Heads or Tails

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Book 1 – Arin's Tale

I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or Legend of Korra or any of the characters. Only the OC's.

Chapter 1: Leave It All Behind

POV: ?

Time: 170 A.G.

I know this scent all too well. The smell of sea salt was strong as the waves lap over my fingertips, over and over, licking my stinging wounds. The salt was mixed with something else, but I couldn't make out what it could be. The sound of the waves was so quiet. If I had to guess, it must be nighttime by now with how peaceful the waves were. The feeling of the water, nice and cool. It reminds me so much of home. My old home, at least. Although I haven't been there in years, the scent was all too well known to me, traced into my mind. What wasn't familiar, however, was the grains of sand that were rubbing between my fingertips and laying beneath me. I don't even have to look at it to know. We don't have sand in the Water Tribe.

If somebody were to pass by, they would assume I was asleep. I had just woken up a few moments ago, lying on the sandy beach as the gentle waves kept hitting my feet, reaching up to my hands at their highest peak before descending back into the ocean. But I stay there, motionless. Couldn't even bear to open my eyes. Just the smallest movement, even a twitch of a finger, breathing, or moving my eyelids would send a signal of pain throughout my whole body; sometimes a groan would slip out as it was too much to handle. But I wasn't going to bother healing myself, I don't deserve it. Not after everything I've done.

I'm not sure how long I've been laying there; minutes, hours. Wouldn't even be surprised if a day had gone by considering how weak I was or how thirsty I felt according to my cracked tongue. Although I'll have to get up sooner or later, or else I might get pulled in by the tide. And I wouldn't dare fight that. Waterbender or not, pain is still pain and water is still water. You don't ever fight it. The ocean always seems to have a mind of its own.

It feels like I've used every amount of strength I've ever had, and I'm not even sure on what. All my muscles are screaming, aching. Burning.

Burning…

The scent is what brought me back from before. Now I recognize this smell. Along with the sea salt, was a hint of smoke. A smell of gasoline burning, ashes falling down in little flecks on my face from the burning wood, causing me to sneeze and pain shoots throughout a hundred times over that it took everything in me not to scream.

My breathing became heavier, and it seems like I have no choice but to open my eyes. If that is smoke, who knows how close the fire is, or how far it could spread. I had to blink several times until the blurriness went away.

Seems like I was right about the peacefulness. It was nighttime, the stars shine in the night sky and dotted throughout the darkness in little specks. Blots of smoke clouds were faded but still visible. But it was nothing compared to the big, bright, full moon that illuminated the sky up above. Maybe it was what saved me from the explosion and brought me to shore. Thinking that for some reason I deserve a second chance. Something that I would never understand. I was supposed to die, I deserve the pain and suffering. Everyone thinks so. And who could blame them? Because I did the same to them.

My body is screaming not to, but my mind is telling me to get up. After taking several deep breaths, I force myself up. It was terribly slow, moving inch by inch, limb by limb, but I was able to eventually push myself up into a sitting position. At least there are no broken bones, that I might have to heal.

I was so weak. Just trying to sit up took a few minutes. It took my breath away, and then a wave of dizziness came over me. It didn't take long for me to hunch over and begin retching out whatever left I had in my empty stomach. Now I know why I was so breathless. When it was all gone, it took me a moment to control myself and stop gasping for air. The spots in my vision went away afterward. Whether it was from being so weak, or from inhaling so much saltwater and smoke. Whatever the reason, it won that battle.

There was a rock next to me, so I lean against it for support and look out into the distance. The trail of smoke and ashes led out over the water and ends about a mile offshore. At the end of the smoke trail, was a small speck of orange light. It took no genius to know what that was. Fire. And I didn't have to squint to figure out what it was that was on fire. After all, that's what caused these injuries in the first place. And it's what took my only family left. If they still thought of me as family in those last moments. It ached so much to think about my brother. The last bit of family I had left, was gone.

I'd cry if there were any water left in my body, but I was so dehydrated, there was nothing left to spill. My pounding headache told me so.

I did love him, but all those times with our father, how he treated us as puppets, his minions to do his dirty work, training us to become bloodbending maniacs like him, it destroyed whatever ounce of brotherhood and memories we had left. And snatched away whatever was left that made me feel human. It changed me; it changed us. So, we could become just like him. I'm not sure about my brother, having not kept up with his life in the big city, but I sure did in the outcome.

I tried to make a difference, tried to do things right, to prevent people like him from ever treating people like their little minions ever again. Like they were inferior to him. However, in the end, it turns out, I became just like him. I was him. I was just too blind by my power to see it. It became too clear once Avatar Korra came to the city, once my brother returned, and when the boat exploded and burst into flames, taking everything with it, including him. It took everything. But me.

Further into the distance, on my left, I could see Air Temple Island. No bison's in the air, no gliders or airbenders flying around, it looked so peaceful as if it were asleep. They probably were since I have no clue how late it was. From the position of the moon, I have to say it's only a few hours before daylight breaks.

Behind it, the outline of Avatar Aang's statue could be seen. And the lights of Republic City shine through the dusky air in the background. My home. Or that's what it used to be.

How could I ever go back? No one would accept me. After everything I've done. They would celebrate if they thought I was dead. If I were gone from their lives, forever.

I destroyed people's livelihoods, destroyed their homes, and nearly tore away their future, their way of living. I changed bending and the benders themselves. No benders thought they were safe as long as the equalists were around. And non-benders thought of benders as nothing but threats, like they were waiting to be pounced on.

People joined me, the Equalists, manipulating them into thinking what they were doing was right. Having them believe in the so-called cause they were fighting for was for the good of the world. They thought I was one of them. A non-bender, just like them. They thought I was someone who knew and understood their pain, someone who was trying to make a difference; and I was, just the wrong way of doing it.

They fought for me, chanted my name in the streets, causing riots and chaos in the whole of Republic City. I took down the police force and the government in which my dear brother was involved in.

My brother. My own brother. I took his bending away, along with so many others. I took away everything he worked for. And for what? To save him from becoming just like our father? To save everyone from being hurt by someone like him, to prevent anyone from rising in power as he did? Like I did? No. In the end, none of it matters. Because I became him. Everything I worked so hard on just to keep it from happening ever again was all a waste in the end. I was exactly like him. Manipulating, using my power against them once they disagree with me. And just like him, I went after the Avatar. Bullied her, mocked her, tortured, bloodbended. Tried to break her. And like my brother, I took her bending away. Most of it at least; how she was able to airbend, I will never know.

Poor Korra, she was just a kid. Like I was when I was younger. We both had to make tough decisions at such a young age. An age when she should enjoy her fun and spend time with friends and family, not saving the world and have the responsibility of everyone's life in her hands. Not fighting a man who had an awful view of the world. Or a fourteen-year-old waterbender who had to choose between his own life or his father's. In the end, after all the madness, after all the chaos, destruction, pain and suffering I caused, I never did achieve my goal. I did quite the opposite.

Instead, the only thing I caused was pain to myself. The cuts and bruises up and down my arms and face prove it. Everything I did in Republic City, only came back to haunt me. It cost my brother, it cost me pain and suffering, trauma, and regret that will never go away. But most of all, it cost me myself. I lost the true meaning of who I was during my travels, during my mission. When I thought I had everything, when I thought I had the world, I lost it all.

So no, I could never go back, not after what I did. I deserve this pain, I deserve to lose, I deserve to hide away forever. But he did not deserve to lose his life. It was my fault for everything, not his.

I was shaking, not from the small breeze that came by, but from exhaustion. The stress, regret, the pain, both mentally and physically. I wasn't trying to be strong, but I was too dehydrated to do anything else. This was all too much. I don't know how long I stayed there, staring into the distance at the faded city. An hour at the most.

With a deep breath, I muster up as much strength as I can. It takes a few tries and having to use the rock as support, but I was finally able to stand on my own two feet. My legs were so weak and wobbly, it was a challenge to keep my balance. The numbness soon begins to fade, and in its place was a tingling sensation. Each step, small steps, I took back up the beach was like stepping on small needles. A lot of pain, but I still refuse to heal myself. I need to understand the suffering, of all the pain I had caused. I can suck it up for a little while. It ought to heal up on its own after a little while from the looks of it. None of the cuts was anything serious and weren't deep. From the feel of it so far, still no broken bones.

Up from the beach stood tall pine trees, a luxurious and wild forest that was a welcoming sight aside from the peaceful waves that had awoken me. They could hide me away for a while. But as I was only a few yards away from reaching the end of the sand, my foot hit something. And as I look down to see what it could be, I regret it instantly. It was a mask. Not just any ordinary mask, though. It was one that everyone knew. White paint covers the front with a large red dot on the forehead. The sign of the Equalists.

It's supposed to be a mask to signify a leader, someone with great strength who can accomplish many things. The narrow eyes holes in the mask, however, indicates a coward, a weakling, a failure. The only accomplishment it ever created was fear. It's for someone who hides from their past. And still is.

This mask symbolizes everything I created in my time in Republic City: destruction, riots, anger, fear, fights, dividing the benders and the non-benders, breaking families apart, and nearly wiping out the bending world as they know it. This mask, is a symbol of my life, during young and previous times. It was a symbol of evil.

Well, no more.

It was time for me to move on, for me to let go. To become someone else. Someone that was me, but wasn't me. I can still grieve, I can still regret it all, but I need to keep going. It's time for a new life, it's time for a new me. No more fighting, no more leadership, no more of living in the past. If the world thinks I'm dead, I could start over. But where to?

The sound of the woods echoes in my ears, causing me to lift my head to that precious forest. Now that I was a ways away from the water, it was a little clearer this time. The chirping of the crickets, the hoot of the owl-hawks. Even the fire-moths were lighting a small path as if they were welcoming me into their home. To give me a start on my new adventure. And how could I ignore that call? I have nothing left to hold me back. No family, no friends, no mask as I walk away from it and leave it in the sand. Nothing was keeping me from moving forward, from walking into those woods. I don't need to worry about anyone finding the mask. The tide will swipe it away later. If someone were to find it later on, they would just assume that I was gone for good. And I am, or at least that person is.

My feet begin to pick up easier once I was now on firmer ground, away from the sandy beach and onto the soft, green grass. My body still ached but moving around was much easier. It helps to move around more. I was one step away from entering the woods when I stop.

This was it, the moment of a new beginning. A new life. I turn once more to look at the beach and just stare. Air Temple Island, the statue, Republic City, the smoking boat that holds my brother's remains. It was the last time I was going to see it all. Hopefully for forever. And I give it a small nod, as if I were saying goodbye, and thanking it for giving me a second chance and for showing me the ways of my problems. So, I turn once more, facing the woods, and take the first step inside the many rows of trees. It was certainly a breath of fresh air. I was going to start a new life. I had to start anew.

For myself, for my past, my future, and for the only one I considered family…

For Tarrlok.