Chapter 14: Cracking Up

It was like a tiny animal was crawling up and down her back, or tugging on her eyelids, or tickling her upper lip. And it was absolutely annoying.

She tried to quell the persistent, involuntary twitches and shivers playing havoc with her body. She tried to enjoy the warmth and comfort provided by Aang's arm around her shoulders. But the looming threat of the unknown continuously wheedled at her nerves. Under other circumstances, this trip could have been considered romantic: it was just her and Aang, chasing after the setting sun to the west, huddling close to ward off the chill of approaching night as Appa swam through the heavens. But the fear that they were flying into some kind of disaster was all she could think about.

Hours ago, she thought, was already a narrowly avoided disaster. First, her friend decided to assault a ship full of armed pirates even when Aang specifically asked her to avoid violence. Sure, Toph had some justification for acting quickly, but Katara was certain her friend came up with this reasoning after she decided to flood the ship with sand and blast her way out the side of its hull.

Aang's vision, or the timing thereof, was worse still. If he had been entranced during the fight, instead of just before it, he might have been killed. To think, the Avatar would be felled by a common thug with a cheap blade after surviving the likes of Azula or a massively empowered Ozai. It made her furious, but she didn't know who or what to get angry at. It wasn't Aang's fault, and she had no idea what forces decided when and how people got visions. It was just another factor beyond her control, another unknowable threat.

The most frustrating thing: she had dealt with plenty of stressful situations in the past. Why is it so difficult now? What changed? Have I so quickly gone soft? Ridiculous, I'm no damsel in distress... right?

The last rays of orange fell below the horizon, but the moon, nearing full, maintained a glittering white light on the surface of the ocean. Katara focused on the energy radiating from Yue and began mentally going through her waterbending katas, in a fleeting hope that it would soothe her frayed mind, starting with the water whip. Then she moved onto the twin tentacles, followed by the octopus form, and finishing her imagined set with the fog cover technique.

When that became boring, she added an opponent. Azula came to mind, possibly because Aang mentioned her in his vision, possibly because Katara could think of no one more challenging to fight or more satisfying to defeat. A battle played out in her mind: Azula crazed and without grace, blasting her blue fire and lightning around with reckless abandon, Katara effortlessly channeling the lightning or dousing the flames with her water as they clashed along the rolling dunes of a beach – no, too easy – a dark forest. The fight was entirely one-sided nonetheless, and it soon was time to put the cruel royal in her place.

She called for the moon's power, basked in it, and then reached for Azula. The psychotic princess tensed for a moment, her brow furrowed in almost comical confusion, and then her limbs began twisting at odd angles. Her left arm yanked behind her back, her right arm wrapped in front of her neck, the hand clawing at her topknot like a thrashing canyon crawler scrabbling for purchase in a landslide. Pigeon-toed and hips jerking, she lost her balance and fell to her knees, followed with a sickening pop in one of her arms. A dislocated shoulder, maybe?

Katara focused more, on Azula's eyes, the same eyes that were often cat-like and predatory now widened in fear. She could sense the current – the moisture within them – and she pulled a little. The eyes widened further in response. She pulled harder, and the eyes swelled, turning red and bloodshot. Azula was saying something, begging... screaming... and Katara gave one last, hard pull-

And the waterbender's eyes snapped open, accompanied with a gasp for breath. Aang's arm immediately tensed around her in reaction.

"Katara, are you okay?" Aang asked, concern laced in his tone. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Katara rubbed her eyes and took in as much air as she could in a long, deep breath. "I... fell asleep?"

"Yeah."

She rested her head against his chest, the steady beating of his heart not half as fast as her own. "Sorry. Didn't mean to leave you flying Appa alone."

He gave her shoulders a light squeeze. "I don't mind, it's probably good you get a little rest since we'll be flying all night."

Katara hummed in agreement. They remained silent for a few minutes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Aang asked, inevitably.

"About what?"

"Your dream."

"...not really."

"Oh."

More silence.

"I was thinking..." Aang started. Katara looked up to find him gazing at the moon. The moon suddenly seemed sinister to her, a great white eye staring down from the heavens, no longer her friend Yue or even Tui, but some abstract thing of wretched intent.

"About?" Katara asked, after she realized Aang was waiting for some response.

"Well, it really takes years to master a single element, let alone all four. We haven't had time lately, but... there's still more you can teach me. I kind of miss training together."

Katara almost jumped upright, but caught herself before she fell off Appa's head. Instead she settled for throwing Aang's arm off her shoulders and staring at him incredulously.

"What... what did I say?" Aang asked, his voice cracking.

"Aang... I'm not teaching you... never teaching anyone... that. How can you ask me such a thing?!"

"But-"

"You're the Avatar! More importantly, you're an Air Nomad! If anyone understands where I'm coming from, it should be you!"

"Katara..." Aang trailed off. His face suddenly shifted from mortification to realization, as he glanced from her trembling hands to the reflection of the moon on her eyes. "Katara, I wasn't going to ask you to teach me... what Hama taught you. I was talking about some advanced forms I never really got the hang of. Or even healing, if that's possible."

Katara felt even more blood rush to her face. She was certainly flushed from anger before, now doubly so from embarrassment.

"Healing? Of course that's what you meant. Why would you mean... sorry, Aang. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"It's okay," Aang said, but his shoulders sagged and he did not look her in the eye.

Katara settled herself back down and leaned against Aang again, but he did not move to replace his arm around her. Somewhere from the saddle behind them, Momo chirped, but didn't come down to join them. Great, even the lemur is uncomfortable around me now.

"Do you trust me, Katara?" Aang asked, suddenly.

"What? Of course I do. With my life." Katara reached for Aang's hand end squeezed it gently.

"That's... not what I mean," Aang began. "You've always been there to listen to me. To talk about my fears, my mistakes, my losses, even when I thought I didn't want to. I want to be that for you, too. I won't make you-"

"Bloodbending," Katara interrupted.

Aang only nodded, his eyes meeting hers.

"I had a nightmare, or a daydream, I don't remember falling asleep really. But it was about bloodbending against Azula. It was... dark. But that's not what bothers me. So much."

Aang replaced his arm around her and ran his thumb over her hand.

"What bothers me is that in my dreams, I enjoy that control. I enjoy that power. And I feel like it's twisting me up inside. I get angry at the people trying to restart the war and it's so tempting to just reach in and force them to stop..." she sniffled, pausing to wipe the tears from her eyes with her free hand.

"Katara, you wouldn't do that."

She turned to him, shaking, focusing just to at least keep her voice steady. "I already have, Aang. When I went with Zuko to find my mother's killer, we had the wrong man the first night. I bloodbended him, was ready to... I might have done it." She looked at her knees. "I never told you. I guess Zuko never said anything either." She laughed, though there was no humor in it. "He must have been terrified. Zuko, I mean."

She looked up and Aang held her gaze, his eyes warm and compassionate when she half-expected disappointment or a shocked recoil. But then, this was Aang, of almost infinite empathy, especially for her. It should have made her feel better, knowing that... but the gnawing was too insistent.

"Katara, don't feel guilty. In the end, you did the right thing."

"Barely," she sighed, bitterly. "I wish I had your conviction, Aang. You could single-handedly level and rebuild a city now, if you wanted to. You spared the life of one of the worst tyrants in history. I'm not sure I could follow your example with that kind of power."

Aang shook his head. "Katara, I'm not so good, all the time. I try to follow the teachings of my people, but I know I've failed to do so sometimes. Doing the right thing is rarely easy, and doing the wrong thing is often tempting." He smiled. "In fact, I can think of a few times where I might have done something horrible if you hadn't been there to anchor me. I want to you to know I'm here for you, too, and I always will be." He laughed, softly. "Besides, if I tried to build a whole city using the Avatar State, I bet it would end up pretty ugly."

She nodded with a half-smile and pressed herself closer against him, but her thoughts wandered back to her grandmother's words, seemingly ages ago, even if the context now was completely different.

Katara, try not to put all your hope in this boy.

She appreciated Aang's love and support, but was it enough to keep her from indulging in her darker abilities when the pressure was on? Shouldn't she be more independent? Aang's Avatar State was essentially a spiritual possession, at least initially, that she was somehow able to coax him out of, but her own inner power could not be blamed on past lifetimes taking over her body. When it came down to it, only she could be responsible for controlling that.

Yes, without a doubt, her nose was broken. Simple material science, really. Flesh and bone – in this case, her face – will always yield to the harder and stronger substance of iron – in this case, the war balloon's furnace. All that was needed was sufficient force to the impact.

This knowledge did not prevent Azula from swearing as loudly as she could, which only exacerbated the pain between her eyes. Evidently navigating a war balloon through a storm was just as ill-advised as with a tiny boat, despite the fact that she actually knew how to control the balloon.

The rain had been so heavy she could barely read her compass. The wind had threatened to blow away the tarp that kept her fuel dry, no matter how securely she tied it down. It was barely any consolation that the basket was designed to drain water away. Almost an entire day wasted, trying to engineer victory against pounding gusts and pelting droplets with just a tiny propeller and a blob of hot air.

Eventually, exhaustion had forced her to lose her footing on the wet floor of the balloon basket, and she violently kissed metal. Thus, the current arrangement of her aforementioned facial structure, not to mention a loss of consciousness. Losing consciousness meant losing her heading, a lot of altitude, and a lot of time. Swearing in a most un-princess-like manner seemed the appropriate response. The pain reminded her it was probably not.

It was night, but a nearly full moon provided just barely enough light. The sky was clear, which was a nice change of pace, but that only meant she was very far away from where she intended to be. A slight lifting sensation suggested she was descending at a gradually increasing rate. Best fix that first. She dug around for some dry coal and resupplied the furnace, chasing it with a half-hearted jet of flame.

In afterthought, it was dumb luck she was still in the air at all. The last thing she recalled doing before slipping was overloading the furnace – with the intention of driving the machinery beyond its intended limits – to try and pass through north. But she never got a chance to tweak the throttling mechanism (assuming, of course, she could discern how), so the furnace burned the load slowly. Lucky me. But then... I don't believe in luck.

Even with that, the balloon was somewhat deflated. Her descent wasn't dangerously fast, at least not yet, but it was likely she would have been roused by drowning in the ocean had she been unconscious even minutes longer. She adjusted a few knobs on the furnace and a blast of heat erupted from the burner.

Azula chanced a look over the edge of the basket. Scratch that, I'd have crashed into a tree, Azula thought, as she peered over the dimly illuminated landscape. I suppose that's marginally better... I must be somewhere in the Earth Kingdom after all.

She floated only a few hundred feet above a forest canopy. A telltale gleam from the west indicated the far off ocean, but all else around her was a grayish nightscape: treetops cast with a silver sheen from the moon. She dug up some star charts, courtesy of the Kyoshi girls, and tried to figure out her current location. She looked up at the sky, then back at the map, then back at the sky.

She was somewhere far into the Southern Earth Kingdom instead of the western reaches she was aiming for. Perhaps near New Ozai, or Omashu as it was undoubtedly called again, and very far away from any Fire Nation colony where she had a chance to blend in.

"Even the weather conspires against me," Azula grumbled. "But on the other hand, if I don't know precisely where I am, it's unlikely that anyone else does either. Perhaps this is a salvageable situation-"

One of the thick ropes holding the basket level, perhaps damaged in the struggle against the storm hours before, broke with an audible snap, followed immediately by two more. Balance lost, the basket lurched to the side, the burner tilted off-center, and the balloon itself, despite being made of resistant materials, caught on fire. Within moments, Azula began feeling that sensation of her guts racing into her throat again.

She pulled at the fire crawling along the fabric of the balloon, as one would yank a sheet off a bed, and it responded for the most part by leaping off the material and dying in the air. But it was too little, too late. Another rope snapped, the furnace and propeller assembly shifted and came loose, and she barely avoided being crushed or burned by hot coals is it spilled out of the basket, which was now hanging by one corner and kept suspended only by a rapidly deflating dirigible. Azula nearly fell, but managed to grab a stray rope and hang on. Somewhere below her, but not as far as she would have liked, she heard the metal machinery crashing through the branches of the forest canopy.

Azula climbed back into the lopsided basket, noted most of her supplies were lost, and slumped in a corner. In a few more seconds, the vehicle would be plummeting as fast as if she were just free-falling herself. There was nothing left she could do, and even if there was, she was too exhausted to act on it, even too exhausted to feel fear.

She felt a jolt as her rapidly descending aircraft struck the highest branches and began bouncing below the tree-line. The remainder of the balloon was torn away, and the next few seconds were nothing but a dark blur: wet things slapping her in the face or across the arms, the sound of shattering woodwork and broken greenery, and the screech of frightened animals. The only thing Azula hoped for now was that the fall would kill her instantly, but she fully expected to suffer with more broken bones and possibly get eaten alive by some jungle carnivore. It seemed to be fitting with the circumstances.

It was a few moments of closed eyes and white knuckles before she realized she was still alive and relatively unharmed aside from her previous injury. The basket was more or less upright, and swung back and forth gently, as if some giant creature was rocking the contraption like a child. In the pitch black darkness, she swore she heard a splash echo from below.

Azula took a breath and lit a flame in her hand. Slightly better, she noted, than she had been managing lately, but still taking far too much effort to sustain. She would have to make this reconnaissance quick.

The basket appeared to be entangled in thick, wet vines. Quite a lot of vines, actually, which connected to nearby trees, went up to the higher branches, or wrapped around yet more vines. It wasn't difficult to spot her point of entry, as there was a tunnel of broken branches and vines and a few visible stars behind and above wherever she was. And despite the dried blood caked in her nose, she could smell something organic and putrid in the air.

This is not a forest... it's a swamp.

She peered over the edge and downwards, but her view was obscured by dark fog. Her only light, her own flame, couldn't reveal to her whether the swampland below was ten feet down or a hundred feet down. With a sigh, Azula closed her hand and total darkness enveloped her again. She would have to wait for the sun.

"It was nice of your old pal there to lend us these ostrich-horses."

"Yeah."

"You sure do seem to know a lot of people around here."

"Mmhmm."

"Unusually quiet today, huh?"

Ren just shrugged. Sokka was finding it increasingly difficult to get the colonial boy to say anything more than a monosyllabic grunt ever since they left the Taku area. And he was really looking forward to some manly banter on this mission. Aang was a good guy and a close friend, but decidedly lacking on the macho scale.

But then again, there was Toph to cover that, the fact that she was a girl notwithstanding. Although right now he was fairly certain she was sleeping, if only a light doze. The small girl sat behind him on his giant bird mount, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, her head leaning against his back. Man, I hope she doesn't drool on me.

One of Ren's friends, an old stable owner living on the outskirts of the fishing village they had departed from, could only spare two mounts. It was likely he would have forked over two more if they played the 'this is the King of the Earth Kingdom' card, but Sokka wanted to keep as low a profile as possible. Besides, the big creatures could carry two people each; doubling up would only slow their overall pace down a bit.

Though now Ren had the other bird to himself, as Bosco had apparently become jealous and (according to the King) insisted Kuei ride him instead. Unfortunately, the bear's leisurely stride was not getting them to Ba Sing Se with any particular haste. Kuei had commented that at least his pet wasn't obsessed with heading westward anymore. Who indulges the whims of an instinct-less regular bear? None other than Kuei, I'd bet.

The Earth King had toughened up considerably living as a nomad, refugee, and fugitive over the past few months. He was surprisingly helpful with fishing and setting up camp, and he had utterly discarded most of his noble etiquette and manners. Kuei was still a very polite man and still held an air of high class, but he was also completely at ease with picking up a fish on a stick and tearing into it with his bare hands and teeth. And he insisted he be treated as just 'another of the party, nothing more, nothing less'. Sokka found himself developing a new respect for the royal.

Kuei told some of his stories around the campfire the previous night as well. Run-ins with Xin Fu and Master Yu (Toph suggested their arrest be the first thing Kuei orders when he's back on the throne), a bloody Fire Nation ambush against the retreating Gan Jin and Zhang tribes, his time fishing on a little old boat, and crossing paths briefly with a beautiful bounty hunter (Sokka was happy to inform him that her name was Jun, and frequented a tavern somewhere near Makapu village).

But toughness is relative. Kuei's improvement by living out in the wilderness helped considerably, but he still trusted shady strangers. And he still seemed incapable of defending himself. And he still gave off an aura of richness and naivety. And that's why they found him tied up in a storage room on a pirate ship.

Sokka's stomach growled. Toph murmured something and sat up.

"Is it time for lunch?" she asked.

"Don't need to ask me twice. Let's take a break and eat quickly. We want to cover as much ground during the day as we can."

Toph hopped off the bird and yawned. Sokka followed suit, although his dismount was more like rain sliding off a leaf: rolling and fluid – until he hit the ground.

"Nice landing, meat-head." Toph snickered.

"Enjoy your nap, Tophie?" Sokka retorted, rubbing his backside.

"What did you call me?" Toph whirled, Sokka decided, like an angry flying bison.

Sokka feigned innocence. "Hmm, you mean 'Tophie'?"

"Yeah, that stops right now."

"What, I can't give you a nickname?"

"I don't even let my mom call me 'Tophie', why would I let you?"

"Because... of my wit and charm?"

Toph scowled. "Charm is Ren's department, what you've got working for you is the pity angle. You want me to call you 'Sokkie'?"

"It's not much different from 'Snoozles'."

"You got a problem with my nicknames for you?"

"I didn't say that."

"So you like them?"

"Err... what?"

"Oh, nevermind, just don't call me 'Tophie', or I'll pummel you into next week."

Sokka held up his hands in surrender. Wow, she is crabby today.

Kuei and Ren appeared to ignore – or at least pretended to ignore – the entire exchange, as they rummaged through their packs for some cured meats and bread. The group sat on a fallen tree, except for Toph, who sat on the ground, forming a rough circle. The mossy make-shift bench rested parallel to the dirt road they were traveling on, and in all directions there were high trees, mostly coniferous, as was common in this part of the Earth Kingdom. The area was still and quiet, aside from the periodic bird call and what was possibly the roar of a distant stream. Sokka eventually decided the silence was uncomfortable, and he was a man who enjoyed comfort.

"So, Ren, how are you liking your first big mission? I mean, technically it's not a bounty hunting job, more of a bodyguard thing, but similar."

Ren gnawed on a piece of jerky and looked up. "It's... different than I expected. I'm not sure I'm fully prepared."

Sokka raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, I saw you with that crossbow thingy, hit that dumb pirate right in the knee!" Sokka smiled, happy to get a few sentences out of him. "I bet that stung. You're like a marksman with that thing."

Ren chuckled. "Marksman? Maybe. I've had lots of time with it. Mom set up a contraption that would lob wooden spheres in the air so I could practice on moving targets. Bit different shooting a human being though."

Toph cut in, "That why you've been so quiet all day?"

"No. Well, partly, maybe." Ren sighed. "That's not the main thing."

Silence again. Ren's eyes, normally a bright hazel, seemed like mud.

"Well, spit it out," Toph said before taking a big bite out of a loaf.

Ren groaned. "You saw me, Toph." The blind girl made a face. "Well, you know what I mean; I was standing right next to you. I was almost useless once one of those guys got close enough to swing at me."

"So... you're not the best swordsman in your village?" Sokka asked.

"Yeah... I might have embellished that statement somewhat. But I didn't realize how bad I was until yesterday." Ren looked down, frowning.

"Hopefully, we will be able to avoid any more fights on the way to Ba Sing Se," Kuei chimed in. Bosco seemed to whine in agreement.

Sokka tapped his chin. "Well Ren, if you're concerned about your swordsmanship, I just happen to be trained by one of the greatest sword masters of our time, if not the greatest. Maybe I can pass some of that on to you."

Ren's eyes lit up. "Oh, why didn't I think of that? Too busy sulking, I imagine. Of course! I humbly accept your offer, Sifu Sokka!"

Toph palmed her face. "Ren... don't call him that, it will only-"

"Hmm, 'Sifu Sokka', I really like the sound of that," Sokka said.

"-go to his head," Toph finished.

"I hate to interrupt," Kuei said, "but I thought you said we had to maximize our travel time during the day? Would not practicing with sharp blades at night be dangerous?"

Sokka shrugged. "Everything is dangerous out here. We'll take some time during the day; I'd rather move a little slower and help Ren become a better fighter... in case we run into pirates or earthbending thugs again." He decided not to add that Bosco was already slowing them down plenty anyway, he could probably train Ren while walking alongside the road and be able to keep up.

"Speaking of training and earthbending," Toph said, "while you guys are playing with your toys, I can work King Pampered Pants here into a real earthbender."

Sokka turned towards Kuei. "You're an earthbender?!"

Kuei tugged on his collar. "Well, yes, technically. All Earth Kings must be by tradition."

Sokka threw his arms forward. "I've never seen you lift a pebble!"

"Well, it also happens that, by tradition, a King only earthbends during his coronation. It is considered... uncouth for one to do so at any other time, or so I was told by Long Feng. Plus I am rather poor at it; before Ba Sing Se fell, I had not used my ability since I was a child."

"And since?" Ren asked.

"I tried a few times to defend myself with bending, but the result was hardly more impressive than a non-bender just kicking the dirt up with the toe of his boot."

"I think you're going to have to make some policy changes. Kings should be earthquaking bad-asses, like Bumi," Toph said.

"Bumi's also nuttier than a squirrel-sloth's cheeks in autumn," Sokka noted.

"Better to be crazy than a pushover," Toph said with a grin.

"Perhaps I can learn to earthbend at least functionally and still retain my sanity?" Kuei asked.

"With Toph as your teacher?" Sokka burst out in an obnoxious guffaw. Toph punched him in the arm for his trouble. "Ow!"

"Oh, dear," Kuei said, shaking his head.

Rise with the sun.

Azula felt a ray of warmth on her cheek. It was morning, perhaps late morning, but the light was definitely coming from the east. Her back and neck ached like someone botched a massage; and suddenly she found herself missing the bed at the Tomo Facility. She stretched and felt the bones in her back shift as well as heard them pop.

She moved to clean the bits of dirt from her eyes, but immediately stopped and winced. Nose still broken, still considerably painful.

The sunlight managed to illuminate the swamp fairly well, and although it was warm and humid, there was no thick fog obscuring her visibility now. The ruins of her aircraft remained suspended by a tangle of vines, and it appeared to be about a thirty foot drop into the marshland below. She could jump down if it was deep water, but she had no way of knowing for sure how deep it was down there, or if she'd land in some kind of mud or quicksand. She would have to lower herself down on rope.

Unfortunately, rope was no longer in her possession. In fact, most of her supplies were gone, except her compass, her star charts, a small knife, some food and water, the coins in her pockets and the clothes she was wearing. If she was lucky, she could find some of the equipment that had fallen out during the crash, but it was more likely the swamp had swallowed it all.

Moreover, it meant she would have to climb down a slick tree without falling and breaking anything.

"Well, if I can hold onto a sheer cliff with a hairpin, this should be a snap." Azula stuffed everything into her bag of food, unsheathed the knife, and jumped out at the nearest tree. Her leap shook the basket loose from its precarious entanglement and caused it to flip upside-down, and she scolded herself for assuming it was safe to stay up there through the night. Although, possibly safer than being exposed to whatever creatures lurk below.

Using the knife as a hold whenever she needed it, Azula climbed down the tree, the echoes of each strike that pierced the trunk reverberating throughout the surrounding greenery. It struck her as odd that, aside from her descent, the swamp was almost completely silent. At the very least, she expected birds to be calling in the distance. A swamp, after all, was just a cooler and perhaps wetter version of a tropical jungle, and Azula was certain that the tropical areas of the Fire Nation were never quiet.

"Azula, wait."

Azula turned towards the voice, knife in hand. She nearly dropped it.

"Zuko? Zuko? Impossible."

"Do you know how great-grandfather Sozin died?"

Zuko was standing in the middle of the swamp, staring at a floating portrait of Fire Lord Sozin. If she had any doubt that this was an illusion, the suspended painting confirmed it. But when she blinked, the image was gone.

She shook her head lightly, and using her compass, found east and began heading in a straight line, or as much a straight line as the swamp would allow. At times she would have to hack through some vines or thick undergrowth, which was horribly inefficient with her little knife. Occasionally, she lit fire in her hand, then closed it, arguing with herself on whether it would be a good idea to burn her way through instead of slashing.

"Forget it! I'm not going!" Zuko called out, from somewhere, or everywhere. Azula immediately recalled her brother's borderline tantrum over not being officially invited to a war meeting before he decided to defect to the Avatar. Zuko and war meetings... it was so obvious how uncomfortable he was once he was there, although her father seemed not to notice at the time. And the fool nearly spoke out of turn again and got the other side of his face burned.

She walked around a large tree and saw Zuko, again, this time leaning against a giant mushroom and holding a cast mold of his hand-print as a child. Azula was again flooded with memories, and found herself whispering, almost against her will, "Come on... come to the beach with me. This place is depressing."

Months ago he had nodded, his shoulders slumped in defeat, though defeated by what she did not know. Then she remembered the look that he gave her on their silent stroll to meet up with Ty Lee and Mai. A look of longing, of gratitude, and yet still guardedness, but in that rare moment they were siblings and nothing else.

But this apparition just stared at her. Azula clenched her fists and punched twin fireballs at her false brother, the bomblets stronger than she expected, and the blast detonated the mushroom into flaming chunks.

"You wouldn't understand, because you're just so perfect," Zuko said, but he was gone.

Azula growled. She'd prefer another encounter with the water tribesman, if she was to be tortured by mirages again. Anyone but her brother. Her brother, who spurned her efforts to reintegrate him into the royal house. Her brother, who stole the throne and the crown and tossed her into a padded prison to be forgotten. Azula continued on her linear path, using either the knife or sabers of flame to cut a path. The firebending was strenuous, but it felt good to vent her anger, and it was encouraging to see her ability to produce flame was at least nearing the minimum for a conscript.

Who am I trying to fool? Bending like the rank and file of the military is pathetic for a prodigy.

"That guard told you!"

Told me what? Oh, there goes Mai to untangle Ty Lee's braid.

"Why did you do it?"

Do what? Oh, I told you Zuko, I was doing you a favor. It just so happened that I was also doing myself a favor at the same time, in case the Avatar survived. It would not do to have Father believe I was anything less than thorough.

"She's of no use to us now. How disappointing."

Azula ground her teeth. Ozai's voice was not loud, but he might as well have been shouting directly into her brain... which is more or less the best way of describing these... visions. She was wrong, she would much rather have Zuko around her right now than her father. And she couldn't fathom the sudden surge of these episodes, they were nearly constant now.

She was making progress while being harassed by these images, but the swamp could go on for miles and Azula was starting to wonder if she would die here. She didn't know what was safe to eat and none of the murky water looked safe to drink. She hopped over a log and nearly twisted her left ankle, before she found herself unable to move that leg and her right arm.

Coils of water had wrapped themselves around her limbs. She thought it might be a real waterbender, until she looked up and saw – impossibly – her mother manipulating the element. In moments, her mother shrank down, grew gradually younger and slimmer, her skin tone darkening, until a more plausible and familiar figure controlled the liquid: Katara. This was a memory she preferred to bury, but here it was, insisting upon itself. Back in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se, it had not been the first time Azula felt like she might lose, but it was the first time in an absolutely critical battle, and the first time someone was there to back her up. And it was her brother that did so.

As if on cue, an arc of flame flashed by and cut the water links in half with a hiss of steam. But when the mist cleared, she still couldn't move her limbs. In place of the water writhed a thick coil of vines. In place of Katara lurched a large and ghastly creature. Azula could only describe the thing as a swamp monster: it was a mass of green sinews with a patch of bark loosely resembling a face. And it was huge. Her intuition told her it was also completely real.

The creature lifted her up in the air and threw her into a muddy pit, the impact not terribly painful save for the pang any sharp movement sent through her shattered nose. Azula brought herself up to her feet, breathed in through her mouth, and thrust two fingers forward as she exhaled. The resultant stream of fire scorched across the swamp thing's body.

Good, it can be damaged.

However, the damage was superficial. A few charred bits of plantlike material fell to the ground, but were quickly replaced as the bark-faced hulk absorbed the surrounding flora into itself. Azula kicked and punched orange blasts in rapid succession, and each time the little scar would be healed. The creature simply walked through her attacks, lifted a massive arm into the air, and swatted her across the soggy landscape.

She felt dizzy, either from the impact, the lack of food or water, or all the exertion she had already put herself through today. She wasn't going to last much longer. So she decided to end it now, one way or another.

Azula took a horse stance. In a wide arc, her right arm traced a half circle, followed by her left, and sparks of blue escaped from her fingertips. She could feel herself slip into the familiar trance, focusing just on the energy itself, felt it growing and rising within her. She brought her chi together, outwards, and used it to cleave the ambient energy around her, to carve a path towards her target. And then she allowed it to come crashing together, giving it only one last instruction by pointing towards the giant thing trying to kill her.

She saw, for a moment, lightning. For the first time since the comet. And for a moment, the release felt good.

Then she realized she was soaking wet. And standing in yet more water. And her form was off to boot.

The lightning, like maggots on carrion, forked in random directions, mostly back towards herself. It was wild and unfocused, much different than when a firebender truly controls it, but it was still excruciating. She was being cooked from the inside out.

A pair of memories came to the forefront of her mind, pushing past the pain. She watched Zuko curled up in agony from her own lightning strike, the eerie glow of Sozin's Comet overhead. She watched the Avatar spasm violently as she shot him in the back. In both cases, she saw the waterbender shed tears and glare at her with both disbelief and utter hatred as she tried to bring the males back from the brink of death. As the images flashed by quickly, Azula shared the agony of her victims. But she had no waterbending healer in her corner. She had no one at all.

The ever-present humming of the war balloon's machinery was like a lullaby to Ty Lee. Her friend, traveling companion, and commander did not appreciate Ty Lee's dozing, but what did Suki expect? Being up in the air in a tiny space for such a long time was dreadfully boring, and the storm had been the perfect cover for Azula to escape. Why didn't Suki just call it off and regroup back in the capital?

Instead, they were flying in a mostly random search pattern along the coastal regions of the Earth Kingdom, following Suki's intuition and little else. They could not get past the storm to the north, so Suki had reasoned Azula probably didn't have much better luck. Of course, there was no way to be sure.

"I wish Sokka was here," Suki suddenly said, lowering her spyglass.

"Yeah... me too," Ty Lee replied dreamily.

Suki cleared her throat and Ty Lee found herself under a glare that could melt the Northern Water Tribe.

"That is, I mean, well... he is... ah... I'm sorry?" Ty Lee stammered out.

Suki shook her head. "What I mean is, he would have been able to figure out some plan by now. Azula never would have even escaped the Fire Nation." She sighed. "But I miss him too. A lot."

Ty Lee just nodded. It was safer that way.

"Oh, and just so we're clear-"

"Suki, I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize our friendship, especially over a boy."

"Good."

"But he is a real cutie!"

"Ty Lee..."

"I'm just saying."

Ty Lee saw something bright reflect off Suki's eyes, and a low rumble shortly thereafter. Suki immediately grabbed the rudder assembly of their craft and changed their heading to bear inland.

"Aren't we supposed to stay away from storms?"

"That wasn't from any storm," Suki replied. "How often do you see lightning travel from the ground up to a clear sky?"