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There’s a legend that’s been told for decades now of the last prince of the Fire Nation. The story names him the Setting Sun as only a handful of people remain who can recall his true name. It’s not a happy story. But the tale goes as follows:
Once upon a time there was a brilliant and beautiful prince of the Fire Nation. He was the elder of two brothers and shone more brightly than the very sun in the sky. Some say you could see the sun rise and set in his eyes. His hair was golden and red like the flames of a bonfire, and his laugh was brighter and louder than the fireworks on his birthdays. Despite his brilliance, there were none who resented him, for he was just as kind as he was vivid.
The prince was beloved by the kingdom and by his little brother who adored him more than anyone in the world.
But these sorts of stories are not remembered because of kind and beautiful princes. In every tale there must be a villain, and the villain of this legend was memorable.
It was on the prince’s twentieth birthday. Members of empires and kingdoms from around the world had come to celebrate with him and enjoy the warmth that could only be found in his presence. Food and wine flowed freely for royal guests and commoners alike. Music sang through the air like a merry breeze and not a heavy heart could be found in the whole of the Fire Nation. Truly, it was a day incomparable to any other.
During the dinner banquet held in the capital square – the prince was loathe to celebrate his birthday while locked inside a palace when there were so many more people on the outside – a man approached the prince at his table.
Many people who have told this story describe the man in different ways. Some say he was an agent of the Earth Kingdom, jealous of the Fire Nation’s increasing prosperity. Some call him an assassin from an unnamed group that sought to topple the monarchies. Others claim he was simply a man, disgruntled with his own fate, and seeking to take vengeance on the brightest spot in the empire.
But do not believe everything the stories tell you. I can give you a description of the man and you may deduce his origins as you will.
When the man appeared before the prince, people noted his slitted pupils that glowed unnaturally beneath the flames, and his honeyed words that made horrible things sound enticing to even the noblest of men.
What happened afterwards does not need to be recorded here.
I will simply tell you of the prince’s fate.
The prince, brave and true as he was, recognized the evil intent behind the man’s sweet, terrible smile. He drew his sword and lunged at the man, but the man was unnaturally quick. He dodged the prince’s attacks, always remaining one step ahead where he should have fallen behind. The prince was a talented swordsman and one of the best martial artists of his time, but the man was faster, stronger. They battled throughout the night and into the early hours of the morning. Then, just before dawn could break, the man stopped the prince’s hand just before he could deliver a fatal blow to the stranger.
The man leaned in close and whispered into the prince’s ear, “To kill you would be too kind. A harsher fate would be to take you from the sun that you shine so brightly in. To make you into a monster of the shadows, to turn you against everyone you hold close.”
The prince’s blade sliced through the skin of the man’s hand as he held back the prince’s sword. With the quickness of the supernatural, he grabbed the prince, fingers digging into the golden skin of the prince’s face.
The prince opened his mouth to yell, but this was what the man wanted.
Blood from the cut on his hand seeped into the prince’s mouth. It was a matter of minutes before the prince began to change. All that was golden paled to moonlight white, and flaming red darkened to ash and soot.
Soon, not even his own brother could recognize the prince. The people turned quickly on the new perceived threat and attacked the prince. They drove him away, not realizing that as they did so, more monsters were flooding through the Fire Nation’s borders.
The night of celebration turned into a massacre.
Those who survived fled the Fire Nation as quickly as they could. The horrible story spread far and wide until it turned into the legend we remember today.
No one knows what truly happened to the prince. Whether he lived or died that day is debated as hotly as the strange man’s identity and motivations. All that is certain is that the Fire Nation never truly recovered. Once it had been a powerful, prosperous place. Now, it is a country of monsters and peasants too poor to escape anywhere else. It is the land of embers and ash.
But I do not tell you this tale because I wish to bore you with the wretched stories of the past. I tell you this because the Fire Nation can ascend once more. Even a spark can return to a roaring flame. And the Setting Sun always rises again.