A youth with silvery-white hair carefully trekked through the thick snow. It was an early morning, the sun barely risen in the southern skies. He was focused, scanning every trace of what he'd been tracking for the day. He'd been training for many months in hunting, a passion he adored just shy of his spearmanship.

This was his very first hunt alone. A test to prove he was capable. Because he was so young, his father didn't want him to do it. He wanted Ayaan to wait until he was at least twelve and had more training, but the mature eight-year-old insisted.

It took a few months before his father agreed, with a little help from Uncle Bato. By then, his spearmanship was so good he'd beaten most of their warriors already. His dad's second in command thought he was ready, at least for small prey. On that premise, he was allowed to go on his first hunting voyage.

It was a rite of passage, but more ambiguous than that of the Ice Dodging Trials. There wasn't an age limit for it, but waiting until after the Ice Dodging Trials was usually recommended. Success depended on not only if one was able to bring back a hunt, but of what kind of hunt it was.

That usually required skill, and that often came with age. The purpose is to be mindful, and to practice awareness both in one's self and surroundings. It is a cautionary trial, but not a necessary one needed for adulthood.

Ayaan still wanted to participate. No, he felt he had to. If his father was to go to war one day, he'd be left in charge of the tribe. He wanted to prove, without a doubt, that he could provide everything they needed until they returned. He wanted to prove how reliable he was.

His father always saw him as a child. He was a child, but not the same as the other children. Ayaan was more than a kid, he was a warrior and a hunter. He was more than capable of helping him! He'd sped through many of his lesser trials because he was naturally gifted.

So here he was, three days into his trial and tracking the hunt he chose. He wanted to hunt something that had multiple uses, and chose a Fox Hare. They traveled in husks, large groups, and burrowed beneath the snow during the day. While fast, a well-timed arrow is enough to safely hunt them.

Their pelts are thick, but gentle enough for babies. Their bones vary in size and could be made into fine needles for stitching clothes and training weapons for children. While not having a lot of meat on them, being small, it was still good. The most important thing, however, was a gland the hare had which was the base of many ointments and medicines the tribe was able to make.

Ayaan had gotten a good amount in the three days he'd been hunting, more than enough for the village. But as he was heading home, he heard a strange call. It was an animal song he'd never heard before then. Something was calling from a distance. In response, something called back, but theirs was much weaker.

He followed the songs.

It was then that he came across an odd set of tracks near the river. It was a large indent in the side ground, sliding along the surface sporadically. But what caught his attention wasn't the tracks itself, but the copious amount of blood they left.

Whatever animal this was lived in the water. It was massive, and it was badly injured. It must have family, and that is what was calling. But it seemed unable to return to them. The river was almost too small to contain its size, but it had no choice but to continue going further in. Trapped by the shifting ice.

It probably didn't know about the other paths in the river it could have taken. It could be young, or foreign to this part of the South.

Something in him screams for him to follow. Before he knew it, he'd spent the next day following the trail. Anyone would have told him not to go after this large beast. Heck, even he would have avoided it completely in any other circumstance.

Even injured, an unknown animal could be a ferocious foe. As much as he boasted about his spearmanship, he was still only eight years old. This isn't something he should be following. But his instincts screamed at him to look for it. Find it, help it. He didn't know why, and back then, he didn't understand enough to question it.

The tracks were sluggish and slow, the blood trail never ceasing. Whatever it was, Its wounds were great. This fact pushed him to go faster.

Soon, he came to the end of the river. It swelled into a basin-like lake surrounded by ice and a few dormant trees. Among the drifting chunks of icebergs was the creature he'd been tracking.

It was a black and white dolphin of some kind, but way larger than any dolphin he'd seen before. It had large teeth, too, sharp and wide. But still, he felt it was smaller than it could normally be. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling this was a calf.

It, no, she didn't know how to get back to her pod after getting hurt, and ending up separated. Now, she was alone here, left with a gnarly slash along her fin, bleeding into the icy waters. It looked agonizing, but not life-threatening as he initially thought it was. He was relieved at that.

Following his heart, Ayaan made his way across the icebergs to the creature, landing in front of her. She startled, but was unable to move anymore. She made a weak squeak towards him, staring at him with wide, intelligent eyes full of tired tears.

"Shh, girl." He whispered. "It's okay. You'll be okay." He got out the small kit he'd brought in case he got hurt. It was just enough to stitch and clean her injury. It would leave a scar, but she'd be able to swim again with some rest.

She didn't struggle as much as he was expecting as he was tending to her fin. For a creature with such mass with equally massive teeth, she was a sweetheart.

Feeding her a few of the Fox Hare meats he'd prepared, she slowly got her strength back enough to swim. For three more days and nights, Ayaan stayed with her. When she was strong enough, he did his best to lead her to open water, where he still heard the calls from the others.

They'd never stopped calling out to her, and she never stopped responding. He found that endearing.

Ayaan knew the rivers well and could tell where to go to find open water. He never questioned why he could always find water, any type that he wanted to. It was a strange quirk he always had. So leading the surprisingly intelligent creature along the safer rivers, he took on the task of bringing her to her family. He was more than capable.

She was a very playful girl, often singing to him to splash with her. She'd nudge him to get into the water, gliding along the currents with him in tow. With his care, the wound had stopped bleeding, and she was a tough something.

Soon enough, they reached open water, where other much larger creatures were waiting for her. Ayaan watched them sing to each other, mesmerized by how the family seemed to dance with the waves. Something told him they were thanking him, showing their gratitude through their dance.

The water moved with them, swaying and rippling. It rose and dipped and swirled, glittering under the moonlight. It was one of the most beautiful things he'd seen.

That's when he noticed the largest of them coming toward him. No, it was wrong to call her large. She was enormous. So enormous he could hardly fathom how large she was. She had massive jaws and teeth, each one of them as big as his head.

But just like the calf, she was gentle toward him. She'd come up to where he was, whistling and clicking at him. If how close the calf was sticking with her was any indication, this creature was either the leader of the pod, the calf's mother, or both.

She came out of the water, showing off her brilliant black-and-white design. Shocking him, she bit into the land, shaking out a single large tooth. She gently nudged the tooth further onto the shore, toward Ayaan.

"You... want me to have this?" She whistled, nudging it more. So Ayaan did, taking the large, and surprisingly heavy, tooth off the ground. He didn't know what to say as the pod bid him farewell, singing their whale-like songs as they did.

"Be safe!" He called out, waving them goodbye with a giddy sense of wonder. When he got home to worried parents and siblings, he gushed about his adventure while showing off the extra Fox Hares he hunted on his way back.

"How in the world did you encounter an Orca pod this far in?" Was his father's shocked response. On his travels out for both fishing and patrols, Hakoda had seen the rare sighting of orcas. But they hardly ever come as close as Ayaan described.

"They're called Orca?"

"Yes, dear." His mother answered. "They are said to be servants of the Ocean Spirit. Seems they took a liking to you. My sweet, handsome boy." She peppered his face with kisses. The affection instantly made the child happy, but this was supposed to be a big boy moment!

"Mom, Haha—no!" He laughed, trying to get away. But the power of doting mothers was too much, and he was trapped getting kisses and tickles. "D-Dad! Help! Ahaha!"

"Oh? Okay then, if you insist."

And he proceeded to tickle Ayaan, too.

"Nooo! Hahahaa!"

The day ended as most happy days did, spending his time with his family. He never saw that particular pod of orcas again, but sometimes he could hear their song echoing during full moon nights.

And that tooth? He'd go on to make it into the main part of his most trusted weapon.

.

.

Katara woke in the wee hours of the morning. The sun had barely risen, dew coating the fresh grass around them. Brisk air entered her lungs as she sighed, looking over just beyond her sleeping bag. Just as she thought, Ayaan was already up, getting to work on his early morning repairs for his still-broken spear.

Splintered guards, broken wood, brittle stone, and bandage wraps were all that was left of the shaft. While the counterweight and blade itself were intact, that was it. The weapon had taken years of abuse on his end, this last fight the final straw.

Katara knew he'd had that spear for as long as she could remember. He'd gotten the blade from a hunting rite he'd done when she was young. It took a long time to properly sharpen and shape the blade. She remembered Ayaan being overjoyed when it was finally completed. That spear went everywhere with him.

Especially during the times after he was burned.

Even if he knew it would break eventually, she could tell it still hurt him on a level she couldn't fathom. These mornings were solemn, and she was unable to bring herself to even say hello.

It had been a week since the Jet incident.

A week since he'd comforted all of them.

A week since they'd spoken beyond that.

The silence. That spirit's awful silence. It was back with a vengeance. Katara felt awful. Every time she'd try to bring up a conversation, to apologize for how she'd acted, Ayaan dismissed her. No, it was more that he couldn't even try to hear her out, too angry to speak.

She knew it would be a while before they could speak normally again. She'd let someone come between her and her family, a family that did nothing but protect and love her since the beginning.

Thinking about it, this wasn't the first time someone else had come between her and her family. The first time had been with Aang, and she'd hurt Ayaan then, too

<"For being a worthless teacher and an even more worthless brother, I hope you can forgive me. Everything I've ever done has been to protect you and Sokka. Everything.">

His love for her wouldn't change. He proved that with everything he did. He warmed their clothes, fed them, trained them, and even hummed to them when they were restless at night.

No, it wasn't his love that she lost. It was trust. That was nil, if not completely gone. It wasn't the trust to be left alone, or doing certain chores. No. It was trust in her to be reliable when a decision needed to be made. For her to think above her feelings and truly look at the signs around her.

If this was a test, then she'd failed with flying colors. Congrats Katara!

There was nothing she could say to gloss over and amend what happened. His silence gave her that answer. When he was ready to talk to her, he would speak to her. Really speak to her outside of simple greetings and training instructions.

But not a minute before, no matter how much she pleaded.

This was her punishment. She deserved this. She didn't know if she could earn that trust back even partially, but she'd try. That was all she could do.

Luckily, the silence was all she was receiving at the moment. It was a mercy. The "Jet" incident had been exceptionally hard on everyone, so they'd mostly taken the week to mentally recover from it. Simple tasks, sightseeing, and concentrating on their journey north.

Ayaan spent his time training or working on repairs. She'd seen his innate frustration working with the other spears he'd gotten from Omashu. She didn't understand why, as he mastered them effortlessly.

But there was something different about how he held them compared to his trusted weapon. Maybe that was the reason for his visible discomfort? If the art of spear fighting was a song, he could make any spear sing beautifully, but nothing compared to his spear.

The spear he'd made from the ground up, his passion.

Now, it was in pieces.

Surprisingly, the one who understood the most about that feeling was Aang. His prized possession had also been ruined in his fight with Jet. While he had ample tools to fix and replace it, it had been a horrid feeling knowing it was broken.

What if he couldn't fix it? Another piece of his home would have been crippled.

He'd been quick to repair it, only feeling relieved when it was. So he understood how Ayaan felt, taking any free moment to salvage what he could using what he had. He didn't have the proper materials to fix his spear to how it was before. So every day he was figuring out what he could do, training with what he had.

And Sokka knew how hard he trained more than anyone. He could read his minute expressions beyond his carefully crafted mask. Holding the shattered pieces of his beloved weapon and the bag with his mother's jewel shards twisted something in Ayaan. As days passed, it just kept getting worse.

Something was gone none of them could replace. Rarely did that spear ever leave his side, Sokka knew how much it gave him peace of mind. But now, he would have to do without it. He'd have to learn to cope without it.

Anyone with eyes could tell Ayaan wasn't doing well.

The bags under his eyes were pronounced. There were times when he'd zone out, trying to listen to the world over his thoughts. What thoughts those were Sokka could only guess. He was irritable and jumpy, the security his spear once gave him gone. He barely slept, often waking abruptly in the night.

He still trained them as he usually did. He hunted as they rested, replenishing his wares and their supply of food rations. He warmed and washed their sweaty clothes and parkas. Groomed Appa and Momo, and trained by himself. He honed his skills in the other weapons he had. Just keeping himself busy in the time he wasn't trying to fix his weapon.

He trained with anything he could get his hands on as a distraction.

During the yawning nights, Ayaan would sit by any water source they came across, a worried Appa and Momo by his side. The bison would often drag him away from the water by his shirt, instead sitting him by the fire on one of his arms. If the boy tried to get up to train, Appa would promptly grab him again before he could get anywhere.

Momo would help, sitting in his lap and refusing to budge. Them doing this was the only reason Ayaan even considered sleeping more. But it wasn't more than a few hours, at best, thanks to his waking nightmares.

He'd wake up instinctively reaching for his spear, only to remember in a panic that it was broken. He'd find himself at the nearest source of water again, trying to calm down alone and forget the horrid memories.

Sometimes it was his mother's death.

Sometimes it was the memory of his torture by that man.

Other times, it's his fear of what could happen on this journey.

Sometimes, it's what's already happened, only much worse.

A million what-ifs, all of them powering him down that evil, detrimental spiral in his mind. Down, down, down he went. It was a great thing that he'd mastered waking up, holding back his screams. He didn't want or need the others to worry about him more than he knew they were.

Sokka only knew about it because he was watching. He was watching more than any other, looking for the signs.

So here they were, a week later, in desperate need of a distraction from the discomfort. All of them needed a break from thinking.

"Alright! That's it!" Aang finally had enough. "Katara, Sokka, come here for a second!"

"Aang?" Katara looked up from where'd she'd been forlornly staring at Ayaan.

Sokka got up from where he was, chewing on a piece of jerky. "What's up?"

"Hear me out." He said, before going into his plan. The boy wasn't blind to the somber mood, or why. So, he did what he does best, trying to help lighten things up. After bouncing ideas off of the siblings, they had a plan and a bit of hope it could work.

And this eager anticipation is what greets Ayaan the moment the three find him, stopping his training for the day.

"A game?" His eyebrow raised in that distinctive confused expression as he lowered the o-naginata in his hands. "You want to make training today into a game?"

"Yeah!" Aang exclaimed, "You've been training us in tracking lately, so I thought we could make a game out of it! You know, just to change things up."

"We can even make up a little prize for the winner!" Sokka added, a knowing smirk on his lips at the gleam he saw in his brother's eyes.

"Winner?" That sounded like a competition. Ayaan loved being competitive. He hadn't had a proper challenge in a long time, battle or otherwise. He could use the distraction. "I'm listening."

"Since you're an expert at hunting and tracking, I thought this could be a little exercise for us since we're new to it." Sokka began readily explaining, "You go into the forest and hide, and it's our job to track you down and find you. When we do—"

"If you do." Ayaan could already feel his competitiveness surging.

Sokka gained a competitive edge of his own, seeing the challenge, "When we do, we have to tag you in some way. We rookies against a master, and the winner gets to demand one thing they want."

"What do you think?" Katara asked, hopeful, "Wanna give it a go?"

Ayaan thought about it. They'd made good distance on their journey so far. There was still a bit of hunting he needed to do to replenish their supply and prepare wares to sell in the next town they visited. This could also work for scouting. Plus, these three looked a little too eager to win.

Ayaan wasn't the type to let someone win easily. "Bring it. We can do this on the move. Get Appa's saddle ready. We can let him rest for a little while. He'll hear that whistle of yours when our games over, and we can get moving from there."

"Alright!" The three cheered. Their plan worked. Ayaan already looked better at the prospect of a competition. He loved challenges. They took a few extra minutes to work out the nuances of this new game they decided to call "tracker", making sure some safety measures were in order.

If anything was to happen or the game needed to stop, they'd blow their whistles. When in hearing distances, Ayaan had trained Appa to listen and come to the whistle with the aid of Momo, who'd help lead him to them. The boy had already trained the lemur in different calls using the whistle. One for food, another to hide, and one to find him.

The smart Momo quickly identified each one, especially the food one. While Ayaan only used it when Momo was flying around and he needed to call him back for his treats. The boy could tell this was easily the lemur's favorite. He was such a little glutton.

Because he was a little glutton, however, he needed the extra bit of training to stay a healthy weight. Momo was nimble, intelligent, and liked games that used those feats. Ayaan, usually in the downtime from training the trio, would set up little obstacle courses for him to explore. His expertise in setting traps helped in this endeavor.

"If you guys can find me," Ayaan added, grabbing their attention, "whoever can tag me first gets a bonus on their allowance. I'm not going to spar, I'm just going to avoid you. Though I doubt you'll be able to catch me."

"Oh, you're on." Those were challenging words right there. Each of the trio's eyes had a fire lit in them, determined. They daydreamed about what they could buy with the extra money. When Ayaan said things like "bonus", he meant it. It would be a nice chunk of change for them.

When they looked back to where Ayaan was supposed to be, he was already gone.

.

.

Ayaan practically flew through the trees, barely leaving a trail for them to follow. His competitive spirit was set ablaze, taking his mind off his broken spear and nightmares. Maybe it was a good thing to indulge them in their little game.

He knew what they were doing, and he appreciated it.

He still couldn't properly speak to Katara about what happened. He couldn't even speak to Sokka, and not for lack of trying. He was too angry, and as much as he knew Katara was trying to apologize...

No. He could never forgive such a situation. Trust goes both ways, and she'd decimated the road between theirs. But what was he to expect? This wasn't the first time she'd chosen another over her family, even if it was only for a moment.

Was this a pattern that would repeat? Was this truly the last time something like this would happen? His spear was broken, for now, and his mother's jewel was ruined. As much as he relied on his weapon for stability, he'd improved without it since Omashu. He'd been training himself to be okay without it.

It barely got anywhere, but he was trying.

No one truly understood how much he clung to his spear. No one except him. If he'd had his spear, he could have done more to protect his mother. He could have held on long enough for help to find them. But he didn't have it, it wasn't with him, and so, that tragedy happened.

It was his fault. He blamed himself for being so careless, so unprepared when war could find them at any time. He'd let himself be accustomed to the simple peace they'd enjoyed. That lapse in judgment cost his mother's life, and he'd never forgive himself for that.

So he kept his spear on him at all times. He pushed through every pain to wield it again. Both mentally and physically, he screamed, his only peace the cold weapon in his hands.

It was the only way to cope with the agony he constantly felt while healing. His spear became his symbol of endurance. To protect his family and village, he pushed through. He hunted, trained, and took care of them. It was his purpose.

It was his reason... to keep breathing.

He would fix his spear, he would hold his broken jewel. He still had his family to protect. He still had his village to return to. He had a new mission that would see a change in this cruel war. He'd help Aang get to the North, he would help him get stronger. He'd train his siblings to be strong, too.

Maybe in doing so, in raising them well, he could repent for his failure. He would make sure they'd never suffer his same scars.

But despite how much he willingly, always, and would forever, give them, Katara still trusted some rogue more.

Sure, she was manipulated, experiencing first love, but it had been far too easy to convince her. Only Sokka fully kept his wariness. Aang, as open as he was, at least trusted them more than some strangers.

Was his sacrifices not worth her trust?

Even with all he'd done and is willing to do to keep them safe, is it still not enough?

Had he not given enough?

When will it end?

"Enough, concentrate." Letting his darker thoughts wash over him, he returned his focus to the game. He leaped through the trees, leaving small marks for them to follow. It would take time for his anger to truly cool, one of the many flaws he had.

But he'd work on it, he'd try.

He could hear the trio laughing, enjoying the distraction they'd made. All of the skills he'd taught them in tracking were coming to good use, and he was proud of how well they were following his trail.

But of course, good things never last.

The mark appeared on his forehead for a brief moment before vanishing again, something roaring in pain against the howling winds. His burns rippled with a pain he hadn't felt in a while. Something compelled him to stop and look, and no sooner did he listen did his heart drop.

Ashes flowed over the charred remains of what used to be a vibrant forest. The water ran dry, the air stung with embers. The fire still raged atop the screaming trees, crumbling into nothing.

He hadn't noticed when tears fell or when he'd slid to his knees. His head filled with screams at the sight of the lingering blaze. He didn't notice when the others caught up to him only to stop in their tracks at the sight of the destroyed woods.

It was like a scar upon the land.

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