The Warrior's Gambit (Zutara)

XXIII

She was not about to admit defeat.

Her first patrons would be Ratana's parents. Those two, who gave themselves to their town tirelessly, deserved to be able to continue doing so. Depending on how the night went and how confident Katara was, she even wondered if she'd be able to heal Dock. Was it possible for her to fix a brain that was shattered, the most abstract of illnesses there was?

She brushed the dirt off of her robes and painted her face, and as she slipped out onto her patio, she heard the girls laughing from one room over.

Ratana deserved some happiness. Let them have it, she thought. She did this so others did not have to.

XXxxXX

"You okay, Princess Katara? You look a little pale."

"Just tired," Katara said firmly. "Sorry, what were you talking about?" she asked, putting on her most interested face and leaned in, taking another gigantic drink of coffee.

Last night had been more exhausting than the first.

There were many times she'd wanted to give up. Times when she thought that maybe certain illnesses just could not be fixed or that she'd done all she could do. Times when she imagined she was not skilled enough and would have to leave the job half-done.

That was not in Katara's personality, however.

She was not sure if she'd healed everyone, but she knew she'd given her everything. It was clearly affecting her – she felt ill herself. Of course, she did; she'd spent the entire night using a lot of energy and had maybe nabbed an hour of sleep at the end of it. She was looking forward to the ride back to the Palace tomorrow, where there existed all the time in the world and it was as dull as Earth Kingdom mathematical presentations, so Katara could just sleep it off.

"Maybe if you're lucky, the Painted Lady will come and visit you tonight," the watch guard said with a hint of humor.

"More activity?" One of the workers turned to the guard who'd sat with them yesterday, surprise coloring his face.

"Yeah, I think she healed most of their sickness last night. Or the rest of 'em. They're practically ecstatic. They're throwing a festival, last I saw."

"All because of a spirit?" one guard said, scrunching his nose. "No one actually believes they exist...right?"

A few of his comrades around the table gave half-hearted shrugs. Katara scowled at him. Those who denied the existence of spirits were looking for bad accidents to befall them, or for a spirit to leave him out in times of need.

"Can you believe how much an entire village can be affected by one lady - I mean, spirit?" Katara asked. "I think it's fantastic."

"Sure," one of the guards said unsurely, "I mean, that town needs it. I hope she's around to stay."

"Huh?" Katara blinked.

"Well, the place will go right back to how it was if she skips a night of her voodoo," the guard said in a factual tone.

"You...they..." Katara floundered. "But look how much happier they seem!" she argued sharply.

"Yeah, today. Tomorrow it will be right back to how it was. People will continue to be sick. They can't afford food or water, no more than we can. I mean, seriously, this is just like patching a hole with tape. It's bound to come undone eventually."

Katara seethed in her spot.

As much as she wanted to punch this guy, he was right. She could fix to her heart's content, but without food or without water, and not a single delivery but something sustainable, it was all for naught.