Author's note: You know the oddest thing occurred to me recently. I received more reviews when I nearly abandoned this series than I have ever gotten from posting a new chapter….
-ponders-
…I'm not quite sure how to feel about that… o.0
-shrugs-
Anyway, back to the 'show'.
Momo gaped at the saddle, disbelieving what he saw. With a resolve only a loyal pet could possess, he quickly began searching the empty blankets, frantically turning up the hems and tossing them aside, tunneling underneath the covers and coming out the other end empty handed.
Once by one he checked them all before finally plopping down despondently among the disarray, his ears dropping along his back as he let out a distraught and helpless purr.
The first thing Toph was aware of was a blurred sense of her surroundings; one she shouldn't have had in Appa's saddle. Still curled up on her side, she moved her hand along what should have been tightly woven Water Tribe canvas, but instead her fingers raked across the sand.
Fighting the haze of sleep that clouded her brain, she sat up slowly, digging her palms into the fine, grainy ground as she tried to figure out where she was and how she got there.
"Did I fall out of the saddle?" she wondered aloud.
But the bison's weight, which was unmistakable even in such blurred conditions, was nowhere to be found, nor was any other presence. Her breaths became shorter as she tried to quell her rising panic.
"Aang? Zuko?" she called nervously. "Anyone?"
There was no response.
"Come on guys," she called again, trying to cover her fear with annoyance, "if this is a joke, it isn't funny."
As she stood on the small isle, her feet sifting through the sand for any sign of life, she was unable to see or otherwise detect the thick mist that surrounded her, leaving only a tiny clearing; the space she occupied.
It roiled and slithered, hungrily circling the blind girl who was ignorant of its presence…and powerless against it.
Sokka sighed as he leaned his forehead against Suki's, gently tracing a finger along her jaw line, trailing it to her lips. She tilted her head ever so slightly, and their mouths met in gentle passion. But when he drew her closer to deepen the kiss, his arm sank right into her body. He pulled back in horror as she melted away into dust….slipping through his fingers like…
Sokka sat up with a splutter.
"Sand," he spat, wiping the grime from his mouth with the back of his hand, and furiously brushing and simultaneously blowing the grains off his tongue. "Plew! Ack! Bleh!"
He fully expected to hear a round of giggles at his embarrassing awakening, but when none came, he stood up and looked around. The air was filled with swirling mist, and there was no one around. As near as he could tell, it was morning, but the light was considerably dimmed by the thick mantle of fog that surrounded him.
"Katara?" he shouted nervously. "Aang?"
Trying to ignore his own fear, Sokka headed into the fog to find the others. He never even noticed the shapeless form that coalesced behind him briefly before dissipating back into the mist to follow after him, the dense fog swallowing the space where he'd been.
The mist thinned only slightly as Katara made her way through it. By now, she had determined that she was alone on a sand bar, but how she had gotten there and where the others might be was still a complete mystery. Having traversed the islet from one end to the other and finding nothing, she stopped at the edge of the water and peered into the fog.
Wherever the others were, they certainly weren't here. Her mind made up, she took a stance to bend the mist away in the hopes she might be able to see further across the shallow sea. But much to her dismay, the dampness in the air refused to respond to her command.
Flabbergasted at her failure, she tried again with the same results…or lack thereof. She stamped her foot in angry frustration and let out an irritated huff. Then calming herself slightly, she tried to pull up some water from the ocean. It rose to her call and flowed around as she dictated.
"Well," she concluded with some small relief, "it's not my bending…"
Useless to aid her in her plight, she let the liquid drop to the sand with a disgruntled and brooding sigh.
"But why can't I bend the mist?"
Iroh stood calmly in the fog, eyes closed, and hands pressed together as he gathered his breath, preparing an attempt to burn away the dense vapor. His eyes snapped open as he unleashed a blast of searing blue flame. It was overkill, he was sure, but best to try the big stuff first, he figured, and since he'd already determined there was no one else around he saw no reason to hold back.
The fire spread out quickly from his fists, cutting a path through the mist before him, evaporating the water from the air. A small grin tugged at his mouth, but it quickly fell when the fog deepened, rising and swirling then devouring the flames, quenching them with an angry hiss.
He stepped back and blinked for a moment in surprise before scratching his head confoundedly.
"Well, that was unexpected," he mumbled to himself, eyes still wide in disbelief.
Taking a deep breath, he tried it again, this time with a smaller, more focused blast. And once again, the mist engulfed the fire, consuming it in much the same fashion as a prickle-snake dining on an egg. Iroh merely let out a short 'Hrm.'
"I guess it's time to try something else," he said aloud, the sound of his own voice brining a small measure of comfort in this unusual and unsettling circumstance.
Walking until he found the edge of the isle, he took a tentative step into the water, and stopped. The mist had become almost solid, forcing him to put all his weight into moving forward. He grunted against the strain for a moment, pushing against the mist.
It pushed back.
With a speed and strength unimaginable from such a tenuous substance, the fog thrust the old fire bender down into the soft sand, where he landed on his rump. But his shock at being thrown was nothing compared to what he felt when the fog melded to form a contemptuous and disapproving scowl.
It glared at him with baleful colorless eyes for a moment, before dissolving back into the mist as though it had never existed, leaving the retired general to blink and gape at the swirling fog in disconcerted alarm.
Aang took a deep breath and let it out quickly, then leaned forward on his air scooter as it raced across the sand. He rocketed into the wall of mist at the water's edge…and snapped backward like an arrow shot from a bow. With a yell, he sailed the full distance back across the isle, slammed into the billowing mist on the other side, and then landed face down onto the sand with an 'oof!'
Sand blew out from around his nose briefly as he let out a disgruntled breath. Then, heaving a heavy sigh, he got to his feet, spitting sand from his mouth and brushing it from his clothes. He'd now tried everything he could think of. Neither air nor water bending had any affect whatsoever on the roiling fog and it apparently sucked out all sound from the bison whistle. As for leaving…well that hadn't turned out well at all.
"What am I supposed to do?" he yelled in frustration.
"What do you want to do?" whispered a genderless voice from what seemed to be directly behind him.
He spun around, hands up and ready to defend himself…but there was only the mist. Confused, he dropped from his stance and shook his head. Maybe his ears were playing tricks on him. Regardless, he took a few steps back from the area he thought the sound came from, looking about warily as he did so.
"So eager to leave?" the sibilant voice hiss once more, and this time Aang could swear he felt a cold breath on the back of his neck.
Whirling around to face the presence, he almost missed the expressionless face before it shifted out of focus to rejoin the fog.
"Who are you?" the Avatar shouted, growing tired of being toyed with by…whatever it was prowling in the mist. "Show yourself!"
"But I am showing myself," insisted the voice lazily. "Or perhaps you cannot see me…like the little blind earth bender?"
"What have you done with Toph?" Aang demanded angrily, poised to fight despite how useless the gesture might be. "Where are my friends?"
Peering into the fog, Aang could now make out segments of fog that seemed thicker than the rest, gliding through the haze like an eel in murky waters. Icy fear gripped him as he realized that the thing taunting him was most definitely not human.
"Your friends are safe," it reassured him coyly.
Suddenly, the milky fog formed into a wickedly grinning face right in front of Aang's wide, startled eyes before quickly disappearing again.
"…For now."
Zuko kept his fists held up before him, ready to unleash a blast of fire as he turned in a slow circle, narrowed eyes restlessly scanning the swirling mist. His feet made hardly any noise in the soft sand as he continued his vigilant and battle-ready investigation of the vacant island where he awoke.
But despite his confident defensive stance, inside he was completely unnerved. He was certain something lurked nearby, for he had caught sight of a long, snakelike shape gliding through the fog more than once.
A tendril emerged from the haze behind him, languidly stretching out to caress his shoulder. Catching the movement from the corner of his eye, he whirled around to face the threat, but it evaporated into the mist. His breaths were coming faster now as he struggled to remain calm and focused.
"Don't be afraid," crooned a voice from behind, cold air brushing against his flesh.
A frightened yell escaped his lips as he spun around again, this time letting a blast of flames erupt from his fist. The action was greeted by husky laugh that seemed to echo and shift through the fog all around him, and his eyes scanned the area for its source.
"Poor little princeling," it continued to purr sympathetically from a location Zuko could not pinpoint. "Unloved, unwanted….hideous," the last word was hissed right into his ear.
His body tensed at the proximity, and the hair on his neck stood on end, but he held his ground, refusing to be cowed by the unseen being, and the stinging insult turning his fear into bitter anger.
"What do you want?" he growled, lowering his hands and balling them at his sides.
The mist coalesced before him, forming into a long thick tendril of icy fog. He went rigid as it wound around his body, moving seductively across his shoulders and down his back, and then circling around his chest before reaching up to stroke his scarred cheek.
"The real question," it answered slyly, "is what do you want?"
"Right now, I'd like to get off this island," Zuko stated with a boldness he didn't quite feel.
"What's the matter, my prince?" the voice sighed as the snakelike form embracing him suddenly dispersed into nothing. "Are you missing your…friends?"
"What have you done with them?" asked Zuko with a dangerous edge. "If you've hurt them-"
Another sultry laugh interrupted as the mist continued to writhe and twist just out of sight.
"I'm not the one you should be worried about. My intentions are honorable," it suggested meaningfully. "You know all about honor, don't you, Prince Zuko."
"How do you know my name?" Zuko demanded suspiciously.
Again, the mist laughed; that pervasive, humorless, and almost sensual laugh devoid of all human emotion.
"I know every facet of you," it answered silkily in his ear, the sound receding distantly as the last syllable fell from the mist.
The fog then ceased its churning, and the frigid presence seemed to fade away, leaving the prince isolated and alone once more. He let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding and sank to the ground, feeling suddenly drained of all energy. But his relief was short-lived.
The sound of footfalls on sand bounced through the fog, and Zuko was on his feet in an instant. But as he turned to face the sound, he stepped back. A shadow, a real, corporeal, and solid form, was coming toward him. And as it moved closer, a startled gasp escaped the prince.
Emerging menacingly from the mist with swords drawn…was the Blue Spirit.
