Yes, another Fic about a person being reborn into another world fic. If this doesn't interest you, your welcome to move on. My OC is not a self insert and will not be a Gary Stu, or at least I'll try not make him be one. If he seems on the verge of it, I ask that you let me know immediately. He will have some advantage though, being a person with a well developed mind as a child.
There really isn't a lot of Male OC's on this series is there? If you know any good ones, please let me know. This story will mainly be a Male OC tries to redeem/save Azula Fic, mostly by affecting the childhood time before joining the Gaang later on.
Your review are always appreciated. Thanks for reading.
Fire. Everyone has their different vewpoints on it. On what it is and what it means to them.
Fire is a blazing inferno that consumes all. Fire is rage uninhibited. Fire is pure power meant to be harnased.
But for me...Fire is tranquil enegy meant to be used, but not to destroy, but to help.
Yes fire can be pain, yes fire can cosume all in its destruction, but used correctly, it can be used to help all of mankind. It's why the first people who discovered it were enamored by its potential. In Greek mythology after humans were given fire, they advanced.
Fire must be harnessed to help, not destroy.
That is my philosphy on fire. How I view it. Many willl disagree with me. Many will argue with me. But you know what?
My fire burned the brightest when there was something I had to protect.
My first memory of this world was of awakening to my five senses. Sight; Dim colors of red and orange hazing together, like I had taken some kind of illegal subtance an was now suffering the consequences. It took a few seconds to realize that my eyes were closed and, though try as I might, I couldn't for the life of me open them. It was as if they were glued shut. Next came smell. The distinc odor of metallic rust mixed together with something else I couldn't distinguish. Either way, the smell sorrounded me assualting my nose, making me nasaeus.
My sense of hearing was next. In an instant I wanted to put my hands over my ears but found I couldn't. A peircing wail reverbrated around, echoing what I assumed to be a room or small enclosure. It was very high pitched, and only lasted a few seconds before starting again. A baby I thought, one that wouldn't shut its mouth. Although, I realized after my sense of touch returned to me that the vibrations coming from my throat perfectly synchronized with the wailing. Meaning that the crying was coming from my mouth. A baby's cry. From me, practically an adult now. While the logic added up, my mind couldn't process it. How could it? I was a grown ass man, on the tail end of my teenage years, I couldn't be making that scream.
My thoughts were immediately halted when my sense of taste came back. Instantly, I recoiled, or atleast I think I did, or tried to anyway. A variety of different tastes were processed through my brain and one was distinc. Blood. I always hated the taste, whenever I had cut my lip or bit the inside of cheek on accident, I dreaded that I might taste the blood coming from the wound. There was also another...something that I couldn't quite pinpoint, which was probably a good thing considering how horrendous the taste was. The mixture of blood and whatever else it was in my mouth made me want to gag, Instead of a gag though, what came out of my mouth was something akin to a gurgle instead.
As I tried to ignore the disaster in my mouth I felt myself being moved. The two hands under my arms, at least I assumed they were hands, passed me over to another set of hands, only these had a piece of cloth, a towel I assumed, that they used to start wiping me. Noting that I was still crying, my mouth was open when they rubbed my face so I was unfortunately given another moughtful of whatever disgusting mixture I was covered in. Once again, my crying stopped and was replace by a gurgle as I had tried to gag.
Forcing myself to relax, I forced my mouth closed as the people holding me wiped me clean. I felt a twinge embarrassed as being able to feel the fabric wiping me down all over my body, directly I might add, I was naked. Great.
"It's a boy." I barely heard in the background.
A boy? Of course I was. Did they not see the evidence out on full display? Even then I didnt have a feminine build I was clearly a man by all intents and purposes. Why would they say that?
And then it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I put two and two together, but the conclusion I came to was illogical. Utter nonsense. Something that shouldn't happen. I didn't want to believe it...
As I was in denial, trying to think of any other explanation, my wipe down was complete and the person who had wiped me down then wrapped me in another piece of cloth, this I assume to be a blanket was on the move. We didn't go far before we stopped and I felt them lightly lean forward and lay me down in someonelse's arms.
"Oh, my boy. My sweet baby boy." I heard a soothing female voice whisper above me.
It was at this moment that I felt whatever was keeping my eyes closed go away. Hesitently, I opened. Light filled my vision and I saw a big blur in front of me. Slowly, I squinted, or tried to, to get my vision to focus and little by little the blur started getting clearer.
A face stared back at me, slightly hazy, but I could make it out if only just barely. She was beautiful, thought signs of exhaustion clearly plagued her face. Her bright yellow eyes had bags under them, her skins seemed a little pale, and beads of sweat covered her brow and dampened some of the black hair falling down on her face. Even then, I still believed her to be beautiful. She looked at me, eyes full of love and nothing else, a tired smile on her face.
"His eyes...Their stunning." She said, staring directly at them.
With this, I could deny it no longer. No matter how much I didn't want to believe it, no matter how much it didn't make sense, I accepted it.
I had just been born. I was now a baby. I was reborn. This woman holding me was without a doubt my new mother.
"Lady Ursa, may i ask? What's his name?" Someone next my mother asked.
"Kouen. His name is Kouen." She answered, never looking away from me.
Kouen? That would be my new name? Don't be joking. I already had a name. I had a life. What was happening? How was this happening?
"That's a lovely name." The lady replied.
Kouen? What kind of a name was that? What kind of origin did it have? It sounded Asian. And this woman...pardon my mother's, name was Ursa? What kind of a name was that? And why did that name ring a bell in the back of my head?
My mother finally broke eye contact with me and turned to her head to the left. Moving the hands on top of me she gestured to someone out of my sight. I heard footsteps and then someone else appeared above me, or so I believed. All I could actually see was a blur. Her face? came closed to my mother's.
"Can you bring in Zuko please? I'd like him to meet his new baby brother." My mother requested.
The woman nodded and let my vision. Footsteps moved away from me and a door opened and promptly closed. My mother once again returned her attention to me, her hand carresing my face.
Knowing I was on the verge of a mental breakdown, the soft caress and ocassional rub of my head, helped calm my nerves. Taking a couple of breaths, I began calmly thinking about my situation.
I was a baby. There was no doubt. The inability to use any kind of motor function correctly, along with the fact that I couldn't speak at all confirmed that. Although it could also mean I could be an extemely old person, but considering the woman holding me seemed like a giant, I knew it was the former.
I had just been born. My mother's tired looking face, the blood and...Oh no...I was covered in blood and...and...
I think if I had any food in my stomach, I would have thrown up about now. That stuff had gotten into...
Not wanting to think about that at all, I continued my thoughts.
My name, for better or worse, was now Kouen. The origin of the name was lost on me but it did sound of Asian descent. Did that mean I was born in an Asian country? No, it couldn't be. They were speaking perfect english, and then there was my mother's name, Ursa. As far as I knew, and I knew little, that wasn't of Asian descent. Although the other name she mentioned, Zuko, was.
Zuko. Right, she said I was his little brother, which in turn made him my older brother. That would take some time to get used to. I had been the eldest of my siblings, so the thought of having and older one was strange to me. But wait...Zuko. That name sounded familiar as well.
Zuko...Ursa...Argh! It's on the tip of my toungue! Why can't I recall!? Zuko...Zuko...that name brought on the image of fire to mind. Zuko...Fire...Prince...Prince..?
Prince Zuko...Prince Zuko!? As in Fire Nation Prince Zuko!? Exiled and disgraced Prince Zuko?! From the TV show?!
No way. Impossible. That was just a coincidense. This wasn't a fanfic online. This was real life. Real life does not include fiction. Reality was reality. This was a pure coincedence...right?
Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn't hear the knock echoing around the room. My attention distracted at the moment, I tried to turn to look but my underdeveloped head refused to fully turn and I could only turn it slightly.
The door opened and closed and the sounnd of footsteps neared. Once again, a hazy blur entered my field of view, though this time, it looked like it had another hazy shape moving near their chest. I once again tried with my might to focus on the blur but it was proving harder this time to bring them in to focus.
"Bring him in closer." I heard my mother say.
The blur immediately obeyed and bent down, bringing the second figure in their arms closer to me.
Once again, I tried to focus and this time I could vaguely see a face, young, staring curiously back at me. The face had a finger in it's mought, its eyes blinking and his head tilted just a tad. His head was full of black hair and his eyes were the color of a topaz bright yellow.
"Look Zuko. This is your younger brother, Kouen. Say hi." My mother said, softly.
Zuko, attracted by the sound of her voice, looked away from me, but quickly looked back. He reached out the hand he had in his mouth. He was too far away to reach me and my mother chuckled.
"No, Zuko, I'm afraid you can't touch him yet. He's much too young for you to handle." She said.
Zuko opened his mouth and let out a soft "Aaahhh" in response.
Zuko and Ursa. Mother and son. Ursa, the mother who would help her husband ascend the throne by poisioning her father-in-law while also protecting Zuko from being murdred by said husband. She would then promptly flee and, if I recall, gain a new identity as a plain old village woman.
And then there was Zuko. The exiled prince who would later come back and, with the help of the Avatar, overthrow his father and lead the Fire Nation on a road of peace.
These two in front of me were not them. They couldn't be. There was no way, it was just a plain old coincedence... but the next thing I heard threw that idea out the window.
"Has Prince Ozai arrived yet." My mother asked, looking up at the person holding Zuko.
"Not yet, Lady Ursa. It seemed something important came up and he will be delayed." The woman answered.
They continued to speak but I had tuned them out. Ozai... The main antoganist of the series who would try and dominate the world thought power, force, and fear, yet would ultimately be robbed of his bending by Aang. That Ozai? He was my father?
No...way...right?
I focused back on Zuko as he once again tried to reach down and touch and let a single thought pass through my head.
I had been reborn into the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, hadn't I?
Hey guys, just a story I thought up while I went on an Avatar binge that actually made it here. If you know my other stories, you'll know I've been known to drop a story at the drop of a hat. That being said I'll try and continue this story, but I wouldn't get your hopes too high. The second chapter should be coming soon, so I'd appreciate any feedback on grammar and storytelling and whatnot.
Until then Farewell.