Most need not travel to the edge of the world to find their life-long Companions, but my niece was never one to do things by half measures! In her time among the Water Tribe, the princess learned much of their ways, to find her home on the frozen tundra and the blue waters. But the Southern Water Tribe had been made a desert by the war, and soon our heroine would have to depart, to seek the Fire Nation deserter Jeong Jeong on the first leg of the journey to the North Pole.
The tundra glittered in the early morning sun. The hard snow crunched beneath Azula's boots as she trod behind Katara. Bits of hardy vegetation erupted from the crusted snow, wreathed in rime ice. This land which had seemed so barren continued to surprise Azula.
She remembered her uncle telling her stories about joining reconnaissance expeditions to the Poles as a young man freshly gazetted to an officer's commission. The fur-lined parka, boots and mittens Katara had grumblingly given to her were fighting off the morning chill. But even with spring in full-swing the air bit at her exposed skin.
Iroh had spoken of long dark nights huddled together for warmth. Barely any fuel to be found for fires, jumping at every noise in the dark, lest it herald a man in wolf-paint come to let your hot blood freeze on the cold ground. Awaking the morning to find sentries had frozen to death in the night.
Azula had been here only a few days, and each day she'd learned so much about life in the Arctic. Where to find food, where to find fuel, how to track in the snow, how to avoid predators. In the Fire Nation they had looked upon these people as backwards barbarians, and watched as battalions sent on raids lost more men to the cold than to the enemy, with often little to show for it. It had taken decades for the Fire Navy's landing detachments to learn how to fight and forage here, and they still seldom drove more than three days inland. They had sorely underestimated the land and the people who lived there.
In some ways, Katara was the perfect hunting partner. She didn't fill the air with idle guff, she just quietly and studiously followed the signs of her prey, even when it had been buried under recent snow. The men on the great hunts on Ember Island drank too much and talked even more, and often forgot their young company as they talked about who at court was tipping who, who'd gambled too much on a losing game of sugoroku, or which esteemed old count had a bastard son. Katara, on the other hand, seldom explained what she was looking for unless Azula asked, and Azula wasn't going to stoop to that.
She just watched Katara's eyes as they darted across the well-worn game-trail. It had been nearly an hour of hiking into the hills south of the village when Katara stooped down on one knee and brushed aside some loose snow. Azula squatted beside her, planting the butt of her spear into the snow.
The scat was fresh and still smelled awful. It reminded Azula of the kind left by ruminant animals like the koala sheep that roamed some of her father's estates. "Yak?" said Azula.
"Most likely. And close. You can see that rutted up snow ahead; they've been grazing."
"Good."
Katara continued to lead on. They found a small herd of yak digging at vegetation beneath the thinning winter snows. They lay flat on the rocks at the crest of the hill, looking down into a low draw that sheltered the herd from the wind. There were only ten or twelve, a far cry from the great herds she'd read about in the great geographies by Roku or Kip Ling. "It's so small," Azula thought aloud.
"Your tribe killed them all."
Azula didn't flinch. Her father often spoke of the hard decisions that needed to be made in the Pacification Campaigns. He'd nod solemnly at the destruction and talk about how they'd offered another way to the barbarians. Forced our hand, very tragic, but they ultimately brought it on themselves. Azula was neither stupid nor naive. She knew how war was waged, and this one only differed from the previous in scale and length. But it was Katara's icy delivery of the accusation that had chilled her. Like she'd run out of tears to shed long ago.
"Not just the yaks of course. Burn the towns when you can't hold them. Cart off livestock to fill your holds, slaughter the rest. Hunt the whales so we can't, even though you leave the carcasses to rot, stripped only of their blubber for whatever inscrutable reason."
"I figured you were smarter than to expect an apology for something that began generations ago," Azula said, as icily as the frost on her breath. "Maybe I should expect an apology for when your great Chieftain Lanaq raided the Fire Islands during the War of Omashu Succession, and carted away my great-great-great aunt Suri to be his hostage and later bride?"
"I know you're missing a few 'greats' in there. Besides, I'm pretty sure the bride part was her idea, not Chief Lanaq."
"Everyone always says that in the official histories, Katara."
"Yeah but have you read her love poetry?"
Azula cocked an eyebrow.
"What, surprised we can read and write down here?"
"No, I'm just surprised you of all people would read love poetry."
"Touché." Katara hefted her spear and rose to her feet. "We go after that gray one, third from the right. It's an old mare, past the birthing age."
"Understood."
Katara wound a path closer to the herd, staying downwind of the herd. They approached slowly, making use of the scraggly snowgrasses to provide concealment. The air was electric with danger. Katara had bows in her hut; hunting with spears was a test of bravery more than anything, a means by which young warriors could bond in the heat of real danger. It was why the traditional hunts of hedge-boars in the Fire Nation eschewed the use of Firebending.
Azula pulled her mittens off and gripped the wooden shaft with white knuckles. The blued-steel blade gleamed in the sun. Katara nodded and held up three fingers on her ungloved hand. She counted them down.
After she balled up her fist, Katara bolted towards their quarry. Azula followed after, spear set for a charge. They covered the frozen ground in a pell mell sprint quicker than the herd could react. Katara's spear lanced deep into the yak, just behind its shoulder. Red rivulets ran down its brown coat. The animal bellowed as it turned to gore here, but Katara set the butt of the separ into the hard packed snow. The shaft bent against the straining animal but would not break with Katara steadying it.
Azula swiped at the animal's ankles, drawing a deep cut across the tendons. Shuddering, the rear of the animal dropped to the ground. Its bellows quieted when Azula drove the point of the spear between the old cow's ribs, and soon the froth collecting at the animal's mouth turned pink.
A young bull looked ready to charge at them, but skittered when Azula sent a few bolts of flame its way. The bursting fire scattered the herd, sending them running away. Azula allowed herself a grin at a job well done.
The old cow was still struggling with the last of its strength. Katara shed her parka and approached the stricken animal's head. It was on its knees now, struggling to breath. Katara drew a bone knife from her belt and placed a comforting hand on the cow's head. She sang words from a language Azula could not recognize, then cut the animal's throat. Its suffering was at last at an end.
Azula collected and cleaned their spears while Katara started to field dress the yak. The sun was high enough that the air wasn't so chilly, especially with the exertion, so both stripped down to their jackets. Reluctantly, Azula stripped off her leather vambraces.
Katara noticed the faded scars on Azula's arms but said nothing. It was rough, messy work dressing such a large animal. She had expected the princess to shy away from it, but Azula said nothing as she slit the carcass open from groin to its chest except, "What do you do with the offal?"
"Depends on how hungry we are." Wiping the sweat from her brow, Katara pointed up at the small pack of wolves waiting up on the ridge, "In good times such as this, we leave some of it as tribute to Brother Wolf, who shares these hunting grounds."
Azula nodded. "I don't mind liver, but most of the rest I don't care for."
The rest of their "hunting party" arrived soon. They were children too young to take part in the hunt proper, but learned to follow the tracks of the older hunters, towing sleds behind them. As the young ones gathered and oohed and ewed as Azula separated out the organs into piles on the snow, Katara started quartering the carcass.
The children waited expectantly until Azula cut off bits of the heart for them to chew on. Wide-eyed, Katara set down her knife. "How'd you know to do that?"
"I don't know, it just seemed like the thing to do."
"We give the young morsels of a prized animal's heart, that its Spirit will nourish them and give them the strength and courage of that animal. It's not a gift to be squandered."
Azula spent the rest of the hunt lost in thought, going through the motions of butchering and packing up the carcass. Katara's words had come with a strange déjà vu, like something deep in her had already know the meaning of the ritual, that her body had known before her conscious thought. It gave something to fill the idle drudgery of schlepping half a yak back.
Once they were safe behind the snow walls of the village, and the day's hunt packed away, Katara left Azula at her Gran-Gran's hut to attend to other labors. The princess wondered if the warrior girl had grown sick of her by now. These past few days she'd been following Katara around like a lost puppy as she muddled her way through life in the South Pole. Her blood was already boiling with wanderlust, to find this man she'd already been shipwrecked trying to find.
Kanna was decent company. In spite of her advanced age, she was spry and lively, and Azula wouldn't be surprised if the village matriarch lived another forty years. After fussing over whether Azula had been getting enough to eat, and doling out a hearty bowl of seal stew, Kanna kept her mind occupied with idle chit-chat about her favorite foods back home.
"Well, as for meals," Azula said, chewing on a morsel of turnip, "it's hard to go wrong with a plate of komodo chicken and rice."
"Aye, I've had it before, when I was very young. There were some villages in the Southern Earth Kingdom that we visited often, they had a taste for it." Kanna's eyes twinkled, "Oh lordy, the first bite I took I thought my tongue was on fire. Still amazes me how they can make something so sweet, savory and spicy all at once."
"I'm told it's an acquired taste. But I enjoy the heat. If I want a treat though, a bowl of ripe cherries."
"Never had one. What are they like?"
The old woman tucked into her stew. The hut smelled of sage and whale oil, and it was almost warm enough to be comfortable to Azula. "Well, they're little berries, usually the size of your thumb. Deep red color like the sunset, smooth skin. When they're ripe they're sweet, with a hint of tannic bitterness. They don't keep well, so we usually preserve them in syrup, or cook them down into a jam."
Kanna watched with a wry smile as Azula gushed about her home. Not just the food, but also the cool winds off the bay that took the sting out of a hot summer day, bringing with it the smell of spices from the busy city below. Azula surprised herself how quickly this sweet old woman had disarmed her. She hadn't needed to worry where her next meal would come from, or going to bed still hungry, since she'd come to this village.
"You must miss your home terribly," said Kanna. She sighed, chasing away a forlorn memory.\
Azula nodded. "I do. I do. But I will see it again some day. I will hold my head up high and walk proudly in the Caldera again."
"I can see why Katara has taken a shine to you."
"She sure has a funny way of showing it."
"My granddaughter had to grow up too soon, like you. It's left you both proud and prickly, like a hedge-boar."
"And dangerous. Hunting them in the sport of princes for a reason."
"But if you ever spend time with them not behind the point of a spear, you'll find they are very loyal companions."
Azula smiled despite herself. "You are very wise, Lady Kanna."
"Please, call me Gran-Gran."
Azula was out on the open seas again, carried by the breath of Vayu-Vata, the endless azure waves before her. It had taken ten days to prepare for their departure, including the time spent teaching Azula how to sail. It had been ten days of boredom and contemplation for the princess, interspersed with hard work.
Azula had to admit it was a tidy little ship. Whereas the large steamers she'd been on before had left her feeling at the mercy of the sea, being able to control the small sailboat had been strangely comforting. She'd learned how to tie knots, run up the sails, rig for the wind conditions, and a hundred other different things. It had seemed simple enough, but there was much to learn about how to be hauled along by the wind.
Having a third person helped divide up the duties more evenly. Once they'd departed polar waters, the seas turned rough, and she spent much of her time soaked by the salty spray. On the journey, she'd eaten things she'd never known were edible, like whale blubber attached to a rind of skin. Azula almost spit it out before Katara tsked, and mentioned it was the best way to keep from getting scurvy. So Azula chewed and swallowed the gummy, surprisingly sweet mess.
Aside from the culinary adventures, the journey to Kyoshi Island was mostly uneventful. They'd spotted the smoke trail of a Fire Navy frigate just beyond the horizon, but if they'd been spotted, the frigate seemed to think they were beneath it. Azula had still tensed at the sight, until Katara demonstrated her ability to whip up a fog with her Waterbending.
Just before they made landfall, lazily sailing into the cozy bay next to the main settlement on Kyoshi Island, Katara beckoned to Azula. Standing at the prow, feeling the warm winds in her hair, Azula dithered a moment then headed aft.
"Azula," said Katara, and instantly Azula' ears pricked up. It suddenly occurred to the princess that Katara had at some point stopped calling her 'Avatar'. Some of the tightness in her chest released, a deep anxiety she hadn't even realized was there.
"Yes?" Azula answered nonchalantly.
"You got this far due to discretion, right?"
"Oh please, I'm not going to go strutting about proclaiming my titles now. Relax."
Katara groaned. "Still being difficult, I see. I just wanted to know what cover we were using, something to keep our stories straight."
"I'd been going by Na-yeon since I took up sailing."
"Okay, good. Tell me about Na-yeon."
Azula sat down on the bench, absentmindedly taking the tiller from Katara. Their fingers brushed as Katara shook her head and reluctantly yielded. "Na-yeon is the spoiled only daughter of a rich noble from Ember Island–"
Katara laughed, "How inventive!"
Azula swatted away Katara's attempts to take the tiller back, not taking her eyes from the course. "The best lies begin with truth. I don't know enough about peasant life to pretend to be one. I do know plenty of airheaded rich boys and girls."
"Fair."
"Anyway, Na-yeon was betrothed by her father in an arranged marriage. But her heart belonged to another. Her love, a childhood friend named Mao, son to a lesser family and beneath consideration by father, ran off to join the Navy with his broken heart."
"Aww…"
A little smile curled on Azula's lips. "Na-yeon absconded with her father's prized komodo-rhino, and ran off to find her love." Her moment was broken by Katara's giggles. "What's so funny?."
"I think it's sweet and so very unlike you."
"I…borrowed the basic plot from an old epic poem, The Song of Duty. It's about an ancient Sun Warrior divided between duty to his country and his love, though I may have borrowed a bit from those dreadful melodramas Zuzu loves."
"Zuzu?"
"Ah…that's a childhood nickname for my brother, Zuko."
"I think it's cute."
"I call him it to mock him, so yeah, of course it's cute."
"So how does the poem end?"
"The Sun Warrior's duty to his country costs him everything. Though he becomes a prince by adoption, he is usurped by his adopted father's vizier, the kingdom he built crumbles, and his love dies in his arms after saving him from a poisoned arrow."
"Ah. Bummer."
"The Daevas reward him for his piety by reuniting him with his love in the Spirit World, and his son goes on to reclaim his birthright."
"Daevas?"
"What we call Great Spirits in the old tongue. Like Agni or your ocean Spirit La."
"Well, 'Na-yeon', we're going to have to play with your backstory a little bit to not arouse suspicion. And it's going to have to explain why someone with your skin and eye color is in Water Tribe garb, traveling with us."
"Not hard at all. Just played with the backstory a bit, and now my father was a Water Tribe merchant who married a Fire Nation woman, and now I've returned home recently to find him. No unnecessary romantic entanglement, I'm just journeying along with you. Simple."
Katara laughed, "You're going to have to fake enthusiasm for finding him, Azula."
"Oh that's the easy part. I've been faking enthusiasm with my family my entire life."
Ships didn't come as often as when Suki was a girl. So when a mast and sails crested the glittering horizon this afternoon, most of the bustle of the little town paused as eyes turned south to see who this visitor might be.
It was as good enough time as any for drills to end, Suki decided. After dismissing the band of warriors, Suki strode out to the veranda to watch the ship make its way in. She recognized the blue livery soon enough, and as the butterflies tickled in her belly, she wondered when she'd started getting anxious to see Sokka of all people.
Sure, he'd gotten to be a lot more agreeable once she'd taught him some humility. And he certainly did look cute in the uniform and makeup of the Kyoshi Warriors. But he was still a boy, Suki reminded herself. As she made her way to the docks, she guessed it was nice to have someone to talk to who wasn't her subordinate.
Suki blew a stray strand of hair out of her face, remembering the weight of responsibility on her. It had been over twenty years since Aang, the last Avatar, blew in on the sea winds to this village. Before she was born. Who knew who the next Avatar would be. A Water Tribesman? Or perhaps fate was cruel, and the young Avatar's life had been snuffed out before they'd even known who they were. Either way, Avatars had a knack for turning up at these shores. Suki liked to think that it was the watchful providence of Kyoshi herself that guided them to this safe haven.
Sokka's ship had docked by the time Suki had meandered her way down. Haggling over an armful of fresh fruit as gifts for the weary sailors had taken more time than she'd wanted. She was just about at the wharf when a silent hand grabbed her by the shoulder. Suki almost jumped out of her shoes as she reached for her metal fan.
But it was the old hermit Jeong Jeong behind her, and Suki relaxed. The white face-paint and red flame stripes could not conceal the alarm on his battle-scarred face.
"What is it?" asked Suki.
"I saw an omen in the flames this morning. I came to your village to find its meaning. Be on your guard, young Suki."
As Suki nodded, she noticed that it wasn't Katara or Sokka walking down the gangplank, but the unfamiliar face of a young woman. Her eyes were almost gold in the afternoon sun. Her black hair was pulled up in a top-knot held by a blue ribbon, save for two locks that framed her oval face.
Her skin was too light for the Water Tribe, with an olive subtone that could have placed her anywhere. She wore a dark blue linen vest that was double-breasted and secured tight to her body, with the collar reaching almost to her jawline. On her arms she wore dyed leather vambraces that reached mid-bicep. Her coat was tied around her waist like a skirt. Loose-fitting black pants bloused into her tabi.
Suki was going to ask aloud "I wonder who she is", but was cut off by a rising sensation of heat, like a midsummer day, that made her hair stand on end. It was emanating from Jeong-Jeong. A split second later, a bolt of fire blazed through the air towards the stranger.
The woman batted the flames aside and leapt from the gangplank. Searing blue fire danced from the stranger's finger tips. Suki dodged right, spilling her basket of pomegranates and dried dates. Suki lay in the dirt for an uneasy moment. Every cord of muscle in her body demanded she get up and fight. But the fear froze her.
Even from here the heat of battle scorched the air, like the inside of a baker's oven. Jeong Jeong, the great Fire Nation deserter, was one of the greatest living Firebenders, and he'd been an invaluable ally these past years. But this woman was going toe-to-toe with him. And as they traded blasts of fire with deadly poise and precision, not a single strike out of place, Suki realized she had a ways to go before she was ready to fight Firebenders head on.
But ready or not, this was her duty. Suki rose on unsteady feet, clad in her armor of faith. In between the parry-riposte of the two Firebenders, Suki lunged in, fan gleaming like a razor in the sun. Her blade was inches away from slicing with each stroke. This woman wasn't just a powerful bender, but also an incredibly poised and flexible fighter. But while she was dodging, she couldn't blast fire.
"Oh two assassins then?" the Firebender said, like a cat playing with a mouse. "It won't be enough."
Sokka and Katara came running over, shouting. But Suki couldn't hear it over the roar of the burning shop fronts. Heart pounding in her ears, Suki pressed the attack as Jeong Jeong divided his attention between controlling the blaze and continuing to keep the woman off balance.
It became harder to ignore Sokka's shouts once her fan was clanging off his boomerang, his body interposed between Suki and her quarry. "Suki, that's enough!"
The woman wasted no time. With a feral grin, blue fire gathered at her fingertips. Thanks to that oaf, their turtle-duck was cooked now. But Katara stepped in the way, and slapped the woman hard across the cheek. "What the hell are you doing?" Katara cried.
Jeong Jeong turned from the cooling embers of the cabbage merchant's shop. He had not left his fighting stance. "Get out the way, child," he ordered.
Katara didn't flinch. "Stand down, we are not your enemy."
"You must be Katara of the Water Tribe," Jeong Jeong said, "Suki speaks fondly of you. I know you are not my enemy. But the girl you travel with is not who she seems."
Suki supposed it was possible that the Firebender she'd been fighting might have been a year or two younger than her. Jeong-Jeong definitely recognized her, and Suki knew Jeong Jeong was never one to condescend. Fire Nation infiltrator or not, she wasn't hostile to Sokka or Katara. She even seemed guilty after Katara's rebuke.
She hadn't lost any of her barbed tongue though. The girl glared at Sokka, and did a pretty good impression of his goofy, laid back voice and demeanor. "Oh trust me, you'll love Suki, you two will get along great. Like two sea prunes in a pod!" Her voice returned to what was, as far as Suki could tell, her usually haughty deadpan. "That's what you sound like, cretin."
Sokka sighed, "We just need to all calm down. We're just a little tightly wound right now. I'm sure once you get to know her, Suki, you'll like Na-Yeon just fine."
Katara rolled her eyes. "Any clue who he is, or why he'd recognize you?"
The woman looked at Jeong Jeong again. "None."
Jeong Jeong's focus did not waver. "They unpersoned me when I deserted, but I would have thought that Princess Azula of all people would know of the traitor Admiral Jeong Jeong."
Azula did what Suki least expected. She laughed. It was an uncomfortable laugh, like it came from someone who somehow didn't have enough laughter practice. "Oh this is too rich. I spend all this time working out a backstory with Katara, only to run into one person who recognizes me instantly, and it's the man I'm trying to find."
"So you've come for my head then," Jeong Jeong said, lowering his stance.
"Why would a royal princess be sent as an assassin, imbecile. We're both on the run from the Fire Nation, Jeong Jeong."
Somewhere along the way, Suki had lost the thread. "Okay, I'm missing out on what I feel like is some crucial context." She turned to Sokka, "You're traveling with a princess of the Fire Nation. And you knew." It felt like betrayal when she said it out loud.
"She's not a princess anymore, Suki." Sokka took a deep breath. "She's the Avatar."
Jeong Jeong had not acknowledged her for three days. Even as an outcast, Azula could not accept this sleight. And the harder she tried to make him acknowledge her, the more it stung, and the more hysterical attempts became. But he just regarded her as a hole in the air, unseen and unheard.
By sundown on the third day, Azula sat on the veranda, knees tucked tight to her chest, and silently seethed. She'd come this far only to be stonewalled by a stuck-up old goat, who attacked her without provocation!
"You know, you're going about this the wrong way."
Azula turned to see Suki standing in the doorway. With the makeup and uniform doffed, there was nothing to hide the smug, unfriendly grin.
"Who asked you?"
"Just a little friendly advice."
"Well you've given it, now go away."
"My porch, my rules, princess."
Azula rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't you be playing kissy face with Sokka?"
"Well I could see why you'd think that, having only known the guy for, what, a week and a half. But we're too much alike for that to work. Especially our taste in women."
Azula shifted, crossing her legs. "You're trying to bait me. It won't work."
"Sounds like it already has." Suki sat down a yard away from Azuka, dangling her legs over the edge. "Surely even a Fire Nation princess would know that things haven't always been the way of Sozin. Are you really surprised that the leader of Kyoshi's sworn sisterhood might take after her in that way?"
Azula gave a thin smile. "No, I just can't believe that someone would admit to having Sokka's terrible taste."
"Okay, fair," Suki giggled.
"I had his number when I first met him. He talks a big game, but he's the kind of man who lays his coat in a puddle for a fair maiden to walk all over him, then gets shattered when she's not smitten with love at first sight like him."
"I see you're familiar with the type."
They sat in uneasy silence, watching the sun stain the clouds red as it dipped below the horizon. It was broken with the equally uneasy admission by Azula that: "I don't want to be the Avatar. I just want to go back to living in ignorant bliss about how little my father really thought of me, a nice pampered princess safe in the Caldera."
Suki said nothing. She only turned towards Azula to listen better.
"I've come half-way around the world," Azula said, tears of frustration glinting in her eyes, "and I am still lost. And now I'm just dumping it all on you, but it's not like I know Katara or Sokka much better!."
Kyoshi's statue shone in the setting sun, towering over the village square. Suki shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. There has to be a reason for it all. Maybe it's because these troubled times began with the death of the last Fire Nation Avatar, they'll end with the life of a new Fire Nation Avatar."
"So it has to be me because I was born at the wrong place at the wrong time?"
Suki glared back at Azula. "Last fall, while I was out on patrol with some of the other Kyoshi Warriors, we found a cabin outside one of the abandoned villages on the island. Inside we found the bodies of a mother and child…she wasn't much older than I'd been, and the baby couldn't have been older than two." Gritting her teeth, Suki continued, saying each word delicately. "The mother had died about a week before. The infant…lingered near its mother's body, til it perished too. Had we left when planned, had we marched a bit faster–whatever, it's no use dwelling on roads not taken."
Aula wanted to say something in her defense, but she was starting to see the foolishness in that.
"None of us choose to be born, Azula. I'd say compared to that child, you're doing alright, princess."
Azula thought silently of the other children who were butchered for the Avatar Cycle to spin all the way around to her. The last confirmed Avatar had been the great Roku, over a hundred years before. There had been the tales of the False Avatar, from the years before her own birth, but her grandfather Azulon had issued an edict of Condemnation of Memory on that matter.
All records of him, or any other pretenders to the Avatar, were destroyed in the vast reaches of the Fire Nation's empire, and any public recollection of them condemned as treasonous.
"Suki, tell me something: they say in the Fire Nation that in the 112 years since the death of Roku, no Avatar has manifested, at least publicly. The last was presumed to have died with the destruction of the Air Nomads before they could realize their power. This is the official history." Azula took a deep breath. "I also know that my country survives on fear, lies, and secrets."
Suki hated to admit it, but she was honestly shocked at the depths the Fire Nation would stoop to. "Well, all I know is that the Avatar came through this island not long before I was born. My mother told me stories about him, how he tamed the Unagi serpent, and how he protected the village from a mercenary company hoping to sack it when the Earth King would not pay them."
"And he could master all the elements?"
"Master is too strong a word. But he could certainly bend Air, Fire and Water quite well, though he struggled with Earth." Suki let out a little laugh, "Oh, my mom was smitten with him. She'd always tease my pa, and tell him if Aang's eyes weren't–"
Azula's blood ran cold. "Wait…Aang?"
"Yeah, that was his name. Do you recognize it?"
Azula's breath had quickened, short and shallow like a panting dog. The small hairs on her neck stood on end. No no, it can't be. They're just voices in my head, hallucinations only I can see. Her chest began to tighten. Light headed, she stumbled to her feet, and would have fallen off the veranda had Suki not caught her.
"Azula, you need to breathe!"
The panic was overwhelming, like walls closing in on her. The voices were back again. Taunting, menacing. I told you so. I told you we were real. It felt like she was dying, like the panic she felt submerged after the wreck of the Ryujo, lungs burning for air in the cold blue water.
There was another pair of arms around her. They held her tight in a warm embrace. Azula saw Katara's blue eyes gazing down at her. "Azula! I've got you," Katara said. It sounded like she was underwater.
It took several moments, but the all-consuming panic receded. Katara held her, gently stroking her hair and cheek, and spoke softly as she told Azula to breathe with her, cupping Azula's hand to her chest so the princess could feel the rise and fall of her chest.
When Azula's breathing had returned to almost normal, and the tears of panic turned to tears of relief and shame, Suki said, "Oh thank the Great Spirit, I thought she was having a heart attack!"
"It's a panic attack," Katara whispered, "and thankfully it only feels like you're dying. Impossible to tell what brings them on. We'll…we'll worry about that later."
Azula scowled, suddenly shrinking away from the kid-gloves treatment. "I'm not broken, you don't need to talk like I'm porcelain!"
"Azula, just shut up and listen for once!" Katara cried. After taking a deep breath, she continued calmly, "You just had an attack. We weren't patronizing you, I'm just glad you're okay, and I wouldn't want you to have to go through that again. I get them from time to time, it doesn't mean you're weak."
Azula softened her glare, but only slightly. After being helped to her feet, still feeling lightheaded, Azula noticed the scarred face of Jeong Jeong standing at the edge of the veranda. "And you! How long have you been watching?"
"Long enough," he said, "Azula: I will meet with you tonight at midnight, at the shrine to Kyoshi. Come alone."
Compared to the great Fire Temples and shrines devoted to Roku, the shrine on Kyoshi Island was quaint. The little pavilion perched atop a raised stone dais, flanked by two bonsai trees. Jeong Jeong sat on the cobblestones beside a low brazier, a little fire beginning to grow in the kindling in its brass bowl. Aside from the lantern Azula carried, the shrine was illuminated only by the burning kindling.
Azula approached. Standing with her hand on her hip, she said, "Well, I'm here."
Jeong Jeong shushed her and bid her to sit across the brazier from him. With a growl, Azula complied, sitting seiza with her butt resting on her heels. She watched as Jeong Jeong tended the small fire, feeding it progressively larger pieces of wood as it grew.
When the fire grew large enough to accept a quartered section of a log, Jeong Jeong said, "You are undisciplined."
Azula growled but otherwise held her tongue.
"It takes great effort to cultivate a fire from a single spark in char-cloth," Jeong Jeong continued, motioning to the flint and steel striker laying next to the brazier. "The fire grows only with the careful application of fuel and air. Too much of any, and it is snuffed out. But as it grows, it becomes more dangerous. The spring rains are late this year. An errant ember could set the whole forest ablaze."
His tone and cadence reminded Azula of the few times Iroh was ever stern with her. An unbidden feeling of longing followed. She smothered those feelings with scorn. "Every Firebender gets taught this when they're old enough to form fire in their hands! It's older than the Vedas, why are you treating me like a child?"
"Because you only mastered the technical application of Firebending. There's real greatness, real power in your abilities. But your form is mechanical and lifeless. And your application of it is undisciplined. You live as a candle, seeing the world and the people in it as nothing but tinder for your ambitions."
"You say that as though I should be ashamed!" Azula cried, jumping to her feet. "My blood is royal, descended from the Great Spirit Surya herself! The line of Fire Lords stretches back to time immemorial, and in that time the line of my fathers have raised the islands up from squabbling tribes of warlords to the greatest civilization ever. I was born to wear the Golden Diadem of Pavaka, ordained by the gods! And you, who scorned the bounty given to you by my fathers for service to them, now sit here, outcast and disgraced, wearing rags where you once wore the finest silks, and you dare to dictate to me how I am to be a princess of the Fire Nation?"
"Yes, I do dare. Now that you've gotten that off your chest, can we continue?"
"Don't patronize me."
"You're still young, so I don't begrudge you the folly of youth. But you're also the Avatar, and unfortunately you do not have the luxury of being a slow learner. So sit down."
It was not a request, and against every instinct in her body, Azula obeyed. She sat seiza while Jeong Jeong tended the fire. Now that the orange flames had grown, she could see the red flame face paint more clearly on Jeong Jeong's face. She finally recognized the pattern: the Painted Lady, a river Spirit of intermediate rank.
"As I was saying," Jeong Jeong said, clearing his throat, "you have mastered the basic skills of Firebending more than any in living memory."
"Basic!? More insults, old man?"
"It is not an insult, it's the highest compliment I can give you. Most Firebenders develop advanced forms and techniques without ever having the skill to master the fundamentals of ignition, the very word shares its etymology with the highest daeva of our pantheon. Tell me, Azula, what is the basic formula of fire?"
Azula growled loud enough that Jeong Jeong arched an eyebrow in response. "This is another child's lesson! Fire is the sustained result of the combination of fuel, oxidizer and heat, the products of which are heat which sustains the reaction, and combustion products like ash, smoke and dead air. The orange glow of the flame itself is a result of the heating of the air to incandescence, like the glowing of hot coals. Are you satisfied?"
"Continue."
Azula rolled her eyes, "If the fire is deficient in any of its three elemental parts, it results in incomplete combustion, and may even snuff out. With a Firebender, the heat comes from the Fire chakra, fueled by the manifestation of chi."
"Correct. The hottest of fires can only be sustained by complete combustion, and thus the balance of all the fundamentals of combustion."
"And why are we doing this?"
"Why do you think your fire is blue?"
"Do you want me to talk about blackbody radiation, or will you be satisfied with the basic principle that the color of light emitted by a flame is a function of temperature, and blue only comes with the highest possible temperatures and complete combustion?"
"That will be sufficient. So there's nothing special, you've just manifested enough heat to burn your chi completely. A complete mastery of the basics of firebending. Careful control and discipline. So tell me, Azula, why did you have to set fire to half a village to fight me with such discipline?"
"It's collateral damage. Though once you distracted yourself from your opponent by trying to put out the fires, I would have been a fool to not exploit–" Jeong Jeong cut her off by rapping her on the forehead with a folded fan. "-how dare you?"
"Easily," he said with a hint of smugness.
"You…you miserable little cretin!"
"Sounds like you're the one in misery right now."
"I suppose you think you're so clever–"
"Yes, I do. You've gotten so off balance that this lowborn, jumped up peasant would dare to speak to you frankly, I suppose I would be a fool not to exploit that."
"Oh for the love of…if this is all you're going to do, I'm leaving." Azula began to stand, but a single prod of his fan to her forehead fixed her in place. "What are you doing?" She continued to struggle, to no avail.
"Another simple principle: mechanical advantage. You cannot stand without leaning forward, lest you unbalance yourself."
"Unhand me, peasant. Before I…" Azula at last realized the snare she'd caught herself in. Swallowing the bitter tears of frustration, she ceased struggling.
"Well, well. You are a fast learner."
Azula watched the fire burn, head hanging low. The shame was so sudden and overpowering, she could not even offer another word in her defense. The scars burned again, like her skin was crawling with fire-ants. Right back into the mold of her father's perfect daughter, a chip off the old block. It had been complete vanity, and this old man very handily humiliated her at every turn, and she just dug herself deeper.
If I'm a princess, I'm the princess of nothing. She was living by the grace of others, who took her in when she was lost and alone. Katara, who had more reason to hate Azula than any, took her in, shared her food, gave her a warm hearth and blankets on those cold polar nights. All the while this pampered fool still couldn't fathom what it truly meant to lose a family member that loved and cherished her, because she'd never had any. Or maybe that was the shape of the hole in Azula's heart. It'd been there so long she'd never known anything but that emptiness. Katara, who must have been feeling the same emptiness since the day the Southern Raiders took her mother from her.
The awareness filled Azula with guilt so heavy, it was like iron manacles weighing her down. Kya had not been a random casualty of war. Kya had been murdered in a purge of Waterbenders that had been ordered by Azula's grandfather and namesake. And still Katara took her in!
Azula watched the coals forming in the brazier, the pale white ash collecting in the basin. Same as her riches, her throne, her birthright. Reduced to cinders, blowing away in the wind. For the first time in her life, Azula felt envy for another person. Katara had a family and friends that loved her, a people that respected and valued her. When it came to things that actually made life worth living, Katara was a princess, and Azula a pauper.
"I'm…I'm sorry," Azula squeaked out.
Jeong Jeong's glare softened. "I know I've been hard on you, perhaps too hard, especially at first. But I had to be if you were to have any chance to survive the challenge that lay ahead of you. More than any Avatar before you, the weight of the world is on your shoulders."
"What if I refuse?"
"Oh?"
"I never wanted to be the Avatar. And if it's my destiny, then that doesn't mean anything! How many destined Avatars have been strangled in their cradle for me to inherit it? At least three! Probably more. 112 years is a long time, Jeong Jeong, and destiny didn't protect them. This is just a gigantic cosmic joke, an Avatar born into the royal house that's been hunting them for sport since before any of us were born."
Jeong Jeong's laugh was deeply unsettling.
"What the hell?" Azula said, face red with anger.
"Well that'll be the day, the great prodigy Azula turning away from a challenge."
"Wasn't this whole conversation about how worthless I really am? Make up your mind."
"This is about humility, not abjection. And unfortunately, that's all I can teach you. Your skill with Firebending is something you will have to develop on your own, as any master should."
"You said I only mastered the basics–"
"This is the highest compliment I could ever give to anyone. In the old times, mastery only ever meant a bender had achieved a total grasp of the fundamentals. Any further development would be on their own, their only 'rank' being a record of their deeds. You don't need to trouble yourself with the elaborate system of grades, orders, and medals of the Imperial Firebenders, or what their hierarchy thinks conveys mastery. You'll define your mastery by your deeds, Azula."
Azula was silent for a moment. It seemed like he was pitying her, but then she remembered that she was still sixteen, and the only deed to her name was a single battle that would be scrubbed from the official histories. Her future was still unwritten. "Then what am I to do? I only came searching for you because one of your former subordinates, Captain Li of the 8th Calderan, suggested I find you."
"You will have to be more specific, I've known too many Li's in my time."
Azula laughed, feeling some of the tension bleed away.
"As for where to go next, I have only guesses. As the Avatar, you are drawn to places your past lives had a great spiritual connection to. Kyoshi herself has thus far been silent, but perhaps you could find answers elsewhere."
Azula nodded.
"I can only guess at the circumstances that led to your reincarnation, but you mentioned the name Aang earlier."
Azula's heart skipped a beat, but the panic attack did not return.
"The information on him was suppressed, but he was indeed a true reincarnation of the Avatar, and he was captured by the Fire Nation a few years before your birth. More than that was above even my paygrade. But I do know he was born to the Southern Air Temple, perhaps a remnant population that escaped the purge. It's due west of here, in the Patola Archipelago. Suki will be able to lead you to it."
Jeong Jeong was about to bid her goodnight when Azula asked, "I was wondering, if you would indulge me, in the meaning of your face paint. The Kyoshi Warriors all wear markings reminiscent of Kyoshi herself. Yours resemble the Painted Lady back in our homeland, but that seems, well, odd to me."
"I suppose you deserve to know. The order that I and my brothers founded in our exile was devoted to the warrior-sage Rangi. We wear the face paint in her honor.
"Rangi? It's an uncommon name back home, but I've never heard of any important namesake of it."
"You wouldn't have. That knowledge was suppressed before either of us were born. Rangi was the name of Firebending master and later consort of the Avatar Kyoshi. She wore this marking when she traveled with Kyoshi, and we wear it now in her honor. It is a reminder to us of our devotion; that this war is evil, it must be opposed, and that the divisions between the nations, and between the Fire Nation and the Avatar are illusions."