𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕

𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚

        Chapter thirty two
Sokka

As I meticulously outlined our invasion plans on parchment, my mind echoed with a single refrain:

"She's okay." It was a mantra born of desperation, a feeble attempt to quell the gnawing fear that threatened to consume me.

She's okay she's okay she's okay she's okay she's okay she's okay she's okay

Weeks had passed since that fateful day when Lora, Aang, and Katara emerged from the catacombs, battered and bruised. The sight of Lora's bloodied form had rendered me immobile, fear tightening its grip on my chest until it felt as though I couldn't draw a single breath. Aang's anguished sobs and Katara's tear-streaked face mirrored my own sense of helplessness, I knew I had to remain strong.

With grim determination, I forced myself to hold it together, the weight of responsibility pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. The only solace in those agonizing moments was the faint but steady rhythm of Lora's heartbeat, a reminder that she was still with us, fighting to survive.

I remained rooted in place, a silent witness to the raw anguish that enveloped us until we returned to Chameleon Bay. There, Katara wasted no time in tending to Lora's injuries, her resolve unshaken despite the limitations of the spirit water. Aang hovered anxiously by Lora's side, his grip on her unwavering as if by sheer force of will he could bring her back to us.

As I watched the scene unfold, numbness enveloped me, a shield against the overwhelming tide of emotion threatening to engulf me.

Toph, usually the picture of unyielding strength, had let her tears fall freely—a rare moment of vulnerability that cut through the air like a knife. While I stood there, seemingly composed on the outside, inside, a storm of emotions raged within me. Fear, guilt, and uncertainty churned in my chest, threatening to consume me, but I held them at bay for the sake of my friends.

It wasn't until my father pulled me into a tight embrace, his arms a comforting refuge in the midst of turmoil, that I allowed myself to crumble. The weight of everything we had endured finally crashed down upon me, and I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotion, tears streaming down my face as I sobbed in his arms until exhaustion claimed me, and I slipped into unconsciousness.

Like Aang, I found it impossible to leave Lora's side during that first week after we commandeered the Fire Navy ship. The quiet moments were unbearable, each second stretching into eternity as I waited for her to open her eyes. I clung to her wrist, my fingers tracing the steady rhythm of her pulse, my heart hammering in my chest as I checked for signs of consciousness like a man possessed.

But as the days dragged on, the weight of uncertainty became too much to bear. I needed a distraction, something to occupy my mind and anchor me in the present moment. And so, for the next two weeks, I threw myself into our work with relentless determination.

Every spare moment was consumed by planning and strategizing, mapping out our every move and step leading up to the day of the eclipse. It was a welcome respite from the relentless worry gnawing at my insides, a way to channel my fears and frustrations into something productive. But no matter how busy I kept myself, Lora's absence loomed large in my thoughts, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the stakes of our mission.

Suddenly the door to my room slammed open with an abruptness that startled me, and I couldn't help but protest at the intrusion.

"Hey! What if I was changing in here!" I grumbled, irritation evident in my tone, but my words died on my lips as I caught sight of the expression on Toph's face.