The Temple of the Avatar
Aang's legend was great. So great that the people of the Southern Water Tribe commisioned a great temple to be built at the place where the boy had been found. In the iceberg. Here, masters from all over the world came together, to train, to teach, and to enlighten. Over the course of over a century, the Avatars had come here to learn the four styles of bending. Here the current Avatar, Ko-rung, lived, meditating in the iceberg where his predecessor had spent a hundred years in slumber.
Colonel Zhen was not here to meditate. The temple, which was normally silent, was invaded by the sound of marching feet. Hundreds of them. With him was an entire battalion, the silent Sixth Elite Battalion. With them was an entire armoured battalion. They marched through the snow, their feet leaving a trench so deep they could have knelt down and slept comfortably in it, protected from the freezing winds and hostile environment that seemed to hate their very existence. Perhaps it did. Perhaps it knew why they were there.
At last, they approached the temple. The lieutenant produced a loudspeaker, but the Colonel waved him to put it down. He wanted this to be bloodless. He approached the gates and knocked three times. They opened slightly, just enough for a small man in the traditional garb of an Air Nomad to peek through, give the Colonel a pleasant smile, and invite him in. The courtyard of the temple was normally filled with young benders of all ages learning the ways of their ancestors, but now it was empty. The children, as well as the four Masters, simply stood there, as organized as an army and as silent as soldiers on a suicide mission.
The young airbender simply smiled pleasantly as if Zhen were any other guest. "We are pleased that the legendary Sixth Battalion would grace us with their presence. I understand that your unit is the first one to not have a single bender."
The lieutenant, oblivious to the atmosphere, bragged, "Why yes. You understand, with the current political climate, it's important that the non-benders of the world know that the military still encourages their service, and that even non-benders can still serve the United Republic. We even have access to the latest in weapons technology from Future Industries and Cabbage Corporation. Automatic rifles, hand grenades, machine guns, explosives, even these new things called Ground Thumpers that can neutralize the Earthbenders' Seismic Sense. It's all quite amazing, really, I feel sorry for anyone in our way, bender or not-"
"Lieutenant," snapped the Colonel, "Wait outside."
After the lieutenant timidly left the temple, the young Airbender brought Zhen to the Central Chamber, before leaving him to his discussion with the Avatar. The only light came in through the empty hole where the ceiling should have been. Inside was Avatar Ko-rung, meditating inside the iceberg, which captured and reflected the light so it appeared to glow. Zhen sat down in front of him, cross-legged like him.
They sat there in silence for what seemed like an eon, both dreading what would happen when it ended. Finally, the Avatar said, in the quiet, raspy voice of a man facing death but too tired to fear it, "So how does this end?"
"Hopefully," replied the Colonel, "peacefully."
"Did you expect peace?" the Avatar opened his eyes as he said this, looking at Zhen with a sort of quiet indignity. "You bring weapons and warriors to this sacred place, and you expect things to end peacefully?"
Zhen took a second to look at the old man. "I don't expect peace. But I don't expect that you'll just hand it over quietly. Which means there's only one thing left to expect."
They both stayed quiet for a moment, letting the reality of their situation sink in, both of them feeling heavier, older, because of it.
Zhen said, "I just wish it wasn't like that."
"You could just refuse."
"I have my orders. You could let us have it."
"I have my duty."
Order and Duty. The words seem to beat themselves into them, like the lashing of a whip.
"This isn't the job of the Avatar," said Zhen.
"Of course it is! It's my job to save the world!" replied Ko-rung.
"From invading nations and equalist terrorists, not energy crises!" the Colonel seemed to be pleading with him. "That's what technology is for!"
"It's a bomb, Zhen!" the old man was pleading now to, "A weapon for destruction and death. Sozin's Comet in the hands of mortal men!"
"But the technology behind it could prevent a war! The Fire Nation is already massing their forces, preparing to seize the Earth Kingdom's oil reserves!"
"THAN I'LL STOP THEM!"
"AND WHAT ABOUT THE NEXT CRISIS!"
They had both stood up without even realizing it. The Avatar remarked, quietly, "Just a few reincarnations ago, the world wanted a hero. Now they want a machine."
Neither could tell who made the first move. Zhen was younger and faster, quickly pulling out his pistol and a flare gun. Ko-rung struck the Colonel on the wrist, forcing the pistol to clamber to the ground. But that wasn't the point. The flare shot skyward, as the command to attack was given. The tanks easily blasted through the gate, as the soldiers rushed into the courtyard. The students and the four Masters burst out of the temple, rushing to protect the Avatar. Rifle fire erupted as several of the younger students, some no older than toddlers, were instantly cut down before they had a chance to fight back. The four Masters, as well as many of the older students, quickly put up walls of whatever element they could, or hid behind the walls of their fellow disciples. On the walls of the temple, waterbenders shot spears of ice to impale their enemies and firebenders immolated them from above. Many of the soldiers who were caught out in the open were killed, while the others found cover behind the tanks. A few Earthbenders tried to flip the tanks, but as soon as they stopped holding the earthen walls up they, and any other students who needed those walls, were torn to shreds by high caliber machine guns. Eventually, one of the waterbenders on the wall noticed a small crunch sound. She turned around and saw several grappling hooks being thrown over the side.
"Look o-"
The word died in her mouth, as a bullet ripped through her throat. As she bled out, the other benders on the wall turned to deal with the new threat. They didn't hear the "thump" of the grenade launchers. They probably didn't hear the explosion as the shrapnel shot into their vital organs. Within a few seconds the soldiers had scaled the walls of the temple and were raining bullets onto the remaining defenders. Slowly, Zhen's troops were gaining the upper hand.
In the iceberg, the battle between the Colonel and the Avatar was no less ferocious. The Colonel was stronger and faster than his opponent, but Ko-rung had far more experiance. The savage energy of youth clashed with the wisdom of age as the two fought, exchanging lethal blow for lethal blow, but none of them hit their mark. Zhen fought aggressively, he had to, he couldn't afford to let the old man have a chance to use his bending. Zhen knew, however, that the Avatar was holding back. He could easily end this battle by switching to his Avatar state, but he was holding onto some faint and increasingly far-fetched hope that this could still be resolved peacefully. If Zhen wanted to win, he had to surprise him. He allowed himself a brief respite to his attack. The Avatar, out of sheer instinct, attacked, and Zhen jumped backwards, finally allowing for some space between the two. Ko-rung simply thought this was a mistake, so he tried to take advantage of this, repositioning his body to summon the ice to restrain him. Zhen pulled out his knife and, seeing the brief moment of confusion as the old man tried to readjust his stance, threw it as hard and fast as he could. The blade zipped past the Avatar's hands and past his ribcage, burying its tip inside his heart. The Avatar looked at the blade, looked at Zhen, knelt down, and closed his eyes.
Seeing the soldiers on the wall, the Firebending Master pointed his fingers at them and unleashed a sword of lightning, cutting them all down at once. The Airbender summoned mighty gusts and tornadoes which threw the enemy away like ragdolls. The Waterbending Master shaped ice into spears capable of piercing the armor of the tanks, skewering the crewmen inside, while the Earthbender maintained his massive wall, trying to keep what remained of the temple's defenders alive. He also tried, fruitlessly, to bend the bullets in order to stop them. They were simply traveling too fast, and he couldn't afford to take too much of his concentration off his defensive wall. He shouted at the other masters. They paled at what they knew he wanted to do. But they reluctantly agreed. The Waterbending Master summoned a wall of ice to defend them, while the Earthbending Master summoned a massive boulder and then crushed it until all that was left a a massive cloud of sand. The Firebending Master heated the cloud, turning it into a million shards of glass. The Airbender than took the shards and collected them into a huge tornado, which he flung across the battlefield. Soldiers cried out in mortal agony as the glass whipped around them at high speed, shredding meat from bone in a matter of seconds. They had only a few seconds of pain, until all that was left was a skeleton covered in blood and the barest traces of flesh. The tornado became red and deadlier, as the bone fragments added to the glass. The slaughter was so horrific, that all four Masters turned away. In a few seconds, the courtyard was clear of soldiers, all that was left was their blood splattered on holy ground. The Airbender turned to vomit, followed by the rest of them. They don't notice the grenade which slowly rolled to a stop besides all four of them.
It was quiet. Zhen figured that the defenders must have surrendered by now. He leaned over to remove his knife, not because he wanted it anymore, but because it didn't look right sticking out of the Avatar's chest. His hand hadn't touched the hilt when it suddenly slid out of the old man's body on it's own. He saw the old man's wounds heal, his eyes open, then glow blue. He felt himself levitated in the air, every molecule of water in his body unable to move. He looked at the man he had once called hero, and whispered through petrified teeth, "Bloodbending?"
Ko-rung eyes are no longer his own. They are the eyes of countless Avatars, all looking down on this mortal who tried to slay a god. "The Avatar must do what is needed to defeat evil."
Zhen looked into the Avatar's eyes. "His duty".
The wind rose with him, as he prepared to deliver his final Judgement. "Colonel Zhen. You have brought war to these hallowed grounds," the Avatar's voice was hollow, the voice of all his previous incarnations. "You have stained this sacred ground with blood, and your mission places the entire world in a state of peril never before seen by its inhabitants. For this I sentence you-"
He stopped mid-sentence. Zhen fell to the ground, his body once more his own, and at first thought that Ko-rung has changed his mind. Than his head rolled over, and Zhen sees the bullet hole in it's side. He turned in time to see one of his men on the wall, the muzzle of his gun still smoking, finally succumb to electrocution. He turned back and saw the blue glow of the Avatar State die.
"NO!"
Of the entire Sixth Battalion, only Colonel Zhen walked out of that temple. Once the reinforcements arrived, they searched the entire place. The soldiers presented it to the Colonel, who opened the scroll and inspected it with a sense of dread, almost hoping that this had all been for nothing. Feeling empty inside, he nodded and confirmed that these were the blueprints they were after. He thanked the private who found it before rolling it up, afraid to expose the world to it for too long. The private asked what it is, his voice too full of curiosity to be ignored. Zhen looks at him and says, "It's a bomb."
The private was confused. "Is that it?"
The Colonel looked at the body. They hadn't figured out what to do with it yet.
"It's supposed to split the atom."
.
.
.
Author's Retrospective Review
Man, does this bring back memories. I remember writing this just after discovering the wonder that is Avatar: the Last Airbender, the original series. It had just been released on Netflix, and its simple yet masterful weaving of fun, character, a powerful over-arching plot, beautiful animation and visuals, and utterly fascinating blend of Eastern philosophy and martial arts with a fresh, modern, Western perspective was entirely enrapturing . This was before Avatar: the Legend of Korra was released, so I figured, being a dumb high school kid with a disturbing predilection for all things violent, what would happen to the Avatar universe if enough time were to pass that all the familiar things of the franchise, the bending arts and the spirituality behind them, were to be confronted by things like automatic weapons, nation-states, mass media, and all the other things that would become the hallmark of the 21st century? What place would the Avatar have in a world where even the most boorish had access to technologies and abilities that made his or hers seem like mere child's play in the grand scheme of things? I could, at this very moment, produce from my pocket a device that allows me to speak in real time to someone on the other side of the world. Could the Avatar do that? What good is a 'savior of the world', if the very world they're supposed to save has grown so much as to have surpassed them? What's the point of a hero if there's no one to save? At least, that's what the story should've been about.
Instead, being a dumb high school kid, I chose to place my focus on perhaps the most obvious and the most banal place to put it. How would a bender fight a machine gun? Now, there's nothing wrong with that question. In many ways, it's perhaps the most succinctly elegant way to phrase that whole mess I went over just a few sentences ago. But looking back on it I can't help but realize that that predisposition towards the most immediately and viscerally satisfying facets of the basic question of 'old vs new' may have ultimately hampered the story. While the combat sequences feel engaging, and the dramatic focus on the effects, rather than the causes of each occurrence in the battle does seem to emphasize the horrors of war and the terrible inhumanity of a battle in which one never even has to see the enemy face-to-face in order to engage and eliminate them, the build-up feels rather sluggish. There's very little dramatic tension leading up to the battle, and that inherently lessens the impact. Rather than feeling like a whole, cohesive story, it feels more like a firecracker. It was bright, it was flashy, it was garish, but ultimately it didn't leave as much of an impact as it could've.
Now that being said, there are some parts outside of the combat that I did find enjoyable. Despite Colonel Zhen and Avatar Ko-Rung (a lame name, I know, but I thought it up on the spot, give me a break) having only a handful of lines to themselves, I feel like the dialogue between them was able to capture the nature of their cordial, but necessarily adversarial relationship. Old vs Young, East vs West, Traditionalism vs Modernism, all that fun stuff.
The end is probably the bit where I'm the most divided. No other part demonstrates both the piece's flaws and its strengths. There are certainly some lines I find worthwhile. "They hadn't figured out what to do with it [the body] yet," I think encapsulates well the insecurity and the indecisiveness of Colonel Zhen and his entire generation as they have to figure out where they're going to go from here, now that they've, metaphorically speaking, killed the past. I also like how the end implies that all this was a fight for nuclear technology, the death of the Avatar and the disruption of the balance between man, nature, and spirit paving the way for the Atomic Age. One could argue that the whole thing was a metaphor for WWII, specifically the Pacific Theatre, the defeat of the Benders wielding supernatural forces at the hands of the Sixth Battalion who wielded advanced technology paralleling the defeat of the fervently pious Japanese Empire at the hands of the rationalist Americans, with the end heralding the introduction of the world to nuclear power. That being said, the flaws in the piece's ending are as glaring as they are grievous. The switching from past-tense to present-tense, which I suspect was an attempt by adolescent me to signal to the reader that this was an important bit, feels about as natural as Donald Trump's toupee. It just comes off as pretentious and unwanted. A better writer would've simply let the story itself lend the theme its power, rather than try to forcefully inject a specific part of the piece with importance, like Nikki Minaj's butt implants.
It's got some good ideas, but, as is so often the case, it's the execution that's lacking. I suppose I could say that I simply "tried too hard," but I personally hate that phrase, and I think such a term is inaccurate. I think when writing stories it's harder to keep your hands off than it is to put your hands in, if that makes any sense at all. I think a more accurate description would be to say I accidentally suffocated the story with my own interventionism.
Oh well. Live and learn, I suppose.