Only midway through he finds out the ship he got in is not going to Braavos. "Port of Ibben, lad," one of the crew members tells him. "With a stop on Pentos."
As he has no idea what Port of Ibben has in store for him—whether it's a useful place or not—he decides to stop at Pentos. The Martells gave him enough coin to travel across all the Free Cities (according to Prince Oberyn, at least), so it can't hurt to begin his search in Pentos instead of Braavos. Who knows, perhaps he gets lucky.
Entirely alone, he has little to do but reflect on his next steps, an action that mostly serves to reinforce his loneliness. He always had Jaime to guide him on where to go, ever since they left the Wall, and Ygritte to discuss possible disguises and plans of action. Then, for the last couple moons, he had Lady Brienne as his sworn sword and extra guidance. Now he just feels lost…
No, Jon, you can't let this situation wear you down, he scolds himself. Ygritte and Jaime were right; I must learn to do things on my own if I'm to truly become the Avatar. And the Martells did give me advice: find my half-brother Aegon. Surely someone must know about him, if he has traveled around the Free Cities.
The discovery that he has a half-brother still alive is something he has trouble coming to terms with. For all of his life, he has accepted he was an only child: his mother's first and last baby, and his father's only surviving kid. That Aegon, heir to the Iron Throne, survived the sack that killed his mother and sister… He's happy to know he and Maester Aemon are not the last Targaryens, but he worries about how his blood relation to Aegon may impact on his role as Avatar.
Regardless of bloodlines, Jon is supposed to be a neutral party in political affairs, only taking charge if a ruler is somehow disrupting balance and peace. Although this notion seems vague and open to wide interpretation, Jon is inclined to believe he must not openly support his half-brother on his quest for the throne. However, if he seeks him, Aegon may demand said open support—he will deny it, of course, but such a denial might lead to disaster. Perhaps it is better if we don't meet until we pursue our goals… although, this way, we may never meet. Aegon's risk of dying in his pursuit for the throne is very much real, as is mine of dying fighting against the Others. Hells, I almost died several times while trying to master the elements!
The last thought brings another matter to light: how to look for Aegon, if he so wishes, or for bending teachers? He cannot spread to everyone he meets he's the Avatar, not when word of his presence could easily reach the other side of the Narrow Sea. If I go looking for Aegon, I can simply claim to be a Targaryen bastard looking for my family, he guesses. I can claim to be from the crownlands; nobody will bat an eye at that, I suppose. As he tries and fails to come up with an excuse to seek bending teachers without revealing himself, he decides to indeed look for his half-brother. If he is the man the Martells painted him to be, surely he'll understand my refusal to be his political ally. If I manage to explain about the danger of the Others, he may help me find teachers and grant me protection from persecutors.
Well, anything can happen, and the best way to find out is to find his half-brother. So Jon settles on that. Prince Doran said I can go to his wife in Norvos if I fail to find Aegon. She must have useful contacts as well. I must have hope.
Despite the obvious differences, Pentos reminds Jon of Dorne for its coloring. Well, the buildings' coloring, at least, for its people seem to enjoy dying their hair and beard in blue, green, purple, pink…
As he leaves the ship, Jon looks for who might be an informant on the city affairs. There are sellers everywhere, as well as buyers, but he can't tell whether those people are Pentoshi or not. When he finds stalls, though, he concludes those working there must be natives, so he marches to them.
"Good afternoon," he greets the man working in a fish-selling stall with no waiting lines. "Do you speak—"
"Westerosi?", The man asks, then answers his own question, "Yes, I do. What do you want, boy?"
"I'm looking for Aegon Targaryen. I'm—"
The man promptly shakes his head. "Got nothin' on that, boy. Targaryens are nobles from Westeros, right?" He nods. "You might find somethin' with Illyrio Mopatis. He's the go-to man about those things."
"Where can I find him?"
The man gives him directions, for which Jon thanks him before making his way out.
Illyrio Mopatis' servant seems to immediately understand when he asks for Aegon Targaryen, which gives him hope. However, when he is taken to the man himself, he deflates at what he sees: an old man with a long beard and dark circles under his eyes, fat and with a posture that screams exhaustion.
"May I ask," he begins, raising his head slowly to look at him, "why are you looking for Aegon?"
"I'm a Targaryen bastard," he replies. "I wish to meet my family."
The old man sighs. "Your family is Daenerys Targaryen, boy. My Aegon is a Blackfyre."
Wait, what?
"My lord," he insists, "this information came from reliable sources—"
"Who are still unaware of this turn of events," Mopatis cuts him off. "Truth is, I essentially sold my son to his uncle Varys when he told me of the real Aegon's death. He promised me he'd be King of Westeros when his time came, and he'd care to raise him to be the best ruler possible, one history would remember fondly. Why would I not want such a delightful fate for my own flesh and blood?
"When Aegon bent lightning for the first time—you know Blackfyres are lightningbenders, right?" Jon nods. "When he showed his abilities, I had his chi blocked. Better to have him untrained than have his identity revealed. For years, it worked fine. The boy questioned, but not much, and grew up to be a fair and just young man.
"But then… well, we don't know what happened, but something unblocked his chi, and he released lightning from his fingertips. I had to tell him—and his allies—the truth. You know what he said? That I was no father of his. And then he left to pursue whatever destiny he wants now." A sigh. "I thought I was going to be the father of a king, but now I have no son at all."
Jon shifts his weight from one foot to another, unsure of what to say. "I'm sure he's still alive—"
Mopatis cuts him off again. "It doesn't matter. Aegon told me in my face he'd never call me father, and he is right to do so. I gave him up in my quest for power; I do not deserve to call him mine." He shakes his head. "But you are not here to hear my sorrows, I'm afraid. Last I heard, Daenerys Targaryen was seen in Myr. There are rumours of the rebirth of dragons, which I don't believe in, but her location seems plausible. You can spend the night here and head there in the morning, if you wish."
"I do," he replies, caught in surprise. "Thank you for your hospitality. I hope… I hope you and your son can reconcile someday."
"You are more hopeful than I, then."
As it isn't even night yet, and he has a destination in mind for tomorrow, Jon decides to meditate. It's been a while since he's last done it, and he thinks he can practice some light waterbending in Mopatis' garden.
However, when he sits down before a tree, he gets distracted by a spot of red—could it be lava?—and his meditation verges into firebending instead as he remembers Master Aemon's breathing techniques. He closes his eyes and focuses on the fire running through his limbs…
And he hears a voice singing.
"I was left to my own devices
Many days fell away with nothing to show"
He's never heard that one before—which is saying something, given the amount of different songs he heard through his life, especially in the Eyrie, in which the singer brought to life lyrics and melodies from all over Westeros.
"And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love
Grey clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above"
Neither does he recognize the voice singing it. It's male, and its accent is not Westerosi, but it doesn't remind him of any foreigner he's met—not Mopatis, not his servant, not the seller who helped him, or anyone from the ship he traveled in. It's someone else entirely.
"But if you close your eyes
Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?
And if you close your eyes
Does it almost feel like you've been here before?"
Contrary to what the lyrics instruct, he opens his eyes to find himself… not in Mopatis' garden anymore. Instead, he's standing between two sets of stairs in a small round tower. The voice seems to come from above, so, despite not having a single idea of what is going on, he goes up.
"How am I gonna be an optimist about this?
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?"
As the last words are sung, he catches sight of an old man, with silver hair and long silvery beard. He stares ahead at a half-destroyed window with a wistful look in his violet eyes, and his is the voice who perked Jon's attention.
"We were caught up and lost in all of our vices
In your pose as the dust settles around us.."
Unsure of what to do, Jon takes a few steps closer, until the man turns to him. He smiles. "Jon Frost," he calls solemnly. "I've been expecting you." Jon blinks, but the man turns his entire body to him. "Come with me, there is still up to go."
Shocked to silence, he sees no other way but to follow this man with Valyrian-like features. Where is he from? Where am I? He's had dreams about odd places, before, but he was meditating, not sleeping.
After a few more steps, they reach the top of the topless tower. "Look," the man instructs, and Jon follows. He's greeted by visions of countless others topless towers, in varied states of conservation—some standing tall, proud and intact, others with several holes, a few others only precariously standing. Volcanoes can be seen in the horizon. When he looks down, he sees small castles, big houses, dusty statues and roads covered in lava and debris.
"What is this place?", he asks in awe.
"Old Valyria," the man replies. "My home."
He turns to the elder. "Who are you?"
He smiles sadly. "I'm you, Avatar." He looks to the horizon. "Roku Targaryen. The last firebender Avatar before you."
Jon doesn't know what exactly made him nearly trip on air: that he's talking to a previous Avatar, that he calls himself a Targaryen, or—
"What do you mean, you're me?"
Roku sighs. "It seems that most of everything that could be useful to you has been lost over the centuries. All places which held the most important manuscripts were destroyed, one by one, the last being my beloved home. Have you ever heard the song I was singing?" Jon shakes his head. "A pity. From what I've gathered, it was pretty popular at the time of Aegon's Conquest, but it may have gotten lost over time. Everything is forgotten eventually, I suppose."
"Is it about the Doom?" Roku nods. "But you died before the Doom, didn't you?"
"Here in the Spirit World, you can have access to some things from the living world," he explains matter-of-factly. "Few people alive come here, though. You're our first visitor in quite some years." He scratches his beard. "When I say I'm you, it is because all Avatars are interconnected. In a way, we're all one and the same. Have you heard of the Avatar State, or has this knowledge been lost as well?"
"I know about it… superficially," he admits. "I've achieved it once, in a situation of danger, and then the Martells told me it usually requires a mastery of all elements to reach it."
"Martells… oh!", he exclaims. "Nymeria's people. Sandbenders… Well, they are right, but so is your experience. Anyway, when you reach the Avatar State—when you are in control of it—all of us, all the Avatars before you, we all touch your mind and soul to give you the most power you can get."
Jon nods to signal he understood. "Am I here so you can teach me?"
"Oh, no," he replies. "You cannot learn anything concrete here. We're all spirits. Your body is resting under that tree. I've summoned you here because you need to know more about the dangers you are going to face." He looks up and runs a hand through his beard. "I was the last Avatar to live and die in peace. I rarely had to leave Valyria, except to settle a minor dispute here and there. I made some contributions to my people, but nothing much outside these lands. I passed away in my wife's arms due to old age. The others were not so lucky."
"The others…?"
"Right after I died, Aang was born in Mossovy. He died at the age of twelve, and his death was followed by Korra's birth in Skane. She died days before her twentieth nameday, and then Kyoshi was born in Yeen. She nearly saw the age of thirty, but… well. Now there is you."
He frowns. "Why is there such a huge gap, if all the other Avatars' births happened immediately after the other's death?"
He wrinkles his nose. "This question will be better answered by Kyoshi herself. I'm afraid you must go back to your body now, Avatar. I am finally able to reach you now that you're out of Westeros, so we and the others will certainly find you more often. Keep meditating."
Before Jon can ask anything else, he feels a pull, and suddenly, he's back in the gardens.
Mopatis doesn't say a word during supper, and neither does Jon. He's too lost in thought to engage in conversation.
He just saw a past Avatar and spoke to him. Not only that, he made it to the Spirit World—a realm he had only heard of once or twice, and not even Maester Aemon believed in its existence—and saw the ruins of Old Valyria. And, to add more to the wonder, this Avatar was his ancestor.
(Okay, perhaps Roku Targaryen died without issue, and Jon descends from a brother, sister or even cousin. Still, they belong in the same family, if not in name then in blood.)
He has no idea how he ended up there, though. Roku said to have summoned him and implied he was only able to do so after Jon left Westeros. Is it because Roku was an Essosi? But if that's the case, why didn't… what's the name again—Korra contact him? Skane is an island in Westeros, near Skagos if he recalls correctly.
His mind wanders to the dreams he used to have before arriving in the Eyrie. The scenery from Old Valyria is vaguely familiar, although his dreams never featured ruins. He remembers being a man, a happy one, and flying. Roku did not state to have been a dragon rider, but if he was a Targaryen, it'd make sense if he was.
He has memories of dreaming of four people indeed, two men and two women. Roku and Aang must have been the male Avatars he saw, while Korra and Kyoshi the female ones—and the ones who likely suffered the most, as he remembers his dreams of them as being the darkest ones, metaphorically and literally speaking.
When he retires to his assigned chambers, he sits down on the floor and recalls the meditation techniques Lord Royce taught him. According to the Avatar Cycle he learned, Aang must have been an airbender, and, if he wants to learn what happened to his predecessors, it's better if he goes through them in chronological order. He doesn't really know what to do besides meditating, but hey, it was Roku who summoned him, not the other way around. Perhaps he just needs to make himself available, and Aang will summon him.
He hears another song.
"Night and the spirit of life calling, 'Mamela'
And a voice with the fear of a child asking, 'Mamela'"
He opens his eyes to find himself sitting with his legs crossed on a cold hard floor. Ahead of him there is only sky, similarly to the sky cells in the Eyrie. However, he's far from the precipice, and, as he stands up and looks around, it's clear this isn't a cell.
"Wait, there's no mountain too great
Hear these words and have faith"
The voice comes from behind a huge statue of a bald woman with an arrow carven on her forehead. He circles it and finds a bald boy sitting down with his legs crossed and eyes closed.
"They live in you, they live in me
They're watching over everything we see"
Before drawing attention to himself, he takes a good look at the boy. He has a blue arrow tattooed on his forehead, in the same style of the statue shadowing them both. He wears yellow and orange robes, and lying before him is a wooden staff.
"In every creature, in every star
In your reflection, they live in you"
He clears his throat, and the boy opens his eyes. "Oh," he says with a smile. "You must be Jon. Nice to finally meet you!"
He stands up and uses airbending to grab his staff from the floor. "I take you are… Aang?"
"The very one," he replies excitedly. "Roku spoke to you already, right?"
"Yes, earlier today, after I did some firebending meditation. I figured… if I focused on airbending meditation exercises, I'd be drawn to you."
"I see." He walks out of the statue's shadow, and Jon follows him back to where he 'woke up'. "And what do you want me for?"
Jon had all these questions about his story and why he died so young, but then, as in an epiphany, he decides to say something else. "My friends told me I need to learn to grow up on my own if I want to be the Avatar and the world's savior."
Aang's smile falls, but he doesn't look sad, just pensative. "It's good advice," he says eventually, "when you're an ordinary human. Which isn't what we are, truth be told."
He doesn't like that sentence. "Why, just because we're the Avatar?"
"There is no 'just' about being the Avatar," he spats, looking slightly irritated. Then he composes himself. "I've only lived twelve years in the world, but I faced enough troubles to be able to counsel you on that. The Avatar is already a lonely job, Jon. Nobody can fully understand what we go through, what we experience—even those who love us. No matter how many people you surround yourself with, the most important journeys are faced alone. The Avatar State is a lonely one, even when you are aided by past Avatars. And… well. Death is also a path traveled alone."
That last sentence confuses him, not because it's hard to understand—it's fairly obvious, come to think it—but due to its randomness. "Why are you talking about death? It's the end of the journey, so I don't see why it's useful."
"It isn't the end of the journey at all," Aang replies. "Not for you, and even less for the world. Look me in the eyes, and I'll show you."
He obeys, and suddenly the boy's eyes are glowing white. He has to blink facing such a powerful light, and then he's no longer in whatever he was previously.
He's just stopped running, and is now standing before a huge golden staircase leading to a tall and large castle—the Empress' Palace, some part of his—Aang's—mind supplies. Beside him, there are two girls and a boy. One girl is shorter than him, black-haired and pale-eyed—likely blind, like Maester Aemon. The other girl and the boy look alike enough for him to guess they are siblings, and Aang's mind confirms it.
"Katara, Sokka, Toph," Aang calls. Somehow Jon is aware his predecessor is not speaking to them in Common Tongue, but he understands his next words all the same. "You must hold these soldiers back. Bloodstone is already inside, and I can't fight him if I have to defend myself against his minions."
The three of them nod. As they turn to the lousy crowd behind him, he uses airbending to propel himself up. None of them bid goodbye to one another, for it'd be too painful to acknowledge the very real possibility they don't survive this battle.
When he reaches the throne room, a man and a woman are already fighting. The man uses firebending, while the woman airbends. Aang throws himself between them, and suddenly it's two against one.
The fight itself is a blur. Things only become clear when Aang is lying down, feeling himself burn from head to toe. The Empress kneels before him, which proves to be a fatal move as Bloodstone fires at her, catching her unawares.
He doesn't stay conscious for long enough to find out whether she survives or not.
Jon feels a pull, and suddenly he's back to the place he met Aang. The boy is looking at him intently. "I died with someone worrying over me," he says quietly. "It didn't make the journey any less lonely. But did you notice? The story wasn't over when I died."
"What happened afterwards?"
"I wish I could show you, but we don't have time for it. I can already feel you being pulled to the world of the living." He sighs. "The Amethyst Empress was indeed killed shortly after me. Our killer, the Bloodstone Emperor, rose to power, and… long story short, that was the first event that led to the Long Night Korra and—especially—Kyoshi lived through."
Jon nods. He has many questions, but he can feel his time there is going up. "Where are we?"
"Mossovy," Aang replies with a wistful smile. "More specifically, in the Southern Air Temple, where I spent the first years of my life, before I was revealed to be the Avatar and moved to the Great Empire of Dawn to train."
He looks at his hands. They are fading away. Did the same happen when he was with Roku? "Is this temple standing today?"
"No." He can hear the sadness in Aang's voice. "A few ruins remain, but… Mossovy is now a wasteland. Worse than—"
He doesn't hear the rest.
By morning, he asks Mopatis to stay at his place for another day, claiming his gardens are good for meditation and training. "It's not a good idea to firebend in Westeros lately," he explains, "so I want to let my bending out a little, if you let me."
Mopatis shrugs. "As long as you don't burn anything. And one day more only."
He takes the morning to practice, just in case he's being watched, and after lunch he goes to the same tree to meditate. Fire, air… water. I must focus on waterbending if I want to contact Korra. So he does. After some time, as with Roku and Aang, he hears a voice.
"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
For once he was a true love of mine"
He opens his eyes abruptly. This is Ygritte's favorite song, the one about the legendary city where 'everything was possible if love was the force behind it'. Who is singing it now, and why?
"Tell him to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seam nor fine needlework
And he shall be the true love of mine"
Of course, the female voice must belong to Korra. He's already standing, so he looks around to find himself in an empty street, with several stalls spread across it. He makes his way to the voice and finds a dark-skinned woman—the same skin color as the siblings who were Aang's allies—standing behind one of the stalls.
"Hello, Jon," she greets him with a half smile.
"Hello… Korra," he says hesitantly. She nods in confirmation. "I… how do you know this song?"
She tilts her head. "This song is from my generation. How do you know about it?"
"It's a popular song among the Free Folk," he replies defensively. "My… Ygritte has sung for me—for us—many times. About a… legendary city."
Her half smile morphs into a full grin. "There is nothing legendary about Scarborough Shore." At that, she goes out of her stall and gestures around the street. "This is where the fair happened every spring."
He frowns. "Aang said you lived through the Long Night," he points out. "And yet you know spring?"
She chuckles. "Seasons did not always work the way you know, Jon," she replies swiftly. "In fact, they began to last months and years after the Long Night. Before, all seasons lasted three moons—summer, fall, winter, spring. Every year we saw the four of them." Her grin falls. "Until the days got shorter and colder. Summer ended sooner than it should, and we had the longest autumn ever. I died at the very beginning of the Long Night."
She sounds really sad at the end of her speech, so he doesn't ask her how she died. Watching Aang's death through his eyes was enough, thank you very much. Instead, he changes the subject. "Aang told me the life of an Avatar was lonely in nature, and my friends' advice to learn to do things on my own doesn't apply to us. But he didn't tell me much more than that. Could you help me?"
She sighs. "Aang was a very social person. His first years were spent in the Southern Air Temple, along with many airbender families. When he was proclaimed to be the Avatar, he was five years old. They separated him from his parents, but he still got along with all those who trained him. He met and befriended Katara and Sokka when he was nine, then there was Toph.
"I began making friends late in life, after I had mastered most of the bending arts. I never befriended my mentors—I was trained by Master Katara and Master Toph, who were too older to be my friends—and lost my parents very young. I was lonely for most of my life, but I grew attached to my friends rather fast, and they all fought alongside me when the Others showed up."
"So I should do the same," he says. "I must not fight alone, but alongside my friends." She nods. He smiles. "Good. That's good to know. I do not need to be alone all the time… and my friends can be remembered alongside me and get the glories as well. They deserve it."
At that, Korra lets out a bitter laugh, which startles him. "Be remembered?", she says, sounding exasperated. "Oh, you know nothing, Jon Frost. Your friends won't be remembered, and neither will you, not in the long run."
He takes a step back. "How can you say that? Everyone remembers the Avatar!"
She raises an eyebrow. "Yes," she seems to concede, "but have you ever heard Roku's and Aang's names before they came to you? Or mine, or Kyoshi's?"
He glances away and shakes his head. "Look at me," she calls, and he obeys. "All of this," she gestures. "It no longer stands."
A blinding light surrounds them, forcing him to blink. When it's gone, they are no longer in a stall-filled street, but in a half-ruined stone road bordering a precipice. Ahead of it, there is only the ocean. On his other side, there are no stalls or buildings. "My home is nothing but a wild island now," Korra says sadly, and he turns to her. "No one today knows Skane was ever inhabited. As for my friends… those who survived the battles perished when Scarborough Shore fell. When my dear Asami died," she smiles, although it's still sad, "her house—the only Skanese noble house, the only bender house north of the Haunted Forest—died too, and soon erased from history. Nobody in your time, not even the Skagosi, knows House Sato ever existed."
She grabs his hand, and the world around him rushes by in a blur, as if Korra is transporting him at the fastest speed possible. When the rush stops, he finds himself standing at Old Valyria, but way more ruined. "This is how Roku's home looks today," she informs. "A ruin nobody can safely step foot on. House Targaryen took pride in carrying the blood of Old Valyria, but not even they knew they were descendants of the last firebender Avatar. And nobody remembers the names of the other houses who lived here, only of those who escaped the Doom."
The world rushes again, now stopping before five tall, dark buildings in the middle of a desert. "The Five Forts," she announces. "All that remained of Aang's time. His birth place is now home to shadow demons and evil spirits, and the town he grew up in is another ruin, hidden by a YiTish city covered in gold; there is no statue, no building honoring his name."
Another rush, which stops at a forest. He can see black buildings and totens covered in mud, but Korra's voice draws his attention before he can make out details. "Kyoshi's home city," she begins, "is now a haunted ruin where nothing grows for long. The one attempt to keep her memory alive backfired when all Kyoshi Warriors perished here."
He shakes his head. "She lived on everyone's memories," he argues. "All prophecies spoke of the Avatar returning among firebenders because Kyoshi was an earthbender."
She nods, albeit weakly. "Yes," she concedes, "at least that was remembered." She lets go of his hand and places both of hers on her breeches' front pockets. "But people didn't really know that. To know, you must be sure, and people took those prophecies and stories as nothing but sweet fiction. And what else remained of Kyoshi but her first element? Nothing. Nobody knows her name, her gender, where she was born. Do you think her story would have been told had people known she took a female lover… like I did?"
He raises his eyebrows at the new information. Asami must have been her lover, he realizes, remembering how she said that name fondly not long ago. "I don't know," he admits. Same-sex lovers are despised in Westeros, but important people—like Princess Rhaena Targaryen—don't have that part of their story fully erased, even if maesters tried to tone it down.
"And we'll never know," Korra replies sternly, "because Rangi was forgotten, just as my Asami was forgotten, just as Roku's wife was forgotten, just as the girl Aang fancied was forgotten. Just as we four were all forgotten."
She looks up at the sky, and he follows, only to find the sun blocked by giant tree leaves. "People remembered us for a time, yes," she continues. "The Fire Sages looked for the Avatar among their people until the Doom. Aang's bending instructors told me all about him when they came to me, although it took a while for them to share how he died. There was a statue of me near Scarborough Keep, and well, I mentioned the Kyoshi Warriors to you."
She meets his gaze again. "But none of these things lasted. You didn't know about any of them until I told you. No, neither you or your friends will be remembered for long, Avatar Jon… but your deeds will."
He feels her grabbing his hand again, and the world rushes until they are in a marble room. Before him there is a bed with red sheets. An old man—Roku—lies on it, being held by his wife, surrounded by adults and children. "Roku may be a forgotten ancestor," he hears Korra say, "but, in his time, he was the only Targaryen, the only member of a House that seemed doomed to go extinct. If you stand alive today, it's because of him."
So I am Roku's descendant, he thinks right before the world rushes once more. Again, he finds himself standing before those huge forts, but this time, he sees people going in and out of them—soldiers, it appears. "Aang failed to stop his enemies, but his Five Forts are what protects Essos from the dangers lying in the Grey Waste. Just as Kyoshi's Wall protects your people from the Others."
He turns to her, startled. "Kyoshi was the one to build the Wall?"
She smiles. "I'll let her tell the story." The world rushes again, and he's back to the stall-filled street he met Korra in. "There may be nothing left of me and my home, but the Free Folk still sings of a city where anything is possible if driven by love. Kyoshi's sacrifice enabled centuries of peace for humankind…"
She lets go of his hand and places her on his shoulders. "And now you can make sure this peace lasts this time around. The world may not remember your name a thousand years from now, but they will remember there was once an Avatar who ended the Long Night once and for all, who succeeded where his predecessors failed. Forget about glories and history, Jon. You only have this life to do what's right."
She pushes him, and he's back in Mopatis' garden.
Like the previous day, Jon decides to wait for late night to try to contact Kyoshi. Korra already gave him a lot to think about.
Life lessons aside—those he can mull over when he leaves Pentos—his waterbender predecessor told him a lot of information about her story and the others'. Adding to what the male Avatars said, he can begin to paint a picture of the past.
Roku, in his own words, was the last Avatar to live and die in peace. He met the Stranger in his wife's arms, surrounded by his children and grandchildren, securing his House's lineage, which lives on to this day in Jon, Aegon and Daenerys (and perhaps Viserys, Daenerys' brother, although Mopatis' omission of his name may mean bad news).
Aang was born in Mossovy, a place which may have been full of human life once—apparently, a home for airbenders—but now is full of 'shadow demons and evil spirits'—he ought to ask Kyoshi about it. He moved to the Great Empire of Dawn—the nation that preceded Yi Ti, if he remembers Maester Aemon's lessons right—and died defending a good empress against an evil emperor, who somehow brought the Long Night with him. (He thinks this question will be better answered when he manages to see either Aang or Korra again.)
Korra was born in Scarborough Shore, a very much real, albeit destroyed, city in Skane—an island that didn't seem to have always been an island, if his visions under her guidance are anything to go by. It was during her lifetime that seasons changed to what the world knows now, but it was Kyoshi who truly faced the Long Night.
Kyoshi was born in a city that now is an abandoned ruin 'where nothing grows'. He can't remember such a place from his history lessons, especially one surrounded by forest—by the way, a forest that doesn't look much like the ones in the riverlands. That was certainly not in Westeros, but was it Essos? One of the islands southeast of Dorne? Sothoryos, perhaps?
Oh, wait, Roku mentioned she was born in Yeen. He frowns, trying to remember whether he heard of that name or not, coming up with nothing. Well, he can ask Kyoshi when he meets her.
He makes a mental list of all things to ask Kyoshi about: her birth place, the Wall, 'shadow demons and evil spirits' in Mossovy, the Kyoshi Warriors, her death and why no Avatar was born immediately after.
After supper, he goes back to the gardens. He kneels and buries his hands in the soil, closing his eyes and feeling the earth underneath him, not unlike Ellaria's sandbending meditation technique. He knows it works when he hears a song.
"Lost in a dream, finally it seems
Emptiness and everlasting madness
See the sadness grow, watching as we know
Long before our journey for the world"
He opens his eyes to find himself standing on a road delimited by trees eerily similar to the ones he saw in the last ruins Korra showed him—this must be Yeen, or its surroundings.
"Call for us, the power in all of us
So far beyond the blackened sky tonight
Glorious, forever more in us
We are victorious and so alive..."
There is no need to find Kyoshi, for she stands in front of him, only a few steps ahead, looking beyond the dense forest. He walks the way and stops close to her. She turns around to face him. She's tall, taller than even Brienne, and her face is covered in white make-up. She wears green and black armor and carries a pair of fans in her hands. He frowns at them; they look familiar—
The dream I had beyond the Wall, when I met Mance for the first time, he realizes with a gasp.
She chuckles. "Yes, I tried to reach out to you when you were younger. Couldn't do much beyond a dream, though."
He startles. "Did you read my mind?"
"No," she replies with amusement. "You just said it out loud." He scratches his head in embarrassment. "I'm Kyoshi," she continues, "but you already know that. Just as I already know your name, Jon Frost."
"I suppose so," he replies. "I… reached out to you to ask a few questions."
"You may ask," she replies easily. "I won't promise answers, though."
He sighs, but concedes. If the others got away with no answering a question or another, so can she. He supposes he can try to reach them later if needed. "Roku said you were born in Yeen," he begins, "and Korra showed its ruins. I assume we are in Yeen… but where is Yeen?"
She smiles a bit. "Sothoryos," she answers. "North of it, but not facing the coast. It's down the main river, if I recall correctly. Next question?"
Well, she's practical. "Were you the one to build the Wall?"
Her smile turns into a smirk, one that reminds him of Jaime when he failed at metalbending. "Look into my eyes, and you'll see." Like Aang's, her glow white when he obeys, and soon he's transported to familiar territory.
She turns to look at three men beside her. Her mind tells Jon they are members of her closest circle. "Lao Ge, Kirima, Bran," she calls them. "It is time."
All three of them get in position. "I'll start," she says, in a tone that implies she's only reminding them of something they should already know, "and you'll add to it as I go."
She separates her legs as far as she can and bends her knees a bit. He feels a surge of power overflowing her body, which begins to glow, from what he sees from the corners of her eyes—this must be the Avatar State. The earth beneath her shakes, and a huge ice wall just erupts from the ground in front of them.
He feels a pull, and soon he's back to the forest road. "You've built it mostly by yourself," he says in awe.
She nods. "The credit ended up going to Bran Stark—Bran the Builder—because his was the only name that survived in the long run. But yes, I did most of the work. Bran was charged with its finishing after the Long Night, which endorsed the rumours he had been the one behind the whole thing. He didn't live long enough to fix the rumours, so they became history."
He hums. It's a lot already, but he has more questions to ask. "What were the Kyoshi Warriors?"
"Oh, that." She smiles again. "I had my own fighting style, which I developed here in Yeen, years before I went North. Girls and women who learned it and fought beside me came back with the intent of keeping my memory alive. They called themselves my spiritual daughters. I remember the two who I personally mentored who founded the group. Suki and Ty Lee." She sounds proud, but then her smile falls. "Yeen fell to disease in less than a generation after the Long Night, though, and none of them lived to pass it on." She shakes her head. "Any other questions?"
"Yes," he replies. "Roku said that, every time an Avatar died, another was born right after. When I asked why no one succeeded you, he told me to ask you."
She squeezes her eyes shut. "It's not a memory I like to recall," she says, "but it seems that I must. Look into my eyes again." Then she opens hers, already glowing.
The Night King proved to be a greater challenge than she expected. From the rumours, she had assumed him to be merely the Night Queen's pet, but he was intelligent and deadly—a fact she found out the hard way.
Now she kneels on the ground, trying not to groan in pain from the injury. The ice spear is still inside her belly, making her bleed in a painfully slow pace. She ought to take it off to fasten her death. There is no salvation for her this time.
So she takes it off. The bleeding intensified, but not as much as she hoped. She sits by a weirwood tree, suppressing her groans to avoid being found. She already fears someone will follow the blood trail and find the Avatar dying; it's not a sight anyone should be cursed with. Let them think she's far ahead of them; ignorance will be their blessing.
But no, it is not how it's meant to be, for Rangi finds her. Of course it's Rangi. She rushes to her side and kneels before her. "What happened?"
She tries to explain, but it hurts to speak. She can only mention the Night King before a groan finally escapes.
Rangi looks pained, as if Kyoshi's pain is her own. Perhaps it is, as the reverse would be true. "Do you want me to put you of it?", she asks painfully.
Kyoshi nods and smiles weakly. She knows killing her will hurt Rangi, but she knows her enough to know this is what she wants, and she loves her enough to do this.
Her lover draws her Valyrian steel sword—'Truth' is its name, she vaguely recalls—and whispers, "I love you" before stabbing her chest.
Despite the darkness, the vision doesn't end. For a short while, Jon floats in the dark, until the eyes are opened again. A humanoid creature with pale bluish skin and cold blue eyes stares at him/her. Kyoshi stands up rather gracefully for someone with her injuries and follows the creature. At one point, she looks down to a small frozen lake.
The vision before them abruptly pulls Jon out of the vision.
"You turned into a wight," he says, gasping.
She nods, not leaving his gaze. "It happened before any Avatar could be born in Valyria," she adds. "I've been in the Spirit World for less than sixteen years. My spirit was only set free after my wight self was killed, and only when I crossed the bridge between realms were you able to be born as the Avatar." She takes a deep breath. "We have time for one more question, if you have it."
"I do," he confirms. "Korra mentioned dangers beyond the Five Forts, as well as the existence of… 'shadow demons and evil spirits' in Mossovy. Do you know about this?"
She flinches and nods. "Korra and I were too busy dealing with the Others to bother with them," she says. "But Aang saw them, and the people fighting in the Five Forts are as aware of them as the Night's Watch is aware of the Others. Mossovy and the Grey Waste are like the Lands of Always Winter in that aspect, and the dangers these places host are all connected to one another." She sighs. "There isn't enough time to tell you about them, and your cousin Bran is being trained to help you in this regard as we speak. You'll learn it all eventually; you must learn, because, in order to end the Long Night definitely, you must defeat the Others, the shadow demons and the evil spirits." She grabs one of his shoulders. "Do not go to your aunt yet. You must head to Braavos first. Important people wait for you there."
With that, she pushes him, and he is back to the garden. He stands up and goes to his room, already planning his next steps.
Step One: make sure the ship is going to Braavos this time.