original

Avatar the Last Airbender: Cyclone

Chương 1: Humble Beginnings

The year was 85AG when the fate of the three remaining nations would change forever.

During a particularly dangerous windstorm in late fall, a small baby boy was born. The boy had a soft tuft of mousy brown hair upon his little head. The most peculiar thing about this boy, though, wasn't his hair. No, the most interesting feature of this little bundle of life and innocence, was the pair of mystifying silver eyes he possessed.

Burroo village, a small quiet place in the middle of the Earth Kingdom, had never seen eyes like those before. Everyone within the village, within even the Earth Kingdom, all possessed eyes of green and brown. Not once has anyone from the quiet little village witnessed eyes of silver. The boy's parents had said it was a miracle. They said that it was a sign from the spirits that their son would be special. What they didn't know was that in just a few years, they would view those enchanting eyes as the eyes of a demon.

The silver eyed little boy was named Zangpo.

For the first few years of the boy's life, his household could only be described as the perfect family. His two parents were young and in love, and he was an adorable little boy that was always seen laughing or smiling at something. Some would say that Zangpo's eyes allowed him to see the joy and light in the world where the adults could not. He was nothing but innocent.

One day, on little Zangpo's third birthday, everything changed… and not for the better.

Zangpo rushed into his parent's bedroom excitedly, impatient to show them something amazing he had just figured out. Only, his parent's didn't share his excitement. What he wanted to show them was that he could push his toy across the room with a gentle gust of wind. And if he tried really hard, he could even make his wooden badgermole float. Upon seeing what their son could do, his parent's were terrified.

The Fire Nation had already torn through their village multiple times in search of earthbenders, they couldn't imagine what they would do if they found an airbender. They had never seen an airbender before, not many people have. They had been gone for the last eighty eight years, after all.

During that time, the Fire Nation had been continuously pushing out their propaganda since the beginning of the war. They said that the airbenders were going to upset the balance of the world, that they were going to raise the avatar as a dark avatar to take over the other nations. They had said that they were all evil… Whenever someone stepped forward to try and go against the Fire Nation agenda, they would disappear. With no one to say otherwise, their only choice was to believe the lies that the Fire Nation spewed out about airbenders.

Zangpo's dad acted first, rushing across the room to smack the little wooden toy out of the air before turning to face his son. "Don't you ever, ever, do anything like that again! Do you hear me!?"

The boy was frozen, his dad had never yelled at him before. It frightened him. Turning his fearful gaze towards his mother's shaking and pale form, he wordlessly begged her for help. Alas, she didn't do anything, merely turned her head away from him as though she couldn't even bear to look his way.

She had always been there for him when he was scared, why wasn't she there for him now? Zangpo was not only scared, but he was confused and hurt. Had he done something wrong?

"Go to your room!" His father shouted at him, pointing towards the still open door. Wordlessly, Zangpo hung his head to hide his teary eyes, and went to his room so he could go lay in bed and cry in peace.

Over the years, his parent's began to treat him worse and worse. His mom would never talk to him other than to reprimand him for something, she barely looked at him anymore. Oftentimes, she would forget to make him dinner, so he would frequently go to bed hungry.

His father had taken up drinking, and his reprimanding happened more and more often. He would call Zangpo names and scold him for seemingly no reason whatsoever. When his dad drank, he would even hit Zangpo just because he saw the boy looking at him. The problem was, he was always drinking. The six year old boy believed that his father was trying to beat the airbending out of him. Sadly, he was right…

The worst part was, the entire village knew this was happening, and not one of them stepped up to help him.

A year later, the little boy had almost completely stopped talking. He didn't talk to his parents, didn't talk to any adults in the village, but he did talk to a select few kids he knew. There was this one kid he rarely talked to, his name was Tumi. Tumi would talk him into doing stupid stuff, stuff like stealing from the local market. "If your parents aren't going to feed you, you have to feed yourself." He'd say convincingly, not really caring if Zangpo ate or not. What he really wanted was to watch as Zangpo got in trouble.

He knew that Tumi wasn't a real friend, but he was the only person that didn't seemingly treat him like some kind of freak.

Only a few people in the entire village knew that he was an Airbender, but everyone who knew would make up lies about him. They'd say he was a problem child, that he was a freak that tortured animals, that he was nothing but a liar and a thief. If you can imagine it, they had probably said it to his face at one point or another.

Even though his parents told him not to ever airbend again, ever since he was three years old, he would play with his bending in private. No longer could he just make objects float or push them around, but now at seven, he could make them fly. Not only that, but he learned that he could use his bending on himself. Zangpo could propel himself upward to reach high places, and he could even use his bending to propel himself forward so he could run faster.

Recently, running fast has become a life saver.

The other kids noticed Zangpo's ostracization, and they preyed on it. Since right before his eighth birthday, they would gang up on him, bullying him physically and verbally. To his great misfortune, even his only friend, Tumi, joined in on the fun. Now he truly and utterly felt alone in the village.

Zangpo threw himself into his airbending. His bending was the only thing he felt he had left, after all. In a rather sad way, his bending became his only friend. It was there for him when no one else was…

Before long, he had learned to use his bending to steal food without getting caught. His parents had long since given up on feeding him, probably hoping that he would die and be out of their hair or something cruel like that. They forced him to fend for himself.

At times, he wished that he had the strength to run away from it all—to go some place where he wouldn't be hated for what he was. Little did he know, in three short painful years, he would get his wish.

By the time he was eleven, his father had gotten increasingly more violent. Not only would he take his frustrations out on Zangpo, but he began to beat his mother as well. He blamed her for his son's bending ability, vowing that he didn't have any airbenders in his ancestry. One time, he came home more violent than usual.

The man had come home and made a direct beeline towards Zangpo's room. Kicking his son's door down in a drunken stupor, Zangpo immediately woke up to his father's punches. He was panicked, this isn't the first time this has happened, but it was never this bad. "You should have never been born! Why won't you just die!" His wrathful father screamed down at him between heavy punches and kicks.

He's going to kill me. Zangpo realized, having not felt this frightened since his father first yelled at him when he was three years old.

The punches and kicks rained down onto his young thin body, causing him to curl up to try and protect what he could. He's not going to stop… With that thought in mind, something inside of Zangpo snapped, and his bending saved his life once more.

Air compressed around him and just seemed to burst out in a violent dome like shape. His father was launched through the wall of his room like a ragdoll. And in what seemed like the time in his entire short life, everything was silent. His shallow and panicked breaths were the only thing he could hear. So slowly, he uncurled himself and stood up to gaze at the destruction he had caused.

His room was an absolute disaster, his sparse belongings and old toys scattered around in disarray. That wasn't what caught his attention though, no… what caught his eye was the very large hole in the wall that wasn't there before.

Slowly, he made his way out of the hole and into the night towards his father's limp form. Though it was dark, he could see blood on his head; glistening in the moonlight.

"Dad..?" He uttered quietly, still in shock over what had happened.

No response.

Suddenly, he heard movement coming from behind him. "Haruka?" His mother's soft voice sounded like thunder in his ears. "Haruka!" She screamed, now noticing her husband's downed and still form.

She rushed over, pushing Zangpo out of the way so she could kneel protectively over her husband's cooling corpse. His mother looked at him with a face only his father had ever worn. It was a face of raw fury and pain etched in deep sadness.

"What have you done!?"

"Mom, I-" Zangpo didn't get a chance to explain himself before she cut him off. "You're evil! A demon!" She shouted at him. Those were the first words she had said to him in years, and so it hurt—a lot.

Before he could even fully process the situation, his mother began screaming for help. Slowly but surely, villagers began to come out of their homes, a few of them with lanterns in hand. Zangpo didn't know what to do, he was still just a kid. He didn't want to get caught by the villagers, he didn't know what they would do to him.

So he ran. He ran and ran until he couldn't run any longer. With the help of his bending, he was able to cover a large distance in a short amount of time.

Eventually, he found a cave. Thanking the spirits that the cave was empty, he settled inside and curled up with his arms over his legs and his back against the cold rocky wall. Now, he was truly alone in the world.

Not that Zangpo had anyone back in the village, but at least back there he had a place to call home.

After some time, his stomach began to growl, reminding him that he hasn't eaten in a while. He was used to going for some time without food, but now that he was in the middle of nowhere, Zangpo had no idea where to even begin. Back home, he was always able to sneak a few apples and other fruits or vegetables from merchants here and there.

Meat had always been an oddity. There were rarely merchants with meat stalls that were selling cooked meats. Usually, they would be selling raw or freshly butchered steaks. But every so often, usually around the holidays, Zangpo could swipe some cooked meat. Every time that had happened, he couldn't believe how good it would taste.

When his mother made dinner, he could smell the delicious aroma, his stomach often rumbling in want. When he was younger, he would long for his parent's approval and love. He would observe how happy other families were and he yearned for it.

Zangpo had never completely understood why his parents hated him so much. He didn't choose to be an airbender, it was just something that had happened. He had no control over it. Even then, he never hated or showed dislike for his bending. It was a part of him, a part of him that yearned to be set free.

That was why he practiced his bending even though his father had told him never to do it again. He never did it in front of his parents, though. Zangpo couldn't ever imagine that going over well. So instead, he practiced in private.

Noticing a couple pebbles by his dirty feet, Zangpo made them float into his open palm as he let out a sigh. The only bright side that he could think of out of all that had happened, was at least now he could play with his bending whenever he wanted.

Making the pebbles in his palm spin around each other with a miniature tornado, he watched them with a sad smile on his tear streaked face.

Recalling how his mother had spoken to him with such fear and hate made him angry. He had never done so much as hurt anyone before, yet, he was often called a monster and a myriad of other names.

Zangpo had no intention of hurting his father, even to protect himself. What had happened was pure panic, pure reaction to the beating that he was receiving. Maybe he was a monster? A demon like his mother had said? The thought made the rocks floating above his palm spin faster and faster.

He had never felt so angry before, not at anyone. He was ostracized and abused just because he was different.

The little tornado in his hand spun madly, the little rocks floating within it becoming nothing but blurs in the darkness. Getting an idea, he allowed his control to slip, watching as they zipped through the air, whistling, as they careened towards the opposite wall of the cave.

When they hit the wall, they completely shattered into pieces with a loud crack.

Just then, a dark thought crossed his mind. A darkness that felt alien to him. If they wanted a monster so bad, why shouldn't he give them one?

Shuddering at the thought, he let out a tired sigh and leaned his head back against the stone wall. That dark voice in his head was so unlike him. Never before had he ever thought about using his bending to hurt anyone. Then again, never before had he ever felt so angry.

Zangpo wanted the people of the village to hurt… he wanted them to feel the pain that he felt nearly every day of his life. Over and over again, they had done nothing but watch as his father abused him. They knew that his parents didn't feed him, the other kids would often tease him about it. Yet, the entire village did nothing to discourage the treatment he received.

He couldn't seem to understand why life had to be so unfair. He knew he was the last airbender, or so was told. Growing up with airbending hating parents had at least taught him that much.

Ninety six years ago, the Fire Nation had wiped the air nomads out. Zangpo didn't hate them for that, though. The past was the past, and as sad as it was, he knew that the soldiers were just following the orders of the Fire Lord at the time. Yes, the Fire Nation has been waging a war for nearly the last hundred years, but not all of the Fire Nation are soldiers. Just as not everyone in the Earth Kingdom is.

Most people, from what he's seen, are content to just wait the war out. Hoping to stay out of the conflict that encompassed the world around them. He didn't doubt that there weren't people in the Fire Nation that were of the same mindset.

As the hatred of his parents had taught him, hating an entire people is stupid. Maybe our skin color was different, maybe our eyes were different, maybe we bent differently, but we were all the same on the inside. We were all just people in this war torn world wanting to survive.

"Or, I am just ignorant…" Zangpo sighed aloud, hoping that he wasn't wrong about people. He was only eleven years old still, after all. He had never even been outside his village before tonight. Surely he would learn whether he was right or wrong soon. There was no reason for him to go back to the village. It was time for him to move on, to truly begin his life for the first time.

Deciding he'd figure everything out tomorrow, he soon fell into a fitful sleep, exhaustion of the day finally getting to him.

***

Morning light woke him up the next day. Having fallen asleep in the mouth of the cave, the sun beamed down brightly upon him, pulling him from his slumber. He was thankful, though. He wasn't having any good dreams, having his angry mother and father's face plaguing him all night.

Stepping out of the cave, he began to stretch. Sleeping in a seated position against rock wasn't exactly comfortable. Looking around, he could see nothing but trees and bushes around him. Zangpo couldn't even tell which direction he had come from. He was in a panic last night and wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. Feeling his stomach grumbling at him, he began to search the area for something to eat.

Thanking the spirits, he soon found a bush full of dark purple juicy berries. Knowing they were safe to eat, having seen them at the market stalls, he began to gorge himself.

It wasn't long before he was forced to stop. Eating that fast after being so hungry upset his tummy and he almost threw his breakfast up. He gagged, but he had enough control to not empty his stomach.

Satisfied with a stomach full of berries, Zangpo made his way back to the cave to think. What was he to do now? He had no home, and he highly doubted that he would be able to live on berries alone. He needed to find his way back to civilization at some point or another.

Retracing his steps, he soon arrived at a mountain base, spotting the hole in the rocks where he stayed the night before.

Returning back to his village was out of the question. They wouldn't want him there. A small part of him though, still wished to make them hurt the way he has. But alas, he didn't have a heart hardened enough for that, yet.

Unbeknown to Zangpo, his mother was spreading his name in fear to her fellow villagers—calling him the silver-eyed demon. "A cursed child sent by dark spirits", she'd tell them.

Soon enough, such rumors would begin to spread. Stories of a silver-eyed airbending child would pop up in the surrounding villages. But before that happened, he would be making a name for himself.

Over the next few hours, Zangpo thought about what to do next. Finally coming to a decision after going over a bunch of ideas in his head, he decided to just pick a direction and run. He only hoped that whichever direction he picked, it wouldn't take him back to his home village any time soon.

Using his bending to reach speeds far faster than a natural runner, Zangpo soon popped out of a woodline and stumbled onto a dirt road. The road seemed well traveled, bearing multiple ostrich horse and wheel tracks.

Feeling that he was one step closer to finding his way in the world, he allowed a small smile to cross his face as he chose to follow the road moving forward.

Zangpo didn't use his bending to increase his speed like before, though. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, and he felt that a huge dust cloud following him as he ran would do just that. So instead, he casually walked, taking in the beautiful sights of nature around him.

It wasn't long before trouble soon found the young silver-eyed boy.

Three dirty looking men stepped out of the woodline seeming to look for trouble. Two of them carried rusty looking daggers while the third man had a dirty but sharp looking sword.

"Well, well, well… Look what we have here, boys," The man with the sword remarked with a nasty grin, gesturing at Zangpo with the sharp point of his weapon. "Fresh meat."

Zangpo looked at the three men in front of him with fear in his eyes. He assumed they were bandits, but didn't know for sure. He'd only heard stories of such marauders before. "Please, sirs, I don't want any trouble." Zangpo spoke respectively, not wanting to trigger the large men.

At that, the leader of the men barked out a harsh laugh before pinning him with an unsettling leer. "Come now, boy, me and my friends here haven't had any fun for a while… Why don't you come with us? We'll make sure you're well fed…

The way he spoke made the boy unsettled. He didn't like the way they looked at him at all. Their looks promised anything but comfort.

"I d-don't want to hurt you!" Zangpo shouted, trying not to show the men how much they scared him. He's never been put in a situation like this before. Back home, it was only the other kids and his father that he had to worry about. The men before him were strangers. Not only that, but they were the first people he had met outside of his village; that didn't bode well at all.

"You? Hurt us? I think you got that backwards, kid." The leading man chuckled darkly, ignoring the laughter of his cronies behind him.

"I'm warning you!" Zangpo continued, trying to be brave in the face of the apparent danger. He didn't know what the three men wanted from him, but he doubted it was anything good.

The bald man with the sword didn't so much as twitch at the boy's words. Instead, he turned his head to talk over his shoulder. "Get him." He ordered, deciding to sit back and let his men have the trouble of reining him in.

That was the moment Zangpo struck.