Chapter Text
The masked ones were once a society of beings, similar to spirits, but not.
Wearing bone-colored masks upon their faces, no one knows if they have a face beneath the mask.
Aang had heard the monks whispering of these beings. Revered as masters of soul. Other nations ignored the possibility of this hidden kingdom of mask-wearers. Most regarded it as a myth.
Ever since the fire nation wiped out every last one of the airbenders, including their nonbending descendants, talk of the masters of soul faded from common memory.
When the gaang arrived at the closest air temple, Aang was hopeful. perhaps he would find monk Gyatso! and maybe he could prove to everyone that the masked ones were real.
The water tribes kept the stories of the masked ones alive, something Aang appreciated, although Sokka’s stubbornness that they don’t exist has been starting to grate on Aang’s ears.
“Aang! For the last time, these “masked ones” are just a myth!” Sokka said, fed up with the child they had found trapped in ice (how he had survived within it was beyond Sokka’s care). Katara smacked him, causing Sokka to yelp.
[they arrive to the temple.]
Aang is sure someone (or something) is still around. He can feel the pressure in the air for spirits sake! and Appa is acting wary and he never does that!
Sokka disagrees. He says it’s likely just a storm in the distance.
There are no clouds in the sky.
Aang gives Sokka a look.
“Maybe it’s just a very far away storm!” Sokka says, defending himself.
The trio splits up on katara’s insistence (as much as she wants to stay with the others, sokka is getting on her nerves), with Aang exploring the more intact parts of the temple.
Sokka stays by Appa “i’m out here because Appa is scared!” (Appa is not scared. Sokka is lying).
There is a door. It’s a beautifully crafted thing, with horn protrusions for airbending to enter as the key.
Aang knows that no one has been inside the room behind the door. It’s impossible without an airbender (or the avatar), and according to the water siblings, the airbenders don’t live at the temple anymore (for some odd reason). [Aang has yet to find the monk and the water siblings have been steering Aang away from the bones]
Aang airbends the lock. A haunting sound echos from the door as it opens inward.
The room inside is pitch black, as if stained by darkness.
Statues of the previous avatars are seen, spiraling into a circle.
They are the only things visible within.
A masked creature lurks in the shadows, having been woken by the opening of the door. A visitor? it thinks, tilting it’s head. the door has been sealed for decades. How odd for the air ones to open it now.
The creature watches as aang surveys the room. Aang has yet to spot it, crouched behind one of the many statues.
It coaxes the shadows to surround it, asks the darkness to help it in its mischief. Faint laughter is the response, as the masked one sneaks up upon the avatar, hidden from view.
Aang can feel a presence, a pressure at the back of his mind. Laughter that sounds faintly throughout the wide room.
“Hello, little avatar! how nice of you to visit! I haven’t had a visitor in years! It is so lonely here, wouldn’t you agree?”