Chapter 7: The Ghost of the Peaks
Word Count: ~1,500
The Southern Air Temple sat atop the Patola Mountain range like a crown of white marble and blue tile. For Aang, it was a homecoming. For Silver, it was a cemetery.
As Appa landed on the high plazas, the silence was heavy. Silver hopped down, his boots clicking on the ancient stone. Using his Chi-Vision, he didn't see the vibrant, swirling golden energy of thousands of monks. He saw... nothing. Just the cold, thin air and the lingering "stain" of soot from a century ago.
"It's... quiet," Katara whispered, clutching her parka.
"They're probably just inside!" Aang shouted, his voice echoing off the peaks. "Probably having a council meeting! Or a giant cake party! Monk Pasang loved cake!"
Silver watched the boy sprint toward the main gates. He felt a pang in his chest—a mix of his own empathy and the Vitality pulse he was subconsciously sending to Aang to keep the kid's spirits up.
"Silver," Sokka muttered, pointing at a rusted, jagged piece of metal half-buried in the snow. "That's Fire Nation armor. A lot of it."
Silver walked over, his eyes narrowing. He didn't just see armor; he saw the way the stone around it had been scorched. "Yeah. Old models. From the start of the war."
"We should tell him," Katara said, her eyes watering.
"Not yet," Silver said, his voice low. "Let him have the hope for five more minutes. Sokka, keep your club ready. I don't like the look of those shadows."
They followed Aang into the temple. The architecture was stunning—designed for people who lived with the wind. Huge, open circular windows and spiraling staircases that led to nowhere.
Suddenly, a blur of fur and big ears hissed from behind a pillar.
"A Firebender!" Sokka yelled, lunging with his spear.
"Sokka, wait!" Silver shouted, but it was too late. The "Firebender" turned out to be a small, wide-eyed lemur with wings. It shrieked and took off, flying straight into a dark corridor.
"Food!" Sokka yelled, his stomach growling. "I mean... enemy! Follow it!"
"It's a lemur, Sokka, not a snack," Silver groaned, but he followed anyway.
They chased the creature into a large, circular room. Aang was already there, standing in front of a giant, ornate statue of an old man with a long beard.
"Monk Gyatso," Aang whispered.
Silver stepped into the room and immediately felt a shift in the air. His Airbending senses tingled. There was a draft—not from a window, but from a hidden passage. And then, he saw it. Behind the statue, in the shadows, was a pile of skeletons.
Fire Nation soldiers. And in the center, an Air Nomad.
Aang saw it too.
The air in the room didn't just move—it screamed. Aang's eyes and tattoos began to glow with a blinding, white-hot light. A massive cyclone erupted around him, the pressure so intense that Sokka and Katara were nearly blown out of the room.
"Aang! Stop!" Katara screamed, shielding her face. "We're your family now! We're here!"
But Aang couldn't hear her. He was lost in the Avatar State, a century of grief exploding all at once.
Silver dug his heels into the stone. He didn't use Air to fight back—that would only feed the storm. He used Earthbending, rooting his feet deep into the foundation of the temple through the soles of his boots. He reached out and grabbed Katara and Sokka, pulling them behind his "anchor" body.
"I've got you!" Silver yelled over the roar.
"Silver, do something!" Sokka cried. "He's going to blow the roof off!"
Silver looked at the glowing boy in the center of the hurricane. He could use Water to douse him, or Fire to counteract the wind, but that was too aggressive. He needed to be the "Big Brother."
He stepped forward, pushing against the gale. Every inch felt like walking through a wall of solid lead. He didn't use his elements. He used his Third Wish: Vitality Manipulation.
He reached out his hand, his palm glowing with a warm, golden light.
"Aang! Kid! Look at me!" Silver shouted. He managed to close the distance, his fingers brushing Aang's shoulder.
Instead of attacking, Silver gave. He poured a massive surge of his own Life Energy into Aang—not as a battery, but as a "weighted blanket" for the soul. He projected feelings of warmth, of the South Pole fires, of Katara's laughter, and Sokka's stupid jokes.
Calm down, little brother. We're here. You're not alone.
The cyclone faltered. The wind began to swirl slower. The glow in Aang's eyes flickered and died. The boy collapsed, and Silver caught him before he hit the dusty floor.
Silence returned to the temple, heavier than before.
Aang looked up, his face stained with tears. "They're really gone, aren't they? All of them."
Silver sat down on the floor, pulling the 12-year-old into a one-armed hug. He looked at the skeletons of the monks and the soldiers. "Yeah, Aang. They are. But they went down fighting for what they believed in. And they left something behind."
"What?" Aang sniffled.
From the shadows, the little lemur they had been chasing poked its head out. It chirped tentatively and hopped onto Aang's shoulder, nibbling on a piece of fruit.
Silver chuckled, ruffling Aang's hair. "They left you a pet. And a very loud, very annoying Water Tribe family to keep you busy."
"I'm naming him Momo," Aang said, hugging the lemur.
"Momo? Sounds like a food," Sokka muttered, though he looked relieved.
Silver stood up, his eyes turning to the horizon. He could feel the Energy of the world shifting. The Fire Nation had tried to wipe out the Air Nomads, but they had failed.
"Alright," Silver said, clicking his Aero-Bo staff back into its compact form. "We've got a world to save. But first? I think we should tidy this place up. It's a mess."
Using a tiny, hidden flick of his wrist, he used Earthbending to bury the remains of the monks in a respectful tomb beneath the floorboards, and a gust of Air to clear a century of dust in a single sweep.
"How did you do that so fast?" Sokka asked, blinking at the suddenly clean room.
"I'm a very efficient housekeeper, Sokka," Silver lied with a wink. "Now let's go. Appa's probably bored of eating clouds."