This is a story I wrote as the background info for my original character Asher. I made it for the avatar fandom olympics which are on right now. GO AVATAR PORTAL!!!
Disclaimer: The characters Asher and Rakif belong to Airwalker88 so BACK OFF!!!
Airwalker88: HEY! Be nice to the readers man. Geez.
The cry of the lonely
Asher was the last of the airbenders to be killed by the firenation over eighty years ago.
His father had been raised by the monks at the southern air temple. While watching him grow up his guardian realised he was never meant to live the life of a monk. So when it came time for him to take his vows, (with the helpful advice from his guardian) he instead left the temple and became a nomad. He met his wife (a non-bender) while in the northern earth kingdom. Upon hearing news of the firenation's attacks on the air temples both he and his wife raced back to his old home only to find the sacred earth desecrated by the blood of his old friends and mentors. Having mastered his element he had received the honorary blue tattoos. This made it difficult for him to remain un-noticed.
They lived in solitude high in the mountains of the northern earth kingdom until the birth of their son. When he was born he didn't cry like normal babies. Instead he laughed. His parents thought him to be blessed and that he was fortunate for having been born in such solitude and safety. So they named him Asher, meaning to be blessed and happy.
His parents discovered he was an airbender when he was only teo weeks old. He sneezed and shot right out of his mothers arms. Luckily his father had lightning quick reflexes and caught him before he hit the ground. Whenever a trip into the nearest village had to be made his father would put on a hooded cloak and wrapped bindings around his hands and arms. It not only concealed his arrows but also warred away anyone looking to spark up an insightful conversation. Asher was a very powerful bender for such a young age and often his parents would come inside to find doors and other objects blown down.
His parent's greatest fear became their son getting discovered by the firenation because of something as simple as a sneeze. Because of this, Asher's father became his sifu and started training him when he was only 4 years old. This led to Asher becoming an airbending master just after his thirteenth birthday, rivalling that of the last avatar who had mastered it only a year younger.
Asher wanted more than anything to receive his arrows. But neither of his parents wanted him to be marked so clearly as a target like his father was. However he persisted. He was proud to be an airbender and wanted to honour his (for all he knew) extinct heritage. So after a lot of debating his parents took him to the northern air temple. Luckily his father had the knowledge to perform such a delicate and painful procedure. In his last few years at the southern air temple he had assisted the older monks in performing the sacred ritual. The fact that he had never actually done it himself didn't deter Asher, nor did the pain he was about to go through. However this was not the most painful thing he had to endure. It wasn't even close.
When Asher was fifteen the village near his home was attacked by firenation soldiers while he and his parents were getting their monthly supplies. He had taken to wearing the same attire as his father to conceal his arrows, though only at the pleading request by his parents. He hated having to hide his heritage and honour like that. Asher had been picking up the supplies he needed to make a home for his pet tigerwolf pup Rafik when the attack started. The old man he was buying the supplies from lived about a ten minute walk away from the village. When Asher caught sight of the smoke rising above the tree tops he took off running. By the time he got back the entire village was ablaze. He could hear people screaming both from pain and for loved ones. He started to search frantically for his parents. He didn't need to search far.
The sight he was confronted with made him drop to his knees. His mother was lying face up on the ground, a lethal gash across hear abdomen. His father was only a few steps away. A small streak of pride coursed through Asher as he noticed the destructive path of what was no doubt a small but powerful tornado. He didn't know if his father had died defending his mother or if he had died avenging his mother. One thing was for certain. He had to get as far away from there as he could. After burying his parents under the big pine-oak tree in the forest near his house, he filled his pack with only what he needed, said one last goodbye to his parents and left with his pup Rafik in tow.
He never travelled on roads or paths and steered well clear of villages. After many months of drifting from one region to another he once again came across and all too familiar sight. There was very little left of the village, mostly rubble and ash. The surrounding forest hadn't fared to well either. The entire area was dead. This ignited a searing flame of revenge in his heart and he vowed to not only avenge his parents and his lost race, but also every other living thing that had been killed or left homeless by the merciless war.
For two years he ambushed firenation patrols, attacked their camps and did everything he could to make their goal for domination just a bit harder to reach. He attacked only at night using his airbending to move quickly and silently. He came to be known by all people as the cloaked spirit, thought by many to be just a myth until they themselves had an encounter.
He cursed himself everyday and every night for taking lives. He was disgusted with himself for defiling the beliefs and morals of his people. But he wouldn't stop. He couldn't. Revenge drove him, it's what kept him fighting.
One cold winter morning he was camping near a village in the southern earth kingdom. He had just returned from gathering breakfast with Rafik when he was alerted by the cries and screams of the villagers. When he reached the village he was overcome with a sudden sense of dejavu. Fire, smoke, people screaming, he was reliving the nightmare that had haunted him for over two years. The cry of a small girl brought him back to his senses and he darted into the fray. His hood had fallen back while he was running and when he came to a halt in front of a small group of firebenders they were shocked to say the least. Asher didn't give them any time to recover as he unleashed a barrage of air blasts at the soldiers knocking them back into the blazing houses behind them.
He fought along side a group of earthbenders as they tried in vain to defend their homes. However this time it wasn't just another firenation platoon of twenty or so men, it was an entire company. The fire lord wanted to use the town's coal mines to fuel his ships and he wanted to make sure they gained control of the area. They were outnumbered ten to one and their odds of winning were getting worse by the minute. Asher had been fighting one on one with the firenation commander who had been leading the attack. He had several burns on his arms and chest and a deep cut on his right leg but it didn't distract him at all from the fight. When the commander finally made a mistake Asher took his chance and with every ounce of strength he could muster, launched the firebender into a nearby wall with full force. The commander landed in a heap and lay motionless on the ground.
Unlike every other time he had killed, Asher didn't feel ashamed, nor did he feel the slightest bit of regret.
All his senses at that moment were overwhelmed by the searing pain coursing through his chest.
He looked down to find the source of the pain and saw the blood red sword protruding from his chest. The firenation soldier however didn't have long to enjoy his accomplishment. The last thing Asher saw as he dropped to his knees and slowly fell to his side was his companion and best friend lunge at his master's attacker. The soldier's screams went unheard by the airbender, as did the cries of victory that rang out shortly after when the firenation soldiers called retreat after the defeat of their commander.
The last known surviving airbender had been killed only three days before his eighteenth birthday. The villagers buried him along with the rest of the men who had fallen in the battle. His grave was marked simply 'Gandira' meaning hero.
For many years after people would tell tales about the unknown saviour of their village and how on every full moon they would hear the sorrowful howls of a tigerwolf calling for its master.
The cry of the lonely.
Authors note: I drew a pic of Asher, its on my dev art account. Heres the link. http // airwalker88 . deviantart . com / art / Asher - 75909156