Part One: Battle for Ba Sing Se
Chapter 7: Destiny
"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." ~ unknown
"You're chasing after me, but what do you want?" Azula spoke in a far too calm voice for someone who'd been running up five flights of stairs, dodging fireballs.
She did not even sound out of breath.
Zuko panted, glaring at her. "Agni Kai. Here, now." He pointed at the stairs beneath his feet.
She leered at him from the top landing. Hands on her hips, head held high.
"It's too late for that Brother. No Agni Kai can fix the irreparable damage you've done to your Honor."
A growl escaped him. Zuko clenched his fists, feeling the fire roar inside.
"And besides," she tutted, examining her fingernails. "Think of what Mom would say if I hurt her favorite child."
Zuko saw red. "Don't you dare bring Mom into this!" he pointed at her, sparks flickering at his fingertip.
Azula shrugged. "She was my mother too."
"Is," Zuko whispered in a harsh hiss, more to himself than to his sister. "Is, not 'was'."
"Regardless, I'm not fighting you in an Agni Kai, Brother. I stand to gain nothing from that."
Zuko spread his arms wide, raised his eyebrows and showed his sister a smile that was all teeth. He let two fire whips grow out of his hands. "Scared?"
"Please," his sister rolled her eyes. "Like you could beat me with your mediocre firebending."
The fire whips were like his dual dao swords, an extension of his arms. With a whack of his left arm, he made a clean cut through the banister. Part of the top landing was also singed. Zuko drew his left arm back, snapping a fire whip at Azula's ankles with his right.
She diffused his flames with an effortless wave of the hand. And Zuko's right fire whip was cut short, missing its target by about two feet.
"Like I said," Azula went on. "We have nothing to divide." She spread her hands in a shrug. "You have nothing I want. Only reason I bothered looking for your sorry ass is Father asked me to. He wants to see you. For some reason. Don't ask me why, I don't know. He must have his reasons," she finished, narrowing her eyes crossly. Here she paused to smirk. "Though I doubt he intends to give you your title back."
Zuko swung his arms in a circular shape, making his fire whips hit the walls and ceiling. A glowing green crystal chandelier broke and fell. Azula dodged it at the last second, jumping further away from the stairs.
Pulling the fire whips back into his fists, Zuko ran up the last set of stairs. He leapt up in the air and aimed a flying side thrust kick at her exposed neck.
She sank through her knees, crouching low by the floor. Zuko flew over her. His kick connected with the wall. A fist of blue fire was aimed at his back.
He spun around, dispelling Azula's flame blast with one of his own: a palm strike from the elbow. Orange fire hit blue, and both evaporated. Blocking her attack filled him with a strange sense of pride. Zuko hardly remembered a time when he'd felt this way before. Like he actually succeeded at something he tried. The feeling was alien to him. He didn't feel like himself.
Before he could give his new skills much thought, Azula performed two front snap kicks in quick succession. When the heatwave hit him in the face, he realized there was no way he could block these. So he ran. Down the dark hallway, that ended in a plain wooden door. He tried it. Damn thing was locked. Zuko ran back a little, then kicked the door open. He squeezed his body through its shattered remains, considered the door frame, then lit the damn thing on fire.
Only then did he stop to consider his surroundings. He was on the roof of the palace, at night, standing on a narrow ledge above a one-hundred-and-twelve foot drop. At the end of this ledge, a small ladder led up to the roof's top. A pointy affair. Only the moonlight to guide him. Zuko gulped. The rooftop could be described as one long beam, that stretched out toward another wing of the palace.
Noises of some crashing behind him drew Zuko's attention, as Azula stepped through the smoldering mess of the roof hatch. With one hand raised, palm open, fingers pressed together, ready to strike. She wore a satisfied smile, and there was a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Zuko scowled. "So you're gonna fight me now Azula?"
His sister's lips curled even more into a catlike expression. "I thought we were playing a game of tag," she said lightly. "Just like old times. You act like you can firebend, then run away screaming when you can't land a single hit. Only this time, there's no one you can run crying to. Uncle won't pull your pathetic ass out of the water. Father isn't here. Mom, ..." Azula spread her arms as if looking for something she had dropped on the ledge. She looked over at the dormer, at the broken roof hatch. Then she shrugged helplessly, and pinned him with a mocking smile. "Well, you know the drill."
In a mad hot rage, Zuko lashed out and punched a huge rolling yellow fireball at his sister's head.
She jumped. He blinked, not having seen that one coming. His fireball connected with the roof dormer, utterly destroying it. Zuko scrambled to get to the ladder, before the ledge collapsed under the dormer's weight and plummeted to the ground.
His feet were on the lowest rung of the ladder when the ledge finally gave way and broke off from the roof, landing on the ground with a clattering bang. Zuko hastily climbed up the ladder. He heaved a sigh, throwing his upper body over the roof beam.
That's when he spotted Azula, poised in a cat foot stance on the roof beam. Her feet skillfully balanced, eyes sharp. Hands curled into one-finger-strike form.
Zuko grabbed onto the highest rung of the ladder. He flexed his arm muscles, tensed. Then gradually, he lifted his feet off the ladder. Using all his upper body strength, taking deep calming breaths, he balanced his entire body weight on his arms. Raising his feet higher, till they were level with his head. His stomach muscles tensed, he held stiff as a board.
"Wow," Azula mockingly drawled. "You should join the Circus. I'm sure Ty Lee will put in a good word for you."
Zuko growled, using his anger to launch himself into a spin. His arms flexed, hands shifted on the rung to support his center of gravity. As he shot a wave of flame from his feet.
Azula actually had to step back. Still in the cat foot stance, but with her arms now raised defensively rather than offensively.
Zuko saw this as his chance. He pushed off the ladder rung, launching himself into the air, then landed in back stance on the roof beam. The two siblings faced each other. Zuko found himself surprised by the intensity in Azula's gaze.
"Why don't you call your traitor friends?" he said, edging closer to her, his hands raised defensively to shield his body from an attack. "Or have the Dai Li turned their back on you?"
"Oh," Azula waved a hand, "traitors!" she said it like it was funny. Like he'd just told her some hilarious joke. "You and Uncle think too much in terms of Honor and Dignity. Those are strictly Fire Nation concepts. Earth Kingdom savages are not burdened by feelings of Shame and Dishonor. They wouldn't even know what those things mean."
Zuko narrowed his eyes. "You think you're so smart, don't you. Even the late Admiral Zhao respected Uncle. And you would do good to respect him too. He was once a great General. Him being retired doesn't take away from that."
"Uncle tried to wage a war with as few casualties as possible; and look where it got him. His own son killed by the Earth Kingdom savages whose lives he tried to spare. Imagine losing your own son because of your bleeding heart. Father would never do that."
Zuko snorted. "Because Father never cared."
Azula narrowed her eyes in a scowl. "Oh, is that how you're playing it now? Selective memory? Tell me Zuzu, wasn't it Father who read you bedtime stories, who brought you hot soup when you were sick with a fever? No? Forgotten already? What about the many times Mother and Father took us to Ember Island? The many times we played kuai ball together, as a family. Was it that easy to forget?"
Zuko stilled. He remembered. He was back there, seven years old, in late summer, a week away from his eighth birthday. The warm sea breeze of Ember Island, sunlight in his back, looking out over the water. Father's hand on his shoulder. Father's encouraging words after the ball game...
"You did well out there, Son. If you put as much effort into your firebending, I am certain you will grow to be a very powerful bender."
Zuko's lower lip quivered. Those had been the memories he so desperately clung to during his three year exile, his journey all over the world. If only, if only things had gone differently. Had he been a bad son? Had his firebending progressed too slowly? On some days he wondered what could have been had he tried a little bit harder, had he put more effort into learning how to fight. He could have done more; he knew now, looking back. He had been a pampered good-for-nothing Prince, a spoilt child. Zuko winced. It was hard facing the truth.
"Well, as I was saying," Azula blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Uncle failed to take Ba Sing Se because he lacked the creativity needed to turn situations to his advantage and the insight needed to understand a people so different from his own. You and him both. You're both treating the Earth Kingdom as if it were a second Fire Nation, when it is not. The Earth Kingdom is not united under a single rule like our great Nation. They are undeveloped savages following feudal lords. They have no understanding of technology or science. They rely on their bending for everything from transportation to agriculture."
"Is there a point to all this?" Zuko groaned. His sister's speeches were both aggravating in their length, and in the haughty condescension with which they were delivered.
Azula huffed. Then a triumphant smile grew on her lips. "There doesn't have to be a war in Ba Sing Se. Once the Fire Nation takes over, we will simply leave the city in the very capable hands of the Dai Li."
Zuko stared at his sister in horror. She grinned.
"The city will function just as any other Fire Nation colony," she said. "They will work for the greatness of our Nation, and we will trade them our superior technology. We will bring the light of civilization to this dark and empty desert depleted of know-how. They want this as much as we do. The Earth King is holding his own people back, not allowing society to progress. For centuries the people of Ba Sing Se have suffered under the oppressive rule of the Earth King and his armies. They want to be liberated. We will give that to them," she spread her arms, looking all the part the benevolent monarch.
"You're not getting rid of the Dai Li?"
She shrugged. "Of course the city can keep its cultural heritage. No one desires to break the structures that make this city function as a well oiled machine. For then it would be chaos. This is why I believe it is beneficial to keep the Dai Li in charge of this city. Who else knows better how to handle Earth Kingdom commoners than the earthbending savages themselves? At least the Dai Li seem intelligent enough to understand what's good for them." She studied her nails. "Once I eliminated their leader before their very eyes, they all fell in line."
"You did what?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I killed him," Azula clarified. Cool, collected, looking Zuko directly in the eye like she was telling him about the weather.
Zuko's legs wobbled. He clamped his feet tighter around the roof beam to keep from falling off.
"Why are you telling me this?" he said to his sister.
She puckered her lips thoughtfully. Her head tilted to one side as she gave him one long critical look. "You have changed Zuko. There's no denying that."
He raised an eyebrow at her.
Pushing her chin forward she tilted her head back, so she was looking down on him. "Back then, Father said you needed to learn respect."
Zuko held in a breath.
"That suffering would be your teacher."
Zuko braced himself for an attack. Ready to block or leap out of the way.
"I think you have suffered enough."
Wait, what? Zuko blinked at his sister in stilled surprise when no attack came. Azula offered him what might have passed for a friendly smile. It was certainly the friendliest smile he'd seen on her face in years... Reminded him of back when they were kids.
"Come on Zuzu, let's get off this roof," she rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly. "Your little tantrum has gone on long enough, don't you think. Father might not ever appoint you as Fire Lord, but we can work out a compromise. An arrangement you and I can both be happy with," she said, starting to walk down the slope of the roof, toward the hole where the roof dormer used to be.
Zuko frowned. He did not follow her. She's trying to manipulate you, went through his head.
She stopped mid-way, looking at him expectantly and tapping her foot on the roof tiles. Her smile was turning uneasy. Signs of distress appeared on her face: the tightening of facial muscles, particularly around her mouth and nose. A spasm close to her right eye, a facial tic.
"What sort of arrangement?" Zuko demanded.
His sister looked elsewhere for a moment. When she looked back at him, her eyes zeroed in on his chest.
"We can work out the details later," she said coldly. Then, eyes turning up to lock with his, "Come on Zuko, we don't have time for this."
"Oh we had plenty of time for your lengthy speeches," he grumbled, "but we don't have time for you to tell me exactly what it is you're offering?"
Azula blinked at him, eyebrows raised. "You want me to say it?"
"Yes!" he grabbed at nothing with his hands, beyond frustrated.
She looked shocked, and... a little bit ...was that embarrassed? Zuko wasn't getting any of this.
"Like," Azula looked scandalized. "Explicitly spell it out for you? I thought it was obvious. Even you would have caught on by now. You aren't that dumb."
Zuko gritted his teeth. "You expect me to work with you, when all you do is insult me at every turn!"
"You're making me say obscene things!" she responded with.
"You're not making any sense!"
"Fine," she huffed out an angry breath. "Suit yourself." Raising her arms in attack formation, she blasted him with a hot wave of blue fire.
Zuko ducked. He kept one foot on the roof beam, while hiding the rest of his body on the other side of the roof. Pain shot through his right leg as he dug his ankle into the beam to keep from slipping. Once the flames had passed over his head, he pushed himself up in a low crouched stance. His sister was gaining altitude, running up the roof. He still had the advantage, if only minimal. Using all his strength he swung his left leg over the beam, into the air.
He planted his right hand firmly on the beam for balance. And put all his hatred into the kick. White hot flame shot out from his foot. Zuko was almost frightened by the power of it.
He heard Azula grunt, and feared for the worst. The sound of her shoes scratching the roof tiles, too fast, sliding, slipping down, stopped the beat of his heart for a good second.
Then he saw her spear-hand slice through his white flames with a clean shot of sky blue. Zuko breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't here to hurt his sister, not really. This was never about that. He just wanted... he wanted... to prove himself. To show he could hold his own against Azula. That she was no better than him. That he could beat a firebending prodigy through hard work and persistent effort alone. That he could win. That he... that he wasn't some pathetic excuse of a pampered Prince. He wanted... wanted to show Dad, show the world, that he could be a very powerful bender if he put his mind to it.
Azula's face had contorted to an angry grimace. "Not bad Zuzu," she said, sounding pissed.
"Glad I did not disappoint," he threw back, shifting to a more stable stance on the roof beam.
She ran up faster this time, and made it to the beam. None of Zuko's yellow-flame closed-fist fire punches hit their target. He clicked his tongue, mad at himself. He had gotten too cocky, and now he paid the price for it. Azula took on the forward stance, and ran at him, circling her arms with wild blue flame.
Her hair wisps danced around her face, getting into her eyes.
Zuko waited. He waited till he could feel the heatwave hit his face. Then he bent through his knees, clenched his muscles and pushed off the beam, launching himself into the air.
He somersaulted over his sister, then landed on the beam behind her in a kneeling pose. He glanced over his shoulder.
She pivoted, facing him in cat foot stance. One of her hands pointed up to the dark sky, the other was directed at the beam. The sly smile made a comeback.
"You've taken lessons from that Air Monk," she said. "When did you get this evasive?" She spat the word out like it was the greatest insult she had ever thrown at him. Like a firebender was not supposed to evade.
He took it as a compliment. He rose to his feet, shifted into back stance. With his arms protecting his upper body, open hands. The edges of his hands sharp as blades, ready to strike. Giving her a sneaky smile of his own, he stretched his arm and beckoned her closer.
She huffed out a laugh. "This is going to be interesting." There was fire in her eyes, a determined gleam.
"Sure is," he said, pulling his hand back to his shoulder, then snapping it forward with a strike of yellowish white hot flame.
Azula dodged it by leaning to one side as she ran at him. This time she used her fire fists to propel herself forward. Zuko braced himself. He swung his left leg in a roundhouse kick, feeling the pain from where Mai's knife had struck. The wound Katara had not fully healed.
White yellow flames made Azula stop. Stop to block his attack. Zuko grinned; he had her on the defensive.
He followed his attack up by two side kicks in quick succession: a high side snap kick to put her off balance, and a side thrust kick at waist height to blow her away. Azula landed in a kneeling crouch, one hand blocking his flames.
Zuko stopped when he saw there were only inches between his sister and the end of the beam. One more push and she would fall off. It was a hundred-and-twelve foot drop. Zuko didn't want to take it that far. He took a step back, gave her some space. Allowed her to dust off her skirt, collect herself.
When Azula stood, she glared at him with intense hatred in her eyes. Zuko actually took a step back out of fear.
"What was that?" she demanded.
He swallowed, not knowing what to say. Not entirely certain what she was asking.
"You had me there," she pointed angrily at the short space of beam behind her. "You could have finished me off. And what? You just ...stopped attacking? Gave up? What was it, Zuko?"
He frowned, confused. His defensive arms lowering. "I'm not here to... finish you off." The words sounded revolting to his ears. They made his stomach roil.
Azula let out a sharp angry laugh. "Oh! Sure you aren't. What did you think Agni Kais were for? For fun?" She emphasized the word 'fun' with a bitter intensity.
"No, I... uhh..."
"Have you really thought about this? Have you thought this through Prince Zuko?"
Zuko shuddered at the mention of his old title, the one he had lost, the one he never deserved.
"You do realize that after this, win or lose, there's no way you're ever going to be welcomed back into our Nation as a Prince. You can forget about being Fire Lord. And you would have made a fine one too," she let her gaze trail over his body; and Zuko became all too aware that his gi was torn open, exposing his chest. Her eyes rested on his face again. "Do you really want to give it all up? For this? Your insane quest to prove yourself in the eyes of others. When you and I have both known that it was always me. Even back when we were kids. We both knew you never had it in you to be Fire Lord. You wouldn't make a good leader. You don't have the balls to make the tough decisions. Take the tough calls, the issues and problems a Fire Lady or Lord eats for breakfast. It was always going to be me. You were weaker and you knew it. My bending eclipsed yours even then. It was never a competition. I never saw you as my rival. You were always weak. So weak, Zuzu. And I would never pick a weak man for my rival."
He gulped, taking another step back as she took three steps forward.
"And now," she hissed at him. "Now that your bending has finally risen a tidbit above mire mediocrity, you refuse to strike me? You dare pity me? You're not coming at me with everything you've got?" she growled this time. "Is it because I'm a girl?"
"N-no!" he stammered out. "You're my sister, I..."
"And it's so very brotherly to challenge your sister to an Agni Kai? Huh? Right after she offers you a truce."
Zuko had no words. He lowered his hands, lowered his head, feeling suddenly very ashamed of himself. In an odd way, Azula's cold anger cooled him down, made him think over things, see things more rationally. What was he doing? Why were they on this damned roof in the first place? He was so confused. Azula had lured him here, he remembered. This wasn't the best place for a duel, far from it. And his sister, ...she hadn't attacked him yet, not with intent to hurt. Quite actually, Azula had attempted to talk him out of fighting. To defuse the situation. And he had not listened.
"You owe it to me to at least try," Azula's sharp voice cut through his cloudy thoughts.
He looked up, facing her.
"Fight me like a man, Prince Zuko." Her eyes were narrowed to slits. "When you lose, I promise to spare your life. My offer of an alliance is still on the table." She lifted then dropped one shoulder in a half shrug, her other arm poised to ward off an attack. "Who knows... If I like the way you spar tonight, I might even appoint you as my personal guard. I am considering it."
Zuko shook his head, sinking into forward stance, his arms protectively raised. "I'm not going back to the Fire Nation."
"You are."
"No!" he responded, voice growing louder with frustration. "I have a life here now, in the Earth Kingdom. I have nothing to go back to. Nobody is waiting for me in the Fire Nation."
Azula snorted. "What did you do Zuzu? Got yourself a girl? Here in Ba Sing Se," she gestured around, at the cornucopia of houses built into every crevice of the city walls, on each free surface; the anthill. "I bet you had to lie to get her to go out with you. D'you think she'd even want you when she finds out who you are?"
Zuko shook with barely contained rage. "You don't know a thing about her!"
Or at least he hoped she didn't.
His sister's eyebrows went up in mild surprise. "She's got to be real pretty for you to get so heated over her. A fetching thing," Azula pouted playfully. Then she winked. "Prettier than me?"
"Jin is pretty on the inside, unlike you," he spat the words out, cruelly and hatefully.
But his words had the opposite effect from the one he'd intended. Azula threw her head back and laughed. Laughed heartily at him, genuine tears of laughter appearing at the corners of her eyes. She spoke her next words in a light, unaffected voice.
"Are those the words Uncle used on you to make you feel better?" she giggled, voice dropping theatrically low, to sound like a cruel parody of their uncle. "Prince Zuko, my nephew, don't worry my boy. Half of your face might of been burned off," here she raised a shaky finger to the sky, and swaggered a little on her feet, a poor impersonation of Uncle's mannerisms.
Zuko felt his blood boil.
His sister batted her eyelashes at him innocently, saying in a mockery of Uncle's voice: "But you're still pretty on the inside."
With a roar Zuko launched himself at his sister, shooting white hot flame from his fists. The flames turned a pale blue close to his knuckles.
Azula roundhouse kicked his hands away, burning his arms.
With a wheeze Zuko pulled back, cradling his hands to his chest.
"Not bad," Azula clicked her tongue, face neutral as she nodded calmly. "I knew you had it in you to bend blue fire."
Zuko forced his eyes open in spite of the searing pain in his arms. He put all his hatred into the glare he sent his sister. How could she be so calm at a time like this? Did she truly feel nothing at all? Was her anger all for show? An act? Her shouting at him earlier? Just a piece of theatre to manipulate him with? He certainly fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.
"I knew you could, but still. It's a miracle you can firebend at all. In fact you were lucky to be born."
Zuko grit his teeth. Azula just kept on talking. Like she hadn't noticed the deepening scowl on her brother's face, or didn't care.
"The Spirits really smiled on you, Brother. Father says there was a high chance you wouldn't live longer than the week. There were no visible deformities," she shrugged. "But no one could ascertain the damage to your mind."
"Shut up!" He flung himself at her, leading with his shoulder.
His sister stepped out of the way, deftly dodging him. Zuko stopped in his tracks when he was three feet away from the edge. Now their positions on the roof beam had reversed. He glanced over his shoulder. Azula smirked at him. Zuko whirled around to block a flying front snap kick of blue fire.
He winced. His arms ached. The burns were red hot and angry, running all around his wrists and a little up his arms, to his elbows. Using his arms again to block Azula's flying kick hurt more than he could describe in words. He howled out in pain when it was over, clutching his left wrist. Rubbing it, sending soothing warmth into his tendons underneath the burned skin.
Azula shook her head sadly. "Father shouldn't have had that much soju to drink on Korochun Day seventeen years ago. He still regrets it."
"What?"
She sent him a pitying look. "Father was flat out drunk on the night you were conceived."
Zuko let go of his wrist, both arms dropping to his sides. He gaped at her.
"Who knows Zuzu," Azula shrugged again, tilting her head while looking him over languidly. "You might have been taller if Father laid off the bottle."
Anger roiled in his stomach. "I am tall!" he yelled without thinking, fists clenching at his sides, barely aware of his pain in the heat of the moment. "I'm still growing!"
"Ouch," his sister said humorously. "Sorry," she uttered without sounding the tiniest bit sorry. "Didn't realize your height was such a touchy subject. Again, I am so sorry Prince Zuko. If it's any consolation, at least you're a teensy bit taller than our esteemed darling Uncle Iroh."
No. Zuko grimaced as his face tightened in anger. No, no, no, no, no! He could not let her get to him. She was doing this on purpose. Saying all these things. Just to rile him up, to distract him. Zuko shook his head. He refused to listen to a word his sister said. He blocked out her voice. Azula's words dripping in poison, filled with lies.
He couldn't believe them. Shouldn't trust a word that came out of that mouth.
Pushing past the pain in his stinging arms, he righted his stance. Knees sinking, feet clawing around the roof beam. Arms raised to protect his mid-section, protect his face. She could burn his arms all she wanted. Zuko would not let his sister leave a mark on his face.
Having noticed her words had no effect on him, Azula attacked. Sending wash of blue flame after blue flame. Zuko defended as well as he could. Throwing up flame barriers. His fire burned a hot yellow. Once, twice a halo of white appeared in his flames. The lick of pale blue fire did not make a comeback.
He was doing all he could, all he had trained to do. But still she kept pushing and Zuko kept being pushed closer to the roof's edge. He sank through his knees, put most of his weight into his front leg, shifting into front stance, hoping to stop from sliding backwards. Yet another kick from Azula forced him to retreat, right arm raised defensively. He was just one foot away from where the rooftop ended.
"Last chance," Azula spat. "Unlike Grandfather, I am a reasonable ruler. I can be persuaded to change my mind. Show my wayward brother some kindness. But even that has its limits."
"What are you even talking about?" he yelled at her, thrusting his left arm forward with a yellow flame spear-hand.
She dispelled his fire with a circular motion of her right arm. An easy block. One technique from the basic set. He scowled, angry at himself for having been blocked that easy.
"I see you haven't been paying attention," she said in a cold voice. "I give you one last chance Brother. Join me in fighting the Avatar. Ba Sing Se will be ours. It already is. Getting the papers signed is just a formality."
He choked on a breath.
"Father told you not to come home without the Avatar. Well, what if the Avatar were to... die?"
Zuko shook his head. "Killing the Avatar will accomplish nothing. He will simply be reborn to a family in the Water Tribes," he said bitterly. "And seeing as all the men are gone from the South Pole, it's going to be the Northern Water Tribe. You know, the one Zhao's whole fleet could not invade?" He shook his head. "It's why Zhao wanted to keep the Avatar locked up for the rest of his life, when he captured him."
At this his sister simply smiled. Zuko frowned at her.
"What?" he said, feeling frustrated. "The Avatar will simply reincarnate if you kill him. And yeah, maybe that will delay their uprising for a while, until the Avatar grows old enough to learn all forms of bending. But some day you'll have a whole new Avatar to deal with, one you know nothing about. The Northern Water Tribe is not going to give up. I've seen them fight. They're terrifying."
Azula pursed her lip in distaste. "Perhaps you and your Admiral Zhao were frightened by the Northern Water Tribe. I am not."
"He's not 'my Admiral Zhao'! I hated that man. He tried to have me killed!"
"Fine, whatever." Azula twirled her hand in the air. "Regardless of your 'feelings', I have it on good authority that the Avatar can be killed. Permanently."
Zuko frowned. Abhorrence and curiosity spiralled within his heart at a maddening pace.
"How?" he finally made himself say, dreading the answer.
Azula smirked with glee. Zuko gulped.
"I heard it from the Fire Sages themselves," she said, smiling brightly. "If he is killed in the Avatar State, the Avatar will cease to exist."
Oh no.
"So what we do is lure him in using our hostages: the Avatar seems particularly taken with that waterbender. Then goad him into entering the Avatar State, a form he has not truly mastered yet. You do that. You're good at doing that, pressuring people into fighting you. And then I jump him from behind. While you distract the Avatar with your circus act, I go in for the kill."
His heart nearly stopped at the malicious look in her eyes.
"But, but the Avatar..." he shut his mouth, not knowing how to put this.
"What about him?" she snapped in a tone that said speak up.
"We need him. Without the Avatar, without the human embodiment of our planet, there won't be any bending. If you take out the Avatar for good, none of us will ever firebend again. You want that? Life without bending?"
She threw her head back and laughed. "You don't actually believe that."
"It doesn't matter what I believe," Zuko shrugged. "These are the facts, whether we choose to believe them or not."
"Oh to Orko, Rho and Pel!" Azula rolled her eyes. "Has Uncle completely brainwashed you? You never believed in Spirits before. And that myth about the Avatar being the bridge between our world and the Spirit World is obviously hogwash. You listening to Earth Kingdom propaganda? They obviously spread all of those lies to stop us from winning the war. The Avatar is their superweapon. They will stop at nothing to use him to destroy us all."
Zuko sighed. He didn't know how to respond to any of that. In a way, his sister was right. And in a way, she wasn't. He felt conflicted over helping the Avatar. It seemed wrong, somehow. No matter how adamantly Katara had tried to sway him over to her side. With all things that happened, with what he'd seen Aang do in the Avatar State... the destructive nature of it was not lost on Zuko.
But at the same time...
"I'm sorry Azula. I can't help you kill the Avatar."
His sister tilted her head back, appraising him. "Oh come now, you're not that awful at firebending. You were even able to hold your own against me."
He blinked at her, not getting what she was saying. Until it hit him like a ton of bricks. Zuko stared, seeing his little sister in a whole new light... She thought he lacked the skill to do it, not the desire.
Zuko frowned, speaking more firmly this time. "Azula I am not helping you kill the Avatar. This world needs the Avatar, whether you like it or not. Our Nation needs the Avatar. Without him, our bending tradition would vanish. When Zhao killed the Moon Spirit, he ended waterbending. What do you think will happen when you end the Avatar cycle? All bending on earth will be lost. For good."
The Princess flexed her neck, looking like a hungry mongoose lizard.
"How very unfortunate that you feel that way," she stated, her voice sounding cold as ice.
Zuko instinctively took a step back. Then he remembered he'd been only one foot away from the edge. Now only inches were left between him and the spot where the roof abruptly ended, with no slope, no trees, no balconies, nothing to break his fall. Nothing to grab onto, just a clean one-hundred-and-twelve foot drop.
Azula smirked. Her eyes were stone cold. Zuko stared back at her. She wouldn't... no, she wouldn't!
But the thoughts rang hollow to his ears. Hopeful, naive, desperate.
She so totally would.
Azula always lies, Azula always lies, Azula always...
Her right hand pulled into one-finger-strike form, flexing at the wrist. Then Zuko watched her make the shape... round and precise and exactly like Uncle had shown him two months ago. Lightning.
Princess Azula raised her eyebrows, her lips drawn in a straight line. Cold detached efficiency; there was no emotion in her face, only calculation. She watched him breathe for a minute, the lightning crackling on her fingertip.
"Say hi to Mom for me," she said as she struck.
A Water Tribesman defended himself against two shorter men in Fire Navy uniforms. He held his spear out in front his body, as a shield against a double edged straight sword. The second Fire Navy soldier attacked him from behind, swinging at his back with a meteor hammer. The two weights connected by a metal chain were set on fire: two spinning metal balls, bathed in flame. Sokka's breath caught in his throat; he swallowed, hard. His throat was dry and his legs were not moving. His entire body was telling him to go back, make a run for it while he still could. Before they noticed him hiding in the shadows of a cracked boulder. It took all his strength to take one step forward.
Those weapons, the spinning metal spheres, the meteor hammer... looked exactly like... exactly like... Like a miniature version of Sozin's comet. Sokka shuddered. He made himself reach behind his left shoulder, grab his boomerang. He lay low, watched.
The Water Tribesman spun around and jabbed his spear at the man with the meteor hammer, hitting him in the thigh. This Fire Navy man recovered fast, throwing one of those meteors at the Tribesman's head. At the last second, the Tribesman dodged. Moving like the ocean, fluid and powerful. He turned and blocked another attack from the man with the jian straight sword.
The meteor hammer missed. Sokka narrowed his eyes at the man wielding this weapon. He studied his posture, the position of his arms and legs, his torso, center of gravity, the way he moved: big, bulky, confident steps, mostly along straight lines. No dodging, no circling, no weaving. Sokka observed the man in action, how he handled his weapon, the tiny tremors in his arms and upper body before striking: the 'tells'. From all this, Sokka concluded the man must not be an experienced fighter. Perhaps this was his first time on the battlefield, facing real opponents other than dummies or sparring partners who went easy on him. He was not disguising his movements. He did not do any feints. His next attack was hopelessly predictable.
The man's shoulders shook a little before his arm moved with the metal chain. Sokka measured the angle, calculated the trajectory. Then he tossed his boomerang.
"Not very fair, is it?" said Sokka, jumping into the fray and immediately drawing attention to himself. Good, this was good. His talk would be the perfect distraction. "You guys ganging up on him, two against one."
The swordsman growled, raising his jian and turning towards Sokka. His fellow Tribesman frowned, taking in Sokka's form while keeping a vigilant eye on their two opponents, his spear raised defensively. A flicker of recognition crossed the Tribesman's eyes. He must have recognized Sokka as their Chief's son, though they did not know each other by name.
Sokka smirked, growing more confident. If only he could keep these Fire Navy soldiers distracted a little while longer. "I'm here to level the playing field," he announced in simple Calderan, to make absolutely certain these monsters would understand.
The meteor wielder snarled and aimed one of those flaming orbs right at Sokka, ...just as planned. The Water Tribesman flung his spear at the man, grazing his side. And Sokka's boomerang flashed in the sky.
With a precisely timed jump Sokka launched himself at the swordsman, bashing the man's helmet with his knobkerrie. "That's for the Southern Water Tribe!" he yelled as his cudgel made impact with the swordsman's head.
At the very same moment Sokka's boomerang nicked the meteor wielder in the right elbow. That man howled and let go of the metal chain. The burning meteors flew through the air before plunging into the water and sinking down to the bottom of the sea. The Water Tribesman pulled a machete on the disarmed meteor wielder, who took on a firebending stance, arms defensively raised.
The swordsman staggered backwards, tripped over a jagged rock and fell on his back. Sokka landed on top of him, knees digging into the man's shoulder pads. The soldier was out cold. Sokka yanked down the skull mask. He paused. The sleeping face in front of him looked young. A little too young. Did this guy even shave? Sokka traced three fingers over the man's jaw. No stubble. He blinked. This was no man, this was a boy. But what was a boy doing on the battlefield?
Behind him, intense fighting was going on. Sokka glanced over his shoulder. He did a double take. The other Fire Navy soldier, the one who'd had the meteor hammer, that man was a firebender. Sokka gulped. No wonder his chain dart had been bathed in flame.
The Water Tribesman dodged and pivoted, avoiding fire blasts. Sokka stood; he had to help out somehow. His boomerang lay in the sand, ten feet away. Sokka frowned. Then he ran. Raising the kierie above his head, he swung it at the firebender's left side, aiming for that spot just below the man's armpit. A battle cry left Sokka's lips as his knobkerrie connected with the soldier's chain mail armor.
The soldier grunted, briefly immobilized.
At this moment the Water Tribesman stuck his machete in the soldier's right leg. The Fire Navy man gasped. Sokka shuddered, eyes turning wide. He watched his fellow Tribesman pull the knife out, then stab him again in the gut. The Fire Navy man cried out like a girl. Blood shot out of the wound like a geyser.
Sokka's grip on his cudgel weakened. He took a step back, another step away from the carnage. As his fellow Tribesman stabbed the firebender again and again, till the body was nothing more than a bleeding corpse.
Panting, the Water Tribesman stood, hovering over the soldier's dead body. He wiped his machete clean on the dead man's shoulder pads. Sheathed his weapon, let out a heavy sigh, reached over to pick up the fallen boomerang, then turned to Sokka.
"Thanks buddy," the guy said in a gruff manly voice. "If you hadn't shown up when you did, I would have been done for." A grim but friendly smile stained his face. He held out the boomerang for Sokka to take.
Sokka simply stared at him.
"What?" the Tribesman raised an eyebrow, nodding over toward the dead body. "We had to kill him. That man was a firebender," he said, kicking at the dead man's legs. "He would have killed us all."
In a daze Sokka took his boomerang, cradled it to his chest. With pained eyes he looked over at the other Fire Navy soldier who lay on the ground unconscious, still very much alive. Sokka glanced back to his fellow Tribesman.
"Are you going to do it?" the man said calmly.
Sokka pursed his lip. Reluctance and doubt swirled inside his mind; were they doing the right thing? This boy was not even a bender. And he was so young. No doubt he had been roped into this, been sent off to fight in the war. This kid was only following orders. Did he really... really deserve to die?
"Because if you aren't going to do it," the Tribesman approached the knocked out soldier, drawing his machete.
"No!" Sokka lurched forward, bodily placing himself between the fallen Fire Navy soldier and the man of his own Tribe. He spread his arms wide. "It's okay. I'll do it."
The Water Tribesman shrugged. "Good. But make it quick."
That was exactly what Sokka had in mind: a quick and painless death. This kid did not deserve to go through more pain and suffering. At least in death, his soul could finally be at peace. Maybe he would luck out and reincarnate into a nonbender of the Northern Water Tribe, or the youngest member of a wealthy family living within the walls of Ba Sing Se. Then he would never have to see the war again. Those two cities were the best protected places on earth, the most safe.
Sokka knelt down beside the boy's head. He would at least take off the helmet. He figured that was both practical, he could use a helmet, and the honorable thing to do. Look your enemy in the face when you bring them to the other world.
He undid the straps, took the helmet off. Set it down on the ground beside them. Only then did he make himself look at the boy he whose life he was about to end. For the best part of a minute Sokka stopped breathing. The boy's black hair was held back by pins, keeping his bangs out of his face. His hair was collected into a high braid instead of a topknot. A long black braid decorated with a golden ribbon. Sokka sat back in shock, wondering how he could have missed it. This boy was not a boy at all. It was a young woman.
"Cheap fucking bastards," the Water Tribesman grumbled. "They make their women fight for them."
Sokka shook his head, furious with himself and what he was about to do. What he had to do. He looked away from the Fire Navy woman's unconscious body. He stared out at the sea. Collected himself, then, in a calm tone he spoke:
"She's still a warrior. I have to do this. I have to end her life or she will end mine."
"What do you mean?" the Water Tribesman sounded alarmed.
Sokka tilted his head up, looked him dead in the eye. "This woman is a warrior. She will not hesitate to kill us both if she wakes up."
The Tribesman looked scandalized. "You can't mean!"
Sokka glared at him. "Weren't you the one telling me to kill her a moment earlier?"
"Yeah, but I didn't know..."
"How would you have known? Did you stop and check?" Sokka gestured at the corpse. "Before you stabbed that soldier to death? Maybe that is a woman."
The Tribesman's face went very pale.
"Besides," Sokka softened his voice. "It doesn't matter whether she's a woman or not. She attacked us. She's with the Fire Nation. I thought she was a lot younger than me, but she's not. She can't grow a beard cause she's a woman. Looking at her now, I'd say she's about twenty years old. She knows what she's doing. She came here to kill people, to bring pain and destruction to a peaceful part of the Earth Kingdom."
"But,"
"But what? Women can't be warriors?" Sokka raised an eyebrow. "How did she attack us then? She was going to kill you, before I showed up and saved your ass."
"Hey!"
"Don't 'Hey' me, it's the truth. You said it yourself. I can't hold back on her just cause she's a woman. That will get us both killed."
The Tribesman swallowed. He turned his eyes away. "Ok," he said, "ok. But do it with this."
Without looking in Sokka's direction, he handed him his machete.
Sokka took it. He undid the ties of the Fire Navy soldier's uniform, removed the breastplate.
"You know this is very cowardly of you," he said, pressing the blade into the cloth right below the soldier's left breast, where he could feel a heartbeat. "Making me do this," said Sokka as the Fire Navy soldier's uniform stained dark with blood. "What are you, thirty? Forty years old?" He looked his fellow Tribesman up and down. "What's your name anyway?"
The man sighed, sitting down on a rock next to Sokka.
"I'm twenty-five," he said.
Sokka groaned. "What, do I call you Twenty Five from now on?" He forced the knife deeper into the woman's chest, making her bleed out faster.
Another sigh. "It's Pui En. My name," the Tribesman shrugged, "is Pui En."
"Well Pui En, we're in this together. You can call me Sokka."
There was some hesitation in the Tribesman's voice as he tried Sokka's name on his tongue. "...Sokka, you're the Chief's son, right?"
"Yes," Sokka flashed him a look. "Can you tell me where he is? My dad..."
Pui En got up. "Come on, that's enough now." He nodded at the Fire Navy soldier. The soldier who was no longer breathing. "Let's get going. I don't know where the Chief is: we got separated early on in the fight, but there's men who need our help."
Sokka stilled, the machete shaking in his hands.
He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, grounding him. "It's okay. I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to make you do this. Here," the machete was gently taken from his shaky blood stained fingers, "wipe your hands clean."
A dark grey rag covered Sokka's hands. His eyes widened; tears pricked at the corners. He fisted his hands in the cloth, lips trembling.
"I... I killed her..." Sokka gasped, shocked at what his very own hands had done.
Pui En's hand rubbed soothing circles into his shoulder, then moved to pat him on the back. "That's part of being a Warrior. We're forced to see the ugly side of war, to confront it. You're a brave man, Sokka. You've made it this far. Not many men can say the same."
Sokka shut his eyes. He stood, turned away from the corpse, then opened his eyes facing the battlefield. Stone faced he stared into the smoke.
"I'm coming for you Dad."