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Distortion

Book One: Water

Chapter One: Icebergs and Memories

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My grandmother tells stories of the old days, a time of peace. A time in which the Avatar kept peace between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads.

This all came to an end one hundred years ago, when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop the ruthless Fire Nation.

And according to legend, the Avatar did fight back, and the Fire Nation's plans were halted.

But it didn't matter.

Three years later, he disappeared, taking the world's hope for peace with him.

Now, the Fire Nation is nearing victory. The Air Nomads are long dead, the Southern Water Tribe is shattered, the Northern Water Tribe has isolated itself from the rest of the world, and the Earth Kingdom is eaten away day by day. My father and the other men the tribe have left their homes and journeyed to the Earth Kingdom in an attempt to fight back.

And me? I've been left here. I'm not old enough yet to fight in their battles, and what remains of the tribe needs to be defended, even if it's just me out here.

No one knows for sure what happened to the Avatar. I like to think that he died, because otherwise, he's just been ignoring us while we've slowly wasted away.

My little sister still hasn't given up hope. She likes to think that one day the Avatar will return and save the world.

I say that our problems need to be solved, Avatar or no Avatar.

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There were times that he wished he didn't live in the South Pole.

Impaling his canoe's bow in an iceberg and getting it grounded there definitely counted as one of those times.

That in itself was already a pretty big problem, but add in the fact that it was his sole means of transportation, and he was royally screwed. Sure, he could always swim back to his village, but he didn't really feel like freezing to death, because he was sure that the novelty of death would wear off quite quickly.

His mental checklist placed that novelty at least another few decades ahead of his current age, so he decided that he should stop standing around and get his canoe out of the iceberg.

Grasping the front of his just about ancient wooden canoe, he propped his left leg against the iceberg and pulled with all his might. But just as he expected, the boat remained lodged. He surely would've gained a splinter or two if he weren't wearing such thick gloves, so he mentally thanked Gran-Gran.

If muscling his way through his problems wouldn't get the job done (and it usually did in his experience), then he'd need a bit of help. And by a bit of help, he meant his trusty club.

He reentered his crashed canoe and grabbed his club, which he had luckily stashed beneath his seat, just in case. It was of fine craftsmanship, if he did say so himself, its body was made of a finely carved arctic hippo femur, with a handle covered in brown leather wrappings. At its head was an opaque azure orb, which was thankfully quite sturdy, otherwise it would have exploded in his face several times over.

Exiting his canoe once again, he positioned himself so that he could swing a complete arc that would hit right above the section of ice that the bow of his boat was impaled in. Attempting to exert as much force as his body possibly could, he swung.

His aim was true, and his power-strike (as he would later dub it) struck home, successfully raising his hopes as to his prolonged life. However, instead of the result being a large crack and the release of his canoe, it was a tremor that rocked both of his arms and almost sent him to the ground in pain. He regained feeling in his arms, albeit slowly, and checked his progress in the freeing of his boat. Luckily, his arms' sacrifices were not in vain, as there were a few pretty-good sized cracks at the point of impact.

"Yes!" He shouted to himself (and hopefully anyone else who could possibly be within hearing range of him). He grasped his club for a follow up swing, positioning himself the same as before. And, gritting his teeth, he swung the club again. His reward was a satisfying crunch that brought an anticipatory grin to his face and less pain to his arms.

The ice that had kept his vessel in place was now thoroughly crunched, and it now looked like he could easily pull the canoe out. He congratulated himself mentally and grasped the front end of the canoe.

He pulled…

…And it slid out of the ice with a loud scrape!

He was about to give himself a physical pat on the back, but a harsh crackling sound caught his attention before he could do so. He turned back to the iceberg where he thought the source of the sound was. A crack was beginning to make its way up and down the face of the ice, and from the looks of it, the whole thing was going to shatter. This wouldn't be a problem if he and his canoe weren't… y'know, right there next to it.

The crack looked like it had come from where he had just hit. Sometimes his intense strength really was a downside. This stood out as a time where it was a particularly large downside.

The crackling sound intensified.

The iceberg was now visibly falling apart, and it didn't look like it was going to stop mercifully. The canoe wasn't exactly in the water yet, and the time it would take to get it there was valuable time wasted. Hoping the quickly breaking iceberg wouldn't shatter the ice it laid on, he dropped his club and ran to a farther edge, leaving his only recently rescued canoe in its spot.

The iceberg split.

He watched in fear as one half of the iceberg fell to the ice sheet and the second half fell halfway into the water. The impact was loud, but thankfully, the ice held under the weight of the gigantic halves. His fear swiftly morphed into relief, and he made his way to his thankfully undamaged canoe.

Looking to where the iceberg had split, his happy trot ceased, and he stood in slight awe. Something had been inside of the iceberg. And oddly enough, it was another iceberg.

That in itself was not particularly amazing (at least according to his admittedly slim knowledge of icebergs), it was more the fact that the smaller iceberg appeared to be perfectly spherical. The thing was unblemished! If he didn't know any better, he would've said the thing had been carved!

He climbed over the broken pieces of ice from the original iceberg, grabbing his club along the way, and walked to the front of the giant ice sphere. Upon closer inspection he saw that the iceberg was a fairly translucent and vibrant blue. He pressed close to the ice and gazed into it.

There was someone in it.

His eyes widened in shock and he took a step back. He couldn't see any definite features of the person, but there was definitely someone trapped within the iceberg. Deciding that this was a fairly odd thing to see, he reiterated it to himself. "There is a person inside an iceberg."

Should he help? Were they even alive? Would they be friendly? Was this possible?

Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him? Yep that had to be it.

Opting to take another look, he moved back to the face of the ice, and peered into its cloudy depths. There was definitely a person in there. They seemed to be sitting, with their fists were pressed together, almost like they had been meditating when they had been frozen.

This was more than a bit creepy. For once in his life rational explanations betrayed him, and so he tried to press his face even closer to the ice and get a better look. Maybe the rational explanation was a bit deeper in the ice.

Suddenly, a brilliant blue arrow began to glow on the person's head, with two on his firsts erupting into light a split second later. Then their eyes snapped open, glowing that same ghostly blue.

He yelped and fell to the snow covered ice behind him in shock, and then he was blinded by an extraordinary light.

He covered his eyes at the great light, and when he finally stopped feeling its rays beating against his hands, he stopped and opened his eyes. He blinked them blearily and refocused his vision as quickly as he could, hoping to ready himself to assess the situation.

In those seconds that the light had shone, the iceberg had very nearly ceased to exist. In its place was a pedestal atop a slope and a person sitting on it, with some odd chunks of the iceberg lying here or there. The arrows which laid on the figure's hands and head ceased their glow, and the light which had been like a beacon faded. Finally, the person's eyes stopped producing their eerie light and closed.

He took deep breaths and calmed his whirring mind as best he could. As he did so, he took a closer look at the person. They were certainly male, and he looked to be pretty close to his own age in fact. He was dressed in odd, slightly baggy tan clothing, with a red sash tied around his waist. An intricately designed arrow tattoo adorned his shaved head, with two smaller arrows on the backs of his hands. He took a cautious step closer to the other boy, but froze in his tracks when the boy's eyes, now gray, opened.

They were immediately focused upon him. The bald boy pushed himself off the "pedestal" and landed easily on the frozen slope beneath him, his gray eyes not breaking contact.

In response he took a slight step and squared his shoulders, fixing his slouch as he did so to rise to his full height. He was a bit taller than the mystery kid, so he hoped he was as intimidating as he felt. "Hey!" He called, "Who are you? How'd you get out of there?" He balled one fist and readied himself to enter a fighting stance with his club in the other.

The kid looked around a bit, but kept his head firmly in his direction.

"I asked a question!" he reiterated, "Two, actually."

The other teen's eyes refocused on him "Where am I?" He asked in a low voice, ignoring him completely, "And who are you?"

He didn't like to talk in circles, so if it got him any closer to finding out who this kid was he'd throw him a bone, "This is the South Pole, hopefully all the snow was a hint. And I'm from the Southern Water Tribe."

The other teen seemed to relax ever so slightly.

"If you could answer my questions too I'd appreciate it."

The kid eyed him warily, but answered, "I'm Aang." He didn't answer the second half, but instead took a step back and whirled his head around to take in his surroundings better.

"And what about the iceberg?" He repeated.

"What about it?" The bald teen asked, still looking around at the shards the iceberg left behind.

"You were trapped in an iceberg," He replied, "I found you when I was getting my canoe out of an iceberg. The iceberg you were in, was inside the one I broke. You broke out of the other one by yourself, somehow." He explained, hoping he made sense, but nearly positive he had not.

The bald Aang's eyebrows raised, "Well, that's interesting." Most of his body language seemed to contradict his statement.

"So you have no idea how you got in there?" He asked, the whole 'teen being stuck in iceberg and getting out still alive' situation not being one he'd ever heard of.

"Not in the slightest." Aang said decisively.

"What about the pedestal?"

The mysterious teen shrugged, and kept looking around while he himself stood around like an idiot. Aang at least seemed to have dropped some of the threat in his body language, so he followed suit. Kinda. He was never truly off his guard, or at least that's what he liked to tell himself.

Hanging around awkwardly was definitely not a favorite pastime of his, so he pursued a different line of questioning, "So what are you gonna do now? You going to just keep looking at this ice? I've seen a lot of ice, and it's not all that interesting."

The teen seemed like he had intended to offer an answer, but something caught his attention and his head snapped to where he had previously been sitting, "Appa!" He yelled, "Appa, where are you?" Aang was back at the pedestal in what seemed like an instant, and was looking back and forth.

Wondering who or what Aang was yelling to, he tailed him, and began to ask, "Who's-" But he was cut off abruptly by a loud groan-like roar. Apparently, the iceberg had been a lot bigger than it seemed from the front, because there had been something else in the iceberg. Something that would have had to have been in the mass of ice with Aang, because he was quite sure he'd never seen it while out on his fishing trips.

Behind the slope the pedestal had rested on was a creature of truly massive proportions. It had a long snout, and comparatively short horns emerging from the sides of its head. Ropes were tied around the tips of the horns and a massive "saddle" (if it could be called that) was on its back, which looked like it could carry half the village. Its fur was largely snow white, besides the brown of its underbelly and the arrow-like pattern on its head. The creature was nearly three times as tall as Aang or himself, and had three pairs of legs and a long, powerful-looking tail. What exactly the animal was, he hadn't the slightest idea.

The large beast lumbered drowsily to Aang and then slowly brought itself to its knees.

"What is that thing?!" He shouted, his amazement evident as he pointed wildly to the six-legged creature.

Ignoring his question once again, Aang crouched down on the ground. In a seemingly impossible jump, Aang somehow propelled himself into the air and he landed lightly and skillfully on the neck of the beast. Sitting easily upon it, Aang turned to him, and said knowingly, "Appa's a Sky Bison." Aang rubbed the so-called Appa's head as he spoke.

Sky bison? Like Air Nomad Sky Bison? Was he really supposed to believe that? Surely this was an elaborate joke. That was the only way the iceberg could make any sense at all. Either that or Midnight Sun Madness. He was hoping dearly that it wasn't the latter.

"I need a place to rest before I head for the Southern Air Temple, could you lead me to your tribe?" Aang asked, his tone now seemed to be much lighter than it had been earlier, "I could give you a ride, I think it would take way less time on Appa than it would in your canoe."

He followed Aang's gaze, and saw that his canoe had broken into several pieces. He wasn't sure who or what this kid was, but at this point he really didn't have many options. Go with Aang or stay stranded on the ice. He didn't want to take a suspicious stranger home, but if it was that or almost certain death...

"Uh," His natural skepticism really wished to rear its head and force him to decline, but even if this guy was just a crazed acrobat with a scary pet, he didn't think he wanted to get on his bad side. Even with his club, this beast would be able to destroy him. If he hadn't lost his spear in the crash, then maybe he'd have had a chance. "I guess you could rest at the village for a while. As long as resting is all you do."

Aang nodded in thanks, and he walked slowly to the huge beast. Appa, it was named. "Do I just, climb up his legs and onto the saddle or is there some ladder I'm not seeing?"

"Appa's very friendly, he won't mind at all."

He didn't exactly want to anger the Bison, because this thing could probably break his spine with half of a swat of its tail, but he took the kid's word for it and scrambled up Appa's side, using its knees and upper legs as a step ladder. Dragging himself onto its back like a majestic tiger seal beaching itself, he saw the saddle up close. It was huge! It could easily carry half a dozen people and still have plenty of room for more. Climbing into it, he discovered that it was also fairly comfortable, unlike his now deceased canoe. He set his club right next to a long stick that was sitting inside it, and took a seat at the back end of the saddle. It was surprisingly comfy.

Aang turned to him after he had gotten settled, "Where exactly is your tribe?" He asked.

"That way," He replied, gesturing in the direction he was mostly sure was where his tribe sat, "It's a few hours trip with my canoe, but I got taken pretty off course by a current. I bet this guy can swim a lot faster than I can paddle though,"

Aang gave him a quizzical look, "Appa's a sky bison, he's not going to swim all that way."

"So you to expect me to believe he's going to fly?" He said skeptically.

Aang turned to face the water in front of them and grasped the reins tightly (which turned out to be the ropes tied around Appa's horns), "Appa, yip yip!" He shouted, whipping the reins.

Appa let out a groan-roar again, and its tail raised. Then, the tail slammed onto the ground. This unleashed a huge gust of wind, which launched the massive Sky Bison into the air. He felt a short lived sense of elation as the beast splashed unceremoniously into the water in front of them instead of taking flight. The bison was surprisingly buoyant. He was unexpectedly sad that it hadn't managed to actually fly, but hey, at least he was right that it couldn't!

Aang patted Appa's head and groaned, "Come on boy, now's not the time for swimming!" The great bison groaned back at him, and began to slowly swim in the direction he had pointed. Aang grunted and slouched. "He's not a very fast swimmer, but he is a consistent one. This is going to take a while, so get comfortable."

"What happened to flying?" He asked sarcastically, already quite comfortable.

"Appa's just tired. He'll show you what he can do later when he's all rested up," Aang replied.

He laughed inwardly. This kid could run fast and jump high, but the fact that his so called Sky Bison couldn't even fly really punched a hole in his implied claim to airbender-hood. His funky clothes and presence in the iceberg were definitely odd though. "Say Aang, you don't happen to be Fire Nation do you?"

Aang's head whipped around, "What? Of course not! Do I look like Fire Nation to you? I'm an Air Nomad."

There was such a venom in his words and anger in his eyes that he was almost inclined to believe him, but the Air Nomads had been dead for a very long time. The bald teen's skin was much paler than his own, so at the very least he could pass for Fire Nation. His skepticism was not unwarranted.

"Just checkin'," He said with a yawn.

So Aang almost definitely wasn't Fire Nation, but he was probably insane. Or perhaps a con artist of some sort. He'd figure it out later, for the time being whoever Aang was, he was giving him a ride back home on his Bison of questionable lineage.

"We probably won't be getting back to the tribe until after nightfall. There's not much between us and there but water, so if 'Appa' can keep a direction I'd say you take a nap," He offered, "I'm Sokka by the way."

Aang didn't answer, his face turned away from Sokka and focused on their destination.

At some point, Sokka noticed Aang slouch forward asleep. Sometime later Sokka himself succumbed to sleep's wiles.

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Aang pushed an open palm forward, letting loose a thin spear of air. The soldier had seen it coming, but it moved too fast for him to dodge at this close range and impaled him through the chest, tearing right through his armor. The soldier fell to the ground. Aang thrust an open palm at a group of soldiers, succeeding in knocking them off balance. He then held his other arm in front of his own face as if it were a blade, and in a rigid movement, sliced it diagonally, sending a blade of air at his still-staggering enemies. It cut deeply at their torsos and sent most of them to the ground in pain. They were quickly dealt with by another airbender a few feet to his right.

Aang observed his surroundings. Many Fire Nation soldiers were beginning to retreat, and his fellow airbenders were pushing them closer and closer to the edge of the Temple. Outer areas of the temple had been charred or completely destroyed, and the wreckage of many Fire Nation machines lay throughout the battlefield. The Elders had deemed it unwise for Aang to be at the forefront of their battles with the Fire Nation, but Aang felt it was his duty to be on the frontlines.

Suddenly there was a ruckus among the enemy troops. Many were shuffling around, and quickly they had formed into a more orderly rank. A tall man stepped in front of them, and the scattered combat ground to a halt. The Fire Nation soldiers fell behind this man, and the airbenders followed suit by falling to Aang's sides. The man was obviously a commanding officer.

He wore fairly elegant armor. The normally maroon and red armor was almost solely black, and the borders of the plates seemed to be made of or at least coated in silver. His shoulder plates were spiked like the standard armor, but unlike the standard armor he lacked the skull-like helmet. The man appeared to be in his late twenties, and his hair was tied into a topknot, as was customary of Fire Nation men.

Their eyes met, and the man grinned, "I challenge you to a duel!" The man shouted to him. The entire enemy force knew who Aang was, so most just chose to avoid him. This commander wanting to fight him alone was exceptionally bold.

"What do you mean?" Aang shouted back to him.

The man smirked, "You will fight me alone, and our soldiers will not participate in any way. If I win, obviously you die, and your people will follow you." he said, a nasty smirk adorning his face, "If you win, we cease fire for one month."

Aang didn't know if this commander would be able to hold to his word if he won. The Fire Lord could easily replace a derelict officer, but even the week or two it would take to get a replacement commander to the Southern Air Temple would be a great reprieve.

Aang knew he could win, and if for some reason he found himself losing, Aang saw no reason to play fair. If he broke the rules then they'd go right back to fighting like usual. Same as just minutes before. There were only positives to accepting his challenge.

Were the Elders not farther back defending the younger monks, they would have undoubtedly interfered, and prevented him from making this choice, "I accept!" He replied. A monk broke off from the main group behind and headed for the central area of the temple, no doubt to inform Gyatso and the others of what was happening, "What is your name?" Aang asked the commander opposite him.

"I am Commander Rochan, and I recommend that you say whatever prayers your barbarian culture may have." The man stepped forward into the no man's land between the Fire Nation troops and Air Nomads, and entered his firebending form. Both his hands were facing outward, one hand was close to his chest balled into a fist, and his other arm was stretching out, palm facing straight ahead.

Aang followed suit and positioned himself opposite the Commander, entering his own bending form. Both arms were bent and in front of him. One hand low as if were a blade, and the other raised perpendicular to it, fingers outstretched.

"We fight at the sound of the horn." Rochan told him.

Rochan took a step closer to Aang, and right as the horn blared he punched the air, unleashing a constant stream of fire.

Aang's eyes widened, and in a burst of wind-aided speed evaded the attack. Many novice firebenders used external fire sources, and even many mildly experienced firebenders at least kept a fire nearby. For Rochan to forego it completely spoke highly of his confidence. Aang thrust his right arm forward and let out a blast of wind at the man, forcing him to cut off his stream of flames and dodge the attack. Rochan was experienced in fighting airbenders. Avoidance was always preferable to blocking when fighting an enemy whose attacks are nearly invisible.

Bringing both his arms to his sides, Rochan formed twin knife-like fire streams at the bottom of his fists. Rochan then charged Aang, dodging the blasts of wind he'd sent his way. Rochan made a few swipes at Aang, but his Air Nomad heritage made twisting out of the way of such attacks all too easy. The only damage he sustained was a slight singeing on his shirt. Aang, having had enough of the fire-knives, sent Rochan flying backwards with an open palm and blast of air to his stomach.

Aang crouched down slightly, and in a gust of wind charged at Rochan, forming a blade of air around his arm. Aiming to at least significantly damage Rochan's armor, Aang slashed at his torso several times in quick succession. The armor had lost a few plates before the commander leapt several feet away and fired a quick blast with a low spin kick.

Jumping over the fire, Aang sent a windblade flying with a diagonal chop. Rochan evaded the attack by diving to the side, and quickly returned fire with several fireballs with a series of quick punches. Repelling the attacks by forming a large "wall" of wind that redirected the fire upwards, Aang decided that standard airbending attacks were fairly inefficient against this commander.

Aang formed a miniature blade of air over each of his fingers, and then curled them inwards. Bringing his hands up, he let out a gust of wind from each hand, which carried the air blades with them and at his opponent. Rochan had mostly dodged the blasts, but he had not expected the blades. A few nicked his face, and others cut at his already damaged armor. Not letting the commander have a chance to attack, Aang replicated his opponent's earlier low spin kick, though he let loose a sharp wave of air in place of fire. Immediately following the kick, he flattened his hand and thrust it forward, sending an air spear in the wake of his previous attack.

Rochan dodged the attacks with a swift leap out of the way, accompanied by a jet of flames as propulsion to push him even further. Rochan generated a small flame over his right hand, and then acted as if he was going to throw the flame. Instead, a large whip-like extension grew from the flame and extended across the area between the two combatants and straight to Aang. Pushing the whip aside with a quick gust of wind, he ran at Rochan, but was forced back due to the wild movements of the fire whip. Aang brought both his arms to his sides and behind him, and then he forced them forward and together at the same time. This created a massive shockwave of air that extinguished Rochan's whip and sent him hurtling to the ground.

Sprinting to where Rochan hit the ground, Aang readied himself to deal the final blow, but just before he was close enough he was knocked to the ground by a surprise kick from the prone commander. Aang quickly pushed himself to his feet with a gust of wind from his hands and was able to evade the fireball that had been sent his way. Rochan too returned to his feet and then entered the firebending stance he had started the fight with. Quickly forming a fire knife on one hand, Rochan charged Aang and shot off a short blast of fire with his other hand as he ran.

Aang blew the blast off course with a wave of wind, and met Rochan head on, a blade of air encasing his arm. Rochan attacked from the side with his knife, which Aang evaded and then countered with a low kick. Rochan jumped over the attack and with an overhead swipe of his arm formed an arc of flames that Aang was only just able to dodge. Pursuing the opening, Rochan extinguished his knife and sent a barrage of fireballs at Aang with an array of wild punches.

He managed to blow them aside with a quick twirl and gust of air, but was still forced further back. Rochan smirked, and formed two small flames within his hands. Now he formed two whips, though they were of much smaller length than his original. The whips' almost random flailing forced Aang on the defensive. Wind walls could knock the whips aside, but their almost physical nature meant they couldn't be completely extinguished easily. He was forced to dodge away with air enhanced jumps and bat the whips away as best as he could. Looking for more permanent cover, Aang spotted a ruined Fire Nation tank and hurried towards it, dodging the wild movements of Rochan's fire whips. Ducking behind the tank, Aang attempted to quickly form a plan of attack. The tide was turning against him, so he had to end it.

His planning was cut short as a ferocious blast of fire smashed the tank, sending Aang flying into a nearby temple wall, and destroying what had remained of the Fire Nation war machine. Aang hit the wall forcefully and slid to the ground. Looking up, Aang could see Rochan coming at him with impressive speed due to his use of fire jets on the soles of his feet and palms of his hands. Using a small burst of air, Aang was able to quickly return to his feet. Not waiting for Rochan to reach him first, Aang sent two air blades his way with swipes of his arms. Rochan easily maneuvered to the side with a sideways jet of flames and dodged the blades. Forming an air blade at the tip of each of his fingers as makeshift claws, he met Rochan face to face with a gust of wind.

Tearing at the Commander's chest with calculated slashes, Aang was able to cause significant damage to his armor, but was rapidly forced to move away in order to evade a sideways arc of fire. Aang avoided the attack and flung his claws at Rochan by crossing his arms in front of his chest and swiping diagonally, forcing him to dodge away. But, before Rochan could counterattack Aang swirled his hands and manifested a tornado-like current of air that not only succeeded in hitting the commander, but also sending him flying into the same wall that he had sent Aang into.

Aang sprinted after him as he flew, forming a blade of air around his right arm. Reaching Rochan just as he collided with the wall, he grabbed the commander by the collar of what remained of his armor and placed his air blade at Rochan's neck before he could appropriately react. He then brought it close enough to send blood streaking downward, but not kill him.

Behind him, Aang could hear the monks sighing in relief, "I win." He said decisively, before throwing him to the ground, Aang walked to his prone form, and stared him in the eyes, blade aimed at his chest, "If I fight you again, don't expect me to let you go." Allowing Rochan to return to his feet, Aang turned and walked back to the group of monks that had been watching, ready to dodge if Rochan's claim to honor ended up being worthless.

"The conditions shall be honored. You and your people get one month of cease fire, and then we return, more powerful than ever," Rochan said, arrogance on full display despite his failure, before he too returned to his group of soldiers, "Fall back!" He shouted.

Aang and his fellow Air Nomads watched as the large force of Fire Nation soldiers left the area and headed for their remaining transports. In the aftermath of the battle many of the younger monks congratulated Aang on the victory while the older ones were appreciative of his uncharacteristic display of mercy.

Aang was satisfied with his victory. He'd won a respite for his people that they dearly needed. Even if this ceasefire only ended up being a few days, anything helped out his beleaguered people. But just as it gave the monks time to recuperate, so too did it give the Fire Nation time to formulate a new strategy and reinforce the contingent stationed at the Southern Air Temple. The next wave would be fierce. Rochan had given him more trouble than he had predicted, Aang had to be ready for anything they could throw at him.

His people depended on him.

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"Hey Aang, we're here." Sokka said loudly, shocking Aang awake and back into the present. Stars still littered the sky above, but the beginnings of dawn were breaking out on the horizon. Appa paddled through the ice cold water slowly, clearly tired from the long swim.

Looking out beyond Appa's head, Aang searched for the massive city of ice that should've been there. Huge walls of ice and hundreds of igloos, and roads heading out to the various outposts of the South Pole. What he saw instead was a single igloo surrounded by less than a dozen tents. The massive wall of ice that could brave the harshest of blizzards was a pathetic formation of snow that a child could climb . A watchtower of compacted snow sat at the front of the wall and was already halfway to the ground. There was only one road.

This was not the great Southern Water Tribe he'd heard stories of.

Something was wrong.

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AN: When I originally published this back in 2010, I'd had a very different mindset. I was still in high school, wasn't too experienced in romance, etc. I was also really hyped about the live action movie, and so I was going to incorporate aspects of it into this fic such as firebenders needing a fire source, the armor design, and other junk. I still am going to keep a few things, mostly the Fire Nation armor (minus helmets), but Firebenders don't really need fire anymore, if you still remember the old draft. This won't be a harem anymore either, because as much sense as it makes for the last of a people to have multiple wives, I now know that being romantically involved with one person is hard enough, let alone multiple. Maybe there'll be a love triangle, but definitely no harem. If you're baffled by a male writer doing Zutara, just know that I only want to try and put my own spin on it. Hopefully a more realistic spin. However if you're here for the Zutara, it's a long ways off. It's not going to happen in an instant. Aang is the main character here, just like in ATLA, but there'll be plenty of perspective switching. It's AangxMai because I love weird pairings, and I've loved it since 2009. Hopefully I'll make you all love it too.

Canon will be the base, so expect similar plots and sequences of events, but also expect divergences due to a variety of factors. As it goes, there will be more and more divergences from canon, so just hold on for a little bit if you're not a big fan of stories that rely on canon events. Also, I really wasn't a big fan of Korra, so for the purpose of this story, almost all of the backstory set up in Korra you can assume is null in this story. There might be elements here and there, but for the most part you're really only gonna be seeing stuff from ATLA and maybe a few of the comics.

Constructive criticism is appreciated. Drop a review if you have the time, it really helps urge me to write more. If you have any questions lemme know, and I'm happy to answer if it's not too spoilery!

Also, if you haven't read it already, I strongly recommend Loopy's "Traitor's Face". It's a fantastic story that beat me to the punch at certain things that had been bouncing around in my head for ages. If you notice certain things that are eerily similar, let me know, it was probably an accidental absorbing and replicating of a cool idea and I'll change it. Loopy is a great writer and I hope this story can be a fraction as good as "Traitor's Face".