Standard Disclaimer: Nickelodeon's Avatar: The Last Airbender is the sole property of… someone who isn't me. My money's on Nickelodeon. I am using the characters, places, and world physics purely recreationally, and I can quit whenever I want. Really, I can. Sorry I made the main character so uber, I'll tone him down in future chapters.
"Makka! Get upstairs and clean the rooms. I don't pay you to mingle with the guests."
Rolling her eyes, Makka tried to keep some semblance of grace as she smiled an apology at the soldier, and got to her feet. "You'll pardon me, I hope. Duty beckons. I'll return when I can."
The young man smiled shyly, looking back down at his stew. "And I'll look forward to it."
As the girl did her best impersonation of a saunter up the stairs, the door slammed open, revealing the evening mist and the loud, boisterous trio of Earth Kingdom soldiers as they stumbled in. "Pato, why didn't you come out with us? We've only got a few days left on leave." They each collapsed on benches at the youth's table.
"I'm tired. I just want one quiet night in a warm bed where I don't drink myself silly the night before, and I don't have to wake up at the crack of dawn. Go have your fun, boys." He smiled, not unkindly, at his rowdy friends. The public room of the inn was fairly empty, but what few patrons there were couldn't appreciate the intrusion. An old woman sitting by the fire looked over and smiled, but the couple sitting by the window trying to have an intimate dinner were less pleased. The man at the other end of this same table was merely ignoring everything, patiently eating his noodles.
"We're not leaving without you, Pato, even if we have to carry you out the door. You're gonna enjoy this leave."
The sober youth sighed. Whatever it took to calm down his friends, even if it meant missing the chance at an evening with Makka. Still, he could probably slip away and make it back before her shift ended. "Fine, just let me finish the stew." He went to task with his spoon, shoveling the broth and meat into his mouth.
After a victory cheer, the other soldiers seemed to grow bored. Looking for sport, one turned and walked down the table, to its other occupant. "And you, friend? Come, join the mighty Earth Army for a night on the town!"
The stranger finally took notice, swiveling his one-eyed gaze up at the intruding man. A black patch covered his left eye, but the gray right eye held him in a blank stare for a few seconds, until the soldier started feeling uncomfortable.
"No thank you. I must be on my way shortly." As he turned back to his soup, he pulled the neck of his robe closer to ward off the chill creeping through the open door. The inebriated soldier noticed the callous hands, the thick wrists, the unadorned leather cuff.
"You're a fighter, then? Gonna join up with the Earth Army and fight the Fire Nation back?"
This brought half a smile to the man's face. "Armies are not for me. I do what I can to help the war effort, but joining up is an ineffective use of my talents."
Injured pride, unrestrained by inhibitions, filled the soldier's face. "The Army is ineffective? We've held off the Fire Nation for a hundred years, and we will win the war. Without whatever help you claim to offer." He sneered at the seated man, then made a grab for his mug. "Let's see what this one man army drinks… water! Not even man enough to hold down liquor? Look at this guy, boys." He turned to laugh with his friends.
"Guys, I finished my stew. Let's just go, okay? The alehouses will close soon, leave the man alone." Only Pato noticed the man slowly slide his hand, palm down, across the table. Ball it into a fist, twist the fist palm up.
By now the aggravator turned back to his prey. "…What are you do-GAH!" The man flung open his hand, and the water in the cup burst out, soaking the boy's face. He stood there a moment sputtering as the man dropped a few coins on the table and turned to leave.
"A waterbender, eh? Get back here, you sneaky coward!" He grabbed the man's shoulder and pulled him around, fist swung out to connect with his face. At least, that was the plan, before the man swept his arm up, brushing the fist aside at the wrist, then twisting his forearm to grab the soldier's elbow and pull, keeping the momentum of the swing going. A simple kick and the soldier was sprawled across the floor. He jumped up in a fighting pose, only to see the stranger step out through the door into the mist.
"Classic waterbender tactics, using an opponents force against him."
"Shut up, Pato. He's not going to catch me the same way twice."
Wiping dust left unnoticed til now under a table off his face, he staggered out into the night, glancing left and right until he saw the departing stranger's back less than half a block away. He charged, then stopped, dropping into a fighting crouch. With a grunt, he slammed his foot into the ground, calling up a ball of stone to hurl at his opponent.
At the stamp, the man spun, flinging out an arm. Something like a short stick flew from his grasp, smacking into the rock before the Earthbender had a chance to complete the standard attack. Rocked off balance, the stone moved backwards and crashed into its summoner, crumbling over him and sending him sprawling to the ground, down for the count. By now the commotion had drawn out Pato and his two remaining friends; even Makka came downstairs to see what the commotion was, ignoring the landlady's complaints. They watched him walk to the fallen boy and retrieve his stick from the ground. With a snap of his wrist, he revealed it to be a fan as he opened it, the webbing lustrous in the pale light coming from the few lit windows on the street.
Pato caught his breath. "War fans of the water tribes. I saw a demonstration once when I visited the island of Kyoshi as a child." He cleared his throat and spoke louder to address the stranger. "I apologize for my friend's rude behavior, and I hope it doesn't reflect on all the – Moji!"
The two other soldiers had stepped forward, belligerent and drunk, in battle stance. The one Pato was chastising had just lunged and stamped the ground. A ripple flew in a straight line towards the stranger, the ground hulking in its wake, as a spear of stone thrust itself at the man's face. Snapping his fan closed and falling backwards out of the way, he caught the tip of it in his hand, swinging up a foot as he fell to break it at the base. He turned his fall into a backwards roll, and came up flinging the spear at the last remaining soldier.
With a grunt and a fist slammed into the air, the target reduced the spear to sand which clouded for a moment in the cold night air, before being split by a flung fan which caught the surprised boy full in the face. The waterbender came leaping out of the mist and grabbed his fan back in mid-air, opening it as he spun and slashed at the boy's throat.
The Earth soldier felt no pain, but his helmet slid off his head as the slit chinstrap slipped past his ears. Frozen in panic and terror for a moment, and still halfway convinced his throat had been cut, he made no move to block as his opponents leg swept in a circle to connect with his jaw, dropping him.
The two remaining combatants faced each other now. Moji, in his green armor, anger and a little fear burning away the alcohol in his blood and the fuzz across his brain. And the stranger, still looking bored. His light outer robe had fallen open at the front, revealing a leather vest and baggy pants held up by a blue sash at the waist. A second fan was tucked into the sash. On his feet, a pair of simple, worn, but clean sandals.
For a moment, all was quiet. Pato gave a thought to trying once again to defuse the situation, but decided instead to retreat and afford Makka what protection he could in case the fight got out of hand. The only sound for long seconds was the quick breathing of Moji.
"What is your name, waterbender?" No response. "I asked you your name!"
The stranger smiled, as though at a private joke. "Tarno."
Somehow insulted by this, though he himself later couldn't say why, Moji made the first move. He stamped a stone out of the ground, and sent it flying at Tarno. Easily ducking under it, Tarno waved his hands in a quick, complicated pattern. The mist around Moji coalesced on his arms, freezing solid. The extra weight pulled him to the ground, and binding his hands effectively stopped him from being able to fight.
Threat gone, the stranger slipped into a more relaxed pose, running a hand through his shaggy, dark hair and stepping over to one of the felled boys. He pulled a few small coins out of his purse, dropping them in the helmet. "To fix the chinstrap," he explained. "I was being flashy; I'm sorry. I tend to grandstand."
Makka stepped forward. "You are truly a great fighter to have beaten such odds."
Tarno barked a laugh. "A waterbender, in mist, taking on three drunken children, one at a time? The standards of 'great' have lowered since last I checked." But the smile in his gray eye took the sting out of his rebuke.
Pato stepped up next to Makka. "You fought with honor, when my friends lacked theirs. You failed to be cruel to them when no one would have blamed you for it. Again, I apologize for their behavior."
"No apology is necessary. I, too, have been drunk and young before. It's just a part of OOF!" This last as Moji, though unable to move his arms, had kicked at the ground and sent a column of earth into the victor's face. The eyepatch flew off, landing in the mud nearby, as Tarno staggered back, dazed by the blow.
"Moji! If you can do nothing else tonight with the honor becoming a warrior, at least lose gracefully." Pato stalked to his laughing friend and kicked him hard in the side, but Moji just kept chortling.
"Pa… Pato!" Makka was staring wide-eyed at the waterbender, hand to her mouth, backing away quickly.
"What's the matter? What happened?" The youth rushed to her side.
"His… his eyes!"
"Huh?" Pato looked up at where Tarno staggered still, blinking both eyes, trying to focus them. Realization of what he was seeing dawned, despite the low light, and he dropped into a fighting stance. "Get back inside. I'll hold him off as long as I can."
As Makka fled, Tarno seemed to recover his wits. He stood up straight, puzzled for a moment at Pato's sudden aggression. Then his left hand reached up to his newly exposed eye and realized he was missing the patch. "Oh, nuggets."
"And his eyes themselves failed to agree, an outer sign of the inner flaw," Pato intoned from memory.
"Yes, I always thought that was an overly dramatic way to refer to mismatched eyes." His blue orb on the left and gray on the right both rolled together. His hands raised. "You caught me. You know what I am."
"A Flawed Avatar."
"I prefer the term Blender myself. Tacky, I know, but far less… well, evil than Flawed Avatar."
Pato stamped, calling up a chunk of stone, then slammed his fist, sending it flying at the demon before him. Instead of dodging it, or figuring out a way to send it flying back as Pato had assumed he'd somehow do, the Flawed Avatar merely blocked it with an arm. It crumbled into him, sending him flying backwards covered in rubble. Standing up and trying to shake off the attack, Tarno dropped into a crouch, beginning the forms of a waterbending technique. Unsure what to expect, Pato braced for some sort of impact. But all that happened was the mist closed about tighter, thicker, obscuring the stranger from sight. The voice that wafted out seemed to come from nowhere, from everywhere.
"We aren't all that bad, you know."
And then, as the lone defender stood guarding the world from a monster, and the mist swirled and curled around buildings and his recumbent friends, the only sound in the night was footsteps fading into the distance.
A/N: What is a Flawed Avatar? Why are they feared? Where is he going? What does he intend? Maybe if I feel like it I'll write another chapter, and you can find out.