Ø Supernova Ø
so͞opərˈnōvə
noun
A stellar explosion that briefly outshines an entire galaxy, radiating as much energy as the Sun or any ordinary star is expected to emit over its entire life span, before fading from view over time.
Authors note: The following events take place approximately two years after Sozin's Comet came. Azula is 16, Zuko is 18, Aang is 14, and so on.
Also, while I have read the new comics, The Promise and The Search, I will be completely disregarding everything in them. I was quite upset at the way they portrayed Azula, and the whole Zuko-isn't-actually-Ozai's-son-but-no-one-ever-told-him-cue-the-angst thing sounds pretty unnecessary to me.
Warning: This story contains dark themes as well as mentions of child abuse, although nothing too graphic. Violent scenes will be depicted, so read at your own discretion.
Chapter One: Prelude
Dust rose as she gathered herself up, folding bony limbs over each other in hopes of retaining what little heat she possessed. The trickle of water echoed throughout the cell, as it made its way down through the nooks and crannies of the cold stone wall. No light penetrated through the sooty barrier that blocked her from the outside world. Cracked lips brushed against her exposed knees as she rested her head upon them.
Shivering, she pressed herself into the masonry, caring not how the rough surface scraped her bare back and shoulders. Time had no meaning in that accursed room. She could've been there for days, she could have been there for centuries. The burns that littered her arms flared up painfully, causing her to wince with discomfort. She regretted that particular incident that had earned her those wounds… although she would never admit it.
She would not be alone for long, for footsteps echoed through the gloom, and hushed voices reverberated down the dark halls. The rattle of a lock being undone and the screech of a heavy door being shoved open did nothing to disturb her from her near catatonia. But as dim light washed over her pale features, she instinctually raised her head to meet the source, breaking out of the haze that had occupied her psyche.
Figures cloaked in shadows entered her field of view, blocking the light from her body. They advanced towards her kneeling form warily, as if they did not feel safe in her presence. The thought of instilling such fear into these apparent strangers brought a grim smile of satisfaction to her face, causing her lip to split open painfully. As she wiped the blood from her mouth, the veiled forms grew closer, and the smile washed from her features.
"Hello, Azula."
She gave no response. If the Avatar was troubled by this, he did not show it.
"How are you feeling?"
Again, she said nothing. She wondered why the Avatar was taking the time out of his undoubtedly busy schedule to visit her. After all, she was only the shadow of the effulgent spirit she used to be, barely able to muster up the strength to stand up. Feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious, she glanced down at her ragged tunic and clunky chains that wound just a little too tight around her wrists and ankles. She spied Zuko- Firelord Zuko- through the gloom, standing with one arm wrapped protectively around the Water Tribe peasant. Zuko's golden robes reflected what little light had managed to enter the cell, causing shadows to dance mockingly on the walls.
The Avatar opened and closed his mouth, as if he were going to say something, but didn't quite know how. After another stint of tense silence, he spoke.
"You're not going to get any better if you keep acting like this."
Her eyes narrowed. The thought of needing to "get better" nearly threw her into a conniption. But she bit hard on her tongue, and swallowed her pride. She didn't want to scare away her company. After all, she had not had visitors for quite some time, save the guard that brought her meals twice a day. And she suspected he wouldn't be back for some time, after she spat fire at him when he delivered breakfast. It was awfully lonely sometimes, in her somber cage. The combination of the darkness and the desolating silence made the mindlessness of madness extremely compelling, at times.
Often, when she felt the tendrils of despair snaking around her skeleton heart, she would toy with such ideas, ideas of insanity and the like. She reasoned that a completely deranged person would not think themselves to be insane, thus driving their psychosis to even greater heights. But a sane person would question themselves often, allowing their conscious to explore alternative means of existence. Using that axiom, she deduced that she herself must be sane. The Avatar spoke again, drawing her out of her thoughts.
"We just want to help you, Azula."
As if she needed anyone's help. For as long as she could remember, she had been forced to get by on her own. Mother devoted all her love and energy towards coddling Zuko, while she received Father's steep expectations and brutal lessons. Failure never was and never will be an option. The consequence are too great. There were times that she found herself envying her brother. But when those feeling of jealousy would rise, she would set them on fire, and remind herself of who she was.
She was the crown princess and fire bending prodigy. Zuko was nothing more than a fool filled with incompetence. Father always said that she was born lucky, and Zuko was lucky to be born. She felt quite the opposite. Yes she had the intellect and the skills to be Fire Lord, while Zuko was frustratingly average. But her prowess was terribly, utterly meaningless, for no matter how hard she trained, how much she studied, she could not rewrite the past. Zuko was the first born. She came second. And because of this one seemingly minor fact, all she had worked for could never be achieved.
When Father banished Zuko from the Fire Nation, she should've felt relieved- her dreams could become reality. But instead she felt a niggling sense of dread begin to grow deep in her gut. At the Agni kai she grinned and clenched a fist in victory, while inside she was mapping out what Zuko's absence would really mean for her. Without him there as a sort of buffer between her and Father's rage, she would be left defenseless. Father would have no one else to target his burning enmity to anything having to do with Mother besides her. It would not matter to him that she was the next in line for his throne, to inherit his beloved nation. All that mattered was that without Zuko there he had no one to compare her to besides he himself.
She wasn't sure what was worse; having his attention or his disregard. There would be weeks where he would not speak to her at all, offering her not even the smallest of glances. So she would use this interim to her advantage, training harder than ever, in hopes of tempering his fiery wrath that would undoubtedly be thrust upon her. And then suddenly, without warning, she would find herself the sole focus of his attention, a singularly unpleasant phenomenon that produced the sensation not unlike drowning or being crushed by a thousand-pound stone. She simply could not keep up with him. Her stance was too wide, her flames never hot enough, her studies never quite vigorous enough, her face always looked too similar to her mother's and damn it child why are you crying? If you are going to be even a decent fire bender than you must learn to take the heat! Do you want to grow up weak and soft like your brother? Look what happened to him, child, do you want the same fate? Don't think for a second that I wouldn't give you the same fate if you disappoint me again.
Failure would be met with punishment. Success would be met with nothing except the lack of a punishment. And that was enough to keep her going through the long mornings spent drilling in the courtyard, through the lengthy nights she would spend peeling through tome after tome, committing even the smallest of details to memory. Anything to avoid being punished. When her eyelids started to droop, and her mind began to fog, she would remind herself of molten hands pressed into her thighs, burning straight through her drenched training tunic. Of a heated iron whip tearing up the exposed skin of her back, boiling her blood with its touch. She feared nothing more than he.
He was the only one who could control her, who could absolutely dominate her essence, and smother her into obscurity. He had raised the bloodthirsty monster within her, and tamed it with his touch of fire. And like she was nothing he cast her aside three fateful days before the comet graced the land with its light. She had taken the fall for him, while he took everything from her in one swipe. He had known what the comet would do to her already feeble psyche, and did nothing to save her from it. She was meaningless to him, simply a speck of dirt beneath his gilded heel. What a fool she was for believing that she meant anything to him, what fool.
"Azula please. Say something," Zuko pleaded, stepping closer to the bars that separated the room.
She inhaled deeply, warmth spreading from her core down to her fingers, and through the tips of her toes. Unconsciously, the group leaned closer to her, ears straining against the silence. Zuko's eyes shimmered with hope as she opened her mouth.
"Go to hell," she practically spat, and exhaled.
Sapphire flames bloomed from between her cracked lips, billowing up and out, completely filling the narrow room. The heat was profound, swallowing everything in reach. She whooped with joy as the Avatar screamed in agony, caring not that her own tattered clothes had caught fire. Blue fire filled her vision, as she drifted away into the warm embrace of ambiguity.