Chapter 13

Vaatu didn't say anything as he stepped forward.

Takaro had to climb up the larger roots to get to the trunk of the Tree of Time. The short journey was just long enough for him to think about what he was doing. The only thing that stopped him from turning and fleeing was the cat bounding ahead of him and looking back. For some reason, the thought of disappointing her sat worse with him than the idea of unleashing an uncontrollable chaos spirit.

Once at the base of the tree, he looked up at the top branches. They were so high up that he almost couldn't crane his neck far enough to see them. Vaatu still didn't speak. It was more than a little irritating how silent he'd become.

Takaro turned his gaze down to the surface of the tree that was right in front of him. The bark was rough and dark, without so much as a crack to be seen. He brought the tip of his sword up and tried to scratch the wood. It left no mark at all. There was barely even a sound as he raked the blade across the tree.

He stared in confusion for a moment, completely stumped on where he was supposed to go from there. His pondering was interrupted when the cat leaped up onto his shoulder, startling him. Takaro looked at her, then followed her gaze back to the tree. Suddenly, he realised what he needed to do.

The sword in his right hand spun as he reversed his grip on it and brought it up to stab it into the bark. With his other hand on the pummel, he began to press the tip into the bark with all his strength. At that moment, the cat changed. Her physical body gave way to an ethereal form of pure spiritual energy. Takaro could feel her sink down into his back, the warmth of her innate power seeping into him.

It felt like nothing he'd ever experienced. Hot vigour flowed through his shoulders, down into his gut, reaching up into his very mind. All his fatigue was forgotten as he pushed his blade forward this the strength of a thousand men.

At that moment, a crack began to form.

The bark splintered and fell away in tiny shards. From beneath the skin of the tree, a dark red light began to shine through. It seemed to clash with the dark blue glow radiating from Takaro's own body.

His exasperated growl turned into a yell as his arms began to ache until finally the sword spit a hole in the tree and sank right in. Takaro slipped and fell forward, slamming his chest onto the pummel. He barely had enough air in his lungs to gasp in pain.

It was all he had time to do before the red glow gave way to a dark mass that shot out of the crack in the form of thin tendrils and wrapped around his wrists. The body of the spirit pushed the sword out and extended up Takaro's arms. The crack widened and he felt the tendrils pull him into it.

He didn't realise he was screaming as he sank into the darkness of Vaatu's form.

When Takaro was little, he used to look up at the night sky and marvel at the stars. He'd wonder just how far away they were and what it was like in their part of the universe, he even tried to count them a few times.

A teacher had once asked him what his favourite thing to learn about was and he had said space. He was very disappointed when told that there weren't going to be any lessons on the subject at his school and his interest died soon after.

He remembered those days as he floated there, in the endless void of the universe, dotted with thousands of stars so many millions of miles away that they were just little twinkles to him.

Gone was the Tree of Time, the strange sky and craggy ground of the spirit world, even Vaatu was completely none existent here.

Takaro looked down at himself and realised that he still had a body. It was slightly translucent and tinted red, but when he flexed his fingers, he could feel the muscles in his hands. This wasn't like the vision the Tree of Time had given him.

As he gazed down, he noticed that beneath his feet was a sort of trail. Like his body, it was see-through, and it led off in a winding route that eventually faded away. He turned to follow it in the other direction and was struck by what he saw.

Floating at the end of the path was a giant shadow of himself. There was no colour on its body, only a radiating glow that outlined its figure. There wasn't a face, but it did have eyes; bright red shining eyes that stared down at him. Its hands were held up before its abdomen as if holding something.

Takaro gawked at it, mouth agape, and took a tentative step forward. As he approached, the giant floated down to his level and the space between its hands started to glow. The closer he got, the more the light began to take form, turning into a ball of pure spirit energy.

Takaro reached out his hand towards it, feeling the warmth it gave off. He didn't give himself time to think about his decision before rushing forward into the light.

He felt an intense rush of power course through his body, then spread further out. It was as if everything around him was also a part of his being. Was this what being a bender was like? To have control and feeling of something that wasn't his flesh and bone?

The whole world had turned the same blood red as Vaatu. It began to fade, revealing the outlines of an image. It came into focus and showed him the inside of a dark room.

The walls were plain and undecorated, and the opened window showed it to be night-time, with just a small amount of moonlight pouring in.

The only things in there were a few chairs and a crib.

Takaro was unable to move. He didn't know if that was because of the nature of the vision or his shock. He could hear breathing from the crib. It was faint, almost inaudible. Then it quickened and became fitful until it was replaced by sputtering.

The baby wasn't breathing properly. It was dying.

Where were the parents? Was this a hospital? Where was the doctor? Why wasn't anyone coming to help?

Why couldn't he do anything?

The moonlight shimmered. It became brighter and began to morph. He knew by now that this was the presence of a spirit. Amid the shine, a figure began to fade into existence—a girl dressed in pale purple.

She looked young, probably as old as he was, with tanned skin and long white hair that bellowed out around her. But beneath her appearance, he could see an ancient being.

She gazed down into the crib with a sorrowful expression. With gracefulness that didn't seem possible, she reached down into the crib, picked up the bundle, and held it to her chest.

The soft glow on her body began to shine brighter until the light also enveloped the baby in her arms.

The laboured breaths and coughing faded, replaced by quiet snores.

A gentle smile spread across the spirit girl's lips as she lowered the baby back into the crib. She stared down at him for just a moment before her form faded and dissolved into pure moonlight.

The room returned to nothingness, only interrupted when the baby began to cry.

A loud, healthy cry.

Takaro stumbled back, tripping and tumbling down. He rolled over his shoulder and fell, landing hard on his side. A shock of pain went through his body and the air left his lungs.

He lay there for a moment until the pain lessened. Then he lay there a bit longer as he felt the exhaustion weigh him down. Eventually, he sat up and looked around. He was still in the spirit world, at the roots of the Tree of Time. The tree itself had stopped glowing.

Takaro stood and clambered back up the roots to the spot where he had stabbed into the bark. His sword was still up there. He picked it back up and saw that, mercifully, there wasn't any damage done to the sharp edge.

The boy slumped down and sat in the crook of the root, his bag pressing awkwardly into his back. He had spent an entire day marching through the tundra, been chased around an ice forest by angry wraiths, had half a dozen world-shattering revelations dropped on his head in just twenty minutes, witnessed two visions of the past, gotten swallowed and spat out by an ancient spirit tree, and maybe was turned into an Avatar by fusing with a great spirit.

He was more tired at that moment than he thought was physically possible. Every muscle he had ached, his head was swimming, and his eyelids were practically forcing themselves closed.

Wasn't he supposed to be an Avatar now? He sure didn't feel like one.

He saw a flicker in the corner of his eye and looked over with a smile. The hawk cat gave him a happy meow from her perch atop the root. Just the sight of her was comforting.

It was then that something came to him. Takaro didn't know how he knew this, but he did.

"Xiala." He said. "Your name's Xiala"

The spirit looked him dead in the eyes. They were back to being green. He snorted.

"All right, since you clearly have some energy, you can keep watch."

Sleeping here was probably a bad idea. He was out in the open, exposed to both the elements and whatever spirits might come along, he didn't know if sleeping in the roots of the Tree of Time would give him another vision of the past, or even the future, and with only his loaded rucksack for bedding, he was destined to wake up with a sore back.

But right now, Takaro didn't care. Xiala was there, she'd keep him safe.

Takaro woke slowly, feeling much better than he should. He was warm and comfortable, with a pillow beneath his head and a blanket over his body.

At first, he thought he was in another vision, but then he shifted his arm and clumsily felt his face. His blurred vision returned to him after he rubbed his eyes.

He was inside a room that he didn't recognise, though the architecture indicated the Earth Kingdom. His bag was on the floor by the door and Xiala was sitting in a chair against the far wall.

"You know, usually when you're keeping watch, you're supposed to wake the sleeping person when something happens."

She just stared at him.

A glance out the window told Takaro that it was morning and he was in a building that was near a forest. He was surprisingly comforted by the fact that it was just a normal forest that didn't seem to have any spirits in it.

He threw aside the blanket and swung his legs off the bed. He felt something beneath his foot and found what appeared to be the scraps of a torn-up rope. A bit strange, but not important right now. He was still wearing his clothes, minus his boots and coat… and his sword!

He jumped up and went over to his things. Missing were his sword, pick axes, rope, and crampons. Thankfully, all his money was still there. It was obvious that the only items taken were the things he could use as a weapon.

Takaro huffed and turned to the door. Outside was an empty hallway lined with numbered doors that presumably led into other rooms like his. Was this a hotel? It wasn't decorated like one.

He walked down the hall and through another door that went into a very large room with a padded floor. Where a dozen girls in green armoured dresses and face paint were performing katas with war fans.

They all tensed when they saw him.

"... Good morning?" Takaro said, dumbly.

Immediately, one of them dashed over to him and held her fan's sharp edge to his throat. Her green eyes pierced right through him with the determined grit of a veteran warrior.

"How did you get free? I bound your wrists and locked the door myself."

Takaro just stared at her, completely confused.

"The door was unlocked… I was tied up?"

Every one of the girls was now in front of him, all in perfect formation and ready to strike him. He raised his hand in an attempt to seem non-threatening.

Before he could form any kind of response, he sensed a presence behind him. He was going to have to get used to that weird feeling in his head whenever there were spirits around. Which would probably be quite often now.

The girls clearly didn't possess the same ability as him, because none of them noticed Xiala until she had leaped up onto Takaro's shoulder.

"What the… Where did that cat come from?" The lead girl asked.

Takaro glanced between her and the spirit. It only took him a moment to figure out what had happened.

"Xiala, did you sneak into the room put me in, and rip up the rope they tied around my wrists?"

She meowed proudly.

"Did you also unlock the door?"

Another meow.

"Huh… I didn't know you could do that."

The girls were all staring at him like he'd grown a second head. He should probably say something.

"So my name's Takaro, this is Xiala. We're travellers. Can you please take the sharp fan away from my neck?"

After a moment of tense silence, the leader withdrew her weapon, though the others didn't relax. Takaro sighed.

"Okay, great, now maybe you'd be so kind as to tell me why you tied me up and locked me in a room."

She studied him for a second before answering.

"Some kids found you asleep on the beach yesterday. They called us and we brought you back to our dojo. We made sure to take your weapons and secure you while you slept, of course. Can never be too careful with outsiders, especially armed ones."

Takaro blinked.

"Right… and where exactly are we?"

Her glare hardened, as if she was trying to figure out if he was messing with her or just stupid.

"Kyoshi Island."