Noah slowly opened his right palm.
He summoned his spiritual power and focused it on a single point. In his mind, he visualized his innate rank-zero spell model: Soul Fire. The fire elemental particles, scattered throughout the air in the room, began to converge toward his hand, drawn by the force of his will. They were tiny, invisible to the mundane eye, but in his spiritual vision they danced like orange sparks swirling in a spiral.
Then, instead of merely activating the spell model, he did something different. Something he had conceived during his hours of meditation.
He used his life force—his chi—to shape the gathered elemental particles, in the same way a bender shaped the elements present in the environment. His spiritual power gathered the particles; his life force gave them form and direction.
A ghostly blue flame ignited above his right palm.
—If I combine my spiritual power to gather elemental particles from the air and fuse it with the benders' ability to use their life force to shape the elements... —he murmured, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the room.
He closed his hand into a fist. The blue flame compressed for an instant and then shot toward the stone wall at high speed. But just before impact, Noah twisted his wrist. The flame changed direction sharply, traced a tight arc, and returned to his hand, where it perched docilely like a tamed bird.
—I can not only create a spell, but also control and shape it freely at will even after it has been released.
The implication of this discovery was monumental. Spells had always had a crucial problem: their rigidity. Once launched, they were like bombs; the caster lost all control over them and was left at the mercy of their initial trajectory. But with the teachings of bending, Noah could continue manipulating the spell after launching it, altering its direction, shape, and speed mid-flight. He could make a fireball pursue its target, make a water spear split into multiple projectiles, make a gust of wind change course to dodge an obstacle.
The possibilities unfolded before his mind like an infinite fan.
—This discovery could make my abilities take a qualitative leap —he continued, extinguishing the flame with a light puff of air—. And if I manage to master this practice using my chakra as an energy source...
His eyes, still closed, shone with renewed intensity. Chakra was a different energy source from spiritual power and ordinary life force. It was the fusion of both energies, flowing through the meridian networks of his body, and his reserves were far greater than those of a bender. If he could apply the principles of bending using chakra instead of ordinary chi, the scale and power of his techniques would multiply exponentially.
The stars rotated in the sky beyond the window as Noah returned to his meditative state, his breathing returning to the slow, steady rhythm from before.
Like him, another person was in a similar meditative state.
Aang sat atop the Tower of Unity, the tallest structure in Republic City, with his legs crossed on the cold stone and his hands resting on his knees. His eyes were closed, his breathing was slow and deep, and the material world had faded around him.
His consciousness slipped into the depths of his soul.
The spiritual space materialized around him. It was a luminous void, without walls or floor, where light seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere. Floating before him, in his red robes and white beard, stood Avatar Roku.
Aang brought his fists together and bowed in a respectful greeting.
—Avatar Roku.
—I am glad to see you again —Roku replied, his deep voice echoing through the empty space—. How can I help you?
—In your lifetime, did you ever hear of an ancient airbending master named Sonum?
Roku frowned slightly. His ancient, wise eyes drifted for a moment into the distance as he sifted through the memories of a life lived over a hundred years ago. Then he shook his head.
—No, I have not. But you have many other past lives to turn to. Perhaps one who lived further back in the Avatar cycle can help you.
Aang closed his eyes and brought his fists together again.
—Thank you, Avatar Roku.
The space dissolved around him, and Aang let himself sink deeper.
—I'm sorry.
—I have never heard that name.
—Sonum? Doesn't ring a bell.
—Not here.
Aang went from one incarnation to another like someone flipping through the pages of an old book. With each new refusal, Aang's frustration grew.
—Um... hello?
Aang suddenly found himself in a completely different spiritual space. The luminous void had vanished, replaced by an infinite expanse of golden sand that shimmered under an invisible sun. Endless dunes stretched in all directions, and the air was dry and warm.
—Is anyone here?
—Who summons Avatar Xion, who enjoys a vast wealth of knowledge?
A deep, imposing voice boomed from atop a mountain of sand. A giant shadow was cast upon the highest dune, silhouetted against the blinding light. The figure advanced slowly, with steps that made the sand tremble beneath his feet, and Aang squinted, trying to make out his features.
—Cough, cough, cough!
The figure coughed heavily. A cloud of sand rose around him, and as it dissipated, it revealed Avatar Xion's true appearance. He was not an imposing giant, but a short, scholarly-looking old man, with a bald head and round glasses perched on his nose. He wore ancient robes and held a fan in his hand, which he waved lazily.
—Hey, hello! —said the old man, and his voice was no longer deep and imposing, but shrill and whiny—. You seem like an Avatar from a time very far removed from mine.
Aang blinked, bewildered by the sudden change in atmosphere.
—Please, please, tell me about your era —the old man slid across the sand as if skating, his fan flapping with enthusiasm—. What's the current trend? Are sandals still in fashion?
—Uh... yes? —Aang replied, not quite sure what to say.
—Huh? Why? —the old man complained, waving his fan in exasperation—. After all these years, those horrible things are still in fashion. Open toes that let you see other people's crusty cuticles. It's disgusting.
Aang rubbed his bald head, completely out of his element. Of all the Avatars he had encountered, this one was by far the most peculiar.
—Anyway, I've come here through guidance —he said, trying to steer the conversation back on track.
The old man summoned a leafless tree that emerged from the sand with a dry crackle and sat down in its shade, fanning himself leisurely.
—You see, I was attacked. And I think it has something to do with an airbending master named Sonum.
—Sonum? That sounds familiar... —the old man scratched his head with the handle of his fan, squinting—. Sonum... Sonum... where have I heard that name before? Aha! Now I remember! Sonum was the youngest daughter of the owner of the corner market's chicken shop...
He paused and shook his head.
—Wait... that's my ex, Soniam, not Sonum. Ugh, if only she didn't have those long toenails... so disgusting.
Aang sighed, the frustration weighing on his shoulders.
—It seems this isn't going anywhere.
—Sonum... Sonum... Sonum... —the old man kept muttering, oblivious to Aang's disappointment, lost in his own thoughts.
—Well! Thank you for your time. I must continue my search —Aang said, bringing his fists together to take his leave.
—Oh! Now I remember! Sonum!
The old man suddenly turned around, his eyes gleaming with a lucidity that had not been there a moment before.
—You're asking about the legend of the Lost Avatar.