"Fire!" Shouted a Northman beating his fist against a drum. A circle of enslaved Fire Knights punched fire into a caldron. Vapor rose from the water in the recipient and moved the machines of the Northmen on a floor above the slaves' heads.

"This is ridiculous..." Snorted a short Firebender as he fell on his knees. “I can't breathe down here," he gasped, "H-How am I supposed to do this?"

"Stand up, hombre!" Exclaimed Juan, his fellow comrade in bondage. "Either you fight the water now or you fight death later. There is no fleeing from the fight, Gavrila! So stand up!"

Áine, yet another captive, recoiled. She faced Juan:

"This was actually pretty..."

"Please don't start fighting again;" begged Gavrila, "you two will only make things worse!"

"I was just gonna say pretty poetic. For a spaniard, at least." Finished Áine.

"But I am a minstrel!" Juan meddled with his tiny moustache. "What a tragedy will fall upon these Wild Lands if I am to die in these shackles surrounded by anglo louts and steppe bumpkins..."

"I don't know what those words mean." She faltered.

"You're lucky you don't."

"Anyways," she shoved the sweat off her forehead. "Verano's gonna save us, Gavrila," she held her partner. "Don't give up now! Verano will find a way. Just survive 1 or 2 months and--"

Verano collapsed upon the ground like a tree trunk.

"Maybe 3 or 4." She corrected herself.

"Damn it, Verano!" Groaned Gavrila. "We gotta--"

"Fire!" Shouted the Northman beating both fists against a drum.

Flames sprung from the circle of captives and turned the water at the center into vapor. Yet the silence from Verano's fist bothered the Northman. He rose from his seat and dove his boot against Verano's leg.

"Argh!" Verano spilled blood.

“He’s sick?” Asked Juan.

Áine glanced at Gavrila. She corrected herself once again:

"5 months max. No problem.”

The Northman rose him from the ground by the hair. Verano's heart pumped in his chest like a bell in a whirlwind.

"Sick," chuckled the Northman, "Thyra's gonna love this."

"Oh, no..." Gavrila pulled his own hair. "Verano's gonna die?"

"Nah," faltered Áine. She grasped to the last inch of hope in her imagination. "J-Just give him 7 months. He'll make it, I'm sure!"

The Northman rose his hand to a fellow Waterbender:

"This is today's bad kid," he threw Verano towards the other man's arms, "take him to his cell," his chuckle revealed his black teeth. "Thyra'll take the kid to the mines tomorrow. Good bye, Fenrhir."

"No, Verano, please!" Shouted Gavrila as he watched his last hope leaving the forge without light in his eyes. "You can't die!"

"What horrible fate has fallen upon us!" Cried Juan.

"No, please," uttered Áine with tears in her eyes. "I wanna see my little bro again. I can't stay here forever--"

Verano opened his eyes and thrusted his fist towards the water. A cloud of fire sprung and lightened the furnace, as well as the hope inside his comrades' hearts.

"See, guys?" Áine giggled. "I told you! Verano wouldn’t just abandon us!"

“Back to work!” Shouted the Northman with black teeth as Verano distanced himself.

The restored excitement in his friends’ voices opened a smile in the boy’s expression.

"You shouldn't have done that, Fenrhir." Said the Northman who carried him to his cell. "This disease eats you from inside. You should not waste energy."

"They--" Verano coughed. "I'm the last thing they have."

"They are selfish," described the man. "Is that how they describe those who only care for themselves in your language?" He continued. "A Northman never lets himself be carried by his allies. We know all arms must row together to fight the waves. That is how we grow stronger. Our comrades will someday depart to Val-Hella but the waves will forever be there. How would we fight waters by ourselves if all we did was to sit and watch when our comrades were there to help us?"

"Self-sacrifice is important for a Fire Knight..."

"Said those who stayed alive."

Verano chuckled. He had heard similar words from his father, the cold Duke de Sforza.

"W-What's your name?" Faltered the boy facing the man who carried him.

"Börn." Replied the Northman as he rested Verano into the cell.

"Börn," repeated Verano as blood flowed down the edge of his lips, "You guys got odd names. I guess you must say the same about us, right?"

The Northman smirked as he locked the cell and walked away from the dungeon.

Verano frowned and rose his fist towards his chin. The sight of his own blood terrorized him like nothing that he had ever seen before.

"Verano?" A voice crawled from the darkness in the cell. "D-Did they hurt you?"

"I think I'm sick, Flavius,” Verano showed the blood on his fist to his cellmate, “I really don't function in the cold--"

"It is my fault," faltered Flavius as he crawled out of the darkness. His face was red like a strawberry. He wore the robes of a priest. "The Queen locked us together so you'd get sick, probably.”

"It was not your fault," coughed Verano, "we get sick because of bad Spirits hiding in the dirt, not people."

"That is not true. We," he referred to the Church of Heaven's Shrine, "we just tell people that so they'll wear shoes and wash their hands."

“I was gonna die without knowing that…” Smirked Verano in a cynical manner. He glanced towards the tiny window of the cell. “The Song of the Wind. What is it saying about Marzia?”

"You ask that every day. All I hear is her cry. Especially at noon.”

"We used to pick herbs together at noon," reminisced Verano as if he could feel the Duchy’s warm Sun behind his backs instead of the cold prison floor, "grass looked all the same to me but she had quite a good eye. And Candorra and Giovanni?"

"I hear a Zigana's harp coming from Alba all the time."

"It's Candorra. I'm glad she is fine..." Verano coughed and covered his mouth. Blood still tainted his skin. "There was a tea that Marzia and Father Seneca made me every winter. It healed me. Lavender, three leaves of Cornelion and a flower of Ribiscus... I remember as if it were yesterday."

"Saint Dundé's tea..." Remarked Flavius. "Maybe we should find a way to ask your brother Arnaud for help? These ingredients can be found here."

"I don't want to disappoint him," Verano sobbed. "He expects his big brother to be the Avatar, not some moribund. I must, argh--" Verano struggled to sit on the ground. He rose his hand towards the water in a bucket. "I must learn this Waterbending thing." He stretched his arm yet Flavius's hand held him by the pulse.

"Verano, just rest." Ordered the young priest.

"I need to master this. It's our only way out. I learn Waterbending, pass their War Rites and become free..."

"And then you tackle an entire tribe of Waterbenders alone to free your fellow knights?"

"Yes, I mean…" Verano frowned, aghast. He scratched his chin as the young priest's words roamed his head. "Wow. Now I see why Arnaud and I were never famous for our good plans..." He swung his head. "It is a silly idea," he resigned, "how come we believed that?" He referred to the Fire Knights. "It seems so stupid when you put it like that..."

"We must believe in something," smirked Flavius, "if you do not have faith in the future, the present is nothing but torture and suffering."

"Why do..." Verano coughed loud. Blood stained his hands. "Why do we suffer, Flavius? Have we done something wrong? Our parents? Anyone?"

"Sometimes it's our own fault..." Flavius frowned as he grasped a chaplet of the Church of Heaven's Shrine hanging on his neck. "But sometimes it happens so that the miracle of the Guardian can be displayed upon us."

Verano ranted:

"Really? I am dying and I can't ask for help. Everyone looks at me like some sort of savior and I'm just disappointing them every day that passes. I must somehow control the tide, but I can't even lift the water from a glass. I've been here for two months and I still have no idea how the Northman do it. Marzia thinks I'm dead and that she's alone in this world and the only escape plan that I have came from Arnaud. You think that there is miracle waiting for me?" He glanced towards the cells and thought of the other slaves. "For us?"

Flavius nodded. He bargained:

"You have a right to be frustrated, but these thoughts will only kill you. You need hope to heal--"

"What about you, Flavius? You've been locked here for years and your health is worse than mine..." Faltered Verano. "You still believe in that that? That this,” he referred to the dungeon. “That this happened to you for a greater reason?"

"Every day," he replied with wet eyes, "Everyday, Prince de Sforza," he shoved the tears off his face.

"I'm sorry..." Faltered Verano. "I didn't want to--"

"It is fine. I never doubted that I was here so that I could be part of a miracle. I never allowed myself to do that," grinned Flavius. "And when I saw that I'd share a cell with the Avatar, I finally knew that I was right. You know, Verano, I can call her..." He smirked. "I could reach her in her dreams if she is open enough. Fire Peoples are rough but they soften when they cry."

"You can reach..." His eyes widened. "Marzia?"

Flavius nodded.

"You need her." Affirmed the priest. "She's the belief that keeps you going. She's the light in the dark for you, isn't she? When the hope of seeing her vanishes, you go to very dark places.”

Verano grinned as he recalled when she held his hand as they walked together in the Forest of the Hanged Doll. He never feared the darkness while in the warmth of her company. The boy confessed:

"Yes, she is. Please, tell her that I'm still here. And that Arnaud is with me. And that no matter how, we'll go home. Please tell her that I haven't forgotten her for a day. No, no," Verano looked left and right for something that he could use to write a letter. "Tell her that..."

"That you have so much to say that you can't even find the words for it?"

"T-That's a good one," Verano coughed, "please tell her that I miss her tea, her company and that I am so sorry that I'm not there with her to see the first snow like I've promised. Tell her that I'll never have any stupid ideas again and I’ll just do whatever she tells me to. Also…"

Verano continued as Flavius smiled and nodded. The mention of Marzia brought life back into him. The young priest grasped his chaplet as his friend spoke. He thanked the Grey Guardian that he could mend the Avatar's spirit despite the little time that he had to live.

"And that is all," gasped Verano. He spoke so much that his jaw hurt. "You remember everything?"

"Absolutely." He lied.

"Great! How can I ever pay you back, Flavius?"

"I came here thinking that I could convert the Northmen and I ended up being the Church's first messenger to the Avatar. I already have everything that I wanted."

The doors of the dungeon banged open. Loud steps walked through the hallway. They heard Thyra's voice:

"I hear chit-chatting?" She walked towards the cell and frowned upon Verano. Her arms crossed. "Too sick to work but not to talk with your friend?"

"Han behöver hjälp!" intervened Flavius. "He'll die without your help."

"He doesn't look sick at all," she glanced at the priest; "But you, on the otherhand..."

"Why have you come?" Faltered Verano. He avoided facing her as if he saw the ghost of Erik, her brother whom he had killed, standing beneath the Northwoman.

"I came to see if you'll last until tomorrow. You're going to the mines of the Giants."

"That's unfair!" Protested Flavius. "He's weakened and everyone who goes there ends up..."

"Exactly," she smirked, "yet I'm a merciful woman, Fenrhir. As you must know, that little chubby pet that my mother has by her side is quite vocal about you. My men are scared that the Spirits of the Deep might punish us with storms if we kill the Fenrhir. As much as I hate you, you've been plotting and agitating the slaves. That exactly what I don't need in the moment. Since my people are too mystical to let me kill you, I want to make an offer."

"What is it?"

"You can leave and never come back…"

Flavius grinned from ear to ear as he shook Verano's shoulders. Thyra continued:

"With one condition," she smirked, "you'll have to leave alone."