It didn't take long for Jinx to shake off the shock of bending water for the first time. His heart still hammered, but his mind—sharp and practical—was already cataloging the scene before him. Over a dozen waterbenders stood between him and freedom, their hands raised, water swirling at their command like serpents ready to strike. And at the center of it all, like a glacier that refused to melt, stood Grandmaster Pakku.
Even Jinx wasn't arrogant enough to think he could leave unscathed. Not here, not now. Yes, he had his black ice, his magenta flames, even his lightning—deadly tools sharpened to perfection. But this was their home turf. He could feel it in the ground beneath his boots, the canals, the walls of ice around him: this was the Northern Tribe's domain. For all his raw power, he had no idea what traps or tactics they had prepared for an intruder like him.
Two options unfolded in his mind as clearly as the night sky above: fight or surrender. To fight meant unleashing everything, carving a bloody path through their defenses—he could already picture the chaos, the destruction, the corpses. He would win, but he would also lose: his secrecy, his chance at learning, perhaps even his life.
But surrender… surrender could be twisted into advantage. His lips curved faintly. He had come here hoping to master waterbending, to understand this element as deeply as he had fire and ice. If he let them take him, if he endured their chains and judgment, it might open doors violence could never touch.
Decision made, Jinx raised his hands slowly. "Alright," he said with a dry laugh, violet eyes gleaming under the moonlight, "you've got me. But don't think for a second I couldn't have burned this whole place to the ground if I wanted."
The waterbenders stiffened, caught between suspicion and unease at his confidence. Pakku narrowed his eyes, studying Jinx as though trying to read the truth from his soul. And Jinx, calm now, lowered his gaze, knowing full well that in this game, patience—not fire—would be his sharpest weapon.
Jinx let the silence stretch after his words, his hands still raised, fire simmering just beneath his skin. Around him the waterbenders exchanged uneasy glances. Some looked ready to lash out, others seemed almost afraid to test the strange youth who had so casually bent fire, ice, and even water in the span of a single fight. The canals still rippled from where he had instinctively drawn liquid to his defense.
Pakku stepped forward at last, his posture straight and uncompromising, but his eyes sharp with curiosity. "Bind him. But carefully." His voice was cold, commanding, like the edge of a glacier grinding across stone. "This one… he is not what he appears."
A few of the younger warriors hesitated, unsure. Jinx smirked at their nerves, violet eyes glinting with something between amusement and disdain. He allowed them to weave cuffs of ice around his wrists. The bindings were snug, biting cold against his skin, but they might as well have been cloth for all the effort it would have taken him to break free. Yet Jinx remained still, content to play the prisoner—for now.
They marched him through the streets of the Northern Water Tribe. The moon hung high, its light spilling over towers and bridges of ice, illuminating the tribe's proud architecture. Jinx glanced around with interest, his sharp gaze drinking in details. Towers sculpted of pure white ice, canals threading through the city like veins, and the watchful eyes of guards on every corner. It was a fortress, a jewel carved out of the frozen north.
And yet… he had walked straight in. He almost laughed.
The people stared as he passed. Men, women, even children gathered at the edges of the street, whispering to one another as they looked upon the strange intruder with bound wrists and a firebender's stance. Jinx could feel their suspicion, their fear, their hatred. The air was thick with it. He wondered how many of them would beg to see him executed if Pakku so much as raised a finger.
At last, they brought him to the grand hall—a chamber of polished ice that gleamed under the moonlight shining through its dome. Warriors flanked the room, and at the far end sat the chieftain himself, Arnook, regal and severe, his heavy cloak lined with the fur of white bear-seals. Beside him, as if the spirits themselves had decided to test Jinx's patience further, sat Princess Yue. Her pale hair shimmered silver in the light, her delicate features composed in prayerful serenity.
Jinx's eyes lingered on her a moment too long, catching the faint aura of moonlight that seemed to cling to her. She looked fragile, untouchable. But her eyes—when they flicked toward him—were filled not with fear, but with curiosity.
"Grandmaster Pakku," Arnook intoned, his voice like the groan of shifting icebergs. "What is this? You bring a firebender into our walls?"
Pakku's jaw tightened. "Not just any firebender. He came through our defenses with ease, using tricks even I have not seen before. He wielded fire unlike fire, ice unlike ice… and then, before my own eyes, he bent water."
The hall erupted in murmurs. A firebender bending water? Impossible. Treasonous. Blasphemous. The words echoed in whispers across the gathered crowd.
Arnook's stern gaze fixed on Jinx. "Explain yourself, boy. What are you?"
Jinx tilted his head, a crooked grin tugging at his lips despite the weight of the room pressing in on him. "Depends who's asking. To you? Just a traveler who stumbled where I wasn't wanted."
A ripple of outrage spread through the hall at his flippant tone, but Yue… Yue's lips parted in the faintest hint of a smile. She was studying him the way one studies a riddle whispered by the spirits.
Arnook raised his hand, silencing the whispers. "You mock us in our own home. You are lucky we have not already cast you into the sea."
Jinx shrugged, icy chains clinking with the movement. "Maybe. But if I were your enemy, this whole city would already be ash. You think your ice wall could've stopped me?" His eyes flicked toward Pakku with deliberate challenge. "Ask your grandmaster. He saw how easily I walked through."
The room went still. The words were arrogance, yes, but they rang with enough truth that no one could fully dismiss them. Pakku's silence only fueled the unease.
Arnook leaned forward, his tone sharper now. "If you are not the Avatar, then what are you?"
Jinx paused at that, violet eyes narrowing ever so slightly. The mention of the Avatar stirred something in the crowd—hope, suspicion, desperation. He could feel it all. He smirked, finally shaking his head. "Not the Avatar. That honor belongs to a bald little monk. I've seen him. He's on his way here, probably even now."
Gasps rippled through the room. Yue's eyes widened, her lips parting as though she wanted to speak but dared not. Arnook's expression hardened, but Pakku's gaze sharpened, narrowing like the point of a spear.
"You lie," Pakku said coldly. "You speak as though you know the Avatar personally."
"I don't lie," Jinx said flatly, his smirk fading for the first time. "And whether you believe me or not… he's coming. The boy's alive. And you'll see soon enough."
For a moment, silence reigned. Even the guards shifted uneasily, torn between disbelief and the undeniable conviction in Jinx's voice.
Arnook leaned back on his throne of ice, his tone slow and deliberate. "If what you say is true, then your arrival here is no accident. But firebender…" His eyes narrowed. "Do not mistake our hospitality for mercy. You will be watched. Questioned. Judged."
Jinx smirked again, leaning back as though he were lounging on the chains themselves. "Hospitality, huh? Could've fooled me."
But deep down, behind the smirk and the swagger, his mind was racing. He had gotten exactly what he wanted: entry, suspicion, and—soon—access. If he played his cards right, this frozen cage might just become the key to mastering the water within him.
Jinx didn't know how long he sat chained in the cold chamber. Time felt sluggish, almost muffled, the silence broken only by the faint drip of melting ice. He wasn't uncomfortable—cold had long since lost its bite on him—but the tension in the air was heavy, deliberate. The Water Tribe wanted him to feel like prey waiting for judgment.
When the door finally opened, it was no guards who entered, but Pakku himself. The grandmaster's steps were measured, his cloak dragging across the icy floor, his sharp eyes fixed on Jinx with that same blend of suspicion and curiosity.
"On your feet," Pakku commanded.
Jinx smirked but obeyed, rising in one fluid motion. The ice cuffs around his wrists cracked slightly as his muscles flexed, and though he didn't break them, the gesture wasn't lost on Pakku.
"You're reckless," the old master said, circling him like a wolf sizing up prey. "You walk into our home as if walls mean nothing. You wield fire in ways no firebender should. And then…" His gaze narrowed. "You bend water. Explain yourself."
Jinx tilted his head, violet eyes gleaming with amusement. "You ask me questions like I keep the answers in my pocket. Truth is, old man, I don't know why it happened. I just raised my hand, and the water moved. Surprised me as much as it did you."
Pakku didn't look convinced. With a flick of his wrist, water surged from a nearby canal, coiling into a thin sphere that hovered between them. "Then you'll prove it. Bend this water. Now."
For once, Jinx hesitated. He hadn't tried again since the fight, half-wondering if it had been a fluke. Slowly, he raised his bound hands. He focused—not on the fire roaring in his veins, not on the ice he commanded with cold precision, but on the liquid itself. The way it pulsed, the way it carried the rhythm of life.
The sphere quivered. Jinx narrowed his eyes, pulling at that sensation he had felt before, like tugging on a thread deep inside. The water shivered—and then it obeyed, drifting an inch toward him.
Gasps echoed in the chamber.
Pakku's expression didn't change, though his eyes sharpened. He lifted his own hand, pulling the sphere away. "Again."
This time Jinx scowled. "I'm not your circus animal."
"You are a danger to everyone here until I know what you are," Pakku snapped, his patience razor-thin. "Do it again."
The fire inside Jinx flared, irritation sparking against his ribs. His violet gaze burned hotter, and he raised his hands with a sharp gesture. The sphere didn't just move—it snapped toward him, then split apart into dozens of droplets that froze in midair around his body like tiny black-tinged crystals. For a heartbeat, he looked like he was standing in a halo of frozen stars.
Pakku's lips pressed into a thin line. Even he hadn't expected that level of instinctive control.
"Interesting," the grandmaster murmured, stroking his beard. "Raw, unfocused… but there's potential."
Jinx smirked, letting the frozen droplets fall and shatter at his feet. "So what now? You planning to chain me up and poke at me until you figure out if I'm some kind of mistake?"
Pakku stepped closer, his eyes hard. "You think this is a game, boy? The balance of the world rests on the Avatar alone. If another appears—if someone not chosen by the cycle wields more than one element—it threatens everything. Do you understand that?"
For once, Jinx didn't grin. His gaze flicked down, thoughtful. "Maybe the world's balance needs a little shaking."
The silence that followed was thick, dangerous. Pakku studied him for a long moment before turning away, his cloak swishing like the sweep of a blade.
"You will remain under watch," he said at last. "I will test you again, in controlled conditions. Until then, do not mistake my restraint for trust."
As the door closed behind him, Jinx leaned back against the frozen wall, smirking faintly despite the lingering tension. "Controlled conditions, huh? We'll see who controls who."
The next day, Jinx was escorted under heavy guard to a secluded training ground encircled by ice walls. The place was eerily quiet, save for the groaning of the frozen structures as the wind pressed against them. At the center stood Grandmaster Pakku, his arms folded, eyes narrowing as Jinx was shoved forward.
"This is not a lesson," Pakku said flatly. "This is an evaluation. I need to know whether what you did before was instinct or skill. And whether you're capable of controlling it—or if you're just a dangerous accident waiting to happen."
Jinx cracked his neck lazily. "Sounds like fun already."
The first exercise was simple—or so Pakku claimed. A single stream of water rose from the ground and hovered between them. "Move it. Shape it."
Jinx extended his hand, remembering the sensation of pulling on a hidden thread. The water wavered, sluggish at first, then twisted into a thin coil that spun around his wrist like a bracelet. He smirked.
"Again," Pakku said, his voice unreadable. "But faster."
The coil expanded into a whip, snapping outward with surprising sharpness. The water splashed against the ice wall, freezing on contact. A murmur went through the observing guards, but Pakku's face betrayed nothing.
Then came the real test. Without warning, Pakku thrust his hands forward, sending a barrage of ice shards whistling through the air toward Jinx.
For an instant, Jinx's body reacted before his mind could. He raised both arms, and a sheet of water erupted from the canal beneath his feet, freezing into a barrier that caught the shards with a resounding crack. Jinx blinked at it, stunned. He hadn't even thought—his body had just done it.
Pakku's eyes sharpened. "Instinct."
But the grandmaster wasn't finished. He shifted the ground beneath Jinx's feet, causing the ice to buckle, aiming to throw him off balance. Jinx stumbled—but instead of falling, he twisted his body, pulling water upward in a spiral that steadied him, the liquid swirling like a serpent around his frame. He laughed, exhilarated.
"This is supposed to be difficult, right?" Jinx taunted, violet eyes flashing.
That was when Pakku changed tactics. He forced the water to rise against Jinx, a crushing wave meant to overwhelm. Jinx inhaled sharply, bracing himself—not to resist, but to answer. He thrust his palms forward, and to everyone's shock, the wave split clean down the middle, parting around his body before crashing harmlessly behind him.
Silence fell. Even Pakku's composure cracked, his brows furrowing deeply.
"How…?" he muttered under his breath. This wasn't a fumbling novice. This was someone who was learning at a terrifying pace, adapting with each breath.
The guards exchanged uneasy looks, whispering among themselves. One young warrior even murmured, "He's a prodigy…"
Pakku silenced them with a sharp glare. He turned back to Jinx, who stood at the center of the shattered ground, grinning like a wolf.
"Genius?" Jinx said, catching the whispers. "No. Just quick on the uptake." He tilted his head mockingly. "Looks like your tribe's little secret weapon isn't so secret anymore."
Pakku's jaw tightened. He could not deny what he had seen. In the span of minutes, the boy had gone from clumsy tugging to shaping water under pressure with elegance and precision. Such progress was unheard of. Even the Avatar required months, years of guidance to learn what this stranger was pulling off by instinct.
The grandmaster exhaled slowly, masking his unease with authority. "You're dangerous," he said finally. "Far too dangerous to be left unchecked. From this point on, you will be under my direct supervision."
Jinx only smirked wider, his violet eyes gleaming with mischief and something far darker. "Careful, old man. You might start sounding like my teacher."
Pakku said nothing, but inside, a cold thought gnawed at him: If this boy continues at this pace… he could rival the Avatar himself.
The council chamber of the Northern Water Tribe was vast and solemn, its ice walls carved with flowing patterns that caught the torchlight like frozen rivers. Chief Arnook sat at the head, with Princess Yue quietly at his side, her face composed though her pale eyes betrayed curiosity. Around them were gathered the tribe's eldest masters and advisors, men with long beards and women with silvered braids, voices of tradition and memory.
Pakku stood in the center, his posture stiff, his expression unreadable. He had taught countless students, faced invaders, and served his people with unwavering loyalty. But what he was about to say tested even his patience.
"I have observed the boy," Pakku began, his deep voice echoing through the chamber. "He is… unlike anything I've ever seen. Within hours, he displayed waterbending skill that should take years to cultivate. Reflexive, adaptive, precise. He bends instinctively, as though water were simply another limb."
A ripple of uneasy murmurs passed through the elders. One of the older men slammed his staff on the ground. "Then he is too dangerous to be allowed to live. A firebender—here, in our sacred home? And now you say he wields our own gift? Execute him before he becomes a calamity!"
Several elders nodded fiercely, their voices rising in agreement. "Spirits forbid we nurture another threat! Kill him now before he brings ruin upon us!"
Pakku's jaw clenched. He swallowed his pride before speaking again. "Execution… would be shortsighted."
The chamber went silent at once. Even Chief Arnook raised his brows, surprised. Pakku had never spoken in defense of a firebender.
Reluctantly, Pakku continued. "There are things I've seen in this boy that we must not ignore. He is utterly unaffected by the cold—no shivering, no hesitation. His clothing is light, wholly unsuited for our climate, and yet he walked bare-skinned through icy waters at midnight, waters that would kill even a trained warrior in minutes. One of my own students witnessed him slipping from ice cuffs not by breaking them, but by… passing through them, as though their hold meant nothing."
The words unsettled even the most stoic elders.
"And there is more," Pakku said grimly. "His firebending is unlike any other—dark, violet flames that scorch with terrifying intensity. He commands lightning with ease. And… he bends something else. A black ice that steals the heat of whatever it touches. If we attack recklessly, the casualties will be on our side, not his."
An elder woman hissed, clutching her robe tighter. "Blasphemy. A creature like that should never have been allowed past our walls!"
Arnook raised a hand for silence, his eyes thoughtful. "So, Master Pakku… you are saying he is not merely a threat. He is… a once-in-a-century genius."
The old master's lips pressed thin. He did not want to admit it. But his honor bound him to truth. "…Yes. His talent rivals prodigies I have trained in my lifetime. Perhaps even exceeds them."
The council erupted in discord—some shouting for Jinx's death, others demanding imprisonment, and a rare few whispering that such a gift should not be squandered. Through it all, Yue's gaze remained distant, her mind replaying the name she had overheard—Jinx.
Chief Arnook finally spoke above the chaos. "If he is what you say, then killing him may rob us of something the Spirits themselves have sent. But keeping him is dangerous." His voice lowered, heavy with tension. "We must decide. Will the boy live as an asset under watch—or die as a threat eradicated?"
The chamber fell into an uneasy silence.
And though Pakku kept his face calm, his thoughts churned: This boy could change everything. For better—or for much, much worse.
The sea was calm, the moonlight silvering the waves. A lone koala-otter floated lazily on its back, paws tucked into its chest as it purred. It chirped once, ears flicking as something massive cast a shadow over the water. In a flash it dove, vanishing beneath the surface just as a vast shape swept overhead—Appa, six legs beating against the sky, his great shadow gliding across the waves.
Sokka slumped over the saddle, chin resting on his arms, voice thick with irritation.
"I'm not one to complain, but can't Appa fly any higher?"
As if to spite him, Appa groaned and lost more altitude, his paws dragging through the water with a slosh before he lumbered back up.
From the saddle, Katara lay sprawled on her stomach, her chin propped up on her hands, eyes glazed with boredom. Aang, perched at the reins atop Appa's head, shot Sokka a glare, his patience thin.
"I have an idea! Why don't we all climb on your back and you fly us to the North Pole?!"
Sokka turned his head just enough to smirk sarcastically. "Love to. Climb on, everyone. Sokka Airlines is open for business." He shook his shoulders like wings, which only made Momo leap onto his back with a happy chirp. The boy's face darkened.
Katara sighed, raising her hands in exasperation. "Look, we're all tired. We've been flying for two days straight without rest."
Sokka plucked Momo off his back and scowled. "And for what? We can't even find the Northern Water Tribe. There's nothing up here but ocean and ice."
As if to answer, the ocean itself stirred.
A sharp slushing sound made Katara lift her head. Before them, the water swelled, freezing upward into jagged ice spikes that jutted like spears from the sea.
"Appa, look out!" Aang yanked hard on the reins. Appa roared, wings straining as he swerved—but another spike erupted right before him. His leg clipped the ice, instantly frosting over. The impact shattered the spike, but it threw the great bison off balance.
Katara and Sokka screamed as the saddle tilted violently. Appa spun in a wild spiral, crashing into the ocean with a colossal splash. He righted himself, bellowing, but the water around him froze solid in seconds, locking him in place like a trapped insect in amber.
From the new ice spikes, Water Tribe boats emerged, their hulls cutting cleanly through the frozen channels. Warriors in blue furs stood ready, water rising at their command.
Katara gasped in recognition, eyes wide with joy.
"They're waterbenders! We found the Northern Water Tribe!"
Sokka's hand went instinctively to his boomerang, his gaze darting around the boats that now surrounded them on every side.
Appa groaned, his body encased in ice, as the six ships closed in.
Meanwhile…
Far from the frozen seas, the red glow of braziers lit the Fire Nation's northern harbor. At its center stood a large military tent, guarded on all sides. Inside, a map stretched across a war table.
Commander Zhao leaned over it, his finger tracing a line northward across the ocean. His voice was low, calculating.
"He's heading north. The Northern Water Tribe. The Avatar seeks a waterbending master."
A younger officer, Captain Li, scowled. "Then why wait? Let's go seize him before he arrives."
Zhao's smirk was sharp and humorless. "Patience, Captain. The Northern Water Tribe is no Earth Kingdom village. Their city is a fortress carved from the ice itself, guarded by warriors who've survived a hundred years of war. The tundra is their ally. The sea, their shield." He straightened, eyes narrowing with ambition. "No, if we are to take the boy, we will need an army. An invasion the likes of which the world has not seen in a century."
The brazier flames flickered, casting his shadow long and hungry across the map.
The feast hall of Agna Qel'a glittered with icy grandeur. Torches burned blue along the walls, casting flickering light across carved pillars of frozen water. Drums thundered as dancers moved, and laughter echoed off the vaulted ceilings. The Gaang sat at a long table draped with sealskin, trays of food spread out before them—platters of fish, sea prunes, and roasted crab legs.
Aang leaned forward, wide-eyed, his energy uncontainable. "This place is amazing!"
Katara nodded, her face lit with wonder. "I've never seen so many waterbenders in one place… it feels alive."
Sokka, by contrast, was already stuffing his mouth, clearly less interested in cultural appreciation and more concerned with how much he could pile onto his plate. That is, until Yue approached.
She glided forward with the quiet poise of the moon itself, her silver hair shimmering, her soft smile lighting her features as she stopped by their table. Sokka straightened immediately, nearly choking on his food.
"Hi there," he managed, voice cracking. "Sokka. Southern Water Tribe."
Yue gave a polite bow of her head, smiling faintly. "Very nice to meet you."
The two lingered in awkward silence, until Sokka blurted, "So… uh… you're a princess, huh?"
Yue laughed softly and nodded.
"You know," he said, puffing out his chest, "back in my tribe, I'm kind of like a prince myself."
Katara snorted, leaning across the table with a wicked grin. "Prince of what, exactly?"
Sokka shot her a glare. "A lot of things! Do you mind? I'm having a serious conversation."
Katara rolled her eyes dramatically. "My apologies, Prince Sokka."
Sokka ignored her, leaning toward Yue again. "So, it looks like I'll be in town for a while. I was thinking… maybe we could do, you know, an activity together?"
Yue tilted her head, laughing again. "An activity? You're actually the second person to ask me that this week."
Sokka froze, blinking. "Second? Then who was the first?"
Yue turned slightly, lifting a delicate hand to gesture across the hall. "Jinx. He's over there."
The siblings and Aang followed her gesture. At the far end of the table sat a strikingly feminine figure, violet eyes half-lidded in lazy disinterest as he tore into a slab of roasted sea lion meat with alarming enthusiasm. His black hair tipped in purple shimmered faintly in the torchlight.
Sokka stared, unblinking, replaying Yue's words in his head until they clicked. "Wait… that's… a boy?!"
Yue gave a graceful nod. "Yes. He arrived here a week ago. A very interesting man… he can bend three elements."
For a second, the Gaang processed her words without much thought—until they sank in.
Aang spat out his sea prune. Katara choked on her water. Sokka dropped his meat skewer.
All three shouted in unison, loud enough to silence the entire table:
"HE CAN WHAT?!"
The shout from Aang, Katara, and Sokka had turned several heads at the feast. Yue's cheeks flushed pink, and she raised her hand in a quieting gesture, leaning closer to keep her voice between them.
"Yes," she said softly, her voice calm despite their shock. "He bends three elements. Fire, ice, and water." Her eyes lingered on Jinx across the hall, where he sat unbothered by the attention, his violet eyes focused entirely on his meal. "Though the way he bends them is… different. Not like what Master Pakku teaches, or even what I've seen others do."
Aang leaned forward, whisper-shouting, "Different how?!"
Yue took a breath, as though carefully weighing her words. "His flames aren't the same as other firebenders'. They burn magenta, and they don't flicker like normal fire… they twist. He also bends ice that isn't white or blue, but black, and it seems to draw heat out of whatever it touches instead of melting away. And…" She lowered her voice further. "He doesn't seem to feel the cold at all. I've seen him walk barefoot along the canals at night, even wade through the waters. Anyone else would have frozen, but he just moved as if it were nothing."
Katara's eyes widened slightly, her fascination overcoming her initial suspicion. "That's… impossible."
Yue shook her head gently. "I thought so too. But Master Pakku has tested him himself. He says Jinx learns faster than anyone he has ever trained, as if the elements are already waiting for him to call them."
Sokka blinked hard, pointing an accusatory finger across the table. "Wait, wait, wait. So you're telling me that guy—" He jabbed a finger toward Jinx, who was now noisily chewing a hunk of meat. "—that pretty-boy over there can bend three elements, doesn't freeze to death in this tundra, and asked you to 'do an activity' before I even got the chance?!"
Yue stifled a laugh behind her hand. "Yes… and I said no, of course."
Sokka sat back, crossing his arms with a huff. "Good. Because that guy looks like trouble."
Aang still hadn't taken his eyes off Jinx, his brow furrowed. "If he can bend more than one element… then…" His voice lowered, almost to himself. "…what is he?"
Katara's gaze followed Jinx as well. He sat completely at ease, his expression unreadable, but there was something undeniable about him—an aura, like the cold and the fire both answered to him without question.
Yue followed their eyes, her own expression softening. "I don't know. But the Spirits seem to tolerate him. And in a place like this, that may mean more than we realize."
The three from the Southern Tribe exchanged uneasy glances, the noise of the feast resuming around them.
The feast hall's noise blurred into a hum of drums, laughter, and clinking platters. But to Aang, Katara, and Sokka, all of it faded into the background as their eyes remained fixed on the strange young man Yue had pointed out.
Jinx sat casually, one leg hooked over the other, chewing lazily on a slab of roasted sea lion. He didn't seem to care that half the hall was sneaking glances at him—or that Yue herself had been talking about him. The firelight caught in his violet eyes, gleaming unnaturally, almost daring people to stare back.
"Okay," Sokka said, slamming his hands on the table as if to rally courage. "That's it. We're going over there. I'm not letting Pretty-Boy Three-Elements steal the spotlight before I even get started."
"Steal what spotlight?" Katara teased, but she was already standing too, curiosity winning out.
Aang hesitated only a moment before following. His stomach twisted with unease. Someone bending more than one element wasn't just strange—it was dangerous. If Yue was telling the truth, this boy wasn't just unusual. He was… unnatural.
They approached cautiously. Jinx glanced up when their shadows fell across the table, tilting his head like a fox disturbed at its meal. His expression was unreadable, but the corner of his lips tugged upward in something between amusement and annoyance.
"You're staring," Jinx said simply, his voice calm but carrying a subtle edge.
"Uh, yeah," Sokka blurted before anyone else could speak. "Because Yue just said you can bend three elements. Which is… impossible! Except for, you know, the Avatar—" He jabbed a thumb toward Aang. "That guy."
Katara folded her arms, her tone more cautious. "Is it true?"
Jinx set down the meat bone and licked his fingers in a slow, almost deliberate gesture, violet eyes flicking from one sibling to the other before settling on Aang. "Depends," he said smoothly. "Would it scare you if it was?"
Aang frowned, taking a step forward. "It doesn't scare me. But… it's not supposed to be possible. The Avatar is the only one who can do that."
Jinx leaned back in his seat, smirk widening just enough to be infuriating. "Then maybe I'm not supposed to exist."
The three of them fell into silence. Sokka's jaw dropped. Katara's brows pinched with unease. And Aang, for the first time that evening, felt the air around him grow heavy.
From across the hall, Pakku's sharp eyes caught everything. The way Yue's attention lingered on Jinx. The way the Avatar and his companions were already drawn to him, circling like moths to an unpredictable flame.
Pakku's jaw tightened. He had told the council Jinx was dangerous, but even he hadn't expected this level of magnetism. The boy didn't just bend elements; he bent people around him, drew their focus, unsettled their sense of what was possible.
He set down his goblet of arctic berry wine and stood, slipping through the crowd. His presence was enough to silence conversations as he passed, whispers of Grandmaster following his steps. When he reached Yue's table, he found her watching Jinx with that same soft curiosity. He frowned.
"Princess Yue," he said quietly, "your attention is… misplaced. That one is not a guest. He is a danger. Keep your distance."
Yue turned to him, her voice calm but steady. "Is he? Or are you simply afraid of what you don't understand?"
Pakku bristled. Few dared speak to him that way, but Yue's words cut sharp because she had the weight of the spirits on her side. His gaze flicked past her to Jinx—who was now laughing quietly at something Sokka had said, though his eyes were still sharp, still calculating.
The grandmaster's thoughts churned. He had seen Jinx break through ice cuffs as though they weren't even there. He had seen him walk bare-chested into freezing waters at midnight, immune to the cold that would have killed any other man. He had seen him pull fire, ice, and water into his grasp like toys—each responding without hesitation.
And still, his pride burned at the thought of calling him anything but a threat.
But if I strike at him recklessly… the casualties would be ours, not his.
Pakku's hands clenched behind his back. For the first time in decades, he felt the uncomfortable twinge of doubt.
Back at the table, Sokka had just slammed his palms down in frustration. "Okay, you can't just say stuff like 'maybe I'm not supposed to exist' and leave it there! Who are you?"
Jinx's smirk softened, though his eyes never lost their edge. "The name's Jinx. And as for who I am…" He leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to make them lean in. "…let's just say the world's balance isn't as simple as one Avatar anymore."
Aang's chest tightened. Katara's hand went to her water flask unconsciously. Sokka swallowed hard, suddenly wishing Yue was still standing next to him.
From the shadows at the edge of the hall, Pakku watched, his thoughts grim:
If this continues… the Avatar won't be the only storm the spirits have unleashed.
The next morning, the Northern Water Tribe's grand plaza gleamed under the pale sun. At its center, the great fountain surged, its water alive under the guidance of the master waterbenders. Chief Arnook stood tall in his ceremonial furs, Pakku at his side. Aang bowed eagerly before them, eyes shining with anticipation.
"Master Pakku," Arnook said formally, "meet your newest student—the Avatar."
Aang straightened with a grin, bowing again.
Pakku's stern gaze was unflinching. "Just because you're destined to save the world, boy, don't expect any special treatment."
Aang rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "That's fine! My friend and I can't wait to start training with you." His grin widened. "You know… after we relax a couple of days."
Pakku raised an unimpressed brow. "If you want relaxation, I suggest a tropical island. Otherwise…" He turned briskly. "I'll see you both at sunrise. Good night."
Katara leaned toward Aang as Pakku departed. Her smile was excited, her voice hushed. "I've waited for this day my whole life. Finally, we get to learn from a real master."
Far away, in the Fire Nation harbor, tension brewed. Iroh entered Zuko's cabin, only to be met with his nephew's frustrated snarl.
"For the last time, Uncle, I'm not playing the tsungi horn!"
Iroh sighed deeply. "It's not about music this time. It's… our plans. There's been a complication."
The flap of the tent opened, and Zhao strode in, flanked by soldiers.
"I'm taking your crew," Zhao declared, eyes glittering with smug triumph.
Zuko spun around. "What?! You can't—"
"I already have. They've been recruited for an expedition to the North Pole." Zhao's grin widened. "To capture the Avatar."
Zuko's fists tightened, fury burning behind his eyes. "Uncle, is this true?"
Iroh looked down, guilt heavy in his voice. "I'm afraid so, nephew. He's taking everyone… even the cook."
Zhao's gaze roamed the room until it caught the pair of broadswords hanging on Zuko's wall. His expression darkened, recognition flashing. Slowly, he lifted one, its weight familiar.
"I didn't know you were skilled with broadswords, Prince Zuko."
Zuko's body went rigid. "I'm not. They're antiques. Decorative."
Zhao's smirk twisted. "Have you heard of the Blue Spirit, General Iroh?"
Iroh forced a polite laugh. "Just rumors. I doubt such a figure exists."
"Oh, he exists," Zhao said, eyes narrowing as he turned the blade in his hand. "He's a criminal. A traitor to the Fire Nation. And I have a feeling… justice will catch up with him soon."
He handed the blade back with mock casualness. "General Iroh, my offer stands. Join my mission, if you change your mind."
At dawn, the training grounds bustled with anticipation. The fountain's waters had been redirected to the open plaza, the perfect stage for demonstration and discipline. Aang and Katara stood to one side, eager to begin.
But all eyes shifted as Jinx stepped into the circle opposite Master Pakku. His violet eyes gleamed, his coat hanging loose despite the bitter cold, and his stance radiated confidence.
Pakku raised his arms, water rising around him in twin streams. He snapped one forward in a whip-like arc, testing the boy.
Jinx backflipped smoothly, magenta fire sparking at his heels as he twisted midair. He landed lightly, scooping snow into his hand and forcing it to liquefy before shaping it into water chains. They snaked toward Pakku with deadly speed.
The master spun aside effortlessly, severing them with a precise slice of water. He pressed the attack, striking again and again. But Jinx's grin only widened. He lifted his index and middle fingers, and suddenly the snow all around them shivered, liquefied, and surged upward. In seconds, the ground erupted into writhing thorned water-vines, twisting into jagged spikes. One lashed forward and clipped Pakku's arm, drawing a line of blood.
The watching crowd gasped.
Aang and Katara's jaws dropped in unison.
"Whoa…" Aang breathed.
"They're good," Katara whispered.
The air around the fountain trembled with tension. Jinx stood tall, firelight dancing across his smirk, while Pakku straightened, his face dark with both irritation and something far rarer—respect.
The morning sun gleamed against the ice of Agna Qel'a, spilling across the plaza where the fountain trickled endlessly, its waters waiting to be bent. Aang bounded in, his cheerful energy at odds with the crisp solemnity of the Northern Tribe.
"Good morning, Master Pakku!" he called brightly.
Pakku stopped mid-form, the water he had been shaping falling with a splash. His expression was sour, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "No, please, march right in. It's not like I'm in the middle of a match or anything."
Aang winced but quickly gestured to Katara beside him. "Uh… this is my friend Katara! The one I told you about?"
The grandmaster's face hardened instantly. "I'm sorry, Avatar, but I think there's been a misunderstanding. You didn't tell me your friend was a girl. In our tribe, it is forbidden for women to learn waterbending."
The words hit Katara like a slap. The camera of the moment panned upward in silence, from her clenched fists to her face—eyes burning with outrage.
"What do you mean you won't teach me?" she snapped. "I didn't travel across the entire world just for you to say no!"
Pakku's reply was flat, sharp as breaking ice. "No."
Her anger grew hotter. "There must be other female waterbenders in your tribe!"
"There are," Pakku said coolly. "Here, the women learn to heal. Yagoda will take you as her student. I'm sure she'd accept you, despite your… attitude."
Before Katara could fire back, Jinx, who had been watching with disinterest from the fountain steps, raised his hand lazily. "Umm… could I learn healing?"
Pakku glanced at him, surprisingly open. "Yes."
Katara spun on them, furious. "What?! How come he gets special treatment? He's a firebender! Spirits, he even looks more like a girl than I do!"
The corners of Jinx's lips curled in a grin. "First off, that's racist. Not everyone from the Fire Nation is a monster. And second—" he stuck out his tongue, childish yet cutting, "—I had a Southern Water Tribe grandmother. So there."
The revelation froze Pakku mid-step. His eyes narrowed. "…A Southern Water Tribe grandmother? Who was she?"
Jinx shrugged, his tone casual but shadowed with something unspoken. "Don't know. My sisters never told me her name. Just that she and her sister were taken when the Fire Nation invaded. That's all I know."
But Katara wasn't listening anymore, her rage drowning out every word. She glared at Pakku, voice trembling with frustration. "I don't want to heal. I want to fight!"
Pakku's sigh was heavy, disapproving. "I can see that. But our tribe has rules. Customs."
Katara's fury boiled over. "Well, your rules stink!"
"Yeah, they're not fair!" Aang chimed in, his voice rising with righteous anger. He stepped in front of Katara, shoulders squared. "If you won't teach Katara, then—"
Pakku's eyes narrowed. "Then what?"
"Then I won't learn from you!" Aang declared.
The master's expression didn't flicker. "Then have fun teaching yourself. I'm sure you'll do a fine job." He turned, dismissive.
"Aang, wait!" Katara cried, grabbing his sleeve. Her anger gave way to worry as she looked at him. "You can't risk your training for me. You have to learn from him, even if he is a big jerk."
Aang's shoulders sagged, torn between loyalty and duty. He nodded reluctantly. Katara stormed away, fists tight at her sides.
Pakku folded his arms, tone clipped. "Well then, Avatar. Why don't we get started?"
He flicked his wrist, and a sudden blast of water smashed Aang off his feet, sending him tumbling backward.
From the sidelines, Jinx let out a low whistle, grinning as if enjoying the chaos.
Elsewhere in Agna Qel'a
Meanwhile, on one of the city's quiet bridges, Sokka spotted Yue walking with her attendants. He jogged to catch up, waving too eagerly.
"Princess Yue! Good morning! How about that picnic last night? Your dad sure knows how to throw a party."
Yue's soft smile was polite. "I'm happy you enjoyed yourself."
Sokka rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well… it wasn't as much fun after you left." Their eyes met for a moment, both cheeks flushing. "So, I was hoping maybe we could, you know… see more of each other."
Yue laughed lightly, tilting her head. "Do an activity, you mean?"
Sokka's ears burned red. "Y-yeah. An activity. At a place. At some time."
Her laugh grew, melodic against the quiet rush of the canal. "I'd love to. Meet me on that bridge tonight." She pointed gracefully at the arched walkway across the water.
Sokka lit up, grinning like a fool. "Great! I'll see you—ah!" His foot slipped on the icy stone, and he toppled straight into the canal with a splash.
"Sorry," Yue said between laughs, her smile glowing brighter than the moonlight.
Climbing out, soaked but grinning all the same, Sokka brushed himself off. "That's okay. Totally worth it. See you tonight."
As Yue walked away, her expression softened, thoughts lingering.
Jinx was right, she mused silently. I would find you interesting, Sokka.
Fire Navy Base
The red glow of torches flickered across the canvas walls of the command tent. Admiral Zhao stood before a gathered group of cutthroats—the very pirates who had once crossed paths with Prince Zuko.
"I'm very impressed," Zhao said smoothly, his voice carrying the weight of command. "You all seem highly qualified for the mission I have in mind."
The pirate captain, face weathered like driftwood, dragged a small chest toward himself and cracked it open. A faint, golden glow spilled out, illuminating the greedy faces of his men. Pirate Barker Oh plucked out a coin, biting it with yellowed teeth.
"Mmm. That's some tasty gold."
The captain leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "What do you need us to do?"
Zhao's smirk was thin and sharp. "I believe you're acquainted with Prince Zuko."
The pirates exchanged looks, grins spreading slowly. They understood perfectly.
Later, in the icy calm of the Healing Hut, Katara stepped hesitantly inside. The room was warm with lanterns, filled with the gentle sound of trickling water and the sight of young girls practicing with glowing streams of liquid.
"Uh… hi. Are you Yagoda?" Katara asked nervously.
The elder woman, kind-eyed and steady, turned from her work. "Are you here for the healing lesson?"
Katara looked around at the rows of girls, her shoulders sinking. "I… guess I am."
"Welcome, child. Welcome." Yagoda's voice was soothing, but Katara's frown remained.
Meanwhile, Aang struggled under Pakku's strict instruction. The old master slurped soup from a carved ice bowl as he lectured.
"You're moving the water around, Avatar, but you're not feeling the push and pull."
"I'm trying!" Aang said, sweat dripping down his forehead as the water faltered.
"Perhaps the move is too advanced for you. Try something simpler." Pakku sipped again, unimpressed.
Aang glanced sideways—and his spirits sank further. Jinx sat cross-legged on the steps, molding water with lazy focus. After a few attempts, the liquid shimmered into a sleek scythe of dark ice in his hands, its edge glittering dangerously. Jinx twirled it casually, like a toy.
Aang's face fell. In frustration, he slammed his water against the ground with a splash.
Back in the Healing Hut, Katara bowed politely. "Thanks for the lesson."
Yagoda's eyes twinkled. "So, who's the lucky boy?"
Katara blinked. "Huh?"
"Your betrothal necklace," Yagoda said, pointing gently. "Surely, you're getting married?"
Katara's face went pale. "Ah—no! I don't think I'm ready for that. My grandmother gave it to my mother, and my mother passed it down to me."
Yagoda leaned closer, her smile fading into something deeper. "I recognize that carving. Of course! You're the spitting image of Kanna."
Katara froze. "Wait… how do you know my Gran-Gran's name?"
"When I was your age, Kanna and I were friends," Yagoda said softly. "She was born here, in the Northern Tribe."
"She never told me…" Katara whispered.
Yagoda nodded, her expression sad. "Your grandmother had an arranged marriage. A young waterbender carved that necklace for her. But… she left. No goodbye. No explanation. She vanished like the tide."
Katara's chest tightened. Mystery clung to her grandmother's past like frost.
That night, Zuko lay brooding in his cabin, the shadows long across the floor.
Iroh poked his head in. "The crew wanted me to wish you safe travels."
"Good riddance to those traitors," Zuko muttered bitterly.
"It's a lovely night for a walk," Iroh offered gently. "Clear your head, perhaps. Or stay here in the dark, if that makes you happy."
Outside, figures crept across the ship. Pirates carried satchels of blasting jelly, whispering curses as they placed them against the hull.
"Careful with the blasting jelly!" Oh hissed.
Inside, Zuko frowned. "Uncle? Is that you?" He stepped out, hearing the noises.
Then—fwoosh. A fuse lit.
The ship exploded in a violent roar, flames and smoke ripping into the night.
"Zuko!" Iroh cried, sprinting back as the ship burned. "Zuko…"
Across the moonlit city, Sokka nervously approached Yue, who stood gazing into the water from an arched bridge.
"Hi, Princess Yue. I, uh, made you something." He held out a small carving, awkwardly shaped.
Yue tilted her head. "It's a bear."
"Actually, it's supposed to be a fish." He flipped it upside down. "See? Fin."
Her smile faltered. "Oh… I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I shouldn't have asked you to come here." Her voice cracked. "I can't." She turned and fled, leaving Sokka staring, heartbroken.
He tossed the carving into the canal, its ripples fading quickly.
Later, the siblings regrouped.
"How's warrior training?" Katara asked softly.
Sokka kicked his bag, scowling.
"That bad?" Aang asked.
"No, it's Yue," Sokka groaned. "One minute she wants to see me, the next she's running off. I don't get it." He forced a shrug. "Anyway, how's training?"
Katara's jaw tightened. "Master Poophead won't teach me because I'm a girl."
"Then why don't you teach her, Aang?" Sokka suggested.
Katara's eyes lit up. "That's brilliant! At night, you can show me what Pakku teaches you. You get a practice partner, I get to learn waterbending—everybody wins!"
"I'm not happy," Sokka muttered.
"You're never happy," Katara said sweetly. "Come on, Aang."
By the canal, Aang bent water upward, explaining carefully. "Master Pakku says this move is about sinking and floating—controlling weight."
Katara mirrored his movement, sending the water upward in a sharp arc.
"That was amazing!" Aang cheered.
"That wasn't me," Katara said, confused.
The water froze abruptly midair, then shattered into icy shards that stabbed into the ground. Standing behind them, Pakku glared.
"You've disrespected me, my teachings, and my entire culture," he said coldly.
"I was just—" Aang began.
"You are no longer welcome as my student."
The following morning, the siblings, Aang, and Jinx were summoned before Chief Arnook, Master Pakku, and a circle of family members and advisors.
Aang stood nervously, Katara fumed beside him, and Sokka sulked in the corner.
And Jinx? Jinx sat calmly on a stone bench, halfway through eating a raw catfish he'd just dragged from the river, violet eyes lazy with amusement. Somehow, despite the blood and bones, he ate with such elegance that Yue herself, against her father's warning glance, reached over, tried a bite—and actually smiled.
Arnook's frown deepened. Pakku's jaw clenched.
And Jinx only smirked, licking his fingers as if daring them to admit that whatever he was, he had already slipped past their rules.
The air in the chamber was brittle, heavy with the cold weight of tradition. Katara stood at the center, fists clenched at her sides, while Chief Arnook and Master Pakku loomed from their places of authority. Aang shifted nervously beside her, eyes flicking between his friend and the elders, wishing the ground would open up and swallow the tension whole.
Arnook's voice was calm but edged with steel. "What do you want me to do, Katara? Force Master Pakku to take Aang back as his student?"
"Yes," Katara shot back, her voice cracking with desperation. "Please!"
Arnook's gaze softened, but only slightly. "I suspect he might change his mind… if you swallow your pride and apologize to him."
Katara inhaled sharply, her fists trembling. "Fine."
Pakku leaned forward, his eyes like frozen daggers. "I'm waiting, little girl."
The chamber went silent.
Katara's glare sharpened. "No." A tremor ran through the floor as her temper flared, the ice beneath their feet fracturing with faint cracks. "No way am I apologizing to a sour old man like you!" Two nearby pots of water shattered with the force of her will, shards of ice skittering across the floor.
"Uhhh… Katara?" Aang whispered, tugging at her sleeve.
But Katara was beyond hearing. She spun on her heel, her braid snapping against her shoulder as she stormed toward the door. "I'll be outside—if you're man enough to fight me!"
Yue gasped audibly, hands clasping together at her chest. The defiance hung in the air like a banner. Katara disappeared through the doors, leaving the chamber in stunned silence.
Jinx, perched casually on a bench near the side wall, watched the storm with a glint of admiration. He leaned toward Yue, his violet eyes glimmering with mischief. His voice was low, meant only for her:
"Damn. That girl's got balls. I approve."
Yue's eyes darted toward him, startled.
Jinx's smirk widened. "Bet you wish Sokka had the same set. You know… enough to just take you instead of fumbling around with carved fish."
Yue's entire face went scarlet, her composure breaking. Jinx swore, in that instant, that he saw literal steam curl from her ears. The sight nearly doubled him over in laughter, though he kept it to a hushed snicker.
The sound drew curious looks. Chief Arnook's eyes narrowed, confusion shadowing his face as he glanced at his daughter. Pakku, meanwhile, arched a single frosty eyebrow at Jinx, clearly unimpressed but unsettled by the exchange he couldn't quite decipher.
Jinx leaned back, grin still tugging at his lips, content to bask in the chaos Katara had left behind.