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“No! It cannot be!”
Blood-red and empty only seconds before, the white full moon was suddenly restored to the sky, and a pang of disappointment ripped through Admiral Zhao’s chest. How could it have happned It must have been the Avatar’s doing. No longer would he be hailed as the Moonslayer, most glorious of all of the Fire Nation generals… But perhaps the battle could still be won. He strode on with his head held high across the arched bridge, his eyes scanning desperately for Fire Nation soldiers to back him up, but all were engaged fighting the newly re-invigorated Waterbenders. He marched forward. Then, he felt something tight around his waist.
Zhao looked up to see a giant blue beast made of shimmering water, with glowing blue eyes. The Ocean Spirit. It gripped his waist tighter and dragged him down, down, down towards the icy waves. Panic rose in Zhao’s chest for a moment, but he quickly mastered it. This was only a temporary defeat, he reminded himself.
“Take my hand,” yelled Prince Zuko from the bridge.
Take his hand? No, Zhao would rather die than be saved by that traitor. He pulled it back as Zuko stared in disbelief. But Zhao smiled to himself. For he possessed a secret of which Zuko knew nothing, a secret perhaps greater than the discovery of the Moon Spirit’s earthly form itself.
Zhao heaved in a great gasp of the cold Northern air and prepared himself to be submerged. If his plan worked, it would only be a few minutes under the water, and then—his new plan, a plan to lead him to glory beyond the mortal world. He tasted the salt water and closed his nose and mouth, then reached for his breast pocket.
It was a device he had discovered in Wan Shi Tong’s library, in a glass case near the scroll describing the earthly forms of the Moon and Ocean spirits. A small box with a crank. When he opened it, it revealed five painted wooden figures, jointed at the arms and legs, no more than a finger’s height each but finely carved and individually recognizable: an Airbender, a Waterbender, an Earthbender, a Firebender, and the first Avatar, Wan himself, arranged at the peaks of a pentagram. According to the ancient scroll he had found alongside it, the figures would perform a lost bending sequence of incredible power, one which, when performed by five benders in concert, would open a portal to the Spirit World.
Zhao felt the hand of the Ocean Spirit release him and dissolve into water. His body was buffeted by waves and slowly dragged down to the sea floor by his heavy admiral’s armor. He came to rest on a sandy bottom. A minute’s rest, and he was still. The lack of air began to sting his lungs, but he remembered the disclipline that had won him the position of admiral, and he mastered his fear. He wound the crank and pried open the box, hoping against hope that it would work. Blinking back salt water, he opened his eyes and watched as the figures began their dance.
In perfect unison, the five figures stretched out their arms. They pulled their arms back to their faces sharply, hands spreading across their cheeks like a mask. They hurled their arms in the air, beat on their chests as though gasping for air. At last the sequence was completed. For a moment, nothing. Then, a glowing white disk appeared just above the box. It grew and grew until it was large enough to admit a man. Zhao blinked back salt water and stared in amazement. Then, he was sucked in.
Zhao awoke to find himself in a murky forest of trees with thick trunks and spidery roots. The Spirit World. The box lay a few feet away from him on its side, the Benders and Avatar frozen in position. Zhao grinned. “I did it,” he muttered to himself. “I jumped.”
He rose to his feet. In the distance he saw a young woman with shining white hair and billowing blue robes. Princess Yue. He scanned for the Avatar but the boy seemed to be long gone. Perhaps Yue knew a secret of the Moon Spirit. Zhao scooped up the box of the Five Benders and began to run after her, but Yue ran away. He heard low chanting and passed a monkey, who glared after him indignantly.
“Dear me,” sighed the monkey. “First the boy with the Airbender tattoos, then the moon princess, then this blundering admiral. Can’t a fellow get any peace and quiet in the Spirit World?”
Zhao chased the girl for what felt like hours, wondering if he should be seeking the Avatar but sensing that he was on to something important. Then, his sense was confirmed.
The princiess stopped in front of a tall pagoda. It had slanting, sharp black roofs and a red frame. At its highest level was a lacquered window depicting a white lotus. The window was left slightly ajar and a powerful white light emanated from it, just like the light of the Spirit Portal.
Yue turned to face Zhao. “You. You tried to kill the Moon. How dare you! Do you think that wielding your power to destroy will every make you a great man? No! You may have tried to crush me, but I will rise. Now, stand back. I am going on a journey, but you will stay here with your empty ambitions."
“Yue!” Zhao shouted.
“No, I have a different name now. OA!”
She began to float upwards off the ground, rising to the highest level of the pagoda. And in that moment Zhao realized that he had found something of far greater value than the Moon Spirit. Here was a gateway between the Spirit World and the practical world. He could feel the power emanating from the lacquer lotus window, and he knew that he had to capture this girl for himself to wield the power.
What was her name again? Yue? Oe? Oh-Wei? Away? Two new characters he had never learned impressed themselves onto his mind. O. A. OA.
As Yue—OA—slowly ascended, Zhao leapt up to the pagoda and scaled it, grasping its posts with his hands and hoisting his body up as fast as he could to reach her. He was a man’s height behind her. Zhao watched in amazement as the lacquer lotus window slowly creaked open of its own accord. OA floated serenely at the level of the window, gazing down into the glowing portal. Zhao fumbled in his breastplate and found a rock that had jammed between his armor during his descent to the ocean bottom. He threw it. It struck OA and she tumbled through the window.
Zhao scaled the last level of the pagoda and dragged his face to the level of the window. He steadied his hands and feet and looked down. Instead of bright white light, as he had seen at the portal into the Spirit World, he saw a dark night sky and a crowd of shadowy people gathered in a town square. Snow was falling and lanterns burned. Zhao spotted a young woman with gleaming white hair among the crowd. Yue—no, OA. He hoisted himself up to the windowsill and crawled in.
Falling. Then a sudden thump to the ground.
Zhao was dizzy. He looked up into swirling snow. He thought he saw a small circle of white light closing, but soon there was nothing but inky sky.
People gathered all around him, people in clothes he did not recognize, speaking a strange language that he did not know, but suddenly began to understand. He was no longer wearing his Fire Nation armor, but a heavy brown coat. He felt into its pocket and his hand met the Box of Five Benders. He also pulled out a piece of folded leather with papers stuffed into it. He ripped it open. On one side, an identification card, on the other, more cards and wadded green paper that he did not recognize. The identification card read, “Hunter Aloysius Perry, United States.”
“Where am I?” asked Zhao.
“Oh no, he’s delirious,” said a man in a thick coat and a hat. “St. Petersburg, capital of Russia.”
Zhao rose to his knees and caught a fleeting glance of the young woman with the glowing white hair, slipping away into the crowd.
“And who is she?” asked Zhao, pointing to the woman.
“Avatar Nina Azarova,” replied the man. “I am surprised you do not recognize her, she is quite a well-known figure….”
Avatar Nina Azarova. Princess Yue. OA.
Zhao smiled to himself. The lore of the scroll now made perfect sense. He had opened a portal, not from the material world to the Spirit World, but between worlds. And through all of these Worlds, he knew one thing: that he must capture—not Avatar Aang, not Princess Yue—but the OA.