Author's Note: This story may start out a little confusing, and Shila may seem a little… Well, deranged? But I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while now, so I figured why not finally write it down? I hope you enjoy it! I'm not really one for A/N's at the start of a chapter, so I'll just get to the point:

This story is rated T, but I may change it depending on how things go. It will have themes suitable for an older audience. I will be writing the 100 Year War a bit more realistically than the cartoon depicted, so expect quite a bit of gore and violence as the story gets rolling. I will place specific warnings in later chapters once things get more graphic.

And of course, I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or any of the characters!

(P.S. "Shila" is an Inuit name relating to fire. The Water Tribe connection will make sense later on, I promise!)

ISOLATION

CHAPTER ONE

"Every act of creation is first an act of destruction."

- Pablo Picasso

The building was in flames when she arrived. Bright and red, they licked hungrily at the space, greedily consuming all around it. She could hear the laughter of her siblings from beyond the destruction, followed by the screams of her target.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she walked calmly amongst the flames. The heat brushed against her skin, seeming to reach out to her, as if in recognition of her strength. Unlike the others, she was worthy of her element. Fire, she knew, was not easily controlled. You could not simply wield it; you must demand obedience, your presence should dominate the hatred of fire.

She sighed, lifting her arms slightly to brush her fingertips affectionately over the flames. "You must forgive them," she said. "I'm afraid they will never learn from their ignorance."

Another sigh. They couldn't learn – not as she had. She was the only of Father Satish's children to have been kissed by fire. The rest were lucky to produce their feral flames, but they could hope for nothing more. It wasn't often that a true Child of Fire was born into the world.

She could smell the scene before she could see it: singed flesh and blood. It was an odor she was quite familiar with, although that did not lessen her distaste for it. Behind the burnt wreckage of what once had been a home sat a courtyard etched entirely in stone, the only aspect of the property that stood impervious to the flames. It was here she found her siblings, covered in gore and torturing the remaining members of the household.

They would never learn. Silently, she drew a blade, throwing it with an easy flick of the wrist and lodging it into the throat of one of her siblings. The girl sputtered, blood trickling from her mouth as she collapsed to the ground. The remaining siblings looked around the courtyard with wide eyes before their shocked gaze finally settled on her.

"My Lady Shila!" the remaining children chorused, stooping into respectful bows, immediately ceasing their unsightly behavior. The scene was now silent, aside from the crackling of hungry flames and the whimpers of their targets.

Shila walked slowly, almost lazily, towards the group, her expression a mask of indifference. "You dishonor us," she said quietly, stopping before them. The targeted family stared at her with wide eyes, or at least what was left of them: the servants had been slaughtered, along with what appeared to be the family's grandparents. Now all that remained was a young boy and his two parents.

"M-my Lady, I – " one began, only to be cut off by Shila's glare.

"I have no patience for your insolence," she continued, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the sounds of destruction. "Your weakness is a constant hindrance. If Father Satish would allow it, I would kill you all right here."

Several heads snapped up in surprise, their eyes wide with fear.

"Yes, I would very much like to kill you." Shila stooped beside the body of her fallen sister, brushing a strand of black hair from her face before retrieving the blade from her neck. She was not a wasteful woman. "But I'm afraid that isn't an option. You will put out these flames and search the property for valuables. You will then return home and explain what has happened to Father Satish."

"Yes, My Lady!"

"Right away, ma'am!"

"We won't fail you again, Lady Shila!"

Shila dismissed them all with a wave. They dispersed immediately, leaving her alone with her targets. She looked down at them calmly, tilting her head slightly to the side as if she were a curios little girl rather than a killer.

"P-please!" the father suddenly exclaimed, finding his courage in the absence of her siblings. "Take whatever you'd like, just please spare my son!"

Foolish man, she thought dully. Although I must commend his bravery.

She ignored his plea, instead turning her attention to the young boy. Like his parents, he sat on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest as he shook, silent tears streaming down his face. Shila crouched before him, her yellow eyes meeting his.

"Fire isn't to be feared, child," she told him, summoning her flames so that they now consumed her finger tips. She held her hand between herself and the child, the fire dancing around her fingers as they flicked from red to yellow to blue. "It is both life and death. Fire is beautiful." She cupped his cheek in her hand, his mother letting out a choked sob as she watched helplessly.

"Be quiet, stupid woman. Unlike my siblings, I have control. His skin will not burn," Shila snapped, her mood suddenly soured. This family was weak, and Shila had no patience for weakness. She sighed again – and to think, she had hoped this mission would be fun. "…Unless I want it to."

"Please! Just tell us what you want!" the woman begged despite Shila's previous warning. Shila felt the fire within her grow, and in a flash of temper she allowed for her hungry flames to lick the boy's cheek. His scream was piercing, and within seconds he was on the ground, writhing in agony with his hands clutching his cheek.

The woman scrambled to reach out to her son, but her husband restrained her. "Do you want to make things worse?" he hissed into her ear.

Shila grinned wickedly, her once even temperament now gone. "Your husband has more sense than you. I suggest you listen to him." She glanced down at the boy one last time, a frown tugging at her full lips.

She stood, her arms swinging limply at her sides, her beautiful flames extinguished for the time being. "It disgusts me how the rich act," she began, her tone cold. "The Ajibana's contribute to this horrible war only for personal gain. You indirectly kill others, and yet you have the audacity to beg for my mercy?" She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "No one as selfish as yourselves deserve to live."

Shila's eyes flashed dangerously, and she clenched her fists, the subtle command causing for both adults to go up in flames. The screams only lasted a split second before they were gone; Shila's flames were too hot, and she watched with a troubled expression as their flesh melted away, leaving behind nothing but a smoldering heap of ash and bones.

Tears welled up in the young woman's eyes suddenly, and she turned her back on the scene, taking several steps away and tilting her face upwards to take in the starry sky. Three deaths, three kills. She'd had far worse nights, but the toll it took was all the same.

"Fire is life," she said to no one in particular. "My burden is too heavy to bear."

She closed her eyes, letting a few stray tears trickle down her cheeks. Behind her, much to her surprise, she felt the boy begin to stir. She hadn't finished him, but he hadn't been a target to begin with.

I let my temper get the better of me. She should never have hurt the child, and immediately she felt regret. To kill a target was one thing, but to kill an innocent, to her, was unforgiveable.

Children of Fire were known for their short tempers. Shila, carrying within her the element's purest form, was no exception; if anything, being kissed by fire made her emotions fluctuate more than her siblings, but she thankfully was more disciplined than they were.

She heard the child stumble to his feet, pausing for a moment before charging at her, a tiny battle cry tumbling from his lips. Shila whirled around easily, knocking him aside with a single hand. He stayed down this time, his burnt face contorting in grief. She felt a pang of pity; he couldn't have been older than ten, and yet his life had already known so much suffering.

Shila smiled kindly down at him, the child returning her gaze with defiant hatred in his eyes. She was impressed by his lack of fear. She crouched before him once again, this time cupping his chin in her hand, forcing his wide eyes to peer into her own.

"I am not sorry for what has happened, but I am sorry that you must live through this," she told him softly, brushing hair back from his face gently, as would a mother to her child. "Your parent's crimes were not your own. You are not a target."

The Ajibana family was one of the older houses in the Earth Kingdom. They had once owned bountiful mines that had made their family unbelievably rich and powerful, but said mines had recently become less fruitful. They had since fallen into less reputable practices, forcing their miners to go too deep for too little pay. In order to stretch their dwindling fortune, they had also begun investing in the war effort. With conquest, many had found, came new lands and wealth. Father Satish does not tolerate such behavior, and so they had been targeted.

The child still seemed at a loss for words, overcome by his pain and grief. "Your suffering will never pass," she told him sagely. "But it will make you strong. No one is stronger than those who once paid the ultimate price for weakness."

Shila turned his face to the side, looking down with distaste at the ugly mark scarring his cheek. That stupid woman just had to push me, she thought with a scowl. Her handprint was etched into his flesh, the mark sticky and red. It would leave a scar - that much was certain.

Shila stood, her self-loathing threatening to overcome her. "You're a brave boy," she said. "I respect that quality, which is why you will live tonight. I invite you to find me again someday, when you're strong enough and fueled by enough hatred to stand a chance against me."

And with that she turned, exiting the same way she'd arrived. Her siblings had long since departed and were most likely at home receiving their punishments. Shila began to subconsciously walk home despite the blankness of her mind.

She always felt numb after a mission. It was easier, she found, to feel nothing in the face of so many emotions. Taking the lives of others slowly sapped away at her own humanity, she knew, but she would continue until it killed her.

For Father Satish. Everything was for him, for he'd once given her everything. He'd saved her from her pain - he'd given her a purpose.

Shila clenched her fists, her skin oddly sticky. Glancing down she realized that her hands were bloody, most likely from touching the face of that boy.

Tears once again spilled down her cheeks. Yes, she would do anything for Father Satish. She owed everything to him. But that didn't keep her from wishing that her hands could remain clean, at least for a while.

Fire was life, but Shila brought only death.

Author's Note: Here's a tame little murder scene to get things heated up. Sorry for any typos I might've missed, I'm not the best at editing so I'll fix more of them as I reread this later on! More explanation and whatnot as to what's happening to come, as well as some kickass fight scenes, so you should definitely follow/favorite this story so you can catch the next update!

Also… PLEASE REVIEW IF YOU'RE ENJOYING THUS FAR! :)