Azula's first true memory, unblurred with childish perception, was of her older sister smiling serenely as she held her.

Her older sister was always a bit of a puzzle to Azula, with iridescent flames almost clear if it wasn't for an almost glass like quality that caused them to shine with color from the right angle. No matter how rare it was for her to use her flames at all.

Her older sister who had given up her birthright as crown princess as soon as she was old enough. Her sister whose eyes were the prettiest gold webbed with cracks of black as though made of broken porcelain.

Eyes that everyone in the palace from lowly servant to the Firelord himself, seemed to avoid for some reason. The only exception being herself and Zuzu. Azula had no idea why, they were the most entrancing thing she had ever seen. (Even if looking at them too long made her brain itch in the oddest way, (Grant US Eye So That We May See))

Her older sister who was seemingly enchanted by spirit tales, who sometimes looked at her as though she was surprised to have them and just smiled people into doing what she wanted them to. (Her sister who sometimes faded like mist and drifted through the palace as though a part of a dream.)

But that was fine as Azula knew she would always be there, (Even when Mothers attitude varied between looking at Azula like she was a monster, or stranger. Even when Father behaved as though she was pet, in need of training.) Smiling serenely as her eyes burned with light that made Azula think of dying stars, Zuzu at her side as he clung to her arm, as her parents suddenly had somewhere else to be.

Her sister who always had stories to tell at night while Mother and Father Screamed at each other loud enough to be heard through the thick palace walls.

Stories about spirits, about how the world formed from the grandest tapestry, dipped in blood older than time, and sweet enough to infect their dreams. About how a great incomprehensible Not-Serpent had stumbled upon the weave of the world and changed it all with its mere presence.

(And every night they slipped into sleep without a worry, as they slipped into a grove filled with the most beautiful flowers with a doll so tall and gentle as it played with them until they woke to the sunlight. Never noticing the great serpent sleeping around the grove it's scales weaved of moonlight as blood sweeter than anything else dripped from it's flesh as it dreamed a pleasant dream.)

Azula's first memory was of her older sister Sai, smiling serenely as her eyes, gold enough for the sun to pale, shined with moonlight. (and smelled ever so oddly, of freshly spilled blood)

(Azula: 1 Insight)

(Zuko: 1 Insight)

I have no clue how much time has passed since I fell down that hole.

Really, I don't have a clue.

But one thing I do know, is that I really want to talk with something that can talk back. The badger-mole are adorable and really quite good company, but they (for obvious reasons) are not good conversationalists.

So after who knows how long down here, I have finally decided it's time to leave. So saying goodbye to all my badger-mole friends, including Fred whom I've been using as a very fluffy bed since I fell and Moma Badger mole, who had mothered me my entire time down here.

I set off with far more badger mole slobber on my face than was pleasant and with a fair bit more of my hair chewed off than was preferred.

It took some time to leave the caves if only because I was trying to find one close to human civilization, but once I did I was lucky enough to find one with what looked like a group of people hanging around the entrance.

I assume they're some sort of merchant caravan with the horse analogs as various wagons. So I planned to ask them if they could point me in the way of a town or something.

Of course that plan goes off the rails when one of them shoves a bag of some sort of bag over my head.

I feel like Should be surprised, but honestly this just seems like par for the course at this point.

I hope the doll is having a better time than me.

If not, then I might have to light someone on fire.

Once Again I'm not sure how long the group of what I'm assuming to be slavers? Child smugglers? I'm just going to go with kidnappers, had me tied up in one of their wagons.

Mostly because they didn't seem to reference time very often, but guessing by how the heat on my skin varied from burning hot to almost freezing, I'm going to say about four or five days.

To be entirely truthful I could have broken out as soon as they had the bag over my head, but the sheer novelty of having other people talking was enough to have me holding back on a breakout until we reached our destination.

Though the last five days have been enough for me to understand the general situation, they were bringing us somewhere for some kind of ceremony.

Hadn't picked on much other than that, and that there were other children (four to be exact) trussed up in cages just like me.

The novelty of other people talking had almost worn off at this point, but it was still odd enough that when the cage was opened and one of the kidnappers (A man who glowed a sickly yellow to my eldritch senses) yelled for me to get out I didn't bother complaining. Even If I had just found a comfortable spot in the cage for the first time since my capture.

The second my bare feet hit the ground, or more correctly sand, it was like the world was forced into clarity as I could now tell that had were four wagons. Each of them holding one child, all of us with bands of what assume to be cloth around our eyes, and a bag over our heads. Kind of Redundant I guess what with the ropes also tied at our wrists but whatever.

They forced us into a line, while one of the Kidnappers spoke about what was going on.

I wasn't paying much attention, but apparently this was a sacrifice to a spirit. They would drop us off in the desert while telling us the direction of safety, we would Have three nights before the spirit would begin to hunt us. If we reached safety then yay us, otherwise we'd get eaten by the spirit. Every child eaten would go towards the further prosperity of their village. While those who survived would (From what I could gather, they didn't exactly say it but based on their tones of voice an malicious sense of humor, it was definitely implied.) Be killed before they could escape the desert.

Probably to keep the hole, "We kidnap random children and feed them to a spirit in order to better our own lives." thing.

So meh on the danger scale for me, but might be an issue for the other children.

I wonder if it's just me or if ill intentioned adults are just this common in this world.

Probably just me.

Either way, I now had to survive the desert with a suicidally depressed boy (Based on the searingly empty blue he emitted.), a perpetually enraged girl (She glowed the most beautiful pulsating orange), and an aptly resigned boy, (An ugly not-yellow infused with sickening magenta crystals seemingly crumbling in on itself.).

I definitely had my work cut out for me, especially if we all wanted to get out of this alive.