Earth..
Water...
Fire...
Air...
My grandmother used to tell me the tales of a long lost civilization from long ago, from before even the First Avatar, that existed without spirits and grew great nations. However that world has vanished. Now a peac...
Long ago, my brother and I found a boy in the ice of our home who would eventually become the Hero known as the Avatar who ended the Great 100 Year War that plagued the world for a century.
Under the leadership of Aang and Fire Lord Zuko, the Four Nations formed a tight bond that would eventually blossom into a glorious peace that lasted for two years.
But that would not last.
They came...
We didn't know who they were, or what they were or even their origins. The spirits couldn't tell us, and they abandoned the physical world as the invaders came and harvested everything in sight, poisoning the world from within.
They were known as the Ladies. They dressed in royal garb and acted as beautiful women, but underneath their masks were a twisted hate of humankind. They came for us, and all we could do was fight back and eventually, lose.
Humans made deals with them to preserve their lives, and propaganda eventually turned the Ladies into gods among the populace of the world. Those few who knew the twisted truth could only run and hide, and eventually I watched as Avatar Aang was beaten and struck to a place I still do not know.
Now me and my friends can only hide.. and wait for the inevitable doom to follow...
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The chirping of birds..
Katara's ears were met with this sound as she awoke within her mind, the blackness of sleep still blacking her out from the rest of the world through the usage of her eyelids.
However even her eyelids were fighting back the urge to keep sleeping, as light seemed to gleam through in slight cracks, as if urging her to get up and start hunting for food.
"No no.." she murmured. "Not now."
But sunlight didn't have a snooze button, nor did it give any regard to Katara's plea for a return to night.
So she reluctantly opened her eyes, sitting up so that the fur blankets fell off her own shoulders.
Around her were carved runes, and intricate architecture formed of sweeping paintings of bald monks, meditating on clouds, some of them with arrows tattooed on their arms and legs, wearing orange robes.
The old temple was majestic and beautiful once, but now it was dusty and filled with moss and crumbling from the winds of time itself.
Katara rubbed her eyes tiredly as she stood up, looking at her reflection in the waters of an old fountain. A beautiful 16 year old girl with tan skin, and black hair wearing blue tribal furs looked back at her from the reflection, her blue eyes shimmering.
For a moment she looked at herself in the reflective surface of the calm rippling fountain, when a sharp cry rang out, interfering with her thoughts.
