Sukuna: The Last Sorcerer (ATLA SI)
Sukuna: The Last Sorcerer
Book 1: Fire
The Boy In The Volcano
Fire. Air. Water. Earth.
In the days of old, long before the Fire Nation was founded, before the Air Nomads claimed superiority, before the Water Tribes attempted to fight their betters and before the Earth Kingdom rose from the mud. When the spirits roamed the world unchecked, a firebender of immense power rose to power. His name lost to the ages, this firebender mastered the ancient art of chi magic, his power further enhanced by the blessing of a powerful spirit, the unnamed enemy of the Avatar Spirit. With this power, this bender we know as the Dark Avatar, set out to tame the unruly spirits and make them serve the needs of our people.
Under the Dark Avatar’s rule, the Fire Nation flourished like never before. The spirits, who had once brought only chaos and destruction, were now forced to provide bountiful harvests, calm the raging seas, and protect our people from harm. The Dark Avatar’s fame grew, and they became a symbol of the Fire Nation’s strength and prosperity.
But the Avatar, envious of the Dark Avatar’s power and influence, sought to undo their great work. In a terrible battle, the Avatar confronted the Dark Avatar, seeking to destroy them and release the spirits from their rightful servitude.
Though the Dark Avatar fought bravely, they were gravely wounded by the Avatar’s treachery. Seeking to preserve their legacy, the Dark Avatar fled to a small village, where they found a young firebender of great potential. Using the last of their strength, the Dark Avatar imbued the boy with their essence, granting him the power to control the spirits and carry on their work.
The Avatar, in their foolishness, sealed the boy away, trapping him deep beneath the earth. But the Dark Avatar’s spirit lives on within our royal blood, guiding us on our path to lead the world.
It was the example of the Dark Avatar that inspired your great-grandfather, Fire Lord Sozin, to begin the glorious expansion of our nation. He knew that it was our destiny to follow in the Dark Avatar’s footsteps, to harness the power of the spirits and bend the world to our will.
Since then, the Dark Avatar has been a hidden figure of worship within our family, revered as a paragon of firebending prowess and unyielding ambition. We pray to them, alongside the great spirit Agni, for the strength and wisdom to carry on their noble work.
Remember this tale, Azula, and let it be a fire that burns within your heart, guiding you towards your destiny. For you are a child of the flame, and the will of the Dark Avatar flows through your veins.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
The volcano loomed over the island, a colossal monument to the raw power of the earth. Its slopes were a tapestry of jagged obsidian and smoldering embers, the air shimmering with heat as if the very ground was alive with flame. The rocky terrain was unforgiving, each step a treacherous negotiation with the uneven ground. A blast of heat wafted up from the depths of the volcano, carrying with it the acrid scent of brimstone and ash. The rocky ground trembled beneath her feet, a low rumble emanating from the earth’s core.
Fists lashed out, striking at the air with precision and force. Each punch was a declaration of intent, a statement of power and control. Her sleeves snapped like whips with each motion, as. trickles of sweat ran down the sides of her face, the silk of her training uniform clinging to her skin.
Still, Azula paid no heed to the discomfort, her golden eyes narrowed in focus.
Fists continued to snap forward, precise and controlled, each strike accompanied by a sharp exhalation. Flames burst forth from her knuckles, flickering tongues of heat in a pale blue that seared the air before her. The fire was intense, concentrated – a testament to her prodigious skill. But as she watched the flames dissipate into the shimmering heat, a flicker of dissatisfaction crossed her features.
“Your form is excellent, Princess Azula,” one of the Fire Sages remarked, his voice thin and reedy with age as it carried across the volcanic crater. “But remember, true mastery of firebending comes not just from control, but from the ability to let the flame within you burn freely.”
Azula’s jaw clenched, her lip tightening as a flicker of annoyance passed over her features. As if I need to be reminded of the basics, she thought, her golden eyes narrowing. She, who had been proclaimed a prodigy from the moment she first summoned a flame? Her form was flawless, each movement executed with precision and grace.These old fools should be groveling at my feet, not offering me advice.
She launched into another series of punches, each one producing a tight burst of blue flame that shot forth with speed any firebender would dream of achieving. The fire was concentrated, intense, yet lacking in the sheer size and breadth that Azula sought. Why? She could feel the chi flowing through her body, a tingling energy that suffused her very being. With each breath, she drew upon that power, channeling it down her arms and into her clenched fists.
Why? she asked herself again, her brow furrowing in concentration. Why can’t I seem to generate the power I need? I’ve mastered every firebending form, every technique. She had always prided herself on her control, on the absolute mastery she held over her bending. To let go of that, to embrace the chaos and passion of the flame… it went against everything she had ever been taught. This should be child’s play.
Another sage spoke up, his voice a low rumble that seemed to emanate from the depths of the earth itself. “Firebending is unique among the elements, young princess. It comes not from the world around us, but from the burning fire within our own hearts. To truly master it, you must learn to let that fire consume you, to surrender to its power.”
Azula resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Surrender? I am a princess of the Fire Nation. I surrender to nothing and no one.
She dropped into the Fire Fist stance once more, her body a perfect mirror of the countless soldiers she had seen drilling in the palace courtyards. It was a basic form, one that even Zuko had managed to master years ago. The thought of her brother, the banished prince, exceeding her only fueled Azula’s frustration.
Even Zuzu could do this, she thought bitterly. And yet here I am, struggling like some common peasant.
Another sage stepped forward, his wizened features creased with concern. “Remember, Princess, the flame is an extension of your inner self. To achieve true power, you must let go of your fear and embrace the fire within you.”
Azula’s gaze snapped to the sage, her eyes flashing dangerously. “I am not afraid,” she said, her voice soft yet laced with an undercurrent of steel. “And I do not need your lectures on how to bend.”
“And yet…” the sage spoke again, “you are here regardless.”
Azula punched again, harder this time, her fist a blur of motion as she ignored the presumptuous words of the last sage, refusing to accept his point. The resulting fireball was larger, but still not enough.
Any bender her age would be proud of it.
Not Princess Azula.
Not the girl who had been hailed as a prodigy since the day she first bent flame.
“Your chi is too tightly controlled,” another sage interjected, his voice cutting through the haze of her frustration. “You must let it flow freely, allow it to mingle with the energy of the volcano itself.”
Azula gritted her teeth, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists even tighter. She could feel the chi within her, pulsing and thrumming like a living thing. With each breath, she drew upon that power, feeling it surge through her veins like molten fire.
And yet, no matter how much she focused, no matter how much she willed it to be so, the flames that burst forth remained stubbornly small and controlled. A tight, focused bolt of fire, no wider than her fist, lancing out across the crater with pinpoint precision.
It was maddening, this inability to achieve the raw, unbridled power she sought. Azula was a perfectionist, relentlessly drilling herself to achieve mastery in all aspects of her bending. To be thwarted by something as simple as letting go of control… it galled her, a bitter taste in the back of her throat.
“You must let go, Princess Azula,” another sage intoned, his voice a gentle whisper against the roar of the volcano. “Let go of your need for control, your desire for perfection. Only then will you find the true power within you.”
Azula could feel her frustration mounting, a simmering rage that bubbled up from deep within her. She was the daughter of the Fire Lord, a prodigy in her own right. How dare these sages presume to tell her how to bend? How dare they imply that she was somehow lacking?
The lava in the volcano began to bubble and churn, as if responding to her rising emotions. Tendrils of smoke curled up from the crater’s depths, writhing in the shimmering heat. Azula paid it no heed, her focus entirely on the flames that burst forth from her fists. “There is nothing for me to let go of. I will master this as I have mastered everything else in front of me.”
The sage merely smiled, his weathered face creasing with amusement. “Ah, but that is precisely the problem, young princess. You are so focused on what you believe you must be that you have forgotten what you are. You are a slave to your own expectations, a prisoner of your own making. Set yourself free and your flames will follow.”
Azula’s hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. The sheer audacity of this old fool. To speak to her in such a manner. It was unthinkable, a transgression that would normally be met with swift and brutal punishment.
The sages continued to offer their advice, their voices blending together in a cacophony of unwanted guidance. Azula’s jaw clenched tighter with each passing moment, her frustration a palpable thing that crackled in the air around her.
And then, without warning, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble. A low, ominous rumble echoed up from the depths of the volcano, the lava within churning and bubbling with renewed intensity. Azula’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features as she stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the sudden movement.
“An eruption?” one of the sages gasped, his voice tinged with fear.
“Now?” another questioned, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“How could this be?” a third cried out, his face pale beneath the red of his robes.
Azula’s eyes widened as the ground beneath her feet began to tremble, the vibrations growing more intense with each passing second. The Fire Sages around her stumbled, their faces etched with fear and disbelief. The volcano, once a symbol of power and spirituality, had turned against them, its fury unleashed in a terrifying display of nature’s might.
“Princess!” one of the sages cried out, his voice trembling with panic.
Azula’s gaze snapped to the old man, her golden eyes flashing with annoyance. “Cease your screaming and move, Sages!” she commanded, her tone sharp and unyielding. She had no time for their fear, no patience for their weakness.
Without waiting for a response, Azula turned and began to run down the mountain, her strides long and purposeful. The steps beneath her feet trembled and shook, the ancient stone cracking under the immense pressure of the volcano’s rage. Behind her, she could hear the Fire Sages scrambling to keep up, their robes flapping in the hot, ash-filled wind.
Azula’s youth and energy kept her at the front of the pack, her body moving with a grace and fluidity that belied the chaos unfolding around her. She didn’t bother to glance back at the old men struggling to keep pace – their lives were in their own hands, not hers.
As they reached the base of the mountain, the earth beneath their feet began to crack and split apart, the force of the volcano’s rumbling sending Azula and her attendants tumbling to the ground. The princess rolled to her feet with practiced ease, her eyes widening as she stared up at the fractured ground before her.
The earth shattered open, exposing the searing heat and blinding light of raw lava to the daylight. A pillar of flame, dense and powerful, burst forth from the crevice, its force enough to push Azula and the sages back. The princess raised an arm to shield her face from the intense heat, her mouth falling open in a mix of awe and disbelief.
The flame shot high into the heavens, a column of red and yellow that seemed to touch the sky itself. Azula could feel her chi stirring within her, the raw power of the volcano resonating with her own inner fire. It was a sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced before, a rush of energy that left her breathless.
As quickly as it had appeared, the pillar of flame faded, leaving behind a jagged scar in the earth. Azula continued to stare at the spot, her heart racing with anticipation. Something was about to happen, she could feel it in her bones.
Sure enough, the ground rumbled once more, the cracks in the earth widening further. Azula’s eyes narrowed, her body tensing as she prepared for whatever was to come. What could possibly-
Her thoughts were cut short as a figure emerged from the massive crevice, crawling out of the depths of the volcano itself. It was a boy, shirtless and seemingly unbothered by the searing heat of the lava that spilled out around him. His body was shrouded in a pale blue flame, so light that Azula could see straight through it.
But it was the boy’s appearance that truly caught Azula’s attention. His skin was darker than anything she had ever seen, his hair rough and lacking the smoothness of her own. And his features… they were different, foreign in a way that she couldn’t quite place.
If that wasn’t enough to mark him as an oddity, the boy’s chest and face were littered with glowing scarlet markings – tattoos of various sorts. Azula’s eyes widened as recognition dawned on her. She had been taught about these markings, had learned of their significance in the earlier days of the Fire Nation. They were used to mark criminals, specifically thieves and murderers.
The boy’s next words only served to confirm Azula’s suspicions. Giggles spilled from his mouth as he raised his hands, the sound quickly shifting to outright laughter. It was a maniacal sound, terrifying in its intensity as the boy’s face twisted into a grotesque expression.
“Finally, after ten thousand years, I’m free!” he exclaimed, his voice rough yet alluring. He threw his arms out to the sides, his eyes passing over Azula and the five Fire Sages with a gleam of malice. “What a wonderful era to be reawakened! Nothing but weakness as far as I can sense! It’ll be a mass-“
Before the boy could finish his words, the volcano rumbled once more, the sound deafening in its intensity. Azula gasped, her eyes widening as she saw the volcano erupt in full force, large molten rocks shooting out of its mouth and hurtling directly towards them.
Instinctively, Azula shut her eyes, bracing herself for the impact. She had faced death before, had stared it in the face without flinching, but this… this was different. There was no escape, no way to fight back against the raw power of nature itself.
But then, the boy spoke once more.
“Open,” he said, voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. Flames burst to life in his hand, the boy actually holding it on and against the skin of his hand, flush against flesh rather than above it.
How? How is he doing that?
Both hands came together as the flame was squished flat between his palms, peeking through each finger and licking against his flesh with seemingly no harm done to him. His palms spread apart as the roiling flames seemed to flow, attached to both palms yet being molded to his will as he shaped it. Finally, he held one arm straight out in front of him, two fingers curled into a clawed position while he drew back the other as if pulling a bowstring, the flame following the path of the motion and forming a literal arrow of flame in his grasp.
The force of the flame was unlike anything Azula had ever felt before. It was immense, the heat and force of it choking the air from her lungs. Even the lava paled in comparison to the raw power that emanated from the boy’s hands.
Yet that wasn’t what enraptured her. Shaping flame like this? How?
With a flick of his wrist, the boy released the arrow of flame, the motion so fast that it seemed to vanish from his grasp. Azula’s head snapped to the side, her eyes tracking the path of the flame as it hurtled towards the falling rocks.
The impact was explosive, the force of it sending a shudder through the air. The molten rocks shattered into a million pieces, reduced to nothing more than dust and ash in the wake of the boy’s attack, falling like rain and smoke to the ground.
Azula turned back to the boy, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and fear. He was powerful, more powerful than anything she had ever encountered before. And yet, there was something about him that drew her in.
The boy pointed a finger at her, his eyes glowing with an inhuman light that matched the glow of his markings. “You,” he said, his voice commanding and authoritative.
Azula rose to her feet, meeting the boy’s gaze with a defiant stare of her own. She took in his appearance once more – the dark skin, the red eyes, the glowing tattoos that seemed permanently etched into his flesh. “I assume you’re speaking to me, spirit?” she asked, her voice steady despite the fear that thrummed through her veins.
“Spirit?” the boy repeated, one eyebrow raised in amusement. He shook his head and scoffed, as if the very idea was beneath him. “Doesn’t matter. You’re that delicious roiling pit of hate, pride, and barely restrained murder I felt from down there, aren’t you?
“…” Azula stared silently at the spirit creature in front of her, the being seemingly calm compared to its first few moments above ground. The urge to answer warred with the shock at being seen through so completely.
“I asked you a question, little girl,” the spirit spoke again. “Bad things happen to those that make me repeat myself.”
The princess’s golden eyes flickered over to the sages behind her, almost expecting — hoping — one of those busybodies to finally say something that would rescue her from the spirit’s sole attention. Unfortunately, all five of them seemed to still be in shock. Of course.
Steeling herself, Azula spoke up. “I suppose I must be, Lord Spirit.”
The being in front of her let out a laugh, this one far more dignified than the few she had heard from it before. “Lord? I prefer… King.” He let out another deep laugh, his chest rumbling wih a voice that did not match his appearance. Finally, after what felt like far too long, the laughter came to a stop and he shot Azula a look so lacking in humor that nearly made her take a step back. “Take care of the boy for me, little girl. I expect my vessel to be treated comfortably.”
With those words, the red glow of the boy’s tattoos faded to black, the aura of blue flame that surrounded him vanishing into thin air. His eyes fluttered shut, and a moment later, he slumped forward, collapsing to the cooling lava on the ground in a heap.
Azula stared down at the unconscious boy, her mind racing with possibilities. A slow smile spread across her face as realization dawned on her. Finally.
She turned to the Fire Sages behind her, the knowing smile still playing at the corners of her lips. “Honored Sages,” she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity, “prepare a messenger hawk to my father and tell my men to ready my ship.”
One of the sages stepped forward, his gray beard quivering with fear. “Princess,” he began, his gaze still locked on the boy at Azula’s feet.
But Azula cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Now is not the time to challenge me, Honored Sage,” she said, her voice cold and unyielding. “Announce to my father that I have discovered the Dark Avatar.”