The snow was a slate grey.

At least it was no longer black, the color of charcoal that fed the ships of the Fire Nation. It had been more than a month since the Fire Nation had ambushed what was left of the Southern Water Tribe. They managed to take all the warriors in the village, leaving the rest of the Southern Water Tribe to die off.

The Fire Nation hadn’t known there was a group of them out on a hunting party.

At nineteen, Darshi was the eldest warrior in her village. Something her people begrudging admitted to. Girls weren’t warriors in her tribe. If they had the gift of water bending they were always taught healing. But Darshi, even at a young age, knew she wanted to do more. She taught herself, with her mother and father secretly giving her tips. Her family was not originally from the Southern Water Tribe, so their ideals did not always align with the villages.

Taking the children out on a hunting party was probably a way to get her out of their hair. Darshi agreed to it regardless. It would be good for all of them. It was depressing, going through war. The elders thought if she could get the children out it would make them feel better. It was a success, and they pulled back three carcasses on the pelts of animals.

When they got back it was a new world.

The walls had been pummeled to a fine powder, the elders withering away from hunger. Orphan children with no one to care for them sat staring soulless into the horizon as if waiting to join their family. Darshi didn’t know how to be what everyone needed, so she did what she was best at and began organizing. Making units of people to cook, others with the water bending gift to repair the walls. She went out herself and scouted for Fire Nation soldiers. All but one ship had left. Her guess was they were there to watch them die off for amusement with the war all but won.

The Fire Nation would learn the Southern Water Tribe were a stalwart group of people. They flourished where nobody else could. They were like weeds that had deep roots and unending vines that grew back no matter how much was hacked away. Yes, they would survive this.

But first, they must mourn.

Darshi and her brother had lost their parents years ago to the war, but she remembered the sting of death all too well. One day her father went out for war and never returned. Sometimes it was like that, with no body to bury. Her mother, shaken by his loss, withered away to nothing and died two months later leaving her in charge of Jungkook.

Sweet little rebellious Jungkook, who barely listened to their parents let alone her. Most of the time she let him run wild. The elders would come for him if he misbehaved too much.

Darshi circled the bonfire that crackled in the center of the village. It used to be a place of celebration, where people met up at night after all the chores were done to talk with friends and loved ones.

Now it was just a place to keep warm.

Two children wrestled in the grit covered snow. It was good, in a way. It meant they were still able to let go and have fun despite their hardships.

Despite the stores of food that diminished by the day.

The warriors were the hunters, and now there were none. Only half-trained, prepubescent boys that were depending on her to keep them alive. There were less than fifty of her people left, and all of them were watching her as if she would magically make some plan that would save them and keep them alive.

It wasn’t like that. If Darshi left to hunt she left them unprotected. It may be only one ship, but there could be hundreds of soldiers on it.

The Fire Nation had been taking their water benders for decades now. They seemed to prioritize them, ignoring the people who did not have the gift. Sometimes they killed them, and other times they took them away and were never seen again. No one knew what happened to those people.

What happened to her dad.

Sometimes Darshi thought it was better to remain in ignorance. It beat letting her mind come up with all the horrible things the Fire Nation could be doing to him.

“Ozuru, hands up!” Darshi shouted, gripping her hair by the roots. He was as awkward as a stork. She wasn’t sure if he’d ever make a good warrior, but she didn’t have much of a choice now.

Shiro, a boy three years younger, managed to sling his jaw blade unsharpened side at Ozuro who fell backwards in a clump of mismatched furs. Shiro jumped, glancing at her as if he expected Darshi to chastise him for his win.

Darshi could only sigh. “Shiro, good job. Ozuro, next time don’t panic. If someone swings a blade at you that is the last thing you do.”

The warmth of another appeared at her left, and she glanced over to see Jimin. He had been with her on the hunting trip. He was always willing to do anything to get out of the village and from the heated eyes burning holes against him. As if waiting for him to peel back his skin and reveal the beast lurking below.

Jimin was a fire bender with the aquamarine eyes of the Water Nation.

Fire benders were monsters in more way than just one. Years ago one of the soldiers had taken his mother and did unspeakable things, resulting in him. Her husband, Jimin’s step-father, hated him. Jimin was the representation of all his mother’s pain and trauma. Jimin’s mother did love him, but sometimes there was a look in her eyes that said she wasn’t only seeing him when she stared at her son.

Now Jimin’s step-father was dead, his mother too. All he had left for family was an elder he barely ever interacted with. It didn’t help all his mother’s true born children died. One of them from a sickness during infancy, and the other in a battle that had painted the snow scarlet for a whole season.

“Not going too well?” Jimin asked.

Darshi snorted. “Of course not. None of them are trained or prepared for another battle. If the Fire Nation attacked right now we would all die.”

Jimin looked over the snow drifts. “But now we’re here. We're alive.” He arched a single brow at her. “You’re the closest thing this tribe has had to a master water bender in years. The elders are too stubborn to admit it because if they did that means change, and that is one thing we do not do.”

He was right. The tribe had been following the same rules since the beginning of time. Darshi didn’t think the end of their people would make any difference.

It was too late anyways.

Now Jimin and Darshi were their best bet, the people they had rejected. When they saw her gifts with water they had hoped Jungkook would be the same. If he was just as strong then they would never find out. Water bending always frustrated Jungkook, who preferred hand-to-hand combat. He said it was much simpler, and considering he was the type to keep shoving even if it didn’t fit that seemed to be right in line with his character.

Darshi looked over the ragtag group of people she was training. There were four water benders, and of those only two agreed to learn to fight. Three of them were girls. Their whole culture was built on girls being the soothing healers. One of them had decided to learn after everything that had happened, but Darshi didn’t think she’d be of much use. She was dreadfully behind on her bending forms.

The rest were kids varied from age four to sixteen with various levels of mastery. None of them were close to getting a ceremony of completion. Darshi had already sent out the three eldest warriors in hope that they would manage to find something to bring them back. Jungkook was one of them and she couldn’t help but worry. So many things could go wrong during a hunting trip. Frost bite, the slip of a hand as a predator attacked. It was easy to die out in the snow.

The black puffs of smoke continued to billow in the distance. Jimin noticed where her gaze fell, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing the best you can. That’s all you can do.”

“It isn’t enough,” she disagreed, nibbling on her bottom lip. “So much needs to be done, but we’re failing.”

“You’re keeping us alive.”

Darshi shook her head, her two braids hitting her face as the wind ripped through them. “The elders are helping. Sometimes they give me advice when I ask for it, even if they won’t meet with me.”

At least they no longer hated her. That had to mean something.

A tussle began between two of the students, Nami and Shiro. Nami was the sole girl that agreed to learn to fight, and could be quite fiery in temper when she wanted to be. Darshi hurried over to stop anymore blows from being exchanged, but not before Nami made a slicing motion with her hand.

At first, it seemed nothing had happened. Then, a creaking permeated the air like the weary sigh of an old man after a day’s work. Darshi managed to grab them both before the ledge collapsed ten feet below. Nami stared with wide eyes, shooting back up.

“I did that?” she asked in disbelief.

“No way,” Shiro snorted with derision. “Even I can’t do that.”

Jimin’s response was dry. “I’m afraid she did.”

Darshi nodded, grabbing one of the younger children before they could fall over the edge trying to see what had happened. “Yes, and now it is your job to figure out how to do it again.”

Nami flung her arms with all the expectations in the world, throwing herself dramatically on the ground with a groan when nothing happened. “I don’t know how! I was just so angry.”

“Bending isn’t about emotions. If you can only bend when your emotions are high you will never be a good bender.” Darshi took the girls hands in her own, making soothing motions like the water that lapped at the edge of ice. A stream of water formed and Darshi let her go. As soon as she did Nami lost her concentration, kicking at a snow drift.

“I’m no good at bending,” the little girl pouted. “I should just heal like the other women.”

“Why do one when you can do both?” Darshi suggested.

Nami’s eyes lit up, as if the thought had never hit her. “You’re right! I can do both!”

Jimin chuckled as she went running off. “When does Jungkook get back?”

Darshi peered into the tundra. It was a light grey from this far. Even though many of the water tribe wore blues it did not make a stark contrast against the white of the snow. It was easy to get lost if one didn’t know how to navigate the South Pole. Darshi could not say it was unheard of to stumble upon a body that was frozen from who knows how long ago. The tribe always held a burial when that happened.

“Within the next few days.” She didn’t know what she would do if Jungkook didn’t appear. She was depending on him, hoping that he had listened as the other warriors had taught him to hunt. Darshi had tried to give him pointers before he left, but Jungkook had brushed her off as overbearing. If he wasn’t back within a week it could only mean one thing.

That Jungkook was dead.

Brothers and Sisters of the Northern Water Tribe,

We plead your aid once again as we fight for survival in the South.

We do not have much to give, but we promise one day to repay you for any kindness you offer.

Our water benders have been captured, our warriors killed.

We need you in this time more than ever.

Your sister from the South,

Adarshini, pro tempore Chief of the Southern Water Tribe

Namjoon considered the