author's note | thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews! :3

Transcend

Canon/speculative/AU.

One hundred universes, one hundred lives, one hundred instants. One hundred moments telling of the lives of the four main LoK characters. (They're not necessarily related.)

Various pairings.

傳說

Part One – Legend

[theme set epsilon]
(prompt #03)

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II. Young
mako

genre: family/tragedy | speculative

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[why does it feel like night today?
something in here's not right today]

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A quavering voice. A tug at the hem of his tunic:

"Mako?"

Another pull.

The wind blows in, a sharp and mournful howl of a sound: it blows into the eaves and cracks of the dilipatated shack they call a home, rustling loose fabric, whipping bits and ends of cracked brown leaves into corners.

"Mako? Why is mommy on the floor?"

Yank. More insistent now. More panicked.

"Mako? Mako, can you hear me?"

Bolin tugs at his coat again, his bright green eyes alight with a childish innocence.

"Mako, where's daddy? And why is mommy lying there?"

Mommy's dead and daddy's dead and I saw that man with long black hair and amber eyes burn daddy alive and mommy tried to stop him but she suffocated because of the smoke.

How he would be able to tell that to a five-year-old, Mako has no idea, so instead he blinks at his little brother languidly, eyes cloudy with grief, but if Bolin saw the despair, he doesn't comment upon it.

"Mommy's...asleep."

"On the floor?"

"...Yeah."

"'Kay," Bolin amiably agrees, releasing Mako's shirt and smiling a big and toothy smile that has a gap where his upper left incisor should be. And Mako has never been more grateful for his little brother's obliviousness.

"Tell me when she wakes up!" the green-eyed boy adds, the brightness layered on top of his tone like sunbeams breaking through a thick blanket of clouds on a gray day. "She promised me she'd tell me the story about O-ma-shu again!"

"Right," the firebender replies in a small voice.

"'M goin' outside to play with Kilaun!" Bolin calls out as he scampers out of the room, happiness evident in his every gesture.

"Right," nine-year-old Mako says again, because he can't get anything else out through the lump in his throat.

He looks at mommy again and sees daddy's red scarf peeking out from her ratty pockets and then he thinks about how daddy's remains had been carted away and dumped into the sea to float out into the unknown.

He stares at mommy's still form on the figure because he can't tear his eyes away now, and he can't stay in here, he can't stay in this cramped hole of a shack any longer, he tells himself that he and Bo definitely have to go because the bad man is still on the loose and he saw Mako and what if he comes after him and Bolin next?

His feet don't move and he can hear Bolin laughing from outside.

The ends of the scarf spills out onto the dusty floor as he tentatively pulls it out of mommy's pocket, as if he's scared that it might bite him.

Sinking against the wall. Rump hitting the ground with a muffled thump. Eyes staring blankly out into the distance. Pale and thin hands shaking violently. Listening to Bolin's laughter.

He winds the scarf around his neck and buries his nose in it because the wind is still blowing.

.

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[a face that awakes when i close my eyes...
...a face that laughs every time they fall]

end notes | wow this was pathetic and wow how fucking unrealistic... ._.

asami's up next with Safe; and then it's wan/raava with One.