The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. - Sagan

0o0o

The sky was clear after a few days of the atmosphere brightening again, in more ways than one. The comet that boosted the fire nation's bending might had finally run it's course and left Earth's orbit. The blood red tint of the sky had been replaced with the natural blue of a clear day. Though the transition of the day was smooth enough, it would not be quite so easy for Fire Lord Zuko. Wearing the regal, yet somewhat itchy garbs of the fire lord-Zuko wondered how his father managed to wear these all day- he tapped the edge of his calligraphy brush with annoyance with a hand over his mouth. Different small Earth Kingdom governments were demmanding reperation for the war. Of course, Zuko was willing to help, but it wasn't like he was going to give them the nation's savings. He had a country to run after all. Once he retired to his room, he was taking off the robes. Finally knowing what to write, he would summon for a conference. Hopefully, there would be some sort of agreement there. Aang would probably know what to do in this situation, but he was the firelord. He waouldn't need his help for this.

"I have to show that I don't need the Avata-," "Aang's help," Zuko corrected himself. Zuko sighed tiredly, stubbornly resisting the urge to wipe sleep from his eyes. The summons letter was finished and he would retire for the night. Standing up and with relief, removing the royal robes to sling over his arm, he was dressed in what mirrored the uniform he wore when traveling with the avatar. He trudged from the Fire Lord's study and entered the adjacent bedroom. Mai was away for the time being with her family before she would finally move in with him as the new Fire Lady. Zuko himself felt bittersweet. He was away from her but at the same time, he had time to think and collect himself. It would be a week until she would be there.

"My lord," A guard said at the door, a respectful distance away. Just what Zuko needed. He was ready to sleep. "What is it general?" The guard looked much like the Imperial firebenders of the recently reformed Ozai regime, differring only in that the skull plate was removed along with the horned helmet adornments, making them look much more approachable.

"Liege, the weekly report of princess Azula's condition," the guard said respectfully, procuring a scroll from the folds of his armor. He quickly crossed the distance and bowed quickly before handing Zuko the scroll. Azula was quickly entered into a mental facility after her breakdown. The mental facility was fairly new, only a few years old, and was a short distance away from the outskirts of the outer city in a protected border. It's grounds was built much like a small neighborhood, so as to discourage escape by the patients. Zuko took the scroll from the guard while uttering a short "thanks" in response.

"Dismissed," the fire lord said, almost forgetting protocol. The guard nodded slowly, before retreating back down the hallway. Zuko took a deep breath before unrolling the scroll, feeling the soft, stretched canvas in his hands.

Patient, Azula

Shows no extreme signs of recovery

However, Is eating regularly, though in moderation

No notable observations, except that the doctor has noted she stares at the sentries.

Signs of recovery relatively slow but steady.

Zuko sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, before running his hand down his face. It was nearly the same thing everyday. He wouldn't voice it to even himself yet, but there was something strange about the doctor's observation. It was probably due to his sister's instability. Rolling the scroll back to its original form, he walked the short distance to the desk, placing it next to a small stack of identical scrolls. Zuko looked up and stared at the mirror. The scar on his face used to be a sign of his dishonor, but now it meant something more. He almost couldn't imagine what he looked like without it. Examining his reflection in the mirror, he was looking more and more like his father. His father...

Azula was crazy, but maybe there was hope for her. Ozai was beyond redemption. If only he would tell him where his mother was. He could almost forgive him.

"I'm not going to beat myself up over this," Zuko said to himself. With a wave of his hand, he extinguished the fire burning on a nearby lantern, and leaped onto his bed. He closed his yes and waited for that momentary respite from the outside world.