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World of Spirits

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Summary: Azula has a new toy that is guaranteed to capture the Avatar. Of course, it fails dismally. And someone else pays a heavy price.

AN: Sokka-based…but really, it's heavily based with all of the main characters…in one chapter or another. Um…that's all. Enjoy.

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In her hands lay the Spirit Idol.

Princess Azula didn't typically rely on such superstitious trinkets. Golden chalice this, holy emblem that—who actually used that kind of garbage? The whole world could go up in smoke and the sages of the Fire Temple would still be cowering under their towers of old, dusty scrolls, waiting for the Avatar to come and save their pathetic little existence from being wiped out.

Well, two-thousand-year-old traditions never stopped her from breaking a few necks so far. And who was to say that all of the temple's artifacts were useless?

This looks exactly like that object grandfather wouldn't stop rambling about, she thought with deep, invigorating satisfaction. Behind her, the old geezer sage who had traded the Idol for his life was dragged away by her henchmen—well, soldiers, anyway. The touch of cool metal and tempered weight of the delicate model was unimpressive, but there was no mistaking its authenticity. She'd had to kill four very unfortunate people just to get her hands on it.

Her plan was faultless. Every attempt she had ever made to capture the Avatar so far had ended with failure—

No, not failure.

Mere obstacles.

But this time, it was different. She'd been thinking too literally. Trying to outmaneuver that little Airbender weasel and his flying cow was too time-consuming. As long as he had his bending powers and his Avatar State, the chances of letting him slip away were too high from now on. If she was going to trap him for good, she had to make sure he couldn't escape…and that his water peasants stayed out of the picture.

So. How does one permanently disable another's bending abilities and keep him a prisoner?

With the Spirit Idol, of course.

Really, it was said to have been used by ancient Firelords to trap and subdue dangerous Fire Spirits and harness their power. But she knew the Idol was much more practical than that. Under the right circumstances, the Spirit Idol could trap a perfectly ordinary person's spirit in the Spirit World…and not only that, but chain it eternally to follow the Idol wherever it went.

If her father wanted the Avatar so badly, who said he needed the Avatar's body? If the Idol worked properly, maybe it was even possible to harness the Avatar's power through the Spirit World.

Naturally, she didn't care one way or the other. It would be so incredibly satisfying to see the look on Zuko's face when he delivered Aang's spiritless body at the feet of the Firelord, only to learn that his more productive baby sister had already accomplished what he couldn't.

Azula stepped out onto the temple's sun-baked terrace and inhaled the summer air. She eyed the metal figure in her palms. The sage had been generous enough to impart the Firebending technique she needed to use this wretched thing. But now that she had the tool, she needed an idea on how to use it…

What would make the Avatar most vulnerable?

The answer was so obvious; it was impossible to refrain from laughing. Could capturing him really be this easy?

Well, she mused, tightening her grip around the artifact. I guess there's only one way to find out.

-
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Sokka lay stretched out on his back, thoroughly enjoying the relaxing, worry-free feeling of having absolutely nothing to do.

That's right. Sweet, sunny daydreams. The air was crisp, the grass soft, the sun warm, the river pleasant-sounding…

Wait.

There wasn't a river nearby.

It struck him an instant later. 'It', of course, referring to the wave of cold water that suddenly hit him from above. He jumped to his feet, thoroughly drenched to his skin and yelling loudly over Toph's uncontrollable laughter.

"Katara, why'd you do that?" he cried, waving his arms. He rounded on his sister and Aang, who happened to be standing on the other side of their campsite.

Katara folded her arms. "It wasn't me, Sokka; it was Aang. And even though I'm sure it was an accident, you're supposed to be awake and gathering supplies for tomorrow!"

Supplies? Supplies? "What—" he almost squeaked. Then he got a little angrier. "But I did that already! They're right over—"

He swung around to point at the pile of berry sacs and carefully packaged vegetables that he'd so meticulously organized the day before. What he saw made his jaw drop open and Aang's icy water bath instantly became the last thing he cared about.

Appa gazed back at him, casually munching on the remains of their food supplies. Momo froze midway through the act of popping a berry into his mouth. Chirping at the death-glare on Sokka's face, the lemur took a swift dive under the cover of Appa's front legs and didn't emerge.

Trembling, Sokka whirled around once more and just about exploded in protest. "How could you just stand there and not do anything?" he cried. "Come on! I spent almost six hours getting us enough food to last us three days!"

Katara and Aang exchanged glances. The Avatar smiled sheepishly, but his sister was as stubborn as always. "Aang and I were too busy training, Sokka. You're the one who was napping on the job"

"Yeah, but—

"You know, you could have prevented this from happening if you'd remembered to feed Appa last night," Toph remarked detachedly, having appeared behind the flying bison. Now she stood while stroking Appa's forehead with a resolute stinginess that wasn't at all unexpected. "That, and you left all the food just lying on the ground. Admit it, meat-boy. You're slipping."

"Slipping?" Sokka reacted. "Why exactly is it that I'm the only one who does this stuff? Whatever happened to 'everyone does their part', huh, Katara?"

But that didn't melt her stern glare in the slightest. Instead, his younger sister stalked towards him with cold fire in her eyes and stuck a finger in his face.

"We have been doing our parts, Sokka," she replied impatiently. "You said it yourself; the most important thing right now is for us to prepare for the future. That's what Aang and I are doing. What's your excuse?"

"Yeah. Even I did my job," Toph added with a defiant smirk. She bobbed her head towards the circle of tents, all made from the rock they now stood on. Wood had been stacked in a neat pile beside the fire pit and there was a pot of water starting to boil their dinner.

Sokka blinked in mind-bending surprise. Then his arms and shoulders deflated. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Uh…sorry, Sokka," Aang apologized a little hesitantly, scratching the back of his head. "If you need help gathering the supplies again, I could—"

"No," came the sharply reply. Sokka clenched his fists and swiftly grabbed the pack he'd left on the ground. "Forget it. I'll just do it myself."

The tone of his voice must have broken Katara's ice-cold stance, because she softened and raised a hand to stop him. "Wait, Sokka, I didn't mean—"

"I said I'd do it, Katara!" he snapped over his shoulder as he stormed down the hillside. "In case you forgot, an almighty warrior from the Water Tribe never sli—"

"Look out," said Toph.

Too late. Sokka slipped on a rock. As soon as his foot came down, the ground moved underneath him and he took a dive headfirst down the rocky slope and landed heavily on his chest.

"Whoops. Sorry. Tried to warn you," the blind Earthbender called from above, without a shred of sincerity.

Boiling in his veins, he threw himself to his feet and stalked off towards the flat plateaus behind their campsite. He purposely shut out the voices yelling after him, focusing on the uneven slope of the path in front of him instead.

Stupid Katara. Stupid Aang. Stupid giant hairball and stupid flying monkey! What was the point of doing anything if they were all going to turn against him anyway? Six hours! Six long hours of pulling ewwy, disgusting potatoes and duck roots out of the ground…for nothing! His boomerang was still covered in dirt from all that digging!

His arms were still stiff from all that work. And here he was…whoop-dee-doo, starting to do the exact same thing he had to do last night. It wasn't his job to feed Appa. Appa wasn't his flying bison; he was Aang's! The last time he checked, the overgrown pile of wet fur could find his own tree or a bush or something to digest. Why did it have to be his food that Appa wanted?

It didn't occur to him until he came to the edge of the plateau that he was going too fast. This tiny little island didn't have much food growing on it to begin with.Now where was he going to get it? He'd practically turned it inside out already. Unless he resorted to catching fish—and he was really,really getting sick of eating fish—there probably wasn't enough food left on dry land to feed them for one day.

Overwhelmed by his frustration, Sokka squeezed the boomerang in his hand before hurling it with all his might into the hazy sunlight. He didn't even wait for it to come back. He'd get it later. Right now, it just…made him angry to look at it.

Sokka the errand boy. Sokka the great berry-picker. Sokka the man-servant. Toph could easily uproot every single edible thing in the ground with a single lift of her finger, but did she help? No! And all Aang had to do was shake the trees a little with his Airbending, and then he wouldn't have so spend do much time stuck in trees, getting pricked by thorns and covered in berry juice!

His rage mounted, adding pressure to the center of his ribs. This was the last time he did anything that Katara goaded him into doing. She never listened to him anymore. It used to be so different, back at the South Pole. She'd actually thought of him as her big, protective older brother.

But ever since Aang showed up…she was different. It was like being a Waterbender made her better than him somehow.

It wasn't fair to blame either her or Aang, but it didn't change how he felt. He'd never be able to stand up to someone like Azula or Zuko. Not like they could. So long as he was flammable and those two psychotic royal siblings knew how to Firebend, he was as good as dead when it came to one-on-one dueling.

Just how was he supposed to be Katara's big, protective brother when she did all the fighting for him?

Kicking a stone over the edge of the plateau, Sokka turned with heavy shoulders and started to comb the island in search for food.

-
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Three hours and two packs of various rations later, he managed to climb back up the steep hill towards the campsite.

The sun went down even before he'd started back. Somehow, he'd known it would be dark by the time he finished gathering. Again. Only this time, he had one third of the food they'd had before, and it had taken him half as long! The math was way wrong.

Sokka dragged his feet along the dry dirt. The wind pushed at him from behind. His muscles ached. Everything was just starting to look up…at least now he could get some rest. Katara and the others would probably have dinner ready and his sleeping roll would be open and waiting for him…just waiting, for him to climb in and…sleep.

He'd spent most of the day griping to himself about Katara and the others. But, tired as he was, at least things weren't going to get any worse.

Thunder rolled in the distance. And, with the guise of his ironic, twisted fate, the sky suddenly opened up and a torrent of thick, heavy rain poured down on him from above.

He wanted to cry.

Instead, he shifted the packs on his shoulder and kept climbing. In his mind, he repeated over and over again, Please let there be dinner. Please let there at least still be dinner!

Finally, the campsite came into view. Sokka stopped dead in his tracks at the site of the blackened fire pit. The overturned pot. The three occupied rock-tents with carelessly dreaming friends of his inside. A loudly snoring Appa stuck inside his own little lean-to against the cliff face. And…

No.

Meat.

The packs skimmed down his shoulders and landed in the mud. A multitude of round, fire-red berries tumbled out and floated away in shallow stream of water that curved down the rocks. Desolately, Sokka turned and began to trudge away from the gathering of earth tents.

Fine. He didn't need their shelter or their food. He could find a place to sleep and something to eat on his own.

That's what he thought, anyway.

He took five steps before he heard it—the sound that deafened even the pelting storm. His hand unconsciously flew to the hilt of his sword and hovered. Water splashed around his boots as he took a brisk fighting stance, waiting for the invader to leap out and surprise him at any moment…

But no one came. Sokka waited, water dripping in a steady stream from the point of his chin: eyes carefully scanning the fog for the telltale shape of an enemy.

Suddenly, the sound came again. This time, he could make out words through the din of the storm.

"…please, help! Somebody, please, help me!"

His hand dropped away from the hilt in surprise. Was that a woman? Here, on this dinky little island in the middle of nowhere? How was that possible?

"Help," the voice sobbed again, echoing slightly this time. It was…fading? "Someone—anyone—help me!"

Sokka's heroic instincts abruptly overrode everything in his mind, and he rushed forward through the screen of white haze. He glanced backwards only once—everyone was still asleep, undisturbed by the voice. That was fine. He could handle this on his own, anyway.

He deftly scaled over several large, flat plateaus and through the twisting, stone escarpments. The rain drove all around him, but he could hear the woman's desperate voice grow louder and clearer as he grew nearer to the edge on the other side of the highlands where they camped.

Eventually, he slowed to a walk as he came to the long, narrow cliff that protruded over the crashing waves of the ocean far, far below. The voice had stopped. Despite the thickness of the fog and the darkness, he could make out the slight figure of an object on the ground near jagged point of the cliff side.

Sokka approached delicately, too curious to stay back and too logical to pitch forward without a plan. He inched forward, getting closer to the thing sitting on the rocks with his sword outstretched in front of him.

Was that…a doll? It looked like that Painted Lady doll from the fishing place they'd visited before…what was its name again? Anyway, of all places, who would put a doll out here? And how?

He heard nothing but the wind and rain. Finally won over by his need to investigate, Sokka leaned forward and poked the figurine with the end of his sword.

Nothing happened.

He poked it again.

Still nothing.

"Hmmm…" He stood straighter, placing a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Now this has definitely gotten…a little weird."

"You're mine, Avatar!"

The flash of movement happened fast and he didn't have time to react. A shadow came lunging at him from over the edge of the cliff. Sokka brought up his sword to parry, but found himself paralyzed as the white, blinding fire shot from Azula's hands and into his body.

He vaguely remembered floating somewhere very distant. Very…cold. And that was just before he blacked out.

-

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TBC

AN: Classic cliffhanger. Poor Sokka. Poor Azula. Even she makes mistakes, it seems…