Hi, guys! This is my first story, so please don't be too harsh, although I am always welcome to reviews and comments! Just an advanced announcement, if you are confused or whatever, there is some background knowledge on my profile, but, I warn you, it is a MAJOR spoiler alert!

So, enough of my blabbering, read this story and enjoy!

(It's set just before the end of the Hundred Year War, btw) Read on!

PROLOGUE

It was a dark, rainy night in the Fire Nation Capital. The thunder boomed and the lightning flashed above the dark, unlit houses beneath. The rain poured down harshly on the roofs and onto the stone ground. It was pitch black, the moon blocked out of sight by the storm clouds.

A tall, slim hooded figure holding a lantern ran through the storm, cradling a sleeping baby in her arm. She ran and ran, until she stopped outside a medium-sized house, which had a sign hanging from the porch roof, bashed back and forth by the howling wind. It read: 'AUNT ZIA'S ORPHANAGE'

The woman huffed for breath, having ran a very short distance, water dripped off her cloak. She wanted to take a rest, but she had no time. They were after her- she was not safe. She smiled sadly down at the sleeping baby, and leaned down to give it a gentle kiss on the forehead, "I love you, dearest. Stay safe" she whispered.

The woman gently laid the sleeping baby down on the wooden porch, and tucked a little sheet of paper into the baby's blanket.

Men's yells could be heard in the distance. The woman gasped and snapped her head over her shoulder. They were coming. She couldn't let them find the child. She knocked on the door urgently, before fleeing the scene into the dark alleyways. She was gone.

Aunt Zia grumpily shoved the duvet aside and stood up. Who could be calling at such an hour!? It was in the middle of the night! Oh, well, it seemed urgent, so she better check. It might be one of the soldiers, asking for tax. She scowled as she made her way down the corridor. Tax. Such a disgusting way for the rich to get richer. As if they don't have enough already.

She opened the front door, to be hit by a blast of wind. Looking around, she saw that nobody was there. Zia was about to shut the door again, but a small whimper coming from downwards stopped her. She looked down, and a gasp escaped her when she found a small baby lying there, wrapped in a small purple blanket.

"My goodness..." Zia bent down and picked the baby up, gently shushing her, "Poor child..."

She noticed a piece of paper sticking out from the blanket, she slipped it out and read it:

Dear reader,

I am desperate. Please take in my child and care for her, if not, she may not survive. Her name is Cela, and she is the light of my life. Nothing has pained me more than giving her up, but I have no choice.

-Her mother

When the baby opened her eyes, Zia gasped at their color. She had never seen ANYBODY with those magical, glimmering lilac purple eyes before.

From then on, she knew that this child was special. Very special indeed.