Chapter 20: She is Always There
Yogan sat in the cold, damp confines of his jail cell, his legs crossed in the lotus position, his back straight against the rough stone wall. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and decay, the faint sound of dripping water echoing through the corridor outside. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and deliberate as he tried to center himself amidst the chaos that had become his life. The events of the past few days—no, the past few weeks—played out in his mind like a relentless storm, each memory more turbulent than the last.
He thought of Rilo, his friend and ally, now captured by Shen and his men. He thought of Mariko, the woman he had trusted, who had betrayed him in the most intimate and devastating way. He thought of Nara, the woman he had loved, the mentor, the master, the woman who had been his anchor in the storm, and the woman who had left him behind. And then there was Kaiya, the fellow airbender who had once been his enemy but had become something more complicated and then once again became something like an enemy or not quite, something he couldn't quite define. His mind was a whirlwind of guilt, anger, and confusion, each emotion vying for dominance.
As he meditated, Yogan felt the weight of his failures pressing down on him. He had been reckless, impulsive, and naive. He had trusted too easily, fought too carelessly, and now he was paying the price. The world outside his cell was a mess, and he was at the center of it all. The responsibility of being Wan's successor, Raava's vessel—felt like a mountain on his shoulders, one he wasn't sure he could bear.
But as he delved deeper into his meditation, something shifted. The cold stone beneath him seemed to dissolve, the damp air of the cell replaced by the humid, earthy scent of a swamp. His eyes remained closed, but he could feel the change in his surroundings. The oppressive weight of the jail cell lifted, replaced by the familiar, almost comforting atmosphere of the Spirit World.
When he finally opened his eyes, he was no longer in the cell. He was standing in the middle of the swamp, the same swamp he had visited before, the same swamp where he had met Wan and Raava. The air was thick with the scent of wet moss and ancient bark, the ground beneath his feet soft and spongy. The trees around him were gnarled and twisted, their roots snaking through the murky water like the veins of some great, ancient beast. The light was dim, filtered through the dense canopy above, casting the swamp in an eerie, otherworldly glow.
"I guess I'm back again," Yogan muttered, his voice echoing softly through the stillness of the swamp.
"Welcome back, Yogan," a familiar voice replied, calm and steady.
Yogan turned to see Wan seated on a raised pedestal, his posture relaxed but regal. The pedestal was carved with ancient markings, symbols that Yogan didn't recognize but felt a strange connection to. Wan looked just as he had the last time Yogan had seen him—youthful yet ancient, his sharp, determined eyes and lithe figure a testament to his spirit's vitality. His dark hair was tied back, his robes simple yet elegant, the fabric shimmering faintly in the dim light. He looked like a man who had lived a thousand lives, each one etched into the lines of his face and the depth of his gaze.
"Why do I always find you in this smelly swamp?" Yogan asked, his tone a mix of annoyance and amusement.
Wan chuckled, the sound low and warm. "There's not much to do here besides wander around the Spirit World. I only get to this swamp when you're here. When you're not around, I'm off hanging out with the other spirits."
Yogan raised an eyebrow. "Hanging out with the other spirits? What, do you have spirit parties or something?"
Wan smirked. "Something like that. But it's not as exciting as you might think. Most of the time, it's just a lot of sitting around and talking about the old days."
Yogan shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. He looked around the swamp, taking in the familiar yet always unsettling surroundings. "Where's Raava?" he asked after a moment.
"Inside, as always," Wan replied, his tone casual, almost dismissive.
Yogan frowned. "What do you mean, 'inside'?"
Wan leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "Raava is always inside of you, Yogan. Just as she was inside of me when I was alive. We're her vessels, her avatars. She's always there, whether you're aware of it or not."
The realization hit Yogan like a punch to the gut. His eyes widened, and he took a step back, his mind racing. "Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me that Raava has been inside me this whole time? Even when I was… when I was with Mariko? Or Kaiya? Or even Nara? She was there? And when I was… you know, pleasuring myself? Or peeping on the girls in the baths? She was there for all of that?"
Wan burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the swamp. He doubled over, clutching his sides, tears streaming down his face. "Oh, Yogan," he managed to say between laughs, "your face is priceless!"
Yogan's cheeks burned with embarrassment and frustration. "This isn't funny, Wan! This is… this is weird! And creepy! And… and… I don't even know what to call it!"
Wan wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling. "Calm down, Yogan. Raava is a primal spirit. She's been around for millions of years, long before humans even existed. She doesn't have the same mindset that we do when it comes to reproduction and sexual encounters. To her, it's just… biology. Nothing more, nothing less."
Yogan crossed his arms, his expression skeptical. "That doesn't make me feel any better. You just called her a 'she,' Wan. That implies that there's a 'he' out there somewhere. Which means spirits must have sex, right? I mean, if there's male and female spirits, then they must… you know… do it, right?"
Wan's laughter died down, and he gave Yogan a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated. "Don't be ridiculous, Yogan. Raava is the Spirit of Light and Peace. She's not some… some lustful entity. She's beyond all that."
But even as he said it, Wan's expression faltered. He frowned, his brow furrowing as he considered Yogan's words. It occurred to him that Raava's characteristics—her voice, her mannerisms, her personality—all resembled what he would describe as female. Of course, her form was more ethereal, more ghostlike, with no humanoid shape to it at all. But still, the traits were there.
And then he remembered Vaatu.
Vaatu, the Spirit of Darkness and Chaos, had always been described in male terms. His voice was deep and menacing, his presence overwhelming and aggressive. Even his appearance—black and red, with sharp, angular features—was distinctly masculine. The contrast between Raava and Vaatu was stark, not just in their roles as opposing forces but in their very essence.
The thought made Wan's stomach churn. He had never considered it before, but now that Yogan had brought it up, he couldn't shake the idea. If Raava was female and Vaatu was male, then what did that mean for their relationship? Were they… partners? Lovers? Enemies? Or something else entirely?
Wan shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts. "This is getting way too philosophical for me," he muttered.
Yogan, meanwhile, was still reeling from the implications. "This is so messed up," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I've had… intimate moments with women, Wan. A few of them. And Raava was there for all of it? Watching? Listening? I mean, what the hell?"
Wan sighed, his expression softening. "Yogan, you're overthinking this. Raava isn't some voyeuristic spirit. She's a part of you, just as she was a part of me. She doesn't judge, she doesn't interfere. She's just… there. And honestly, after a while, you stop thinking about it."
Yogan wasn't convinced. "Easy for you to say. You've had centuries to get used to it. I'm just… I'm just starting to wrap my head around all of this. And now you're telling me that Raava has been there for every awkward, embarrassing, intimate moment of my life? That's… that's a lot to process."
Wan nodded, his expression sympathetic. "I get it, Yogan. I really do. But you have to understand that Raava isn't like us. She doesn't see the world the way we do. To her, your… experiences are just another part of your journey. They don't define you, and they certainly don't define her."
Yogan sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I guess I'll just have to take your word for it. But it's still weird."
Wan chuckled. "Yeah, it is. But you'll get used to it. Trust me."
The two of them sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the swamp filling the air. The distant croak of a frog, the rustle of leaves in the wind, the gentle lapping of water against the roots of the trees. It was peaceful, in its own way, but Yogan's mind was anything but calm.
He thought about all the moments he had shared with the women in his life—Mariko, Kaiya, Nara. Each one had been special in its own way, each one had left a mark on him. And now, knowing that Raava had been there for all of it, watching, listening, maybe even feeling… it was unsettling, to say the least.
But as he sat there, surrounded by the ancient, mystical energy of the swamp, he began to feel a sense of acceptance. Raava was a part of him, just as she had been a part of Wan. She wasn't there to judge or interfere. She was there to guide, to protect, to help him fulfill his destiny.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
The swamp seemed to hum with an ancient energy, as if the very world acknowledged the enormity of the moment. Yogan's journey was far from over, and the challenges ahead were greater than anything he had faced before. But as he sat there, with Wan by his side and Raava within him, he felt a spark of hope.
He wasn't alone. And maybe, just maybe, that was all he needed.
As Yogan sat in the swamp, the conversation with Wan still swirling in his mind, a sudden, ethereal white glow began to emanate from his chest. The light was soft yet radiant, casting a ghostly illumination across the murky waters and gnarled trees of the swamp. The symbols on Yogan's chest—ancient, intricate markings that seemed to pulse with life—lit up as if responding to some unseen force. The air around him grew heavier, charged with an energy that was both familiar and otherworldly.
From the glow, a voice echoed, smooth and melodic, yet carrying an authority that demanded attention. "Welcome back to the Spirit World, Yogan," the voice said, its tone warm but tinged with a hint of amusement. "It has been some time since I last saw Wan. I have longed for this reunion."
Yogan's eyes widened as the ghostly form of Raava began to materialize before him. Her appearance was just as he remembered it from their last encounter—ethereal and intricate, her body a flowing, luminous mass of white and blue light. Her form was elegant, almost celestial, with tendrils of energy extending from her body, swaying gently as if moved by an unseen breeze. The symbols on her form matched those now glowing on Yogan's chest, a reminder of their deep, unbreakable connection.
"Wait," Yogan said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "If you're here with me, weren't you with Wan too? How does that work?"
Raava's glow pulsed rhythmically, a sign of her amusement. "My energy still resides within Wan, as it always will. But I myself have long since moved on from him into his next life—your life, Yogan. I am bound to the Avatar, not to any single incarnation. Wan is a part of me, just as you are, but I am no longer with him in the way I am with you."
Yogan blinked, trying to process this. "So… you're like a cosmic roommate? You just move from one Avatar to the next?"
Raava's light dimmed slightly, her tone shifting to one of mild reprimand. "I am neither a roommate nor a mere passenger, Yogan. I am the Spirit of Light and Peace, bound to the Avatar to maintain balance in the world. And speaking of balance," she continued, her voice taking on a sharper edge, "I must address the nonsense you and Wan were discussing earlier. The idea of me being male or female is absurd. I am beyond such concepts. I am neither, and yet I am both. My nature is beyond your comprehension, and it is not for you to define."
Wan, who had been quietly observing the exchange, couldn't help but chuckle. "She's got a point, Yogan. Spirits don't exactly fit into human categories. Trying to label Raava as male or female is like trying to describe the wind as having a favorite color."
Yogan crossed his arms, still not entirely convinced. "Okay, fine. But you have to admit, it's weird. I mean, you've been inside me this whole time, and now I find out you've been… I don't know, watching everything? It's creepy."
Raava's glow brightened, her tone now laced with humor. "Yogan, I do not 'watch' you in the way you seem to think. I am a part of you, just as I was a part of Wan. Your experiences are your own, and I do not interfere. But if it makes you feel any better, I have no interest in your… escapades. Especially not the ones involving drunken coitus with a waitress."
Yogan's face turned bright red. "Hey! That was one time! And it wasn't… I mean, it wasn't that bad!"
Wan burst out laughing, clutching his sides. "Oh, spirits, Yogan. Your face is priceless! Raava, you really know how to hit where it hurts."
Raava's light flickered, a sign of her own amusement. "I can joke as well, Yogan. But in all seriousness, you should be focusing on mastering the other elements rather than indulging in such distractions. Your current predicament is a direct result of your lack of discipline."
Yogan groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, okay, I get it. No more distractions. But shouldn't Wan be teaching me the other elements right now? I mean, he's here, you're here—why not start now?"
Wan's laughter died down, and he shook his head. "Learning the elements and mastering them should come without my aid or Raava's, at least for now. Relying on us too much will only hinder your progress. You need to discover your own path, just as I did. Only then can you truly improve upon what I achieved."
Yogan sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Fine, if you insist. But how am I supposed to learn anything in the Spirit World? I don't even have bending here."
Wan nodded, his expression serious. "That's true. Bending in the Spirit World is only possible if you cross over with your physical body through the portals. Otherwise, you're limited to the abilities of your spirit form."
Yogan's eyes widened. "Wait, the portals? You mean the same ones you closed after sealing Vaatu in the Tree of Time?"
Raava's glow intensified, her tone now stern. "Yes, those portals. And you must never reveal their existence to anyone, Yogan. If Vaatu were to be freed, the world would descend into chaos far greater than it already faces. There is already enough imbalance—greed, corruption, and conflict plague the mortal realm. As the Avatar, it is your duty to restore balance and peace."
Yogan fell silent, the weight of Raava's words sinking in. He thought about the state of the world—the wars, the suffering, the greed that seemed to drive so much of human behavior. It was a daunting task, one that felt almost impossible. But as he looked at Wan and Raava, he felt a spark of determination.
"Alright," he said, his voice steady. "If I'm going to do this, if I'm going to restore balance, then I need to prove that I'm the real deal. I need to show the world that I'm the Incarnation of Wan. That means mastering all the elements, just like he did."
Wan smiled, a look of pride in his eyes. "That's the spirit, Yogan. But remember, this journey is yours. You'll face challenges I never did, and you'll have to find your own way through them. But I have no doubt that you'll succeed."
Raava's glow softened, her tone now gentle. "You are not alone, Yogan. We are with you, always. But the path ahead is yours to walk. Embrace it, and you will find the strength to fulfill your destiny."
Yogan nodded, a sense of resolve settling over him. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, but he also knew that he had no choice. The world needed him, and he couldn't afford to fail.
As the swamp around him seemed to hum with ancient energy, Yogan took a deep breath, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. He had a destiny to fulfill, and he was determined to see it through.
***
Yogan's eyes snapped open, the cold, damp reality of his jail cell rushing back to him. The ethereal glow of the Spirit World was gone, replaced by the dim, flickering light of a single lantern hanging outside his cell. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and decay, the faint sound of dripping water echoing through the corridor. He sat up slowly, his body stiff from hours of meditation, and ran a hand through his tangled hair.
The words of Raava echoed in his mind, her voice calm yet commanding. She had called him and Wan the Avatar, but Yogan couldn't help but feel the weight of that title. Wan was *the* Avatar, the first, the legend. Yogan was just… an avatar. A vessel. A successor. He wasn't ready to claim the title with the same confidence Wan had. Not yet. Maybe one day, he thought, he would call himself the Avatar with the same reverence Raava used. But for now, he was simply the avatar of Raava— with a lowercase, a work in progress.
As he sat there, lost in thought, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. Heavy boots clanged against the stone steps, accompanied by the murmur of voices. Yogan's eyes narrowed as he turned toward the sound, his instincts on high alert. The footsteps grew louder, and soon a figure emerged from the shadows, flanked by a group of men.
It was Mariko.
She stood at the front of the group, her once-innocent smile replaced by a vicious smirk. Her demeanor had changed entirely—the softness Yogan had once admired was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating edge. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of triumph and malice as she approached the cell, her men fanning out behind her.
"How was your night, Yogan?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. The tone was a far cry from the gentle, caring voice he had grown to love. This was a different Mariko, one he barely recognized.
Yogan leaned back against the wall, his expression blank. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of seeing him rattled. "I had a nice sleep, Mariko," he replied, his tone calm and measured. "Thanks for asking."
Her smirk faltered for a moment, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. She hadn't expected such a nonchalant response. "I think it's time we had a talk, don't you think?" she said, her voice sharpening. "You must be wondering why I did this to you."
Yogan shrugged, his face still devoid of emotion. "Not really. I figured it was either money or power. It's usually one of the two. You're not as special as you might think, Mariko."
Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer to the bars. "Well, money *is* power," she shot back, her tone defensive. "And I intend to have both."
Yogan raised an eyebrow, his expression still calm. "I don't have money, Mariko."
"But your family does," she replied, her smirk returning. "I used to hear stories about a powerful family of airbenders. A family that was hated by the air nomads for generations. Until a certain Wan brokered peace with them, and they were finally welcomed into the fold. The Shuji clan, wasn't it?"
Yogan's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He could feel the tension building in his chest, but he refused to let it show.
Mariko continued, her voice growing more confident as she saw the subtle shift in his demeanor. "All over the southern kingdoms, rumors spread of a particularly powerful prodigy airbender. Renji, they called him. The youngest to receive his tattoos at the tender age of ten. His name was known all over the southern coast and the water tribes. They called him the successor of the great warrior Wan, the next to master the four elements."
Yogan's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He could feel the anger rising, but he forced himself to stay calm. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him break.
Mariko's smirk widened as she saw the tension in his body. She was getting to him, and she knew it. "A few weeks ago," she continued, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "news spread that the very same Renji tried to overthrow the air nomad elders. But he was defeated—by his little brother. A boy by the name of Yogan."
The cell fell silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Yogan's heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his face neutral, his eyes locked on hers.
"Imagine my surprise," Mariko said, her voice low and deliberate, "when an airbender fitting that very name and description happens to show up in Daiyo. Tall, lean, with long flowing black hair and piercing black eyes. Sound familiar?"
Yogan didn't respond. He couldn't. His mind was racing, his thoughts a whirlwind of anger, betrayal, and disbelief.
Mariko leaned closer to the bars, her smirk turning into a cruel grin. "You are that very Yogan," she said, her voice cold and final. "Brother of Renji. Second son of the head of the Shuji clan."
The words hit Yogan like a punch to the gut. His eyes widened in shock, his carefully maintained composure crumbling for just a moment. He had tried to leave his past behind, to escape the shadow of his family and his brother's legacy. But now, here it was, staring him in the face.
Mariko straightened, her smirk triumphant. "You thought you could hide from your past, Yogan. But you can't. Not from me."
Yogan's mind raced, his thoughts a chaotic storm. He had been so careful, so determined to forge his own path. But now, it seemed, his past had caught up with him. And with it, a new set of challenges he wasn't sure he was ready to face.
With Yogan's eyes still wide in shock, the weight of Mariko's revelation settling over him like a heavy blanket. The journey ahead had just become infinitely more complicated, and Yogan knew that he would have to confront his past if he ever hoped to move forward.
[A/N: Can't wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on patreon.com/saiyanprincenovels. If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more, don't forget to drop a power stone! Your support helps this story reach more readers! So starting next month we gone go back to thrice a week chapters.]