The Lunar Warrior [ATLA FF]

Book 1: Water | 28 | The Pacifist and The Warrior

Art Drawn By Me!

Hi! I'm back! Mom's back to full health, but... another family member is on their death bed... so it may be a while before I'm fully able to get back on my schedule. Thank you guys for being so patient, and for all of your well wishes.

Your Author,

-Jenna

PS: For a while now, I've been working on a new MHA fanfiction for which I have a bit of art. I was planning to hold off on posting it until this was all over, but it has eight chapters finished right now and may take the place of my Esper Hero Fanfic in the future.

Thank you again, now on to the story.

Aang was terrified, understandably. He was currently blocking and dodging heavy blows from this menacing and powerful watertribe warrior out of nowhere! As an airbender, he thought that he was fast.

But with that spear in hand, Ayaan was like a fish in water.

When the spear spun, he could hear the whistle in the air. The moment the spear connected with his staff he could hear the air snapping at the abruptness. It was a torrent of blows, a flowing dance of never-ending, ever-changing attacks. Aang could feel his arms burning from the strain of blocking them all.

He fought back the feelings of déjà vu hitting him. He, in this life, had never met anyone like Ayaan before. So why did he feel like he had? Why was there such a connection?

In a past life, could he have met someone like Ayaan before?

Right now, he couldn't think about that, he was defending himself.

In all of this, however, never once did Aang attack him. He never went on the offensive, only blocking his blows or dodging them. He didn't want to hurt Ayaan, though the chance of that happening was slim to none.

He didn't want to hurt anyone.

This thinking did not do him any favors against Ayaan, who managed to deliver a hefty blow to his abdomen with his fist after switching to his single-handed spear tactics.

It was a scary feeling for the air nomad to have the wind knocked out of him.

When he looked up, he found Ayaan scowling at him. It wasn't a disappointed frown, but one that was trying to hide a grimace. This was not easy for Ayaan either, because he knew Aang would be like this.

He knew he didn't want to fight. If he was being honest, Ayaan didn't want him to. None of them. But he had to, and Ayaan knew this too.

"Attack me, Aang," He said. He slammed his spear into the ground hard, causing cracks to form where it landed. The boom resonated through the forest they were battling in, and the frown he wore only deepened, "You can not remain on the defensive. I'm not the type you can run from, there are traps everywhere in this area."

"When did you—cough!—have enough time to—cough! cough!—do that?!"

"I've been setting traps since you all started your hunts." He said evenly, not at all bothered by the wide eyes of his peaceful foe. For Ayaan, traps were a simple task, and he'd had weeks to transform his southern pole tactics into something more useful in places like these.

He bought everything he needed from a shop in Omashu. No, that isn't quite right. When they got out of the palace, he was given those supplies by them as thanks for his help earlier in the day. He'd helped a lot of people during his little info-gathering, shopping, sightseeing adventure.