Story [Avatar: The Last Airbender]Blowing in the Wind (Aang Pentathlon for the Winter Fanfiction Olympics)

Title: Blowing in the Wind

Author: devilinthedetails

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Genre: A medley of genres.

Characters: Aang; Monk Gyatso; Bumi; Zuko; Katara; Kuzon; Mai.

Summary: An anthology of stories written for my Aang Pentathlon as part of the 2022 Fanfiction Winter Olympics.

“How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, and how many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they’re forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind.
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.” -Blowin’ in the Wind, Bob Dylan

Index of Entries:

A Nomad has No Home. Kiss and Cry. Aang; Monk Gyatso. Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Drama. Post #2.

Like Flying. Single Sentence Ski Jumping. Aang; Katara. Romance; Fluff. Post #4.

Open Minds and Open Possibilities. Laughing Luge. Aang; Bumi. Humor; Friendship; Fluff. Post #7.

Broken Balance. AU Alpine Skiing. Aang; Monk Gyatso. AU; Drama; Angst. Post #9.

Unforgotten Friend. Scary Skeleton. Aang; Zuko; Katara; Kuzon; Mai. Horror; Drama; Angst; Mystery; Friendship. Post #11.

Pentathlon completed on 3/26/2022. Thread still always open for comments!

 

Title: A Nomad has No Home

Genre: Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Drama.

Characters: Aang; Monk Gyatso.

Event: Kiss and Cry.

Summary: Aang does not want to leave the Southern Air Temple and Monk Gyatso.

A Nomad has No Home

“I don’t want to be the Avatar.” Aang bit his lip, drawing his knees to his chest, as he perched like a baby bird reluctant to be thrown from the security of its nest for its first terrifying flight on the stone ledge of a terrace overlooking the gray clouds–misty mirrors of his mood–that encircled the mountain below the Southern Air Temple. The place where he had grown up and called home for as long as he could remember. The place from which he was being exiled all because he was the Avatar. A role that felt more like a curse than a blessing from the implacable, indifferent spirits that ruled their world. Spirits with which the Avatar was supposed to negotiate on behalf of mankind. “Not if it means leaving here.”

“You shouldn’t be so attached to anywhere in the world–however beautiful–that you cannot bear to leave it,” Monk Gyatso chided gently, settling onto the wall beside Aang. “You must work on your detachment, young one.”

“This place is my home.” Aang shook his head, feeling the wind blowing across his bald scalp. Chilling the bare skin with its ever-shifting currents.

“You are a nomad,” Monk Gyatso reminded him, calm as a meditation exercise. “Nomads have no homes. They live to travel wherever the wind takes them.”

“I don’t want to live only for travel.” Aang hugged his knees tighter against his chest, seeking refuge from a wind that had never felt hostile before. “I don’t want to go wherever the wind takes me as if I have no choice in the matter.”

“But you like to travel.” Monk Gyatso gazed at him with a teasing twinkle in his eyes. “Unless it is another Aang I am thinking of. Another Aang who enjoys nothing more than making mischief with Bumi in Omashu. Another Aang who loves to learn new Fire Nation dances from Kuzon.”

“I like to travel, but I like having a home too.” Frustrated that Monk Gyatso was missing his point, Aang sniffled and swiped at his dripping nose with the sleeve of his sunset orange robe. “And it’s not just this place that I’ll miss. It’s the people I’ll miss even more.”

When Monk Gyatso remained quiet and the only sound was the wind whistling through the space between them, he glanced at his mentor with watery eyes and added in a voice that could’ve been lost to the wind if Monk Gyato’s ears were less keen, “It’s you I’ll miss the most. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me.” Monk Gyatso wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I’ll be in your heart. Alive in your memory. You’ll remember me forever just as I’ll remember you. That is how it is when two spirits mark each other.”

Aang didn’t understand exactly what his teacher meant by two spirits marking each other but found some solace in the words as if the monk’s serenity were rubbing off on him.

 

@earlybird-obi-wan Once again, thank you so much for reading and commenting! Blowin' in the Wind is one of my absolute favorite Dylan songs because it is just so powerful and deep (it's been a favorite song of mine ever since I was a teenager), and I felt it was very reflective of Aang's character both in terms of his personality and the journey that he goes on so it makes me so happy to know that you are also a fan of the song and find it fitting for Aang

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Title: Like Flying

Genre: Romance; Fluff.

Characters: Aang; Katara.

Event: Single Sentence Ski Jumping

Summary: To Aang, kissing Katara feels like flying.

Like Flying

Kissing Katara felt like flying, high and free in the clear mountain air, on his glider.

 

@Emperor Ferus Thank you so much for reading and commenting, my friendOne of my favorite things about the hurt/comfort genre is that unique blend of sadness and sweetness it can produce, so I am so happy that you felt I achieved that balance with the scene featuring Monk Gyatso and Aang. I really have a soft spot for Monk Gyatso as Aang's mentor, and it is always beautiful and moving for me when I can integrate him into my fanfic.

@earlybird-obi-wan Thank you so much for faithfully reading and commenting on this story! I really wanted to capture that simple, exhilarating joy of kissing--of being in love--in that single sentence, so I am super pleased to hear that shone through for you.

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Title: Open Minds and Open Possibilities

Genre: Humor; Friendship; Fluff.

Characters: Aang; Bumi.

Event: Laughing Luge

Summary: A young Aang and Bumi ride the mail shoots of Omashu. An expansion of the flashback scene in "The King of Omashu" episode.

Open Minds and Open Possibilities

It had been months since Aang last visited Omashu. Last saw his friend, the city-state’s heir and prince Bumi.

He was eager to demonstrate the fun air-bending skills he had learned in that period of separation to Bumi.

“Look what I can do!” he exclaimed, snatching up six mangoes from the overflowing fruit bowls in his friend’s quarters.

They had barely been alone for five seconds, and, as Monk Gyatso would say, they were already starting to create mischief together. The thought brought an even broader grin to Aang’s face as he used his air-bending skills to juggle the mangoes through the air. Increasing the speed so the fruits became nothing more than slicing and circling orange blurs.

Bumi applauded this display, and, pleased with the reception this unveiling of his mastery of this newest air-bending technique, Aang grabbed some pears from the bowl and integrated them into his performance.

“Very impressive!” Bumi clapped and snorted his approval, revealing a tooth missing from some scrape he must have gotten into since the last time Aang saw him. Green eyes gleaming with apparent determination to outdo Aang in the competitive mischief-production industry, he added, “But not as impressive as what I’m about to show you!”

Distracted by this prospect of mischief and excitement, Aang abandoned his juggling, returning the mangoes and pears to their proper bowl, and allowing Bumi to drag him onto a balcony overlooking Omashu and the city’s extensive system of mail shoots. The Omashu communication network was second to none in the Earth Kingdom. Monk Gyatso had told him that once. The first time they had visited the city. Preparing Aang for the wonders of this ancient, mountain-surrounded jewel of the Earth Kingdom.

Leaping about in a wild caper, Bumi urged him to look around. Demanded to know what Aang saw. All in what felt like one breath.

Non-plussed, Aang replied in a flat, unenthusiastic tone, “Um, the mail system?”

The mail system simply wasn’t as interesting or impressive to him as it was to Bumi or Monk Gyatso. In fact, he considered it pretty overhyped at this point.

“Instead of seeing what they want you to see, you gotta open your brain to the possibilities.” Bumi waggled a finger and leaned close to Aang as if confiding a highly conspiratorial secret.

Mind still fixated on deliveries, Aang ventured tentatively, “A package sending system?”

Pumping his arms in the air, Bumi declared, “The world’s greatest super slide!”

Smiling at the insane sight his friend presented, Aang pronounced Bumi a mad genius.

Obviously delighted to be the honored recipient of this designation, Bumi laughed and snorted. Still laughing and snorting, he showed Aaang how to hop into a delivery crate. How to race down the shoot. Aang’s air-bending only made the twists and turns, the rises and falls, faster and more exhilarating.

When they reached the bottom of the shoot, they skidded to a halt. Crashing into an Omashu guard garbed in green. The sentry seemed both astonished and angry to discover two small boys emerging from a crate meant to contain mail. Not to mention miffed about being collided into, literally upsetting his dignity when he fell on unexpected impact.

“What are you lads doing?” The guard clutched his spear in a fashion that could only be described as menacing.

“I’m showing a visitor the wonders of Omashu.” Bumi’s bright smile didn’t dim as he beamed at the sentry. “Opening his mind to the possibilities!”

The guard relented. Sternness softening as he perhaps remembered the joy of being a spirited boy at play. Getting into trouble for the sheer, adrenaline-laced thrill of it all. Chuckling, he commented, “It’s good to have an open mind but not so open all thoughts fly out!”

Then he laughed and let them escape back to the palace without punishment. Without reporting them to Bumi’s father or Monk Gyatso.

The people of Omashu really were the friendliest and most understanding in the Earth Kingdom–maybe even in the entire world, Aang thought as he and Bumi returned to the palace. Stopping to buy some of Aang’s favorite egg custard tarts from a vendor along the way. Making the whole day taste sweet and creamy in Aang’s memory. Laughter and friendship merging in his mind and heart with the rich flavor and texture of egg custard tart on his tongue.

 

@earlybird-obi-wan As always, thank you so much for reading and commenting! I'm so glad that you enjoyed the mischief of the boys riding the mail crate and the friendly guard who could ultimately let them have their funThis was definitely a joy to write, although this upcoming chapter is much heavier and our Aang will far less carefree.

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Title: Broken Balance

Genre: AU; Drama; Angst.

Characters: Aang; Gyatso.

Event: AU Alpine Skiing

Summary: Aang is present for the Fire Nation attack on the Southern Air Temple, and history changes.

Broken Balance (AU Alpine Skiing)

Aang sat cross-legged on the floor of his gray monk’s cell. He didn’t allow himself the comfort of any cushion or mat. Preferring the penitent hardness of the stone floor beneath his bottom. Nor did he crack open a window for light or air.

He didn’t feel that he deserved the warmth and brightness of light when everything inside him was cold and dark. Devoid of hope. Neither did he want the free air whipping through his window. Striking at his face and bald head. Inviting him to fly with it on his glider. When he knew that the guilt and grief within him weighed him down too much for him to ever fly again. Only those with a clear conscience could soar through the air on the wings of the wind, and he was no longer one of those lucky souls with a clear conscience.

He was mired in remorse. Unable to even find solace in the meditation he had been taught since he was small. Since before he had been introduced to Appa.

There was no peace for him in meditation now because when he closed his eyes all he saw were the memories he wished more than anything that he could forget. Memories he wished he could render unreal.

Memories of the Fire Nation Army under the command of Fire Lord Sozin attacking the Southern Air Temple on dragon back. Of flaming red fireballs warring with whirling tornados as the Air Nomads fought only in self-defense–to preserve their lives and the lives of others. Of the dragons, realizing too-late what their riders were doing, and turning burning ire on the Fire Nation soldiers. Of Monk Gyatso shouting at Aang to hide deep in the temple with the other novices and acolytes.

Of disobeying Monk Gyatso and giving into a fury–a rage–that raised him into a transcendent state. Lifted him out of his body. Elevated him into what he instinctively and intuitively recognized as the Avatar State. The Avatar State where he could access and channel the power and wisdom of a thousand generations of his predecessors from all Four Nations.

The Avatar State that told him with chilling, appalling certainty that Fire Lord Sozin was seeking to conquer and break the world. Throw the elements out of balance. Destroy everything and everyone Aang loved.

So he drew on the world’s wrath and the power of a thousand generations of Avatars that had lived and died before him to break Sozin before Sozin could break the world.

His terrible tornado had swept Sozin off the mountain. A fall that had killed the Fire Lord. The Fire Nation’s army had retreated in chaos.

The Fire Nation, he had heard from Monk Gyatso, was ruled by a council of nobles until Sozin’s heir, a baby named Azulon who had been born the day the Southern Air Temple was attacked and Sozin had been killed came of age.

The uneasy peace of the world had been preserved but at a terrible price. The price of the peace within Aang. The balance of the elements had been maintained, but at the expense of the balance inside Aang.

When he tried to meditate, he heard the voice of the past Avatars whispering to him. Assuring him that he had done the right thing. The just thing. The necessary thing to preserve the peace and balance of the world.

He couldn’t believe that when he remembered the rage that had surged through him as he created a tornado to destory Sozin. When he recalled with remorse the violence he had perpetuated.

Surely peace, justice, and balance could not be preserved with such force.

He was the Avatar. He had saved the world, and he had never felt more alone. More miserable. More guilty and despairing.

A knock sounded on his door. Monk Gyatso’s knock. Aang could recognize the distinctive sound of it. Besides, Monk Gyatso was the only person who dared to visit him now. The only one who could bear to look him in the eyes after what he had done. After he had violated all the precepts of non-violence and become a monster like the one he had sought to defeat. After he had made everyone afraid of him and his uncontrollable fury.

“Come in,” Aang rasped. Hating how empty and raw his voice echoed in the room.

“You will have some sunlight and air in your cell.” Monk Gyatso stepped over to Aang’s window and opened it. Golden sunlight streamed in along with a wind that hammered against the mountain peaks and temple towers. “Like any living thing, you will die without sunlight and air.”

“I took a life.” Tears trickled down Aang’s cheeks. Tasting of salt and blood.

“Only in defense of other lives.” Monk Gyatso sat beside him. Hugging Aang to his chest. “That is not a crime. Even by Air Nomad standards, and an Avatar must transcend Air Nomad standards. Must understand and embody the nature and wisdom of all the elements. That is how balance is maintained in the world.”

“And this balance, it’s worth my suffering?” Aang sniffled and swiped at his tears with the sleeves of his orange robes. “My sorrow?”

“Balance is everything, Aang.” Monk Gyatso patted Aang’s head. Gentle and affectionate as ever. As if Aang hadn’t become a murderer. “So it is worth everything.”

 

@earlybird-obi-wan As always, thank you so much for reading and commenting! My heart did break for how much poor Aang was suffering in this piece Remorse can be such a hard thing to wrestle with and so can the great powers that an Avatar wields. I'm so glad that you thought the description of how he became the Avatar and balanced the world resonated with you because I tried really hard to get that section right and to convey the power of that moment and how Aang feels being swept up in this state he doesn't fully understand that gives him so much power to shape and define the world. This next story will unfortunately bring more suffering to Aang, but hopefully there will be some moving moments of friendship as well.

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Title: Unforgotten Friend

Genre: Horror; Drama; Angst; Friendship; Mystery.

Characters: Aang; Katara; Zuko; Kuzon; Mai.

Event: Scary Skeleton

Summary: Aang is determined to unravel the mystery of what happened to his friend Kuzon.

Unforgotten Friend (Scary Skeleton)

Aang and Katara–who was still only his girlfriend and not yet his wife, though Aang hoped to find the courage to propose to her soon–were welcomed to the Fire Nation as honored friends. All along the streets of the capital, the red and black flag of the Fire Nation flew alongside banners representing the Water Tribes and the Air Nomads. People cheered and threw handfuls of celebratory rice from gold-gilded balconies and crimson-tiled rooftops.

At the palace entrance, where Zuko and Mai formally received them, they were treated to a performance from a local school’s choir. In their tidy red-and-gold school uniforms, the assembled boys and girls–standing in perfect rows as all Fire Nation citizens seemed to learn to do as soon as they could walk–sang a medley of tunes designed to pay tribute to the diverse cultures of the Fire Nation, Water Tribes, and Air Nomads.

A traditional Fire Nation melody meant to evoke midsummer that Kuzon had taught him more than a hundred years ago. Sliding midway through into a Water Tribe harmony that sounded like waves crashing against a shore. Transitioning into a piece of Air Nomad music that echoed the sound of wind sweeping through high mountain passes. Then concluded with another Fire Nation song Aang heard as sunrise put into lyrics.

Silence filled the air following the last note. The students bowed. First to their Fire Lord and his wife. Then to Aang and Katara.

“The music was beautiful.” Katara smiled at the children. Drawing another bow from them as acknowledgement and appreciation for the praise.

“Very beautiful,” agreed Aang, wiping tears away from his eyes with the hem of his robes. In the Fire Nation, this might have appeared undignified, but Monk Gyatso had told him once that tears were the greatest compliment any music could ever receive, and Aang still carried the wisdom of his first mentor deep inside him, where it defined the very core of his being. Shaped his conscience. Defined his perception of right and wrong. Good and evil.

“We are glad you enjoyed the music.” Zuko bowed to Aang and Katara. Then gathered them both up into a fierce hug. “Welcome to the Fire Nation. We have missed you.”

“You make it sound like our last visit was years ago, not months ago,” Katara pointed out wryly.

“The music was really beautiful.” Aang was still captivated by the music that had spoken to his very soul. Capturing the elusive essence of three distinct Nations. Distilling them into song. “I hope you gave the children the rest of the day off. They earned a vacation.”

“Today is a holiday for the entire Fire Nation. We are celebrating the Avatar’s arrival.” Zuko grinned. Then added more formally, “Let me show you to the rooms I’ve had prepared for you.”

“He means,” Mai interjected tartly, “the rooms I’ve had prepared for you. Kindly don’t take credit for my accomplishments, husband. You have enough of your own without stealing mine.”

Despite the minor dispute about who deserved the lion’s share of the credit for preparing the rooms where Aang and Katara would stay throughout their visit, the Fire Lord and his wife escorted the two guests to a luxuriant suite of quarters. A sun-dappled parlor with its own balcony overlooked a courtyard garden. The parlor radiated into a dining room complete with a low mahogany table and silk cushions. Opposite the dining room was a well-stocked library. On either side of the library were two bedrooms with large, comfortable mattresses that promised sweet dreams and a peaceful night’s sleep.

In his bedroom, Aang could see that the open windows had been decorated with wind chimes that tinkled in the mild breeze. A corner of Katara’s room contained a burbling rock fountain.

There was the distinct aroma of spicy chicken skewers with ginger sauce and scallions emanating from the dining room. Aang followed his sense of smell and plopped into a cushion. Devouring his first chicken skewer, he was pleased when Katara, Zuko, and Mai joined him.

“Delicious.” Aang chewed enthusiastically through a second skewer. Barely pausing to dip it into the ginger sauce and scallions. “Kuzon and I used to love these.”

Mentioning and remembering Kuzon multiple times in one day made Aang curious about the fate of his old friend.

“I wonder what happened to him,” he added more meditatively, licking ginger sauce from his fingers before Katara could insist that he utilize a much more appropriate napkin.

“He lived a hundred years ago.” Katara’s voice was gentle as water healing a wound, and Aang realized that, for once, her mind wasn’t on his table manners or woeful lack thereof. “There’s every possibility that he’s dead, Aang.”

“He doesn’t have to be dead.” Aang shook his head. “My friend Bumi is still alive. There’s a chance Kuzon could still be alive too. That I could reconnect with him. Find out everything he’s been up to in the past century or so.”

“In the Fire Nation, we honor the wisdom of those who have attained the wisdom of advanced age.” Zuko’s gold eyes were soft with compassion. “The Fire Lord sends a personal note of congratulations to every subject over ninety on his or her birthday. I have never written such a note of congratulations to anyone by the name of Kuzon. I’m afraid Katara is right. Your old friend seems to no longer be among the living.”

Aang ducked his head. He had been prepared to that possibility–his mind had been open to it as Bumi would have phrased it so many years ago when they rode down the Omashu mail chute together–but he had held out hope that it might be otherwise. Still, he might be able to discover the life Kuzon had led after Aang vanished from the world for over a century. Learn if Kuzon had married and had any children that might have produced grandchildren. Perhaps Aang could meet those children and grandchildren. Exchange stories and memories of Kuzon with them.

“I would still like to learn what happened to him.” Aang found it difficult to speak. Mourning an old friend lost a hundred years ago. “Whether he married. Had children. Grandchildren.”

“The Fire Nation has very comprehensive records on all of its citizens,” Katara observed.

“The most detailed in the world.” There was a ring of pride in Mai’s voice. “We should be able to uncover, through our records, what became of Kuzon and his descendents.”

“His school records seem a good place to start.” Zuko stroked at his chin, where, in true Fire Lord fashion, he was attempting to grow a beard. “Do you remember where Kuzon attended school, Aang?”

“Of course I can’t.” Aang scrunched up his forehead in a futile effort to recall this piece of trivia. “It was a hundred years ago. How do you expect me to remember that?”

“Do you at least remember what island he was from or is that beyond your powers to recall too?” Mai, even when trying to be helpful, had a knack for making every question sound condescending. Withering.

“Ma’inka Island.” Aang remembered the name. How it had danced like music on his tongue. “The northeast of it. A small village named Hikone.”

“Hikone.” Mai drummed perfectly clipped and manicured fingers against the low table. She had a sharp mind that made up for her sharp tongue. Occasionally at least. “That would be served by the twelfth district school on Ma’inka.”

“It’s a starting point for our investigation at any rate.” Zuko nodded to his wife. Then turned to Aang. “We can leave at dawn tomorrow if you would like.”

Everyone from the lowliest servant to the Fire Lord rose early–awakening with the sun. Aang was too accustomed to that behavior to protest it now, so his objection was a different one. “Don’t you have other business and events scheduled for us? I don’t want to disrupt your plans.”

“This is important to you. I can tell.” Zuko leaned forward. The passion and determination of the Fire Nation in his expression. “That matters more than any state banquets and meetings that can always be re-scheduled. We will find out what happened to your old friend, Aang.”

“Thank you, Zuko.” Aang reached across the table to clasp the hand of a man who had once been an enemy who sought to hunt him down and now was a treasured friend. A precious ally in restoring lost balance to the world. “You are a good friend.”

Zuko flushed but made a dismissive gesture with the hand Aang wasn’t holding. “You are a friend of the Fire Nation. It is the least we can do. Figure out the fate of your old friend.”

The next day, they did indeed depart at dawn. Aang and Katara flying on Appa’s back. Zuko mounting his loyal young dragon Druk. Mai remained at the palace to attend to political affairs in the Fire Lord’s absence. Sunrise painted the ocean waves below them orange and mango as they rode through the air, inhaling the salt and brine as they set their course for Ma’inka Island.

The sun continued to climb in the sky. Burning Aang’s exposed neck. Reflecting off the ocean. Shining blindingly bright in his eyes. Covering his back with sweat.

Given the unrelenting nature of the sun overhead, it was a relief to reach Ma’inka Island shortly before noon. They landed in the village square before the expansive twelfth district school and were instantly greeted by a bowing guard, who stuttered, “Fire Lord, we are honored by your presence. We did not know you would be visiting us today–”

“Please take us to see the headmaster.” Zuko’s interruption seemed to be his way of taking pity on the stammering guard.

“Of course. This way please.” The guard bowed again and then began to lead Aang, Zuko, and Katara through the main doors of the school down a hallway lined with classrooms where students in straight rows were made to memorize and recite information in the disciplined fashion that characterized every aspect of the Fire Nation education system. That emphasized obedience and conformity above all else. Above creativity, self-expression, and critical thinking. Questions and debate would not be encouraged in this environment. Aang could feel the oppressiveness of that weighing down his shoulder blades even before they came to the headmaster’s office, where the guard knocked and announced the Fire Lord’s arrival with a shout.

The headmaster opened the door. Waved a hand at the guard. “Dismissed.” Bowed to his Fire Lord, Aang, and Katara. “Fire Lord and esteemed foreigners, we did not know you would be honoring us with a visit today. We can arrange a tour of the school. Perhaps with some of our most promising pupils who will be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Zuko smiled. “There is no reason to remove your most promising pupils from class, headmaster. My companions and I wish to review some of your school’s old records.”

“Some of our old records.” The headmaster only appeared more anxious after Zuko’s smile. “In all the years that I have run this school, our standard has never been anything but the highest. We have ranked first on the island for fifteen years in a row and have been listed in the top five percent of all Fire Nation schools for the past twenty years. All our records indicate that the school has performed exceptionally under my tenure.”

“I have no doubt they do,” Zuko answered. “We are interested in records from before your tenure.”

“Before my tenure?” The headmaster repeated. His confusion plainly continuing to experience exponential growth.

“From about a hundred years ago, to be more precise.” Zuko nodded. “Our area of focus would be individual student files from approximately a century ago. Would you be able to show us where those might be?”

“Of course we maintain such records as the law requires.” The headmaster plucked at his beard. “Student files that old would be in the basement, however. They are likely very dusty.”

“Dust is nothing to worry about,” chirped Aang. Cheerful and imbued with the hope that he might soon know what had happened to Kuzon. That he might learn what life his friend had led. The very thought made him feel closer to Kuzon. As if a century and death didn’t separate them. Couldn’t separate them. Not when they had enjoyed such a deep friendship rooted in wild fun and unabashed joy. Not when they had shared a thousand jokes and laughter that made their ribs ache. Not when they had danced and sang together. Not when they had munched through packets of Fire Flakes as they sat side-by-side, ears and mouths smoking. “A little sneezing fit never harmed anyone.”

With a stiff bow, the headmaster led them out of his office. Down the corridor to a door at the far end. A door he unlocked and swung open to reveal a winding stone staircase that twisted down into bookcases laden with folders of heavy documents. With a flick of his fingers, he lit the torches in brackets spaced at even intervals along the stairwell and the basement walls.

“Individual student files from a hundred years ago should be at the far end of the fifth row of bookshelves,” the headmaster informed them. “Do you require my assistance or would you prefer to search alone?”

“We can search alone.” Zuko gave the headmaster a farewell nod. “Thank you for all your help. I understand you must have other duties to attend to. Please feel free to do so now.”

Once the headmaster had disappeared, Aang, Zuko, and Katara descended the staircase into a basement that felt increasingly dusty as they delved deeper into it. As promised by the headmaster, they did indeed discover the student files from a hundred years ago at the far end of the fifth row.

“I hope you remember Kuzon’s family name.” There was a faintly teasing edge to Zuko’s remark.

“Of course I do.” Aang flipped through the folders bearing student names–arranged in alphabetical order–until he came across Kuzon’s files, which he pulled from the shelf to see a portrait of Kuzon’s plump face grinning impishly up at him from the first page. A grin that made it hard to believe that the one giving it was dead. Gone from the world. Never to smile at anything ever again.

Moving onto the second page, Aang studied it with a frown. In the torchlight, he struggled to read the Fire Nation script for a moment before thrusting the documents at Zuko. “You read it. You know Fire Nation characters better than me.”

“It’s teacher reports.” Zuko gazed down at the paper. “They say that Kuzon is quick-witted and clever if a bit rambunctious in class. He creates some trouble but is never mean-spirited.”

“That sounds just like Kuzon.” Aang’s features cracked into a reminiscent grin. “The two of us got into so much mischief together, but we weren’t mean-spirited about it. Good old Kuzon. He didn’t have a mean-spirited bone in his body.”

“What does the next page say?” That was Katara. Eager as he was to unravel this mystery of what had befallen his friend.

“It’s a compilation of his scores on year end tests. Nothing too exciting.” Zuko moved onto the next page. “Now it gets interesting, though. It’s a disciplinary record.”

“A disciplinary record?” Aang’s tone had gone flat as a tuneless temple bell. He didn’t like the sound of that at all. Fire Nation discipline always sounded menacing to him.

“Whenever a student is punished, it must be recorded.” Zuko swallowed. “The details of the student’s transgression must be written down as must the punishment received and the person who delivered the punishment.”

“What did Kuzon do to be punished?” That was Katara again. Speaking when Aang suddenly found it difficult to do so.

“I’ll just read from the record, shall I? It’ll be easier.” As Aang wondered who it would be easier, Zuko went on with the dispassionate words of the official disciplinary record from Kuzon’s files, “ ‘When the the new mandatory morning oath to the Fire Lord Sozin and our glorious nation all students will henceforth be required to recite was introduced, Kuzon refused to stand and speak it with the rest of the class. He defiantly declared that his hands might be small, but they weren’t the Fire Lord’s. They were his own, and he would use them as he wanted. As he chose. Those hands were whipped six times each with the bamboo rod. Punishment was decided and issued by the headmaster of the twelfth district school on the eleventh day of the seventh month–”

“I’ve heard enough,” Aang snapped. Glaring at Zuko. Venting all his pain and rage at the punishment that had been inflicted on his friend so long ago on the man that currently embodied the Fire Nation and all its strict, merciless ethos. Its harsh discipline. Its demands of unquestioning obedience from its own children. “The Fire Nation oath. Do students still have to recite that rubbish in schools, Zuko?”

“I–” Zuko hesitated. “I suppose they do. I never gave an order rescinding the requirement to recite the Fire Nation oath every morning in schools.”

“Why not?” Aang crossed his arms over his heaving chest.

“Because I just didn’t think of it,” Zuko snarled. The torches on the walls rising with his flaring temper. “There’s been a lot more major wrongs for me to make right as Fire Lord that I had to focus on, and I can’t fix everything at once. I may be the Fire Lord, but I’m only human.”

“You’re making excuses!” Aang felt a tornado whirling inside him. “You just like all the little Fire Nation boys and girls having to pledge their allegiance to you and the Fire Nation to you every morning! You like having that power over them!”

“Calm down, Aang.” Katara laid a soothing hand on his arm. Intervening before Zuko could retort. “Don’t you want to learn what happened to Kuzon?”

“Yes.” Aang maintained his glare on Zuko. “I want to hear what else the Fire Nation did to him.”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Zuko was biting his lip as he looked down at the next page in Kuzon’s file. “It’s not pretty, Aang.”

“Few things are pretty about the Fire Nation, and when the Fire Nation does manage to produce something pretty, it always ends up being destroyed.” Aang’s jaw clenched. “I can bear the ugliness, Zuko. I’m used to it.”

“Very well.” Zuko’s mouth was thin. A sign of barely contained anger. Simmering rage at how Aang persisted in insulting his country, no doubt. “The next page is another disciplinary record.”

“Ah.” Aang snorted. Rolled his eyes. “What did Kuzon do to run afoul of the Fire Nation education system this time?”

Zuko’s response again came in the distant language of the official disciplinary record: “‘When his teacher assigned an essay on the treachery of the Air Nomads who plotted to attack the Fire Nation with their secret armies and navies, Kuzon composed a piece insisting that the Air Nomads were a peaceful people. One sworn to non-violence who could not possibly have a hidden army or navy. When the errors in his paper were pointed out to him, he staunchly stuck to the veracity of his account. Even when warned that doing so meant opposing the official account of Fire Nation history and contradicting the judgement of Fire Lord Sozin himself. For his obstinacy that he has been cautioned borders dangerously close to treason, Kuzon received a dozen lashes from the heavy rod on his bare backside. The strokes were administered by the headmaster. The skin split. There was much bleeding, and scars are expected. It is hoped that this beating will break his rebellious spirit. If it does not, he may need to be assigned to the coal mines for re-education. His parents have been advised to reign him in if they value their son being around to support them in their old age.’”

“They beat him bloody.” Aang felt sick to his stomach. As if he might vomit all over the bookcases of student files. Student files that no doubt listed a thousand more accounts of egregious child abuse from people who called themselves teachers. Beings who were supposed to be mentors but who had in reality been nothing more than monsters. “Just for speaking the truth.”

“At least he wasn’t burned on the face by his own father.” Zuko jerked a thumb at his own scarred visage.

“Are we really playing another game of who the Fire Nation hurt worse?” Katara gave an admonishing shake of her head. “Because it’s no fun and everyone loses whenever we play it.”

“No.” Aang pinched the bridge of his nose. Feeling a headache coming on. Sensing that the story in Kuzon’s student files didn’t have a happy ending after all. That he was about to listen to the final sad act in a tragedy. “Go on, Zuko. Tell me what horror befell Kuzon next.”

Zuko obliged. Once again reading from an official disciplinary report. It amazed Aang in a dark way how unashamedly the Fire Nation could write unvarnished accounts of the abuse they had inflicted on their children. He supposed they could only do so because they didn’t see their cruelty as wrong but as right. As necessary and justified discipline. As the price to be paid for living in an orderly society and conquering the world.

“‘This afternoon at lunch, Kuzon was caught distributing pamphlets that questioned Fire Lord Sozin’s war in the Earth Kingdom and establishing colonies to spread the glorious civilization of our enlightened homeland to the barbarians that live elsewhere.’” Aang felt a strange, roiling combination of admiration for Kuzon’s courage in the face of a tyrannical government, and fear at what punishment his brave friend would be subjected to next as Zuko read from the disciplinary record. “‘Such sedition will not be tolerated from a student at this school. Kuzon has been expelled and assigned to the Iwate coal mines for re-education. His train to the Iwate coal mines is scheduled to depart in three days. He will be locked in prison until that time to avoid infecting others with his treason. He will not be granted the opportunity to say farewell to his family. A histronic goodbye from tearful parents could create an undesirable public disturbance. This punishment is carried out by the headmaster with the due sanction of the civil authorities who have approved Kuzon’s transfer to the coal mines of Iwate and arranged for his transportation to facilitate his re-education.”

“Sent to the coal mines for re-education.” Tears stang Aang’s eyes. Clouding his vision. “What are the odds of a child surviving that?”

“Very low.” Zuko’s reply was blunt. Stark in its honesty that made Aang’s mind reel with grief at the fate that had befallen Kuzon. At the realization that Kuzon was yet another casualty of a war Aang should have prevented. That Aang, in his own fashion, was as much at fault for Kuzon’s demise as the Fire Nation he was finding it so hard not to despise right now. Even though Kuzon had been from the Fire Nation. “A child would likely be killed in an accident or from lung rot in a couple of years. Especially since the Fire Nation all but starved the citizens it sent to toil in the coal mines. The citizens sent to the coal mines were viewed as troublesome, you see. Keeping them alive wasn’t a high priority. What work they could be forced to give the Fire Nation before they died was regarded as the only service these worthless ones could offer the Fire Nation. Their lives were to be sacrifices to the war effort. To the march of industrial progress.”

“Progress that set the world back a hundred years.” Aang’s bitterness couldn’t be suppressed. He would speak his mind. Just like his friend Kuzon. He wouldn’t be silent. His way of remembering and honoring a fallen friend.

“I am not defending what happened to your friend.” Zuko massaged his temples. Sounding weary. “Only explaining what I think happened to him and why. I’m trying to give you the answers you wanted. You can’t blame me if those answers are unpleasant. The truth is often unpleasant.”

“Are there death records from the Iwote coal mines?” Katara murmured. “Anything that might give Aang closure?”

Closure. The word reverberated oddly in Aang’s skull. How could there be closure in knowing that his friend had died in an accident or of lung rot in a dark, sooty coal mine? Had been an unwilling sacrifice to the Fire Nation’s war effort and ruthless devotion to progress at all costs. Had been shipped away from his parents to toil and die in dreamless drudgery without even the chance for a hug and kiss goodbye. Had paid the ultimate price for courage and truth. Had advocated for peace and justice in a country that hadn’t wanted to hear about either. Had stood up against a government that had brutally squashed him as if he were an ant on the ground. No, there could be no comfort and closure in that. Only endless horror and revulsion.

“There are always records to be found in the Fire Nation.” From what sounded like a million miles away, Zuko responded to Katara’s question. “Births. Deaths. Academic progress. Discipline. It is all written out in detail for future generations to judge and examine.”

Neither Aang nor Katara said anything to that.

Zuko returned Kuzon’s file to the shelf and strode toward the staircase. “Come. We’ve learned all we can discover here. Let’s get back to the palace.”

Aang was still mourning Kuzon’s fate in the quarters he shared with Katara when, two days later, Zuko appeared in their parlor with a piece of paper Aang had the eerie foreboding that he wouldn’t want to read because it would shatter him.

“I found proof of Kuzon’s death.” Zuko addressed Aang in a hushed voice as if he sensed Aang was on the cusp of breaking like glass. “It was a mining accident that took his life. Six months after he arrived at the Iwate coal mines. He was only thirteen years old when he died. I’m sorry. I apologize on behalf of myself and the entire Fire Nation.”

“You apologize.” Blood pounded like a war drum in Aang’s head. Pulsed through him with a blazing ire. “What good is an apology? What would an apology mean to you if it was your friend beaten and sent off to the coal mines without a chance to say goodbye to his family? What would it mean to you if your friend spent his last days in misery and was dead before his fourteenth birthday? Would an apology be worth anything to you?”

“Aang,” Katara scolded before Zuko could speak. “Zuko is not to blame for what happened to Kuzon. He was not the leader of the Fire Nation at the time. Sozin was. You can’t confuse the two.”

“I represent the Fire Nation and its past crimes.” Zuko emitted a resigned sigh. “It’s only natural that I will be a lightning rod for blame and pain. Don’t worry about it, Katara. I can handle criticism, and I have heard worse.”

“Where–” Aang demanded, hollow and broken– “is Kuzon’s body buried so I can pay my respects?”

“In the Fire Nation, we cremate our dead.” Zuko’s answer was not at all satisfying. Immensely frustrating, in fact. “You know that, Aang.”

“Where are his ashes buried then?” Aang’s voice rose.

“Nowhere.” There was an apology and grief in Zuko’s eyes, but Aang found it hard to forgive him. Forgive the Fire Nation for its manifold crimes against the world. Especially against those Aang had loved a hundred years ago. Those not alive to forgive the Fire Nation for themselves. Because who was Aang to absolve the Fire Nation in their name when they were no longer around to do so for themselves because of the Fire Nation? It was a confusing tangle. A knot he couldn’t untie no matter how he tried. “His ashes were scattered in the wind long ago. The ashes of traitors and criminals are always scattered in the wind so they can’t be honored. So their graves can’t become breeding grounds of revolt.”

“So it wasn’t enough to kill him?” Aang didn’t know whether it was more rage or grief that made him cry. Or if the two emotions were dark mirrors of each other. Flipped sides of the same bleak, bitter coin. “His remains had to be dishonored too?”

“Mai and I have been talking.” Zuko reached out. Grasped Aang’s shoulder. Aang didn’t pull away even if Zuko did represent the Fire Nation it was so easy and tempting to hate in that moment. “We would like to build a monument to Kuzon in his hometown. To honor his courage and sacrifice. To remember what happened to him so it won’t occur again. It’s time the Fire Nation celebrated its true heroes like Kuzon. Time that children learned about them in school.”

“Will you make sure his monument is dancing and laughing?” Dancing and laughing, Aang thought. That was how Kuzon would want to be remembered by the generations that followed him. Dancing and laughing. That had been what Kuzon loved the most. What brought him the greatest joy.

“You can make sure of that yourself.” Zuko smiled. “We want you to help preside over the building of the monument since you knew him best. And we’d like you to be there at the monument’s unveiling.”

The memory of Kuzon had been what had first made him believe that friendship with Zuko was possible. That Zuko could be redeemed. Aang recalled that now. Cracked an answering grin. “Kuzon would be happy to know I still have friends in the Fire Nation a hundred years after his death.”

“You’ll always have friends in the Fire Nation,” Zuko assured him. “And you’ll always be a friend of the Fire Nation.”

 

@earlybird-obi-wan As always, thank you so much for reading and commenting on this pentathlon! It was very moving for me to write about Aang discovering all the horrible things that happened to Kuzon. This story started as me being curious what happened to Kuzon myself (since we learn what happened to Bumi but not Kuzon), and I got to thinking that Kuzon as a friend of Aang's who knew Air Nomads were peaceful might have been someone who would stand up against the violent conquest of the Fire Nation and end up suffering for it. So it ended up feeling true to what I could envision Kuzon's character to be. I also really wanted to show Aang's loyalty in terms of wanting to learn more about Kuzon's life after he had disappeared from the world a hundred years ago. And absolutely it became an opportunity to explore how a redeemed Zuko can set about redeeming some of the evil that the Fire Nation had done in the world. There was a lot of horror in the story because of the Scary Skeleton element, but also I hope a sense of enduring friendship and the hope for redemption and a better future where the horrors of the past don't have to be repeated.

@Emperor Ferus Thank you so much for reading and commenting, my friend!I'm so glad that you thought this was a great entry. It was definitely a dark and gritty story. One that really tore at my heart to write since it hurt me a lot to think of what Kuzon suffered and went through. I really wanted this pentathlon to be able to explore two facets of Aang that didn't get much screen time in the series: the first being his relationships with people like Monk Gyatso, Bumi, and Kuzon from when he was living a hundred years ago (since those connections are hinted at but it was nice to be able to delve into them more) and an angrier side to him rooted in all the pain and trauma he has experienced. All the loss he has gone through. I would say the last two pieces in particular give a glimpse of a darker Aang but also one who has suffered immensely. I also felt a great deal of empathy for Zuko in the last piece because he very much is struggling as ruler of the Fire Nation to right the wrongs as best he can and still has his own sufferings and traumas to come to terms with. Neither Aang nor Zuko has led an easy life, and I think when they can remember that about each other and have compassion for each other, they can have some of their best and purest moments of friendship.

 

@Nehru_Amidala Thank you so much for reading and commenting on my Aang Pentathlon! I agree that the path of the Avatar is never easy. Filled with highs and lows, friends and enemies, made along the way. Plus Aang has to wrestle with his own dark side in a way and face the traumas he has experienced and that is always a challenging thing for anyone (Avatar or not) to do. So that made this collection of stories a fascinating one for me to write. There was humor, peace, and friendship, but there was also sorrow, violence, and anger. It just felt like a whole spectrum of human emotion could be explored through Aang and his experiences and that was very engaging for me as a writer. So I am so glad the highs and lows of Aang's journey resonated with you so much. Thank you again for the kind words! I really appreciate it

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Thank you so much for reading and commenting on my Aang Pentathlon! One of the things I love most about the Olympic events is the opportunity to express such a range of different moods with the different challenges, and it is awesome to hear that you felt that range of moods was so superbly present in this pentathlon. I really wanted to show a sampling of the events and people that shaped Aang both before and after the TV series in terms of Monk Gyatso's warm mentorship, the wild fun that Aang engages with alongside Bumi as a small boy, and then the more serious, darker discoveries Aang makes about Kuzon's tragic fate. It was really interesting for me to delve into Aang's character and the relationships that he had with other characters in this fic, and I'm so happy that you enjoyed reading it