Chapter One: Backstory

"I don't think we're going to make it in time," Kael said, running his hand across the fluff of the exhausted air bison. The two days of flying prior had been filled with storms, leaving the giant creature slow and exhausted with several hundred miles to go. "He needs to rest."

"He's not the only one," Nimera replied with a playful smile, rubbing her very-pregnant belly. She shifted slightly, feeling the baby kick against her hand, a small reminder of the new life growing inside her.

Kael rose to his feet, gliding towards his beautiful wife with all the grace of a master air-bender and lovesick pup. "Then let us all rest," he declared, lovingly bringing her into his embrace. Her round belly squished against his flat one, their warm skin conveying the connection and intimacy that encapsulated their lives. The smell of fresh rain lingered in the air, a contrast to the warmth of her body against his. "I doubt Gyatso will even notice our absence."

Nimera laughed, the song-like sound causing a flutter in her husband's heart. Gyatso, her grandfather, would certainly notice their absence and they both knew it. But then, he'd taken so closely to young Aang, perhaps the energetic boy would keep him busy enough not to be too bothered by their absence.

Later that evening, Gyatso did notice their absence. And in his final moments, as the Fire Nation soldiers surrounded him in their blistering flames, the heat searing his skin and the acrid smell of smoke filling his nostrils, as he made the greatest sacrifice and sucked the very life air from the temple itself, he thanked the heavens for their immense mercy – that his granddaughter and her unborn child, and the young Avatar he'd come to love like another son – were both gone, somewhere safe from the genocidal wrath of the Fire Nation.

. . .

Nimera and Kael, after discovering what had happened to their home, fled to the Earth Kingdom as refugees. The journey was arduous and their struggles amplified in their despair. Kael would die before they ever arrived, sacrificing himself to serve as a distraction so Nimera and his unborn child could live.

When Nimera arrived in Riole – the small, coastal Earth Kingdom village – she was a broken shell of the joyful person she once was. She would raise a air-bending son, Harku, who would then marry a non-bending woman, Tora. Together, they would have more non-bending children. Two more generations of non-benders later, Lyra was born – the youngest of five.

. . .

The Fire Nation attacked Riole in the spring, nearly 90 years later. It was nothing short of a slaughter.

"Panko!" Rayna howled for her husband, her two toddlers in her arms, and two more small children on either leg, all a mess of tears and terror. The air was thick with smoke, the roar of flames and the screams of villagers creating a symphony of chaos. Fire surrounded them, and her youngest babe – only three days old – wailed from inside the burning home her husband had just dashed inside of to save. "PANKO!" The flames engulfed the door and windows, the heat so intense it felt like it was scorching her skin even from a distance, every crackling second feeling like an eternity of torment.

The young mother was filled with panicked resolve, waiting these painstaking moments for her husband to save their youngest child. Save her, save her, save her, she prayed. Her heart pounded, tears lined her soot-stained face. The taste of salt from her tears mingled with the bitterness of the smoke. She was not leaving without all of her babies! Tighter the young ones clutched to her, and tighter she held onto her toddlers. Save her, she prayed, agony pouring from her.

"Momma!" her other children wailed, their small hands clutching.

And…

She didn't even see the fire-glazed cannonball before it collided with them, and her world – and that of her four children – went dark forever.

Panko pushed the hot rubble off himself and the sweet babe he had managed to save before the house came crashing down on top of them. She coughed, then cried, and it was the music to his ears. She was okay.

"Rayna –" he began, looking for his wife and other children, cradling his fragile infant in his bloodied and burned arm. He found them immediately – or at least, what was left of them. The metallic scent of blood mixed with the charred smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed him in a nauseating wave. A heavy, indescribable horror filled his heart and an agonizing scream escaped him. His body trembled and he fell to his knees, into the pool of blood and gangly meat chunks that was now his family, their fresh, warm lifeblood soaking into his clothes.

"You there – put your hands up!" a Fire Nation soldier barked. Panko froze – the soldier was behind him, and in his arms lay a stunned, whimpering infant, still unseen. He could not put his hands up – he would drop her into the mangled, broken-open corpse of her mother and sister.

He couldn't – even if he wanted to – she's all he has left –

He didn't move fast enough, and the Fire Nation does not ask twice. So, with the flick of his finger, he shot a tight flame at the man's head, and Panko died instantly. The infant in his arms fell into the broken meat clumps of her mother's gut, and her tiny cries filled the war-songed air.

The soldier – or rather, General Sen – had something to prove. All of this – taking this village, securing their port, cutting off Earth Kingdom trade while providing supplies for soldiers fighting on the western front. Fire Lord Ozai had been so impressed with the plan that he promised a great reward for its success. And if General Sen knew one thing about Fire Lord Ozai, it was that he was as generous to his inner circle as he was cruel to those outside it.

This plan had to succeed, and in his determination, cruelty and efficiency had become synonymous.

But the baby's cries gave General Sen pause, for not two weeks ago, he and his wife suffered the loss of their stillborn baby. And so, the unexpected sound of the baby's cries grew a lump in his throat, and time seemed to stand still as he slowly inched towards the cries, muffled under the body of the man he'd just shot down… for not putting his hands up fast enough.

Deep, deep regret crashed over him like tidal waves. It was only upon his further inspection that he realized what the scene before him was – unequivocally the most heinous image of war. This young family, absolutely obliterated, somehow still clinging to each other in a broken death. And in its center, a new, beautiful life, tears and confusion in her stormy eyes. The only life they'd managed to save, and she would surely die here tonight. Too small, too weak, to alone to survive this cruel world.

Suddenly, General Sen could feel the intense heat around him, hear the cries of the innocent families being slaughtered, the stench of burning flesh and death suddenly overpowering. The sight of the infant lying amidst the gore was a vision of pure horror, and he felt his resolve crumble.

Carefully, he pulled the infant from her dead, ruined family and held her close to his chest plate. Her crying immediately ceased, and a small giggle escaped her as she reached for the shiny emblem on his chest plate. His family crest.

Another explosion rocked the ground, and the general looked up from the innocent baby's face with new eyes, now fully realizing the horror he was inflicting upon these innocent people. Any resolve he had started the day with was shattered, his assurance in himself, his nation, his destiny. This is wrong, the thought echoed with every fiber of his being.

He fell to his knees, the ground warm and wet with blood, and with the deepest anguish and regret, prayed for forgiveness. To the families he'd slaughtered, the gods who judged him, to the orphan in his arms. And he made a promise – he would save this child today, and tomorrow, he would start looking for a way to end the war.