Sokka took a deep breath for a full minute until he finally recovered. However, upon remembering the argument, his jaw tightened with rage, and a deafening bang echoed through the place; he had struck a palace wall with such force that it formed a huge crack that anyone would mistake for the impact of an enemy projectile.
He ignored the muscle pain that was beginning to subside thanks to his resistance from chi control. But the effect was minimal due to the depletion of his own energy.
A few meters away, a twenty-eight-year-old soldier watched Sokka walk heavily through the empty city in his dirty, torn, and worn-out clothes. That man hated himself; he was one of the many Northerners who despised him as a useless savage from the South, but upon seeing his leadership and strength that night, he realized how wrong he had been.
"Please, let me help you," he said, running toward him upon seeing him stumble.
Sokka glanced at him with an amused smile. "Damn, I must look worse than that old man over there if you're coming to help me," he pointed to a sixty-year-old veteran in the distance.
"Haha, I have to admit you look bad," the soldier admitted with amusement. "But my help is in gratitude for saving us."
Sokka observed the sincere gratitude on his face. "Alright. Helping you after you welcomed us and taught my sister waterbending is my duty."
"I'm truly sorry we were so useless. My name is Siku."
"Alright, Siku, could you take me to the healers at the shelters?"
The soldier accepted immediately and helped him walk. He didn't even question his motives or think Sokka was fleeing out of cowardice. Upon arriving at the enormous shelter full of families, the guards quickly let them pass. What Sokka didn't expect was to see his sister and the Avatar there.
"Sokka!" Katara ran toward him worriedly, as did Aang.
"Could you heal me?" was all he said, maintaining his haughty smile.
The healers guided them to a private corner. There, Sokka got into a water pit in the ground, letting the icy liquid relax his muscles while half a dozen healers, along with Katara and Aang, healed him with their glowing water. Siku stood to the side, guarding him.
"All your muscles are exhausted and torn, young man," warned an elderly healer.
"You overdid it again!" Katara scolded him with annoyance.
"Of course, or did you expect me not to push myself while rocks were falling from the sky?"
Aang smiled slightly before turning serious. "You hurt yourself by concentrating your energy on..."
"Yes," Sokka interrupted him before he could reveal information about his chi control. "When I use that much force at once, my body gets damaged, but it's better than last time," he added, speaking in euphemisms about the battle at the Fire Temple in front of Siku and the healers, who only believed Sokka possessed superhuman physical strength. And he wanted to keep it that way.
Sokka glanced sideways at those present; the lack of privacy bothered him. "That's enough. You can withdraw; I'll take it from here," he ordered firmly.
The head healer nodded in surprise and led the others away. Katara immediately took over with her waterbending alongside Aang, while Siku remained a couple of steps back, guarding the entrance.
As the water became translucent, Sokka's torso was exposed, revealing an imposing, dense physique marked by deep scars from cuts and burns from past battles. As the waterbending penetrated his tissues, Sokka felt the muscle fibers torn by chi reconnecting at an accelerated speed, becoming more compact and dense. It was a real and permanent increase in his natural physical strength; his body was adapting to withstand more pressure.
"So?" Katara asked in a low voice, moving the water over his shoulders. "What happened in the war room? You look like you want to kill someone."
Sokka closed his eyes, leaning on the edge. "The elders are cowards, Katara. Especially Talik. He suggested we lock ourselves in the palace and wait two weeks before counterattacking. Two weeks!"
Aang almost lost control of the water, incredulous. "Two weeks! But Sokka... by then the full moon will be gone. We'll lose the moment when waterbending is at its strongest."
"Exactly. But those old men care more about their lineage. Talik insulted me and the tribe; he called us ignorant and 'primitive,' a backward civilization. They want us to sit around and do nothing."
Upon hearing "primitive," Katara felt such pure indignation that her hands trembled. She wanted to scream at them how wrong they were and the real progress her brother had built in their true home.
"Primitive?! How dare that stupid old man?!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "You were breaking projectiles while he was hiding! After we abolished their laws two months ago, they dare to look down on us like this?"
"His pride still stings," Sokka replied. "But I set him straight; I smashed the war table with one blow. If Pakku hadn't stepped in, the old man would have fainted from fright."
Katara and Aang were speechless. They were so overwhelmed and exhausted from the battle that night that it hadn't even occurred to them to propose an alternative plan or interfere; the exhaustion was overwhelming.
"And what did Chief Arnook say?" Aang asked, dismayed.
"Arnook is overwhelmed and scared. He postponed the decision until tomorrow morning. But the enemy didn't launch that attack at random; their target was the events tower to take out the leaders in one blow."
Katara fell silent, absorbing the gravity of the situation as she guided the water over her brother's chest. Sokka, for his part, remained absolutely silent about the identity of who was commanding the enemy fleet; he would use that card later.
"They want to delay everything until our strongest phase passes..." Katara commented tiredly.
"Yes, they want us to lose the momentum of the full moon. If we let this opportunity slip, we'll hand the North over on a silver platter. And those old men will be the first to open the gates for the Fire Nation just to save their luxuries."
Sokka stepped out of the pit, fully recovered. Standing up, he flexed his fists, feeling a much denser and renewed physical power running through his arms. Siku stepped forward to hand him a dry blanket, amazed at the number of scars this young man had on his torso. Sokka draped it over his shoulders and looked at the tired faces of Katara and Aang, as well as all the civilians in the shelters.
Since the women had begun healing him until now that Katara and Aang had fully healed him, more than an hour had passed, and the bombardment had started again. Impact after impact, the people inside trembled with fear, even though the rumbling was faint due to the great distance from the impact zone.
"How about some music to sleep to?" Sokka said to himself as he pulled out his bone flute.
Taking a large breath, he began to blow into the flute, his energy starting to infuse his breath. A calm, beautiful melody began to resonate throughout the place. Second after second, fear began to be replaced by a strange tranquility and drowsiness that they found soothing.
"Did Sokka used to play this music in the tribe?" Aang asked Katara with a yawn.
The young sister responded with her own yawn and answered: "No, sometimes he played to put the children to sleep, but never as effective as this."
Aang smiled slightly, but a voice began to sound in his mind. At first it was only a faint vestige, but little by little it began to grow stronger. Fury and desperation were evident with ferocity: "Don't fall asleep, Aang! Wake up!... He...!"
But Aang couldn't hear the last sentence as he collapsed to the ground. Sokka let the flute fall when everyone fell asleep. But he collapsed along with his instrument; he felt a burning in his throat, as if breathing air was scorching his vocal cords. It was then that he began to cough, with such intensity that Siku rushed over to him.
"Sokka, are you alright?" Siku asked desperately as he saw the young warrior before him begin to spit blood, until it became pure blood vomit. "I need he—!"
A dry blow to a specific point on his neck made him faint. Sokka had knocked him out with a chi block.
He himself was desperate about his current situation; he never foresaw this happening. It took him seconds to understand his situation: using hypnosis repeatedly with an ephemeral chi reserve to protect his throat had caused this damage—an effect he hadn't noticed in two months because he was always with his energy full.
Fortunately for him, the waterbending chi he possessed was independent of his own internal energy, as it was the temporary power the Moon and Ocean Spirits had granted him. Controlling water, he began to heal his throat; the coolness filled him and vitality increased, healing him completely.
"Motherfucker..." the Southern leader complained.
He needed to recover his energy, but doing it the conventional way would take him weeks. Sokka had already left the shelters and cleaned his blood from the floor, in search of the wild beasts of the place. He knew exactly where the captured wild beasts were.
It took him 20 minutes to arrive and find 5 captured polar lions. He couldn't help but laugh at the irony, for that spirit lion from years ago was the first being from which he absorbed vital energy. The beasts roared savagely, but repeated blows to their necks knocked them unconscious.
Sokka placed his hands on two lions and began to absorb their energy. One by one, they served to recover. Feeling his chi, he realized it was less than half, but enough for this battle. Calling the small storage spirit, he ordered it to store the lion corpses, and he decided to rest on the roof of a house.
Looking at the sky, he began to reflect on the war meeting and the dispute that occurred there, as well as Arnook's actions. There had to be a way to take advantage of the situation. There were eight elders who supported his plan and twelve who were against it and preferred to wait. A sane yet incompetent leader would choose the second option.
But Arnook, despite being incompetent, was no longer so sane; the stress he must have felt from his first battle, as well as the worry for his daughter, didn't let him think clearly. The pressure he must have felt was immense, knowing his people wouldn't support him if they found out he decided to ignore Sokka, their savior. But the hatred of his generals would be even more disastrous if they saw him favoring an outsider.
After thinking for twenty more minutes, he finally reached a conclusion, and to be honest, he believed that was the most likely one.
The next day, Aang woke up startled and scanned the shelter desperately. "Katara!" the Avatar called his friend.
"What happened?" the Southern waterbender asked sleepily.
"We have to check on all the citizens! Where is—?"
"Be quiet, Aang, people are still sleeping," Sokka replied with slight annoyance.
"What did you do to us?!" the Avatar asked with an angry face, making Sokka look at him with a raised eyebrow.
"What's wrong with you, Aang?" Katara asked angrily.
"He... did something to us with that music... Roku told me that..."
A loud, annoyed sigh resonated in the place, silencing Aang. But his furious gaze didn't waver.
"Roku again..." Sokka let out a deep voice.
"He..." This time, Aang began to hesitate upon seeing that everyone in the shelter was fine.
"What do you mean by Roku? What was that song supposed to do?" Katara asked indignantly.
"He must mean that I induced sleep with the song I played last night," Sokka said with annoyance.
Katara looked at him confused, and Aang maintained his vigilance.
"But of course, Aang, Roku must be right; he's always right, isn't he? I must have hypnotized them to kill them or do something, and not because I wanted to provide them with a peaceful sleep during this time of battle."
Upon hearing those words, the young Avatar seemed to realize his mistake. Roku had told him that Sokka had interfered with his chi flow and mind, and that he probably did it to control him or hurt the people in the shelters. But the young Avatar woke up fully, in the same place, and the citizens were completely healthy and sleeping peacefully.
"Sokka, I..."
"Enough. I have enough things to worry about right now, Aang, and honestly, I'm tired of your Roku bullshit. I've proven countless times that he's wrong, but it doesn't seem to matter to you," Sokka said with palpable fury. "I'm leaving; Arnook is waiting for me."
And so Sokka stormed out of the shelter with force. Aang felt guilty, and Katara was angry at the Avatar.
But Sokka wasn't. He walked with a victorious smile on his face. Discrediting one of the most incompetent Avatars in history, Roku, gave him great satisfaction.
Because he had foreseen this situation since he realized Aang seemed worried before falling asleep from the hypnosis. It was then that it didn't take him long to plan his response.
The young Avatar tried to apologize to Katara, but she pushed him away. The stress from the Fire Nation siege had consumed her, and dealing once again with Aang's suspicions toward Sokka because of Roku was something she was no longer willing to tolerate. She was fed up.
"That's enough, Aang! You have to do something about Roku; he's wrong, and he's only making me start to hate you."
Katara's words sounded heavy, filled with a weariness and sadness Aang had never heard from her before. The Avatar lowered his head, overwhelmed. At the beginning of their journey, Sokka had seemed incredible to him: a cunning leader with immense strength. Even though Aang didn't approve of the violence Sokka wielded without flinching, he considered him a friend. But since the winter solstice, when he first met Roku, the ancient Avatar's warnings had only poisoned his mind.
"I see in him the same ambition and danger as in Sozin," "He doesn't sleep; only a dark spirit would do that—he's possessed," "An ordinary human can't possess that strength," "He's altering your chi; he'll make them all sleep so he can kill them and take over the North!"
Every word from Roku was laden with stale judgment against someone who had only helped them.
"Sokka was right..." Aang murmured with regret. "I think Roku wants me to kill him just because Sokka reminds him of his own failure to stop Sozin."
For his part, Sokka walked flanked by a guard escort. This time, the meeting would not be held in the war room; Arnook had decided to move it outside the palace, in the presence of warriors, lower-ranking generals, and several civilians who had snuck in to listen. The Southern leader raised an eyebrow, puzzled by the sudden change of venue, but ignored it. The location didn't alter his plans.
When Arnook appeared, the weight of leadership was visible on his body. He was hunched over, with deep dark circles and a gaunt face. All the glory and haughtiness from days ago had vanished in the first night of bombardment. Sokka smiled inwardly, though he maintained an expression of feigned annoyance.
"I have made a decision," Arnook announced loudly. "Sokka, you are incredibly young, and your achievements in containing the enemy attack are undeniable. You will undoubtedly go far."
The Northern generals began to tense up, sensing where the chief was leaning because of all the flattery.
"That is why, if you ever need a favor from the Northern Tribe, do not hesitate to ask. I promise I will fulfill it," Arnook continued, and Sokka nodded seriously. "Because of this, I have decided to execute Sokka's attack plan. However, the mission will be placed under the command of the masters Son, Lack, and the warrior Hahn."
The place erupted in murmurs and indignation. Son and Lack were high-ranking generals who despised Sokka, and Hahn, Yue's betrothed, hated him to death.
Arnook saw the fury on his generals' faces and watched as Sokka turned to leave with apparent indignation. At that instant, the Northern chief understood that his attempt to please both sides—adopting the outsider's plan but giving command to his trusted men—had failed completely. He had only managed to anger everyone. Frustrated, Arnook withdrew.
Sokka, however, walked with a hidden smile. His prediction had been exact: the incompetent chief had chosen the worst middle-ground option. Now, he only needed those arrogant elders to fail on the battlefield.
After walking for a long while through the outskirts of the citadel, Sokka entered a hidden structure of compressed snow—a shelter he himself had built when he began his hypnosis experiments. There, his messenger hawk awaited him. The poor bird had gone months without flying a mission, but it rubbed happily against him as soon as it saw him.
"Alright, friend. You're going to deliver a letter soon," Sokka said, stroking its beak.
The hawk chirped excitedly as it saw Sokka take out a piece of paper. The Southern strategist took no more than a minute to write the message, and spent two more drawing the recipient's face with precision.
Sokka left the shelter with the bird perched on his shoulder, contemplating the imposing Fire Nation fleet on the horizon.
"Take this to the large ship with golden ornaments. Deliver it to her."
The hawk stared fixedly at the portrait of the young woman, tilted its head a couple of times to lock onto the target, and took off with force, disappearing into the winter sky toward the enemy armada.
Sokka watched it fly away toward the distant flagship and, with an imperceptible click of his ability, vanished from the spot, reappearing instantly on a hidden balcony within the Northern Tribe. The stage was set.
Walking through the semi-destroyed area, he found Katara training her waterbending alone. His sister's face showed annoyance.
"I thought waterbending needed tranquility," he said with amusement.
Katara turned her face toward him quickly and looked at the amused smile on his face. "I really don't understand how you can be so happy with how Aang treats you."
"Well, to be honest, all his hostility comes from Roku and from me killing enemies. But I think he'll stop listening to Roku's nonsense soon."
Katara looked at him without believing his confidence. "I don't think he will," she said with annoyance.
"Come on, Katara, I know you're angry, but for now it's better to focus on something more constructive."
"Like what?"
"Your waterbending, for example," Sokka said with a small laugh.
"My waterbending is perfect," she snapped.
"Well, let's say you learned Pakku's style perfectly and some tricks I taught you."
Katara just looked at him in disbelief. "Whatever. You need to learn or discover more and better techniques, for example..." he said thoughtfully. "Can you compress water?"
"Of course, I always do it when generating whips and water rings, although it's a bit heavy, it doesn't take much effort."
"That's good, but I mean if you can compress a large amount of water, like this."
In quick, precise movements, Sokka drew out and controlled an enormous amount of water from the canals. Second after second, the amount grew larger, and in a few seconds, the young leader began to concentrate it between his two hands.
Katara watched how the gigantic mass of water compressed into a small ball, smaller than a closed fist. But as the sphere formed, the ground beneath Sokka's feet cracked, denoting its massive weight.
"Like this," Sokka said, showing the small liquid sphere between his arms. "And in the end, you use it to pierce... Piercing Water," he said as a small stream of water shot out with incredible pressure.
Sokka had aimed at the ground beneath them, and the water flowed with force until there was nothing left.
"That was incredible, Sokka!" Katara exclaimed excitedly.
"Yes, by compressing the water into a sphere and then controlling a small stream so that pressure does the rest under your control, it creates a great technique. But don't use as much water as I did," he said between amused gasps.
"You really are amazing."
Not far from them, the young Avatar was advancing to find them; he wanted to apologize genuinely. He had finally understood what a terrible friend he had been.
Sokka had given them everything: support, food, shelter, and training, and he had only repaid him with prejudiced looks, anger, and distrust. But no more.
That's why, when he found his two Southern friends, he ran toward them with determination, ignoring the cracked ground and the small hole in the ice.
"Please, forgive me, Sokka! I promise I won't listen to Roku anymore, and I will never distrust you again," the Avatar exclaimed with sincere shame.
Sokka looked at him and sighed. "It's not just about Roku, Aang. It's also you and your incessant attempts to impose your pacifist ideology and your 'no-killing' stance."
Aang looked at him stunned. He hadn't realized that, or perhaps he hadn't wanted to.
"The way you look at me every time I kill someone who, moments before, tried to kill me or an innocent person—the way you look at me when I neutralize them, whether by breaking bones or knocking them out," Sokka listed the reasons one by one. "You always look at me with fury, a fury you don't even direct at the Fire Nation, even when you see them tormenting villages."
"I..."
"I know that's how the monks raised you, that for you all life is sacred, and anyone who breaks that earns your repudiation. But that is a hypocritical ideology," he stated with brutality.
Aang felt his chest tighten as he remembered all the furious looks he had given Sokka after saving villages or in every fight.
"Why do they—who only kill and enslave for fun—earn your looks of sadness and compassion, but when I take a life to save dozens more, I earn your repudiation?"
Katara placed her hand on Sokka's shoulder in support.
"And yes, I said that your ideology, the ideology of the Air Nomads, is hypocritical. Throughout the centuries, there have been countless airbenders who killed and ate meat—hundreds who decided to abandon or betray their friends for killing, when they themselves at some point ended up doing it."
"No, Sokka, I assure you that's not true!" Aang tried to convince him.
"It is. In my tribe, there were records—records so ancient they date back to Yangchen's era. She was an Air Avatar like you, but she had no qualms about taking lives for the good of others, and she even ate meat."
Aang was stunned by such words.
"There is even a record of when it was discovered that Kyoshi was the Avatar, during a meeting the false Avatar of that era had, along with Kyoshi and her teachers, with a female pirate leader who called themselves the Fifth Nation."
The Avatar listened with genuine surprise and bewilderment.
"In the record of that meeting, the airbender master who tried to teach the false Avatar is mentioned—Kelsang. It mentions that his nickname was the Living Typhoon. Can you imagine why he was called that?"
Sokka asked, but didn't wait for an answer.
"It wasn't for his great control; it was for the great number of pirates' lives he took while protecting ordinary people."
Of course, those records were false, and that information was obtained by Sokka from reading novels in his past life, and at this moment he was glad he had. Although there actually were records of the Fifth Nation and their leader.
"I'm not asking you to be a killer or anything like that, Aang. I'm only asking you to change your mistaken perception. Because even airbender masters wiser than you and I knew that taking a life, for the sake of saving many more, is not a sin."
That was Sokka's final statement. He planned to say that he knew Aang clung to his beliefs and that those same beliefs had led to their extinction, but he wouldn't stoop that low. Not yet.
What he didn't know was that Aang, despite his great pain and shame, had found meaning in his words.
"Forgive me, I'm truly sorry, Sokka. I will never judge you for that again. Now I understand that your circumstances are different from mine, and that you've lived closely with death, and I have no right to judge you. So please, forgive me. I know I've been selfish and hypocritical in many of my actions, but I don't want to lose you... You, Momo, and Appa are all I have left, and I don't want to lose you."
Katara hugged him upon seeing tears beginning to fall from Aang's eyes.
"I know you understand now, Aang, which is why I accept your apology," Sokka said, joining the hug.
And so they spent the afternoon reconciling, telling stories.
About what life was like for Aang at the temples, about how Katara and Sokka told him what their life was like before their father left for war. They told him how everything had improved and, of course, omitted Sokka's waterbending.
But this time, the Southern leader told him about Tagaka, the leader of the Fifth Nation from over four hundred years ago, and how she pretended to be a non-bender who only fought with her sword, but was actually a waterbender by birth.
Sokka joked that he had been inspired by her, and Aang just laughed with amusement, but Katara did understand the truth of those words.
---
On the outskirts of the Tribe, on the largest and most regal ship, Azula lay on the bow alongside Mai and Ty Lee, the latter hugging the princess with amusement. The three had been reflecting on the previous night when a hawk landed in front of the princess. She looked at it strangely for a few seconds until she realized it contained a letter.
The Fire Princess approached and took the letter without hesitation. In it lay written an attack plan against her, though calling it an "attack plan" was generous. Just a simple warning: at dusk, two waterbenders and a warrior would attack you.
A smile formed on her face, and Ty Lee approached to hug her again.
The Fire Princess let out an amused smile. "It seems there will be fun tonight. They want to kill me stealthily."
Those words chilled Mai—not because of the death threat to her friend, but because of the calmness with which she said it. Without a doubt, she must not forget how twisted and dangerous this girl was.
And so night fell on the Northern Tribe, amid haste and nervousness masking the fear and anger of those chosen to carry out the mission of a plan they didn't want to follow.
Stealthily, they left the tribe at midnight, without their own citizens noticing, and avoided enemy surveillance with ease. In fact, everything seemed extremely easy to them: the infiltration and evasion. But they ignored that bad feeling.
On the contrary, they began to believe that their own plan might work, which was to enter, cause some commotion by attacking the guards, and then flee. According to them, that would be enough to be rewarded for their valor and, at the same time, survive.
But when they reached the royal ship and advanced upon seeing it empty, in an instant they found themselves completely surrounded by soldiers and by their own fear.
"I thought the Northern warriors were brave and strong when they planned to attack me stealthily, but seeing your expressions, I can't help but feel disappointed," Azula said with a slight pause, smiling with amusement.
The old waterbenders and young Hahn panicked, their hearts beating uncontrollably and their hands trembling without control.
"Damn it, if it weren't for that bastard Sokka, we could live in the tribe and plan a surrender!" said one of the elderly waterbenders with frustration, heard by his two companions.
Hahn remembered the Southerner with annoyance—how he had a natural charisma and innate power and leadership. But above all, he had Yue's affection.
That's why he hated him. That's why he had behaved like an idiot since he first saw him. Envy had corrupted him, and his sense of inferiority had surfaced.
Because for him, Yue was nothing more than a tool to become tribal chief—a stepping stone he could use to reach the top. He had never felt bad about this; he had never regretted seeing Yue as nothing more than a simple object. But when he arrived and was humiliated that first and second day, he realized something: he was pathetic.
Born with upper-class comforts and an unjustified ego, it made him act pathetically superior. Pathetic physical abilities, pathetic martial arts compared to Sokka.
But in front of these enemies, in front of that monster in the form of a beautiful woman... this time at least he would be honorable. He would show Sokka that he could be more than a pathetic spoiled child.
Gripping his spear tightly, he charged forward with all his strength. The waterbenders followed behind him—not for the same reasons as him, but because they didn't want to die.
The soldiers were taken by surprise when Hahn ran one of them through without warning. Hot blood splattered his face as he kept advancing, not giving them time to react. His spear moved with a fury he had never felt before—a mix of desperation and wounded pride that drove him forward.
"Come at me, bastards!" he shouted as his spear pierced the side of another soldier.
The deck of the great ship became a hell of water and fire. The waterbenders launched waves that pushed the soldiers back, but they responded with flames that illuminated the night. Hahn moved among them like a cornered animal, dodging what he could and taking what he couldn't.
As he fought, his mind filled with thoughts he had never had before. He remembered the first time he saw Sokka—that confident smile, that security he himself had faked his entire life. He remembered how Sokka had defeated Pakku and Talik, how he had given orders on the wall as if he were born for it, how he had looked at Yue with a calmness he could never fake.
And for the first time, he understood why she had chosen him.
Hahn was not a good man. He had not been a good betrothed. He had not been a good warrior. He had been an arrogant coward, a spoiled child who saw others as stepping stones. He had hated Sokka for being everything he couldn't be, and he had hated Yue for choosing someone who wasn't him.
A knife grazed his left arm, opening a deep cut. He didn't feel it. A spear strike hit him in the ribs, and he felt the crack. He kept advancing.
He grabbed the bone mace hanging from his belt and used it to smash another soldier's helmet, while with his other hand he kept swinging the spear. The soldiers began to retreat before his fury, but there were too many. A spear lodged in his right thigh, and Hahn fell to his knees for a second before getting up and breaking it with a dry blow. He pulled the tip from his leg and used it to stab another soldier in the neck.
The waterbenders fought alongside him, but one of them fell with his chest pierced. The other, wounded in the arm and leg, could barely stand. Hahn saw them and felt a mix of rage and pity. They didn't want to be there. Neither did he, but it didn't matter anymore.
As he kept fighting, his mind filled with images of Yue. He remembered her smiling, but not for him. He remembered her looking at Sokka with a warmth she had never given him. And he felt a pain that didn't come from his wounds.
He should have been better. He should have been more. Not for honor, not for glory, but for her. For someone who deserved more than a coward who only saw her as a stepping stone.
A second spear pierced his right shoulder, coming out through his back. Hahn let out a muffled roar but kept fighting. His main spear was already broken, so he picked up another from the ground and used it to bring down two more soldiers. A third approached with a sword, and Hahn struck him in the face with the mace, feeling the bones break under the impact.
A third spear lodged in his left side. This time the pain was so intense it almost brought him down. But he stayed standing, his breathing ragged, blood pouring from his wounds. The soldiers surrounded him, but they no longer approached with as much confidence. They had seen more than twenty of their own fall.
Hahn took advantage of the moment of hesitation to attack again. He took the knife from his belt and drove it into the neck of a soldier who hesitated for an instant. Then he turned and struck another with the mace, breaking his arm. But as he did so, a fourth spear pierced his abdomen, near his stomach. Hahn fell to his knees, the spear protruding from his torso, blood gushing out.
He coughed up blood. He felt his life slipping away. But he still had the strength to get up. He ripped the spear from his body with a scream and hurled it at a soldier, piercing his chest. Then he staggered to his feet, picked up another spear from the ground, and kept attacking.
His mind remained full of thoughts. He remembered all the times he had despised Sokka, all the times he had spoken badly of him, all the times he had wished for his failure. And he felt shame. A deep, bitter shame that burned in his chest more than any wound.
He had been an idiot. An idiot blinded by his own ego, by his own fear of not being enough. And now, with death approaching, he understood what really mattered.
A fifth spear pierced his left leg. A sixth, his right arm. A seventh, his back. Every time a spear pierced him, he pulled it out or broke it, and kept fighting. The soldiers no longer laughed. They no longer mocked. They just wanted that demon to die already.
An eighth impact hit his shoulder, and Hahn felt his right arm stop responding. So he used his left. A ninth and tenth spear lodged in his chest and side, and he was still standing, though barely.
The waterbenders at his side had already given up. Their bodies were covered in wounds, their faces full of tears and fear. Hahn looked at them for a moment and felt disgust. Disgust for them, for himself, for everything.
"Why don't you surrender, damn it?" shouted a soldier, his voice trembling.
Hahn didn't respond. He took the spear lodged in his side, ripped it out with a final effort, and hurled it at the soldier who had spoken, piercing his neck. The man fell without a sound.
Those who remained looked at him with horror. He was standing, with more than a dozen spears embedded in his body. Blood covered his entire torso and fell to the ground, forming a pool beneath his feet. But he was still breathing. Still alive.
Hahn felt the weight of his own body for the first time. His legs no longer responded. His left arm could barely hold the mace that remained in his hand. Blood dripped from his chin, and each breath was an effort, a pain, a reminder that his time was running out.
But he felt no fear. Only a strange peace, a clarity he had never had before. He remembered Sokka. He remembered him with envy, with rage, with admiration. And for the first time, he understood that greatness was not measured in titles or lineages.
He also remembered Yue. And he felt something he had never felt before: regret. A deep and sincere regret for having seen her only as an object, for having underestimated her, for not having been the man she deserved.
And then, amid that pain and sadness, he felt something else. Pride. Pride in not having fled. Pride in not having surrendered like the elders who accompanied him. Pride in having shown Sokka that he could be more than a pathetic spoiled child. Pride in having shown Yue, even if she would never know, that he too could be someone worthy.
His knees hit the ground with a dull thud. The spear he held in his hand fell beside him. His eyes were clouding over, and his breathing was growing weaker. But he was still alive. Still looking at the soldiers who surrounded him, their spears ready, their faces pale and trembling.
One last soldier approached, confident because of the state he was in. Hahn saw him coming and smiled. With what little strength he had left, he raised his left hand, took the knife still on his belt, and drove it into the soldier's neck before he could react.
The soldier fell at his feet, and Hahn let out a weak laugh, interrupted by coughing and blood.
"I... in the end I wasn't pathetic... Sokka, I'm sorry. Yue..."
His final words came with the last of his will, almost a whisper, but still loud enough for Azula to hear.
The waterbenders who had already surrendered began to cry for that young man.
As they approached Hahn's body, one of them noticed that his chest was still moving—barely, but moving.
"Princess... this warrior is still alive."
Azula approached and observed Hahn's shattered body. With more than a dozen spears embedded in his torso, covered in blood, barely breathing. And yet, he still clung to life.
A smile of genuine respect appeared on her face.
"Then he's even more impressive than I thought. Lift him carefully onto a canoe. Let him reach his tribe alive. Let them see what happens when they face me, and let them know that even their most capable warriors will die."
The soldiers nodded and, with a care they didn't usually show toward their enemies, lifted Hahn and placed him in a canoe. As they did so, one of them whispered to him:
"You fought well, Northern warrior. You are a brave man."
Hahn couldn't respond. But in his eyes, still open, a glint of gratitude was reflected.
The canoe was pushed out to sea, and the current began to carry it toward the Northern Tribe. Azula watched it drift away, and for a moment, her smile softened.
"Willpower is incredible," she murmured, remembering a couple of elite soldiers she had left in the Earth Kingdom.
Then she turned toward the surrendered waterbenders, who were trembling on the ground.
"And you..." she said, lightning crackling between her fingers. "If only you had been as brave as that warrior, I would grant you a dignified death. But you don't deserve it..."
A lightning bolt illuminated the entire ship, and the night showed two charred corpses.
"Shouldn't we have kept them alive for information?" asked Mai, curious.
"No, we already have enough information. Without a doubt, Sokka, the Southern Chief, is here. That young warrior mentioned him. That's why I must assume that the one who thwarted my attack yesterday was him."
"Wow, Azula, you're truly incredible! With just a few words you knew that guy is here," Ty Lee said excitedly before throwing herself into another hug.
Azula withdrew with Ty Lee clinging to her, leaving behind the bloodstained deck and the echo of the battle.
In the canoe, Hahn floated at the mercy of the current. Each breath was an effort, each heartbeat a reminder that he wasn't finished yet. He would reach the tribe. He would see Yue's face one more time. And although his wounds were mortal, although he knew he wouldn't survive, he felt a peace he had never known before.
The night was cold and silent atop the wall of the Northern Tribe. Sokka had decided to stand guard there, with the full moon illuminating the horizon and the sea of ice. He decided to stay there and try to see how the attack plan failed—it was necessary to achieve his own objective.
It was then that he saw a small silhouette floating in the distance. A canoe.
Sokka narrowed his eyes. Something didn't add up. Azula didn't return bodies. She incinerated them, left them where they fell, or threw them into the sea without ceremony. Why send a canoe? Why let someone return alive?
Without a second thought, he jumped from the wall and slid across the ice toward the shore. Several soldiers and waterbenders followed him, alerted by his movement.
"It's a canoe!" shouted one. "There's someone inside!"
Sokka arrived first. He approached cautiously, and when he saw the shattered body lying at the bottom, his mind began to race. It was Hahn. But not only that: he was still alive. Barely, but alive.
His body was pierced by more than a dozen broken spears, some still embedded in his torso, others torn out by force. Blood covered him completely, forming a thick pool at the bottom of the canoe. His face was pale, almost gray, and his lips barely moved.
Sokka felt a mix of surprise and respect. Azula had left him alive. Not out of pity, but out of respect. That meant Hahn had done something on that ship. Something that had caught the attention of the Fire Princess.
"Quickly!" Sokka shouted, grabbing the canoe firmly. "Take him to the shelter! Bring the healers!"
The men and waterbenders obeyed immediately, carefully lifting the canoe and carrying it toward the tribe. Sokka walked alongside them, jaw clenched, watching Hahn's shattered body. He didn't feel sadness. But he felt something akin to pity. And above all, a deep curiosity to know what had happened on that ship.
When they arrived at the shelter, the healers were already there. Katara had also arrived, alerted by the noise. Sokka saw her enter and said nothing.
The healers worked quickly, placing Hahn on an ice slab and beginning to heal his wounds with waterbending. But their expressions were grim.
"We can't do much," said one of them, her voice tense. "He's lost too much blood. If we had spirit water we might be able to stabilize him, but he won't survive the wait."
Katara knelt beside him and placed her hands on his chest, focusing her waterbending on the deepest wounds. The blue light glowed beneath her fingers, and for a moment, Hahn's breathing became a little deeper.
"He's very weak," Katara whispered. "I can only ease the pain."
Around them, the soldiers and healers watched in silence. Some covered their mouths, others looked at the ground. No one could believe that Hahn—the arrogant betrothed of Yue—was in that state.
Hahn opened his eyes slowly. He blinked several times until his gaze focused on Sokka, who was standing beside him. His lips moved, but barely a sound came out.
Sokka knelt beside him and leaned in to listen.
"Sokka..." Hahn managed to say, his voice barely audible.
"I'm here."
Hahn tried to smile, but only managed a pained grimace. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... for everything... for how I treated you... you and your sister... you're not Southerners... you're brothers..."
Katara, who was still healing him, felt a lump in her throat. Her eyes grew wet, but she said nothing. She just kept moving the water over his wounds.
"You don't have to apologize," Sokka said.
"Yes, I do," Hahn insisted, his voice growing weaker. "I was an idiot... a coward... I envied you... because you had everything I didn't... Yue... respect... strength... And I was just a pathetic spoiled child who wanted to step on others to feel big..."
A violent cough shook his body. Katara placed more water over his wounds, and Hahn's movements calmed, but his breathing remained shallow.
"But at least... in the end I wasn't a coward," he continued, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I didn't run... I didn't give up... I fought until I couldn't anymore... Sokka, do you understand? For a moment... I was a true warrior."
A weak laugh, almost inaudible, escaped his lips. "I took many with me, Sokka... more than twenty... they all fell before me... Can you believe it? Me, Hahn, the pathetic one, the arrogant one... I took more than twenty of those bastards..."
Sokka looked into his eyes and nodded. "I know. And you did well."
Hahn smiled with pride, though the pain twisted his face. "Really? Do you think... that I made it?"
"You made it," Sokka replied firmly. "You fought like a warrior. You didn't flee. That's more than many can say."
Hahn's eyes filled with tears. "Then... I wasn't pathetic... I wasn't a coward... I was a true warrior..."
"That's right," Sokka said, taking his hand. "You were."
Hahn squeezed Sokka's hand with what little strength he had left. But then his expression changed. The smile faded, and something darker appeared in his eyes.
"Sokka..." he said, his voice trembling. "I'm scared."
Sokka felt a blow to his chest. It wasn't sadness, but those words hit him in a way he didn't expect.
"Scared of what?"
"Of dying..." Hahn whispered. "Of this being it... of Yue not knowing I'm sorry... of her thinking I was a coward until the very end..."
Sokka squeezed his hand tighter. "She won't think that. I'll tell her the truth. That you fought like a warrior. That you didn't flee. That you took more than twenty enemies with you."
Hahn closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, a tear rolled down his cheek. "Yue..." he said, his voice breaking. "Tell her to forgive me, Sokka... please... tell her to forgive me... that I'm sorry I was trash... that she deserved someone better... she always knew it... she always knew it... but let her know that in the end... I wasn't a coward... tell her to forgive me, Sokka... tell her to forgive me..."
Sokka felt a lump in his throat. "She will forgive you," he said. "Yue will. I'll tell her."
"Really?"
"Really."
Hahn's tears flowed faster, mixing with the blood still seeping from his wounds. "Thank you... thank you, Sokka... I'm sorry I called you a savage... I'm sorry for everything..."
He paused, and his gaze drifted for a moment, as if he saw something others couldn't.
"My parents..." he said, his voice even weaker. "Tell them I'm sorry... that I love them... that they were the best... and to forgive me for leaving early... that their son fought with honor."
Sokka nodded slowly. "I'll tell them."
Hahn smiled weakly, and his eyes closed for a moment before opening again, almost devoid of light. "I wasn't a coward... I was a true warrior... I made it... I was a true warrior... I made it..." he repeated over and over, his voice growing fainter with each repetition.
Katara, with tears in her eyes, took Hahn's other hand and squeezed it gently. "You made it, Hahn," she said, her voice breaking. "You were a true warrior. And your parents will know. Everyone will know."
The soldiers and healers watching in silence also felt the weight of the moment. Some lowered their heads in respect. Others wiped away tears. No one spoke. Only the wind and the sea broke the silence.
Hahn smiled weakly, and his eyes closed for the last time. His hand went slack in Sokka's, and his chest stopped moving.
Sokka looked at him in silence for a long moment. Then he slowly released his hand and stood up.
"May the spirits guide you, Hahn," he murmured softly. "And may you find the peace you were looking for."
Katara stayed a few seconds longer, her hand still on Hahn's chest, before standing up and wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
"He was an idiot," she said, her voice trembling as she remembered him speaking badly of Sokka and the South. "But in the end... he wasn't."
Sokka looked at her and nodded. Then he turned and walked out into the cold night, leaving behind Hahn's body and the silence of the shelter.