Shadow of the Avatar

by Vexed

With the Hundred Year War over, an old master reflects on the mistakes of the past and on the night, so long ago, when mere humans in their desperation failed to create for themselves a savior, and instead created wounds which they could never heal. I might expand on this later. For now, it's a one shot.

Shadow of the Avatar

Prologue

It was a dark and starless night. Clouds as black as pitch hung low in the sky, denying the world the light of the heavens. The air seemed to be weighed down by a damp chill as Jeong Jeong lay in his bed, his old bones aching as he stared into the fire which burned in the pit some ten feet away. The flames danced and flicked upward, fighting back the gloom that encroached upon it, and as he stared, the old man wondered. His mind returned to that fateful night, so long ago, to the woman he had loved, to the friends he had trusted, and to the boy whose life they had destroyed. A tightness gripped his chest as it always did when he returned to these thoughts, these memories.

The world was at peace again. Aang, the true Avatar, had returned, and balance had finally been restored. It had been ten years now, since the end of the great war, but Jeong Jeong found little peace for himself. He would never truly be at peace. His past would haunt him until his death, of this he was certain, but this was a truth he had accepted long ago. What truly kept him from sound sleep, what made the dark and the chill seep into his soul without resistance or complaint, were the events of that night, nearly fifty years ago. The night mere humans, blinded by desperation and pride, attempted to create for themselves a god.

A stab of pain pierced Jeong Jeong's chest, and he clutched tightly at his robe while the fire cracked and popped. His eyes blurred from tears and time, and he lost himself in those terrible memories once again.

. . .

His feet splashed down in the cool waters which pooled and ran in little rivers across the ground, fed by the steady downpour which fell from a pitch black sky. Jeong Jeong's heart beat fiercely in his chest as he made his way through the large trees of the deep forest. The woodlands of the Earth Kingdom were far more robust than those of the islands of the Fire Nation, and could be difficult to navigate in daylight let alone at night, with this rain blurring his already limited sight. He didn't dare use his bending to light the way for fear of being followed. They could not afford such an oversight, not tonight. The hour he had spent in total darkness to prepare his eyes for this trek was hardly proving to be of any use, as only outlines and varying degrees of darkness were discernible, but he made due, guided by thin wisps, tiny currents of air which beckoned him onward.

Jeong Jeong smiled despite himself. Fenfang would have been the first to arrive. Otherwise, no one would be able to find their way in these infernal conditions.

He tightened his grip on the rain-proofed leather satchel he carried under his robe. Black robes trimmed in white, robes of a man who held secrets within secrets, a member of the Black Lotus. He frowned as me moved on, still uncertain of himself. He had officially joined the Order of the Whit Lotus a few years ago, looking for a way to restore balance to this war torn world, but, like many others, had found their adherence to neutrality maddening. The White Lotus counted some of the world's greatest masters among its members, not only masters of the elements, but of the arts as well. Philosophers capable of swaying nations with their words, swordsmen and fighters who could rival all but the mightiest benders, and more, so much more. Yet all they did was talk! They discussed the problems of the world, but took no action, all while the four nations were driven further and further out of balance! The order held the power to do great things for the peoples of every nation, yet all it ever seemed to do was wait and watch.

There were, however, members of the order, like Jeong Jeong, who wished to see the White Lotus take a more active role in the world's affairs, who felt it needed intervention, guidance to keep it in its proper balance. Traditionally, this had always been the roll of the avatar, and these stirrings in the order had been ignored as unnecessary, but now, with the Avatar absent for over forty years, the Order's continued inaction had become nothing short of ludicrous! It was his tendency to voice such opinions which had attracted the attention of Master Olon, a grandmaster of the White Lotus. She had taken Jeong Jeong aside, and revealed her secret: that within the White Lotus there existed a small faction, a schism, which believed as Jeong Jeong did. They called themselves the Black Lotus, the Yin to the rest of the order's Yang. While the White Lotus was established to gather the world's knowledge together, the Black Lotus felt they represented the order's duty to use that knowledge for the betterment of its people. Master Olong had explained that direct intervention was still not the duty of the Lotus, either white or black, but that, in these dire times, it was their responsibility to see that something was done.

He nearly stumbled over a stone, but was sure to make no sound as he caught his balance. Years spent mastering the martial forms of firebending had left him with a firm root, even in these conditions. Tonight was the night they had planned for. It was the night he had discovered in the Library of Wan Shi Tong, the night when the energies of the universe would be closest to the earth, and their plan could be enacted.

Finally, after wandering through the night and the rain for nearly an hour, Jeong Jeong arrived. Before him was a large, crystalline dome, visible in the night from the light which shone from within. Its surface seemed solid and firm, like the earth, but difficult to truly grasp, like the air. The rain which rolled off of it made it appear to flow like water, and the fires within made it flicker and dance. It would draw quite the crowd, had they not constructed it so deep in these ancient woods. He admired the sight of it for only a moment, then his eyes drifted upward, to the clouds above, looking like a great teeming mass of vague black shapes in the darkened sky as they seemed to circle the dome. It was nearly time.

Before he could take a step, a blade, slick with rain and shimmering black appeared at his throat.

"Speak the truth in whispers..." the man, barely visible in Jeong Jeong's peripheral vision said.

"...lest the world be made deaf to it," Jeong Jeong answered, finishing his part of the pass phrase.

Like a ghost, the blade withdrew, and the man vanished into the falling rain. Jeong Jeong rubbed at his neck where the sword had touched his skin, and continued to walk, realizing how little his vaunted mastery over fire would have done against a man, the dark, and a sharpened piece of metal.

As he approached the entrance, an opening in the front of the dome that made it resemble the ice homes of the Southern Water Tribe, he could feel the other air currents converging as they led their wanderers to this gathering place. He could see the others who had arrived before him, blurred figures casting shadows against the shimmering walls. He smiled again, the previous ordeal forgotten, and walked eagerly inside. As he did, heads turned his way. The dome's other occupants were all clad in the same robes has Jeong Jeong, but with their hoods pulled back and hung behind their necks so their faces could be plainly seen. The difficulty in reaching this place afforded some amount of safety. After all, if anyone had found this place, then their plan was unlikely to succeed anyway. There were, at first glance, five others. Four were all gathered together beside a large stone table, their faces painted with great ceremony in the fashion of the chi masters. The woman's name was Sun Yu, the other three, all men, were Dao Ren, Lee Hou, and Shu Po. Their job tonight would be to guide the flow of energy in the host's body. The fifth sat near the far wall, meditating, his skin dark and his face lean and bearded. He was Guru Burdak. He would be responsible for opening the host's chakras in coordination with the chi masters so that they remained pure, and were not aligned with any one element during the awakening.

"You're early, Captain," the voice of the woman Jeong Jeong wanted most to see said, like a wisp, from just behind him.

"You know you do not have to call me by that title, Master Fenfang," he said, turning to find her waiting beside the door. In his eagerness, he must have walked right by her. Though, she did like to hide in his blind spot, as if it were a game, so he was not entirely to blame, he was sure. Her hair was dark, and her eyes a playful blue. She was a bit taller than he was, but not much. She was slender, and very, very beautiful.

"Perhaps," she said with a smile, "and yet you call me 'Master Fenfang' instead of Fen."

Jeong Jeong chuckled, and said, "Fine then, Fen."

She nodded as if correcting a child, her smile the only hint of her playfulness, "Thank you Jeong Jeong."

They both enjoyed a moment of happiness at being reunited. He hadn't seen Fenfang in months. His recent appointment as Captain in the Fire Nation's Navy, and the instruction of its young firebenders, had kept him rather busy. This thought brought an end to his brief joy and replaced it with a sting of bitterness. His 'students' were, for the most part, eager, loyal servants of the Firelord. They devoured his teachings like starving children, their eyes burning with a lust for war. Jeong Jeong was only twenty, and already a Captain, in charge of these other young lives – lives he would send out to either be snuffed out in defeat, or to snuff out the lives of others in victory.

Fanfang's hand on his cheek roused him from his brooding, and brought his eyes to hers. She seemed to feel his pain, but even her empathy brought sadness to him. She was, as far as anyone knew, the last living Airbender. Jeong Jeong was responsible for saving her life, but he was equally responsible for the deaths of her fellow benders. He was widely considered a young firebending prodigy, one who had risen in the Navy from a humble family of fishermen. He had been eager to prove his worth, and the praise of his instructors had intermixed with the propaganda of the Firelord to fuel his war lust along with so many others. That day, the ambush he took part in, it was Jeong Jeong's first taste of battle. The screams of the dying, the smell of burned flesh, these things would forever change the way he saw his power, the command over fire.

As he looked into Fanfangs eyes, he grasped her hand in his and gently removed it from his cheek. He didn't deserve her. How many villages had they burned as sympathizers? How many of her fellow nomads fell to his compatriots? The Air Nomad Genocide had taken place before Jeong Jeong was born, but not all of the Air Nomads had been killed. Many had scattered or gone into hiding, but the forces of the Firelord were ruthless. They used traps, false safe houses and spy networks to flush them all out. It had been almost a decade since any airbenders had been seen or even heard of when Fanfang and her caretakers had been discovered. They had kept on the move, and hidden her talents, but they had continued her training. They were afraid that leaving her untrained would be tantamount to allowing airbending to die out. Eventually they were found out, and Jeong Jeong had been part of the raid that had lay in ambush for them. There had been ten of them, the Nomads, dressed as simple Earth Kingdom merchants, but once the attack had begun, three proved themselves to be master airbenders, the others were all formidable, either benders or warriors. Jeong Jeong's reputation as a true prodigy came from that day. Jeong Jeong, the simple foot soldier who had defeated a master.

The truth was much worse than that.

During the first few seconds of the attack, their ambush claimed two lives. Jeong Jeong had been nervous, his attack had missed, but his comrades did not. The way those struck by the flames had screamed in agony and surprise...it was terrible. He'd been stunned, and watched, numbly, as his companions killed the airbenders and their protectors. The enemy masters had been formidable, but the fire nation had the element of surprise and superior numbers. They fell one by one, until it was only a young woman. She was crying over her dead teacher, cradling the old woman's head in her arms. She was beautiful, but her beauty had been a vision of tragedy as tears cleaned away lines of ash from beneath her eyes.

Jeong Jeong's commander, Captain Gui, had been furious with him. Called him a coward for not joining in the fight.

He decided to teach him a lesson by making Jeong Jeong kill the girl. He remembered Gui promising to maker her suffer, slowly, if Jeong Jeong did not kill her himself.

He honestly couldn't remember what thoughts had gone through his head. The screaming, the eagerness of his fellow firebenders to burn away the living, his commander's cruelty...all he could remember was this girl's eyes. She looked like she was the same age as himself. And just like that, he had done it.

He turned on his own commander. It was true. Jeong Jeong had defeated a master that day, but it was not an airbender. He defeated Captain Gui. He defeated his fellow soldiers, he left no one to witness what he had done but the girl. He had protected an enemy of the Fire Nation.

Left alone, that would have been the end for them both. Jeong Jeong was a traitor, and this girl, this girl that looked at him like he was a monster, she was an enemy that the Fire Nation would pursue to her death, no matter the cost. They had nowhere to go, and she had no reason to trust him.

That was when the White Lotus had arrived. They had been assisting airbenders like Fenfeng since the genocide. They had only arrived too late. Jeong Jeong remembered them cleaning up the bodies, making it look like everyone had killed one another. Jeong Jeong made to look like he was the lone survivor, with one exception. The White Lotus placed a member of their order to wear the uniform of one of the dead Fire Nation soldiers. He gave a report on Jeong Jeong's heroic defeat of the last airbending master, and, after a few years of being watched by the Order to ensure he kept their secret, he eventually found himself as a member of the White Lotus himself, an agent of balance, attempting to help mitigate the Fire Nation's damage from the inside.

But it was so tiring. His skill in fire bending gained him fame and success, but at the cost of assisting the Fire Nation in their ruthless expansion. He had hoped that the young men and women he trained could be guided away from this spiral of destruction, but with each batch the Fire Navy gave him to train, he found them to be more zealous and more destructive. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on.

He squeezed Fenfang's hand, and tried to smile. Air nomads are taught not to let their emotions rule them, to break away from such attachments, but it had taken her a long time to stop hating Jeong Jeong, and even longer to forgive him. He had saved her, yes, but he had been one of the soldiers responsible for that attack. One of the men who had hounded her for her entire life, killed her friends and protectors. She had every right to hate him until the day he died. He, on the other hand, had loved her hopelessly for years. They had seen much of each other in the White Lotus, which had taken over her care, and somewhere on the path to forgiveness, she had found it in her heart to love him too.

She stroked his hand and smiled weakly, piercing his soul with those glistening blue eyes. She had never received her tattoos. That would be to obvious, and even though that was a tragedy for her, Jeong Jeong thought she looked beautiful without them.

"Jeong Jeong, you have to let it go," she said, almost pleadingly, but before she could say more, the last two masters arrived.

First was Master Brock. His beard protruded from beneath his hood as he walked in from the rain, his face as stony and chiseled as ever. Even without the beard, the man's size and build was unmistakeable, but what he was carrying made the blood go out of Jeong Jeong's face. It was a stone container, which looked like nothing more than a large rectangular block, about four feet by two feet, slung over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. It wasn't the container that bothered Jeong Jeong, but rather, what it was inside. Right on his heels was Master Olon, perfectly dry as she kept the water above her suspended in a protective umbrella. With a whisk of her hand, the water streamed itself back outside, joining the rest of the cascade. She frowned at the sight of Jeong Jeong's dripping robes, and with hardly any effort at all, she removed the water from his dripping exterior and sent it to join the rest of its kind outside the dome.

"Honestly, young man," she said, pushing back her hood to reveal her silvery hair and aged features, her eyes a pair of deep violet pools of knowledge and secrets, "You are an accomplished firebender. You could have dried yourself at the door."

Jeong Jeong's brow furrowed, but he kept his tone respectful as he said, "Fire is too dangerous to use so frivolously, Master. I envy you your command of water. Little harm can come of its casual use."

Fen and Olon both exchanged knowing looks, making Olon laugh and Fenfang roll her eyes.

"Sooner or later, you're going to have to lay that burden of yours down a while," Olong said, "before it makes you miss out on the finer things in life."

As she said this, she tilted her head toward Fen, and the young airbending master blushed.

Jeong Jeong felt his face flush as well, and averted his yes, saying, "Master, we are here on more serious business. Perhaps this lecture can wait?"

With that, he produced the satchel he had been keeping beneath his robes. Held within were the scrolls he had obtained from the archives of the Fire Sages, the last piece in the puzzle. The other bending masters produced their own satchels, each one containing their piece of the array. Pieces of ancient, forgotten knowledge which dated back to the age before the coming of the first avatar. These were clues to how the first avatar came to be, star signs, crystal formations, ancient symbols found it sacred sites, all gathered from different parts of the world, and all of which matched a pattern.

They each laid out their findings, and Guru Burdak and the four chi masters conferred, matching each piece of evidence against the array they had created on the stone table in the exact center of the dome. They had to be sure everything was perfect. Their window would only last a few minutes, and a second chance would not come for many years. Removing these documents from their places of origin was a terrible risk, but a risk the Black Lotus had to take in order to ensure their success.

After a few minutes of examination, they all seemed to be satisfied, and Burdak nodded and waved for preparations to begin.

The atmosphere within the crystal dome instantly soured as Master Brock set his burden down on the earthen floor beside the stone alter. He dropped to a solid stance, causing a seam to appear along the top of the container, then thrust his palm forward, removing the top of the stone block like a lid. Jeong Jeong wanted to look away, but he forced himself to look down on what lay within. From where the lid had been removed, recessed into the hollow stone box was solid ice which glowed with a faint blue light, and within the stone and ice, illuminated by the light of master Olon's frozen healing waters, was a young boy.

It was a technique invented long ago by an Avatar of the Northern Water Tribe. A combination of a gifted waterbender's healing abilities and the preserving properties of the ice. The ancient avatar was famous for her healing skills. She would preserve those on the brink of death, just like this, as she healed them over time. The technique was thought to be lost when that avatar died, but master Olon had been in the line of that same Avatar's descendants. Her secret had not been lost, but instead had been passed down in her family over the generations.

This boy, contained within the ice, was to be the host. He was on the brink of death, teetering between the world of the living and the spirit world, and held in suspension by Olon's technique. It was unnatural, and the thought of using the body of a boy who was all but dead made him uneasy. It felt wrong.

Seeing Jeong Jeong's discomfort, Olon placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuringly.

"I know, Jeong Jeong," she said, softly, "but we must do what is necessary. The world needs balance, it needs an Avatar."

Jeong Jeong blew out a heavy breath, looking down on the almost serene expression on the young boy's face. How old was he? Ten? Maybe twelve? He looked so fragile.

"If we succeed," Olon continued, "we will be saving his life."

"And if we fail?" Jeong Jeong asked.

"Then he will die," Master Brock said, in a firm, booming tone, "That is the nature of the world. This child would already be dead if not for Master Olon and myself."

Jeong Jeong almost protested, but he was silenced by the soft but firm voice of Sun Yu.

"The time is almost upon us, and we must prepare the host," she said.

The guru nodded his agreement, and Master Olon, after giving Jeong Jeong a sympathetic look, took her stance, and caused the block of glowing ice to levitate smoothly out of Brock's stone casing, gently resting it upon the central altar. She brought her hands, joined at the fingertips, downward as she exhaled evenly, and the ice melted into glowing blue waters which then entered the boy's body through the mouth. Part of the revitalization process after being suspended, as Jeong Jeong understood it.

Without hesitation, Guru Burdak and the chi masters took up their positions around the altar, and, following suit, Jeong Jeong and the other bending masters took up their own positions within the dome. They had practiced this many times, and now they all moved in unison. The chi masters began to gently, but swiftly strike the boy's body, sometimes with the tips of their fingers, other times with one or two knuckles, always in unison, guiding his natural energies through the body in a precise way. All the while, Guru Burdak stood, stiff as a board, his eyes closed with intense concentration and his fingertips pressed into the boy's temples as he tapped into the child's chakras.

Without opening his eyes, the guru nodded, and each of the chi masters struck and held their designated points on the boy's body. The configuration was complete. His chakras were perfectly aligned and his chi was flowing according to their reconstruction of the ancient array.

Without being told, Jeong Jeong and the other benders each took their stances, their bodies already prepared by chi masters the day before to be in perfect alignment with their individual elements, and each struck out against the crystal walls, pouring their bending into them. To become a bender, one's chakras must be aligned to the element he bends. This happens naturally. As the energies of the universe flow through these chakras, they are affected by them, colored, as it were. Some of the greatest chi masters could improve one's already existent affinity, if only temporarily, and having their chakras aligned ensured a greater chance of success. What they were here to do tonight had not been attempted in this age. However, as their hopes all depended, it may well have been done in the age before. The age that created the Avatar.

Red light flowed from Jeong Jeong's hand and into the crystal as he focused his bending into it, just as they had practiced many times before, and he directed it to his left, toward Fenfang. Fire to Air. The other masters did likewise, pouring their energy into the crystal and guiding it to their left. Fenfang's energy flowed into the crystal and shown a brilliant white, tinged with pale blue, and spread toward Olon. Air to Water. Olon's deep blue light flowed to her left, to Brock. Water to Earth. Finally, Brock's golden yellow energies flowed back to Jeong Jeong. Earth to Fire. The avatar cycle, the natural progression of the elements.

The energies circled around them, slowly at first, but with mounting speed as they spiraled upward, toward the peak of the dome, where they met, joining together in a pure and colorless light. Outside the dome, the clouds above were whirling along with the energies they were releasing, and in the center of the spiral, an opening began to emerge. Beads of sweat formed on Jeong Jeong's brow and began to run down his face, but he kept his discipline. The flow of energy had to be precisely maintained. There could be no imbalance if they were to succeed. It took the complete concentration of all the present masters, benders and nonbenders, to remain in unison, and as they focused, and poured themselves into their task, a pillar of light struck from the heavens, down through the opening in the sky above, and, like a lance, pierced the dome at its peak, and was focused like sunlight through a lens, directly onto the first chakra of the host.

All at once, the guru's eyes shot open wide, the same pure light emanating from them as that of the pillar entering the still motionless host. It erupted from him, like a roar without sound, light without color, the earth and the air were both filled with a humming sensation that was was not heard, but felt, and Jeong Jeong struggled to keep his concentration. He dared not even look at the other masters to see how they fared for fear of losing his balance. The silent roar grew louder and louder until he felt as if his head was going to split, but he would not allow himself to fail! Too much was at stake!

Then he heard a sound. Not the silent roar, but a real sound. One which instantly made him aware of the true difference between what he was feeling, and what one might hear. It filled him with cold terror, and made him look to his left.

The sound of Fen's scream.

Fire licked at her hand in the place where Jeong Jeong's energies met her own, but, like Jeong Jeong, she would not allow her pain to break her concentration. Even still, even though he could see her trying to suppress it with everything she had, she still let out a scream of agony, and then another, and then another, as the flames licked at her skin.

It was the same across the dome. Air was blasting at master Olon, tiny shards of ice were stabbing into Brock, and stones both blunt and sharp began to assault Jeong Jeong.

Before he could tear his hand away, Olon's voice carried over the clamor of it all to say, "Don't break! We're almost there!"

But this wasn't right! They had practiced this before! There was nothing wrong with their balance, this shouldn't be happening!

"I'm...I'm fine!" Fenfang said, though her obvious pain, "Please, please don't stop!"

But he could hear the agony in her voice. His fire was burning her! He couldn't go on! The silent roar continued to shake the world and the colorless light was nearly blinding, even as they were looking away. His heart wrenched with every yelp, every pained sound he heard from Fenfang as he continued to pour his energies forth, but even as he looked to her, she looked back with eyes that were locked and determined. She had endured the loss of her entire people, how could he deny her when she was willing to endure this for the sake of the world? He felt sick, and forced himself to look away.

He looked back at the boy, the host. Guru Burdak's head seemed to be forced back as the light poured out of his eyes, and he held to the boy's temples as if it took every ounce of strength he possessed. The chi masters likewise held fast on their own positions as it seemed the very air threatened to burst from the power being channeled here. How long could they last? How long must this go on? Jeong Jeong didn't know. He was terrified, battered, and being forced to torment the woman he loved. Was the world truly worth this?

Then, amidst the pain and the screams, and the silent roar of the universe...the boy's eyes finally opened.

There was a sharp impact. The air was torn from Jeong Jeong's lungs and his eyes were blinded by a bright flash. He felt himself as he was hurled through the air like a doll, the walls of the dome having burst outward, and as he met with something more solid than himself, had the air forced from his lungs, he had to fight to stay conscious.

He gasped for new air as the silent roar began to subside, if only slightly. He forced his eyes to open, and fought back the encroaching darkness at their edges, focusing on his inner fire, forcing its warmth through his body, and after a few moments, he was able to push himself up onto his knees.

He looked around, his vision shaky, but clear. All around him, trees were shattered and pierced by pieces of the destroyed dome. It had blown out in a circle, devastating the surrounding forest for some distance. A groan brought his attention to his right. Master Brock struggled to his feet, staggered backward, then caught his balance. His face was blank and lost as he turned his head from side to side, confused. Where he had landed, the ground was shattered. The man stood in the center of a crater. Fissures had opened like great cracks in the earth that spread out into the forest, and the earth between the fissures was jagged and mangled.

Jeong Jeong followed the cracks back to their origin, to the very spot Brock had stood within the dome. The dome itself was gone, but for a few shards which still stood along its former base, outlining the place where it had had stood only moments ago. They almost seemed to spiral outward, as if his energies had exploded out in the same arch as they had flowed within the dome, and in doing so, they drew his attention back to the place he had been standing himself. Charred earth and rivulets of molten rock carved an ever widening path across the ground, and as Jeong Jeong's hearing returned he began to hear the pop and crackle of burning timber. He turned to look and found a swath cut from the trees, the first few stumps burned to ashes and then charcoal which resembled broken trees, and then a wall of burning forest, kept at by only by the downpour which drenched the world outside of a large opening in the clouds. Where they stood it was dry, but as the clouds rushed in to fill the opening, the rain closed in.

Lightning struck somewhere nearby, and the thunder that instantly followed the flash snapped Jeong Jeong out of his state of shock. In a sickening moment, his mind turned to Fen. He stumbled to his feet and ran back to the remains of the dome, but she wasn't there.

"Fen!" he cried out against the sounds of the worsening storm, "Fenfang!"

"Fen...fang?" a single, powerful voice boomed behind him. The words were soft, childlike, yet they shook the world as the silent roar had.

Jeong Jeong turned to look back at the table, the stone altar where the host had been, and standing atop the destroyed stone and amidst the rubble where the dome had been was the boy. His eyes shown with the bright light of the universe, and as he spoke those energies roared forth along with his voice, imbuing the child's words with raw power.

"It worked!" Olon's voice cried out from the other side of the ruined dome, "We've done it!"

She approached the boy, leaning against a slab of remaining crystal to rest momentarily as she did.

But something felt wrong. As his senses returned, he realized he still felt that silent roar. The world still trembled. In some primal recess of his mind, fear seeped into his very being. Jeong Jeong looked upon the boy, whose eyes continued to pour forth that terrifying light, whose very body seemed to shake the air around him, and he called out to Olon, saying, "Master! Something isn't right! Why is he in the Avatar state? Why isn't he returning to normal?"

Realization donned on Olon, and she stopped in place. As she stopped to think, the opening in the clouds closed and rain began to fall on their heads. Without thinking, Olon waved her hand to form her protective umbrella, but as she did, the water droplets around her crystallized and exploded into tiny projectiles. One pierced Jeong Jeong's leg, making him cry out in pain and surprise. Brock, regaining his own senses, dropped to a defensive stance and brought his hands up to shield himself with earth, but in response, the earth before him erupted violently into the air, raining rock and debris all around them and leaving Master Brock crumpled over and motionless, having been thrown by the blast.

Olon ran to the boy to protect him, but was halted by what they all saw.

The boy merely stood, seemingly oblivious to the danger and the storm. The rain did not touch him. Drops that came close merely hissed and vanished as steam. The stones and debris burst into dust and were whipped away by the winds which howled around him. All the while, they sky above him continued to spiral as before. Something was wrong...he shouldn't be able to do these things. This ritual was meant to create an Avatar, but Avatars must still be trained!

Jeong Jeong looked to master Brock, but he still lay bleeding from the explosion he had caused. His stomach sinking more and more by the moment, Jeong Jeong, very carefully, with every ounce of discipline he possessed, extended his hand with the intent to produce a small flame, nothing more than a candle's worth-

A pillar of roaring fire erupted from his hand and up into the sky before he was able to extinguish it. The heat of it stung his face for several seconds after, and he blinked rapidly to replace the moisture which had evaporated from his eyes.

When he looked back to the circle, he noticed Olon kneeling on the ground, and Jeong Jeong staggered over to join her. He found her hovering over Guru Burdak. The man's eyes were white, not with light, but with blindness. He stared, sightlessly into the sky as rain fell onto his face, masking his tears as he tried to speak.

Jeong Jeong knelt beside the man and bent low to hear what he was saying.

"...failed," the old master said, bitterly, "the boy's chakras are pure...but we...I failed. The energies were too great. The damage is done. He will never bend."

Jeong Jeong shook his head and yelled, "No! You're wrong! I saw him! He is bending right now!"

The guru shook his head and answered, "No, young man, he is not. He is channeling the cosmic energies which fuel your bending, as all benders do, but he cannot control it. It pours into the world unaltered. This is not bending. Do you not feel it? Like fuel...to the flame..."

Jeong Jeong's eyes widened as he realized what the old man was saying. The masters could not control their bending. It was all too powerful. He looked to the boy, and once again noticed the silent roar, the shaking of the world around them as energy poured out of him like light from the sun.

Guru Burdak pulled in a painful breath, and wheezed it out again as he continued to speak, "He is like...a wound, pouring out the energies of the universe...into the world...he must...be stopped."

Olon looked down on the man helplessly. She very slowly, very carefully gathered water onto her hand, but just as it began to glow, it evaporated in an instant, and she screamed in pain as the warmth was torn from her now frozen hand.

"How?" Jeong Jeong screamed, "How do we stop him?"

The guru's face tightened painfully as he said his next words, "Do...what must be done."

What did he mean? Kill the boy? This wasn't his fault!

As he thought this, Jeong Jeong looked up, and saw that the child was standing over them, watching. He turned his gaze from the guru, over to Jeong Jeong, and said, "This man is going to die, isn't he?"

Jeong Jeong looked into the boy's eyes, past the raging light that shone from them, and saw tears, glistening as they rolled down the child's cheeks and fell toward the dying Burdak. The tiny droplets stopped in the air. Some began to float upward, defying gravity, held in a timeless suspension, others froze and shattered into powder, and others evaporated with the rain.

"The woman over there," the boy said, pointing off into the trees, "She is dying too..."

The words hit Jeong Jeong like a blow to the chest. Without thinking, he leaped to his feet, and the ran in the direction the boy had pointed. The light from the drowning fires began to dwindle, and he tried to produce a small flame to see by. He caused a gout to erupt from his hands instead, but, rather than extinguishing it, he focused, calmed it, forced to grow smaller. The very least he could produce was a small blaze that singed at his fingertips, but it would have to do.

It was enough. The light it produced pushed the darkness back enough to see her, slumped down against a tree. Jeong Jeong's feet faltered as he ran, and he nearly fell. Bile rose from his stomach, burning in his throat as he slid to a stop on rain slick earth. She was burned, badly. Her entire right side was blackened from her arm, down to her waist, and half way up her neck. Jeong Jeong fell to his knees beside her as his flame went out, leaving him crouched beside a darkened outline of Fenfang, barely illuminated in the light that the boy gave off as he watched from the distance.

"Fen?" he asked, his voice rough as his throat clenched. He could hear her breathing, and he knew she was struggling with just that. "Fenfang, please, speak to me."

He looked back and cried for Olon. Maybe she could heal her...it wasn't too late!

Her breathing grew louder as she seemed to try to gather enough air in her seared lungs to form the next few words.

"Did we...save...the boy?"

Jeong Jeong felt warm tears run down his face, mixing with the cool rain as it fell all around them.

"Yes," he said, his voice a pained rasp, "the boy lives."

"Is...he...?"

She trailed off, but he knew what she was trying to ask. 'Is he an Avatar?' but he couldn't bring himself to tell her truth. That they had failed. That all this had been for nothing. Even now, he could feel it, the power the child was pouring out into the night as the guru's words rang in his ears. A wound.

"I...I see," she said, finding the truth in his silence, "Not...your fault."

Olon arrived, cradling her injured hand, and Jeong Jeong very carefully produced the smallest flame he could. When she looked at Fen, Olon gasped.

"Help her!" Jeong Jeong pleaded, "Please!"

Olon looked down on Fen, then at her own injured hand, and said, "I can't. We have to stop the boy first!"

"HOW!?" he screamed, "How do we make him stop?"

The look in the old woman's eye as she failed to answer, it was the same look the guru had given. Shame and sadness.

A cold feeling began to spread through Jeong Jeong's body as he realized there was only one solution available to him. He looked down at Fenfang, the woman he loved, and he looked to the child who they had risked everything for. His jaw locked down tight as he made his decision, and his pain melted from his face as he accepted his task with grim purpose.

"Jeong Jeong..." Fen whispered, painfully, "no..."

He walked toward the child, who had wandered nearly half way to them already. He positioned himself so that there was no one between them or behind the boy. He dropped into his form, found his root, and with both fists thrust forward, he unleashed the full force of his flames. They erupted with such violent force that he was pushed back several feet, and the gout of flame that shrieked across the already blasted earth was nothing short of nightmarish. It howled against the world and lashed out almost uncontrollably, and as it reached the boy, Jeong Jeong saw his face.

The child was terrified.

Jeong Jeong looked away, squeezing his eyes shut against the atrocity he was committing, but, not even a second later, he was forced to look again. The fire seemed to hit a wall before the child, then exploded violently outward, tongues of flame and molten earth cascading down around him. Smoke and debris filled the air for several seconds, and as it settled, he saw the boy again, now huddled down and hugging his knees as he shook from the fear.

As the child's sobbing reached his ears, Jeong Jeong realized what he had almost done, what he had intended to do, and, horrified, he looked down to his shaking hands. What had he done? How was he any better than the rest of the Fire Nation?

He looked over to Fen, and saw her arm outstretched toward the child, and realized she had saved him. The wall his flames had met was one of air. Gratitude and shame consumed him, and he dropped from his stance, standing helplessly in disgrace.

What was he supposed to do? What could he do? All he had was fire, and all fire did was destroy.

Sudden movement roused him from his stupor as two figures dashed in toward the child. He recognized them. Sun Yu and Shu Po. They closed on the boy just as he began to stand up, wiping at his eyes and sniffling. Just before they closed on him, the boy, fearful and confused, thrust his arms out toward them, and, like waves of heat, two blasts of raw power distorted the air as they traveled toward his apparent attackers, churning the earth beneath them as they flew. The chi masters both leaped aside at nearly the last moment and were knocked several feet by the disturbed air that burst from the impact that followed.

Both Sun Yu and Shu Po landed and quickly recovered, falling back to Master Olon, but Jeong Jeong stayed put. He was too ashamed to look Fen in the eyes after what he had tried to do.

"What do we do?" he heard Shu Po ask, "I believe we can block his chi if we can get close enough. Perhaps that will allow the boy to gain control."

"Or at least give you time to heal Fenfang," Sun Yu agreed, "so that we might retreat."

"We can't just leave the boy like this!" Olon objected.

As they worked out their plan, Jeong Jeong watched the child, and the child watched him. His cheeks were wet, but he looked hurt and angry now. What had he done to deserve Jeong Jeong's attack? What must that have looked like to him?

He remembered the look on Fen's face, the day she had lay, cradling her dead master. The unspoken accusation in her eyes. His heart heavy with guilt and bitter memories, he began to walk toward the boy. He clasped his hands behind his back, and advanced with even, careful strides, looking into the boy's glowing, fearful, angry eyes as he did.

"Jeong Jeong, what are you doing? Be careful!" Olon called out.

He kept moving, kept his eyes locked on the boy's, and kept his hands folded behind his back.

The boy retreated a step, and threw up a hand to defend himself. As he did, a blast erupted from it, and burst through Jeong Jeong. He felt it hit him like a wave breaking over a rock, and yet it flowed into and through him. It rattled every fiber of his being. It rent the air around him and shattered the earth beneath him. Flames licked from his body as his own energies threatened to burst forth and consume him, and as the wave past, Jeong Jeong found himself on one knee, the edges of his robe smoldering from his own uncontrolled flames.

He recovered, slowly, painfully, then folded his hands behind his back, and began to walk forward again. This was penance for what he had done.

He advanced another five paces, and the boy retreated one. Another blast ripped through Jeong Jeong, this time causing his robe to burn away, leaving the clothing beneath to smolder and blacken as he continued onward, pace by pace, hands folded, eyes locked. His head pounded harshly and every muscle ached from enduring the blasts, but still he moved toward the child.

He was nearly there, a mere three paces away, when the boy screamed, crouching down as a final blast struck the earth around him. It collapsed inward, forming a crater while rocks like spearhead and slate like flying knives erupting from the ground all around the screaming child. One jagged piece cut upward, across Jeong Jeong's right eye, staggering him. But he remained on his feet. He righted himself once again, blood running down his face, and he took the last three steps to stand before the boy.

As he stood over him, looking down at him, the boy stood straight again and matched Jeong Jeong's stare with fearful resentment.

"What is your name?" Jeong Jeong asked him.

He could almost make out the color of the child's eyes beyond the nearly blinding light as he answered, his lip quivering, "I don't know. I don't remember. Why did you try to burn me?"

When an Avatar spoke in such a state, they spoke with the voices of all the avatars before them. This child's voice was alone. It was powerful, but it was only one tiny, frightened voice.

Jeong Jeong closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and released it, calming his inner fire as he knelt beside the boy.

"I am sorry, boy," he said, slowly bringing his hands forward from behind his back and resting them on the child's shoulders, "I acted rashly. You did not deserve what I tried to do. Please forgive me."

The boy went ridged at first, then, his body shaking and tears running down his face, he relaxed. Jeong Jeong pulled the boy closer, and the child began to cry.

"I'm scared," he said, "I can't make it stop."

Jeong Jeong looked over to the others, and nodded to the two chi masters. Then nodded back, and carefully approached.

"We're going to help you," Jeong Jeong said, reassuringly, "I promise. We have to make it stop, or the kind lady, the one who is hurt, the one that protected you...she is going to die...so please," he said, tears in his own eyes, "please, let us try to help you."

He held the child steady as Sun Yu and Shu Po took positions on either side of him. When they were ready, he grasped the boy by the shoulders again, and looked into his eyes.

"These two are going to try to make it stop," he said, "It may sting a little, but please, bear with it."

The boy looked uncertain, but then he looked over to Fen, then to the ground at his feet, and he nodded.

The two chi masters both struck with blinding speed, striking opposing places on the child's body in perfect unison. It was over in a second, and the boy fell forward into Jeong Jeong's arms as he yelped from the pain.

Jeong Jeong caught him, and a wave of relief flooded him as the light began to fade from his eyes. The boy sobbed, and looked up at Jeong Jeong.

Jeong Jeong managed a smile as he looked down on him. His eyes were green.

"Good," he said, "You did very good, boy."

As the poor, nameless child cried into his shoulder, Jeong Jeong's eyes darted to Olon, who immediately gathered the falling rain onto her hands, healing her own wound even as she attempted to heal Fenfang. Her bending under control now that the boy was subdued, but she only attempted it for a moment, then stopped, her shoulders slumped as she looked back at him, speechless.

"What are you doing? Heal her!" Jeong Jeong called to her. But then he noticed. The glowing waters on the old woman's hands illuminated Fen enough to see that her chest no longer rose or fell, that her eyes were glassy as they stared, unblinking into the falling rain.

Jeong Jeong's heart seized in his chest, and the boy continued to softly sob into his shoulder. They were too late.

Olon closed Fens eyes with her hand, and stood. She walked, stone faced, across the ravaged clearing, first to Guru Burdak. Her hand became encased in glowing waters, and after a few minutes, she rose, and went to Master Brock. She spent more time on him, but after nearly ten minutes, she returned to Jeong Jeong's side.

The boy was calm now, but had a lost, shaken expression. By the pity in Olon's eyes as she looked down to him, Jeong Jeong assumed he held much the same appearance.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "there was nothing I could do. This was all my idea. My fault."

"How are the others?" he asked, exhausted and nearly dead to the world.

"They will live," Olon said, dourly, "Guru Burdak is blind, and Master Brock will likely never walk again, but they will live."

"What of Dao Ren and Lee Hou?"

"Both were lost when the dome burst," Sun Yu answered from behind him, "We searched for them before seeing your flames and rushing to your aid. We found nothing."

"What do we do now?" Jeong Jeong asked aloud. He didn't expect an answer. Their plan had failed. They hadn't created a new Avatar. He wasn't sure what they had created, but this boy would not bring balance to the world. In fact, he only seemed to throw it further into chaos.

They all stood there, without answers or hope as the darkness began to encroach on their spirits, when the guru began to groan. The air shifted suddenly, and an eerie fog began to roll out of the surrounding woods. Shapes flitted through the mists, some like living shadows, others glowing with a faint, otherworldly light. They closed with the fog, staying just out of sight as they looked on with gleaming eyes.

"What is this?" Sun Yu asked, "Spirits?"

The boy whimpered, and Olon cradled him defensively as the fog washed across their feet, rising to consume their legs, their waists, and finally rise above their heads. The apparitions flitted closer and closer, some seeming to come within arms reach before retreating again, and whispers filled the air. The masters all gathered in a circle around the boy and prepared to fight.

"We may have angered them," Olon said, "what we did here was unnatural, and it has done great damage."

"Indeed," a deep, smooth, unnerving voice said from Jeong Jeong's right. All heads turned, but only caught a glimpse of a long, glistening carapace and the scuttle of many chitinous legs as the voice moved around them, "the veil between our two worlds has been made thin in this place. We came at the call of the child."

"Do not listen!" Guru Burdak called out from somewhere in the mist, "He is a dark spirit!"

"Oh?" the voice asked, amused, "I am but a spirit, dark and light are concepts with little inherent meaning. Much like good or evil. But I am called Koh. Worry not, for there are many others here who would just as soon protect as I would steal. 'Light' to my perceived 'dark,' you might say."

"What do you want, spirit?" Olon asked, holding the child tightly.

"As I said," Koh answered, "we are here for the child."

The boy clung suddenly to Olon's arm, and she knelt down with him like a mother protecting her own young.

"What do you want with him?" Jeong Jeong asked.

"We mean him no harm," a new voice spoke out. It was calm, and warm, and motherly, "but here, in the world of the living, he is as a wound. He will throw the world out of balance, tear apart the boundaries between your world and ours."

"How will taking him with you be any better?" Jeong Jeong asked, firmly.

"His physical body is the conduit," Koh said, "the wound through which the cosmic energy flows. In the spirit world, his body can be suspended while his spirit may roam free. It is, admittedly, a temporary solution, but without the Avatar, this world lacks one who can truly mend the damage you have caused."

"But the Avatar is gone!" Jeong Jeong protested, "Does this mean the boy can never be healed?"

"The Avatar is not gone," the motherly voice said, knowingly, "he is merely lost. We can feel his presence, and the spirits of his predecessors still wander our world. Rest assured, when the time is right, the true Avatar will return."

"How can we trust you?" Olon asked, suspiciously, "How can we hand him over when he's just a child?"

Koh laughed, and his form cut through the fog, surrounding their small group completely like a wall of black, scurrying armor, moving around them continuously as his many legs lashed out toward them. The boy buried his face in Olan's robes, and the enormous insect said, "Do you think we are giving you a choice? We are taking the child, and you can do nothing to stop it."

"Enough Koh," the other voice boomed, now firm and powerful. Koh laughed with a dark glee as he slipped back into the mists, and the other spirit continued in his place, calming her voice as she spoke, "You must understand, the boy cannot remain in your world. He is calm now, but you have only stopped him temporarily. Soon, his powers will return, and it will begin again. Our worlds are intertwined. What affects your world also affects ours, and what affects our world in turn affects your own. The balance is already being threatened here. We cannot allow this child to stay..."

. . .

Lightning struck outside his hut as Jeong Jeong slowly roused from his memories. He stared into his dwindling fire and thought back on that terrible night. Now, in the twilight years of his life, he wished he could say that they had not given the boy up, or that they had gone in search of a way to help him, but he could not. He would not allow his memory to be clouded by what could have been. He faced his demons as the storm outside seemed to do its part in reenacting it all for him. How many regrets had he lived with? How many years had he spent pondering them?

With Fenfang's death, there had been little for him in the White Lotus, and with their failure, the Black Lotus had all but disbanded. For a time, Jeong Jeong poured himself into this career in the Fire Navy, but that did little to ease his tattered soul. The other surviving masters held council with the grandmasters of the White Lotus, and confessed all they had done. Their plan to create a new Avatar, and what they had unleashed upon the world instead. It would be many long years before he learned what became of them.

When he could not longer tolerate the actions of his own nation, Jeong Jeong deserted his post. He had become a true master of fire, that cursed element which burdens its wielder with terrible power, and robs from him that which he holds dear. He had tried to live in seclusion, in peace, but the great war raged on without end. Until, finally, the Avatar returned. Jeong Jeong failed to teach him. Another failure. Another student led astray. Despite it all, Aang succeeded. The world was restored to balance, and Jeong Jeong had found a small degree of repentance in the roll he and the White Lotus had ultimately played in this.

But here, left with only this thoughts, his memories, and his sorrows, Jeong Jeong wondered what ever became of that boy. The last images of him, being led by the gentle hands of a motherly spirit, disappearing with them into the fog and out of their world, were burned into his mind forever. The avatar had returned. The world was set to right...

But what of the boy?