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The gardens of the Northern Water Tribe Palace were not what people would usually expect. Nothing could grow from the ice, but the resilience of the tribe had worked wonders, creating incredible architecture and ice trees.
To Clark it had always seemed like a useless whim. Something that was more likely to be seen in Luthor's residence in Caldera City and not in the far more respectable residence of the royal family.
Once, he hated that place. But after her death, he had not been able to access it anymore, without expecting to see her at any moment. Hoping that a part of her had remained. If not to curse him, at least to persecute him.
"Have you come here to tell me I'm wrong?"
The voice was not sweet. It wasn't even imperious. She was tired, of those who felt cornered and not understood. Clark's heart sank.
She was there, sitting on an ice bench, staring at statues, her figure made more imposing by the blue furs she wore.
Clark couldn't see his face. He would have liked him to turn around. At least, he would know that it is her, and not the fruit of his mind. Because if she had a face, then it wouldn't be just a memory.
"Bryce..."
"If you're not here for that, you can also leave. I do not need to hear from the Venerable what kind of unfit Avatar I am."
"I never said that..."
"No? Kal-El, the last God-Spirit that was created, you keep telling me that I should be softer. Bryce, the Avatar is the bridge between spirits and humans, you have to be benevolent, otherwise you scare them. Or Bryce, you should be more emotionally open, how will these strangers know you're interested in them if you don't cry? I've always been efficient, but it's never been enough, hasn't it? I have to be better, more spiritual. I can't afford it, and you know it. “
Now he knew. Now he understood how much weight had been placed on her shoulders, not only expecting her to fulfill her duties as an Avatar, but also as a princess of her tribe. Duties that had forced her to marry and Clark didn't understand why she had to do such a thing, marry someone she didn't love, and he had been so angry, he had told her... He didn't want to think about what he had told her.
He had been jealous, even if he didn't understand it then. He had hurt her, just one of the many times he had done so. It was yet another thing he had never apologized to her for.
"You're a perfect Avatar," he muttered, trying to move, but his legs showed no sign of moving, as if he, too, had turned to ice, "The best Avatar the world could have."
A mocking sound, "And yet, I failed. Vaatu has freed himself. Spirits have devastated my tribe..."
"Dick took care of the spirits. He and Cassandra have... They worked together."
"Really? Even if the tribe is a wasteland forgotten by all the gods and arid like me?"
He licked his lips, "Dick regretted it. They all regretted it."
"And what do I do with their regret? I'm dead, Kal-El. I died trying to repair the damage that other benders had done. To the damage made by Jason. Has one of you come to help me? Did you come when I asked you? NO."
The ice beneath him cracked, a shapeless black mass came out of the cracks. The sky darkened, covered by Vaatu's vast form.
Bryce stood up, continuing to stand with her back turned, " You didn't listen to me. None of you did. I have asked you for help, several times. You should have believed me. But for you, it was me who had to leave political matters aside to focus only on the spiritual side. It wasn't the spirits who were out of their minds, but I didn't know how to manage them! The problem was always me! I was not a good Avatar, a good princess for my people, a good mother... I was nothing."
The cracks deepened, Clark was swallowed up by the black mass, slimy as ink and slimy. He tried to keep his head afloat, but it was difficult, he needed to breathe, he needed...
"I'm sorry, Bryce. Sorry... we are all sorry... but please... Where are you? The world needs the Avatar..."
Finally, Bryce turned around. Her face was covered in the same black substance that was now choking Clark, eyes torn out, and rivulets of blood joining the black.
"The Avatar is dead, Kal El. Handle it yourself."
Clark woke up screaming, waking up Dick as well, lying in the bed opposite.
The small room provided by the innkeeper was small, smelled of fish and piss, and was windowless. It was all she could give them, and Clark had been grateful to her. Now he wanted to open a hole in the wall and let the sun in.
He wanted to see her again. He wanted to find Bryce. But most of all, he wanted proof that the monks of the Northern Air Temple were right and that the cycle had not broken.
Here's the story everyone knows: twenty-four years ago, Vaatu, spirit of darkness and chaos, was freed from his prison thanks to the machinations of Lex Luthor, allied with a crazed religious leader who had promised him the power to overthrow Kal El, the last Spirit God still walking the world.
The Avatar, Princess Bryce of the Southern Water Tribe, had fought Vaatu, now in Luthor's body, and lost.
Vaatu had escaped, Luthor's body damaged, and the spirits had been freed.
For twenty-four years, humanity had coexisted, with varying degrees of success, with beings who previously inhabited the spirit world and Vaatu hidden.
A world without the Avatar, the cycle seemingly over.
Kal El, known to humans as Clark, however, was convinced that the cycle was not over and that the Avatar still lived. He needed to think so.
He had a debt to repay to the woman he loved.
The market was a melting pot of people, who came from all the neighboring villages to sell their crops and to have a chance to recreate themselves from their usual sad lives.
It was nothing special, Clark and Dick in their search had seen the largest cities of the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, and that was very poor.
Not that Clark was interested in that. Over many years, he had hoped to hear a trace, something that would lead him to the new Avatar. He had never been successful.
"Are you sure it was just a dream?" Dick asked him again, as he used an apple to play with. It wasn't behavior for a man his age, but Clark didn't feel like scolding him.
It would have been strange: anyone who had looked at them would have seen a dignitary of the Northern Water Tribe with his young companion.
No one would have ever imagined that of the two, Clark was the older, and by centuries.
"Yes, Dick. I'm sure of it."
"Not a vision? Maybe a message from the spirit realm? The Avatar..."
"It was a dream, it wasn't the Avatar. It was just a nightmare."
And he was familiar with nightmares. They had been tormenting him for twenty-four years, reminding him of all his failures.
"But think about it, maybe he wanted to tell you where to find the Avatar. Maybe we are on the right track. In short, we didn't end up here by chance..."
Clark didn't listen: his gaze, dull, tired, was attracted by a figure next to a fruit and vegetable stall.
Instinctively, he walked toward that figure, ignoring Dick's questions. He felt on fire, drawn to something as familiar as energy itself, like that monstrosity that Vaatu had opened in the Southern Water Tribe.
It could not be. He didn't want to think about it. It seemed too much of a happy coincidence, and he didn't believe it.
But when he stood in front of the man, face to face with him, and saw his eyes, Clark forgot how to breathe.
Bryce.
In a new form, a masculine body, but as beautiful as in her previous life. And now she looked at him with annoyed curiosity, as if she didn't understand why Clark was there, why...
"Did I know you?"
Clark didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Next to him, Dick looked like he was about to have a panic attack. He knew that Dick had recognized the man. He didn't perceive things like Clark, but those eyes were unmistakable.
Without any doubts, in front of them was the new Avatar. They had found Bryce's reincarnation.
The young man looked at them suspiciously.
"So? I don't have all day,” the man said, in a flat, icy tone, that it was out of tune with a random farmer from the Earth Kingdom but that they would not look out of place on a princess.
"What's your name?" Clark found himself asking, his voice choked, struggling with emotions he thought he'd learned to control. He was wrong.
There were things time couldn't heal, and twenty-four years was a terribly short amount of time for a spirit, even when he was in human form like him.
"Bruce," the man said, “What’s the matter? Who…”
"Are you a bender?"
It was an obvious question. Of course he was a bender. That was the Avatar, for crying out loud. Just because it took so long to find him didn't mean he hadn't at least learned to bend his element in the meantime.
Bruce's gaze sharpened. "Are you recruiters for the Earth King?"
"What, no..."
"Because as I said before, I will not be a slaughter animal for that madman, I don't care how many ass-kissers come to this remote, ghost-forsaken village..."
"Dad?" He turned, his gaze softening. Dick now had tears in his eyes as he saw a small child struggling to keep from falling while carrying a basket of bread. "Mrs. Oma said this is for our good work."
"Are you...married?" Clark found himself asking, feeling as if someone had ripped his heart out of his chest. Again.
"I don't see how this is any of your business," the man spat, holding the child away from them. "Come on, Terry. We're done for today."
He was about to leave. Clark couldn't allow that. He took his wrist.
"Wait..."
A column of earth came between them, separating them. Bruce looked at him annoyed, no recognition in his gaze. Clark wanted to scream, "It's me. We were best friends. We were more. I loved you. I know you did too. I failed you. I left you when you needed me. I'm sorry. Please remember me..."
Instead, as he had done so many, too many times before, he said nothing. Bryce was right to laugh at him. He was such a coward.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Terry...let's go..."
Clark saw him turn away, his body doing nothing, his voice caught in his throat.
It was Dick who took action.
"We're here for you."
"I already said I'm not enlisting..."
"You're the Avatar!"
Bruce stopped, but didn't turn around. His son—God, his son—looked at Dick curiously.
Then he turned to his father, "Is that true? Are you the Avatar?"
"Of course not. The cycle is broken. There will be no more Avatars. The gentlemen were wrong," Bruce replied, but it was clear he meant something else, but he didn't want to set a bad example for his son.
Dick seemed about to say more, but Bruce didn't give him time to speak. He walked briskly, disappearing into the market crowd, and Dick croaked a "Mom!" that didn't make him turn around.
Clark ran a hand over his eyes.
Of course, the new incarnation of Bryce hated him. What could he expect? He'd left her to die alone, miserable, while Vaatu tore her physical body to pieces and spirits poured into the world.
Something like that scarred a soul, and even if you didn't remember, the wound was there, remembering it for you.
"We need to find out where he lives," Dick said, trying to rouse Clark. "What he does for work, who his friends are, his...family."
Getting the last word out had been like pulling a tooth. Dick had been absent for most of Bryce's last years, arguing every time they had to interact. Yelling at her that Bryce wasn't his mother and that Dick hated her.
(And so did Jason, Tim, Stephanie... Damian regretted not being able to say it because he was Bryce's, but in his worst days, full of spite, he said that Dick was more of a parent than her. He had said it the day before the Avatar died, too. They had been his last words to his mother.)
Now, the new Avatar looked at him, with those same eyes, and saw a stranger, no moment of oh, I know who you are, you're my son.
To him, they were just two strangers come to disturb his peace. And deep down, that was true.
He seemed happy. Perhaps, Bruce was not surrounded by the respect and fear of his subjects, perhaps he was not as rich or revered as a member of a royal family, but he had a son who loved him and did not have the weight of the world on his shoulders. No expectations as an Avatar, no one who was disappointed with how he performed his duties. No one told him that whatever he did, it was wrong. No Clark to let him down.
"Yes, we have to do this..." he said, absently. "I'll send a message to Barbara... I'll tell her..."
"Don't say anything to your siblings," Clark looked at him, and Dick looked at him in surprise, "Why? We found Bryce."
"He's not... he's not our Bryce, Dick," he said, as gently as he could manage. "He won't recognize them, and he'll have every reason to kick us out. He..."
He doesn't love us, he doesn't love you, he won't support our bullshit like Bryce used to.
He couldn't say it. But Dick understood. After all, he was the one who had seen what it was like to be Bryce's heir and take her responsibilities in the Southern Water Tribe, how respect was always so fragile, and how his family was ready to go against him as soon as his decision made them dissatisfied.
Clark had felt guiltily avenged to see Dick, in those early days, struggle in his new role, to experience a tenth of the hell that he himself had put his mother through.
Not that it meant much. Bryce was dead, there was no justice in the suffering of others.
"Damian might go crazy at the sight of the kid," Dick said softly. Who knows if he considered him a new younger brother or not. "Fine, I won't contact Barbara. But do you know how to convince him to come with us? Because I don't know if you've realized this, but the world is going to end if the Avatar doesn't do something. The Avatar is the only one who could defeat Vaatu again."
No, Clark didn't know. But he'll find a way. He had to.