Chapter 2: Treason
There's a special kind of pain that comes with betrayal. Especially knowing that this was her second dance with it, though she supposed that it was she who initiated it. Still, that pain swelled and throbbed as the menacing face of her former friend bore down on her with utter contempt. She could swear that it was going to drown out any physical pain that Zirin planned on bringing her. But this was her own fault, wasn't it? She wasn't quite sure what had compelled her, what had driven her to turn on her own group for a family that loathed her in many ways and for many things.
Azula had entered their hideout to find it unusually vacant, save for her second-in-command. Presumably, she had sent the others away to confront Azula by herself – had she feared the others might choose to side with Azula? Or that they would attempt to put a stop to the violence she intended to unleash upon her? Whatever her reasoning might be, Zirin was alone… just as Azula was alone. She inhaled deeply and fixed her eyes on Zirin. The woman refused to stand down, so now they would stand off. Azula brought twin blazes of blue to her palms, eyes narrowing as she assessed her target.
Unfortunately, her target had a deep understanding of her weaknesses and of her strengths. Of course Azula was plenty aware of Zirin's shortcomings and high points as well. She thought of offering the woman one more chance to stand down. But it would be pointless. She knew Zirin. And she knew that Zirin wasn't the cease-and-desist type.
A stream of fire raced toward her at a blistering pace. Azula only barely managed to side-step and duck her head away. Even so, the heat licked at her skin and grazed her hair. She gritted her teeth as she prepared for her own strike.
But no sooner had she dodged the previous ball of fire, another came barreling toward her, searing the very air it cut through. Again, Azula had to whip her body around, constantly moving and twirling like a dancer on the stage of death, just to keep herself from being burned to ash. All around her, pillars, furniture, and tapestries were set ablaze, smoke filling the air as cinders flickered and died. She was fighting for her life. And her foe, fueled by rage, was utterly relentless.
"Just die already!" Zirin roared. Without missing a beat, she advanced toward Azula, keeping the former princess on the back-foot with a merciless volley of fire. There was once a time when Azula took pride in training Zirin, pushing her to be the formidable bender she became. Now…
Now, she would have to exploit any and every weakness Zirin had. Only one of them would be victorious in this fight. And because of this, she would push herself to her limits and fight to the very end. She had to. Otherwise, what would have been the point?
Skillfully dodging the onslaught of fire bullets, twisting and contorting her agile body this way and that, she planted her feet down in a strong offensive stance and blasted her enemy back with a giant azure fireball. This allowed her some time to gain some distance from her former ally, the woman who had once been so loyal to her after she had freed her from that dreadful asylum. She rounded a corner and prepared herself for another attack, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.
"Quit running away, you coward, you TRAITOR!" Zirin screeched.
Funny how Zirin was the one who had turned on her, and yet she was the one being called a traitor. She understood it though. She had misled her and the other women she had rescued from the asylum. She had used them for her own gain, to restore the glory of the Fire Nation… to save Zuko. Their goals were never fully aligned and she knew that, and now she was paying the price. She wiped her sweaty side bangs out of her eyes and crouched down. Lightning sparked at her fingertips.
She wasn't familiar only with the weaknesses of her foe, who had been her friend mere moments ago, she was familiar with the weaknesses of their hideout too, a once-regal building she had located and equipped for their use. Its proximity to the Fire Nation Capital made it a brilliant base from which to plot devious plans to sabotage the Fire Nation's leadership… instead, it had become a bastion of its defense, without her allies' awareness. That was what she paid the price for… and the wrath that overcame what little restraint Zirin had left would stop short of nothing but Azula's absolute destruction.
She had to stall her, at least. Knock her unconscious, perhaps. Kill her…? She didn't want to do that, not even now that Zirin had turned against her. It was difficult to genuinely want the death of someone you had grown to trust or cherish as a comrade in arms at any point in time, a lesson she had learned long before this moment… but perhaps she wouldn't need to struggle much with the emotional baggage from killing Zirin if her plan unfolded in the most devastating way it could.
Swaying her arms as quickly as she could, outstretching her index and middle fingers, Azula glanced at the crack on the ceiling she had recognized as a weakness in the structure as soon as they took refuge in the building. One blast, right there… just the one, and it would be enough. She'd protect the Fire Nation from Zirin and the rest… even if it came at the cost of her life, as well.
She outstretched her arm just as Zirin launched a new fireball of her own, aimed perfectly at Azula's elbow.
The lightning blast burst and shattered the once-solid ceiling… the flames burned into the fabric of Azula's clothes and bit into her skin before she could so much as flinch. The rumble of the shattering building seemed to be the last thing any of them would hear before an avalanche of debris collapsed atop them.
A whirlwind of flame, a cacophony of noise and destruction swirled around her. Azula pulled her arms in tight around her body, curling up in an involuntary reaction to the mayhem and havoc that consumed her every sense. Zirin vanished from her sight.
Pain.
Heat.
Pain.
Heat.
Pain.
Her entire world became those twin feelings. She was half covered in a pile of wood and plaster. She couldn't feel her legs. Her arms were littered with a dozen cuts of various sizes, lightly oozing blood. Azula forced herself to stand after pushing herself clear of the debris. She pulled herself to her feet. Her legs wobbled and her spine felt as if it was bruised beyond repair, but she still managed to walk. Limping heavily, Azula saw Zirin's prone form lying prostrate on the ground, nearly fully covered in dust and soot and wreckage. All around her the fire raged, engulfing the broken structure.
And it was closing in fast.
Fast and unrelenting. Merciless, vengeful, and cruel as a fire ought to be. Somehow it felt like an extension of Azula's own fury even if she hadn't been the one to bring it down upon them. The wonderful, mesmerizing, yet horrifying nature of fire was that it had no thoughts, no allies, no enemies. It consumed mindlessly without a guide to control it. And so it worked its way closer to Zirin.
She could have left her. She should have left her.
And yet when she looked upon the woman's vulnerable, unconscious body, upon the woman's upturned face, she saw a warm and cheerful smile. She saw an arm over her shoulder, a hand rubbing soothing circles upon her back as she raged into the night, spitting out nonsense about her mother and her destiny. She saw the woman who had taken her through so many of her darkest, most incoherent moments.
She should have left her. But she didn't.
She barely had the strength to pull her own body from the wreckage. And Agni was her back screeching for her to do anything but try to lift Zirin too. Her mind always had been sharper, stronger than her body. A dangerous thing, so she was told. A dangerous thing when her mind set goals so ambitious that her body struggled to keep up with them.
Her wobbly legs could barely hold her weight and yet there she was adding Zirin's to it. She had come to find long ago that adrenaline was a mighty tool, and it was the only thing that she had left to work with at this point. It propelled her just out of the fire's reach. Ideally she would have dragged her farther but her body could take no more. She collapsed to the ground, sending Zirin rolling several feet from her.
Her breathing was heavy, labored.
She wasn't sure how the hell she was going to lug herself home. The first step would have to be leaving Zirin where she lay. Ideally she'd bring her to the palace for a swift and clean arrest. Ideally she could use Zirin's capture as an olive branch, as her last hope for amnesty. This wasn't the ideal situation.
Azula forced herself to her feet, staggering some when she found that her legs were still weak. She didn't want to go back to the palace without any tangible leverage, but she was fresh out of options.