The Avatar is Gone- Forever?
read the headlines one hundred years ago, after the passing of Avatar Kady. Republic City claimed to have seen her in the Avatar state when she passed on, and thus, the Avatar cycle came to a halt, they said... Now it has been two thousand years since Avatar Korra, a famous and much loved Avatar, had passed on. Modern day Republic City believes she would be amazed and then disgusted if she were here now. Amazed at the sleek, Hovermobiles levitating an entire foot off the ground; amazed at the tall steel buildings whose sides project commercials from flashing HD color television screens; amazed at the garments people are wearing, glitzy and glamorous with high tech features, like cellular phones implanted in thin, fashionable gloves.
Disgusted at the way poor people are made into slaves if four years old or older; disgusted at how the Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Water Tribes are dominated by a single power when they are supposed to be separate; disgusted at how the leader of this dominating power, Valor Li-Nova, has been crowned 'Honorary Avatar', because people have lost hope in the real and apparently nonexistent Avatar; disgusted that all she did to stop the Equalists went somewhat in vain, for now, all airbenders are extinct. An entire race gone, along with her friends Tenzin and his children.
Li-Nova's regime is in full control of the other nations. Laws are in effect that remove people from their homes if it is convenient to place a shopping center or corporate building. Corporations dominate small, family owned businesses. People are losing their jobs everyday, and becoming slaves.
And no one except the Avatar can stop it.
But the Avatar is dead.
Welcome to The Chessboard Battlefield Trilogy, a double between the ever so incredible KawaiiGrrl and myself. This story takes place in the cyberpunk evolution of the LOK world we know and love, two thousand years after Korra passed away.
I hope you enjoy this legendary trilogy, and as I say because I'm The Way,
|Book II: The Bishops|
|..:|Chapter L: Daughter | Part I|:..|
"C-Cleon?" Instantly, the flowing water that Avila was bending to extinguish the fire fell in mid-air as she approached him. "Did... did you do that?" She pointed to the flames of the temple, the crimson ruins crumbling behind her.
The robotic boy nodded curtly. "Uh, y-yes. That was... what I was trying to show you."
"Can you do it again?"
His eyes widened. "What?"
She repeated her words, slower than originally said. "Can you do it again?"
"Uh, sure." Calming his nerves quickly, he replicated his previous firebending move. Stretch your arms.
The flames intensified. Lift them up.
They spiralled up like a miniature dragon. Clench your fists.
With a few flying embers, the fire faded into the atmosphere, the only evidence of its existence being a steaming, empty spot of smoke on the ground.
Avila's eyes widened at his feat, revealing the maximum size of her ocean-like pupils. Without hesitation, she gestured to Käthe. "Can you teach her to do what you just did? We need all the help we can get," she commanded, a subtle trace of bewilderment and awe in her voice.
"Does that mean I can help?" asked Cleon, hope and confidence nestling into his heart.
She grinned. "No one can stop you now."
At those words, Cleon's eyes lit up with joy. He could contribute. He wasn't heavy weight to them; his presence had value.
He turned to the other firebender with a kind smile. "First, you stretch your arms, like this..."
Sitting on his adorned throne, a man well past his youthful years unfolded a clean, thick newspaper. He expected the headline of the newspaper; anyway, he was the cause of it himself. What he was not prepared for were the people involved.
TEENS EXTINGUISH FIRE IN AILEE DISTRICT
A serene day was interrupted by plumes of gray smoke emitted from a nearby temple, striking panic into the hearts of citizens in the Ailee district. If the fire in Shengaku Temple continued, its burning havoc would spread to surrounding buildings, increasing the damage tenfold. However, according to witnesses, several teenagers used their bending hastily to extinguish the fire before it could have any opportunity to spread.
"It was amazing, absolutely amazing," says classical musician Zico Shabet, age 62. "Those kids used their bending to take out the fire quicker than any fire fighter I've ever seen."
After the fire had been smothered, the mysterious adolescents were seen sifting through the remains of the temple. When the police arrived, they quickly fled the locations. Sources varied on whether or not a teen had taken an object from the now charred ruins. Police are now investigating the scene in suspicion of arson.
(See more pg. 34 in Recent News)
The man tapped a finger on the arm of the chair curiously.
"Hm, I wonder if they're involved with this," he muttered to himself. Worry began to flow into his veins like toxin. They had burned the building to a smoldering ruin; it was near impossible to find any distinguishable information there.
A stream of dull light emerged from the outside as the main door to the throne room was opened ajar, revealing an obedient servant's peeking head.
"Your Majesty, Miss Harmonie is here."
"Bring her in, please," he beckoned. Silently, Harmonie entered the room, her back stiff, her arms crossed against her chest.
He smiled warmly, his eyes expressing kindness and sympathy. "Harmonie... it's been a while, hasn't it?"
She turned away, refusing to make eye contact. Chu sighed deeply.
"Please talk to me, Harmonie. You seem like you don't enjoy your life here. I - no, we're truly trying our best to support you with the highest quality."
Her posture softened. With cautious, piercing eyes, she glanced at Chu.
She spoke slowly but precisely. "Why do you want me here? Why am I so important?"
Warmly, he smiled once again. "There's only one answer to that: my daughter, Harmonie Chu."
*wipes tear* THANK YOU FOR 500+ POSTS ouo *flails arms wildly* I dunno about the Way, but this is my first fanfic that's been this wildly successful *o* I mean, half a thousand comments? You guys are awesome. I gotta plan an amazing plot twist for this story sometime, because every one of you guys definitely deserves it for sticking with us this long. ;u;
|Book II: The Bishops|
|..:|Chapter XLVIX: Desperate|:..|
He was expecting cheers of joy and praise, maybe even Geld admitting that his membership in F.A.L.S.E. was actually worthwhile and not worthless.
He was expecting the toxic rank of ash and smoke to fade into a faint linger.
He was simply expecting something good to finally occur after such dark times had fallen.
But nothing happened.
When he opened his eyes, the putrid stench stung his eyes, the stubborn fire continued its burning havoc, and the disappointed stares of his fellow members stabbed through his confidence, violently tearing it into two pieces. They had set up high expectations, only to see them collapse to the ground with his hopes.
As always, he had failed.
A drawn-out sigh. "What are you trying to do, Cleon?" groaned Geld. "Are you trying to stall us or something?"
Cleon's panic rose steadily as he desperately clenched his fist repeatedly at the flames, only to result in fruitless efforts. "I-I was sure this worked! A minute ago it worked!"
Avila spoke, "Cleon, please, stand back. I know you really want to help, but it's nearly impossible to do so."
He glanced around at the concerned expressions of his comrades, their eyes sending messages of pity. The exception was Geld, a look of contempt and irritation shooting from his squinting eyes through the fog.
Burying his remaining courage, he stepped away from the burning fury of the fire and Geld. He stood along with the other firebender of F.A.L.S.E., Käthe. Cleon glanced at the fiery ruins and his colleagues hastily smothering the fire with earthbending.
No. No, no, no.
They were all wrong.
He was not a heavy burden upon F.AL.S.E. He could help. He was powerful and strong and youthful and clever and worthwhile to have in this organization. Sure, he was unable to do many things. He couldn't make small talk with a stranger. He couldn't feel the wind brush against his skin in the morning air. He couldn't even have the uncomfortable feelings of a first love and feel the warmth of a beating heart, despite the fact he believed such a bizarre concept as "love" was overrated.
But he couldn't give up. It worked the first time; it should work again.
Believing fire only had the power to destroy was a stereotype since Avatar Aang's age, but perhaps he could change it this time.
First, he had to calm himself. Just breathe in.
Closing his eyes, he gulped in the toxic oxygen. And breathe out.
He coughed out the contaminated air like a sputtering, worn vehicle. And in. And out. And in. And out.
He opened his eyes. Cleon had enough of breathing exercises. It was time for action.
Once again, he raised his hand towards the fiery wreckage. A small flame subtly flared up, sending a slight ripple of anxiety through Cleon.
What if this would make everything worse? What if he really was worthless and stupid and harmful and -
No, no, he wasn't.
He raised his hand higher; the flame rose with it. With a watchful eye upon the burning fire, he turned his hands into tight fists, extinguishing the fire and its angry temper. Stronger.
With much more force, he jerked his arm upwards, a torch of flaming anger spiralling towards the sun before being smothered by Cleon's fist.
He could do this.
Stretching two of his hands towards the ruins, he jerked them up and repeated the process, except on a bigger scale.
So big that it caught the attention of Avila.