Chapter 49 – A Fight


Hikoshu was going to be sick. Groaning, he fell to one knee and grabbed his stomach. His stomach that shouldn't even exist in this world, he thought wildly, but it did nothing to staunch the agony that seared through his abdomen.

"What's happening?" he gasped, and Koh's black body moved in front of him.

"You are dying, Avatar." It was apathetic, unimpressed by his throes.

"But – our deal!"

"Don't worry. I will keep to our agreement." The disembodied voice rumbled somewhere above him, and he felt his vision fading for a second time. So much pain, traveling through his chest and into his mind. With a cry, he fell completely to the floor, his hands groping at the dusty stone.

"Make it stop!" He moaned as he curled into himself. It was a hundred – a thousand times worse than anything Natquik had inflicted on him. "It hurts!"

"I could make it stop," Koh said casually. "But then you would be reborn. And that was not part of our agreement."

"I don't care. Just let me die! Whatever to make it—" he cut off as he screamed, his back arching. It felt as if his muscles were being ripped off his bones. Overwhelmed, his mind went white, unable to feel anything but fire.

As his cries reduced themselves briefly to whimpers, Koh hovered close, its red lips near his ear. "You should see your face," the spirit whispered, its eyes half-shut in bliss. "Such exquisite agony. Such beautiful anguish."

It then pulled away, its voice once more matter-of-fact. "A new body calls for your spirit, Avatar, but you will not leave here. Promises to me are always binding."

Undulating, it seemed to dance to his screams.

xXxXxxxXXxxxXxXx

Exhausted, Miyo moved without seeing. Constantly on her heel, twisting out of a blast, feeling her hair scorch when one came too close. And wherever a bout of flame would erupt, she would turn there and throw a gust of wind.

Kinu was no longer behind her. The only way she knew that he lived was an occasional stream of water that would crush a Sage against a wall or stab past her. At one point, a Sage she was defending against kicked up an arc of flame. But then a thin slice of water came from the side, and in the next instant, he was on the ground, clutching a bleeding stump of a knee.

That was the only moment that she hesitated – when an innocent Sage permanently lost his leg. It almost cost her, and she had to leap upward to avoid the wave of flames. Then she came down on the other side of the three remaining firebenders, and Kinu was lost in a blaze behind them.

Unrelenting in their aggression, they followed her down the hall. Blocked in so tightly by the walls, she could only dodge their attacks and occasionally land a well-placed blow of air. Yet whichever man was thrown simply picked himself up and rejoined his fellow Sages a moment later. It was a constant attack that would not end until someone was hurt or killed.

Under their assault, she was pushed to the end of the hall, the heavy wood doors of an adjacent hall right behind her. Desperate, she glanced back at the doors, then bended herself into the air, flipping over the Sages to land behind them. In response, they turned to follow her, but she'd already found her feet. Bending a shield to block one lucky fireball, Miyo then threw all of her weight against the air, forcing it forward as if it were one, solid mass.

The three Sages flew back into the other hall, and the large doors, caught in the gust, slammed shut as well. From the other side, she could hear them shouting. But none of them had the strength to move the apparently ancient doors. Weary yet confident, she turned back to the acolytes' rooms.

There were at least five red-robed bodies littering the hallway, though she couldn't tell if they were dead or unconscious. Past them, the blue of Kinu's arms flashed intermittently between the two Sages who still fought him, the ceiling bursting into light with the flames they threw. Despite his age, he was quicker and stronger than the two men his junior, and the small amount of water that should have long ago evaporated still whipped with his hands.

In his preoccupation with the firbenders, Kinu couldn't see the arrival of more Sages from the stairwell behind him. Stunned, Miyo began to raise a shout of warning, even as she started to dash to his aid. Just then, though, the doors behind her exploded, the force of it enough to knock her off her feet.

When she rolled back to a stand, wincing but uninjured, Miyo saw that the doors had literally been ripped off their hinges, the broken wood still burning from the attack. Past the fire and smoke, at least a dozen firebenders were scrambling into the hall, a mixture of red and white as acolytes joined with the original Sages to push their way in.

Miyo was staggered. Four Sages had been too much for her; twelve firebenders would be a veritable slaughter. But she knew that while she lived, they wouldn't get past her.

Lifting her hands, she prepared to fight.

xXxXxxxXXxxxXxXx

"Sahani, shut the door!" Natquik shouted over the din. Unsteady on her feet, the girl obliged reluctantly, sagging against the wood. Already, though, his attention was back on Hikoshu. If anyone came through that door, Natquik knew he'd have to give up on him to protect the two women.

Or at least one of them. Throwing a bitter glance to Yan-lin, he saw that she had finally overcome her aversion to looking at Hikoshu, and now she studied him mournfully. Yan-lin confused Natquik deeply, and not in a wondrous way. Everything she had done seemed to be to Hikoshu's detriment, yet she still had the gall to look regretful, her hand resting gently on his shoulder.

Forcing himself to focus, Natquik tiredly bended at his heart, using internal water to keep it beating. It was hopeless – completely pointless, as nothing happened that had any spark of life to it. Still, he ordered Yan-lin to breathe for Hikoshu. She deserved to go through this, too. She deserved to fight for the man she'd put here.

Somewhere outside, another scream erupted, and as before, his blood went cold. If Miyo and Kinu were dead…

With one last glare at Yan-lin, Natquik continued bending.

xXxXxxxXXxxxXxXx

It wouldn't stop. The flesh and muscles had been pulled away, and now Hikoshu felt himself being eviscerated. Torn apart on the inside, caught in some sort of limbo that sliced him open slowly.

And over it all, Koh's delighted chuckle.

"Your friends are trying to save you. I can see you're feeling their efforts, which I'm sure you've come to appreciate."

All he had was pain.

xXxXxxxXXxxxXxXx

"Come on, Hikoshu!" The command fell on deaf ears, but Natquik had to shout anyway. So much frustration, so much anger. So much power, and he couldn't do a thing with it. "Just breathe!" Yan-lin thought it was an order for her, and she pressed her mouth against Hikoshu's once more.

He needed that breath to become chi. Even the tiniest bit could bring Hikoshu back. But Natquik's water was running low, and he wasn't even sure how he could force chi into existence. Limitations, though, had been in ample supply for weeks.

He couldn't just keep bending Hikoshu's heart, that was for sure. There had to be something else. Perhaps he could examine the lungs – go to the very source and search there for what he was missing. But could he bend two separate organs at the same time? He was struggling as it was. And if he dropped the heart beat…

What choice did he have, though?

In desperation, Natquik spat in one hand and stuck it to the right side of Hikoshu's bared rib cage. It was a paltry substitution for water, but he concentrated, and slowly, his control wended its way through Hikoshu's body. The lungs lumbered with every one of Yan-lin's breaths, barely filling at all.

In his lapse of attention, Natquik almost lost control of Hikoshu's heart, and he had to pause his search of the lungs in order to resume the rhythm. As soon as he recovered it, he glanced up at Yan-lin.

"Breathe again." This time, though, when she breathed for him, Natquik explored Hikoshu's lungs, searching the places where air touched blood. Where it became something far more spiritual.

And there, dim but tangible, was a small spark.

Natquik used everything at that point, bending sweat off his forehead as well as the remaining spit in his mouth – whatever he had. Using the poor conductor, he commanded Yan-lin to breathe continuously with only pauses between to let Hikoshu exhale. Though winded, she obeyed, and he found that spark one last time. It was hardly anything – a tiny surge of energy that seemed like little more than a flash of light between two rubbed furs. But Natquik recognized its silvery feel, as well as its inhuman substance.

It was Hikoshu, hidden somewhere between this world and another.

Drawing on as much water in Hikoshu as he could, Natquik tried to bring that spark out. It didn't work at first, always just barely beyond his touch. But Natquik knew he had it. There was some life in him, small though it was, and Natquik had the ability to reach it. Closing his eyes, he put all of his strength into catching that spark.

Somewhere outside of his burdened concentration, he heard wood snapping and Sahani's screams. Natquik didn't notice, though. Finally, with his coaxing, the spark flared to life, and chi surged out under his touch. Immediately, the heart took up its own rhythm, and the lungs shuddered with effort.

With a happy shout that was cut short too quickly, Natquik fell back. For the moment, at least, Hikoshu was alive.

xXxXxxxXXxxxXxXx

The pain abated in the bottom of his chest. Hikoshu didn't notice the small relief at first, but eventually, he realized that it was the only part of him not hurting. So he focused on that – focused every bit of his will on that spot, as if he could hide his sanity inside it.

With more focus, that small spot grew larger. Laughing in relief even as he fought back screams, Hikoshu threw everything into his chest, where the agony lessened the more he concentrated. Almost like meditation, he let his mind go blank. Nothing but his chest, where there was warmth and comfort.

"Hikoshu!" something shouted, though he wasn't sure if it was in his head or in Koh's lair. It didn't matter; he was not going to be distracted from his meditation. Blocking out the voice, he squeezed his eyes shut and prayed.

It first radiated out from his lungs, and then it exploded – the pain was washed away in mere seconds, gone as if it had never been there. Sobbing, Hikoshu released his stomach and dropped his head back to the stone floor. Somewhere, still out of sight, that voice was calling his name, but he ignored it. All he could do was revel in the moment, his mind drowning in the sweet respite.

"Congratulations, Avatar. Your friends have saved your life," Koh said in the darkness, having retired to the shadows once more.

"How…how do I get out of here?" Hikoshu gasped, trying to regain control of his emotions. It was over, and that was all that mattered. "How do I go home?"

"That, my dear friend, is something you must figure out on your own." Its voice was growing hollow, as if it were moving further into the cave's depths. "You might start by answering the calls of your past life. Remember our agreement, Avatar."

Hikoshu knew he was alone, even though it was too dark to see. Savoring the moment, he allowed himself to linger on the floor before he got up. The voice was still shouting, somewhere beyond his sight, and he thought that if he should climb out of the tree, he would find the source. Weakly, but with recovering strength, he made his way up the stairs.

When he emerged from the cave, Hikoshu blinked sorely at the amorphous light, feeling as though he'd been lost in the dark for centuries. Even in its muted form, the foggy world seemed more alive, more palpable, after so long in Koh's lair.

Breathing deeply, he turned back toward the craggy tree – and jumped as someone stood there, leaning against the shriveled bark.

"You've been very foolish, Hikoshu," Sidhari said, her dusky face visible between the loose cloth wraps around her head. Her similarly wrapped arms folded under her breasts, she looked both irritated and unhappy – the first time he hadn't seen her smile. "Very foolish indeed."

"I did what I thought I needed to do." Hikoshu fought back a scowl, though she obviously knew everything he was feeling. "I didn't have much guidance, Mistress Sidhari."

"No guidance?" She straightened and strolled toward him, moving awkwardly across the rock. Used to her natural world of sand, she seemed unbalanced by the hard surface. "You're the Avatar, Hikoshu. You can look to yourself for guidance."

"Just like you did?" That made her hesitate, her unusually green eyes flashing in ire. "It seems ridiculous you would lecture me on 'bad choices,' Mistress Sidhari, seeing as I'm suffering for your mistakes."

Her mouth tightened. "I lived my life, and I learned from my mistakes."

"Yeah, well, so did the rest of the world." Hikoshu knew he was being disrespectful, but he just didn't care. After all that had happened – after all he'd been through – how could she stand there and chastise him? "They learned to hate me. They hate everything I represent. So what would you expect? I should choose to die, be reborn into yet another generation that will hate me just as much, and give up on the few people I love?"

"It's the natural order, Hikoshu." Her eyes were strained and her jaw tensed, as if she was also struggling against an outburst. "That is what we are supposed to do."

"Forgive me if, for once, I would just like something different."

Sidhari sighed as she folded her arms again, her hands caressing the white cloth bindings along her biceps. "You don't know what you've done by striking a deal with Koh. You don't even know who Koh is."

"I know that he helped me when I couldn't rely on you."

"Your link to your past lives was destroyed," she said patiently, though he already understood this. "I couldn't communicate with you until now."

"Meaning that my spiritual connection as Avatar has returned," Hikoshu finished, and she pursed her lips as if she believed he'd missed the point.

"But what have you traded for it?"

He stared at her, then rubbed his cheek tiredly. Ridiculous conversation. He was, in essence, arguing with himself about what he'd done, and just like any other internal debate, dwelling on it wouldn't change anything. "Well, right now, I have to get back. How do I do that?"

She shrugged unhelpfully as she bended a seat from the stone, her gaze sweeping over the mist behind him. "I suppose since you brought yourself here, you'll take yourself out."

"But how? I don't even know where I'm at." He considered the tree behind her. Though it still loomed over him in somber warning, it didn't look so foreboding now. He'd faced the worst it had to offer, and now its strangely draped roots scraped out noises of regret. "Will I wake up the moment that I died? Will I come back in the Fire Temple?"

Again, Sidhari shrugged from her perch, her chin propped in her hand. "This is uncharted territory, Hikoshu. I don't know what lies in store for you. But I know one thing." Her green eyes were piercing. "You were gravely injured in the Temple. Had you lived, and had you been whole, you would have certainly entered the Avatar State."

"You think…?" Would he enter it upon returning? Sidhari didn't answer his unfinished question, but her silence said enough. "Wait. How did you bend?"

"Good-bye, Hikoshu."

Then he was moving, even as he stood perfectly still. Sidhari retreated quickly with the tree, both swallowed into the mists, then disappearing into clouds.

In moments, the Spirit World was gone.