Author's notes: A fic that I've been sitting on for many months, ever since I finished IThe Shadow of Kyoshi/I. Because Yun is the only character whom I really loved from those books, and I did not like the direction they went with him.

I have a few chapters already written, and for now you'll be getting one per week. I warn you, though, that I'm not actually sure where this story is going, so we'll see how updates get when those are exhausted.

"You think...that I'm the Avatar?"

The Air Nomad, Kelsang, seemed unsure. But the Earth sage, Jianzhu, drew himself up and gave the child a serious look.

"I don't think it, Yun. I'm sure of it."

The fourteen-year-old trembled. A strange mixture of emotions was warring in his stomach. A lot of it was fear. But a greater part of it was excitement.

That wasn't even the right word for it. He had been excited when the two rich visitors had first invited him to their inn to play Pai Sho. He figured he could swindle or steal something useful out of them. But ostensibly all Jianzhu had wanted was a good game, and Yun, even without the promise of profit, had been willing enough to provide it.

When Yun had pulled off one of his daring, spectacular wins, Jianzhu hadn't seemed shocked—thrilled, but not surprised. In their next game, Yun was the one in for a surprise when Jianzhu pulled off a counter-strategy. But then Yun had countered that counter, and even Kelsang, watching from behind, had gasped softly.

So the games continued for several days, and as they did, the two of them talked. Jianzhu asked Yun about himself. Was he a bender? Showoff that he was, Yun had answered by closing his eyes and levitating a piece of chalk behind the innkeeper's counter, writing out haikus in beautiful calligraphy from across the room. Bonding over the game, he had even allowed himself to reveal a few details of his background. He had come to like Kelsang, but Jianzhu proved to be a kindred spirit.

And then, they revealed their real motive.

Yun hesitated. His soul ached with longing, but his brain rebelled.

"I'm not an idiot," he said. "You two are trying to scam me."

Jianzhu spread his hands. "Scam you of what? With all due respect, Yun, I don't take you for a boy of tremendous wealth. What could we want from you?"

"The thing that most rich men want when they take street kids back to their inns."

"And what—" Jianzhu began, and then scowled. No wonder the child had refused to go farther than the inn's lobby and declined any food that they offered him.

Kelsang, usually just an observer, spoke up. "If you had ever met Avatar Kuruk, you would understand. The moves you've showed us—your earthbending, done with no formal training—even your smile is so much like his. Meeting you...it certainly feels like seeing Kuruk in the body of an Earth Kingdom boy."

"Yun," Jianzhu said—his voice, normally brusque and serious, quavered with emotion. "I don't know why it's taken so long to find you. But the world, and the Earth Kingdom especially, has been falling apart without an Avatar. You are a young man of remarkable talent. No—of destiny. If you don't think that you're the Avatar, tell me that you don't feel that. That your spirit isn't filled with a thousand voices telling you to fix the world."

That's what did it. Not just the sincerity in their voices, but the words that they said. They weren't trying to bribe him with food or money—the usual things that would draw a desperate kid into a stranger's bed. He would get those perks, but they weren't the selling point. They offered him meaning. They told him who he was and what he was meant to do.

He wasn't excited at the thought of being the Avatar. He felt...called, like this is what he had been meant for his entire life, but he hadn't realized it until they came and put the pieces together.

He could be the person to fix the world.

Tears came to his eyes. He looked down at the Pai Sho board, gripping the table until his knuckles turned white.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."

Yun really did think about killing them.

In the moment, the desire came entirely out of anger. Later, as he replayed the scene in his head, he would think of ways to justify it. They saw a poor kid, dirty and hurt and thirsty, and chose to mock him instead of help. If they were willing to kill him, why couldn't he respond in kind? Amak and Hei-Ran and Jianzhu had all said that you only show as much mercy to someone as they show to you. And Gow especially—he owed his life to Yun. What was to stop him from taking it back?

But in the end, Yun's better nature won out.

Mostly.

He destroyed the tea shop. Then he went outside and destroyed the well, above- and belowground. He left all four of his tormentors unconscious and bleeding in the dust, along with two other guards who tried to stop him.

He damaged the town's other buildings, but they were still standing when he stormed away, the fearful cries of other residents in his ears. He raised up a wall of stone behind him to keep anyone from following.

One thing Yun didn't do was get any water.

It was a conscious choice. It felt like surrender, somehow, admitting that he really did need these people's charity. So he contented himself with destroying their own supply. No water for him, no water for anyone. Let this whole town and its stupid mining operation die out for all he cared.

He raised a platform of earth under his feet and rode away, into the mountains, channeling his rage into his bending and the occasional wordless scream.

For a while, his fury was enough to sustain him.

But he was still so thirsty. His body ached. He was still weak from his battle with Father Glowworm, and it took a lot of energy to earthbend an entire town into submission.

After almost an hour of surfing the earth, heading nowhere in particular, he stumbled and fell from his mound of stone.

He lay panting in the dust or a minute, then climbed to his feet. He took a few steps, swayed, and then fell onto his knees.

He was so tired. And so hot. Was it actually that hot out, or was his body just overheated?

A sound halfway between a laugh and a sob escaped his burning throat.

He was going to die out here. He had killed an ancient, powerful spirit, one who had fought an actual Avatar to a draw, only to wander off and kill himself from exhaustion and dehydration.

Auntie Mui was right. He finally had worked himself to death.

He lay down on the ground. Curled up into a ball. Felt the earth beneath him like a hard, dusty bed. Feeling it was a comfort, even now.

The earth loved him, even if nobody else...

No. This wasn't the end. He just needed to rest for a minute. Then he would...then he would do something. He'd earthbend into the ground until he hit water. He'd go back to that mining town and salvage what he could from the ruined well. He would...

His eyes closed.

He just needed to rest.

Yun wasn't sure if he passed out right away. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, remembering that he needed to get up and then falling back into a stupor.

The last thing he noticed before definitely losing consciousness was a shadow passing overhead, along with the wonderful feeling of wind on his burning face.

Yun felt something being taken off from his face. He heard the tinkling of water, mixed with a voice humming. Then the item was replaced, now cooler and wetter.

Wet.

"Water," he murmured.

"Ah, you're waking up," a voice said. "Ready for a little more?"

Yun felt a canteen being pressed against his mouth. Wonderful, delicious water flowed out. He sipped it desperately, but after a few seconds the canteen was removed.

Yun licked his lips, desperate not to lose a single drop. "More. Please."

"Not too much at once," the man—Yun was pretty sure that it was a man—said softly. "When you're dehydrated, you can't drink too fast or you get sick."

Yun opened his eyes a crack. He saw a blurry image. A large man wearing red-and-orange robes.

"Kelsang?"

"Sorry?" said the man. The voice didn't belong to Kelsang.

Yun opened his eyes wider, then sat up slowly; the wet towel on his forehead fell onto his lap. The man kneeling next to him was not Kelsang, though the mistake was understandable. He was dressed in Air Nomad robes, and he had broad shoulders, but he didn't look as tall as Yun's airbending teacher. He had a beard, but it was short and neat. Most notably of all, he had hair. And, Yun noticed after a closer look, no tattoo on his forehead.

He glanced at his surroundings. He was in a tent, with a collection of blankets under him and a pillow where his head had lain. He was still wearing his filthy, disheveled clothes, though his shirt had been unbuttoned, presumably to help cool down his body. He put a hand to his head, closing his eyes tightly.

"Where am I?" he asked. His mind was having a hard time catching up to the present.

"The Xishaan Mountains," the man said carefully. "Do you know how you got out here?"

"Yeah. Kind of." Yun shook his head. "It's complicated."

The man only "hmm"ed. Then he asked, "Do you know who beat you up?"

He flinched. For a moment Father Glowworm was writhing in front of his eyes, blocking his view of the tent.

"Sorry?" he asked in a tight voice.

The Air Nomad chuckled humorlessly. "Well, it doesn't take much to see that you've been in a scrap," he said, gesturing to him. "And the ground outside is a mess—I hear most daofei aren't benders, but—"

"No. That earthbending is mine," Yun muttered vaguely.

The man's bushy eyebrows shot up. "All of it?"

Yun spoke carefully. "I'm a...pretty strong bender. But I overtaxed myself."

The Air Nomad let out another "hmm." He seemed to realize that Yun wasn't telling him the whole story, but thankfully he didn't press the issue.

"Well, you're just lucky that my daughter glanced down as we were flying by, otherwise..." He shook his head, then handed his canteen to Yun. "Here. Drink slowly. Ah, but where are my manners?" he said as Yun sipped. "My name is Truc."

Yun lowered the canteen to his lap. "Thank you, Truc. I'm..."

He faltered.

Over the last two years, as he had flown around the world meeting world leaders and famous sages, he had gotten used to introducing himself as "Avatar Yun." Now the words died in his throat once again. His memory of the mining town blazed in his mind, and the helpless fury that he had felt when the teashop owner tested his Avatarhood. Even if he just said "Yun," what would Truc say in response? "Oh, you mean like the Avatar?"

No. Not like the Avatar. Not anymore.

"I'm..."

Truc stared. Each second seemed to last an eternity.

And then, without warning, Yun's face screwed up. He choked, failing to keep a sob from escaping his throat. It was followed by another, and the next thing Yun knew, he was crying into the shoulder of a man whom he had met two minutes before.

"Hey!" Truc cried, though not unkindly. "What's the matter, son?"

Yun couldn't have answered even if he had known what to say. He took a gasping breath, then kept crying, spilling the tiny amount of water that he had regained onto his savior's clothes.

Meanwhile, all Truc could think to do was pat the nameless boy on the back and let him sob.