A/N: New year, new chapter! I'm sorry this one took me so long. Midway it got a little out of control in terms of length, so I ended up splitting it into two. This part is shorter than usual as a result, but the bright side is, I'll likely get the second part up more quickly.
Hope you enjoy!
21. The Professor's Lesson Plan (I)
A few mornings later, Isla was washing Azula's hair. The nurse prepared a sinkful of hot water, then lathered it with a shampoo she had compounded especially for her. She massaged it in while Azula reclined back, the air permeated with its familiar aromatic scent. Isla followed up as always with a conditioner, which gave her hair an even better, softer feeling than it had had back in the palace.
When Isla was done, she brushed out Azula's hair and laid it out as best as she could before the mirror. But even with a proper hygienic regimen, Azula still looked messy thanks to the self-haircut she had given herself all those months ago. Her jagged fringe had grown out, the shortest end now nearly down to her chin.
"Would you like me to cut your hair?" Isla said.
Azula wavered for a moment while she stared at her reflection. She grumbled. "Fine. But how are you going to make it normal if you didn't do it last time?"
Isla pulled a spare sheet over Azula's shoulders and spread out her hair over the edge of the chair. "Don't worry. I did my friends' hair all the time. Even my younger brother's." Her gaze deadpanned for a second, but she brushed it off with a smile. "Here. I'll brush it out, then I'll be able to see what your servants did."
She brushed through Azula's hair with a comb, then opened a drawer and took out a box of supplies. In the meantime, Azula opened one of the Professor's scrolls she had been reading.
Analects of the Sun Warriors
Fifth Analect
Compiled by Lao Kabil
It is an ancient wisdom of the Sun Warriors, a now-extinct indigenous tribe of the Fire Islands, that firebending begins with the breath. With the passage of centuries, this message was distilled from its original context to create the firebending education of today, which is aimed at teaching firebenders to master a static set of fighting or utility forms.
But among the Sun Warriors, one finds a different tradition. Firebending is treated not only as a means of producing effects in the environment, but also as a medium through which one may obtain contact with the Unseen. The firebenders that grew from this tradition of teaching and living had a level of skill not encountered in other societies. However, due to the philosophy of harmony central to their culture, the Sun Warriors did not wage war with their neighbors, and were driven from their territories by more violent peoples. (...)
Peace on the Fire Islands was historically maintained by the sacred order of Fire Sages, with one Sage hailing from each major tribe. Yet for as long as the tribes remained separate, conflicts abounded. Finally, there came a young Sage who vowed to learn the teachings and customs of all the Fire peoples. This man hailed from the Bhanti tribe and traveled to all the lands in order to record a book of their wisdom. His quest took him to the home of the Sun Warriors, and it was there among their Masters that he learned the ancient art of firebending.
He then relayed the greatest wisdom to the other Sages, namely the Breath of Fire, which in the ancient language of the Sun Warriors is synonymous with the Breath of Life. Thus he was bestowed the name Atem Ra.
His wisdom and mastery were such that he was chosen by the Fire Sages to lead. Soon, peace and justice reigned over the lands that had been torn apart by conflict. The era that followed was an era of unity, and Atem Ra was crowned the first Fire Lord…
"Looks interesting," Isla commented.
Azula's gaze flickered up from the scroll. "Oh. Yeah, the Professor gave it to me."
Isla squinted down at the writing. "I think I've come across it before. It's the one about the Sun Warriors, isn't it?"
"Yeah. They knew the ancient secrets of firebending and taught the first Fire Lord."
"Legend has it that they were the first people to learn firebending from the dragons," Isla said. "In fact they were the only group of humans who could freely interact with them as their students. All others had to be deemed worthy by the dragons first."
An unbidden smile tugged at the corner of Azula's mouth. "I wonder what their requirements were."
Isla shrugged a shoulder. "Only the spirits know now."
Azula sat back, watching in the mirror while Isla continued to separate her hair into chunks. Her head was now a dollop of brown waves and pink clips. "The Professor sort of said the same thing you were talking about earlier."
Isla made a few snips with her scissors."Hm?"
"What you told me about the energy source for firebending. It's the same energy that's the source for all other bending, right?"
"That's right."
"He said that there's one fountain of life that feeds the whole universe. All the different bender groups tried to get in touch with it through their own forms of bending. Is that the energy you were talking about?"
"Yes. That's exactly it. The energy that underlies bending is present in all living things. What distinguishes a bender from a nonbender is their ability to channel that energy into an elemental power. But what makes a bender truly great is the ability to use their elemental power to reconnect with its original source. Some nonbenders even have the ability to sense it."
"Like you do when you make my serum."
"Yes."
"Do you think the Professor knows all that?"
Isla did not reply for a moment, her long hair hiding her expression. "I think so."
When the hour was up, clumps of Azula's hair lay on the floor, and left behind was the same style she had always had. Azula pulled her hair back into a bun and watched the familiar two tresses fall to frame the sides of her face. It was almost surreal.
Isla brought over a bowl of fruit she had prepared for herself and shared it with Azula. They sat in silence by the bed for a while, picking fruit from the bowl, each lost in their own thoughts.
At last, Azula spoke. "I still don't quite understand something. Dr. Low said that the Avatar took my father's bending away. But from what I know, that's impossible."
"It's not impossible," Isla replied. "Any more than chi-blocking is."
Azula's eyebrows shot up. "So you know how he did it?"
Isla gave a nod. "It was a form of energybending. The source of energy that underlies all bending is still just another form of energy, and if you have the ability to sense it, then theoretically, you can manipulate it too. My guess is that the Avatar severed your father's ability to channel his chi into firebending while leaving it intact as his life force. But the technique is impossible to learn. How the Avatar managed to do it, I can't say."
"And he chose to do that instead of killing my father."
"It would seem so." Isla's eyes lingered on her and she tilted her head to the side. "Though it appears to upset you."
Azula looked down. "I'm not upset. It's just funny… How similar they are. Zuko and the Avatar. So willing to be merciful. As if that proves their righteousness somehow."
"There is nothing wrong with mercy," Isla replied. "If I were you, I'd see it as a peace offering. Whatever happened between you and your brother, it was evidently more important to him to heal you than to throw you away into prison and forget about you."
"Or maybe he only did it to feel good about himself," Azula replied. "Obviously our father's a danger to him, so he had to lock him up. But for me, Zuko suddenly decided to be a savior for some reason and give me special attention and healing from something. How could he have even known that there is a something?"
"Maybe because he observed you?" Isla suggested.
A scowl flickered over Azula's expression. "Well, I don't like being observed. And if I ever do get better, I'll just be his little succeeded experiment. The perfect, golden brother fixes his crazy sister."
"What makes you think people will see it that way?"
"Because it's obvious. Everything's about Zuko. No one really cares about me."
"We care about you," Isla said.
Azula grumbled but said nothing. Isla finished the last fruit piece and rinsed out the bowl in the sink.
"So where's your brother?" Azula asked.
"He's dead."
"Oh." A silence rushed in, cold and hollow. Azula hesitated before speaking up. "What… happened to him?"
Isla's gaze fell. "We were both thirteen. He drowned in a lake. I couldn't save him."
Azula kept looking at the nurse, feeling a sharp wave of tension rise in the air. But she was at a loss for what to do now that she had unleashed it.
"My condolences," she said.
That was what everyone said.
But what use was it, in the grand scheme of things?
Isla shook her head briskly, as if her own thoughts had tangled up. "It's all right." She took the clean bowl under her arm and went towards the door. "I'll tell Dee you'll be ready to start soon."
…
The day passed by. Towards the evening, Nira and Kira began to clean all the bedrooms, and by the time it was dark they got to Azula's. They marched in, armed with rags and a pair of mops, their protective rubber shoes squeaking on the tiles. Azula drank her tea at the wooden table, listening while they worked.
"Can't… get – this – stain… off…" Nira grumbled. She was scrubbing her mop against a spot beneath the heating pipes.
Kira looked askance. "Try giving it more solution."
Nira gave up mopping with a huff. She accepted the bottle from Kira and squirted out a handful onto a rag. She knelt down and began to scrub the stain manually. When she was done, she sat up and slapped her hands to her knees.
"This must be the hundredth time I've done this. Why is it always so dirty beneath the heating pipes?"
Kira went over and inspected the heater. "I think some of the water's been leaking out. The screws probably aren't completely tight."
"But why is the water colored like rust?"
"Probably the pipes are rusty."
Nira pressed a hand to her forehead. "Urgh…"
Azula surveyed them from a distance. She had seen the splotches form on the floor before, but the phenomenon had grown so commonplace that it seemed like just another part of the room to her. Kira heated up the water in the bucket and began to scrub the stain with a steaming rag, which seemed to help.
Right then, a knock came on the door. Azula turned around as it opened by a crack.
"Azula?" Dr. Low poked his head inside. "It's me."
"Oh. Hi."
He took a step in. He had his notebook under his arm. "I just wanted to ask you a bit more about your family dynamic, if that's all right with you."
"Sure."
He looked to Nira and Kira. "We can move if you want."
"It's fine."
"All right." He pulled up the second chair and sat down across from her. He'd been thinking on something for a good while, it seemed. Azula watched as he flipped through several pages, all of them filled with writing.
"First of all, how was the relationship between your parents?" he asked. "You said that early on, you four were all right. But then you seemed to imply that things got worse eventually."
"Yeah, they did."
"How?"
Azula squinted as she tried to find the right words. "I don't know how to put it. They just drifted apart. Mom drifted towards Zuko and I drifted towards Dad."
Dr. Low pondered this and gave a nod. "Now, you mentioned that your father and Fire Lord Azulon didn't see eye-to-eye. Do you know about what, in particular?"
"Ruling styles, I guess," Azula replied. "When Dad started training me more in governing, he talked about how a Fire Lord was someone who had to be a master of everything and get all possible information so that he could make the right plans. But Grandfather liked to do things his own way. He usually stuck to a single plan regardless of what his ministers told him."
"So their disagreements were more political than personal?"
"I don't know… I don't think Dad and Grandfather really liked each other personally, either. I remember during his royal galas, Azulon and Uncle would always be talking, but Dad would stay away from them. Even when Uncle was off in battle, Dad wouldn't talk to Grandfather unless it was something formal." She paused. "Also, Uncle's twenty years older than Dad. So he was Grandfather's only child for all that time before Dad came along. I guess that was kind of jarring."
"Hm." Dr. Low jotted this down. "Yes, I can imagine that might be. The youngest child can sometimes tend to feel left out of the family, so when the age difference is greater, the effects could be greater as well… Then there's also a factor of the older sibling being jealous of the younger for being the new center of attention, especially in cases where the younger supersedes them in a certain skill. Like you and Zuko."
"So you're saying Zuko was jealous of me when we were kids because I was younger, not just because I was better at firebending?"
"He could have been," said Dr. Low. "But in truth, your case seems to be different. For one thing, you mentioned that you and Zuko did have fun together on occasion. You played outside, you talked about school, and as you both made progress with your firebending training you even helped each other out. So it seems Zuko was perfectly happy to accept you as his playmate early on."
"Until he stopped," Azula remarked.
"Well, at what point did he stop?"
Azula shrugged. "I don't know… Maybe as he started getting closer to Mom and I got closer to Dad. Dad must've thought that I'd make a better ruler than Zuko, so he left him out."
Dr. Low rubbed his chin. "That could be the case. From what you've been telling me, it seems that Zuko's role as the crown prince was very important to him. And whenever he observed you fulfilling a function that was reserved for that role, he'd perceive you as a contender. That perception could have very well moved on to cloud his normal interactions with you, thus creating a feeling of division between you two."
"That makes sense."
"Now, you said that Zuko was closer to your mother than you were," Dr. Low continued. "Did you try to obtain your mother's attention?"
Azula's face fell into a scowl. "Yes. Stupidly. Because she didn't care. I used to make drawings just to show her, to be like a normal girl and all. I'd show off my firebending for her too, but I guess she didn't like that." She crossed her arms. "Though I guess Dad wasn't keen on watching everything Zuko tried to show him either. So we both got the short end of the deal, in a way."
Dr. Low looked at her in curiosity. "And yet you say that your parents started out having good relations with each other?"
"Yeah, as far as I know."
"What about your father and Zuko?"
Azula shrugged. "I don't think they ever really saw eye-to-eye either."
"About what?"
"Anything."
"So, personal things as well as political."
"Yeah. I mean, it was pretty obvious from the Agni Kai. Zuko had this idealistic sense of right and wrong, while Dad was more of a pragmatist, and they fought about it for years. Then when Dad finally tried to show Zuko the meaning of disagreeing gracefully, Zuko took it like a baby."
"Disagreeing gracefully?"
"Yeah. He talked back to General Bujing when it wasn't his turn to speak, and when Dad hadn't even invited him into the war room. If Zuko had at least fought, I think Dad would've let it slide, because it'd show Zuko had some backbone. But he didn't."
Dr. Low studied her. "Do you feel like you understood your father in a way Zuko didn't?"
A frown creased Azula's forehead. Her gaze flickered down to the floor as flurries of images ran through her memory. Her father's hand clasped around hers, guiding her through the motions of lightning. A pat on the shoulder to welcome her when she came to watch a ship being built. His smiles as she confided in him opinions she wouldn't have dared express in front of Ursa or Zuko or Iroh, and that little twinkle in his eye that told her that he couldn't have worded things any better way. Walking beside him, sitting at his right-hand side… Then finally the strange air that had come over him in the final months. No, something had definitely been different about him. Ever since she had come back with Zuko, in fact. Ever since that little lie had left her mouth, the one about Zuko killing the Avatar.
Right after that moment, something had shifted. Suddenly she couldn't quite decipher the thoughts behind his expressions anymore. Or the plans behind his gestures. Suddenly her relationships with the people around her had started to feel shifty and displaced, and soon where there had once been sure ground she found her own feet stumbling...
Azula began to shake her head without being aware of it. "I don't know," she said at last. "It felt like I did… When I was a kid, I mean. But maybe I was wrong. I don't know anymore..."
Dr. Low was silent.
Azula fell back into her chair, gaze trailing down to her lap. "I mean… maybe I'm not supposed to," she mused, after a pause. "Maybe there's supposed to be this constant wall between me and my parents. I'm technically not their friend, I'm just their descendant. They didn't ask for me to be born – me in particular, I mean – and I didn't ask for them to be my parents. Having kids is almost like a game of chance to see if you end up with someone you can be around. And sometimes you just don't. So maybe it's normal that I don't really know my dad or my mom, and they don't have to want to know me. Right?" She looked up at Dr. Low for confirmation.
His hand had gone slack around the pen, and he was staring at her with an expression of utter shock.
Azula's thoughts blanked. She hesitated for a moment, though Dr. Low remained unmoving, and tentatively went on. "I mean… for my family, at least. Maybe that's normal. You said that my family might not be like a normal family because it's the royal family. I guess I can see that being true... But what would make it so different, exactly?"
Dr. Low's gaze wandered aside. It fell back to the notebook and he spent a while scanning through it, turning the pages with a deep, clouded expression. "It's very hard for me to say right now. The nature of a family's life depends highly on the personalities of the people involved. It could be… that your parents simply had a lot of disagreements, but preferred to keep away from each other during conflicts instead of arguing them out. And so whichever child was around them the most would get their point of view on things, while never having any reason to think that anything between the parents was wrong…" He paused. "Do you know if they had an arranged marriage? Forgive me for asking."
Azula bit her lip as she pondered. "Um… I guess they had to have. I don't really know. But that's how everyone always did it in our family." She squinted. "I think Uncle actually chose his wife himself, but he still had to choose from the nobility."
"Was your mother a noble?"
"I don't know."
"Who were your relatives on her side of the family?"
Azula shrugged. "I don't know."
Dr. Low pursed his lips. "Hm."
"I hardly know anything about her," Azula said. "Just what she was like when I was a kid. But she never really talked about anything from her personal life." Her expression darkened. "But maybe she told Zuko, of course, I don't know." She crossed her arms.
Dr. Low read over his notes some more. Then he looked out the window and spent a minute sipping his tea, not saying anything. A bit of that former clouded look returned to his face.
Azula gazed at him, feeling the urge to patch up the silence. "I mean, I would've loved to have gotten along with her. Really, I would have. But if we didn't, then why should I whine about it? Zuko always whined about everything, and it annoyed me. If I were him, I would've just accepted the fact that I'd never be buddy-buddy with Dad just like I had to accept that I'd never be like those other girls who were best friends with their mom. I mean, I thought I was, but I wasn't. It's not that I didn't care – it's just that I didn't see a point in going out of my way to prove myself to someone who didn't care for me. And maybe she was even right, maybe we couldn't have worked out as mother and daughter. So why lie to me? If she didn't think I was worth the effort of caring for, then at the very least I would've appreciated honesty from her. That's the difference between Zuko and me." Azula looked away, frowning. "And really, Dad did put in effort for him. Zuko just didn't see it…"
Dr. Low was still looking down at his notebook, a hand on his temple. He nodded. "Thank you. I'll think about this."
Azula swept out her hand. "Sure."
He rose and took the notebook under his am. "Would you mind if I took this with me? Having the notes in front of me helps loads."
"But you always take it with you."
He smiled. "Actually I started by accident. A habit from the clinic, if you will. It just occurred to me I never properly asked you."
Azula shrugged a shoulder. "Well, go ahead."
"Thank you."
He left. Azula kept staring at the door after he was gone, her thoughts for some reason still buzzing.
At that point, Nira and Kira finished cleaning. They cleaned up their supplies and filed out of the room, the empty buckets swinging from their arms.
"Now we do the craft room, then Dee's office," Kira was saying.
"What we need is to change the pipes!" Nira huffed.
"Yeah, and maybe build a whole new building too while we're at it? It's not reasonable, Nira. Maybe someday, but right now, we have stains on the floor and they need to get out."
"Urgh..."
The two nurses filed out of the room and let the door fall closed.
Azula sat in place for a long time, running her fingers through her hair. For some reason the jarred look that had crossed Dr. Low's face had stamped itself into her mind. It was an emotion she had never seen on his face before. But she hadn't said anything wrong... Or had she?
After a few seconds of mental debate, a wild compulsion took over her and she whipped her head towards the spot where Nira and Kira had just been. But the nurses had been working in oblivion the whole time; they likely hadn't even been paying attention to the conversation. Asking them for their impression would bring nothing.
Azula grumbled and leaned back over the table, boring her gaze into the teacup.
"So where's your brother?"
"He's dead."
Azula sat there, running the events over and over in her mind, until the remaining tea went cold.
…
Roaches were crawling out of Mira's rice. The bowl lay upturned on the hallway floor, shattered, and the little black bugs were scurrying out from the heaps of food in every direction. Azula watched them with a strange fascination as they trickled away from the swarm, some squeezing under doors, others ambling along in open space without any hurry.
Mira had flattened her back against the wall, in a tiptoed stance so high that an acrobat would have been jealous. Her face was blanched white. "Oh, dear sacred Ra… oh heavens..."
Azula took a step back as a roach crawled towards her foot. It scurried off towards her doorway, then changed direction and went for the exit door.
Nira stumbled towards them moments later with a broom. "I've got it! Hold on!" She began to swat it at the floor. The long bristles smacked dryly against the tiles, and both rice and roaches were sent flying. One she managed to hit turned over onto its back, legs clawing up at nothing. The others hurried away, frantically diving under the closet doors and into the lounge.
Mira groaned and shoved Nira aside. "Oh, stop it! Move!" She stepped around Nira, extended the two forefingers of each hand and shot flames at the frenzied bugs. "Die! Die, you disgusting monsters, you freaks of n-nature!"
Not one did, however. The places she struck erupted in smoke, then faded to reveal brown char marks that missed the roach by a few inches. The bugs kept running, and Mira blasted and stomped, but within seconds the remaining stragglers had gotten away. She was left standing helplessly amid the mess, breaths ragged.
Her chin began to tremble. "I can't… I can't anymore… Just throw me in a fire and burn me!" Her voice ended in a warbling note and she clamped her hands over her face.
Nira placed a hand on Mira's shoulder as the other nurse began to sob. "Hey, it's okay! It's okay…" She swept all the scattered rice into a pile around the broken bowl. "I'll go tell Rana and she'll get us new rice."
Mira tore her hands away from her face. "Are you a bucket-head, Nira? If some of the rice is infested, then all of the rice is infested! None of those stupid lids screw on right!"
Right then Isla approached from the far end of the hallway. She was carrying a large cloth sack that was filled up with something. She took a nonplussed look at the shattered bowl. "Roaches."
Mira nodded in despair. "Uh-huh!"
"Well, they're in some of my herbs too," Isla said. "I knew it was a bad idea to keep all those boxes like that... We need a dehumidifying system. Keep the storage room cool and dry at all times." She shook the sack, and Azula could see tiny lumps wriggling about within.
Mira saw them too and covered her mouth as she dry-heaved. "Oh dear Agni..."
Isla left for the exit door, the sack in hand.
Not long after, Kira's footsteps approached from the nurse's quarters. "Is everything all right? I heard a..." Her gaze fell to the floor and her jaw dropped. "Mira! What happened?"
Mira's face turned into a red, wet snarl. "I'll tell you what happened! We got roaches in the food stores! And it's all your fault!"
Kira balked. "My fault?"
"Yeah! Thanks to your stupid new rule about keeping the spirit happy! Only that didn't really work out so well, did it? Considering now we have perishable food rotting in the thousand-degree storage closet under the hot water pipes and half the dried food rotting near the room with the broken windows where all the humid air comes in!"
Kira's face flushed. "That wasn't my fault! Everything I put there was in thermo-insulation boxes! I never said for people to start storing things there without them!"
"YES YOU DID!" Mira shrieked. "EVERYTHING'S YOUR FAULT! ALL OF YOUR STUPID RULES MAKE THIS PLACE A LIVING HELL!"
Nira rushed to separate them. "Stop it! Stop it! You're doing this in front of Azula! Your own patient!"
Azula merely retreated into her room. She sat back down at her table and finished what was left of her breakfast. This hadn't had rice in it, so she was content.
She ate at a calm pace, focused on nothing in particular, while Mira's and Kira's shouting filled up the hallway.
"Look!" Kira was saying. "The bugs are gone!"
"No they're not gone!" Mira shrieked. "They all went into the lounge!"
"Well, that's good, then! There's lots of cracks and nooks they can crawl into."
"Good? You're calling this good?! I'd like to see the look on your face when you're sitting reading in the evening and one of them crawls out of its little nook and goes right up your shoulder! I'd love to see that!"
The two nurses stormed into the lounge. The yelling continued there, muffled only slightly after one of them slammed the door.
Moments into the wake of the bang, Nira came into the room. She was rubbing her forehead. "Oh heavens… I'm so sorry, Azula."
"It's fine," Azula said.
"The Professor's coming in a minute. I'll get you both tea."
She took the empty breakfast tray and left. Mira and Kira continued to argue, Mira by the sound of it displacing things as she walked about. Kira said something inaudible and Mira retaliated with a scream.
"THIS WHOLE HEAVENS-DAMNED SHACK IS FALLING APART AND YOU'RE DRIFTING UP IN LA-LA LAND PRETENDING IT'S FINE!"
Nira brought back tea. She was biting her lip, eyes wide in distress. She placed the tea set before Azula without a word, then ducked back into the hallway and opened the lounge door.
"Could you two maybe not scream at each other?" Nira shouted inside. "Azula's about to start therapy!"
She slammed the door and stormed off.
"It's called doing one thing at a time, Mira!" Kira continued a moment later.
"Do you understand that this is a sanitary violation, Kira? Any hospital on the mainland would get shut down if ant-roaches got into the supplies! Does that go through your thick skull at all?" A smack as something hit the couch. "No! It obviously doesn't!"
"Mira, stop it! The broom isn't going to make them –"
"Let go!"
Something clattered to the floor. Kira huffed out a breath. "You know what, Mira? I think I know what the problem here is! The problem is you! No matter what new thing we start, you're always the first one to complain! Everything we have here, you manage find a problem with it, down to the last nail holding the shelves together!"
"Oh, so I'm the problem now! Me!"
"Yes, you! I understand frustration, I understand complaints, but you're the only one of us here who throws hissy fits! I'm not sure if you ever got the memo, but things in life aren't always squeaky-clean puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly! Sometimes we have to deal with unpleasant things, or work with people we might not get along with, or make sacrifices for the sake of a broader goal!"
"I never said I had a problem with any of that! My problem is when we have perfectly preventable and unnecessary problems like roaches and mold and leaking roofs that are the direct cause of your – stupid – ideas – let go, I said!"
There were loud stomps as Nira threw open the lounge door again. "For the heavens' and Agni's sake, shut up! Both of you!" There was a wet, misty sound as she sprayed something into the room. Instantly the other nurses' shouts were replaced with sounds of spitting and coughing.
"Ow, ow, my eyes!" Mira spit and bumped into something.
"Nira, what is that?" Kira said.
"It's Isla's citrus spray," Nira replied. "And if I hear another sound from either of you, I'm going to go back for double concentration! Then we'll see who's the bucket-head!" She sprayed another cloud of mist in warning and fled down the hallway.
Moments later, Azula's door opened to reveal the Professor. Azula caught a brief glimpse of the lounge where Mira and Kira had begun to argue again before her door fell closed.
The Professor glanced back over his shoulder. "Hm. Does this happen often?"
"Pretty much."
He smiled. "Makes you wonder sometimes who should be the patient here, huh?"
This brought a faint smile to Azula's face as well. But it dipped down moments later; the thought wasn't really funny anymore. She pitied the nurses now. Maybe even more than she pitied herself.
The Professor sat down at the table and poured himself some of the mango tea. He took a few sips. "So, Princess, how did you like the reading?"
"It was interesting."
"Which scroll stood out to you the most?"
"The one about the Sun Warriors."
A smile spread over the Professor's face. "Ah, yes. That's one of my favorites as well. Lao Kabil is nothing short of a hero. He started out as a shaman hardly anyone knew, and eventually he became one of the greatest firebending scholars in the early empire. I would've loved to meet him… He had the blood of the Sun Warriors too, by the way."
"So they're not extinct?"
The Professor laughed. "No, as a people, unfortunately, they are. But some survivors of their culture mixed with the other Fire peoples, so traces of their ancestry are still alive. Sadly the same can't be said for their philosophy. Lao Kabil's writings haven't been popular since pre-Sozin. I have a feeling if they were, we wouldn't have had a war."
Azula said nothing. Her gaze trailed away towards the window in contemplation, then went back to him. "Do you know how the Avatar took my father's firebending?"
The Professor's eyebrows climbed and he reclined in his chair with a breath. "That is a question that's been stumping me and my colleagues for months, Princess."
Azula lifted an eyebrow.
The Professor's smile returned, joking. "But I suppose we can always chalk it up to Avatar magic, eh?"
A disbelieving scowl tugged down Azula's mouth. "That's not good enough."
"No, Princess, it certainly isn't." The Professor chuckled. "You have the temperament of an academic. And without doubt the perseverance."
"I guess."
"So, did you get to the scroll about ancient firebending education?"
"I read it," Azula said. "I mean, it makes sense. Fire springs from breath, and breath means life. But I don't see how it's supposed to help me with my bending. I've never even felt those kinds of things when I was doing forms."
The Professor sighed. "That's understandable. Reading theory isn't enough. One must practice."
Azula gave a matter-of-fact shrug. "Well, I can't. I'm on the serum."
The Professor stroked his beard but said nothing. For a long moment he was thoughtful, only the heated notes of Mira and Kira's arguing in the background. Something was thrown at the wall, eliciting a bang.
At last, the Professor lowered his hand. His eyes found Azula, narrowing behind their spectacles. "Tell me, Princess, has anything they've been doing with you here helped you the slightest bit?"
A frown creased Azula's forehead. "What do you mean?"
"With your visions. Your feelings towards your firebending. Your confidence in your future, your overall well-being."
Azula lowered her gaze to her hands. She blinked numerous times. "I don't know about my firebending… But the visions never went away. My mom was there right from the first day."
"So Dr. Low and the nurses couldn't help you with that."
"I… guess not." Azula stared at him. There was a strange sort of contemplation in his expression and she didn't like the look of it. "Why?" she asked cautiously.
The Professor fixed his gaze on her. His eyes were more earnest and serious than they had ever been before. "I beg you answer this question with what is truly in your heart, Princess. Do you wish to leave?"
Tendrils of shock coursed through Azula. Her voice faded to a weak murmur. "What?"
"Do you wish to leave this island? End your treatment here?"
The words rang so bizarrely in her ears that Azula was certain she had heard him wrong. "I don't understand."
"I have the resources to get you out of here," the Professor said. "I admit I do not work for your brother and my contract was with Dr. Low personally. So perhaps this would defy the Fire Lord's wishes… But it truly distresses me to see the princess of my nation locked up in a place like this. I am willing to face the Fire Lord's wrath and smuggle you out if it is your sincere wish and command."
Azula's heart began to pound. "Why should I leave with you? Who are you?"
"I'm exactly who I say I am. I'm a firebending researcher from a village on the mainland. I've kept my exact location confidential for my institution's security, but if you leave with me, I will take you there. We are not a prison – you would be our honored guest and I would be able to help you there within the full scope of my abilities. We would ensure your contentment and well-being while I treat the root cause of your visions, and if you should want to leave at any time, we will not stop you."
Azula's gaze fell down. Her eyes ran over the grooves in the wooden table, over and over again. "But what about Dr. Low?"
"You let me take care of that, Princess. But please understand, it will involve a choice from you. You must either choose to come with me or stay. If you stay, I will simply tell Dr. Low that you are beyond my capabilities and leave with the next cargo ship. I'm afraid there's nothing else to be gained from my presence here."
There were more distant cries and bangs in the silence. Azula closed her eyes. Then she opened them. They narrowed, and she glanced at the Professor. "Will you cure me?"
His stare was firm. "Yes, Princess, I will cure you."
Azula looked away again. A storm of thoughts had picked up in her mind, each producing dozens of wild tangents too rapidly for her to keep tabs on them. She shook her head. "I don't know... I can't say... I'll think about it."
"Very well, Princess. Please do." The Professor rose and pushed his chair in. "If I may, I would ask that you give me your answer on the final day of this week. That way I will be able to plan everything properly. I'll ask you again during our therapy session."
"Fine."
The Professor gathered up all his scrolls and bowed a final time. His spectacles flashed in the light for a moment as he turned for the door, then he was gone.
