Things are still changing around, so don't freak out. This chapter was originally #3 but I combined 1 and 2 so now this is 2. Just in case you were wondering where we are.
AZ: Yes, the Gaang will be in this story, in fact, in this chapter!
Moonshadow0501: I'm glad you think this is so epic!
Still waiting to know what you guys think!
Sokka dodged a rock hurtling toward his head and charged the earthbender, letting out a loud warrior's whoop, and as he swung his sword, the earthbender vanished. Sokka's training kicked in and he scanned around him. He definitely wasn't on the docks anymore. He stood on a dusty patch of grass in the valley between low hills. Katara was by his side, as she had been moments before, warily taking in her surroundings.
Sokka looked up into the sky. He had traveled all over the world but, for the life of him, he could not make heads or tails of these stars. A small moon sat high in the sky, but he didn't feel a connection to it.
"Katara?" he asked.
Katara just shook her head, as confused as he was. "All I know is that you came back, and then Aang was there, and I was going to help you."
"You don't think this has something to do with Aang, do you?" he asked.
"It's possible," she admitted. "He is the Avatar, there's no telling what can happen around him."
Sokka huffed a sigh and began to grumble to himself. "I'm just a guy, with a sword. I didn't ask for all this 'cosmic power' and magic and-" that was about when his murmuring became unintelligible.
Katara rolled her eyes and suggested they might as well make camp. She began to climb a hill to see if she could find some firewood and when she reached the top she found a group of men layed on their bellies discussing something furiously in heated whispers.
Upon seeing her staring at them the men scrambled to their feet. One of them strode toward her confidently, and Katara had a moment to notice that he was extremely attractive, in a unique feline way, before he raised his hand to her, his palm shimmering in the moonlight, and she lost consciousness.
Sokka had turned back to tell his sister not to wander too far just as she collapsed. The stranger caught her and hefted her into his arms, as of yet, unaware that he was being watched.
"Hey!" Sokka yelled, unsheathing his sword and brandishing it at this stranger. More men crested the hill, the moonlight adding a dramatic effect, much to Sokka's annoyance. "Let her go!"
The man ignored his demand and instead asked, "Who are you? Friend or foe?"
Sokka growled and spit back, "That depends. What did you do to her? Let her go!"
Katara was passed to another man, wider and burlier with a wild beard, and the first man stepped forward with the grace Sokka had only seen in a master waterbender. A hand drifted to the jeweled hilt of a sword at his hip while the other hovered before him, as if he was trying to calm a cornered animal. Sokka glared at him.
"No harm has come to her, she is simply asleep." The man spoke with soft words in a calm voice. "Tell us who you are, do you serve Galbatorix, or do you seek shelter from the Varden?" He might as well have been speaking gibberish.
"What are you talking about?" Sokka asked, annoyed. He pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes and remembered a bit sheepishly that he had rolled out of bed not even an hour ago. "Who, in the name of the Spirits, are Galbatorix and the Varden. Who are you?"
The man before him gaped at him and his strange, angular features seemed drastically more human. The men behind him shifted and whispered to each other but Sokka kept his eyes on the leader waiting for his answer. The man didn't seem to know how to answer, and so, he raised his hand and began to advance toward Sokka, just as he had before Katara had fallen. Sokka whipped his sword up. The man halted and stared hard at the weapon.
"So that's what you want? So be it." And without further hesitation a sapphire sword slipped from the sheath at his hip. Before Sokka could register what was happening the man had closed the distance between them, swinging his sword. Sokka was saved by habit alone as his sword flew up to deflect the other.
Spirits, he was fast! Sokka's arm stung from the impact as he spun away, but the stranger wasted no time and swung at him again. Sokka back peddled and again barely deflected the blue sword. He lost his footing for an instant and listed to the side, but stuck his sword point in the dusty grass, more dirt than grass really, and a memory flickered. He ripped his sword along the dirt flinging a cloud into the air behind him as the stranger charged him once again. It worked just as perfectly as the first time. The man stopped and pawed at his eyes, blinking furiously to try to rid his eyes of the dust.
Sokka wasted no time and slammed his sword into the hilt of the other, and it fell to the ground.
"Who are you!" he demanded, the tip of his sword at the man's neck. The man mumbled something and before Sokka knew it, he was flying through the air. He gasped when he hit the ground again and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. When they opened again the man stood over him, his sword point inches from Sokka's neck. He was absolutely furious as he growled, "Who taught you to fight like that?"
It was no secret Sokka had learned from Piandao during and after the war, and so he answered, "Master Piandao of Shu Jing."
"Do you work for Galbatorix?" the man demanded.
"No, I have never even heard of him!" Sokka shouted back, annoyance creeping in.
"Who are you, and where did you come from?"
"I'm General Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, hero of Sozin's War and head of the United Republic Council. Who are you?" Sokka didn't usually use all of his titles at once, but this was getting ridiculous.
Complete and utter bafflement played across the man's features. "Enough games! Tell me who you are!"
Sokka just stared at him. Everyone knew who he was! The Gaang couldn't go anywhere in the world anymore without a parade and a week of feasting!
"I did! How about you tell me who you are, 'Mr. High and Mighty'," Sokka said
"I am Eragon, Son of Brom, Rider of Saphira, vassal of the Lady Nasuada of the Varden." Sokka was obviously supposed to know exactly what that meant and be highly impressed.
Instead, he raised a skeptical eyebrow and asked, "Have you been getting into the cactus juice?"
Eragon growled and brandished his sword to Katara. "Who is she?"
Sokka rolled his eyes answered. "My sister. Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, Waterbending master of Avatar Aang, hero of Sozin's War, former Ambassador to the Fire Nation, pending Fire Lady."
There was no recognition of anything Sokka was saying. He dropped his head back into the dirt and sighed. "Where am I? I lost my map."
"East of Feinster." Sokka cracked an eye open.
"Northern or Southern Earth Kingdom?" he asked.
"What are you talking about? What is the Earth Kingdom?"
That was the last straw! This guy was worse than that hippie Chong! "What do you mean 'what is the Earth Kingdom?' It's the biggest country in the world! It held off the Fire Nation for a hundred years!"
A look of shock crossed Eragon's face as he stared down at him. "Are you… from across the sea?" he asked breathlessly.
Sokka closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I'm gonna kill Aang he thought briefly. "Where am I?" he asked again, trying to be patient.
"You are in Alagaesia."
-x-
Zuko swung his swords over his head, intent on ramming a hilt into the man's head. Pulling the blow slightly, the brass hilt slammed into a wall. Zuko blinked in surprise and spun around. He shouldn't have been anywhere near a wall. Only a few moments ago he had nearly been pushed off of the dock!
The man he had been fighting was nowhere to be seen. Zuko's eyes flashed back and forth, taking in his surroundings, but his brain was having trouble comprehending what he saw. He wasn't on the open boardwalk next to his ship. He wasn't surrounded by Earth Kingdom loyalists. He was standing in a deserted alley.
One direction led into shadows, while the opposite lead to the lit, albeit dimly, street. Light was always better than darkness, Zuko mused and moved toward the street.
Zuko cautiously poked his head out of the alley to find a mostly deserted street. There was only a beggar sleeping against the wall of a shop and a rain barrel. Pulling the hood of his cloak up, the Fire Lord stepped out onto the dimly lit street. The light from a street lamp flickered against dingy walls that seemed to be crumbling from the foundations up. Zuko quickly slipped down the street, hugging the walls. He had no idea where he was, or where he was going, but information was everything, and he wasn't going to find out anything in an alley. At least not in that alley.
The end of the street opened into a plaza of sorts. Shops ringed the open space, closed up for the night, and in some cases, it seemed, permanently. Times were hard here from the looks of things.
The Spirits were not on Zuko's side this night. As he stepped into the plaza, a night patrol stepped out of a street to his left. The light from their torches glinted off of a sliver of his armor peeking out from his cloak. One guard called for him to stay where he was and Zuko bolted down another street.
His boots seemed impossibly loud against the paving stones as he darted down streets and alleys trying to lose the guards, but they were in good shape apparently and he was having trouble losing them. He skidded around a corner and ducked into an alley hoping the night watch would run past him, but he spooked a cat right as the guards passed and the chase was on again.
Zuko was thoroughly lost, not that he'd had any idea where he was in the first place, but kept running, cursing his armor with every step. He sprinted down another street and broke into another square. On his left he saw another man, not a guard, beckoning to him wildly. Something in his gut told Zuko not to follow this man, but the pounding and shouting of the night watch behind him left him with little choice. He could try to outrun them in a city he didn't know, or he could accept help.
He slipped across the square to the man and tried to keep up as his new guide turned and fled down the street. Zuko was led through the maze of streets, following blindly because he had no choice, and just tried to keep up. The sounds of his pursuers grew steadily distant until he couldn't hear anything at all. Finally, after Zuko was sure he had run half the night away, his guide stopped, leaning against a wall and holding a stitch in his side as he caught his breath, a wide smile on his face.
"Oh, it's been far too long since I've had a good chase!" he exclaimed, his breath coming in great heaves.
"Thank you for helping me! I'm a bit lost," Zuko said.
His thanks seemed to sober the other young man. He straightened up, stepping away from the wall, and his dark eyes seemed to turn to stone. "You shouldn't thank me. You would have been better off if they had caught you. Follow me."
Zuko didn't follow. He watched the other man warily, his hand drifting to his swords at his shoulder. His guide turned sharply, his dark hair whipping around as blazing cold eyes bored into amber irises. "I do not have all night! Move!"
Zuko stood his ground. "Why help me escape the guards if you are taking me to a worse place?"
The other man seemed to shake with suppressed fury and bite back a howl. His fists clenched and Zuko was sure he was restraining himself from throwing a punch. "You do not get a say in this! You can come willingly with me now, or be dragged to the King by your toes. But you cannot run from him."
What king was this? Zuko wondered as he weighed his options. He could try to run, but he had had difficulty just keeping up with the man, and doubted he could really outrun him in this place. He could fight him, but he had no knowledge of him, and didn't quite feel like showing his own hand yet. But he was the Fire Lord, for Spirit's sake! He should be able to deal with some knock off king. So he forced himself to relax and gestured for the man to lead the way.
They walked for what felt to Zuko like hours, turning up and down the convoluted winding streets until, finally, they stood before a great black wall. His guide pounded on the guard door off to the side of the main gate, spoke briefly to the eyes that blinked out at him shrewdly, and then led Zuko through a guard room and out into a vast courtyard. Across the way rose a huge dark palace, warm pinpoints of light shining out of windows, even at this hour of the night.
Without any hesitation his guide strode across the courtyard and into the palace. Stone sconces lit the interior of the palace and Zuko was once again led through a labyrinth of hallways, corridors, and staircases. As he followed, Zuko studied his guide.
He was handsome, to be sure, with dark brooding eyes and high cheekbones. His black hair shone like polished onyx when the firelight hit it. He looked young, perhaps Zuko's age or maybe a few years older. He had a strong build, like a bender's rather than a warrior's like Sokka, slim but obviously well conditioned. His clothes were nothing special, although not beggar's rags, and he wore them as if they were a king's raiment. He walked with an aura of confidence and superiority, like one used to giving orders and direction. He almost seemed a bit arrogant, Zuko thought, but he also realized, a bit sheepishly, that he must use that same walk in his own courts.
Finally, at the end of a long corridor before a set of grand doors, his guide halted and turned to him.
"You are about to meet the Lord of this land. You will show him the proper respect and bow to him. Do not speak out of turn - " At this Zuko suppressed a grimace. He was well aware what happened to one who spoke out of turn in the presence of a king. "- you will do as you are told."
Zuko nodded and his guide turned around and led the way through the doors.
The room was dimly lit, and Zuko squinted a bit through the gloom. The entire place smelled of ash and sulfur and his nose wrinkled. As he followed the man through the gloom he saw a man upon a throne. And then his jaw dropped.
The obsidian throne, and the man that sat back, relaxed, was dwarfed greatly by the hulking black dragon that hunched behind it. Golden spikes ridged from the dragon's brow, to the end of his tail, which was knarled and scarred from battles long forgotten. Off to Zuko's right, a smaller, but no less grand, ruby dragon lay curled on the floor. One crimson eye clicked open and followed the man walking towards it. The man slumped onto the dragon's foreleg, looking thoroughly exhausted, and the dragon's eye clicked shut again, trails of light gray smoke drifting to join the rest of the smoke that had engulfed the entire room.
Before him were the legends of his childhood! The original masters of firebending!
Zuko tore his golden eyes from the grandest creatures of his world, to stare at the man in the throne. He sat with dark eyes boring into Zuko. Remembering his manners, Zuko bowed, placing his left fist under his right palm.
For a long time, nobody moved. Then the King stood from his throne and walked slowly toward Zuko. He circled him and casually pulled the hood back from his face. Zuko heard his guide suck in a gasp at the sight of his scar.
In a deep baritone, the man asked, "Who are you, and from what land do you hail. I have never seen one with your hair color and light complexion."
Zuko's mind searched frantically for an answer. He had no idea where he was and quickly tried to bluff.
"My name is Lee, and I am from the West."
Liar!
A stabbing pain shot through Zuko's mind with the word. He dropped to his knees, grasping at his temples, hoping to alleviate some of the pain. Dully, like from a very far off place, he heard a voice, along with a feral growl.
"Master, please! He cannot protect his own mind. To attack it is-"
"Silence, Murtagh!" barked the King. "I know perfectly well, this boy does not know how to protect his mind. But if he is to serve me, he must learn honesty." The King's voice had dropped into a quiet thrum, barely more than a whisper.
"Now I will ask you again. Who are you, and where do you hail from."
Zuko's only thought, in his pain reaped mind, was to tell the truth. "My name is Zuko, son of Ursa, Crowned Prince of the Fire Nation."
This time, no pain came. Zuko thanked Agni for that.
"Very good. Now tell me of this world." The Kind waltzed back up to his black throne, gracefully falling into it.
Now that Zuko's head was clear, he knew he should not give any more to this man than he already had.
He kept silent.
"Do not make me tear it from you, boy!" Again the hot knife punctured his mind. It was all Zuko could do to not cry out. His muscles seized up as his memories were rifled through. Many focused on his Uncle, some on his banishment, while others went to the terrible deeds of his father.
Silently, Zuko prayed that this tyrant would not find anything about Aang. If this man knew of the power that boy held, Aang would be done for. Ozai may have been evil, but if this man could attack the very mind, Aang didn't stand a chance.
The King scrabbled at a scrap of Aang, but quickly discarded the memory, for it was only Aang telling Zuko that he had always lived as a simple monk.
As Zuko's mind was ravaged, the man, Murtagh, watched on silently, wishing hopelessly, that he could stop this. His mind drifted to when his own mind had been ravaged by the twins, when he and Eragon had first reached the Varden, and he shuttered, knowing this scarred man before him was just as helpless to fend off the attack as Murtagh himself had been.
Zuko gasped and dropped to the floor as the King's mind withdrew from his.
"Interesting. Your world's magic is based entirely around the elements. Show me your fire magic."
Zuko could not help but smirk as the King used the ignorant words Sokka always used for his firebending.
Zuko knew that if he wanted to avoid any more pain, and through that, stay alive, he would have to show this man what he knew, but he would keep it as basic as he could.
Zuko took off his cloak, setting it at the bottom of the dais the King's throne sat upon and walked to the middle of the room.
He breathed deeply, preparing to launch himself into the basics of his art. He slowly began to move, sparks jumping at his fingertips. Then as the basics became more complex, the sparks grew into flames, jumping from his feet and hands.
Zuko danced around the room, and finished off with "The Dance of the Dragon". He knew there was no way the King could memorize all of these moves after seeing them just one time, and even if he could continually refer to Zuko's memories, his body was not trained for the forms, and it would take him years to master.
Zuko bowed to the King, calming himself in the now stuffy room.
The King clapped, slowly, drawing it out before he stood and walked toward Zuko.
"You have power, and strength that has never before been seen in this world. You have magic that is unexpendable. You will serve me, and together, we will stamp out the stain that those blasted rebels have marred my kingdom with. Murtagh."
The Rider stepped forward, a large green stone in his hands.
Zuko immediately recognized it as a dragon's egg.
It shimmered in the dim light of the throne room. Icy white veins webbed the surface.
Murtagh handed the egg to the King, who in turn, offered the egg to Zuko. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the egg. His hands shakily took the egg, and he stared at it with awed eyes.
All too soon, the egg was taken from him and handed back to Murtagh.
"What now, master? If he is not destined to be a rider?"
"Murtagh, you foolish boy. Bring the other one." Zuko watched, curious.
"But Master, you said that egg was reserved for your own heir."
"Bring me the other one, Murtagh." The King's voice was firm, grinding almost, and Murtagh hurried to obey.
Two minutes after he had left, he returned, this time instead of an emerald egg, he carried a dazzlingly white egg, this one a bit smaller than the first.
Murtagh handed the egg straight to Zuko before stepping back.
Zuko held the egg, in just as much awe of this one as with the last. Even as he held the egg, Zuko felt something inside it shift. He jumped as the egg split almost perfectly down the middle.
Panicked gold eyes shot to Murtagh, whose face had fallen with what Zuko identified as grief. His eyes then looked at the King.
"I- I'm sorry, sir, I didn't do anything I swear! It just happened."
"I know, boy, quiet. Watch."
Zuko's eyes returned to the egg in his hands. More cracks had scattered across its surface, and slowly, a section began to shift.
Zuko watched as a tiny little diamond white head threaded its way out of the chip in the egg.
A dragon had hatched for Zuko of the Fire Nation.
-x-
While Toph had been hunting with Rowan Aang had continued to explore the island. There were plenty of fruit trees around the island and Aang had harvested some before returning. Toph munched on an apple as the sun hit the mountains, casting long shadows across the valley.
As they ate, the two shared anything interesting they had found while exploring that day. Aang pulled an old scroll from his belt and layed it out before him. "I found a map." Toph seemed unimpressed, but Rowan poked at the old parchment curiously with his snout. "I have no idea where we are. I've never seen this part of the world on any map before. I'm going to try to talk to Roku tomorrow and see if he has any idea what might have happened."
Toph nodded and the two turned in for the night, but not before Rowan had weaseled his way between the two and promptly fell asleep.
-x-
The next morning Aang woke refreshed for what felt like the first time in his life. It had been too long since he had gotten a full night's sleep. Toph knew he wasn't as at home on rock as she was, and she had turned the slate floor in their tent into a fine sand, almost powdery to the touch.
Rowan was curled up in Toph's arms, and Aang reached over to stroke his head affectionately before dropping a kiss to Toph's hair and slipping out of the tent. Grabbing a mango from their food stash he wolfed it down quickly and then sat before the fire pit. There was no point in delaying talking with his past lives, so he quickly cleared his mind and tapped into the Avatar State.
Once again, the unexpected happened. His intention had been to call his past lives to him, one by one, as he had when facing the dilemma of ending Ozai's life going back as far as he needed to find answers. Instead, he found himself in the Spirit World. The place was familiar to him now, having spent four years as a fully realized Avatar and acting as the bridge between the worlds. What wasn't familiar to him was the man that stood before him.
He had a long white beard that rippled down his chest, twinkling blue eyes, and a staff. A jeweled sword hung at his hip but he gave Aang a smile like a grandfather watching a favored grandchild. A smile Iroh often gave him.
Aang scrambled to his feet and bowed respectfully. "Ummm, are you here to tell me what's going on?" he asked hopefully.
"I am indeed. My name is Brom," the old man said, dipping his head in a small bow. "What would you like to know?"
Aang's mind reeled. Where to start! "Well, I would really like to know where I am. And why."
Brom nodded. "Of course. You have been brought to a world that needs your help."
Aang cut him off before he could get farther. "A world? What do you mean?"
Brom gave him an annoyed look before explaining. "Well, there is your world and the Spirit World. What makes you think you're so special that yours is the only one to exist?"
Aang wasn't sure how to answer and so remained silent. Brom huffed a bit, and then continued. "Alagaesia, this world, has been ravaged by tyranny for centuries and it has finally boiled over into war. It needs help to return to peace. Why a little stick of a boy like you was called, I do not know."
"Hey!" Aang protested. "I'm not a stick of a boy! I'm the Avatar, the median of peace and balance in the world." Brom looked unimpressed. "You want me to bring peace to this world, fine. What do I do?" Aang spat. He had always felt his life had been ripped out of his hands at a young age. His destiny had been set before him and he had had no control over his life as it careened through the war. Marrying Toph had seemed like a marker that he was finally in control of his life. The Universe could not even give him three months peace before tearing it from his hands again.
Brom seemed to take note of the steel in the young man's voice and smiled approvingly. Perhaps he would be able to help. "There is a rebellion opposing Galbatorix, the evil king. Leading that resistance is my son, Eragon, the first of a new generation of Dragon Riders." Aang opened his mouth to ask what a Dragon Rider was but Brom gave him a fierce look. "Dragon Riders were once the keepers of peace in this world, but they grew arrogant, and Galbatorix overthrew them and named himself King. A dragon egg hatched for Eragon, making him a Dragon Rider-"
"Wait, a dragon hatched for me! Or, at least, I guess it hatched for me. I got this when I touched him the first time," Aang said eagerly, raising his palm to show the shimmery mark.
Brom's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head! He scrambled forward and grabbed Aang's wrist roughly, examining the mark. "You have the gedwey insignia," he murmured. A huge smile broke across his face as he looked into Aang's eyes. "Fate truly is on our side! You must go south. Find the Varden and tell Eragon that I sent you. You must tell him these words exactly: Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal. Eka aí fricai abr Brom. * Do you understand? It is vital you tell him this!"
Aang struggled to commit the strange sounds to memory, but nodded. "How will I find him? I know nothing of this world."
"The Varden are liberating those under the Empire's rule. As you travel, you will undoubtedly hear rumors as to their location. You should be able to find a map somewhere on the island."
"I have a map," Aang assured.
Brom smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Good. You are on the island in the northwest corner. Travel east until you reach the continent, and then follow the mountains south. Once you find him, Eragon will teach you and together, you will defeat Galbatorix. Good luck, Rider, Atra du evarínya ono varda**.
-x-
When Aang opened his eyes it was nearly midday. Toph was stretched out on the dirt, enjoying the sun as Rowan examined a bug. He stretched his legs out, rubbing his calf to help the circulation as blood rushed into his limbs.
"Finally!" Toph exclaimed, not bothering to open her eyes. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever wake up."
Ignoring her joke, he explained all Brom had told him. Toph listened attentively, as she always did, and then said, "Looks like we're getting that honeymoon after all."
So there it is! Chapter 2.
But wait, you say. How can dear old Galby have another egg? I really would not be surprised if he had kifed a few extras before destroying the majority of them. I think his grand plan, revealed in Inheritance, was his plan from the outset. I would not be surprised if he had thought ahead and grabbed some eggs planning to restore the riders under his rule.
*"I am a Rider and a friend. I am a friend of Brom"
**"May the stars watch over you."
As great as it is to get favorites and alerts for this story, I would really love to know what you think of it. Comments and critiques are welcome, and flames will be laughed at, and then used to roast starburst. I really want to know the reaction to this! So please process and reply. The layout has even changed to make it easier! I am still not above bribery, and you get a cookie!
Tenneyshoes