Author's Notes: Heyllo heyllo world! Im giving what I got to some fan fiction and hope you guys atleast enjoy reading it ^_^;.
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar Last Airbender……sucks, don't it?
Winding Dragons
The day was fresh, with a sky clear of clouds, a sun bright and showering light down on the earth below was blotched out by the ominous, shading monolith that the island's volcano made on the beaches of Ember Island. The air was thick, and the moisture upon it made the heat even worse. While the only seeming comfort came from the lightest, neatest of breezes, and the rolling waves from the surrounding ocean that crashed soothingly upon the sands in a constant, ceaseless rhythm.
Ember Island was one of the only -cheerful- places in The Fire Nation. It was actually the only place beyond the industry, the plight of the lower class, and the rigorous training of soldiers that didn't reek of the evil that plagued the system. It was in fact, one of the only places left unfettered by the cruelty, the arrogance, and the wicked nature of the country's leaders. Perhaps that in itself was reason enough for Heisen to be here. That wouldn't change his dislike of the place though. It might have been a getaway, a place of peace, and relaxation for anyone else, but it was running away for this teenage soldier.
Heisen stood in the sand, distanced from the noise and the excitement taking place nearby. He was motionless with lean, and taut arms folded over his chest, and eyes averted toward his feet and the ground that surrounded them. His skin was lightly tanned, an effect of his extensive training in the sweltering heat that was beat down and delivered from the sun outside. His hair was a mass of light brown strands, scattered over his scalp in a shaggy mess that looked only tended when it was washed. He was not extensively dressed, and this was not simply because of the heat. As a fire bender, he was trained to endure. So, it would be safe to assume that the single, simple pair of black and red-trimmed shorts he wore were for more or less comfort reasons. With these on he had freedom of movement, and in scuffles that were reasonably common just about anywhere in the Fire Nation between hormonal teenagers, he wouldn't have any cumbersome gear present.
It was like this, with a gentle breeze coursing by, and the soothing shift and sway of the ocean's waves that Heisen managed to find his little slice of peace. Under that sound, the voices of the others on the beach became distant, and drowned out while their movements soon became irrelevant. Sure, he might not have liked it here, but damn if he couldn't find a way to take in a little solace, right?
He was wrong.
At least, that was the only reasonable answer to give when a volleyball got volleyed off course by what could possibly be the most hellish kick in the history of The Fire Nation, and said volleyball came rocketing toward Heisen to drill him right in the side of the head. The initial force was pretty fucking incredible. It sent him right off kilter, and as that shooting sphere pressed through on his cheek, turned his head about, forced the saliva to go spewing out his pried open mouth, time seemed to still. He was able to muster but one thought, one inner cry amidst this most ferocious of blows and that cry was an angry, vulgar cry.
And so, Heisen hit the sand, spun around in ninety degrees following impact and slowly but surely mustering his strength back up. His hands shifted out to the sides, and he dug them down into the ground to steadily push himself up high enough that his knees could take to the ground and gradually, he could take to his feet and draw in a long, heavy breath.
With that accomplished, the teen drew up his right hand and gave a brief stroke of his fingers over his cheek, over the point of impact. "That's gonna leave a mark…" He murmured, tracing his index finger down a stinging soreness along his cheek. His head felt like a hundred pounds about now, but struggling against it Heisen shifted over and scooped up the volleyball, which had so conveniently settled in the sand next to its victim.
He eased back up, settling the weight of his body on his right foot and looked over the ball. Amidst his observations, the teen's eyes dropped into a narrow, and his upper lip curled. He had made one simple rule during his time here, and though it was never spoken he had hoped the others around here would still adhere to it. That rule, was that he wouldn't mess with them, so long as they didn't mess with him. Intentional or not, this little mishap had sparked a great deal of agitation inside of him.
"A little help!"
Heisen's gaze shifted immediately, focusing in on the voice and more specifically the one who had unleashed it. What he saw was a girl, white bikini, big, bright eyes, a lengthy ponytail, and a big, broad face played on by a wide spread of her lips to form a grin full of perfect pearly whites. Like most of the kids here, he recognized her. But all the same, he didn't know her name and certainly didn't care to. Maybe he was harsh to judge by appearance, but he had come to understand people effectively, and easily in doing so over the years, he didn't see why it might be different here.
"Sure." He called back, lifting the ball up as if he were about to serve it in their direction. Before he could even shift into the proper stance, he turned his hand over, and his fingers squeezed. His digits pierced into the material easier then one might think, and in a matter of moments what was once spherical now lay sprawled out in the sand with holes in it following an exertion of air and a brief toss by the wielder.
Instantly, he found himself distanced from sour faces, and to that he could only volley back to them a scowl. "You wanted help, right? Well, my help is a bit of advice, go do something productive that doesn't manage its way into my face." He snapped, turning from his present position to stalk off the other way. He figured they might make snide comments, but as this was Ember Island, he was sure that might be the end of it-----
"What's your problem?"
Heisen blinked, driven out of his thoughts as a hand clasped on his shoulder and dared tug him off balance and around to face the assailant. Shaggy, dark hair, an agitated, sneer, red shorts, and a body toned and hardened in a fashion that was more or less on par with his own. This guy had endured his fair share of battles, and given his reaction he was a bit irrational. Apparently, Heisen wasn't the only one on the island who didn't care to be.
It dawned on him suddenly, as his eyes surveyed the boy with haste, as he strolled his attention over his eyes, just who the other person was. Immediately, his brows furrowed and his upper lip curled into a sneer. The traitor, the banished prince of the Fire Nation, Prince Zuko right here in front of him. As much as the name, as the title stirred in Heisen a will to beat the bastard senseless, the possible consequences would be too much for him, and the disgrace would be palpable.
"Well!" He snarled, teeth gritting together and baring like a wild dog as he stared down Heisen. His footing, the fact he would touch him, and the way he looked down at Heisen was arrogant, and incredibly frustrating. There was only so much more to be endured.
"I just got pelted in the face by a ball, minding my own damn business. You'll have to forgive me if I found that reason to be annoyed."
"You could have just tossed it back!"
"And you could go dig a hole and stuff your head in the sand. I don't know about you, but I don't just duck away and ignore a problem Im faced with. That ball presented a problem, I dealt with it."
That, had apparently struck a nerve as Prince Zuko's hand was balled up, reared back and ready to fly. There were shouts the instant he made the move. One from the girl in white, covering her eyes. One from a girl with buns in her long black hair telling him to stop. The next, more of a laugh from a girl with a topknot, and the rest coming from various beach goers looking forward to a fight. The way they acted, and flocked….Heisen assumed that meant they didn't realize it was the prince…that alone, was reason enough for him to stand his ground.
His initial strike was in rage, and though a fire bender focused on the feeling to build their fire, it was not the means of controlling, and it wasn't wise to present so much aggression in the beginning of a conflict. Reason? You apply too much force into an attack like that, when your opponent has plenty of energy, and plenty of focus left to put against you, you set yourself up for something nasty. You also reveal a major weakness, that you're easily set off, and your emotion can easily be set to trip you up. That was careless, but certainly not a tactic Heisen would ever set beyond the banished prince's grasp.
Heisen's head jerked over to the side, letting the fist whiz by his cheek. Immediately, his feet shifted, striking up a stance, and though his hands also moved, they did not go for a blow. His opposition still had a hand to use, and regardless of his carelessness, he would likely set it forward to block in the miss of his strike. Their arms would likely meet and Heisen would have given his opponent a few moments more to recover. In a -true- fight, a moment, a few split seconds was all that was needed for a breath, and all that was needed for an attack to go off. So, he needed to strike where it with what, and where it was least likely for his opponent to guard.
His feet pushed him forward, and his chin dipped in toward his neck for a moment as Heisen drove his skull directly into the prince's face, cracking him directly in the nose. It might not have been artistic, it might not have been elegant, but the attack was damn effective. He had taken Zuko off guard, drawn first blood, and had unnerved him as the prince went staggering back.
Reacting to his opponent's movement, Heisen's feet moved forward again, slamming him into a set position with one quick stride toward Zuko. His right hand let loose, a quick jab of his right palm beneath the ribs, and a smooth cut to the gut with his left fist. He made contact with both, the strike to the ribs producing a sudden, stinging and lingering pain while the hit to the gut hammered into muscle and bruised the tissue.
Zuko wasn't able to recover just yet, and so Heisen didn't stop. He had struck his opponent off guard, he had taken advantage, and now it was time for him to drop his foe. He stepped, dug his heel into the sand, and kicked out with his other foot to loop Zuko's heel, pull it out from under him and take out his foundation. Without his stance set, and with his body already off balance, the foot gave just the extra nudge enough to drop Zuko right down onto his back.
Following this, Heisen didn't dare move over him. The teenager's feet immediately shuffled, and he slid his way back a few feet to break down into a combat stance. In that moment, Zuko's legs pulled up, spun and utilized the momentum to release a swirl of fire, and incidentally pull his body back to his feet. That release of flames, was precisely why Heisen moved back. To have gone overtop a fire bender like that? Stupid move, and it got a lot of the enemy killed when they let their emotions, the heat of battle overtake them in a fight.
It didn't look like the rage he had built up was going to change any time soon now either. That alone forced a smile to creep up Heisen's features. Maybe he was letting it get to his head, but he had no doubt he could take this guy.
There was extra movement then, a flash of white, and a flash of red leaving the growing crowd and before Heisen knew it he felt a sudden, stinging impact in his side. His eyes widened, and the unexpected force alone forced a peculiar noise not unlike a hack, and a growl in one. On the downside, his footing was shifted, his weight tossed back, and an immediate counter attack impossible. On the Brightside, he could now see his attacker. Clad in red, smooth skin, a toned, appealing shape, and hair pulled up. That was hardly the thing he noticed immediately though, and for all the allure this girl had with those things, they were hardly important when compared to what he was caught on….her eyes.
That strike to his side, as intense as it was had been a static shock in comparison to the full on lightning bolt that coursed through him following her gaze. He could see so much in them, that he found himself a mixture of things he could hardly understand immediately. But, as her next strike shot in for his stomach and to that he felt as if his insides had ruptured….and with one sudden, rippling shift and the wavering of his torso there was a roaring through his throat and a release of this morning's meal sprayed out to the side. It might have served him in the fight, hell, it could have set her way off guard, but….those eyes. He couldn't bring himself to do something that disgusting for his own protection…he couldn't find himself worthy enough in her presence to even try it.
Seeing as how he had just vomited, she stepped back, her left brow lifting lightly…as if questioning. She must have found his present condition to be a weakness, a submission if even it was unwilling. She was dead wrong though, and about to find that out. Heisen had no intention of giving in, of quitting like that.
Crouched, with hands on his thighs, Heisen spit out the remnants of fluid, and chunks and lifted his gaze toward her. She was like a statue. She made no movement, had her palms fitted neatly over her waist, and an air of confidence swarming her. It would be assumed then, that by her careless stance, her piercing gaze, and that warped little smirk of hers, she had no intention of losing.
He was going to make damn sure she knew that her intentions wouldn't account for shit. He bent his limbs, and with a kick off the ground pushed himself up and forward, swinging his elbows backward, to pull his weight in with one knee directed toward her chest. He was going to open it up now, and stir from her sucker punch to an actual fight.
Her left hand swung from her side, easily batting his knee away, and alternating her footing, she shot the other hand in to get him in the side of the face, missing by inches when Heisen's other knee buckled and he dipped down, straining his leg's muscle to keep him forward and thrust in toward her with both reared back arms let loose for her stomach.
Her smile never wavering, she turned and let both his limbs slide around her, and an uplifted arm shot her hand downward to smash into the top of his skull. He would have found himself face-first in sand, eating it down, but by chance he had just set his other foot down and with the aid of both, he had a strong enough base to keep himself above the sand.
That as an advantage, he dug his toes into the sand, and with a quick, heavy step he pushed into her, managing to knock her off balance, and open her up to an attack with his left hand, swinging an uppercut toward the arm still conveniently set above his head. Heisen smashed his knuckles into the underside of her bicep, turning her momentum around and turning the tables once he had her off balance. Her eyes were widened at that, surprised even and as he attempted to throw his elbow down toward her he felt a swelling pride….as if there was no chance of failure.
He was wrong.
Heisen saw an uncanny flexibility, and acrobatics in this girl now, and as unexpected as this was, he could hardly react in time before her foot came crashing into his jaw and everything he had worked up was lost. His footing, his advantage, his pride and that triumphant feeling….all gone and worse yet, it wasn't over. As he staggered, she twisted around in the air and brought her heel swinging in toward his face.
Taking the second blow, this time to his cheek, Heisen found himself level with the sand once more. He groaned, pushing himself now as he grinded his face in the ground upon his slow, feeble attempt to get on all fours. He was rocked silly, and wasn't about to immediately get back up. Whoever this girl was, she was pretty damn impressive.