This story begins with the premise, what if the invasion of fire country in season 3 went a bit differently? How would Aang be changed by this?
I am going to be working one hour a day on this fic (which I'll post here everyday), and I'll be putting my best effort, so please give me feedback and hang on to the ride!
Chapter One: Lonely Days
Aang woke up with the rising sun in his eye. He rubbed them groggily and rose to his feet, looking around the camp.
Then he realized that nobody was there. He remembered what happened with the invasion instantly of course - how his two best friends in the world had died at the hands of the firelord.
It hurt to even think about their names so he didn't.
And Appa, he was gone too. Dead like the rest of them. The whole mission was a failure.
He was the only one left, they were all dead.
So what would he do today? Would he continue his travels around the world?
Or would he mope around.
He had a very sunny happy disposition but right now it seemed to be broken. As he walked by the shore of the bay, he tried to cheer himself up.
A futile effort. The ship he had escaped had made it through in good condition though and with his airbending he could probably sail anywhere in the world.
But what good was it without his friends?
As he looked at the orange glow on the horizon that marked the rising of the sun in the East, he wondered why he had expected them to live forever - to live with him forever, maybe even outlive him.
This is war and people get hurt. But he felt bad. He felt like shit.
Kata-
No! Don't say it!
He looked at the ocean, how the blue waves rose and fell like it were breathing - like the Earth was alive and could feel his sadness and pain.
And he realized something at that instant, something that hardened him.
Life sucks.
It isn't all happy and good, it sucks.
They were gone and it was all the Fire Nation's fault!
He became angry. The rage rose within him in torrents, and he clenched his fist tightly and plunged it into the sand, not caring about the tiny shards of glass embedded into it from a recent battle, nor the loose sharp rocks. None of it mattered.
He punched it again and again. Release the rage.
But it was an ocean full.
There was too much.
He sat down with his head between his knees and for the first time in ages he cried.
The last time he had sobbed like this was when the implications of him being the avatar had reached him. Back when he made up his mind to run away.
Back when he abandoned his people.
And left them to die.
I...
I...
I'm weak.
He thought -- and his thoughts were like the very ocean, uncontrollable, whirling -- about his future plans.
He would continue where they had left off and try to learn all the four elements.
But not to free the world from the Fire Nation's grip.
His facial expressions changed into an angry snarl and a sharp bright light -- the first signs of the avatar state -- formed into the middle of his pupils. But it did not completely fill his eyes.
He was in a half state.
For now.
He had power.
Brimming in his fingertips.
He bit the pad of his thumb and flicked blood in the air. It floated, changed shape, until it became a sharp miniscule dagger. A needle really.
He imagined the fire nation...
... and he plunged the needle into it's heart.
"I will destroy you!" He roared out to the sea, the ocean waves and the breeze that went softly past his ears being the only answer he got back.
With tears in his eyes, he vowed to get revenge upon the fire nation.
-------
Wall to ceiling windows allowed the last vestiges of sunset's rays to fill the room. Zuko stood, staring into the night sky at the almost distinct image of the crescent moon as he thought about his life.
In twilight everything was possible.
And he richly painted his future life, away from the Fire Nation.
He would abandon it. He had already packed his bags and now while his father was busy with the rebuilding and the administrating, he could go away.
He could look for his Uncle, Iroh.
But he had a more important thing in mind.
The Avatar.
I wanted to help him... he thought, sadly, but he won't care anymore. I killed his friends... but I had to... they were trying to kill me.
No, he heard a tiny voice -- his conscience perhaps? - say in the back of his mind. They tried to pass through, and you stopped them.
Because the Avatar was fighting his sister and those two tried to help.
And he simply destroyed them.
He hadn't meant to but it just came - a well of power deep within his heart: lightning.
The very first time he performed the lightning strike had been for the defence of his father.
The one he hated so very much.
Now, he couldn't go to the Avatar.
He only had Uncle Iroh left and he would seek the old man out.
And make him answer a few questions in his mind. Mysteries, about his origins, his mother, everything.
He deserved to know his heritage.
But as night descended completely and the moon outshone the dying sun, as lightning buzzed within the tips of his fingers, he felt alone.
All alone.
And vulnerable.
He moved fast.
-----------------------------------
Iroh...
The name had conjured fear once, back when he was at the height of his power at Ba Sing Se.
Now, look at him.
He had lost his fat, he was regaining his former glory.
He could never completely regain it of course, because he lacked something he had in the past, when he was General Iroh, heir to the throne.
Cruelty.
As he helped a lame deer by feeding it bread, his thoughts wandered toward the Avatar.
And to the promise he had made in the dungeons: 'I'm going to help you, Avatar. I'm going to help you fix everything.'
And he would. If only he could find the goddam brat.
But he was deep within the mountains, and he was journeying to the Airbending City of Lokishmere where he hoped the Avatar would visit in time.
Besides, a village still thrived there and they made good tea.
------
The Avatar set sail in the afternoon after packing a basket filled with apples. Delicious green apples that he had picked from the trees ringing the shore.
He liked apples. He liked to munch them.
He liked to munch loudly so he wouldn't have to think because when he thought he thought about the Thing.
And the Thing made him said.
So he didn't think.
Instead he munched apples, wandered around the ship, making it almost fly with his airbending skills.
Instead it barely grazed the ocean, and it was pretty close to flying.
If he were like Monk Tiasto back home -- a century ago -- he would be able to do it.
The head monk was an airbending genius. He could probably make the ship fly.
Fly like Appa?
STOP!
STOP THINKING ABOUT THE THING GODDAMIT!
He relaxed, closed his eyes and sat down on the rocking boat. He put his fists together in front of his chest and concentrated on his breath.
Meditation: the answer to all of life's problems.
Because in meditation he didn't have to think about the Thing anymore.
And he could simply be himself: joy filled, a happy twelve year old child.
An airbender.
The Avatar.
Revenge intruded upon his meditations. Revenge came everywhere, tied to everything and he couldn't get rid of it; couldn't get rid of his anger.
So he trained.
He practiced his water bending day and night, to help with the ship and to remember her.
Don't think the Thing! He warned himself.
He practiced air bending.
Those were the only two things he knew.
And a bit of earth bending as well but the blind girl was gone too-
Don't think-
There was no earth here, save for a bit of coal to heat the ship.
But he practiced it anyways.
He was going due North.
Because South was Fire, and he didn't want to be there anymore. Just due North until he saw a shoreline.
Then things would change.
Something would happen.
He believed in fate. Loved it and hated it.
He believed in Love.
He believed in...
...Revenge.
It would come, he promised himself, my revenge will come one day.
The day when he would singlehandedly destroy the Fire Nation.
On the second day of his trip something indeed happened: a sea monster arose from the depths of the ocean. It had three heads.
It was a serpant: a giant one.
And mosntrous.
Aang flew into the air, riding on the wind and set out to meet it. He was eager for a challenge, he wanted to fight.
He wanted to die.
He wanted to release the anger and the rage bubbling in his heart; the pain and the sadness; and the terrible revenge that boiled his blood and set his heart on fire.
He rode the wind, and he made the waves rise to form a prison surrounding the sea monster.
It fought hard.
Aang fought hard and used his air bending and water bending to rain down blows upon the beast.
He concentrated.
Felt the earth beneath the ocean: and made it rise.
Then he ran because he was too exhausted to do anything else.
That ended in failure...
------------------------------------------
Iroh journeyed through the mountains where fresh green timothy grass grew in spades; where the air was always cold and frigid; where the hills were rocky and hard to climb; where wild animals roamed. It was a miserable journey for old Iroh, who was clad in a monkÆs brown wool robe, one that he had bought from a monastery ten miles away. He walked with a stick he had fashioned out of a fallen tree with the aide of his fire, a walking stick to help him across the rocky mountains of Old Air kingdom for the city was far, and to journey there would require the utmost degree of perseverance; of turtle like determination where slow and steady wins the race û where it is the only thing that wins the race. In this fashion he journeyed through the mountains, felt his whiskers freeze off, felt his legs weaken, felt arthritis develop in his joints and blisters on his feet where the soles of his shoes were tearing apart. He walked hard and far each day and night and ate meager portions of the food he had packed û the food he had bought from the monastery. æNice people, those monks were,Æ he thought to himself, not allowing thoughts of negativity to interfere with his ultimate purpose He would need all the courage and strength he could muster for his mission in life, the one he had given himself, was to train the Avatar in the ways of firebending.
He saw it like this: he was the only one who could do it, simply because he was a MASTER. He had learnt with the dragons, he had fought many battles and he could efficiently and fully train the Avatar in all the ways of fire bending so the boy could fulfill his destiny. Of course the perils would be large and hardships numerous, especially in gaining the boyÆs trust, but the reward would be beautifulà imagine a world without the sickness and pain that the Fire Nation caused, imagine a world of freedom: freedom to be yourself, to obey the laws of nature deep within you; freedom of elements. Fire was just a part of the four elements, it wasnÆt the only one and for Iroh, it had its limitations. Fire destroyed, but the other elements created and so in his mind fire would always hold a lower place than the other three elemental powers.
He trekked through the mountainous terrain, unfeeling to the pain it caused his aged body because his mind was focused and his purpose was strong and he knew where he had to go; what he had to do: he had a plan.
----------
The Avatar was cold and hungry and desolate aboard his ship, and he was exhausted as well. From the food stores he ate the grain, raw, and found his digestive system could easily process it into energizing food. He drove the ship relentlessly on, looping around the territory of the three headed serpent monster. He had his own plan in his mind: go on, go on young Aang and journey out into the world. Become powerfulà for what?
Dead bodies of two children, brother and sister, invaded his dreams. Appa, the furry chubby animal û a gigantic animal, a pet, a playmate, a friend û called out to him in his sleep. He could not find any rest in sleeping so he stayed awake and he simply stared with a vacant expression at the waves of the sea, how it rocked up and down. He compared it to life, how life rocked up and down and he thought at once of a trampoline. They had a lot of them back in his home û centuries ago û back in Airbending temples.
He was tired and sick but he had to go on, for he had no other choice. What could the avatar do but continue onward on his journey of life, for stopping meant passiveness and that meant listening.
To whatà the dead bodiesà the cries of pain and the screams of help. And he could not handle that so he sat in a deep meditative silence, staring at clouds clustering over him, grey and fluffy, stared at the moonÆs silver glow reflecting off a calm ocean, of it receding past the clouds; of rain gently falling down in blankets. The downpour steadied and turned into a raging storm, a chaotic storm. The storm that symbolized his life perfectly. WasnÆt his life out of control?
He had never asked to be frozen in time, frozen in space, when things just stopped and died and he was left all alone in the world, without a friend, without a family. With nobody to help and aide him, he pitied himself, cloaked himself in the softness of self pity as he thought: I am probably the worst off Avatar in history.
The worst.
Thunder rumbled and lightning struck down, as if the gods above were agreeing with him.
But as his eyes turned shadowy and hard, as his pupils dilated into a brilliant white sheen, he had only one thought in mind.
No matter what, he was going to get his revenge, and he would not rest until the entire Fire Nation was wiped off from the face of the world.
Forever.
-----
End of chapter one.
To be Continuedà
Feedback please!
I am going to be working one hour a day on this fic (which I'll post here everyday), and I'll be putting my best effort, so please give me feedback and hang on to the ride!
Chapter One: Lonely Days
Aang woke up with the rising sun in his eye. He rubbed them groggily and rose to his feet, looking around the camp.
Then he realized that nobody was there. He remembered what happened with the invasion instantly of course - how his two best friends in the world had died at the hands of the firelord.
It hurt to even think about their names so he didn't.
And Appa, he was gone too. Dead like the rest of them. The whole mission was a failure.
He was the only one left, they were all dead.
So what would he do today? Would he continue his travels around the world?
Or would he mope around.
He had a very sunny happy disposition but right now it seemed to be broken. As he walked by the shore of the bay, he tried to cheer himself up.
A futile effort. The ship he had escaped had made it through in good condition though and with his airbending he could probably sail anywhere in the world.
But what good was it without his friends?
As he looked at the orange glow on the horizon that marked the rising of the sun in the East, he wondered why he had expected them to live forever - to live with him forever, maybe even outlive him.
This is war and people get hurt. But he felt bad. He felt like shit.
Kata-
No! Don't say it!
He looked at the ocean, how the blue waves rose and fell like it were breathing - like the Earth was alive and could feel his sadness and pain.
And he realized something at that instant, something that hardened him.
Life sucks.
It isn't all happy and good, it sucks.
They were gone and it was all the Fire Nation's fault!
He became angry. The rage rose within him in torrents, and he clenched his fist tightly and plunged it into the sand, not caring about the tiny shards of glass embedded into it from a recent battle, nor the loose sharp rocks. None of it mattered.
He punched it again and again. Release the rage.
But it was an ocean full.
There was too much.
He sat down with his head between his knees and for the first time in ages he cried.
The last time he had sobbed like this was when the implications of him being the avatar had reached him. Back when he made up his mind to run away.
Back when he abandoned his people.
And left them to die.
I...
I...
I'm weak.
He thought -- and his thoughts were like the very ocean, uncontrollable, whirling -- about his future plans.
He would continue where they had left off and try to learn all the four elements.
But not to free the world from the Fire Nation's grip.
His facial expressions changed into an angry snarl and a sharp bright light -- the first signs of the avatar state -- formed into the middle of his pupils. But it did not completely fill his eyes.
He was in a half state.
For now.
He had power.
Brimming in his fingertips.
He bit the pad of his thumb and flicked blood in the air. It floated, changed shape, until it became a sharp miniscule dagger. A needle really.
He imagined the fire nation...
... and he plunged the needle into it's heart.
"I will destroy you!" He roared out to the sea, the ocean waves and the breeze that went softly past his ears being the only answer he got back.
With tears in his eyes, he vowed to get revenge upon the fire nation.
-------
Wall to ceiling windows allowed the last vestiges of sunset's rays to fill the room. Zuko stood, staring into the night sky at the almost distinct image of the crescent moon as he thought about his life.
In twilight everything was possible.
And he richly painted his future life, away from the Fire Nation.
He would abandon it. He had already packed his bags and now while his father was busy with the rebuilding and the administrating, he could go away.
He could look for his Uncle, Iroh.
But he had a more important thing in mind.
The Avatar.
I wanted to help him... he thought, sadly, but he won't care anymore. I killed his friends... but I had to... they were trying to kill me.
No, he heard a tiny voice -- his conscience perhaps? - say in the back of his mind. They tried to pass through, and you stopped them.
Because the Avatar was fighting his sister and those two tried to help.
And he simply destroyed them.
He hadn't meant to but it just came - a well of power deep within his heart: lightning.
The very first time he performed the lightning strike had been for the defence of his father.
The one he hated so very much.
Now, he couldn't go to the Avatar.
He only had Uncle Iroh left and he would seek the old man out.
And make him answer a few questions in his mind. Mysteries, about his origins, his mother, everything.
He deserved to know his heritage.
But as night descended completely and the moon outshone the dying sun, as lightning buzzed within the tips of his fingers, he felt alone.
All alone.
And vulnerable.
He moved fast.
-----------------------------------
Iroh...
The name had conjured fear once, back when he was at the height of his power at Ba Sing Se.
Now, look at him.
He had lost his fat, he was regaining his former glory.
He could never completely regain it of course, because he lacked something he had in the past, when he was General Iroh, heir to the throne.
Cruelty.
As he helped a lame deer by feeding it bread, his thoughts wandered toward the Avatar.
And to the promise he had made in the dungeons: 'I'm going to help you, Avatar. I'm going to help you fix everything.'
And he would. If only he could find the goddam brat.
But he was deep within the mountains, and he was journeying to the Airbending City of Lokishmere where he hoped the Avatar would visit in time.
Besides, a village still thrived there and they made good tea.
------
The Avatar set sail in the afternoon after packing a basket filled with apples. Delicious green apples that he had picked from the trees ringing the shore.
He liked apples. He liked to munch them.
He liked to munch loudly so he wouldn't have to think because when he thought he thought about the Thing.
And the Thing made him said.
So he didn't think.
Instead he munched apples, wandered around the ship, making it almost fly with his airbending skills.
Instead it barely grazed the ocean, and it was pretty close to flying.
If he were like Monk Tiasto back home -- a century ago -- he would be able to do it.
The head monk was an airbending genius. He could probably make the ship fly.
Fly like Appa?
STOP!
STOP THINKING ABOUT THE THING GODDAMIT!
He relaxed, closed his eyes and sat down on the rocking boat. He put his fists together in front of his chest and concentrated on his breath.
Meditation: the answer to all of life's problems.
Because in meditation he didn't have to think about the Thing anymore.
And he could simply be himself: joy filled, a happy twelve year old child.
An airbender.
The Avatar.
Revenge intruded upon his meditations. Revenge came everywhere, tied to everything and he couldn't get rid of it; couldn't get rid of his anger.
So he trained.
He practiced his water bending day and night, to help with the ship and to remember her.
Don't think the Thing! He warned himself.
He practiced air bending.
Those were the only two things he knew.
And a bit of earth bending as well but the blind girl was gone too-
Don't think-
There was no earth here, save for a bit of coal to heat the ship.
But he practiced it anyways.
He was going due North.
Because South was Fire, and he didn't want to be there anymore. Just due North until he saw a shoreline.
Then things would change.
Something would happen.
He believed in fate. Loved it and hated it.
He believed in Love.
He believed in...
...Revenge.
It would come, he promised himself, my revenge will come one day.
The day when he would singlehandedly destroy the Fire Nation.
On the second day of his trip something indeed happened: a sea monster arose from the depths of the ocean. It had three heads.
It was a serpant: a giant one.
And mosntrous.
Aang flew into the air, riding on the wind and set out to meet it. He was eager for a challenge, he wanted to fight.
He wanted to die.
He wanted to release the anger and the rage bubbling in his heart; the pain and the sadness; and the terrible revenge that boiled his blood and set his heart on fire.
He rode the wind, and he made the waves rise to form a prison surrounding the sea monster.
It fought hard.
Aang fought hard and used his air bending and water bending to rain down blows upon the beast.
He concentrated.
Felt the earth beneath the ocean: and made it rise.
Then he ran because he was too exhausted to do anything else.
That ended in failure...
------------------------------------------
Iroh journeyed through the mountains where fresh green timothy grass grew in spades; where the air was always cold and frigid; where the hills were rocky and hard to climb; where wild animals roamed. It was a miserable journey for old Iroh, who was clad in a monkÆs brown wool robe, one that he had bought from a monastery ten miles away. He walked with a stick he had fashioned out of a fallen tree with the aide of his fire, a walking stick to help him across the rocky mountains of Old Air kingdom for the city was far, and to journey there would require the utmost degree of perseverance; of turtle like determination where slow and steady wins the race û where it is the only thing that wins the race. In this fashion he journeyed through the mountains, felt his whiskers freeze off, felt his legs weaken, felt arthritis develop in his joints and blisters on his feet where the soles of his shoes were tearing apart. He walked hard and far each day and night and ate meager portions of the food he had packed û the food he had bought from the monastery. æNice people, those monks were,Æ he thought to himself, not allowing thoughts of negativity to interfere with his ultimate purpose He would need all the courage and strength he could muster for his mission in life, the one he had given himself, was to train the Avatar in the ways of firebending.
He saw it like this: he was the only one who could do it, simply because he was a MASTER. He had learnt with the dragons, he had fought many battles and he could efficiently and fully train the Avatar in all the ways of fire bending so the boy could fulfill his destiny. Of course the perils would be large and hardships numerous, especially in gaining the boyÆs trust, but the reward would be beautifulà imagine a world without the sickness and pain that the Fire Nation caused, imagine a world of freedom: freedom to be yourself, to obey the laws of nature deep within you; freedom of elements. Fire was just a part of the four elements, it wasnÆt the only one and for Iroh, it had its limitations. Fire destroyed, but the other elements created and so in his mind fire would always hold a lower place than the other three elemental powers.
He trekked through the mountainous terrain, unfeeling to the pain it caused his aged body because his mind was focused and his purpose was strong and he knew where he had to go; what he had to do: he had a plan.
----------
The Avatar was cold and hungry and desolate aboard his ship, and he was exhausted as well. From the food stores he ate the grain, raw, and found his digestive system could easily process it into energizing food. He drove the ship relentlessly on, looping around the territory of the three headed serpent monster. He had his own plan in his mind: go on, go on young Aang and journey out into the world. Become powerfulà for what?
Dead bodies of two children, brother and sister, invaded his dreams. Appa, the furry chubby animal û a gigantic animal, a pet, a playmate, a friend û called out to him in his sleep. He could not find any rest in sleeping so he stayed awake and he simply stared with a vacant expression at the waves of the sea, how it rocked up and down. He compared it to life, how life rocked up and down and he thought at once of a trampoline. They had a lot of them back in his home û centuries ago û back in Airbending temples.
He was tired and sick but he had to go on, for he had no other choice. What could the avatar do but continue onward on his journey of life, for stopping meant passiveness and that meant listening.
To whatà the dead bodiesà the cries of pain and the screams of help. And he could not handle that so he sat in a deep meditative silence, staring at clouds clustering over him, grey and fluffy, stared at the moonÆs silver glow reflecting off a calm ocean, of it receding past the clouds; of rain gently falling down in blankets. The downpour steadied and turned into a raging storm, a chaotic storm. The storm that symbolized his life perfectly. WasnÆt his life out of control?
He had never asked to be frozen in time, frozen in space, when things just stopped and died and he was left all alone in the world, without a friend, without a family. With nobody to help and aide him, he pitied himself, cloaked himself in the softness of self pity as he thought: I am probably the worst off Avatar in history.
The worst.
Thunder rumbled and lightning struck down, as if the gods above were agreeing with him.
But as his eyes turned shadowy and hard, as his pupils dilated into a brilliant white sheen, he had only one thought in mind.
No matter what, he was going to get his revenge, and he would not rest until the entire Fire Nation was wiped off from the face of the world.
Forever.
-----
End of chapter one.
To be Continuedà
Feedback please!