The Kyoshi Warriors emerged at sunrise, their fans snapping open in unison. Zale jolted awake to the glint of painted metal. "Hands where we can see them," their leader ordered, her voice sharp as the blades in her sleeves.
Aang yawned, rubbing his eyes. "We come in peace! See? No bending!" He wiggled his fingers.
Suki, the warrior with emerald eyeshadow, stepped forward. "You trespass on sacred ground. Identify yourselves—now."
Katara bristled. "We're not Fire Nation!"
Sokka trying to unhand himself fought back but had his ass handed to himself by one Kyoshi warrior.
When he was on the ground trashed by the warrior, he shout, "We are the Avatar team, don't you get it that we come in peace!!"
Zale then whispered, "But not that much of "PEACE" huh, Sokka?"
"Prove it," Suki said, eyeing Zale's Water Tribe parka. "The Avatar's been dead a century. You expect us to believe this kid—"
Aang's staff twirled, slicing a gust that sent cherry blossoms swirling. The warriors froze.
"...Okay," Suki conceded, lowering her fan. "That's proof" She turned around freeing Sokka, "Then follow us, Avatar and his so called "TEAM"", taking a jab at Sokka.
The village unfolded like a painted scroll—lacquered bridges arched over koi ponds, wooden homes with upturned eaves nestled among plum trees. Zale gaped. This isn't a studio backdrop. The air smelled of pine resin and steamed buns.
"Incredible, right?" Aang grinned, balancing on a railing. "Reminds me of the Eastern Air Temple!"
Sokka elbowed Zale. "You look like Appa seeing a cloud."
Zale touched a carved pillar. "I'm just amazed…"
After meeting the Village leader, everyone went their own way, Team Avatar spread out to do different things and have fun for a while, according to Aang.
In the dojo, Suki's boot planted between Sokka's shoulder blades. "Dead," she declared.
"Cheap shot!" Sokka wheezed.
"War doesn't play fair." She tossed him a fan. "Again."
Zale watched from the sidelines, peeling lotus roots for dinner. In the show, this humbling makes Sokka grow. But here—
THWACK. Suki disarmed Sokka in three moves.
"Still think skirts are impractical?" she teased.
Sokka flushed crimson. "I'll master your… spinny things!"
"They're called war fans, genius."
After a while, Zale was going through their rations for the journey, he realized they were short on many things, and one of those things were money. To buy things they needed money, so only option for them to get money was to earn. And to make Sokka to understand it, was the hardest thing he had ever done without punching him on his face. So, he took it upon himself to go find a job, and the only skill that could give him a job was his cooking. He visited all the restaurants on the village searching for a job.
The teahouse owner scowled at Zale's offer. "Outsiders don't touch our stoves."
Zale plated a pre-prepared dish of seared tuna drizzled with fire-orange sauce—a riff on sushi meets Szechuan. "Taste first. Judge after."
The owner nibbled. Paused. "...You're hired."
By week's end, Zale's "Dragon-Turtle Rolls" funded their supplies. Katara marveled at his coin pouch. "How'd you do this?"
"Turns out 'fusion cuisine' blows minds here," Zale said, stuffing lychee candies for Momo.
The attack came suddenly, destroying peace of the village. Zuko's warship loomed, catapults launching fireballs. Thatch roofs ignited. Screams tore through cherry blossoms.
Aang spun, air shielding villagers. "Get to the hills!"
Zale froze, a pot of broth boiling over. Suki tackled him as a blast shattered the teahouse. "Eyes open, chef!"
On the beach, Katara bent a wave to douse flames. "Zale! Help me!"
He reached—but only a trickle answered. Why now? Why—
The original Zale's voice echoed: "Bend with purpose, not panic."
He inhaled. Focused.
The tidepool surged, drenching a fireball mid-air, and extinguished one of the burning roof.
The village burned. Smoke clawed at Zale's lungs as he sprinted through the chaos, the screams of children piercing the roar of fire. A toddler wailed near a collapsing roof—Zale lunged, yanking the boy into his arms as embers rained down. Behind him, Suki and her warriors clashed with Fire Nation soldiers, their fans slicing through the haze.
"To the shrine!" Zale barked, herding a group of children toward the stone structure at the village's edge. A fireball seared past his shoulder, but he pivoted, summoning a shaky wall of water from a nearby trough to douse the flames. Not enough. Never enough.
At the shrine, an elderly woman pressed a hand to Zale's chest. "You've done enough, stranger."
No. I haven't. He turned, and saw children crying in pain due to burns. It was hard to look at them, his brain raced on how to help the people. His arm rose subconsciously, an orb of water formed on his hand, a green hue came from the water. The water spirits spoke to him," Heal them" in a whisper make his skin crawl.
Without thinking much, he began healing the children, they didn't really have big or fatal injuries so in just few minutes, he was able to heal 15 children.
BOOM!!
Hearing the sudden impact, Zale ran outside. Spotting Zuko on the beach, shouting orders to his crew. Rage boiled in Zale's veins. The ocean roared in response.
"STOP!" Zale's voice thundered as a wave erupted from the shallows, slamming Fire Nation soldiers into the surf. Zuko staggered, his scar twisting into a snarl. "You think a parlor trick will save them, peasant? The Avatar is mine!"
"They're children! Innocent people!!" Zale screamed, water swirling around him like a storm. "Your honor isn't worth their lives!"
For a heartbeat, Zuko faltered—his father's voice warring with something older, quieter. Then his fists ignited. "You know nothing of honor."
"Zale, MOVE!" Katara's water whip snapped past his ear, extinguishing Zuko's blast. Sokka hauled him onto Appa, Momo chittering frantically.
"Go, go, GO!" Aang slammed his staff down, a gale propelling Appa skyward. Below, the Unagi's massive form breached the waves, its tail smashing Zuko's catapults.
Zale slumped against the saddle, his hands raw and trembling. "I… We couldn't save them. I just—"
Katara clasped his shoulder. "You saved dozens. That's enough."
"It's not!" His voice cracked. "They're homeless because of us!"
Sokka glanced back, uncharacteristically solemn. "Blame the jerk with the scar. Not yourself."
After some time, the gang travel through the ocean from island to island.
The islands were a mosaic of turquoise lagoons and emerald jungles, untouched by war. Coconut crabs scuttled across ivory beaches, and the air hummed with the songs of unseen birds. Zale stood knee-deep in a tidepool, watching minnows dart between his toes. Peace, he thought—but the word felt fragile, like glass.
"Race you to the waterfall!" Aang cartwheeled past, Momo clinging to his shoulder.
"We're supposed to be training," Zale called, but the Avatar was already a speck in the sky.
Katara sighed, braiding her hair into a battle-ready knot. "He's twelve, Zale. Let him breathe."
"Breathing won't stop fireballs."
The argument erupted at dusk.
"You're the Avatar," Zale snapped, hurling a water whip at a palm trunk. It splattered harmlessly. "Act like it!"
Aang's grin faded. "I've fought Zuko three times this month. Can't I just… be for a day?"
"The world won't let you 'be'!"
"ENOUGH!" Katara's shout silenced them. "You're both right. And both wrong."
Aang stalked off. Zale sank into the sand, fists clenched.
Aang found him at midnight, perched on a moonlit cliff. "I'm sorry," the boy murmured. "I… I'm scared. If I stop moving, I'll remember what I lost."
Zale's anger dissolved. "Me too."
They sat in silence until dawn, the sea murmuring below.
Without scrolls, Katara drilled basics: push, pull, pivot. Aang mimicked her, his water sloshy but earnest. Zale lingered at the shore, bending spirals into jellyfish shapes.
"Show-off," Sokka teased, until Zale sculpted a water replica of his face—complete with cowlick.
Katara paused. "How are you doing that?"
"I don't know. It just… feels right."
Aang grinned. "Like airbending! You're listening."
The tiger-shark struck at noon.
Katara screamed as its fin circled her. Zale reacted instinctively—water surged, encasing the beast in a shimmering orb. It thrashed, then stilled, mesmerized by the swirling currents.
"Let it go," Aang whispered.
Zale released. The shark fled.
"You didn't attack," Katara said, awed.
"Water isn't for hurting," Zale replied. Not yet, he thought, remembering bloodbending's chill.
That night, Zale dreamt of the original Zale's mother again. She stood in a glacial forest, ice blooming like lilies under her touch. "True strength flows, it does not force."
He woke with frost on his fingertips.