Chapter Text
“Water… Fire… Earth… Air…”
A parade of human silhouettes flitted across the translucent white wall, their swift movements like benders, manipulating each element in turn.
“... Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony…”
Three children—two boys, and one girl—sat huddled around the final, fading embers in a shallow firepit recessed into the floor. The dying flames cast a flickering light across their eager faces and threw long shadows across the small but richly furnished chamber. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of the same smooth, softly translucent material—ice—but it was almost entirely concealed beneath the fine furs that draped across every surface, piled with intricately embroidered cushions.
The boy who had been telling the tale relished in the dramatic pause and drew it out until the other boy’s impatience began to show and an interruption threatened to burst forth from his lips to tell the overdramatic storyteller to get on with it—they all knew what was coming.
“... Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.”
With a flick of his fingers, the boy who was telling the story cast the silhouette of an army marching across the wall, as though the wall itself had burst into life. It was almost impossible to see the many-tendriled ball of water hovering in the air between the fire and the wall, shifting here and there in a carefully choreographed dance as an infinitely flexible shadow puppet.
“... Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop them…”
The boy lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially, and the other two could not help but mirror him, their ears straining to catch his words.
“... But when the world needed him most, he vanished.”
In that instant, the last of the flames flickered out, leaving them in complete darkness.
The first light of spring peeked tentatively over the horizon, replacing the dark greys and blues of night with the soft orange and pink of dawn. The intricate, ice-wrought residences and pavilions shattered and reflected the light like so many kaleidoscopes, even more startling in contrast with the long, dark shadows cast in their wake. The low, sprawling compound was arranged so that, from a distance, all together it almost gave the impression of a delicate northern flower beginning to bloom.
However, by the time the sluggish sun had begun to rise, the young masters of Penguin-Seal Pier were far from the city. There were six long, narrow boats in all, gliding single file down the narrow passages between immense planes of sea ice. In the heart of summer, Penguin-Seal pier would jut out on the open ocean, but in early spring, it was only accessible by a labyrinth of thin channels through the ice.
In each boat stood six disciples in long, fur-lined, indigo robes, slicing their arms through the air in unison to bend the water below and propel the boat forward. As was custom, all young waterbenders in the Southern Water Tribe were sent to train under the patriarch of the Jiang family, which had led the Southern Water Tribe from Penguin-Seal Pier for many generations.
The two boats at the head of the procession each bore one additional passenger standing at the bow to lead the small fleet. The young man guiding the first boat was Jiang Cheng, the only son of the current leader of the Southern Water Tribe, Jiang Fengmian. The young man at the head of the second boat, whose bow almost touched the stern of the first, was Wei Wuxian, the son of a loyal servant of Jiang Fengmian, who, after his parents’ death, had been raised alongside Jiang Cheng as though they were brothers.
Suddenly, Jiang Cheng motioned with his hand and the entire procession came to a halt. The passages between the planes of sea ice had gradually widened as they went further and further from Penguin-Seal Pier, and now the boats came to a stop nearly at the mouth of the passage, where it gave way to open ocean.
The Water Nation disciples lowered their arms and began to trail them above the water as though gently paddling the boats forward, maneuvering the six boats into a wide ring. When they stopped once more, the ring was wide enough that the boats on the edges almost bumped against the ice on either side.
Then, all of the disciples shifted into a lower stance, with one leg bent forward toward the water, and the other extended behind, to steady them on the boat, so their body stood like the crest of a rolling wave. They held their arms out toward the center of the ring, and rolled them like the lapping of water against the boats, in slow, rhythmic motions. However, the surface remained unchanged as they bended the water deep below to gradually draw the fish up from the depths.
Wei Wuxian gave an exaggerated yawn. “So slow. I bet I could do it faster.”
Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Wei Wuxian’s ways. “No one’s stopping you from pitching in.”
Wei Wuxian smirked, accepting what encouragement he could get. He made a show of rolling his shoulders as he dropped into a loose stance, quite different from the form of the disciples around him, and he rolled his arms quickly from side to side, much faster than the disciples’ unified rhythmic motions. Immediately the water around the boats began to bubble and surge, and the others were only able to remain upright thanks to a lifetime of training, though the disciples stopped their bending, waiting to see what Wei Wuxian would do.
As his arms waved back and forth, they slowly went higher and higher as though winding up a high glacier, and the water grew rougher and rougher, until fish could be seen flopping at the surface. And then, with a sudden sweeping movement, the water erupted like a geyser and crashed back down in a shower of icy salt water and struggling fish, which nearly flipped the boats.
The disciples frantically remembered their training to steady the boats and shield the young master from the sudden downpour, but for Jiang Cheng’s heavy, fur robes, at least, it was too little too late.
“Nice going,” Jiang Cheng snapped at Wei Wuxian as one of the disciples drew the water out of Jiang Cheng’s robes before drying his own.
Wei Wuxian, of course, was spared any consequence of his own recklessness and remained perfectly dry throughout. He even had the audacity to preen at his “success.”
“Look at all the fish we caught; a great haul for the first hunt of the season all thanks to your leadership and my efforts!”
Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, but sure enough, the now dry disciples were hastily gathering up as many fish as they could into a shifting, ever growing net woven of ice, hanging between the boats.
The disciples were so occupied they did not notice that the water had yet to settle. It still bubbled and surged even though Wei Wuxian stood still and upright, his hands behind his back. It was Wei Wuxian, who was not occupied with gathering the fish and whose boat was near the mouth of the passage, facing out toward the open ocean, who first noticed the source of these larger, rocking waves.
At first it was a mere depression in the water, like the ebb of a wave that lingered and did not fill with the following flow, but to the senses of one who had lived with this water all his life, it was plain that this was the epicenter of the tumult, and he could feel that there was something deeper moving below.
Despite being the heir of both Water Tribes, Jiang Cheng had no ingrained sense for the waters, but he knew Wei Wuxian and followed his gaze out into the open ocean. However, Jiang Cheng had but a moment of realization before the water just ahead of them erupted once again, even more powerfully than before, sending the boats rocking and the disciples scrambling to keep from being flipped off into the icy waters, where even a waterbending master might die of cold before they had the chance to escape the water’s grip.
Jiang Cheng crashed to his knees as the disciples frantically steadied the boat, but he fared better than Wei Wuxian, who was closer to the epicenter and caught by surprise at the ferocity of the blast, was tossed from his feet and landed flat on his stomach, clinging to the rim of the narrow boat to keep himself on board. However, all mocking laughter was forgotten at the sight of what had caused the sudden upheaval.
Where there had moments ago been an open passageway out to the open ocean, now their way was blocked by a towering iceberg, which was not truly so large by the standards of the south pole, but its proximity and sudden appearance made it feel immense. Its shape too was remarkable; the thick, opaque frost had cracked around a giant sphere of nearly transparent ice, large enough for all of the disciples to fit inside—with some arranging.
Predictably, despite his fall, Wei Wuxian was the first to get over the shock. He pushed himself upright with the rocking of a wave and turned the water to ice beneath his feet as he strode across the short gap to the foot of the iceberg.
Up close, it was apparent that the surface of the giant sphere was not smooth, as it appeared from a distance, but deeply grooved, like the flow of the ocean currents frozen in place. And inside, partially obscured by the texture of the ice, were a pair of hazy figures; below, an immense creature, larger than a tuna-shark, and above, one much smaller, almost human-sized.
Wei Wuxian stepped closer to get a better look. He touched one hand to the ice with half a thought to bend it open, though a plan had not fully coalesced in his mind. However, the instant his glove touched the scarred surface, the ice gave a tremendous crack , and there was a sudden flash of blinding light and a rush of air, like an inflated sealskin pouch rupturing.
He barely had an instant to register what had occurred as he blinked the spots from his eyes to see what was in fact a human figure, which had apparently been suspended in air all of that time, now drifting toward the ground, like falling snow. Wei Wuxian lunged to catch it, and as though in slow motion, a young man fell into his arms.
The first thing Wei Wuxian noticed, as the man settled awkwardly across his arms, was that the man was very tall, even taller than himself, and second, that though his chest sighed and blood pulsed, he was like a dead weight, fast asleep. Wei Wuxian groaned as he shifted the man in his arms, letting the man’s feet dangle against the ground, to get a better look at his face.
The third thing Wei Wuxian noticed was that the man was beautiful. He was like untouched snow, so bright that for a moment, he seemed to glow. He wore a long, pure white robe, simple but of fine material and with extravagant sleeves, as though he was dressed for a funeral. Wei Wuxian’s finger ghosted across the silken headband wrapped around the man’s brow, patterned with soft white clouds. It was of the style once worn by airbenders, and those patterned with clouds were worn only by airbending masters.
Wei Wuxian had always been the kind of boy who tugged at a pretty girl’s braids, not out of malice, but for the attention, perhaps, or else merely because they were there. And now, confronted with this beautiful young man, he was overcome with the compulsion to tug the long, dangling ends of his forehead ribbon, or poke his finely sculpted cheeks until it roused him from his slumber.
However, perhaps for the best, Wei Wuxian was interrupted in his designs by a shout from one of the disciples.
“What’s that!?”
The young man in Wei Wuxian’s arms was not the only thing which had been suddenly released from the iceberg.
Jiang Cheng had led several of the disciples onto the ice, and they were all crowded around the giant creature, which was now sprawled out on the ground, no more awake than the young man who had been trapped with it. Now that it was no longer sealed in the ice, it was clear that it was no creature of the sea, but something more akin to a giant polar-bear-dog, with a coat of shaggy white fur, a giant black nose, and not four, but six legs. Tied to its short, thin horns, was a rope that connected to a harness on its back, big enough for several riders, which marked it as the companion of the young man.
As the more studious disciple ought to have recalled, it was not any mere pet or beast of burden, but an air bison, the legendary steeds of the Air Nomads, which had not been seen in this world since their destruction one hundred years ago.
There wasn’t much debate; they couldn’t just abandon the young man and his sky bison out on the ice, certainly not when there were so many questions that remained unanswered. The disciples reorganized themselves so that the unconscious young man could travel with Wei Wuxian, who carried him all the way to the boat, where he laid the man down, his back propped up against Wei Wuxian’s legs for space. His sky bison, which would not have fit in all of the boats tied together as a raft, was set on a floe of ice, which they towed behind them.
It was a slow journey back to Penguin-Seal Pier, especially as the waterways narrowed so only one boat could pass, and the disciples had to work together to draw the sky bison along. However, not long after the sun disappeared below the horizon, they could see Penguin-Seal Pier, set aglow with a thousand lanterns, beckoning them home.
As darkness fell, they set out their own penguin-seal oil lanterns on the bows of their boats, so by the time they reached the pier, all of its inhabitants knew of their arrival, and had gathered around, eager to see the bounties of their foray. As they neared, murmurs of confusion spread through the crowd at their unexpected haul.
A young woman, draped in a fine fur robe, hurried to the front to greet them. She was Jiang Yanli, the only daughter of Jiang Fengmian, and the older sister of Jiang Cheng. At the sight of the unconscious young man, now back in Wei Wuxian’s arms, she went straight to his side, drawing water from the ocean into her hand to tend his injuries, as Wei Wuxian attempted to begin to explain how they had found him.
“What’s all the commotion?” A low voice, friendly in tone, but which demanded respect, rose from behind the crowd, where the steps led up into the heart of Penguin-Seal Pier.
The crowd parted before Jiang Fengmian, the leader of the Southern Water Tribe himself. He slid effortlessly down to the dock on a long ribbon of ice which formed beneath his feet, all the way to the end where his children had gathered around Wei Wuxian and the young man who he carried in his arms.
Together, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng urgently repeated their account, and Jiang Fengmian listened intently, the whole time peering at the young man in Wei Wuxian’s arms.
Finally, Jiang Fengmian remarked, “I believe it is said that Avatar Hanguang-jun was around this age when he vanished, and there is only one thing I can think of which could have released so much spiritual energy as to create that pillar of light which could be seen even from here.”
Jiang Cheng could not remain silent. “What about the Fire Nation? They’ll stop at nothing to get the Avatar, and now they’ve already been as good as told that he’s here. They’re probably on their way already!”
Jiang Fengmian gave his son a disappointed look, but acknowledged, “It’s true, we don’t have much time. We must all do everything we can to aid him; the Avatar is the best hope the world has against the Fire Lord.”
In the end, less than a week passed before the Fire Nation came to Penguin-Seal Pier. It began as it always did; with light flakes of ash drifting down from the sky like greyed snow. The waterbending disciples prepared for battle, while Jiang Yanli knelt at the Avatar’s bedside in their most well-appointed guest house, her hands aglow with healing water.
The Fire Nation’s steel warships dwarfed the Water Tribe’s long, narrow canoes a thousand fold. Rather than deftly gliding along the paths in the sea ice, the warship cut a long, straight gash from the open ocean, all the way to the foot of Penguin-Seal Pier.
And there the Southern Water Tribe came in force to meet them. Jiang Fengmian stepped forward to greet the Fire Nation’s appointed messenger, his son at his right and Wei Wuxian at his left, and behind them columns of waterbenders, ready to fight for their nation.
With the hiss of air and the clang of metal, the tip of the warship opened and a young woman emerged, draped in intricate red robes of a Fire Nation princess. This young woman was Wen Qing, the Fire Lord’s niece. She had been a beautiful child, but now her delicate features were marred by an angry scar that spread out from her unseeing left eye like the crater from a devastating impact, which lent her a terrifying severity. After her came a fully armored guard of Fire Nation soldiers.
The Water Tribe believed in skill more than discipline, and a murmur of astonishment at the Fire Nation’s brazenness quickly spread across the ranks. Wei Wuxian made a noise of disgust, but Jiang Cheng was silent, and his eyes followed Wen Qing as if he was transfixed by the contradiction of her beautiful features, now horribly scarred.
Jiang Fengmian bowed and greeted her courteously, “And to what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
Wen Qing bowed, but she did not return his pleasantries. “Please hand over the Avatar. I have no wish to fight you, but I will do what must be done to take him into our custody.”
“What? So you can finish him off too?” Wei Wuxian demanded, stirring echoes of agreement from the ranks.
Jiang Cheng clenched his fists and hissed so only Wei Wuxian could hear him, “You want us to suffer the same fate?”
However, Jiang Cheng had no say even had he spoken to be heard, and Jiang Fengmian’s answer was inevitable, “No. The Avatar is under the protection of the Southern Water Tribe.”
Jiang Cheng cursed under his breath.
Wen Qing’s frown deepened, but she nodded in understanding, and motioned for the soldiers to advance. “Find the Avatar.”
The Fire Nation soldiers who had already been standing behind Wen Qing to serve as her guard stepped forward in a single line, as behind them another, even longer line emerged from the ship, and more waited in the passage to disembark. Their metal armor clanked in unison with every step.
The waterbenders took their stances and Jiang Cheng drew his sword. Which side struck first, it was impossible to tell. In almost the same instant, fire and water rushed from opposite sides and met in an explosion of steam more powerful than either attack alone, with a shockwave that sent the Fire Nation soldiers crashing back toward their ship.
The steam cleared to reveal the sky bison in the air above, despite its enormous size, and riding on its back was the young Avatar, the ends of his headband and the sleeves of his robes fluttering behind him in the wind.
“Avatar, go now!” Jiang Fengmian shouted. “We’ll hold them off here.” He turned to the young men behind him. “Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian, take your sister with you and go with the Avatar, and keep each other safe. Teach him everything you can.”
Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian looked ready to protest, but Jiang Cheng suddenly changed his mind, pulling Wei Wuxian with him toward the sky bison, against the flow of Water Tribe disciples rushing to flank the Fire Nation soldiers, who were already beginning to recover.
Jiang Cheng shouted at the Avatar, “Come on, you heard him!” To Wei Wuxian, he said, “They want the Avatar, right? Let’s make them chase us as far away from Penguin-Seal Pier as they can go.”
Wei Wuxian nodded, and the sky bison descended into the midst of the Water Tribe’s ranks, like a rock amidst the rapids. Wei Wuxian helped push Jiang Cheng up into the sky bison’s saddle, and a delicate hand reached down from above to help Jiang Cheng up the last few feet, and to do the same for Wei Wuxian after him.
Jiang Yanli smiled in relief as they all settled in the saddle, already tired from days of long healing sessions, and ill-accustomed to lifting such heavy weights as her younger brothers’. Hanguang-jun had suddenly awoken in the middle of the latest healing session, and she had followed him to the sky bison, reluctant to let her patient go alone when he had so recently recovered.
Hanguang-jun, on the other hand, did not even turn from his place at the reigns to see that they were situated before giving a quick shout of, “Bichen, up!”
Bichen pushed off from the ground with his six huge legs, bending the air beneath them to propel the sky bison and his riders up into the air.
As soon as they were no longer hidden behind the ranks of the Water Tribe, the Fire Nation soldiers moved as one to send a blast of fire after the rising sky bison. With a great sweep of his tail, Bichen choked the fire with a rush of wind, but his riders and the Water Tribe disciples below felt the burst of heat in its wake.
“Ignore the waterbenders, don’t let the Avatar escape!” Wen Qing shouted, even as those waterbenders closed in around them.
As the bison rose higher, out of range of another fiery blow, Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Yanli peered over the edge of the saddle at the flower of Penguin-Seal Pier, rapidly shrinking beneath them. They saw a burst of light like a distant flare as the last of the Fire Nation soldiers retreated into their ship, and then there was a great puff of smoke and a terrible groan as the metal giant struggled to push away from the pier, its powerful engines fighting against the very ice that was bending around it to restrain it.
The three children of the Water Tribe found themselves urging the Fire Nation ship on as it struggled after them in tortuous, glacial pursuit. They watched until it faded out of sight, and the sky bison carried them out over the open ocean.