Air Nomads raised me, and Air Nomads I shall forever call my people.
Orphaned when I was still an infant, a woman found me on the ground, scooped me up in her arms, and continued to run. It was a raid on the Southern Air Temple, the sixth in a series. The captains of the Fire Nation's army had been foolish enough to bring their families with them. Somebody dropped me as the retaliation struck. She cared enough about me to drop my fragile body in weeds before running for her life.
The woman who found me was an Airbender named Xellos. I knew her simply as Mother. We lived at the elusive Eastern Air Temple, which nobody had cared to find. She lived a simple life, living like a monk and giving up all possessions that linked her to the material world—all save for me. I remember feeling her pate after she had just shaved it. She also shaved my head, if I remember correctly. Other children did not tease me too often about it.
I grew up with other Airbenders, and could not quite figure out why I could not control air like my friends. For the first five years of my life, my people trained me in the ways of airbending, the breathing and the movement among other things, unaware of the completely different power that had not yet shown itself. The first time I even remember fire coming from inside of me was when I had a bad cold. I sneezed, and fire came out of my nose, burning my legs. My mother had a firm discussion with the monks, the leaders of the Eastern Air Temple, and they determined that as long as it were never discovered, I could practice my new ability.
Therefore, I became the most unusual sort of bender one can imagine. Using the techniques taught to me by monks, I mastered firebending faster, and more efficiently, than any woman on record. At first, my fire seemed to float away, burning the trees, carried by the back drafts of my airbending counterparts. I soon learned that fire is more matter than air, and therefore handling it took more aggression. One woman whose name escapes me taught me to kick flames and direct them towards a target. Another man showed me the proper way to spread fire everywhere without direct damage to myself. I learned to block fire myself, of course. I would send out the fire and my mother would blow it back to me, I crossing my arms and deflecting.
I was very much an aid in the cooking and cleaning, but other things, like floating, were foreign to me.
I was fifteen when Iroh came. He was eighteen, and very handsome. The first thing he told me was that the Fire Nation was going to attack. I had heard of the Fire Nation, but did not identify myself with them. I was simply an airbender with special abilities.
In the beginning, I was as wary as any other. His demeanor was of an airbender gone astray. He seemed so cool and collected—hardly the hotheaded stereotype I had grown up believing. But once he gathered a flame in his palm, what was supposed to be a threat, I knew. I grabbed his hand, and, marveling on how callused and hot it was, took him straight to the monks. He explained himself and warned the monks to leave. They did not take his warning seriously. He left out the fact that he was the Fire Lord's heir.
Those three days I spent with him, I was instantly entranced.
That was the first time I broke the law. I could not help it.
The Fire Nation's attacks were swift and cunning, too much for the simple monks to handle. Chaos erupted that day, and I remember sending out bursts of flame, and, for the first time, having them sent back to me. A few confused soldiers thought that I was one of them, but what would a small child, dressed in airbender garb with a shaved head, no less, be doing fighting? My friends fell, one by one. The soldiers of the Fire Nation knocked me out and brought me on their ship. I still do not know where Mother Xellos is, or whether she is still alive.
Prince Iroh brought me tea and noodles and stayed in the dungeon for hours on end, talking to me. He said he was sorry for what his nation did. He said that, once he was Fire Lord, he would stop the senseless butchery and once again bring peace to the world. He never got that chance. Backing out at the last minute, Ozai was the new Lord of the Fire Nation. After we were married, he stopped the attacks on Air Temples. But it was too late. There were no Air Nomads left. The Fire Nation wiped them out.
He made me grow my hair to rid me of the blue arrow I tattooed on my head. It is still there, along with the arrows on my hands, feet, and chest. Ozai makes me wear copious amounts of makeup and clothing in order to hide them.
I was his Lady, and his Lady I remain.
I still feel rushes of anger when my husband makes me hide my heritage. It is not good for his reputation, he says, to have married an Airbender. I shaved my head; he makes me wear a wig. I air out my forehead for one minute; he blows sparks at me, yelling to ensure makeup on his wife. Zuko still does not know of my secret lineage. The only time I have been bare faced around him was when he nursed, thirteen years ago.