Azula had only been nervous a handful of times. When father observed her training to see how far long she'd gotten, she would be nervous. When she and Zuko were much younger and had gotten into trouble all the time, mother would always look more dissapointed in her than Zuko.

She would be nervous. Even the first couple of times riding on Aang's flying beast was enough to make her nervous.

...But she hadn't actually seen Dragons before. Sure, Uncle had always told them they were native to the other side of the Fire Nation, but neither her nor Zuko had actually seen one personally. The only accounts they had were from paintings and Uncle's stories.

But seeing one up close was a totally different story. And a bit nerve wracking. The Red Dragon stood ahead of her and Aang, it's face fierce and intimidating. The way it's brow ridges rested over its eyes gave the impression it was snarling, and two of it's fangs were on display, jutting out from it's closed maw as if they needed reminding that it may be a carnovire. Its nostrils flared, and Azula could feel the heat brush past her as she squinted from the force of it.

But the rise and fall of its chest was calm as the creature studied them. Its reptilian eyes were piercing, like it could see through them.

Azula couldn't tell if it was angry; it certainly looked so.

"Woah..." Aang uttered from next to her. He didn't look so much nervous as impressed. Azula was thankful she was able to school her own features.

Both dragons lowered themselves, as if trying to get a good look at the group.

"I take it you're the masters," Azula said rhetorically. She resisted taking a step back when the massive reptile drew near, and made a sound similar to a huff, as if confirming it.

It stared at her and Aang for a moment before Azula gently elbowed Aang and performed a traditional Fire Nation bow at the waist. Aang mirrored her action.

The red dragon seemed to study them further before it suddenly lowered itself completely to the ground, it's head nearly resting on the stone surface. Even now, it looked at them expectantly, as if waiting for something. It huffed, it's warm breath blowing past them.

Did the dragon want them to draw nearer?

Azula was the first to take the initiative, shuffling towards the creature's snout.

"So, what are we supposed to now?" Aang asked, approaching the dragon after a pause.

The Sun Warriors' chief cleared his throat. reminding them that he was still present.

"Dragons are entities closely related to Fire and represent both the physical and spiritual in matters of the flame," he said from where he stood, an unreadable tone in his voice.

While the team still stood within the courtyard with Ran and Shaw, the chief and his warriors surrounded the perimeter, all watching with a strange sort of expectancy.

Zuko glanced at the Chief before returning his gaze to the blue dragon, Shaw, in front of him. It had lowered its head in the same manner that Ran did.

"Spiritual, huh?" Zuko asked rhetorically. He regarded Shaw before taking a deep breath. He bowed to the dragon.

"I'm ready to learn."

Shaw made a sound that resembled a snort and extended what looked like one of its whiskers.

Zuko was confused at the gesture but remained still as its whisker made contact with his forehead.

He blinked at the strange sensation.

And then he awoke.

Huh?

Zuko found that he was no longer in the courtyard with Azula and Aang and the dragons. He suddenly found himself under sheets of fabric. They were a dark red color and reminded him of home. Surrounding him were four walls and ahead of him was a simply crafted desk with a modest mirror.

He fought to untangle himself from the covers while calling out to his sister and friend.

"Azula? Aang?" he called out, managing to free himself from the sheets. He stood up and felt the cold flooring bring an odd sort of comfort to his feet. It also made him realize that he was barefoot.

He looked around again, noting the dim lighting in the room. The Fire Nation flag was draped on the wall to his right, across from the wooden doorway to his left.

Something felt...off, and his head felt...exposed...for lack of a better word. He reached out his hand to touch his head, starting at the strange feeling.

"...Where's my hair?" Zuko mumbled to himself. He rubbed the crown of his head, and his fingers bumped into a hairpiece that seemed to hold the only hair on his head. It felt like a loose topknot of some sort.

He sighed, stowing away the question of his sudden baldness to figure out later. Right now he needed to figure out where he was. And find some clothing. He felt underdressed and needed some protection. He approached the desk, some of the haze clearing from his perception. This was definitely the palace, he thought. He recognized some of the craftsmanship, particularly the style of the desk and the designs on its handles.

In the moment, he ignored the mirror, rummaging through the dresser to find something similar to the loose tunic he liked to wear.

He tried to retrace his steps. They were all confronted by the Sun Warriors, who agreed to teach them their way of firebending. They met the dragons, Ran and Shaw and then...

"Trying to figure out how I got here isn't getting me anywhere," Zuko sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He gazed up at the mirror, only to shout in surprise and quickly backpedal. In the excitement, he nearly tripped over the stool that stood in front of the desk and he tumbled. Picking himself off the ground, he could feel his hear hammering in his chest as if it was a foreign object threatening to escape. His forehead suddenly felt slick with sweat and he forced his breathing to slow down. Slowly, he righted the stool and sat down and took another look at the mirror.

It was him, of course. But he looked so different.

The scar tissue on the left side of his face stood out immediately. Tentatively, he glided his index and middle finger over the dried skin, memorizing how it contrasted with the rest of his unmarred flesh. It almost reminded him of a dragon scale...

Zuko closed his eyes, feeling how the skin around his left eye would tighten just the slightest bit. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth and opened his eyes.

...The scar was gone. He examined his face again, before turning away. He looked at the open doorway leading into his current room, wondering what lay beyond.

Was this some sort of illusion? He felt like he was experiencing some sort of fever dream, but he knew he wouldn't get answers until he stepped through the door.

So he did.

He swallowed, able to hear the sound of his own breath. He stepped through the hallway, raising his arms in a loose stance as he ambled through the hallway. There was no decent light in the hall, as all of the torches were unlit. Massive portraits of past Fire Lords hung from the ceiling, and they were situated so close to the wall, it almost seemed as if it was lasted onto it. They depicted the previous Lords, seeming to provide the only color within the otherwise dull reds and golds of the area. But one of the portraits in particular stood out to him.

It depicted his father wearing the royal mantle, robe, and crown, in the traditional pose of hands stretched to either side.

The pose was all wrong, Zuko reflected.

The portrait he remembered was with one arm out and the other behind his back. His father explained that it meant he was only holding the position of Fire Lord for a while, until Uncle was ready to again sit on the throne for good. This picture depicted both arms carrying a flame in either hand. Needless to sat, it was much more intimidating. He didn't have time, or rather, the patience to dwell on this though, and kept moving.

Finally, he reached what looked like the Palace's arena. A raised stage sat in the center, surrounded by empty space where the spectators would stand to witness an Agni Kai.

He blinked, and suddenly he was on the stage. He frowned, looking behind him. As if out of nowhere, the grounds was filled to capacity with soldiers and officials.

Loud mutterings and muted cheering filled his ears, and the volume was so loud, he wondered how all these people arrived unnoticed. Curiously, he spotted Uncle in the crowd quickly, and Azula stood next to him. Iroh looked uncertain, maybe even worried? Azula looked the complete opposite, a knowing smile on her face. It looked like all the times she's smiled before, except there was a strange kindnof maliciousness behind it.

"Azula!" Zuko shouted, cupping his hands to project his voice. "What's going on here?"

Azula didn't respond to him at all, almost as if she hadn't heard him.

He turned back to look at the other end of the arena. There was a wall of flame blocking his view, but it turned out that wouldn't matter.

His eyes widened, as his father stepped through.

Father always favored Azula over him, but the expression on his face was alien to Zuko. He'd never seen him this angry before.

"You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher."

Not understanding why, the words seemed to cut deep. Zuko raised his arms in a firebending stance.

Azula opened her eyes only to groan in pain. She pulled herself off of the ground, nursing an ache at the front of her head above her right temple.

"Ugh," she managed to grumble. "What did that dragon do to us?" She stood up on shaky legs, slowly shaking her head. The headache was beginning to clear and it was becoming easier to stand up straight.

Once her vision was back to normal, she glanced around, and the warm air that hit her arm was the first signal that she may have been indoors. Looking down, she could see red carpeting, and to he left along the wall was a vanity table. On the opposite end of the room was a large bed, a massive mattress with scarlet colored sheets covering it.

"My room back home," Azula said aloud, not completely understanding how it was possible. Weren't they all still on the Sun Warriors' little island? And where was Aang and Zuko?

The only reasonable explanation was that it was some sort of trick devised by the Sun Warriors, or the dragons, or both parties.

Everything was disturbingly quiet. There were no sounds of servants milling about or guards on their patrols.

"They couldn't do a normal firebending lesson, could they?" she asked, knowing there would be no answer.

She stepped closer to the vanity table, seeing nothing but a small wooden brush. She slowly picked it up, and recognized the engravings as the brush her mother used to use.

"What is this doing here?" She had the faint urge to throw it away from her, as if the object was cursed somehow. Odd.

And then the intense feeling of heat assaulted her and without another thought, she dived to the side, brush still in hand.

As she crashed to the ground, and pain jolted her elbows, she looked behind her to see that the vanity table along with most of the wall had been demolished, leaving a gaping hole where they used to he a moment ago.

Flames took their place, in various shades of red, orange, yellow, and strangely, blue.

She stood up as quickly as her body allowed. She quickly pocketed the brush in her sash and took a defensive posture.

In stepped through the hole a girl in Royal Armor. Her hair was different from Azula's in that the back was secured tightly in Ave as a topknot. But the familiar side bangs were there, and the lipstick made her look slightly older than herself.

She already knew the answer but had to ask anyway. "Who are you?"

The girl only half smiled in that familiar way, but it appeared much more devious coming from the stranger.

"I'm you, but better."

The strange look-alike raised her right hand, and with the flick of her wrist, called blue fire to her index and middle fingers. Without even a hint of a warning, she charged forward, thrusting her two fingers forward, and two darts of azure fire came racing toward her.