Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When a mysterious stranger arrived on the island, a halo of light behind his back and winds swirling around him as he touched down gently on the sand, the inhabitants had originally assumed him to be an air nomad. But the blue clothes and purple hair told them otherwise.

He called himself but a simple wanderer. Who wishes to learn more of this world. They told him about their Kyoshi Arts, and their Avatar’s history on this island. The wanderer was intrigued, and asked if he could be taught the Kyoshi Martial Art.

Jokingly, they told him that he would have to wear their uniform. He accepted. Though the warriors did not initially expect him to, he looked beautiful in the dress. The only flaw, being that the shade of green of their dress did not complement him well enough.

The makeup, however, had done him Justice.

The stranger took to his training well, and within weeks, he could beat many of the warriors in their sparring matches.

Grateful for their hospitality and kindness, the young man forged them a blade. But the Chief and the warriors soon came to realize that this was no ordinary blade.

Expertly crafted and carefully sharpened, the sword had an aura of great strength. Whirling breeze drifted around, and crackles of electricity appeared where the wind did not. If one listened closely, they could hear the hum and pulsing of pure elemental power.

Whispers of the wanderer circulated after his depart.

Was he a spirit?

Was he the envoy of one?

Have they been blessed somehow?

Will he return someday?

All these rumors eventually turned into a minor legend. The Spirit of Storms.

It was said that the thundering spirit had created a human manifestation to wander the world in its place. To interact and live with humans to see what it was like. And perhaps, just maybe, it would show more mercy when it unleashed its fury unto the land with this newfound experience.

When he was taught the way of Kyoshi, he created a great blade infused with wind and lightning. If a warrior were to face a foe with this blade, their enemies were sure to lose.

(It was because of this very blade that the Fire Nation allowed them to be a neutral party in the war.)

They named it… The Blade of Raiden.

Perhaps this was the beginning of the tale of the Wandering Spirit. 

Chapter Text

Aang blinked the sleep from his eyes when he saw Wanderer sitting alone, staring up at the stars.

He didn’t quite know what caused him to wake up so early. Checking the moon’s position, it must be just an hour or two after midnight. Early morning.

He could’ve just went back to sleep, but instead he quietly got off of Appa, stepping around a snoring Sokka next to a blissfully quiet Katara, he made his way to their most mysterious team member.

“… Wanderer?” He whispered.

The other boy inclined his head, not taking off his gaze from the stars. “… why are you up so early?”

“I don’t know. Why are you?” Aang asked, sitting down next to Wanderer. The vagrant had a neutral expression, something unreadable swirling in the depths of his eyes.

“… I suppose it’s because… it’s my birthday.”

Aang gasped. “What? Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve…” then he trailed off, remembering who he was talking to.

“I don’t need anything special.” Wanderer waved it off.

“But still…” Aang frowned. “At least let us sing you happy birthday?”

“… hmph. If you must. But do it in the morning.”

Aang barely stifled a giggle. That was definitely a Wanderer thing to say. Then he sobered and looked to the starry night as well. “You stargaze a lot.” He commented, “Is there a reason, or…?”

“…” Wanderer simply breathed.

Aang waited, ready to clarify that it was okay if he didn’t want to say or if he didn’t have much of a reason at all.

“… the stars.” Wanderer eventually spoke, not meeting his gaze, “The sky. They’re…”

Aang tilted his head.

“… never mind. It’s nothing. They’re just something to look at while I wait for you idiots to sleep.” Wanderer shook his head.

Aang nodded and didn’t push. “Okay. Then I’ll go back to sleep since you look alright.” He got up and made to go back to Appa, but paused. “Happy birthday, Wanderer.” He smiled.

Wanderer nodded in acknowledgment, and Aang turned away.

Wanderer, now left to his own thoughts, finished in his head. The stars, the sky, they’re real.

“… Happy birthday dear Wanderer~ Happy birthday to you!” They finished, and cheered.

Wanderer crossed his arms and tried to seem nonchalant, but the human trio caught the slight smile he tried to hide with his hat.

“Here, my seal jerky. Just for today.” Sokka waved the food in Wanderer’s face.

“No.” Wanderer said flatly.

“Jerk.”

“You really won’t let us give you gifts?” Katara frowned. “But it’s such an important day.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need gifts.” Wanderer said, for what seemed like the millionth time when it was really just the fifth.

“At least he let us sing to him?” Aang offered. “But we’re definitely getting you gifts next year, now that we know!”

“Right!” Katara nodded.

Sokka sighed and chewed on the jerky, “Also, you fake emo, I saw you smiling.”

“No you didn’t.” Wanderer willed away the heat that threatened to show on his face.

“I so did! We all did! Katara, tell him!” Sokka insisted.

Katara, choosing to side with the birthday boy and to annoy her brother, “Hm? Whatever do you mean? You must’ve been hallucinating, Sokka.”

“Yeah, Sokka. Maybe you’re still a bit eepy!” Aang grinned.

“‘Eepy?’” Wanderer parroted incredulously.

“Sleepy.” Katara explained.

“I am not—UGH! You guys are the worst!” Sokka stomped away, only to get licked head to toe by Appa. “Eurgh!!!” He sputtered.

Momo seemed to laugh in lemur, but Aang picked him up. “Don’t laugh Momo, it’s rude. And besides, Appa’s just saying ‘we love you too, Sokka!’ Isn’t that right?”

Appa groaned in affirmation.

Wanderer was tempted to say, ‘I don’t.’ But then he glanced at a bison-spit-soaked Sokka, and decided he didn’t want the same fate.

Chapter Text

The puppet came across a burning Earth Kingdom village. It had been 5 years since Sozin officially declared war, and the sight of fire devouring forests, houses, and people became a common sight. A gruesome one, but common nonetheless. He was about to turn away, since survivors were rare in these cases, but-

"Mama!" A child wailed and sobbed. "Mama, Mama get up!" The boy shook the corpse of his mother. Her face had been burnt off, the skin warped and melted and revealing muscle and bone, and one of her legs was bent and crushed. Something must've fallen on her as she tried to escape. The boy himself had burns, a few on his arms, and his right ear was...

A Fire Soldier slowly approached the boy, fist aflame. The child let out a heart-wrenching cry, "MAMAAA!!"

That was when the puppet flew at full speed towards the soldier, kicking him in the face. The soldier fell to the ground and did not get up. "Follow me." He said to the boy. The boy sobbed pitifully and shook his head, burying his face into his mother's dead body. "Mama..."

The puppet softened his expression and knelt next to the boy. "She's gone."

"Don't wanna leave her..." The boy sniffled. 

"..." The puppet was silent. "... what's your name?"

"Xi Wang..." 

Liyuan for hope.

"... She would want you to live."

The boy sobbed again, but took the puppet's hand. 

The puppet stood back up, and stared at the mother's corpse for a second before turning away.

... he used to wish he could have a mother like that.

The puppet ended up finding more survivors and bringing them a river not too far, but not too close either. Taking a look at the humans he brought to safety, there was only one adult and three kids, including Xi Wang. And even then, the adult was young, being 19. They all looked to him quietly, waiting for further leadership.

He couldn't deny he felt a little unnerved at all the faith they're putting in him, of all people. But he supposed they had no other person to depend on. Deciding he had nothing else better to do, he helped them journey across the Earth Kingdom, to Ba Sing Se, where he figured it was safest. 

Xi Wang got an infection from his burnt ear, and the puppet slowly tried nursing him back to health with the help of the other survivors. Xi Wang was the youngest of them all, and the puppet could tell the other survivors were expecting him to soon succumb to his fever when they see no improvements. It was a reasonable assumption, considering they had no medicine at all, and Xi Wang looked to be on the verge of death.

Maybe it would be a mercy to just end the boy's suffering. But, watching Xi Wang cough and wheeze and yet still cling to life, a determined fire in his eyes, faint but there, and remembering the boy's mother... the puppet thinks that humans are more trouble than they're worth. Perhaps that isn't always a bad thing.

They encounter a traveling herbalist through sheer luck. Xi Wang lives, and the journey to Ba Sing Se was a successful one. The puppets bids them all farewell at the gates, but Xi Wang tackles his legs in a hug. 

"Thank you, mister." The boy murmurs, then looks up at him with a bright grin, a few teeth crooked and missing. 

The puppet simply nods, at a loss for what to say. He watches their retreating fgures get smaller and smaller until they're lost amidst the crowd inside. He turns away and resumes his wandering. 

He did not do it out of the kindness of his heart. He doesn't have a heart in the first place. He was only atoning.

That is what the puppet repeats to himself that night, as he watches the stars. 

His Vision pulses with a soft glow, and he gently cradles it in his hand. 

He was... only atoning.