Chapter 18: Price and Earthbending

The valley stretched before them, an endless abyss of swirling mist that devoured light and sound alike. The air itself was dense, thick with something unseen, something ancient. It curled around their bodies, tendrils of vapour licking at their skin, whispering in voices too quiet to hear.

The sky above was muted, a dull grey that gave no sense of time, no indication of whether it was day or night.

John stood at the threshold, his cloak billowing behind him in the unnatural breeze that rose from the mist. The handful of survivors huddled close, their expressions tense, eyes darting between him and the void before them.

Even the youngest of them could feel it; this was no ordinary place.

And the sky bison knew it. No matter how much they tugged at their reigns, how much they coaxed, the great beasts refused to take another step forward. Their massive feet dug into the earth, nostrils flaring as they grunted in unease. They sensed the wrongness of this place, the way the air twisted and pulsed with something beyond their comprehension.

John's patience thinned. His eyes darkened, and without a second thought, he pushed out a pulse of chi. It spread through the mist like ink in water, unseen but felt. The air grew heavier, pressing down on them all.

The effect was immediate.

The sky bison trembled, their resistance breaking in an instant. With slow, reluctant steps, they moved forward, their bodies stiff with unease. They obeyed; not out of trust, but because something greater than fear itself had gripped their souls.

John turned his gaze forward, his expression hard. The mist swallowed them whole as they entered, and within moments, the outside world ceased to exist.

The silence was suffocating.

No footsteps echoed; no breath stirred. The mist devoured all sound, leaving them trapped in a realm where only thoughts existed. It was cold, yet there was no wind. It was dark, yet there was no shadow.

The airbenders walked in uneasy silence, their gazes flickering between each other, as if afraid that the next time they turned, someone would be gone.

And then, they were.

A single snap of fingers rang out, cutting through the silence like a blade. John turned sharply, but the others were gone.

Vanished.

The mist remained undisturbed, as if they had never existed in the first place. A single figure stood before him now, his form emerging from the haze like a ghost made flesh. He was tall, draped in black, his pointed hat casting a shadow over his face. A silver-rimmed monocle gleamed in the dim light, reflecting John's own wary expression.

Amon smiled, "You've returned."

His voice was soft, smooth, each syllable lingering in the air longer than it should.

John's fists clenched, "Where did you send them?"

Amon waved a hand dismissively, "They are safe, for now. But that is not why you came, is it?"

His monocle shimmered as he tilted his head, "You've made your choice, then?"

John inhaled slowly. The weight of the decision pressed against his chest, but he had made peace with it long before he arrived, "Yes."

Amon's smile widened, "Are you sure?"

John did not hesitate, "Yes."

Amon stepped forward, the mist curling around his boots like living tendrils, "And when the path becomes too difficult? When the cost is higher than you imagined?" He gestured to the void around them, "Do I have permission to… encourage you?"

John's jaw tightened. He knew what Amon meant. He had made deals before; bargains with men who promised much and delivered more than expected.

"If…" John corrected.

Amon chuckled in response, "When."

Silence stretched between them. John closed his eyes for a brief moment. His past, his regrets, his failures; they meant nothing now. Only the future mattered. The people who still lived. His answer was quiet but firm, "Yes."

Amon hummed in satisfaction; a sound that barely resembled anything human. "Good, then you can join them. Oh, and remember, time may be faster inside, but that does not mean it is stopped on the outside…"

With a snap of his fingers, the mist collapsed inward.

And John was gone.

…

Aang sat atop Appa's massive head, the wind rushing past him as they soared high above the endless blue ocean. The Southern Water Tribe had long disappeared behind him, and ahead, the vast continent of the Earth Kingdom stretched towards the horizon, shrouded in the morning mist.

His robes fluttered in the wind, but he hardly noticed. His mind was elsewhere; on where he was going, on what he had just left behind, and on everything he had lost.

"Bumi… I have to go to Bumi."

When he first met Bumi after the genocide, he was told to first learn water-bending at the southern water-tribe. Now that that was complete… he would return to Bumi.

The Southern Water Tribe had welcomed him, taught him, given him the time and space to heal; at least, as much as he could. He had spent months training, pushing himself harder than ever before, trying to prove to himself that he could still be the Avatar, that he wasn't just a lost boy clinging to the ruins of a dead nation.

"I mastered waterbending. At least, that's what Master Kavi said before I left. But why… why doesn't it feel like enough?" His hands tightened into fists against the saddle.

Water was flexible, fluid, constantly shifting with the flow of the world. It had felt… natural in a way, like slipping into a rhythm he had always known but never fully embraced. But waterbending had also made him feel unmoored, as if he were still drifting, still running, still unable to plant his feet in the ground and stand firm.

That was why he needed to go to Bumi.

"Earth is different. It's solid, unshakable. You can't run away with earthbending. You have to face things head-on," was what avatar Kyoshi had told him.

That was what he needed now; something to ground him. Something to hold him in place when his heart kept trying to flee, to escape into the past, into memories he could never relive.

And if anyone could teach him how to do that, it was Bumi.

Aang exhaled, looking down at the ocean far below. The waves rolled endlessly, their deep blues and greens shifting with the sky above, "It's strange… I always thought flying made me feel free. But lately, it's been the opposite."

Ever since he heard the news about the genocide from Bumi… flying had felt like running. No matter where he went, it was never the same as before. The world he once knew was gone, burned away by the Fire Nation's ambition.

His people, his home, his friends; except for the few survivors, were nothing more than whispers in the wind.

Bumi was the last connection to that world. One of the last living pieces of his past, "If anyone can remind me of who I'm supposed to be, what I'm supposed to do… it's him."

Appa let out a low, comforting rumble, as if sensing Aang's turmoil. Aang smiled faintly and patted the bison's fur, "Yeah, buddy… Let's go see Bumi."

The wind picked up, carrying them forward toward the heart of the Earth Kingdom, where Omashu awaited.