This is a work in progress. Please understand that right now I know so comparatively little about the fandom and story, that any pointers or constructive criticism would be tremendously appreciated. Much thanks to any and all who take the time to read this little plot bunny that wouldn't let me go, and have a nice day! P.S, suggestions as to possible titles/the path this story should take would be much appreciated. Luka, by the way, goes by another name in the Avatar fandom. They call him Prince Zuko. Imeri and Keeya--and the dog breed known as a bearhound--are of my own invention. Oh, and also the formatting might seem a bit wonky; that's because I had originally posted this on some minor virtual pet site, just to gauge how it might be received.
Prologue
To his credit, the Fire Prince could not have been said to have screamed as he fell. For one, it was entirely unbecoming to one such as he, and for another, there was barely time to voice the startled yelp that did manage to escape him, before the scree below rushed up to meet him and stole away his breath. He landed hard, and rolled once, coming to rest curled on his side. He was panting, the world reeling and painted crimson.
'Ahah,' he thought, feeling that he had reached some great truth, 'red.'
The last he heard, before the cloying shadows moved in, was the hum of frightened voices high above and the clatter of someone approaching. He struggled to lift his head up, to greet this unseen interloper with the imperious attitude fitting one of his station. He couldn't. They, watching from the shadows at the edge of the forest, knew as much, and smiled wickedly. Hungry fire gold eyes watched the inert form as they moved closer.
It was not until they were upon him, touching him, shaking him, that he cried out.
"OOkkkah..."
"OOOkahhh.."
"--Ukahh!"
"Luka!"
He snapped awake, gasping, looking around for a moment with wild terrified eyes. Gleaming gold met his own glassy amber gaze, and once his racing heart slowed down he found himself looking into the calm and loving eyes of Keeya the bearhound. It had been her soft nudging that had jostled him awake, her soft eyes that had been the wolves' in his delirium. Ah, but if she'd had to shake him, he must be late again. Biting back a curse at himself for failing to get up on time Luka shook aside the mental cobwebs and reached out to stroke the dog before throwing back the blanket and rising from his pallet. Ah, Mother had moved his bed close to the fire again--he must've had another attack last night. He could only vaguely recall it--the omnipresent ringing in his ears becoming steadily more insistent, finally crescendo-ing into waves of unbearable pain that had felled him for the night. Thus always began his slowtimes, as he called them, indeterminate spaces of time in which everything was hazy, syrupy and slow. Perhaps he slept, or perhaps it was something like sleep that haunted him with tantalizing scraps of half-recalled dreams. Images would come to him, of things and places he had never in life seen before but that he could almost name, and of people who spoke to him in voices at once alien and unsettlingly familiar. It was both maddening and intriguing.
Luka shook his dark head. No time for idle mooncalfing; he was already late and he could hear Mother calling from the front room. He quickly retrieved the comb from its place on the black-lacquered table and ran it through his short dark mane. Rinsing it in the bowl of water mother kept on the hearth to put the fire out with, he replaced the tool, called Keeya to his side and went to greet his mother.
Imeri looked up from her loom to smile at beast and boy as they entered, the former grinning with canine good spirits and the latter looking sheepish and mildly distressed.
"Ah, there you are! I wondered what was keeping you. Keeya finally got you up, I take it?"
"I'm sorry, mother. I just...I had that dream again..."
The woman looked troubled, seeing his eyes cloud over at the recollection.
"The forest?"
"Yes. There's...there's something so...so REAL about it, so compelling. I just know that there's a place like that out there, somewhere. It...it frightens me a little."
Imeri set aside her shuttle and wordlessly got to her feet to go and embrace her son.
"Shhhh...my boy. it's all right. You know I'd never let anyone harm you, you know that. Put it out of your mind."
He nodded wordlessly against her shoulder, and with a final squeeze she released him.
"so, how about heading to the market for me today? I finished that last carpet of this new set last night, and they want selling."
Instantly Luka's face was alight, trouble forgotten. He loved taking Keeya in the cart and going to town. The market was a lively and noisy place, full of exotic and interesting travelers and strange spicy or acrid smells, the yammer of voices and jingling of coins. So exciting! So alive!
So very oddly familiar.
Imeri smiled at the eagerness in his face.
"I thought you'd like that idea. Here, put on your patch before you go; don't forget that."
Luka's grin instantly became a scowl of irritation. He hated wearing that stupid patch! The rough cloth was itchy, and since the thing covered one eye it was hard to see while wearing it. But it was a necessary evil, his mother insisted; the last thing she wanted was cruel stares and laughter at the reminder of her dear boy's horrid accident. As a baby, she had told him, she had left him unattended for half an instant to let Keeya back inside--how pitifully she had scratched at the door!--and in that instant he had got hold of the lamp and hauled it over on himself. The oil had spilled out and splashed his face, scalding him awfully and leaving an ugly scar behind. Now the right side of his face--particularly the area around his eye--was a leathery dark brown color, and rough like lizard skin. Very unsightly. Just once, Luka thought he might like to just let people stare as they would, but as always he just sighed and nodded meekly.
"Yes Mother."
Disguise in place, and a small bag of coins tied to his belt, Luka took Keeya and went out to hitch up the oxcart.
