Disclaimer: I own seasons one and two of Avatar, but that's about it.
Author's Note: Long live da Kataang. X3
More eloquently, please enjoy my first Avatar fanfic!
PS. REVIEWS ARE ETERNALLY APPRECIATED, BUT REALIZE THAT I HAVE ONLY WATCHED THROUGH EPISODE 10 OF SEASON TWO. SPOILERS ARE NOT WELCOME! Please let me see this wonderful series for myself. XD Thanks so much in advanced!
The sky was purple.
Murky, swirling, angry and purple. It wasn't right; that wasn't the color the sky should be— the sky was meant to be soft and blue. The sky was meant to be wide and bright, meant to be full of white fluff and warm sunshine. But it seemed to him that the world had suddenly turned upside down; the only blue around him was far, far below, churning in the storm, frothing and raging and crashing so loudly he couldn't even hear himself think.
Maybe that was why Appa fell.
Because he couldn't pull himself together, couldn't spit out the words. Couldn't call the bison away from the place that looked more like their home than the heavens currently did. Blue— they were attracted to blue. Not this violent violet... they wanted the wide blue sky…
What did I want…?
He couldn't remember, for there was too much ice in his head. It fogged his senses, left him mute and deaf and he knew he was on the verge of losing his sight, too. It felt as if he had broken through the atmosphere… but hadn't he gone down? Could he have fallen into space? Why did he feel so heavy…?
The truth was slammed into his brain as the air was stolen from his lungs. This was no sky, blue though it was. They had been tricked, fooled, coaxed into the white-laced darkness… His hands groped for something, anything, to help him break free of this nameless prison, but all he could see above him was purple and white and black, black, black…
And then, just as suddenly, there was blue again.
It was blinding, this blue, and for a moment— just a moment— it terrified him. So deep, so bright, so blinding… like ice. Like water. Like death.
His breath left him in a rush, and for a second he thought that he was drowning again.
Wait, this blue was too soft to be hard ice. Too gentle to be ruthless water. Too merciful to be eternal death. Is it…— he could barely bring himself to hope; his heart leapt to life— the sky…?
No, that wasn't right, either. For the sky was never so close to him; the sky never spoke, let alone whispered worriedly, asking if he was alright. The sky could never be that beautiful…
He blinked slowly, resisting the urge to cough and splutter, unsure why his entire body felt weak and cold and so very much alive. Warm hands were supporting his weight, lifting his head, checking his vitals. He could feel the darkness and anger and fear clouding his mind lift; the heavens were open to him again…
Heaven was cradling him in her arms.
Desperately, he strained his brain, trying to think of some way to ask her who she was or where he was or what was going on. Why her eyes were so frighteningly, wonderfully, shockingly blue…
Instead, he heard himself ask her:
"Wanna go penguin sledding with me?"