The Eternal Flame (ATLA)

Chapter 8: Northern Invitation

It was past midnight by the time Kira returned to the palace. She stepped inside her room, lighting the lanterns with a blink of her eyes. Jia had laid out a pair of sleeping clothes. Kira slipped out of her robes and pulled on the sleep wear. It was the kind of soft, expensive silk that Kira had told Jia countless of times that she didn't need.

Kira slipped into bed. She felt a small lump next to her hip. She pulled it out, gentle squishing the cheeks of a doll between her thumbs. It was a small raggedy thing that had stood the test of time, and the mental breakdowns of a very young girl. Jia always shook her head at when Kira insisted for her to keep it on the pillows of the bed when she cleaned.

"We can get you a better doll!" Jia had always said. But it was always this doll. The one that her mother had given her, even if her mother no longer wanted her.

The doll had since grown smaller in Kira's hands. Even if Kira was just thirteen, her growth spurt was sudden and violent. She had her family's genetics, tall, spindly limbs, pointed chins and sharp jawbones. Lean muscle rippled beneath the surface. Kira's hands, although weathered by blood and beatings, were rather slender and delicate. She now held the doll's head in her hand, observing the worn red robe it had on, staring into the two beads that it had for eyes.

Slowly, Kira gave the doll a gentle squeeze. She slipped underneath the blanket, tucking the doll in next to her. She tapped a finger to the small arm of the doll, closing her eyes.

The silk blanket was soft. A gentle wind from an open window wafted the smell of jasmine through the room. But as the scent pulled her under, Kira knew that something else awaited her.

She landed in a pile of leaves. The smell was something wild, open grass, open rain. Her eyes opened. She sat up and looked around. The sky was a cascade of faded colors, streaking across like paintbrush strokes. The clearing was empty, only covered in tall grass, with a few scattered trees bending gracefully around. Kira knew this place. Her dragon spirit had pulled her here on many occasions.

"When will you stop pulling me here?" Kira stood up, a little sour. "You know that I don't get any sleep hanging when I'm in the Spirit World."

A large, white dragon appeared in front of her, coiling and flapping it's large wings. Red lines cascaded down its back, extending to the wings like the veins of a volcano. Its eyes were milky white, blind-like, but they constantly glowed, even in the faint light of dawn.

You know why I'm here. Ryu echoed in Kira's head.

"Is this about the Avatar?"

We must hurry.

Kira sighed. She rubbed her temples.

"If I could, I would already be out and about trying to find him, but it doesn't help that Zuko and now Zhao of all people are also trying to track him."

Ryu only flapped its wings, unimpressed. It didn't care about the idea of social struggles between humans. It had a sense of duty, a sense of destiny, like it knew what would happen in the end. But Ryu never told Kira more than it wanted to. She used to try to pepper Ryu with questions, but the dragon would fall silent if it no longer felt like talking. Kira was annoyed that most of their conversations started on Ryu's terms, but it was hard to fight a voice in her head that took the form of a giant dragon.