Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ghost usually liked visiting the Howling Cliffs. Or at least they think the feeling was probably some type of positive affection. It could be a bit hard to tell now that they have  started trying to put names to their feelings, but this one made their void swirl comfortingly like when they saw their siblings, or Mato called them ‘my child’, or even just the way the villagers of Dirtmouth would smile or wave at them. It was a good feeling, that at least they were sure of. But then again, they liked visiting most places in Hallownest now that there were no infected husks constantly trying to kill them.

But all of that was beside the point. They usually liked visiting the Howling Cliffs. Usually being the operative word here. But standing beneath the Stag Nest staring out at the wastelands beyond makes their void seize up, frozen in discomfort. Fear maybe? No, not quite fear. Fear was sharper, icy shards stabbing at their insides. Perhaps trepidation. Something was going to happen, and it was the not knowing that made it so unpleasant. Either way it was discomforting. 

Movement next to them snaped their attention away from the foreboding wasteland in front of them.

“Neither of you had to join me today. I am more than capable of investigating on my own,” Hornet glowered out at the storming distance before whipping around to face their tallest sibling, “And you! You should be resting.” Hollow simply tilted their head to look at her better with their one good eye, the other still covered in silk bandages that hid the large crack running through their mask. They were leaning on the edge of their greatnail again. Ghost had noticed them doing that less and less lately, slowly recovering from their long imprisonment, but the journey through King’s Pass was enough to exhaust them. Still, Hollow’s void burbled in a way that was altogether unapologetic as Hornet’s glare lost its strength.

“I suppose I can understand that you take your responsibilities seriously, but you will do our people no good if you collapse out here and Ghost and I have to drag you back to town.” Hornet gently tapped a claw to her new brand and a gentle warmth radiated from Ghost’s own.

The King’s Brand and all it had entailed had weighed heavy on Ghost’s mind after they had destroyed the Radiance and rejoined their siblings. They did not know what it meant to be a ruler, or in fact how they could even rule if they couldn’t speak and no bug could understand the not-noises of void entities. But after finding Hornet and Hollow recovering in an abandoned Dirtmouth home Ghost had had a thought. Hallownest was mostly empty, no longer a kingdom but a near-empty ruin with only pockets of survivors. Hallownest didn’t need a king. Hallownest needed protectors, problem solvers, and peacekeepers. Someone to go from place to place and person to person and ensure that those who survived the infection could have a second chance at life.

Hornet had refused at first. Of course she had, her argument being that she was already the rightful heir to Deepnest and never wanted to claim Hallownest’s throne for herself. Hollow had accepted the brand with a feeling like wonder reverberating through their void, but it had taken some convincing yet to get their sister to share the mark. Ghost had finally worn her down after Hornet realized the new role wouldn’t be Queen, but essentially the same as the duties she took after the fall of Hallownest. Secretly Ghost was very pleased. After all, if the Mantis tribe could have three lords why not let Hallownest have three lord-protectors as well? Hopefully there would be less betrayal in their future.

Hollow brought them back out of their thoughts by letting out a soft little not-noise and sheathing their greatnail. Ghost nodded. Their biggest sibling was right, the investigation would not start itself. They had come out here for a reason, even if Hornet was the only one who would be able to reliably report their findings to the survivors throughout Hallownest.

The Howling Cliffs had been named so for a reason. The powerful winds coming from the edge of the kingdom never ceased, making it possible to enter but difficult but not impossible to leave, and the billowing storms of dust formed from it came all the way to Dirtmouth where the fine grit would slowly filter down through the air creating the perpetual fuzzy look to the small town.

So when the winds had stopped it was reasonable for people to react with alarm. It had been brought to their attention when the siblings had returned from their last parley with the Colosseum and Elderbug had been extremely worried. Apparently, the winds would stop and start without any rhyme or reason as far as the townsfolk could tell and it was leaving everyone on edge. Hornet had managed to calm the frantic bug down by telling him it was probably due to the lifting of the stasis on Hallownest, but she had confided her true thoughts to her siblings once they were settled back into their appropriated home in town.

If something is testing the kingdom’s barriers we can repel them. I have faith in us and the other surviving defenders of Hallownest to repel an invasion, even in our weakened state. But if it is the Pale King’s seals failing now that his influence diminished then we will have to think of something else. Perhaps if we could find the Weavers…

Hornet sighed. “Come. I would rather be off the cliffs when the wind stops. We are too visible up here. It will be easier to hide in the rocks at the base of the cliff, and we can escape into Greenpath if need be.”

Ghost hopped down from ledge to ledge, keeping a carful eye on their larger sibling as Hollow gently lowered themself down, always keeping a grip on every available handhold. Hornet came last, and Ghost could see the glint of her soul-spun silk as she ensured their sibling’s safe decent.

When they reached the bottom Hollow was trembling ever so slightly and did not object when Hornet directed them to lean against a boulder.

“All there is to do now is wait,” Hornet said before scrambling to the top of the boulder and settling down to start their vigil. Ghost turned to look at their larger sibling. Hollow was no longer trembling and Ghost tilted their head at them, a silent question prodding through their joint void. Hollow leaned down and held out their hand. Without hesitation Ghost hoped onto in and their larger sibling daintily lifted them up and placed them between their horns. Even standing up, Ghost was unable to reach the top of Hollow’s horns. However, they were now eyelevel with Hornet on her perch and she snorted at their antics as Hollow leaned in to put their heads as close to her as possible. After a moment of staunchly ignoring them, Hornet gave in and gently taped both of her void sibling’s masks.

She sighed. “I do not like seeing you strain yourself like this Hollow. Get some sleep. Ghost and I will keep watch.”

Hollow’s void relaxed slightly and they rested their chin on the boulder next to their sister as Ghost got off to sit on their other side. Ghost wished they had a way to convey to Hornet that vessels like themselves couldn’t really sleep. Rest, yes, but with their masks unexpressive and their eyes unable to close true sleep was unavailable to them through natural means. It certainly did not stop Hollow from relaxing, completely draped across the boulder with their void giving off a contented air.

Hornet turned back to watching the wastelands beyond and the windstorm that was currently blowing their way. Ghost watched her for a moment longer before pulling a piece of spidersilk paper out of their void and carefully bracing it against the boulder’s surface to avoid having it torn away from them by the wind. Pulling their trusty quill and inkpot out as well they started working on a new drawing. Their skills were improving, they know this from looking at their map and the improvements they had added to it the longer they had been exploring Hallownest. Ghost could see Hornet trying to steal glances at their work out of the corner of her eyes so Ghost shifted slightly to hide their movements from her. They didn’t want either of their siblings to see their work until it was finished.

Ghost wished they had some red ink. Perhaps Sly had some in his shop. Perhaps he had many different colors of ink and Ghost could buy them all. Or maybe they should visit Sheo and the Nailsmith again and learn to paint instead. Then they could paint portraits of all their favorite people instead of their ink sketches. That might be nice.

Their tram of thought was interrupted by a flash of Soul-light, an intricate pattern lit up for a moment stretching from the edge of Hallownest’s boundary and into the sky before blinking out, taking the howling wind with it.

Hornet’s eyes narrowed and she griped the handle of her needle, tension visible all throughout her form as Hollow pushed themself upright. Ghost tucked their supplies away as their sister bounded towards the edge of the kingdom, glancing back to ensure their largest sibling was following. By the time they reached her, Hornet was already standing on the sandblasted stone next to the faded seal.

“So they are failing. Wyrm damn it!”

Ghost tilted their head at their sister, trying to silently ask a question. Thankfully, she seemed to understand what they were asking this time and directed them to stand directly in front of the seal. “Do you see these lines?” Her claw traced the intricate patterns that lit up with various intensities as she passed over them. “There are multiple seals here. This one,” she jabbed at a brighter line, “is part of the seal that blessed the bugs of Hallownest with higher thought. But this one” she moved to a fainter line, “is the one that protects Hallownest from outside threats.” Ghost pointed at themself. “No, not you. Those who would seek to cause Hallownest harm. If I recall my childhood history lessons correctly, it has failed in the past before when other higher beings have tried to break their way into the kingdom. This one,” Hornet shifted to pointing to a nearly invisible strand with how faded it was, “made it difficult for citizens to leave. It causes the wind that usually drives people away, back towards the kingdom. The Pale King could raise or lower the seal as necessary, but there are other ways to bypass it.” Ghost should know that already. Afterall, they had managed to escape the kingdom once before even if they couldn’t really remember doing so.

Hornet turned her attention away from the now fading seals to her siblings. “These seals were tied directly to the Pale King, the living Soul source that powered them. But with his death there is no god keeping them powered and they will naturally fade,” Hornet scowled, “They aren’t as bad as they could be, but with one of them failing it is only a matter of time before the rest do. We have some time to come up with a solution. Perhaps the White Lady can be convinced to reclaim some of her old power and renew the seals.”

Ghost looked from their sister to the fading seals. The weren’t overly fond of the White Lady. Her behavior towards them had been rather callous, commanding them to sacrifice their sibling’s and their own life for the continuation of the stasis on Hallownest. And she had been rude to Grimmchild, who had done absolutely nothing to deserve it. It wasn’t their fault they had been born in such a way that no one could perceive their mind and emotions, and it wasn’t Grimmchild’s fault for existing to serve in the Nightmare Heart’s ritual.

But there was another option. They were a god now, were they not? Or perhaps they were still just the vessel, their Shade being the real god, carefully occupying their shell, reigning in their power so as not to split their mask and lose their corporal form again. They had ascended in the Godseeker’s mind but had awoken back up next her collapsed form with their void inside them pushing out with enough strength to cause a hairline fracture to snap through their mask. But they had awoken all the same, as a godkiller and a being that was one with the Void.

Either way, if they needed a powerful higher being to keep Hallownest’s Seals of protection active they were more than willing to use the Lord of Shades to fulfill that requirement.

Hornet was saying something to Hollow but cut off as soon as she noticed Ghost reaching out towards the seals. “Little Ghost, what are you doing?”

Ghost ignored her and placed their hand on a faded seal, feeling the faint traces of Soul still lingering in the ancient lines. They gathered themself before focusing, channeling their gathered Soul towards the faded seal.

“Ghost wait!” Hornet managed to get out before all pandemonium broke out. Instead of glowing with new, bright Soul, the seal darkened as if it were being flooded with Void, spreading out from the point of contact with Ghost. The windstorm roared back to life with a new ferocity, tearing at their cloak as bits of grit were whipped through the air, stinging their exposed shell.

Ghost could feel fear emanating from Hollow’s near invisible form as their tallest sibling plunged their greatnail into the ground to anchor themself in the storm. Hornet was calling their names, her voice barely audible through the wind.

Ghost thought they could see the glint of Soul-lined silk zipping towards them, but the moment before it touched their outstretched arm the glowing strand blinked out of existence and Ghost was falling. Not the controlled descent of willingly jumping off a cliff with their borrowed wings ready to break their fall to a gentle stop, but the terrifying notion of falling down down down, zipping past tall shapes and they were back in that place and no they couldn’t be there, they had escaped, they were free, not freefalling towards their siblings' graves and their void was clenching painfully pushing ever outward against their shell into something greater but they couldn’t afford to lose themselves here of all places and –

Thud!

Ghost landed as they always did, hard but whole, and the unpleasant-sharp sensation of fear that had been threatening to tear them apart settled into something still unpleasant but more manageable. They sat up in total darkness, tapping the ground gently with their claws. It was reassuringly solid stone, not shifting mask fragments. If they weren’t in that place then where were they? And where was Hornet and Hollow? Their siblings had not fallen down here with them, had they? They could no longer hear the windstorm, as if it was shut off as quickly as it had started.

Pushing themself to their feet Ghost shifted through their void-pocket, happy to note that everything was still in its proper place before pulling out their lumafly lantern. The little bug quickly woke up and started buzzing around its glass enclosure, producing a mellow circle of light. Holding the lantern up revealed that they might not be in the Abyss, but they were in what appeared to be a pit of some sort with a spiraling ramp leading upwards around the circumference of the pit and evenly interspersed with statues.

Ghost examined the nearest statue. It was of an odd creature, tall but not nearly as tall as Hollow. It was unlike any bug or beast they had ever seen before. They glanced upwards into the darkness they had fallen from. It was impossible to see the exit from where they were at but they had to have fallen from somewhere, and their siblings would be looking for them. Ghost hesitantly lifted their hand to the carapace of their right shoulder before pressing down on the brand that marked their shell. They waited.

After a moment the brand buzzed with warmth and the void underneath it tingled. The King’s Brand might not give them insight onto the whereabouts of the other bearers of the mark but at least Hornet and Hollow were both able to respond. They both had to be alright. Ghost would just have to climb out of here and find them themself, no doubt with a very good apology otherwise their sister would not let them cuddle with her for at least a week.

They dashed over towards the ramp and by extension the wall, Mantis Claw in hand. There was no point in hanging around when all it would do would make their siblings worry for them, and they had done enough of that for a lifetime. Although it was odd that there was a pit this close to the Howling Cliffs that Hornet didn’t know about. This area should be directly above Unn’s territory yet Ghost couldn’t feel any of the sleeping goddess’s influence no matter how hard they strained their senses. But there was something else they could sense. Barely a blip to their new senses but approaching at an even pace. Ghost froze and ducked behind a statue.

It was odd. The approaching being was muted. Like Grimmchild, Ghost realized. A vessel of a higher being. Could they sense them in return? The Godseeker had called them the God of Gods, so were their senses different? Unn never seemed to react to their presence, but the sleeping goddess didn’t seem to react to anything anymore now that the Radiance was gone and she could dream freely. But Grimmchild had reacted to them differently once he saw them post ascension. Clipping the charm on had summoned the Nightmare Child in a panic, the newborn Vessel attempting to escape Ghost’s presence before he realized that the charm still tied him to Ghost. After, Grimmchild had been more than happy to stick close to Ghost until their recent molt and disappearance. Since the charm had disappeared, Ghost could only assume that Grimmchild had returned to the troupe, and only hope that their friend was safe since he was beyond their range to sense.

Perhaps this new presence was traveling towards them because they could sense the Lord of Shade’s presence. It would make sneaking past them difficult, but Ghost wasn’t sure if they were willing to test their abilities against an unknown and potentially hostile god. They didn’t want to start their reign the same way that He did, by making enemies with other gods and not coping with the consequences.

Before Ghost could do anything more than worry, the sound of woodwind pipes filled the air and a bright light opened in the wall at the base of the pit.

Sokka’s day already wasn’t off to the greatest of starts. First, Aang had tricked him into waking up via fabricated prickle snake. Then Aang had used his blubbered seal jerky to start last night’s fire. And while Airball had the potential to be a very entertaining sport, Sokka wasn’t an airbender, and he was really only qualified to be a spectator for this particular sport. Maybe a referee if someone would explain the rules to him better than Aang had, but the bruises weren’t winning the kid any favors. To top it all off Katara was going out of her way to hide the Fire Nation’s presence at the air temple. There was no way that was going to end well.

But now, in the creepy air temple sanctuary things were coming to a head. There was someone by the entrance to the sanctuary, their shadow stretched out between the statues he and Katara and Aang were crouching behind. The distinctive prongs of the shadow’s helmet left him with no question as to what or who was by the doorway.

Sokka had been too young to do anything when the Fire Nation raided the Southern Water Tribe as a kid. He’d been too young to join the men of the village when they left to assist in the war effort. He hadn’t been good enough to defend his people when the scar-faced fire jerk and his shipload of soldiers showed up to capture Aang. But he was a warrior. He had to be capable of taking down a single enemy, otherwise he couldn’t do anything.

“That firebender won’t know what hit him,” Sokka whispered before hefting his club, the leather creaking under his grip. Springing out from behind the statue, Sokka froze mid-motion. That was not a firebender. It wasn’t even an adult.

The child glanced back at him and froze. Backlit as it was its features were hard to make out. A bone white mask that covered its entire head with curving horns coming off the top. A dark cloak. A weapon of some sort strapped to its back. The top of the kid’s head wouldn’t even come up to Sokka’s waist.

“Who is that?” Katara poked her head out, followed immediately by Aang.

“Hey! Are you the person I’m supposed to meet here?” The moment Aang spoke up it was as if a spell lifted and the child turned and started moving away quickly.

“Who are you? Come back!” Aang said, jumping out from behind the statue and starting to run. Sokka jumped up after him. Someone had to look out for him if it turned out the child knew how to use that weapon.

The child darted away, making it out of the sanctuary and it turned into the hallway beyond. Sokka could just make out how it crouched down and the ground started to vibrate. Suddenly crystals shot out of the ground at its feet and the child launched away from Aang’s outstretched fingers and down the hallway away from them.

“Was that earthbending?” Sokka mumbled before trying to catch up to Aang as he tore down the hallway after the child. “Aang, get back here! We don’t know what he’s capable of!”

Apparently Aang wasn’t interested in being reasonable and waiting. Sokka barely registered the motion Aang made as an airbending move before he tripped over thin air and fell on his face. He let out a pained groan before attempting to push himself back to his feet. It looked like today definitely wasn’t going to be getting any better.

“Wait! I have some questions for you!” The little … creature Aang was chasing did not wait. Whatever strange bending it had been doing to propel itself stopped suddenly as the hallway opened up into a balcony and it slammed into the railing. That didn’t seem to do more than slow it down momentarily as the thing jumped up onto the railing and then off of it, falling out of view.

Aang didn’t even bother to slow down as he followed it over the edge. In fact, he distinctly remembered jumping off this particular balcony on a dare when he was younger and had just started his airbending training. The look on Monk Tashi’s face, and Monk Gyatso laughing behind his back, had made the punishment well worth it.

The wind stung his eyes on the way down, but it was refreshing and Aang had to squint to keep his target in sight. The creature was well ahead of him, having already reached the ground as nimble as an airbender. By the time Aang had touched down lightly the creature was standing on top of the cloth covered entrance to a dilapidated building. Aang stopped in confusion. The creature wasn’t looking at him, but up towards the sun with its odd sword-like weapon drawn at the ready, as if challenging an unseen enemy.

“Don’t look directly at the sun little buddy! It’ll hurt your eyes,” Aang called out and the creature turned to look at him. The creature’s mask was devoid of any detail save for the two darkened eyeholes that gave no hint of the face underneath. Aang couldn’t help but recoil slightly as they seemed to stare directly into his own soul, an odd buzzing reverberating just at the edges of his senses. Just as quickly, the creature turned away and jumped down through what must have been a hole in the roof and into the dilapidated structure. Aang could hear the tip-taping of its little feet as it darted away through the ruin.

“Come back! I just want to talk to you!” Aang brushed aside the threadbare curtain that was left hanging in the doorway before entering the antechamber and being met with another, slightly more intact curtain. He didn’t hesitate to push through that one as well. Perhaps he should have. But by then higher thoughts had left his mind and all Aang could feel was overwhelming grief.

Ghost didn’t stop running until they reached the edge of what turned out to be a very steep cliff. It seemed as if the other vessel couldn’t sense them in the way that they could. Perhaps they were a young vessel, like the Grimmchild was before they completed the ritual. But none of that really mattered right now because they weren’t where they were supposed to be. They should be just on the edge of Hallownest but this didn’t look anything like the wastes surrounding the kingdom. And maybe their memory of before was somewhat clouded, Ghost had forgotten that the sun wasn’t always a vengeful goddess determined to destroy her ancient enemy, but that didn’t change the fact that where they were now was not a place they could recall being before.

Ghost turned back and took in the unfamiliar architecture that occupied the rest of the mountaintop. It was completely foreign, with no sign that their siblings were nearby. However, there was a windstorm building up where they had lost sight of the strange looking vessel, and it was coinciding with a surge of power from the other higher being. It felt strange to Ghost’s other senses. It felt like sadness, but a certain kind of sadness, like staring at the mass grave of their siblings. It felt like grief.

Cautiously, Ghost made their way towards the epicenter of the windstorm and the surging power. The building they had dashed through was torn apart by the powerful winds. It wasn’t long before they could see the other vessel was suspended in midair, glowing from their eyes and markings with a light that was just a little too blue to be Soul-white. There were voices that shouting through the din, the words being tossed away and unintelligible. Peering through a hole in the wall Ghost could see two other creatures approaching the grieving vessel. Whatever they had said seemed to get through to them and the wind died down. One of the creatures embraced the vessel as the higher being’s aura retreated to a dull, aching presence.

The King’s Brand felt warm on their shoulder. They placed their hand on it and was rewarded with a pulsing warmth as Hornet tapped her own brand and the comforting tingle through their void from Hollow pressing down on theirs.

Ghost’s siblings were out there somewhere, separate, but alive and well enough to try and send comfort to each other. They needed to work on finding them. They needed to find a way back to Hallownest and the failing seals. Perhaps their best bet would be to see if another higher being could lead them in the right direction. And this vessel didn’t seem overly violent, just young and overwhelmed like Grimmchild was when something upset him, lashing out with fire, or in this case wind, at any who tried to approach him.

It was a place to start.

When Katara came to collect Aang he was back in the air temple sanctuary standing in front of the statue of Avatar Roku. The statue stared out impassively towards the new Avatar standing before it. Katara glanced at Sokka who just shrugged from where he was keeping an eye on Aang. She stopped just behind the airbender, giving him the chance to become aware of her presence. After a moment of him not reacting she spoke up.

“Everything’s packed. You ready to go?”

Aang took another moment before glancing back at her. “I don’t understand. Is Avatar Roku the one who was supposed to be waiting for me in here? He’s just a statue, I can’t talk to him. Or was it that little kid in the mask? They couldn’t have been waiting for me in here for the last hundred years, could they? Why did they run?”

Katara shook her head. “I don’t know. But I’m sure we’ll be able to figure it out. We can look for them some more before we leave if you want.”

“I think I’d like that,” Aang said before his expression fell, “But what if – I don’t think I can take seeing – I mean –”

She interrupted him before he could get all wound up again. “I’ll be with you the entire way. I’ll keep you grounded,” Katara said, laying a hand on Aang’s shoulder, giving him a gentle smile. The one she received in turn was halfhearted at best.

Sokka coughed, “Riiiiiight, I’m gonna go wait by Appa, see if we’ve got any food left.”

“C’mon. let’s get going.” Katara said, attempting to reign in the annoyance in her voice.

She led Aang through one last lap of the temple, making sure to check any rooms they walked into first to avoid a repeat of the situation earlier. More often than not the only evidence of the fire nation’s presence was scorched out rooms and charred remains that Katara quickly turned Aang away from. Sokka had been right. It really had been only a matter of time before Aang stumbled upon the undeniable truth that the Air Nomads had been wiped out.

As they systematically moved through the temple Katara felt an uneasy sensation that creeped up on her and only got stronger the longer they searched. Once they met up back in the landing area where Appa and Sokka were waiting Katara couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Aang, do you feel odd? Like maybe somebody is watching us?”

Aang frowned. “Well now that you mention it, yeah. There’s this odd buzzing right at the edges of my senses. Kinda like – Oh!”

Whatever Aang might have wanted to say next was interrupted by the sound of tiny footsteps approaching. Katara turned around to see the strange child from before and got her first good look at them.

The most immediate thing she noticed was the mask. It was bone-white with a pair of curved horns with slight prongs on the top. The mask had large, dark eyeholes that caried no trace of the glimmer of eyes peeping back out at them. It covered the child’s entire head and made them look a bit top heavy. The rest of their body was mostly covered in a deep blue cloak with frayed ends. There was what looked like four hand-carved pins of various materials that lined the cloak just under where it clasped together under the mask. The little bit of the child’s legs and feet that stuck out under the cloak were wrapped in a dark material that seemed to absorb the light. A weapon glinted from its place on the child’s back.

“Careful Aang, he’s armed,” Sokka’s voice was low as he approached the pair. Katara noted that his hand was on his boomerang.

“Hey there little guy. We’re not gonna hurt you.” Aang approached the child with his hands held up before gently kneeling in front of them. The child was small enough that they still had to tilt their head up to make eye contact with him. “I’m Aang. This is Katara and her brother Sokka,” he said nodding to the siblings in turn, “What’s your name?”

The child just stared up at him, empty eyes unblinking.

“Were you – Are you the one I was supposed to meet in the sanctuary?” Aang asked shyly.

The child stared for a moment longer before shaking their head.

“Oh.” Katara could see the way Aang deflated before perking back up. “Were you trapped in there?”

More staring. Katara was getting a weird feeling from the child, like it was something else entirely hidden under the mask. Sokka didn’t seem to feel the same way as he moved forward to stand next to where Aang was still kneeling. “Come on little guy, can’t you answer his questions? Say something!”

The child visibly shifted their head to stare at Sokka who twitched back in surprise at being the focus of those two empty eyeholes. They continued to stare for a moment before a tiny hand, covered in the same dark material reached out and tapped at the bottom of the mask below the eyeholes where a mouth should be. Katara felt a lurch in her stomach.

“I don’t think they can talk.” Katara stiffened as the child turned their head towards her before nodding. The expressionless mask was more than a little creepy.

“Can’t talk, huh?” Aang kept his tone light and friendly, “Well then, we’ll just have to ask yes or no questions. Do you need help?”

A nod.

“Are you lost?”

The child held still before slowly shaking their head.

“Not lost then. Are you looking for someone?”

A vigorous nod.

“So they’re lost! And you need help finding them?”

Another quick nod.

Aang leaned back and glanced at Katara and Sokka before turning back to the child. “Can we help you find them?”

The child stared for a moment before pulling something out from beneath its cloak. Katara took a few steps closer to get a better look. It was a piece of paper with a drawing on it, done with decent artistic talent if a little unrealistic. One of the figures was obviously the child themselves, the horns on the drawn mask matching theirs perfectly. The other two figures were taller, one towering above the other and both had masks with similar curving horns on them.

Katara spoke up first. “Are those your parents?”

A vicious shake of their head before pointing first at Katara and then at Sokka.

“Oh! They’re your siblings?”

A nod.

“You’re looking for your siblings. Do you have any idea where they could be?” Aang asked.

A slow shake of their head before tucking the drawing back under their cloak.

“Well,” Aang continued, “we’re travelling to the North Pole right now. We’ll be passing through a lot of different places. Maybe you can travel with us and see if you can’t find them wherever we go?”

“Whoa hold on a second Aang. Can I talk to you for a minute?” Sokka didn’t wait for an answer before pulling Aang back to where Katara was still standing and forcing them into a small group huddle. “Are you kidding me? We can’t just go around picking up stray kids wherever we go! We’re trying to get to the north pole so you guys can find a waterbending master, not for sightseeing.”

“We can’t just leave them here! They’re just a kid!” Aang complained.

“Yeah, a weird kid. Have you ever seen anyone wearing a mask like that before?” Sokka talked right over whatever Aang tried to interject, “Besides, I thought I saw them earthbend earlier.”

“Really? I thought it looked more like firebending,” Aang said.

Sokka’s hand came up to cradle his head. “That’s even better reason to not trust him!”

“Not all firebenders can be bad, Sokka. I had friends in the Fire Nation before. And besides, they’re just a kid!”

Sokka burst out in frustration before breaking the huddle. “Fine! Whatever! He can come, but he’s got to pull his own weight.”

“Don’t listen to him little guy, he’s just being mean because he’s hungry,” Aang flashed the child a smile.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be if someone didn’t use my blubbered seal jerky as kindling!”

Katara watched as the child tilted their head at Sokka before pulling something else out from underneath their cloak. It was something wrapped in white fabric and the child waved it at her brother until he cautiously took it. “What’s this?” Sokka unwrapped it to reveal what looked like cured meat of some sort. He took a cautious sniff before shoving the entire thing in his mouth, making disgusting noises all the while. “Alright, he can stay.”

A second later Sokka jumped back with a yelp as the child drew their weapon and pointed it at them, all the while tapping their chest with their free hand and shaking their head vigorously.

“What did I do? Was it something I said?”

Katara sighed, “Sokka, I don’t think they’re male.”

Sokka looked the child over critically “So you’re a girl then?”

The child shook their head again, but they lowered their weapon somewhat.

“Then what are you?” Sokka said with a raised eyebrow.

“I think they just are. Can’t you feel it too? There’s almost an energy coming off of them. Like during a storm right before lightning strikes.” Aang looked at her for back up, but Katara just shrugged. She couldn’t feel anything other than a slight uneasiness after being near the child for so long. “I don’t – I think, I mean, are you a spirit?”

The child sheathed their weapon and started to shake their head before pausing and nodding it instead.

“No? Yes?” The child tapped their chest repeatedly again.

“What are you trying to say? You’re kinda a spirit?” Sokka asked with disbelief.

Katara took in the odd child, and their constant tapping. She took a guess. “Is Spirit your name?”

The child froze before wavering from side to side.

“Spirit is close to your name?” A nod.

Katara thought for a second. “What’s close to spirit? Soul? Ghost?”

The child jumped up and down in excitement, surprisingly high, making it all the way up to her eye level at the peak of their jump.

“Your name is Ghost?” Aang asked to confirm, met with vigorous nodding.

Sokka snorted “A creepy name for a creepy kid. Ow!”

“Don’t be mean Sokka,” Katara said, lowering her hand.

“I’m not being mean I’m being truthful!”

“Ignore him. That’s just how he normally is,” Katara said with a shake of her head. Aang stepped in front of her, grinning.

“Welcome to the team, Ghost! We’ll be traveling in style via flying bison. Meet my very good friend Appa!”

Appa, who had been waiting very patiently this entire time, turned his head and sniffed at Ghost as they approached, allowing the small child to pat his nose when they stood up on tip toe to reach.

“Alright everyone, all aboard!” Aang said, waving them up as he airbended himself up to Appa’s reigns.

“Do you need help getting up?” Katara asked Ghost as they looked up at the bison that towered above them. Ghost shook their head before taking a step back and jumping much higher than they had earlier, sailing cleanly over Katara’s head. At the peak of their jump there was a flash of white light that propelled them even further into the air and they gently dropped into Appa’s saddle. A second later their mask popped over the edge to stare down at her as if asking, what’s the hold up?

“You know, I’m starting to think that child might actually be a spirit,” Sokka whispered to her.  

“At least they’re a friendly one,” She whispered back.

“Spirit or not, do you think they have any more food?”

“You could try asking nicely,” Katara threw over her shoulder as she carefully climbed up Appa and into the saddle. Ghost turned to look at her briefly before looking back out into the distance. Katara noticed the way their cloak bulged out a little bit around their shoulders as if they were hugging themself. Maybe they really were a lost spirit. She’d seen weirder things in the past week.

Chapter Text

It became quickly apparent to Ghost that the land they were in now was full of beasts rather than bugs. After a little bit of snooping they figured out that despite the differences between them, Aang and the siblings were probably the same species. Their colorful carapaces were actually just well fitted clothing; there was no hard shell over any part of them. Just soft flesh that they had been careful to not puncture with their claws when Katara had given them some food and their hands had brushed.

And that was another thing. Their traveling companions did not seem to realize that they were not a creature like them. They kept insisting on handing them food that they could not eat, and Ghost couldn’t seem to communicate to them that they did not need it. They had taken to accepting the offered food and hiding it under their cloak until no one was looking and then they’d sneak it back into the supplies.

Katara and Aang were very kind to them from the start, talking to them and including them in conversations, and as always, they were an excellent listener. They also were able to work some type of Soul magic that Ghost had witnessed – at least to some extent. Katara could manipulate water poorly; she was desperately in need of a shaman or some other teacher to help refine her spells. Aang could use his Soul magic to manipulate the wind and appeared to be very good at it. Ghost wondered if the Higher Being they were attached to was some sort of God of Storms.

Sokka was the odd one out. Unable to use any Soul, he seemed to pride himself in being a warrior of sorts with the many weapons Ghost had seen on him. He reminded Ghost of Tiso. Prickly, confident in his abilities whether or not it was merited, and dismissive of other people’s ability. But there was one major difference. Sokka kept calling them the wrong thing. Ghost had hoped that Sokka’s respect towards them would increase after they had joined him on a hunting excursion and proved their worth by easily taking down some of the small feeder-beasts of the land, but it didn’t seem to work. Half the time Sokka would call them the right thing, but half the time he wouldn’t. It was galling. They couldn’t understand what they would have to do to gain Sokka’s respect.

The bugs of Hallownest never had this issue, but then again Hornet said that they did not smell like any gender. They weren't sure what exactly Hornet meant with that, but they trusted her. 

The biggest benefit from the hunting trip was that they were able to refill their Soul reserves. The small fleshy critters had gone down so easily to their nail Ghost became worried enough to remove their Unbreakable Strength charm, lest they accidently kill one of the poorly protected beasts of the surface that they did not intend to.

But with open notches they had been able to put on their Wayward Compass charm and Sokka was kind enough to lay a map out in the saddle that they had commandeered. It wasn’t as detailed of their own map that they and Cornifer had made of Hallownest but Ghost could tell that it covered a larger area than the fallen kingdom did.

They traced their current location and path with a claw, staunchly ignoring the arguing siblings in the saddle with them and trying hard to not think of Hornet and Hollow. They were covering a lot of ground. Mostly over water, but still, that was space they would have a hard time traversing by themself. Swimming in the open ocean would be much harder than the placid waters of the Blue Lake, and there were probably plenty of creatures that would delay them by trying to eat them.

Ghost glanced up just in time to step out of the way of the ripped pair of pants Katara threw at her brother. They shook a claw at her and she was chastised enough apologize.

“Sorry Ghost, I wasn’t aiming for you.”

Sokka spluttered from under the pants that had smacked him in the face. “Wait! I was just kidding! I can’t wear these! Katara, please!”

“Relax, Sokka. Where we’re going you won’t need any pants,” Aang called back from where he was steering Appa on the bison’s head, sending the group into a gentle decent towards what appeared to be an island in the distance.

Ghost shook their head ever so slightly before making their way to Sokka and grabbing a leg of his torn pants before turning around and going to Katara, the claws on their feet digging lightly into the leather of the saddle to prevent them from being jostled off. They held their hand out to Katara and after a moment she held up the needle and thread she had been using. “You want this?” Ghost gave a single nod. “Alright, here you go.”

Ghost closed their fist around the tiny bone needle before sitting down and deftly threading it. Moving the pants to reveal the partially mended hole Ghost set about finishing stitching it up. Hornet would be so much better at this, her stitches neater and evenly sized, but she had so much more experience with weaving than Ghost did. The King’s Brand tingled on their carapace, and Ghost paused their mending for a second to brush it back. I’m still here, they tried to think towards their missing siblings.

“See Sokka? Even Ghost knows how to sew.”

“Yeah, yeah. Good for him,” Sokka said dismissively, waving his hand. Ghost’s hand clenched on the bone needle and they turned to stare at him with their best impression of Hornet’s I’m going to kill you slowly glare. They feared the affect might be somewhat diminished because of their grub-like mask.

“It’s them Sokka. You could at least make an attempt to not upset the spirit child, especially when they’re doing you a favor,” Katara said with her own glare.

Sokka looks a little cowed. “Sorry Ghost. It’s just – I mean – Oof!” He pulled the mended pants off his face from where Ghost had forcefully sent them. “I’ll stop talking now.”

Ghost didn’t like the feeling curling in their void at the base of their abdomen. Something about being misgendered hurt in a way completely different from falling in a pit of spikes or being smacked around by a nail. They could just heal those aches away with gathered Soul. At least the bugs of Hallownest were conditioned to used neutral pronouns for those who used them. The beasts of the surface seemed to not share the same manners.

Ghost tried to put it behind them for now. They were approaching the island Aang wanted to visit. Ghost’s search for their siblings was about to start again.

Aang was very excited about the elephant koi. Not that there was anything wrong with that, Katara thought the elephant koi were beautiful and didn’t seem to mind too much that Aang was hanging onto their fins. She wished that he would be a little more motivated to reaching the North Pole, but in a way his behavior made some sense. He had been trapped in ice for the last one hundred years and hadn’t been exposed to the horrors of war that the rest of the world had endured. Then again, the Southern Air Temple had been a rude awakening. Perhaps he had come to Kyoshi Island before and was trying to relive a childhood memory as a distraction. She couldn’t fault him for that.

“He looks pretty good out there,” she said, glancing at her brother.

“Are you kidding? The fish is doing all the work,” Sokka said dismissively. Katara was about to interject when Appa made a sort of snuffling and tearing sound from behind her.

Katara wasn’t sure exactly what the giant bison was getting into, but she was sure that it wouldn’t be good for him. “No, Appa! Don’t eat that!” By the time she reached the bushes Appa had been pawing at he had stopped and was staring up into the tree next to it. Following the sky bison’s gaze, she was surprised to see Ghost peering down at her from the highest point of the leafless branches. “What the – how did you get up there?”

Ghost just stared down at her for a moment before waving.

“C’mon, get down here before you hurt yourself!” How on earth was someone so small able to climb up there so fast? They weren’t even tall enough to reach the bottommost branch, and their arms weren’t long enough to wrap around the trunk of the tree and shimmy up.

Ghost looked out for a moment before turning back to look down at her and launching themself out of the tree. Katara barely managed to get her arms up in time to try and break their fall, catching them under their armpits. They were surprisingly light, lighter than the children from her village of the same size. And they were cool to the touch. Katara faintly wondered if they would need to get Ghost something more insulated to wear other than the cloak they never took off and the dark outfit she had yet to get a good look at underneath.

“Are you alright?” Katara asked, shifting her grip on the child so she was supporting them rather than just letting them dangle. Ghost reached out and softly patted her cheek, staring at her with a blank expression. Katara’s eyes itched. After a moment they pushed themself out of her grip and landing lightly next to her. They grabbed the hem of her coat and tugged lightly, pointing back towards the beach. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she mumbled, following the smaller figure as they ran back towards where she’d left Sokka.

By the time she reached the beach she realized why Ghost was trying to rush her. Something was in the water besides the koi. She and Sokka started shouting and waving with Ghost joining them by jumping up and down trying to get Aang’s attention. Katara could only watch in horror as a fin the size of a glacier breached the water behind Aang and as the young airbender practically ran across the surface to escape it before plowing directly into Sokka. Sparing a final glance at the retreating form in the water, Katara ran over to check on the boys.

“What was that thing?” She asked after stopping next to them.

“I don’t know,” Aang said with his head stuck in his shirt as he redressed.

Sokka stood up and clapped his hands together. “Well, let’s not stick around to find out. Time to hit the road.”

And that was when they were ambushed.

Sokka was supposed to be a warrior. Sokka was supposed to be able to protect his kid sister. Fights were not supposed to end before they even started, so how was this one already over? His ambusher had him around the arms, tied up, and blindfolded before he could even make more than a startled gasp. Around him he could hear similar sounds from Katara and Aang as they were taken just as easily as he was. Sokka was shoved roughly and fell face-first into the sand, the wind knocked out of him and for a moment the only thing he could do was desperately try and inhale.

There were more noises, sand crunching as the ambushers moved around him, and then there was the sound of weapons clashing. Could that be Ghost? The kid was standing away from them when the ambushers attacked, did he – no – they escape the initial rush? Sokka had seen them use their weird sword thing to hunt and based on the sounds of combat he could hear now they actually knew how to fight too.

“What’s going on?” Aang loudly whispered from somewhere behind him.

Something shifted beside him. “I think they’re fighting Ghost,” Katara whispered back, flinching at the sound of metal on metal.

There was a sharp crack of displaced air and the sound of something shattering. Someone let out a yelp. Sokka strained himself in the direction, trying to piece together what was happening. Suddenly someone grabbed him roughly by the wolf tail and pulled him up by the hair. Sokka stiffened as something sharp was placed on his neck.

“Yield,” a girl’s voice called out, “Or your friend here gets it.”

Everything went silent. Sokka could hear his own heartbeat in his throat. He had offended Ghost on more than one occasion. He had antagonized Ghost on more than one occasion. Ghost was not the most expressive of beings, what with the whole mask covering the entire head thing, but he had seen the way the kid had hunched in on themself when he had misgendered them earlier. Would the kid hold it against him? Sokka didn’t know. The kid was almost impossible to get a good read on.

The hand gripping his hair tightened.

Sokka couldn’t hear anything.

“Good choice,” the voice from earlier finally said, breaking the silence and the pressure at his throat disappeared at the same moment the grip on his hair did.

Sokka swallowed shakily. He didn’t know what to think. “I guess we can stay awhile,” he mumbled out.

The cheerful mood of the village didn’t really suit Sokka right now. They may be celebrating the Avatar’s presence in the village, but he didn’t feel the need to lap up the attention like Aang appeared to be doing. Something about the encounter yesterday had stung him.

He wasn’t pouting. He wasn’t. No, what he needed was to get a decent workout in. It had been a while since his last training session, as the back of a flying bison wasn’t the best place to swing a club around or to throw his trusty boomerang from. And even with their pitstops there wasn’t always time to do more than set up camp, eat, and pass out. He was a little rusty, that was the only reason those girls had been able to get the jump on him yesterday.

As he slunk out of the house that they had spent the night in, he caught a glimpse of white. There was Ghost, darting from villager to villager holding up what Sokka recognized to be the drawing of his – no, their – siblings. The kid had wandered off earlier in the morning heading towards the port but seeing them now just made Sokka’s stomach turn in a way that did not agree with all the gifted food he had just eaten. He owed them. A lot.

Instead of approaching them, Sokka turned away from the sight of Ghost holding their drawing up to a new villager and pointing at the figures inked onto it. He needed that workout bad. Wandering up the main road of the village further inland it wasn’t long before he came across a dojo where the girls from before were training. He watched them for a moment longer before his stomach twisted up again. Ignoring it, he put a little smirk on his face and entered the dojo. He could show them.

“Sorry, ladies. Didn’t mean to interrupt your dance lesson. I was just looking for somewhere to get a little workout,” he said, starting to stretch.

“Well, you’re in the right place,” the leader girl (what was her name?) said, “Sorry about yesterday. We don’t usually take kindly to outsiders and your little friend was proving to be very adept with combat. I felt I had no choice but to threaten you or else they would injure one of my warriors.”

Sokka was caught off guard for a moment with the revelation that it was this girl in particular that had held him at knifepoint yesterday (or maybe it was fan-point. The edges on those things looked sharp), but immediately tried to play it off. “It’s all right. I mean, normally I’d hold a grudge, but seeing as you guys are a bunch of girls, I’ll make an exception.”

The girl – Suki, yes that was her name – gave him an odd look before coyly tilting her head. “I should hope so. A big, strong man like you, we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“True, but don’t feel bad. After all, I’m the best warrior in my village.”

“Wow. Best warrior, huh? In your whole village? Maybe you’d be kind enough to give us a little demonstration.” There was challenge in her eyes. Sokka could almost hear a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Katara screaming ‘THIS IS A TRAP’, but there was no way he was going to back down and let them think he was scared of a bunch of girls.

Which was probably why it stung so much worse when Suki handed his ass to him immediately twice in a row while the Kyoshi warriors behind her laughed. Cheeks burning, Sokka slunk out of the dojo only for Suki to call out after him, “If you see your little friend tell them to swing by sometime. We want to see some of their moves.”

There was something very nice about the people of Kyoshi that Aang couldn’t quite put his finger on. The village girls were absolutely delighted by every airbending trick he pulled off, from the spinning marbles to no-handed pushups. None of those tricks had seemed particularly impressive back in the air temple growing up, but with no other airbenders around the tricks became completely new to everyone. It was a bittersweet feeling, but their amazement made it a lot better.

He had never wanted to be the Avatar, not when it had meant the special treatment the monks at the Southern Air Temple had given him, or the way the other children had treated him. Only Monk Gyatso had stood up for him, tried to let him just be a kid for as long as possible. But that was long ago now, even if it only felt like a few weeks ago.

Here, on the isolated Kyoshi Island, being the Avatar didn’t seem like such a bad thing. The pressures and expectations people kept wanting to put on him seemed far off. He could afford to have some fun and goof off for a few more days, no matter what Katara said.

It took a while for Sokka to build up the nerve to head back to the dojo, but when he got there, he ended up pausing just before he entered and ducked behind the doorframe. His stomach dropped, because not only were the Kyoshi warriors all still in there, but at some point Ghost had joined them. From his hidden spot Sokka could see that the warriors were all standing to the side of where Ghost stood, the kid with their weapon in hand and facing a wooden training dummy. They seemed to gather themself for a moment before they swung their weapon with a familiar crack of displaced air. Sokka could barely track the movement, but the dummy partially fell over; it had been cleaved in half.

The warriors all clapped, the general sounds of amazement drifting over to him. Sokka could distinctly hear one of them say “Wow. I’m glad you broke my fan instead of my hand when we fought you earlier.”

Sokka took a deep breath. He couldn’t be a coward for this. He had messed up. It was time to own up to it. Sokka pushed himself out of his hiding place and into the dojo. The gathered warriors turned to look at him. Ghost stared at him. Sokka’s eyes felt dry.

“Uh, hey Suki. Ghost.”

“Hoping for another ‘dance lesson’?” She said with just a hint of vindictive glee in her voice.

“No, I – Let me explain.” Ghost tilted his, no damn it! Their! head to the side.

“Spit it out. What do you want?”

Sokka dropped to his knees and into a bow, his intestines twisted in shame. “I owe both of you an apology. I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. It was unacceptable.”

Suki stared at him for a moment before waving the other Kyoshi Warriors away. She waited just long enough for them to leave the dojo before posing her question. “I know what you did to us earlier but what did you do to Ghost?”

“I keep – slipping up. I know how they prefer to be called and I just keep messing it up. I can’t promise that it won’t happen again, but I can promise that I will try to do better.”

Sokka wasn’t able to make eye contact with Ghost as the kid moved towards him and only glanced at them as they reached up to tap his face. Looking into the achingly empty eyes hurt a bit, but Ghost simply patted his cheek and stepped away.

“Is that apology accepted? Just like that?” It couldn’t be that easy.

Ghost nodded. Apparently it was, but Sokka didn’t feel much better. Perhaps when he could measure his own improvement he might be able to forgive himself. Ghost was staring at him still, before tilting their head towards Suki, who was standing upright with her arms crossed.

Sokka cleared his throat. “And I shouldn’t have assumed that just because you are girls I would be a better warrior than you. I was wrong to do so.”

“Yes, you were,” she said evenly.

 Sokka pushed himself back down into his bow, unable to meet her eyes. “I would be honored if you would teach me how to be a better warrior.”

“We normally don’t teach outsiders, let alone boys,” she started and Sokka winced.

“Please make an exception. I won’t let you down.”

He risked glancing up to see her considering him. “All right, but you have to follow all of our traditions.”

He couldn’t believe it. “Of course.”

“And I mean all of them.”

Sokka wasn’t sure if he liked that look on Suki’s face. It looked a little too vindictive to him, but Ghost was jumping with what could only be described as glee next to her.

The makeup he could get behind. It was similar to the water tribe warpaint he was used to, just with more red and less grey. But the armored kimono felt odd compared to the lightweight armor he was used to. Kind of like he would be fighting in a women’s style coat. Which it kind of was, but also not really.

Ghost had been very keen to get to join in the training too, but because of their small size Suki had given them a green scarf which they wrapped around their original cloak. Carefully, they sorted through their pockets before pinning some of the strange charms they had been previously wearing to their new cloak. There were five in total now, three of which were completely new.

They looked up at him and held up the tasseled headdress before pointing a tiny hand at their head. Their mask was too big for them to get their arms around and tie the headpiece in place.

“Yeah, I got you kid,” Sokka said before kneeling down and taking the piece from their outstretched hand. They held so still for him it was hard to tell if they were breathing. Sokka felt a shiver go down his spine.

“Are you both ready to begin? Good.” Suki positioned his grip on the war fans that came with his outfit and set them up doing basic movements.

Eventually the kimono got easier to move around with, the unfamiliar weight no longer being a true hinderance.

“You’re not gonna master it in one day. Even I’m not that good.”

“I think I’m starting to get it. At least better than Ghost is.” Ghost had given up following the movements Suki had taught them and was sitting by the wall, repeatedly opening and closing a fan as if mesmerized by the motion.

Sokka continued his movement until he released the fan, sending it out the doorway and careening into a tree, knocking the snow down from its branches.

Suki smiled. “It’s not about strength. Our technique is about using your opponent’s force against them. We turn our enemies’ own attacks into the openings we need to retaliate against them. Ghost is too small to truly be affective with it. When we fought them earlier their style was all about dodging and maneuvering around attacks until they found an opening.” She turned to where ghost was now watching them. “Can I see your blade?”

Ghost tilted their head for a moment before jumping up and unsheathing their weapon, holding it up for Suki to take.

“Thank you,” she said before lifting it out of the kid’s hands and at a better height for herself and Sokka to examine.

It was intricately crafted with lines of pattern running down its length. Unlike a sword, it was more conical in shape without sharp edges. All together it was shorter than Sokka’s forearm, but more than half Ghost’s body length. The tip came to a sharp point.

“It’s well made, but more impressive is the amount of damage they can do with it. They sliced cleanly through a war fan, not just along the wooden part but through the metal. They make the hits they do get in count while mostly dodging around their enemy's attacks. Here you go,” she said, returning the weapon to Ghost’s grabbing hands and pulling out her own fan. “When it comes to the Kyoshi warrior techniques, you need to loosen up some. Think of the fan as an extension of your arm. Wait for an opening to come to you and – oof!” That last sound came from Suki as Sokka grabbed her oncoming wrist and shoulder-checked her into the ground.

Sokka straightened up in shock and was surprised to hear a light tapping sound. Ghost was clapping.

“I fell on purpose to make you feel better!”

“I got you! Admit I got you!” Sokka was sure that Suki had blushed there for a moment beneath the white face paint.

“Okay, it was a lucky shot,” Ghost’s clapping turned mocking as Suki employed a painful hold on Sokka’s outstretched fingers. “Let’s see if you can do it again.”

Sokka shook out his stinging fingers before taking on a defensive stance. Things were starting to get more interesting, and he had no intention of going down again without a proper fight.

Watching Suki train Sokka was fun. Even if it was mostly just Suki beating Sokka up, the boy was visibly improving, at least in deflecting incoming attacks. The fighting style of the war fans did not translate well to the nail, but the fans were fun to mess around with. Ghost had already popped a fan into their void pocket for later and was contemplating taking the second one as well when the village leader rushed into the dojo’s doorway.

“Firebenders have landed on our shores. Girls, come quickly!” He shouted but Ghost was already rushing after him and Suki as they fled the dojo. There was enough urgency in his voice and Suki's reaction to make them concerned. Whatever a firebender was it did not sound like anything good.

By the time they got to the village proper the other Kyoshi warriors were moving into vantage points and between buildings. Apparently, ambushes were their preferred way to start a fight. It took a single flap of the Monarch Wings and a quick Mantis Claw hook to get themself up on the roof of one of the village houses. The warrior already on the roof spared them a glance before returning her focus onto the four beasts slowly riding into the main village. Three of the beasts had two riders, the fourth one only one – a person with a strange discoloring on half their face and was likely the leader of the group if Ghost was to go off their armor. Some hidden cue was given and the Kyoshi warriors jumped into action. The warrior next to him took a running leap off the roof and took down a rider on the beast below with the help of another warrior. Suki, with her distinctive headpiece charged between the beasts and went straight for their leader. The leader sent out a blast of Soul magic in the form of fire. So that must be what a firebender was.

Ghost frowned to themself. The fire was so dull compared to Grimm’s scarlet flames, but not as tightly controlled as the Troop Master or Nightmare King’s attacks were. The building next to them caught fire. Grimm would never stand for such disorder in his choreographed attacks.

Suki was knocked out of her attack by the beast’s tail and Sokka just barely managed to deflect the leader’s retaliatory flames. Before he could regroup and attack again Ghost decided to intervene.

In a move reminiscent of the Mantis Lords, Ghost threw the fan they were still holding on to in an arc that collided with the leader’s head and knocking their helmet askew. Now they had a choice for follow up attacks while the leader was staggered. They could either launch off a Shaman Stone empowered spell or a quick nail art. But there was a problem. Before, when traversing the infected depths of Hallownest Ghost had never hesitated to cut down the wandering husks or the Light-ensnared pests that filled the caverns. Most of the Husks were too far gone to ever wake up again and Ghost couldn’t bring themself to feel pity for the smaller creatures after the third time a Squit knocked them into an acid pool.

But that all changed when they reached the Fungal Wastes. The first Mantis they had encountered had seen them and immediately attacked them with precise movements that should have alerted Ghost to the truth. It was only after their old, beat-up nail broke through the Mantis’ thorax did they realize the warrior was not infected with the pulsing orange goo of Her.

The feeling of living chitin and flesh bursting under their nail, the shocked scream of pain, it had engraved itself into their memory, and they had spent the rest of their painful adventure in the Mantis Village dodging and parrying attacks until they challenged the Lords and earned their Respect. They wouldn’t back down from a challenge as it was presented, but they had no desire to destroy an entire population just because they took offense at Ghost’s outsider presence.

No, Ghost didn’t want to senselessly murder anyone, they simply needed information before deciding whether or not lethal force was necessary.

This firebender wasn’t infected. Ghost wasn’t sure what would happen if they went all out in attack. Sure, they were wearing armor, but it wasn’t pale ore. The Great Slash they had used earlier on the Kyoshi warrior had destroyed the weapon she had tried to parry it with, there was no telling if the leader’s armor would break just as easily, and the surface beasts had no natural shells to protect them from instant death. Honestly it was a surprise there was so many of them alive, they were so fragile.

Decision made, Ghost focused and jumped off the roof into a well-executed Dash Slash, timing their attack so the sharp point of their nail sliced through the strap holding the saddle of the leader. The crack of displaced air startled the beast and it reared, sending the leader sprawling to the ground. Within seconds Suki, Sokka, and another Kyoshi warrior had them surrounded.

Their advantage didn’t last long as the leader spun themself upright in a flaming nail-less version of the Cyclone Slash. They leapt to the center of the village road and called out. “Nice try, Avatar. But these little girls can’t save you.”

Ghost glanced around. The rest of the Kyoshi warriors seemed to have the remaining attackers more or less distracted, albeit the village itself was taking a lot of collateral damage. Wooden structures tended to burn easily.

The leader was a facing away from them and somehow hadn’t noticed Ghost yet. They probably wouldn’t get another chance like this if the leader were to turn around and finally see them. Time to see what exactly they were facing. Ghost pulled out the Dream Nail and let their essence flow into it, alighting the ethereal tool. Swiping it through the legs of the leader let thoughts flow freely into their mind.

To regain my honor … I won’t let anything stop me!

It didn’t seem very honorable to burn down a village. And that last bit was a little too similar to Him for Ghost’s comfort. There were always costs too great.

Ghost drew their nail again. There wasn’t any need to hold back this time. The leader must have noticed the flash of light from the Dream Nail, as they were starting to turn around.

“Hey! Over Here!” The leader’s attention snapped back the other way. Aang was standing at the other end of the village, glider staff held out in a way that commanded attention. Ghost briefly met his eyes and just barely could make out the way Aang tilted their head towards the nearby burning buildings. Did he want to take on the leader himself? Perhaps they had met before and Aang now had a vendetta. Ghost could understand that. They had personally tracked down and killed as many infected Flukes as they could after the Flukemarm incident.

Ghost decided to stand down and dashed away to retreat back to a non-burning roof. With Aang’s Soul powered wind magic the battle was over within seconds.

After Aang’s impromptu dip into the water and Unagi wrestling and subsequent return to Appa he was just wanted to lie down and rest for a little while. Despite being forced to retreat he had still managed to find a way to help prevent the village from burning down. He knew it was his fault the village was attacked in the first place, and he knew it would become another weight hanging over his head. Katara might think he did the right thing, but he felt it barely made up for what he had caused in the first place.

His plan to curl up and mope about it was interrupted by a gentle tapping on his leg. Ghost was sitting right at his feet, staring at him intently. Aang blinked rapidly. The spirit child stopped tapping his leg and reached up to tap the left side of their mask, just under the eyehole.

“What’s up, Ghost? Is something up with your eye?”

Ghost shook their head, then started tracing a circle around their eyehole as if drawing out – oh!

“Are you asking about Zuko?”

A hesitant nod, then a tilt of the head to the side.

“He’s that firebender jerk that’s been chasing us since we left the South Pole. He wants to capture Aang and take him back to the Fire Nation,” Sokka said, struggling to pull the Kyoshi Warrior kimono off his head. Ghost turned to look at him before tilting their head the other way. When Sokka managed to free his head, he blinked at spirit child. “You know, the Fire Nation? The people responsible for the war?”

Ghost tilted their head back the other way again.

“You don’t know about the war?!? The Great War? The one that’s been going on for the last hundred years?”

Ghost shook their head.

“Where in the world have you been living, Ghost? Under a rock?”

Ghost paused for a second before nodding.

“Oh,” Sokka said softly, looking completely bewildered and glancing at Aang for help. All Aang could do was shrug. It wasn’t like he was super familiar with everything that had happened in the past hundred years; he had been stuck in a glacier up until last week.  

“Maybe we should start from the beginning,” Katara said, scooting closer to Ghost as they turned to look at her. “There used to be four nations. The Water Tribe, The Earth Kingdom, the Fire Nation, and the Air Nomads. Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation Attacked.”

Chapter Text

By this point Aang was convinced that Ghost was not human. The little one was cold, but not in a way that seemed to harm them in any way. No, they were cold in a way that seemed to absorb the heat around them, mostly noticeable when they decided to sit close to him. Aang was used to sensing air currents that came with the heat of living creatures. Ghost did not produce heat as far as he could tell, just an odd negative pressure that danced on the edge of his awareness, like the feeling of an oncoming storm. Aang would feel a headache coming on every time he stared at Ghost for too long.

But being questionably alive didn’t seem to slow Ghost down. They oscillated wildly between serious intensity and childlike actions. In every village or town they stopped at to resupply Ghost would immediately run off and show the drawing of their family to everyone they could find. Sometimes they would just stare into the distance or down into their lap for hours on end, dark swathed limbs tucked under their cloak, the occasional shift in direction they were looking the only hint that they weren’t truly asleep. Aang had caught them doing it at night too, when Katara and Sokka were asleep in their bedrolls and he would be snuggled up to Appa, Ghost would perch themself in a high spot and keep watch.

And sometimes they would act exactly like the child their size implied they were. Ghost would jump up and down (and sometimes over Aang’s head) with the grace of an excited airbender for any of the little things that brought them joy. Aang swore he saw a set of shining, gossamer thin wings that would flash out from under their cloak and give them a little bit of extra height in their jumps. They would often pick up random objects of interest like rocks or leaves that would later disappear and Aang had to wonder where they all went since Ghost didn’t carry a bag of their own. Aang had witnessed them chasing around butterflies and playing around with some shining stones that they pulled out of somewhere. Aang had even seen them try to pay for something from a vendor with them. The woman had laughed at the childish antics, and then handed over the small carved wooden beetle that they had been interested in. The second vendor they had tried that with had thrown the stones back into their face and called them a scammer.

Perhaps Ghost was some sort of spirit guide, meant to help him on his journey to become a fully realized Avatar. They had been waiting in the Air Temple Sanctuary. Or perhaps because Aang had been frozen for so long the original spirit guide had moved on and Ghost was left to wait for them. Could spirits die? Aang couldn’t recall the monks ever mentioning if that was possible. Or maybe Ghost’s family members were the ones who would be able to help him. Aang definitely felt like he could use some help about this whole Avatar thing.

Aang reached down and patted Appa’s head from where he was sitting at the front of the saddle before shifting to lie down fully.

“It’s just you and me, buddy. We’re all that’s left of the Air Nomads,” he whispered, burying his head in Appa’s fluff. It was comforting to have his first friend still with him, but Aang desperately wished that he had someone he could talk to, and could talk back to him about his past, or his future. Destiny seemed to hang heavy over his head. Sooner rather than later he would have to take it by the reigns.

There was a pressure at the edge of his senses. Glancing up, Aang could see Ghost staring at him from their perch on the edge of the saddle. They tilted their head at him. Perhaps through their spirit magic they could sense some of his emotional turmoil. Aang sat up and patted the space next to him. “Hey there little buddy, come and sit with me.”

Ghost immediately hopped down from the saddle with none of the care someone who knew they were flying a mile above the surface usually had and settled down next to Aang. They leaned forward and curiously peered at the snowcapped mountain peaks that were all around them.  

“It’s nice up here, isn’t it?” Ghost turned to look at him and nodded. “It’s always peaceful to see the world from the back of a sky bison.”

Ghost brought their arms out from underneath their cloak. They were clutching a scroll, which took Aang a second to recognize as Sokka’s map which at some point they had claimed as their own. They carefully unrolled it and tapped the mountain range that they were currently passing over before tilting their head back at him.

“You’ve got good senses. That’s where we are right now.” Ghost shook their head and tapped the map again. “Where are we going next? Is that what you’re asking?”

Ghost nodded, tapping the map repeatedly. Aang grinned.          

“We’re heading to the Earth Kingdom city of Omashu! I used to visit it all the time to see my friend Bumi.” Aang’s smile turned wistful at that. While it felt like it had only been a few months, it had been over a hundred years since he’d last seen Bumi. And just like all his other friends Bumi should be dead by now. It wasn’t pleasant to think about. He tried to distract himself by talking about something else. “Omashu has this huge mail system that spans the entire city. My friend Bumi had the idea to use it as a super slide. I want to share that with you and Katara and Sokka, but if you just want to spend your time there looking for your family I’d understand. Omashu is a big city and lots of traders come through it. Perhaps one of them has seen your siblings.”

Ghost stared at him for a moment longer before turning back out to face forward. A small, cold, black-clad hand placed itself on Aang’s knee, patting it twice and then staying there as if to offer comfort in the only way a small, strange spirit child could. Perhaps they could sense his sadness. Or maybe they were just good at reading people.

Omashu had been interesting. The merchants had been useless (and obsessed with cabbage), the mail slide had been fun, and the Mad King wasn’t all that bad, although the two kings Ghost had interacted with before left the bar pretty low, what with the whole dead sibling pit and the ritual dance leaving them a little too much on fire for their tastes. The Mad King had even promised to keep an eye out for Ghost’s siblings if they passed through the city. Plus, they got to keep the bracelet of creeping crystal the guards had tried to put on them. Safely stored away in their void it couldn’t creep, and it would make an excellent gift to Myla when they got back to Hallownest.

They had also gotten to witness some earthbending, which meant they had now seen all the Soul magic the beasts of the surface, or rather the humans as they were called, typically used. It really was nothing like their Void-empowered spells, or the regular Soul-spells that some of the bugs of Hallownest used. Bending, as it was called seemed to be a bit more versatile. Both Aang and the Mad King had pulled the ambient Soul in and around them and pushed it to do their desires through dance-like combat. Out of curiosity Ghost had discreetly tried to recreate some of their movement to see if they could imitate their spells, but it hadn’t worked. Then again, all the combative spells they knew had been absorbed from someone else, the knowledge, whether gifted, blessed, or stolen engraved into their very being. Perhaps the bending magic had to be acquired in the same way.

Currently, Ghost trotted behind Sokka. The boy was acting disappointed, their gathering mission hadn’t yielded much to eat for those who had mouths, but Ghost had enjoyed getting to run about and climb some trees after a full day of just sitting in Appa’s saddle.

Ghost couldn’t really remember much of their time spent wandering the wastes before they returned to Hallownest, and they wondered if they had come across trees like this before. The closest thing to these trees that they had seen were the whispering roots and the White Lady, but those were explicitly roots and lacked the leaves and needles that these trees had. They also doubted that their Queen mother would let them climb up her and play in the branches. Maybe if they had hatched as a real bug to be loved and raised by their parents instead of as a discarded tool locked away out of sight and mind.

There was no point in being bitter about it now, even if that didn’t stop Ghost. They had grown beyond what had been expected of them. They were a fully realized god now, and if they wanted to climb trees and run around then they could do that, at least until they could make their way back home with their family in tow.

Up ahead they could see the rest of their traveling companions waiting for them in a small, rocky clearing. Aang noticed their approach first and jumped up to meet Sokka as he climbed up to them.

“Great! You’re back! What’s for dinner?”

Sokka opened the bag he had been using to gather food. “We’ve got a few options. First, round nuts. And some kind of oval-shaped nuts. And some rock-shaped nuts that might just be rocks.” He tossed the offending nut-shaped rock behind him where Ghost jumped up to catch it. As someone who spent most of their remembered life underground, Ghost was pretty sure it was just a rock.

“Seriously, what else do you got?” Katara said, staring at the offending nut.

“Oh, well, uh. Ghost, do you have any more dried meat?”

Ghost glanced up at him and shook their head. Sokka had already gone through their entire supply of Hornet snacks they kept on them. They still had a few Lifeseeds tucked away but those weren’t really food. Ghost threw the rock they were holding behind them and everybody jumped when a loud booming sound resonated through the air when it fell.

“What was that?” Sokka asked. They all stared at each other for a moment before another resonating boom crashed throughout the area.

“It’s coming from over there!” Aang shouted and leaped in the direction of the noise, quickly followed by Katara.

“Shouldn’t we be running away from huge booms, not towards them?” Sokka called out after them, but the others were already gone. Ghost patted his knee consolingly before taking off after the retreating figures. They registered Sokka groaning and him following after them a moment later.

Catching up to Katara and Aang where they had stopped, crouching behind a slowly decaying log they had to leap up to catch the edge and be able to see over it, their claws scrabbling at the flaking surface. A moment later something pushed up behind them and a quick glance revealed that Sokka was kneeling behind them and had put his knee right where their feet had been dangling. Ghost patted Sokka’s shoulder in thanks before turning back to the source of the noise.

Down in the gully below there was a human that was bending earth, sending large boulders flying about.

“An earthbender,” Katara said with some wonder.

Aang grinned. “Let’s go meet him!”
“He looks dangerous, so we better approach cautiously,” Sokka said, not noticing that Katara had already vaulted the log and was approaching the new human.

“Hello there! I’m Katara. What’s your name?” Katara was practically shouting, and it came as no surprise to Ghost when the new human startled like a maskfly and bolted away, knocking the walls of the gully down behind them with a flash of Soul.

“Nice to meet you!” Aang shouted once the rumbling stopped. Ghost glanced at Sokka’s raised brow expression and shrugged. They had no idea what to make of the other human’s retreat. They approached their other travelling companions, hearing the tail end of Aang mentioning a village market and perked up. Another market meant another chance to interrogate the locals if they had seen either Hollow or Hornet.

The village was tiny compared to Omashu, just a small settlement surrounded by walls and overlooked by a mountain covered in mine entrances. The most interesting thing was that it was swarming with the red-armored soldiers of the Fire Nation. Ghost was starting to realize that members of the different nation all tended to wear the same colors, red was Fire Nation, green was Earth Kingdom, and blue was Water Tribe. It might be safe to assume that the Air Nomads wore yellow and orange, but Ghost’s sample population for that was only one strong. If all the other Air Nomads really were killed off, and the Fire Nation were hunting down Aang then it would have made more sense to Ghost if he would wear clothing that matched the nation they were in. Ghost’s own appearance was getting them more than enough looks; at least they were out of direct line-of-sight for most people as long as they didn’t look down. At least now Aang was wearing a hat that hid his unique markings and hairless head.

But Ghost didn’t have a way to tell their companions this.

They hold up their drawing of their siblings to a vendor at their stall.

“Huh? What do you want kid? Speak up,” the vendor said, leaning forward to frown down at Ghost.

“They can’t talk. They’re trying to ask if you’ve seen either of the people in the drawing, it’s their family.” Ghost glanced back at Sokka. They hadn’t realized that he had been following them. Sokka smiled and oh – Sokka was patting them between the horns like their siblings do, like the way Quirrel had at the Blue Lake the last time they saw him. Like a friend would. When did their traveling companions become friends?

Ghost felt their void burble uncomfortably under their shell. This must be embarrassment. Or maybe shame. They should have realized their friends were friends sooner.

“I haven’t seen anyone like that around here. Now, if you aren’t gonna buy anything get lost!” The vendor waved them off.

“Rude,” Sokka mumbled, but left his hand on one of Ghost’s horns, gently leading them away from the disgruntled merchant. “Let’s ask someone else.”

“Hey!” Katara brushed past them and headed towards one of the doorways lining the street.

“Where is she going?” Sokka frowned.

“No idea, let’s follow!” Aang took off after her.

Sokka glanced back down at Ghost and they shrugged back at him before darting off towards the doorway. They had just barely managed to get through the door when it was rudely slammed behind Sokka. The owner of the shop moved on to slam the windows shut as well before wheeling on the other stranger in the room. Ghost recognized them as the mysterious earthbender from before.

“They saw you doing what?” The shop owner cried out.

“They’re crazy, mom,” the earthbender, who must be her child said, “I mean, look at how they’re dressed.”

Ghost crossed their arms and tried to channel Hornet’s best glare. Technically, their cloak was biologically part of them, so technically they weren’t wearing anything, not that these humans, nor most of the bugs of Hallownest ever seemed to pick up on that without closer examination.

Either way, it didn’t seem to dissuade the earthbender’s mother. “You know how dangerous that is. You know what would happen if they caught you earthbending.”

Barely a moment after she finished saying that somebody pounded on the door.

Sokka opened the blinds just enough to peak out and let out a hiss, “Fire Nation. Act casual,” at which everyone in the shop froze up in the least casual, least convincing poses Ghost had ever seen. Ghost shook their head and stepped behind the door when the shop owner opened it, peering up at the red armored human as they stepped inside.

The firebender then proceeded to threaten to burn down the lady’s shop. Ghost curled their hands up, their tiny claws pricking their void carapace. They could draw their nail and strike down this rude human. Hornet would probably do it without hesitation. But then they would probably have to do it to the rest of the Fire Nation soldiers, and if their group was trying to remain undetected then killing an entire battalion of enemy soldiers might draw some more attention. They would have to commit some time and effort if they wanted to get rid of the soldiers from this one small town. Perhaps later if the opportunity arose.

So instead, they stayed their hand as the soldier extorted the shop keeper for her money and left. They listened to what she and her child had to say about their town’s occupation.

Apparently, the Fire Nation had a Lord as their leader as well. Ghost might just have to find them and smack them upside the head. This ‘Lord Ozai’ seemed like a horrible lord, and as both a Lord of Hallownest and the Lord of Shades Ghost felt that they had more than enough Lording knowhow to say so, even if they hadn’t done much in the way of being the Lord of Shades. But in their defense, Ghost wasn’t sure if they would be able to return back into this form if they broke through the hairline fracture through their mask, and then they wouldn’t be small enough to be conveniently cuddled by their siblings.

“They’re thugs. They steal from us. And everyone around here is too much of a coward to do anything about it,” said the earthbender bitterly, only to be scolded by their mother.

“Quiet Haru! Don’t talk like that!”

Katara spoke up. “But Haru’s an earthbender. He can help!”

“Earthbending is forbidden. It’s caused nothing but misery for this village. He must never use his abilities.”

Ghost tilted their head to the side. Just because something was forbidden doesn’t mean you can’t do it. Lifeblood is taboo yet they have never hesitated before smashing a Lifeseed open and smearing its healing goo all over their body. Ghost would never back down from a challenge just because their method of fighting was ‘forbidden’. In fact, that would just make them want to dismantle whatever rules were put in place that would prevent them from existing as they were.

Katara was going on about how Haru’s bending was a gift, but Ghost felt she was missing the point. It wasn’t just about what they could do, it was about what they would do. Even without their Soul magics if the villagers wanted to stop the Fire Nation colonizers they would be able to find a way. The citizens of Deepnest were skilled in spell weaving but not casting and the Mantis’ did not use magic at all, yet both of their groups were able to defend their territory from each other and from the conquest of Hallownest through pure might, nails, claws, and determination, despite the bigger kingdom’s overbearing leader.

No, the villagers had their spirits broken. And the shopkeeper revealed why.

“They could take Haru away, like they took his father.”

Katara’s expression fell. If Ghost was to try and name it, they might call it remorse.

“I – I’m sorry, I didn’t realize –”

“I understand,” the shopkeeper said, “but I need you to understand that there is no hope in fighting back with earthbending. We will just have to wait out this war and hope for a better outcome.”

Ghost was tiring of this conversation. If the villagers were so stuck in their own misery there would be no point in helping them. And there was no reason to remain here any longer, they had siblings to find. Drawing their nail, Ghost tapped it on the ground to get their companions attention and then pointed it towards the door.

“What is that?” the shopkeeper startled, apparently noticing them for the first time. It wasn’t their fault humans seemed to all be the average height of midsized bugs and rarely looked down.

“This is Ghost. Don’t worry, they’re harmless,” Aang said, pushing Ghost’s nail so it pointed back at the ground. Ghost would like to protest, but before they can do anything Sokka crouched down to their level.

“What’s wrong little buddy? Are you ready to leave?”

“Ghost’s got a point. It’s starting to get late and we need to get back to Appa and set up camp,” Aang said, gently grabbing Katara’s arm and starting to herd her towards the door. She still looked incredibly wrongfooted.

Just as he was about to open the door the shopkeeper called out, “Wait!” the group all turned to look at her again. “In return for keeping our secret we can let you spend the night in our barn – I’m sure it will be better than camping out in the woods at this time of the year.”

Aang blinked at her. “O-oh really? If you’re sure – ”

“YES! I mean, of course we’ll keep your secret, now where’s that barn?” Sokka cut him off. “What?” he said, in response to the looks Katara and Aang shot him, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a roof over our head.”

It didn’t take long to get Appa from where they left him in the woods to Haru’s mother’s barn, there would still be an hour or so of daylight left before the sun started to set. While Aang and Sokka were trying to stop the bison from eating all the hay stored in the barn Katara took the moment to slip back outside. She couldn’t have known about Haru’s father, but it felt like she should have. After all, if the war had torn her family apart, why couldn’t it have destroyed others as well. She should have thought about the situation this village was in before opening her mouth like that.

She was jogged out of her reverie a moment later by a light tug on the bottom of her skirt. Ghost had joined her, as silent as ever, and was staring at her with their mask’s empty eyes. It was slightly unnerving to be unable to see any of the face underneath, off-set by the childish nature Ghost would sometimes exhibit. Katara’s eyes itched.

“What’s up, Ghost? Did you need something?” She asked softly, reaching down hesitantly to tap the tip of their mask’s horn. For a second the child seemed to lean into the motion before shaking their head and pointing to the side. Katara followed the motion to see Haru leaning against the barn behind her.

“Oh,” she whispered to herself before gathering her courage. She was here. He was here. Might as well try to apologize for what painful memories she probably brought up earlier. “Hi Haru,” she called out to him, “can we talk?”

He glanced towards her before nodding, “Sure. Let’s take a walk,” he said before starting off along a path that led away from the village.

There was a moment of silence as she caught up with him. She noticed Ghost silently tag along. Katara supposed it would be alright if they overheard this conversation, it’s not like they would tell anyone if it ended up embarrassing her even further. And after all, they had lost family members too. Eventually she spoke up.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I didn’t know about your father.”

“That’s okay. It’s funny. The way you were talking back in the store? It reminded me of him.” Haru said, glancing towards her.

That was surprisingly kind. “Thanks,” she managed eventually.

“My father was very courageous. When the Fire Nation Invaded, he and the other earthbenders were outnumbered ten to one. But they fought back anyway.”

“He sounds like a great man,” she said, trying to inject as much genuine warmth in her tone as possible.

“After the attack, they rounded up my father and every other earthbender and took them away.” They had come up to a cliff overlooking the valley below. Haru kneeled at the edge and looked out down at the settlement visible beneath them. Katara stopped behind him, but Ghost darted past her to stand next to him at the edge. “We haven’t seen them since.”

“So that’s why you hide your earthbending.”

“Yeah.” Ghost held up a small rock towards Haru. The teen took it from them and hesitated a second before patting them in between the horns of their mask. “The problem is,” he started lifting the rock above his hand and swirling it around through the air, “the only way I can feel close to my father now is when I practice my bending.” Haru let the rock land in his hand before crushing it into loose sand and grit that was carried away by the wind. He stared back out into the distance. “He taught me everything I know.”

Katara paused for a moment. Haru had just opened himself up to be vulnerable to two practical strangers. It felt wrong to not give something in return. She gently lowered herself to sit next to Haru with Ghost standing in between them still, and her hand found its way to her necklace.

“See this necklace?” Ghost was staring at her with their undivided attention but Katara waited until Haru glanced back at her. “My mother gave it to me.”

“It’s beautiful,” Haru said, staring at her.

“I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. This necklace is all I have left of her.” Ghost patted her knee in consolation.

“It’s not enough, is it?”

“…No.”

They sat in silence for a while, neither her nor Haru willing to break it. Ghost shuffled around a bit before settling with a familiar piece of paper spread out in front of them. They tapped the faces of the figures until Haru turned to look at them as well.

“What are they doing?” He asked, glancing back at her.

“I think they’re trying to say that they got separated from their family as well. Everywhere we go, Ghost shows that drawing to the people we meet. They’re hoping that one of them will have seen them or know where they went.” Ghost gave a single nod and ran a dark clothed finger along the image of the taller figure before patting the shorter one fondly.

“I guess the war effects everyone, even strange families in strange masks.” Ghost tapped the shorter figure in the drawing and stared at Haru. “Sorry Ghost. I haven’t seen anyone like that. Is your family part of a performing troupe? Those are the only people I’ve ever seen wearing masks like that.”

Ghost froze for a moment before pulling a blank sheet of paper seemingly out of no where and a feather quill and a bottle of ink as well. Unstopping it, they barely hesitated before drawing a new series of lines. A near circle with a divot on top, two oval shapes and some lines left an image of what must be another mask, this one with small horns and the eyes with lines going through them. Ghost rapidly tapped the edge of the still drying image.

“That’s kind of odd. I’ve never seen a mask like that one before. Almost looks like it’s crying. Is it someone else you’re looking for?” Haru asked.

Ghost deflated and gave a sad shake of their head. Carefully, they drew the papers close to them, hugging them before tucking it back underneath their cloak. The moved away from the two sitting teens, head downturned. Katara could only wonder what connection the new masked figure had to Ghost or their family.

“… we should probably head back now,” Haru said awkwardly, staring at the dejected child who was still facing away from them. Katara could only nod in agreement.

Ghost felt awful. When Haru mentioned a masked performing troupe they immediately though of the Grimm Troupe. If the Ghost understood the way the Nightmare Heart worked, the Grimm Troupe would travel from fallen kingdom to fallen kingdom, collecting Nightmare Flames from the echoes of what was left to renew the Heart, and occasionally rebirth the Heart’s vessel. With a war going on, there had to be a dead or dying kingdom or two lying around, and possibly some Nightmare Lanterns as well. If Ghost could find the Troupe, then the new Troupe Master might be able to help them. Despite traveling the surface for a fair amount of time nothing looked like it might lead back to the underground entrance to Hallownest. But Grimm might know how to get back to their fallen kingdom, or perhaps could take them and their family back through the Nightmare Realm, Ghost couldn’t be picky, even if the Nightmare Realm was a little hot for comfort.

Plus, it would be nice to see Grimmchild again, even if they were a fully grown vessel now instead of the tiny child they had helped to raise.

They would have to keep an ear out for any mention of a traveling circus, and an eye out for a Nightmare Lantern to summon the Troupe themselves. They had no qualms about completing the ritual again if it meant getting back home.

Ghost traipsed begrudgingly behind the two humans, letting them lead the way back towards the barn. They weren’t talking anymore but instead sharing what Ghost might label as a companionable silence. That silence was suddenly broken with the sound of an explosion and a yell following it.

Looking towards the sound Ghost could see a cloud of dust floating out from a hole in the hill in front of them.

The three of them ran towards the hill. It quickly became apparent that one of the mine entrances had collapsed, and there was a human partially crushed by the rubble, yelping in pain.

Katara and Haru reached the trapped human first and Katara started futilely pulling on their arms while Haru attempted to brace the collapsing tunnel.

“This isn’t working!” Katara yelled, desperately tugging on the human while they let out more pained noises, “Ghost go get help!”

“There’s no time! Ghost, help pull him out!”

Ghost stood frozen, unsure what to do.

Katara stared up at the other teen. “Haru, there’s a way you can help him.”

“I can’t!” There was genuine fear in his eyes, even Ghost could see that. Haru didn’t want to reveal his bending, it had been ingrained in him for years to not risk exposure like that. Ghost could understand that. Hollow would still sometimes freeze up, the fear of being seen as ‘impure’ long ingrained into their entire being for the entirety of their life.

“Please, there’s no one around to see you. It’s the only way!” Katara pleaded.

Ghost chose to ignore them and considered the crushing weight. It looked like mostly unconsolidated dirt and some larger rocks. They had busted open secret tunnels and hidden passageways like this before back in Hallownest. All it had taken was one Vengeful Spirit. Haru didn’t have to out himself.

Haru stepped back behind Ghost and took on a fighting stance, pulling an arm back as if to punch, but Ghost could cast faster than him. They let Void overwhelm their form and cast a single Shade Soul, the force of the spell scooting them backwards across the ground slightly. The Void tainted spell whizzed past a startled Katara and hit the rubble, sending if flying back into the mine. The pinned human was free.

Someone shrieked. Ghost startled. That wasn’t the reaction they expected. The human they had just freed was cowering on the ground, hands over their head. Katara was crouching next to them as if shielding them, eyes wide and terrified. Ghost turned around. Haru was still in his fighting stance, but he had backed up a good distance. Ghost tilted their head. They couldn’t understand why everyone was acting so odd. What had scared them all?

“G-Ghost? What was that?” Katara’s voice shook and turned to look back at her. They took a step towards her and the previously trapped human let out a whimper and started crawling away. Ghost ignored them as they got up and ran and moved towards Katara.

“Stay away from her!” Ghost turned back towards Haru and suddenly the ground started to move. Two chunks of earth came up on either side of them as if they were going to pin them between it. Ghost jumped and landed easily on top of the rocks after they slammed together.

“Haru wait! Don’t hurt them!” Katara ran around and grabbed Haru’s arm, pulling him out of his stance.

“They could have hurt you!” He sounded more scared than angry.

“But they didn’t! And they prevented anyone from potentially seeing your earthbending!” They were scared of them? Or scared of their Void spell? How was that any different from their magic? Bending drew on Soul the same way. Ghost’s spells were just tainted from what a pure Soul-spell would look like.

“You were the one who wanted me to use it!” Haru practically shouted.

“I didn’t think there was any other way,” Katara countered in a quieter voice.

They both stopped and turned to stare at Ghost.

“What are they?” Haru finally said, “They can’t be human.”

“Aang thinks that they’re some type of spirit child. I guess this lends some merit to his theory.”

Ghost stared at them. Had they just realized that Ghost wasn’t a human like them? They thought the differences were obvious. But now that they thought about it, Ghost hadn’t really seen any other varieties of sapient species, at least not like the variety of bug and beast that populated Hallownest. Perhaps they didn’t know there was options other than their species. They must have never met another bug or beast that would be considered intelligent like their species. And sure, they thought of Ghost as a child, most bugs did too what with their unageing grub face (thanks Pale King) and Ghost was probably an emotional child as Hornet called them, slowly learning feelings and expressing themself in a way that was child-like. It was only when they were fighting that they felt closer to their actual age; experience giving into efficiency of movement that marked them as a master of the nail, identified as such when they wore the charm.

Ghost moved slowly to the edge of their earthen perch before lowering themself to sitting then sliding off to give the two teens time to react They took a hesitant step forward.

“Ghost, what exactly are you?”

Ghost tilted their head. There wasn’t really a good way to convey information to them. They couldn’t just mime that they were a child of Wyrm and Root whose egg had been hurled into the Abyss below with the rest of their clutch, their shell emptied of their godly light and life and filled with conscious Void that had ascended to Godhood in its own right before pouring itself back into their own fragile shell to reunite with their last living siblings. They could try, but Ghost felt that something would be lost in translation.

Instead, they held their hands out and focused their Void like when they were preparing to cast a spell. They let the inky darkness flow to cover their body, their cloak whipping apart into tendrils behind them, and their eyes, just two of them, glowing Soul-white. Viscous void dripped from their outstretched hands before evaporating into dark mists.

Haru grabbed at his head as if in pain while Katara cringed away, rubbing at her eyes. Ghost immediately pulled back, sucking the Void back under their shell and into a more stable, proper body. Ghost cautiously approached and put their hands gently on the knees of the two humans, carefully keeping their claws from catching on their clothes.

“I’m okay,” Katara reassured, wiping tears from her eyes and blinking to squint back down at them.

“Are you some kind of shadow spirit? Is that a thing?” Haru was still rubbing at his temple but his expression might be one Ghost would label as thoughtful now, not upset. Perhaps spirit was the word these humans used for higher beings. It was a little confusing at first because the spirits Ghost was familiar with were all dead, lingering remains of a dream past, but they considered themself to be as alive as a void being could be.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know much about spirits. Aang might know more.”

“If they are a spirit then why are they here?” Haru hesitantly reached out to touch Ghost’s horn and they leaned into the touch. “Are you here to help?”

“We found them in the Southern Air Temple Sanctuary, locked up in a room that Aang said was supposed to have someone to help guide him in it.”

Ghost shook their head vigorously. They weren’t a guide of any sorts. They were lots of things; a Lord of Hallownest, the Lord of Shades, the God of Gods, the Ghost of Hallownest, a Sibling, and most relevant right now, the Knight, wanderer of the wastes and beyond. They would serve the people and their people as best as they could, and right now that meant prioritizing finding their siblings and returning home, not guiding another godling’s vessel to ascension.

Katara kneeled down to their level. Her eyes were squinted somewhat but she smiled softly. “Well, no matter what you’ve helped us so far Ghost. I promise that I will keep helping you until we can reunite you with your family.”

Ghost nodded and tapped her cheek gently with their hand, careful to not scratch her with their claws. They were surprised when her arms came up around them and lifted them up, and they quickly changed their grip to cling to her shoulder and the neckline of her tunic as she stood all the way up, supporting them on her hip. Her skin was warm on their void carapace, and they could feel the distinct beating of a heart.

“C’mon,” she said, turning to Haru, “Let’s head back to the village. We should probably go check on that man Ghost rescued to make sure they made it back okay.”

Still carrying Ghost, Katara lead the way back towards the small settlement in the valley below with Haru barely a step behind her. The sun was just starting to set.

They didn’t say much, but their silence was comfortable, the type of silence Ghost liked to relish in. As they approached the barn Aang poked his head out.

“There you guys are! Sokka went down to the village to see if he could get some dinner and supplies for tomorrow. He should be back soon.” No sooner had he said that then Sokka came running over the ridge, clutching a basket of produce awkwardly and almost tripping as he made his way over.

“We gotta leave, now!”

“What did you do?” Katara asked, sounding resigned.

“I didn’t do anything! This old guy just ran into town screaming about shadow monsters by the mines and he’s bringing Fire Nations soldiers this way!” Sokka shouted over his shoulder as he darted into the barn.

Katara’s arms tightened minutely around Ghost and they felt the need to tuck their head into her shoulder. This feeling was probably guilt. They didn’t particularly like it.

“Looks like that guy was just fine then,” Haru said bitterly.

“What are you talking about? What happened?” Aang was looking between Katara and Haru in confusion. Ghost carefully extracted themself from Katara’s hold and landed on the ground, running in front of them. Waving to get Aang’s attention they started tapping their thorax where their charms were located. Aang’s confusion seemed to grow. “Did you do something Ghost?”

Ghost met Katara’s gaze. She bit her lip for a second before speaking up. “There was a mine that collapsed. Ghost did something. It wasn’t like any type of bending I’ve ever seen. Maybe spirit magic? I’m not sure, but they freed an old man from being crushed.” Was she downplaying her reaction to their Void-tainted spell on purpose?

“Yeah, and that guy turned around and told the Fire Nation!” Sokka cut in, leaning his head out of the barn, “Now, everyone get on the bison.”

Before anyone could move there was a commotion coming over the edge of the ridge, a group of no less than eight Fire Nation soldiers led by the human Ghost had freed earlier.

“That’s it!” The old human shouted, pointing at Ghost, “That’s the shadow monster!”

“That thing is a monster? Ha! It barely comes up to my knee!” The lead soldier sneered. Ghost seethed, their void practically boiling inside their shell. They itched to grab their nail and cut the rude human down to their size. “Still, no reason to not put it down. Lieutenant!”

“Sir!” Said the human standing directly behind the leader, coming to attention.

“Destroy the monster,” he said callously, waving a hand and turning away.

“Yes sir!” said the lieutenant, stepping forward and raising their hands. Ghost could sense the Soul starting to flow as the firebender prepared to attack.

Both Katara and Aang started to shout something but everyone was cut off when the ground started rumbling. A massive earthen wall shot up directly between the Ghost and the soldiers. Ghost turned to see Haru, panting slightly.

From behind the earthen wall Ghost could hear the leader shout, “An earthbender! Forget the monster, arrest him now!”

“Go! Now!” Haru hissed before shouting unnecessarily loudly “Run to the mines! They won’t follow you there!”

“Haru –”

“No! Don’t argue! I can buy you some time to get out of here. If they capture me I can find the other earthbenders, maybe even see my father again.” He paused, an expression Ghost couldn’t name overcoming his face, “If you have the chance just – just tell my mom I’m sorry.”

“We gotta go now!” Sokka whisper-yelled and grabbed Katara and Aang by the hands, pulling them into the barn. “C’mon Ghost, we can escape out the back while they’re distracted.” They nodded and darted into the barn, letting the door close silently behind them. They stopped and pressed themself to the gap left between the door and its frame and peered out. They could see Haru holding his hands up above his head and getting down on his knees before one of the soldiers kicked him in the side, sending him sprawling onto the ground. They tied his hands up with rope behind his back.

“What about the monster?” The old traitor human asked.

“We’ll chase it down later, don’t you worry. An earthbender is far more valuable to capture; our refineries always need new workers.” Ghost watched as the leader pulled Haru up by his hair and leaned in to say something that they strained to hear. “How about we follow through on that threat to your mother boy, and burn down her shop for all the trouble you’ve given us?” Haru attempted to kick the soldier, but they just laughed cruelly before tossing him towards his waiting underlings, who grabbed the earthbender and started walking away with him. Ghost felt their void turn colder than usual.

Katara and Sokka were having a furious whispered conversation behind them.

“– we’re going after him, there’s no way that we can just leave him to the Fire Nation’s mercy!”

“Yeah, and then what? We mount a rescue mission on a prison?”

“We managed to do that for Aang when Zuko captured him.”

“Yeah, but that was a tiny Fire Nation ship, not an actual prison!”

“It can’t be that different!”

“I’m with Katara on this one, we have the opportunity to track him, so we should follow. We’ve got to at least try!”

Sokka sighed, “He did help us. Alright, so long as Ghost stays out of sight, I think it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Aang, you take Appa and Ghost up into the air. Katara and I will follow Haru and see where they take him.”

Did none of them realize that just freeing Haru wouldn’t be enough? The Fire Nation Soldiers were still here, and they were going to burn down Haru’s mother’s shop.

Sokka came over to where Ghost was standing before peering through the crack between door and frame. “They’ve left. Let’s go.” He and Katara slipped out quietly.

They were going to leave without solving the bigger problem. Someone was going to have to deal with the Fire Nation soldiers.

“Come on Ghost,” Aang said, holding out his hand towards them. Ghost shook their head. “You don’t want to go?” Aang asked in confusion. How could they convey that it wasn’t safe for them to leave? The villagers needed help. The villagers needed – oh. They needed a Knight.

Thinking fast, Ghost tapped their thorax twice before pointing down. They pointed at Aang and waved him away. After a second, they pointed at Aang and pointed at the ground before tapping their thorax again.

“You want to stay here while we go after Haru?” Ghost nodded. “And then you want us to come back for you?” Ghost gave a little jump and nodded again. Aang frowned. “If you’re sure. But you have to stay hidden! Those soldiers are looking for you, and we won’t be around to help you if they find you, understand?” Ghost nodded. They understood that they needed to take care of the soldiers.

“We’ll come back for you,” Aang said, clasping one of his hands in the other and bowing slightly, “that’s a promise. We won’t leave you behind”

Ghost nodded again and Aang moved over to the large barn doors at the back of the building, leading Appa outside. Ghost waited until the doors closed again, and then waited some more. They sat down on a bale of hay. They took the opportunity to switch out their charms. Shamans Stone, that was always good, and Soul Catcher, they needed the extra Soul to cast. Their enemies were taller than them, Mark of Pride would be useful. They hesitated a moment before slipping Unbreaking Strength back on. They didn’t want to take any chances that someone they knocked down would be getting back up again.

The setting sun eventually dipped below the horizon and twilight approached before they moved. The King’s brand tingled on their shoulder, and they patted it in response. Ghost drew their nail. They had a village to liberate.

Chapter Text

It had been surprisingly easy to track Haru. Katara and Sokka had managed to follow his captors from the mining town and to a nearby port just as the sun was fully setting. From there he was put on a ship and they were able to meet up with Aang and follow on Appa. Katara could still hear the faint echoes of the argument that had followed once Aang had revealed that Ghost had stayed behind.

“They took Haru onto that smaller Fire Nation Ship currently docked at port. It shouldn’t be too hard to track it when it sets sail,” Sokka said, pulling off the straw hat he had been wearing to blend in the crowd. He glanced around before freezing up. “Aang, where’s Ghost?”

Aang looked nervous before quietly saying, “They didn’t want to come with us.”

“WHAT? And you just let them stay behind?” Sokka said furiously, “What kind of irresponsible caretaker are you?”

“I’m not gonna force them to come with us if they don’t want to. Besides, I promised that we would come back for them and they agreed!”

“You left them in a town full of firebenders who want nothing more than to kill them! We can’t protect them if they get caught while we’re away!”

Aang was shaking his head. “Sokka, I don’t think we have to worry too much about them. I think they can handle themself. They know how to use their weapon. Also, didn’t you say you got to see them train and fight back on Kyoshi Island?”

“Yeah, but that was in a training situation and with the backup of the Kyoshi Warriors. But against a literal army of Fire Nation Soldiers? They’re just a little kid.”

“I’m not so sure that a ‘little kid’ is the best way to describe them,” Katara said softly, interrupting the two boy’s argument. “Remember how I mentioned that they did some type of spirit magic earlier?”

“Yeah, you were pretty vague about it.” Sokka said with a frown.

“That’s because I didn’t want to alarm you or hurt Ghost’s feelings. It was like they were bending shadows, but not normal shadows. Like solid darkness. Something with substance to it. I don’t think Ghost has a face under their mask. I think it’s just living darkness.” It had been terrifying at first, but for a being with no expression they had managed to look genuinely worried about her and Haru’s reaction to seeing their liquid shadow form. They had chosen to trust her, and she didn’t want to break that tentative bond that they chose to reveal.

“I’ve never heard of a spirit like that before. But I never really paid too much attention to what the monks said about spirits other than not to upset them,” Aang said, looking thoughtful.

“Spirit or not, I’m not happy that you left them behind,” Sokka said with a pout. He had really gotten close to Ghost since Kyoshi Island. Katara hoped that if and when he saw Ghost’s shadowy form under the mask he would react in a way that didn’t hurt the spirit child. “Let’s just hurry up and rescue Haru.”

Now, it had been a full day since Haru had been captured, and night was approaching once again. They had arrived during the early hours of the morning at the Fire Nation prison, a large metal rig off the Earth Kingdom’s coast, but with the sun rising soon there wouldn’t be a way to sneak aboard without being seen. With the cover of darkness finally reappearing Aang directed Appa to the edge of the rig and the trio hopped off.

“Okay, now what?” Sokka whispered, crouching down. Katara could see that guards were crawling all over the place, not to mention the searchlights constantly sweeping across the open deck of the prison rig. This might be a little bit harder than she had hoped.

“Now we find Haru and see what type of prisonbreak plan the earthbenders here have come up with.”

“Whoa, wait just a second,” Sokka said, throwing up his hands, “who said anything about a prisonbreak? We’re just here to rescue Haru and get back to Ghost.”

Katara grit her teeth before answering. “We can’t just leave all the earthbenders here! Haru hadn’t seen his father in years, who knows how long some of them have been here?”

“This entire place is made of metal,” Sokka said, knocking on the ground for emphasis, “There’s nothing to earthbend here, how could they escape?”

A beam of light swept close to where they were crouching and they all ducked down even further.

“We’ve got to get moving,” Aang whispered, “We can figure out what to do next when we find Haru.”

Sokka peered at the rest of the rig in front of them. “See those structures over there? They look like they might be sleeping quarters. Let’s start there.”

Seeing no reason to disagree, Katara nodded and followed Sokka in a half-crouched run, slipping through an ineffective fence and further onto the prison rig. Glancing behind herself Katara saw Aang whisper something to Appa before the bison took off into the air. Aang quietly followed behind her.

Even being forced to stop periodically to duck behind storage crates away from the searchlights and patrolling guards it didn’t take long before they managed to sneak into the first of the structures Sokka had spotted earlier. It turned out that he was right, and the long narrow room they had entered was packed with prisoners sleeping in a row.

Katara pressed her hand to her mouth to prevent herself from making any audible noises. There were so many of them, from ancient wizened old men to children younger than her. The injustice of it all burned fiercely through her and Katara couldn’t help but vow to help them all.

Movement caught her attention and she squinted through the dark hall to see Aang further down making a ‘come hither’ gesture at her silently. Carefully, she picked her way over to Aang. No matter how quietly she tried to move, each step made the slightest tapping sound. Every inch of this place was made of metal or wood or some other unbendable material. Once she got close enough, she could recognize the sleeping figure Aang was standing next to.

Gently reaching down, she shook his shoulder until Haru blinked blearily awake.

“Katara?” He mumbled before becoming instantly more alert, eyes flickering to his surroundings. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to rescue you,” Sokka whispered, finally reaching where they were all gathered, “We need to go soon, before anyone realizes we’re here.”

“But – my father,” Haru glanced to the older man sleeping next to him. Katara could see the faintest of family resemblance in the shape of his brow, wrinkles visible, but probably not as prominent in his sleep as they would be when awake.

“We can bring him too,” Katara promised.

“The other earthbenders,” he said, more awake now and sitting up properly, “I can’t just leave them.”

“Then we’re not going to leave them here either. What’s the escape plan?”

Haru’s face fell. “There is no plan.”

“How can you say that?” Katara said in disbelief.

“The people here are tired. They just want to survive, to wait out the war.”

“That’s the same thing your mother said.”

“A brilliant woman, your mother,” said a new voice softly. Katara started before seeing the source of the voice. Haru’s father was awake and sitting up, eyes raking over Katara and her companions. “A word of advice, if you’re planning illicit activities you need to keep your voices down.”

Haru coughed lightly. “Katara, Sokka, Aang, this is my father, Tyso. Father, these were the people I was telling you about earlier.”

Tyso appraised them with new eyes. “You came all this way to rescue Haru?”

“Well, yeah –” Sokka started but Katara interrupted.

“Not just Haru!” Her voice was coming out as a harsh whisper now. “I’m not willing to leave without helping everyone.”

“You’re willing to put everyone’s lives here at risk?” Tyso was frowning. Haru glanced nervously between her and his father.

“They won’t be at risk if we can overpower the guards. Back home, my people always told stories about how brave the earthbenders were, of how courageous they were. Where’s that courage now?”

“We are powerless here. There’s nothing to bend and the Warden and his guards are ruthless. We would be slaughtered.”

“Maybe you do have something to bend,” Aang said thoughtfully as everyone turned to face him. “This rig, it’s burning coal, isn’t it?”

Sokka was more than proud to admit how pleased he was that his plan went off without a hitch. It’s amazing what a little ingenuity and some airbending can do. The fight on the prison rig had practically been one sided; the earthbenders had easily overwhelmed the Fire Nation guards and commandeered their own ships.

Katara was still moping about losing their mother’s necklace, which of course Sokka could understand. It was one of the few things left behind by her, but there’s nothing that can be done about it now. More importantly in his mind was making it back to the mining village as fast as possible. Ghost had been there by themself for over a day. He was still angry at Aang for leaving them behind when the Fire Nation soldiers there had made it clear that they were planning on killing the kid, and spirit or not, firebenders were not know for their mercy.

Their travel speed was painfully slow right now, with Appa keeping pace with the Fire Nation ships by swimming alongside them instead of flying ahead. But after travelling all morning long, the mainland port was coming into view over the horizon. Sokka stared through a spyglass he had stolen from the Fire Nation ship. There were no other Fire Nation vessels there that he could see, just some wooden merchant ships and smaller boats tied to the docks.

“We’re in luck. Doesn’t look like we’re gonna have to deal with enemy ships before we get back to the mainland.”

“That’s odd. Weren’t there at least three of them docked there when we left?” Aang said, reaching for the spyglass. Sokka reluctantly let him take it.

“Let’s just hope our luck holds out until we make it back to the village.”

By the time they were close enough to the port to see it without the aid of the spyglass it was very obvious something was wrong. Sokka and Aang shared an uneasy look as the stolen ships docked.

“Where is everyone?” Katara asked, finally having joined them after riding back on the same ship as Haru and his father had been on.

Sokka looked around. Beyond all the noise the freed earthbenders were making after disembarking the port was practically deserted. Sokka stared at a burnt-out side of a building – he was sure that hadn’t been there when the came through only two nights ago.

“It looks like there was a fight,” Aang said hesitantly. There was a shout from one of the buildings and all the heads turned that way.

An older man ran out into the crowd and staggeringly embraced one of the freed earthbenders, cradling her face. The young woman collapsed into his arms and started sobbing.

“We thought you were the Fire Nation returning to wipe us out,” he said, pushing her away just enough to see her face.

All throughout the port people were appearing, shouting with joy while a handful of tearful reunions took place, the mood switching from tense to celebratory fast enough to give Sokka whiplash.

“Excuse me, what happened here?” He called out to a group of locals that were excitedly talking nearby.

One of the men turned to look at him with a huge grin. “It happened in the dead of night the night before last! Something drove the Fire Nation soldiers out from the mountains and fought them here in port. Whatever it was scared them enough that they all jumped on their ships and left port! Old Man Jin swears it was like the shadows themselves were attacking them.”

“But we all know how Old Man Jin gets after a few drinks,” another man interjected with a laugh.

“Well, something scared the Fire Nation off,” scoffed a third man, “maybe it was your face.”

“Or your awful singing,” countered the second man.

“I tell you,” shouted an old man who may have been Old Man Jin, “it was a screaming darkness, like a wraith or something!”

The group of locals quickly devolved into an argument while Sokka stared at Katara and Aang.

“We need to get back to the village right away.” Sokka’s mouth felt dry.

“Haru, Tyso!” Katara called out, drawing the attention of the two earthbenders. “We’re going to go on ahead to your village, did you want a lift?”

Haru turned hopeful eyes to his father, but the older man shook his head. “I’m needed here to help direct these people. Haru, go on to your mother.” The two embraced for a long moment, before eventually pulling apart. “I’ll see you and your mother soon enough.”

The four of them climbed up onto Appa and Aang quickly directed him up into the air and towards the mining village. The flight was short, but every second felt like an eternity to Sokka. He had no idea what type of situation they would be heading into. He spent the ride alternating between clenching his fists and rubbing a hand along Appa’s fuzzy side, silently urging the bison to fly faster. They landed back in the forest that they had started this whole fiasco a little under two days ago. Haru lead them back to the village and the whole group stumbled to a stop after passing through the gated walls of the community.

There had obviously been a fight here too; storefronts were damaged, some looking like someone had been thrown through them, as well as big gouges in the ground and buildings intermingled with scorch marks. Despite the damage the villagers were out in force, smiling and clearing up rubble. A group of children ran past, kicking a beat up firebender helmet between them and laughing.

Sokka blinked, but before he could say anything Haru took off towards his mother’s shop and all he could do was follow him with Katara and Aang hot on his heels.

“Mom!” Haru shouted, throwing open the partially burnt door and racing into the shop. Sokka entered just a moment after to see the earthbender being embraced by his mother, tears pouring down her cheeks. Sokka looked away to give them their reunion in peace only to have his attention dragged somewhere else.

“Ghost!” Sokka flung himself into the shop and to the counter where the small probably-a-spirit child had been sitting, swinging their legs off the side. They jumped up when Sokka called their name, and a moment later Sokka had crossed the room and scooped them up by their armpits and held them up. “Little buddy, I was so worried about you!” he said, before pulling them into a hug. He ignored Aang giggling from the doorway, the feeling of relief becoming a huge weight off his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what exactly happened here while they were on the prison rig, but it had him worried. Living proof, or maybe not quite living, Ghost was lighter than he expected and the little bit of their body he could feel under their cloak was too cold, but proof none the less that they were okay let him relax a bit.

Ghost had started out holding still when Sokka pulled them into a hug but now they were wiggling around until a tiny hand came up and patted his chin softly. Worried about squishing them, Sokka gently placed them back down on the counter and took a step away, coughing awkwardly. Ghost bounced up and down in excitement.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright Ghost,” Katara said, moving to stand next to Sokka. They nodded enthusiastically in return, practically vibrating with some emotion that they couldn’t quite express.

“We came back as soon as we could,” Aang added, moving to Sokka’s other side and holding out a hand to Ghost who grabbed it and started jumping up and down again.

“You lied to us, you know,” said a choked voice. Sokka turned to see Haru’s mother with Haru himself standing just behind her, hand on her shoulder.

“Pardon me?” Aang asked looking confused.

Haru’s mother nodded towards where Ghost was still jumping, “You told me that they were harmless. They most certainly are not.”

Sokka’s throat clenched up, and he stepped in between the older shopkeeper and Ghost. “Well, they know how to defend themself, but they wouldn’t hurt anyone without reason.”

She shook her head, “It’s a good thing that they are fighting on our side then, after the display they put on two nights ago.”

“What do you mean?” Katara started asking before Haru cut in.

“Mom? What happened?”

“After they took you away, in the dead of night they got into a fight with the Fire Nation soldiers stationed here. It sounded horrible, but almost no one saw anything – it was like the shadows themselves were attacking. The sound was something awful! Whatever your little friend did took out most of the soldiers and drove the remainder out of town.”

“Not just out of town, but all the way out of the port,” Aang said carefully, as if picking through the thought, “The Fire Nation soldiers that were there are gone now, according to the people living there.”

They all turned to look at Ghost, who in turn cocked their head to the side to stare at them with unblinking, expressionless eyes through their mask. The longer Sokka stared at them, the more his eyes started itching and he resisted the urge to rub at them. He was glad the kid was on their side, but that still begged the question. What exactly had they done to endear themselves to the little spirit child?

Fighting the Fire Nation soldiers had been fun. Ghost wasn’t ashamed to admit it. It had been a while since they had been provided with a challenge like that recently, the best that they could compare it to would have been the Colosseum of Fools, but even that wouldn’t be a fair comparison. There had been no audience laughing as the fell into a pit of spikes, only shouts of anger, and occasionally fear, even if the fight had been one of endurance just the same as the Colosseum challenges were. Ghost had discovered that most of the blasts of fire the soldiers had sent at them were easy to shadow dodge through to get close enough, and a swipe of their nail was enough to break their stance and concentration to prevent them from getting off a retaliatory shot.

Then there were the soldiers with more conventional weapons, like the odd nail-lances with wooden shafts that were softer than shellwood. Unlike shellwood, they had snapped and splintered under the onslaught of attacks Ghost had used. The soldiers had obviously never tried to fight someone as small as Ghost, which would make sense if all the enemies that attacked them were all close to adult human size, not like the variety of shapes and sizes the warriors in Hallownest boasted. Ghost was able to slip under most of their attacks to get in some shots with their nail or position themself optimally to get them with spells.

No, the fight had been by no means easy, what with the soldier’s overwhelming numbers. They had gotten hit a lot, but never enough to stop them and they had found opportunities to eek out a heal in between enemy assaults. After fighting for a while and taking down a good number of the soldiers the remainder had tried to retreat. Ghost had taken the opportunity to focus and heal what damage they hadn’t been able to during the heat of the fight before pursuing them down to the port where the soldiers had found reinforcements. From there it had been a matter of using their remaining Soul to barrage the soldier’s defenses with Shade Souls before closing in to replenish their Soul supply and continuing the assault. After the incident involving the destruction of the roof of their home in Dirtmouth, Hornet had forbidden their use of the Abyss Shriek spell except in emergencies. Ghost had considered their fight to be an emergency when the troops had started to overwhelm them, but it only took two screams to turn the tide. Before dawn had broken the remaining soldiers had retreated, running for their ships, and desperately setting off.

Afterwards, all that Ghost could do was wait. Wait for the villagers to wake up, wait for their companions to return. Perhaps even wait to see if news of their battle would spread, and perhaps draw the attention of their siblings, wherever they were.

And they had waited. Haru’s mother had been kind enough to let them back into her shop despite the disappearance of her son and their friends that Ghost had no way to explain. The woman had been grieving, and the emotion that it evoked in them hurt too. Second-hand sorrow had no cure that they could think of.

But now Sokka and Katara and Aang were back and Haru was returned to his home, they were continuing their global journey. Ghost wasn’t ignorant. They could tell that the others were treating them differently now. They were being very cautious around them, like they were trying to navigate a sleeping grubs’ nursery and desperately trying to not wake them, sneaking glances at them to try and gauge reactions. They were also being more tactile with them, running a hand over their mask or rubbing their horns. It was an odd dichotomy, their kindness and their caution.

Ghost in turn was trying to act as calmy around them as possible. They weren’t quite sure why their new friends were so cautious around them but they were determined to show that nothing had changed; they weren’t a threat and would continue to contribute to the group until a point came that they would have to part ways. Plus, they liked the extra attention. It helped with the loneliness they were feeling for their missing siblings. Despite how often they could feel the heat from Hornet or the buzz in their void from Hollow as they tapped their respective King Brands it only gave them the relief that they were still alive out their somewhere.

They hoped the people of Hallownest were okay. The Hive, the Colosseum, and the Mantis territories would be okay. They still had strong leadership in place, even if the new Hive Queen was still a larva. Dirtmouth would be okay as well. Elderbug, Sly, Iselda, and Confessor Jiji had all stepped up into leadership positions and formed a kind of counsel to manage the quickly growing town. But there were others, isolated and spread throughout Hallownest that could still use help, or at least someone to check up on them. Ghost hoped that their friends were okay, that the seals were holding and Hallownest would remain safe while they were gone. But there wasn’t anything they could do for their people right now other than worry about them. And now they had new friends to worry about.

Like right now, for instance. The burnt-out forest was causing Aang pain. Ghost watched the young human pick up a handful of ash, so different from the decaying ash of the Pale Wyrm’s corpse. He gently let it sift through his fingers and the wind carried the ash away.

Ghost wondered if he could pick up on the presence of the other god hanging out nearby. It was powerful enough to tug at the edges of their senses, and agitated too, but also far enough away to not be an immediate threat. It vaguely reminded them of Unn, a slight green tinge to its essence.

Then again, the godling they were traveling with didn’t seem to be able to sense them in the same way. Perhaps once he had ascended properly he would be able to sense other Gods.

Ghost slowly moved towards Aang before sitting down next to him and gently placing their hand on his knee, mindful to not prick him with their claws. They might not be able to verbally comfort him, but they could try and do the best that they could with their physical presence.

“How could I have let this happen?” Aang said after a moment before gently placing a hand on the back of their head, the light pressure just barely registering on their shell. Ghost turned to look at him and leaned slightly into their touch.

“Aang, you didn’t let this happen,” Katara said softly moving up behind them, “It has nothing to do with you.”

“Yes, it does. It’s the Avatar’s job to protect nature, but I don’t know how to do my job.”

“That’s why we’re going to the north pole – to find you a teacher.”

Aang turned away from Ghost to address Katara over his shoulder. “Yeah, a waterbending teacher. But there’s no one who can teach me how to be the Avatar.” Aang turned back around and pulled Ghost closer to him, before turning them around to look directly at them. “Monk Gyatso said that someone in the Air Temple Sanctuary would help me, but if it’s not you Ghost,” at which they fervently shook their head, “then it has to be Avatar Roku.”

“But he’s dead,” Sokka pipped up. “He’s been dead for over a hundred years, how are you supposed to talk to him?”

“I don’t know,” Aang said sadly. Ghost reached forward to tap their hand comfortingly on his knee again before leaning in and resting their forehead against his shoulder in the same way that they would lean in to give their sibling comfort whenever Hollow was having a particularly rough moment. A moment later Aang wrapped his arm around them and gave into a proper hug.

Eventually, whatever was hurting Aang got to be too much and he shifted away from them. Ghost decided to get up and explore the clearing as much as they could. The ash was interesting, dark but dull, especially against the inky blackness of their carapace. Yet it seemed to cling to them in a way that they didn’t often see. After a moment of consideration and ignoring the suspiciously Hornet sounding voice in their head telling them no!, Ghost fell forward and started rolling in the ash. They wondered if they could stain their mask to be dark too, or if the soot would only cling to the more textured material of their cloak. Their musings were interrupted when they rolled onto something small and hard, almost like a rock.

“Ghost, stop! What are you doing?” Katara yelped and a moment later she was trying to pull them up. “You’re all covered in ash now,” she said before staring to swat at them as if trying to brush the ash off. Ghost did their best to wiggle away from her as they tried to grab the object they had rolled over. After a moment of rooting around in the dust the succeeded in freeing the object and held it up in victory.

It was a seed of some sort. A hard shell with a little top to it. Ghost had seen a few trees that had them still growing from them. They turned to show it to Katara, who had finally given up on trying to get them clean.

“An acorn?” she asked leaning down to see it better. An expression flittered over her face, one Ghost wasn’t sure they could name before she glanced around the clearing. Her eyes widened and a small smile appeared. “Can I see that for a moment Ghost?”

They placed it carefully in her hand and she stepped away from them heading towards where Aang was still grieving. Ghost was kind of sad to see her take their acorn away but a quick glance around revealed that there were many more seeds just like it hiding in the ash. They darted around gathering some of them and slipping them into their void-pocket, ignoring the flying acorns that Katara was throwing at their other companions.

Their attention snapped back to what was happening when Katara gasped.

“Hey! Who’re you?” Sokka said jumping to his feet as a grey-haired and bearded human approached.

Instead of answering him the stranger stared at Aang. “When I saw the flying bison, I thought it was impossible, but those markings … Are you the Avatar child?”

For some reason Aang didn’t seem certain, and Ghost watched as they turned to Katara first who nodded at him before he turned and nodded at the interloping human.

“My village desperately needs your help.”

Aang was conflicted. Senlin Village needed help. Desperately. But despite the villager’s belief, despite Katara’s belief, he had his doubts. He didn’t feel like a great bridge. He didn’t feel anything except slightly queasy. Maybe Sokka was right and they would all get eaten by a spirit monster.

But now, standing out in the open as the sun set around him with the eyes of his friends burning a hole in the back of his head, he didn’t really have any choice except to try. His voice rang out through the empty enclave.

“Hello? Spirit? Can you hear me? This is the Avatar speaking. I’m here to try to help stuff!” This felt awkward. Aang clutched his staff a little tighter as he walked through the village towards the main entrance. Everything is quiet. The village is as silent as a deer-mouse. The last rays of light disappear behind the mountains in the west and the air immediately feels colder, despite the fact that none of the air currents surrounding him have changed in the slightest.

“The sun has set. Where are you Hei Bai?” Aang wishes fervently that Ghost could talk. They could use some advice on how to approach ancient angry spirits, and the advice of a spirit, even a spirit child who denies being a spirit, would be appreciated right about now.

Nothing was happening. Aang cleared his throat.

“Well, spirit, uh, I hereby ask you to please leave this village in peace!” The statement felt a little empty. Aang twirled his staff above his head before planting it down into the ground at the entrance to the village. That felt a bit more official. Not much, but a bit.

Nothing in the immediate surroundings change. There’s no sound, no breeze of spiritual change or peace. Aang looked around nervously for any signs. There’s absolutely no indication of anything.

“Okay. Well, I guess that’s settled then.” He turns around and heads back towards the village hall. Something isn’t right here. He can’t feel any changes in his surroundings, only his own movements affect the air currents around him, but something is prickling at the edge of his senses. A buzzing almost, kind of like the feeling he got when he stared at Ghost’s eyes for too long. Aang whirled around.

Well. The Black and White Spirit is aptly named. He’s bigger than Appa, much bigger. And the teeth are sharp, predatory. Aang did his best to put on an air of calm, friendly respect.

“You must be the Hei Bai spirit. My name is –”

He’s interrupted by Hei Bai screaming at him, an energy coming out of the spirits mouth, knocking his staff clear out of his hand and blinding him with light. After a second the spirit reels up on its hind set of legs and holds the other two arm-like pairs to the sky before screaming and then running over him.

“My name is Aang!” He shouts at the retreating back of the spirit, “I’m the Avatar and I would like to help! Hey wait up!”

But Hei Bai does not wait up. Instead, the spirit moves to one of the partially destroyed homes and knocks it the rest of the way down. In a move that is almost too fast for his eyes to track the spirit moved on to another home and proceeds to tear a huge hole in the side. A moment later and it’s at a watchtower, knocking it off its posts before screaming it again, the light and energy turning the remaining wood to kindling before his very eyes.

Aang is out of his depth. He doesn’t want to fight the spirit. He definitely doesn’t want to hurt the spirit, but he can’t seem to get through to it. Hei Bai is moving too fast, each jump it makes brings the sounds of destruction and wood raining down over a different part of the village. The spirit has no interest in listening to what he has to say. Pleading with it doesn’t seem to work.

“I command you to turn around now!” Aang barely gets a moment of satisfaction when Hei Bai turns around before one of the spirits arms backhands him off the roof he was on and he’s flying through the air. Aang lands hard on another roof before sliding down, just barely managing to bend the air currents around him enough to land softly on the ground. His ribs and back ache, but not enough to truly stop him from trying to find a peaceful solution.

By the time he makes his way back the massive spirit is holding what remains of a merchant’s cart in one of its hands, crushing it as easily as a dry leaf.

“Hei Bai! Over here!” Aang’s attention jumps from the spirit to the tiny figure of Sokka at the other end of the road, throwing his boomerang. It bounces off pathetically from Hei Bai’s flank, but Sokka takes the opportunity to dart towards him. At the end of the road Aang can see the even more miniscule figure of Ghost coming around the corner and moving towards them.

“Sokka! Get Ghost and go back!” Sokka ignores him as he slides up next to him.

“We’ll fight him together Aang. We can do this.” Ghost arrives as just as Sokka finished speaking, their tiny hand wrapped around the handle of their weapon, ready to draw. Aang shook his head.

“I don’t want to fight him unless I – ah!”

Several things happened in rapid succession. There was a tingling sensation throughout Aang’s senses, followed by two blurs of motion, one dark and one glinting metallic, accompanied with a crack. Immediately after Hei Bai screamed again, this time without the accompanying light. The massive spirit was running away now. And Sokka was gone.

“Stay here Ghost!” The tiny spirit child was reaching out for him, but he wouldn’t risk them being in danger as well, and he tried to ignore their grabbing hand as he flicked his glider fully out and quickly took off in pursuit of the rapidly retreating spirit monster. Aang had to trust that Katara would look after Ghost while he went after Sokka.

Gliding through the forest isn’t too difficult, Hei Bai is following a well-made path and all Aang has to do is occasionally dodge a tree branch that sticks out farther than the rest. He’s gaining on Hei Bai, despite the spirit’s head start.

“Aang! Over here!”

Sokka is being clutched in one of the spirits smaller hands, his arms free enough to wave at Aang.

Hei Bai bursts out of the forest into the burnt-out scar of land they had been in earlier that day, his pace never slowing.

“Help!”

“Hang on Sokka!” Aang shouts, swooping in. He’s so close, outstretched arm tugging at his aching ribs but he ignores that in lieu of getting a hold of Sokka. The older teen’s eyes are wide with fear, and his arm is almost withing reach. Just as their hands make contact Sokka’s arm suddenly disappears from within his grasp. The shock of it causes him to lose concentration, and Aang finds himself tumbling out of the air. He hits the ground harder than he has in a long time, and the air rushes out of his lungs as the world plunges into darkness.

When Aang wake up it is the dead of night in an empty clearing. Sokka is nowhere to be seen. His breath catches in his throat. He’s failed. He couldn’t stop Hei Bai in time and now Sokka is gone. His friend is gone. Gone just like all his other friends, beyond his reach. Aang grabs his head and lets out a frustrated scream before trying to think rationally. There’s no guarantee that Hei Bai … killed his previous victims. There was a good chance that Sokka was just taken gone not gone gone. Just taken to the Spirit World, which Aang knows almost nothing about.

What was he going to tell Katara?

That thought alone was enough to freeze him in place for a moment. Katara was back in Senlin Village with Ghost. Ghost who was a spirit. Maybe they knew how to get to the Spirit World, how to get Sokka back, even if that meant Aang would have to fight Hei Bai.

It was with that vague hope that Aang managed to push himself back into a standing position and start walking back towards town. He couldn’t bring himself to glide back, so it was a long walk back through the forest before the village gates came into view.

In the moonlight he could make out three figures that resolved themselves into people as he got closer. The village elder was standing next to Katara, who was curled up under a blanket, head down. Ghost was next to her, hand on her back, comforting her.

Aang swallowed, shame prickling his throat. “Katara? Katara, I lost him.”

Katara didn’t move. The village elder didn’t move. Only Ghost lifted their head up slightly.

“The sun is rising,” the village elder said, placing a hand on Katara’s shoulder, “Perhaps he will return soon.”

“What? No! I’m right here!” Aang watched in disbelief as Katara and the elder turned to look towards the village, completely ignoring him standing barely a half step away from them. Frustrated he waved his hand in front of the elder’s eyes, trying to draw his attention only to freeze up. His hand was wrong. Or, more accurately, his whole body was wrong. The rising sun had brought color back to the waking world, but Aang’s skin was transparent, and looked like it was still cast in shadows. His ribs don’t hurt. In fact, he can’t feel any of the little bumps or bruises Hei Bai caused in the course of his destruction of the village earlier. It dawned on him quickly, and despite the fact that no one could hear him he couldn’t help but say it:

“I’m in the Spirit World.”

The elder doesn’t respond. He simply pats Katara on the shoulder one more time before taking a step back. Katara doesn’t respond, just slumps over to lean against the entrance wall of the village, pulling an unresisting Ghost into her lap and resting her chin in between the horns of their mask. Ghost doesn’t respond, just stares blankly through Aang, looking up slightly so it almost appears that they’re looking at his face.

Aang flops down, usure what to do next. Ghost’s face tracks the movement. Ghost’s face tracked the movement.

“Ghost?” Aang asked tentatively. The spirit child visibly perks up. “Can you see me?” A vigorous nod that throws Katara’s chin off of their mask.

“Ghost? What’s wrong?” Katara asks in confusion. Ghost points towards Aang. Aang in turn jumps up and punches the air.

“You can see me! Of course you can, you’re a spirit!”

Ghost shakes their head at that but all that seems to do is confuse Katara further. “Do you see something?” Ghost pushes themself out of Katara’s lap and keeps pointing at Aang, turning back to look at her.

“What are they trying to say?” The elder asks looking just as confused as Katara.

Katara bites her lip. “I’m not sure. We think they’re a spirit. Maybe they can sense something from the spirit side of things?” She perks up a bit. “Maybe they can tell that Sokka and Aang are coming back soon.”

Ghost turns back to look at Aang and despite their unchanging mask looks no different than before Aang can almost feel the exasperation coming from the little spirit. They hold up their hand, as if offering it to Aang for him to hold. He goes to grab it but hesitates. He’d never noticed before how Ghost’s fingers ended in tiny, sharp points. Practically little claws. The longer he looks he can see what appears to be dark whisps of mist coming off their body, mostly from under their cloak and only really visible when it contrasted with the whiteness of their mask. Ghost wiggled their fingers, drawing his attention back to their outstretched hand and Aang hesitated only a second longer before reaching down and engulfing it in his own.

Aang holds back a gasp. Ghost’s hand is frigid, colder than the depths of the ocean, colder than an iceberg.  It’s the only temperature change he has felt since entering the Spirit World and it is more than slightly jarring.

Determined to not give his little friend any reasons to feel disliked or scared, Aang does not release his grip, giving Ghost’s and a little squeeze instead. Ghost squeezes back, then they’re pulling up on his hand.

“Ghost!” Katara shouts, darting forward to catch Ghost’s body as they slump to the ground.

“Ghost?” Aang stares into the eight glowing white eyes of the shadowy figure floating in front of him, hand still gripping his own. There are many tendrils coming off the shade, whipping around in every direction before they calm down, compressing into a smaller form. They twist themselves into a pair of familiar horns on the shade’s head and slowly three pairs of glowing eyes disappear until only a single pair is left, familiar in shape if reverse in color. The shade looks down at itself before looking back up at Aang and nodding slightly.

Fascinated, if slightly disturbed that this is what was hiding under their friend’s mask, Aang releases their hand and sensation slowly creeps back into his own. The shade floats where he left it and stares back at him. “I guess this is why you’re called Ghost, huh?”

Ghost just shrugs.

“Are they alright?” The village elder is next to Katara, who is fretting over Ghost’s physical body. She pushes aside their cloak and lets out a little gasp.

“They’re gone! This is just their mask!”

The elder frowned. “If they’re not here, then where are they?”

“Maybe they went after Aang and Sokka. If Ghost is really a spirit, then they should be able to enter the Spirit World, right? Maybe their mask is like an anchor keeping them here, and they took it off to go help them.”

It makes sense to Aang. “You’re really smart, you know that Katara?”

Katara ignores him and gently wraps Ghost’s mask in their cloak and lifts it closer to herself, before looking up, traces of hope in her expression. Ghost is still floating nearby and Aang turns to look at them. “Okay, Ghost. What should I do next?”

Ghost looks out into the forest.

“Do you know where Sokka is?”

They shake their head.

“How about Hei Bai? I bet Sokka is still with him!”

They nod their head back and forward, and wave a tendril in the general direction they’re still looking in.

“Okay, so we should go after him, right? In that direction?”

Ghost looks at him and shakes their head before going rigid, which is an odd sight for someone whose current form looks to be made mostly of fluid and mist. A single tendril pokes its way towards the forest. Aang follows where it is pointing and sees what appears to be a glowing speck in the distance. Scrutinizing it for a second reveals that the speck is growing and also growling. Within a few moments the speck is no longer a speck, but dragon flying towards them. Not just any dragon though, but a spirit dragon, just as transparent as Aang is, it’s colors too faded to be a live dragon.

“We need to move!” Aang says and grits his teeth as he reaches out for Ghost, bracing himself for the cold. It still steals his breath away, but Ghost seems to be happy enough, wrapping themself around his arm. Aang uses his other arm to flick open his glider and pulls at the air currents, bending them to get them airborne.

Or so he thought. The glider floundered in the air like it hadn’t since he had first started using it and they quickly crashed into the ground. Stumbling back to his feet he glances down at Ghost still wrapped around his arm. They appear to be fine and are still watching the approaching spirit dragon.

Aang moves though a basic bending motion, a shift of weight and stance that should create a blast of air but nothing happens. Alarmed, he repeated the motion to the exact same result. A creeping sense of fear fills him as his arm goes numb.

“I can’t airbend in the Spirit World.” He stares at Ghost. Ghost pats his shoulder with their still clawed hand before disentangling themself from his arm. They float up and away from him, getting in between the spirit dragon and himself.

The spirit dragon is almost upon them now, but before it reaches them it registers Ghost floating towards it. It lands, head down in a defensive position before slowly moving towards them, growling the whole time.

Ghost cocks their head and the growling stops for a moment before resuming in a different pitch. Aang wonders if the two spirits are talking in some spirit-only way. After a few tense minutes the spirit dragon lowers its head in what almost appears to be a bow and Ghost drifts back down to Aang’s side.

The spirit dragon takes a few steps closer until it is facing him directly and peers down at him.

“Um, you wouldn’t happen to know where Sokka is, do you?”

The spirit dragon snorted before leaning down to be eye level with him. One of its whiskers reaches forward and gently taps his forehead. Almost instantly Aang’s mind is filled with the image of an older Fire Nation man riding the dragon. A man that Aang happens to recognize, something deep inside of him whispering who he is.

Opening his eyes, the dragon has backed away slightly. “You’re Avatar Roku’s animal guide, like Appa is to me.” Aang looked down to where Ghost was still floating. They gave him an encouraging nod.

“I need to save my friend and I don’t know how. Is there some way for me to talk to Roku?”

The spirit dragon considered him for a moment before stretching its long neck out around him, offering him to climb on. Who is Aang to deny a dragon? He’s always wanted to ride one.

“Come on Ghost,” Aang said, offering his arm again to the spirit child. They gleefully wrapped around it again and Aang almost didn’t wince at the chill. Carefully, Aang climbed up onto the dragon just behind its head where he could cling onto its horns for balance. He wouldn’t be able to airbend himself out of trouble if he fell, so it would be best if he held on tight. Glancing back towards the village proper he whispered, “I’ll be back Katara.” Then to the spirit dragon, “Take me to Roku.”

With a flap of insubstantial wings, they were off.

Chapter Text

If riding Appa was like riding a Stag then riding Fang the Dragon must be like free flying on your own wings. Ghost could only wish that their own, stunted wings might one day lead to flight like this, even if after all these years they were still the exact same size as they were when they hatched. Maybe they could convince Aang to let them have a turn flying Appa, to see if the sky bison could do any tricks.

That said, this out of body experience that Aang called the Spirit World and Ghost usually called a bad end to a fight didn’t give way to all the benefits Ghost felt flying should give. They couldn’t feel the wind, or the sun, or any real sensations that even their Void-corrupted shell could still feel which was mildly disappointing, but they could imagine what it would actually feel like.

Even so, they were relieved when pulling their shade from their shell did not immediately result in the Lord of Shade’s full form appearing. They could feel it tugging at their mind, insight into the God of God’s and their own relationship, the desire to expand into existence, tempted even to chase after the puny Forest God and tear them into non-existence after it had dared to touch their friend, but they knew that if they let go there was no telling if the Shade Lord would be willing to pull themselves back into being Ghost.

Because Ghost may be the Lord of Shades, but the Lord of Shades wasn’t necessarily Ghost. To bring forth the God of God’s true form would be dangerous for those around them, and Ghost couldn’t risk their lives, or their siblings lives if they were to lose themself again like they had when they destroyed the Old Light.

But no, for now they were just Ghost, free floating Shade of the Vessel of Lord of Shades, and that is all they needed to be right now.

And they were enjoying this journey to the fullest.

Their Void-chiming lullaby could only faintly be distinguished by them, and even so there were no other Void beings close enough to hear it as well. Straining their own senses did not reveal the chime of their sibling’s Void. Wherever Hollow was, it was not nearby.

Fang the Dragon zipped through the air with ease, passing over the forest and over other villages, even at one point over a group of humans riding beasts, mostly clad in green clothes but one was inexplicably without coverings. The cloth-less human stared right at them as they passed overhead and Ghost raised one tendril to give them a lazy wave.

Soon enough Fang the Dragon left the mainland and together they flew over the open ocean. Ghost tilted their head to peer down at the waves below, endless and blue and constantly in motion and so very different from the stillness of the Blue Lake or the Void Sea. They turn back to see what Aang’s expression was, but their disembodied friend is looking forward, determined. Aang tilted his head just enough so that his cheek brushed against Ghost’s horn, a full body shiver going through him.

“Don’t worry little buddy,” Aang said, disembodied teeth somehow still chattering, “It can’t be that much further.”

Apparently, it could be. Even with the speed Fang the Dragon was traveling at they still flew for what felt like the rest of the morning before something that resembled a landmark came into view. A plume of smoke reaching up high into the atmosphere, followed by an island on fire. No, not on fire, but spewing molten rock from the peak of a mountain. The island itself was forever growing, new land cooling and expanding, and as Fang the Dragon approached Ghost could see that it was in the shape of a crescent, the arc of the moon that was sometimes visible on the surface.

Fang the Dragon flew in closer until Ghost could make out an impressive gold and red tower built between rivers of molten rocks. It appeared to be their destination, as Fang the Dragon veered towards it, before tucking his wings in and soaring through the ground floor entrance. The inner most part of the tower was hollow, and Fang the Dragon had no issue flying straight up the tower and did not slow down as they approached the ceiling.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Aang called out as the ceiling approached ever closer and Fang the Dragon did not hesitate as they passed right through it. For a moment Ghost felt their Shade turn more into liquid as they seeped up through the ceiling into the chamber beyond before reforming into a proper shape.

The room beyond featured a statue of a human surrounded by golden flames. Aang stood before the statue and Fang the Dragon reached out a whisker to touch him on the head. For a moment Aang was still, before jerking back, looking up.

“Is that what Roku wants to talk to me about? A comet?”

Ghost tilted their head. What was a comet? Something about the sky? They had never heard of a comet before. They floated closer to the statue, looking around. There was something about this place, a faint tugging at the edges of their senses, almost drowned out by Aang’s close presence.

No, not drowned out. Masked. The room contained the same type of presence as Aang; they were one and the same. But the disembodied godling held more power than the leftover presence in the chamber, making it difficult to differentiate them.

Ghost got right up in the face of the statue. The human depicted had an almost serene expression on their face, and the godly presence behind it seemed to be attempting to reach out, like calling towards like even with Aang still ignorant of his own godly presence calling back to it.

Something was blocking the presence from them. Ghost tentatively reached out towards it with their mind, more than aware of what happened last time they messed with another god’s barrier, but nothing happened.

Aang was questioning Fang the Dragon about talking to the other presence. Ghost looked around, wondering if there was a summoning torch or something similar hanging around. There wasn’t. The chamber was bare except for the statue and an intricately tiled floor with some of the human writing symbols that they couldn’t read.

Well, that, and the strong beam of light shining down onto the flame design surrounding the statue.

Aang was looking between the sun beam and the mosaic. “It’s a calendar, and the light will reach Roku on the solstice. So that’s when I’ll be able to speak to Roku?”

Fang the Dragon snorted and stole a glance at Ghost as if to say Now he gets it. Ghost could only shrug back. People kept throwing around words about the sky like ‘solstice’ and ‘comet’ as if that was something they should understand when they had spent most of their life underground and was still getting used to the idea of the sun not wanting to violently destroy them.

“I can’t wait that long. We need to save Sokka now!”

Aang was absolutely right, and Ghost floated up directly into Fang the Dragon’s face to express their displeasure. The entire morning had been wasted with Fang the Dragon bringing them here for no good reason if the other presence couldn’t give Aang the advice he needed to get Sokka back.

For his part, Fang the Dragon looked cowed, and lowered his head again for Aang to climb back on. Frustrated, all Ghost could do cling back onto Aang as the disembodied human climbed back onto Fang the dragon as he took off, heading back in the direction they had come from.

The flight back didn’t feel any shorter and Aang was quiet the entire time, a determined expression on his face. The sun was starting to set by the time they reached the burnt-out forest. Fang the Dragon flew low, and Ghost could see that he was aiming for a wooden statue of a beast with a figure sitting in meditation of top. Aang let out a gasp as his body came into focus and even tried to scramble back as Fang flew on in a collision course.

Ghost released their grip on Aang’s arm a moment before impact and watched in amusement as Fang the Dragon passed harmlessly through the statue while Aang was slammed back into his body. The Dragon curled upwards into the sky, giving them what looked like a bow before soaring off into the distance, back towards the crescent island. Aang’s body opened his eyes.

The human looked around, disoriented before spotting Ghost hovering nearby. He flicked his fingers and a little gust of wind blew past Ghost, unaffecting their shade. His expression went confused.

“How can I still see you if I’m not in the Spirit World anymore?”

Ghost just stared at him. They didn’t really understand the intricacies of who can and cannot see Shades. Ghost floated towards the ground and a moment later Aang jumped down next to them. They both turned to stare at the wooden statue. It hummed with the same energy that the Forest God did. If Ghost had to guess they would say that this clearing was once a place of worship, like Unn’s temple deep in Greenpath.

No wonder the other god was attacking. Its territory had been destroyed and in its anger it was lashing out at the closest possible source of the destruction. It was probably a good thing the other god barely registered as a higher being, if it had been on the same level as She was, the destruction it had wrought would be much greater. That still didn’t excuse Hei Bai from taking one of their friends and Ghost was ready to fight him again, this time without the other god getting the chance to run away.

Something brushed up against them and Ghost had to consciously prevent themself from retaliating with a spell. Aang had curled a finger around one of their tendrils and was gently tugging on it.

“C’mon. Let’s get back to the village.”

Ghost gave him a nod before wrapping themself once more around his arm. Aang let out a full body shiver and Ghost belatedly remembered that pure Void was incredibly cold to living creatures as Hornet had grumbled to them on more than one occasion. Feeling slightly guilty, the clung on as loosely as they dared while Aang opened his glider and took off towards the village.

It wasn’t long before the walls came into view and only a few more seconds before they swooped down in front of the town hall. Katara was standing in front of the building and ran out to meet them, a familiar bundle of Ghost’s cloak in her arm.

“You’re back!” She shouted and threw her free arm around Aang and, rudely enough, directly through their Shade.

Ghost recoiled back for a moment before diving towards their mask, pouring themself back into their proper shell. They vaguely felt Katara drop them as they reformed, floating in the air for a moment as the Monarch Wings involuntarily flared out before landing back on the ground in a physical body once more. Ghost ran a claw over the hairline crack in their mask, but their little stint outside of their shell didn’t seem to have made it any worse. Before they could do anything else they were swept off their feet and startled as Katara gave them a hug as well, cradling them in her arms before she turned to Aang.

“You went to the Spirit World, right? Where’s Sokka?”

Aang hung his head. “We’re not sure. Avatar Roku was trying to send me a message, but I’m still not sure what exactly he was trying to tell me. Something about a comet –”

The human boy cut off as the sun finished setting and a change came over the village. Ghost could feel the hum of another higher being’s presence approaching. With the way the others were reacting they wondered if they could feel it too.

Ghost twitched in Katara’s hold. They wanted to be put down so that they could safely draw their nail, but her grip on them tightened. Aang glanced back towards the entrance of the village.

“Hei Bai is coming back. You two should get inside and stay there.” Ghost started squirming harder. They could help. They could beat back the forest god until he was forced to release Sokka and the other stolen humans. They froze when a hand came up to cup the side of their mask. “It’s okay Ghost,” Aang said with a tentative smile, “I have a plan, but you scared Hei Bai off last time and I need him to stick around long enough to deal with him. You can come and help if things get bad, but until then stay inside with Katara.”

Ghost didn’t particularly want to stay back and do nothing, but if the other godling had an idea they didn’t want to undermine his plan. They carefully gripped Katara’s clothes, mindful to not get their claws stuck in the fabric as she carried them into the building where all the other townsfolk were staying. She immediately moved to the window they had watched Aang struggle from the night before, her arms full of tension but still careful to not grip them too hard.

They tilted their head to look up at her expression. Nervous, they decided, or worried, based off the wrinkles between her eyes and the way she bit her lip. Ghost could understand. The only difference between her and them was that they knew their siblings were out there, capable of reaching out through their shared brand. Sokka had been taken, and by an angry god no less.

They wiggled their way out of Katara’s hold and pulled themself onto the windowsill, giving themself a better view of where Aang stood in the village entrance. Ghost vowed that if Aang’s plan did not work they would not hesitate to tear the forest god to pieces.

Aang turned around and started walking back towards them. There was a buzzing throughout their Void. Hei Bai was coming.

Ghost watched the forest god sneak into the village, whisps of power that no one else seemed to be able to see, cautiously looking about. Ghost tried to shove down their own presence, if only to lure the other god into a false sense of safety if they needed to ambush him.

Hei Bai flashed into existence suddenly, accompanied by the destruction of another home and a flash of Soul from Aang as the godling shielded himself from flying debris.

“Aang! What are you doing? Run!” Katara’s voice rang out from next to them and distracted the forest god. He turned to them with a roar and started to charge the building.

Ghost gripped the hilt of their nail and prepared to jump into action. Before they could leap out Aang managed to launch himself over the other god and pressed his hand to Hei Bai’s face. Ghost could sense the flash of Soul between the two, and the godling landed nimbly in front of them.

“You’re the spirit of this forest. I understand. You’re upset and angry because your home was burnt down. When I saw the forest had burned, I was sad and upset, but my friend gave me hope that the forest would grow back.” Ghost saw Aang pull something out of his pocket and hold it up to the other god. With a jolt, they realized it was the acorn they had found earlier. Aang put it on the ground at his feet and stepped back.

Hei Bai delicately took the acorn from where Aang had placed it and his image rippled, revealing a smaller, less monstrous beast underneath. Still black and white, the new beast was fluffy and built thick, like Appa. Hei Bai lowered his head in a bow.

Lord of Shades…

The thought tickled at the back of their mind and Ghost glanced down at their claws to ensure that they hadn’t drawn the Dream Nail. They hadn’t, but somehow the other god’s thoughts had pierced into their mind. They could only watch in confusion as the forest god lumbered out of the village, fresh green growth bursting from the entrance as he left and a moment later human figures stumbled out from it.

Ghost was still trying to puzzle through it when Katara burst past them to embrace her brother.

The flight to the crescent island had been long and stressful and Sokka still wasn’t quite sure how they had gotten there in one piece. There had been too many close calls, first with prince ponytail shooting at them and then when they ran the blockade. Altogether too many fireballs in their vicinity for his comfort. And falling off of flying bison should really be left for airbenders.

While he had been stuck in Spirit World limbo – an experience he would not like to repeat – Aang and Ghost had apparently gone on Spirit World adventures where a spirit dragon had told them that they needed to be here to learn something about a comet. It was all very vague and Sokka was more than ready to never have to deal with spirit nonsense ever again.

Ghost hopped up and down next to him while he stretched, and he couldn’t help a fond smile at their antics. Maybe he could deal with some spirit nonsense as long as it didn’t involve anymore kidnapping.

“Oh, you must be tired,” Katara said in a soft voice.

“No, I’m good” Sokka said, popping his back, “Refreshed and ready to fight some firebenders.”

“I was talking to Appa.”

“Well, I was talking to Ghost!” He said indignantly, glancing over to where the spirit child was still hopping. Ghost stopped and stared at him for a moment before shaking their head and bounding over to Appa and rubbing the bison’s belly next to Katara, the little traitor.

“C’mon guys, we gotta get going. The sun is getting low!” Aang paused to give Appa’s nose one last pat before turning around and leading them around the embankment of dark rock they had landed behind.

The island was on an active volcano, but even with the lava flowing down into the surrounding sea there was obvious signs of life. A path lined with short walls went from the rocky shore up to the large tower sitting on the northern rise of the crescent shaped island, and it was towards that tower that Aang was leading them.

Ghost hopped up onto the small wall alongside the path and trotted alongside them. Sokka kept a close eye on them, but their balance did not wavier, even when the path turned into a bridge.

Sokka peered over the wall only to see a fresh flow of viscous lava running below them. He pulled back fast and shared an uneasy look with Katara before calling out, “Ghost come over here. You’re making me nervous.”

Ghost tilted their head towards him before jumping onto him, not weighing enough to make him stumble but their tiny hands tugged at his hair as they settled themself down on his shoulder.

“There’s no bricks,” Katara said, distracting him from the slight pain on his scalp and brushing a hand over the wall on the opposite side of a path. “This path wasn’t built, it was earthbended into place.”

Looking closer Sokka could tell she was right. Still, he couldn’t help but feel incredulous, and voiced his thoughts, “What type of earthbender would work for the Fire Nation?”

“This place predates the war,” Aang glanced back at them briefly before facing forward again. “It wouldn’t have been such a big deal to have an earthbender help out with building a path. Besides, this place is a temple for Avatar Roku. Who’s to say that he didn’t earthbend it himself?”

The rest of the trip up to the temple was in silence. The building loomed before them, five stories and covered in flame motifs. Before they reached the stairs leading up to the entrance the group ducked to the side of the base platform the tower was built on to observe the temple.

“I don’t see any guards,” Sokka said, peering over the wall at the entrance before glancing at his companions.

“The Fire Nation must have abandoned the temple when Avatar Roku died,” Katara said while simultaneously trying to push Ghost’s head down where their mask’s horns stuck up above the wall.

Aang looked apprehensions. “It’s almost sundown, we better hurry!” he said before levering himself up onto the platform and darting towards the entrance.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty atrium and without saying anything the group slowed to a much quieter pace. Looking up revealed that most of the inner part of the tower was empty.

A noise from behind them had Sokka pausing.

“Wait. I think I heard something.”

Katara turned first and Sokka could see her eyes widening before he wheeled around to see what had startled her. Blocking the way that they had just come from was a group of five old men with impressive hats and Fire Nation red robes.

The old man in front with the fanciest hat spoke first. “We are the Fire Sages, guardians of the temple of the Avatar.”

“Great! I am the Avatar!” said Aang with what Sokka thought was too much undo optimism.

“We know,” said the fancy-hat man, before predictably shooting a blast of fire at them.

Aang jumped in front of everyone and disrupted the fireblast with some quick airbending, dispersing the flames before they could reach them.

“I’ll hold them off, run!” he shouted, and Sokka did not hesitated to scoop Ghost up from where they were standing next to him, not trusting the child’s tiny legs to keep up or the way they looked like they were about to jump into battle as well.

“Where do we go?” Katara was keeping pace with him as he sprinted towards one of the archways on the circumference of the main room.

“No idea, just keep moving!” he panted out, clutching a very wiggly Ghost to his chest as they tried to escape.

The corridor they had run into split up and ran into others, and Sokka just barely managed to avoid running straight into Aang as he came bursting in through a different branch.  

“Follow me!” he said, taking off in the same direction they had been going.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Sokka shouted after him, trying to ignore the child tugging at his ear.

“Nope!” Aang rounded the corner and a moment later came tearing back around it. “Wrong way!”

“Come back!” shouted one of the old Fire Sages from behind them as Sokka chased after Aang.

Ghost stopped tugging at his ear and Sokka had a moment of relief before their tiny hand smacked him on his chin. Sokka switched to gripping them from under their armpits and held them away from his body.

“What do you want Ghost? We’re kinda busy here!” he said irritably but Ghost just twisted an arm up to point at the ceiling. “We need to go up?” Sokka blinked in surprise as the child nodded in his grip.

Aang called over his shoulder, “Oh yeah, the room with Roku’s statue is at the top of the temple.”

“Why didn’t you say that earlier? We’ve passed several staircases already!” Sokka grit out.

Aang didn’t get a chance to reply since the next turn he took lead them directly to a dead end. Sokka turned around only to see the old Fire Sage that had been chasing them had caught up.

“I don’t want to fight you. I am a friend.”

“Firebenders aren’t our friends!” Sokka said, placing Ghost down behind Katara so he could safely draw his boomerang. Katara in turn grabbed Ghost’s shoulder and held them close when it looked like they were preparing to attack as well.

The Fire Sage ignored this and approached slowly before dropping to his knees before Aang.

“I know why you are here, Avatar,” he said, head down.

Aang dropped out of his fighting stance and asked, “You do?”

“Yes. You wish to speak to Avatar Roku. I can take you to him.”

“We already know where he’s at,” Aang glanced back towards Ghost who gave a single nod. “We don’t need your help.”

The Fire Sage shook his head, standing up. “I can take you through a route to avoid the other Sages.”

Before anyone could say anything else he reached over to a sconce on the wall of the corridor and moved it out of place. There was a tiny opening on the wall and the Sage placed his hand over it before firebending directly into it. Smoke appeared in the shape of a doorway and a previously hidden panel slid away revealing a staircase descending into the earth.

“This way,” the Sage said gesturing for them to go in.

Sokka didn’t like this. He didn’t want to trust a firebender, and he didn’t trust that the stairway was going down. Weren’t they trying to get to the top of the temple?

The decision was taken from them however when the voices of the other Fire Sages drifted over.

“Time is running out! Quickly!” the Sage said, practically begging.

Sokka met Aang’s eyes briefly as he glanced back at him and Katara before nodding before the group moved into the passageway. The Sage closed the door behind them with a sound of finality.

Katara had been worried at first when the Fire Sage – Shyu as he later introduced himself – lead them underground. It looked like it might have been a trap. But as Shyu started to explain the history of the island temple the path took a turn leading upwards until a spiral staircase took over from the magma-made tunnels as they climbed up the tower.

Aang’s face had gone through a whole mixture of emotions before settling into a determined scrunch. The Fire Sage had given them a lot of information about the past Avatar and what had changed since his death and the absence of a new Avatar, and Sokka wasn’t helping by taking a jab at Aang for being frozen in ice for a hundred years.

It seemed as though Sokka was more and more willing to trust Shyu as they climbed higher, and Katara was inclined to agree. The older man could be leading them to a trap, but she doubted he would be able to put so much sincerity into his answers to Aang’s questions if he really wanted them dead.  

Ghost, of course, revealed nothing of their feelings, their mask as inexpressive as ever even if it was focused on the Sage as he talked.

Ghost, who was apparently a shadowy spirit of some sort under their mask, as Aang had whispered to her and Sokka, pulling them to the side while Ghost had been distracted with the townsfolk back in Senlin Village. Ghost, who may or may not have scared off an entire platoon of Fire Nation soldiers, could go toe to toe with the Kyoshi Warriors, and use some weird shadowbending but was also the size of a toddler with many of the same mannerisms to boot. Katara couldn’t help but wonder what exactly they were.

As if they could sense her thinking about them Ghost tilted their head towards her, staring with blank eyes. They sped up to keep pace with her and held up a hand, tugging at her sleeve. Katara indulged them and let her hand fall down to theirs where they took it in a still shockingly cold grip, clasping two of her fingers in all of their own.

She stared at the connection, running her thumb over the back of their chubby, childlike knuckles. The heat radiating up from the magma below made her eyes prickle.

Whatever they were, Katara would not be the one to leave a child in need. Until they found Ghost’s family and the place they belonged she would make sure that they could stay safe with the group. And besides, who best to solve a spirit’s problem than Aang?

The stairs eventually ended and Shyu opened another secret panel, releasing them from the floor into the uppermost part of the temple.

“No!” Shyu gasped as Katara and Ghost emerged from the hidden staircase. The room they were in had massive dragon-shaped pillars that framed the door ahead of them that the Fire Sage had stopped short in front of. Katara, Ghost, and Aang stopped a few steps behind him, with Sokka bringing up the rear.

“Shyu, what’s wrong?” Aang asked, glancing around.

“The sanctuary doors – they’re closed.”

Aang moved to push on the door while Ghost let go of her hand and moved next to him and prodded the doors with their weapon. Katara took in the doors. Five metal dragon heads on top of a flame. It reminded her of the Air Temple Sanctuary doors that Aang had opened with airbending. She glanced back at Shyu.

“Can’t you open them with firebending, like that other door? Or how Aang opened the Air Temple Sanctuary with airbending?”

Shyu shook his head. “No. Only a fully realized Avatar is powerful enough to open this door alone. Otherwise, the Sages must open the door together, with five simultaneous blasts of fire.”

They all froze when Ghost hit the door hard with their weapon, the two metallic objects screeching in objection as they clashed.  

“Calm down bud,” Sokka said, “I don’t think you’re gonna be able to brute force your way through there.”

Ghost turned to stare at her brother for a moment before returning their weapon to the sheathe on their back. They switched their attention to the door for a moment and jumped up, catching one of the dragon locks and attempting to stick their head into the open mouth only for their horns to get caught. They reangled themself so that they could peer into mouth before dropping down and sitting on the ground.

“What are they doing?” Shyu asked, looking confused. Sokka shrugged, equally as befuddled.

Ghost’s hands were on one of the little pins on their cloak. As she watched they removed it and put it into one of their hidden pockets before pulling out a different pin, one that was made of a dark material with sharp looking points.

Once the pin was securely on and nestled to the other three that they were still wearing Ghost stood back up, took a few steps away from the door before running back towards it and jumping. Just as they reached the height of the middle dragon lock their form dissolved into shadows that seemed to streak into the mechanism. Someone let out a yelp of surprise.

A moment later there was a knock coming from the other side of the door.

“Can’t say I expected that,” Sokka muttered before speaking up. “Good job, Ghost! Is there some sort of lever or something they can hit to open the door?”

Shyu was still blinking some of the surprise from his face, but before he could say anything there were shouts coming from somewhere nearby.

“Quick! Hide!” he hissed, pushing Aang and Sokka over towards the pillars as the footsteps grew louder. Katara ducked behind her brother, her heart in her throat. If Shyu was going to betray them, now would be the time.

But a moment later it seems her fears were unfounded. Shyu is a terrible liar, and Katara can barely believe that the other Fire Sages actually believe him.

“Come quickly! The Avatar has entered the sanctuary!” Shyu shouted, his voice stilted oddly as the other Fire Sages come running up to him.

The head Sage, the one with the jewel on his hat looked incredulous. “How did he get in?”

“I don’t know. But I can hear someone on the inside.”

From the other side of the door comes another bang, and from her hiding spot Katara can spot a hint of a shadow from Ghost as they move around in the sanctuary.

“He’s inside! Open the doors immediately, before he contacts Avatar Roku!”

Shyu spares their group a quick, nervous glance before lining up with the other Sages to open the doors. Next to her, Aang starts to creep out of their hiding spot.

Together, the five sages release a torrent of flames into the dragon head locks before the entire frame releases smoke and the locks twist and turn into place before the doors slide open.

Ghost stares out at them with blank eyes, head tilted as if curious about what all the rucks is about.

“What is that thing?” one of the Sages asks while Shyu subtly backs away. A heartbeat later and Ghost is already leaping at the remaining Sages, their glowing transparent wings that Katara has only gotten a glimpse of a few times flap out, lifting them above the Sages. Instead of drawing their weapon like she expected, she can see them curl their tiny fist before something flashes bright in their grip and their body becomes a blur as they slam into the ground in between the Sages.

Inky shadows ripple upwards as if Ghost had dived into a pool of black water and the Sages yelp in pain where the dark substance touches them. There’s just enough time to make out Ghost’s solid mask in between the much taller figures before the ground lets out a mighty crack and starts to crumble beneath them.

Katara’s feet were moving before she even realized it but before she could take more than a few steps from out behind the pillar something caught her arm and pulled her back.

Ghost seemed to look straight at them before the floor collapsed, and the four remaining Fire Sages and the tiny spirit child fell into the gaping hole forming beneath them.

“Aang, now’s your chance!” Sokka yelled, and Katara only realized now that he was the one gripping her arm firmly to prevent her from rushing out.

From behind the other pillar Aang was frozen, staring at the growing hole in the floor.

“Now, Avatar!” Shyu said, gesturing for him to move. Aang wrenched himself out of this stupor and lunged for the open sanctuary doors, slipping in at the doors close with finality behind him. A blue light flashed out from around the sealed frame.

Sokka let go of her arm and Katara stumbled forward, carefully making her way to the edge of the crumbling hole in the floor. Distantly, she noted that Sokka and Shyu were approaching as well. Crouching down as close as she dared, she peered down. The sight below made her dizzy and sick. The distant bottom floor of the building is visible, red rubble and dust making it fuzzy. She thought she could see a red-clad body.

“I can’t see Ghost.” Sokka said, eyes shifting around, looking for signs of movement in the rubble.

Katara squinted, looking for any sign of them. A flash of white draws her attention to a tiny figure jumping out of the rubble. “There they are!”

Sokka let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness,” then a little louder, “Stay put Ghost! We’ll come and get you!”

Ghost did not stay put. Instead, they darted off into one of the side corridors and out of sight. Katara tried to remember if that particular side tunnel was one they went through earlier but was distracted when she noticed something else moving at the bottom of the tower. The shape and color of the individuals were unpleasantly familiar and was probably what prompted Ghost to run in the first place.  

“There’s a unit of firebenders down there!” she hissed, watching as they flooded into the building, moving quickly, and blocking off their escape route.

Sokka backed away from the edge, glancing at the sealed sanctuary doors. “Oh man, how are we gonna get out of here?”

“You aren’t,” said a familiar voice, “Where is the Avatar?”

Katara and Sokka turned around. The familiar teen was glaring at them, his hands up and prepared to start blasting fire at them.

“You are too late,” Shyu said calmly as Katara and Sokka subtly shifted away from the falling hazard that was the massive hole in the floor, “The Avatar has already entered the Sanctuary.”

Prince Zuko shifted his gaze towards the sealed doors before back at the siblings. “He can’t hide in their forever,” he said before a fireball came whizzing towards them, and Katara was forced to jump back or get burned. She vaguely wondered if Aang would be done talking to Roku before the reinforcement firebenders got there.

Until then, they would just have to hold Zuko off.

Aang was impatient. He was finally here in the flesh, with Avatar Roku’s statue staring serenely down at him inside the Fire Temple Sanctuary while just outside the doors anything could be happening.

The light was shining through the large red gemstone set into the wall and the beam of concentrated light was illuminating the statue. He could practically feel spiritual energy emitting from the room.

So why wasn’t anything happening?

He stared at the uncaring face of the statue as frustration welled up in him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing! All I know is airbending! Please, Avatar Roku, talk to me!”

As if the statue had been waiting for him to ask, the eyes lit up and the spiritual energy in the room became palpable, mist swirling around him. Aang found himself standing in a new location, the sky stretched out above him in the explosion of the warm colors of sunset, reflecting off the peaks of nearby mountains above the cloud sea. It achingly reminded him of the Southern Air Temple.

“It’s good to see you, Aang,” said a voice that was completely unfamiliar yet unmistakably known to him. Aang turned, and an old man was standing the same distance away from him as his statue had been, a slight smile on his lips. “What took you so long?” Avatar Roku asked, a gentle teasing to his tone.

The only thing Aang could think to do was to fall into a traditional Fire Nation bow, left hand clasping his right fist as he lowered his head. “I’m here now,” he said from his bow before looking back up at Roku.

“I have something very important to tell you, Aang,” Roku said, his face shifting into something much more serious. “That is why when you were in the Spirit World, I sent Fang to find you.”

“Is this about the vision – the one of the comet?”

Roku inclined his head. “Yes.”

“What does it mean?”

The sky around them shifted, going from sunset to the middle of the night, the stars fading slightly as the bright glow from the comet took over a portion of the sky.

“One hundred years ago, Fire Lord Sozin used that comet to begin the war. He and his firebending army harnessed its incredible power and dealt a deadly first strike against the other nations.” As he spoke, the comet plunged towards the horizon before the world shifted back into the warm tones of sunset.

“So the comet made them stronger?” Aang asked, turning back towards his previous self.

“Yes,” Roku said, with an undeniable sense of anger in his voice, “Stronger than you could even imagine.”

Aang frowned. “That happened a hundred years ago. What does the comet have to do with the war now?”

“Listen carefully. Sozin’s Comet will return by the end of this summer, and Fire Lord Ozai will use its power to finish the war, once and for all. If he succeeds, even the Avatar won’t be able to return balance to the world.” Aang felts a frisson of fear sweep through him as Roku’s gaze never left his. “Aang, you must defeat the Fire Lord before the comet arrives.”

Aang shook his head. “But I haven’t even started learning waterbending, not to mention earth and fire.” He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t be ready. Roku couldn’t possibly believe that he was anywhere near ready to do something like this.

As if the previous Avatar knew what he was thinking Roku addressed his unspoken thoughts. “Mastering the elements takes years of discipline and practice. If the world is to survive, you must do it by summer’s end. You cannot trust in the spirit you travel with to be the solution to your problems; their involvement could cause more harm than help.”

Aang paused for a moment, processing what Roku had said. “Ghost? What do they have to do with any of this?”

Roku shook his head. “No Avatar has seen the likes of them at their full power. They are a dangerous, ancient, and unknowable being that We do not recognize. It is safer to have them as a friend rather than an enemy, but you must be weary all the same.”

“They could help stop the Fire Lord?”

“The price for their assistance is too high. You must master the elements and stop him yourself.”

“What if I can’t master all the elements in time? What if I fail?”

“I know you can do it Aang, for you have done it before.” This time, Avatar Roku’s smile was infectious, and Aang couldn’t help the matching upturn of his own lips. “The solstice is ending. We must go our separate ways for now.”

“I won’t be able to come back to the temple. What do I do if I have questions? How will I talk to you?”

“I am a part of you. When you need to talk to me again, you will find a way.” Roku closed his eyes and suddenly Aang was bombarded with visions of the outside world, his own eyes snapping shut. Warships in the bay of the Crescent Island, firebenders just outside the sanctuary doors, his friends, and, inexplicably, Prince Zuko chained up to one of the pillars. Ghost was nowhere to be seen.

Roku’s voice filled his mind. A great danger awaits you at the temple. I can help you face the threat, but only if you are ready.

Aang could feel a prickling at his extremities, currents of power probing at his mind. He took a steadying breath before letting it out. “I’m ready.”

Aang wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. Distantly, he could hear people shouting and feel the heat of barely visible flames on his skin. His entire person was buzzing, alive and full of vaguely familiar energy, like something from a dream. Or maybe a past life.

It wasn’t until the energy faded away that he became fully aware again, his knee hitting the ground while Sokka said something that resembled words.

“We got your back.”

Someone did have his back. Maybe multiple someones, unless Sokka had grown an extra hand while he had been inside the sanctuary. The hands shifted to his arms and started pulling him up. Aang’s vision cleared and he blinked at the space before him, recently wrecked and completely devoid of life.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, feeling exhausted in a way that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, not since he had started his airbending training. With a start he realized the ground was shaking under him. “Where’s Shyu? And Ghost?”

“I don’t know,” Katara said softly, “Shyu ran with the others but Ghost was at the bottom of the tower when we last saw them.”

Roku’s words rang in his head. Dangerous. Ancient. Unknowable. Aang shook out of the other’s hold. “We can’t leave them here.”

“We won’t.” Sokka said firmly.

They moved towards the staircase. Not the secret one they had used before but the main one leading up to this floor, next to a section of missing wall. Before they could even take a step down Sokka threw his arms out. After the first few steps the stairs were flooded with slowly rising Lava.

One of the still standing dragon-shaped pillars fell over as the floor tilted wildly, making them all jump at the impact. Wordlessly, they moved towards blown-out wall.

The world outside was shifting rapidly as the tower tilted and sank even deeper. Whatever Roku had done, he had maybe done a little too well. Maybe if the tower sank at the same pace, they would be able to jump into the bay?

Before Aang could formulate any risky plans, a familiar growl overtook the sounds of destruction. Swooping towards them was Appa, and for a being wearing an expressionless mask Ghost looked incredibly smug to be sitting on the bison’s head and holding onto his reigns.

Without hesitation, Katara stepped out onto the curved roof and slid onto Appa’s waiting back, with Aang and Sokka following just behind her. Appa sped up, flying away from the collapsing tower as Aang turned to watch. Barely a few seconds later what remained of the tower disappeared in a column of smoke.

Aang sat there staring at the spot on the horizon where the Island had disappeared for a long time. It was fully dark by the time he managed to speak, softly telling the others some of what Avatar Roku had told him. He couldn’t help when he glanced over at Ghost when they moved into the saddle with everyone else. Dangerous, Roku had said. Aang couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. For a moment after he finished talking about the comet no one said anything, and Aang turned away.

There was movement behind him, a hand on his back that turned into a hug, another one on his shoulder. It wasn’t until something started butting at his arm that he glanced down at the familiar horns. Ghost stared up at him with empty eyes, before butting his hand again. He gently rubbed the top of their head, tears forming after the emotions of the day caught up with him.

Aang turned around and pulled all three of his companions into a hug. Katara and Ghost went easily and Sokka reluctantly. Perhaps they were dangerous. But they were also his friend.

Chapter Text

Aang had been stressed. Not just stressed, but full-on panicking, pacing on Appa’s saddle, with the occasional odd look aimed towards Ghost. Of course, Katara could understand his panic, it was frankly terrifying to know that in less than a year the whole world could be burnt to the ground, but there wasn’t anything more that he could do now than they were already doing. When she had suggested to Aang that she could teach him the waterbending moves she had taught herself she figured that feeling like he was taking steps to mastering another element would help him relax.

But seeing him accomplishing the moves it had taken years for her to learn and surpassing her had hurt.

Maybe being the Avatar meant that he was a prodigy at every element.

Or maybe she was just a bad waterbender.

Katara breathed and tried to let it go. She couldn’t really afford to be distracted here. After Aang had accidently sent their supplies down the river they had needed to restock, but this particular port market seemed rougher than usual. The merchants and customers gave off a particularly seedy air, and she would really prefer if their newly purchased items didn’t get stolen directly off their backs.

And speaking of thieves, Katara was also on Ghost duty. Fairly early on after Ghost had started traveling with them, Katara had noticed that they had a tendency to pick up anything relatively small and not tied down. In a market like this, it was almost guarantee that they would try to take something that someone would object to.

“We’ve got exactly three copper pieces left from the money that King Bumi gave us,” said Sokka as he exited one of the many shops they had gone into today. “Let’s spend it wisely.”

Aang grinned sheepishly. “Make that two copper pieces Sokka. I couldn’t say no to this whistle,” he said holding up a bison shaped piece of wood. He took a deep breath and Katara instinctively covered her ears, more than aware of the damage an airbender could do with a breath like that. But her fears were unfounded, and the whistle made no sound.

“It doesn’t even work,” Sokka said, putting his hands on his hips. Ghost hopped up and down next to Aang, their tiny arms waving at the whistle. “See? Even Ghost thinks it’s a piece of junk.”

At that Ghost stopped jumping and stared at her brother, their hands going to their hips in an amusing imitation of him that Sokka didn’t seem to realize.

Katara cleared her throat. “No offence Aang, but I’ll hold the money from now on.”

Aang reluctantly put the last two copper pieces into Katara’s outstretched hand, ignoring Ghost who was making grabbing motions at the transfer happening over their head.

Money safely stored, the group took off down one of the many rows of shops and stalls that lined the port’s market, with Katara keeping a careful eye on Ghost by holding onto their hand as they wandered about.

Eventually, they wandered down by the docks where venders were hawking their sails in booming voices.

“You there!” a man in Earth Kingdom green shouted, sprinting up to them, “I can see from your clothing that you’re world travelling types. Perhaps I can interest you in some exotic curios?”

“Sure!” Aang said, immediately distracted as Ghost started tugging at her hand. “What are curios?”

The man blinked. “I’m not entirely sure, but we got ‘em!” He eagerly put his hand behind Aang’s back and started walking him towards the boat docked behind him.

Katara shared a look with her brother. Sokka just shrugged, utterly defeated, and she gave into Ghost’s tugging and together the three of them followed Aang onto the boat.

The interior was filled with all sorts of unusual things, from rugs and wall hangings to odd golden statuettes. There were too many items to look at and Ghost wriggled out of Katara’s grip and wandered over towards Aang.

“I’ve never seen such a beast like that before. I bet it could fetch me a hefty sum if you’re interested in bartering.”

Katara peeled herself away from an odd statuette that had her attention to see who had spoken. A tall man with greying hair and an iguana-parrot on his shoulder had emerged from a dark entryway and was leering down at Ghost.

“Ghost is a person, and isn’t for sale,” Aang said, scooping them up from where it looked like they were contemplating murder. They clung to his shoulder, continuing to death-stare the stranger from their new perch.

Katara kept wandering the interior of the ship, content that Aang had an eye on Ghost and their kleptomaniac ways. Her eyes caught on a scroll sitting innocuously on a shelf, the iconic Water Tribe waves adorning its cap.

Delicately, she unraveled it to reveal images and text of waterbending forms.

“Look at this Aang!” she called out, unwilling to tear her eyes away from real, actual forms written by an actual waterbender. “It’s a waterbending scroll. Check out these crazy moves!” She placed the scroll down on a nearby surface so Aang could get a better look.

Aang’s footsteps approached behind her and she could feel him lean in to see the scroll.

“Where did you get a waterbending scroll?” Aang asked excitedly.

A large hand slammed down on top of the scroll, and Katara crinkled her nose at the rough handling of it as the man from before started to roll it up. “Let’s just say I got I up north at a most reasonable price – free.” He jammed it back into the shelf Katara had picked it up from originally.

“Wait a minute,” Sokka said, turning to face them, “Sea loving traders with suspiciously acquired merchandise? And pet reptile-birds? You guys are pirates!” He finished off by wheeling towards the man who had brought them into the shop in the first place.

The man put a sleazy arm around her brother’s shoulders. “We prefer to think of ourselves as high-risk traders.”

Katara fished out the rest of the group’s money. Two copper pieces was practically nothing, but she would hate herself forever if she didn’t even ask. After all, a waterbending scroll belonged with a waterbender. She made her way over towards the counter the pirate captain had positioned himself behind. “So, how much for the, uh, traded scroll?”

“I’ve already got a buyer – a nobleman in the Earth Kingdom,” the captain said, before leaning forward with a smirk, “Unless, of course, you kids have two hundred gold pieces on you right now.”

Aang tugged at Katara’s sleeve, pulling her aside. “I know how to deal with these guys. Pirates love to haggle,” he held out his hand. Katara stared at it unconvinced for a moment. There was no way that the pirates would be able to be haggled down to two copper pieces. But Aang’s haggling might make a good distraction. Katara put the last of their money in his outstretched hand. “Watch and learn,” Aang said, smiling widely.

From Aang’s shoulder Ghost watched the transaction before glancing at the pirate captain. They immediately dropped down and disappeared into the clutter of the ship.

As soon as Aang moved to haggle with the captain Katara tried to subtly move towards the waterbending scroll. She glanced around. The captain was distracted by Aang, and Sokka was still with the other pirate. No one was looking at her. Carefully, she went to the shelf that the scroll was on only to discover that it wasn’t there. Instead, it was in the hands of a tiny, kleptomaniac spirit child, who had their head tilted back to look at her without a hint of guilt.  

“Ghost!” she hissed as loudly as she dared. “Give me the scroll!”

Ghost did not give her the scroll. Instead, they put the end of the scroll next to the eyehole in their mask and simply … dropped it in, the scroll disappearing into darkness almost immediately.

Katara shuddered, tears leaking out from tightly shut eyes. It was one thing to know that Ghost wasn’t really a solid person behind their mask, but another thing entirely to be blatantly reminded of it.

Rubbing at the tears, she forced herself to move, scooping Ghost up and letting the chilly spirit child cling to her. She quickly walked over to Aang, who looked like he had succeeded in haggling about as much as she expected him to.

“Aang, can we get out of here?” Katara asked, tugging at the boy’s shoulder. “I feel like we’re getting weird looks.”

“Aye! We be casting off now!” Aang said in a ridiculous pirate voice before following her as she snagged Sokka by the arm to lead him out of the interior of the boat.

It was only when they were heading down the gangplank that Aang spoke up about their sudden departure. “What was that all about Katara?”

“Yeah, I was just starting to browse through their boomerang collection!”

Katara glanced down at Ghost, who was starting to wriggle in her hold. They probably wanted to show off their loot to the others. Katara tightened her grip ever so slightly. “I’ll just feel a lot better once we get away from here.”

It was at that moment that an angry hoard of pirates spilled out of the boat shouting at them to stop.

After an exciting run around the market, a successful ice trick, one destroyed cabbage cart, and a quick flight to safety Katara was more than ready to settle down for the rest of the day and learn what the scroll had to offer.

“I used to kinda look up to pirates,” Aang said, tucking the wings of his glider back into his staff, “but those guys are terrible!”

Katara snuck a quick look down at Ghost. The spirit child had clung to her during their flight, but now that they were back on the ground it looked like they were ready to wander off.

“Ahem,” Katara cleared her throat, and Ghost’s head snapped over to look at her. “Don’t you have something you want to share with us, Ghost?”

Ghost continued to stare at her with their undiscernible mask before reluctantly rummaging around under their cloak. A moment later their hands returned, holding the waterbending scroll close to themself.

Aang shot up. “No way!”

“No wonder those pirates were trying to hack us up! You stole their scroll! I can’t believe you’d do that, Ghost!” Sokka looked almost disappointed, and there was some heat in his words that Ghost seemed to pick up on. They simply shrugged, still clutching the scroll tight.

Katara frowned at her brother. “Sokka, where do you think they got it? They had to have stolen it from a waterbender. Besides, if Ghost hadn’t beaten me to it, I would have taken it myself.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head before kneeling down to be on Ghost’s level, placing a hand on the child’s shoulder, speaking gently yet firmly. “You put all of our lives in danger by taking that scroll. Stealing is wrong.” Was he actually trying to give Ghost some moral lessons?

Aang laughed. “Sokka, you do realize that Ghost likes to pick up things and take them with them all the time, right?”

“What?! No, they don’t do that!”

“Yes, they do. They don’t seem to have a good grasp on the concept of personal property.” Katara walked over to stand next to Ghost, who kept turning their head to stare at whoever was talking and settled to stare up at her when she placed her hand on top of their head. “Besides, them taking this scroll means that Aang and I can learn some real waterbending forms. You know how important it is that he learns waterbending.”

Sokka looked unhappy. He pushed himself up with a sigh. “Whatever,” he said tossing a quick frown over his shoulder at Ghost before storming off up the riverbank.

Ghost looked as confused as they could, tilting their head at Sokka as he left them, and Katara took the advantage to slip the scroll out from their slack hands. They did not protest; instead, they started moving to go after Sokka, their little cloak fanning out behind them as they ran.

“Well, what’s done is done. We have the scroll now, so we might as well learn from it.” Aang flashed her a reassuring smile, ruined when he shot a quick glance towards the two figures retreating up the riverbank.

“Right,” Katara said with a nod, eagerly unraveling the scroll. “What do you want to try and learn first?”

Sokka sat on a rock upriver from the others, within shouting distance but hopefully not splashing distance of the two benders. He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water, watching as the ripples were instantly carried away by the current. He let out a sigh.

He tried to rationalize his emotions. It wasn’t exactly that he was mad at Ghost for being a little thief, those pirates probably deserved it. It wasn’t even that he was upset that Ghost had made the pirates attack them needlessly; traveling with Aang ensured that they would get attacked at regular intervals whenever someone discovered that he was the Avatar. No, the thing that was getting to him was that there was something about his little buddy that he hadn’t noticed. He liked to think that he was getting better at recognizing their body language – the subtle tilt of their head or the slight tensing of their shoulders. Ghost may not be able to speak but Sokka was learning their mannerisms through diligent observations. He was improving, at least when it came to making them comfortable.

He picked up another pebble, but this time turned it over in his hand, worrying the smooth surface with his thumb.

Soft footsteps approached, the cold presence stopping behind him. After a few minutes of Sokka refusing to turn and look the presence moved closer until Ghost hopped up onto the rock next to him before sitting down and looking out at the river. Sokka watched in mild amusement as Ghost slowly crept their hand towards him, until it pressed against his knee, a barely discernable weight mostly apparent from the chill it left on his leg. Sokka let out another sigh.

“I’m not mad at you Ghost. Not really.” The child’s head snapped up to look at him, their wide empty eyes staring at him for a few seconds before the pressed their full body against his side in a hug that didn’t even go halfway around his torso. Sokka wrapped his arm around them in turn and gave them a gentle squeeze. Ghost really was tiny; it was surprising that they could hit so hard when they weighed less than the children back home.

 And thinking of the children of the Southern Water Tribe helped focus on what was upsetting him. He tapped the pebble against his knee, schooling his thoughts into something that would make sense.

“Y’know Ghost, back home Katara and I are the oldest children of the water tribe. My dad and the other warriors left to go fight two years ago when I was thirteen. I wanted to go with them but they told me I was too young.”

Ghost tilted their head up to stare at him, listening with rapt attention. Sokka moved his hand to rest on their back, noticing a slight bump under their cloak. Perhaps it was where their shining wings rested when not in use.

“Since I was the oldest man in the village I’ve always felt it was my job to keep an eye on the children of the Tribe, to teach them how to be good warriors, make sure they grow up with a good role model.

“All this time you’ve been with us I’ve been thinking of you like one of the children back home. Someone who’s young and needs protection and guidance. But that’s not right, because I’ve seen you fight and problem solve and act autonomous. But I’ve seen you acting curious and childlike as well.

Sokka tapped the pebble against his knee, steadfastly refusing to look at their mask. “And I know you can’t really tell me, but am I doing right by you Ghost? I want to be able to treat you like you’d prefer to be treated. I want to be doing better than when we first met.”

Ghost popped into his vision suddenly, stepping lightly onto Sokka’s leg to be at eyelevel with him. They tapped themself on the chest again before tapping Sokka on his chest, the touch sending a cold ripple through him. The stepped back, staring at him, probably waiting for a response.

“I- I’m sorry Ghost. I don’t understand.”

Ghost just nodded and gently patted his shoulder, like they expected that to be his response.

They then promptly sat down in his lap.

Speechless, Sokka was left to watch as they rummaged around under their cloak for a moment before drawing out some rolled up paper. He recognized the first one when they unrolled it, the drawing of Ghost with their family. Ghost patted the image fondly before unrolling another piece of paper. Sokka noticed that the texture of the paper was odd, it was almost more like a fabric, but as soon as the new piece was spread out his breath hitched.

Here's the thing. Somewhere in the back of his mind Sokka was aware that Ghost would spend some time drawing. When traveling on Appa they would spend some of their time looking over the edge of the saddle at thew world passing by below, some of their time sitting up front with Aang, and some of their time bent over their papers using a scruffy and well used feather-pen to draw. But they always leaned protectively over their drawings, never letting him or Katara or Aang see what they were making outside of the picture of their family that they would show off wherever they went.

But this – this was him. A bunch of drawings, or more accurately sketches, done by Ghost of Sokka and Katara and Aang and even Appa. Over and over again, images of the group, of Sokka making different facial expressions, of Katara’s hair shifting in the wind, of Aang in different poses with his staff. It was as if Ghost was practicing. No, Ghost was practicing.

Ghost pulled out a final piece of the odd clothlike paper and spread it out.

“Oh wow,” Sokka breathed. This drawing was of the group, done in the same style of the portrait of Ghost’s family. Ghost was front and center in the image, their mask standing out starkly in the inked lines, but directly above them was Aang, with Katara and himself standing on either side, their arms around the Avatar’s shoulders. Curling around the group was Appa; the drawing had even managed to capture the fluffiness of his fur.

Ghost patted the drawing of the group before pulling it and the other drawings up, hugging them close to their chest, and nuzzling against Sokka’s chest. They pulled back to stare at him again. They were treating the drawing of the group with the same reverence and care that they did the drawing of their family.

“Does this mean we’re okay?” Sokka whispered.

Ghost nodded fiercely, before hopping up out of his lap. They paused for a moment before picking up the pebble Sokka was still holding loosely in his hand.

“Hey!” he complained half-heartedly as Ghost tucked their hands under their cloak and started running back towards the others. They paused and stared back at him, only starting to move again when he stood up and started to follow them.

The crescent moon was high in the sky and the campfire starting to burn low by the time everyone else had fallen asleep, and Katara had spent the entire time in her sleeping bag stewing over her failed waterbending attempts from that evening. How was it that Aang who had no experience waterbending was already better than her when she had years of self-taught practice? The water whip shouldn’t even be that hard based off the instructions on the scroll and she was unbelievably frustrated at her own inability to master it.

There was also the stinging guilt of how she had snapped at Aang. She knew that her outburst had genuinely hurt him and she didn’t want her apology to be hollow.

With her mind racing as it was now there was very little chance of her falling asleep and the scroll was right there in Sokka’s bag, practically beckoning her. She could just take the scroll down to the river and practice for an hour or two by moonlight to master the move. No one would have to know.

As quietly as she could, Katara wiggled her way out of her sleeping bag and carefully pulled the waterbending scroll out of Sokka’s bag, keeping her eyes on the two sleeping figures at camp. She backed away slowly making sure neither of them were stirring before wheeling around only to have her heart practically jump out of her throat. Two empty eye sockets stared at her while Ghost’s pale mask was eerily lit by the dying flames. The spirit child crossed their arms and stared at her from their perch on a tree stump.

Katara had one hand over her racing heart but removed it to cup Ghost’s mask. “Ghost, go back to sleep,” she whispered but they shook her hand off them and pointed towards the scroll, looking as accusing as an expressionless mask would allow them to, and Katara felt her guilt rising up again like bile in her throat.

Swallowing it back down, she clutched the scroll closer to herself. “I’m sorry Ghost, but I really need to do this. I won’t be able to rest until I get this move.” Ghost didn’t move to wake the others, so Katara took them to be silently assenting to letting her go. “I won’t be gone too long,” she whispered to them as she moved around their stump and towards the river. They turned to watch her leave; a dark silhouette backlit by the flickering fire.

She turned away from them and moved forward with determination. Once at the river she took little time in draping open the scroll over a nearby rock and getting into the starting stance depicted in the instructions.

It wasn’t long before her attempts to stream the uncooperative water went from coherent to flailing motions that could only loosely be defined as waterbending.

“Okay Katara,” she said trying to tamp down on her frustration at the wobbly stream of water she was making float in front of her, “shift your weight through the stances.” The water lost its consistency and dispersed to the ground as unconsolidated droplets. She let out a disgusted noise at her own failure.

An unexpected noise broke the otherwise peaceful night and Katara froze. It sounded like something scraping against the ground further upstream. Cautiously, she moved towards the bushes obscuring her view and shifted some leaves out of her way. A boat was grounded on the shoreline, the moonlight glistening off of its metallic surface.

Katara gasped. She would recognize the unique style of a Fire Nation boat anywhere, the distinctive smokestacks still spewing coal-fed steam. She immediately turned and started running back towards camp, she had to warn the others they had to move now, but before she could go more than a few steps she ran into something.

She vaguely recognized the bare-chested man as one of the pirates that they had stolen the waterbending scroll from earlier that day as she struggled to get out of his hands that had come down around her shoulders.

“No! Let go of me!” she screamed before realizing that she could still move her arms. Panic fueled effort made pulling a stream of river water and lashing it out into her captor’s face easy, and the man let go of her as he started to splutter. She started to sprint away again, but someone else blocked her way.

Vice-like grip captured her wrists as she stared into the scarred face.

“I’ll save you from the pirates,” Prince Zuko said and Katara froze for a second, processing what he had said.

“Let go of me!” she shouted again, trying to tug her arms free but Zuko didn’t yield. Changing tactics, she kicked out at him, attempting to get him in the shin, groin, anywhere to make him let go. Zuko just snorted, shifting his grip on her until Katara found herself off-balanced and flipped around, back pressed to his chest and no longer able to kick at him. Wordlessly he dragged her towards a nearby tree as the beach was suddenly filled with people – where did they all come from? – both pirates and firebenders alike.

Zuko had her tied to the tree before she could make another escape attempt, and she clenched her fists in her bindings. His masked firebenders were standing behind him, and his portly uncle just off to the side, closer to where the pirates from before were lumped together in front of their beached boat.

Zuko stood stiffly in front of her. “Tell me where he is and I won’t hurt you or your brother.”

“Go jump in the river,” she spat out with as much venom as she could inject into it.

Zuko’s expression changed into something almost akin to sympathetic. It wasn’t going to fool her.

“Try to understand. I need to capture him to restore something I lost,” The prince approached her, circling around the tree while Katara did her best to ignore him, despite the way he was practically whispering in her ear. He continued, “My honor. Perhaps in exchange I can restore something you lost.”

His hands came up around her neck, holding something achingly familiar.

“My mother’s necklace! How did you get that?”

“I didn’t steal it if that’s what you’re wondering,” Zuko said, wandering away from her and back towards his men. Katara’s eyes followed the glinting pendant as it disappeared into Zuko’s pocket before meeting his eyes to glare at him.

“Tell me where he is.”

“No!”

The pirates had been standing silently to the side, watching the events unfold But after her last outburst the captain seemed to lose patience. “Enough of this necklace garbage,” he growled out, “You promised us the scroll.”

“I wonder how much money this is worth,” Zuko said as he pulled the waterbending scroll out from his belt and holding it over a handful of flames. “A lot apparently,” he said as all the pirates tensed up. “Now, you help me find what I want, you’ll get this back, and everyone goes home happy.”

Ghost was concerned. Katara still wasn’t back yet. She said she wasn’t going to be gone for too long, but they could tell that the sun was going to rise soon.

They didn’t like the sun. It reminded them too much of Her. The moon was much better, despite its similarities to the Pale Light. The way it waxed and waned in a cyclical pattern comforted Ghost for some reason. Or maybe it was just that the shadows that it cast were much more familiar, reminding them of the low levels of lighting in their underground home.

They glanced over to the sleeping figures remaining in their camp. Their other friends were still out, completely unaware of their missing member of the group.

Ghost didn’t want to leave them unattended. Bad things happened to their friends when they wandered away from them. Myla got infected. Tiso got mauled by a Mawlek. They had left Hollow behind to suffer for centuries before they returned to Hallownest. And maybe they had been able to reunite with some of their friends, but not all of them. Ghost couldn’t help but think of a tranquil beach devoid of life, the last place they had seen Quirrel.

They stared at their sleeping companions. Aang and Sokka would be safe, still here by the time they got back. It was Katara now that they needed to find, to ensure that she was safe.

They stood up from their perch on the tall tree stump that they had been keeping watch from, looking back towards their friends one last time before hopping down and silently trudging in the direction that Katara had disappeared off into.

Ghost tried to stretch their senses out, feeling for the flash of Soul that the benders used when they performed their elemental magic. They couldn’t sense anything, but their straining almost made them miss the sound of approaching footsteps.

Ghost froze. There were too many people for it to be Katara returning, and for once showing a hint of caution they jumped up into a tree, clinging to the rough bark with both the Mantis Claw and their own claws on their feet to observe the humans wandering by, grousing to each other.

“Catch the girl, find the boy,” the bigger, bare-chested human grumbled and Ghost was shocked to recognize them as one of the pirates they had requisitioned the waterbending scroll Katara wanted so badly from, “The Captain should teach that prince a lesson about manners instead of making us play this stupid game for the scroll.”

“Shut up,” said a leaner human, another pirate, “That scroll is worth more than your life. Besides, the sooner we find the boy, the sooner we can get the scroll back and slit his royal highnesses throat.”

The first pirate let out a bark of laughter, but otherwise said nothing as they wandered off. Ghost watched them, calculating the direction they were heading in. They weren’t heading directly towards the camp, but if they veered to the right at all in their search they would find their friends.

Ghost looked in the direction the pirates had come from. Katara was that way, being held hostage by a prince? Wasn’t that one human that they hit with the Dream Nail a prince? Prince Zuzo or something like that? The one who was thinking about his honor as he burned down a village. He was hunting Aang, but if he was smart, he would use Aang’s friends as bait.

If Ghost was fast they might be able to save her before the pirates found their other companions. Or they could head back, dispose of the pirates searching for their friends, and rescue Katara with the help of Aang and Sokka, if they could get the two humans to understand what was going on.

On second thought it might be better to get rid of the pirates and let the boys sleep some more. There was no way that Ghost would be able to communicate the hostage situation before Aang and Sokka ran right into a trap.

Ghost bowed their head for a moment before taking off back towards camp. It might be easier to rescue Katara without the boy’s interference, but for now Katara was relatively safe as a hostage. There was no telling if the boys would be so if the pirates got to them first. They felt a stab of what must be anger towards the pirates. All this trouble over a scroll that they couldn’t even read or use? Perhaps Ghost should just stick to picking up items that were unguarded, or at least ones that they had removed the guards from first.

Moving as quickly and quietly as they were able to Ghost made their way back to where they left their companions. They didn’t make it very far before a commotion drew their attention up ahead. There was shouting and grunting and Ghost got close enough to hear Sokka call out “Oh what, I’m not good enough to kidnap?” before he let out a yelp.

Ghost ducked into a bush just in time as a whole hoard of pirates ran by, dragging their friends in nets behind them. There must have been more pirates searching the forest for them. Ghost waited for them to pass before climbing out of the bush and brushing a few stray leaves off their cloak.

They dropped their head into their hands, letting out a solid thunk in frustration. Now all their friends were hostages, it would make a rescue even harder. Ghost would have to be sneaky, lest one of the pirates decide to threaten their friends lives in order to subdue them.

Ghost crept after the pirates staying as close to the humans as they could without alerting them of their presence. Hornet once told them that despite their inability to speak they were about as subtle as a moss charger when moving around, but right now with their soft footsteps and lack of reckless dashing they liked to think they might one day be a good hunter like their sister. Or maybe even as quiet as Hollow, who never seemed to make a sound.

They missed their siblings.

By the time they caught up to the pirates they had already reached the river, and Ghost observed what was starting to look like a much bigger confrontation.

On one side was the pirates, holding Aang and Sokka hostage, tied up with ropes, their ship beached on the riverbank behind them. On the other side there were Fire Nation soldiers lead by Prince Zulu, guarding Katara who was tied to a tree.

Ghost could jump out and attack the groups, and they were decently confident that they could take out a large number of them, but while their friends were tied up it would be too easy for them to get hurt.

They suddenly remembered why they liked traveling on their own. They preferred having friends and family to being by themself, but still, not worrying about collateral damage was nice too. At least Grimmchild and the Weaverlings were tied to charms that had protective magic built into them. They were next to impossible to damage unless the charms themselves were somehow destroyed.

Cursing silently, Ghost started to climb a nearby tree with their borrowed Mantis Claw, clinging to the trunk. They’d have to wait to see if they could get the drop on their opponents, especially if the two opposing groups decided to attack each other. With the way the lead pirate was glaring at Prince Zuno, it seemed more than likely.

Ghost observed as Prince Zuzu approached the pirates with the scroll in hand. They felt what they recognized as irritation; they would have to re-requisition the scroll if they wanted to give it back to Aang and Katara, but it probably wouldn’t be worth risking lives over. Maybe they could find another scroll on their journey somewhere, like the many journals spread throughout Hallownest that Lemm liked so much.

They couldn’t quite make out the words she was saying as Katara called out to the others. Whatever she said, Aang responded to her. A different human, a round one with grey hair and an armored thorax turned to say something to Katara but stopped halfway through the motion and stared at the tree Ghost was in. Ghost froze. The human wasn’t looking at them, were they?

The rotund human stared towards them a moment longer before their attention snapped back towards the pirates and the prince as they seemed to be arguing. The prince shouted, “Shut your mouth you water tribe peasant!” pointing viciously towards Sokka. Ghost bristled, their Void agitated and thrumming through them like hemolymph would in a living bug.

The pirate captain said something and turned his back on the Fire Nation soldiers, the other pirates shepherding Aang and Sokka with them. With one last shout Prince Zuko – that’s his name – and his soldiers attacked with triple bursts of fire.

Ghost tensed, but the pirates jumped out of the way of the blasts before retaliating. In a matter of moments the shoreline was covered in smoke, the sound of clashing weapons, and the occasional burst of fire. All of the combatants had disappeared along with Sokka and Aang in the cloud of smoke but Katara was still tied to the tree, straining at her bindings.

Ghost hopped down from where they were clinging and dashed towards Katara.

“Ghost!” she shouted when they got close. They patted her knee before observing the bindings holding her to the tree. They were a rope of some sort, and with a careful calculation and a short jump Ghost was able to slash cleanly though them with the sharp tip of their nail. “I owe you one,” she said taking a moment to pat their horn gently before taking off towards the river. She probably wanted to be close to the source of water to more effectively use her Soul fed magic.

Ghost was about to follow her when they realized someone was watching them. They turned to see the grey-haired human from earlier staring at them. Unlike all the others, this one seemed to have no desire to join the fray happening just ahead of them. Instead, the human’s eyes were scrutinizing them, and as they watched they widened, and their face quickly went through a series of emotions, too fast for Ghost to be able to label them with their limited experience with human expressions.

“How –” the human started but was interrupted when a figure was thrown out of the smoke cloud. Both the human and Ghost turned to see Prince Zuko facing the pirate captain, and Ghost was quick spot the waterbending scroll hanging from his belt. Now was their change to reclaim their scroll!

Ignoring the round human, they watched the prince and the pirate trade blows with both flames and cleaving nail. Ghost jumped onto the tree Katara had been tied to, clinging to the rough bark with their feet as they prepared the Crystal Heart to blast off. The energy built up quickly, and they released it to rocket towards the prince’s back and flapping the Monarch Wings to stop their momentum before they plowed into him, snagging the scroll off his belt before landing and dashing away. A moment later and they were Crystal Dashing across the river, tucking the scroll safely into their Void-pocket.

Something screeched, too close for comfort and Ghost barely had the chance to turn to look before something collided with them mid-air, sending them both into the river.

The water was turbulent, but more importantly something was clinging to their cloak, which hurt, since their cloak was part of them and claws tearing it was unpleasant. They struggled to get a look at what was tearing at them, pulling them down into the water. A flash of colors, green and red, with feathers and scales. The little beast the pirate captain kept. It was less attacking them now and more struggling to get back to the surface. It didn’t matter to Ghost; they didn’t have to breathe, but the creature was causing them significant pain with its thrashing. Working around the flailing beast, they managed to draw their nail and wedge it between themself and the little beast, pushing down and away, slashing it with the sharp tip in the process and regaining some Soul as well. They watched impassively as the strange red hemolymph of beasts swirled into the water, their assailant sinking to the bottom before they burst through the surface.

Ghost managed to swim to the bank, the current having dragged them a fair distance downstream from where they entered it. Shaking water out of their mask’s eye sockets, Ghost took a moment to focus, healing away the tears in their cloak with the Soul from their reserves, before looking around to see what had happened while they had been under. Far upstream, the smoke cloud had dissipated, but rapidly approaching their position were two boats; the pirate’s and a metal one that resembled the ships of the Fire Nation. Confusingly enough, the pirate’s boat was devoid of pirates but instead had Ghost’s friends controlling it. The Fire Nation boat was devoid of Fire Nation soldiers, but instead was full of pirates, and was coming up alongside the other boat.

Pulling out the Crystal Heart again, Ghost prepared another dash, sailing easily over the river and intercepting the boat their friends were on, alternating between the Mantis Claw and the Monarch Wings to climb the wooden hull faster. Just before they made it over the side a pirate came flying off the deck over their head, and they pulled themself over in time to see Katara relaxing, the hints of her Soul-fed water magic settling around her.  

“Ghost!” she shouted, moving towards them as Aang landed gently on the deck just behind her. “Where did you come from? Are you alright?”

They nodded and looked at Aang who was grinning widely at Katara. “Nice water whip!”

She beamed back at him, “I couldn’t have done it without your help!”

“Will you two quite congratulating yourselves and help me out?”

Ghost whipped around to find Sokka only to see their friend was pinning one pirate with his legs while the other had him around the neck. Before they could reach him, the pirates got the upper hand and threw him bodily into the sails of the boat.

Quicker than Ghost, Aang moved towards the pirates with the ambient Soul gathering around him. Though the air itself was invisible, its effect was not and Ghost could see the way the Soul-fueled air spun the pirates around, launching them off the boat.

Ghost jumped down to where Sokka had landed, ignoring whatever Katara was shouting at. They gently placed their hand on Sokka’s back. He sat up with a groan, before looking at them. “I’m alright, little buddy,” he said, before rubbing their mask between their horns.

A piercing sound fille the air and Ghost glanced around wildly to find the source. One deck above them Aang was being confronted by a pirate and for some reason he was fending them off with the noisy whistle he had gotten at the market yesterday. It didn’t seem to have much effect, since the pirate just looked confused.

Next to them, Sokka pushed himself to his feet and Ghost watched the human dart up a stairway to the higher deck, just in time to kick the pirate over the side of the boat, yelling something about flutes to Aang and gesturing towards the front of the boat. Ghost was too short to see what he was pointing at, so they moved towards the bow of the boat, hopping onto the figure head and – oh. There was a massive waterfall ahead. That was indeed something they should probably worry about.

Ghost glanced around but they couldn’t see anything that they could use to stop or slow the boat. They briefly wished they knew how to spin Soul-silk like their sister. Then they could throw out a line and pull their friends to safety, but without Hornet here that wasn’t an option.

A tingling of Soul behind them caused them to turn around and look. Aang and Katara were bending again and it took them a moment to figure out what their spells were doing. They were pulling at the water around the boat, causing the whole thing to slow down and turn in place. A pair of whirlpools formed around the boat, holding them steady, and Ghost jumped down to meet their friends on the deck.

“We’ve got another problem!” Sokka shouted as they landed next to him and out of the way of the benders. Jumping up to see over the railing Ghost caught a glimpse of the incoming Fire Nation boat a moment before it slammed into their boat, dislodging it from the whirlpools and tilting the deck steeply as the boat started to go over the falls.

“Jump!” Aang yelled, and Ghost could only stare at him as someone grabbed their hand and pulled them over the edge. What was he thinking? Ghost could survive the fall, they’d survived worse, but humans were not as durable as Vessels. They spread out the Monarch Wings, hoping desperately to slow their fall into something resembling a controlled decent, but it barely made a difference with the chain of heavier humans they were attached to, someone screaming the entire time.

Wind whipped by them, fanning out their cloak and they tightened their grip on Sokka as much as they could without piercing his skin with their claws. Everything was happening too fast, but before they could reach their watery impact something fuzzy appeared underneath the group and they were practically plucked out of the air by their furry savior.

Ghost sat up on Appa’s saddle, the Bison letting out a loud growl and swooping away from what sounded like an impressive crunch of wood, metal, and water.

“I knew a bison whistle would come in handy,” Aang said, holding the aforementioned whistle up. “Thanks Appa.”

“Yeah. We owe you one,” Sokka said from where he was still sprawled out on the back of the saddle as Katara sat up from where she had landed. Appa let out a grunt, and Ghost moved towards his head to give him a thankful pat. The giant creature seemed to lean into it, and Ghost was reminded of the Old Stag and the way he would lean into head pats too whenever Ghost came to visit him. They missed the old bug.

They missed all of their people back in Hallownest. The empty ache in their Void was strong, and they pressed their hand to the Kings Brand on their shoulder and waited. Their human companions chatted while they waited, holding still. A buzzing answered in their void, a comforting tingle of their larger sibling, as if Hollow was scooping them up in their hand and cradling them close. A moment later and a warmth spread over their carapace and they could almost hear Hornet whisper I am here, little Ghost.

They glanced at their human companions, happy and oblivious. They didn’t want to ruin their mood. Ghost wandered back towards the group, pulling the scroll out of their Void-pocket and presenting it to Katara. Their human friends seemed happy enough, making jokes and chatting as they flew further north, but all Ghost could do was lean against Sokka for comfort, tapping at their brand and feeling their siblings taps in return.

Chapter Text

Ghost really didn’t mind walking. They spent most of their life walking from one place to another, wandering the wastes outside of Hallownest for ages before being called back. They didn’t mind walking instead of flying if it made Sokka feel more secure about staying safe and out of sight after spotting some Fire Nation traps. They didn’t mind the Water Tribe siblings arguing, but Ghost did wonder if they and Hornet would be the same way if they could snipe at her as easily as Katara and Sokka could.

They didn’t even mind running directly into Fire Nation soldiers and not even having to fight them since the group was rescued by the human called Jet and his Freedom Fighters, since it gave them a new friendly group of people to show the drawing of their siblings to, though based off their reactions it seemed none of them had seen any bugs before.

What they did mind was how out of sorts Sokka was acting. Ghost could tell that he was upset, what with how he kept throwing dirty looks towards Jet and frowning at Katara. Katara was acting a little odd too, reminding them oddly enough of Bretta in her behavior directly after they had helped her escape the Fugal Wastes.

The sibling’s behavior had them on edge, and the bottom line was that Jet was the cause of their behavior changes.

So, Ghost would observe him. Jet’s earlier assault on the Fire Nation soldiers that they had run into had been efficient. He clearly knew how to use his odd, curved nails, and his confidence in his fighting almost made them think of Hornet. Their movements were both efficient and took advantage of the terrain, making them clever and dangerous opponents.

But that was about where the similarities between him and their sister ended. Hornet was more private and self-reliant. One would have to prove their worth to be trusted by her, but while she wore a harsh exterior like armor, she was kindhearted to any in need. Not always kind in words, but kind in actions.

Jet was a leader with a crew of children drawn into his wake. Ghost could see that he was charismatic with the way he spoke to his followers. Ghost was also sure that the odd little half smile he wore was not as nice as the genuine ones that other humans wore. It was a self-serving, smug little look.

It wasn’t until later that evening as the humans were eating dinner that Ghost figured out what might be bothering Sokka.

Jet’s speech against the Fire Nation was filled with heated anger that riled up the rest of the Freedom Fighters. That was understandable, the Fire Nation had done some horrible things to these people, and Ghost could understand the desire to strike back when they had the chance. It was the same reason they smacked the Pale King’s corpse around for a while in the Dream of the White Palace.

“Hey Jet,” Katara said, leaning forward in her sitting position between Ghost and Aang, “Nice speech.”

“Thanks,” Jet said, moving to sit next to Katara and forcing Ghost to quickly slip out of the way closer to Sokka or be sat on without so much as a backward look as Jet stared at Katara. “By the way, I was really impressed with you and Aang. That was some great bending I saw out their today.”

“Well, he’s great. He is the Avatar,” Katara said, glancing at Aang, “I could use some more training.”

“Avatar, huh? Very nice.”

“Thanks Jet!”

Ghost turned to look at Sokka, who was still glaring at the other boy. Jet seemed to either be completely unaware, or purposefully ignoring him. Either way, he switched topics.

“So I might know a way that you and Aang can help in our struggle.” And oh, now it made sense. Jet was trying to manipulate their friends. He saw them as assets and wanted to take advantage.

“Unfortunately, we have to leave tonight,” Sokka said, standing up and grabbing Ghost’s and pulling them up too as he started to walk away. Ghost looked up at Sokka. Perhaps his instincts weren’t as bad as the others were making it out to seem if he had picked up on Jet’s manipulations.

“Sokka, you’re kidding me,” Jet said, finally looking towards the other human boy, “I needed you on an important mission tomorrow.”

Sokka froze and turned around. “What mission?”

Ghost wanted to bang their head against the tree they were in. Apparently Sokka’s instincts were easily overridden by his pride.

But in the end Ghost supposed it didn’t matter if they stayed to help out Jet’s Freedom Fighters for another day. Maybe having his ego soothed would help Sokka feel better, and the siblings would go back to acting like normal.

Sokka felt dirty. Maybe he didn’t attack the old man, but it still happened on his watch and there was nothing he could do to change that.

He did not like Jet.

He didn’t like his stupid hay, or his stupid hook-swords. He really didn’t like the way Jet was dismissive towards Ghost, telling them that they ‘were too small for the mission he wanted Sokka on’. If Jet ever got to see Ghost fight, he would have to eat his own words.

But no. Katara wouldn’t want to listen to him because she was too busy mooning over her new boyfriend, and Aang wouldn’t want to listen because he was too busy being a little kid and having fun. There had to be some way to approach them and convince the group to leave.

Speaking of Aang, Sokka could hear his laughing and getting closer.

“Sokka, check out what The Duke just gave me!” Aang said, landing on the platform Sokka was currently sitting (and definitely not moping) on, followed by Ghost, who dropped down from who-knows-where. Sokka glanced at him long enough to see Aang pull out what appeared to be a pellet of some sort and throw it at the ground, causing a bang and a spark with impact. The miniature explosion happened too close to Ghost, who jumped away before jumping onto Aang and snatching the remaining pellets from his bag.

“Hey! Give them back!” Aang called out as Ghost darted away before chasing them around the platform.

Sokka hunched back over, frowning at his lap. Something was off here with the Freedom Fighters, and he didn’t want to have to stay here any longer than necessary.

Over the sounds of Aang chasing Ghost there were some lighter footsteps as someone approached his spot. It was only after she spoke up that he realized it was Katara.

“Hey Sokka. Is Jet back?”

There really wouldn’t be a good way to convince them to leave as soon as possible, but he had to try. Sitting up, Sokka turned to look his sister in the eye. “Yeah, he’s back. But we’re leaving.”

“What?” Aang said, sliding to a stop next to him so fast that Ghost ran straight into his legs and fell down on their butt.

“But I made him this hat,” Katara said, pulling an absolutely hideous lump of leaves and flowers out from behind her back.

Sokka decided to just pull the bandage off. “Your boyfriend’s a thug.”

“What?! No, he’s not,” Katara said, not at all denying the boyfriend part.

“Yes, he is! He beat and robbed a harmless old man.” Three sets of eyes stared at him, one angry, one confused, and one perpetually blank.

“I want to hear Jet’s side of the story,” Katara said, arms crossed and clearly displeased.

“Fine by me!” Sokka said, standing up. “Let’s go find him!”

This wasn’t fine. Jet had a way with words that would make whatever Sokka said sound bad, but there would be no other way to dissuade Katara from seeking him out on her own. At least this way, Sokka would be there to speak up for himself.

Together their group made their way through the connected treehouses that made up the Freedom Fighters hideout. Eventually they reached a high up hut that some of the Fighters had helpfully pointed them in the direction of, and Katara wasted no time in whipping open the curtain that served as the door.

Jet sat up suddenly from where he was leaning over a table, talking to several other Freedom Fighters. Sokka recognized the knife girl Smellerbee and the silent archer Longshot.

“Sokka just told me that you assaulted an old man. Is this true?” There’s anger in her voice, but Sokka can’t tell exactly who it is aimed at.

Jet narrowed his eyes before waving a hand towards the other Freedom Fighters “Leave us,” he said, “We need to move up the schedule. Get things ready for later.”

The archer nodded, before turning around and walking out of the hut without sparing them a glance, but Smellerbee glowered at Sokka as she headed out behind him.

“Well?” Katara asked once the others had left.

Jet closed his eyes and sank down onto a bench at the back of the hut. “Sokka, you told them what happened but you didn’t mention the guy was Fire Nation?”

He glared at the older teen, but Jet didn’t look up. Katara on the other hand turned around to shoot him a look. “He conveniently left that part out,” she said, eyeballing him.

Sokka let out a huff. “Fine, but even if he was Fire Nation, he was a harmless civilian.”

“He was a Fire Nation messenger, Sokka,” Jet said, throwing a folded letter of parchment onto the table in front of him. “He was taking an order to the soldiers on the other side of the valley. They’re planning on burning down the forest to smoke us out. You’ve bought us time, Sokka, so now we can plan a counterattack.”

Katara elbowed Sokka in the stomach, which hurt. His sister had boney elbows. “I knew there was an explanation. Sokka, you owe Jet an apology.”

Rubbing his belly, Sokka frowned at the innocuous piece of parchment on the table. “I didn’t see any letter,” he groused, knowing he had already lost this fight. Katara was too enamored with Jet to see him as doing any wrong.

“It was in the bag we took,” Jet said, with a patience that was patronizing.

“I don’t believe you. There was no letter,” he said with gritted teeth.

“You can read it yourself,” Jet said, waving a hand towards the parchment. “In the meantime, we need your two’s help,” Jet said, turning away from Sokka and towards Aang and Katara and completely ignoring Ghost who was pulling the letter off the table and looking at it.

“No.” Sokka said as firmly as he could. “We need to get going. We have to reach the north pole as soon as possible.”

“You can’t leave yet! If the Fire Nation sets the forest ablaze, we will all die. But if, say, a pair of waterbenders were able to help refill the reservoir, we would be able to stop them.”

At the mention of waterbending both Aang’s and Katara’s eyes lit up.

“We can help with that, right Katara?” Aang said excitedly, and Katara nodded.

“No, you can’t help because we are leaving. My instincts are telling me –”

“Your instincts can go shove it!” Katara wheeled around and shouted into his face, stopping him midsentence. “We can help, so we have to help so we will help!” she said, punctuating every word with a jab of her finger in his face. “Just because you don’t like something it doesn’t mean you can make decisions for us! You’re not the leader of our group!”

Sokka was absolutely done with this. “Fine!” he shouted back. “Go fill a reservoir or whatever! But I’m packing our stuff, and we’re leaving as soon as you’re done! We’ve got more important things to be doing, Aang still needs a waterbending master to learn from.”

Distantly, detachedly, Sokka noticed Aang and Ghost both shirking away from them while Jet looked on with a disgusting little smirk. It just made him madder.

“And he’ll get one! After we’ve saved the people here! I’m not willing to abandon them like you are!”

His anger boiled over, and he screamed into his hands out of frustration. “Whatever!” I’m packing, and we’re leaving as soon as you’re done!”

“Fine!” Katara wheeled away from and him and all he could do was storm out of the hut, denied even pleasure of slamming a door by the swath of mocking fabric separating them from the outside world. It was only after he had stomped a down a few ladders and bridges that he noticed he was being followed.

Ghost was following him, just a few paces behind and staring at him with their empty eyes. Sokka froze in his step, some of the tension melting away now that he had time to clear his head.

“Do you still trust me, Ghost?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder at the little spirit. Their head bounced up and down before stopping to stare at him once more. “I don’t trust Jet. Something about him isn’t right.”

Ghost nodded once more before coming closer and patting Sokka’s knee, and a wave of relief went through him. Ghost also thought something was off about Jet, and Ghost probably had better spirit instincts, and didn’t have clouded judgement like Katara did. An idea came to him then, and he bit his lip, trying to think of the best way to employ it, while patting one of Ghost’s horns.

“Can you go back there and keep an eye on Katara and Aang? I want someone I can trust to make sure they stay safe.” Or more accurately, it meant someone could keep an eye on them while Sokka snooped around.

Ghost tilted their head to the side before nodding and turning around to head back the way they came. Sokka watched them set off before he started moving again. He had places to go, people to follow, secrets to learn.

It was easy enough to watch Katara and Aang. Jet had led the two humans to a mostly dry riverbed and set them to pulling water from the ground from thermal vents to fill the reservoir. Ghost had let themself splash around in the warm water and was pleased to feel the rejuvenating source of Soul that came with it.

But even while the waterbenders worked and they observed, they couldn’t help but worry about Sokka. Jet was continuing to upset him, and Ghost would prefer for the group to leave rather than let the other human drive a wedge into their group. Ghost did not want to have to abandon their new friends, at least not without finding their siblings first.

Ghost stood up and shook themself off, trying to rid their cloak of any remaining water. The river was starting to look really full now and Ghost faintly wondered if the water fed into a lake somewhere. Perhaps there was another underground city under it, and it too was experiencing torrential rainfall. Hopefully the hypothetical city would be as good at controlling the waterflow as the City of Tears was.

But that really wasn’t likely. All the cities and towns that hey had visited on the surface so far preferred to be spread out, not confined to the cavernous layers like Hallownest is. There would be no need to build a city underneath a lake when they could just build one next to it.

… Actually, it would make sense for there to be a city or town nearby. The Fire Nation troops wouldn’t be hanging around here for no reason, there must be something close by. Ghost peered downstream, trying to spot any signs of civilization in the distance. Maybe they could go looking for the town and see if they can ask some new people if they have seen their siblings, especially if Katara made them stay any longer.

Turning around, Ghost spotted Katara and Aang further up the river, and oh. That’s a lot of geysers they have made. Maybe they should try and stop the two waterbenders before the river overflows its banks.

They dart over to the two humans just as they finish pulling another flow of water from the ground. Aang glances at them and grins. “Did you have fun playing in the river, Ghost?”

They nod their head quickly before pointing at the river and tilting their head at him, asking a silent question.

Aang surveyed the work he and Katara had been doing. “I think you’re right, Ghost. That’s probably more than enough water to refill the reservoir.”

“Great!” Katara said with a grin, reaching over to pat Ghost between the horns, which they leaned into. “Let’s go catch up with Jet at the reservoir!”

“I thought we were going to meet him back at the hideout?”

“We finished early. I’m sure he will be happy to see us, right Ghost?”

Ghost tilted their head at her in the other direction. Jet probably would be miffed that they ignored him and went to the reservoir instead of back to the hideout, but Ghost wanted to see if they could spot the potential nearby town. They nodded to her and grabbed a handful of her skirt and started tugging, trying to gently cajole her into moving.

Katara laughed, “Alright, I guess that’s a yes! C’mon, Aang,” she said as she relented and started moving downriver. Behind them, Ghost saw Aang shrug and start to follow.

The swollen river quickly turned into a gorge, and the group was forced to climb up and away from it into the forest proper. It wasn’t too long before it opened up into a clearing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the reservoir.

Ghost, ignoring Katara’s warning call darted right to the edge of the cliff and looked out. The reservoir was held back by a dam was standing firm against the influx of water, with only a trickle flowing out from it towards a small, walled town. But despite their excitement to see the town that wasn’t what drew the groups attention. They could feel their companions draw close to where they were standing, and their eyes tracked the motion of far-off figures moving around the base of the dam.

“What are they doing?” Katara asked after observing the movements for a moment.

Aang squinted, leaning forward next to Ghost. “Those look like the red barrels Jet took from those Fire Nation Soldiers we ran into.” Ghost could vaguely recall them. Weren’t they filled with jelly of some sort?

“Why would they need blasting jelly?” Ghost glanced at her. What was blasting jelly?

There was a sharp inhale from Aang. “Because Jet’s going to blow up the dam.”

The gently churning Void inside Ghost seized up, and they stiffened. Humans weren’t like most bugs. They didn’t seem to drown instantly when they fell into water like an infected husk, and some were more than capable of swimming that they had seen, but that much water, that fast? It would be like if the cavern over the City of Tears collapsed. A torrential flow of water that would bring death in its wake.

“He can’t do that; it would destroy the town. Jet wouldn’t do that!” Katara’s denials were ringing in their head as Ghost clenched their hands into tiny fists, the sharp points of their claws digging into the soft Void carapace of their palms.

Aang was shaking his head and flicked his glider into existence. “I’ve got to stop him,” he said.

Ghost numbly watched as Aang mounted his glider. They could barely hear Katara whisper, “Jet wouldn’t do that.”

Aang only managed to take a few steps before something collided with him, knocking his glider out of is hands and nearly sending him over the cliff if it weren’t for the hint of Soul and bended air bringing him back from the brink.

“Yes, I would.”

Jet was crouched, just a few steps away from where Ghost and Katara stood. Katara said something and Jet responded, but Ghost couldn’t hear them. Their Void was pounding out a heavy rhythm that threatened to overwhelm them.

“Where’s Sokka?” Katara’s words snapped Ghost out of their mind and lit something fiery and angry inside of them. Rage. They stared at Jet as he approached them. Jet didn’t look down at them, only focused on Katara and suddenly they found the Dream Nail in their hand.

It was the simplest thing in the world to let their Soul flow into the hilt, to swing the glowing blade and to peer into the human’s thoughts.

The village … the price to pay … freedom from the Fire Nation.

The price to pay.

The Price to Pay.

No cost to great, a traitorous, ethereal voice whispered in their memory, tainted by the sounds of shell cracking. A cavern filled with corpses of siblings, terrified and confused shades slashing at anything moving.

A flash of Soul, and Jet was launched away from them by a stream of water from Katara’s waterskin.

Ghost trembled. Something deep inside of them thrashed, Void ready to lash out.

There were always costs too great.

Ghost had no voice. It was stolen from them before they even hatched. But there was one thing they could do.

They darted forward to where Jet was struggling to his feet, and they met his eyes mere inches from their face.

Ghost let Void and Soul build up behind their mask before their head snap backwards and they shrieked.

It happened too fast. One moment Katara was feeling her heart shattering, her trust betrayed and her brother’s safety in question and the next she was reeling away from what felt like an explosion. The afterimages of screaming faces in made up of shadows and light burned at the back of her eyelids, but Katara forced herself to look when she heard a pained gasp.

Jet’s confident smirk was gone, and his eyes were narrowed in concentration as he stared at Ghost, his hook-swords in his hands, but one arm wrapped around his stomach like something had struck him there.

The spirit child was trembling, and as she watched they drew their weapon and swung at Jet with enough force to displace the air with a crack. Jet just barely brought his swords up in time to deflect the blow, but the force behind it bent the thin metal of his blades.

Jet’s handsome face twisted into an ugly snarl as he crossed the bent swords around the hilt of Ghost’s weapon and tugged it out of their grasp, sending it flying off into the underbrush.

“You should learn to be more careful with your weapons,” Jet taunted, and Katara couldn’t believe she didn’t see through the twisted person in front of her before.

Katara could see the way Ghost’s tiny hands clenched before a familiar inky darkness swept out from under their cloak and covering their entire form, twisting into individual tendrils and whipping around in an invisible wind. Katara blinked tears out of her eyes, switching focus to the older teen. Jet also had tears running down his face but he was staring at Ghost’s thrashing form with a look of horror.

“What are you?” Jet shouted before Ghost charged at him, meeting their tendril with his bent blade.

Objectively, Katara knew that Jet was a good fighter. She had seen him take out the greater portion of a Fire Nation troupe without any issues. But right now? He was completely on the defensive, dodging blows from an opponent who was a quarter of his size and was bearing down on him mercilessly.

It hurt to look at Ghost, Katara noted through her daze. Like she was catching a glimpse of something other, something so thoroughly removed from her world that they weren’t registering properly to her eyes. She felt helpless, unsure if she could do anything against the tangible rage rolling off their otherworldly body.

“Ghost! Stop!” Aang shouted, waving his hands to try and get the spirit’s attention. He shared a look with her, a momentary meeting of eyes sharing a similar sheen of tears. “They’re not gonna stop,” he whispered.

A yelp of pain wrenched their attention back to the fight. Ghost had landed a blow, the edge of their shadows sharp enough to leave a clean slice vertically across Jet’s cheek as he wiped at the welling blood. There was genuine fear brimming behind his eyes now.

“They’re going to kill him,” Katara whispered, a numb sort of shock filling her. She had never seen Ghost genuinely angry, and due to the generally placidness of the spirit she forgot that they were ever anything other than an eerie child.

“I can’t let that happen, Aang said, sparing her a quick glance before darting forward. Katara watched as he brought his staff down with a blast of air that pushed the two combatants away from each other. Ghost immediately got back up and started tearing towards the downed teen, a dark blur with glowing white eyes.

“Get out of my way!” Jet snarled, aiming his bent blades at Aang’s back.

Katara unfroze and pulled at the contents of her waterskin, bending it into a whip that smacked Jet backwards into a tree. Taking a deep breath, she bent the water covering the older teen into ice, freezing him in place. With that threat taken care of, she turned back just in time to see Aang stepping between Jet and a lunging Ghost, arms stretched out.

Ghost halted in their motion barely a hair’s breadth away from touching Aang, their tendrils flailing around but never contacting the airbender. Katara gulped as Aang reached down carefully to cup the edge of Ghost’s shadowed face. “It’s okay,” Katara could hear him whispering, “It’s okay Ghost. We took care of him. You don’t have to hurt him. We’ve stopped him. It’s okay.”

As quickly as Ghost had turned to shadow the darkness disappeared, retreating back into their being as their white mask reappeared and they fell forward into Aang’s waiting arms. Katara immediately ran up to them and helped Aang shift their body so that he could cradle the spirit child.

“We’ve got you Ghost,” Katara said, tamping down her own fear. Jet had hurt her, but something he said had triggered Ghost, and she wouldn’t forgive herself if she abandoned them when they were so clearly in mental anguish. She brushed her hand gently across one of their horns. Their entire body was shaking, and as she watched something dark and viscous started welling from their mask’s eyeholes. A dark fluid was building up and pouring out like tears only to evaporate into dark mist a moment later.

Tentatively, a tiny hand reached up and touched the dark tears falling from their face before jerking back to stare at the evaporating fluid on their fingers. Ghost’s body went limp, slumping in Aang’s lap. It looked like they had fallen unconscious. Somewhere in the distance a bird call rang out.

“The village!” Aang said suddenly, shifting Ghost’s body into her lap as he stood up.

“Go! I’ll watch them,” Katara said clutching tightly to Ghost’s limp form and trying to ignore how cold they were in her grip.

Another bird call rang out, much closer this time, and both Katara and Aang’s attention was brought back to the almost forgotten teen frozen to the tree.

“You’re too late,” Jet grit out, pulling at the ice.

Wordlessly, Aang flipped open his glider and took off running, but before he could even get off the ground Katara could see that it was too late. A bright, burning motion flew out of the trees on the other side of the dam before disappearing at its base.

The dam blew up, a cloud of smoke and debris expanding into the air, followed moments later by the thunderous sound and a shockwave that shook the ground.

The flood of water released, flowing down the valley and hitting the town directly and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Aang stumbled to a stop at the edge of the cliff before falling to his knees. “All those people,” he whispered.

Katara tucked Ghost’s head into her chest, hoping that they were still unconscious. No child deserved to see such destruction, but her anger was building up as well, and the person to aim it at was right there.

She stood up and whirled to face him where he was tied up.

“Jet you monster!”

His face was still twisted into a snarl. “I’m the monster? Have you seen what that thing you’re holding is?”

“Ghost is a spirit,” Katara spat out but Jet spoke over her.

“Have you forgotten what the Fire Nation did to your mother? This was a victory Katara. The Fire Nation are gone and this valley will be safe.”

Katara can feel her anger building. There was nothing left to protect. Innocent lives should never have been sacrificed and she wanted to scream and hit Jet until he could understand that simple concept, but she can’t because she’s holding Ghost. And when she hears Sokka’s voice, the relief she feels is immeasurable, his calm reassurances of the villager’s safety is a balm preventing her from lashing out as she climbed onto Appa’s back, throwing one last dirty look over her shoulder at Jet’s marred face.

Ghost hadn’t moved in three days. Well, that wasn’t quite right, since Aang, Sokka, and Katara had all taken turns carrying their limp body around, and occasionally they would feel the spirit child shudder, or turn to press their head closer to whoever was holding them at the moment.

Aang wasn’t sure if they were sick or exhausted, the display of terrifying spirit powers that they had unleashed on Jet having drained them. And it was terrifying, the otherworldliness that they only occasionally let slip out from under their mask and cloak being blatantly revealed, accompanied with an anger that the gang had never seen them display before.

But now the fire that had fueled them for fleeting moments was gone, and Ghost was left as a chilly deadweight.

Katara would spend her time watching over them gently running her hands over their forehead and horns, tracing over a nearly invisible crack in their mask and offering them comfort.

Sokka would quietly tell them about everything that was going on, even going as far as to lift them up high enough to see over Appa’s saddle when they flew over the great divide, trying to get some reaction out of them at the novel sight.

And Aang, well he kept trying to reach out to them. He had been thinking about Roku’s warnings about Ghost. The spirit was dangerous, but they were also his friend, and Aang was unwilling to let them suffer if he could prevent it. He was the Avatar, the great Bridge between humans and spirits, if anyone on this plane of existence could reach them it would be him.

But no matter how hard he tried to reach out, how he struggled to connect with the spirit while meditating or reaching deep inside to find his great bridge powers it just wasn’t there. Ghost was physically present, but their mind was beyond reach.

It also didn’t help that for the past three nights Aang kept having the same nightmare. Storm clouds. Rain. Freezing waters swallowing him and Appa whole. Voices whispering and sobbing and screaming we need you, Aang! And behind all of it the thunderous pounding of his anxious heart, threatening to explode inside of his chest.

Aang bolted up from his sleep with a gasp, his hands gripping at invisible reigns as the pounding in his chest started to settle down. He let out a groan, before curling around the chilly weight resting on his lap.

“Aang? Are you alright?” Katara asked sleepily followed by Sokka Groggily asking, “Did we get captured again?”

“It’s nothing,” Aang said, running a knuckle over the curve of Ghost’s mask, “I just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep.”

Sokka let out a grunt before turning over in his bedroll, but Katara sat up straighter and looked at Aang. “You seem to be having a lot of nightmares recently. Wanna tell me about it?” Aang avoided looking at her while he shook his head.

“You guy’s want to hear about my dream?” Sokka said, springing up, “It was actually more of a nightmare. Real spooky stuff. You know, now that I think about it, I haven’t had a good dream in a while. It’s either nothing or nightmares.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Aang could see Katara shooting her brother a look before he slumped back into his bedroll. “Never mind, I didn’t want to talk about it anyways.” The older teen grumbled into the ground.

Aang curled himself up on his side, turning away from the others but still cradling Ghost’s body. A warm hand landed on his shoulder in stark contrast with the chilly spirit.

“If you ever want to talk, I’m willing to listen,” Katara said softly.

Aang rolled her hand off his shoulder. “I think I just need some rest,” he said, trying to not let the guilt strangle his words. He shouldn’t be the one needing comfort, he should be the one giving it, helping people.

We need you, Aang. The words rattled around his head along with the phantom feeling of freezing rain on his skin.

He couldn’t even help the tiny spirit that they had taken on as a companion. How was he supposed to help anyone if he couldn’t help one spirit?

It was a long while before Aang was able to fall back into uneasy sleep.

The next morning Aang woke up to something chilly brushing up against his cheek. Wrinkling his nose, he forced his eyes open to the early morning light only to yelp and scoot back when he saw a pair of dark abysses inches away from his face.

The sudden movement startled the pale figure into falling over into the sand, and it was only after a few seconds that his sleep muddled brain was able to process what was going on, and at that point his other companions were awake as well.

“Ghost!” Sokka shouted, tripping over the edge of his own bedroll in his haste to reach the spirit child and getting a face full of sand for his effort.

“You’re alright!” Katara said, sidestepping her brother and kneeling down to pull them into a hug. They wriggled in her grip, their arms reaching out and making grabbing motions at him and Sokka and without hesitation Aang joined them in a group hug, mindful to avoid Ghost’s horns. From where he was resting nearby, Appa let out a grumble, clearly upset that he hadn’t been included in the hug.

“Are you feeling better, little buddy?” Aang asked after they finally separated and the spirit gave a simple nod before tilting their head at him. “Us? We’re doing just fine,” he said grinning widely and falsely. Hopefully no one could tell.

“You honestly didn’t miss much,” Sokka said, patting Ghost between the horns as they turned to look at him. “That is, if you don’t remember the past few days.”

Ghost wavered back and forward, and Aang took it to mean that they didn’t really remember everything that happened.

“It’s alright if you don’t,” he said, “You picked a good day to come back to us.” Aang jumped up and ran over to Appa, giving his oldest friend some love and attention. “I mean, just look at those clear skies. It should be some smooth sailing today!”

“Well, we better smoothly fly ourselves to a market, because we’re out of food.” Katara was already starting to breakdown camp and was waving an empty bag at them as she spoke.

“Guys wait!” Sokka said, hands flying up to his hair. “This was in my dream that was more of a nightmare last night! We shouldn’t go to the market.”

Aang, Katara, and Ghost all stared at the older teen for a moment, with Ghost almost comically tilting their head back to stare up at him raptly.

“What happened in your dream that was more of a nightmare?” Katara asked with a hand on her hip.

“Food eats people!”

Katara shot Aang a look before continuing to break down camp. Out of the corner of his eye Aang saw Ghost shake their head before hopping over to help Katara.

Aang hid a grin to himself. It was a beautiful day today, and no matter how largely his destiny seemed to be looming in front of him it wasn’t here yet. He could just enjoy today. He still has time to figure out this whole Avatar thing.

Chapter Text

Waking up face first on the ground was never a pleasant experience. Hornet let out a little huff, wiggling her arms out of her cloak enough to push herself into a sitting position. Her head ached, and she kept her eyes closed, trying to deal with the pounding sensation behind her shell.

She had been doing something. Something important. Something to do with the Seals surrounding the kingdom. And then Ghost had done something to the Seals and –

“GHOST!” she called out, wrenching her eyes open and immediately slamming them back shut. It was too bright to see. “HOLLOW!” she shifted on the ground, straining her other senses to find either of her siblings. There was nothing, no shuffling, no nails hitting the ground, not even the faint empty scent that vessels gave off.

Hornet tilted her head upwards, towards the source of the blinding light and carefully opened one eye before being forced to shut it again, panic building up in her thorax.

That light. That burning light, too warm to be His, which means it must be Hers.

But She was dead. She was dead.

Her siblings would not be here if She still existed; the infection would still be here and Hornet had seen it fade with her own two eyes.

Cautiously, brining her hand up to block as much of the hated Light as she could, Hornet cracked her eyes open.

It was warm, but not burning. And most importantly it not orange and thrumming; simply a steady source of light. Hornet blinked at the way the light reflected of the tiny hairs that covered her hand, the way they glinted dark in contrast before taking in more of her surroundings.

It was … illuminated. But not like Her and not like Him.

Tales from her childhood rang through her head, stories the weavers used to speak of while working in their den, about their pilgrimage to Deepnest.

Was this the sun?

With a healthy amount of trepidation, Hornet lowered her hand and looked around. Her siblings were not in sight, but her needle was next to her, planted firmly in the ground with an inactive string of silk connecting its loop to her wrist.

She wrenched it free from the ground, its weight a comfort in this strange environment.

Hornet was in a clearing, surrounded by great trees of some sort, but ones that were unlike any she had ever seen before, scents unfamiliar. Instead of the green that dominated Unn’s lands or the pale white foliage that grew under her stepmother’s control, the leaves were bright, fiery colors, as if this was the lands of some other god.

“HOLLOW! GHOST!” she called out again, but still there was no response. There was a movement out of the corner of her eye and she wheeled around, needle at the ready.

A tiny butterfly fluttered past, flitting around her head as she watched. It was bright golden, and it reminded her vaguely of lifeblood butterflies, having the same shape of the flowers that sprouted around lifeblood cocoons.

But this butterfly was a simple creature, no enlightened mind like the majority of the inhabitants of Hallownest, and Hornet felt a stab of fear. She was clearly above ground, far beyond the constraints of Hallownest’s Seals. How long before her mind faded too?

Her spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a stabbing chill piercing her left shoulder. Hornet let out gasp, her hand moving to grip it when she realized it wasn’t being stabbed; it was the King’s Brand.

“Ghost?” She whispered, and a moment later the chill of the brand was accompanied by the tingling of Soul. “Hollow,” she breathed, “Where are you?”

Her siblings did not do anything to reply, not that Hornet thought that they would. But it was a comfort nonetheless to know that wherever they had gone they were still well enough to reach out through their shared brand.

She tightened her grip on her shoulder, hoping the sensation would carry through to her siblings. Whatever Ghost had done to the Hallownest Seals had backfired and scattered them beyond the kingdom’s bounds.

Hornet looked around again at the unfamiliar surroundings, at the simple butterfly drifting in the wind, at the strange trees, at the terrifying light bathing everything in its warm glow. Everything smelled... off. Her hands tightened even further on her needle and her shoulder.

Wherever ‘here’ was, it was not where she should be. She had kingdoms to lead, her duties as both Queen and Lord, but more importantly her siblings were out here too. Hollow still needed time to heal, their body ravaged by the countless years spent fighting Her, and while Ghost was more than capable of taking care of themself, they always found trouble.

Hornet worked her chelicerae under her mask. She could not stay here, in this clearing in this strange place. She needed to find her siblings, and she needed to find the way back to Hallownest. Not necessarily in that order, but she would not return to the fallen kingdom without knowing the fate of her siblings.

She tapped the brand again, feeling the delayed responses from her siblings. They were out there. Somewhere, in the wide world beyond the boundaries of Hallownest. Were they scared? Ghost wouldn’t be. They were too adaptable. Perhaps they knew where they were, had been here before after their initial escape from the fallen kingdom. They might even be able to lead the way back before all of their minds were lost.

What about Hollow? Her larger sibling was not as outgoing as their smaller one, and they were still recovering, both from their physical injuries and their mental damage She did while they fought to contain Her light. They might be in trouble, or even shut down entirely while she wasted her time here.

With a huff Hornet slung her needle over her shoulder. She could not afford to linger.

With one last glare towards the hated but not as hateful light, she called out one last time, not that she had any real hope of getting a response. “Hollow? Ghost?”

Nothing. Just the rustling of wind in the leaves and the distant sound of chittering creatures.

The trees all looked the same. There was no indication of a path nearby, no way to go that wouldn’t be forging her own trail.

She needed a plan, a way to move forward. Hornet took a moment to take inventory of her current situations and possessions. She had herself, uninjured as far as she could tell running a hand briefly over her mask and carapace. Her needle was a comforting weight on her back, hanging by a thread of Soul-silk and ready to be drawn. Her cloak was undamaged and rummaging through its many pockets revealed she still had all her equipment, shards of shell ready to be turned into tools or traps, some geo, her aspid-bladder canteen, mostly full of water, some Tiktik jerky, and some other odds and ends including her Tram Pass. She brushed briefly against something that tickled with Soul and her hand closed around two distinctive shapes that could only be charms.

Hornet pulled them from her pocket and stared. The golden-honey Hiveblood glittered in the light whereas the pale Weaversong whispered of home.

Little Ghost had given them to her, not long ago. They had wanted her to have them after she had told her siblings stories of her childhood before the stasis, whispered in the dark of their home in Dirtmouth, curled up together in their nest.

As much as she would like the comfort of Weaverlings, she did not want to bring them into a strange place, should the Soul constructs decide to attack anything that moved. Instead, she slipped the Hiveblood charm on, tasting sweet honey in the back of her mouth as the vitality of the Hive flowed through her.

Hornet closed her eyes, trying to sense anything, any indication of a way to move forward, to find her siblings.

Her head swept around for a moment, searching out the for the distinct tingling of Void her siblings gave off before she felt a tremor run through her mask. This way, something seemed to whisper in her mind.

Hornet let her instincts guide her and walked into the orange-leaf forest.

Hornet’s first major shock came later that cycle. As she walked through the trees, she could see the persistent sun peaking though the leaves. At first she thought that she had somehow started wandering off her chosen path, the sun having moved around. But all her senses told her that she was still moving in a straight line, still following the invisible instinct that whispered this way into her mind.

It was only when the sun dipped low that she felt alarm. The sun was moving, and as the shadows elongated Hornet realized that it seemed like it was going to downright disappear.

Uncertainty followed her as she continued forward in her chosen direction, and it was only when the sky started changing colors from light blue to orange to purple to black did she stop.

Hornet found a suitable tree, one that had a study trunk and plenty of thick branches before she climbed it, her claws sinking slightly into its rough bark. Normally the darkness would not hamper her. She was of Deepnest, and hunting through pitch black tunnels was second nature.

But here, she wasn’t so sure. Hornet had seen and heard plenty of evidence of other beasts in the woods; footprints in the mud, claw marks on the trees, faint foreign scents, skittering sounds coming from creatures that chose to run from her rather than risk confrontation.

But with darkness came predators, and while Hornet felt that she was one of the most dangerous beings in these woods, it would not do to be caught unprepared.

So she would camp here.

A flash of Soul was all it took to form a quick and easy hammock that she hung from a high branch in the fading light, prepared to keep watch, to learn what beasts roamed these woods. But as she watched, the world started to grow brighter again, but not with the light of the sun.

Pale Light glimmered, illuminating the edges of trees and leaves in silvers, and Hornet once more tilted her head upwards, her breath catching in her throat.

It was as if someone had released a swarm of lumaflies into the sky, their twinkling forms far beyond her reach but what caught her attention was the crescent-shaped Pale Being slicing its way into the sky.

And it was a Pale Being, distant and glowing with the same light as her sire and stepmother, slowly drifting across the sky. Hornet stared at it, far away and indifferent, it’s Pale Light reflecting off her own pale mask and very distantly a name for them popped into her head.

Moon, she thought distantly, and stars.

Hornet watched the distant god as it traveled across the sky, a hand pressed against her brand while she could feel her siblings doing the same. Her joints were stiff by the time the traveling god finally disappeared across the horizon as color seeped back into the sky.

It was only once the sun had fully emerged that she moved again

The next two days passed almost the same. Hornet kept walking in as straight of a path as she could, stopping only to refill her aspid-bladder canteen at the stream she passed and again when the sun disappeared. She snacked on jerky as she walked, the forest stretching out endlessly before her.

There was life here. Skittering creatures, furry beasts she caught glimpses of as they ran from her, watching from the trees and the undergrowth, flapping around on feathered wings, as well as tiny bugs, no more sentient than lumaflies.

There were larger beasts too, fellow hunters who prowled about in the dark. Hornet kept her eyes on them, but so far none of them had approached. It was only a matter of time before her food supplies would run out and she would join them on a hunt.

When the sun disappeared, she would trace the movements of the moon and the stars, the former growing in size every night. Hornet wondered if the other Pale Light was growing in power too, if it would soon be able to sense her own Light, demigod that she was. She kept a wary eye on it, but by the third night she passed out from exhaustion only to wake to the rising sun.

The King’s Brand tingled often, a chill of a Void-tainted touch from her siblings and every time it went off she would reach back to them as well, hoping they could feel her living warmth as she felt their unliving chill.

All she could do was follow the invisible instinct in her mind, still whispering this way, and hope that it was leading her in the right direction.

For maybe the first time ever Hornet wished that she had a map. She had never needed one to find her way around her kingdoms, but the surface world was not her territory. Ghost had a Wayward Compass charm, as well as a map. Perhaps they would be able to get a better read of the land then she could. If she could find them and reunite with them.

Hornet worried about her kingdoms. Hallownest did not need a ruler per se, but it needed guidance and protection. The different factions spread throughout the kingdom had their own leaders, and she and her siblings were not the only bugs who had taken to mediating between them, but there were other dangers that they were poorly equipped to handle. Like the failing Seals. The Seals needed to be fixed or her people would lose their minds, and after the stunt Ghost pulled there was no guarantee that they would be able to last much longer.

But out here, in these damned woods there was nothing she could do, only hope that the Seals would last until she could return.

It was early in the morning on her third day of walking that something changed. The trees thinned and stretching out on either side in front of her was an open path, a dirt road with wheel ruts ground into it.

Hornet slowed down as she reached the tree line and carefully peered in both directions. There was no one visible on the road, but the road itself implied many things about the surface land she was in.

Something sapient had built it, had used it recently. Hornet crouched in at the edge of the road, looking at the tracks left in the dusty road. There were at least two different types of bipedal creatures, and a larger quadrupedal one with a tail that dragged behind it; all of them had large sprawling feet with articulated joints.

She did not recognize the creatures that made them, the scents from the most recent footprints were faint.

Hornet felt a chill run through her shell. There were sapient creatures out here, beyond the bounds of Hallownest.

There were sapient beings who existed outside of Hallownest.

Last and only civilization indeed.

Hornet felt a cold fury overcome her as her hands clenched into fists, the sharp claws digging into her chitin. Had He known? He had to; He was a higher being. So why did He lie?

Her fury seeped into disgust. As always, she had no way of knowing why her sire made the choices that He did, only that she was left to clean up His messes.

But Hornet did not have time to contemplate that she had been lied to her entire life. She had siblings to find, and a kingdom to return to. Which left her with a question. Which way to go to find them?

Hornet looked both ways down the road but nothing stood out to her as exceptional beyond the fact that everything was new up here. Slowly glancing left and right, Hornet felt a gentle nudge in her mind when she was facing left.

With no better lead to follow, she let herself follow the tiny instinct in her mind whispering this way and turned to the left, following the road close enough to the tree line she felt she could duck back into cover should something unpleasant come her way.

The road winded and twisted, leading gently uphill until Hornet realized the forest she had been wandering in was in a low spot of the land. It wasn’t until late in the afternoon when she turned around to look back that she saw the valley she had awaken in fully spread out behind her, a sea of fiery leaves falling from spindly trees.

She spent the night in a tree some distance from the road staring up at the Pale Being and the multitude of shifting stars that filled the sky.

The first glimpse she got of the road-building sapient creatures was a preluded by noise. It gave her plenty of time to throw her needle and pull herself up into the surrounding canopy before the noisy party ever got close.

The creatures were beasts of some type, the majority with tanned carapace and dark fuzzy hair falling from their heads. One sat in a cart pulled by a giraffe weevil-like creature with only two legs, its clawed feet matching the prints that she had seen on the road. The remaining beasts walked alongside the cart, which appeared to be laden down with goods. If Hornet had to guess, she would say that they were traveling merchants. Not that she had met any traveling merchants recently, but she understood the importance of trading between communities even if she had never ruled in a kingdom that had the capacity to maintain regular commerce with said other communities. Such things only existed in her hazy memory of before the stasis.

The tanned creatures wore rough spun clothes in shades of green and beige and Hornet observed the way they chatted, faces free of masks and highly expressive. One threw their head back with their mouth open wide, letting out a laugh. Hornet tried to taste the air coming off of them, but whatever pheromones the creatures emitted failed to register as something she could recognize. It was more than slightly concerning. Were they of Void too? Her siblings gave off unique pheromones, just enough to register as bugs in the loosest definitions, but these creatures pheromones weren't like those. She could scent them, but not comprehend them. 

At least one of them was visibly armed, with the curved cleaving weapons that Fools favored, the type that could take off a limb at the joint, made for spectacle rather than efficient hunting.

Hornet watched as the group moved away and it wasn’t until long after they had disappeared that she felt comfortable enough to drop out of the trees.

The group had to have been traveling from somewhere, which meant that this road likely led to a town sooner or later, or some other settlement where civilized individuals lived. Perhaps she could inquire about her siblings there, Ghost was always making new friends and leaving lasting impressions on all the other bugs they met. And while Hollow was more reserved, their presence was hard to miss. Either way, she might be able to purchase a map and a Wayward Compass charm and find out exactly where she was.

Hornet stilled. Maybe she would not be able to purchase anything. These creatures were foreign; perhaps they used a currency other than Geo. If there were other civilizations out there, ones outside of the Pale King’s influence there was no telling how different they could be.

She shook her head, letting out a huff. There was no point in staying here, she needed to move on. Even if the surface beasts did not use Geo there were other ways to trade; she had her needle, she could barter with fresh meat, or other services a capable knight and leader could provide.

Urged on by an invisible instinct, Hornet started walking again.

The next sign of civilization Hornet came across was a sign. Unfortunately, the sign was written in a godless language. Hornet spent a moment frowning at the unfamiliar symbols before taking in the fork in the road that the sign stood at. The painted words meant nothing to her, but the sign itself was shaped as an arrow.

It was not long after that her journey took her within view of a village. the road approaching it was on an decline, which gave her the perfect view into the walled community. The buildings inside looked nothing like Hallownest construction, no bulky hollowed out shells like Dirtmouth or smooth glass and delicate metalwork like in the City of Tears. It looked like the buildings had been hewed from the same tan stones with wooden roofs painted green and red. They all had the same general plan and it even looked as though they were laid out with a planned purpose that settlements of Hallownest often lacked.

There were fields of some sort surrounding the town, mostly brown and empty but a few containing what could only be considered livestock beasts as strange as they looked. Inside the walls the same non-bug creatures that she had seen on the road went about their activities in a surprisingly bug-like fashion. Her eyes zeroed in on individuals talking with each other, trading at what could only be a vender stall, repairing a cart, and otherwise going about daily tasks.

They were … beings … just strange ones. Hornet rested her hand on her needle, its weight a comfort, before letting it go to hang back at her side. She would only draw her needle if they chose to attack her first.

There were a pair of beings standing on either side of the gate, their armor a richer red than Ogrim’s rusted plates and wielding odd nail-lances made mostly from wood. They hadn’t spotted her yet, and Hornet made a split-second decision before darting off the road to loop around. No need to go through a guarded entrance when it wasn’t necessary.

She moved in a low crouch towards the village, keeping a wary eye on the guards and anyone else who might be looking her way. For once in her life, Hornet found herself wishing that her hunting cloak was a different, less visible color. In the dark tunnels of Deepnest and Hallownest the red faded quickly in low light, making it easier to sneak around unseen, but here on the surface the bright light made her stand out vibrantly, both by the red of her cloak and the white of her mask.

Despite her disadvantages, she made it to the base of the village wall undetected and with a throw of her needle she was zipping up and over the wall within seconds. Hornet took a moment to get a good look at the alleyway beneath her before dropping into the empty space, returning her needle to the hanging thread over her shoulder.

She took a deep breath before striding out between the building she had landed behind, channeling as much confidence as a leader of her station should have. Most of the villagers went about their lives without looking up from their tasks but she watched warily as at least two of them followed her movements, eyes narrowing and mouths downturned.

Hornet held her head high, noting that most of these beasts were taller than her, especially if she measured from her eyes instead of the peaks of her horns. There were a handful of smaller ones running around that she assumed were the species’ grubs. They weren’t much different from the adults, only smaller in stature. She ached to see little Ghost again.

 Ignoring the increased prickling of beings starting to stare at her she moved towards a vendor stall that appeared to be selling fruit. She took a deep breath and tried to bury her frustration. She couldn't scent the vendor's gender. 

“Pardon me,” Hornet said, waiting for the vendor to look at her. They did, blinking rapidly before squinting at her, dark hair pulled back and up from their bronzed face, their eyes a complex but foreign structure. “Do you have a cartographer here in this village?”

“What?” the vendor said, rubbing at their eyes before staring at her blankly, mouth gaping open.

Hornet tried to not let her frustration reach her voice “A cartographer? A map maker?”

“There’s a general store over there,” the creature said gesturing at a nearby building, “they might have a map for sale.”

“Thank you,” Hornet said with a slight bob of her head before turning away. No reason to forget her own manners, even if the other being was being rude by starting.

“What in the spirit’s name was that?” she heard the vendor say from behind her and Hornet prickled as more focus was drawn to her. It seemed as though none of the surface dwellers had ever seen a spider before, or perhaps never had a positive experience with one. Her mother had earned the epithet Beast for good reason.

She ignored the stares following her as she moved towards the building the fruit vendor had pointed out. Pushing through the door revealed a cluttered space that reminded her of Sly’s shop with its mismatch of items and the short being staring at her from behind the counter, with similar dark hair pulled away from their face.

“Are you the owner of this shop?” Hornet asked.

“I am,” said the creature, its eyes narrowing at her in what Hornet could only define as suspicion. “I already paid my taxes, what do you need now?”

Hornet stared at the creature. “I’m not here for taxes. I’m here to purchase a map and a Wayward Compass if you have one.”

The Shopkeeper’s expression changed dramatically, opening up and baring their teeth in a way that had her on edge. It wasn't until she heard the gleeful tone of their voice that she realized the creature wasn't trying to threaten her. These creatures seemed to rely more on body language than proper pheromone use, which would make every future encounter more stressful than necessary.

“Oooh, a customer!" The Shopkeeper said, "Why didn’t you say so? I thought you were one of those firebenders coming back for the rest of my coppers.”

“Firebenders?” Hornet asked as the short vendor vaulted the counter and started digging in a nearby chest.

“Your mask. It looks an awful lot like one of those firebender mask plates.” The vendor shot back up, tapping a finger to the side of their head with one hand and clutching a somewhat grungy looking piece of parchment in the other. “And you’re wearing red.”

Hornet felt very wrongfooted. Her mask was rather unique, a natural hybrid between her mother’s horns and her sire’s own pale form. Deepnest’s strange Gendered Child, who vaguely resembled the Pale King’s prized Pure Vessel. “I am not a firebender,” was all she managed to say.

“A Fire Nation soldier then?”

She faintly shook her head.

“Ha! Just running around in Fire Nation colors then so the patrols around here don’t harass you? That’s not a bad idea. Our village only has a small garrison from the Fire Nation here, I bet you saw them coming in. But we’re only a farming community. The roads around here are swarming with them since this is a major trade route. You might want to avoid red if you’re planning on going further east. The closer you get to the capital the more likely you are to run into Earth Kingdom troops since most of them are situated closer to the major Earth Kingdom strongholds.”

“Ah-” was all Hornet managed to get out before the shopkeeper hopped back over the counter to face her from the other side again.

“Here’s the map. I’m ‘fraid I don’t have any compasses,” the shopkeeper said, spreading the map out on the counter and placing their hand protectively over the parchment as if they were afraid she would snatch it and run. “It’s an old one, not fully accurate, so I’ll only charge you twenty coppers.”

Hornet approached slowly, keeping her eyes on the shopkeeper even as she tilted her head to see the map. She tried to keep the shock out of her demeanor when she saw it, a stiffness overcoming her as she felt the world she knew slip further out of reach.

Instead of the geometric shapes that formed most of the maps of Hallownest there were outlines of organic, flowing shapes surrounded by drawn waves.

Landmasses. And rivers. Long forgotten words that were springing to her memory after ages of laying dormant in the dust corners of her mind, from a childhood out of reach.

The Weavers had often sung and told stories of their long travels before settling in Deepnest. Seeing the vastness of the surface world mapped out in faded ink, labeled frustratingly in a language she could not read was only serving to point out how far out of her depth she really was.

“Where exactly are we on this map?” Hornet asked, noticing faintly that her voice was higher than usual.

The shopkeeper did not seem to notice, leaning forward before tapping a thick finger to a section of the largest landmass. “Our town is too small to be labeled on a map like this, but we are around here. Further north and you’ll hit the major northern mountains and east of here is the capital City of Ba Sing Se.” Hornet watched his finger dance around the map, trying to figure out where exactly she had emerged from. Perhaps it was somewhere in the foothills of those mountains?

Wrapping her arms around herself under her cloak she finally looked back up at the shopkeeper, who had started to look at her oddly. Bracing herself for the worst, Hornet hesitantly asked, “Have you ever heard of the kingdom of Hallownest?”

The shopkeeper’s brows grew even closer as he stared at her. “Can’t say that I have.”

Hornet let out a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding, bowing her head for a moment, reeling at a loss that should not have hurt this much, considering she already knew she was far from home.

“You alright miss?”

“I’m fine,” Hornet said, shaking herself. She could not afford to lose her composer here, “you said twenty – coppers, was it? For the map?” Hornet reached for her geo pouch.

“Ye-es.” The shopkeeper said hesitantly, giving her another odd look. Hornet shook out twenty one-piece geos into her hand before placing it onto the counter next to the map. The shopkeeper picked one up and looked at it with the same scrutinizing look he had been using on her before, tilting it from side to side. “These aren’t Earth Kingdom coppers. Nor are they Fire Nation ban.”

“Will you accept them?” She’s perhaps a little harsher than necessary in saying that, but the shopkeeper looks her over once more, eyes drifting to her needle before meeting her gaze head on, something steely in their demeanor.

“No.”

Hornet glared at the shopkeeper before scooping the pile of geo back up, pocketing it in an instant. “Then we have nothing more to discuss,” she said, backing out of the shop in a huff.

Outside again, Hornet found herself blinking once more at the bright sunlight before being able to see again, and it just adds to her frustration before she closed her eyes to help center herself. In her mind the image of the map swam, landmasses and rivers, a fleshy finger pointing out where she was, and she let a small amount of satisfaction wind through her.

She may not have a physical map, but she at least had a vague mental one, an idea of what the surface world looked like. Now the only question left was where to go from here.

She could head to the major city that was somewhat nearby, this Ba Sing Se. That didn’t quite feel right. Neither Ghost nor Hollow would likely choose to head to a major city. Ghost would probably prefer to thoroughly explore whatever place they had ended up in first before moving on, leaving a noticeable trail of destruction in their wake. Hollow would be more likely to stay put, being the only one of the three siblings with any sense of making a searcher’s life easy when they were lost.

She could keep traveling in the directions she had been heading, along a road that seemed like it would take her towards the coast. This seemed to be a better option, something in her mind whispering this way, urging her to keep moving forward.

Mind made up, Hornet made her way back towards where she had entered the village, ignoring the growing whispers and stares that were following her from the locals. She left the village as she came, a quiet and unnoticeable shape that stealthily retreated back to the road and left, chasing after the slowly descending sun.

Hornet finally ran out of food two days after leaving the village, following the road towards the setting sun.

It was time to go on a hunt.  She let herself stalk away from the road into the long shadows of sunset tracking a creature that walked on four, oddly shaped feet. Not that any creature she has run into on the surface walked with normal shaped feet, or at least with familiar shaped feet. She has still yet to come across another sentient species beyond the ones of the village, let alone another bug, and the absence of known entities and constant barrage of strange scents was starting to run her nerves thin.

It didn’t take too long to track down her prey, a fuzzy, horned creature no taller than her knee. Hornet threw her needle, only to be disturbed by the ease at which it pierced the creature’s carapace, killing it instantly.

Upon closer inspection, the creature had no carapace, its fuzzy coat covering soft skin while the structure is held up by an internal framework. It bled a disturbingly red substance, that Hornet took a moment to smell carefully to ensure it wasn't infection before discounting it as another oddity of surface creatures.

Fresh meat was still fresh meat, but this was more than enough for one meal.

For the first time in as long as she could remember Hornet was able to start a fire without worry. Large flames and small tunnels did not make for safe burning locations, at least not without prior Seals put into place to prevent suffocation.

Pulling her flintstone out from one of her pockets, Hornet struck it with her needle, sparking the kindling she had gathered. It took a while for the fire to grow large enough to start cooking the meat, and Hornet took her time eating her fill of the fresh food and butchering the creature to make preserving the rest of it more convenient, spending the rest of her time extra paranoid of everything going on around her.

Despite being stuck on the ground for the majority of the night, nothing ended up happening, and Hornet was free to continue on her way the next morning, following the silent urge in the back of her head.

As the days went on her routine was fairly simple. Hornet traveled by daylight and spent the nights getting fitful sleep. Periodically she would send and receive comfort through the King’s Brand, running a claw over the mark as if running a soothing claw along her siblings’ carapaces.

Hornet tried to avoid the other travelers who she would occasionally come across, but sometimes it wasn’t possible. The creatures wearing red clothes always seemed friendly, calling out to her, asking her about her travels.

The ones in greens and tans ranged from suspicious to fearful to openly hostile.

It all came to a head when she reached the river.

It was a monstrous thing, unlike anything she had ever seen in Hallownest before, too wide to zip across on a thread of Soul-silk.

Fortunately, the road funneled straight to an earthen bridge. Unfortunately, the bridge was manned by green-clad spellcasters who controlled the very earth itself, forming the bridge to let some creatures cross and reforming and sometimes destroying the bridge to allow ships to sail through. Each side of the bridge was defended by an earthen fort consisting of two towers and a sealed stone entrance, with more guards surveilling the distance from above.

The moment she caught sight of the operation she veered off the road and into the trees. Hornet spent half a day just observing the process, fascinated by the strange magic wielded by the surface dwellers. They would throw their arms up and stomp their feet in unison and pull the ground into the shape they wanted, so very different from the type of magic she had seen performed in Hallownest, from woven Seals to snail shaman’s spells to blasts of unrefined soul.

She needed to cross that bridge.

The creatures were only letting their own kind to pass, which was problematic. She might be able to sneak across, hitching a ride over in one of the carts that would rumble by occasionally.

Or perhaps she could slip across in the dark of night. Even when the guards destroyed the bridge to let the watercraft through the distance between the spits of land were close enough to zip across with her needle.

Hornet decided to wait, allowing the sun to dip fully beyond the horizon, but to her displeasure the guards switched duty with new ones and brought out torches, the flames clearly illuminating the dismantled bridge.

Hornet let out a huff. She had already wasted too much time here; her instincts were urging her to get moving now. This was going to be messy.

Thinking quickly, she pulled out one of her inactivated spike traps and carefully maneuvered her way as close as possible to the edges of the light cast by the torches. She kept her hands under her cloak as she cast, the length of Soul-silk forming easily enough around the trap.

In a swift movement, she threw the trap into the light where the silk activated and suspended it almost invisibly between the ground and the wall above the stone door. Hornet was already moving by the time the trap sprang with a sharp snick, spiked pieces of shattered carapace glinting dangerously in the flickering light. Shouts rang out from above as the guards were drawn to the distraction and hornet took the opportunity to throw her needle, lodging it in the top of the left tower before zipping up after it.

Without hesitation, she jumped over the other side and onto the earthen bridge and started running, shifting her grip on the hilt of her needle so that her forearm was parallel from base to loop. There was more shouting from behind her and Hornet could distinctly hear someone scream “FIRE NATION ATTACK!”

The hairs on her back stood up and Hornet darted to the right, a moment before a massive boulder landed on the bridge where she had been, shaking the earth and leaving a crater where it landed.

She did not look back.

The bridge ahead of her was down, but a wooden watercraft was passing through and Hornet shifted her grip once again to throw her needle, the weapon flying true and into the mast of the vessel before she zipped after it, barely taking a moment to steady herself before she thew the weapon once more into the other half of the bridge.

The green spellcasters on the other side were waiting for her when landed, boulders hovering above the group of ten, illuminated by flickering torchlight.

“Surrender,” said the one in front, hand curled into a fist held back as if to punch her, “There’s nowhere for you to go, Fire Nation scum.”

Hornet stood up, subtly shifting her grip once more into a combat pose and raising the point of her needle to face the speaker. A light flick of the loop of her needle and a cloud of Soul-silk danced around her, inactive but ready to lash out. “Your words are worthless. If you choose to make me your foe, cease this prattle and attack!”

In response the spellcasters threw their boulders at her. Hornet jumped straight up, easily clearing the large projectiles and landing on the rubble left behind, sliding down and forward towards her opponents, and lunging for the closest one.

Before she could reach them a wall of earth shot up in front of her, and Hornet was forced to jump backwards as the wall fell towards where she had been moving. Hornet landed only for the ground beneath her to start rumbling and she jumped up again.

If the earth itself was being turned against her, she would just have to work around it. The ground couldn’t crumble beneath her if she was in the air; likewise, her attackers couldn’t throw large boulders at her if she was too close to one of their cohorts unless they wished to risk crushing both of them.

From the peak of her jump, she threw her needle at the feet of the lead spellcaster, letting the silk drag her forward and yanking her needle free before she landed. Just in time she brough her weapon up in time to block a much smaller rock thrown with more precision and force than the larger boulders were.

The sensation of a hit contacting her needle triggered her instincts, and she lashed out in a counterattack that would easily knock an opponent away and crack a lesser insect’s carapace.  

That was not what happened. The tip of her needle caught in the fabric on the spellcaster’s thorax, ripping through it with no resistance and leaving a jagged – wet – gash in its wake. A new, vaguely familiar scent filled the air. Soft skin with an internal framework.

Husks were only capable of making so many noises, their minds mostly worn away by the Hateful Light. Panting, grunting, the occasional mad mumblings from ones that were still fresh, still alive in some capacity.

The spellcaster screamed. It clutched at its shoulder as red fluid flowed out from the wound, and Hornet was left off-balance, still trying to comprehend what had happened while the spellcaster's fear flooded the air in new, distinct pheromone.

Her moment of hesitation was all her opponents needed, and a rock collided with her with a solid crack and Hornet went sailing off the bridge and into the river.

The water was frigid, and Hornet struggled to get her limbs to uncurl from her side where the rock hit. Fighting to surface, Hornet popped up with a gasp, and treaded water with one arm. The current had drawn her away from the bridge, far enough that her attackers likely couldn’t continue their assault.

Gritting her fangs, she kicked weakly to towards the riverbank. By the time she reached it her movements had grown sluggish and she only just managed to drag herself out of the water’s cold embrace.

With a flash of Soul, she wrapped her injury and finally let herself collapse in the undergrowth and not a moment later Hornet passed out, the taste of honey soothing her from the back of her throat.

Hornet’s progress towards her unknown destination was slightly slower now that she was no longer following the main road, but it also meant that she didn’t have to interact with any more of the sentient surface beasts, which was fine by her. She followed smaller trails and paths, sometimes flat out leaving them to make her own way and always skirting away from the occasional village she passed.

She was making progress, marked by the rise and fall of the sun and the changing of the environment around her. The moon grew full and then shrank back down. The sun rose later and set earlier every day until it didn’t. The trees she traveled through had no leaves, then only had spiky needles, and then disappeared completely as she climbed a high mountain pass.

By far the worst thing beyond the ache of her missing siblings and lost kingdom was the rain.

Rain in the City of Tears was expected. Regular. Consistent. One could count time by it. In fact, Hornet was pretty sure that the old relic seeker who had set up shop there had built a timekeeper that ran by measuring rain. It was probably one of the only accurate timekeepers in all of Hallownest, since the statis prevented any of the Soul powered devices from working properly.

But here on the surface rain was not consistent. It came in surges, thundering hard one minute and pattering out the next, only to settle into a drizzle that could last for days on end or barely a few more moments.

Quite frankly, Hornet hated it. This latest storm had lasted the past two days and she was sick of the irregular downpour.

But now the storm seemed to be moving on, and the sun burning through the remaining clouds was a beautiful sight to behold, the way the landscape came to life with the sounds of creatures returning to their normal schedules in a way that Hornet could not remember happening before in Hallownest.

She took a moment to breath the clean air in, stepping out of the overhang she had been sheltering under and enjoying the sun. A cool presence brushed against the King’s Brand, and Hornet pressed against it in return. It was time to get moving.

The road she followed now was a larger one, zig zagging up a steep hill and leading further towards the setting sun. At the crest she froze, trying to process the sight in front of her. The land fell away before her leaving only a blue surface stretching out towards the horizon. It glittered with the reflection of the sunlight and it took a moment for Hornet to recognize it as water, with the faintest whiff of salt coming from its direction.

It couldn’t be a lake. Unbidden, a word from her memory floated up, tales of great bodies of water the Weavers sailed across. A Sea.

Staring at it made her deeply uncomfortable, and she shook her head to focus on the land that was still before her. The road led down to a small village hugging the sea, green roofs on wooden boardwalks. There were several watercrafts moored to docks, some small wooden vessels and one larger metal one. There were more of the fleshy beasts down there, going about their lives completely indifferent to the massive sea so close to them. Or perhaps they had built their lives around it, integrated it into who they were.

Down there was where she needed to be. Hornet took another deep breath before setting off and into the small village. As in the last village she could feel eyes tracking her movement. The villagers wore simple but colorful clothing, greens and tans were predominant, but there were blues and reds as well.

Hornet followed a gentle nudge in the back of her mind and slowly walked towards the boardwalk right at the edge of the sea.

There was a periodic thundering sound and Hornet spared a moment glancing up to the still blue sky, before focusing in front of herself again. It was only when she looked forward that she noticed the waves rolling in and crashing against the rocks. There were never any waves like that in Hallownest, either in the Blue Lake or the Distant Village waters. It was unnerving, but not enough to get her to ignore her instincts.

Resolute, she continued until she reached to boardwalk proper and stood staring down the sea next to one of the wooden watercrafts.

Now what? She was here, where she felt she needed to be, but why?

“Oh great, not another one,” someone said nearby. “Look, I already told the other soldiers everything I knew, I’ve got nothing more to say!”

Hornet turned to see one of the beasts shaking an angry finger at her from the watercraft, a wrinkled being with white hair coving its face and a straw hat on its head. “Pardon?” she said in confusion, staring at the accusing finger.

“You heard me, I already told the angry ponytail boy all about the Avatar, the water tribe kids, and their creepy masked friend!”

Masked friend? The creature had her undivided attention now, and Hornet deliberately stepped into their space, glaring up at them with a hand on her needle’s hilt. “The Masked one. What did they look like?”

The creature stared down at her, almost cross eyed and completely taken aback. “Uh, it was short. A white mask with little horns on it. Wasn’t much of a talker.”

Hornet’s heart soared. Ghost was here, somewhere close by! “Where did they go?” she all but hissed out.

The creature’s arms came up, hands held high. “I don’t know!” they said and Hornet really did hiss, “It’s the truth miss! It flew off with the Avatar on his Sky Bison! But uh, the other guy, the teen with the ponytail? He said he was tracking the Avatar, maybe you should go work with him? He’s here with the Fire Nation cruiser over there,” The creature said nodding towards the metal vessel she had spotted earlier, faint tinges of the creature's fear filling the air.

“You’ve been most helpful,” Hornet said, stepping back and bobbing her head in a traditional Deepnest bow, before turning away from them and towards the metal monstrosity. After so long chasing feelings she finally had a solid lead.

“Hang in there, Little Ghost,” Hornet whispered, “I’m coming for you.”

Chapter Text

It started with a cough. After their assault on Jet, Ghost was still rather tired, a novel sensation that had quickly grown old. They didn’t really experience exhaustion in the way living bugs tended to; being stuck in a limbo where they were constantly fighting their exhaustion to release their firm grip on their Void had been stressful.

But their rest had paid off, and they had been able to return to the world of the living in time to no longer be a burden for their companions during the storm.

Ghost knew more than most how painful the past could be, how choices, even those outside of their control could have resulted in drastically different options. If those monks hadn’t told Aang he was a Vessel he would have died with the rest of his people. If the Pale King hadn’t pissed off the Old Light they likely wouldn’t exist, or perhaps they would but as a living godling with many living siblings instead of a pit full of broken masks.

But despite past choices made by others Aang had survived, and Ghost was a Voided Vessel turned God.

And Aang had managed to overcome his own haunted past enough to pull himself, Ghost, Katara, Sokka, Appa, and the rude fisherman from the crush of the ocean and to safety in the sky.

And then the coughing started.

Ghost wasn’t sure what to make of it at first, the way Sokka was spasming until they noticed it getting more frequent and more wet, and the way Katara and Aang kept sharing glances despite Sokka insisting he was fine. By the time the boy was shaking uncontrollably the other humans insisted on landing in the ruins of an overgrown stone-carved city.

Katara pressed a hand to her brother’s forehead, frowning. “He’s burning up. I don’t think it’s a good idea to fly while he’s in this condition.”

“It’s probably because he was out in the storm for longer than the rest of us. It’s no surprise he’s getting sick,” Aang said evenly from where he was rubbing Appa’s nose as if he wasn’t declaring something horrific. Sickness meant infection, and infection came from Her. But She was dead. So, the sickness was coming from someone else, some other unknown Higher Being that they had inadvertently wandered into the territory of. But they couldn’t sense anyone else. Just the other fledging godling, and Aang would never do anything to hurt his friends.

Ghost stared, a feeling of dread overcoming them as they slunk closer to where Sokka was bundled up on Appa’s side. Sokka blinked at them blearily before mumbling “That’s a nice hat you’re wearing, Ghost.”

Ghost leaned in closer to look at his eyes. They were still light blue, no hint of infectious orange creeping into them but if Sokka was already starting to see things it was only a matter of time. What was the source of this infection?

“Let’s go ahead and set up camp here. Aang, can you take a look around, see if you can’t find something useful like ginger root for tea,” Katara said climbing up into Appa’s saddle and rummaging around in the bags. “Ghost, would you mind gathering some firewood? Don’t wander too far.”

Ghost looked back at Katara and placed their hand on Sokka’s cheek. The boy continued to shiver but leaned into their touch. It took another few moments before Katara noticed that they hadn’t moved.

“Are you worried about Sokka? He’ll be alright. Gran-Gran taught me how to deal with little colds like this. They’re easy enough to catch when you live in the South Pole.” Katara said, sliding down Appa’s tail and moving towards them with her arms full of supplies.

This was a regular thing? That was a horrifying thought, that humans could live under gods that would regularly choose to plague them with disease and madness. But if Katara had a way to counter it, then Ghost would do what they could to help.

With a nod to the waterbender they jumped to it, hopping up to one of the many openings in the wall overlooking the ruined city below them. Clouds gathered above them in a threatening manner. They’d better hurry up if they wanted to find dry wood.

In the distance they could see Aang hopping around from ruined building to ruined building as they picked up kindling and larger pieces of wood and placing them into their Void-pocket before heading back.

Katara gave them a weak grin as they dropped their supply out from under their cloak before she started arranging the wood into a fire. Ghost carefully moved back to Sokka, alarmed to see his eyes glazed over.

They gently reached towards him and brushed their hand against his leaking forehead. Sokka stared at them blearily before whispering, “Whoa. Shiny.” They continued to pet his head as Katara got a fire going behind them. Soon enough she was moving back towards them with a wet cloth in hand and gently nudged Ghost out of the way to wipe Sokka’s forehead with it. “This should bring your fever down.”

Sokka shivered and stared at her. “You know what I love about Appa the most? His sense of humor,” he said, leaning away from the cloth.

“That’s nice,” Katara said, chasing after his forehead to keep the wet fabric on it, “I’ll tell him.”

Ghost stared at the siblings as Sokka let out a weak laugh at the sound of Appa’s growl. Why wasn’t she more concerned about her sibling? This was concerning behavior from him, Sokka had never acted like this before!

Katara glanced at Ghost and gave them a weak smile.  “Don’t worry too much Ghost. He’s always like this when he gets a cold.”

Soft footsteps announced Aang’s return and both Katara and Ghost looked over to him as he approached. “How’s Sokka doing?” he called out, stopping a few steps away.

“Not good. Being out in that storm really did a number on him.”

“I couldn’t find any ginger root, but I did find a map,” Aang said, lifting up a scroll for them to see before spreading it out on the ground between them. “There’s an herbalist institute on the top of that mountain,” he said poking at the map before waving toward the visible mountain range outside their shelter. “I bet we could find a cure for Sokka there.”

Ghost perked up. Could a mortal cure help? Before they could do anything Katara spoke up.

“Sokka’s in no condition to travel! He just needs more rest. I’m sure he’ll be better by tomorrow.” Suddenly, Katara curled in on herself, harsh hacking interrupting anything else she might have been trying to say. Ghost stared at her in alarm.

“Not you too,” Aang said with a frown and Ghost had to turn to stare at him. The sickness was spreading, and there was no sign of something they could fight to kill it.

Katara and Aang were still talking but Ghost couldn’t tell what they were saying over the mounting panic coursing through them and making their Void curl in on itself. They reached up to tilt Katara’s face towards them to see if they could see any Light in her eyes, but all that was visible was exhaustion before she brushed them off.

“I’m going to go find some medicine!” Aang said decisively, ending whatever argument they were having. “Ghost, you stay here and watch over Sokka and Katara until I get back.”

He was leaving them? Ghost stood up and ran after Aang as he moved towards the open balcony on the side of their shelter, tugging at the leg of his pants. The other godling paused and looked down at them before reaching over and cupping the underside of their mask. “Don’t worry, I won’t be gone too long” he said brandishing his staff.

A moment later a bright flash of lighting lit up the sky followed immediately by the roar of thunder.

“Maybe it’s safer if I go on foot,” Aang said with a sheepish grin before holding out his staff for Ghost to take. Unsure of what else to do, Ghost took it, cradling it awkwardly as they watched Aang jump down and start running away, a chorus of hacking sounds coming from behind them.

It didn’t take much effort to get Katara cocooned up in her bedroll as well, and after that Ghost is left with two coughing humans and a Sky Bison that seems more than happy to just lay there acting as a giant fluffy pillow. Ghost drifted between tending the fire and bringing Katara and Sokka water. Sokka seems completely out of it, spouting nonsense that fills Ghost with fear previously associated with a mumbled song full of forgotten lyrics. Katara grows weaker.

The storm brews and threatens but never quite breaks.

And Ghost frets.

Quietly, so as to not wake their companions now that they have finally fallen asleep, Ghost rummages through their items to see if they have anything that could possibly help. Their map and quill are quickly set aside, along with all their spare spidersilk paper, the Hunter’s Journal, and the single arcane egg and King’s Idol they still have. They might throw down the Idol a little harder than necessary but no one else has to be aware of that. All useless for their friends.

Next is their collection of charms, carefully laid out together. They aren’t sure if humans can really use charms, but they don’t currently have any healing-focused charms since Hollow still has Quick Focus and Deep Focus. They hope their larger sibling was doing okay.

Back to their task at hand. The lumafly lantern is next, the tiny bug fluttering about in its glass enclosure. Ghost gives it an affectionate pat before leaning their tram pass up against it. The pass is useless outside of Hallownest, but the comfort of even a single lumafly helps remind them that they are never truly alone.

Shuffling around in their Void-pocket they felt something slimy. They probably shouldn’t bring out any of their rancid eggs. Hornet always says that they smell horrible, and they don’t want to upset their companions in case they can smell it too. It would also probably be best to leave their Creeping Crystal they took from King Bumi in their Void as well, lest it start creeping too much.

There was an acorn from the burnt forest, and the pebble they took from Sokka by a riverbank. A carved wooden stag beetle from a vendor, a green bolt of fabric as well as a fan and headdress from Kyoshi. Not overly helpful at the moment.

Which left them with vast quantities of geo as well as a few borrowed coins of the surface world, all neatly stacked by type. Money didn’t help if there was no one to buy things from. Ghost belatedly realized that maybe they should have given some to Aang in case he needed to pay for the medicine he was trying to get.

Too late to worry about that. Something was wiggling inside of their Void-pocket and that deserved all of their attention.

Ghost grabbed the small, gelatinous thing and held it up, revealing a sluggishly wriggling Lifeseed. They stared at it a moment longer before grabbing for their charm stash. Switching out some of their offensive charms, Ghost replaced them with Joni’s blessing and immediately the little creature calmed down.

Gently lowering the Lifeseed to the ground the placated critter cuddled up next to them as they stared at it. Ghost had completely forgotten that they had it, and what felt like two more still wriggling around in their void. Just like how the Lord of Shade’s domain encompassed the Lifeblood Creature’s lair their Void contained the pods of potential as well, sheltered and protected, and ready to be brough out in case of emergencies.

Or at least that was the idea. Ghost gave the little Lifeseed a pat before glancing over at their sick friends. Lifeblood was good, but it was for physical wounds. Would their fellow god’s little blessings be able to help fend off diseases or was the human’s illness something in their head?

Ghost didn’t know, and they did not want to waste a Lifeseed if it would have no effect.

Ghost froze in their petting of the Lifeseed. There was a way to see if it was something in their friends’ heads. Carefully, they tucked away the little Lifeseed back into their Void before they let the hilt of the Dream Nail fall into their hand, approaching the sleeping figures.

They hesitated for a moment. It was one thing to use the Dream Nail on an enemy, in the heat of battle or when they needed to insight into other’s minds that they had no other way of getting from them; it was hard to interrogate without a mouth. But from a friend? Some beings could tell when they were rooting around in their minds. The Midwife of the deep certainly did not like it, and Hornet had told them it was rather rude.

But there wasn’t any other way they could think of to find out if there was a malevolent intent behind their friend’s sickness.

With that decided, they let their intent flow into the hilt and swung the ethereal nail through Sokka’s thorax.

They were prepared to be launched into the dream realm, to fight anyone who’s lingering presence was plaguing their friend’s mind, but all that happened was a trickle of Sokka’s thoughts falling into their head.

Cold... Head full of penguin-seal fluff… Gran-Gran?

Ghost stumbled back. They remembered Katara and Sokka mentioning that their guardian was called Gran-Gran, but she wasn’t here. But other than that, Sokka’s mind was empty of outside influence. Carefully, they checked that Sokka was still sleeping peacefully before glancing towards Katara. Just like her brother, she was still fast asleep, shivering in her sleeping bag. Once more. Ghost let the Dream Nail ignite and swept it through their companion.

Throat hurts. When will Aang get back?

Ghost slumped back. Nothing. No higher beings wreaking havoc on mortal creatures, no lingering heat, just confusion and deliriousness. Ghost was left to conclude that this sickness was not the work of a vengeful god, but rather the fragility of mortal life.

They curled up on Appa’s side, between the two human siblings, clutching at the Brand on their shoulder and take comfort when they can feel their siblings’ delayed responses, settling the Void swirling in unease inside of them.

“Do you think we could have been friends too?”

The question lingers unanswered in Aang’s head, accompanied only by the tingle of a phantom pair of blades at his throat and burning heat lingering at his feet.

He’s exhausted. The breakout from the prison stronghold left physical aches while the mental whiplash from seeing Zuko of all people behind the mask of his savior still leaves him reeling. Combined with the long run back to the swamp to pick up some more frozen frogs and the journey back to the ruined city shelter that his companions were waiting in left him feeling completely rung out.

There’s a heaviness to his steps that he hasn’t felt in a long time and the moment he hauls himself through the open balcony of the shelter Aang can see Ghost lift their head. They’re curled up between the Water Tribe siblings and Katara stirs at their movement.

The little spirit hops up and runs towards him as he slowly makes his way towards the waking siblings. They jump up and down next to him, their tiny arms making grabbing motions as he pulled out the frozen frogs.

“Suck on these,” Aang said to Sokka and Katara as they blinked blearily at him as he deposited a frog in each mouth, “They’ll make you feel better.”

A moment later he flopped down on Appa’s tail, his old buddy letting out the softest of questioning growls. Ghost hopped up onto his chest, staring at him with their head tilted.

“Aang! How was your trip? Did you make any new friends?” Sokka called out around a mouthful of frog.

The phantom tingle of a pair of blades at his throat and a burning heat lingering at his feet.

“No,” he said, shifting Ghost off his chest to cuddle into their cool comfort as he turned to his side. “I don’t think I did.”

“Do you think we could have been friends too?”

Despite his exhaustion, Zuko lay awake in his bed, staring at nothing as those words swirl around in his mind. He needed to capture the Avatar, there was no other way for Zuko to redeem himself.

The Avatar had been born over a hundred years ago.

The Avatar was a child.

The Avatar had friends in the Fire Nation, long dead at this point.

The Avatar was the last barrier in preventing the Fire Nation from spreading its prosperity to the rest of the world.

Despite being captured by his enemies, the Avatar had chosen to spare them, his fighting had been in sync with Zuko’s own in disarming and disabling the Fire Nation soldiers instead of killing them.

Zuko would never hurt his own people, and the Avatar did not either.

The Avatar had saved him. If Zhao had discovered who was behind the Blue Spirit mask, he would have every right to execute him as a traitor to his people, but instead the Avatar had chosen to whisk him away, left him unrestrained even after Zuko had lashed back out at him.

At least one of them still had their honor.

Zuko shifted his eyes to the side, the Fire Nation tapestry adorning the wall of his quarters and watching over him as a silent judge.

He hadn’t betrayed his Nation. He would catch the Avatar, not some slimy honorless Admiral, and he would bring the Avatar back to his father and be restored.

It was his destiny.

… His head hurt from where the Yuyan Archer had struck him.

He closed his eyes tight against the overwhelming redness of his quarters. Despite his exhaustion, sleep evaded him for a long time.

Zuko woke with the sun, his eyes opening with the crusty film of lack-of-sleep. He gently eased himself up, his legs dangling off the side of the bed. He gave himself just a moment to breathe before getting ready to start his day.

It was only after getting dressed that he looked up and realized his dual dao were missing, left behind on the riverboat when he had returned the previous evening.

Zuko cursed under his breath before quietly slipping out of his quarters. At this time of morning, only a handful of the crew and his uncle should be awake, and those who were would be busy doing their assigned tasks. He would be able to retrieve the swords without being seen; no reason for anyone to accuse him of treason.

“Do you think we could have been friends too?” the Avatar’s childish voice whispered in his head. Zuko firmly told it to shut up.

On full alert, Zuko silently moved through the corridors, making his way downwards to the main deck.

He wasn’t sneaking, not on his own ship. Just being extra cautious.

There was no one else on the deck, and he cast a cautious glance upwards to the command tower to ensure no one was watching him as he headed down into the aft hold. The stairwell was empty too, but when he reached the hold, he hesitated.

There was something off about the air in there. Something had changed since he was in the hold last night, or perhaps he was now alert enough to notice it. It felt like someone was watching him. Zuko froze, holding his breath and shifting only his eyes. There were shadows along the walls, as still as he was.

He released his breath. Something glittered in his peripheral. There was a thin, almost transparent string drifting through the air. Zuko slowly brought up his hand and watched as the string danced in the shifting air currents, one end leading back to a high corner where the shadows were deepest.

Zuko took another step forward before wheeling around with a shout, sending burst of flames into the high corner where the densest shadow dropped to the floor in a flutter of red fabric.

“There will be no stowaways on my ship!” he growled out, sending another blast towards the figure. He had enough time to see a glint of a white mask and a feel a flash of fury when he realized someone was stealing his (definitely not traitorous) tactics before the figure darted out of the way of the second flame burst and let out a giggle.

Zuko felt his rage burning through him as the figure lifted a weapon that was somewhere between a spear and a sword as (she?) laughed again. A dark (armored?) hand peeked out from under the cloak and curled into a fist. A line of light flickered through the air and Zuko realized belatedly that the glinting string he had noticed earlier was attached to her wrist, a trap that she held the trigger to.

The line of light zipped around the hold, seemingly attached to everything and anything before she darted out of the way of his third fire blast, pulling the line taunt before darting towards the stairwell.

It wasn’t a string. It was wire of some sort, spread throughout the entire hold and Zuko’s attempt to run after the stowaway got him tangled in it. In his initial confusion he struggled against the surprisingly strong material and got himself even further trapped before letting out a roar and a burst of flame.

Zuko watched incredulously as his fire flickered along the lines of shining material ineffectively as the stowaway let out another giggle from the base of the stairs before scurrying away.

“Get back here!” Zuko shouted, flailing about. His arms were being pulled in a painful direction, the wires digging into his skin uncomfortably where his bracers were not protecting it. It took him longer than he would like to admit before he came to his senses. Zuko took a deep breath before concentrating on forming a tight jet of superheated flame and twisting his hand to touch it to the wire restricting his arm. The wire glowed brightly under the concentrated heat before snaping, the tension holding him dissipating as he fell forward without its support.

He shook it off quickly before taking off after the stowaway, noting uncomfortably that the entire length of wire had completely disappeared, as if it had never been there to begin with.

Zuko just barely caught himself from barreling directly into the stairwell and into the myriad of crisscrossing filaments covering it. How had the stowaway had time to set this? He hadn’t noticed anything off with the stairs when he came down them.

With a snarl of frustration, Zuko focused his anger into concentrated flames and felt some satisfaction at the slight tink noise the snapping lines made before he burst out onto the aft deck.

There was no one there.

Zuko narrowed his eyes. The stowaway couldn’t have gotten too far, there was only so many places to hide on a ship on open water.

Seething, Zuko turned away from the empty deck and made his way to the command tower. He would have heard if the stowaway had opened any of the heavy doors, right? Either way, it slammed behind him in an extremely satisfying manner as he worked his way up to the bridge.

Upon reaching the bridge, Zuko threw open the door hard enough to bounce off the bulkhead, and he took a moment to take in the reactions of the people inside, to ensure that it was properly appreciated.

The first day-shift helmsman didn’t look up, his training preventing him from doing more than tightening his grip on the helm, but the nightshift helmsman was still there and his spooked jump to attention was amusing. Uncle and Lieutenant Jee had startled from where they had the maps spread out over the navigation/Pai Sho table. Both had jumped at his abrupt entrance, but Zuko was mildly disappointed to see that his uncle had managed to keep a firm grip on his tea; not a single drop had spilled.

“Prince Zuko, we have discussed treating the infrastructure of the ship with respec–”

“There is a stowaway on the ship,” Zuko said dramatically, cutting off Uncle before he could finish his beratement.

“What?!” Lieutenant Jee straightened up, “How can you be sure?”

“I saw her myself. She was wearing a red cloak and a mask that resembles a firebenders, but entirely white. When I tried to confront her in the aft hold, she triggered some sort of wire trap and escaped up onto the deck.” Zuko absently noticed the nightshift helmsman shifting into the background while carefully cataloging Jee’s unbridled anger and Uncle’s thoughtful expression.

“Alert the crew,” the Lieutenant barked at the still hovering helmsman, who now looked like he was regretting not making his escape earlier, “I want this stowaway found, locked up, and thrown off the ship by the time we reach the next port!”

“Yes sir!” the unfortunate helmsman said before darting out the door, followed shortly after by the Lieutenant. Uncle stroked his beard and let out a soft hmm.

The older man’s expression shifted from thoughtful to concerned, almost too fast for Zuko to track before it was carefully hidden in neutrality as Uncle tucked his hands into his sleeves.

Zuko huffed a sigh before moving to stand next to him “What are you thinking Uncle?” he asked evenly. 

Uncle didn’t look away from the steady horizon. “A white mask you say?”

“Yes. It covered her entire face. She might have been wearing some type of armor too.”

“Did she say anything?”

“… No. She just dodged my attacks and laughed at me.”

“Hmm.” Uncle said eloquently, and frustratingly enough, he refused to elaborate.

The thing no outsider ever seems to realize is that the Spiders of Distant Village did not just drape silk over every surface of their town to just hold the den together. There were many strands of silk that were purposefully laid down taunt and hidden so that any unaware of their presence would stumble across them and alert the denizens of their presence.

Back before Herrah went to Dream, Hornet had always been begrudgingly impressed at Mother and Midwife’s omniscient when it came to stopping her from going on adventures by herself as a spiderling before she was informed of Beast’s Den’s security measures.

Of course, this floating fortress of metal was not Beast’s Den, and Hornet could not spin real silk. However, from her current perch on the wooden crates in one of the storage holds she was able to add the finishing flourish for her current set of Soul-silk lines, stretched taunt throughout the corridors and decks of the ship, alerting her to all movment in her vicinity.

The surface dwellers seemed to be mostly oblivious to the lines, with the exclusion of the angry flame-slinger who had discovered her first and the soft grey-haired one. The former still made it easy to detect their movements, as even if they spotted her Soul-silk they would always destroy it in a fit of heated anger, the lost tension a telltale sign of their approach.

It was the soft grey-haired one that was more concerning, as they somehow seemed to always manage to step over or around her silk, avoiding detection until it was almost too late.

Hornet sat back and observed her work. The strings glinted with a pulse of Soul, active and waiting for the next person to stumble across them. It was by no means as elaborate as the lines were in her childhood home, but it would have to do for now. She might be a godling, but her Soul supplies were limited and she needed to reserve some in case she had another encounter with the angry flame-slinger.

Her current situation was untenable. Eventually there would be an encounter with the inhabitants of the ship that she could not avoid. She needed the ship to take her to Ghost, and she needed to not cause undo harm to the crew; she could not run the ship herself. And hurting the crewmembers was out of the question as well, she couldn’t afford to have a vengeful crew spending their entire energy on trying to find and kill her.

Hornet felt the light vibrations of an approaching crewmember and carefully tucked herself as low as possible to be out of their line of sight as they entered the hold. It turned out to just be the beast tamer, and she watched as they moved to start feeding the large beasts being kept here.

Hornet had chosen this particular place to be a central hiding spot because the beasts were here. The smell in this hold was strong and would disguise her own if the crew’s own sense of smell was keen enough to detect her, she still wasn’t exactly sure how the flame-slinger had detected her back in the other hold. 

One of the beasts lowed and Hornet watched as the beast tamer pat its large head. They were rather friendly creatures as far as she could tell, but not sapient. It was still disturbing how the surface seemed to only have one predominant sapient type.

Hornet continued her vigil, observing the beast tamer until their duty was complete and they left the way they came, heading up a stairwell and leaving her alone with the beasts. Shifting her hand to lay on the bundle of Soul-silk lines, she settled down to rest.

Something was going to change soon. She could feel it, brewing in the air and in the back of her mind. She would just have to be patient and wait to see what it was. Any day now…

Zuko was understandably, at least in his mind, frustrated beyond all belief. It had been almost a week since their stowaway had been discovered and she had yet to be caught.

That is not to say that no one had seen her since his first encounter. It seemed that a good third of the crew had seen movement out of the corner of their eyes, a flash of red cloak or white mask, and one of the engineers swore up and down that she had laughed at him.

Zuko was convinced that she was taunting him, but that was a sentiment he was unwilling to share.

“I have the report from the Cook,” Lieutenant Jee said, returning Zuko's conscious mind to the bridge where he and Uncle were gathered, “Our food supplies haven’t been tampered with. Our stowaway hasn’t gotten into them yet.”

“It’s only a matter of time then,” Zuko said, crossing his arms with a frown. “Eventually she will have to eat. Even if she brought supplies with herself, they will run out.”

Uncle rubbed his beard thoughtfully, but it was the Lieutenant who spoke up. “We are only a few more days from port. She might try to disembark then.”

Zuko growled at that. “Our ship already has a bad enough reputation. I don’t need it getting out to Admiral Zhao that we let stowaways go freely.”

“So far there has been no damage to the ship reported, no close encounters other than yours.” Lieutenant Jee frowned as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “The crew is unnerved, but without any other information to go off of it seems like our stowaway is simply a civilian seeking passage.”

“An armed civilian. Dressed in a poor-man’s uniform, or an imitation of it,” Zuko hissed out, “Impersonating a soldier is a crime.”

“Perhaps we are going about this the wrong way,” Uncle said, placing a steady hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “Instead of waiting for our uninvited guest to show herself we could reach out to her first. After all, it would have to be an incredibly desperate civilian to stow away on a navy ship like ours.”

The Lieutenant straightened up. “You want to try and talk a stowaway out of hiding?”

Uncle raised his brow at the Lieutenant’s tone of voice. “Desperate people do desperate things. It might be more productive to approach her with less hostility since she appears to be rather adept at avoiding our searches.”

“I want her off my ship!” Zuko snarled, clenching his ands hard enough that his nails were digging into his palms but that didn’t matter.

“Patience Prince Zuko. It would be easier to negotiate her departure if she was willing to sit down and talk. Unless you’re willing to spend the rest of her stay here dodging her traps,” Uncle said in his annoyingly calm tone as Zuko tried to not flush at the memory of the tangle of wires that had somehow appeared outside his quarters and sent him sprawling in front of several of the spearmen.

Pushing the embarrassing memory aside, Zuko took a centering breath. “Fine. We try and talk things out with her. Where do we start?”

“You originally found her in the aft hold, correct?” Lieutenant Jee asked, “We can start at the forward hold and work our way back. If she’s as agile as you say, she would probably want to be in an area where she can maneuver around freely.”

With no better suggestion, Zuko found himself begrudgingly leading their small group down to the hold. Upon entering he promptly kicked out the Wrangler, who slunk away from the komodo-rhinos without a word. After the man left, he raised his voice, trying to feel like he wasn’t shouting into an empty hold.

“I know you’re here somewhere. Come out, and we can negotiate.”

His voice echoed through the hold as the trio looked around. Just as Zuko was about to declare this hold a bust a slam resonated through the air, drawing their attention to the closed door leading back to deck, or rather the figure barring the way.

“Then negotiate, Flame-Slinger,” the stowaway said, masked head tilted slightly as she raised her gleaming weapon to point unerringly at his throat, “And pray your words speak louder than your actions.”

Zuko felt a shiver run down his spine. There was no way she hadn’t rehearsed that, right? He didn’t recognize her weapon, but her stance was solid, the long hilt braced against her forearm while her hand gripped it close to where a cross guard would be on a true sword. She was shorter than Zuko had originally estimated, the prongs of her mask making her look taller than she truly was, and the red cloak spilled around her more like a dress than anything else. Holding still, he could see that she was wearing some type of armor, plates that covered her revealed arm but almost looked like they were covered in a fine layer of woven fabric.

“There is no reason for hostilities,” Uncle said calmy, slipping his hands into his sleeves. “We do not wish to harm you.” Zuko was grateful for his Uncle’s presence at the moment. The older man had always been better with words than Zuko was.

The stowaway considered them for a moment longer before shifting her blade away and straightening up, coiled tension relaxing slightly.

“Perhaps we should introduce ourselves?” Uncle said when the stowaway made no further motions, “This is Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation and Lieutenant Jee, Captain of the ship,” he said, gesturing to Zuko and the Lieutenant respectively before adding almost as an afterthought, “I am Iroh.”

The stowaway’s blank mask was unnerving and Zuko was starting to get a headache staring at it. Dark eyes glittered just slightly from behind their recess, but it was almost impossible to tell exactly what she was staring at.

“I am Hornet of Deepnest,” the stowaway said evenly, staring. Gauging their reactions.

Next to him, Lieutenant Jee frowned. “I’ve been all over the world and I’ve never heard of as place called Deepnest.”

“Perhaps you have heard of our larger neighbor, Hallownest?” At their blank looks Hornet huffed a sigh. “I thought not. I have traveled far from my homeland.”

That was almost an understatement. Over the past three years he had traveled to almost every port on the coasts that would tolerate a banished prince or a Fire Nation vessel. Zuko had never heard an accent like Hornet’s before; almost melodical but with a slight clicking noise with each word slipping out from behind her mask.

Zuko took a deep breath, settling his nerves. “Why are you on my ship?” he managed to ask in an almost civil manner. Uncle should be proud. The stowaway tilted her head at him, considering for a moment.

“We are after similar goals.”

Blood rushed in Zuko’s ears and it took both of the adults grabbing his arms to stop him from charging directly at Hornet. “I won’t let anyone get in my way of capturing the Avatar!” he snarled, struggling against the restraints and Uncle’s quiet, “Calm yourself, Prince Zuko!”

“Peace,” Hornet said, free hand lifted up as if trying the gentle a raging Komodo-rhino. “I am not after the one they call the Avatar.”

Zuko stopped struggling to stare at her in bewilderment. This could be a trap, a spy sent by Zhao to infiltrate and stop him from getting the Avatar first. He was definitely underhanded enough to try something like that, but why send someone as suspicious as this Hornet was with her strange clothes and stranger accent? It didn’t make any sense.

“My siblings have been taken from me. I was told that one of them was spotted with the Avatar. If you can lead me to the Avatar, I will be able to retrieve my sibling, and we will be on our way. I have no interest in anything else.”

“You’re siblings with the Water Tribe peas- I mean, kids?” Hornet did not look remotely Water Tribe, not with the red cloak and steel weapon. She had to be from a Fire Nation Colony at the very least, even if he had never heard of the Deepnest Colony.

For the first time, he seemed to have her wrongfooted. “What? No. My sibling is the Vessel, Little Ghost!” Her tone was much more uncertain as she asked, “Have you not seen them with the Avatar?”

Zuko was about to deny that he had when his Uncle tapped him lightly on his shoulder before releasing his forgotten grip restraining him. “Your sibling, are they like you?”

Hornet considered him. “We most closely resemble each other, yes.”

“Dark blue cloak, white horned mask? About this tall? Uncle said, holding his hand down around his mid-thigh.

Tension seeped out of Hornet’s body. “You’ve seen them,” she breathed out lightly.

“When?” Zuko sputtered out, glancing at Lieutenant Jee who lifted one shoulder in a light shrug.

Uncle stroked his beard. “It was back when we were dealing with those pirates. As I recall, you were distracted by the captain when the little spirit sprung from the woods to free the young waterbender before running off again.”

Spirit? Zuko wondered, glancing at Hornet again. There was something … off about her, but he’s spent long enough chasing after signs of anything spiritual he was confident he could recognize the real thing. Hornet gave off strange feelings, almost itching at the edge of his senses, but that could be contributed to the fact that she had spent the past week practically stalking the ship’s crew, a predator waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce. His eyes itched staring at her and he was more convinced than ever that she was more akin to the Blue Spirit, an individual hiding behind an otherworldly mask for personal means.

She still could be a spy though.

“As I said, we are after similar goals. I do not wish to get in your way, as it is in my best interests for you to successfully track down your prey to lead me to my sibling.”

Beside him, Lieutenant Jee spoke up. “I do not tolerate stowaways on my ship. No self-respecting captain could.”

Hornet shifted, her other hand appearing from under her cloak with a twitch of her fingers and a glint of wire. A silent threat as Zuko tried to trace where the wire lead before she sprung another trap.

“Let us not be too hasty!” Uncle said, reaching around Zuko to lightly grip the Lieutenant’s shoulder. “We may not tolerate stowaways, but what about passengers?”

“Uncle-” Zuko protested at the same time Jee called out “Sir!”

“Listen to me, Prince Zuko. It would be much better for us all if miss Hornet was our ally rather than our enemy.” Uncle was staring at him evenly, his jovial tone abandoned for a more serious demeanor that Zuko had learned early on to listen to.

“I don’t like it.” Zuko whisper-growled back, “She could be a spy.”

“Trust me, my nephew. This one is no spy.”

It wasn’t often that Uncle was this insistent about things. Zuko let out a sigh that carried the hint of exasperated flame. “Fine,” he said loud enough to carry to the figure standing by the door, “If you want to stay, you’ll have to join the crew. We don’t have the resources to spare on anyone who isn’t contributing to the ship.”

Hornet relaxed her stance finally, weapon tucked away behind her back and nonthreatening for the first time. “What type of contributions?” she asked cautiously.

Jee straightened up. “I’m sure we’ll find something you’re capable of to keep you busy,” he said, and not causing trouble on the ship went unspoken, despite the smirk dancing around on the older man’s face.

Chapter Text

Iroh had seen a lot of things in his lifetime. A spirit walking freely among mortals was definitely a new one.

Not that Iroh could say for certain that Hornet was truly a spirit. Even in the Spirit World, most of the greater spirits had an ethereal air about them. She was a solid, physical presence walking behind them as the good Lieutenant took them of a quick tour of the ship, or at least the areas he was giving her allowance to enter.

For all that she was clearly not human, Hornet does not exude the same feeling that came off of her sibling. No, she radiates her own power, subtle but present like an itch in the back of his mind.

“ – And this leads to the engines which you are not to enter unless you are with another member of the crew.” Lieutenant Jee said, waving a hand at the stairwell now that they had ended up back on the main deck.

Hornet crossed her arms under her cloak. “I would not be so foolish as to sabotage my own means of transportation.”

The Lieutenant raised an unimpressed brow. “The engines have a lot of moving parts and heated elements. They’re dangerous to be around if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“And what exactly will she be doing?” Zuko jumped in, as impatient as ever when it came to something strange that he didn’t understand, “You did have something in mind, Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Jee frowned down at Hornet. “Have you ever been part of a crew before?”

“I’ve never been on a watercraft like this before. Hallownest only has two large bodies of water. The Blue Lake used to have small ferries but they fell into disrepair long ago. Distant Village’s Cistern was too cold to be safely traversed by most.”

More places Iroh had never heard of, but perhaps they were well known locations in the Spirit World. Questions for later. For now, he was savoring the absurd looks on his nephew’s and the good Lieutenant’s faces.

Jee cleared his throat after a moment. “Is there anything in particular you can contribute to the crew?”

Hornet’s hand drifted to her weapon, a claw-like finger, or perhaps just a straight-up claw tracing along the odd loop on its hilt. “I’m skilled with the Needle, and I am a trained Weaver.” There was an emphasis on the words she said, but Iroh couldn’t quite figure what the meaning behind it was. Jee stared at her, one brow raised.

“Right then. I guess we can get you started on laundry duty. Maybe some basic cleaning maintenance too.”

Hornet stared at him. “Do you not understand what it means to be trained in Weaving?”

“Of course I do. But there’s no such thing as a sailor who doesn’t know basic mending skills.” Jee said with a frown. “I’m not sure what backwater Earth Kingdom towns you’ve been through but in the Fire Nation all our soldiers need to possess basic survival skills. If they can’t mend their own shirt, they’ll be kicked off the ship faster than you can blink.”

Hornet looked extremely taken aback. Perhaps it was time to interfere.

“It is not quite late enough for the cooks to have dinner ready, but perhaps Miss Hornet would be willing to join me for some tea?” And perhaps he could ask some questions of his own, Iroh silently implied as he lifted a subtle brow towards the Lieutenant. Iroh was far more capable of asking prying questions than his nephew’s clumsy attempts; Hornet’s smooth verbal dodging during their tour had only emphasized it.

“But –” Zuko spluttered out before being interrupted.

“An excellent idea sir,” Jee said, already attempting to pull Zuko away. “The Prince and I can inform the remaining crew of our newest member before mealtime.”

Zuko shot him one final wounded look that Iroh resolved to apologize for later before turning to the maybe-spirit. “If you would be so kind as to follow me,” Iroh said, waiting for Hornet to give him a gentle nod before turning back towards the command tower. His quarters were about halfway up, and their footsteps echoed through the empty corridors, one set of solid boots on metal and one set of quiet tapping clawed feet.

“In here, Miss,” Iroh said, opening the door and gesturing for her to go in first, “Please make yourself comfortable while I make some tea.”

“Thank you,” Hornet said with a noticeable hint of discomfort as she made her way to the shortened table. Iroh busied himself with preparing a pot of jasmine tea, the motions familiar and covering up his discrete glances at his guest. Hornet carefully lowered herself to sit on the zabuton cushion, picking the side that gives her both a view of where Iroh is moving about as well as the door. He couldn’t help but notice how she left one hand on the hilt of her strange weapon.

Hornet’s dark eyes may have been etched into a perpetual glare of her mask, but her head traced his movements as Iroh brought over the teapot, lowering himself to sit opposite her. Iroh was following a very loose rendition of a proper Fire Nation tea ceremony, but Hornet either doesn’t notice or doesn’t know. He poured two cups of tea side by side before setting the pot aside and claiming his own cup, the motions fluid and ingrained into his memory. Right hand to left, the cup turned to face his guest. In contrast, Hornet picked her own cup up with her left before nodding to Iroh. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Iroh,” she said and he choked on the sip of tea he had just taken.

Spluttering, Iroh was forced to place his cup down before taking a deep breath. “Of course, Miss Hornet. But you are mistaken, I am no Lord.”

Hornet said nothing for a moment, lifting her head up just high enough to reveal her mouth under what Iroh had initially thought of as a chin and now was realizing was more akin to a snout. She sipped her tea before responding, and Iroh tried to not stare at the sharp fang-like appendages he caught a glimpse of.

“Names are sacred for my people; titles and epithets are of great importance. The Prince called you uncle. You are either royalty or married into royalty. That is, assuming you are not King yourself.”

“Ah,” Iroh said, gathering his thoughts. Clearly there was some culture clash happening here. “I believe we are having a little misunderstanding. The title for the ruler of the Fire Nation is Fire Lord, not King.” Hornet titled her head slightly, a silent urge to continue. “My younger brother is currently the Fire Lord, and either Prince Zuko or his sister Princess Azula will succeed him. I am no longer next in the line for the throne.”

“So then should I call you Prince Iroh?” Hornet asked, a -and that was defiantly a claw - tapping lightly against the hilt of her weapon before she moved to grip her cup with both hands.

“I would prefer if you do not. If you must use a title, I could accept being called General, although retired General is more accurate.” Iroh felt no need to bring up the Dragons if Hornet was not already familiar with his other common title. The Dragon of the West might be a known title among the spirits, if dragons were as highly revered by them as they were in the human world.

“I am unfamiliar with the title of General,” Hornet said taking another sip of her tea, “Would you be so kind as to inform me?”

“Oh,” he stifled his surprise. “Well, a General is a commanding officer of the army.” Iroh said with a frown, hoping he would not have to explain what an army was as well.

Hornet nodded, “I suppose the closest comparison would be to the Great Knights of Hallownest. The Five served directly under the Old King.”

“Served?” Iroh frowned at the tense and the terms. He had never heard of a knight before. “Has the king disbanded his Great Knights?”

Hornet stiffened. “Hallownest is a fallen kingdom. But do not let that deceive you into believing that the people are defenseless. The corpse of the kingdom will remain protected so long as there is a single being left to raise a nail or claw in its defense.” If her face was more human, he assumed her glare would be intensifying beyond the regular shape of her mask, but even so every inch of her body language radiated protective fury.

“We wouldn’t dream of hurting your homeland,” Iroh said peacefully, mentally shelving his question about its location and rearranging his thought to come up with a distraction. “You mentioned that names were sacred to your people. Is there something else I should be calling you, a title or epithet, Hornet of Deepnest?”

Hornet placed cup on the table, her hands clasping in front of her as she leaned forward. “The Children of the Webs are not named upon hatching. Instead, our names are gifted to us by our mentors once our personalities start to shine through. I earned my name. But if you insist, my most common epithet is Protector.”

Iroh blinked at the terms she was using. Perhaps Hornet was some kind of spirit spider-fly. He focused back on the conversation and glanced again at where her weapon glinted innocently, ready at her side. “A fitting epithet, I should think.”

Hornet let out a deep breath. “Yes. I earned it as well.” Silence reigned for a moment as they both sipped from their cups.

It was a strange weapon Hornet carried, made from a strange material. Iroh wondered if even Piandao was familiar with its like. He had wanted to broach the subject of spirits, but perhaps it would be better to segue into it.

“I have never seen a weapon such as yours before in all my years with the military,” he said, pushing as much curiosity into the unspoken question as possible.

“And you likely never will again. The needle is the traditional weapon of Deepnest,” Hornet said with a nod of her head before looking at him over the rim of her cup.

“When I saw your sibling before they had a similar weapon. Was that a needle as well?”

“No. My siblings are not of Deepnest. Little Ghost uses a nail and our other sibling uses a greatnail.”

That was … something.  Iroh hadn’t been aware that there were societies in the Spirit World with the distinctions of having developed unique weapons. At least two different places if Hornet’s siblings were not from the same place she was. Perhaps they were siblings of choice rather than by blood. It would also make more sense, given how much more of a spiritual presence her other sibling had given off in his brief encounters with them.

“I have rarely seen spirits carry weapons in the first place. Seeing your sibling with one was quite a shock.”

Hornet lifted her head, a slight tilt, perhaps confusion. “You are mistaken, General Iroh. Although my siblings are not alive like you and I, they are by no means a spirit.”

Iroh blinked. “You didn’t travel here from the Spirit World?” That … couldn’t be right. Hornet clearly wasn’t human and that left no other options that he could conceive of.

“I came here from Hallownest,” She answered unhelpfully.

Iroh shook his head. “But Hallownest is located in the Spirit World?”

“The kingdom is almost entirely underground. Before last month I had never left the kingdom’s outer boundaries. All who leave the kingdom’s protections forfeit their mind and higher thought. I did not leave of my own volition, but rather was cast out by a surge of magic from the kingdom’s failing Seals.”

Iroh wasn’t quite sure what to say about that. He might be uniquely qualified as one of the only living people to have been in the Spirit World but while the geography there was … questionable at best he had never heard of an underground kingdom. But a place that took away a person’s mind? That description niggled a memory of something, one that he could not place.

Hornet placed her cup down with enough force to drag him out of his thoughts. “I have revealed much about my people and you have yet to return the favor. Tell me, General Iroh, will you be willing to answer my queries?”

“Of course!” Iroh said, trying to inject as much friendliness and warmth into the statement while burying his own curiosity. Trust was a two-way street; he must be as willing to give as he is to take. “By all means, ask away.”

“Where are the other sapient species?” Hornet said, crossing her arms over her cloak, head tilted. “I have seen plenty of your kind and yet no others that exhibit higher thought.”

“There are no others,” Iroh said, reigning in his thoughts, “Just humans.”

Hornet tilted her head. “Did the humans kill off the others?”

A chill went down his spine at the casual tone Hornet used. “Not that I am aware of. There have only been humans for thousands of years. Long ago, spirits roamed the world freely before the worlds were split.”

Hornet turned to him sharply. “Your people can see spirits unaided?”

“Not often,” Iroh said, “Spirits are usually powerful beings that do not concern themselves with the physical world unless something is done that upsets them.” He’s getting better at reading Hornet’s body language, slowly mapping out emotions that are otherwise imperceivable through her mask. He would be willing to bet that she was currently glaring at him. Or it could still just be the mask.

“The beings you refer to as spirits are not the remains of the departed.”

“Ah, no.” Iroh leaned back.

“Those beings are gods. Powerful higher beings that care not for the mortal lives they destroy in their wake.” The vehemence in Hornet’s voice caused Iroh to frown. He had never heard of spirits referred to as gods before, but the tone of Hornet’s voice made it almost sound personal.

“If you say so. It sounds like you have had your fair share of encounters with these beings,” Iroh prompted, unsure if he would get a response. Hornet turned away from him, hand curling around her shoulder.

“I have,” she stated simply, and for a single moment Iroh though he saw a glimmer of near transparent lines drawn out around her head.

If any of the crew were to ask, Zuko was not lurking outside of the mess hall. He was just waiting for Uncle to return from his tea break.

He didn’t eat in the mess often. He usually preferred to eat away from the crew if he could avoid them. He had an image of power and control to uphold, and Zuko knew that being the youngest on a ship full of experienced navy men did not help with that image.

Not that Uncle ever seemed to mind being with the men. But that did not matter at the moment. All that mattered currently was that his Uncle had whisked away their newest crewmember and had sequestered themselves away for quite some time now.

Zuko tried to not fidget when some of the men slipped through the doorway past him out of the mess, their voices stopping for a moment when they saw him. He had every right to be standing here, in front of the mess hall. He was their prince.

A new set of footsteps echoed down the corridor and Zuko perked up before registering that it was only a single person. A moment later, Lieutenant Jee turned the corner, stopping when he saw him.

“Prince Zuko,” the older man said.

“Lieutenant Jee,” Zuko returned.

Zuko felt that he and the Lieutenant had come to an understanding of sorts after saving the helmsman during the storm. He couldn’t go as far as to say that the man was showing him more respect, but something in their dynamic had shifted imperceivably. It was … a nice change.

When Zuko had left for this mission, Uncle had stepped in and chosen his crew for him, something that Zuko had been grateful for at the time. Men Uncle trusted had to be good for something. But as time had stretched on, he had come to learn that just because Uncle trusted them did not mean that they liked or trusted him. And Zuko couldn’t afford to think about or deal with mutiny, how could he ever regain his honor if his crew – well.

Some things weren’t worth dwelling on.

Zuko cleared his throat.

Jee leveled a steady look at him for a moment before speaking. “The remainder of the crew has been informed of our … newest member. However, there is a slight issue.”

“What is it?”

“Our female bunks were converted to storage two and a half years ago.”

Zuko blinked. While it was common enough to have several female crewmembers on a regular navy ship, his crew consisted of all men. Until now. Zuko vaguely recalled agreeing to turn the smaller bunkroom to storage two and a half years ago with the bitter feeling of knowing that his crew would never grow beyond the bare minimum required to run his ship. Each man having basically accepted a long-term mission, with the only difference being that they could return home if they so desired. Zuko did not have that luxury.

But Hornet couldn’t be much older than Zuko. No girl or young woman would want to bunk up with a bunch of grown men. It wouldn’t be right or fair to her.

“What about the officer quarters?” Zuko says, knowing fully well that there are no more officer quarters unless he wants to give up his own or would kick out Uncle or Jee from their own rooms.

Jee frowned. “We could try clearing up a section of the female bunks–” he trailed off.

“There is no need.” A sharp voice interjects and both Zuko and Jee jumped at the strange tapping sounds that preluded their newest crewmember’s approach. In Hornet’s wake came Uncle, arms crossed in his sleeves, expression thoughtful.

“Pardon?” the Lieutenant prompted.

“I have already repositioned a suitable room to sleep in.”

“Where?” Zuko asked in confusion. There were no more available rooms.  

“One of the small rooms filled with low-quality linens.”

Zuko tried to process that Hornet had perhaps claimed a closet as a living space. They were on a warship. Did she really expect our linens to be the same quality you would find in the capital?

“Well, if that is settled, perhaps we can eat now,” Iroh said serenely, gesturing towards the mess. When there were no protests, he led the way in.

The mess was mostly empty by this point. Not that it was ever truly full, their crew was not big enough to fill out the entire space. Currently, there were six crewmembers sitting around one table, their conversation falling silent as they turned to the newcomers. Zuko noted the way the crewmember’s eyes sought out Hornet, the nightshift helmsman nudging the infantry soldier next to him who kicked the engineer under the table who then turned around to stare. To her credit, Hornet did not hesitate when their gazes fell upon her.

Uncle eagerly led the way towards the serving line and Zuko took the opportunity to fall behind Hornet. Her weapon was slung up behind her back, a strange mix between a spear, sword, and maybe a harpoon, made out of a metal he didn’t recognize. Her mask was more of a helmet, wrapping around the entirety of her head. Zuko was curious to see what her face looked like, but he could be patient. He would find out soon anyways when they sat down to eat.

He absently rubbed the skin around his good eye, warding off the headache he could feel trying to form.

“Good evening Mak,” Uncle’s voice boomed out to the head chef as they approached. “What culinary delights do you have for us today?”

“Nothing fancy today, sir,” Mak said, stirring his pot before pulling a stack of bowls towards himself. “Seafood stew with a side of rice.”

Uncle accepted an offered tray with a slight nod. “Thank you, Mak. I always appreciate what you provide.”

The entire interaction rubed Zuko in the wrong way, as if they’re putting on a show for their new guest.  He rarely eats in the mess, and usually Uncle eats with him. Zuko wonders if Hornet is picking up the stilted conversation, or the eyes of the remaining crewmembers watching them.

Probably. She’s been stowed away for long enough; she probably had seen dozens of crew interactions that he is rarely privy to. Zuko collects his food tray with a mumbled “Thank you,” and glances back to watch Hornet take hers.

“Hello, Miss,” Mak said, “I didn’t get to meet you earlier when you came through here for the tour. I’m the head cook, Mak.” His smile was wide as he held out a tray for her. Hornet eyed it for a moment before reaching out to grab it.

“Hello Head Cook. I am Hornet. It is an honor to meet you,” she said with a slight nod, shifting slightly under the cook’s gaze. Zuko glanced away sharply, hoping that she didn’t catch the way he was staring as Mak responded.

“If you’re ever looking to get something to eat outside of mealtimes, don’t hesitate to drop by the galley. Myself or one of my assistants will be more than happy to get you something to hold you over.”

“I appreciate the kind offer Head Cook.”

Zuko tried not to feel too affronted. Mak had never once invited him or any other crewmember that he was aware of to get food outside of mealtimes. In fact, the only person he was aware of Mak offering extra food to was Uncle when he asked nicely.

He started drifting away, keeping one ear on Hornet and Mak’s farewells, in which Hornet actually said farewell, and headed towards the closest table at which Uncle and Lieutenant Jee had already settled in at. With the two older men already sitting across from each other Zuko slid in next to Uncle only to glance up as Hornet’s tray preceded her sitting down on the opposite side of the table from him.

She hadn’t taken off her mask yet. Zuko glanced over at Uncle, who was focused on the food but the Lieutenant was sneaking a glance sideways at the girl next to him. Hornet stared down at her own tray. Her hand snuck out from under her cloak and Zuko realized that she hadn’t taken off any of her armor either, the dark material that made up her gauntlets was odd, almost insect-like.

Zuko winced from the twinges of headache that was making itself known with a new vengeance and looked back up to where Hornet was awkwardly gripping her spoon, a small chunk of fish balanced on it before she leaned forward slightly and – the spoon disappeared under her mask.

He buried his disappointment of not getting to see Hornet’s real face. Zuko was curious, of course, but he’d done some research on other cultures in preparation for capturing the Avatar. Keeping a mask on in front of strangers would be by no means the strangest thing he had yet learned about outside cultures.

The Earth King’s pet bear was still at the top of that list.

On the other hand, there was no way that she could be a spy. Drawing this much attention to herself with her strange behaviors would be counterpoint to the whole operation. It eased something in his chest to realize that.

The others started to eat. Zuko picked at his rice before bringing a mouthful up.

“Why do you chase the Avatar?”

Zuko choked, Uncle thumping his back firmly to dislodge the rice stuck in this throat. He stared disbelievingly at Hornet, spluttering before he regained his composure. He had a feeling that Hornet was glaring at him from behind her mask as she flicked a grain of rice from her cloak.

“It’s my duty to capture the Avatar,” Zuko wheezes out, clearing his throat.

“Your duty,” she said in an odd tone, head tilting slightly in a way that made Zuko thing she was glancing at Uncle to gauge his reaction. Zuko tramped down on the urge to do the same.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Yes. My duty.”

“What makes the Avatar so important? Who are they?”

Zuko distantly noted that the entire mess hall had gone completely silent, the crewmembers shamelessly eavesdropping, and he could even see Mak staring at them, the washcloth and bowl in his hand forgotten. “How do you not know who the Avatar is?” Zuko glanced at Lieutenant Jee’s incredulous face before looking at Uncle’s serene expression.

“I would not be asking if I did,” she said, her finger tapping impatiently against the table, a sharp, almost disturbing sound.

Zuko gathered his thoughts. “The Avatar is the master of all four elements. He’s a powerful bender.”

“And yet you would pursue such dangerous prey?” Hornet’s head tilts ever so slightly. “Why risk entanglement with a powerful enemy?”

“He is the enemy of the Fire Nation.” At that Hornet sat up quickly.

“Is my sibling in danger?” Hornet asked, an edge to her voice as her hand crept in an instinctual looking manor towards her weapon.

“I highly doubt it, miss Hornet,” Uncle said, placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder before he could respond. “The young Avatar has shown time and again that he is willing to go out of his way to protect his friends.”

Do you think we could have been friends too? Echoed traitorously through Zuko’s head. He shoved the thought to the side, along with any memories of waking up in pain but out of danger.

“Then what has he done to become an enemy of your people?”

“He would oppose us, and our effort to spread our prosperity to the other nations,” Zuko said in an even monotone, ignoring any tension in the hall.

Hornet turned towards Uncle. “And by prosperity you mean…” She prompted.

Uncle cleared his throat. “A hundred years ago the Fire Nation entered a period of peace and wealth. Fire Lord Sozin decided to bring our prosperity to the other nations.”

“By what means?” Hornet asked, a new, somehow even harsher edge to her voice echoed by the sharp clicks behind her words. Zuko felt it was almost a warning, the sharp threads of Hornet’s wire traps lingering in the air around him, un-tripped and waiting to activate.

Lieutenant Jee picked up where Uncle left off. “The other nations were resistant to accepting our assistance. Our great empire has been forced to fight to spread our influence to the other nations.”

“You are from a kingdom of colonizers.” Hornet didn’t outwardly show her distain, but the accusation was clear enough in her tone.

Zuko shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny before she shifted her head towards Uncle and Lieutenant Jee.

“For a hundred years your people have been ‘spreading their influence’ to the other kingdoms of the surface?” Hornet asked but gave them no opportunity to respond before barreling on. “Has it been an active war the entire time?”

Jee nodded his head from side to side. “More or less. Fire Lord Sozin was able to take out most of the Air Nomad’s defenses early on and the Southern Water Tribe no longer has much of a resistance now that they have no more benders. The Northern Water Tribe and several of the larger Earth Kingdom cities are the last major holdouts.”

Hornet’s hidden gaze was focused on the older man. “Do you hear what you say?”

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked as her mask snapped back to him.

“Did it ever occur to Fire Lord Sozin, or any of the other Lords that there are more efficient means to influence other cultures?” She hissed out. “No trade agreements?  No treaties? No research exchanges?”

“Wha –” Zuko sputtered but Hornet spoke over him.

“Did your uncle not mention you had a sister? Could your father not have offered either of you in a union to the other kingdoms to spread his influence without bloodshed? Or the previous Fire Lord offer your uncle or your father in the same manner?”

Heat simmered under the surface of Zuko’s skin. The fighting is necessary, a tutor from his childhood’s voice echoed in his head, the other nations need to be brought to see reason, they need the Fire Nations’ guiding hand.

A prince’s duty is to his people, to protect his people, his cousin had said to him the last time he had seen Lu Ten. Don’t worry Zuko. Father and I will help win this war to stop the bloodshed.

Zuko shook his head. “My father would never use his children as bargaining pieces in the war!”

“Then your father has failed to use the resources at his disposal,” Hornet stated, the words as sharp as her wire.

“I am not a resource!” Zuko slammed his fist on the table, making the trays rattle as his anger rose.

“Are you not, princeling?” Princeling? Zuko reeled back as she pressed on.

“A royal’s life does not belong to them, but rather to their people. Your duties come before your desires. You said yourself that capturing the Avatar was your duty. A task no doubt given to you by your father.”

“Tha –”

“A rather poorly thought-out task as well. You are a child, are you not? Why send one of his heirs out on a dangerous mission when you could be better served staying back at your palace honing your skills. Unless your entire kingdom lacks in diplomacy tutors, or even diplomats in general, which is starting to seem more likely.”

“I’m not a child!” Zuko growls out, which was not what he meant to say, but was the only angry thought he was able to hold onto long enough to coherently get out.

“You certainly seem like one to me. What kind of father sends their young child into danger purposefully?” Hornet’s tone shifted, the sharpness dissipating into something heavier but no less dangerous, “What kind of leader sacrifices their heir? Those are not the actions of a good ruler.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath from around the mess hall. There’s a pounding in Zuko’s chest that had been building with every word Hornet spoke, mirrored by a pounding in his head as he tried to hold her gaze. Zuko ignored the wetness around his eyes managed to spit out, “That disrespect is treasonous. No citizen can speak of our Fire Lord that way.”

“I am not a citizen of your kingdom,” Hornet said evenly.

“But you are now a member of our crew,” Lieutenant Jee said, letting his hand fall loudly to the table and drawing everyone’s attention. “And as a member of our crew you are held to the same standards that every member of the Fire Nation Navy is.”

Hornet stilled for a moment. The faint buzz of anger quieted in Zuko’s ears even if his headache got worse the longer he stared at her.

“Apologies, your highnesses, Lieutenant. It seems I have forgotten my own position on this ship while trying to understand our culture’s differences. If you will excuse me,” she said, pushing away from the table and slipping out of the mess hall before anyone could stop her.

Zuko wanted to chase after her, to challenge her, to burn off his steam and anger, but instead Uncle’s cool hand landed on his shoulder and he seethed quietly in place.

“She didn’t eat her rice,” Uncle eventually said, a small frown on his face as he stared at the tray Hornet left behind; a bowl of untouched rice next to a cooling bowl of stew, only the chunks of fish missing.

Hornet fled the mess hall with as much grace as she could muster. As long as the day had been she had no desire to try and sleep yet, so instead of retreating to the repurposed linen closet she had claimed she headed the other direction, up to the deck.

It was second nature at this point to wait for the corridors to clear, keeping track of the vibrations relaying to her from the network of Soul-silk she had set up around the ship.

Emerging into the damp and salty air was surprisingly pleasant on her exoskeleton, and she took a moment to drink in the last rays of setting sun before gripping her needle. One well placed throw later and she zipped up the tallest structure on the ship.

The command tower as Lieutenant Jee had named boasted an unimpeded view, and Hornet took a moment to observe the way the fading light reflected off the breaking waves surrounding the ship, glittering in deep purples and blues and greens that reminded her of the jewel tones of healthy beetle shells.

With an odd ache in her thorax, Hornet eased herself into a sitting position atop the tower, pulling her needle into her lap and methodically started cleaning it. Pale ore made weapons could withstand many things, but negligence was not one of them. If she did not take the time to properly care for her weapon the intent and magic Sealed into it would deteriorate and Hornet would never allow her people’s final gift to fade.

How different, and yet how horribly similar the surface creatures were to the bugs she was used to.

The strange smells that permeated the air, mostly smoke but also something earthy and rusty. The salted stench of the ocean and the strange pheromones the humans, as they were apparently called, put off. So unalike any bug she was having difficulty mapping their emotions to their scents and was instead forced to observe their nuanced facial movements and gestures.

Hornet let out a huff of air. This ship was where she needed to be. She could feel it, how it pulled her closer to her lost siblings, carrying her towards wherever they had managed to get themselves lost at. And yet, how very tenuous her own circumstances were. So far from home in a place that had never even heard of her kingdoms and her rule and yet she still was trying to enforce her own ideals upon others.

The actions of the Fire Lords as described to her were still inexcusable. Her carapace crawled with disgust. Her own sire had disappeared, taking any chance of her being able to exact any form of revenge or comeuppance against him for his actions against her family but… No. She was a Queen and a Lord now and had responsibilities of her own that had nothing to do with the wars of the surface world. Her concern should be elsewhere.

Like this ship. She would need to make up for her misstep with insulting these people’s leader, no matter how deserving it was.

Perhaps she should have tried to stay hidden for longer, instead of revealing herself to the crew. Surely, she could have survived without being caught for a while yet. She certainly could have been better off if she had avoided eating their food; the unpleasant spices were still lingering in her mouth and she had no more desire to eat an unknown grain now than as a child sitting in the Pale Court. Although the tea had been nice. It vaguely reminded her of the types of tea her stepmother used to serve her.

Hornet paused in her ministrations to her needle to watch as the setting sun slipped below the far-off horizon, lighting the world in muted tones. Her hand drifted to her left shoulder, rubbing at the mark for a moment before two, buzzing cold responses tapped back.

If there was one thing Ghost had taught her was the merit of making allies. In the morning she would have to try harder.

Ghost was an odd mood. They had been excited to visit the Fortuneteller, but the entire time the group had been in that village their friends had been acting weird. Katara seemed to be obsessed with learning her future and Aang was attempting to bring his to fruition. Sokka had been busy trying to disprove all of the fortunes, and mostly failing, to his own frustration.  

Ghost already knew that the future was predictable. The Pale King could see the future after all, for all the good it did him.

Ghost had hoped that Aunt Wu was like Seer. They missed the old moth something terrible and could only hope that she had found her peace. They had been excited to meet the future-telling human, to see if she was anything like their dearly departed friend.

When Aunt Wu had seen them, she had kneeled down to them and said softy, “I’m sorry my dear. Your future is in too much flux to read; you are redefining it just by existing.” When they tried showing her their drawing of their siblings Aunt Wu apologized again. “I still cannot find them in your future. Like the substance you are made of it is too fluid to truly grasp.”

Ghost hadn’t been much help when preparing for the volcano’s eruption either. They couldn’t move the earth like a bender could, they were too small to use the shovels. Their actions did not feel like enough.

It was frustrating to be so useless. Perhaps the Lord of Shades could have done something about it, but Ghost feared their other form might only make things worse. Better to refrain from drawing on that power. After all, the last time they tried to do something with their god abilities they had accidentally transported themself and their siblings away from Hallownest.

It was all moot now. Aang had ended up being enough to protect the village from the worst of the lava flow, and their group had moved on.

Ghost wandered back into their camp, arms full of filled waterskins which they set down gently next to the log Katara was sitting on, tending to the fire while the boys appeared to be arguing about whether to set up a tent tonight.

“Thanks Ghost,” Katara said, leaning back and smiling at them. Ghost nodded, watching as Katara turned back to frown at their other companions. “Do you think I’ll be able to convince them to help with dinner tonight?” She asked idly.

Ghost shook their head and kneeled next to her on the log.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she said with a sigh before rummaging through her pack, for cooking utensils presumably.

There was something about her tonight that was drawing Ghost’s attention, a spark of something they couldn’t quite put a finger on.

They kept watching her. She eventually turned back and smiled at them again, but Ghost’s vision narrowed down to her throat. They reached out, startling Katara as they touched the spark of Soul in the woven necklace.

“Do you like it?” She asked, recovering to having Ghost invade her personal space. “Aang made it for me.”

The smidgen of Soul in it called out, and Ghost realized why the necklace stood out so much. It felt almost like the ringing of a charm. No, it was exactly like a charm, or perhaps it simply had the potential to become a fully fledged charm.

Salubra had promised Ghost that one day she would teach them the art of charm-making, and they had been taking her up on that promise, spending a little time in her hut in the Crossroads every once in a while, when they had the time. But Ghost could already tell with the amount of Soul poured into the woven flower it was already almost there. It just needed a little nudge.

There was plenty of intent in the necklace, a well-meaning gift from one friend to another. And it was a flower, and whether or not Ghost appeared to be so, they were still part Root.

“Ghost?” Katara asked with an edge of concern to her voice as they reached their other hand forward and placed it on the edge of the proto-charm. They ignored her and started to focus on the Soul already inside of it, pulling at the intent and augmenting it with their own gathered Soul. The necklace buzzed with energy, and with a flash of light mirrored by a shriek, the charm was born.

“Katara! Are you alright?” Sokka cried out, dropping his tentpole as he raced over, Aang quickly out speeding him.

“What happened?” the younger vessel asked, helping Katara sit back up and glanced between her and Ghost.

Katara shook her head, a little dazed. “I’m not sure,” she said, hand moving up to her throat.

Ghost hopped back up onto her knee and gently knocked her hand out of the way.

“Whoa,” they could faintly hear Sokka say, “your necklace is glowing!”

“It feels warm” Katara said with a frown. Ghost ignored both of them, concentrating on the buzzing the charm let off into their Void. It sang like a protection charm, like the Baldur Shell or the Dream Shield, and strongly too. This wasn’t a poorly made fragile charm. Each petal glowed with an inner light, and Ghost felt an inkling of what the charm actually did.

They grabbed the pantlegs of the other two humans and started tugging them away.

“What’s up, Ghost?” Aang asked with a frown. “Do you know what is going on?”

Ghost nodded, leading them a few more steps away before turning back around to face Katara. They stooped and picked up a rock and before anyone could stop them, they threw it at Katara with all their might.

Aang made a startled noise but before he could do anything a flash of light met the rock, an afterimage of a budding flower dissipated into the air around a very confused Katara. Ghost wondered if the ethereal bud had a similar effect as the Thorns of Agony did. They resolved to not test that unless absolutely necessary.

“What in the spirits name was that?” Sokka yelped, rubbing at his eyes before frowning at his sister. “Your necklace isn’t glowing anymore.”

Ghost crowded in with the others to stare at the charm. Sokka was right, the petals were black as Void, but slowly, as they watched the topmost petal started to let off a faint light, as if recharging.

 “Was that some type of spirit magic?” Katara asked, fingers brushing against the edge of the charm. She looked up at Aang, who in turn looked to Ghost. They waivered slightly before nodding. It was easier this way without a voice to explain anything.

“Wow! I didn’t know spirits could do magic like that!” Aang exclaimed leaning in closer to Katara, who was frowning at all the attention. Ghost tried to bury their irritation at being unable to communicate that it was Aang who had done most of the groundwork; they had only given the proto-charm the final push it needed to be fully realized.

“Ooh ooh! Do one for me next, Ghost!” Sokka said, jostling them, “But make it something manly! Like a knife!”

Ghost shook their head, then darted off as Sokka started to beg, giving chase. There was only so much they could do.

Chapter Text

One thing about her crewmates that had become quickly apparent to Hornet was that they had no comprehension of magic in any form. This was upsetting for many reasons, but mostly served to baffle her in how the humans ever got anything done.

The lack of even the most basic of Seals was frustrating to Hornet, and after exploring the entirety of the ship multiple times she saw no other solution than that the humans did not know how to perform magic outside of their elemental spells.

They did seem to fully exploit their abilities though, and Hornet had a sneaking suspicion that if her Sire was still alive, he would have been fascinated by the engines, despite the vast amounts of soot they created, staining the corridors with blackened dust.

Hornet despised how she could almost hear His voice, the whisper soft tone he used with mortals when she had examined the engines, and how he would putter about his workshop, trying to adapt them to be powered by the much cleaner Soul energy.

But since they didn’t use Soul, they got dirty. And there were no Seals to keep the ship clean.

Which meant that when Lieutenant Jee had found her that morning to give her the tasks he had assigned to her, he expected her to do it by hand.

Hornet shot a disgruntled look to the mop and bucket sitting at the end of the hall before moving back to her work, running another Soul infused silk line to the Seal. With a ship as large as this, manually cleaning would be cost-ineffective. Usually, a source for the Soul would be used to power a Seal of cleaning, something like the bright lumaflies or the infinite supply of a higher being.

She had considered using the large beasts kept below – Komodo-rhinos apparently – as Soul batteries, but discarded the idea after talking to the wrangler. He was too fond of the creatures, and Hornet worried the constant drain of Soul would strain them beyond what they could handle. She had no desire to use and discard life in that manner.

So instead, she was using her own reserves, making a temporary Seal that would serve to keep this corridor of the ship clean, likely cleaner than it had ever been.

Hornet threaded the last Soul infused line into the corridor wall before stepping back to view her handywork. By no means was it the prettiest she had ever made, but it should be good enough to get the job done. She tugged gently on the tangle of silk defining the end conditions of the Seal, ensuring that particular section was well made. There was no reason to tempt fate and allow a Seal to drain her of Soul completely, and poorly defined end conditions could cause a Seal to leach Soul even when inactive.

Satisfied, Hornet ran a claw to the center of the Seal and allowed her Soul to flow freely. The lines lit up with a gently glow for a moment before becoming blinding. Hornet turned away, sensing the Seal come into effect more by the tingle of released Soul and the metallic smell in the air than actually seeing it, and the glow faded before she could even hope to adjust to the intensity.

Peering down the corridor revealed a level of cleanliness that Hornet suspected the ship had not seen since it was first built. The soot that had been caked into the ceiling was gone, and the rust slowly growing between metal panels was scoured away, reveling the undersurface that glimmered in the nearby lantern’s light.

Hornet let out a sigh of satisfaction and crossed her arms. The Lieutenant had only told her to work on cleaning the corridor until mid-meal, and with this final corridor completed the entire lower deck was now cleaned spotless. That left plenty of time to start working on a more personal project.

It was time to put together a much more complicated Seal than a basic cleaning one. She was up for the challenge though.

Hornet deftly made her way towards one of the clothing cache closets she had discovered on the ship and poked around until she found a spare robe. With her prize in hand, she headed up to main deck. Pausing at the threshold of the stairways up, Hornet took in the sounds of combat before emerging to see the prince apparently sparing with two of the other flame-slingers, with General Iroh overseeing.

She paused for a moment to watch their forms. It was such an active form of spellcasting, the fluid movements drawing Soul out into flame as well as giving the caster the momentum to dodge an opponent’s attack. Such an active, combat-focused style reminded her painfully of her siblings, who only ever cast spells as a method to attack.

It would be interesting to spar with them, their movements beyond the coordination that many of her foes in Hallownest had been able to perform. Perhaps she could ask the princeling to spar later on, or failing that, goading him into attacking. He certainly had the right temperament for that.

Hornet roused herself from her reverie and made her way to what was rapidly becoming her favorite place on the entire ship. The top of the command tower provided the most unimpeded views of the ocean and was difficult for anyone without a needle to reach easily. Hornet supposed someone might be able to climb up here, but that effort would be noisy enough to catch her attention.

Settling down, she spread out her borrowed robe and prepared to get to work. Hornet ran a gentle claw over her cloak, allowing a trickle of Soul to light up the lines of Seals woven into it, carefully sorting through different protections and strengthenings until she found the lines she needed.

Fire tended to be uncommon in Hallownest, but not unheard of, and her mother left nothing to chance when it came to protecting her daughter.

The Seal of Flame Protection lit up in her mind, and Hornet immediately set herself to task replicating the glimmering lines into the borrowed robe. The Humans may not understand the true power of Soul-based magics, but Hornet would earn her keep and repay them for their help. It was frankly ridiculous they didn’t already have a way to flameproof items of importance. After all, once something was burned, it became infinitely harder to repair.

Something deep inside her told her this was important, and that voice in her head hadn’t lead her wrong yet.

Zuko was having a bit of problem, and that problem’s name was Hornet. Sure, she had only been a part of the crew for a few days but that was more than enough to make her changes to the ship evident.

The worst part was that in all honesty, Hornet was an excellent crewmember. Every morning, she would report without issues to Lieutenant Jee for her tasks and before noon the tasks would be complete and Hornet would have disappeared.

Zuko had even ducked down into the lower corridors to see for himself. He hadn’t even known that underneath all the soot and grime the rust-resistant paint was that color.

No, the biggest problem with Hornet being an official crewmember of the ship wasn’t her work ethic, but the fact that she disrupted all the other crewmember’s work ethic. Zuko had caught every single other crewmember, bar Lieutenant Jee and Uncle, clumped up in the corridors, huddled on deck, and gathering in the storage spaces to gossip endlessly about their newest member.

From what he could tell, assistant cook Ori was the go-to person for rumors and gossip and would whisper any news to the others during mealtimes, made all the more convenient that Hornet had not shown up to another meal since the first one she had attended with them. According to Mak and Ori she had only shown up twice, both times at odd hours of the evening to request some food. Ori had delighted in telling him that she only ever asked for meat or fish.

Zuko was stuck doing his best to discourage gossiping while simultaneously trying to absorb as much information that the crew had on Hornet.

The engineering crew swore that they never saw her touch a bucket or rag but the corridors would always be clean by the time they checked back up on her.

The quartermaster claimed that clothing was going missing from storage only to turn up a day later with no discernable changes.

The wrangler said he spent a good hour talking with her, going over the finer details of Komodo-rhinos husbandry before she darted away, leaving him wondering if the encounter was even real in the first place.

Zuko still had no clue where she was sleeping, despite spending a good amount of time looking through every storage closet on the ship.

Zuko did not feel as though any of his concerns were unwarranted. Uncle disagreed and was the reason why he was currently holed away in his uncle’s chambers, being forced to drink ‘calming’ tea. He should be out in the port they were currently docked at, hunting Avatar rumors.

Truly the only thing steeping was Zuko’s own thoughts as Uncle passed him his cup.

“See Prince Zuko,” Uncle said after sipping his own cup, “A moment of quiet is good for your mental well-being.”

Zuko tucked his frown away for the moment and carefully lifted his cup to his mouth, only to have the ship shudder with a great screech, spilling his tea all down the front of his shirt as he let out a shocked, choking noise.

Glancing up briefly to meet Uncle’s startled eyes, Zuko pushing himself to standing as the ship trembled once more, and the pair of them made for the door.

It almost felt like they had run aground, which should be impossible since they were still docked. Could they be under attack by Earth Kingdom rebels?

Zuko burst out onto deck in time to see several of his men darting for cover as a giant … thing busted over the side. The creature was unlike any that he had seen before, a little bit of a badge-mole, a little bit of a wolf-bat, and something else he didn’t recognize.

What he did recognize was that the creature had a rider, a dark-haired woman with a topknot and a whip, tugging on the reigns of her mount.

“Get back!” The woman shouted, edging her creature forward, “We’re after a stowaway!’

Zuko felt a wash of cold that quickly shifted to anger go over him and ignored the shifting around the deck from his men, the not-too-subtle glances they kept sharing.

“There are no stowaways on my ship,” he managed to growl out, which was technically true, but apparently not enough to have the rider stop her beast from vandalizing his ship; the moment the words left his mouth the creature’s jaws sank into the ship’s deck and it tore through the metal.

There were some yelps as the men made a hasty retreat when the chunk of deck went sailing over their heads, and Zuko let out a choked sound at the sight of his ship being ravaged. The creature stuck its head into the hole it had just created, and after a moment a figure pulled themselves out of it.

A man in filthy Earth Kingdom peasant attire darted away to everyone’s shock as the beast behind him roared and gave chase. A bright red, barbed tongue streaked out as fast as the rider’s whip and struck his exposed flesh. A moment later he collapsed on the deck in front of Zuko, unmoving.

The chase was over, just like that, and Zuko watched the twitching form before him.

“He’s paralyzed,” he said softly as the rider dismounted and smoothly picked up her prey.

“Only temporarily,” she said, hefting her victim into the air, “The toxins will wear off in about an hour, but by then he’ll be in jail and I’ll have my money.”

Undeterred as she turned away, Zuko took a step forward. “But how did you find him on my ship?”

“My shirshu can smell a rat a continent away,” the rider said, patting the side of her patiently waiting beast before mounting it again and directing it back over the side of the ship and off into the port town, much to the displeasure of the dockworkers from their shrieks.

Zuko could only stand there, blinking before a soft tapping sound drew him from his focus, startling him slightly though he tried not to show it.

He glanced back, to where Hornet had suddenly appeared in what had previously been empty deck (had she jumped from the command tower?) and stared as she quickly moved to the railing.

“A beast with such a keen sense of smell?” Hornet said softly, leaning out far enough to make Zuko worried that she would topple over the edge. “How useful.”

“Very interesting,” Uncle said, with an odd tone to his voice, and Zuko couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated when Hornet also tilted her head towards the older man as if to glare at him too.

Ghost felt that for the first time they were truly seeing the extent of Water Tribe culture. Sure, traveling with Sokka and Katara was revealing in some senses, but today was the first time they had gotten a full exposure, starting with a crash course on battle tactics from Sokka when they had come across the abandoned battleground. They spent the time watching as Sokka pieced together the movements of the long-gone combatants, pulling together evidence from burn marks and scattered weapons. They even got to marvel at the big boat, the ‘proper Water Tribe boat’ as Sokka had called it compared to the other boats they had seen, walking around the small deck, and pointing out the ropes and rudder that controlled it, before settling down for the evening and quietly retelling stories from his childhood while the others fell asleep.

But it was only once the big human that the siblings knew, Bato, had taken them back to the little abbey that they felt a jolt of familiarity.

Bato seemed nice but focused on the siblings. It made sense, they hadn’t seen each other in a long time, only taking a moment to stare at Ghost before shaking his head and muttering only Hakota’s kids before moving on.

The room that Bato had been given was filled with skins of creatures instead of chitinous shells, the walls laid with weapons made from their bones instead of claws. Ghost couldn’t help but be reminded of the last time they sat in council with the Mantis Lords, a silent participant as Hornet used her voice to negotiate a trade agreement.

Ghost wondered if Aang had to fight the elders of the Southern Water Tribe to prove himself worthy of being able to enter the village. While the others ate, they took the time to wander around the room and poke at the skins lining the place, feeling the textures of the fur before stopping to look at the wooden and bone spears hanging from the walls. So similar, yet so different from the bugs of Hallownest.

Their explorations were interrupted by the gentle sound of the door sliding open, and Ghost watched curiously as Aang slipped out of the room. Glancing back to the others, it looked like they were too engrossed in their conversation to notice, something about the sibling’s father.

Making a quick decision, Ghost darted silently for the door, slipping out into the abbey courtyard in time to see Aang slinking across the way and out the entrance towards the forest beyond. Ghost wondered where he was going. There was really only one way to find out.

Curiosity getting the better of them, they put on a burst of speed to follow their friend beyond the abbey walls.

The bar they found the bounty hunter in was not the worst one Zuko had ever been in trying to track down leads on the Avatar, but it was certainly not the nicest. He tried to take a deep breath to steady himself but ended up chocking on the taste of cheap alcohol and unwashed peasants. Perhaps Hornet had the right idea by refusing to remove her mask, it might help block the sour smells.

Not that he was happy that Hornet had joined them anyways, he would have preferred her to stay behind on the ship but she had insisted, saying that this was important princeling. Altogether it had made him quietly fume when Uncle and Lieutenant Jee had agreed to allow her to leave.

Zuko pushed his way through the bar’s patrons, eyes on the woman who had invaded his ship, currently arm-wrestling with someone.

“I need to talk with you,” he growled out, and the bounty hunter had the audacity to barely glance at him before returning her attention to her opponent.

“Well, if it isn’t my new friends, angry boy and uncle lazy,” she drawled and Zuko felt an objection building in his throat when a surprisingly gentle hand fell on his shoulder before firmly pushing him to the side.

“Peace,” Hornet whispered to him before leaning over the table, a dark-gloved hand resting lightly on the surface before saying “I didn’t expect to come across another of your kind in my lifetime, yet here you are. A God Tamer, with a living beast.”

It was only because Zuko was watching her that he noticed the woman’s eyes widen imperceptibly before she slammed her opponent’s fist to the table, standing up to the cheers of the bar’s patrons. “Drinks on me!” She shouts as coins rain down around them, a tint of something tainting her voice before she grabs Hornet’s exposed wrist and hissed, “Outside. Now.”

God Tamer? Zuko frowned. He hadn’t heard the term before but it obviously meant something to the bounty hunter if the way she was currently corralling Hornet out the door is to go by. It might mean something to Uncle too, by the tiny, intrigued sound he made as he followed behind.

The woman only released her hold on Hornet once they were outside next to the shirshu. The beast lifted its head and sniffed the air briefly before settling back down. The woman looked them all over once again before settling, focused on Hornet. “You’ve met another Tamer?” she finally asks.

“I would not have said anything to you unless I was sure. You bear the same markings,” Hornet said, gesturing to the snakelike tattoo on the bounty hunter’s shoulder. Zuko had seen quite a few tattoos in his time, but the bounty hunter’s tattoo didn’t look like anything out of the ordinary.

The woman shifted back, crossing her arms in a too casual manor. Her beast tensed next to her. “Where’s the other Tamer?”

Hornet seemed to consider the other woman for a moment before responding. “She is the current champion of the Colosseum at Kingdom’s Edge on the outskirts of Hallownest.”

Zuko perked up; Hornet rarely offered information on her home.

“Hallownest? Where’s –” the bounty hunter – or God Tamer perhaps –  began but Hornet interrupted her.

“This information is not free. You damaged the prince’s ship, and he requires repayment as well.” Hornet said, and Zuko almost startled when she gestured towards him.

The woman shot Zuko a completely uncalled for sour look. “What did you have in mind?” she asked before her focus drifted back to Hornet.

“Your beast can track scents, correct? It can help track someone down for us,” Hornet said, getting back on track for the original plan after hijacking it earlier.

“If you’ve got a scent sample to go off of,” the hunter-tamer said with a smirk.

Zuko eyed Hornet. “You do have something with your sibling’s scent, right?”

Hornet tilted her head. “Perhaps. My siblings barely give off any scent that I can detect, only the most basic of pheromones that living creatures give off.”

Was Hornet’s sense of smell that good? Zuko frowned at her as she pulled something out from under her cloak. She revealed an odd piece of metal, almost card-like with engravings and embellishments that came together to form a stylized wing on the side Zuko could see.

“I know Little Ghost has a tram pass like my own. They still bear the stench of their creation, of Soul and tempered ore.”

The woman shrugged, before taking the offered pass and holding it up to her beast. The shirshu sniffed at the pass for a moment before sniffing the air around it. After a moment of sniffing, the creature jumped up to full attention and started to paw at the ground. “Looks like he found something,” she said with a grin, “Climb on, we’ve got a lead to follow.”

Aang took his time wandering out of the abbey, head buzzing in an altogether unpleasant way. He wasn’t paying too much attention to where he was going, but it also wasn’t a surprise when Bato’s boat came into view. It only took a slight air-boosted jump, and he was perched on the prow, the chill from the sea imperceptible to how numb he already felt.

“I can’t believe they would leave me,” Aang mumbled. It was inconceivable. Katara and Sokka couldn’t leave him. They couldn’t! Because if they did then – no. They just couldn’t leave him.

He buried his head in his knees, hands massaging at his scalp trying to drive the prickly gross feeling away when the whinny of an ostrich-horse broke him out of his mind. Glancing up, he saw the rider approaching, dressed as an Earth Kingdom messenger. The ostrich-horse slowed to a stop and the messenger called out, “I’m looking for Bato of the Water Tribe!”

Aang blinked. “Uh, I know Bato,” he managed to get out.

“Make sure he gets this,” the rider stood up in his reigns and reached up, holding a sealed scroll to him. Aang barely managed to lean down to grab it before the messenger started to ride off, and Aang watched briefly as he road away before examining the scroll.

It was sealed only with a piece of twine, and after a brief moment of guilt Aang unraveled it. The scroll contained a detailed map of one of the Earth Kingdom’s waterways along with a note on the side.

Bato, we’ll stay at the rendezvous point for as long as possible. Catch up to us as quickly as you can!

“It’s the map to Sokka and Katara’s dad,” Aang said, staring at the stamped name below the message.

He should bring it to Bato right away. He should – but if he did Sokka and Katara would be able to find their father. And they would – could – leave him. And they can’t leave him because then he’d be – no.

Without even thinking about it the scroll crumpled between his hands and he started balling it up, intent to make it go away when something caught it and it was almost tugged out of his hands.

“Wha-?” Aang startled looking down at the crumpled parchment and beyond to the empty eyes staring at him from a blank mask, a tiny hand clinging to the scroll while the other held onto a tool that dug into the wood of the underside of the prow. “Ghost? What are you doing here? Let go!”

If anything, their grip tightened and they tugged even harder, forcing Aang to brace himself. They were at a standstill for a moment before a ripping sound filled the air and Aang went tumbling at the release of tension, falling back onto the deck of the boat.

Shaking his head, Aang sat up and stared at the torn paper in his hands. A jagged line ran through the message from chief Hakoda.

Aang jumped up and moved to the side of the boat, looking down to where Ghost stood staring up at him, the other half of the message clutched in tiny hands. As if staring directly into his soul, Ghost’s inky void eyes stared straight at him as they lifted the torn message to their head and stuck it inside the eye socket.

“What are you doing?” Aang cried in alarm as he vaulted the side of the boat, landing next to the wayward spirit. “Give that back!”

Ghost simply removed their hand from their eye socket, empty, and stared up at him. They were at a standstill for a moment when Ghost made a swipe for the half of the message Aang was still clinging to. In response he immediately lifted it above his head.

“No!” Aang shouted as Ghost crouched momentarily before launching themself up, forcing him to crouch away from their tiny, grabbing hands. A short-lived scuffle ensued, as Ghost used their size and agility to press their advantage and an aching part of Aang was reminded of playing with lemurs as a child, trying to keep a piece of fruit away from greedy mouths.

Desperate for space, Aang resorted to letting loose a jet of air that caught Ghost mid-jump. The stream of air caused their cloak to flare up, tattered edges revealing the dark material that covered their body. Aang caught a glimpse of something glowing white on their shoulder before shining wings sprang from their back, flashing bright for a moment before righting them to land on the ground with a soft plop, head tilted, considering.

“This is important Ghost; you can’t just steal it!” Aang called out, “Do you even know what it is?”

Surprisingly, Ghost nodded and pointed back towards the forest, towards the abbey. Aang swallowed and uncomfortable lump that lodged itself in his throat. “I can’t – I don’t want to give it to them,” he whispered, slumping down to his knees.

Never one to show any care for personal space, Ghost closed in and placed a tiny hand on Aang’s thigh, tilting their head as they stared up at him. Aang could only try and avoid looking directly into their empty gaze.

Aang took a shuddering breath, struggling to speak, “If – if Sokka and Katara get this map, they’ll – they can – I’ll be –”

Ghost pushed their face closer and Aang rubbed at his eyes, trying to fight back tears. “They’re – you’re my family. If you leave, I’ll be all alone. Everyone I knew, the airbenders, my friends, they’re all gone except me.”

The words were rushing out now, as if he didn’t let them out this moment, he would explode.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore. Everyone I new left me because I left them. If I didn’t run away maybe things would have been different, but I did, and they’re gone. You’re all I have left now, but Sokka and Katara and you have people to go back to.”

Aang finally looked Ghost in their eyes. “Once we find your family, you’re going to leave with them, right?” Their head waivered for a moment before nodding. “You’d be willing to leave, just like that?”

Aang watched their tiny hands clench and unclench and for a moment and felt a brief pang for how awful it would be to be unable to express the complex thoughts that were clearly running though their head.

“I’m sorry,” he said miserably, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just you have someone, somewhere else to turn, and I – I envy that.”

Ghost shifted, sitting down next to him, and resting the cool surface of their mask against his arm. Together, they took in the gentle surf of the lazy sea lapping at the edge of Bato’s boat.

“Have – have you ever been left behind?” Aang wanted to take the words back the second they escaped his mouth. But to his surprise, Ghost nodded and turned to look back at him.

Aang bit his lip, building up his courage. “And you were able to move on?”

Another nod.

“How?”

Ghost stood up, taking a few steps away from him before drawing their weapon, swinging it a few times at the ocean before wheeling around to face him again, weapon pointed defiantly down and away from them, leaving themself open as if challenging him. Aang couldn’t help his rueful smile. “I’m sorry Ghost. I don’t understand.”

Ghost didn’t look too bothered, shrugging, and sheaving their weapon on their back before jumping back to Aang’s lap. Aang looked down at them. “You miss your family, huh. It wouldn’t be fair if I kept you from them, right?” they nodded.

“So it wouldn’t be fair if I kept Katara and Sokka away from their family either?”

They patted his shoulder twice, consoling him, before quickly snagging the other half of the map from his lax fingers, the message completely forgotten in his wallowing.

“Hey!” Aang said indignantly as Ghost curled their tiny hand around two of his fingers and started tugging. He swallowed hard, and let the spirit-child pull him along, back towards the abbey. Whatever was going to happen would happen. Sokka and Katara deserved the chance to chose if they wanted to leave and go back to their family. Aang felt terrible for even considering keeping them apart, but he would feel terrible too when he would have to find a way forward on his own if they left him. But, if a tiny spirit could do it, so could he.

“What exactly is a God Tamer?” Zuko’s voice carried back to where Iroh was perched on the back of June’s shirshu from the force of the wind.

“They are an ancient group of individuals with a highly specialized skill-set,” Hornet answered, tilting her head back to look at his nephew from just behind June. “Although the beasts they tame are not actual gods.”

“Not anymore, at least,” June added from the front. “Legend says that the first God Tamer was able to bring a Wyrm to heel.”

Iroh frowned. Wyrm was an ancient name sometimes used for dragons. But he had never heard the term God Tamer used for any of the historical dragon riders – Avatar Roku certainly was never given the term.

Besides, dragons chose if they would allow someone to ride them, they would rather die than be taken by force.

Hornet tutted, “It must have been unascended.”

“Whatever,” June said, “Tell me more about the other Tamer.”

The shirshu’s loping gait carried them for a way before Hornet spoke again, voice holding a hint of reminiscence.

“She ascended to the position of Champion of the Colosseum when I was a child, overtaking the old champion. As part of a treaty, I was sent to train under the Hive, and myself and some of the other hivelings would sneak out of our dorms at night to attend fights. She was quite the formidable fighter, before the infection took over. Even more so, to have survived and even thrived during the peak of the infection.”

“Infection?” Zuko interrupted, shifting in the saddle slightly, “What infection?”

“The infection that ravaged my people and left the once proud kingdoms in dispersed communities.”

June glanced over her shoulder. “But where is your kingdom located? How do I get there?”

“I am unsure. I left the kingdom under unusual circumstances. Only once I collect my siblings will I be attempting to return. They have been abandoned and forgotten too many times for me to add to their suffering unnecessarily.”

Iroh focused on her words. “So, after finding your siblings, you will begin to search for your way home?” He asked.

“Yes,” she replied curtly.

“But for now, you can’t direct me towards it.” June stated more than asked, with an unhappy note tainting her words.

“How do you lose a whole kingdom?” Zuko asked incredulously.

Hornet’s head jerked quickly, sending the horn of her mask into the top of his nephew’s head, making him let out a yelp. “You fail to stop your sibling from playing with powers beyond mortal ken.”

They fell into silence as the shirshu continued on, determination in the way it scampered, first through forest and then unerringly onto a road taking them inland. Just when Iroh was feeling his age from sitting the same position on a saddle for hours the pace slowed, trotting off the road before stopping and sniffing.

There was a strange noise, almost a chittering sound before the shirshu bounded forward and pounced, large front claws digging into the loose soil.

“What is it doing?” Zuko called out as June pulled on her reigns lightly.

“The scent must be coming from underground,” June said and Iroh had a moment to wonder if they were about to dig up a corpse when someone screamed.

The shirshu snarled in victory as the ground beneath it started to move. Iroh leaned forward, trying to see what was emerging when the ground burst open. The shirshu’s barbed tongue lashed out at the large figure, who let out a feminine yelp.

Against expectations, the figure did not go down, instead they landed lightly and hefted their massive club.

“Sneaking up on a sleeping victim is uncalled for!” The figure looked ready to pounce, and Iroh was intrigued to see an apparent earthbender who also fought with a weapon.

There was a flutter of red fabric and suddenly Hornet was standing between them, her needle held extended and ready in her right hand, her left held back in a clear gesture to stop. “Reign in your beast,” she called out, “there’s no need to do battle. I’ve seen this one before.”

“Easy, Nyla!” June called, patting the shirshu on the side while Zuko dismounted, a frown on his face.

“This is your sibling? Where’s the Avatar?”

Hornet’s head shook once, a flash of white string like material floating around her momentarily. “You are not the one I was looking for. But that does not mean you cannot answer my questions,” she said, slowly lowering her weapon. “You are the warrior cicada-nymph that recently left Hallownest.”

The figure gulped, and said shakily, “Y-yes. That’s me. My name is cloth.”

Iroh took the moment to take Cloth in, sliding off the shirshu. She was an imposing figure, with her club and large stature, and it contrasted with her softer, melodic voice, perhaps a young woman, if not for the way her image almost seemed to waiver in the way Iroh was beginning to associate with Hornet and her siblings. She appeared to be wearing a sack with eyeholes cut into it over her face, and a decorated piece of cloth covering her chest, with some type of armor over the rest of her body. No wonder the shirshu’s toxins hadn’t affected her, it hadn’t pierced her armor.

“Oh wyrm, you’re one of those spiders from the Deep,” she said, twitching away, cowering. “Please don’t eat me!”

Iroh ignored Zuko’s horrified face for the amusement on June’s. Hornet tilted her head slightly before speaking again.

“I am Hornet, Protector. Perhaps you have heard of me thorough your journey in the eternal kingdom?”

Cloth’s head snapped up. “Yes! The townsfolk warned me of you! Did you peruse me beyond the kingdom’s boundaries? I didn’t take anything from the kingdom other than a few trinkets.” She carefully telegraphed her movement as she pulled a bag from the ground where she had been hiding, upending it to reveal several personal belongings, a handful of strange, patterned stones, and most notably, a familiar piece of metal with a wing-like pattern engraved on it.

Hornet made a tching sound. “You took a tram pass,” she said scooping it up before moving to the front of the shirshu and holding it to the creature’s nose. “Can it smell another one?”

The shirshu sniffed the metal plate, before lifting its head to the sky and sniffing around. After a moment it started circling, before flopping down and covering its snout with a paw.

“What does that mean?” Zuko asked.

“It means it can’t pick up another scent. Whoever else you’re trying to find doesn’t have one.”

Zuko threw his hands up in frustration, but Hornet turned and focused on the larger girl. “I’m looking for someone specific, who also came from Hallownest perhaps you have seen them?”

“I haven’t seen any bugs since I left,” Cloth said doubtfully, “Put perhaps I could keep an eye out for them?”

“I am looking for my sibling, the Ghost of Hallownest.” Hornet held her hand up to her waste, “They’re about this tall, with a pale mask and small horns; very capable with a nail but they do not speak.”

Cloth gasped, “You’re siblings with the little Wandering Knight?”

“Yes? Have you seen them?” The hope in Hornet’s voice was almost heartbreaking in its sincerity.

“No, not recently, but I owe them my life,” Cloth absentmindedly rubbed the armor plate on her chest, “It’s a good thing they had some lifeblood on them, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Hornet’s whole being seemed to deflate. The other girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, a nervous gesture if Iroh had ever seen one. Cloth seemed to make up her mind and spoke. “If you would like, I could keep an eye out for them?”

“They’re traveling with some human children from what I have heard. If you do come across them tell them to stay put. I will come and retrieve them.” Iroh noted the slight head tilt in their direction at the word human and spent a moment to wonder if Zuko or June had picked up on it too. The implication that Hornet considered them to be other, and that Cloth was closely associated with spirits the same way Hornet was. 

Iroh cleared his throat. “Perhaps even if miss Cloth hasn’t seen your sibling, she can tell us how to get back to your homeland, She did travel here from there, correct?”

“I would also like to know,” June said, overriding Zukos’s sounds of disagreement. Iroh would have to make it up to him at some point. Perhaps he would allow his nephew to win a game of Pai Sho next time they played.

Cloth was already shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but I doubt it will be much help. I set out from Dirtmouth some time ago, but I couldn’t tell you how I got here exactly. Beyond the Howling Wastes the fog was too thick. I felt I was wandering in it for an eternity until I woke up one day in the middle of a field. The fog had retreated, like it was never there in the first place. I couldn’t tell you what direction I came from.”

“But you were able to leave the kingdom,” Hornet said, appraising Cloth for a moment before starting to circle around her, “how did you manage – ah!” Hornet stopped behind cloth and leaned towards the taller girl, examining something. A moment later she jerked away, and Iroh could have sworn he saw a flash of light on her mask along with her whispering that bastard before returning to the respectable distance she had started with.

“Apologies for interrupting your rest, warrior Cloth. We shall leave you to continue your journey, lest you run into either of my wayward siblings.”

Cloth nodded, “I want to help however I can! I will keep an eye out for the little wandering knight, I promise!”

“Thank you,” Hornet said, before turning to June. “I should have known that my siblings lack of pheromones would have made tracking them difficult. Please accept this humble gift as an apology.”

June held out her hand as Hornet pulled something from out of her cloak and gave her a handful of odd, shining stones. June held one up with a critical eye, tilting it this way and that, showing that it had a pattern of sorts built into it.

“Gee, thanks. What is it?” She asked, tone heavy with sarcasm.

“That is geo, the currency of Hallownest. It may be worthless up here, but any wanderers who have visited the kingdom will likely have handled them recently, if they are not actively carrying someone them. If you are determined to meet the colosseum champion it would be prudent to follow every lead you can get.” June smiled, an intelligent light glinting in the corners of her upturned eyes that Iroh couldn’t help but admire as Hornet continued, “If you do manage to reach the kingdom, do tell the townsfolk of Dirtmouth that Hornet Protector sent you.”

June’s smile turned fierce. “I think that works for me. Climb aboard, I can give you a lift back to your ship,” she said before swinging herself back up onto her shirshu.

“An unexpected turn of events,” Hornet muttered, “But fruitful.” She moved to follow June.

“I don’t understand,” Zuko growled out, grabbing hold of Hornet’s cloak. “We didn’t gain any leads! In fact, we lost time. How can you call this tripe fruitful?”

“There are many things you do not understand, princeling,” Hornet said with amusement, “One of those things is that even gods will falter alone. You cannot hope to succeed in this world alone. Instead of burning everyone you meet you should be fostering your bonds. I gained myself two valuable allies. You could do to learn from that.”

With the final words Hornet wheeled away and stalked forward, white gossamer lines floating around her head as she mounted the shirshu behind June, leaving Zuko scowling behind her.

Chapter Text

Survivor, these words are for you alone. The eternal Kingdom has fallen, and the King with it. Our last gift you carry with you as you flee the shattered remains of these ruins. May your mind lead you safely into the unknown, may you be unnoticed by those who would shun your differences.

Hornet traced her claws along the lines of the Seal that covered the back of her head, the pattern impossible to see with her own eyes. She was only aware of its presence from witnessing the same mark on the cicada larva, Cloth.

Damn that Wyrm, the useless coward. His final gift, his last protection, relied on those who depended on him to turn their backs and flee, and with every departing bug their absence tore at the Seals guarding the kingdom. Hornet could only feel dread.

If her sire lived still the Seals would have an infinite Soul supply and the tears in the fabric would mend themselves, but now? The Seal was being shredded. The Soul cannibalized for protection of individual minds and forms, leaving all who remained in the kingdom vulnerable.

Hornet tried to calculate how many bugs had chosen to leave the kingdom, how much drain had already occurred to the Seals, but was only left with a plunging sensation to her stomach.

They needed to get back to Hallownest as soon as possible, lest they damn the surviving members of her Kingdoms to mindless destruction.

Her claws dug into the chitin of her forearms, reminding her of her sire’s other gift. The humans that looked upon her could not see her true face. It suddenly made sense that their perception of her as a human traveler was so widespread.

She wondered what they saw when they looked at her, what image the Seal on her was causing them to see. Between her claws, chitin, fur, and mask, it was hard to say. There was very little in similar between her and the fleshy appearance of a human. Whatever it was must be enough to not cause major suspicion.

She could feel the anger at her sire bubbling through her, fiery and ferocious like a dirtcarver mad with infection, to the point where it overcame her and she slammed her fist against the metal wall of the closet she had retreated to.

The sound rang out, loud and echoing down the hall and Hornet could hear someone yelp outside, footsteps echoing away as the vibrations through her webbing came back to her.

There was nothing she could do right now to change the past, no matter how she would like to sink her fangs into the Bastard that was behind most of her problems. But she needed to do something, to fight something, to be in motion, be productive.

Despite the front she tried to put up to her traveling companions, diplomacy did not come naturally to her. Hornet had worked hard to learn the skillset, and harder to enact it upon her kingdoms. But she was as much a Beast as she was a Wyrm, and neither species was preconceived towards being civilized. When she found herself unable to stay still after extended periods dealing with the smaller details of running a kingdom, she found herself in the same state she was in now; restless and wanting to fight.

Her smaller sibling seemed to be able to sense when this happened, and would challenge her to a spar, testing nail against needle, but unlike their first two fights, there was no desire to hurt one another. Instead, it became a test of skills, a way to practice fighting with a different goal in mind than survival.

Compared to Ghost, Hornet was aware that while she was the more skilled combatant, they were likely the stronger fighter. Their style was as blunt as a nail, only augmented by the few Nail Arts the masters of Hallownest had taught them and their own combative magic that they had mastered, so different from the refined Soul attacks Hollow had been taught to use. But they were persistent and untiring, small enough to sneak under their opponent’s guard and strike close.

They were a good challenge to tire herself out on.

They weren’t here.

Hornet pressed her claws to the Kings Brand seared into her shoulder, waiting until a cold buzz met her fingers, trying to summon the calmness that her siblings often portrayed.

She could almost see little Ghost patting their own brand reassuringly while Hollow simply rubbed at theirs, a firm pressure and comfort across the bond.

With a last squeeze she let go and gathered her needle close. It was time to release some stress the way she preferred to do.

Zuko had wanted to keep moving after the failure with the bounty hunter, but unfortunately his body had objected to the long night out and he had ended up crashing in his quarters as soon as they had gotten back.

Now, he groggily managed to push himself into some semblance of awake and functional, taking in the rocking of the ship and the sound of the engines thrumming below. Hopefully the Lieutenant was getting them back on track, heading north to head off the Avatar before he reached the protection of the Northern Water Tribe.

Zuko took his time putting himself together and dressing before finally making his way out of his quarters and heading towards the bridge.

Upon throwing the door open he was startled to notice that everyone, including the helmsman, appeared to be standing out on the balcony looking down at something occurring on the deck.

“Get back to your station,” he barked at the hapless helmsman, who startled badly before jumping to do his duty, “What’s going on here?”

The Lieutenant spared him a glance before nodding down to the deck, “See for yourself.”

Zuko pushed his way past his uncle to look out over the railing down below.

It was practically a murder scene. Straw and fabric were strewn about the deck as Hornet moved from one victim to the next, the sparring dummies falling apart at the seams as her weapon tore into them.

“… Do we know why she’s doing that?” Zuko asked, looking around only to receive a handful of shrugs from the crew.

“She’s been at it for a while,” Uncle said, stroking his beard, “It has been quite the spectacle.”

Down below, Hornet systematically destroyed another training dummy. Zuko winced at the methodical way she aimed for joints in the plated armor, almost all blows that would kill or seriously maim her opponents.

Lieutenant Jee cleared his throat, “Shouldn’t someone stop her?”

“Oh, probably,” Uncle said, “Reesu is about to burst into tears over the damage she’s caused.”

It was only then that Zuko noticed the quartermaster’s very carefully blank expression frow where he watched the destruction taking place down below.

A moment passed, and it was only after Zuko realized that everyone on the bridge was looking at him that he started.

“Right, I’ll go put a stop to this,” Zuko said, and turned around to exit the bridge, doing his best to ignore the nervous look the helmsman gave him as he left.

Upon reaching the deck the destruction did not look any better, but Zuko could hear the grunts of exertion as Hornet wheeled around, one hand flinging her weapon into the remains of a training dummy while the other gripped the wire attached to it, a flick of her wrist causing the weapon to sail back into her hand.

It was one of the most unusual weapons he had ever seen. The weapon itself was vaguely javelin-like, but the wire attached to it was made of a material Zuko didn’t recognize, light enough to billow out into the air as Hornet manipulated it but reflecting the light in a way that almost made it look like it was glowing.

It almost reminded Zuko of a dancer’s silk scarf, trailing out around and behind Hornet as she moved in a mesmerizing way. It was a wonder something so thin and light did not snap from the tensions placed on it.

Shaking himself from his stupor, Zuko raised his voice.

“What are you doing?”

“Training,” Hornet said, not even gracing him with a glance as she preceded to dismember the second-to-last dummy.

Zuko glowered at her, “You’re just destroying our dummies! My men need to train with them as well!”

They used to have targets too, for firebending practice. Reesu had yet to requisition more after Zuko’s last incident. He was staunchly refusing to feel hypocritical about this entire situation.

Hornet did finally shift away from her destruction, deftly placing her weapon back against her back and turning to face him.

“Please relay to the quartermaster that I am more than capable of repairing them. These training dummies will be returned in better condition than when I first received them.” She said, staring at him with her eerily blank mask.

Zuko didn’t even bother to hide his disbelief, tilting his head sideways to look around her and staring obviously at the destruction behind her.

Hornet considered him for a moment longer before nodding her head back at him.

“Peace princeling,” she said and Zuko felt himself rankle at being addressed that way, “I did not intend to cause concern amongst the crew. I simply wished to train. Unless one of the members is offering to spar and believes that they could keep up with me I will limit my training sessions to these dummies.”

There is something in the way Hornet seemed to be examining him that made Zuko feel distinctly uncomfortable, as if he was a scorpion-bee that had just fallen into a spider-bat’s web, with the web’s creator deciding whether or not it would be worth trying to eat him or cut him free. He can’t help but to wonder if Hornet had somehow been into his quarters and seen the dual dao.

Although even if she had seen the swords there’s no reason for her to think that they were functional rather than just decorations.

Zuko was likely overthinking everything.

“I doubt any of the soldiers would be willing to spar. They prefer the practice dummies,” and the crew’s medic had banned most blade-on-blade spars to lower the number of injuries caused by training accidents.

“A shame,” Hornet said evenly, but somehow looking disappointed despite her mask hiding any true expressions, “I would have enjoyed the challenge.”

Zuko didn’t have anything to say to that, and a moment later Hornet shifted away. “For now, I will endeavor to clean up the deck. Please inform the quartermaster I would like to requisition the use of the training dummies on a daily basis from here on out.”

Zuko snapped his mouth shut hard, just barely trapping in his retort that no one could possibly use those dummies now that they were dismembered and turned away before his temper got the better of him.

“Tell him yourself,” he said instead, “You still have to return them to him even if you’re planning on using them tomorrow.”

He retreated as fast as he could with his dignity and refused to look back despite the little amused chuckle Hornet let out.

Zuko swore it had to be some sort of magic. Every single dummy had been placed back into storage before lunch, looking like nothing had ever happened to them.

No, that wasn’t quite right. They looked better than when they had first been brought onto the ship three years ago, the supplier saying gruffly, ‘this is all we have to share with a ship of your size. The real navy folks need the new ones more than you do.”

Zuko cautiously examined the dummies, the quartermaster standing at the edge of the room with a frown on his face. It rankled him that Hornet was right.

“The stitching is near-invisible,” Reesu said as Zuko poked the seam between the shoulder and torso on the nearest dummy. If I didn’t know better, I’d never guess that they’d been in pieces a few hours ago.”

Ever so slightly, light glinted off what appeared to be the almost translucent threading that now held the dummy together. It reminded him of the wire traps Hornet had set up throughout the cargo hold back when she had first stowed away. It looked like it might be the same material, although what that material was Zuko wasn’t sure. He needed a closer look.

After a few more minutes of tugging and prodding at the new stitching Zuko pulled out his knife and carefully worked it under the thread. One hand braced the stuffed limb of the dummy while the other put force behind the seam, trying to split it. It took a surprising amount of force before the thread snapped, with an almost musical little plink.

Zuko made a grab for the end of the thread, but the moment his finger brushed against it, it let out a flash of light and disintegrated. Blinking the after image from his eyes, Zuko and Reesu were left staring at the dummy for the handful of heartbeats it stood together before falling apart, stuffing, fabric, and armor falling to the ground.

Zuko frowned. He had really been hoping to get a better idea as to what that material Hornet had been using was.

“Take care of this mess,” Zuko said, turning away from the quartermaster and trying to ignore the young man’s disappointed face as he stalked out of the storage room. He would get to the bottom of this mystery one way or another.

It became a regular thing. Every morning Zuko would wake up to see Hornet dismembering training dummies on the deck, only for them to mysteriously repaired by the time Zuko’s own training sessions with Uncle started mid-morning (Uncle always said that firebenders rise with the sun, but training would not start until after they had broken their fast. Zuko privately thought that Uncle just wanted to make sure he always got the food while it was still warm).

There was something about the movements Hornet would make, her weapon soaring through the air followed up by impressive feats of acrobatics. It reminded Zuko of the summers spent training with Master Piando, of how fluid the swordsman was with his weapon to the point where it was hard to see where the blade ended and the man began.

Zuko couldn’t practice like that – out on the deck where anyone might see his dual dao and make the connection between him and enemies of the Fire Nation. Of course, he wouldn’t let his sword skills grow dull, but he couldn’t exactly haul one of the training dummies into his quarters to practice.

Instead, he would run through katas at night, careful to be quiet between the changing shift of his crew, moving through the movements that might one day save his life, through the ones that already had.

But still, it would be nice to practice with a friendly spar instead of during life-or-death circumstances. He hadn’t been able to causally spar since those summers with Piando since his father had seen no reason for him to train with blades instead of bending when he was home.

“Concentrate, Prince Zuko,” Uncle called out when his flameburst careened wildly off the edge of the ship, his sparring partner dodging it only at the last second.

Zuko grit his teeth, cutting back on the snarl to focus on his bending. He didn’t need to think about strange weapons and the even stranger wielder on his ship, he needed to master the advanced sets so he could properly detain the Avatar the next time they faced off.

“Perhaps we should call it a day –”

“No!” Zuko said, cutting off his uncle, “We should continue.”

With a stabilizing breath, Zuko centered himself and pushed away any thoughts outside of his current training. Releasing his breath, he settled back into his starting position.

“I’m ready.”

Perhaps Zuko couldn’t stop thinking about it. in his defense, the ship was currently set on course towards the North Pole and would not stop to make port of another week. At this point they would be exceedingly lucky to cut the Avatar off before he reached his destination.

Still, there were maps to pour over, and other things to concentrate on. It was highly possible that the Avatar might try and visit the Northern Air Temple. Zuko needed to figure out if it was possible to route stopping there into the current travel plans.

It probably wouldn’t be feasible, with how much of the Northern Sea they still had to cover, but still. It might be worth checking.

The Northern Air Temple was decently close to the shore, and if he remembered correctly there was a small group of civilians holed up there who could be questioned for Avatar sightings – but if they had already missed the Avatar at the temple, he would likely reach the Northern Water Tribe before Zuko could catch up.

And if he managed to find a teacher and learn proper waterbending he would become so much harder to capture.

Zuko rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, attempting to fight of the headache he could feel starting to form. He jerked his hands away from his face when a hesitant knock came from outside of his quarters.

Sighing, Zuko sat up, stretching his back from where he had been hunched over his maps.

“Come in,” he called out. A moment later the door slid open and Reesu slipped in carrying one of the spare capes for some reason. Zuko frowned at it as the quartermaster made a hasty bow.

“Prince Zuko. I was doing inventory on the missing uniform cache items and I discovered something I think you should see.”

Interest piqued, Zuko stood up. “What is it?”

“It’s, well, this sir,” Reesu said, holding out the cape. Zuko blinked as the fabric was held up for examination, nothing obvious jumping out at him.

“What about it?”

The quartermaster shifted uncomfortably. “I ah, decided to investigate a bit more on how our newest crewmate was fixing the training dummies. Remember how I said that I thought the spare clothing was going missing briefly? It looks like she did something to it.”

Zuko snatched the red fabric out of the other man’s hands and held it up, examining it for any discernible evidence. After a few fruitless minutes, he tilted the cape towards the lantern on the wall. Slight movements caused light to ripple along the taunt section of the cape, revealing an unobtrusive pattern stitched into the fabric.

“What in the -?” Zuko started as his eyes traced over more of the pattern. There were shapes woven into it, alongside geometric patterns, but the style was unlike any art he had ever seen. It almost looked like the symbol of the Fire Nation, he noted absently, if the flame had only ever been described to the artist without them ever seeing it for themselves.

“Why?” Zuko finally managed to ask. The glinting thread wasn’t holding the cape together, it was a perfectly good cape. “How much of our supplies have this, this thread on it?”

“Almost everything that’s in storage, and I’ve noticed it on some of the clothing that goes into laundry. She’s been busy,” Reesu said, crossing his arms, unable to answer Zuko’s first question.

It was disconcerting. What purpose could the patterns be for? Surely it wasn’t just decorative. Zuko tilted the fabric again, watching the light reflect off the threading.

When Hornet had first joined the crew, she had claimed to be skilled with weaving.

But this wasn’t traditional weaving that he knew.

It did resemble some of the more fantastic designs Zuko had seen embroidered into his own clothes, as well as some of the other nobles around the palace and the capital. However, those designs were made out of golden thread usually, meant to be visible and ostentatious. Whatever material Hornet had used for the threading was distinctively not that.

What was the point of a secret pattern? It just didn’t make sense.

However, with physical proof that Hornet was up to something he had a reason to confront her. A good reason.

“I’ll be taking this from here,” Zuko said, startling the quartermaster before bundling the cape up and putting it under his arm, “Return to your regular duties, but let me know if any more clothing shows up like this.”

“Yes, prince Zuko,” Reesu said, coming to attention smartly for a moment before exiting the cabin, Zuko following barely a second later.

He had a crewmember to confront.

As was unfortunately becoming a pattern, Hornet was proving to be a very difficult person to find.

She wasn’t anywhere on deck, nor was she on top of the command tower, which she had been spotted multiple times ascending in the past. According to Lieutenant Jee, she had completed the tasks he had assigned to her for the day and had disappeared immediately after.

Several members of the crew claimed to have seen her going in different directions. Zuko ignored the looks they were shooting him for stomping around the ship with a spare cape; he had his reasons and their opinions did not matter.

It was only after exhausting every other option that Zuko found himself storming over to his Uncle’s quarters to ask if he had seen their wayward stowaway.

Which was how he ended up standing frozen in the doorway as a blank mask tilted slightly in his direction, teacup held delicately in black-gauntleted hands.

Zuko scowled, before coming fully into the cabin. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you,” he said, allowing some accusation to sneak into his voice.

“General Iroh was kind enough to invite me in for some tea,” Hornet said, her tone even as she placed the teacup back onto the low table next to a spread-out map that they had apparently been examining and rested her hand on the hilt of her weapon, “I would be remiss to deny his offer.”

“Would you like to join us, Prince Zuko?” Uncle asked, already reaching over to the teapot that was still warming over a tea candle. “It’s a lovely ginseng blend.”

Zuko shook his head moving towards the table.

“This is more important than tea,” he said holding out the cape.

He didn’t miss the way Hornet’s legs shifted under her as if she was prepared to spring up as Uncle’s voice cried out, “Nothing is more important than tea!”

Zuko ignored him and held the cape up, shaking it a bit. “What have you been doing to our clothes?”

Hornet’s head tilted ever so slightly and Zuko hated that it was covered in a mask. It was cowardly to hide one’s face like that.

“You are going to have to be more specific than that, princeling,” she said, “There is many things I have done to the clothing on this ship; the Lieutenant has tasked me with assisting with laundry.”

Frustrated at Hornet’s intentional obtuseness, Zuko threw the cape over the table, before falling to his knees beside her and jabbed a finger at the faintly glimmering stitching that now covered it.

“Recognize this?” he said, pointing viciously at it, “because I do. It’s the same material you used to fix the dummies, and the same material you used when you first stowed-away to make the traps in the cargo hold.”

“It is,” Hornet said, a statement, not a question.

Zuko blinked. He had expected a denial and was now thrown off.

“Well?” he finally managed to get out, “What is it?”

Hornet’s covered fingers brushed against the design woven into the cape, and Zuko barely restrained a flinch as the design briefly caught the light, shining out and visible in all of its intricacies for just a moment.

“It is a gift, princeling, freely given.”

“I don’t understand –” Zuko started but was interrupted by Uncle, who was giving him an odd look.

“Thank you for your gift, miss Hornet, but you did not need to give us anything more than that which you have already provided by being a member of the crew.”

Zuko shook his head, drawing Hornet’s attention back to him. “If you’re going out of your way to embroider something into spare clothes why use translucent thread? What’s the point of an invisible design?”

“Perhaps it is not the visual appeal that is important, but rather what it can do,” Hornet said, voice sounding almost smug as she raised a hand into the air.

“The material is no normal thread; it is soul-spun silk,” She pinched the air in front of her, the way the gauntlets covered her fingers making it look almost like she had claws. “It can be difficult to see when it is not active.”

Zuko barely withheld a gasp as the point of contact between Hornet’s fingers lit up with a bright white glow, painfully bright to look at. The light caused strange shadows to grow across Hornet’s mask, making her look sharper and foreign.

He didn’t miss the way Uncle’s eyes bulged out of his face as Hornet drew her fingers down, a glowing white strand of thread – no, silk – was left behind, drifting in the air.

“Of course, it can be used much the same as normal silk, woven into cloth or used for binding,” Hornet said, before suddenly flicking her fingers, making the strand snap out above them and at least tripling it in length before the glow disappeared. Zuko could barely see it through the afterimage, the silk only visible in the way Hornet seemed to wind it around her arm from elbow to palm.

“However, it is perfect for true Weaving,” Hornet said, emphasis placed heavily on the last word, and her hands started moving again, twisting the silk into a design suspended between her fingers like a more complicated version of croccocat’s cradle. “And the results are just the same in the end if it were Weaver-spun silk.”

Finished with the pattern she had made, Hornet held it up with one hand while the other brushed the cape on the table out of the way, revealing the map of the northern Earth Kingdom below. There was another flash of light and for a moment Zuko could see the full pattern emblazoned on the map before winking out.

“It’s dangerous to have so much flammable material around open flames, flameslinger,” Hornet said, lifting the teapot off its stand and holding the edge of the map above the tea candle flame, “There are many types of Seals a Weaver can make, and this one is my gift to you.”

Without further ado, Hornet lowered the map edge into the flame. Zuko made an aborted move to snatch the map away from her – there were only so many maps that hey currently had – when the map started glowing again, the pattern lighting up and visible as some sort of flame sigil.

The map did not catch on fire, no matter how the candle’s flame licked at its edge.

Zuko had seen magic tricks before. As a child he remembered a time before everything when wrong that they had gone to a festival, his mother taking him an Azula to see the street performance where a man had pulled flowers out of his hat and floated lanterns into the air. At the time he had been fascinated, wanting to recreate the tricks himself, at least until his father had shattered his beliefs by forcing the man to expose his tricks. Hidden compartments in the hat, wires and superheated air by discreet firebending to get the items to float.

There were no hidden wires here. No discreet firebending as far as he could tell. There had to be something, but for the life of him Zuko couldn’t figure out the trick.

“…How?” Zuko finally was willing to ask, watching as Hornet shifted the map in the flame, the sigil still glowing.

“The soul-silk forms a Seal, and as long as a Soul source is flowing thought it, it will not burn. But should the source disappear,” Hornet paused, and let go of the map, the sigil instantly fading and hungry flames curling and blackening the old paper as if fluttered to the table, “the Seal will no longer activate, and the paper will burn.”

Hornet reached down to the burning map, pressing a single finger to the paper. Immediately, the sigil – the Seal – started glowing again and the flames went out, leaving half a map sitting on the table.

Zuko ignored the thoughtful sound Uncle made and tried to catch Hornets gaze through the eyeholes in her mask, seeing something glittering in the deep recesses that made something in his own eyes water although that could just be the smoke from the burnt map.

“Teach me.”

The words slipped out of Zuko’s mouth before he could catch them.

Hornet did not say anything for a moment, just stared at him before slowly shaking her head.

“I do not believe I can.”

“Why not?”

“I would not be the right teacher for you.” Zuko felt the frustration rising in him, but Hornet raised her hand and paused his growing ire. “My methods would not be physically possible for you to replicate. You would require a teacher who understands the intricacies of designing Seals through different means. Before the Watcher went to Dream, he had some experience in working with spellcasters….”

Hornet trailed off, mumbling something about higher beings.

Zuko steadfastly did not look at Uncle. He did not want to know what the older man was thinking.

Hornet’s gaze snapped back to him. “I may not be able to teach you how to properly Weave, but if you wish I can share some of my people’s combat methods. Perhaps we could spar?” She waved her hand towards her weapon and Zuko’s gaze was drawn to its sharp point.

And oh, that was tempting. But dangerous too.

“What makes you think I can use a sword?”

“I presumed you would be firebending, unless you can use the pair of blades you so proudly display in your quarters. It would be interesting to see them in action.”

Well, that answered his earlier question. Hornet had been in his room at some point during her stay on the ship and had seen his dual dao.

Zuko bristled, ready to vehemently deny that the blades were anything other than decorations but before he could say it Uncle replied to Hornet instead, throwing an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and dragging him a bit closer.

“My nephew trained under the best swordsman in the Fire Nation, perhaps the world. I’m sure he would be delighted to practice; it has been too long since I’ve seen him train with his blades.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Zuko said through gritted teeth, disentangling himself, “But I don’t need to practice with my dao when I should be working on mastering my advanced firebending sets.” He could feel Hornet’s sharp attention on him as he crossed his arms.

“Nonsense!” Uncle said, shaking his head, “Just because your father put no faith in your skills outside of bending does not mean that you should give up on your passions.”

“I don’t want to perform to an audience,” Zuko snarled. It was one thing to practice firebending where the whole crew could see and judge his lackluster skills. It was another thing entirely to draw his dao, a weapon no sensible firebender should be using, and be spotted using a weapon that a wanted criminal was known to use. His crew was too smart to overlook a detail like that. At least, they better be.

Uncle looked thoughtful. “Tonight is music night. I’m sure no one will be paying attention to the aft deck, should anyone decide to use it for anything. Afterall, music night is very popular.”

Zuko blinked. That might actually work. If all the crew was occupied somewhere else, and the essential crew was at their assigned stations in the engines and the command tower no one should be looking on the aft deck. It was a good of an opportunity that they could hope to get.

And privately? He wanted to spar.

“Fine. Tonight, at sunset. The aft deck.” Zuko watched the minute shifting across Hornet’s posture.

She seemed excited.

“At sunset. I will be there, princeling.”

This was a terrible idea. Zuko shouldn’t be sneaking around on his own ship, but here he was, peering out of the deep sun-cast shadows to the open deck, checking to see if the coast was clear.

It made him feel a bit better that he couldn’t see Hornet out there yet either but still. He shouldn’t be doing this at all.

It wasn’t until he could hear the distinctive sound of a tsungi horn bellowing out from the other side of the ship that he was willing to slink out onto the aft deck, dual dao sheathed and dangling from his belt.

It was sunset. Zuko glanced around suspiciously, wondering where Hornet was when he heard an ever-so slight thump behind him.

Spinning around, he caught sight of Hornet straightening up from a crouch, and he had the horrible feeling that she had dropped down from somewhere above. He hoped it wasn’t the command tower. That was a terrifying distance to fall without aid to ease the landing.

“I see you have brought your blades,” Hornet said, shifting to hold her weapon level with the ground behind her, “May I see them?”

Zuko is reluctant to draw his swords, but he is going to need to eventually if they are going to spar. Glancing around once more to ensure that none of the crew have slunk over to this side of the ship, he unhooked the scabbard from his belt and removed the dao from their sheath.

Hornet took a step closer, head tilted as she examined the blades. “I have never seen anything quite like this before in Hallownest.” A single gauntleted finger reached out and carefully tapped the sharp edge of one of the blades. “Very few beings use bladed weapons like these. I’ve only ever seen their like in the Colosseum of Fools where spectacle is more important than clean kills. Although the Mantis Tribe’s claws are very similar as the denizens of the Fungal Wastes have very little carapace to protect them from slashing weapons.”

“Your people don’t use swords at all?” Zuko didn’t bother to keep the incredulity out of his voice, but Hornet seemed more amused than annoyed.

“Bladed tools are of little use when your enemies and food alike are armored. Weapons like my needle are designed to pierce through weak points in the carapace for clean kills. It is much easier to roast a dirtcarver in its own shell than to try and break through the shell while it is still alive.”

That seemed … reasonable. Earth Kingdom soldier often wore armor, and while melee troops would sometimes combat them the more common response was to send out a squad of firebenders. And spears were the typical response for ostrich-horses as they could breach the plates that protected them.

He idly wondered what a dirtcarver was.

“Dual dao aren’t just a pair of swords,” Zuko said, shifting away from Hornet and moving slowly through his warmup kata, “they’re a single weapon split apart. They become an extension of the wielder’s body.”

“Do you use them in conjunction with your fire bending?”

Zuko startled in his movements, missing a beat before shifting back to look at her. “No. I don’t think anyone would think to do that. Most people who know how to bend don’t bother to learn how to use any other weapon.”

Hornet made a noncommittal sound.

“What about your weapon?” Zuko said, attempting to shift the focus, “Is it common where you’re from?”

“The needle is the traditional weapon of Deepnest, my homeland. It is rare to see one in Hallownest proper.”

As she spoke she shifted her grip on the weapon – the needle – holding in front of her with the tip pointed down, the metallic loop level with Hornet’s shoulders.

“It is a tool, used for both hunting and navigating around obstacles. It is a two-handed weapon, in that one hand controls the needle itself and the other manipulates the thread. My mother used to dual wield a pair of greatneedles before she was sent to Dream.”

Zuko blinked in bewilderment. How could someone dual-wield a two-handed weapon?

Did Hornet’s mother hold the thread in her teeth? What did it mean to be sent to Dream? That was the second time she had mentioned it. Perhaps it was a way her people were set to rest – a funerary rite of some sort.

Zuko shook his head, trying to get the image out of his head.

A slight gimmer of light shone off the loop portion of the needle and Zuko caught sight off the silky threadlike material Hornet had showed them earlier, tied to the loop and loosely wrapped around her wrist before disappearing off somewhere.

He focused back on the needle. “It’s a bit like a javelin, but with its own retrieval method?”

“I do not know what a javelin is,” Hornet said.

“It’s like a – a harpoon launched from a ballista, but without the chain.”

“I am unfamiliar with both of those weapon types.”

Zuko cleared his throat. “You know what, it’s not that important. Are we going to spar or not?”

Hornet shifted her grip on the needle’s hilt once more, her whole body shifting into something more active, a trap ready to spring.

“Whenever you are ready, princeling,” she said, and her dark eyes seemed to glitter as Zuko moved into a ready position.

He took a deep, centering breath before speaking, “I’m ready.”

“Then let us begin,” Hornet said, blocking Zuko’s sudden lunge with ease before backstepping what felt like half the deck away. He watched as Hornet flicked the end of her needle, the motion coinciding with the silk attached to the loop lighting up and billowing into the air behind her, and Zuko wondered if perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew.