Chapter Text
She was falling.
Her knuckles tingled with the phantom sensation of bone - of horn - splintering beneath her fist. The impact reverberated through her arm, past the angry red burns mottling her skin, and settled somewhere behind her sternum, where her heart beat just as fiercely.
Above her, two milk-white eyes stared into her own with a promise of retribution.
A fragment of divinity tumbled through the air beside her - flat, pale, and jagged where Sakura’s fist had broken it from Kaguya’s skull. A piece of a goddess, struck loose by mortal hands.
Proof that, for one impossible moment, Sakura Haruno had flown among gods.
Her heart soared.
Naruto and Sasuke moved as one, converging upon Kaguya from either side. Sun and moon. Two halves of an ancient story finally brought together.
Naruto Uzumaki - the Fourth Hokage’s son, jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails, reincarnation of Ashura Ōtsutsuki.
Sasuke Uchiha - prodigy, avenger, last survivor of a ruined clan, reincarnation of Indra Ōtsutsuki.
And Sakura Haruno.
Together, they could strike down goddesses.
Yet even as the seal took hold, even as the lone eye upon her forehead slid shut for the final time, Kaguya did not look at them. Not even for a second.
Her pale gaze never left Sakura.
Perhaps that was what compelled Sakura to reach out.
Her fingertips grazed the jagged edge of horn, and pride bloomed in her chest - brilliant and weightless - even as gravity dragged her toward the waiting earth.
Far below, the earth groaned. The shattered landscape buckled as enormous chunks of stone surged skyward, racing past her to entomb the Rabbit Goddess.
Naruto and Sasuke grew smaller - farther away.
Beyond her reach.
She did not hear Kakashi scream her name.
She did not see the inky, black maw of a dimensional rift opening behind her.
Triumph was still warm inside her when the darkness swallowed her whole.
She was falling.
❀
❀
❀
A searing flash of blue light - followed by a biting rush of cold - was what dragged Sakura out of the darkness.
She groaned, blinking uselessly as bright spots danced across her vision.
What the hell happened?
She tried to sit up, but the icy surface she laid on stung her bare hands and arm, causing her to flop back down. It felt like she went head-first through a concrete wall or three. She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned again.
“Hey - easy.” A pair of soft, mitted hands touched her shoulders, and she couldn't help but flinch.
“Katara! Get away from it!”
“Sokka, she’s a person - not an ‘it’.”
“You don’t know that! Have you ever heard of a person having pink hair?”
“Well…No… But—”
“No buts! Now stop touching it before—”
Sakura forced her eyes open.
Blue.
An endless blue sky stretched overhead, whorls of blue light dancing and weaving high in the heavens. Two figures in thick blue parkas hovered above her, their faces framed by white fur. Two pairs of wide, blue eyes. One looked worried. The other looked ready to stab her with a spear.
Kami, she was freezing.
“W…Where…” Sakura croaked, eyes darting between the two figures. “...Where am I?”
The girl's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Oh, good. You're awake." She slipped an arm around Sakura's back. "Here, let me help you sit up."
Sakura nodded weakly as the girl eased her upright.
“Thanks…” Sakura looked out across the desolate expanse of water and ice. She seemed to be sitting in a crater made of ice and packed snow. “What happened?” She murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
The boy folded his arms. “I think we're supposed to be asking you that.”
The girl shot him a look before turning back to Sakura.
"You were trapped inside the iceberg," she explained. "There was this... bubble around you, and it was glowing. I thought maybe you were still alive, so I broke through the ice.”
Sakura studied her while she spoke.
She was young - maybe a few years younger than Sakura - face still rounded with baby fat and eyes sparkling with curiosity and concern. She kept an arm braced around Sakura's back to steady her.
“As soon as I reached you, all that blue light just burst out. I've never seen anything like it."
Her eyes slid to the girl's companion. Slightly older, but still baby-faced. Fear and suspicion flashed across his expression. He looked ready to put himself between Sakura and the girl at a moment's notice.
Their clothes were unlike anything she'd seen in the Five Great Nations. Thick pelts layered over blue cloth, stitched for survival against the cold rather than armor. Foreign.
Dread settled heavy in the pit of her stomach.
“How are you not a frozen corpse?” the boy asked.
Sakura glanced at him. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
She reached instinctively for the chakra around her.
Nothing.
Her own chakra network was sluggish but intact, its pathways gradually stirring after whatever the portal had done to her. The two strangers, however, might as well have been empty space. She couldn’t sense even the faintest trace from either of them.
They were masking it. They had to be… Right? But doing so completely would require a high degree of control - and neither of them carried themselves like trained shinobi.
Sakura flared her chakra to dispel any genjutsu present, but nothing changed.
She then expanded her awareness, searching beyond the crater. There were no distant signatures. No animals beneath the ice. Nothing at all—
A faint pulse brushed against her senses and she looked down. Half-buried in the snow beside her was a pale, jagged shard.
Kaguya’s horn.
Sakura quietly curled her fingers around it.
“You’re at the South Pole,” the girl said. “Can you remember what happened?”
“Ah…”
She could remember plenty. Madara. The God Tree. An army of white creatures. Rifts being torn in reality.
Milky eyes staring down at her as the darkness swallowed her whole.
“I think I fell through a portal.”
She tucked the broken horn securely into her pouch before carefully pushing herself upright. Her legs trembled beneath her.
The boy stared at her with a flat look. “A portal.”
“Yes.”
“A portal,” he repeated, glancing meaningfully at his sister. “Right. I think the iceberg might have frozen part of your brain, lady.”
The girl sighed. “Ignore him. The cold got to his brain years ago.”
“Hey!”
Despite herself, Sakura smiled.
A sharp gust of wind swept over the crater, immediately wiping it from her face. She wrapped her arms around herself as the wind rustled the ruined sleeve of her turtleneck.
“Do you two live nearby?”
“We—”
“Don’t answer that!” the boy interrupted. He stepped between them and thrust his spear toward Sakura. Its tip stopped uncomfortably close to her face. “She could be a Fire Nation spy.”
The girl looked pointedly around the ruined crater. “Oh, sure. A Fire Nation spy who decided to hide inside an iceberg.”
“It’s the perfect hiding place. Nobody would look for her there.”
“Because she would be dead!”
“That’s what makes it so clever.”
“Fire Nation?” Sakura repeated, brows furrowing. The name sounded familiar and yet completely wrong. There was the Land of Fire, she never heard it referred to as Fire Nation before. These two certainly didn’t resemble anyone from the bordering nations she's visited.
She looked between them. “Are you shinobi?”
The siblings fell silent, and exchanged a bewildered glance.
“What’s a shinobi?” the boy asked. He appeared genuinely confused - the girl equally lost.
She’ll have to take that as a big fat no, then.
The girl seemed to notice Sakura’s growing confusion. She lowered the boy’s spear with one hand. “How about we start over?” she suggested. Pointing to her companion, she said, “The paranoid one is my brother, Sokka.”
“I prefer cautious.”
“I’m Katara.” She offered Sakura a tentative smile. “What’s your name?”
Sakura hesitated before returning it. “Sakura. Sakura Haruno.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sakura.” Katara’s expression softened, though curiosity remained bright in her eyes. “You said you fell through a portal?”
Sakura nodded. “I was fighting alongside my comrades against a powerful enemy - one who could open portals into other dimensions. I must have fallen through one and ended up here...” Her gaze traveled over the curved walls of the crater encompassing them in a semicircle. “... Although I have no idea how I ended up inside an iceberg.”
Sokka stared at her.
“Yeeeaah,” he said slowly. “No offense, but nothing about you really screams ‘fighter.’”
Katara frowned at him. “Weren’t you just accusing her of being a Fire Nation spy?”
“A spy, sure. Spies are supposed to sneak into places.” He gestured toward Sakura. “But look at her. She’s small, girlish, and” - his hand circled vaguely in the air - “pink.”
Sakura raised one eyebrow. “So?”
“So, warriors are supposed to look like warriors,” Sokka said. “You look like you’d have trouble carrying your own pack.”
Katara gave an incredulous scoff. “And what exactly is a warrior supposed to look like?”
“Not that.”
Sakura’s expression hardened.
She took one step toward him.
Sokka stiffened. His spear snapped up on instinct, the bone tip stopping inches from Sakura’s face.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then, without breaking eye contact, Sakura slowly raised one hand. She pressed the knuckle of her index finger against the spearhead, and flicked.
The carved bone shattered away from the shaft with a sharp crack. It shot across the frozen water and vanished into the distance.
Sokka’s mouth fell open.
He looked at the splintered handle in his hands.
Then toward the horizon.
Then back at Sakura.
“I—”
No further words appeared to be available to him.
Sakura continued to glare until she caught movement at the edge of her vision.
Katara had stepped backward. The easy concern had vanished from her face and had been replaced with caution. She moved closer to her brother, putting herself closer to the water at the crater’s edge.
They were afraid of her.
Sakura’s brows pinched together and her anger evaporated.
“No - ugh. Sorry.” She immediately raised both hands, palms open. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Sokka clutched the remains of his weapon against his chest. “This was my favorite spear…”
Sakura winced. “Sorry. I don’t mean either of you any harm,” Sakura said. “And I really don’t want to be here. I just…” She worried her lower lip, glancing again at the walls surrounding them. “I don’t know how to leave.”
Katara studied her for a long moment. “You really don’t know where you are?”
Sakura shook her head. “You said this was the South Pole, but I’ve never heard of a country by that name. I don’t recognize your clothes, your weapons, your hairstyles… And neither of you know what a shinobi is.”
Sokka shook himself free from his shock. “Well what is it then?”
She paused to think of an apt descriptor. “A shinobi is like a warrior where I come from.”
“Which is conveniently in another dimension.”
“Sokka,” Katara warned.
“What? I’m keeping track of the story.”
Katara looked back at Sakura. She was still wary, but curiosity had begun to edge out her fear. “The light around you looked like something out of a spirit story,” she admitted. “And people don’t usually survive frozen inside ice.”
“Exactly,” Sokka said. “Which means she could be an evil spirit.”
Katara rolled her eyes. “That isn’t what I meant.”
Sakura shivered as another gust of wind swept through the crater. She folded her arms tightly across her chest. Katara noticed her discomfort. “We can figure out what happened once we get back to the village,” she said. “You need somewhere warm.”
Sokka’s head whipped toward her. “We are not bringing the possibly evil, spear-breaking spirit girl home.”
“She’s freezing!”
“She was frozen for who knows how long. Maybe she likes it.”
“I don’t,” Sakura said through chattering teeth.
Katara pointed at her. “See?”
“That doesn’t change my answer.”
Another gust swept over them, stronger than the last. Snow hissed along the ice.
Sakura glanced toward the top of the crater. “How far away is your village?”
Katara turned toward the opening in the ice - then stopped.
Sokka followed her gaze.
Their canoe was nowhere in sight. Only a few splintered pieces of wood floated in the water some distance away.
Katara grimaced. “Right.”
Sakura looked between them. “You had a boat?”
“We had a perfectly good canoe,” Sokka said, “before somebody decided to start playing with magic water.”
Katara rounded on him. “Don’t blame me! You’re the one who steered us into the ice!”
“Only because you distracted me!”
Sakura narrowed her eyes against the glare of the mid-afternoon sun. Far beyond the broken water, she could just make out the pale edge of a solid ice sheet along the horizon.
“How far is your village?” She asked again.
The siblings paused mid-argument.
Sokka lowered his hands. “It was about half a day by canoe and some walking.”
Katara looked toward the distant ice. “We just need to get off this floe. Maybe I can—”
“I’m going to stop you there, dear sister,” Sokka interrupted, gesturing broadly at the iceberg beneath their feet, “and remind you what happened the last time you decided to waterbend.”
Katara’s face tightened. “Fine. But I don’t see you coming up with any brilliant ideas.”
Sakura closed her eyes.
Her chakra reserves were low. Some of what remained was already circulating through her body, keeping the cold from settling too deeply into her muscles. Even so, she had enough for several hours of travel.
Probably. Hopefully.
She opened her eyes. “I think I can get us back to your village. I just need someone to show me the direction.”
Sokka stared at her. “What, are you going to tell us dimension travelers can fly?”
The corner of Sakura’s mouth twitched.
Katara leaned toward her. “Really?”
“Really,” Sokka echoed flatly.
“I haven’t learned how to fly,” Sakura said. “But we don’t need to.”
Sokka pointed toward the dark water surrounding them. “In case you haven’t noticed, that ocean is freezing. We’ll die if we try to swim through it.”
“I figured.”
“So what’s your plan?”
Sakura looked from him to Katara. “Are you both comfortable with being carried?”
They stared at her.
Katara recovered first. “I mean, if it gets us home…”
“No.” Sokka backed away. “Absolutely not. I am not letting the crazy spirit lady carry me anywhere.”
Katara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Would you rather stay here and get eaten by a polar leopard?”
Sokka glanced around the empty ice, tallying his very limited options.
His shoulders sagged.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Fine. Whatever.”
Sakura motioned them closer.
Once they were within reach, she bent, hooking one arm securely around the backs of their upper legs, and lifted them from the ground as if they weighed nothing.
Both siblings shrieked. Katara grabbed at Sokka’s parka. Sokka flailed for balance and nearly struck her with the remains of his spear.
“A little warning would have been nice!” he shouted.
Sakura adjusted her grip, entirely unbothered. “Which way is your village?”
Katara blinked down at the crown of pink hair. “Um…” She pointed toward the distant ice sheet. “That way.”
Sakura walked toward the edge of the iceberg.
Katara’s grip tightened.
Sokka went rigid. “Wait. Wait, what are you—”
Sakura stepped off the ice. Her sandal touched the surface of the ocean and remained there.
She took another step.
Then another.
Small ripples spread beneath her feet as she continued across the water at an ordinary walking pace.
For several seconds, neither sibling spoke.
Katara twisted around as far as Sakura’s grip allowed, staring down at her feet. “You’re standing on the water.”
“Yup.”
“Are… Are you a waterbender?”
“I don’t know what that means.”
Sokka looked from Sakura, to the water, and then resolutely at the horizon.
“No,” he said.
Sakura glanced up at him. “No?”
“No. People don’t walk on water.”
“You can literally see me doing it.”
“I’ve decided you aren't real.”
Sakura rolled her eyes, and turned her attention to her other passenger.
Katara’s face was lit with wonder. “How are you doing that?”
“Chakra control.”
“Another fake word from the not-real person,” Sokka muttered under his breath, and both girls chose to ignore him.
“What's that?” Katara asked.
“Hmm…” Sakura considered how best to explain it. “It’s a type of energy produced inside the body. Shinobi learn to direct it and use it in different ways. Right now, I’m concentrating chakra in the soles of my feet and adjusting it constantly so the water supports my weight.”
“Using some special kind of energy to manipulate water sounds an awful lot like waterbending…” Katara murmured, deep in thought.
Sakura turned her focus toward the distant ice sheet. “Are you two alright with me picking up the pace?”
The siblings exchanged a glance.
Katara shrugged. “Sure.”
Sokka narrowed his eyes. “How much faster?”
The corner of Sakura’s mouth lifted.
“Brace yourselves.”
She gave them a few moments to tighten their grip on each other.
And then she was off.
Their combined shriek tore across the frozen sea.
Sakura bounded over the water in long, effortless strides, each footfall sending a burst of spray skittering across the surface behind her. The icy wind battered them as the iceberg rapidly receded into the distance.
Sokka clung to Katara with both arms.
“Too fast!” he shouted.
Katara’s initial terror quickly dissolved into exhilaration. A laugh escaped her, bright and breathless, and she threw her free arm into the air.
“Faster!”
And despite herself, Sakura laughed.
There was something infectious about Katara’s delight. To Sakura, this speed was trivial - a pace shinobi maintained for hours while traveling between villages. To Katara, it was apparently the most exciting thing she had experienced in her life.
The thought lifted some of the exhaustion weighing on Sakura, and a tiny kernel of hope began to take root.
Maybe everything would be all right.
Eventually.
They reached the ice sheet within minutes, but Sakura kept carrying them. Traveling over the snow required more concentration than the water had; its shifting, uneven surface forced her to adjust her chakra with every step to keep from sinking.
It was still considerably faster than making the two teenagers walk.
Sokka’s directions became increasingly strained as they continued.
“Left!”
Sakura veered left.
“No, my left!”
“Your left is the same as my left.”
“Then the other left!”
“You mean right?”
“I know what I mean!”
Katara leaned closer to Sakura. “He does this even when we’re in the canoe.”
A little over half an hour after leaving the iceberg, the first snow-covered structures appeared in the distance.
The moment Sakura stopped, Sokka wriggled free of her grip. He dropped into the snow and spread himself across it with a relieved groan.
“Sweet, sweet solid ground.” He pressed his cheek against the frozen surface. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
Katara was placed down more carefully. She and Sakura exchanged a glance before dissolving into giggles.
“I can hear you,” Sokka muttered into the snow.
The settlement was smaller than Sakura had expected - smaller than some isolated farming communities in the Land of Fire. Barely thirty people emerged from the snow-covered huts to greet them, drawn out by the children’s excited calls.
Sakura felt their attention settle on her immediately.
She couldn’t blame them. Even without the torn clothing and dried blood, her hair alone made her stand out among the sea of blue parkas.
As Katara hurried forward to explain, Sakura studied the gathering.
Women. Children. A handful of elders.
No men of fighting age.
It was an absence that went beyond coincidence. Either the village had recently suffered some kind of catastrophe, or its fighters were somewhere else.
Sakura reached out with her senses once more.
Nothing answered her.
Not from Katara or Sokka. Not from the curious children peering around their mothers’ coats. Not from any of the villagers surrounding her.
No chakra signatures at all.
Either every person in the settlement possessed a level of concealment that would have shamed an ANBU operative - or there truly was no chakra here for her to sense.
Sakura forced herself to breathe evenly. She had suspected as much, but having it confirmed did little to settle the anxiety twisting through her stomach.
An older woman introduced as Kanna - though she quickly insisted that Sakura called her Gran-Gran - took charge before the villagers could overwhelm Sakura with questions.
“You can all stare at our guest after she’s warm,” Gran-Gran declared. “Katara, bring her inside.”
Sakura was ushered into a communal igloo roughly the size of one of the classrooms at Konoha’s Academy. A low hearth occupied a raised platform in the center, filling the room with blessed warmth. Snow had been packed into smaller platforms around the perimeter, each one softened beneath layers of hides and thick furs.
Gran-Gran guided Sakura toward an unoccupied space near the back.
The moment she sat down, several blankets were thrown over her shoulders. Someone pressed a steaming bowl into her hands soon after.
Sakura stared down at the thick broth. Chunks of meat and dark vegetables floated near the surface - none of which she recognized, but at that moment she couldn’t have cared less what they were. She dug in with gusto.
The first bowl disappeared before she properly tasted it. Halfway through the second, she heard a laugh poorly disguised as a cough.
Sakura glanced up.
Sokka abruptly became fascinated with his own food. Katara had one hand pressed over her mouth, though her dancing eyes betrayed her.
Heat crept into Sakura’s cheeks.
“Sorry.” She glanced down at her bowl. “I-I haven’t eaten anything except a soldier pill in days. This soup is delicious.”
Gran-Gran watched their guest with a calculating gaze.
Sokka looked up. “What’s a soldier pill?”
“It’s a type of medicine shinobi use to restore energy quickly,” Sakura explained. “I had to take one before we faced Kaguya.”
Katara lowered her bowl. “That’s the enemy you mentioned? The one who could open portals?”
Sakura nodded.
Katara glanced toward Gran-Gran and Sokka before returning her attention to Sakura.
“Can you start from the beginning? Tell us what happened to you?”
Sakura curled both hands around her bowl, absorbing its warmth and letting it comfort her.
“To keep it simple… A man in my world tried to trap everyone in an illusion. Instead, his actions led to the resurrection of an ancient goddess named Kaguya.”
Sokka slowly lowered his spoon.
“This is the simple version?”
Sakura winced. “Unfortunately.”
“Go on.” he sighed.
“Kaguya trapped almost everyone in the roots of a massive tree,” Sakura continued. “My team was among the few people left who could fight her. She had a number of dangerous abilities, including the power to open portals into other dimensions.
“We managed to land the final blow,” Sakura said. “But before Kaguya was completely sealed, she must have opened another portal beneath me. I fell through it, and…”
She gestured vaguely toward Katara and Sokka.
“You two know the rest.”
Silence settled over the platform.
Sokka blinked.
“Right,” he said at last. “Simple.”
Sakura gave a small shrug and returned to her soup.
Sokka leaned forward. Skepticism remained written across his face, but something more serious had entered his voice.
“So what does that mean for us?”
Katara frowned. “For us?”
“Well, either she’s lying - which is still my leading theory - or an angry, dimension-hopping goddess knows where we live.” His eyes narrowed. “Is there any chance Kaguya could come through another portal and find you?”
Katara opened her mouth to scold him, but Gran-Gran spoke first.
“That is a fair question.”
Sokka pointed at her triumphantly. “Thank you!”
Sakura shook her head. “My teammates would have finished sealing her. Kaguya won’t be coming after me.”
She was certain of that much. Naruto and Sasuke had both made contact, and Kaguya’s third eye had fully closed by the time she fell into the portal. Kakashi-sensei was still there to make sure they finished what they had started.
They had won.
They had to have won.
“As for me…” The words caught in Sakura’s throat.
She still hadn’t fully processed what had happened. She didn’t know where she was, how long she was stuck in that iceberg, or whether a connection to her own dimension even existed.
For one awful moment, despair sank its claws into her stomach.
Then she remembered the hard shape tucked safely inside her pouch.
The broken piece of Kaguya’s horn. Proof that the battle had been real. Proof that Sakura had survived it. Proof that her hard work and determination led her to fight side by side with her teammates.
Sakura Haruno had never been known for surrendering without a fight.
She looked up and gave them a small, tentative smile.
“I’ll just have to find a way back.”
Gran-Gran regarded her quietly for a moment.
“Then you can begin looking tomorrow,” she said. “Tonight, you will eat, get warm, and rest.”
Sakura looked down at the bowl in her hands.
For the first time since arriving in this world, she allowed some of the tension to leave her shoulders.
“Thank you.”
࿓༄˖°⁀જ.ೃ࿔ *:･
Somewhere beyond the physical world, a young boy stirred.
Something large and damp nudged insistently against his cheek.
“Mmph… five more minutes, Appa.”
The nudging became a shove.
The boy rolled onto his back and opened his eyes.
A canopy of enormous, dense foliage twisted overhead - their branches curling against a sky washed in violet and gold. Pale lights drifted between the trees like fireflies, though some of them had tiny faces and fluttering ears.
Several small creatures had gathered around him. One leaned close enough that its whiskers tickled his nose.
He sneezed.
The creatures scattered into the undergrowth with a chorus of startled chirps.
He sat up quickly. “Wait! I didn’t mean to scare you!”
Beside him, the sky bison gave a low, uncertain rumble.
The boy’s smile faded.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I don’t know where we are either.”
He climbed to his feet and brushed leaves from his bright-colored tunic. Neither he nor his companion seemed to be injured. The last thing the boy remembered clearly was the storm - the waves crashing over them, the cold swallowing everything, and a brilliant light pouring from his tattoos.
After that, nothing.
The young boy and his bison wandered for what might have been minutes or hours. Time felt strange in this place. Shadows shifted without the sun moving, and paths seemed to change whenever he looked away.
The little creatures - spirits, he recognized - eventually returned.
They followed at a cautious distance at first, peeking from behind roots and broad leaves. When the boy offered them a smile, they crept closer. Before long, a procession of them was leading the boy and his bison through the forest.
Their journey ended in a quiet grove filled with slender silver-barked trees. Round, pale fruit hung from their branches, glowing faintly in the dim light.
“Moon-peaches!” The boy exclaimed.
The spirits chittered excitedly and scrambled into the trees. Ripe fruit began raining down around them.
The boy laughed as his companion opened his mouth and caught several at once.
“Hey! Save some for me!”
They settled beneath the trees and ate until the boy’s stomach ached pleasantly. The spirits gathered nearby, watching with bright, curious eyes. The boy turned a peach pit between his fingers.
“What do you think we should do, Appa?”
The sky bison grumbled around a mouthful of fruit.
“Yeah. Me neither.”
The boy pulled his knees against his chest.
“The monks are probably worried by now.” His voice dropped. “Gyatso’s probably looking everywhere for us.”
The bison shifted closer, pressing his broad head against his side, and the boy rested a hand against his fur in turn.
“I shouldn’t have run away,” he murmured.
A branch snapped at the edge of the grove.
The sky bison immediately raised his head. A low growl vibrated through his chest as the small spirits vanished into the trees. The boy scrambled to his feet.
A massive red head emerged from the undergrowth.
The creature stepped into the grove, long and serpentine, its crimson scales gleaming beneath the strange violet sky. Two curling whiskers framed a mouth filled with sharp teeth. Its shining, yellow eyes settled upon the boy with an intelligence that made him feel as though he were being carefully weighed.
A dragon.
For a long moment, neither side moved.
Then—
Light began to gather beneath its scales. A pale blue glow spread along the dragon’s body, tracing the ridges of its snout and the length of its coiling form. Its solid outline softened, becoming translucent and ethereal. The surrounding grove shone through it as though the creature were made from moonlight reflected upon water.
The dragon reared its head and fog poured from between its jaws, engulfing the massive creature.
The boy began to glow, as well - the arrows visible on his forehead and hands flashed brightly without warning. He scrunched his eyes shut at the sudden brightness. The sky bison gave a startled roar, shuffling beside him.
The boy opened his eyes a moment later, and sent a gust of air to clear the fog.
To his surprise, an old man now stood where the dragon had been.
His form was washed in a spectral blue. He wore layered robes of a deep color, fastened in the style of the Fire Nation. White hair framed a stern but dignified face, and a neatly trimmed beard fell over his chest.
Despite the strangeness of his appearance, there was something familiar about him.
The old man’s gaze settled on the boy.
His expression was kind, but worry tightened the corners of his eyes.
“You are not supposed to be here, Avatar Aang.”