The Frozen Chronicle

The cold wind howled through the frozen cliffs of the Northern Water Tribe, a song that had echoed for centuries in this ancient land of ice and snow. The towering walls of ice reflected the shimmering blue hues of the night sky, and beyond them lay the tranquil sea—silent and infinite. Underneath the silver glow of the full moon, a village sat at peace, its people bundled in furs, fires flickering within their igloos.

To most, this world was beautiful yet harsh, a place of survival and tradition. But to a certain boy, lying beneath heavy animal furs in one of those igloos, this world was not his own. Not truly.

When he awoke, the first thing he noticed was the cold. Bitter, bone-deep, and far beyond anything he had experienced before. The second thing he noticed was the weight of his body—or rather, the alien smallness of it.

The boy jolted upright, his breath misting in the icy air. Panic flooded him for a moment as unfamiliar surroundings came into focus: igloo walls of compacted ice, the faint glow of a dying flame, and the sound of a woman's soft humming outside.

"This... isn't my world," he whispered, his voice light, childlike. He reached up, only to freeze when his small hands came into view—chubby fingers, barely five years old. "What's going on?"

And then it hit him. Memories came flooding in—two sets of memories, one his own and one belonging to the body he now inhabited.

He was Lian, the five-year-old son of a respected waterbender warrior. A boy born to the cold north. But before that, he had been someone else—a man from another world, a world of modern convenience, logic, and steel. He had died, though how and why were still a blur. Now he was here.

The weight of the realization almost crushed him.

"I transmigrated."

As if answering his chaotic thoughts, a deep hum echoed in his mind.

"The Library of Heaven's Path has been activated."

Lian froze.

The voice was neither cold nor warm; it simply existed, calm and omnipotent.

"Library of Heaven's Path...?" he repeated aloud, his young voice trembling.

Before he could question further, his vision changed. A massive, endless library appeared in his mind—a hall so vast it seemed to stretch beyond time itself. Bookshelves towered into eternity, filled with countless books. Despite its sheer magnitude, it felt strangely intimate, as though it belonged to him alone.

What is this place? Lian thought, awestruck.

In response, the voice returned:

"The Library of Heaven's Path records flaws of all things observed. Examine a technique, object, or person, and the flaws will be compiled into a book."

The explanation hit him like a tidal wave, leaving him breathless. He knew this! He had read about it before—a power so broken it could make an ordinary man a god among mortals. Except, in his past world, it had only been a story.

Now, it was his reality.

He clenched his small fists, feeling the first stirrings of determination rise within him.

"I see..." he whispered, his lips curling into a faint smile. "So this is my cheat."

The library was his key—to power, to survival, to freedom. In a world like this, the world of Avatar, where bending arts defined life and death, strength meant everything.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft, childlike giggle. The igloo flap opened, letting in a rush of cold air, and a girl peeked inside. Her face was round and cheerful, framed by long, silvery-white hair.

"Lian, you're awake!" she said brightly.

It took him a moment to recognize her from the body's memories—Yue, daughter of the Northern Water Tribe Chief. She was only a year older than him, though her smile carried a quiet gentleness rare for someone so young.

Lian blinked. "Yue..."

"You look funny," she teased, stepping fully into the igloo. She wore soft furs, her cheeks rosy from the cold. "Were you talking to yourself?"

Lian felt his heart tighten—a strange mix of emotions for a girl he had only just met. He knew this was his body's childhood friend. His closest companion. And someone who, in time, would hold a tragic fate.

"No, I was just... thinking," Lian said softly.

Yue tilted her head, studying him. "Thinking about what?"

About everything. About how I'm going to change your fate, he thought. But instead, he smiled—an innocent, boyish smile. "About training."

Her eyes lit up. "You're always talking about training! Why don't you play more?"

"Because I want to be strong," Lian said firmly. His small hands tightened at his sides. "Strong enough to protect you."

Yue blinked, stunned into silence by his seriousness. Then she smiled, a bright, unguarded smile that seemed to light up the room. "Then I'll cheer for you!"

A warmth bloomed in his chest—small, but real. Yue was his anchor in this world, the one person who made this unfamiliar life feel like home. If nothing else, he would protect her smile.

That night, as Yue returned to her family's quarters and the fire in his igloo dwindled to embers, Lian sat cross-legged in the dark, his young body shivering slightly. He ignored the cold, focusing inward.

"Library of Heaven's Path," he whispered. "Show me my flaws."

At once, a book appeared in his mind. It was titled 'Lian – Five-Year-Old Boy.'

Lian opened it with a thought, and lines of text unfurled before him:

Flaws:

Weak and underdeveloped muscles.Poor stamina.Inability to sense waterbending energy.Soul strength is fragile and untempered.

The list went on, each flaw hitting him like a hammer. But instead of feeling discouraged, Lian's smile grew.

"Good," he murmured. "The more flaws I know, the stronger I can become."

With this library, he could optimize his training, perfect his techniques, and accelerate his growth far beyond anyone's expectations. He would not remain a weak child in a dangerous world.

Outside, the moon shone down upon the frozen land, its light seeping through the cracks in the ice.

And in that moment, beneath the endless northern sky, a boy swore an oath—to grow, to protect, and to forge his own path.

The path of heaven, carved by his hands alone.