Avatar: Reborn in Ice and Blood

Because I hold my rational reasoning in high regard and would hate to lose it, even if it would make so many things far easier than they have been so far if I were insane, I have decided that I will use the time I promised the princess to think through my situation.

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I am, as of now, alone in this world insofar that I am the only one who has memories of my 'original' – another word I use carefully, not knowing if it is actually that place that I originate form – world. This puts me in a lonely position, likely to react violently when it finally becomes too much.

There is, unfortunately, no real outlet for this emotion, no cure. Surrounding myself with individuals and making them into companions and friends helps, but there can be no cure. Amnesia, for starters, would only be treating symptoms and I, for all the pain these memories of mine have brought me, have no desire to forget where I come from.

It is a rare kind of desperation that colours my actions. While I do regard my second life as very precious, I have no desire to continue it indefinitely. Certainly, I have set myself goals to accomplish, lofty ones at that, but they aren't impossibly far out of reach.

Indeed, my definition of 'impossibility' has shifted greatly, and I find now, that the hogwash I told Katara about contiguity is rather astute. I will, at some point, if none of the other methods I come up with do anything, create a situation in which I will die, in order to have a chance at communicating with the Spirits in the Spirit World of this place.

This is a fact.

One that, I should say, doesn't scare me as much as it perhaps should. I am, as of now, quite confident that even if I do not manage to enter the Spirit World and communicate with its inhabitants, I will either disappear or be better prepared for my next life, should I get another. Something that, I am sure, is not worth contemplating until it occurs.

Therefore, and here and now within my lifetime, I will distract myself from this loneliness, this hurt. I will, for all that pain is said to be the best teacher, do my best to turn it into a bothersome constant that I can ignore if I set my mind to it.

But, there is a niggling question in the back of my mind that I do not mind agonising over. It is interesting to contemplate, after all. Who or what is the cause of this world's existence? It seems to me to be a power coming to the creators of the Avatar cartoon series. Or, some powerful being is amusing itself with creating this world after that example. Or, this world served as the basis of the series itself, the idea somehow induced into the creator's minds.

If I go with the theory that the production of this fiction as I knew it before being reborn alone was enough to cause this world's existence, there is nothing standing in my way of creating my own little world for universal quirks to dump unsuspecting persons in. Since I dislike the thought of any human having that much power and the sick fantasies of some authors should never be made into any kind of reality, I will disregard the idea on the grounds of making myself less uncomfortable. I am, after all, avoiding pain here as best I can.

Now, the amusement of some very powerful being – because, as I have mentioned before, I am unwilling to believe that what has happened to me doesn't take lots of power to accomplish – is something I wonder at. This amusement must be either the very patient kind, or the being has the ability to fast-forward through time to make it more interesting. That is, if amusement is something that isn't unique to humans. Unless, of course, humans can one day move others of their kind into until-that-point-in-time fictional worlds. Because all of this seems to me to be so very unlikely, that humans should one day ascend into what I equate to minor godhood, or at the very least powerful beings on a metaphysical plane, I will also disregard this aspect.

If this world has been in existence of its own accord, and the creators of a cartoon series in my original one got their ideas from this, coincidentally not changing even minute details about it that they knew of, it would seem that it would be possible that all the worlds thought up in fiction are in fact in existence already. It would also appear to me that my presupposed notion of a human's ability to think up their own thoughts and ideas might be incorrect. This would bother me greatly, because it would lead me to question whether my also presupposed notion of freedom of thought is a delusion.

And, once again, because it makes me so deeply uncomfortable, and opens up queries of how many other notions of mine are in fact false, I disregard the idea.

But the fact that this world and my original one are connected somehow, be it only through me and my unlikely existence with the foreknowledge of what happened in the cartoon, remains. But it's entirely shot to crap now with what I've done.

At the time, it seemed like such a simple decision. Well, it's consequences are anything but. If I have learned anything in these past few days, it's that impulsive action doesn't really work out for me all that nicely. One mistake is the necessary parent of another.

Pain, well, Azula's not easy to live with on a good day, and being forced to move around all the time, and even caring for a baby, she's irritable and prone to lashing out. With flames.

Because that's obviously the way to go.

I try not to hold it against her. She's ten, mentally, and I've begun treating her like it. She's been conditioned to react to anything she doesn't like with violence.

"Put your clothes back on, princess. We're not staying the night here, out in the open."

"But they stink!"

"Then you should've taken the opportunity to wash them."

"What? No, you should've!"

"Believe me, princess, I have no intention of touching your underwear, ever."

She colours bright red, "P-Pervert!" and accompanies the shout with a fist of fire that I only avoid because I know it is coming. At the very least, I get to hone my reflexes for attacks from behind.

What makes it worse for her, is not only losing all the comforts she's used to and has never lived without, but also that when I inspected her head injury, I came to the conclusion that she would need a professional healer or some kind of miracle. Like that water from the Spirit Oasis. If nothing else, when I do go back to the North Pole, I could maybe filch some.

There is also… a kind of swelling… in her… brain.

I don't know a thing about blood clots or even the human brain, but I think it's what's causing her to react so violently without measuring herself. She has no control and were I anyone else, I'd have suffered far worse than a few burns by now for chastising her when she's being worse than just arrogant and antagonistic. When she's purposefully causing hurt in others. She does it frequently and with great pleasure.

Well, I've decided I'll make it more painful than keeping her mouth shut could ever be, opinionated person that she is.

She hates me, to some degree, and reveres me at the same time. I've not told her any of my suspicions, but I've instated daily sessions of moving cooling water over her scalp and trying to dissolve that clot in her brain.

I don't feel comfortable enough trying to cut the clot up and moving the pieces out of her body, however. My control isn't good enough. The only thing I can do for her at the moment is to soothe the constant headaches and see that the rest of her brain is sufficiently bled-through.

Certainly, I can bend other people's spit, but that's nothing compared to controlling blood flow inside the body.

I need the full moon for that, and lots of practise before I do that kind of bending inside of her skull. It's bad enough that she's with me in the first place. I don't need a dead princess on my hands as opposed to the live one. Surprisingly enough, that would me more of an inconvenience.

Accepting my own inadequacy is… painful.

It's been an enlightening time.

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Don't forget to throw some power stones :)

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