Spirits: Book Three - The Spirit World

by Kuaishu

Following the battle in the South Pole, Avatar Aang and Katara are forced to cross into the Spirit World in order to track down the Avatar's greatest adversary yet, and the world's biggest threat. In the Mortal World, the Firelord and his companions are fighting a war of their own, an unlikely ally by their side as fire, water, and spirits clash. Can either world survive? KATAANG.

26. Daughter

Innua still had not grown accustomed, or even remotely comfortable, in the situation she now found herself in, in the depths of the Spirit World, sat upon a cool grey rock as she watched the spirit that she knew to call father pace before her. He mostly ignored her, she realised, his main focus now being on the tree that stood at the very center of the large jagged clearing, between the two faintly glowing chasms in the ground, their weak beams shooting up into the clouds. In truth, he did not speak much at all now, and where she had initially welcomed that, needing to recover from the truly traumatic ordeal she had been through, now it just frightened her.

In had felt like years that she had been trapped inside of Koh, in a suffocating blackness that slowly drew all the energy and hope from her, and in time she had begun to accept that she would never escape it. Her father would not save her, Koh would not spare her, her own strength had long faded and there was no chance that she could save herself. And so, she had wallowed, drifting in and out of consciousness, screaming sparingly when the weight of the dark grew too heavy for her yet, had ultimately fading out again before long. In both her conscious and unconscious moments she had dreamed, or at least that is what she had assumed was happening. Old memories, and new, conversations that she couldn't remember having had with anybody, or perhaps that she had simply forgotten, but always she would see one of two things ... her father, or the the Avatar. She slipped between the two, sometimes they overlapped and seemed to become one person, and those were the moments she feared most, the moments that would wake her with her own screams, the moments where, had she been aware of it, her father would have to stop, curl in on himself and against the pain, until she fell asleep again. There had been a powerful connection between her and her paternal spirit, one that she had not been aware of and, now that she was free of Koh, she could not have imagined existed. Eventually, though, by some miracle, a light had broken into the darkness, a glorious warmth that touched the skin of her cheek so gently at first, and she had reached an arm out eagerly towards it, only for the miracle to become yet another source of pain in her life as it grew to a heat that was unbearable. She had screamed, turning her face to try and hide her eyes from it, feeling her cheek burn, and the skin on her arm started to bubble and boil. She had almost passed out, she was sure of that, before a coolness enclosed itself around her boiling arm, wrenching her out of the darkness with such a force that she could only cry, too weak to fight back as her whole body was pulled into the source of pain.

She had drifted in and out for days after that, the pain too intense for her to remain conscious for more than a few moments, moaning and crying incoherently. Her dreams continued, she saw her father, she saw the Avatar, she saw them become one, and she feared it. She feared her very existence.

It was during that time that her father had been most afraid. He had pulled his daughter free from Koh's control after he had finally found his own body, and it had not been easy. Koh, despite how weak he had appeared, had grown far stronger in the time that he had been in the Spirit World, and when the time came for him to finally break free of the spirit's body and reclaim his own, the battle had been far harder than he had fully anticipated. Koh had fought like a crazed, wounded beast, clawing at his own face in an effort to prevent Tonrar from escaping him, and despite the level of control that Tonrar had, it was still ebbing. He had needed the combined strength of himself, and of Innua, to keep the beast tamed, and now Innua had been inside of Koh too long. She had little to no strength remaining, and Koh could feel that. He could feel his chance to step forward and imprison Tonrar forever, and it took all that Tonrar had to escape with just his own life, let alone with his daughter's in tow. As soon as he was free, his soul wrenching out of the gaping hole in Koh's face, reaching out to grab his own empty shell, he felt Koh's grasp tighten, and he realised that although he held tight to Innua's soul, pulling her free was going to cause her intense pain, even injury. Sure enough, he had watch in horror as first her screams filled the air, Koh's claws dragging across her soul, peeling back her essence, and even as Innua finally fell free, sinking into her own body, he had seen the physical evidence of the injuries Koh had inflicted grow upon her body. The left side of her face burned suddenly, it was mild though it would certainly scar, though his biggest shock was the way her left arm seemed to bubble and boil before his very eyes, her screams now coming from her body as she recoiled and buckled on the ground, tears falling rapidly down her face before the pain grew so strong that she passed out. Tonrar had little time to focus on her in that moment, Koh was free of their control.

As expected, Koh made to flee, his talons hitting the ground hard as his body contorted, but Tonrar had his own body back, and his body was far stronger here in the Spirit World. He physically grappled the other spirit, landing on his back so that those sharp talons could not slice at him, and Koh snarled and swore, his hard body twisting under Tonrar's grip. Koh was the only other spirit that could close the tear between the world now, the only one left with any power that could help the Avatar, and he could not risk that happening. He called upon powers that had been hidden deep inside him for too long, calling to the spirits that he had left here in case he had needed them, and to his great relief they appeared around him. Men, women, children even whose souls he had long ago consumed or trapped, their spirits now the only thing that remained of them, and on his command they had worked to create a large crater in the ground, a crater into which he and Koh had fallen, him letting out a pained cry as one of those great talons finally found their mark, slicing across his cheek. But the impact of the fall, and Tonrar's weight on top of him, winded Koh for a moment, the spirit freezing with shock, and Tonrar took that moment to clear free of the crater, holding his arms out furiously as a cage of rock and ice entwined across it's surface, leaving the other spirit trapped inside, breathing heavily and painfully. Tonrar had turned to his daughter, willing his body not to collapse on the ground, but it was far too late for him to do anything to help her. Her arm had stopped burning, but what was left was a wreck, the skin red and singed, covered in blisters and deep welts. Her arm would likely be useless to her now, her beautiful face now marked, and he could only turn away from her.

Eventually Innua had woken. Her body felt painful, heavy, but she could not help but note that it was still her body. Her body, finally her own. She was no longer trapped inside of Koh, and although the pain in her arm was almost beyond what she could bear, it was a reminder that she was alive, and that her father had freed her. Her arm had been been wrapped in cloth coated in a foul smelling liquid that she did not recognise, and even as she sat up in an environment that she was not familiar, her own focus had been her arm, gently peeling back the cloth and breathing in sharply when she saw the deeply scarred flesh below. She whimpered, looking around her with mingled fear and confusion, until her eyes fell upon the tall dark spirit standing at her side, looking down at her with a soft expression, and her fear eased.

"Father?"

"You were injured," Tonrar replied simply. "You need to rest."

"But ... what happened? Where are we? Please, father-" but Tonrar seemed to wince, looking away from her, his expression dark.

"I said rest," he repeated, turning away from her and leaving her lying there, scared and in pain, as a woman came up on her other side. Innua pulled away in fear, having no idea who this woman was that held her hands out to her, until she noticed the blank look in her eyes. She was just another spirit, one of Tonrar's, who had come to tend to her wounds.

The days continued much the same, her father speaking little to her except to tell her when to eat and when to rest, the female spirit changing her dressing and cleaning her wounds. Eventually the days turned to weeks, and Innua had no better idea of where they were, or why they were there. She knew that they were in a place of great power, the presence of what she could only assume to be portals either side of them, a great humming tree at it's center that seemed to glow with a deep red light, but where he was remained a mystery. Tonrar would spend a lot of his time just staring at the tree, or pacing around it. Occasionally Koh would wake, and he would snarl and fight and crash against the side of his prison in an effort to break free, but Tonrar paid even he little heed, sometimes just scowling irritably in his direction before placing his focus back on the tree again, leaving Innua alone with her thoughts.

She was not sure what she had expected when she and Tonrar were reunited once more. She remembered the first time he had come to her so clearly, as if it had happened just the day before, and where it had once been a memory that filled her with complete bliss, she now looked back on it as a day where she could have perhaps chose differently, where she could have saved her arm, saved her sanity.

She had left the halls of Arnook's palace, internally frustrated. It had been years since Arnook had lost his daughter, Yue, and she had become the moon, yet it was still an event that weighed heavily down on the man. Things had only grown worse, however, since the death of his wife, too, and Innua was sure that it was a mistake she was going to find hard to rectify. She had poisoned Arnook's wife, like she had done her own mother, but instead of the death making Arnook's attachment to her stronger, it seemed to have only created a vast chasm between them. She had miscalculated, not something that she did often, and she was furious about it.

Now, Arnook was a weak man. A weak man who had built up walls around himself, walls that Innua had not thought would include herself. She was a talented bender, she was loved by many of her people, and Arnook had grown to see her as a surrogate daughter, raising her and giving her access to some of the very best bender's around in order to improve upon her skills. This closeness had made her as much a part of the Royal court as any of Arnook's advisors, and it was a role she had taken to with ease. The only issue, as it always seemed to be with her, was the mother. The mother of the moon spirit, who knew instinctively that Innua could not be trusted. She had tried, of course, to get on the woman's good side, but it was ultimately fruitless, and so she had been left with just one last option.

Although the war had ended some years previous, the North Pole was still experiencing it's own turmoil, caused most notably by a void in the royal family. Where as leaders in the South were still elected, the North had a much more traditional method of electing their next leaders, and with the death of Yue and the Chief and his wife having not had any other children, the question of who would take up Arnook's mantle upon his own death was one asked frequently and fervently. It had created a rift between many people living in the North, some believing that the closest living relative or Arnook, his brother, should be the one to take his place. This, in itself, offered further problems, not least of all that Arnook's brother had no children of his own, either, and wasn't much younger. Presumming that he outlived Arnook, it would only postpone the inevitable, with no valid heir to the throne. As such, many others believed that a new chief should be elected, decided upon by the people. Other's believed that Chief Arnook himself was the only one who could possibly select his successor, which in itself made the mental state of the Chief suddenly a very pressing issue. How could they entrust this choice to a heartbroken old man?

Innua had counted upon both of these possibilities ... she found Arnook's favour, and she also found the favour of her people. Surely, in this instance, she would be the logical choice to take over as Chief, regardless of what your beliefs were on the matter. But there were still some, she knew, that would stand against her. She was an orphan, the orphan to a spinster who had birthed her out of wedlock, an orphan who had no father to speak of. She had no title, no royal bloodline, she was a nobody that had somehow wormed her way into Arnook's close circle, and that was reason enough for many to not trust her. And, since the death of Arnook's wife, some had grown more suspicious of her, something that she simply could not have.

She had around her a small selection of close trusted friends, friends that knew of her desire to be Chief of the Northern Water Tribe, some of whom had their own influences over the Tribe. The most notable of which was none other than General Hanh, and his story had become that of legend over the last few years, though only she a handful of others knew the full truth behind it. Hanh was famous as the betrothed of the late Yue, the Moon Spirit, and although Yue had died before they could be married, that title held a great deal of weight still among the people, and to Arnook. Though Innua was certain that, had Yue survived Zhao's siege all those years ago, the Chief may well have changed his mind on who he would allow to marry his daughter, Hanh was still a vestigial link to his daughter that he could not let go. Hanh had bravely faced the great Admiral Zhao one-on-one, and he had told those that had found him, washed up on the shores of the city, that what had followed had been a long bloody battle that Zhao had only won on account of Hanh being out-numbered. Innua knew this was nonsense, but it worked in her favour for Hanh to become such a revered war hero, and General, and so she had said no more on the subject. Hanh accompanied her most everywhere, and with it came more whispers and rumours, rumours that she had done nothing to dispel. Hanh had not proposed, of course, and romantically they were not involved, but the whispers that they were to be engaged would not stop spreading anyway. It would work in her favour, she knew, to actually be engaged to the man. She knew well enough to know that betrothal was a powerful thing in the Water Tribes.

Kaneq, though not officially recognized with a title, was a famed warrior among their people. Whilst waterbending was an important part of the Northern culture, non-bender warriors still held a lot of influence and were revered among the common folk, and Kaneq was one of the best. In fact, he was said to be the best, after Hanh, though of course Innua alone was fully aware that Kaneq would easily slaughter Hanh in a one-on-one battle. Getting Kaneq on her side had been easy ... like many bachelor warriors in the North, he was easily swayed by a pretty face, and her face was one of the greatest. A single kiss from her, and an unworded promise that should he help her there may be much more than just a kiss in his future, and he was hers.

But where Hanh and Kaneq followed her blindly, there was one other that stood by her side throughout the years, and their relationship had always been more difficult. Perhaps it was because, of the three of them, he was the only one that she felt any degree of affection towards. Kanto had his own tragic background, one that would come to the surface on occasions, but that also had created a bond between the pair of the them that Innua was not beyond using. Kanto was son to a great warrior in their Tribe, who had died just a year earlier. But it was not a fact that brought him any pride. Kanto's father had been a cruel man after Kanto's mother died, and Innua was the only person who knew that he had beat his son often, perhaps in a misplaced effort to teach him strength, though more likely in a drunken rage. She knew for certain that the beating's had continued right up until the time of his father's death, something that she had never fully understood. Kanto was not a small man, and by the time he was eighteen his father had come down with a sickness that would ravage his body, leaving him weak. Kanto could have stopped him at any point, but his father still held a gruesome power over his son that he wielded with reckless abandon, and at the time of the funeral Kanto had stood with dead eyes and a freshly broken nose, whilst the people around him had wept.

Long before that stage, however, Kanto and Innua had grown to know one another. They were just kids when Kanto first came into her life, a small body with tears running down his bruised cheeks, so frail and so frightened looking, as her mother healed him. Her mother knew well of what was happening in Kanto's home life, but she had no power to stop it. Though she was a healer, and a talented one, she held no respect among the common folk of the North. She was called a whore, a spinster, she was spat at in the street and she would wake to find fish guts thrown against her front door, but to Kanto she was just the nice lady who had took pity on him one day, bringing him into her home so that she could heal the fresh grazes on his knees. Innua remembered peering around the doorway of their home, looking at the little boy as he rubbed his eyes, the tiniest smile on his face as he looked up at Kunika, her mother, and she remembered that it had bothered her greatly. Her mother was hers. Why should she let a little brat like this wade in and steal her affections? But to her great dislike, Kanto had come back again, and again, sometimes just to visit, sometimes with fresh wounds that needed attention, and Innua had felt her rage growing. It all came to a head one day when she came home to find her mother and Kanto sitting together at the table, she talking him through the different herbs that she had placed out before them, explaining what they were for. She had stormed in, her hands on her hips, as her eyes had blazed at the pair of them.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. She was only twelve years old at the time, Kanto a year younger, but she exuded such a natural strength that Kanto found he only felt afraid of her. "Why are you teaching him this stuff? You've not taught me any of this! I want him to leave, now!"

Kunika had looked up at her daughter, a tired expression on her face.

"Darling," she said quietly, "I have asked you before if you wanted to learn healing, but you always say no."

"Because healing is a waste of time," Innua hissed in response. "Only the pathetic women of the Tribe learn to heal."

"All of the women learn to heal, darling," Kunika countered, her smile pained and measured. She was well used to Innua's temper, but it had only grown far worse as the years went by, and frankly it frightened her. She knew well who her father was, though she had told not a soul.

"Exactly," Innua spat back. "All the women of this Tribe are weak, and pathetic. Why would you teach him? He's a boy, and boy's already get enough." Though she was just twelve, she knew enough of the world, and of the Northern traditions, to understand that privilege that Kanto was offered by being born male, and son of a favoured warrior, where as she the female bastard daughter of a lowly healer. What she did not understand, however, was that Kanto was oppressed in his own right, and that he was just as in need of Kunika's attentions and affections as her daughter was, perhaps even more so. Kanto had looked frightened, his lower lip trembling as he made to leave the house, but Kunika had placed a hand atop his, keeping him where he was sat.

"Innua, Kanto has as much right to learn the art of healing as you do," she replied. "He wants to learn, whereas you do not, it is my duty as a healer and a woman, to teach him all that I can."

Innua had not understood, and she had stormed from the room, but she could not deny her curiosity surrounding Kanto after that day, and she began to spend longer and longer around him, before eventually she hung around with him outside of the home too. Kanto became just about as close to a friend as it was possible for Innua to have, and though she knew that he still feared her, deep down, he still followed her where she asked. This loyalty to her would prove to be invaluable to her as the years went by as, even after she murdered her own mother, Kanto remained at her side. She was never totally sure whether Kanto suspected her or not, if he did he never said anything about it, and even when she moved into the Palace, standing so often at Arnook's side, Kanto was there, watching her back and listening to her thoughts.

Today, as she stalked from the Palace, her hands curled into fists and her mood sour, she found herself alone. It was at her request, of course, neither Hanh, Kaneq or Kanto made a habit of letting her walk completely unattended, but she desired solitude. Chief Arnook, the stupid old fool, had refused to make any decision regarding his successor, despite the question becoming a matter of burning urgency in later years. The Avatar and the Firelord were taking great steps in the Fire and Earth Kingdom, and Arnook's inability to lead on account of the deep depression he seemed to be suffering was leaving them behind. It infuriated her. She had seen first hand the power of the Avatar ... had seen him join with the Ocean Spirit and smite an entire Fire Nation navy, and such a sight had filled her heart with wonder and inspiration. She had always felt an unusual pull to the spirits, a familiarity in her heart that, on a full moon, would plague her. She knew that all the waterbenders felt something under the full moon, their powers greater, but she felt pain. It hurt her, her entire body, like she was being split down the middle, and she could not understand it. Why were the spirits pulling at her, if that's what they were doing? Why did she feel so uncomfortable, deep down, at human contact? She was an attractive woman, she had many suitors, and she had indulged some, but she had never felt the fulfillment that she had been promised at their hands. Something was missing in her life, something huge, and it was that that had lead her to chase the position of Chief. Yet, as time went by, even that had started to feel hollow to her. Most of her anger was aimed at Arnook's pathetic actions, not the additional hardships it placed on her journey to Chieftain. Today had been no exception. The full moon was tonight, and her skin and soul itched in anticipation. It was perhaps the worst kept secret in the entire of the North that the full moon was often a night for passion and indulgence; lovers met and loved, battles were fought and lost, drunks would wander, and the people of the North sought one another out on these nights, but she ached only for solitude. She needed to be alone, so that she could curl up against the pain and stare at the moon. She reasoned that she would feel better tomorrow, once the full moon had passed.

That night, however, as she lay in her bed, fully dressed and unable to sleep, she found that her home was the last place that she could tolerate to be. She lived in the Palace grounds, her own home that Arnook had gifted to her a few years previous, and usually it offered her the privacy that she desired. Tonight, however, the passion of the full moon had brought a pair of lovers to the bridge her home overlooked, and she could hear every damn word on their love-struck lips. She growled, scowling as they plead their love and their loyalties, whispering sweet nothings, until she found she could even heard the sound of their lips meeting, the vulgar wet sound filling her with a rage deeper than she thought possible. She sat up, her hands reaching for her window, ready to scream at them and scare them away, but she fought back. No, she wanted their love and their respect. It would not do her good to be seen this way. Not tonight of all night's. And so, she slipped from her home, throwing a dark glare in the direction of the two lover's as they pressed their lips together, and headed towards the only other place she knew that she could find peace. The Oasis.

When she arrived she was pleased to see that it remained empty. People rarely visited the Oasis, some were not even aware of it's existence, but if they did it was most often on the full moon, brought their by the call of the Moon and Ocean spirits that swum in the pond at it's center. She felt peace here, like being so close to the spirit's offered her a small taste of what it might feel like to be completed, to find what it was inside of her that was missing, and gratefully she sat down on the grass in front of the pond, watching the spirit's continue their dance beside one another, ying and yang, perfectly balanced, perfectly ... complete.

"How can I find what you have?" she breathed. "You know who are you, your purpose ... there is no part of your souls that are missing." The spirit's continued to swim, paying her no heed. A frown came to her face as she propped her face up with her hand, rested on her knee.

"A don't tell me it's love, or something as ridiculous as that," she growled. "Though I suppose that's all you have, right? Each other?"

She leaned back on her hands, looking up at the sky now, the moon shining directly above them, the silver light filling the Oasis and reflecting perfectly across the round pond at the center.

"So, if not that, what is it that's missing? Why do I continue to feel so unfulfilled?"

"It is because a part of you has remained a mystery to you," came a voice from behind of her, and she started, her bending instincts hitting hard and fast as she was on her feet and pulling a whip of water from the pool in a matter of seconds, her face set and intimidating as she glared at the man who had snuck up on her, before her eyes widened, a gasp escaping her lips. It was not a man, after all, not strictly. He was tall, his skin as dark as her own, dressed in a long black cloak that pooled at his feet, almost ethereal in appearance. Upon his bare arms dark red scratches like scars crossed across them, upon his bald head a series of tattoos that she did not recognize, and below them two bright red eyes appraised her. But what took her focus, more than anything, was his smile. Soft, paternal ... comforting. She felt at ease in spite of herself, the water dropping back into the pool as she stood herself straight, looking back at him.

"Who are you?" she asked. "And what do you know about me?"

It was the obvious question, she thought, and she found she had far more interest in the answer to the second than she did the first. The spirit, if that is what he was, seemed to take a deep breath, his eyes drinking her in from head to toe. It would have been uncomfortable, she thought, if any man were to eye her so completely like that, but somehow his gaze felt different. It didn't feel like he was looking at her like a man would a woman, but like someone would enjoy a painting that they had just completed.

"My name is Tonrar," the spirit replied. Her eyebrows rose a fraction at this. She had heard stories of this spirit, stories from long ago, back when he had been a spirit that ventured into their world at times. There were horror stories surrounding him, stories of kidnapping, of manipulation, and she had always learned of him as a spirit to be feared in the North. But she felt she did fear him at all.

"And I know a great deal about you," he continued, his smile only widening.

"Why?" Innua asked. "Why would you possibly want to know anything about me?"

"Because you are mine," Tonrar replied simply. She should have shivered, she should have run, she certainly should not have approached any spirit that spoke in this way, but approach him she did, taking two small steps closer.

"What do you mean?"

"First, I have a question for you," he interrupted. "Why did you kill your mother?" There was, should she allow herself to hear it, a hint of sadness in his voice at this, but she immediately felt the urge to protect herself. No one knew of what had really happened to Kunika, no one had even thought to guess, no one until this spirit. Her nostrils flared, and her hands rose protectively again, ready to bend the water from the pool in a moment's notice.

"I did no such thing," she hissed, her cerulean eyes glaring into his. Tonrar's smile faded.

"I'd rather you didn't lie to me, Innua," he said softly. "You killed her, that is fact. Now, tell me why. Your mother was beautiful, and she was kind, was she not? Why would you take her life?"

For a moment, she did not know how to respond. She had never said it, now out loud. Her mouth had never formed the words, and yet she felt herself compelled to. To admit her deepest, darkest secret in front of a spirit that she had just met.

"Yes, I killed her," she said, at last, and she noted how her voice didn't falter, and the relief that spread through her body at finally admitting it to someone. "I killed her because she was holding me back."

Tonrar smiled then, a grin breaking through the sadness that touched at the corners, and it was a smile full of pride.

"So, you are not afraid then? To make the hard choices? To do the impossible tasks?"

"I have never been afraid," she whispered back to him, the Oasis so quiet that her voice still carried over to him. "I will never be afraid."

"Good girl," Tonrar replied. She swallowed, in her heart she felt that somehow she should know who this spirit was, why he seemed to enraptured by her, but the truth was still out of her reach, slipping from her fingertips each time they made contact.

"Now, answer my question," she said. "You said I am yours. What do you mean by this, spirit?"

The spirit seemed to hesitate for the first time, a shadow of doubt seeming to flicker in his eyes, before he took a defiant step towards her, his hands reaching out, touching her cheek. They were cold, she realised, so very cold, but somehow that didn't seem to matter, as she felt her heart swell at the touch and a warmth fill her heart. It was like what she felt when she looked at the spirit's, only far greater, and unbidden tears fell from her eyes, cascading down her cheeks and onto his hand as he only smiled wider.

"You are my daughter," he said. "And the North is not enough for you. There has never been a single creature in this world, or the other, that could hope to be half as powerful as you. You will be the beautiful queen of this world, as I rule the other."

Her tears had continue to fall, and it had all made sense. All of it, every single part. She did not doubt that the spirit was her father, she did not doubt the words he spoke, and from that point her entire world had changed forever.

However, there one time came a full moon where her father did not visit her. She knew well of what was going on between Tonrar and the Avatar, for he had told her. Despite witnessing first hand the Avatar's abilities, she had never for a moment doubted that Tonrar would be more powerful, that he would defeat the Avatar, that he would take this world for his own. That he would open a portal between this world and Tonrar's, and that together they would rule it. It had not occurred to her until that night that he did not come, and she had sat by the pond, watching the koi swim in unison, and incredible pain in her chest.

But now, as she sat on the cold hard rock in the Spirit World, watching her father pace as her useless arm hung limp at her side, she felt doubt. She felt so much of it. He had wanted her to be queen, yet here she sat, injured, ignored, as he focused all of his energy on a glowing tree. It hurt her, if she had not already cried so much after the past few weeks, months, however long it had been, she was sure that she would be sobbing now, begging for her father to look at her. Begging him to make her feel complete again, to promise her the world ... but he did nothing.

Eventually, the hours passing as they always did, Innua found that she had the strength and no longer the patience to wait on him, to wait for him to notice her. She needed answers.

"Father," she called, hesitantly, her voice small. Tonrar had heard her, that she knew. His body seemed to stiffen, his shoulders angled sharply as he seemed to resolve not to acknowledge her.

"Father," she repeated. "Please, talk to me."

"Do not call me that," Tonrar replied shortly, not turning to look at her. She winced, her heart shattering, and not for the first time she was afraid.

"But, that is who you are," she said, her voicing shaking yet determined. "Once you were proud of that. You were proud of me. Are you not still proud? Have ... did I do something wrong?"

It was too much to ask at once, she knew that, but she found once she started speaking she could not stop, her heart hammering in the region of her throat, sweat beginning to drop down her temple. At first, Tonrar did not respond, his back still to her until, achingly, wonderfully, he looked at her. Her breath caught in her throat and she dared to hope, his expression not angry, not disappointed, but sad. She saw his gaze drop to her arm, and she finally understood the real reason behind his despair, why he would not look at her. She shook her head, eyes wide and pleading.

"No," she all but whimpered, reaching as if to cover her arm, "please, I know that it might appear that this weakens me but ... it doesn't! I am still strong! I can still fight!"

This, more than anything, seemed to finally break Tonrar's resolve, and he blinked rapidly, as if fighting back an emotion that he was not familiar with. He finally walked towards her, stopping just a few feet from her, his red eyes meeting her blue ones.

"I have never told you the circumstances surrounding your birth," he said, quietly. She blinked, confused, desperate.

"No."

"Have you never wondered?"

She breathed in sharply. In truth, she had not wondered, she had not even questioned. He was an all powerful spirit, and though her mother was weak she had also been quite beautiful, why would he not have taken what he wanted from her? From any human? The truth, she had realised long ago, was not important. It did not change how she had felt about her mother, and it certainly had not changed how she felt about her father. And so, she shook her head, being as honest with him as she could. He seemed surprised at this, his brow narrowing just a fraction.

"I met your mother over twenty years ago," he said. "The Avatar had been gone for almost one hundred years, and it had been even longer still since I had last stepped foot in the mortal world, it seemed as though it was finally safe for me to cross over, to spend the Solstice in the North as I had often done many thousands of years back."

Innua said nothing, staying where she sat, her eyes anxiously darting between each of his.

"The world was a very different place from when I had last visited," Tonrar continued, "and I, a very different spirit. You see, the more souls I consumed, the more spirit's I punished, and the longer I spent with just them for company, the more emotions I began to feel. I came into the world then as a spirit capable of so much more than I had once been. More human perhaps, than I had once been."

"I don't understand," Innua interrupted in a quiet voice, now feeling dubious. This did not sound like the all powerful spirit she had become to believe her father to be. This sounded almost like Avatar stuff.

"You will," Tonrar assured, remaining where he stood. "When I arrived in the Oasis, when I walked among the people of the North, I learned more of the war that had consumed the entire world for the better part of one hundred years. I learned, too, of the genocide of the airbenders, something that I freely admit shocked me. The human's had feared the spirit's for so long, and yet it had been themselves that had proved their greatest fall ... the spirit's had no part to play in that war."

He took a deep breath, as he began his story.

"I met your mother soon after I crossed into your world ..."

A/N: Sorry to cut it here, folks, but this was turning into a long ass chapter. I can't wait to finally share this tale with you all. The next update will be soon.