The horde of Horrors in all shapes and sizes spilled out of the corridor in full fury, swarming over the little group in a vast and seemingly unending flood and rushing on down the main corridor.
The group should have been dead, but they weren’t; at least, the Avatar and his Tutors weren’t. The Reaving-Bent Horrors in their multitudes were only illusions, the results of a Mind-Bender striving to kill the group through the illusion of their own death, while an allied Spirit-Bender Bent their Fear to the utmost.
Mikkel and Tuuri were ready for the fight, however, and while they could not entirely negate the enemies’ Bending, they could expose it as the fraud it was. This was enough that the group could grit their teeth and endure, aside from the Templars among them, who stood like statues, the assault killing them instantly.
Again and again the attacks came as Sigrun doggedly Bent the Earth at her feet, until finally, a casket was exposed. In an instant, Onni had whipped up a funnel of Air to raise the casket into their circle, but even as he did, counter-winds buffeted the capsule, and spikes of rock lashed out to try to block its path. Fires tried to spark on the casket, while long icicles formed on its bottom, trying to drag it down.
The Dark Spirit’s forces had arrived; the Battle of the Benders had begun.
Acting on instinct, Lalli dashed away the flames, while Emil burned off the icicles, Sigrun pushed the spikes aside and Onni reined in the winds. They did this over and over again while Tuuri and Mikkel held off their own counterparts; but as the Battle dragged on and on, their exertions slowly started sapping their very Life, so at last Reynir tried to shore it up as best he could once more.
After the opening salvos, the major part of the attacks centered on Michael, but most of the rest focused on Sigrun; Emil nearly killed himself beating back the ones he could, his memory replaying that cold “She will die” all the while.
As each of the seven strained to Bend against the oncoming foes, they each felt something ancient and powerful rise within them, as each had felt before in a time of great need. Their eyes closed, and when they opened again, they were glowing blue.
Energy flowed from the seven into Michael, and with it came searing pain that brought him to his knees with eyes squeezed shut as his chi rerouted itself. Then the pain was gone, leaving only power in its wake. Avatar Michael stood and his eyes opened, glowing bright blue, for he had finally entered the Avatar State for the first time.
The fight did not last long after that. The Dark Spirit had made deals with a whole host of Benders of various sorts, but even massed as they were, they were no match for the Avatar, and particularly not when he was backed by his seven Tutors. Both individually and in groups, they fell to the Avatar Spirit, and were stripped of their Bending, until none remained to oppose the Avatar.
Spent, the seven Tutors dropped to their knees, fighting to stay conscious. Sigrun looked down at the casket she held. “So... what’s... in... this... thing?” she slowly asked, fighting to get each word out.
A Templar, called forth from the Forbidden Heart of the Temple through the Golden Portal by the entrance of Michael into the Avatar State, gently lifted the casket from her rapidly slackening grasp and said, “Within this is the Shield and the Cure for the Reaving; with this, no more shall fall to it, though the Reaving-Bent are still beyond its aid.”
As he spoke, three other Templars joined him. “And now that Avatar Michael has entered the Avatar State at last, it is time for him to be seated in the place we have long prepared for him; this will send the Dark Spirit to her doom.”
Beginning their long-practiced chant, the four Templars took their processional positions around the Avatar, and the five of them went down the corridor, the heavy, dark shape of their spirit foe dogging their steps all the way. Other Templars bore their fallen kin away for what rites Templars performed to honor their dead.
Finally, the Avatar and his Templar escort passed through the Golden Portal, ascending the Dais to where the Throne of Balance awaited the Avatar. In the instant when the Avatar sat, a long, wailing cry of failure and despair echoed down the corridor until it, and the Dark Spirit from which it issued, faded away forever.
Two Templars emerged from the Golden Portal, gesturing for the seven to approach. “And now,” one said when they reached the threshold, “you must go in and take you places on the Lower Dais, for Change has come, and the Balance is nigh to return.”
Mikkel, Tuuri, Reynir, Onni, Lalli, Emil and Sigrun looked at each other for a moment before stepping through the Golden Portal...
