"Mom?" Zuko shouted down the hallway. He was sure that it had just been a dream, though he really couldn't tell. Shutting his eyes tightly, he rubbed them hard. He reopened them and waited for a moment for the room to clear of all the black haziness and pushed himself out of bed.
"Prince Zuko." A guard walked in. "Prince Zuko, are you alright? Shall I fetch a servant?"
Zuko looked around and then shook his head. A terrible feeling churned a knot in his stomach, but he shook off the pain. "No, that will be all." Zuko told his guard as he climbed back into bed.
Never forget who you are. Those words rang in his head and were the last words he heard before his mind wandered him off into sleep. He dreamed again of his mother, a beautiful woman: she was fit to be a Firelord Princess. Strong and confident, but soft and tendering. A perfect princess and a perfect mother.
"Zuko!" something shook him awake and he immediately grabbed the knife his uncle gave him from Ba Sing Se that he kept under the pillow. "Zuko, it's me!" He opened his eyes and released the knife. "Dumb-dumb." Azula hopped atop the pillows, nearly landing on Zuko's face.
"Watch it!" he yelled. Azula laughed and kicked Zuko's nose. "Ow!" He plugged his nose with his hands and looked to see blood. "I'm telling Mom!"
Azula laughed. "Good luck. She's gone."
"Gone?" Zuko's eyebrows raised. Was it a dream? he wondered. "What do you mean 'gone?'"
"Gone as in: never coming back." Azula clutched her chest and once again howled with laughter. Zuko pushed the bed sheets off of him and still in his underwear, ran down the hall. Servants saw him and asked if he needed help, grabbing his arms, but he pushed them away.
"I need to find my mother!" he shouted. He fought the tears as he ran down each passageway until he came to the master-prince suite. It had once belonged to his uncle, but his parents had recently moved into the room. He knocked. No answer. He beat on the door and a servant came. A woman servant?
"Where's my mother?" Zuko asked her. The woman shrugged, but as she did, the door opened wider and his father appeared, his shirt off and waist wrapped in a bed sheet. The woman laughed.
"Who's this little one?" she asked his father. Ozai smiled.
"My son."
"Where's my mother?" Zuko asked. Ozai pinched Zuko on the cheek.
"Zuko, no need to worry. Your mother is in a better place." Ozai took a sip of something the woman handed him and laughed. "You'll never have to see her again, Zuko."
"Father—,"
Ozai's hand met Zuko's left cheek. A red mark appeared for a moment and briefly Ozai looked concerned, but that look left almost as quickly as the mark. "That's Firelord to you, my Prince." He looked at Zuko up and down. "And put on some pants, son." And with that closed the door.
The last memory of Zuko's mother was not a dream. Never forget who you are. "Don't worry, Mom." He spoke aloud. "I never will."