Hello Everyone! It's been a while and I sincerely apologise. You might have seen that I tried to dip my toe back into the water with FanFiction and after a chapter I failed because although I thought I was, I wasn't as passionate on an idea. Sometimes you get ideas as a writer and your head swirls and becomes obsessed, fixated even with this one, singular thought. You start strong and begin to progress with a head full of steam and even ways to continue the story beyond what you had initially imagined. However, once you, I, press that first publish button. On that first chapter. What great excitement you once had falls away and you are suddenly left with this empty void. It's not something development on the idea you were previously excited about can fill. No, the real challenge is to continue. That late night from midnight till the break of dawn with that first great idea and concept is the easy part. Taking the marriage that you once had between your brain and heart placing it onto a page or a document is the most thrilling and exciting feelings. I know. I'm doing it right now. But it's the next step. That next big encounter. That never-ending mystery and dread that comes with 'The Future'. 'The Unknown'. The big 'What If?'. That's the difficulty. The plan for this story is synonymous with this ideology and in my writing, I plan to emulate and embody this feeling. During this topically relevant time (November, Men's Mental Health Awareness Month) Through the beloved art of fan fiction, I'm going to try and use my story to greater explore my own depression and struggle. I'm sure many of you out there will understand and hopefully find some catharsis. You should know that you don't venture alone into the tough times and you never will. I hope you enjoy this new series! – Writerdash73
I am a huge fan and admirer of ATLA and its sequel series TLOK (With as much controversy as that might cause) and after spending some time in the fan groups for years as a silent lurker. I decided to write this story based on an Avatar who embodies the feelings mentioned in the foreword. I've always felt a bit bad for him as he always mentioned as 'The Worst Avatar'. Avatar Kuruk who proceeded fan favourite, Avatar Kyoshi, died young and unfortunately did not have such a pleasant life unlike Avatar's Aang and Korra respectively who managed to get their happy ending. Although this story doesn't aim to do the same for Kuruk, I thought it would be interesting especially in the current climate to dive deeper into his mental state during the events of his life. This series is in no way canon (yet, one can dream), but I have essentially created a rare water bending ability (Not like they didn't have enough of those!) Stay tuned to find out what it is and if it doesn't suit you, that's absolutely fine, but it is NOT the main focus of the story, it is in essence a story tool used to create allusion between the main canon and this piece of fan fiction. Good luck!
A bright white light. A blink. A flash. It's unable to be seen through. Another blink. The white echoes off of the jagged edges of the jade emeralds that surround this underground cave. The bunker underneath lake Laogai was home to many secrets and the thousand score of Dai Li Agents that now surrounded Aang and Katara. The Agents were just one of the dangers that lived underneath the Lake, which sits just outside of the great, utopian city of Ba Sing Se. The Earth Kingdom as a whole had much pride for such a place home to natural beauties. The city alternatively kept it under wraps for their own nefarious schemes. One secret hidden was an illustrious water stream that ran through, which now Katara was using to defend herself with a Water bending technique she only mastered months prior. It was almost ironically placed there, as if to mirror the utter lack of fluidity that was present in and above the bunker. The once peaceful stream was disrupted by a vivacious white beam that shone. Another blink. Another Flash. A surge of power coursed through the veins in a way that felt right. Defensive, but right. Aang had finally reached the Avatar State. With much reluctance, he forced his heart to relinquish his Earthly attachment to his friend Katara and achieve his full potential as the Avatar. Although he loved her, he felt his brain drag his heart out through his trachea and out of his mouth. In order to save the woman that he loved, he had to let go of her. There was pain. His throat was dry. Aang looked below him for a moment. No one could notice cause his eyes beamed white along with his tattoos, but he managed to see her. Lock eyes with her. Feel his heart touch hers. Almost like a final goodbye whilst he transcends into this new being. Unconsumed with power, but a shell of what he once was in order to achieve his goal. To achieve harmony and peace in the world that he stumbled into as he stepped through his iceberg shaped Looking Glass. Aang had hoped things would change. Katara had hoped things would change. The world had hoped things would change. The day finally came. Aang spiritually had risen to the occasion, as did his body as it levitated off the ground. He looked away. He couldn't distract himself. Not again. Another white light crackled. Aang was truly focused, nothing could distract him. He was ready to save the woman he loved from every threat that faced them. He looked down at the Agents that currently surrounded him and planned his attack. Just as his brain could instruct his arms to gesture a swift, yet decisive blow, attacking the Dai Li Agents that surrounded him. Aang closed his eyes and took a deep breath to siphon the courage needed. Then, a Blue light. Piercing Pain. Deflation. Black. Awake.
A young boy aged 6 with dark brown skin wakes up in his straw patch screaming. His whole body tensed, yet his torso pressed towards the ceiling. As though an angel pulled a string connected to the centre of his spine towards heaven. The pain in his third vertebrae seemed sharp and instant, but it had the potential to last forever. The boy's mother and father rush into their son's igloo. They are covered from head to toe in snow but aren't wearing their customary furs. They simply rush in with their oil lamp and immediately through it to the ground once they enter. The room is dark. The parents hold their child wondering what the problem is and what they can do to help. Panic sets. The boy with his eyes clenched closed winces and squirms in pain. The darkness sets in, it could be a dark day for this water tribe nation. Then a bright light emerges. The boy has opened his eyes and in a somewhat familiar fashion, a breath of power with a slight twang of pain shines through. Outside the igloo, lightning strikes causing other villagers to poke their heads out. A mild confusion begins to settle in the camp. Lightning is only something mentioned in the village elders' stories. It's not real. But here it was, and it all centralised around a young boy's igloo and just as soon as it started it stopped. The lightning cracked and almost merged to become snow. The pure exhaustion that most had experienced during the day caused many villagers to believe that this was a freak occurrence that someone may be able to explain in the morning, but it would be months before they get a solid answer. All the while, the boy was asleep once more. Peacefully, silently, disturbingly. Not because the boy was in anymore distress, but because he had slept like there was no problem in the first place. His father looks around the walls of the igloo. His old hunting gear was scattered around his old hood made out of a polar bear. The father noticed his the bow and broken oar of his first both attributed to this shrine that was made. His son idolised him, but he couldn't recognise the boy anymore. That outburst of power disrupted the father's tangible understanding of the universe and the way in which things are ordered. Everything felt upside down in the North Pole. Like the world had spun of its axis and tipped the scales in their favour.
"Mother?" The boy meekly whispered.
"Oh Kuruk. Are you alright?" The mother questioned. "I had a nightmare" The boy responded
"Are you hurt?" His father asked from a safe distance. The boy sat up alone and winced whilst examining his own back. "My back is in a lot of pain. It feels hot." The red scar on his back was circular. Like a salmon spear had pierced the boy's back right in the centre. "That's a nasty scar" The father commented.
The boy smiled. "Just like yours Father." He sat up prouder than ever, but the mother was still concerned.
"Kuruk?" The mother beckoned softly. The boy turned to her. "Your nightmare? What did you see?" The boy scratched his head. He looked down to try and process the visions that had come to him. The boy could only say what he saw in its simplest form
"I saw… a boy… like me."