"I-It's Val-Hella! The realm of Spirits!" Shouted a scrawny Fire Knight sitting on a Northmen boat. "Look at that! It's real!"

"W-What is going on?" Inquired Verano as he opened his eyes. The voice awakened him. He tried to move his arms but water shackles tied his body. He felt dazed yet the northern lights painting the sky brightened his sights. He saw a colossal beacon of light reaching from the depths of the earth to the heart of the clouds. "The Northern Lights..."

"Silence! Inspärr!" Yelled a Northman tightening the water shackles binding their bodies. Their chains were like tentacles leaving his right arm. "Queen Thyra will speak!"

A fleet of Northman ships surrounded them in silence. They waited patiently for their ruler to raise her voice.

"Argh..." Bemoaned Verano, in pain. The cold wind tortured him and the absence of Arnaud was even colder. The beauty of the sky reminded him of his sister.

“Marzia…” He uttered her name as his eyelids weighed.

Thyra, a beautiful blonde-haired woman with blue eyes and full armor, walked towards the stem post of the ship. Her face was clean from all the blood that tainted her in Alba.

"Spirits of the Deep," she begun, "Vi har kommit från fjärran för att hedra er alla!"

"We came from far to honor you..." Translated a female squire with short black hair. "She's speaking the language of the Spirits."

"How do you know, Áine?"

"I'm from Alba."

Queen Thyra continued:

"Dessa människoffer är ett tecken på tacksamhet för dig välkomna våra fallna bröder i Val-Hella!"

"This männis-something is a token of gratitude for you welcoming our fallen brothers in Val-Hella..." Faltered Áine. "I think that's what she said, Juan."

“That’s weird. What's a människoffer? Some fish?" Asked Juan from Badajoz. Half his face was green.

"I don't know, Juan!" Recoiled Áine.

"I thought you knew their language! How can't you know that?"

"You barely know your own and you wanna lecture me about what I should and should not know?"

"Guys..." Faltered Verano. The ship trembled beneath them as the Northmen laughed.

"I think you are full of crap, Áine!" Continued Juan. "If you can't translate something, don't say you can! You always wanna steal the gazes!”

"You know what? Next time I should just let you die and keep my mouth shut."

"That'd be a change!"

The Northmen left their ship as Queen Thyra glared at Verano. His boat slowly dove into the cold waters.

"Argh..." Bemoaned Verano as the North Sea's gelid water spiked his legs.

His partners quarreled, obviously unaware:

"You're a spaniard pig, you knew that?" Teased Áine.

"Didn't you say you were gonna shut up, perra? You even looked pretty with a closed mouth."

"You filthy spaniard--"

"Stop, you two!" Shouted Verano. "We are the sacrifice, can't you see?"

The Northmen bended water into their boat. Eerie chants to the Spirits of the Deep echoed from the mist. Cold water reached their waists and froze them.

"W-W-What we are expected to do?" Faltered Juan.

"S-Survive!" Verano rose his mouth as high as he could. "I can't die here, I can't..." He closed his eyes and thought of Marzia. "I can't die--"

Thyra bended a body of water and knocked Verano down. He laid on the ship with his head in the water.

"There's enough water inside," said the Northman whose water tentacles immobilized the three prisoners. He faced the sinking ship. "Queen Thyra, just push the boat down and end the suffering of the vildes."

"No, Joël," she crossed her arms as she glared at the drowning Verano. "He shall freeze on the surface."

"This that you give him is not a warrior's death…”

“And?”

“This is not about the Spirits,” Joël faced her. "It's about you."

Thyra watched indifferent as Verano agonized while Áine and Juan dragged their bodies together as the coldness devoured them.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry for being so rude," faltered the Spaniard. His skin became white like snow.

"I-I-If we gon-gonna d-die now," she sobbed. "I-I don't want to die alone."

“I-I can’t…” Groaned Verano. His eyes flashed white as he felt his heart stopping with the cold.

"Halls of Val-Hella, what is that?" Faltered a Northman.

"I can't…" uttered Verano throwing a stare at Thyra that was as cold as the North Sea. "I can't die here!"

His eyes flashed white. He opened his mouth and a cloud of fire sprung against her. Thyra lifted her fists and three columns of water rose. The flames collapsed against them and a cloud of vapor formed.The white glow in Verano's eyes faded and Thyra bended water into his mouth like a muzzle.

“Close.” She rustled to herself.

"H-H-He's the Fenrhir! The White Wolf!" Exclaimed Joël as he took his helmet off. A beard as tall as the man sprung off his face. "I can't believe this. Queen Thyra, suspend this now!"

"Continue with the tribute," she ordered with her shield over her chest.

“We can’t, the prophecy…”

“Now!” Shouted Thyra as she stretched her right arm to bend water against Verano.

"Enough" Yelled an elderly voice. An old woman holding a staff walked towards Thyra. A tiny Spirit sat on her shoulder. "The Mouth of Val-Hella says the boy must live!"

All eyes of the fleet turned towards the elderly woman like planets surrounded stars.

Thyra faltered as she glanced towards her:

"Mother, please..."

"Queen Mother of the Western Tribe of the North Sea," she corrected her daughter, "interpreter of the Spirits and guardian of the traditions of our people! The matters of the Spirits of the Deep belong to the staff, not to the blade, Thyra! I order you to lower your weapons and suspend this sacrifice! Now!"

Thyra sheathed her blade. She glanced towards the ship as Waterbenders bended the water outside the vehicle. Verano and his comrades had lost consciousness.

"You won’t get away with this, boy," she tightened her fists as she glared at him. The memory of her brother lying dead on her arms hardened her heart. "You won't," she glared at the Northern Lights. “this is a promise, brother.

Verano woke up in a cell many days after. His body shivered as the doors to the dungeon sprung open and the cold wind from the north invaded the cell. He squeezed his eyes to face who walked through the prison.

"W-Where am I?" He asked.

A fist of cold water slapped his face.

"Stand," ordered Thyra. "You might have gotten lucky at the sea, but you will be my slave from now on," she smirked. "I'll make you wish you had died on that boat."

Verano slid his hands across his clothes as if ants crawled on his body.

"What is he doing?" Asked a Northman.

"Here!" Gasped Verano in relief. A stained map remained in his clothes. He frowned upon the center and Marzia's writing was still clear:

"Just so you never forget where your home is. Your beloved, Marzia."

Thyra kicked his chest.

"Pay attention when I’m talking to you,” she rose her voice. “And you,” she turned towards the Northmen guards. “Take him out of the cell," ordered Thyra. "He’ll meet the furnace.”

"I hate to disagree,” faltered a Northman, “but the Fenrhir hasn't yet recovered--"

"Stop calling him the Fenrhir."

"I'm sorry, Queen Thyra," faltered the Northman. "The slave hasn't yet recovered from the Cold Disease. He might die..."

"Better." She smirked towards Verano who struggled to stand. His olive skin was like ice. "Mother can't blame me if a cold wind kills him, can she?"

Thyra bended a leech and wrapped the boy's neck. She pulled him with her and dragged him across hallways of cells.

"V-Verano!" Shouted a Fire Knight with his hands on the metal bars of a cell. "Save us, Verano!"

"It's Verano, look! Shouted a priestess of the Church of Heaven's Shrine. "Blessed be the Guardian, the great Avatar has come to free us!"

“A-Avatar?” Bemoaned Verano as he wondered what was so great in him being dragged through the grimy ground.

"Verano! Verano!" Cheered a Fire Knight. "Save us, figlio!"

Verano lowered his head as if the hopes of all those people weighed upon his shoulders. He muttered to himself:

"Why’re they calling me the Avatar? What is going on?"

Thyra dragged him out of the dungeon and light invaded his eyes. Verano rose his hands to cover the Sun yet the light came from the veils of snow that covered the land. Thick wooden walls homed families and Spirits roamed the skies. Every face in the town covered the windows and balconies to face him.

"The Fenrhir..." Muttered a local with her hand over her mouth. "Are the End Times upon us?"

"Is it true a kid like him can Waterbend?" Chuckled a Northman. "Don't make me laugh."

Verano recoiled:

“Even these people…” His eyebrows widened. “Why are they talking about me?”

Thyra dragged him towards a huge cave and pushed him against the ground. He rose his head and saw a burning caldron with weapons inside. Firebenders punched fire against the wood beneath the metal to fuel the flames.

“Watch and learn,” explained Thyra, “This is your new home.”

"These weapons..." Faltered Verano as he stood up. "They are the ones that you use to kill us," he referred to the Fire Peoples. "Why are we helping--"

Thyra pushed him against the ground again.

"It’s for survival. The laziest of every season is sacrificed to the Spirits of the Deep. And you can bet, Fenrhir, Avatar or whatever they think you are..." She unsheathed her blade and the tip of the sword kissed his chin. "To me, you’re nothing but a murderer. And you’ll be treated as such.”

Verano turned his head away as the Queen left. He rose his sights to look around him and all he saw were older Fire Knights. He wondered how many of them already had their names on tombstones. They smiled at him and punched fire to fuel the caldron.

“Free us.” Rustled an old man stretching both hands against the caldron. Flames sprung out of his hands.

Tears rolled down Verano’s eyes as the thought that he would disappoint those slaves and end as one of them invaded his mind. "I can't end like this,” he uttered, “Marzia, she will..."

"Wait, brother?"

Verano heard Arnaud voice and a smile sprung off his morose face. He turned around and rose his arms to hug his brother.

“Shh! No!” Said Arnaud as he looked around. Elegant clothes and a moose's skull covered Arnaud's head like a helmet.

Two Northmen passed by and inspected the other Firebenders.

"Arnaud, you are alive!" Verano sighed in relief. "Your arm is..."

“Come with me for a while.”

Arnaud dragged towards the edge of a stream.

"I think it is safer here,” assumed the boy searching his surroundings. He sprung off his feet and hugged Verano. “And of course I'm alive! You saved me, man! You are awesome!"

"H-How come?"

"Don't you remember? You destroyed that Northman. It was epic!"

"Destroy?” Faltered Verano. “W-What are these ritualistic clothes?"

"Long story. The granny, the old woman, the Queen Mother..." Arnaud swallowed dry, "she thinks I'm her deceased husband that the Spirits brought back.

"That's..." Verano faltered. "Actually nice?"

An eerie elderly voice roamed around the village:

"Odoacer, where are you?"

Arnaud’s body became cold.

"Please help me, bro;" he held his brother's shoulder. "You're the only one who can."

"Me?" Verano chuckled. "Why me? I'm a slave!”

"You can Waterbend! You can Airbend! You can anybend!"

"W-What?"

"You see those people over there?" He pointed at armored people swinging blades and bending water by the edge of the stream. "They are there for the Rites of War. The Northman do not have nobles and plebs like us. They believe that any Waterbender who can survive the rites can be one of them. If you master their element, I'm sure you will."

"Arnaud, this is good and all, but…” Verano chuckled. “I can't waterbend!"

"Of course you can! You can firebend, airbend, anybend! You're the Avatar! Don't you remember?"

"This must be a mistake," chuckled Verano, "I'm not this Avatar. There is no Avatar, don't you remember what dad used to say?"

"Yes, there is one! Dad was full of crap!" Arnaud held his brother’s arms. "And you are this Avatar! You will take us away back home! Back to Marzia and mom! And food that does not taste like ice!"

Verano could only smile The expectations from the slaves piled upon his shoulder and threatened to crush him. He never thought of himself as more than a child.

"And there's more," Arnaud continued. "Hell, if you are the Avatar, you're gonna wipe them all! Nobody can stop you! Just like that witch Queen's brother got wiped."

"Wait, what?" Faltered Verano.

"You killed him, don't you remember?"

"It was a nightmare, wasn't it? I only remember thrusting my sword..."

"You destroyed that guy. And an entire forest. If we can get away from here, you can even kill the Caliph too. Cielo, you can change the world! Heinrich's tigress will look like a kitten next to you! And there’s just so much more…”

Verano stared confused at Arnaud as his brother spoke. He could not understand why the slaves glared at him and why Arnaud could not stop talking about his amazing future. The calls for help from his jail mates echoed in his head. He heard of what he was supposed to achieve yet the blood from Thyra's brother weighed on his arms. His joyful face after meeting his brother collapsed into despair. Verano faltered:

"I never..." He sobbed. "I'm sorry, Arnaud. I'm not the Avatar," Verano's lips trembled, "I can't be. That ain't me. I just want to go home. I can't decide what's the best for me, how can I decide for anyone else? I can't decide who lives and who dies..."

"Wait, you are feeling sorry for what happened in Alba? He was gonna kill both of us. And his sister is no better. If you stay a slave, she'll just find a way to kill you, man! Wake up!"

"It's that I understand her..." Verano faltered as she thought about Thyra. "I'd be doing the same if it had been you or Marzia who had died."

"Whatever, bro, listen," Arnaud looked left and right. "You're gonna survive Thyra; learn that element, pass those rites and get us back home. You may think that you can't..." he smiled. "But I know that you can conquer the world if you want. We do not choose our destinies. I did not choose to be born this handsome, but it just happened! Your destiny is to be the Avatar. If you can't do this for yourself, do it for her."

An elderly voice spoke loud:

"Odoacer, I think I hear you!"

Arnaud swallowed dry as he embraced his brother for a last time:

"Do it for me!"

The Queen Mother dragged the boy away. Verano stored as much as he could from his brother's faith in him.

Verano frowned upon the cold stream and saw the distant glare of Thyra. She watched over her village from the balcony of the warlord’s palace. Her eyes laid morosely upon those who had died in the invasion of Alba. They sight fueled her rage to punish the Fire Peoples.

Verano grasped the map that Marzia had given him.

“I understand now,” he smiled. “They have a home where to they wish to return,” he referred to Alba, the territory that the Empire of the Holy Flame took from the Northmen. “They have fallen that they wish to avenge and they also cry for the dead when they fall. When they are hurt, they bleed just like we do. Avatar or not, I just know one thing,” he frowned upon his hands. “I won’t ever kill again. Death has inspired many things in the Wild Lands and peace is not one of them. I’ll come back home for Marzia and prove to both peoples that we are only different at being the same.”

Queen Thyra returned into her chambers and laid her eyes upon a map of the Kingdom of Alba. Plans for a massive attack stamped the image. Allied ships from the Eastern Tribe of the North Sea joined her plans. She frowned upon her brother’s helmet and spoke along with Verano:

"Nothing will stand in my way."