The sea stretched out endlessly before me, a shimmering blanket of blue and silver beneath the midday sun. I sat cross-legged on a small wooden boat, lazily drifting across the waves. A gentle breeze tugged at my clothes while I propelled myself forward with a casual flick of fire from my left hand, the bright jets hissing against the ocean spray. It wasn't the fastest way to travel, but it got the job done—and more importantly, it let me relax.
With my free hand, I passed the time sculpting miniature figures out of ice. A dragon here, a fox there, a crude attempt at a badgermole that kept melting before I could finish its ears. The cold shimmer of the figures glinted in the sun, little testaments to my boredom and increasingly ridiculous level of elemental control. It was peaceful—too peaceful, almost.
That's when I saw it.
Up ahead, near the coastline, smoke curled into the sky. My boat dipped slightly as I leaned forward, squinting toward a small beach. The unmistakable flashes of firebending and clashing weapons broke through the peaceful ambiance. Fire Nation soldiers—at least a dozen—fighting a small group of water tribe warriors. I recognized the style immediately. Sharp, fluid movements. Coordinated defenses. And the painted blue warships in the distance only confirmed it.
I was about to steer around it and continue on my way. After all, I had no stake in their conflict. But something tugged at the back of my mind. I narrowed my eyes. If I remembered correctly, this was around the time Sokka and Katara's father, Hakoda, should be in this region. He was probably among those fighting. And while I had no personal attachment to him, building goodwill with Team Avatar could make my life significantly easier down the line.
With a dramatic sigh, I muttered, "Guess we're doing this."
I spun the boat in a wide arc and aimed it straight toward the beach. As I neared the shore, I crouched low, channeling a precise blast of fire beneath my feet. The controlled burst lifted me off the boat, sending it skimming forward as I vaulted through the air. My landing was seamless, silent. The soldiers were too caught up in the fight to notice me. That worked to my advantage.
I adjusted my footing and launched another pair of small fire jets from my soles—something I had only recently taught myself. A technique that many firebenders apparently struggled with. I honestly didn't get why. It wasn't that hard. Just a matter of shifting your center of gravity and balancing the release of chi. Tricky, maybe. Difficult? Not really. It felt more like an instinct to me than a skill.
I landed just behind a group of Fire Nation grunts who had surrounded two water tribe warriors. Their opponents were flagging, one of them injured, clutching a wound on his leg. I didn't need to be a hero—just a problem for the people in red armor.
I inhaled slowly, letting the flames gather in the pit of my stomach.
Time to make an entrance.
The moment my boots touched the sand, the air changed. The crashing waves behind me were drowned out by the thunder of war cries and clashing metal. Smoke hung thick in the air, curling in lazy spirals, broken only by the flares of crimson fire from the Fire Nation soldiers.
They still hadn't noticed me.
Good.
I walked into the chaos with deliberate calm, my boots leaving darkened prints in the sand. The air around me shimmered, heat rippling from my body. When the first soldier turned and locked eyes with me, I tilted my head.
"Wrong beach," I said, raising a single hand.
With a snap of my fingers, a dark purple fireball exploded forward, catching the soldier square in the chest. He was flung backward into a palm tree, armor scorched black.
That got their attention.
"T-That fire...!" one stammered.
"Who the hell is that?!"
"Not your problem," I whispered.
They charged.
I met them head-on, launching forward with jet propulsion, twin blasts of fire erupting from my feet as I streaked across the sand like a comet. The first soldier swung a glaive—I ducked low, spinning on one foot and sweeping his legs out with a ring of dark flame. He screamed as the heat burned through his armor.
Another came at my back—he never made it. I flung out both arms, unleashing a Shield of Fire that encased me in a spinning wall of violet inferno. He staggered, blinded—and I punched through the shield with a fire blade, cleaving through his weapon and sending him flying.
More came. Too many.
I grinned.
I stomped the ground. Shatter Strike. A shockwave of black ice erupted beneath me, freezing a radius of sand and sending sharp, jagged shards skyward, impaling some and tripping others. One managed to dodge, only to get caught by my follow-up—Fire Whip—a lashing tendril of purple flame that wrapped around his waist and slammed him into the frozen ground with a dull crack.
Then came the firebenders.
Six of them, forming a circle, hands glowing with blazing heat. They began firing in sync—blasts of standard orange flame.
Cute.
I raised my hands, and with a twist of my body, performed a sweeping motion—Flame Redirection. Their fire curled around me, fed into my body like a circuit. I spun once—then roared, blasting a Charged Pressurized Fire Stream, a spiraling torrent of purple fire that blew three of them clean off their feet.
The other three hesitated.
Bad idea.
I clenched my right fist, gathering chi. Sparks crackled. My arm lit up with violet streaks of lightning.
Chidori.
The beach exploded in sound and light as I launched forward, my hand dragging across the sand with a screeching whirrrrrr. I blurred in front of the closest soldier and rammed my palm into his chest. Lightning howled.
BOOM.
He was gone.
I turned my wrist and released the energy, scattering condensed black lightning into the remaining two. They convulsed, limbs seizing as the electric storm swallowed them whole.
Still not done.
From the treeline, more soldiers appeared, reinforcements with heavy armor and war spears. I narrowed my eyes and took a deep breath. My breath misted the air.
Time for ice.
The sand beneath them turned black and glossy. Then it started creeping. Fast.
Creeping Ice. My custom version.
It surged beneath their feet before they could move, encasing them in black ice prisons, freezing them mid-step, mouths open in silent screams.
I raised my hands—and brought them down.
Omnidirectional Ice Wave. The ground split, jagged waves of black ice rising and crashing around me in a circle, tearing through everything in range. Palms, crates, armor—it didn't matter.
Silence.
The few who remained looked on in horror. My body crackled with black lightning, fire rippling around me like a living cloak, my boots surrounded by frozen sand. I looked like a specter. A storm in human form.
"Go," I said simply.
They did.
With the beach finally calm, I exhaled and let the fire recede from my skin, the cold breeze soothing the leftover heat. I turned just in time to see one of the water tribe warriors limping toward me.
"…Who are you?" he asked, wide-eyed.
I glanced at him, flicked the ice sculpture of a dragon out of my sleeve, and handed it over like it was nothing.
"Just someone tired of headaches," I said, already walking back to my boat. "Tell Hakoda I said hi."
And with that, I was gone—just a black mark on the sand and a wake of fire, ice, and lightning behind me.
I then land back on my boat and started another concentrated stream of fire heading north.
[Timeskip]
It had been days since I'd left Hakoda and his war band behind. If I was being honest with myself, I kinda regretted not talking to them more. Traveling alone had its perks—no one to slow me down, no one to argue with—but after a while, the silence got heavy. The only sounds were the rhythmic splash of the water against my wooden boat and the occasional crackle of fire whenever I used a little extra propulsion to speed things up.
Loneliness was starting to gnaw at the edges of my mind.
I had already passed Crescent Island a while back. I thought about stopping—paying my respects, maybe seeing if Avatar Roku's temple still held any lingering spirit energy—but I kept moving. I had a goal: I wanted to beat Team Avatar to the Northern Water Tribe. And not just for bragging rights.
Two reasons.
First, I wanted to meet Tui and La—the Ocean and Moon Spirits themselves. There was a strange pull inside me, something that told me seeing them was important, even if I didn't fully understand why.
Second, there was a more practical reason. If I could gain real waterbending by learning directly from the source, from the spirits themselves, it would complete part of the puzzle I was building. And once Aang finally showed up...well, there was Appa. The sky bison was practically a living library for airbending energy. If I could learn from him, even in small ways, it would bring me even closer to mastering the four elements.
It was a plan. A good one.
Or at least, it had been—until I noticed the ship.
I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts. About a mile ahead, cutting across the vast, open water, a ship churned westward, its massive crimson sails billowing against the horizon.
Fire Nation.
Of course it was.
I narrowed my eyes, calculating. From my rough estimate, I had passed the edge of Wulong Forest about two hours ago—the very same forest that would one day be the final battleground between Aang and Fire Lord Ozai. If that was right, then Roku's Island should be somewhere close by.
And if my memory was good, I thought grimly, Roku's Island should be collapsing into the ocean about now...
The timing was tight. I was only a few days ahead of Aang and the others, meaning the Spirit World's influence was already starting to ripple through the physical world. I could feel it in the air: a low, thrumming tension, like the world was holding its breath, waiting for the storm that was coming.
I leaned back in my boat, letting the fire under my palms die down to a low, smoldering hum. The blackened wood creaked gently under me. I weighed my options.
I could intercept the Fire Nation ship...maybe scavenge supplies, maybe send a message.
Or I could let it go.
After all, I wasn't here to rewrite every little event. My goal was bigger. Higher.
Besides, there were bigger things on the horizon. Tui. La. The Northern Water Tribe.
I smirked to myself, the dark fire in my veins pulsing with quiet anticipation, and angled my boat back on course, the northern lights barely flickering on the distant skyline.
Then, before I could even finish making up my mind, my stomach let out a loud, traitorous growl.
I sighed, slumping a little. Figures. My great destiny derailed by hunger.
Without wasting another second, I braced my feet against the wood, channeling a sharp burst of dark purple fire from my palms. The boat jerked sharply, turning toward the Fire Nation ship in a wide arc, the heat of my bending casting ripples across the surface of the water.
"Alright," I muttered under my breath, my voice barely louder than the crackle of flames, "you want food... fine. We're doing this."
Focusing, I extended one hand behind me and released a steady, concentrated stream of fire. The recoil pushed the boat forward at high speed, sending sprays of water in my wake. The wood beneath me groaned in protest, but I held firm, narrowing my eyes against the rushing wind.
The Fire Nation ship grew larger by the second, its black and red hull slicing through the ocean like a blade. They hadn't noticed me yet. Good.
As I hurtled toward them like a black comet, dark flames licking the air around me, I couldn't help but grin.
Looks like it's time to introduce myself.
The moment my boat slammed into the side of the Fire Nation ship with a crunch of splintering wood, I launched myself into the air, a spiraling stream of fire propelling me higher. For a heartbeat, I hovered over the deck, surveying the soldiers below.
At least a dozen of them, all firebenders, armored and already shouting in alarm.
And at the center of the deck stood a broad-shouldered man with silver streaks in his hair — a General by the look of the ornate crimson and gold armor he wore. His sharp eyes locked onto me instantly, filled with seasoned instinct.
Perfect, I thought, letting a smirk tug at my mouth. Finally, a decent warm-up.
With a roar, I dove, shooting a compressed spiral of fire toward the first wave of soldiers. Dark purple flames exploded around them, sending a few sprawling backwards, their armor smoking. The others recovered quickly, bending blasts of red fire straight at me.
I spun midair, carving blazing arcs with my legs, slicing through the attacks and sending fragments of their own fire slashing back toward them. I hit the deck in a three-point landing, the wood charring under my touch.
The soldiers charged.
I inhaled sharply, focusing. A wild pulse of energy lit up in my chest.
Fan the flame.
The air around me ignited, swirling into a protective inferno. Their fire attacks evaporated before reaching me, and I pushed the flames outward with a stomp, sending a shockwave across the deck.
One soldier tried to flank me — he didn't even get close. With a flick of my wrist, I lashed a fire whip around his ankle, yanked, and sent him crashing into the mast.
Another two came from my left. I spun low, unleashing blazing rings from my arms, purple arcs cutting the air like sawblades. They stumbled back, their armor scorched and blackened.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the General move.
Fast.
He hurled a massive charged fire blast at me — bigger and hotter than anything his soldiers could muster.
I redirected it smoothly with flame redirection, using a fluid, almost lazy spin, the purple energy wrapping around my arm before I hurled it back at him. The General crossed his arms, forming a shield of fire to block the attack, and when the smoke cleared, he was already moving again — charging straight at me.
For the first time in a while, I grinned wide.
We clashed.
The General's strikes were brutal, disciplined, every movement honed by years of war. His fists were like battering rams, bursts of flame exploding with each punch. I ducked a blow and countered with a fire blade, a crackling arc of compressed purple fire along my forearm, slashing at him. He caught it on his gauntlet, sparks flying.
He didn't flinch.
Neither did I.
We traded blows, fire and smoke swirling around us. At one point he grabbed my arm — mistake — and I released a pulse of Internal Destruction, sending heated chi directly into his armor. It exploded outward with a boom, knocking him back across the deck, armor plates splitting.
The soldiers tried to swarm me again, but I wouldn't let them.
I slammed my hands to the ground and sent a pressurized fire stream into the deck, the dark purple flames bursting out in all directions.
Omnidirectional chaos.
Screams echoed across the ship as some were blasted overboard, others thrown against the rails.
The General staggered to his feet, coughing, his armor cracked and smoldering. His expression was grim — but his fists were still burning.
"You're strong," he growled. "Who are you?"
I stepped forward through the smoke, black lightning crackling faintly across my shoulders, ice beginning to creep from the soles of my boots where I walked, freezing the deck solid beneath me.
"My name's Jinx," I said, letting my voice drop low. "And you're in my way."
The General roared, gathering everything he had for one final massive attack — a swirling fire vortex, raging around him like a hurricane.
I closed my eyes for a heartbeat, feeling the wild energy around me.
Dark fire. Black ice. Crackling lightning.
All mine.
When I opened my eyes again, they glowed deep purple.
I raised my hand and summoned Twin Fire Dragons, condensing twin streams of purple fire into snarling heads. They roared as they shot forward, colliding with the vortex in a titanic explosion that rocked the entire ship.
When the smoke cleared, the General lay unconscious, his soldiers either defeated or fleeing into the sea.
The deck around me was charred, cracked, and frozen in jagged patterns where my ice had spread.
I exhaled slowly, the fire and lightning fading from my body. My stomach growled again, louder than before.
"Right," I muttered, stepping over the unconscious General and heading toward the ship's galley, "priorities."
After the fight, the ship groaned and tilted slightly, damaged but still floating. The fires were dying out, leaving only the reek of scorched wood, burnt cloth, and ozone in the air.
I stalked through the corridors of the ship, half-guided by instinct, half-guided by the gnawing in my stomach.
Finding the galley was easy. It looked like the soldiers had raided a few merchant vessels recently—crates of dried meats, fruits, and barrels of rice and water stacked up inside.
I wasted no time, tearing open a sack of jerky and shoving a handful into my mouth. I could feel the salt and grease coat my tongue instantly.
"Finally," I mumbled, mouth full, as I tore through another crate, stuffing a satchel full of food.
But just as I was about to leave, a sound — a faint thud of metal on metal — caught my ear.
I froze.
It was coming from deeper inside the ship, behind a heavy steel door bolted into the lower hull.
Curious, I walked over, brushing my fingers across the door's surface.
Fresh. Recently secured. Reinforced with bending.
Something they really didn't want anyone to find.
A slow smile crept across my face.
"Well, now you have my attention."
I planted my palm flat against the door, focusing. Purple flames flickered between my fingers. I didn't need to burn through it.
I injected my chi instead — a whisper of Internal Destruction.
The metal trembled. Groaned.
Then, with a deafening CRACK, it buckled inward, a spiderweb of ruptured steel veins spreading out from my hand.
I shoved the ruined door aside.
Inside, a dozen Fire Sages flinched and backed away, shielding something behind them — rows of tightly bound scrolls and heavy chests.
Their robes were singed and dusty, fear sharp in their eyes.
The closest one, some elder probably thinking he could play hero, raised a trembling hand to stop me.
Bad choice.
I casually backhanded him across the face, my fingers sheathed in a thin layer of ice.
He flew like a ragdoll, slamming into the metal hull with a reverberating clang, and slid to the floor unconscious.
The other Sages immediately dropped to their knees, too terrified to resist.
I barely glanced at them. My focus was on the scrolls — the energy coming off them was unmistakable.
Ancient. Powerful.
I tore one open, scanning the flowing, elegant characters.
My breath caught.
Not just firebending techniques.
Earth. Water. Air.
These were the personal scrolls of Avatar Roku.
My hands moved faster, flipping through parchment after parchment.
Every technique. Every mastered art. Secrets to mastering multiple elements without needing to be reborn as the Avatar.
Notes on cross-bending techniques, on energy control, on spiritual flow.
And then —
I unrolled a thick, heavily sealed scroll, the edges still faintly warm to the touch.
The moment I read the first few lines, my eyes widened.
Lava bending.
Detailed.
Precise.
Explanations of how either earthbenders or firebenders could achieve it with enough spiritual control, even without the Avatar Spirit to guide them.
I stared down at it, stunned.
This...
This wasn't just knowledge.
It was power.
Freedom.
Freedom from the rigid systems of the Four Nations. Freedom from tradition.
Freedom to bend the world the way I wanted.
I tucked the lava-bending scroll carefully into my satchel, along with a few others that looked equally valuable.
The Sages watched silently, trembling.
I turned to them, raising one brow.
"You should thank me," I said lightly, slinging the bag over my shoulder. "You're all about to have a lot less to worry about."
I left the room with the heavy, satisfying sound of my boots echoing on the metal floor.
The ship creaked and rocked beneath me, but I barely noticed.
Outside, the sun was setting, painting the sky in blood-red and deep violet.
I stood at the bow, feeling the dark fire stir beneath my skin, the black ice thrumming under my boots, the static of lightning crackling faintly in my fingertips.
Ahead lay the Northern Water Tribe.
And beyond that, the future was mine to shape.
With a small grin, I leaned over the side of the ship and kicked off, using a burst of jet fire to launch myself back toward my boat, satchel clutched tight.
The world wasn't ready for what was coming.
But I was.
As I soared through the air, propelled by a jet burst of dark purple fire, my heart fell.
Below me, the remains of my old boat bobbed lifelessly in the water — shattered into driftwood and scorched debris.
I clicked my tongue. "Should've parked better," I muttered dryly.
Fortunately, not far from the crippled Fire Nation ship, I spotted one of their lifeboats — much larger and sturdier than my own old thing. Twice the size, maybe more.
I angled my flight, slowing just enough to land heavily onto its deck, the small metal boat rocking beneath me.
Grinning, I adjusted the satchel at my side.
A dozen meters out from the enemy ship, I glanced back over my shoulder, feeling a mischievous spark build in my chest.
Time for a proper farewell.
On the ruined main deck, the Fire Nation general — the same veteran I'd fought earlier — was stirring.
Groggy but defiant, the old soldier dragged himself to his feet just in time to see me standing tall on the lifeboat.
I lifted my hand — two fingers together — and gave him a slow, mocking wave.
His eyes narrowed.
Then, with smooth, deliberate motion, I rotated my hand so my palm faced him, fingers still extended toward the sky.
The general's instincts screamed too late.
With a crack of pure energy, a giant black ice spike erupted from the ocean beneath the Fire Nation ship.
It speared upward through the vessel's iron belly with a shriek of ripping metal, skewering the warship like a dragon swallowing its prey.
The ship shuddered violently. Soldiers screamed as decks split apart. Black frost raced outward from the wound, devouring heat, snuffing out fires, silencing the chaos under a tomb of spreading, crystalline cold.
On deck, the surviving firebenders stared in horror, slack-jawed.
One whispered, "Th-the Avatar... it has to be—!"
But the general barked, voice rough and full of fury:
"No! That is not the Avatar!"
He staggered to the ruined rail, glaring at the disappearing shape of my lifeboat, my fire-boosted sails already catching the wind.
"The Avatar is a boy! A child monk from the Southern Temple!" he shouted to the men, his voice cutting through their disbelief.
"Commander Zhao's reports, and the intel from the banished prince — they were clear!"
He clenched his fists.
"And monks... monks don't kill!"
His voice dropped, filled with a bitter weight.
"And I've never... never in all my years... heard of black ice."
The general turned back toward the wreckage with grim urgency.
The black ice spike — cold as the void between stars — was still spreading.
The air shimmered as it sucked the heat from everything nearby, causing the surviving soldiers to back away in terror as the cold gnawed at their armor.
"Ready the catapults!" he barked. "Fire on that spike! Break it apart before it swallows the whole ship!"
"And you!" — he rounded on the Fire Sages who were already trembling — "Write immediately to the Fire Lord. Tell him everything."
His glare darkened.
"Tell him about the one called Jinx."
Timeskip – Two Days Later
It had been two days since the brutal clash with the Fire Nation general. The adrenaline of battle had long faded, replaced with the quiet hum of my thoughts as I drifted further into the northern seas. I sat now, my legs crossed, the faint smell of saltwater mixing with the worn paper of the ancient scroll in my hands. My eyes narrowed as I read through the notes, my mind wrapping around the complex instructions Roku had left behind on lava bending.
The more I studied, the more I was fascinated — and surprised. Roku's notes weren't just about firebending, they explored the interplay of both earth and fire, two elements I'd never imagined to be so intricately linked.
Roku had meticulously detailed that lava bending could manifest in two distinct ways, depending on which element was being used as the base. If an earthbender was to wield the molten force of lava, they were essentially bending molten rock. The key difference? Earthbenders manipulated the solidified rock within the molten mass, using it to reinforce the molten flow's raw strength. The result was an incredibly powerful, blunt force, but limited in its versatility.
The firebender's approach, however, was different — more fluid, more adaptable. Firebenders didn't work with the rock itself; they bent the heat emanating from the molten rock, leaving little to no solid matter in their wake. The heat was the primary focus, with the molten rock merely a byproduct of the process. This allowed for greater control and versatility, almost like the fluidity of waterbending. Where earthbenders used their strength to force their will upon the rock, firebenders could change the temperature, shift the consistency, and manipulate the flow of the lava, much as a waterbender does with water.
But there was a catch. Firebending required a more intense focus on heat management — bending pure fire in the form of molten rock wasn't as instinctual or immediate as earthbending. Firebenders lacked the same raw power behind their lava, as the rocks that came with the molten flow in earthbending gave it its weight and force. But what firebenders lost in power, they gained in versatility.
Roku had even gone further, explaining how mastering lava bending would require a deep understanding of phase shifting — that crucial transition between solid, liquid, and gas that defined how an element could be bent. The technique wasn't easy, but Roku had pointed out that firebenders were more capable of adjusting the temperature at a rapid pace, granting them an edge in speed over earthbenders. Still, the earthbender's mastery over the element was more innate. They could sense the vibrations, feel the earth's pulse beneath their feet — an advantage in understanding the phase shifts needed to manipulate molten rock.
In the end, it seemed that the art of lava bending wasn't just about the strength of the elements — it was a delicate balance of power, control, and understanding of their nature. It was about knowing when to shift heat, when to listen to the earth, and when to let the flow guide you.
I sat back, letting the information sink in, already feeling the potential stirring within me. Lava bending was something I could master, especially if I harnessed both my firebending and the concepts Roku had written down.
But it wasn't just the lava bending that intrigued me. The idea of mastering all four elements — something Roku himself had once done — filled me with a sense of excitement. If I could master lava bending and one day unlock the ability to wield water and air as Roku had, I might just become something more than I could have ever imagined. Something far beyond any of the benders I'd encountered so far.
The scroll was filled with potential — and it was all mine to claim.