Storm

Chapter 18

 The doors creaked and the gears groaned as the air forced them to move after nearly one hundred years of stasis. It took longer than Storm thought it should have, kept her waiting, breath baited in anticipation as she wondered what could possibly be on the other side of the door--the only locked door in the whole temple.

She straightened from her stance, touching her necklace to calm herself. The smooth stone was cool beneath her fingers, and an image of Noriko's smile flashed through Storm's mind. It had been months since she'd been in Hira'a, but Storm would never forget the first friend she'd made in the human world. She smiled to herself, remembering the kind, gentle way Noriko had handled Storm's ignorance and bumbling mannerisms.

Looking back, Storm almost didn't recognize the girl she'd been--she had learned so much, traveling with Kai and the crew. She wondered how much more she would change in the years to come, where she would end up in the world of humans.

She fingered her necklace moving the stone against her throat absently. Slowly, the ancient doors began to slide open, revealing a dark hole beyond.

Excitement skittered through Storm and she stepped forward eagerly, wanting to know what secrets her ancestors had left behind.

As the light gradually infiltrated the room, Storm's excitement dimmed, just a bit. She didn't know what she'd expected, but this room was nothing more than a Hall of Statues--something she'd seen many times in the spirit world.

Storm moved slowly, trailing her fingers across each statue she passed. She knew many of them, all the faces of Raava. Some of them had gone into a sleep state in the spirit world, but a lot of them had not. They were faces she'd seen often growing up in the spirit world, voices and smiles and wisdom she knew.

Storm bent her knees a little, then jumped--as high as she could. She landed easily on a ledge, grasped the statue's arm to keep herself steady. Storm kept jumping, moving up, until she'd reached the top. Until she'd reached the worn, nearly unrecognizable statue of the man she was looking for: Avatar Wan. The first Avatar.

The statue was old, thousands of years old. The man it had once been a likeness of was so much more vibrant in her memory, and yet... she could still see her old mentor in the stone face. Though it was crumbly and a poor imitation, Nima could still feel his presence.

She laid her fingers against the statue's cheek, smiling fondly. "I'm having so much fun, Wan. The human world is amazing, just like you said." Storm felt tears press against the backs of her eyes, and she sniffled, still smiling. "I'll never get to see you again, and I'm... I'm sorry that I didn't say goodbye." She laid her head against the statue's cold shoulder, imagining Wan's arms wrapped around her comfortingly. "I'll never forget you. Never, sifu."

Straightening, Storm wiped her tears and smiled brightly at the statue. "I'll make you proud. I'll find Raava and I'll help Aang fix the world. I promise."

With that, Storm leaned backwards, toppling off the ledge gracefully. She fell down, arms outstretched like wings. The air rushed past along with the blurred faces of her dead friends, and Storm felt her heart sing with the promises that stretched across her horizon.

Just before she hit the ground, she spun, pulling the air around her in a protective bubble. It shattered on impact, sending gusts bellowing through the room. The statues seemed to whisper in the wake of it, and as Storm closed the doors behind her, she imagined she could hear what they were saying, as if the wind had reached all the way into the spirit world and come back again to bring her their words.

"Goodbye, Little Storm."