CHAPTER 1: HIS NAME IS YOGAN
The group stood in stunned silence, each of them processing the mysterious woman's words. The idea that the second Avatar—one who had lived nearly ten thousand years ago—could somehow restore Korra's severed connection to her past lives seemed unfathomable.
Korra, feeling a mix of skepticism and a faint glimmer of hope, stepped forward. "How is that even possible?" she asked, her voice low but firm. "How could someone who lived so long ago still have any power to help me?"
Tenzin, ever the scholar and spiritual guide, furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. "The second Avatar's life is largely unknown. Most of what we know comes from oral traditions and fragments of ancient records. What you're suggesting, that he could somehow restore Korra's connection... it sounds improbable. Why would his legacy have been forgotten?"
The mysterious woman's expression didn't waver. She gazed at the statue of Wan, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding of the history Tenzin mentioned. "His end was... unique. There's a reason his statue is hidden beneath that of the first Avatar, Wan. His legacy was never meant to be forgotten, but circumstances led to his erasure from most historical records. Only those who share a strong connection to Raava, like the first Avatar, can unlock the chamber where his true statue lies."
Jinora, ever curious and full of knowledge about the Avatars, spoke up. "But Wan was the one who began the Avatar cycle. He merged with Raava, establishing the role of the Avatar. What more could the second Avatar have done that was so important?"
The woman's eyes flickered with the weight of her next words. "What you know of the Avatar, the cycle, the spiritual balance—all of that is built on what the second Avatar perfected. Wan may have been the first, but it was the second who laid the foundation for the Avatar's true purpose. His mastery of the elements and energy bending was unlike any other Avatar in history. He did so much for the world... and yet, his legacy has been forgotten. He doesn't even have a shrine to his name."
Tenzin shook his head in disbelief. "Ten thousand years have passed. It makes sense that much of his story would be lost to time, especially if there were efforts to erase his existence."
The woman looked at Tenzin, her gaze unwavering. "In all that time, no Avatar has come close to the second's mastery of the elements, his connection to Raava, or his impact on the world. Not Kyoshi, not Roku, not even Aang. He was a powerful warrior, a scholar of the highest order... and the first Air King."
The silence that followed was thick with shock. Bolin blinked rapidly, his jaw slack. "Wait, did she just say Air King? Like, he ruled over the airbenders? I thought they were all nomads, you know, no leaders or rulers."
The mysterious woman nodded. "Before the airbenders embraced the nomadic lifestyle fully, they had kings, rulers who guided them spiritually and politically. The second Avatar was the first of those kings. His wisdom and strength were unmatched."
Asami, her face a mask of stunned contemplation, turned to the woman. "You're telling us that there was once a ruler of the airbenders who was also the greatest Avatar in history, and yet no one remembers him? How could that happen?"
The woman's lips curled into a small, enigmatic smile. "That is the nature of history. It is written by those who survive, and sometimes, the most important figures are deliberately forgotten."
Mako, always the one to cut to the chase, narrowed his eyes. "And how do you know all of this? You seem to know a lot about the past Avatars, especially the ones we know so little about."
The woman's smile faded, replaced by a neutral, almost distant expression. "In time, you'll learn the role I've played. But for now, that's not important."
Korra was growing impatient. Her entire journey had been one of finding herself, of reconnecting with what she had lost. This was her chance to restore that vital part of her that had been taken by Vaatu. "If what you're saying is true, then how do I find him? How do I restore my connection to the past Avatars?"
The woman turned, motioning for them to sit. "Get comfortable. You need to understand his story first. It's as much the tale of two brothers as it is about the Avatar himself."
The group hesitated for a moment, then settled into more comfortable positions on the stone floor, the firelight casting long shadows across the Hall of Statues. The woman stood in front of them, her posture regal yet unassuming. Her eyes darkened slightly as she began to speak.
"The first brother was a prodigy, loved and revered by all who met him. He mastered his bending at a pace no one had ever seen before. He was a leader, a philosopher, and a warrior all in one. But he wasn't alone. He had a younger brother..."
Her voice took on a sharper edge, one laced with a mixture of nostalgia and annoyance that did not go unnoticed by the group.
"His brother was nothing like him. While the older brother trained in the art of bending and meditation, his brother preferred... other activities. Laziness, indulgence, perversion... Let's just say his interests were far from noble."
Korra frowned, sensing the bitterness in the woman's tone. "Why does it sound like you have a personal grudge against the younger brother?"
The woman's eyes flicked to Korra briefly before returning to the group at large. "Let's just say he made things... difficult. But that's a story for another time."
The air in the temple seemed to grow colder as the woman's gaze swept across them, her expression unreadable once more. She closed her eyes briefly, as if gathering herself, before speaking again.
"And so, the tale of the second Avatar begins."
***
Nearly ten thousand years ago, the world was in chaos. Only a few decades had passed since humans had severed their dependence on the lion turtles, once revered as protectors and sources of bending. Led by the great warrior Wan, who was the first to harness the power of all four elements, humans had learned to control their own destinies. But with this newfound freedom came unforeseen strife.
Though Wan had worked tirelessly to broker peace between humans and spirits, ushering in an era of tenuous tranquility, his efforts had not lasted. The spirits had returned to their world after the battle between Raava and Vaatu, but a few had chosen to stay, mingling with humanity. Their presence, coupled with human greed and a thirst for conquest, plunged the world into turmoil. Wan had laid the foundations for a better future, but by the time of his death, many of his visions of peace had splintered. Different tribes of benders had formed, wielding their powers not for balance but for domination.
As generations passed, the world became more divided. Earthbenders used their strength to conquer vast territories, waterbenders isolated themselves in the polar regions, and firebenders forged empires with ambition. The air nomads, however, retreated to the Southern Air Temple, distancing themselves from the conflicts brewing across the rest of the world. Here, they sought solace and enlightenment, focusing on spiritual growth and the pursuit of balance.
It was a prestigious day for the air nomads. At the Southern Air Temple, a group of young airbenders, still novices in their craft, were practicing their rudimentary techniques. The sun bathed the temple's serene courtyards in golden light, and the laughter of the children echoed across the stone walls.
Two young boys, both sporting shaved heads but without the iconic airbending tattoos, were engaged in a playful sparring session. They weaved and ducked, small gusts of wind swirling around them as they attempted to knock each other off balance. The other novices watched, laughing and jeering in good spirits.
"You'll never master that form like that!" one boy teased as he dodged a gust aimed at his legs.
"Oh yeah?" his opponent grinned, kicking up a swirl of air and sending the boy tumbling to the ground. The others erupted in laughter.
Just then, another novice came running toward the group, his face flushed with urgency. "Master is coming!" he shouted, causing the group to immediately snap to attention.
The novices hurriedly got into formation, standing in a disciplined line just as a figure appeared at the entrance of the training grounds.
The young master who strode through the gates commanded instant respect. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and walked with the effortless grace of a seasoned airbender. Despite his youth—only 19 years old—his reputation as a prodigy had already spread across the temple and beyond. His robes, marked with intricate designs signifying his rank, flowed lightly in the wind as he approached the students. His airbending tattoos shimmered faintly in the light, the unmistakable mark of his mastery. His name was Renji, and he was the pride of the Southern Air Temple.
Renji's presence was magnetic. He was adored not only for his bending skill but also for his calm demeanour and wisdom beyond his years. Many at the temple looked to him as the embodiment of the air nomads' ideals—balanced, disciplined, and wise. As he stopped before the group, his gaze swept over the young hopefuls, each one eager to impress him, desperate to earn their own tattoos and become airbending masters.
However, as Renji's keen eyes scanned the group, they stopped abruptly. He frowned, realising that someone was missing. His younger brother, Yogan, wasn't there.
Renji's jaw tightened, though he kept his composure. His frustration with Yogan had been growing for some time, and today was no different. But for now, he buried his irritation, unwilling to show his disappointment in front of the other students. Instead, he addressed them calmly.
"How are the ceremony techniques coming along?" he asked, his voice smooth but commanding.
A young woman stepped forward. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of pride and fear at addressing the prodigy. "Everything is progressing, Master Renji. We've been practising the formations, but... well," she hesitated, "we haven't had much time with Yogan. He's been... absent from practice, either showing up late or not at all."
Renji's calm facade cracked just slightly, his irritation finally showing. "Yogan..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. His anger flared, but he quickly composed himself. "Thank you for your honesty," he said aloud to the group. "Continue your hard work. I will deal with my brother."
Leaving the group to their training, Renji turned on his heel and began to make his way down the mountain path toward the nearby village. His stride quickened as his annoyance grew. Yogan's lack of discipline had long been a thorn in Renji's side. Unlike his older brother, Yogan seemed to care little for the teachings of their people, preferring to avoid his duties and indulge in more... base pursuits.
The small fishing village nestled at the foot of the mountain bustled with activity. Villagers moved about their daily chores, hauling nets of fresh fish or tending to market stalls. The village was simple but vibrant, its narrow streets filled with the hum of life.
It didn't take Renji long to figure out where his brother had gone. He made his way towards the bathhouse, one of the village's most frequented spots for rest and relaxation.
Inside the bathhouse, Yogan moved like a shadow. Despite his apparent laziness and lack of interest in training, Yogan had developed a masterful ability to sneak around, often using his airbending to float silently through spaces, evading detection. His mischievous nature had led him to this point—creeping through the bathhouse, a place he visited far too often for the wrong reasons.
He hovered effortlessly with the aid of airbending, floating over the towering walls that separated the men's side from the women's. His sly grin grew wider as he prepared to sneak a peek at the women bathing, a habit that had earned him a dubious reputation in the village.
Just as Yogan was about to settle down in his hidden vantage point, a shadow loomed over him. Renji appeared, his arms crossed and his expression stern, blocking Yogan's view entirely.
"If you put half as much effort into your training as you do into your perversions, you'd already have your tattoos," Renji said, his voice cold with disapproval.
Yogan, caught off guard but unashamed, sneered back at his brother. "Oh, piss off, Renji. I'm just having a bit of fun. Not everyone wants to spend their life floating around like an enlightened monk."
Renji narrowed his eyes. "This isn't just about enlightenment. This is about honour and discipline—things you clearly know nothing about."
Before Yogan could retort, a loud shriek echoed from below. One of the women had spotted the brothers, and chaos quickly followed. Screams and shouts rang through the bathhouse as more women realised they were being watched.
In a matter of moments, the bathhouse was in an uproar. Renji and Yogan, both now the centre of attention, were hastily ushered out by an angry mob of bathhouse workers, their faces flushed with embarrassment.
Soon enough, the two brothers found themselves standing in the Great Hall of the temple, before the Council of Elders. The five most powerful airbenders in the world were seated before them, their gazes sharp and judgmental. Each elder had a distinct presence, their wisdom and power evident in their posture.
Elder Tai, the leader of the council, was a wiry, stern figure known for his mastery over the spiritual aspects of airbending. He was flanked by Elder Nara, a middle-aged woman whose airbending prowess was legendary in combat, and Elder Jiro, who had trained generations of benders in the art of defensive techniques. The other two, Elders Liu and Kanna, were equally respected, overseeing the political and spiritual welfare of the airbending temples.
Renji stood before them, his face a mask of calm but inwardly fuming with humiliation. Yogan, on the other hand, stifled a chuckle, clearly unbothered by the proceedings.
Elder Tai's voice was as sharp as the wind as he spoke. "Master Renji, what do you have to say for yourself? We've heard... concerning reports."
Renji bowed deeply. "Elders, I swear to you, I was only there to stop Yogan. I had no part in his disgraceful actions."
Yogan snorted, leaning lazily to one side. "Oh, come on now, brother. You were enjoying it too, admit it."
Renji's eyes flashed with fury, but he restrained himself. The elders exchanged glances, the tension in the room palpable.
After a lengthy deliberation, Elder Tai finally delivered their verdict. "For your actions, both of you will clean the bison living quarters for the next two weeks."
Renji's face flushed red with shame, while Yogan merely shrugged, completely unfazed. As they left the chamber, Renji turned to Yogan, his eyes filled with cold determination.
"I swear, I'll get my revenge for this, Yogan. You've ruined my reputation."
Yogan simply grinned, patting Renji on the shoulder with mock sympathy. "Stay out of my business, dear brother, if you don't want your precious reputation ruined even more."
The two stormed off in opposite directions, their relationship strained beyond mere sibling rivalry. Renji's footsteps echoed through the stone corridors of the temple, each step punctuating his simmering frustration. He had spent his entire life upholding the values of their people—discipline, honour, and balance. Yogan, on the other hand, seemed intent on tearing those values down at every opportunity, always finding a way to make light of their responsibilities. Renji couldn't comprehend how they could be brothers, let alone from the same family.
Meanwhile, Yogan strolled away casually, his hands tucked behind his head as if he had just been on a pleasant stroll. His carefree attitude was infuriating to those who knew him, especially Renji. But Yogan didn't care. Life, in his eyes, was to be enjoyed, not burdened by endless rules and expectations. He knew that, deep down, he had the potential to be a great airbender, but he wasn't interested in becoming a master like Renji or earning his tattoos to satisfy the elders. What was the point, when there were more interesting things to do? Life was a playground for Yogan, and he intended to enjoy every moment of it.
The next few days were spent fulfilling their punishment. Renji, ever dutiful, took his task in the bison living quarters seriously, meticulously cleaning and tending to the large, gentle creatures that the air nomads had relied on for centuries. His movements were precise, his frustration manifesting in the force and effort he put into his work. The bison were fond of him, as they were of most airbenders, and even though Renji was angry at his brother, he treated the bison with care.
Yogan, on the other hand, treated the punishment like a joke. He spent more time lounging around in the straw, casually flicking away pieces of dirt with the lightest gusts of airbending. He talked to the bison as if they were his friends, sometimes lying back on their large, woolly bodies as if taking a nap in the afternoon sun. His lack of respect for the task only deepened Renji's irritation.
At one point, Renji couldn't take it anymore. "You think this is funny?" he snapped, glaring at Yogan as the latter playfully nudged a bison with his foot.
Yogan looked up, unconcerned. "What's the big deal? It's just cleaning, Renji. You're acting like we're saving the world."
Renji stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "That's the problem with you, Yogan. You never take anything seriously. You waste your talent, and you dishonour the temple with your laziness."
Yogan sat up, stretching his arms over his head lazily. "Honour this, discipline that. You're like a broken record, brother. Not everyone wants to live up to your impossibly high standards."
"This isn't about my standards!" Renji shot back. "It's about our people, our legacy! You have a responsibility as an airbender."
Yogan's face twisted into a mocking smile. "I'm not the prodigy everyone worships. That's your job, remember? The 'perfect' airbender, Master Renji." He stood up, brushing stray straw from his robes. "I'll do what I have to, but don't expect me to care about the same things you do."
The air between them crackled with tension, the frustration and resentment that had built up over the years finally bubbling to the surface. Renji turned away, shaking his head in disappointment.
"You're a waste of talent, Yogan. One day, you'll regret it."
Yogan chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Maybe, maybe not. But right now, I'm living my life how I want to. That's more than I can say for you."
Despite their shared blood, it seemed the two brothers were walking vastly different paths. Renji, with his devotion to the teachings of the air nomads, and Yogan, with his careless disdain for responsibility, had become opposites in every sense.
---
Later that evening, Renji stood alone in one of the temple's meditation chambers, trying to calm his mind. The frustration of dealing with Yogan weighed heavily on him, and no amount of deep breathing or airbending forms seemed to ease the tension in his muscles. The air temple's tranquility, which usually brought him peace, was doing little to help.
As he focused on his breathing, Renji's thoughts drifted back to their childhood. Back then, things had been different. Yogan had been full of potential, a promising young airbender who had impressed even the elders with his quick understanding of bending techniques. Renji had been proud of his younger brother, excited to train together and one day earn their tattoos side by side.
But as they grew older, Yogan had changed. The carefree attitude that had once been charming became frustrating. His natural skill in airbending turned into a burden he seemed uninterested in carrying. It wasn't long before Yogan began shirking his duties altogether, and Renji found himself constantly making excuses for his brother's behaviour.
As Renji's thoughts wandered deeper into the past, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his meditation. He turned to see Elder Nara, the fierce combat master, standing at the entrance of the chamber. Her presence was formidable, her reputation as a warrior second to none among the airbenders.
"Elder Nara," Renji greeted her respectfully, bowing his head. "What brings you here?"
Nara stepped inside, her sharp eyes studying him closely. "I've been watching you, Renji. You've grown into a fine airbender, and your discipline is unmatched."
Renji nodded, though he sensed there was more she wanted to say. "Thank you, Elder. I strive to uphold the teachings."
Nara crossed her arms, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "But I've also noticed how much time you spend worrying about your brother. Yogan is not your responsibility, Renji. You can't save him from himself."
Renji's shoulders tensed. He had heard these words before, but hearing them from Elder Nara carried more weight. "He's wasting his potential," Renji said quietly. "If he just applied himself, he could be one of the greatest airbenders."
Nara raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps. But you cannot force him to walk the same path as you. His choices are his own, and you must focus on your own journey. Don't let his actions distract you from your purpose."
Renji wanted to argue, to insist that Yogan's behaviour was a reflection on their family and their temple, but deep down, he knew Nara was right. His brother's fate was out of his hands.
"Thank you, Elder," Renji said, bowing again. "I will take your words to heart."
Nara studied him for a moment longer before nodding. "Good. Now return to your meditation. The mind of an airbender must be as clear as the wind."
As she left, Renji sat back down, closing his eyes once more. But even as he tried to focus on his breath, the image of Yogan's carefree grin lingered in his mind, a reminder of the one person he couldn't seem to reach.
---
Far from the temple, in a small clearing near the village, Yogan lay sprawled out on the grass, staring up at the stars. His encounter with the elders had been nothing more than a passing annoyance to him, another reminder of the rules he had no interest in following. His brother's scolding and the punishment they had endured were already forgotten.
But as he gazed up at the night sky, a strange feeling settled over him—a sense of restlessness he couldn't quite shake. For all his bravado and carefree attitude, there was something deep inside Yogan, a spark that flickered now and then, reminding him that he could be more. The problem was, he didn't know if he wanted to be.
The distant sound of a bison's roar echoed through the night, and Yogan closed his eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over him. For now, he was content to live in the moment, far from the burdens his brother and the temple tried to place on his shoulders.
But the future had a way of catching up with even the most reluctant souls.
***
The cold night air of the Southern Air Temple wrapped itself around Korra and her friends like a thick blanket, causing them to shift uncomfortably in their seats. The fire crackled in the center of the chamber, casting long shadows against the ancient stone walls as they listened to the mysterious woman recount the tale from a time long forgotten. The weight of her words hung heavily in the room, but despite the tension, there was a lingering sense of confusion in the air.
Asami, always the pragmatist, tilted her head as she considered what they had just heard. "Renji doesn't sound too much like his reputation would suggest," she said, her voice cutting through the quiet. "For someone who was supposed to be this revered master and leader, he seems... well, rather normal."
Bolin, who had been scratching his head throughout the entire story, chimed in with a playful grin. "Yeah, I mean, he just seems like a big brother who's worried about his little brother causing trouble. Reminds me of my brother… uh, what's his name again?"
Mako sighed deeply, glaring at Bolin. "My name's Mako, Bolin. It's not that hard to remember."
"Oh, right, right," Bolin laughed nervously, before leaning forward and whispering to Asami. "Renji and Yogan don't seem like they'd be part of some great Avatar legend though, right?"
Asami nodded in agreement. "Exactly. It just doesn't add up. Renji seems... too focused on duty, like he's trying to control everything. He sounds powerful, but I wouldn't say 'greatest' yet."
Korra, who had remained silent through most of the exchange, furrowed her brow. She felt the same uncertainty gnawing at her. There was something about Renji's story that didn't align with the image she had conjured in her mind about the greatest Avatar in history. It all seemed too... mundane. Sure, Renji had talent and skill, but Korra couldn't see the spark that would make him an Avatar of unparalleled strength, let alone one who could restore her connection to her past lives.
The mysterious woman stood quietly at the edge of the fire, watching them with a calm expression, as if she had anticipated their skepticism. Her dark eyes gleamed with a knowing intensity as the group exchanged glances, their doubts apparent.
Tenzin finally spoke, his voice measured and thoughtful. "I understand why you might tell this story, but what does this have to do with the second Avatar? From what we've heard, Renji seems like a talented airbender, a prodigy even, but surely he isn't the Avatar you're speaking of. His role in the grand history of the world... it just doesn't seem to fit the scale of what you've described."
The woman's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. She stepped closer to the fire, the flames casting a soft glow on her pale skin, and folded her hands in front of her. "Renji's story is indeed important, but you are correct—he is not the second Avatar. The origins of the second Avatar were always a tale of two brothers... but only at first."
The group fell silent, all eyes on the woman as her words sank in.
Tenzin furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, 'only at first'? Are you saying that the second Avatar is someone else entirely?"
The woman nodded slowly, her gaze drifting toward the statue of Avatar Wan, standing proudly in the Hall of Statues. "The story of the second Avatar is deeply tied to both brothers, Renji and Yogan. They were born in the same family, raised under the same roof, but their paths diverged in ways no one could have predicted."
She paused for a moment, allowing her words to settle. Then, with a quiet breath, she continued, "Renji was always the shining star of their temple—respected, admired, loved. But greatness does not always announce itself through obvious means. Sometimes, it lurks in the shadows, unnoticed and misunderstood."
Asami narrowed her eyes. "So... if Renji wasn't the Avatar, then... are you saying it was Yogan?"
The woman's expression softened, and she nodded. "Yes, Yogan was the second Avatar."
For a moment, the group was frozen in stunned silence, each of them trying to process the revelation. Korra's eyes widened as the pieces of the story began to click into place. Yogan—the mischievous, carefree, troublemaking brother who seemed to care more about sneaking around bathhouses than mastering airbending—he was the greatest Avatar in history?
Bolin was the first to break the silence. "Wait, what?! Yogan? The guy who couldn't even show up to training on time? He was the second Avatar?"
Mako, still trying to wrap his head around it, muttered, "That doesn't make any sense."
Asami crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. "How could someone like Yogan, who didn't take anything seriously, become the greatest Avatar in history?"
Korra, still reeling from the shock, tried to make sense of it herself. She had expected the second Avatar to be someone like Renji—disciplined, powerful, a natural leader. But Yogan? The way the story had portrayed him, he seemed like the furthest thing from a legendary Avatar.
Tenzin, too, seemed deeply puzzled. "It's difficult to believe. From everything you've told us, Yogan seemed... well, distracted, unfocused. What changed? How did he, of all people, become the Avatar?"
The woman regarded them all patiently, her gaze flickering between each of them before she spoke again. "Yogan's path was unlike that of any other Avatar. His growth was not immediate, nor was his potential obvious. But it was there, deep inside him, waiting to be unlocked. And in time, he would become more than even Renji could ever have imagined."
Korra leaned forward, her skepticism slowly giving way to curiosity. "What happened? What changed for him?"
The woman's eyes darkened with the weight of untold stories. "That is a tale for another night. But know this—Yogan's journey was one of the most difficult any Avatar has ever faced. He was not handed greatness; he earned it through trials that would have broken lesser men."
The group fell quiet again, the flickering fire the only sound in the stillness of the chamber. The revelation weighed heavily on all of them, and the mystery of Yogan's transformation lingered in the air.
Korra stared at the fire, her thoughts racing. If Yogan could go from being a reckless troublemaker to the greatest Avatar in history, maybe there was hope for her after all. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to restore her connection to the past Avatars.
But for now, they were left with more questions than answers. And one undeniable truth: the second Avatar wasn't who they had thought. It was Yogan.