Hello, hello, and welcome to my first multi-chapter, plot-filled fanfiction. Just to clear up a few things, and give a few warnings, this fic takes place Post-War and is OC-centric (but does include various Canon characters throughout). This started off simply as a role-play between me and one of my friends, but ended up as a story after we quit roleplaying. I hope that you all enjoy, and reviews and tips are welcome. :)

I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender, off of which this story's world is based off of.

Inescapable

Prologue

In the darkness, all that remained was a shroud...

A white shroud of snow that covered every possible corner of the landscape, coating any place life may have been able to exist. More of this menacing blanket fell from the dark abyss of clouds above, only adding to the sinister surroundings. It was almost as if hell had frozen over. But no, hell couldn't have been as menacing as this.

Soon, however, the landscape changed.

The snow, having been white before, became tainted with splotches of liquid crimson. People - no, warriors of destruction - clad in blue stormed past, charging at what was remaining of a resistance fleet in green and red. The blue warriors charged further towards the frightened resistance ahead of them, showing no signs of remorse in their oceanic irises as the snow crunched underneath their boots. The green and red soldiers were then blocked from view by this fearsome procession.

"No, no...! You must let us live! For Spirits' sake!" A hoarse voice pleaded, followed by unmoved chuckles.

"We will do anything, anything!" Another cried, this time more desperately. More laughter ensued, and the warriors of death pressed forward.

Those same horrified voices shrieked, and it was soon silent.

I gasped for breath.

Sweat trailed like frigid rapids down my shivering form, dampening a few locks of my hair as I quickly sat up from my previous horizontal position. I attempted to slow my breathing, inhaling the humid atmosphere around me with utmost gratitude to the Spirits.

As my breathing slowed, my eyes took a moment to focus. First to come into view was a dimming bonfire, glowing in a desperate tribulation to stay ignited. Three figures slept soundly around it, one snoring quite audibly and shifting on top of its sleeping bag. A moment passed, and I soon realized I sat upon my own sleeping bag, no longer in that unpleasant frozen wilderness.

"That vision... Again..." I murmured to myself, falling back onto my sleeping bag. That was the third time in the past month that dream had come back to haunt me. Every time, it never failed that I would completely lose myself in it, that I would think it was real. That I'd wake up like this.

But it wasn't like these dreams were normal. Sure, I'd had my fair share of clairvoyant dreams, considering my connection to the Spirit World and inherited abilities, but no vision had been so sinister as my most recent. He only factor about this dream that truly disturbed me was its inevitability. Every single one of my dreams and visions, since age six, had proven themselves undeniably true. But none had, like this night's vision, been so horrifyingly violent and vivid. The thought that this vision, in a time of peace and prosperity, would come true frightened me to the point of heightened paranoia.

"...Kahou?" A groggy voice muttered from a few feet beside me, pulling me from my solemn musing. Something shifted, and I found none other than Arato and his golden irises surveying me, his eyes still glossy from slumber. "Are you alright...?"

At his concern, I couldn't help but smile reassuringly. Arato seemed to be able to sense when something was bothering me, so much to the point where it even, apparently, woke him from his sleep. I almost laughed at the thought that we had developed such a bond in such a seemingly short year-long's time.

"I'm alright, Arato, really." I lied, still smiling. He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Go back to sleep, you'll need it for tomorrow."

Arato took another moment to silently appraise me, his brow furrowing in evaluation. Before he had the chance to formulate a decent question, I rolled onto my side, my back facing him in rejection. I heard Arato murmur something under his breath before adjusting himself, giving in to the sleep I had deprived him of.

"Goodnight," I offered softly. I knew Arato would not be able to fall back asleep without a sense of closure. He was silent, surely enough, for only a quick moment.

"...Sleep well, Kahou."

To put it simply, she was beautiful.

With a golden hair unlike any other I'd ever seen, she seemed to exude an elegance even the Moon Spirit herself would envy. Her honey brown eyes laced with dark lashes met mine, and a worried frown tainted her sun-kissed skin. Her opulent, penetrating gaze left my face, staring sorrowfully forward into the distance, and I felt her hand slip into mine. She gave my hand a soft squeeze, looking back at me one last time before stepping forward, her hand slipping out of my own.

Surveying my surroundings, I immediately realized that I was in the middle of a battlefield, the battle having long since passed. Splotches of a red liquid that could only be blood saturated the snow coating the ground, and various soldiers were strewn across the land - undoubtedly dead. Snapping my head back towards where the enchanting young woman had gone, I found her standing several yards away, stooped over the form of a young man and her shoulders shaking with falling tears.

Calling out to her, I found my voice all but too quiet to reach her ears. I felt a desperate, uncontrollable urge to reach her, to console her, to put an end to her tears, but my arduous struggle brought me no closer. I continued to run, to stride, until I felt my breath coming in short gasps. Another breath left me, and then -

"Master Kisho?"

Opening my eyes slowly to the sound of the Yasuo's voice, I found his worried stare examining me cautiously. I took quick breaths in and out, feeling as if I really had run with all of my will, sitting up sharply. Letting out a sharp cough, I fell back to my pillow regretting my last movement, my breathing growing slightly less erratic. Yasuo stood up, grasping the side of my mattress and leaning over anxiously. Sitting up more gradually this time, I attempted to calm myself down, my breathing soon slowing to a more typical pace.

"Ya… Yasuo." I muttered, finding words hard to come by. The young Sage nodded in acknowledgement.

"Yes, Master Kisho?"

"…Write down… everything I say. This dream, this time… was far worse than anything before."