I am in darkness. Incense and burning flowers are a mist over my thoughts. My consciousness has become a plane of stars, random bursts of color disappearing as quickly as they come. My hands are numb and my legs, placed in full lotus, seem bloodless. Meditation nowadays takes much fuss and hard work.

Memories swirl and meld together until they are indistinguishable. This is a scary feeling, but I must hold onto my sanity. The rushing of wind around my small body blows off my wig, revealing the bright blue arrow beneath. I am losing control. The candles have gone out, leaving me in darkness deeper than hell itself.

"Mother?"

I stiffen as the room lights with a panel of the evening sun. My mind is still elsewhere. It has been in a dark place for the last few hours, and just hearing Zuko's light voice drew me from the mire. I scramble for my wig and mush it on my head before turning around, shielding my eyes. Being in a dark room for that long has severely constricted my pupils. "Zuko, close the door, will you?"

He does, leaving us in darkness again. There is some reddish light emanating from the screened lamp in the corner of the room, but not enough to see the expression on Zuko's face. It does not matter. As soon as he closed that door, I immediately felt the cesspool of anxiety that Zuko carries like a rock on his chest. "Zuko," I say, concern weighing down my usually girlish tone, "What's wrong?"

"I do not want to see father." He is wearing a green robe, his hair pulled back. A small tendril of it hangs in his face. "I…I never want to see father."

"Oh, Zuko." Concern has disappeared, now only foreboding restricts my tongue, "We have been through this." I walk to him, my hands tucked into my sleeves. I surface one from the blue silk and push the tendril from his face, standing on my toes. "I cannot defend you, Zuko. No matter what I say, you have to spend time with your father. Besides, you are fourteen years old! As much as I hate to admit it—" my eyes sweep over my only surviving child. I feel as though I am bidding him goodbye. "—You will have to run things one day. That day is coming ever closer."

"That does not bother me." Zuko holds up his fingers. Flame pops into existence as he brings his hand down, lighting each of the seven candles that still smoke. "I am well ready for my place on the throne." He looks at me, and then stares at his feet, "I am too much of a failure for him. Every time I see him, he brings Mina and Commander Zhao along. " his eyes narrow, "He makes us do target practice. Minako is better than I am. Is he trying to disgrace me in front of her?"

My breath freezes in my throat. "No." I say with great difficulty. My heart is thrumming against my chest. "He is not trying to pit you up against each other. As much as I hate the idea of your future wife coming on visits with your father, it is his business whether he brings her or not." He sits next to me, full lotus. Closing his eyes, I can feel the steam rising off his hands.

"Why does Mina have to come? I will not humor my father's idea of a wife. I don't even like her." Zuko's brow furrows, the four candles in front of him flickering slightly. "I hate the girl."

I smile weakly, my eyes closed as well. "Why are you calling her Mina?"

The flames in front of Zuko suddenly extinguish themselves as though blown by a strong wind. I can feel the heat from his face seething into the air.