Disclaimer: I do not own anything

Sriya's mother was frantic and her husband could tell.

The landline slammed into the receiver with a click as she picked up a matchstick and lit it, breathing in the fire in a desperate attempt to stay calm, an attempt tried million times before. "I knew this day would eventually come," she whispered hoarsely, "But I was never actually ready for it." Her trembling wrinkled fingers lowered to the Douglas fir candle, a gift presented annually to her from Midel, on the slightly cracked kitchen counter. The wick ignited and smoked its fragrance throughout the room, followed by the swift smell of its jasmine counterpart and later, an apple crisp and cinnamon pumpkin. Dormant candles suddenly lighted throughout the house, all brought to life by the fretting woman who sought relaxation from the pungent scents.

Sriya's father's hand wrapped around her waist protectively, catching her as she leaned towards another wick, and his lips leaned down towards her ear. "It's our fault for not telling her before, you have to admit it," his deep voice reasoned calmly. But his wife was clearly not in the mood for reason.

She suddenly whipped around with bloodshot eyes and disarray curls which shined eerily from the candlelight. She cried, "Is it my fault for wanting our daughter to grow up normal?"

"Love-,"

"No! I stand by my choice no matter what she says! I thought I could prevent her from being cast away, from ever being told she was a…freak…." The word brought the woman's face crumpling as she fell into her husband's chest. "I just wanted what was best for her. I didn't want her to be bullied like me because she's an earthbender."

He stood sturdy and sane as his wife wept. It was always like this; the lack of emotion had once irritated Sriya to no other ends but she eventually learnt that it didn't necessarily mean he was indifferent.

Not a word was said. No comforting pat or loving embrace to lower the pain. But Sriya's mother knew from the solemn beat of his heart that he was grieving as well. "I called Midel. She said that Sriya ran away to her place right after the incident. She s-said that she…she hates us for not being honest and telling her of her abilities beforehand." Her dark brown eyes looked up uncomfortably, "I wasn't wrong, was I?"

Her only reply was a stiff silence. She already knew the answer, though. Looking at the broken floor and backyard, poor victims of Sriya's newly discovered bending, was answer enough.

O*O*O*O*O*O*

Midel arrived to her modest apartment from the grocery store with a smile, a gift found rare on her usual 'poker face'. Something about the abundant sunshine and gallons of coffee she guzzled just that morning had triggered a sudden content in her heart. Not to mention today was the day she was going to finally begin her annual kayaking trip with her favorite goddaughter. The past few months had been taxing on the high school senior, but Sriya had finally managed to settle her college plans and receive a seat in University of California, Los Angeles, or more commonly known as UCLA. She was going to be become a doctor, a profession the little girl had been dreaming of doing ever since she first created a badge for herself with the words 'Dr. Podila' written in crayon.

Anyway, the paperwork was settled and the eighteen year old was finally free enough for a summer trip they had been postponing for too long.

Yet, of course, she should have noticed that it was too good to be true, such happiness never lasted long.

She entered the apartment to come face to face with one of the ugliest pictures she'd ever seen. Sriya, a woman of decorum and stability, was now an antonym of her own definition. There she was, lying brokenly on the living room couch with a tangled bush replacing her neatly groomed curls and dirt caked over her jeans and cheeks. The face sagged inwards and the sharp eyes suddenly pierced Midel in a way that made the wrestler want to duck beneath the table and pray.

She approached her warily but was cut short on her way.

"You must've known. You were best friends after all." Her voice sounded confused rather than aggressive, and succeeded in keeping a safe distance. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Now Midel was equally bewildered. "I have no idea what you're talking about, champ? But can I suggest a shower-"

"Midel! Stop changing the topic and just fucking tell me."

"Champ," Midel sighed as she plopped down beside the teen and enveloped Sriya in a way that was only reserved for her. The eighteen year old always felt rather diminutive whenever she was lost in her burly arms; though it secured her nonetheless. "Tell me what's wrong."

It didn't take much time for Sriya to allow herself to sink deeper in. "I was having a fight with Jaron-,"

"The little piece of shit who lives across your street? He stole two bucks from me!"

"Yeah, that's him. All the kids of the street were playing football in our backyard and he kept saying that I couldn't beat him. He said horrible things like how women suck at football, Midel, the fucking asshole. And when I did beat him-,"

"That's my girl. Show the fucker who's right."

"-He started accusing me of cheating." The disgusting word made her lips cringe. Sriya was always one to abide the rules, especially when it came to her 'honor'. Playing dirty was a concept unknown to the woman and the prospect of being accused of such atrocity made her blood boil. "Anyway, I got a little carried away and said a few things and that's when he punched me."

This was when Midel suddenly shot up in anger. "Where is the fucking piece of shit?!"

Sriya's arms reached up and dragged the fuming woman back beside her. "Midel, please. Forget him now, I'm not done yet."

It was probably a lost cause for Midel to ever forget it, but she tried anyway, content with seeing a painful wedgie in Jaron's close future.

"That was when something…strange…happened." Midel watched expectantly as Sriya hesitated. "A rock suddenly slammed out of nowhere and hit him unconscious…"

Oh.

Sriya seemed to notice the sudden enlightenment in Midel's face. "You knew," her eyes squinted angrily as she informed defiantly, "You knew I was an earthbender."

"I-I, yes, I knew." Her goddaughter's eyes became violent. "Now, let's not get too hasty! Your mother only did this for your own good. Please, Sriya, try to understand. Your mother's been through a lot…she did this for you. We thought the longer you didn't know, the better off you'd be-"

The screeching phone interrupted her explanation. Midel's cream hand reached for the banshee and muttered, "Well speak of the devil, it's your mom." She nimbly picked it up, keeping a wary eye on her raging goddaughter. "Uh huh, she's here….no problem, she did run away but she's alright…I'll sort it out….calm down, I got this okay…Breathe, come on now….yeah…bye." She turned around back to Sriya. "Sriya-,"

"How long did you think you could hide it from me? I can't believe you, Midel!"

"As long as I needed to!" she retorted, "And I was ready to do it because your mother wanted me to. For the record, though, I was completely against it."

Now Sriya was utterly confused.

"Earthbending is a sacred art that is rare to the world now," Midel began sagely, "It's the culture of roots and stability to use the earth as an accomplice: to bend the element of earth. When I found out your mother was an earthbender as well, I was amazed! I thought I was the only one…the last of my kind. But then she came along, and she gave birth to you." Midel's finger scraped the salty tear off Sriya's cheek and smiled, "You were a prodigy," her whisper came out proud, "The most talented bender I had ever seen…but your mother was scared, fearful that you'd be labeled a 'freak' for the rest of your life. So she never mentioned it and without the proper training, your skills dwindled down and only appeared in moments of danger or anger."

"That's why…"

"Yes, it's probably why Jaron's in the hospital right now and why your house is a jagged mess."

Sriya chuckled sheepishly. "Dad's going to kill me."

"Most probably," Midel agreed knowing they'd most probably just be glad that their only daughter was back home and safe. "Let's take you back home, okay?"

O*O*O*O*O*O*O*

"Mi-Midel?"

Sriya stared slack jawed at the flames as she stood frozen in Midel's car. There it was: the majestic house she had always called home. It always seemed so untouchable. So secure, so stable; the only thing in her life she could always fall back on and know nothing had changed. Her mother would still be lighting a candle and drinking her tea. Her father, still bent over his inventions with a handy dandy gallon of gasoline and a wrench beside him. And her room would still be eternally packed with a pile of books and posters.

Yet here it was, crisping in painful fire as the universe mocked her faith.

She couldn't move. Her limbs became stiff in internal agony. Nothing mattered. The neighbors tugged her away. Midel's rock hard body stumbled into her fiercely. The heat scorched her face despite being feet away. But she had to do something. She found herself praying for control; control of her limbs, control of the fire, control of her parents' lives.

They were still in there, screaming in painful agony…and what was even worse was that she could hear them. No, they weren't real screams. They were in her head, pounding at her skull with terrible thuds.

"Sriya!"

It was Midel who broke her parents' voices. She was screaming at her to come back, but she had no control. Her previously broken legs suddenly revived and broke into a sweaty sprint straight into the falling house. Her instincts went into overdrive as she swiftly managed to jump over the obstacles, the firefighters, the civilians armed with buckets of water, and disintegrating wood. There she was now, in the middle of the fire and she could feel her body twist inside out. Flames licked ferociously on her burning skin. She could hear her hair sizzle to a crisp. She could see the taunting element as it dared her to go another step in search of the burning corpses. She could feel the touch of the burning fire. She could smell the distinct scent of her scorching flesh mixed with a pungent jasmine….jasmine?

.

She couldn't make out much. But she could tell from the lack of noise other than the ferocious crackling of fire that her parents were no more.

Midel watched in utter fear as her goddaughter took off into the burning building. "Sriya!" she screamed to no avail. The woman didn't even bat an eyelash her way. Midel ran after her but stopped when a cloud of fire burst right in her way. The sturdy wrestler was caught off guard and was thrown back a couple of feet. Seeing that pulling the teen out wasn't going to be the best option, she immediately joined the neighbors and flung the water insanely. The droplets evaporated before they could even reach the hungry flame. Firefighters brought the civilians back and she was forced to observe from the sidewalk and swallow her fear.

"Come on, Sriya," she whispered to herself in cracked tones, "Get back here. Stay alive."

She couldn't lose all three of them in the same day. She had already lost so much.

Just as she found herself being forced to mourn her goddaughter's death, a blinding white light shot into the skies, piercing through the orange glowing flames. The house roof cracked open like an egg and gave birth to the light's source. Midel's eyes squinted and she recognized the scorched figure. It was Sriya!

The woman's eyes shined the bright white which chilled Midel to the core. It was unearthly and unmerciful, as though a spirit had possessed the compassionate woman and transformed her into a vicious devil. Her body constricted tightly as a flash of elements levitated in the air. Fire and earth combined in a terrible spectacle, clashing violently and spurting the debris in all directions.

Midel found herself stuck in the crowds as they cowered beneath cars and fled behind homes in fright. It took all her might to squirm through the stampede and make her way towards her floating goddaughter.

"Hey, you!" a firefighter screamed through the roars, "Are you crazy? Get out of there!"

Midel remained ignorant of the warnings and managed to stand right underneath Sriya, concealed in her shadow. It was safe to walk now since all the fire was whipping around its wielder and was no longer engulfing the house. No flames scorched Midel's skin and all stray rocks were swiftly dodged.

The wrestler punched the ground and went flying up, perched on a finely made earthen pillar that pierced the fiery sphere. She was now only a few feet away from Sriya, who at first glance may have been a frightening sight, but was actually the saddest thing Midel had ever seen. If a spectator looked close enough, they could make out the solemn tears trailing down the glowing irises before the evaporated from the intense heat.

"I'm here," Midel screamed as compassionately as she could in the loud volume. "You still have me! It's alright Sriya, I'm here!"

It took a few minutes for her to calm down, and even longer for the sobbing to cease. Strange officers dressed in crisp suits had already surrounded the crumbled scene with intimidating guns and glasses. The officers, who named themselves as workers of SHIELD, wanted to test Sriya and see 'what the hell this crazy devil of a god exactly is' in their own words. Midel had insisted that her goddaughter wasn't a 'crazy devil' but they seemed unconvinced.

Who could blame them?

And that was how Sriya found herself ripped from Midel's secure grasp forever, chained like a madwoman, whom she did act like at that moment, pierced with an injection that made her feel faint, and dumped into a black van which would transport her to the bottom of hell itself.

She could still vividly hear her parents' cries through the crackling flames. She could still feel the rage and sorrow that fueled her veins with the ferocious energy and light. It scared her.

What the hell was she?

The tears were still damp on her cheeks and the noise was still chaotic in her ears. She found herself flinching at the slightest noise. But God had mercy on her and unconsciousness took control over her, taking advantage of the weariness from her wounds.

If only the wounds never healed. Then maybe she'd be better off with her parents. It was the last sane thought she could muster before her heavy lids shut.

O*O*O*O*O*O*O*

A/N: The Avengers section of the story is coming very soon! (I'll probably be updating once or twice a week. Sorry it's been slow now but this girl's got a pretty busy schedule.)

I've actually got most of the skeleton plot down and have already managed to compose nearly the entire story (might as well call it a fuckass epic cause it's literally going to take a million chapters because that's how good and awesome it's going to turn out to be if it goes along with my vision.)

Love you, and I'd love it if you could critic my writing. There's always room for improvement, right?