Story takes place between the start of Legend of Korra and the end of Tarrlok's story about the origins of Amon. Will be multi-chapter.

Noatak's figure was beginning to meld with the rapid swirl of violent snowfall as he ran. A tiny voice, ragged with grief and desperation, screamed out behind him.

"Noatak! Come back!"

The words make him want to turn back, to grab his little brother's hand and assure him that where they would be going together would bring a new life, better than the one they were burdened with. Wherever that was. But Noatak did not stop.

"Please!" begged that pathetic voice.

With a huff Noatak began to run even faster. The snow was thick and blinding, but Noatak's eyes, in actuality, had at last been opened. Opened to the truth of the true evil of bending.

Perhaps his brother had been right about the agony of being Bloodbent upon; he would never know. His father's bitter anger had become Noatak's burden, like a slave tasked with executing every wish of a cruel master.

Not anymore.

"NOATAK!"

Bleary eyed and tousle haired, Noatak ignored the sound of his name as it escaped from Tarrlok's lips one last time. The noise carried out briefly before being swallowed by the screaming wind.

It would be twenty-six years before it was ever said again.

Three long days rolled on, filled with nighttime travel so as not to be detected by anyone. Noatak slept in self-prepared snowcaves, often forced to Bloodbend on his own hands to warm them. He had a goal, however; he needed to leave the Northern Tribe and start a new life. He couldn't bear, especially after his flee from home, to be faced by his father again. It would be humiliating; failed rebellion was the most shameful of defeats.

But his father wouldn't look for him for too long, and certainly wouldn't be willing to search the globe for him. He was graying fast, after all, and as for his dream of revenge, he still had Tarrlok. There was no place in the Northern Tribe for Noatak anymore.

And so on the third night he left it for good.

A canoe abandoned on the docks was his getaway; Noatak lay in his meager vessel's bottom beneath the two small wooden seats, totally undetected. He looked to all to be a canoe whose owner had been too careless so as to properly tie his boat to the docks.

It didn't matter to Noatak where the canoe took him, so long as it wasn't home. He kept on the down-low, occasionally using Bloodbending to capture a fish to eat. As he lay on the rough boat bottom, Noatak was granted plenty of long hours to think.

As much as he despised his father, Noatak couldn't help but pity the man. After all, his father was so emotionally depraved without his bending, so wrecked, so ruined, that it had warped him into a corrupt revenge machine. Yakone had become so hungry for vengeance that he had gone mad, like a starving, tied-up polar bear-dog. And then a thought occurred to Noatak.

If his father had never been a bender at all, would he have been nurturing and loving to Noatak and his brother, like their mother had been? It certainly seemed logical. Bending was the root of his father's evil.

Come to think of it, it translated to other issues too, past and present. If not for bending, would the Hundred-Year War have occurred at all? The Fire Nation had, after all, been determined to share their "greatness" with the entire world. They'd destroyed an entire nation of innocent benders, and to this day only two of these benders were alive; Avatar Aang and his son.

Without bending there wouldn't be nations at all; the entire world's people would be equal and therefore they could exist together. There would be no need for an Avatar to make the rest of the world feel inferior. There would be no Avatar, because all of the world would be in balance anyway. The entire world's people could be united under one leader who would keep things equal.

Noatak sighed heavily. If only.

He bent a fish out of the water, and a second later he felt sickened with himself. His vision for the world needed to be honored if it was ever to come true, and he supposed it would need to begin with him.

It took Noatak a week, but he eventually landed on the northern shores of the Earth Kingdom. However, traveling by foot would simply not do. It would take him far too long to get from place to place. He had exactly 78 yuans in the pockets of his parka, an allowance he had earned from his mother over the years. With this money he traveled to a breeder who was selling ostrich-horses.

The breeder introduced him to two young adult ostrich-horses, pre-trained and ready to be ridden by a new master.

"What're their names?" Noatak asked the man.

"The girl here, her name is Maiba. And the boy is Amon."

"Amon, huh?" Noatak asked, intrigued. "That's an unusual name."

The breeder chuckled. "Thank you, young man. This young fellow was the runt of his litter, but he grew stronger, and he was always fighting to be treated fairly. So we gave him a name that means equal-Amon."

Noatak smiled faintly. "I like that."

He rode each ostrich-horse before finally choosing Maiba. Her temperament was much more kind and reliable than Amon's, and she seemed to like him more.

Only one problem remained; Noatak was very obviously Water Tribe, with his blue parka and seal-skin boots. With all his remaining money, Noatak purchased a traditional Earth Kingdom boy's outfit.

The tailor glanced up at him. "Thank you for your purchase, sir. We traditionally sew the name of the outfit's owner onto the inside, in case it is ever lost. Would you mind telling us your name?"

Noatak paused. Even though this man could tell he was Water Tribe, he would need an identity that hid his true origins along with his clothes. An identity that truly defined him and what he wanted in life.

"Amon."