Hello everyone! It's so exciting to see all of the views from different parts of the world. Thank you for your support of this story, and I apologize for any errors concerning content of the Avatar universe. I do not own ATLA, or any of the characters. Enjoy, and it would mean so much if you left a review!


The sun had barely begun to show her face by the time my arms felt like lead from paddling so hard and I had to stop. It was barely dawn and I was exhausted, but I could no longer see the coast, much less my village.

My plan was to follow the sun, using the path as a compass. I knew I had to get north, but the Fire Nation was a long ways to go by sea. I had to get to the Earth Kingdom first, and find a better ship to take me.

I rested for a little while, taking time to eat a little, and then curled up to nap on the bottom of the boat. I didn't want to think about the possibility that I was very lost, and totally alone on a tiny canoe in the middle of a great big ocean.

As I slept, I dreamt of my parents, my real parents. I saw shadows of a man and a woman, holding each other, comforted by each other's presence. Their forms were cast in a warm red light, and I heard hushed whispers, but couldn't place a conversation. But somehow I knew, these were my parents, Ozai and Kita, and I received a strange comfort in this, seeing my parents for the first time. But it was as if I were standing behind a screen, watching them, but not truly being there. I awoke feeling empty inside, and utterly lost.

I paddled more and more throughout the day, trying to ignore the ache in my arms that was only growing stronger. I had barely a concept of time, and as the sun began to hide away behind a blanket of clouds, my anxiety only increased. With every worrisome thought that entered my mind, I made myself push it away. I would get to land again, and I would soon, even though all this water made me uneasy. I was so small compared to the massive sea, and if the canoe were to capsize... I would be swallowed whole with no trace.

I sang old songs my mother had taught me to pass the long hours, Water Tribe melodies about the ice and cold. I still shivered inside my blue parka with the quiet gusts of wind that occasionally came, and wondered if I would ever feel warm again.

By mid-afternoon, it began to rain. At first, it was a light drizzle, tolerable if I put up my hood, but it only worsened, and it appeared that I was only paddling right into the heart of it. My heart sank, and I moaned aloud in desperation. Why had I taken a canoe? I had no cover whatsoever from the elements, and I was now exhausted and freezing cold.

In my desperation, I even tried firebending again. I remembered the warmth of the flame around my fist, and tried clenching and unclenching, to no results. I thought of my family, and knew they had to have found my letter by now. I bowed my head, curling up in guilt, knowing if I died out here, I didn't have to spare them the shame of raising a fire bender.

I was out at sea for three more days. My emotions varied from cursing my own idiocy to deeply missing my family. Who was I to think I could row my way to the Fire Nation? The sea was much larger than I thought it would be, and my food supplies were quickly dwindling. I had no chance of making it alone at sea. I never should have left home. At the very least, I had solid ground beneath my feet, and food always close by. Not this frightening, frigid nothingness that I knew would be my end.

I had begun to realize that I would die out here, the massive ocean making for my watery grave. I had never been before more blindly afraid.

On the fifth day, I caught sight of land. At first, I didn't believe my eyes; the flat stretch of land against the rocking ocean floor seemed impossible. But as I rowed nearer and nearer, I saw a faraway sand, and then a coastline of trees. Inspiration seized my weak, tired bones, and I paddled as quickly as I could manage.

I collapsed onto the shore, onto the gray, wet sand, and stared up at the cloudy, dark skies. The ground beneath me wasn't swaying and rocking, and the waves lapping up and then retreating around me did not threaten to drown me. I was still.

I gathered my strength and pulled the canoe out of the water and onto the beach, where I gathered my supplies up and took an inventory. I had no food, only blankets and a thin ration of fresh water left. I had made it to land, but at what cost? My lips were parched, my brain felt as if it were enshrouded in a cloud. Hunger ate away at my stomach, and I was shivering constantly from the cold that wouldn't leave me.

The beach offered little protection from the impending rain, and I overturned my tiny canoe and propped up one end with a large tree branch. I told myself that I would sleep for just a little while, and when I awoke, the first thing that I would do was find something to eat.

Under the shield of the canoe, I wrapped myself in all of my blankets, and slipped into unconsciousness.

I awoke in a dreary haze to a blinding sun. Right away, I knew something was wrong. My weakened body felt like lead, and my skin felt hypersensitive and freezing cold. I drank the last of my water and wearily looked around, clutching a blanket around my shoulders. I couldn't die here, alone on this forsaken island. Not today.

Gathering scraps of wood from the thicket of trees bordering the shore, I tried to set up a fire on the beach. I had no matches, no flint or stone, and I resolved that I had to learn how to conjure a flame on my own. I had to try.

I opened my palm slowly, keeping my hand stiff with tension and gently blew against my palm. To my surprise, a smattering of sparks emerged, floating in the air before disintegrating. My eyes widened in shock, and I tried it again, carefully adjusting my breath to balance the amount of sparks produced. If I breathed too hard, the flame would go out, but if I were too soft, the flame wouldn't ignite at all. After many careful tries, I was able to get my tiny fire to light, a thin trail of smoke rising against the grey skies.

I moved my canoe over towards the fire and tried to shelter myself as best as I could, using the heat from my tiny fire to keep me warm. And as sick and weary as I felt, I couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride for making this fire all by myself. How long I could last like this though, I didn't know. I stared out at the empty ocean, and thought about how far I was from home.

Before the afternoon slipped into night, I spotted a shadow along the horizon, a dark, solid against the placid waves. I stood up, trying to get a better look, and then my heart went cold. I had only seen one once in my entire life, and I had been very young. Fear settled in and took stronghold in my heart. A Fire Nation warship…

To my dismay, I saw that it was nearing closer and closer into view. The sleek, steely black body with the tall smokestack looming high above and the sharp hook at the bow symbolized everything that my people loathed and feared. My first instinct was to run, but a new thought came to me. I was of the Fire Nation, as they were. I had nothing to fear, for the enemy's blood ran in my veins too.

I wrapped the blankets more tightly around myself and tried to calm the fear in my heart. All I had to do was prove to them I was a firebender, and I surely would not be harmed, right? I sat down, trying to stay calm, as the massive ship stopped about twenty yards from shore. "You have nothing to be afraid of," I muttered to myself, watching the hook of the ship open and begin to slightly lower, allowing for a smaller vessel to depart and head straight for the shore.

Without thinking, my hand went to Ozai's dagger, hidden beneath my clothes. I passed the sheathed blade between my fingers nervously, hoping beyond all hope that today would not be the day I died. I saw a small rowboat filled with three soldiers slowly moving towards me, and I let go of the dagger, taking care to leave it concealed.

"Who are you?" A commanding male's voice rang out. "What are you doing on this island?"

"My name is Anahi!" I called back, my voice sounding ragged and hoarse. "I came here on my canoe."

"A member of the Water Tribe…" The rowboat landed on the beach, and the three soldiers stepped out. They seemed to tower over me in their full military uniform, and with the haunting, white masks on, I felt as if I were staring into the faces of demons. I tried to stay calm.

"I'm not Water Tribe," I tried, looking down at my blue and grey clothing. "I know it looks it, but I'm not of the Water Tribe. I'm a firebender."

"A firebender," One of the soldiers scoffed. "I doubt it."

"Don't try and pretend, little girl," Another added. "I know who you are. A trespasser, a runaway. And you have the gall to pretend you are one of us!" The rest laughed, and I felt my blood boil.

"Do not mock me!" I stood up and shouted, but too quickly. My head spun, and my stomach gave a sharp ache and I collapsed against the wet sand. Quickly, I felt strong arms wrap around my body, pulling me up, and dragging me into the rowboat.

"You're coming with us," One of the soldiers sneered. "You can answer to Captain Song." The rest chuckled maliciously, and I turned and looked back at my canoe, my supplies, and my miniscule fire in despair. What was going to become of me now? Was I now a prisoner of the nation I belonged in?