Art Drawn By Me!
Hi! I'm back! Mom's back to full health, but... another family member is on their death bed... so it may be a while before I'm fully able to get back on my schedule. Thank you guys for being so patient, and for all of your well wishes.
Your Author,
-Jenna
PS: For a while now, I've been working on a new MHA fanfiction for which I have a bit of art. I was planning to hold off on posting it until this was all over, but it has eight chapters finished right now and may take the place of my Esper Hero Fanfic in the future.
Thank you again, now on to the story.
Aang was terrified, understandably. He was currently blocking and dodging heavy blows from this menacing and powerful watertribe warrior out of nowhere! As an airbender, he thought that he was fast.
But with that spear in hand, Ayaan was like a fish in water.
When the spear spun, he could hear the whistle in the air. The moment the spear connected with his staff he could hear the air snapping at the abruptness. It was a torrent of blows, a flowing dance of never-ending, ever-changing attacks. Aang could feel his arms burning from the strain of blocking them all.
He fought back the feelings of déjà vu hitting him. He, in this life, had never met anyone like Ayaan before. So why did he feel like he had? Why was there such a connection?
In a past life, could he have met someone like Ayaan before?
Right now, he couldn't think about that, he was defending himself.
In all of this, however, never once did Aang attack him. He never went on the offensive, only blocking his blows or dodging them. He didn't want to hurt Ayaan, though the chance of that happening was slim to none.
He didn't want to hurt anyone.
This thinking did not do him any favors against Ayaan, who managed to deliver a hefty blow to his abdomen with his fist after switching to his single-handed spear tactics.
It was a scary feeling for the air nomad to have the wind knocked out of him.
When he looked up, he found Ayaan scowling at him. It wasn't a disappointed frown, but one that was trying to hide a grimace. This was not easy for Ayaan either, because he knew Aang would be like this.
He knew he didn't want to fight. If he was being honest, Ayaan didn't want him to. None of them. But he had to, and Ayaan knew this too.
"Attack me, Aang," He said. He slammed his spear into the ground hard, causing cracks to form where it landed. The boom resonated through the forest they were battling in, and the frown he wore only deepened, "You can not remain on the defensive. I'm not the type you can run from, there are traps everywhere in this area."
"When did you—cough!—have enough time to—cough! cough!—do that?!"
"I've been setting traps since you all started your hunts." He said evenly, not at all bothered by the wide eyes of his peaceful foe. For Ayaan, traps were a simple task, and he'd had weeks to transform his southern pole tactics into something more useful in places like these.
He bought everything he needed from a shop in Omashu. No, that isn't quite right. When they got out of the palace, he was given those supplies by them as thanks for his help earlier in the day. He'd helped a lot of people during his little info-gathering, shopping, sightseeing adventure.
But his mind wasn't focused on that. He needed Aang to attack. It could not just be a means to escape or just a deflection.
"Aang, you can not only defend. You must attack me."
"Cough! Cough!" He had to catch his breath, reeling from the pain in his stomach, "But I don't want to attack you! I don't want to fight you!"
"You are not always going to have a choice in the matter, Aang."
Aang flinched back at the firm tone Ayaan held. The warrior sighed.
Of course, he didn't want Aang to fight. He didn't want his siblings to fight either. Why would he ever want children to fight a war? He was the eldest, if there was any hardship, it should be his to shoulder.
He was stronger, he was the first son, any burden they had... they should be able to leave it to him, to let him deal with it so they didn't have to. To him, that was his obligation, his promise.
He promised to keep them safe by any means necessary.
If he had to take on the entire world, he would do so in a heartbeat.
Aang was included in that promise.
But he knew that this was only a wishful dream in times like this. If this war was to come to an end, to truly end, then the Avatar had to step up and do his job. A job that should have been done a century ago.
If Ayaan was being honest, he had a bone to pick with Aang's past life, Roku. What the hell was he doing to allow this war to formulate during his time? If he had done his job properly, Aang wouldn't have had to deal with this bullshit a hundred years later. His people would have never been murdered, the war would have never happened...
His mother would still be alive.
But there was no way he could know all of the facts. Maybe something happened that prevented what should have been done from being done? There was no way to know, and Ayaan wasn't the type to dwell on things he would never understand. All he knew was that the end was near, and if they had any hope of turning the tide, Aang needed to step up.
As much as Ayaan hated that fact... it was true. Aang was the Avatar. As the Avatar, he was going to be at the heart of this conflict. When this war was at its end, it would be his decision that decided the fate of the world.
But this unimaginably important person to the world was a 12-year old child who hated fighting, conflict, and even took his beliefs far enough to be vegetarian.
How can a pacifist fight a war?
Ayaan wasn't sure, himself. All he knew was that running away, dodging, and blocking would do nothing against the fire nation. Aang could not continue like this. If he did...
Everyone would be in danger, including Aang himself.
He... he didn't care if he got hurt. He was already branded with the scar across his body, the mark of his failure. It didn't matter if more scars followed, be it on his mind, body, or soul. Nightmares were nothing, insomnia was nothing. For them, he would endure anything.
He would sacrifice anything.
But as much as he wanted to be the one to protect them, he knew that there would be times he could not. Which is why he needed them to be able to protect themselves. He needed to set their foundation so that when the world decided to quake around them, they would be able to stand firm.
The day they grew up and lived their lives the way they wanted... The day they didn't need him anymore... would be the proudest day of his life.
He drowned out the voices that screamed that they could leave him behind. The voices that always told him it would be his fault because he'd failed to protect someone before. He drowned out the screams that he'd never be enough to protect them. Evil, horrid voices told him this sadness he felt wasn't something he deserved to show.
He ignored them in lieu of his grandmother's voice. That kind, familiar voice told him everything would be okay. Her voice spoke of love and family, lifting him away from those dark thoughts that lingered in the very depths of his mind.
He dearly missed her. It sometimes seemed that he was the only one who missed home.
But enough of this, Aang had caught his breath; it was time to continue.
"There will come a day when you will have to fight," Ayaan said, closing the distance once again. This time, Aang used his airbending in an attempt to keep the distance between them, "You've experienced this already."
Yes. Aang had experienced those situations before.
Their frequent encounters with firebenders, that prince Zuko, and even the trials with Bumi, Aang had been forced to think differently than he normally would.
His pacifistic, peaceful ways didn't always work.
But they were the ways of his people, his ways.
Aang didn't like violence. He'd lived in a time when all of the nations had been peaceful. He had friends all over the world, from different walks of life and cultures. But after receiving news of his Avatar title, everything changed.
And then he ended up in the iceberg, and suddenly, the world was destroying itself in a war that took everything he'd known away. The only pieces of the world he'd known that survived were Appa, Momo, and his friend Bumi.
His culture, his beliefs, his ways... he wanted to hold on to them, to what little he had left.
He knew that this thought was selfish. His pacifism, his optimism... he wasn't stupid. He knew how hard, no, almost impossible it would be to stick to those beliefs in a world like this.
Not fighting back in a world that wants to chew you up and spit you out was the same as asking blue and red to make green to a warrior like Ayaan.
He knew that the older boy wanted nothing but the best for him, he'd made it known clearly how much he hated putting them in any danger. The only reason he was training them at all was so that they would be able to defend themselves in the scenario that he couldn't.
Aang hated that thought. He hated Ayaan being in danger. He hated Sokka and Katara being in danger. He hated this war. He hated the one who started it.
But was there really no peaceful solution? Did more people have to be hurt? Did he really have to hurt someone for it all to end?
Ayaan noticed his indecisiveness. It reflected in his movements as he struggled to keep him away. Duck, jump, dodge, slide, with his every avoidance of Aang's airblasts, he continued to come closer.
"You mentioned that your people were peaceful nomads," Ayaan said, dodging currents of invisible air easily as he continued to close the distance between them, "But that does not mean they did not fight back, Aang. Your mentor, Gyatso, is a prime example."
Aang's breath hitched at the name of his mentor, his form faltering.
"He chose to fight, Aang."
His best friend, his father-figure, Gyatso. He knew very well what Ayaan was talking about, though it made him want to break down and sob right then.
Gyatso, his bones... before they gave him a proper burial, he was surrounded by mountains of fire nation skeletons. They didn't just magically end up like that, Aang was no fool. He was just in denial of it all. Pure denial.
But Ayaan was ruthless in his honesty; he was a warrior, he could see the signs of struggle easily. He could recognize it, and he told it like it was.
Gyatso had fought back until his very last breath. He had fought, and he had killed, and Aang was certain that he had done so protecting their people. What other reason would there have been other than that?
In their people's time of need, he forewent his ways that spoke peace and became a warrior. He chose to use his bending to fight, and when he went down, he made sure to take his enemies with him.
How many of his people had made that same choice?
How many of his peaceful people were forced to forego their ways just to try and live?
How much heartache did Gyatso face when he made that choice? And...
When the time came, could he do the same?
Aang didn't know, and Ayaan knew this for a fact. He had been watching the boy since he first began training his siblings. No, he'd been observing Aang since the moment they met. And from what he'd seen, while Aang was an amazing combatant, he was not a warrior.
"I understand that you do not want to harm others. I understand that you do not want to kill." Ayaan said, having made it to him as they engaged in close-combat yet again. Aang was flustered at how easily Ayaan was reading his counters, even his airbending.
"But avoiding it without an alternative..." He continued. Aang was pushed back yet again, knocked away by a powerful blow of Ayaan's spear, "...Will only result in you or someone else getting hurt."
Ayaan stood, waiting for Aang to pick himself up off the ground once more, "I do not want you to get hurt. I don't want Sokka or Katara to get hurt. You being captured by Prince Zuko after giving yourself up for my village, Kyoshi Island, that crazy king—"
"—He's eccentric—"
Aang was ignored completely; Ayaan continued as if he said nothing, "All of these things put into perspective how dangerous this journey may become, and this is only the beginning, Aang. I'm sure that you understand this more than anyone." He ended in all seriousness.
Aang frowned, fully understanding where he was going with this. "Of course, I know that. I realized how dangerous and messed up this war was when," He fought back his heartache to continue, "when I found out what happened to Gyatso and the rest of my people."
"Yes," Ayaan said. While his tone was as firm as ever, Aang could see in his eyes how sad having him remember that made him, "I know."
They stood, facing each other as they both refused to be the first to engage. Ayaan was patient as he waited for Aang to continue. He knew that facing this type of reality was hard. He had to do so when he learned of his mother's death after waking up, too.
"On Kyoshi, I loved how everyone seemed to look up to me because I was the Avatar... but when they were attacked I realized how useless that title is to me right now. I don't know the first thing about being the Avatar..."
For the first time in a while, Aang allowed himself not to be a fun, optimistic child. He let his worries come out into the open. "People look at me with so much hope in their eyes, like my presence changes everything when I haven't done a single thing to warrant that type of reverence."
He took a moment to look at his free hand, "I don't know anything, yet I'm supposed to stop this war? I'm just one kid. How am I supposed to end a war like this...? Will learning the elements be enough? Will I be enough?"
"You will, and we will be right there with you every step of the way," Ayaan said without hesitation. Aang looked up from his hand, seeing the firm gaze of Ayaan locked onto him. So many emotions swirled in his blue eyes. For some reason, they were deeper than the seas he'd crossed for a moment, "But those are not the questions you must ask yourself, Aang."
The spear rose from the ground, and Aang could see the gray in his eyes lightening, changing color as he was watching.
Ayaan stood firmly, a fierce glare in his now icy blue orbs, "For what you believe in, for the future you want, for the things that you love, are you willing to fight? Or will you continue to run?"
Aang got into his own stance, willing his trembling limbs to still as he prepared himself. Ayaan had called this a test, and Aang knew the young man enough to know that his ways were extremely straightforward. Ayaan didn't want him to just beat him in a fight... no, Ayaan wasn't testing him on his skills.
Ayaan wanted something different from him, something that Sokka and Katara had, but he had yet to truly show him.
The Warrior pointed his spear towards his Pacifist Opponent. The weapon's large blade glinted in the setting sun, his eyes now ablaze with that terrifying, icy hue, "Show me your resolve, Avatar Aang."
Aang wanted to be able to show him, to prove to Ayaan that he was ready... But it was hard... Ayaan was the visage of everything that he just couldn't be, no matter how much he tried.
And Aang... he was scared.
Too scared to try to rise up to that visage, to that responsibility.
Too scared to face the things he knew he would have to do one day as the Avatar.
So despite his mind screaming at him to face Ayaan as the warrior had wanted, to spar with him and show him that he could do this, that he could fight for what he loved... his heart just wasn't ready.
He wasn't ready yet.
He didn't know when he'd ever be ready.
The Airbender faltered. Opening the glider wings in his staff, he could see Ayaan cease his charge as he flew away.
Ayaan did not pursue Aang, his purpose for this altercation had been met. His role in the world wasn't some game. While he was sure that Aang knew this, he wanted to see for himself how prepared he was for it.
Honestly, he was a bit surprised he'd sparred with him like that at all. He was trying his best, though he was in turmoil as he thought about what the fight was asking of him.
What did the world expect from a child? To suddenly be everything they needed and fix their problems? Ayaan didn't expect him to do that. No, he was surprised that Aang had lasted even that long before fleeing because of the pressure.
That told him that he was trying and that he knew how much he needed to grow.
Despite his childishness, Aang was no fool.
But despite him not being a fool, he was still a child at the end of the day.
He was still a pacifist.
And while that view would bend in the future to allow him to fight for those he loved, it would never break. In a way, Aang had indeed shown Ayaan his resolve.
The resolve to continue on the ways of peace, for as long as he was able.
Without further thought on the matter, Ayaan collected the things that Aang had left unintentionally. Daylight was dying out, revealing the stars within the darkening sky. His spear returned to his back, he began his journey back to camp.
He didn't forget to collect Aang, who had been predictably caught in one of his traps.
In his fear, he'd forgotten that Ayaan told him there were traps.
"What's with this?!" The Airbender called, caught in a sack similar to how Momo was caught on Kyoshi Island. His staff was tangled in a rope that wrapped around the wings, anchoring him to the ground.
Before Aang could slice the ropes with air, another trap went off and caught him.
Ayaan picked him up and put him over his broad shoulders, slightly shaking his head. "I told you. I set traps. I'm not the type you can run from."
Did he think the traps were for the animals?
Aang went silent for a moment, before he spoke up in a very subdued voice, "I'm sorry."
"You do not have to be sorry. The resolve to fight is not something that can just happen when you want it to." Ayaan said. "You did well to try, that was all I was looking for."
Ayaan didn't expect him to break his beliefs just like that. Would you give up your entire way of life at a moment's notice to do something you just weren't mentally, emotionally, or spiritually ready for? Certainly not Aang, and that was okay.
He would always look for the most peaceful solution, that was just how Aang was. Ayaan didn't want him to ever change. He just wanted him to be ready for the moment that didn't work. But if he was never ready... if he could not make those hard choices...
Ayaan's eyes were almost glowing in their blue, glaring into nothing.
'I'm fine making them myself.'
For them, he was willing to do anything.
Anything.
"Let's get to camp."