Like any little girl all I wanted was the love of my parents. Nothing overly extravagant one would think.
My rightful attention was stolen from me before I had even been conceived. My brother, heir apparent to the throne, had placed such charms upon my mother that no one entering the race late would have had any chance of capturing her favour. My mother, as globally loving as she appeared, had little time for me beyond that which would save her from the guilt that neglecting me would have caused her.
Were we both to fall- Zuko would be the one that she ran towards first. When she tucked us in at night Zuko would always be the one she saved till last- the treat at the end of the day. She told him wondrous stories late in to the night. When I pressed my ear up against the thin walls all I could make out were the gasps, the deep laughs and the muffled words. I fell asleep for years filled with sadness and longing.
My father had little use for me, he was already bitterly disappointed with the important child of the family- the heir. The trials of an irrelevant hanger-on should hardly register and as such rarely did. While my mother spent all her energy propping Zuko up, my father spent his time tearing him down.
It was through this dynamic that I finally stumbled upon my salvation- a method I could use to claw out of obscurity and shed the invisible cloak that seemed to surround me from the day of my birth.
The tutors called me a prodigy, they said I was amazing- that they had "never heard of one with such skill at such a young age". My first act of firebending was accidental, simply part of a routine drill used to ingrain correct form in preparation for later teachings. I took to the art within minutes- the fire flowed naturally from me as if such a feat was nothing at all.
I became fire, it was a part of me and I a part of it. More important to me was the look on my father's face after the instructors summoned him and he saw my display. He saw me, he looked right at me for the first time that I could remember- and for once in my life I felt real and whole and alive.
He told me that I was amazing, or at least that my actions were, and that "this is what true royalty should be". He ran across the palace and in to Zuko's room, I followed in a blind effort to extend the feelings that I could finally feel inside me. "Your sister can firebend and she is two years younger than you. You're useless Zuko, I am amazed that with your genes that you can be such a failure. I will not stand for this Zuko, you will learn firebending within the week or I will burn the lessons into you myself." I can still hear the words in my ears, like it had happened yesterday. With each new slant, and each new insult, my father turned to me and my smile grew each time his gaze fell upon me- readying himself for his next onslaught.
As my father stormed away, and Zuko started slobbering into his pillow, I stumbled away as if adrift. I had never been so happy, but suddenly I was struck with a sickness in the bottom of my stomach. I realised that it was a lie- I was still a by product, a meaningless hanger-on to reflect and enhance Zuko's failures.
I was no longer invisible, but all I had achieved was to become an inverse reflection, a shade, a spectre used for the purpose of ripping at my brother's soul. And he deserved it- for being weak, for taking what was mine, for being alive. It was in that moment that I decided that it didn't matter if love was born in affection or in hate- it only mattered that I had it.
At least as a shadow I could be seen when the fire burned bright.