Morning broke across the forest with dull light filtering through the canopy. The fire had long since died, leaving only cold ash and the faint smell of smoke. Fang Yuan stirred from his shallow rest, not because he'd slept deeply—but because he never truly slept.
Dreams no longer came to him. Not like they used to. In their place were impressions—impossible shapes, whispers in languages he didn't remember learning, and distant, golden eyes watching from behind veils of shadow.
He rose, rolling his shoulder. The brief skirmish last night hadn't left a mark on him, but it had changed something. The man cloaked in shadow—unnatural, precise, and impossibly well-informed—had vanished, but the weight of his words lingered like smoke caught in his lungs.
"You were never meant to live this long."
Fang Yuan crouched beside the remains of the fire and touched the ashes. Cold. Lifeless.
The trees were listening.
The silence was too perfect.
'Fuck this shit... Maybe it's time I get really serious about this golden chance that I got
I need to think like those characters who somehow got themselves into situations like these'
He closed his eyes and reached inward, sinking past muscle and memory, into that wellspring of elemental breath. Air stirred faintly around him. Beneath the soil, stone murmured in shifting plates. Water hummed in the sap of trees. Fire flickered in the warmth of his chest, aching to be loosed.
And above it all… that fifth feeling. That absence.
The thing that wasn't an element—but the gap between them. The void between harmony. He still didn't understand it. But it was growing stronger. Louder.
A twig snapped behind him.
His eyes opened.
This time it wasn't shadowy assassins. It was a child—barely ten, with messy hair and clothes too big for his thin frame. He froze when Fang Yuan turned.
For a moment, neither moved. The forest held its breath.
Then the child blinked. " Who are you?... You're not from around here."
Fang Yuan stood slowly. "Neither are you, if you're sneaking through trees instead of in a classroom."
The boy tilted his head. "There are no schools here. Just the forest and the rivers. I saw your fire last night. Thought maybe you left and left something here."
"Disappointed?"
The boy shrugged. "A little."
Fang Yuan studied him. His clothes were patchwork—stitchwork from many hands. Not poor, but maybe. One of the outliers. Nomadic or orphaned. The kind that slipped through cracks, invisible to nations and wars alike.
"You have a name?" he asked.
"Ren," the boy said. "You?"
"...Yuan."
"Like the coin?"
Fang Yuan smiled faintly. "Sure."
Ren approached, more curious than afraid. "Are you one of those traveling monks? You don't look like one. You've got a sword. Monks don't carry swords and they are usually bald you know."
"I'm no monk," Fang Yuan replied. "But I travel."
"Where to?"
"Where I'm needed."
Ren frowned. "That doesn't mean anything."
Fang Yuan gave a slight shrug. "Most answers don't."
They sat in silence for a time, the boy content to poke at the embers while Fang Yuan watched the shifting trees. The forest was changing. Roots were creeping in unnatural directions. Moss growing faster than it should. The life here was... reacting to something.
"Do you live nearby?" he asked finally.
"Down by the valley," Ren said, gesturing. "But Mama and Papa are gone. It's just old Hiko and the others now."
"How many?"
"Seven. Not counting me."
Fang Yuan thought for a moment. 'Seven villagers. A forgotten hamlet. Just close enough to a Fire Nation border to be ignored by everyone else'.
"I'll walk you back." Said Fang_Yuan as he stood up
Ren perked up. "You're not one of those kidnappers, are you?"
"No. I'm the opposite of that."
"What's the opposite of a kidnapper?"
Fang Yuan looked at him. "Someone who makes sure nothing takes you."
.
.
.
...
The village was smaller than he expected. Just four homes, a fishing pier, and a shrine half-eaten by ivy. It was quiet—unnaturally so. A village should breathe. Chickens, people, laughter or argument. But this one felt like a graveyard pretending to be alive.
Old Hiko was the first to meet them. A man with one good eye and a back curved like a river stone, he eyed Fang Yuan with suspicion sharpened by years of caution.
"We don't take kindly to strangers."
Fang Yuan bowed slightly. "I'm not looking for kindness. Just shelter for a day or two "
Ren cut in. "He protected me, Hiko. From wolves. With fire."
Fang Yuan winced inwardly. So much for subtlety.
Hiko scowled. "Wolves, huh? That's what you call it? I don't remember having wolves around here"
"I didn't start the fight," Fang Yuan said. "But if something is hunting through these woods… it's not ordinary."
The old man held his gaze a moment longer, then turned. "You're not the first outsider this month. And the I don't have a good impression on you people either, always bringing trouble with you, how can I be sure that you are not just seeking refugees in our village from people looking for you?."
"No I'm not like that, I'm just a man who is lost and tired"
Words filled with politeness, with no hint of a lie
"We will see, truth tend to reveal itself when time comes. Someone take show him a place to stay". with those words the old man left
It was Ren who guided Fang_Yuan all the way to where he would be staying.
It was an abandoned shrine located on small hill that overlook the small village.
"When don't use this place so it's kind dirt, I hope you don't take this as an insult from the old man"
"No don't worry, I'm really grateful that he even allowed me to stay so I think this is enough.. I'll clean it anyway so don't worry"
"I wish I could help with the clean up but I got go see the old man he seem mad that I brought you to the village, so I'll come later"
"You go see him, I'll finish things here before you return"
" okay bye"
.
.
.
.
That night, Fang Yuan slept lightly, lying atop the roof of the abandoned shrine. Below him, the villagers lit no fires. They feared attracting attention.
But the forest did not sleep.
Somewhere in the darkness, something stirred. A presence... It felt… constructed. Woven from many threads. It watched, but not with eyes. It listened for imbalance.
Fang Yuan sat up slowly, letting his breathing slow, letting the elements settle into their places around him.
Water in the mist.
Earth beneath the roof tiles.
Air in the wind.
Fire in the center of his chest.
He exhaled.
And the presence recoiled.
It wasn't afraid of him—but it recognized him now.
It knew he was awake.
And it would come.