Time: 7:03 PM on the windy west coast.
Birthday. That's all I gotta say. 18 baby! :D
Well.... this one.... I don't know what to think about it. It's kinda sad, and kind of chilling for me. Oh! Just read it! ahhhhhhhhh!
Please let me know what you think. This is how I pictured the plot line, and now that I have finally written it, I hope it is good enough. Your thoughts are appreciated. Thanks. :)
Disclaimer: I definitely do NOT own Avatar: the last airbender. Meh
Hakoda groaned and wished he could roll over on his side for comfort. But with the wound being on the side he wanted to roll on, it made it virtually impossible.
He also knew it was morning, and that he needed to get up and get down to the ship the couple was planning on taking.
He rolled, carefully avoiding his sore spots, and sat on the edge of his bed. He was tired. He had barely gotten any sleep last night, his mind running over the things he had said to Kya. He winced and closed his eyes once again, regretting his harsh words.
He tied his hair back into its wolf tail, and wondered if he should grow his hair out anytime soon. Rubbing his jaw with his hand, he remembered that he now had facial hair. He sat there, rubbing it, his thoughts wandering momentarily.
Shaking his head, he forced himself to get moving and start the day.
Everything was easy to pack, and he left his sleeping bag there, since he had another one he had brought especially for the trip. He now was fully dressed, a double belt of a warrior that he had picked up a couple of years ago. He rarely ever wore it, because it was so precious that he didn't want it to break or get ruined. But now, he knew all of that was behind him. The belt wrapped around his hip area twice, in an "X", studded and two loops to attach his club and sword to.
He did this and snuffed out his fire. The room was dark, except for the small glow of light that always shone through the ice blocks half the house was made out of. He stood at the door now, and stared back at the small area.
The sadness he knew he would eventually feel had finally hit him. His eyes were tired as he looked around the room.
He smiled softly, as if wishing it goodbye, and telling it that he would be back some day before he died. With that, he nodded, and exited the house, tying the tent flap tight as could be, so that if no one came next time there was a storm, it would be safe.
The snow crunched under his fur boots, ones that were covered in fur from the leopardbear he had killed half a year ago. Something that always reminded Hakoda of his dad was going out and hunting for furs. One of the bonds he had had with him before he had died.
Hakoda's eyes were glued on the blank white snow underneath him, as he continued on.
His mind was blank and numb. When he first saw the grayish snow, it didn't register in his mind, until a few steps later.
He stopped and looked at the dyed snow. He turned his face up and looked at the snow ahead of him, the same grey color continuing. He turned and checked to see if the color really had changed, but there was a significant change in color from his footprints. He looked back ahead of him. Something's not right, he thought.
He continued walking. Soon, the snow started falling and Hakoda put his hood up over his ears. It fell thicker and heavier, and was now blowing in his face. He stopped and looked at the sky, a puzzled look on his face. There were clouds, but they weren't snow clouds. The ones in the sky were white as snow.
Hakoda held out his hand and let the flakes fall on his outstretched arm.
Black flakes stained his glove.
His heart stopped.
No.
He whipped his head back up towards camp.
It can't be!
Hakoda tightened his grip on his pack and ran as fast as his wound would allow him.
The ashes got thicker and thicker as he neared the village and came into the clearing. All of the training group of guys were already in battle with the fire nation soldiers. Shouts and the sound of swords hitting the soldiers metal armor filled the air. Hakoda was breathing in deep breaths trying to recover from the run down. His side was screaming at him to sit down, but he knew he couldn't.
He saw a few bodies littered on the ground, their life been taken to the spirit world by now. Hakoda's eyes grazed over the group as he saw another group of fire nation soldiers run off the boat, their entire arms engulfed in flames. He saw another group of water tribe members run at them at full force, meeting and maintaining contact, their shouts and yells echoing in the distance.
He saw a three run towards the village arch, and Hakoda ground his teeth moving his feet forward. Over my dead body, he growled to himself. He intersected the group of black and red men as he swung his pack off his shoulder and rammed it hard into one of the men. The man stumbled, failing to regain balance as Hakoda kicked the back of his knees out from under him, groaning.
Hakoda whipped his sword out from its hilt, just as the other soldiers heard the man go down. Their faces covered by pure white masks, it made it all the more easier for Hakoda to picture them as objects instead of humans.
The soldier took his stance and before he could even dare him on, Hakoda had swung his sword around, hitting the man directly in the side of the neck. If that part of his uniform wasn't red before, it sure was now, as the man grabbed the side of his neck and sank to his feet, trying to blast Hakoda with a stream of fire.
Hakoda dodged it, twisting a little and regretted it instantly, as his side winced and groaned in protest. Taking in a sharp breath, he didn't have time to see the man he had just hit die, and he instantly swung at the other one that had been in the group that was now right behind him. Hakoda felt his shoulder graze past the man and he jerked his elbow back into the man's stomach, making him double over. Hakoda whipped around and brought his knee up sharply into the soldier's masked face. The man screamed as the mask broke into shards and impaled his face. He grabbed Hakoda's legs, his grip tight with fury and hatred, as the heat in his hands set aflame, burning Hakoda.
Hakoda's eyes flashed, but he did not dare yell. Instead, he swung his sword at the source of pain and in one clean swipe, cut off the forearms of the fire nation soldier.
The man screamed in pain, and the grip fell limp on Hakoda's legs, the snow becoming stained in red, everywhere. But that hadn't changed the fact that Hakoda had huge burn marks on his calves, near his knee, that part of his pants now toasted and burned. He winced, but didn't have much time before he noticed the first man he had taken down was on his tail, his arms engulfed in flames.
The man punched his arm out, a burst of flame shot directly at Hakoda. Hakoda ducked, and fell on his side to the right. He fell on his arm and leg, a sharp groan ringing out of his mouth. He felt the stitches rip and he yelled in pain, the electric shock shooting straight to his heart. The solider kicked him in the stomach and with no more air in his lungs, Hakoda fell to the snow, his face becoming ice cold.
He felt the blood oozing from his wound and he grimaced as the man kicked him in the stomach once more, the kick racking through his body.
Hakoda's breathing was ragged, as he tried to catch his breath in between kicks from the man. His grip was weak on the sword handle, and he stared at it like he didn't know what it was.
The soldier finally stopped kicking and threw his hand into the air, fire building up and ready to spout out. Something clicked in Hakoda's brain, and everything became slow motion. Hakoda gripped the sword handle, and pushed up on his shoulder, throwing the sword like a spear. The sharp weapon sliced through the flames that were headed his direction and made contact with the object of evil behind the flames of combustion that had come from the soldier. Hakoda raised his arms over his face, feeling searing hot pain on the backs of his arms.
He heard a sickening fall, and uncovered his face, looking at his parka, scorched and black now. He frowned and his eyes flickered to the sight of the man that had fallen backwards, Hakoda's sword protruding from his rib cage. The man's mask had fallen off, revealing the face of a normal man, his auburn eyes wide, and face slick with sweat. He was breathing hard, trying desperately to grip the sword and pull it out of his chest with his weak hands.
His time followed sooner than expected and his body went slack, his eyes still open, having seen the horror of war.
Hakoda got up, holding his side. Once on his feet, he toppled, and tried to regain his balance. The pain in his wound was ready to make him sick with nausea. He swallowed the sight that he saw now across the white snow. There were very few spots now that were pure white. They were either grey or red splattered. Hakoda felt his stomach lurch, but sucked it up. He saw a fire nation man run towards him, shooting fireballs. Hakoda's eyes got wide and he plucked his sword from the dead man's chest that had died moments ago.
A fireball flew past him, ramming into the arch of the village, successfully creating a huge dent. The man was close enough now that he threw a punch out towards Hakoda. Hakoda ground his teeth, knowing this would kill him, and ducked under the man's arm, his feet light, and his sword swinging around, hitting the man in the waist, digging up underneath the armor. The man growled at him, and pulled a large knife out of his belt, and swung at Hakoda.
Hakoda backed up momentarily, but not quick enough. The man scraped his left arm, cutting through his parka and slicing deep into his bicep. Hakoda bit his tongue and swung the sword, glad that it was his left arm wounded and not his right.
The sword hit the man in the chest, digging into the armor. The man sputtered, and Hakoda pulled his sword out and aimed it right at the heart. Before the man could get his hands up, Hakoda had impaled him and was now running into the heat of the battle.
Hakoda cut down a good six more soldiers, ducking, yelling, killing and avoiding more pain if possible. Hakoda soon began to feel dizzy, and he looked down momentarily at the wound at his side. His whole side of his parka was now stained red with his blood. It was pouring out pretty good, and he set his jaw, trying to get a hold of the pain.
He looked around, seeing Bato fighting, and tons of others he had seen. He passed a body on the ground, and felt his throat constrict at the sight of Nakoh, Kya's father, lying face up, a gaping hole centered through his stomach. Hakoda swallowed again, trying to keep the bile down, and turned away, where he saw another man fighting and fall as the bender created a sword of fire, and sliced the man's head completely off.
Hakoda's stomach lurched, as he recognized the man as Caelan.
Hakoda let out a yell of anguish and ran at the man, despite the sharp electric pain shooting through his side, threatening to kill him any second.
You can't kill Caelan! He was going to be the next chief!
The man noticed him, and Hakoda saw the different uniform of the captain of the fire nation ship. Anger boiled up inside him, and he screamed his hate at the man.
A small smirk of a smile graced the man's lips. There was no blood on him, and he had the cockiness of a leopardbear. He sent a fire whip at Hakoda, slapping him across the face, cutting and burning his face. Hakoda's body was thrown in one direction as the man laughed and wrapped another whip around his wounded upper arm. Hakoda winced, and pulled away from the rope-like fire. He was so close to the man now, that he swung at his sword him.
The man merely side stepped it and Hakoda swung again, a common game of cat and mouse. The man kicked with grace and knocked the sword out of Hakoda's hand, making it skid across the pink snow. Hakod stared at it as if skipped and tripped over its self.
Granted, Hakoda was tired. Oh so tired, and his muscles were screaming at him, his dizziness wrapped around his head, making images blurry and spinning.
But he knew he couldn't give up. He would never let his tribe down. He would die by the hands of the fire nation before he would give up.
The man smiled evilly, the small goatee on his chin taunting Hakoda. He held out one of his palms, ready to shoot at him and kill him once and for all. Hakoda grabbed his other sword from his hilt, the smaller, lighter one, and pulled it upwards.
He felt the sword make contact with the fire nation captain's arm and cut clean through it. The man yelled in agony and stared down at where his hand had been a moment ago. His eyebrows furrowed together and he raised his other hand now, completely pissed.
Hakoda cleaned that one off as well. The captain's eyes stared at him in horror, knowing that he was beaten, and his hands the sacrifice.
Hakoda pointed the tip of his sword at the man's neck, digging in a little. A small line of blood trickled down the man's throat. The man's mouth was open, his voice lost.
"Leave now," Hakoda growled at him, his anger pushing the sword more and more into the throat of the man, "Or else your hands won't be the only thing that I cut off."
The captain stared at him, the agreement in his eyes. Hakoda pulled the sword away, and the man shouted the order of retreat. The fiery golden eyes of the captain looked at him once more, his handless arms tucked up tight to his chest. Hakoda held his eyes with the look of authority for the time the man stared at him, and finally the captain turned and ran back along with the other soldiers to their ship.