Chapter 33
Azula breathes in deeply. Her stomach flutters oddly as she faces Guru Pathik. She's meditated before, of course, to focus her firebending powers. But unblocking her chakras? That sounds far more extensive.
"The first chakra you must unlock is the Earth Chakra at the base of your spine," Pathik says, voice low and clear.
"It deals with survival, and is blocked by fear. What are you afraid of, Azula?"
Images appear in the smoke: Azula on the ground, chi-blocked by her best friend, betrayed and abandoned. Kneeling at her father's feet, banners of the Phoenix King fluttering, as he tells her he's leaving her behind. Running through a Colonial town, tears streaming down her face. Sitting in her hut, shivering and smelling yapian.
"I'm afraid of being alone," Azula confesses. "I've always been alone."
"Is that why you concealed your identity from your new friends?" Pathik asks gently. "Did you fear that if they knew who you were, they'd abandon you?"
"Yes," Azula chokes out. "And I was right." Altan's lips had curled in revulsion when he learned who she was. She had hoped—but she was naïve to think someone could love her.
"You're not alone, Princess." New faces swirl in the smoke: Zuko, his hand outstretched. Ursa with her changed face, asking for forgiveness. And, to Azula's surprise, Temurin standing against the backdrop of a battle, holding her fiercely.
"That doesn't count," Azula says immediately. "He doesn't know about me. He'd leave me too."
"He knows who you are." Pathik smiles. "Azula, you must not let your fear of being alone prevent you from seeing the people who already love you. Trust that your friends will stay. Let your fear go."
Azula's bottom lip quivers. Being alone with herself is a terrible prospect. But if Pathik is right, perhaps there is some hope. She inhales deeply. Trust your friends. As she exhales, she imagines unknotting and unwinding all the tangled fear within her, letting it spool out into the mist. Trust. A muscle in her back relaxes.
"Good, Princess." Pathik picks up a wooden ladle and pours water onto the fire. Sour-smelling steam billows up and surrounds the room until Azula can no longer see the guru's face.
"This next chakra will be very hard for you. It is your water chakra, and deals with pleasure. It is blocked by guilt."
Azula watches herself standing atop the walls of Ba Sing Se, overseeing the city. "Kill everyone who resists," the younger Azula orders a helmeted commander. "They don't deserve our mercy…"
A flash of lightning in an arena built for death. Zuko falls, clutching his chest, and the water-bender screams. Azula looks down at her smoking fingers. Did she do this?
Another lightning strike, and her half-brother Akira falls dead to the floor next to the body of their father. Zuko, wrists bound in chains, stares in horror at their brother. Zuko's eyes go dull, their characteristic spark extinguished. Her fault.
Faster now, Temurin collapses, clutching his ribs where she struck him, eyes accusing her. And Altan, distracted by her plea for forgiveness, a knife hilt protruding from his head. All her doing.
"My fault," Azula hears herself say raggedly, voice hitched with tears. "So many dead. All my fault."
"You must accept that these things happened." Pathik's voice drifts through the visions. "Accept your responsibility. And then let your remorse drive you to change."
"I don't want to hurt my friends," Azula says. "But I do—I always do—I always will."
"If you feel guilt, you've already taken the first step."
Azula can't see Pathik; instead, the visions shoot by faster and faster in blurs of vivid color. Ba Sing Se. The bandits. Zuko. Akira. Temurin. Altan. Mai and Ty Lee join their ranks. She would have killed her only friends.
"Make it stop!" Azula begs. "Please."
"Accept what you have done. And move on."
But Azula can't. The guilt is like quickstand, sucking her deeper and deeper into visions of everyone's she's ever harmed. Too many people…it's too much.
"Hold her still!" Temurin orders. Wakaba, Nekana's erstwhile student, places two sturdy hands on Nekana's thin frame, wide face pale and nervous. Temurin places one hand on either side of Nekana's face, dropping his needle. Thank the spirits he finished sewing up her wound before she started these convulsions. Nekana struggles weakly against him, but only succeeds in pressing herself deeper into one of Mayor Sota's spare beds.
"Father, no…" Nekana moans. "Father, I don't want to anymore."
Temurin's blood chills. Nekana's lips are chapped, her skin stretched tight against her cheekbones. Her father…she must mean Firelord Ozai. What would it have been like to have him as a father? He glances over at Wakaba. If Nekana talks this much in her sleep, she may end up revealing her identity.
"It will be alright, Nekana," Wakaba says unexpectedly, grabbing one of Nekana's fragile hands. "We're here."
"I don't think she can hear you," Temurin says dutifully. But it warms him that someone cares. If only Nekana knew.
With a sigh, Nekana drifts off to a more peaceful sleep. Temurin releases his grip, and her head falls so her cheek rests against the pillow, exposing the side of her pale throat. Temurin surveys the shaved wreck of Nekana's skull. She's so weak. So thin. And yet so deadly.
"I'll look after her," Wakaba volunteers.
"You will?" Temurin hesitates. As much as he wants to, he can't stay with Nekana constantly. There are dozens of injured from the battle who need his attention, all housed in the various rooms of Mayor Sota's mansion. But what if Nekana says something?
"Yes. You're not Nekana's only friend, you know." Wakaba plunks herself down by Nekana's bedside.
"If she says something odd…ignore her," Temurin orders.
"It's no wonder she's upset," Wakaba says quietly. "Her husband just died."
Temurin turns away at the reminder. He can't think of the dead when so many are dying.
"Let me know if she wakes."
"We're here."
"Azula, I forgive you."
"Accept what you have done."
Azula feels a strong hand grasp hers.
"Princess," Guru Pathik says through the fog. "Given the chance, would you make different choices?"
"Yes."
"Then let the past go, and make amends where you can."
It's so hard for Azula to think when the faces are still flashing by. But she tries.
"I'm sorry for what I've done," Azula says deliberately. The steam condenses on her skin, dripping down her cheeks like she's emerged from a hot bath. She envisions her past dripping off of her bit by bit until she is clean and new.
Her lower stomach relaxes, and Azula opens her eyes. Did I do it?
Guru Pathik holds out a shell sloshing with yellow soup.
"Drink up," he says. "You'll need your strength after clearing that chakra."
His eyes twinkle in a way that Azula doesn't trust, but Azula accepts the soup. She does feel drained and empty. But not necessarily in a bad way. She sips the soup, and tries to hide her disgust. Bananas and onions? She can tell Guru Pathik is waiting for her reaction, so she quickly downs the entire cup.
"Delicious," she lies.
Pathik laughs.
Zuko floats from dream to dream. In one, he's teaching Aang firebending again at the Western Air Temple. They flow through Sun Warrior forms beneath tiered towers that hang precariously from the bottom of craggy cliffs. Green moss slowly eats into the ancient buildings, and the cracks in the stone branch like veins on a palm. In front of Zuko are three alcoves displaying air nomads are rendered in stone.
"Come on, Zuko!" Aang shouts. "Let's learn to waterbend!" The young Avatar rolls a ball of water down his elbows, then manipulates the liquid into a playful squiggle.
"I can't, Aang," Zuko says. "I have to be Firelord."
Aang frowns, then bursts into a thousand droplets of water. The entire scene melts, and Zuko falls down the whirlpool, down, down to a small steam-filled room.
Azula stares at him with liquid golden eyes. She looks healthy, strong, and Zuko is suddenly aware that he's dreaming.
"Zuko, I owe you an apology," she says. To her right, a dark-skinned man folds a piece of orange paper into a tiny swan. He shakes his head irritably, and tosses the swan aside.
"I've tormented you for years. Even when you gave me chance after chance," Azula says, shaking her head. "I'm-I'm so ashamed."
"Azula," Zuko says, shocked.
"I'm going to try to do better, but I don't think I'll ever see you again," his sister confesses. "So I need to apologize properly. I'm sorry for lying, and for fighting you. I was wrong."
Zuko's mind whirls. This is too odd to be a dream.
"Iroh once told me that pride is the source of shame," he says. "But you don't seem prideful now, Azula."
"Can you forgive me?"
"Azula," Zuko says as gently as he can. "I forgave you for everything years ago."
Azula's face splits into a beautiful, clear smile, for once not tinged by ambition or cruel satisfaction. A real smile. It breaks Zuko's heart. She understands.
Her face wavers like the reflection in a pool after someone casts a stone in the water. As the vision trembles, Zuko awakens with a gasp to his bedroom in the Fire Nation palace. Mai lays beside him, curled on her side under maroon satin sheets. Her shining black hair reflects the moonlight. Shuddering, Zuko wipes the moisture off his cheeks.
It seemed so real.