Book 1: Mai

(The Day The Fire Lord Fell)

The Fire Nation prison is damp. Walls are covered with a thick layer of grime. The entire prison smells like sea water. That scent was relaxing to her once, reminding her of all those summers spent on Ember Island. Now, the smell is sickening. When you are around a scent long enough, it tends to fade away until you cannot notice it anymore. Somehow, the prison is immune to that effect. It always reeks of the ocean.

There is no way for Mai to know how long she has been here. The lights are always dim, and there seems to be no pattern to when food comes. In the beginning, she tried to keep track of days, but it became impossible.

The very worst of it is the dripping. The entire prison creaks and groans under the weight of the ocean's water, but somewhere nearby, perhaps in the hall or next cell over, there is a small leak.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Consistent and steady. A minor annoyance at first, but with nothing else to focus on, the dripping became infuriating. Sometimes there are short distractions. Guards might tell a joke as they patrolled the halls, or be humming a tune to themselves, but once their footsteps fade around the corner, the sound is back.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Mai sits on the floor of her prison cell. Her head rests against the back wall, ignoring the grime getting into her hair. That was when the news broke: "The Fire Lord has fallen."

She can't tell who had said it. The sentence was brief and faint, coming from around the hall. Already, Mai is on her feet, peering out of the narrow window to the hall. She can hear the chaos of guards scrambling a short distance away. They are Fire Nation guards - here to keep enemies of the Fire Nation contained. Guards who now selfishly fled for their own lives, not wanting to be associated with the war crimes they've committed here.

A crowd of red uniforms hurries down her hallway. They do not talk or look into the cells. The guards all head to Mai's left.

Mai sticks her arm through the bars of her cell, grabbing the uniform of one man as he runs past. "Tell me what is going on," Mai demands. She got lucky, the uniform belongs to a young, scared boy. He can't be any older than thirteen. What is he even doing here?, Mai wonders, but she knows the answer. They were losing the war now, and the Fire Lord needed more fighters. Age started to matter less to the Fire Nation, but that wasn't news.

"The Fire Lord was beaten," the boy says. "We have to go. They're coming for us."

"Well, let me out then!" Mai replies. "I'm Fire Nation too."

The boy pulls himself out of Mai's grip. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "There isn't time."

He sprints down the narrow hallway of the prison. His short, thin frame rounds the corner, out of Mai's sight.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

There was silence in the halls. The scrambling of bodies, shuffling of feet - that was over. The guards had left, and Mai was alone in the grimy cell they had locked her in.

As the quiet sets in, other inmates begin to peek out of their cells, calling out for help.

For a moment, Mai thinks she will die here. If help does not arrive she will be stuck. If help does arrive, they may choose not to save the Fire Nation girl. Mai takes a deep breath, centering herself. Getting out of the cell itself might be possible now, she thinks. With no guards around, she has plenty of time to pick the lock, or pry the door open somehow. Then what? Mai asks. She is still too deep underwater to get out of the prison.

"One problem at a time," Mai decides. Step one will be to get out of this cell.