"No, don't leave me in the dark!" she screamed. I could only watch and listen. She trembled in her sacred corner, clutching the eternally burning flame in her palm as close as she could risk. It seemed as though she would rather be incinerated than left to the shadows.
"Azula, there's nothing to be afraid of," I told her, though somehow doubted my honesty.
She gawked at me with restless eyes. "You don't understand," she breathed, as though speaking would enrage whatever presence tormented her. "You don't live where I do; you've never had to face her…"
I paused for a moment, experiencing the brief pang of something against my heart—sympathy, perhaps?—though swiftly recovered my senses. A monster such as this child deserved no right to sympathy. I sighed. "Azula, your mother is dead. We've discussed this before…"
"No, she's alive!" the girl refuted. "She visits me every day, telling me horrible lies!"
"I guess it runs in the family…" I muttered. The fallen princess appeared not to hear, or perhaps just refused to listen.
"You wouldn't believe what she tells me," she continued. "That sadistic little… She says she loves me!"
"And that's a bad thing?" I asked.
"Yes!" she replied. "What kind of cruel mockery is it to tell someone you hate that you suddenly love them?"
"Maybe she never hated you," I proposed, yet failed to understand why anyone wouldn't hate this witch. She was stubborn, possessive, and haughty. The only reason she's ever had the pleasure of friendship was because she mortified people into submission, which in truth, lacked any genuine companionship at all. I nearly wished death upon her. At least then we'd all be put out of our misery. Alas, it was my duty to see this girl become healthy once more. I had to make an effort to rebuild her former self, no matter how futile that effort may be.
"Maybe she's always loved you," I suggested, "but you never realized it."
The former royalty gaped at me through incredulous eyes, her jaw dropped in horror as she peered into my own sight, unable to relax her expression as she searched for coherent words. "You're… You're on her side!" she accused. "You've betrayed me!"
"No, Azula, I just—"
"Shut up!" she screeched. "Don't you dare lie to me!"
I silenced, then merely shook my head. There's no helping this girl… I thought with disgrace. A weighted breath tumbled from my lips as I began to exit the room. She shrieked and writhed as I sealed the door behind me, pleading that I not desert her as everyone else had. She insisted that she'd forgive me, that she'd relinquish her anger if I remained in her company, but only apathy ushered from my heart. After all, Azula always lies.