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ABCLAF Logo This Kataang one-shot takes place in The Waterbending Scroll.



Chapter Twenty-Four: No Time[]

No time.

No time.

He has no time.

None.

At all.

The world is over.

He will die.

He can't do it.

He can't.

No time.

His feet move of their own accord, tracing circles in the saddle, a figure eight, an infinity.

An infinity of torture and pain.

"Would you sit down?" Sokka's words are clipped and annoyed. "If we hit a bump, you'll go flying off!"

Step.

Trace.

Reminder.

Appa grumbles as Sokka shifts in his seat to look at him. "What's bugging you, anyway?" Sokka demands.

Another breath.

Ragged.

Painful.

He can't do it.

He can't.

He's going to die.

It's over.

"It's what Avatar Roku said!" he explodes, his heart thumping loudly enough for him to be able to feel the air palpitating around him. "I'm supposed to master all four elements before that comet arrives."

He refuses to say its name.

The image of it has forever been burned into his eyelids.

He closes his eyes.

And he sees it.

There.

Etched in reds and oranges, yellows and golds, fears and hates.

He closes his eyes.

And he sees it.

He can't do it.

He can't.

He shakes with fear. He wants out.

I never wanted to be the Avatar.

I never did.

And I don't understand.

Why can't I just give it to someone else?

A master.

Someone who can learn all the elements without a doubt.

Someone.

Please.

Spirits . . .

I can't do it.

I can't.

There's no time.

No time.

Sokka is snickering, his entire face awash with mirth. "Well, let's see," he says, sneering, "you've pretty much mastered Airbending and that only took you a hundred and twelve years. I'm sure you can master three more elements by next summer." Breaking into garish guffaws, Sokka clutches his stomach as he sniggers.

No.

Sokka's right.

There's no time.

He can't do it.

He can't do it.

He can't do it.

No time.

No time.

No time.

He can't . . . he can't . . . he can't . . .

His world erupts into a nightmare.

He can feel the fear in his expression, can feel it radiating from him, can feel its fingers of death and dying wrapping themselves around him, choking him, choking him, choking . . .

"I haven't even started Waterbending, and we're still weeks away from the North Pole! W-what am I going to do?!" The wind rushes against him.

It mocks him.

You can control me, it says, not my brothers. You cannot control them, Avatar, and that is why the world will die.

He screams.

No time.

No time.

No time.

He notices her, appearing from the fog that clouds his mind.

She smiles at him, and it is as if the burden has been lifted.

No time . . .

No.

He has time.

He has nine months before the comet comes.

He has her.

And he will make every fleeting moment of their time together count.

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