Disclaimer: We all know that the TV show Avatar: The Last Airbender is a great one, which we all love, right? Well, guess what. I DO NOT own IT or ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. So suck it up and deal, you filthy peasant.
Author's Note: You will see very little of Aang, Katara, and Sokka in this story. So if that's a problem, either leave right now and don't bother me, or suck it up and read on.
C/A/N: There is absolutely nothing of the original Avatar characters in this first chapter. In this, I just explain a bit of the background behind my main character, and sort of introduce her a bit. Keep your patience about you please, fasten your seatbelts and keepyour arms and legs outside the vehicle at all times! Thank you, have a good ride!
Chapter One: It's All in the Past
A soft breeze blew across the calm field where two sisters lay side by side in the grass, looking up at the cottony-white clouds drifting overhead in peaceful serenity, simply enjoying each other's company with perpetual smiles playing on their lips. One was somewhere around nineteen or twenty, and the other was almost ten years of age. Despite the gap in age, the two were closer than anything- and why? - Because they had no other family. Earlier than the younger of the two could remember, both of their parents had left their lives, stranding them alone with only each other. The older girl was named Becca; she was a pretty thing with a gentle smile and kind heart. Her sister, Alrea, was the energetic type with a free spirit and strong will. They were the perfect match; where Becca was shy but wise, Alrea was bold and rash. When Becca was weary, Alrea was still brimming with energy. The two were very close, always had been, even before their parents were no longer a part of their lives. Becca had taken care of her younger sibling for seven years so far, and didn't plan on stopping anytime soon.
But as we all know, plans don't always go the way you want them to.
Every nice day they could, the two would come to this field and lay together, Alrea listening intently as Becca told her the story of why they were all each other had, or about how things used to be; the happier times, that is. Sometimes, she would sing a song or two that Mother used to sing to them before they went to bed and slept. This day was one of those days, and the young woman sang softly to the girl by her side a lullaby-song of the good findable in every bad, the tune rich and pure, lilting and flowing sweetly in their ears:
Broken clouds give rain
Broken soil grows grain
Broken bread feeds man for one more day
Broken storms yield light
The break of day heals night
Broken pride turns blindness into sight
Broken souls that need such mending,
Broken hearts with hope that's pending;
Could it be that God loves broken things?
Broken chains set free
Broken swords bring peace
Broken walls make friends of you and me
Broken lies bring truth
Broken tears free mirth
Broken war renews the love of all
Broken souls that need such mending,
Broken hearts with hope that's pending;
Could it be that God loves broken things?
So, broken cloud- give rain
And broken soil- grow grain
And broken bread- feed man once more today
For, yes, freedom finally came
Praise His name-
Our God loves broken things
Once the song was done, Becca grinned at her little sister as her eyes fluttered but a content smile curled the child's lips. Alrea thought her sister must be the best singer in the world, because she could always feel the love she felt for everyone and everything when she sang. Snuggling close to her dearest sister who had watched over her for all her life, she fell asleep, that little smile still on her face.
Becca's heart was full of love for her adorable sister, and she lay there silently with the girl's head on her arm for an hour or so, but what happily stretched to years on end. Finally, the older sister gently shook the younger from her doze, whispering that she had to go into town now and buy some more food; the shack-like thing in which they lived was almost completely bare of food in its cupboards, not that there was ever much to speak of. Alrea protested groggily, but Becca lifted her into her arms with slight difficulty- she was not the sporty one of the two- and carried her to their very, very humble home, laying her down in her bed and kissing her forehead before she left.
A few hours passed, before the nine year old woke again, and the first thing she noticed was that she was hungry. Stumbling out of her bed she made her way to the kitchen mumbling, "Becca?" while rubbing her eyes, only to make the startled realization that her elder sister had not returned. Young Alrea knew that her older sister always went to the same store to buy groceries, because it was particularly less expensive than the others. (The nine year old was an exceptionally observant, curious, and very bright child, and always had been.) So Alrea left the little shack of a home in a hurry, rushing off toward the town, wary of anyone and everyone, as Becca had always told her to be when traveling alone. The road was not very busy that time of day, seeing how it was just before sundown; everyone would be packing up their wares and preparing to return home for the night so they could leave at exactly sunset. That was when the real traffic began, and usually Becca tried to avoid it. Why hadn't she come home yet? Alrea's great imagination and clever mind worked in overtime trying to think of positive reasons why her older sister was so much later than normal. Sooner than later, the little girl had reached town, and dodging rushing customers much belated to going back home, she hurried her way to "Benji's Grocer"- the store she and Becca always bought from. It was dark inside, the sign over the stall reading "closed" as the little girl had known it would.
Beginning to panic, Alrea ran all around town, shouting "Becca! Becca! It's Alrea, where are you?" Tears swelled in her eyes, but she refused to let them spill. Shopkeepers yelled at her to go somewhere else and quit all of that racket, but she would not be forced to do anything until she found her beloved sister. Finally, the sun had long since set, all the bustling beyond the towns border had ceased with the traffic's ending, and Alrea's nine-year-old body had been pushed to its limit. Her running faltered, and she stumbled then fell to the ground. She put an arm out to hit the ground first, so as to break her slip, but her hand met an upturned rock instead. Gritting her teeth, Alrea clenched her wrist trying to stop the bleeding and keep her mind off the pain. She rolled on the ground, whimpering on the inside, for what seemed like forever, thinking only about how things had gone from so good that day, to so very, very bad. She had lost everything now. Her sister was gone. What was she to do? Why would Becca leave her?
A single tear escaped her willpower's hold, and it slid down her cheek in one, graceful, mournful streak. Alrea lay silently then, her ear to the earth as she remembered something Becca had once said; "When nothing is going your way, and everything seems lost, stop. Be still. And if you listen to the earth, you can hear its heart beating. If you try this and you are one of the few who do hear it, only then will you be able to understand the meaning of all things." Alrea sighed shakily, trying to release all of her desperation, and stilled so that her breathing was shallow and soft- barely audible- and her heartbeat slow and gentle. For a moment she heard nothing, and the little girl's hopeful heart wrenched in her chest, but then- a dull, muffled thrumming reached her. It was not a sound that could ever be heard to the ears, but she heard it all the same. It felt like it was in her head and heart, throbbing comfort to her tired bones and peace to a sorrow-racked mind. Alrea almost grinned from ear to ear in sheer joy. Becca had been right.
Suddenly, a sound the girl had not heard before because she was rushing so much traveled over the ground and through the earth's pulsing heart to her consciousness. It was faint, but not far off. Someone nearby was crying- quietly, yes- but loud enough for one desperate girl to hear. And this girl would have known that voice anywhere out of a million others.
Alrea threw herself into a kneeling position; her ear trained on that one, faint sound. She stood up completely, and lost the sound. Freezing where she was, she closed her eyes tight and reached around for it, searching for that one particular noise. And she got it. Walking slowly then, so as not to lose her signal again, step by silent step, she followed her ears and instinct to where they led.
No normal nine year old could have done this, Alrea knew. No normal nine year old would have tried. They would have stayed home and cried, but not Alrea. Despite the fact that she was… special… she was always that much quicker in mind than her peers. That much more creative, clever, or bright. And they had always hated her for it. No matter her famous title, they shunned her.
What about now? Alrea thought with disdain, What do you think of me now? Do you know what I can do? Have you seen what has happened to us because of me? Angry thoughts clouded her mind, and the sound she followed wavered and started to fade from her recognition. She clung to it, and shut out her hateful memories in order to save her sister. Little by little, though, the sound got slowly louder, and Alrea could move faster and still here it. Adrenaline kicked in, replenishing the strength she'd lost with a temporary but powerful boost, and she rushed on, knowing she was getting closer and closer with each passing second.
Not more than two minutes had passed since Alrea had first heard the sound of her sister crying then she was standing in front of a very inconspicuous building that was so plain if you looked away from it for just a moment, you would forget everything about it until you looked back. The nine year old stared up at the door in front of her. It was plain as day wasn't night that her sister was beyond that door; her sobbing was very audible beyond it. Taking a deep breath, the girl looked around her in the alley, which is where the entryway she'd found was located, and searched for something she could use to get in through the door. (She had checked; it was most definitely locked.) In less than a moment, she spotted a rusted, old piece of metal that was flat for the most part, but too thick to be slid through the side of the door. Alrea picked it up anyway, weighing it in her hand and sizing it up. It was probably two feet long, give or take, and less than an eighth of an inch thick. With a grim smile, she but one end of the bar beneath her shoes foot, and stepped down as hard as she could. Grunting, she put her mind and power into the metal, and willed it to bend. Agonizingly slowly, it did so, and soon enough Alrea had a crowbar-like item.
Stepping up to the door once more, she fit the tool by the first hinge and pulled back with all the strength she had remaining. The metal pin seemed to fight back, trying its hardest to stay in place, but Alrea in all her hope and despair won in the end, and the pin 'chinked' to the ground. A sigh of weariness escaped the girl's lips, and a drop of sweat trickled down her brow. She repeated the first process with the other two hinges, the third one straining her aching muscles and willpower almost to its limit before it too fell to the alley floor.
Alrea threw her makeshift crowbar to the end of the lane, and glared at that opposing door with earnest adamancy. It still stood only because it was balanced and had been standing in the same place day after day, year after year, for a decade at least. The nine year old, rolled up her already short sleeves, and putting all of her hatred, grief, anger, and desolation into one point in her chest, threw her entire bodyweight at the door's one side where the hinges once had been. The door creaked and protested, almost pushing back, and sweat beaded and fell down the poor girl's forehead in all her weary pain. In quailing panic, Alrea hurled all her power at the door along with one last push of her shoulder. A rush of heat then chill, the screech of breaking metal, and a rush of wind met the little girl as she slumped to the ground in exhaustion. Her vision went black for a few moments, until she regained mentality and control over her trembling body. The girl knew it wanted to collapse completely and just blackout in order to recover, but her will was much stronger than her pain.
Squinted ice-blue eyes rose and looked up through a haze of pain and smoke into the room Alrea had reached. Those eyes widened, and the girl's jaw dropped. Somebody screamed, and it took Alrea a few moments before she knew it was herself.
A sixteen-year-old girl sat bolt upright in bed, throwing the covers to the floor, body and clothes drenched in cold sweat. Dark brown hair was half-pasted to her head and face, and her whole body trembled as though she had just used up all her strength and was spent. Which she had, only it had been seven years ago. And she had just relived the day in a dream.
The much older Alrea heaved a heavy-laden sigh, and rested her head in a hand while leaning forward slightly in weariness. This was probably the trillionth time she had awoken in the middle of the night, her past coming back to haunt her ever since that dreadful day when she had found… The girl shuddered at the recollection, not from fear or disgust, but from rage. The rest of the memory flooded her mind and played like a movie behind her closed eyelids.
The room itself was as plain as the rest of the building, but was furnished oddly; first of all, there was a queen-sized bed at the right, nothing fancy, it was simple enough, but the covers were all messed up as if it had been a rough night. (If you know what I mean.) To the left was a single chair, obviously not made for comfort, which was bolted to the floor as if the owner was afraid it would jump up and run away. But what had made the poor nine-year-old scream was the occupant of that chair- her older sister- bound to the chair with ropes tied so tight her feet and hands were tinged bluish-purple. The woman whose smile could once have made your day, looked up from her captive position- her face turned white from current pain and past fear, while dark bruises stood out on her cheeks where she had obviously been hit. Becca's eyes widened in surprise at hearing a scream, then seeing her little, nine-year-old sister slumped in the doorway, then those eyes widened evermore as her expression changed to fear.
"Get out of here, get out!" she shouted, struggling behind her bonds, "Run! Get away from this place!" Alrea shook her head ever so slightly and oh so very slowly, eyebrows furrowed. Why was her sister yelling at her? Wasn't she proud that she had come to rescue her? And what was she doing here anyway?
"No," she whispered, her voice raspy and oh so very tired, "You have to come with me. I'll get you out of here and we can go back home like this never happe-"
"You don't understand!" Becca screeched, eyes filling with tears as she shook her head emphatically, "H-he'll come back and he'll kill you, too! Besides, someone must have heard you break that door down, and they'll figure out your secret! They'll take you away and…and… You, you just… YOU HAVE TO GET AWAY!" The twenty year old thrashed against the ropes tying her to the chair, but to no avail except for further bruised arms and legs. She suddenly stopped and coughed, almost wheezing-like, attempting to clutch at her stomach. Why did she say "kill you too"? the girl thought, confused, then something in her head clicked as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. And iIt was only then that Alrea realized that Becca's shirt was stained red on the front, and it was getting darker by the second. Blood, she knew, it's blood. That son of a gun stabbed my sister and left her here to slowly bleed to death.
"Who's 'he?'" Alrea asked, trying both to keep her sister's mind off her horrible wound and give herself time to figure things out. Didn't Becca know how hard she had tried to get here? Didn't she realize how hard it was to find her?
"Th-the man who kidnapped me and brought me here to…to…" she shuddered violently and turning her face away threw up on the floor next to the chair. "He left not long ago, b-but he'll be back! I know he will! He said so and when he sees you he'll kill you, too, or sell you or do something else really horrible and I won't be able to take it oh it's my fault my fault…" Hysterical tears stained the young woman's cheeks and Alrea realized that whatever that man had done to her, (besides stab her in the gut and leave her for dead) had twisted her mind and scared the living daylights out of her.
"I can get you out of there and we can go." She tried to explain as calmly as possible. Why couldn't Becca see what she was saying? "That way we're long gone before he gets back, and we'll be able to find you a healer…" Becca shook her head slowly, her face paling further. The blood on her front was seeping through her pants and staining the ropes now, even.
"We'll never make it. I'm dying, Alrea, I'm dying." That blunt statement, although the girl had already known it, was like a knife in her stomach. "I might as well already be dead. Just leave, now. And perhaps you can save yourself." Alrea had shaken her head then, crawling slowly toward her dying sister. Once she had reached her, she lay a hand on her shaking knee, trying to give comfort. Becca leaned down as far as she could in her bonds, and Alrea kneeled up.
"I love you Alrea," she whispered, her voice more faint than a breath of wind, "I pray you have a long, happy life. I'm sorry I won't be there to see it. But know…I…tried. I. Love…You." And all the air escaped her lungs, and one final gush of blood splurged the now dead woman's shirt and her lifeless body slumped in her chair.
Tears streamlined down Alrea's cheeks, as her heart split in two and the halves tore each other apart inside her. She had lost everything now. Her parents had gone away when she was too young to know, and now some man had killed her sister. She was all alone. All alone.
But Becca had wanted her to live on; her sister had known she was strong enough to do this now. And with her dying breath, had pleaded her to leave, to live on, to just go. And so she would. And she did. The little girl ran from that place taking with her only the clothes on her back and shoes on her feet. She ran home, confused and utterly sad. When she was finally old enough to realize why that man had really taken Becca in the first place, she hated all boys and men. She never went near them and if she accidentally did or had to, she never trusted them and simply loathed them with every fiber of her being. Day by day went by, and she lived on, caring for herself and going to school. Her peers at that town shunned her, and she soon ran away from that sad town completely. Alrea ran to a different one, where she was generally accepted. Until, after a few years of mostly- peaceful school and living by herself, someone in her class mad her angry and she got into a fight. The boy she'd fought was hurt extremely badly and Alrea was expelled. She ran off once more, knowing that she had been smarter than her teachers anyway, and hadn't learned squat from them. She didn't need school, she didn't need anybody. They could all choke on their own vomit and die for all she cared. But Alrea's kind spirit wouldn't let her think that way for long. She had just been emotionally unstable after her sister's dying right in front of her, and took a year to cool off completely, living in the woods by herself and learning how to stay alive off the wild. When she did come back into the world, it was as a wanderer who traveled from town to town showing off her talents on the side of the road for an extra few coins to pay for the next meal.
And she had been living that way three years now, and it had been working out fine. Her audience didn't need to know that her tricks were actually real, and the fire she was juggling in her hand wasn't an illusion, or that the pictures she drew in the smoke were truly there. Alrea rubbed her hand over her eyes and rolled out of bed. She wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight, she knew, and stumbled her way over to her cheap little wash basin and splashed her face with chillingly cold water. Shivering slightly, she threw her fallen covers back onto her bed and stretched her back and arms in order to fully wake. She would be leaving this cheap inn today, and she had a bit to do before she could officially leave.
With a sigh, the sixteen-year-old thought, Today'll be another one of those long days. And proceeded to strip off her nightclothes and rummage for some clean ones. As she did so, she skimmed over the memories she had re-experienced just a few moments ago. A weary, "why me?" sort of noise escaped her soft lips, and Alrea stopped what she was doing in order to rest against the side wall for just a moment. For the past three years, she had worn a mask of cheerfulness and upbeat humor, hiding away her grief and past-pain. She was sick of it. She wished more than anything else, to be able to have that all taken away, and have something placed in her life that will the huge hole in her heart where love and joy used to be. With her sister's death, all of her life had fallen apart, and she didn't know how to fix it on her own.
It's all in the past, Alrea thought for the umpteenth time, convincing herself once more that there was something bigger out there, and she was going to find it and meet it full-on, and maybe finally, her happiness would return. She hoped.
Author's Note: How did you like it? Sorry it was so random… but I had to introduce the main character and explain her past before I could go on. Did I mess up anywhere? Did I miss something important? Are you confused at all? I would love to hear from you, so please please please review! Ask any questions you like, and comments would be very much appreciated. Criticism is also accepted, but don't hate me! This is my first fanfic! hides beneath arms Thank you!