The village felt smaller now. Familiar faces blurred beneath the weight of Lee's new presence, his body no longer just that of a boy but a vessel for something ancient and restless.
He returned quietly, footsteps muffled by the darkened earth. The black blooms he'd summoned in the forest seemed to trail him like a shadow, a reminder of the power that now stirred within.
The elders exchanged uneasy glances. The Earth Kingdom patrol had come and gone with stories of a strange black aura in the forest—an omen whispered in fear.
But none dared approach Lee. None truly understood the depth of what had changed.
His old master's grave lay hidden beneath scorched pine and ash. Lee paused there, hands folded in silence. A memory flickered—words once spoken, a promise broken.
He whispered to the wind, "You called me a monster... but I was born in the fire."
The weight of their deaths—the shaman, the master—was a quiet burden in his chest, but it did not crack his resolve. No, it only sharpened it.
Everyone was a tool.
All attachments were weaknesses.
He was no longer a boy shaped by others' expectations.
He was the balance forged in shadow and flame.
But even now, as the village slept under a crescent moon, Lee's thoughts turned to the coming trials.
Koh, the Face Stealer, lurking in the depths of the spirit veil.
Stronger spirits stirring in unrest.
And the Fire Nation's war still raging, their flames licking closer each day.
He clenched his fist, feeling the power thrumming through his veins—the dark forest spirit's might bound to his will.
"I will become more," he promised himself.
"Stronger than any spirit. Sharper than any blade. The storm this world needs."
And with that, Lee disappeared into the night, a shadow among shadows, a promise written in fire and ash.