A sea of white stretched endlessly beneath them.
The skies above the Northern Water Tribe were cloudless, the air sharp and biting. Appa's massive wings beat rhythmically against the cold, his breath misting in the high-altitude chill.
Aang sat near the front of the saddle, silent. His hand rested on the carved staff across his lap, but his eyes were fixed ahead—watching the horizon. He hadn't spoken much since Taku.
Below, the great icy walls of the Northern capital shimmered like polished glass, a fortress built by generations of benders and blessed by the Moon and Ocean Spirits themselves. But even from here, something felt… wrong.
Katara leaned closer. "It's not just me, right?"
Aang shook his head. "No. The water's… vibrating. It's like the ocean is holding its breath."
Zuko sat across from them, scanning the city through a pair of war goggles. "There's a shield around the main palace. A dome of water. That's not standard defense."
Sokka tapped his map. "I've been getting reports from our Southern scouts. Entire fishing fleets disappearing. Coastal villages evacuated. Something's moving beneath the ice shelf."
Toph yawned, arms crossed. "I hate being up here. Ice doesn't talk like rock. Just squeaks at me."
Kyra sat near the back, meditating. Her eyes were closed, but her brow was tense.
"I felt a voice beneath the sea," she said suddenly. "A very old voice. One that doesn't belong in this world anymore."
Appa let out a low groan as they descended.
Below, figures in thick furs rushed out to greet them at the landing terrace—Northern warriors, led by a tall woman with white braids and a staff tipped in a crescent-moon blade.
"Master Arnaka," Katara said, hopping down.
Arnaka, a high priestess and waterbending matriarch, bowed deeply. "Katara. Avatar Aang. We're grateful for your arrival."
"We came as soon as we heard," Aang said. "What happened?"
Arnaka gestured toward the frozen bay.
"It began two weeks ago. A fissure opened beneath the ice, releasing heat and memory. Our benders tried to seal it, but something pushed back. Not physically. Spiritually."
Aang frowned. "Memory?"
"Yes," Arnaka said. "Visions. Dreams. Nightmares. One of our apprentices walked into the bay during meditation and never returned. And now…"
She hesitated.
"…we hear a voice beneath the tides."
Later that night, the team gathered on a cliff overlooking the Moon Pool.
The water here was sacred—touched by Tui and La themselves, glowing faintly under the starlight.
Aang knelt, dipping his fingers in.
He saw flashes instantly.
A city underwater.An army made of ice and bone.A voice whispering from below.
Not a threat.
A plea.
He gasped and pulled back.
Kyra opened her eyes beside him.
"It's not evil," she said. "It's forgotten."
Zuko knelt. "What did you see?"
Aang looked toward the ocean.
"A prison. Beneath the Northern Shelf. Holding something tied to the very first Avatar. Something that wasn't supposed to survive the Cycle."
Toph snorted. "Well that's just great. What kind of forgotten monster crawls out of a prison made by the spirits themselves?"
"Not a monster," Kyra said softly. "A memory. One too painful for even the spirits to bear."
The next morning, they descended into the fissure.
Arnaka had gathered the strongest waterbenders to help hold the path open. Aang, Katara, Kyra, and Zuko entered together—Toph and Sokka remaining above to coordinate and protect the tribe.
They traveled downward, through frozen tunnels laced with glowing runes.
Each step deeper, the air grew warmer—until it wasn't ice anymore, but liquid. Kyra formed a bubble of breathable space using shadowbending, encasing them in a quiet silence.
They reached the bottom.
What they found was a cavern of pure stillness.
At its center stood a crystal structure—shaped like a lotus, black as obsidian, carved with the Four Nation symbols… and one symbol Aang had never seen.
A spiral.
But not like the Veilborn spiral.
Older. Cruder. Etched in blood and time.
"It's a memory tomb," Kyra whispered.
Aang stepped closer.
The walls around the lotus shimmered with visions—silent figures of past Avatars, not moving, but screaming. Their pain was sealed in the structure itself.
And then—Aang saw her.
A woman inside the lotus.
Eyes closed.
Long white hair floating like silk in water.
Skin pale as bone, marked by ancient runes.
She was breathing.
Barely.
Katara gasped. "She's alive."
"No," Kyra said. "She's held alive. Bound by memory."
Zuko touched the wall.
A pulse echoed through the chamber.
And the woman opened her eyes.
End of Chapter 23
Next Chapter Preview: Chapter 24 – The First MirrorThe woman beneath the ice reveals herself to be the Memory of the First Avatar, a living echo preserved by the Spirits after she defied the natural order. As the team tries to uncover her past, the secrets she holds threaten to rewrite everything the world thought it knew about the Cycle, the Spirits—and the Avatar himself.