prelude: The Commander's Nightmare

The little girl ran right through the riverside and into the small clearing next to it. Her short, thick, auburn hair flew around like a small sea of clotted blood; her childish, sweet laugh echoed through the place like an elusive fairy.

She was an elusive fairy.

"Catch me if you can!" Her playful invitation was drowned into a big pant as she gathered speed to race towards the nearby forest.

The woman behind her was at her limits. She could keep the pace with the girl thus far, but she was getting exhausted. She tried to reach the girl, but she was too fast, and her little form got further and further away with each passing moment. The woman was desperate. She could only see the girl's flowing hair and the sight crushed her heart. She wanted to catch her and hug her – to look into her eyes and kiss her forehead, and the thought that she couldn't do it was unbearable.

"Wait for me!" The woman's cry sounded rather pitiful, and the girl didn't listen to it either. With a big hop, she jumped into the bushes between the trees, vanishing from the woman's eyes, leaving only a feeble echo of laughter for her.

The woman began to panic, but it was too late. A twisted scream tore the world apart, turning it inside out. The riverside and the forest disappeared, and a big room took their place. It looked like a big bar or living-room. Its wooden walls and floor were of fine Fire Nation quality, and the reddish furniture inside was also finely crafted and noticeably valuable. The scene was painfully familiar for the woman. She couldn't catch the girl… She never could. And now, she had to suffer the consequences.

She could already feel the pain of the bruises and the pulsing numbness around the deep wound on her left thigh. She stumbled a step backwards…

…only to be kicked in the stomach with such power that it sent her flying across the room and crashing into a cabinet. Her scream of pain consumed the last bits of her strength. The world became blurry and distant for her as she struggled to stand up. But just as she thought she would find some spare power to at least run away, a massive figure walked into sight. The man was big and strong – very strong – and his naked upper body was covered with blood and bruises. His eyes were burning with savage fury and his lips were frozen into a dreadful snarl.

At this stage, the women couldn't even hope to fend him off, but she tried. The man was unrelenting though, easily pushing aside the woman's feeble attack. He grabbed her like a doll, flinging her on the top of the bar counter. The woman tried to protect her head with her arms as the man swept the bar counter with her, but she could feel the glass breaking under her and tearing into her body. A few jagged pieces found an especially bad angle, rending her face and forcing a shrieking scream of pain out of her.

She landed hard on the floor, but the man had other plans with her. He picked her up and threw her through a door into another room. At this point, the woman was completely helpless. She lay on the floor curled up, grasping the fresh, gruesome scar on her face. She was wailing there, devastated and defeated and ready for the killing blow.

But the finishing strike never came. The man roughly pushed her onto something soft instead, and when the woman felt that she had landed on a bed, a realization struck her. With a sudden surge of strength, she struck out once more, trying to claw into the man like an animal, but her attack met with an equally bestial resistance. She could feel the man pushing aside her hand. She could feel him as he held down her head with one hand. She could feel his other hand greedily grabbing her hip…

The Commander woke up with a terrified yell. She could still feel the softness of a bed, and for a moment, she thought that she was still dreaming. She struck out towards her assailant, but her forceful punch hit a metal wall. The metallic clang finally brought her to her senses as she realized that she wasn't in the same place now. She was in a different place, in a different time.

She got out of bed to wash away her nightmare. The small ship cabin had only a few marks of comfort, but it at least included a small water tap. The cold water was a true blessing for her, as it swept away the dark clouds of her nightmare, freeing her mind from their grasp. But as she looked up into the mirror hung over the tap, she could feel her momentary lightness dissolving too. Even in the dim light of the cabin, the ugly scar on the left side of her face was clearly visible: it ran from the left end of her temple through her left eye, ending just above her lips. It was wide, deep and badly healed; at some places even the white of the skull was visible. It ruined the otherwise strikingly beautiful face of the Commander: her mild and soft features, sharp green eyes and strong lips. For the Commander, this scar was not just an aesthetical hideousness, but also a mark.

A mark of the other scars she has, both on her body and inside her very soul.

A mark of a woman with stained honor and a terrible burden.

The mark of a defiled woman.

The Commander looked away from the mirror. She couldn't take it anymore. Her tears blurred her sight, and her body was shaking from the memories she relived again.

Defiled forever.