Prologue: This is Me

Journal Entry 1: 5/9/492

My name is Maida and I am sixteen years old. I'm writing this journal so that if someone reads it, preferably hundreds of years after my death, they will understand something about me.

I am an orphan. My parents were killed in a fire set by Fire Nation troops. They were killed because of me. My mother was a water-bender, and my father was a fire-bender. The Punir, a rebellion group, saved me from the fire and raised me. At least, that's what they told me.

I can bend both of my parents' elements, but my water is always scalding, and my fire always cold. Hence my alias, Cold Flame. That's what everyone calls me. I'm not even supposed to know my name, but my adopted father told me accidentally.

I am an assassin. I fight for the Punir, 'dealing with' commanders and tacticians of the Fire Nation and their allies. I'm on a mission right now, to 'deal with' a commander of the Earth Kingdom. His name is Jet, and he's very close to Fire Lord Zuko. If tonight goes as planned, he will be dead before sunrise. The Cold Flame will strike once more.

You know, when I think about it, I am two people. When I'm on a mission, I'm cold, heartless, and calculating.

When I'm between missions, I'm…someone else. I'm scared, lonely, and I wonder. I wonder if my parents loved me, if they wanted me. I dream about my father sometimes, I hear him singing to me. I miss him, but I won't admit it. That's my dearest and most lucrative dream.

To feel a father's love.

The girl sighed, deeming the entry good enough, for the time being. Her short black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she was dressed all in black. Dao broadswords crossed their sheaths on her back, but they were the only obvious weapons. Others were hidden in various places on her being. She leaned against the tree trunk, balanced on the limb yards above the ground. A campsite wasn't too far, flying the flag of the Earth Kingdom.

She closed and locked her journal, placing it in the small bag she carried for that purpose. She would leave the bag behind when she went to finish her mission. Then she could return to the place she lived, the Punir headquarters. Maida flatly refused to call it her home. The Punir hated her, and she knew it.

She leapt from the branch, landing lightly on the ground, her eyes flashing in the moonlight. Her eyes were by far the most distinguishing quality about her. They were a subtle ocean blue, but rimmed in a bright gold, which was far from subtle.

Maida kept to the shadows, and made her way towards the camp, specifically to the commander's tent. Most of the soldiers were asleep, so her presence went unnoticed. Finally, outside the tent, she slipped off her broadswords and smiled. She lived for the adrenaline of the mission. It was the only thing that kept her alive, her one shining moment. Would my father be proud of what I've become? I doubt it. She shoved the thought from her head and focused on her mission.

She slipped inside the tent, her eyes for the unsuspecting commander. He was dressed in Earth Kingdom honor, minus the hat, and his back was turned to her. She cleared her throat and he spun around, and then straightened. He looked regal and proud, and she smiled.

"Who are you?" Her smile grew wider.

"I am the Cold Flame." His eyebrows raised.

"I didn't know that my rank was substantial enough to deserve the attentions of the Cold Flame."

"It's not, but your affiliations with the Fire Lord are." His eyes smiled, even as he frowned.

"So our suspicions were correct. You are Punir." Her eyes flashed fire.

"I've worked for them before. I work for anyone willing to pay." He shook his head.

"I doubt that. You are a child, just a little girl. I doubt you are heartless enough to have taken such a career so young."

"You'd be wrong!"

She drew out a dagger and threw it at him, which he dodged and drew twin hook-swords. But she was prepared. She'd been studying him and knew his weapons of choice. She blocked his blow, bringing her fist sharply into his jaw. He jerked back, surprised by the power behind her blow. She snatched one of the hook-swords and sliced it across his throat in a glancing strike, not enough to kill him. A few moments of physical fighting, and she pinned him to the ground, one knee on each arm. Blood flowed from the scratch on his throat but he glared at her.

"Why are you doing this? Because you were told to?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you want to kill me? What have I done to you?"

He wasn't begging, merely stating a fact, and she hated it.

"Shut up."

"Or what? You'll kill me? You're going to do that already!"

"Fast or slow! Your choice!"

His eyes danced.

"You don't have the nerve to kill me slowly. Every murder you've committed shows that." He leaned up, looking her in the eyes, to bark a cutting remark, but the words froze in his throat as he stared at her unique eyes.

"Dear God…Mai…" He didn't get any further. She stood, broke the hook from the blade, and lit it with her fire. She then slammed in through his chest and into the ground. His eyes went wide. He'd expected heat, but instead the blade was searingly cold. She hissed in anger.

"That's why I am the Cold Flame."

His eyes were sad and met hers. She stared at him dumbstruck as he spoke, and she ran from the tent.

Jet lay on the floor of his tent, his life's blood slowly staining the ground. He had to let the Fire Lord know somehow, what he'd discovered. He dipped his fingers in his own blood and wrote one word on the ground beside him.

When his men found him and wrote their report, they disregarded that word. If they had included it, this story would have never happened.

The word was…Maida.