⠀ ⠀ ⠀ can you remember
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ who you were?
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . . . .
One hundred years ago, the Fire Nation took everything she held dear and obliterated it all, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. Nahuang vowed she...
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Once RYŪJI finally opened his eyes, he was suddenly overwhelmed by the harsh, bright light that beamed down on him, creating a stark contrast to the dark and gloomy atmosphere he had been in previously.
If that wasn't enough for him to believe something was amiss, looking around certainly was. Clearly, he wasn't on the cruiser anymore, that much he understood. In fact, Ryūji began to suspect that he had transcended the physical realm altogether. It was far too white and immaculate for that. Even the tree under which he sat seemed to emanate an ethereal luminescence. While Ryūji's knowledge of the spirit world was limited, it was evident that what he saw did not align with any descriptions he had encountered. That left the final possibility; the celestial realm.
'How did I end up in this place?' He tried to ask out loud. His mouth didn't budge, though. There was no sound, either. Ryūji tried a couple more times, but still nothing. Panic surged across his chest as he attempted screaming, laughing, gurgling — anything that might elicit even the slightest sound — but still ended up with nothing. At that moment, he realized something even more alarming.
He couldn't move.
Just like he tried to speak, he tried to move any part of his limbs, but they were stuck in the same position. Ryūji felt odd, his body tingling with a numb sensation. Was he dreaming? Did the necklace extend the effects onto him and put him to sleep? If so, why did he feel so attentive?
Eight men clad in flowing white silks and gleaming golden armor stride purposefully toward Ryūji. Although their stoic faces portray no emotion, their movements hint at underlying panic and concern. One of them pulls out a scroll and unfurls it, unveiling a portrait of a petite girl adorned in opulent royal attire and decorated with a bird-shaped symbol on her forehead.
"Hey, kid. Have you seen this girl?" he asked, pointing at the painting. "She should be around your age but a bit shorter. Her hair is a chestnut color."
No way. Is she — ?
"I haven't. Sorry, sir." Ryūji finally heard himself speak. Though, he sounded a lot younger than recently. Whatever this dream was meant to be, it turned him into a child. "I'll keep a lookout, though."
The guy who spoke gave a thankful nod. "Let us know if you see anything."
They all abruptly turned away and started marching in a different direction. Their presence exuded authority, reminiscent of high-ranking soldiers in a military force.
"Psst!" He turned his head instinctively towards the top of the tree above. Perched on a lofty branch was a young girl, no more than eight years old, matching the exact description he was given. Her soft, golden-brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, complementing her peach-colored robes as she gazed down at him. "Have they left?"
Ryūji glanced around the immediate area. All of the soldiers had vanished from sight, nowhere to be seen.
"They're all gone," he responded, internally cringing at the sound of his childish voice. "Why are you hiding up there? They seem pretty concerned about you. I think you should return to them."
