Title: From the Ashes
Author: overlithe
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Summary: "To bend another's energy, your own spirit must be unbendable, or you will be corrupted." AU. Another way Aang's final confrontation with Ozai could have gone.
Characters/Pairings: Aang, Ozai; gen
Prompt: avatar_500 prompt 19. Light; fanfic100 prompt 035. Sixth Sense
Word Count: 490
Rating: K+
Warnings: There's nothing above a K+ rating, but I've tried to aim for Extreme Paranoia Fuel with this one.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and concepts created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, and owned by Nickelodeon and various other corporations/people. I'm not making any money and do not intend any copyright or trademark infringement.
From the Ashes
When the child calling himself the Avatar grabbed him and the world turned into blinding light, there were three things Ozai knew he had to hold on to.
First, that Zhao hadn't been the only one to pore over scrolls with characters blurred by dust, in places where the stars were strange.
Second, that to be one of the strong was to be unyielding; it was to be empty of doubt and regret, and full only of certainty, bright and burning like a fire blade.
Third, that seeing might be believing, but that was never the whole story; sometimes, believing was seeing.
His senses ripped. Everything turned inside out.
Only believe.
Only believe.
Only believe.
Only be—
(+)
The world slammed back. He nearly fell, then staggered to his feet, queasy. His flesh and skin felt like they had been ripped off and only incompetently patched back on.
He took a deep breath; the stench of fire dimmed a little, the aches in his body began to ebb. His hand ran over the faint stubble in his shaved head. When he tried to take a step, his foot slid over some crumbling stone, but he soon had his limbs under control.
He blinked, once, twice, then looked down.
It was strange to look at his body—well, at the body—from outside. It twitched a little on the ground and drooled into its beard. A flicker of horror darted into the eyes.
He leaned down.
'Thank you, child,' Ozai whispered into his enemy's ear.
His new voice sounded jarring, but he was sure he would soon grow used to it.
In a blink, Ozai reached into a vial he had kept in his clothes and forced its contents into his old body's mouth. The silly little airbender tried to struggle against his flesh prison, but the white liquid was already coursing through his veins; when the mouth opened again, only a wordless groan came out and sweat—cold, no doubt—trickled onto the lips.
He wouldn't be talking for a while, Ozai knew. If ever.
After all, as he had once told Ursa, the thing about sacrifice was that sometimes—sometimes it was more of a trade.
'You shouldn't doubt yourself,' Ozai said, and glanced at the burning forest. Trees burst in showers of sparks, rolling clouds of smoke. His new body was already settling into place, as though he had worn it all his life. He wondered if the Avatar Spirit was still bound to this flesh. Well, he would figure something out no matter what.
He always did.
A small flying animal darted between the rock pillars. Above him, one of the commandeered airships was approaching, glittering in the firelight like some strange jewelled beetle. I did something to him that means he can't threaten anyone ever again. Or "hurt"? Yes, maybe that was better.
'I never doubt myself,' he finished, and turned around to meet his new followers.
++The End++
Notes/Disclaimer: Inspiration for this ficlet, along with the lines "thank you, child" and the one about sacrifice, all came from the 2005 horror movie The Skeleton Key. Also, once again I do something horrible to poor Aang. Apparently, there's some kind of direct correlation between how much I like a character and how much I torment them in my stories… ;)