THEY TRICKED HER! The gods had tricked her!

Katara was so angry she could scream, but making a single noise on this bridge could void the spiritual contract and send Zuko straight to Naraka, a realm of torment and agony. That thought alone kept her mouth shut. The idea of Zuko being sent to hell because of her terrified her and drove her forward.

It wasn't entirely Varuna's fault, Katara eventually admitted. Actually, it wasn't the goddess's fault at all. It was her own. Katara was the one who was so confident in herself and her need to return Zuko to the living—to appease her own guilt—that she never once considered the consequences for him.

Avatar Kuruk had warned her, but she had arrogantly presumed the sacrifice would be hers and hers alone. It wasn't. It was her decision to bring Zuko home; a decision she made that entailed a sacrifice from him. The ultimate kind.

However, Katara had to wonder why he chose to come with her, knowing what he knew. He allowed her to bait him, even though he knew all along that he was travelling towards a second death. No, a punishment far greater than death. He was willingly walking into a trap that she had unwittingly created, but to what end?

Taking a deep breath, Katara shook off the thought and carefully made her way onto the onyx-coloured bridge. She could hear the rushing waters below, but she dared not glance down in case she somehow turned and looked back at Zuko. Varuna had told her she must always look ahead, always move forward, or else—

Katara shut her eyes. She didn't want to think about the consequences. Instead, she focussed on moving forward. She opened her eyes and stared ahead, but she could no longer see the stairs that Varuna had pointed out earlier. The fog was so thick here that she could barely see her own hands in front of her face let alone the black stone bridge beneath her feet.

She wondered what kind of images she would be shown this time around. Would it be like how it was seeing Zuko's past? Would she see her own past this time? Would he see it as well?

Katara worried her bottom lip with her teeth. The latter thought shouldn't have bothered her as much as it did. Why should she care if Zuko saw her past? She had seen him at his most vulnerable. It was only fair that he got to see her at her weakest point, too. The memory of Zuko freezing when he saw his mother hugging him goodbye flitted through her mind and she frowned. She was going to have to relive everything again.

Taking another deep breath, Katara confidently strode forward. This was her test, she told herself. To see how strong she was and how much she was willing to sacrifice for her enemy without condemning him to hell. But while she had stood beside Zuko on his path, her journey inevitably had to be travelled alone.

.

ஐ

·

ZUKO'S EYES WERE trained on the waterbender in front of him, his gaze fixed on the chestnut braid that hung down the middle of her back. He knew all along that he'd be sent to Naraka should someone try (and fail) to bring him home. His conversation with Red-Sash informed him as such:

"On the off chance that a living being should descend here and petition for your soul, you run the risk of being sent directly to Naraka should that person fail.

"You see, it's all about balance here, no shortcuts. And I should note that there have only been a handful of people over the last ten thousand years who have managed to convince Varuna. You are unlikely to be a part of that exception."

Zuko didn't expect anyone to come for him, least of all the person who had killed him. However, the waterbender had come for him with tears in her eyes, and he had stupidly agreed. He still wasn't exactly sure why he had done it. Maybe on some level he knew she'd fail and he'd be forced to spend his reincarnation cycle in hell. Maybe he wanted to be punished. Maybe.

Now things were different. Now he wanted her to succeed. He wanted to return to the living. He needed to. He just had to have faith—in her.

.

ஐ

·

KATARA SLOWLY MADE her way across the bridge. She glanced down at her feet to see the gaps in the stonework below. Some of the gaps were easy to spot, like missing chunks of mortar; some were several feet wide. Others were difficult to see, like the slick cracks in the stone that crumbled the moment her foot touched them. What at first seemed to be a strong and sturdy structure was actually a weakened foundation.

How many hopeful souls have set foot on this bridge? she wondered. How many have made it to the other side?

The fog picked up, invading her space as it crawled along her skin and forced its way into her lungs. It swaddled her like a thick blanket, suffocating her. However, the fog wasn't her only deterrent from running straight for the exit. The crumbling stone bridge groaned and creaked under their combined weight, cracking apart.

Katara swallowed her fear into the pit of her stomach and held it there, coiling it tightly. She refused to let it surface. She had to lead Zuko out of here, and she had to trust that he would follow her every step or else.

Suddenly the fog began to lift, drawing upwards and parting like curtains for a performance. The bridge had become visible now, though she still couldn't spy the exit ahead. She thanked the spirits for the small favour that she could at least see where she was going, and she began to walk more confidently.

The sound of the rushing waters below was soothing to her ears, though eerie. The brilliant silver-green water rose up alongside of her like twisted banners spun of liquid silk. The water began to form their own patterns, reminding her of the mist in the meadows, and she waited for it. And then it came.

At first there were only flashing images. A small girl with pale skin, messy hair and milky green eyes was dressed like a boy. Three teenage girls chasing after Appa. The girls looked familiar, but the images flashed by so quickly that Katara had no time to recall where she had seen them before.

Then she saw herself in a green-glowing crystal cavern with Zuko. His ponytail was gone, replaced with shaggy hair that fell in front of his eyes. He was dressed in Earth Kingdom robes and he was looking at her with such sad eyes. She was touching his scarred cheek, almost longingly.

The images quickly shifted: she was kneeling in the water with a lifeless Aang in her arms.

Katara swallowed painfully, trying to chase back the visceral images that mocked her vision. Was he dead? No. No, the Avatar couldn't be dead.

She wanted to scream out, to ask what was going on, but the scene was already changing. The sky was a blood red, an angry storm of violence. She saw Zuko—this time he was crouching low with his arms extended forward. Blue and orange flames surrounded him, licking at his skin. Suddenly a jet of blue fire blasted past his shoulder.

The blue flame-wielder was a girl around Katara's age, with brown hair and amber eyes. She was propelling herself forward with those same blue flames, aiming for Zuko. The Fire Prince managed to protect himself from the girl's attacks by creating a large sphere of fire, while returning his own volley of orange fire. But the girl was too fast for him.

He crouched low to the ground and performed several spinning sweep kicks, creating a powerful ring of fire that expanded outwards. The girl attempted to block Zuko's attack with a shield of blue fire, but it was too late, and Zuko's fire connected.

The amber-eyed girl fell forward and rolled across the ground, gasping in pain. Seconds later, she picked herself back up. She was obviously in pain, but it was more than that. It was more than just physical torment that clouded her haunted, frenzied eyes. Her hair had come undone, wet strands sticking to her face. She looked up at Zuko through the flames and bared her teeth in contempt.

"What, no lightning today, Azula?" Zuko taunted. "What's the matter? Afraid I'll re-direct it?"

He shifted his stance and thrust his palm forward, as though daring her to try.

Katara's mouth dropped open in shock. Azula? Zuko was fighting his own sister?

"Oh, I'll show you lightning!" Azula screamed. She waved her hands around in arcs, generating lightning from her very fingertips.

Zuko breathed evenly, extending both palms outwards as though he was going to receive the lightning. Katara held her breath, mesmerised by the duo's actions. It was like watching two fencers circle each other in a duel.

Azula's lightning crackled in her fingertips and her eyes shifted, looking past Zuko at someone else: her. Katara was standing behind the Fire Prince, as if she were his ally.

The Fire Princess smirked and extended her arm to the right of Zuko, releasing the lighting. Katara could only watch in horror as the lightning travelled towards the image of herself. She was going to die. Zuko's crazy sister was going to kill her!

Suddenly the scene narrowed in on Zuko, an expression of shock registering on his face as he realised who Azula was aiming for. He pivoted quickly to the right and leapt, trying to get in between Katara and the lightning as it shot from Azula's fingertips.

"No!"

There was a blinding flash of light and Katara could hear her own vision screaming out his name, "Zuko!"

The images dispersed and Katara noticed that her own hand was reaching out through the green fog, as though she could save him, as though could stop the images from disappearing.

Was this was her future: to watch Zuko die again?

She curled her fingers into her palm and lowered her hand to her side. No. She shook her head and her mouth set in a hard, determined line. No, she could not question it now. She could not say a word. She could not turn back. She had to keep going forward, for Zuko's sake.

.

ஐ

·

ZUKO'S EYES WERE on Katara's back, but his mind was reeling in shock.

What did he just see? His future or hers? Would he really save this girl's life, fighting against his own sister and matching her every move? Him, the failure, the banished prince? He wasn't sure if these visions were glimpses of the future or some twisted sort of devilry.

The green water flickered.

He bit his lip then, concentrating on the task at hand. He found himself admiring the waterbender's resolve, her ability to keep going forward. Perhaps she wouldn't so easily be broken. But then it was still too early to tell.

.

ஐ

·

KATARA CONTINUED TO make her way across the bridge. She wondered what she'd be shown next. Unlike the road to Zuko's past, where Zuko could run past the images, Katara could not. If she should run, she could fall, and then what would happen to the Fire Prince?

Celestial waters rose high above her like dazzling columns, forming a pair of hands that were reaching into a deep pool of blue. It was Admiral Zhao. He grabbed the white koi from its sanctuary and it struggled in his hands. Zhao forced the flailing fish into a bag and pulled the strings tight. The moon above turned a blood red.

Katara's eyes widened in terror. She remembered what Avatar Kuruk had told her about the moon and ocean spirits. Admiral Zhao had just captured Tui, the Moon Spirit.

The scene then shifted to the northern city with a blood red light washing over it. The Northern Water Tribe's counter-attack against the Fire Nation soldiers was faltering. Without the moon in balance with the ocean, the waterbenders had lost their power to bend. The Fire Nation soldiers were advancing, burning the city as they went.

More images shifted by. Katara advanced down the bridge, trembling slightly as she went. Suddenly there was Zhao again, standing under the red moon. He held a knife to the bag with Tui inside.

Aang dropped his staff in surrender. "Zhao, don't!"

"It's my destiny," Zhao said with a smug grin. "To destroy the moon and the Water Tribe."

"Destroying the moon won't just hurt the Water Tribe," Aang pleaded. "It will hurt everyone, including you. Without the moon, everything would fall out of balance. You have no idea what kind of chaos that would unleash on the world."

"He is right, Zhao!" A hooded Iroh stepped towards Zhao on the side of Aang, forming a triangle around the pond.

"General Iroh," Zhao said with a bored sigh. "Why am I not surprised to discover your treachery?"

Iroh lowered his hood. "I'm no traitor, Zhao. The Fire Nation needs the moon, too. We all depend on the balance." He pointed a finger at the admiral and thundered, "Whatever you do to that spirit, I will unleash on you ten-fold!" He assumed a firebending stance. "Let it go, now!"

Iroh and Zhao locked gazes and, after a moment, Zhao faltered. He released the koi back into the water. The red light of the moon vanished, returning to its normal colour, and Katara breathed a silent sigh of relief. But then Zhao's face contorted with rage and his hand came down, smiting the water with a hot blast of fire. The moon winked out of existence.

Katara was horrified. What had he done?

Iroh sprang into action immediately, crossing the foot bridge and attacking with blast after blast, effortlessly despatching Zhao's men. The admiral watched the general's blinding assault and quickly fled back towards the city.

Iroh turned back to the pond and knelt in defeat. The black fish was swimming frantically while the white koi floated lifelessly to the surface. There was a huge gash in its side. Iroh gently lifted the white fish from the water, an expression of utter sadness on his face.

"There's no hope now," Yue whispered. "It's over."

Katara's heart clenched in irrevocable sorrow. The Moon Spirit was dead? It couldn't be. But it was. She could feel it. She could feel the absence of the moon and the loss of her own bending.

Was everything already lost?

She wanted to call out, to return to her world as quickly as possible, but that was what the spirits wanted. This was her test, the penalty she had to pay. She was being forced to watch her friends and her brother face danger alone while she was helpless to intervene.

Yes, this was her test, and in order to pass it, she would have to continue on.

ஐ

KATARA'S HEART WAS heavy now, and she wondered if that's what made her legs feel so leaden. She felt like she was wading through molasses; each step was more labouring than the last.

The fog had returned, no longer green but a greying brown. Sepia. The colours of the celestial waters had changed too, and that was when she realised every colour represented an interval in time—the future, the present and now the past.

With their dying hint of green, the water began to weave a scene. Katara saw herself standing next to Aang on the river bank. They were practising waterbending.

"This is a pretty basic move, but it still took me months to perfect, so don't be frustrated if you don't get it right away." She gave Aang with an encouraging smile. "Just push and pull the water like this."

She began to bob gracefully back and forth and the water on the river edge moved back and forth with her.

"The key is getting the wrist movement right."

Aang began imitating her. "Like this?"

"That's almost right. If you keep practising, I'm sure eventually—"

"Hey, I'm bending it already!" The Avatar began to move around a respectable-sized wave of water, and Katara opened her mouth in shock.

"Wow, I can't believe you got that so quickly." She looked a little unhappy. "It took me two months to learn that move."

"Well, you had to figure it out on your own," he reasoned. "I'm lucky enough to have a great teacher."

Katara frowned. She remembered the envy she had felt then. She really didn't want to watch this scene. It made her feel uncomfortable and she didn't care to discover why.

"So, what's next?"

"This is a more difficult move. I call it streaming the water." She moved her hands and pulled out of a stream of water from the river and began to loop it around. "It's harder than it looks, so don't be disappointed if—"

Her past-self stopped mid-sentence, seeing that Aang had already mastered the move. She was disappointed. Begrudgingly, she showed him a new technique, a harder one that she had yet to master; however, where she had failed, Aang succeeded.

In the present, standing on that bridge, Katara could only frown while she watched the sour look on her own face. Was she that jealous back then, that insecure?

The images jumped around and she saw herself back by the river with Aang again. He was holding open the waterbending scroll for her to read.

"The single water whip," she read aloud. "Looks doable."

She raised a stream of water and whipped it around, but it hit her in the forehead, leaving a red welt. Sokka, who was sitting cross-legged on a rock behind her, laughed.

"What's so funny!" she snapped.

"I'm sorry, but you deserve that." He turned to at Aang. "You've been duped. She's only interested in teaching herself."

A cold knot of shame formed in the pit of her stomach. Sokka was right. She had only been interested in teaching herself at the time. She couldn't help but think how selfish she could be back then, how self-centred. Her mother would have been so disappointed in her.

"Argh! Why can't I get this stupid move!" She stomped her foot in annoyance.

"You'll get it," Aang reassured her, but this only angered her more. He then formed the water whip correctly on the first try. "You've just gotta shift your weight through the stances." He gracefully manipulated the whip for a few seconds and then dropped it back into the river. "There. See, the key to bending is—"

"Will you PLEASE shut your air hole!" she exploded. "Believe it or not, your infinite wisdom gets a little old sometimes. Why don't we just throw the scroll away since you're so naturally gifted!"

Katara closed her eyes in embarrassment. Had she really said that to him? Had she really looked like that? Her envy and her insecurities—she wore them brazenly like a badge of shame, but now was not the time to dwell on them. She could no longer just think about herself. That wasn't who she was. She had to keep moving.

More images appeared after that, but Katara continued onwards. It was hard to watch her past, but it was harder still to resist it when she was surrounded by it. The images began to form a familiar pattern and, as the scene played out, her breath hitched in her throat. This was what she didn't want to see: a piece of her past that she didn't want to relive; something she didn't wish to ever experience again. But she had to relive it. There was no turning back.

It was in these images that she saw her brother, younger than he was now, popping his head out from a snow fort only to have a snowball smashed in his face. The culprit, a young Katara, giggled as she watched her older brother try to heave a snowball as big as his body. He was about to throw it, or have it drop back down on his face, when he looked up. Katara glanced up, too. Black snow was raining down on them like soot.

"I'm going to find Mom," she said, running past Sokka.

Young Katara weaved her way through the crowd. She was so tiny that she was almost trampled on. But as the warriors rushed past her towards the icy shore, she soundlessly slipped inside her family's hut and pushed aside the curtains.

"Mom!"

Her words died in her throat when she saw her mother on her knees in front of a Fire Nation soldier. The man turned to look at the young Katara and older Katara felt the familiar dread return to her stomach, but this time it was accompanied with pure hatred. This was the man who had killed her mother.

"Just let her go," her mother pleaded, "and I'll give you the information you want."

"You heard your mother." The Fire Nation soldier motioned towards the exit. "Get out of here!"

Katara whimpered, "Mom, I'm scared."

"Go find your dad, sweetie," she said. "I'll handle this."

A reluctant Katara looked up at the soldier before turning and pushing past the curtains. She ran from the house as fast as she could, as fast as her little feet could carry her. She stopped at the edge of a small hill and looked down, spotting her father.

"Dad! Dad!" Hakoda was throwing a firebending soldier hard into the snow, but glanced up at the sound of his daughter's voice. "Please, I think Mom's in trouble! There's a man in our house."

Her father let go of the soldier immediately. "Kya!"

They both ran back home, Katara behind her father as he pulled back the curtains.

"Mom?"

Katara's throat felt pinhole thin. Now she finally understood why Zuko had been so afraid to relive his past. The pain was as immediate as it was soul-annihilating. It felt as though a knife had been plunged into her heart, twisted so that it would never heal. She never wanted to see this again, but here it was, frozen in time. It was a reminder of her mother's sacrifice.

She wanted to turn away. She wanted so badly to escape inside herself and let the pain consume her, but she couldn't. Such luxuries couldn't be afforded to her here, not now, not with another's soul in the balance. So with a broken and bleeding heart, Katara moved forward into the abyss.

.

ஐ

·

ZUKO WATCHED AS Katara's shoulders trembled, yet her head was still held high as she took a step forward. He wouldn't admit it, but he was amazed by her conviction. His mother had left him, yes, but he had never witnessed her death. He had never seen her burnt, lifeless body laid bare before him. This memory he was sharing with her was plain cruel. However, he now understood why Katara had hated him; why when she thought of the Fire Nation, she had pictured his face.

Inexplicably, he felt need to reach out to her. He wanted to put his hand on her shoulder and tell her that it was okay to cry; to tell her that her mother had died for her and that was the greatest sacrifice a parent could ever make. But he couldn't. He couldn't do or say anything that would make her feel better. He was powerless, and it angered him more than he thought it would.

His eyes returned to her back, watching her shoulders square back once more with that dogged determination that she wore like a trademark—no, like a banner. She was strong and tenacious. She was like him in some ways but stronger, so much stronger. For the Fire Nation had taken away her mother like they had taken away his. It was something they had in common.

.

ஐ

·

KATARA COULD SEE the light at the end of the bridge, a faint glow in the distance. Her steps seemed lighter now and she almost raced towards the exit. But then the light went out and the fog lifted and lowered, curling around her. It invaded her, consuming her every pore, and blurred her vision until she was blindly trudging forward.

And as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. The fog once more parted like curtains and a thin strip opened down the bridge. At the end she saw the soft glow of the exit and something else, something far more heart-stopping. It was her mother.

Katara's body trembled. Of course it wasn't going to be easy. She wasn't just going to be shown images of her future, present and past and simply be allowed to leave. She was going to be tempted, really tempted by the solid-looking image of her mother standing in front of her.

Katara was so close now that she could hear her mother breathing, could smell the gentle fragrance of her hair.

"Katara." Her mother's voice was so soft, exactly how she remembered it.

Katara's own voice had strangled in her throat. She blinked back tears. It was a trick, she told herself. It had to be. Her mind screamed at her to not trust this image before her, that Zuko's soul depended on her actions. She could not break now when she had come this far. However, her mother looked so real, so solid and alive. She could see the rise and fall of her chest, the wind blowing through her hair, and the wet tears welling in her eyes.

"Katara, come to me. It's so cold down here without you."

That did it.

A whimper escaped Katara's lips and she clamped her hands over her mouth. Tears streamed down her face without abandon. Had she spoken aloud? Had she called out to her mother? She didn't know. However, the look on her mother's face didn't make matters better. Katara could already feel her hands leaving her face and reaching out to her mother, her lips parting open to speak, but suddenly she stopped.

Katara wanted this. She wanted this more than life itself. But it wasn't her soul she was gambling with; it was Zuko's. Her mother, her real mother would never want her to do this. She would never ask Katara to sacrifice someone else for her own happiness.

Swallowing tightly, Katara let her hands fall limply to her sides, along with her tears. She kept walking, her bottom lip wobbling as she went. She could feel the cold mist as she brushed past her mother's form. She could feel her own tears freely spilling down her cheeks and neck.

I'm sorry, Mom. I love you. I love you so much, but I have to do this.

She looked ahead, her vision blurred by tears, and continued on until she could no longer feel her mother's presence. That was when she finally saw the stairs: a set of white steps leading up into the clouds. And as she drew nearer, the exit began to glow brightly. She raised one foot on the step and then another, ascending, and suddenly she saw Yue bathed in a white light. She was floating down towards her.

Yue?

The princess was reaching out to her, and Katara dumbly lifted her own hand to grasp the young woman's. The touch was misty but warm, slowly growing solid. Katara studied the hand for a second, no longer seeing the lightly umber-tanned skin or the dainty slender fingers. Instead, this new hand was bigger, masculine and pale.

She looked up and her eyes widened in shock. Zuko?

It was not Yue holding her hand now but Zuko. He was above her, the white backdrop of the clouds surrounding his head like a halo. He was smiling sadly, and then he was gone.

Katara screamed.

ஐ

HE WAS GONE! Zuko was gone, sent to hell because of her!

Katara knew it. She could feel it in the bottom of her heart like a gaping, festering wound. She looked for him but couldn't find him. He was gone. The light was so bright now; it was blinding her. Everything had turned white and, against her own volition, Katara closed her eyes. And just before slipping into the null void of unconsciousness, she called Zuko's name.

ஐ

KATARA BOLTED AWAKE with a gasp. Her tunic was soaked through at the back with sweat, trapped between her coat so that the cold tingled against her wet skin. She brought a shaky hand to her face and patted it gently, as if to test that she was real.

Her fingers swept up into her hairline, running through the loose tendrils that had come undone from her braid. She breathed heavily, trying to slow her rapid-beating heart. She collected her thoughts. She remembered reaching the exit, the bright light and Yue's hand reaching out for hers. She made it, she told herself. She made it back to the living world. But then another, far more worrisome thought surfaced: Zuko didn't make it.

She turned, expectant to see the prince sitting up and regarding her with his trademark gloomy glare, but he was lying still on the ground where she had left him. His eyes were closed and his mouth was still open in that faint O of shock she remembered all too well.

He looked so young.

"Zuko!"

She quickly scrambled over to his pale, prone body and yanked apart his coat, exposing his skin to the icy elements. She put her ear against his chest. There was barely any warmth left in him, no rise and fall of his chest. Nothing. He wasn't breathing.

"This can't be happening," she whimpered, lifting her head as she put two fingers to the pulse of his neck. There wasn't one.

She began to panic, feeling the wash of fire and ice swimming through her veins as if being pumped by a hummingbird's wings hell-bent on destroying what was left of her fragile heart. Gathering her wits, she drew water from the snow and placed her palms over his chest. She could do this, she told herself. She just needed to restart his heart. No big deal.

Her hands trembled as she bent the water. It glowed a pale blue and she tried to remember what Yugoda had taught her about healing, but her mind had drawn a blank. All she could focus on was his pale, lifeless face staring up at her. This was not what she wanted.

This was not what she wanted!

"Breathe, Zuko! BREATHE!"

Fresh tears stung her eyes, dripping down her cheeks and mixing with the healing water. Trembling fingers coated with ice caressed his skin, but there was nothing, no reaction, just her cold fingers on his equally cooling skin.

"I was supposed to save you," she whispered. "I was supposed to—"

Her fingers suddenly jumped as a pulse beat rhythmically beneath. She could feel Zuko's chi, the fire reigniting within him. His throat wobbled and he began coughing hoarsely, shifting beneath her. Golden eyes struggled to open, peeking out through long lashes. He managed another broken cough then, before shakily sitting up and covering his throat with his palm.

Katara released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're alive!"

Zuko was thrown back, knocked down by the sheer force of her weight. He cried out in pain, and Katara quickly disengaged herself and helped him back to a sitting position. He stared at her, confused and mystified, his hand still caressing his bruised throat.

"Where am I? What happened?"

Katara's eyes widened in surprise first and then worry. Suddenly she was lunging forward again, her hands on his face. This time her lips locked with his and Zuko's eyes bugged open in abject shock, staying that way for a half second before lazily drifting shut. His long lashes fluttered against her cheek as her lips bruised against his with an incessant pressure.

After a few seconds, Katara slowly broke off the kiss, nudging her nose against his as she pulled back. Zuko's eyes were still closed and his mouth half open. Soon his eyelashes began to flutter and his eyes shot open. A look of bewildered recognition registered in his burnished gold eyes.

"Uh, nice to see you, too?"

Zuko's good eye was as wide as a saucer plate and his hands were on her shoulders, keeping her back at arm's length in case she should pounce again. Katara wasn't sure how or when his hands got there. Zuko didn't seem to know either, because suddenly he was staring down at them in dawning horror before abruptly pulling away as though she had just scalded him.

"You remember me?" Katara asked, biting her swollen lip in anticipation.

Zuko regarded her with a baffled expression, as though she had just asked the stupidest question in the world. "Of course I do. You killed me and then hauled me out of the Spirit World." He eyed her warily before leaning even farther back. "Why were you kissing me just now?"

"Agni said—" she was speaking quickly, too quickly for him to fully comprehend "—Agni said that you wouldn't remember anything when you returned to the surface, and that I'd have to kiss you to make you remember and—"

Realisation hit her as subtly as a lobbed brick. Her face instantly drained of colour and just as quickly flushed a bright pink.

"That sneaky little bas—"

"Ah-ah." Zuko put a finger to her lips. "No cursing the gods. It'll bring you bad luck."

Katara blushed several more shades of pink and Zuko lowered his hand, an effulgence of colour blossoming on his own cheeks.

"So that's what Lord Agni wanted to speak to you about in private?" he asked, and she nodded shyly.

"Yeah. I guess gods like to play tricks, too."

They both turned away and sat down on the cold ground in silence, until Katara finally worked up the courage to look at Zuko's face again. She noted the ropey scar on his neck with a slight frown.

"I can heal that for you, if you want." She pointed to his throat and made a motion across her own neck when he gave her a look of utter bewilderment.

"Sure," he said gruffly, but she could still see the slight tint of blush on his cheeks.

A few seconds later, Katara had Zuko lie back down. She gathered the water into her palms and placed the healing liquid over his neck and let her fingers do their work. She could already feel his chi responding to hers, the torn skin knitting itself back together, weaving over and over until the pattern was whole again.

Once finished, she lowered her hands and smiled proudly at her work. She had to admit she did a rather good job. There was barely a noticeable line on his throat now. His skin was as perfect and pale as before.

Zuko sat up and put his hand to his throat, examining it. A faint smile surfaced on his lips when he could no longer feel the ropey bump that was there before.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome."

Katara's smile widened and she rose to her feet. Zuko stood with her. There was an awkward tension settled between the two of them now, not animosity but something else. Katara wondered if they should talk about what just happened but reconsidered, thinking maybe it was best this way. They both talked enough at Varuna's palace, and they had both seen enough of each other's pasts to last a lifetime.

It was then that soft rays of sunlight peeked their way through the opening of the cave. Both teenagers turned towards the light. The storm appeared to have passed and it was now clear outside. The rising of the sun enticed them, tempting them to leave the comfort of the cave.

Once outside, Katara could see the moon still hanging in the sky, paling in the brightness of the overshadowing sun. Aang and the others must have saved the day somehow, and she smiled at the thought. She should have never doubted her friends, never doubted the Avatar. The moon still existed, cohabiting with the sun in the same sky, if only for a little while—much like her and Zuko.

She took in a deep breath of fresh air and grinned at the thought. "Do you think we could have been friends?" she blurted out.

Zuko looked down at her with eyes that seemed to glow in the reflecting sunlight. "Is that all you good guys care about—friendship?"

"That and saving the world from pompous princes who think they're above everyone else."

"Meet a lot of those types, huh?"

"All the time."

Both tried to hold a straight face, but they eventually gave in with the ghost of grins before turning away. There was tension and embarrassment and definitely awkward silence, but it really wasn't all that bad, Katara thought. But then she could feel Zuko's eyes on her and the back of her neck became unbearably hot.

"No," he said.

She looked up at him, nonplussed. "No, what?"

"No, I don't think we could have been friends," he answered truthfully. "Not before you killed me, anyway."

"Oh." Her shoulders dropped. Why did she feel so disappointed? "And now?"

"Now?" Zuko contemplated the idea for a moment and nodded slightly. "Maybe."

He smiled a tiny, private smile and Katara felt a sudden jolt inside her heart. There was a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes, and she returned his smile with a curt nod of understanding.

"After all, you did risk your eternal karma for me," he said, trying to restrain a smirk. "I'd hate to have to come fetch you from the Spirit World later on down the road."

She stared up at him slack-jawed for a moment before slapping his arm. "Good to hear you've gained a sense of humour through all of this, Your Highness."

"It's all thanks to you, Water Peasant," he said with a smirk, before dodging her tiny fists and spinning away.

Just then a dark shadow fell across the tundra. Katara and Zuko stopped their struggle and glanced skywards. A large white object was streaking across the sky. Katara let out a sigh of relief at the all-too-familiar sight of Appa coming into view. The giant sky bison then dove towards the ground and landed on the snow with a grunt. Aang had already floated off Appa's neck while Sokka leapt out of the saddle, accompanied by a surprisingly nimble Iroh.

"Katara!" the airbender cried happily, running towards her.

"Aang!" Katara's arms were already wrapped around the Avatar, pulling him into a tight hug before she moved onto her brother, smiling into his neck. "Sokka!"

The three pulled apart and glanced over at Zuko in surprise. Aang had a goofy grin on his face that Katara was sure wouldn't disappear any time soon, while Sokka's brow had furrowed so deeply it seemed to have disappeared into the bridge of his nose.

"Isn't he supposed to be dead?" He hooked his thumb in Zuko's direction, and Katara swatted his hand down.

"Sokka!"

"Nephew!" Iroh exclaimed with great relief, finally having caught up.

He threw his arms around a half-protesting Zuko, who finally gave in and returned his uncle's embrace. After a while, Iroh released him, holding the young prince at arm's length so he could examine him for any signs of injury.

"Praise the spirits you're alive!"

Iroh pulled Zuko in for another hug and the prince smiled softly, awkwardly patting his uncle's back before pulling away.

"Uncle, what happened?" he asked. "Where's Zhao?"

Iroh's expression darkened. "Admiral Zhao is dead. His fleet is retreating as we speak."

Zuko shook his head in disbelief. "But how?"

"This young Avatar here." Iroh turned, motioning to a now crest-fallen Aang. The airbender looked both sad and guilty. "It's a long story, and I will have to tell you over tea sometime, and hopefully you will tell me your story."

He spared a brief glance at Katara before turning back to his nephew, offering him a knowing wink, which only made Zuko frown.

"Wait," Katara suddenly cried out, circling in the snow. "Where's Yue?" She wasn't on Appa. She hadn't come with them.

"She sacrificed herself so that Tui could live." Sokka's face was pale with sorrow. "She's the Moon Spirit now."

Aang put a hand on the older boy's arm and looked up at Katara with sad grey eyes. "It probably doesn't make a lot of sense, but—"

"No, it makes perfect sense." It was Yue who had reached for her at the end. It was Yue who had brought her and Zuko safely home. "Sokka, I'm so sorry."

Her hand was on his other arm, caressing it gently, and he lowered his head with a sigh.

"I'm just glad you're safe," he said, glancing up and regarding his sister with eyes as blue as hers.

"Me too," Aang added, and Katara smiled sadly.

"Prince Zuko?"

Katara turned to see Iroh addressing the already retreating prince.

"What's the matter, Fire Prince?" Sokka taunted. "Not going to try to capture Aang here now that you know what my sister can do to you?"

"Sokka!" She felt a blush of anger and shame settle on her cheeks.

"No, we're even for now." Zuko nodded back at the city behind them. "You go back to your victory celebration. I'm sure they're waiting for you all."

He was about to turn to leave, when Katara broke away from her brother and Aang and took a bold step forward. "Zuko, I—"

"We'll meet again, Waterbender," he said, cutting her off. There was a hint of that private smile on his lips, and Katara was unable to stop her own smile in return.

"Yeah." She nodded. "See you soon, Your Highness."

Katara then raised her hand in farewell and Zuko returned it briefly before finally turning away. She lowered her arm and watched him leave with his uncle—to where, she did not know. Would he try to capture Aang again? She didn't know this, either. She didn't really know anything at this point.

What she did remember were the glimpses of her future. She remembered the lightning he would take for her and, because of that, she smiled. She couldn't explain why, but she knew the gamble she took on him was worth it. She knew that she had made the right choice.

She would see this lonely prince again, she told herself. In this lifetime or the next. For in both life and death, their souls had become inextricably bound.

.

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·

THE WHITE-HAIRED GODDESS smiled as she watched the scene unfold in the celestial waters.

"The sun meets the moon and worlds collide," Agni said, as he watched the teenagers part ways. He leaned over Varuna's shoulder. "Do you think it was wise to allow this girl to return with him to the living?"

The pale-haired goddess lifted her chin to meet her companion's gaze. "The moon would be very bored indeed without the sun constantly vying for control, my dear Agni. You above all should know that." She lovingly caressed his cheek. "Let the worlds collide, I say."

Agni smiled, pressing his lips into her palm. "Forever and ever, my queen."

·

"The gates of hell are open night and day;
Smooth the descent and easy is the way.
But to return and view the cheerful skies;
In this the task and mighty labour lies."

·

~ fin ~

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Author's notes: The idea for this story was loosely based on The Death of Eurydice. Thanks for reading and reviewing!