. So when she saw that the woman was burning but the fire was dieing she shot more fire at the poor girl. She did so to honor the ‘hero’ she believed the girl to be. Then she rushed out of there before anyone could notice what she had done. She would be in huge trouble if anyone found out she honored the water-bender in such a way.
The group was so spooked and disheartened by the water-bender and the death of their icon that they disbanded. Many of them vowed to never again go against their Fire Lord.
By the word of their mouths people around the world were speaking of the witch and the circumvention of a large assemblage of rebels. That is how Avatar Aang and his remaining friends came to come to the place of battle. None of them had seen or heard from Katara in over a month. She wasn’t home when they visited her, but they had found her note.
They hoped it wasn’t her, that she hadn’t been the witch and they were on the battlefield to find out.
All Katara has left, again, is a scrap of blue fabric, stained red on a corner, and a note. "Scatter my ashes on the sea when there's a North Wind blowing."
A North Wind carries one to their true love so they can be together forever more, the legend goes.
Sadly when they went into what remained of Katara’s ice bubble they found a piece of blue fabric. One tattered edge was burned. The rest was almost as it had been the last time they saw Katara. The only difference was that it was stained red, bloody red. Beside the fabric was a pile of ashes, they knew that they were Katara’s remains.
Sokka didn’t want to accept it and concluded that she was injured somewhere nearby. As he searched around he found Katara’s camp. Hung on a tree in the camp was her black ‘ninja’ suit. Attached to that suit was a note. The note read,
‘To my friends and whomever reads this.
‘ I know that on the morrow I will be slain. I am going to launch an assault on a rebel camp, one that wants to put Azula on the thrown. I have seen Azula in the camp. That is how I know I will not live.
‘When I die I wish to be burned. I have heard a tale while living in the Fire Nation that when one’s ashes are given to the North Wind, the North Wind shows them mercy and drives them to be with their true love in the Spirit World.
‘This is my wish. Burn my body. Scatter my ashes on the sea when there’s a North Wind blowing.
‘Goodbye, with all my shattered heart, Katara.’
Suki cried, “Oh that’s so sad… and beautiful!”
Sokka fell to his knees. “Katara’s gone…” he whispered. This was the second time in his life that he wouldn’t even try to deny that he cried. Suki wrapped her arms around him and they cried together.
Aang didn’t cry, he wanted to but he couldn’t. He grabbed his glider and a bag. With that bag he gathered up Katara’s ashes. Just as he was about to fly off he looked over at Azula’s ashes. He saw the armor sitting there and knew to whom it belonged. Aang felt pity for the crazy girl. So he found another bag and gathered Azula’s ashes too.
Then loaded down with two bags of ash he flew off. He landed on a rocky cliff by the sea and awaited a Northern Wind. Still he couldn’t cry.
When the North Wind came up he flew over the ocean on his glider. First he dumped Azula’s ashes. Then as he flew around dumping Katara’s ashes he began to cry. Tears dumped down his face faster then the ashes flew from his bag.
When he landed again he couldn’t stop the tears for his life, if he had to.
Toph was the only one who didn’t cry. She made sure that Suki and Sokka were set up nicely after they cried themselves to sleep. She found some fruits and nuts for herself to eat. She spent the time being aloof and alone. Until nightfall, until after she made her rock tent and laid down. Then she began to weep. She wept so loud that it woke Suki and Sokka up. Suki was about to go and try to comfort Toph. But Sokka held her back. “Toph would want us to believe she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t want us to hear her. Let her be.”
Suki nodded. They listened to her cry for over two and a half hours. Then Toph finally slept.
Aang returned three days later and Appa and Momo clung to him like they would die before letting him go again. Aang seemed sad and looked like he hadn’t eaten since he left. He even had tiny spikes on his head. He hadn’t shaved his head since he left either.
Everyone was surprised when Toph blasted her tent apart and hugged Aang tighter than an armadillo-bear. Tears leaked out onto his shirt. He graciously hid them from the others for her. She was completely silent, that made knowing she was crying harder for Aang to bare. If she was sniffling or screaming it wouldn’t have been so painful for him.
Suki and Sokka looked at each other. But they said nothing as well.
“I was worried about you… Stupid Twinkle-Toes.” Toph muttered when her tears dried in her eyes and she pulled away.
“I’m sorry Toph… There was something I had to do… for Katara.”
Toph nodded. She understood completely. She punched him hard and said, “Don’t take off like that again Twinkle-Toes. I’ll have to nail your feet to the floor if you do.”
Aang held up his hands in surrender. “Oh mighty Toph, I dare not to disobey you.”
The group laughed a little. The air got slightly easier to breathe.
The North Wind swept up the ashes and carried them a long way. All the way to the spiritual waiting ‘ground’. All the way to a sort of limbo. There above the sea something wonderful happened.
The sea splashed up although there was nothing to cause the splash. It wetted the ashes floating above. The ashes glittered but didn’t fall, not yet. They seemed to take the form of a bust, clear down to the waist. The bust was female, clad in simple, modest white. Another set of sparkling ashes joined this set. This one in the form of a male.
The ashes fell to the sea. But the forms remained.
The male welcomed the female by placing a hand on her arm just below the shoulder. His golden eyes shined into hers. His face was unmarred once more.
The female smiled, her eyes turning bluer the more solid she became.
“It has been a short wait. Yet missing you made it an eternity.” the male said in a voice that seemed like a whisper.
“Yes, it has.” she said in a voice much like his own.
The North Wind started to blow heavily. It still had to convey the souls to the Spirit World. It seemed as if it was trying to tear them apart.
The female put her hands on either side of the male’s face. The wind blew her hair around him a little and most of it behind her. She kissed him as they held together. Her with her hands on his face and him with his hands on her arms. The wind blew them together into the eternal realm of spirit.
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Well here it is… The prize to my When Ice and Lava Meet contest. The way to win was to be able to tell me what ice and lava make. Xyzisme won with the answer earth. Xyzisme was the only person to even try and he/she got it right! Good Job!
Originally writing a fan story to a fan fiction wasn’t an option. But Xyzisme asked if I would be willing to write one. I decided I would if one of her/his stories inspired me. And the Zutara week day 2 story did. Check it out. (You’ll probably have to go to fanfiction(.)net to find the original. I recommend doing so because I didn‘t use the entire thing. It‘s good.) When I was reading through her/his stories I wanted to write something funny… then I ended up writing this… Heh! ^^;
I hope you liked it.
Thanks for reading and reviewing. Please let me know what you think. Bye!
By: year of the snake (at fanfiction) aka. crescentmoon (at mediaminer). And now Opal-Dreams on DeviantArt.
Wind Blown Ashes
…she had heard about rumors of rebellion……but she did not realize how serious it was. None of them did.
Until the day Zuko died.
The day is a vague blur to her.
Three fire-benders were attacking the great general, the Dragon of the West. Yet the old man was winning. The only thing was they were keeping him occupied and distracted. So he didn’t notice when two more fire-benders snuck behind him. Fortunately for the man someone else, an ally, did.
Zuko ran forward his feet racing beyond his control, each pound of his feet on the ground hit faster then it took his heart to beat. That was some feat because his heart outraced even his instincts. He ignored his own opponents.
He jumped between his uncle and the two lightening blasts to his rear. At the same time they were fired two of the three men to Iroh’s front shot lightening at him and the other man sent a bomb of fire. Iroh managed to block the fire and redirect the lightening but he had no way of knowing that his nephew saved him. He would never have guessed that someday Zuko might need to redirect multiple strands of lightening. Iroh never knew until it was to late. Life dealt Iroh a terrible blow in his old age. The worse surprise that could possibly come to a man with ‘only one surprise left’.
The Fire Lord was down… he took two fatal shocks to the heart.
Katara saw the ‘fireworks’ of someone redirecting a lot of lightening and turned to smile at Iroh. He was the most likely redirector. Katara looked in time to watch as the lightening ripped thru Fire Lord Zuko looking for an exit. It shot out all around him. It shook him worse than a coyote-dog could shake a rag doll. When it finally exited the man it took his life force with it.
The men who drew the lightening out were astounded. They couldn’t believe the Fire Lord was gone. It had been what they wanted but it felt unreal to achieve their goal.
Katara’s eyes widened and her mouth became agape. Her hands slipped up to her mouth and the tips of her fingers chilled her nose, just between her eyes.
She remembers crumpling, and a wailing noise she recognized as Mai's voice. She couldn't cry. She just lay there, somehow broken.
Katara sank to the ground. It felt like it was all over before the battle was won. And the price of the fight was the Great Divide. But this Great Divide would be impossible to cross.
Two seconds or and eternity later, a wail as haunted as a memory in the swamp arose. There was scrambling right after that wail. Katara didn’t need to be told who issued that far way wail. Everything she had told her it was a shattered lover, that it was Mai.
But nothing could move Katara. It was like whatever held her together, held her up, was broken. Broken in a way that allowed for no repairs.
Iroh turned to see why Mai was screeching. Seeing his nephew, the life zapped from him, added a cold vengeance too his heart that he had never known before. It never even surfaced when his son died. When the numbing cold filled him it banished his peacefulness, his kindness and the vow he took to never kill again.
It didn't matter that Iroh got the people who did it, or that Zuko had gone saving his uncle.
The men who were still stunned at the deed they had done witnessed the cold rage on the old dragon’s face. It scared them. Iroh didn’t look like an old man. No, he looked like a war god. The war spirit Isais, the most powerful, most deadly, most experienced, the eldest of the war spirits. Iroh was more fearful than any number of war spirits, more frightening than any number of childhood nightmares.
The men ran for their lives, for their very souls. Fear didn’t come easily to many of the rebellious men and women in the yard. But when Iroh began to spark and float without the movements of fire-bending the rebels fled and hid if they thought it would save them. Only their previous warrior training is what gave them that much strength at the sight of the Dragon of the West.
Iroh’s wrath was stunning and dreadful. But Katara didn’t see it. Katara did hear the death cries of five men though. The men who killed Zuko and the men who had distracted Iroh while they did. Others may have died but it was them Iroh was after.
After he paid the men their retribution Iroh returned. He collapsed at his nephew’s side and cried, “He was protecting me. Zuko you were a fool!” Iroh grabbed Zuko’s dead frame and sobbed into his chest.
Mai, who had been sitting at Zuko’s side, tried but couldn’t protest Iroh’s treatment of the dead. After her wail she just couldn’t find her voice again. She hadn’t lost it, her throat wasn’t sore. But her heart turned sour with the pain.
Not long after Zuko’s demise a new Fire Lord was crowned. While the common people were glad of the choice the Fire Sages made, some others were not. The aristocratsy was at first pleased. They thought for sure that Fire Lord Iroh would lead them back into an era of war. When they found they were incorrect they wanted him removed. Just like they removed the last Fire Lord.
It was somehow unreal for her… …She is sticking stubbornly to the belief that he will be back. It is impossible to believe otherwise.
For months, long after the funeral pyre disappeared in smoke, long after his ashes were given to the having déjà vu. And she knew the next thing to expect was Zuko walking through the door with a joke only they would understand, or an odd bit of information that had no use. Zuko always greeted her with either a private joke or a strange tidbit. It had been his way for distinguishing her from his other friends.
Yet every time the sun set and her eyes closed she thought of how her déjà vu was wrong. Katara would think of how she waited all day for Zuko to show. Because she just knew he would. Then she would remember, ‘Zuko is dead.’
Two lone tears, one from each eye would bloom and sleep would claim her before even one slid from her face. It was the same every night since she returned to her apartment in the Fire Nation capital.
She would awake the next day and it would start again. Katara would have the feeling she knew what would happen next but she was always wrong. There was never a sign of Zuko coming around.
Sometimes when family or friends came to visit she would tell them she had a feeling that Zuko would be coming over today. Whoever she told that to would try to explain that Zuko was dead, but it was like she couldn’t hear them. She was just incapable of knowing of her fire-bending friend’s death.
Even Fire Lord Iroh would visit her from time to time. He would talk to her. Often they would talk about Zuko. Iroh would pretend for her that Zuko was still alive. It was nice to talk about Zuko without having to grieve or deal with someone who was grieving. He could just remember the good times, the funny times, and the sad times without someone feeling sorry for him. Without someone crying for his loss of his ‘second son’. Iroh was the only person who didn’t try to convince her that Zuko was dead. He knew she would accept it in her own time. At least he hoped she would.
Yet every time Iroh left he left with tears beading in his eyes. He was sad that Katara was struggling with this. Because until she came to terms with it she would never move on.
Even Mai had accepted Zuko’s death. In fact her parents had already decided on her future husband. They were just giving her a complete year to grieve before announcing the betrothal.
The day she realizes that he is never going to come back, she is never seen again.
One day when she was walking about, buying her supper for the next few days it sank in. ‘Zuko is gone. He is gone for good. Zuko is dead and not even Tui and La can change it.’ That was the day Katara sat down in the streets of the capital with a painfully stunned look gracing her face. She sat there for hours not seeing or hearing anyone. When someone tried to help her she didn’t know it. Katara had no clue that a pour child braved her and her scary stillness to steal her food. Nothing made it in to Katara’s mind. And no sounds made it out. She just sat there, torn. Inside her head the death of Fire Lord Zuko replayed in her mind.
Nothing changed inwardly or outwardly until the sun began to set with glorious reds. Then her eyes gathered water like a water-bender and tears clashed hotly with her cheeks. Katara’s face crumpled in pain and she covered her eyes. Once again a kind soul offered to help her. She thanked the old man but went on her way to her home alone.
Katara was glad and pained at the same time upon returning to her empty home. She had no one to see her fall into despair. But she also had no one to help her up again.
Katara sat in her home for three days thinking of Zuko. Silently she thanked her friends and family for trying to help her when she was ‘crazy’. But her pain was heavy. It rested so hard on her stomach she couldn’t eat.
After that first day she didn’t cry again. But she did realize something that day when she got home. ‘I love you Zuko!’ her thoughts cried loudly.
The third night she heard a commotion out her window. She opened the shutters and looked down. Below on the streets was a young soldier and a woman. The woman was trying to push the man away and the soldier protested. “Come on baby, I’m going away to protect citizens from the rebels soon. The least you can do is kiss a pour man goodbye.”
They struggled out of hearing range before Katara could hear the woman’s reply.
A thought sprouted in Katara’s mind. She left that night without anyone seeing her. She had one last mission, a mission she would carry out in honor, in memory, in place of Zuko. Zuko would do this mission if he were here but he was gone so she would go in his place.
Katara gathered her stealth gear and clothes. The last time she wore this black suit was when she and Zuko confronted the man who had slain her mother. Then she wrote on a piece of paper the only words that would come to mind…
All she has left is a note, "I can't."
Katara was thick with memories as she snuck into a rebel leader’s house. She found the document she needed and pinpointed were the largest group of rebels were gathering.
Two days later she was at that spot. Katara kept herself hidden in the trees. She watched as men and women congregated to that spot. Everyday it grew. Soon there was a hundred, two hundred, five hundred plus men gathered preparing an assault.
Something in Katara told her everyday to hold off attacking just one more day. After two weeks of ‘just one more day’ she knew why. She saw an evil, crazed smile, and a stature of one who was brought up to think themselves the best person in the world. She had to remove the person who was being pushed to the throne by the rebellion. But it was obvious that the ‘heir’ wasn’t the one behind the rebellion, just the symbol.
Katara got as much sleep that night as she could. The next day she would attack. The next day she would assure the rebellion of failure. She wouldn’t let Zuko’s death be in vain.
When the rumors of the decimation of the Rebels' groups come, and the witch who did it, the GAang, painfully missing a few members, rushes to the area.
Katara attacked before sunrise that morning. She took the entire camp by surprise. Men and women rushed around trying to stop her. But all they got for their troubles was smashed aside or killed.
She didn’t look human anymore. She was pale, even with her dark skin. Her blue eyes flashed like blue fire, blue lightening. Her hair was tangled and messy, leaves and twigs graced it like they would a forest spirit. She was in blue water tribe clothes and her feet were bare. Katara really did look like a witch as those who survived would later tell.
Most of the battle was too quick and short lived to even be considered part of the real battle. When the weaker people realized they were no match they ran an hid. But by that time three fourths of their nearly six hundred warriors and benders were dead. Many others were injured. All that hadn’t faced her were their leaders.
The leaders were ashamed that their army was cowering to the face of a little girl. The three leaders or the rebellion who were there faced her. Their icon helping them occasionally.
The battle between these giants of power lasted three hours. No one looked to be gaining the high ground.
It was when The icon realized who the witch was that things really began to pick up.
“You’re that girl… The avatar’s sweetheart. Why have you left him? Did he realize what a witch you are?” Katara’s look told the icon that that wasn’t what it was. ‘Or did you fall for someone else? Was a child not good enough for you?” The icon smiled. “That’s it isn’t it? You fell for someone beyond your station.” The icon began to laugh manically. “You fell for my dearly deceased brother!” She began to laugh very, very hard. “I’m sure Zuzu is waiting for you on the other side!” Azula began to attack the ‘witch’ with an anger and power beyond anything she used since the day of Sozin’s comment. “Allow me to help you return to his side!” she hissed angrily.
“Gladly…” Katara whispered, “But I won’t go without you.” Katara smirked. She had it all planned out and ready, she just had to lure Azula to throw out a certain attack. Then it would all end. Life and death was hanging in the balance, if her plan failed she would die, and if it succeeded there was a small chance of another outcome.
Azula screeched. No one was to smile on the battlefield but her. Azula drew lightening to heel like a dog. The three leaders seeing the lightening drew their strongest attacks as well. Only one could call on lightening like Azula.
Katara’s smirk only grew. She had to time it exactly right. She began swinging water around, seemingly wildly and with no purpose. Then just as Azula released her lightening Katara swung her arms. A gigantic water filled ice cube surrounded them all. The water conducted the electricity and the special powder she prepared her water, now turned ice, with bounced the lightening back in on them. Causing the lightening to keep hitting them instead of escaping.
The water inside the glasslike ice eventually steamed into nothing and with the lightening still bouncing around inside the dome they continued the fight. Azula and the men continued to blast fire at Katara but the lightening had gone through them all. They were all suffering from lightening striking them. It only took one last blast from the lightening and Azula’s well timed fire to knock the water-bender down.
Azula approached her cockily. She managed to avoid most of the lightening once the water dried away. And her craziness allowed her to continue fighting without acknowledging the pain.
So as she stood over the gasping water-bender Azula was about to say something humiliating and rude to the girl. Then she would deliver the death blow. But before she could Katara reached out her hand and placed it on Azula’s calf where the skin was showing. The battle had ripped Azula’s pants. Katara, who had internalized a lot of lightening to reach her goal, she had kept redirecting it in her stomach, let the lightening flow from her hand into Azula.
Azula’s hand flew around and lightening poured from her fingertips hitting the three men in the dome. All three of them withered and their soul departed. But the lightening kept flowing from Azula. Azula realizing that she was about to die from the shocking pain of lightening did one last act of fire-bending. She lit herself ablaze. Her body would belong to the sun just as all Fire Lords before her. She would at least be a leader in death.
Azula’s Fire blast at herself sent her rocketing backwards, straight into the wall of ice. She broke through it. Another consequence of the blast of fire was an unforeseen puff of fire that she left behind.
The puff of fire landed on Katara. Katara’s insides were by that time so scorched that she couldn’t move to put it out. Her body was also being burned by Azula’s fire.
Katara opened her eyes for the last time. Just in time to see the lightening break through the roof of her ice bubble. Some blocks of ice fell to the ground. One landed on the edge of her skirt. Her fingers twitched towards it before she died. She died before the pain of burning could get to her.
When the rumors of the decimation of the Rebels' groups come, and the witch who did it, the GAang, painfully missing a few members, rushes to the area.
The remaining rebels rushed to their burning icon. Princess Azula was dead before the first one reached her. They hung their heads and a few of them sent more fire onto her in morning. She was ash before too long.
One woman who was only part of the camp so as not to be separated from her husband snuck into the block of ice. She marveled at the power of the young woman who caused so much damage to the camp. She hadn’t liked the principle behind them starting this civil war. So when she saw that the woman was burning but the fire was dieing she shot more fire at the poor girl. She did so to honor the ‘hero’ she believed the girl to be. Then she rushed out of there before anyone could notice what she had done. She would be in huge trouble if anyone found out she honored the water-bender in such a way.
The group was so spooked and disheartened by the water-bender and the death of their icon that they disbanded. Many of them vowed to never again go against their Fire Lord.
By the word of their mouths people around the world were speaking of the witch and the circumvention of a large assemblage of rebels. That is how Avatar Aang and his remaining friends came to come to the place of battle. None of them had seen or heard from Katara in over a month. She wasn’t home when they visited her, but they had found her note.
They hoped it wasn’t her, that she hadn’t been the witch and they were on the battlefield to find out.
All Katara has left, again, is a scrap of blue fabric, stained red on a corner, and a note. "Scatter my ashes on the sea when there's a North Wind blowing."
A North Wind carries one to their true love so they can be together forever more, the legend goes.
Sadly when they went into what remained of Katara’s ice bubble they found a piece of blue fabric. One tattered edge was burned. The rest was almost as it had been the last time they saw Katara. The only difference was that it was stained red, bloody red. Beside the fabric was a pile of ashes, they knew that they were Katara’s remains.
Sokka didn’t want to accept it and concluded that she was injured somewhere nearby. As he searched around he found Katara’s camp. Hung on a tree in the camp was her black ‘ninja’ suit. Attached to that suit was a note. The note read,
‘To my friends and whomever reads this.
‘ I know that on the morrow I will be slain. I am going to launch an assault on a rebel camp, one that wants to put Azula on the thrown. I have seen Azula in the camp. That is how I know I will not live.
‘When I die I wish to be burned. I have heard a tale while living in the Fire Nation that when one’s ashes are given to the North Wind, the North Wind shows them mercy and drives them to be with their true love in the Spirit World.
‘This is my wish. Burn my body. Scatter my ashes on the sea when there’s a North Wind blowing.
‘Goodbye, with all my shattered heart, Katara.’
Suki cried, “Oh that’s so sad… and beautiful!”
Sokka fell to his knees. “Katara’s gone…” he whispered. This was the second time in his life that he wouldn’t even try to deny that he cried. Suki wrapped her arms around him and they cried together.
Aang didn’t cry, he wanted to but he couldn’t. He grabbed his glider and a bag. With that bag he gathered up Katara’s ashes. Just as he was about to fly off he looked over at Azula’s ashes. He saw the armor sitting there and knew to whom it belonged. Aang felt pity for the crazy girl. So he found another bag and gathered Azula’s ashes too.
Then loaded down with two bags of ash he flew off. He landed on a rocky cliff by the sea and awaited a Northern Wind. Still he couldn’t cry.
When the North Wind came up he flew over the ocean on his glider. First he dumped Azula’s ashes. Then as he flew around dumping Katara’s ashes he began to cry. Tears dumped down his face faster then the ashes flew from his bag.
When he landed again he couldn’t stop the tears for his life, if he had to.
Toph was the only one who didn’t cry. She made sure that Suki and Sokka were set up nicely after they cried themselves to sleep. She found some fruits and nuts for herself to eat. She spent the time being aloof and alone. Until nightfall, until after she made her rock tent and laid down. Then she began to weep. She wept so loud that it woke Suki and Sokka up. Suki was about to go and try to comfort Toph. But Sokka held her back. “Toph would want us to believe she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t want us to hear her. Let her be.”
Suki nodded. They listened to her cry for over two and a half hours. Then Toph finally slept.
Aang returned three days later and Appa and Momo clung to him like they would die before letting him go again. Aang seemed sad and looked like he hadn’t eaten since he left. He even had tiny spikes on his head. He hadn’t shaved his head since he left either.
Everyone was surprised when Toph blasted her tent apart and hugged Aang tighter than an armadillo-bear. Tears leaked out onto his shirt. He graciously hid them from the others for her. She was completely silent, that made knowing she was crying harder for Aang to bare. If she was sniffling or screaming it wouldn’t have been so painful for him.
Suki and Sokka looked at each other. But they said nothing as well.
“I was worried about you… Stupid Twinkle-Toes.” Toph muttered when her tears dried in her eyes and she pulled away.
“I’m sorry Toph… There was something I had to do… for Katara.”
Toph nodded. She understood completely. She punched him hard and said, “Don’t take off like that again Twinkle-Toes. I’ll have to nail your feet to the floor if you do.”
Aang held up his hands in surrender. “Oh mighty Toph, I dare not to disobey you.”
The group laughed a little. The air got slightly easier to breathe.
The North Wind swept up the ashes and carried them a long way. All the way to the spiritual waiting ‘ground’. All the way to a sort of limbo. There above the sea something wonderful happened.
The sea splashed up although there was nothing to cause the splash. It wetted the ashes floating above. The ashes glittered but didn’t fall, not yet. They seemed to take the form of a bust, clear down to the waist. The bust was female, clad in simple, modest white. Another set of sparkling ashes joined this set. This one in the form of a male.
The ashes fell to the sea. But the forms remained.
The male welcomed the female by placing a hand on her arm just below the shoulder. His golden eyes shined into hers. His face was unmarred once more.
The female smiled, her eyes turning bluer the more solid she became.
“It has been a short wait. Yet missing you made it an eternity.” the male said in a voice that seemed like a whisper.
“Yes, it has.” she said in a voice much like his own.
The North Wind started to blow heavily. It still had to convey the souls to the Spirit World. It seemed as if it was trying to tear them apart.
The female put her hands on either side of the male’s face. The wind blew her hair around him a little and most of it behind her. She kissed him as they held together. Her with her hands on his face and him with his hands on her arms. The wind blew them together into the eternal realm of spirit.
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Well here it is… The prize to my When Ice and Lava Meet contest. The way to win was to be able to tell me what ice and lava make. Xyzisme won with the answer earth. Xyzisme was the only person to even try and he/she got it right! Good Job!
Originally writing a fan story to a fan fiction wasn’t an option. But Xyzisme asked if I would be willing to write one. I decided I would if one of her/his stories inspired me. And the Zutara week day 2 story did. Check it out. (You’ll probably have to go to fanfiction(.)net to find the original. I recommend doing so because I didn‘t use the entire thing. It‘s good.) When I was reading through her/his stories I wanted to write something funny… then I ended up writing this… Heh! ^^;
I hope you liked it.
Thanks for reading and reviewing. Please let me know what you think. Bye!