Sigh... I guess after all this time, death finally caught up to me.
It wasn't a long life, or even an exciting one. But I tried my best.
At least I'll be dying with my favorite show playing—Avatar: The Last Airbender. The colors blur on the screen as my vision dims, but a strange calm settles over me. A final thought lingers:
What if I had been in the sequel? The Legend of Korra. Could I have changed anything? Could I have helped?
I'll never know.
But oddly enough... I feel at peace.
As Musuko drifts away, his breath slows. His limbs grow heavy. The world fades into stillness.
And then... darkness.
Why am I so cold?
The sensation is immediate and jarring. I feel like ice water is seeping through my skin, curling into my bones. My joints ache. My breath clouds in the air.
A wind howls in the distance.
"Welcome, traveler."
I spin around. "Who said that?" I call out, my voice rasping in the air.
"I am the Guardian of Purgatory," comes the voice again—smooth and ancient, like stone shaped by time. "You have a long journey ahead of you. But for now... let's get you warm."
The scene changes.
I now sit across from the one who spoke. The Guardian. He's hooded and ageless, sitting by a crackling fire with two cups of steaming tea between us.
Despite the warmth, a chill still clings to me.
"There are three gates," the Guardian says, his voice calm and even. "Each holds a trial. These tests will determine your fate in the afterlife."
I wrap my hands around the tea, letting the heat seep in. "What happens... if I fail?"
"If you fail all three," he says without hesitation, "you will descend into hell. If you pass only two, you will remain here, in purgatory, wandering until your soul crumbles into nothing. But if you pass all three…"
He looks up, eyes glowing faintly beneath the hood.
"You will be granted what your soul desired most in life."
I stare into the fire.
"I would like to start as soon as possible."
"Very well," the Guardian replies, standing. His cloak flows behind him like shadow.
We walk together along a narrow corridor made of mist and memory. At the end stand three spiraling portals, each glowing with an otherworldly light—one white, one grey, and one golden.
He gestures toward the white portal. "Your first test lies within."
As I step into the portal, a strange warmth surrounds me—not comforting warmth, but heavy and unnatural, like a thick fog I can breathe yet feel drowning in. It clings to my skin like oil.
When the sensation passes, I open my eyes.
The sky is blackened with thunderclouds. Below, a violent sea slams against jagged cliffs. The wind screams through the air. Lightning forks across the sky.
Neither the storm nor the sea seems to win. They tear into each other endlessly, locked in a battle of fury and force.
The chaos stirs something in me. A deep, gnawing sadness.
A voice rises inside my head.
"I am the spirit of the first gate. Your task is simple: climb the mountain behind you. At the summit, you will find the Fruit of Knowledge. When you have it, cast it into the sea. Then you shall be free."
I turn.
Behind me stands a towering mountain I hadn't noticed before—its peak lost in clouds. Wind coils around it like a living thing.
There's no path forward but up.
I begin on a narrow trail carved into the mountainside. Each step is a struggle. Wind lashes against me, and icy sea spray stings my face. The stone beneath my feet is slick and uneven.
Still, I press on.
After what feels like hours, I reach a small ledge. I glance up. I've barely climbed fifty feet.
Seriously?
I look down. The ocean rages below, and the wind roars even louder up here. My breath fogs in front of me. The cold is sinking into my bones.
But I can't stop.
I start to scale the jagged rocks, hands gripping narrow holds, skin scraping against the stone. The air is thin. My arms burn. My chest tightens.
Then—slip.
A sharp cry escapes me as my foot catches on a slick edge. My heel scrapes down the rock, slicing open on a jagged point. Warm blood runs down my foot, leaving red streaks against the grey.
I grit my teeth and pull myself up onto the next ledge.
There, a dense jungle sprawls out before me.
The trees are thick and gnarled. Mist coils through the underbrush. The leaves rustle unnaturally, as if whispering secrets.
I step in, wary.
Time blurs in the silence.
I walk in a straight line for what must be half an hour—only to find myself back at the cliff's edge.
What the hell?
I try again, this time marking the trees with scratches from a sharp stone. I move carefully, tracking my progress.
And yet—back at the start.
Frustration begins to mount.
I try a third time. I place sticks in the shape of arrows, carefully arranged to point the way.
Still... the jungle loops back on itself. Like it's alive. Like it's playing with me.
I sit down, exhausted. My foot still throbs, and the cold never truly left me. Sweat mixes with mist on my brow.
A bitter feeling builds inside.
Helpless. Lost. Angry.
"What am I doing Wrong!" I shout into the trees. My voice echoes back at me, small and mocking.
I bury my head in my hands. My breath trembles.
And that's when it happens.
In the stillness, as my mind begins to quiet... I notice something.
A smell.
Sweet. Subtle. Like fresh fruit. Like honey and spring air.
Was that always there?
I lift my head slowly. The scent is faint, carried on the breeze—but it's real. And for the first time in this cursed jungle, it feels like something wants to be found.
I stand.
Eyes closed.
I follow the scent. Carefully. Slowly.
First a few steps forward. Then a turn to the left. A slight right. I let my instincts guide me, not my frustration. Not logic. Just... presence.
Step by step.
The jungle thins.
Branches part.
And there it is.
The mountain wall.
I've made it through.
I brace myself for one last climb.
The stone is slick, but the scent grows stronger as I ascend. I push through the pain, through the biting wind, until I reach the top.
There, growing from a slender tree dancing in the wind, hangs a single fruit—glowing faintly, golden in color.
The Fruit of Knowledge.
I reach out.
It comes off with ease.
I walk to the edge of the cliff and look out over the raging sea. Then, without hesitation, I hurl the fruit into the crashing waves below.
A soft light fills the air.
The spirit appears, formed of wind and shifting mist.
"Musuko," it says. "You have completed the task. But before you pass, tell me—what did you learn?"
I pause.
I take a breath.
"The mountain taught me about hardship," I say. "About pain, and perseverance. That even when it feels impossible, progress only comes if you keep moving forward."
I glance behind me, toward the jungle.
"And the forest... it taught me that brute strength doesn't solve everything. Sometimes, you have to slow down. Listen. Pay attention. Adapt."
The spirit is silent for a moment.
Then it nods.
"I am pleased. You have earned the blessing of the Earth Spirit. You may return to the Guardian."
A new portal opens beside me, shimmering like moonlight on water.
"Go now. And leave me be."