The Avatar's Will of Fire

Prologue: Farewell

"The war was over.

Against the greatest threat that the Elemental Nations' had ever faced, they had won, and Madara Uchiha was dead.

Too bad he wouldn't be able to enjoy it.

The Akatsuki War had raged for only one full year, but in that year, most specifically on that final, terrible night the war had ended, more people lost their lives than on any other day in the history of the Elemental Nations.

And seventeen-year old Naruto Uzumaki, shinobi of Konoha, was dying.

It was odd, now that he thought about it. For so long he had resisted death, fought so hard to ensure his and his friends' survival, but now that it was actually happening to him, now that Naruto knew he was about to die -there was not cure for chakra depletion, after all- he did not feel fear or sorrow, instead he only felt... content.

He had fulfilled his mission; to put the Akatsuki in the grave. Madara Uchiha was finally, truly dead. His friends, his family, were alive. They would -hopefully- mourn his passing, but in time, they would move on. Naruto would never accomplish his goal of becoming Hokage, but he could make peace with that. As long as the others were safe, he could die content, if not quite happy.

His part in this was over. The other villages would endure, rebuild. What was lost could be regained. Naruto himself did not exactly want to die, but if he did, so be it. He was not a Jinchuuriki anymore; Kurama had ultimately sacrificed himself so that Naruto could land the killing blow to Madara. As such, his chakra would not replenish itself.

And lying there, under a clear moon and star-filled sky on the ground of some nameless snow-covered valley in a Country whose name he didn't even know, Naruto Uzumaki's only thought was, beautiful, before he closed his eyes, and let the darkness take him for the last time.

0000

Naruto was confused; he knew that he was dying, but had not yet completely gone; he didn't even have enough strength left to move, so how was he standing upright? Better yet, since he was surrounded by nothing but darkness and couldn't even feel anything beneath his feet, how did Naruto know that he was standing? Or perhaps most important of all...

"Where the hell am I?"

As he tried to make out anything other than blackness, Naruto eventually caught sight of himself and had to fight back a gasp; he was healed! His clothes were still a mess; his dark shirt with orange trimming had numerous cuts all throughout is, his black pants were ripped and torn, his father's cloak absolutely ripped to shreds. But despite the damage to his clothes, his body was perfectly fine! No cuts, no bruises, no giant gaping holes where any of his major organs should be. His chakra supply had not recovered, but it had completely stabilized, at about one-fourth of his top strength.

As the war had raged, Naruto had sometimes wondered what death was like, if every person experienced their last moments in the same way or not. Normally, he would never be so insightful, but he felt that he could make an exception every now and then. But in all of his musings, Naruto never once thought that death would be like this...place.

"Where am I?" Naruto could hear an small echo-like effect to his words, nothing truly big, just enough to be noticed. Or maybe it was all in his head.

"You are at a crossroads, boy."

Okay, that was most definitely not in his head.

Turning to the direction that the unknown voice had come from, Naruto's eyes widened.

There, standing only a few feet away from him, was a man. The man was a little taller than Naruto, dressed in an odd, dark robe that covered his entire body. Strangely, the robe was somehow distinguishable in the darkness surrounding them; it appeared to be giving off an odd, otherworldly glow. However, this was not the feature of the man that stood out the most.