Chapter Text
13 years ago
Laughter sung through the halls of Air Temple Island, they were the songs of a little 5-year-old girl as she ran barefoot over the polished stone floors–her dark hair flying behind her. Tenzin sighed, exasperated yet amused, as he followed after her at a slower pace. This was a regular occurrence for them–became a nightly ritual.
“Aria, it’s bedtime.”
His daughter spun on her heels and grinned up at him, bright grey eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I’m not sleepy!” she declared, arms crossed.
“Oh?” Tenzin raised an eyebrow. “Then I suppose I’ll have to tire you out.”
Aria squealed as a sudden gust of air swirled beneath her feet, lifting her ever so slightly and twirling her around before setting her back down. She stumbled with giggles, eyes wide with excitement.
“Again! Again!” she begged, bouncing on her heels.
Tenzin crossed his arms, pretending to think it over. “Hmm. I’m not sure. You’re supposed to be getting ready for bed, not flying through the halls like an untrained lemur.”
“I am an airbender , Daddy,” she said proudly, puffing up her tiny chest. “And airbenders fly.”
Pema’s soft laughter echoed from the doorway. “Not at bedtime, sweetheart.” She stepped forward, resting a gentle hand on Aria’s head. “Come on, my little whirlwind. Let’s get you tucked in.
Aria pouted for a moment, but as Pema smoothed back her wild hair, her energy started to settle. A small yawn escaped her as she leaned against her mother’s touch and leg. Holding on her robes she let her mother lead her to bed, where Pema pulled the soft blankets up to her chin. Tenzin sat beside them, watching with quiet admiration as his wife stroked their daughter’s hair, humming a soft melody.
The air in the room was warm and still. Comforting. Safe.
Aria blinked sleepily. “Daddy?”
“Yes, little one?”
“Will I be a great airbender one day?”
Tenzin smiled, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “You already are.”
Aria beamed, her eyes fluttering shut. Within moments, she was fast asleep.
Pema leaned against Tenzin, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’s growing so fast.”
Tenzin nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple. “She is.”
Everything was perfect. They had the start of their perfect family, on their perfect island, in the perfect city. Aria was perfect in every way possible. She was more than they could have ever dreamed of. Although she was unexpected, they wouldn’t imagine a life without her. Yet neither of them knew what the future would hold in store. Outside, the wind had begun to shift. Somewhere in the distance, the howl of a lone wolf-bat echoed across the bay.
Tenzin woke only a few hours later to the sound of rustling.
His brows furrowed, still half-asleep, but something felt… off. The room was too quiet. The air too still. This didn't feel like just a rustling from outside from animals or wind.
Then he heard it.
A sharp gasp—small, muffled…scared.
Aria.
Something was wrong.
Tenzin bolted upright. Pema stirred beside him, groggy. “What is it?”
But he was already moving.
His feet barely touched the ground as he sprinted toward Aria’s room, heart hammering in his chest. The moment he reached the doorway, a sharp gust of wind blasted forward—his own bending, raw and desperate. He knew something was wrong, so terribly wrong.
The window was open. Curtains flapped wildly against the night air.
Aria’s bed was empty. A figure cloaked in black stood in the shadows over her bed.
The world stopped as Tenzin zeroed in on the intruder.
He reacted instantly, thrusting his hands forward. A powerful blast of air surged across the room, aimed directly at the intruder. But they were fast—too fast. They dodged, pivoting toward the open window, a form clutched tightly their chest.
Aria.
Tenzin made eye contact with her, they were filled with tears and fear. Fear that no child should ever have to experience.
“DADDY!!”
“NO!”
Tenzin lunged, unleashing another air strike, but the intruder was already leaping out the window. They disappeared into the night, vanishing into the darkness.
Aria’s scream ripped through the temple.
Tenzin vaulted onto the windowsill, his breath sharp and ragged. He could see nothing. No movement. No sign of where they had gone. They had just vanished into thin air– like they were never even there.
His chest heaved. His mind raced. Think. Think .
It was hard to think when his daughter was gone .
Pema stumbled into the room, her face pale, eyes wide with terror. “Where is she? Where’s Aria?”
Tenzin turned, his hands shaking. He had no words.
Pema collapsed to her knees. A broken sob escaped her as she clutched the blankets Aria had been wrapped in just hours before. She was gone.
The world outside carried on, the waves crashing against the island cliffs, the wind whispering through the trees.
But inside, nothing would ever be the same.
Tenzin clenched his fists.
He would not stop until he found her.
No matter how long it took.
Tenzin had searched everywhere. Every rumor, every lead, every whisper of a stolen child had led to nothing.
Pema tried to move forward—for the sake of their growing family. Jinora was born, then Ikki, then Meelo. But Aria’s absence was a hole in their hearts. For years, they told themselves she was out there somewhere. That she would find her way home.
But deep down, they were beginning to lose hope.