"Fighting a war tests a soldier's skills. Defending his home tests a soldier's heart."
– Star Wars: The Clone Wars, ARC Troopers
The Lone Defender
Aang pushed himself to the limit as he sprinted back to the tribe.
They were now all in great danger, and the need to prevent more innocent blood from being spilled was the only thing that kept Aang from succumbing to grief and despair once more.
When he finally arrived back at the village, winded and gasping for breath, the young children were the first to greet him.
"Yay! Aang's back!" one little girl called excitedly to the others. The rest of them all crowded around him, laughing and cheering in innocent joy.
Then Aang saw the adults that stood behind them. The same eyes that once held amazement and awe that very same morning now held looks of disapproval and suspicion – even hatred.
Kanna watched solemnly as her grandson stepped forward to address the young foreigner.
"You!" snapped Sokka, fear and furious betrayal apparent on his face, "What did you do?!"
The question was unavoidable, and Aang knew from the teenager's tone of voice that he was demanding the truth, and nothing else.
Hanging his head, the airbender began to speak, "I found a wrecked Fire Navy ship out on the ice. I went on board to look for proof that your words were true. I found my proof, but then I accidentally set off a booby trap."
"Yeah, that much was clear!" huffed Sokka, folding his arms, "Not even one day here and you've managed to ruin our way of life for good! Now the Fire Nation will be coming our way and if you don't want to be wiped out like the rest of your kind, then pack your things and go!"
"But what about you?" asked Aang, worried about the people he had placed in the crossfire.
"Get out!" Sokka yelled with finality, before turning around and storming back into the village.
The other adults turned to follow, the mothers summoning their children to come along with them. The children reluctantly followed.
But the youngest of the girls stayed behind to give Aang a forlorn hug and some final, tearful words.
"Aang, don't go. I'll miss you…"
Kanna watched as the girl's older brother came up to her, gently taking her by the arm.
"Come on, Rudda," he spoke, his tone grave and saddened too, no doubt as unhappy about the situation as his little sister was, "You heard what Sokka said."
The two young children walked past Kanna, hand in hand. Kanna closed her eyes, images of her grandchildren – both of them – at that age flashing across her mind.
Katara would have loved to meet him.
Then, she let her old legs carry her towards the boy, the pace of her stride slow with ancient weariness and melancholy.
"It's not your fault," Kanna told the airbender, "My grandson just has a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. He takes out his grievances through his anger. He's just worried about our tribe. And he's worried about you."
She passed to him the rucksack that she held in her hands.
"You have several days' worth of food and water in this bag. Don't worry, there's not a single slice of meat inside," Kanna stated, her brow furrowing in matriarchal concern, "Now you really must be going."
"But what'll you guys do when the Fire Nation comes?" Aang asked, despair and helplessness straining his voice down to a fragile whisper.
"We'll do what we've always done. Fight them as best as we can."
"But you don't stand a chance."
"We failed to protect our waterbenders," Kanna sighed sadly, a haunted look darkening her eyes, "Maybe we deserve this fate."
The old woman could see that the boy wanted to tell her otherwise. He wanted to tell her that no one did anything to deserve the cruelty of others, but his own sadness kept his throat sealed shut.
That was probably for the better. With Kanna's mind dwelling on memories of her deceased granddaughter, the airbender's words would have fallen on deaf ears, and what precious time he had available to escape would have been wasted.
The only words he was capable of tearfully choking out were, "I'm sorry."
And then he left to join his bison, who had been previously led out of the village by the tribespeople.
Over the next few minutes, Kanna watched as the boy miserably mounted his companion and they disappeared over the snowy hills and into the icy plains, before she made her way back into the village to prepare for the end.
Inside a tent, a Water Tribe teenager prepared himself for battle.
This was his time.
All the hopes, dreams, and promises of his life flickered through his memory.
In his younger days, he had been callow and naive enough to look forward to such an opportunity as this. With the simple mind of a child, he had viewed combat as the ultimate way to win glory and honour for himself, his family, and his tribe.
Only later, after the deaths of his mother and sister, and the departure of his father and so many of their numbers, did he come to understand that such prestige and splendour came at a high blood price. Now he looked back with severe disdain on his younger self's eagerness to fight. Because fighting meant that someone's life would come to an end, whether it be their own or the enemy's.
Fighting meant that the situation had gotten desperate, and there was no other chance of escape.
And so he said nothing as he sharpened his blades, donned his armour, and applied war paint to his face. After all physical checks were done, he spent the next few minutes in silence, praying to the spirits for guidance and courage.
But despite his outward display of resolution, inside him guilt gnawed away at his heart.
His fists clenched as he heard a voice that sounded so much like Katara's speak to him in the back of his head.
You didn't have to say those things to Aang. You know it wasn't his fault.
That may have been so, and that line of reasoning was sound, but his earliest memories of his baby sister sprung to the forefront of his mind.
The shrill sound of an infant's crying filled the igloo.
A young toddler groaned in annoyance as the commotion awoke him from his sleep.
His father made his way to pick up the crying infant, while his mother watched her husband and baby daughter fondly.
"Silly baby," the little boy muttered sulkily, before his mother's arm curled around him.
"Now Sokka, you know babies need a lot of care and attention," Kya said with a gentle smile.
"She's loud," he continued to complain.
"She needs us," Kya explained patiently, "She needs us to care for her and love her."
Kya paused heavily, before she spoke again.
"Katara is our last waterbender, Sokka. As her big brother, you must protect her. Always."
Little Sokka didn't know what a waterbender was, but he had the feeling it was something important. And when his mother spoke with that solemn tone of hers, he felt compelled not to let her down.
But I did let you down. Both of you.
He had failed to protect his mother and sister, and now here he was, asking their spirits to help and watch over him as he went off to battle.
He felt like a traitor. And he had unfairly taken those feelings out on Aang.
Yes, Aang had been desperate, and his recklessness would be their doom. But he was just a child, too young to understand what it meant to kill. Too innocent to have ever known the pain of loss.
Though he had not said it in the kindest words possible, Sokka had ordered the airbender to flee. For his own sake.
It was a small consolation, but at least the guilt of failing to protect Aang wouldn't weigh down his heart anymore.
Now he only had the safety of his tribe to worry about.
A young boy, barely a teenager, watched in sorrow as his father finished loading the last of the war boats.
All the men of the Southern Water Tribe were leaving alongside their chief to directly participate in the war.
Not wanting to be left behind, the boy had packed the essentials that he needed for travelling, and hurried to where the icecaps met the water's edge.
He approached his father, lugging his heavy equipment on his back.
"Sokka…" the chieftain sighed as he spotted his young son.
"Dad, I'm coming with you," the son insisted again, though there was little defiance in his voice.
"You're not old enough to go to war, Sokka, but you are old enough now for me to be able to entrust the village to you," Hakoda responded in an attempt to console his son – the only child he had left now.
"I can't do this without you, Dad," said Sokka as he hung his head, letting a few tears fall from his eyes, "Please don't leave me."
Hakoda dropped to one knee and used a gloved hand to softly wipe away Sokka's tears.
"My son, part of being a man is knowing where you're needed most, and for you right now, that's protecting your village. Your home."
"I… I understand, Dad," Sokka finally replied after several heavy moments of hesitation, "I'll miss you, though."
"I'll miss you too, son," Hakoda said, embracing his son tightly.
Both father and son held onto each other, wishing this moment would last forever, before eventually the chieftain had to part from the embrace and cast off with the last of the boats.
With a steely gaze, the heir of the Southern Water Tribe watched his father's boats depart. When they finally disappeared over the horizon, he turned to go back to the village.
His mission. His promise.
A warm breeze filtered through the opening of the tent flap behind him.
It blew out the small flame of his prayer candle.
That warm breeze brought the black snow.
And the black snow signalled the imminent arrival of a Fire Navy ship.
He stood up, a battle club in his left hand, and his trusty boomerang in his right.
Now was the time.
Without reservation, without hesitation, without doubt, and without fear, Sokka went forth to war.
The captain's quarters glowed with the flames that emanated from mounted torches.
The exiled prince barely noticed the several crewmen that bustled about the cabin, sharpening gauntlets and blades, and fastening metallic armour plates onto his body. He was only focused on seeking Agni's blessing of grace and guidance in order to fulfil his duty.
He also silently thanked his uncle in his thoughts, deep down feeling certain that the advanced set of firebending katas he had learned just hours earlier would aid him greatly in the upcoming fight.
As his pre-battle meditation drew to a close, a pair of crewmen finished fastening his helmet. Now, everything was ready.
Prince Zuko stood up, ready to face his destiny.
Nearby, a boy and his bison were sheltering themselves from the freezing weather, resting beside a tall ice formation.
"How could this have happened, Appa?" the boy muttered miserably, not really expecting an answer from his beastly companion.
Sure enough, the bison let out a low, aimless roar in response to his master's question.
"We're the last of our kind," said the boy, now deep in thought, "We need to escape. We need to survive. But at the same time, running away doesn't feel right anymore."
Another low growl from the gentle beast.
"What to do? What to do? What to do…?" the boy fretted, frustration building up at his inability to find an easy answer.
He stood up from where he was sitting on the saddle, pacing back and forth in consternation, before his sharp eyes caught sight of a cloud that was slightly darker than the rest.
Silver orbs traced the thin trails that swirled beneath the dark grey cloud, all the way to the faint outline of moving ship – one that was of the same kind that he had just explored a while ago.
"The Fire Nation is here!"
With that, the emotions that had clogged his judgement evaporated, and clarity surged through his mind once more. The handgrip of his staff twisted, and silk wings sprung out.
"Appa!" he yelled as he jumped off his friend and started flying back to the village, "Wait here until I come back!"
The bison growled obediently in response and made himself comfortable on the snowy ground.
The prince of the Southern Water Tribe made his way to the top of the defensive wall that encircled his village.
He knew his home's defenses left much to be desired. For one thing, that wall was not even half the height it stood at during his grandmother's youth.
But back then, they had a tribe full of waterbenders.
He turned to address the rest of his people, who had amassed in the main plaza of the village.
"Go! Run while you still can! I will hold them off!"
To his shock, none of them moved.
"We're not going anywhere," one of the elders, Neneh, spoke up.
"You can't stay here! They'll kill you!" Sokka pleaded, trying to reach them through cold, hard logic.
But Gran-Gran stepped forward.
"In this life, we only have each other," she declared, to no one in particular, "If one of us falls, we all fall."
Then she personally addressed her grandson, her old eyes looking steadily at his.
"Sokka. We are with you until the end."
Amongst his gathered people, Sokka heard a child shout.
"No fear, boys!" Rikada rallied the young warriors.
They responded to their leader's battle cry.
"No fear!"
Seeing that they wouldn't be convinced otherwise, Sokka turned back in the direction where the invaders would come from. Despite the fear he felt for his people's safety, a small part of him felt thankful for their unbroken unity in facing what may be certain death alongside him.
He was so distracted while dwelling on these thoughts that he almost missed the ship that had suddenly emerged from the fog, its iron bow heading straight for him.
"Aw crud…!"
Instinctively, he turned and jumped, sliding down the curved inner side of the wall and sprinting as fast as he could to stay clear of the bow as it ploughed effortlessly through the frozen waters. Cracking ice was accompanied by the horrible sounds of screeching metal.
Finally, almost as quickly as it had appeared, the ship came to a stop. Sokka whirled around to face the invading vessel, his battle club held at the ready as he awaited the swarm of Fire Nation soldiers that would soon pour out from the lower decks.
The bow door lowered without warning, and Sokka had to leap back to avoid being crushed. He landed roughly on his back with a cry.
The distinct thuds of boots walking on metal made him snap his head up. He saw the first wave of soldiers marching down the ramp in formation. He noted with some interest that their leader seemed to be just a boy who was barely older than him.
Sokka mentally shoved his intrigue to the side, charging with his club raised high.
Now was the time to act.
When he swung, it was with a strength that would have made his father proud.
But easily, contemptuously, the enemy leader ducked underneath, as if he saw it coming. He spun with such surprising speed, in spite of his metal armour, that Sokka was caught completely off guard when a booted foot connected with his jaw and knocked him off the ramp.
Frightened shouts of concern rang in his ears as his head spun. He picked himself up slowly, spitting blood and snow from his mouth. Snarling out another battle cry, he charged again.
This time he found himself flipped over onto his back. A sharp gasp escaped him as his stomach was stomped on, and he was kicked in the side several times as he crawled clear, his breathing ragged and his limbs unsteady.
Gran-Gran tried to approach him, but she was seized by the enemy leader, who spun her around to face the villagers.
"Tell me where you are hiding him!" the Fire Nation soldier hissed. When he got no reply, he started yelling in rage.
"He'd be about this age!" he barked, gesturing at the old woman, "Master of all the elements! I know you're hiding him – tell me where he is!"
"No! Not Gran-Gran!" Sokka thought frantically as he forced himself to his feet and tossed his boomerang.
It sailed straight for the soldier's head, forcing him to release Gran-Gran and duck.
As several adults took advantage of the lapse to drag her to safety, one of the children ran to aid Sokka.
"Courage, fellow warrior!" Mada yelled as he handed the teenager a spear. Sokka gave a quick pat on the young boy's back in gratitude, before charging back into the fray once more.
He sidestepped a jet of fire and leaped over another, managing to get within range of the firebender. He swung and thrust his spear, attempting to stab the young soldier and parry any counterattacks. He lasted for a bit longer this time, before the soldier applied a leg sweep on him, and he once more tumbled onto his back.
The spear was taken from his hands and snapped in half.
"Oh man…" Sokka cringed internally as the firebender approached. The pain was becoming harder to ignore now, and it had taken its toll on his stamina.
Before anything else could happen, the sound of something spiralling in the air became apparent. The firebender looked around suspiciously, but he didn't catch sight of the returning boomerang until it was too late. The resulting blow knocked off his helmet and left him staggering.
Sokka inwardly cheered, but was soon frozen with terror again as flames erupted from the boy's hands.
Holding out both hands in front of him, the firebender prepared to launch a devastating burst of flame at the grounded warrior.
But there was a howl of wind as a flash of yellow rammed into the firebender, knocking him onto his side.
Everyone looked up to see a banking hang-glider, helmed by a bald young boy.
"It's Aang! He came back!" one of the little girls cheered.
The airbender retracted the wings on his staff and dropped to a three-point landing in the snow beside Sokka.
Sokka gaped at him, at a loss for words, before the instinct of a warrior took over him once more.
"Thank you," he finally said.
"You're not going to fight alone," Aang replied, before getting into a ready stance with his stave held out to the side.
Seeing this unfold was the last straw for the enemy leader.
"Soldiers, attack!"
Zuko watched in begrudging amazement as the airbender leapt into action.
So this is the mighty Avatar? He's younger than I expected.
Though young and alone he may have been, the last airbender was every bit as dangerous as Zuko's tutors had told him.
The boy moved as swiftly as the wolves that inhabited this frozen wasteland, summoning blasts of snow with rapid gusts of wind. The soldiers who were foolish enough to approach him were swatted aside like flies.
Knowing that he'd have to get involved himself, Zuko readied himself with his uncle's breathing exercises while the rest of his men tried and failed to defeat the Avatar.
Even though he could've gotten the drop on the Avatar while he was distracted, Zuko refused to let himself slip to that level.
At last it was just the two of them.
The Avatar and the Fire Prince began circling each other warily, eyes locked on each other's bodies, watching for the slightest sign of aggression, waiting for a pre-emptive indication that would betray the intentions of an upcoming attack.
Without taking his eyes off the Fire Prince, the Avatar addressed the Water Tribe warrior behind him.
"This one's mine. Protect your people."
The warrior nodded silently and got clear of the impending clash.
Finally, the prey addressed his hunter.
"Looking for me?"
Zuko hid his surprise at how young the airbender sounded. It was still hard to believe that his ultimate target was only just a boy.
"So… you're the Avatar. The Last Airbender," he drawled, still circling in the snow, "I've spent years preparing for this encounter. Training. Meditating. And you? What about you?"
It was a rhetorical question, both of them knew, so the Avatar didn't waste his breath in replying.
"You don't stand a chance," Zuko continued, "You're just a child."
"Yeah? Well you're just a teenager," the Avatar shot back, and with that the battle was on.
A burst of baleful fire met the cold resolve of a blast of air. Seeing that the Avatar was just holding his ground, Zuko pressed forward to gain the advantage. He unleashed a flurry of flaming jabs and kicks, the Avatar deflecting them with efficient, disciplined movements. Ramping up his assault, Zuko traded in speed for power. With less energy spent on acrobatics and elaborate manoeuvres, his strikes carried more weight behind them.
It was a risky move, exchanging agility for strength. But it seemed to be paying off. The Avatar was giving ground, the vicious assault pushing him hard and keeping him off-balance.
A jet of flame was dissipated by a surgically precise windshear. A stronger blast of fire was extinguished by the Avatar whipping up a layer of snow with a gust of air summoned from his stave. Adding a surge of power, Zuko's next devastating strike was barely blocked by the Avatar twirling his staff to deflect the burning energy away with an air current.
Again, Zuko unloaded a power strike. And another. And another.
The airbender retreated, his defenses overwhelmed. The Fire Prince readied his next blast with an increased swiftness, and deliberately aimed it off-kilter.
This time the Avatar was unprepared for the full brunt of the attack. Though he was able to ward it off, the split tails of the flames came close enough to the amassed villagers to crispen their hair and blacken their furs. They cried out in terror.
Their bloodcurdling screams made the Avatar hesitate and drop his guard. But before Zuko could take advantage of the opening, the Avatar swiftly turned back to face him.
"We don't have to fight over this!" the airbender pleaded.
"Oh yes we do!" Zuko retorted as he braced himself for any further attacks, not willing to fall for any tricks.
"I mean it!" the Avatar persisted, urgency and desperation lowering the pitch of his voice. Closing his eyes, the young boy sighed and stepped forward, lowering his staff at his side.
"If I go with you," the airbender asked shakily, unable to stop the tremors that began, "Do you promise to leave the rest of the village alone?"
"He's surrendering?" thought Zuko in bewildered amazement, "So attacking the Avatar without care for whoever else gets caught in the way will make him stand down? Interesting…"
Seeing his chance laid out in front of him on a silver platter, the exiled prince nodded in agreement with the airbender's terms.
Sokka saw two soldiers come up behind Aang and force his hands into shackles behind his back. The boy made no move to resist. Not even when his staff was taken, nor when he was made to march forward away from the village.
The Avatar's steps were steady, even as he walked towards the jaws of the ship, up the metal ramp, towards what would be certain doom.
But even from the ground level, Sokka could see the way the boy's shoulders shook, the way the airbender hung his head, how all of Aang's resolve had ceased to be.
The Fire Nation troops reached the top of the ramp, their prize in tow. They faced the Avatar towards the defeated village, so they could all see how the world's last hope had finally been taken and extinguished.
As the bow door slowly began to close, Sokka caught a final glimpse of the boy's eyes. No longer did they shine silver with the spark of innocence and youth. Now they were a sombre grey, as bleak as the dying body of an old seal, as dark as the ashes from the aftermath of a blaze.
Within those eyes, there was a desperate, unspoken imploration.
Please don't let them take me.
Sokka had seen that look before, in the blue eyes of his little sister, as she was ripped away from her family and home forever.
He could watch no more, without tears threatening to well up. So he lowered his head, his eyes shut tightly in anguish.
Just as it had done on that fateful day six years ago, the bow door slammed shut with a clang of finality.
The ship began reversing outwards, away from the ice, taking with it the Avatar – the last of the airbenders.
And the last hope for peace.
After this depressing read of a chapter, I have some good news.
I think I can crank out two more chapters before university starts next week.
PUBLISHED ON = 27 / 02 / 2019
REWRITTEN ON = 16 / 11 / 2020