CHAPTER 1 — P'LI

From the beginning, ever since she could remember, all P'li knew was the pain.

Her childhood years were hazy with a dark, maroon cloud — dizzy when she woke up, dizzy when she tried to spiral into the black oblivion of sleep. Weeks spent in the darkest room of their small house in the Earth Kingdom colony her family called home, the vague, most disconnected sense that someone was sitting with her, wiping her forehead sometimes with a damp, cool cloth.

And then of course the episodes of blinding white where all she could feel was the energy bursting under her skin, steam curling off of her, screaming and screaming as her fist punched blast after blast after blast of fire, trying desperately to rid itself of heat. During those moments her parents were forced to bring her outside and dunk her body in the river, and the cold shock of water right before it began to boil sometimes felt more painful than the fire itself.

She didn't remember much of her family from these years. The cleanest memories she had were probably of her mother, how they sat in that dark room in the back of the house. Once, she had set fire to her own hair, and her mother had spent an hour sitting with her, cutting away the singed ends, the smell of smoke and burning flesh still thick in the room. P'li had trouble picturing her face, but she could easily remember the feel of her hands, calluses scraping against the back of her skull. They had been farmers — both of her parents non-benders, her two younger siblings (Rai'yu and Wen) both non-benders as well.

She had been the only "special" one. She could laugh at the word. "Cursed" was more accurate.

She didn't have much time between the episodes to really go to school or make friends. Her parents had certainly tried, and she had moments of bright blue clarity where she could remember standing on the edge of their rice fields, dirt between her toes, inhaling the sharp scent of water and mud and feeling the green slowness of things growing. She could remember how some of the other children played in the center of town, a few earthbenders using their talents to win at kickball and some firebenders playing hide and explode. There were even a few waterbenders, products of Water Tribe diaspora and mixed families. But she had never really been included, even though her younger siblings were popular. Her body was too weak to keep up with either game, and at any moment she could double over with pain, or lash out wildly in panic.

Her father hadn't wanted her near the fields, not since one of her episodes had boiled one of their paddies almost into desert sand, so she spent most of her healthy time crouching by the river that bordered the town, skipping rocks, soaking her feet, hunting for frogs. These were the best parts of her childhood, and the easiest. No one around to hurt but herself. The water so blue she could disappear into it.

These were the memories she held onto the most, these days. The memories she slipped into during hard moments. Like now.

P'li took a deep breath, closing her eyes, focusing her energy in the pit of her gut, and then clenched her stomach, breathing outwards and letting the energy release in a perfect spiral towards her target: a house teetering on stilts.

The house exploded in a cloud of flame and splintered wood. As the dust began to clear and the screams began, she heard Lord Kaito's voice ring above it all.

"That was your first warning. You see what I can do to a building, a structure of wood and nails. Now imagine it for your children. Your husband. Your wife." P'li felt the crowd of villagers — corralled into a tight circle in the center of town by Kaito's rhinos — draw in a collective breath. She saw a mother's hand push her child closer to her body, and then forced herself to look away, towards the sky. It was such a pretty blue today, peppered with white fluffy clouds. It was harvest season, she realized. What a beautiful start to autumn.

"But you can prevent that." Lord Kaito stepped towards the crowd, and P'li could feel them leaning away from him. She didn't have to look at his face to know he was smiling. "And further, come into my protection. All you need to do is surrender your town to my control."

Surrender. The word had a hollow ring.

"I know what your protection looks like." A voice spat. A man emerged from the crowd, in dark green garb and a rough beard. He was tall and muscled. An earthbender's body. P'li knew, suddenly, irresistibly, that he was also a farmer. She pushed the thought away.

As the man stepped forward a woman reached for his shoulder, as if to grab him back, her face pale with terror. A little girl's hands were fisted in her skirt. The man ignored her and glared at Kaito, who was still smiling. "I know what your protection looks like." He repeated. "Towns overrun by your thugs. Villages starving. You say you will protect us, but who protects us from you?"

Kaito's face didn't change. "Is that your lovely wife and daughter behind you?"

Two ground soldiers moved quickly forward and tore them from the crowd. The little girl began screaming. P'li closed her eyes. Harvest season. Blue sky. The river. She felt herself slowly detach from her physical body, and the scene before her unfolded like it was part of a mover. Like it was happening to someone else.

The little girl was still screaming as the soldiers wrenched her from her mother, and the woman began shouting too. The man started towards his wife and child but two more soldiers grabbed both of his arms, forcing him to his knees in front of Kaito. The crowd cried out, a few men beginning to move, but twin blasts of fire from Kaito's men at their feet stopped them in their tracks.

"Now are you worried about your family starving?" Kaito's voice was smooth and casual, as if he too were simply admiring the weather. The girl was still screaming, but somehow his voice floated above it. "You shouldn't be. So many things happen before a little girl starves." He didn't make an order, but P'li knew her cue when she heard it. The soldier pushed the daughter forward, and she stumbled a few feet away from him, looking dazed and confused, before she started wailing again. P'li saw, rather than felt, her own body breathe in and then suddenly out, an explosion aimed right before the little girl's feet. A crater opened up before her in a cloud of dust, and the girl stopped, dirt now smeared on her face, a cut opening on her lip where rubble had hit her. Her mouth hung open, dumb-founded, and P'li could see the childhood immortality all children thought they had die in her eyes.

Her father lunged against his captors, but they held him fast. His wife began sobbing, and screaming had started in the crowd again.

P'li ignored the eyes turned towards her. The sun feels so nice.

Kaito waved a hand. "Let him go to his family."

The soldiers let go of the man's arms and he ran as both his wife and daughter were released. He clutched them both to his chest, but the girl didn't meet her father's eyes. Inexplicably, her eyes also found P'li's.

"I am not a cruel man." Kaito turned his back on the embracing family. He paced around the crowd slowly. "I am here to protect your town, not destroy it. You all should be grateful that I am offering to protect your pathetic grain fields. And all you have to do is concede to the demands of my forces."

It happened in a flash.

The man rushed towards Kaito, his eyes full of rage. He took an earthbender's stance, pushing both his fists towards his back. Earth burst from the ground in a craggy line, headed for his spine.

P'li breathed in without thinking. And let out.

The house behind the man exploded, knocking him off his feet and disrupting his stance. He was given time for one quick glance over his shoulder before the sidewall crashed into him, burying him under tons of cement.

The crowd burst into shouting once more, and over it, P'li could hear the low, desperate wail of his wife.

Kaito hadn't even turned around. He began to walk away from the circle, back towards his carriage. He brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders. "Get the villagers under control. Don't bother sparing the ones who won't cooperate. Farmers these days are a dime a dozen."

As the rest of the troops moved in, fire leaping from their fists, P'li followed Kaito. This wasn't her job, to corral petty townspeople, after all. She was Kaito's right hand, his weapon, his outstretched fist. The Demon's Shadow, they had begun to call her, if their intelligence could be believed. She went where he went.

The screaming echoed at their backs for a long time before they drove out of range, but P'li never looked back.