The ice courtyard of the Northern Water Tribe filled quickly, murmurs rippling through the crowd as word of Katara's bold challenge spread. Warriors leaned on their spears, healers huddled under cloaks, and children peeked nervously from behind their mothers. The fountain shimmered in the middle, its surface as calm as the breath before a storm.
Aang wrung his hands, whispering, "I'm sure she didn't mean that."
Sokka groaned, dragging a palm down his face. "Yeah… I think she did."
And then the doors opened. Katara stormed out, coat discarded, the frigid air biting at her but not slowing her stride. She looked small compared to the towering walls of ice, but her eyes burned with defiance.
"You're crazy!" Sokka hissed, running after her. "You're not going to win this fight!"
Katara didn't look back as she tied off her sleeves. "I know. I don't care!"
Aang ran beside her, desperate. "You don't have to do this for me. I can find another teacher."
"I'm not doing this for you!" Katara snapped, planting her feet in the plaza's center. Her breath plumed in sharp white clouds. "Someone needs to slap some sense into that man."
And as if summoned, Pakku descended the steps of the citadel. His robes whispered across the ice, his expression carved from stone.
"So," Katara spat, "you decided to show up."
Pakku walked past her without a glance.
Her fists tightened. "Aren't you going to fight me?"
He turned just enough to sneer. "Go back to the healing huts with the other women where you belong."
That did it. Katara's arms whipped forward, snapping streams of water into crackling whips. They cracked against the ice, halting Pakku mid-stride.
He sighed, raising his hands. "Fine. You want to learn to fight so badly? Then study closely."
Twin streams surged from the pools, curling like snakes. Katara charged, but the currents slammed her back, encircling them both in a ring of rushing water.
"Don't worry," Pakku said coldly. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Katara snarled, twisting the water at her feet and redirecting it. The blast missed Pakku—but struck Sokka square in the chest, drenching him.
"Hey!" he sputtered, slipping on the ice.
Pakku flicked his wrist, raising a wall of ice to block Katara's advance. She slid up its slick surface, vaulting onto a post. He melted the wall beneath her, sending a roaring torrent her way—but Katara froze her boots to the ground, anchoring herself. The stream split harmlessly around her.
"You can't knock me down!" she shouted, breathless but unyielding.
Some in the crowd cheered.
"Go, Katara!" Aang yelled, fists pumping.
Off to the side, Jinx leaned casually against a frozen pillar, gnawing on a strip of dried seal meat. His violet eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Impressive," he drawled just loud enough for Aang to hear. "Your girl sure is good for someone untrained."
Aang blinked, heat rushing to his cheeks. "M-my girl?"
Jinx's grin widened as he leaned closer, lips almost brushing Aang's ear. His voice dropped into a teasing purr. "And I don't mean friend. I mean girlfriend~."
The poor Avatar practically combusted on the spot, face redder than a firebender's flame. Jinx chuckled, the sound low and wicked.
Katara lunged again, liquefying Pakku's defenses and striking fast, but he ducked each blow. With a snap of his hands, he whipped her into a pool. She emerged dripping, hair plastered to her face, only to summon a sharp pillar of ice. From it, she hurled discs like blades.
Pakku deflected most, but one whistled so close it sliced a strand of his beard. He frowned, irritation breaking through his calm.
Katara pressed, sending a surging stream his way. Pakku caught it, twisted, and sent it back with crushing force. She was thrown across the plaza, skidding hard.
Panting, Katara forced herself up. She slammed her palms into the snow, raising twin pillars and collapsing them down on him. Pakku dissolved them into a swirling mist, then froze the haze into glittering daggers that rained down. The crowd gasped as Katara staggered, her body trapped in a prison of icy shards.
Pakku turned, brushing snow from his sleeves as though the matter were settled. "This fight is over."
But Katara's voice rang out, raw and fierce. "Come back here! I'm not finished yet!"
"Yes, you are." Pakku's gaze flicked down—and froze on the necklace at her throat.
He bent, lifting it gently. His face changed, for the first time in years, sorrow softening the frost. "This necklace… I made it. Sixty years ago. For the love of my life."
Katara blinked, stunned. "My Gran-Gran was supposed to marry you?"
The plaza fell silent, the revelation heavier than any blow.
The fleet was ready. Fire Nation banners snapped against the wind as the massive ships prepared to head north. Deep within one of the vessels, Zuko moved quietly in disguise, blending in with the shiphands. The faint smell of coal and saltwater clung to everything.
Iroh intercepted him in the corridor, carrying a steaming teapot as if he were just another officer going about his duties. His voice was calm, low, careful.
"Our plan is working perfectly," Iroh whispered. "Zhao doesn't suspect a thing."
Zuko tugged his hood lower. "You didn't have to do this."
"No nephew of mine," Iroh said firmly, "is going to stow away on a ship without some backup."
Zuko's hard expression softened briefly. "Thank you, Uncle."
The sound of a door creaking open made them both stiffen.
"Someone's coming," Iroh muttered. "Stay hidden until we reach the North Pole. Then the Avatar will be yours. Good luck."
They split off into the shadows just as footsteps echoed down the passage.
Northern Water Tribe
In the great hall, the weight of history hung heavy. Pakku's voice was solemn as he held up Katara's necklace, the carved blue stone glinting in the lamplight.
"I carved this for your grandmother," Pakku said, his face shadowed with memory. "When we were engaged, I thought we would share a long and happy life. I loved her."
Katara's breath caught, but her anger didn't falter. "But she didn't love you, did she? It was an arranged marriage. Gran-Gran wouldn't let your tribe's customs chain her. That's why she left. It must have taken… a lot of courage."
The words struck deeper than she realized. Yue, standing nearby, covered her mouth. Her eyes glistened as she turned and fled, her pale hair flashing like moonlight as she ran.
"Go," Aang urged quickly, looking at Sokka. "Go after her."
Sokka hesitated only a heartbeat before sprinting out.
The night was cold, the stars sharp above the shimmering canals. Yue stood on the bridge, her hands gripping the railing as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. Sokka slowed his steps, approaching with unusual care.
"What do you want from me?" Yue asked without looking at him, her voice trembling.
"Nothing," Sokka said honestly. "I just… I think you're beautiful. And I never thought a girl like you would even notice a guy like me."
Yue's shoulders tightened. "You don't understand."
Sokka's voice cracked, but he pressed on. "I think I do. You're a princess, and I'm… just a Southern peasant."
"No, Sokka…" Yue finally turned, eyes full of pain.
He forced a crooked smile. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything. I'll see you around, okay?"
But Yue grabbed his hand, pulled him closer, and kissed him. Sokka blinked, stunned, his heart hammering. "Okay, now I'm… really confused. Happy, but confused."
Yue's voice broke. "I do like you. A lot. But we can't be together—and not for the reason you think. It's because…" She pulled her collar down, revealing a carved betrothal necklace. "…I'm engaged. I'm sorry."
She ran, her figure fading into the shadows.
Sokka stood there, staring after her, his fist clenched around nothing. "I… I really hate this place."
The next morning, the training grounds were full of sharp air and sharper words. Aang worked at shaping water into streams, wobbling and straining. Pakku watched with his usual stone expression.
"Not bad," the master said. "Keep practicing and maybe, just maybe, you'll manage it by the time you're my age."
Aang turned with a scowl, but his expression lit up when he spotted Katara walking up. "Hey, Katara!"
Pakku's eyes narrowed. "What do you think you're doing? It's past sunrise. You're late."
"Good to see you here," Aang said warmly, ignoring Pakku's glare.
"You too," Katara replied with a faint smile.
Then Jinx appeared at her shoulder. Katara's good mood died instantly; her glare shot daggers.
But Jinx simply raised a finger, pressing it gently to her lips before she could speak. His violet eyes glowed with teasing amusement.
"Now, now," Jinx drawled, voice soft but cutting. "I don't feel like hearing your racist comments. If you want to keep traveling with the Avatar, you'd better let that hatred go. He's supposed to interact with every nation—including the Fire Nation. You can't stand at his side with bitterness in your heart."
Katara froze, caught between outrage and the sting of truth.
Jinx went on, casually, almost conversational. "Besides, my mother came from the same tribe as you. My eldest sister? A waterbender. My twin? Probably one too. I still love them all. And the Moon and Ocean themselves told me to travel with the Avatar." He leaned closer, his grin faint but sharp. "So forgive me if I don't have the energy to deal with your little hatred issues."
Katara's glare faltered, and she looked away, lips pressed tight.
Aang, uncertain, glanced between them. Pakku watched from a distance, his frown deepening. Yue, hidden at the edge of the training ground, pressed her hand to her chest—torn between fascination and unease at how easily Jinx unsettled them all.
Katara's glare didn't waver at first. She opened her mouth, ready to hurl something sharp back at Jinx, some cutting defense of her own pride. The words caught at the back of her throat, though. She realized—painfully—that his finger on her lips had silenced her, but it was his truth that stole her voice.
Her jaw tightened. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that her anger was justified, that all Fire Nation blood carried guilt. But the thought of her mother, of her father still out there fighting, of Gran-Gran leaving behind her own traditions—all of it twisted inside her.
And suddenly… her comeback dissolved into nothing.
Jinx lowered his hand, his smirk fading into something more deliberate, something almost… heavy. His voice came low, patient, each word carrying the quiet weight of wisdom.
"You'll need to come to terms with something, Katara. Not all people are the same. You cannot look at them with one lens, only your own. To see someone clearly, you have to look through their perspective, their past, their choices. Only then do you understand who they are."
He leaned back, eyes half-lidded but sharp, as if he were measuring the impact of his words. "If you don't learn that… then you'll end up no better than the people who wronged you. And you'll never be able to stand by the Avatar's side—not truly."
The courtyard was silent. Even Pakku, watching from a distance, stilled at Jinx's tone.
Katara swallowed, her lips pressed tight, and for once… she had nothing to say.
The night air shimmered with the heat of countless engines, the sea black as ink beneath the looming silhouettes of warships. Zhao stood tall at the prow of the lead vessel, his armor glinting in the torchlight. Beside him, Iroh's expression was unreadable, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across his calm face.
"My fleet is ready," Zhao declared, his voice carrying over the deck like a drumbeat. "Set a course for the Northern Water Tribe."
The order echoed through horns and shouts, sailors rushing across the decks.
From above, the ocean seemed to tremble. Dozens of Fire Navy ships lined in perfect formation, their furnaces roaring to life. Smoke curled into the night sky, thick and menacing, while red light pulsed from the heart of each engine. One by one, their bows cut through the waves, the fleet stretching across the horizon like a steel wall.
The sound was deafening—iron, fire, and ambition grinding together. The sea itself seemed to recoil.
The camera panned wider still, revealing the full scale of Zhao's invasion force as it surged northward. The faint moonlight glittered across the endless line of ships, a dark tide moving inexorably toward the icy fortress of the Northern Water Tribe.