She used to mark the days on the wall. The days, the years, all spent in darkness. The longer it went on, the less she seemed to care. Besides, there wasn't enough wall left.
Hearing her back crack as she stretched, the withered woman cursed under her breath and moved to the other end of her cell. This was routine; waiting for food to be given, before retreating into the furthest corner to devour her meagre meal like she were a rat. A disgusting way to live. No, worse; it was pitiful.
"My time will come."
It was the mantra that kept her through the days soaked in sweat and sick. Slowly, she started to muster up that same old signature laugh, the one that used to make people tremble. In response, the guards outside struck the gate with their fists, cutting it short. With a squeak, she skittered away.
"Snake," one murmured.
She felt her shoulder shake as she stifled another laugh. Snakes were crafty. Beautiful, even. No matter how long they waited or how much skin had been shed, they always got their prey.
Much to her chagrin, she had little else to do other than listen to the idle chatter as the guards swapped shifts, passing on the responsibility to another unlucky soul. It was the same old drivel, one was going on paternity leave, another had started a long distance relationship with a Water Tribe belle, the usual. Back in the old days, some had even had the nerve to try to provoke her, but those that had were swiftly replaced. She was to be ignored. Forgotten.
But she did not fade away so easily.
She heard the ruffle of bars, and along with her food came the whisper. The sweetest of songs that her crooked ears had been dying to hear for the longest time
"Hail Fire Lord Azula."
Eagerly picked up the bowl, the dead eyes of a half cooked fish stared back at her. It was discarded, left to rot with the rest of her dignity. Looking closely at the rice, she saw a shimmer of red and pulled the object with all the care she could muster. It was like being handed a diamond ring.
Grinning wildly, she stood and adopted a pose long since dulled yet never discarded. Her rusty joints cracking back into place as she extended her fist out, embers starting to form around her knuckles. She had been out of practise for many a year, that kind of lapse would cripple a lesser firebender, but she was not lesser.
She was Azula
The embers extended out to the material clenched tightly in her palm, and soon all was caught in a glorious blaze. The guards barely had a moment to react before the once still prisoner was consumed in a veil of flame.
No, she would not fade away.
The explosion was small, but its impact was cataclysmic. The Boiling Rock was soon on high alert, and the sound of a thousand feet could be heard clambering their way through the corridors. When word spread of whose cell has been torched, panic began to set it.
As the fiery commotion continued to brew, Azula made her way along familiar corridors and cracked her neck in some much needed places. She was already eighty-eight, her body decrepit, but she knew that it would be enough. Adjusting her eyes to the false light of the prison's interior, she was encroached upon by the the cattle that were the approaching guards, gathering together in a half-baked defensive formation. She let her smile resonate.
There was fear in their eyes.
Without hesitation, she charged forward. On reflex, the guards' unleashed waves of fire from their fists. However, to their shock, the half-dead prisoner tossed herself over the flames with unsightly grace and landed right before them, like a spider baring its fangs. It was enough to break the guards' formation, and she took the chance to raise her leg, bringing it down with a trail of fire in its wake. Two poor souls felt the full brunt of it, as blue flames melted their armour and consumed their flesh. Not giving them a chance to rest, she began to let out a slew of familiar movements. Muscle memory did not fail her, and soon the blue fire consumed the entire corridor. Oh sure, they resisted, but ultimately they were saplings by comparison. The few that managed to outrun her reach were already fleeing for their lives, screaming for help.
It didn't take her long to find the designated escape route; something else that she had pieced together from decades of gathered whispers fed to her by what little influence she still retained. Kicking down the nearest barred widow with strength alone, she slid out and peered up at the dark skies above and let the cold breeze hit her body. Embracing the outside, she took a moment to savour the first taste of freedom, before looking back to see the entirety of the reconstructed Boiling Rock was clambering after her.
Sliding down the wall and weaving her way alone the outside of the complex, her information seemed to be on point. The bulk of the response had gathered to her prison room, expecting a limping old woman to be clawing her way to the outside, as opposed to the snake who had already slithered passed their grasp.
The landing pad was as vast as it was beautiful, especially given the blimp already docked. As the wind howled in her ears, she sent herself hurtling towards the ground. The steel floor melting under her feet with the impact. The spot of guards that had been posted nearby didn't know what to think as the figure coated in pale flames made her entrance. Though it didn't really matter in the end, given how they soon found themselves cut to fiery ribbons.
The crew didn't fare much better. With a new fire churning in her belly, she stormed her way onto the front deck, and in their confusion the gathered had no time to register the fact their faces had been turned to ashes, save for the dainty little thing that watched her co-workers lose their bodies to the old woman's wrath.
Azula's face, like that of a vengeful demon, filled her view, her haggard voice whispering into her ear with one instruction layered with obvious threat.
"Fly."
And just like that they were airborne, the pilot too concerned about if she was ever going to see her fiancé again to worry about taking the world's most dangerous criminal to who knows where. Walking through the charred remains of the crew, Azula casually sat down and started to hum to herself.
"See you soon, Zuzu."
Asami was pacing, more than usual. This was largely due to her not being in the best of headspaces. A strong sigh took over, and despite knowing she would regret it, snagged an emergency glass of brandy and inhaled its dark contents.
Their apartment was relatively small, at least when you considered her income. She spent all her time around vast factories and navigating commissions and investments on a massive scale, it paid to have something cosy to call her own, even is it was at the heart of Republic City.
Korra was coming back today. It was supposed to be yesterday, but it seemed that issues in the Fire Nation were more extensive that either one of them had realised.
In fact, everything these days felt extensive. Korra headed to Ba Sing Se to help the locals deal with a rowdy spirit or two; ended up sanctioning a wedding. Tries to take the quickest route back home; gets roped into hunting down a rogue militia, with time enough to become the guest of honour at a banquet in a neighbouring town. It never seemed to end.
Was that selfish of her? To want to spend more time with the person she adored? The goodwill of their second anniversary had yet to fade, but the distance of Korra's travels had started to weigh on her more and more. As the head of Future Industries, her schedule was the furthest thing from spacious, but she had the luxury of walking away when the moment called for it. Her beloved had no such luck.
Then again, having to spend an extra week away just to judge the annual Penguin-Sledding Competition between the Northern and Southern Water Poles...yeah, that grated her a little. Poor Mako and Bolin, having to endure her rant between each sip of sake. She should really apologise for that. Maybe offer an upgrade on that old Satomobile model Mako continued to parade around. Vintage, he called it.
Her stream of thoughts were interrupted by the welcome tone of the telephone. Neatly perched on the table next to her, alongside a picture containing a snapshot of a rather giggly couple attending a royal ball at the Fire Nation. Good times. Asami snatched up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Oh spirits, it's good to hear your voice!"
Asami felt herself smile.
"This is unexpected."
"Unexpectedly good?" the voice on the other end asked, chuckles melded with nerves.
"Hearing your voice is never not good, silly" Asami responded. "How are you? I'm shocked they actually have a phone on a Fire Nation zeppelin. Guess they're finally following in Zaofu's footsteps."
"Uh...yeah."
"Korra?" Asami asked. "Is everything okay?"
The echoes of automobiles and hurried chatter flooded out of the end of the receiver. A few growls and vulgarities too. Painting a picture of an unpleasant scene. Asami was sure she heard the words "guards" and "take them away."
"Where are you right now?"
A pause.
"Well, you see, the thing is..."
The earth rose up, taking the air out of the thug's lungs, having never experienced the force of earthbending before. Winded and wounded, it didn't take long for the authorities to rush over and ensnare him, leading him back to his little collective, all of whom were bound, pressed to the ground, each of their faces inked or marked with what appeared to be flame designs, crude as they may be.
"Apologies Avatar, we won't let him out of our sight again," one of the officers nodded towards the woman.
The raised earth receded back into the ground, only a faint scar remaining. She withdrew her stance, offering the officer a weak wave. Adorned in her traditional Water Tribe clothing, exposing muscle and beauty to all onlookers, her hair long and winding in the dusty air, Avatar Korra observed as the gaggle of goons were taken away for processing, leaving her alone with the public telephone.
"I may be delayed a little bit longer, something sort of...came up just as I was heading to the airship."
Another pause.
"Something that involved violence and explosions?" Asami asked
"No, of course not!" Korra retaliated. She turned behind her, what was a simple street now a scorched battleground. "Okay, maybe there was one explosion."
"Korra..."
"I swear I didn't go looking for trouble! I was on my way to grab my flight and-"
"Trouble found you?"
"Exactly!"
"Trouble that led to things exploding, that you now have to clean up."
"Exactly!"
"And I won't be seeing you for a while because it's your duty to fix every little thing."
Korra's words failed her for a moment as she tried to conjure up a rebuttal, but come up empty.
"Asami...I'm sorry it always ends up like this."
"No, please, don't," there was an audible shudder on the other end. "That wasn't fair, I'm sorry. You're the Avatar. You fix things. It's what I love the most about you."
"What about my winning smile?"
"Don't push your luck."
"Sorry."
Asami's laugh trickled out, sweet as honey.
"I guess we've been through this dance so many times, I just hoped the world would leave you alone for a bit. But that's just selfish."
"It's not selfish. We're allowed to see each other, we deserve it," Korra added. "But...sometimes..."
"The world gets its way."
"...Exactly"
The sloshing of brandy could be heard filling the contents of the glass on the other end of the line.
"Do you know when you'll be back?"
"If I hurry, I can probably find an airship to take me across-"
Her train of thought was shattered when a gloved hand grasped her shoulder. The shock was so sudden that Korra almost unleashed another barrage of earthbending in response, only to find herself looking up the face of what she assumed was a Fire Nation official. His face pale. His eyes drowning in fear.
"Korra? What's wrong?"
Korra still felt the sting in her heart as she recalled the fresh memory of her departure. In her mind; the shadow of a very distressed Asami. She hid it well, as any good CEO should. Concern for the masses always took precedence over the wiles of the heart, that was just the way things were. An Avatar's duty. While her duty was to support the ever increasing distance between them. Not that she could completely disguise the sourness in her voice.
"You have to go."
"But-"
"This is too important to ignore. You are the Avatar. You belong to the world, not just me."
Korra tried to push such thoughts to the back of her mind as she was transported towards the ancient prison known as the Boiling Rock. It was a fortress that had been doubled multiple times over over the decades, with an entire section devoted to that of one prisoner. Upon landing, a familiar face greeted her, one that was ravaged by concern.
"Avatar."
"Lord Zuko" she responded with a faint nod.
"We already have a suspect in custody that aided Azula in her escape, he's just about to be interrogated.
The two old souls walked along the path towards the entrance, all the while Korra could not help but notice the faces of the guards. Sorrow and shame painted across them like they had been hit by a branding iron.
"What happened here?"
"It seems my sister was able to break free of her binds due to a guard smuggling in some kind of explosive material. We were too careless to think that in her old age she would have given up her ideals of conquest. Though I suppose madness such as hers can hardly be cured."
"I've heard the stories."
"The history books do her an injustice. Her mind was as wicked as it was cunning. She brought the Earth Kingdom to its knees almost single-handed. Though time may have made her body weaker, I fear what pain shall be wrought in the name of her revenge," a shallow breath escaped him. "She must be stopped."
"Guess we had better focus on finding her. Think this turncoat knows anything?"
"If he does, we'll get it out of him."
The guard in question was a strikingly handsome man, save for the burns and bruises that had lacerated his face after he was found out. Seemed his old colleagues weren't particularly impressed with his recent venture.
"This was found in his personal quarters," one of the interrogators stated as he handed a large book to Korra.
Bound to the ground in a large stone room with several benders surrounding him, the accused looked like a child that had been caught playing in the mud, awaiting the strictest of punishments. Korra turned her attention to the pages between the well-worn binder, a random page revealing a variety of drawings and miniature copies of ancient paintings.
"This is Azula?" she asked Zuko, referring to an image of a beautiful woman with a devilish smile.
"In her youth, yes," Zuko said, the disdain all too evident as he glanced across at some of the images that appeared to be rushed doodles of their escapee, all exaggerated to express flirtatious intentions.
The former Fire Lord turned his attention to the prisoner.
"You have one chance to tell me everything you know regarding her whereabouts. Where is she heading, what is she after, every last sordid word you two ever exchanged. Comply and at the very least you won't share in her fate."
"My lord, we have these as well," the guard added, handing over a series of papers to the pair. "Seems they were exchanging letters in secret. They are all dated, and match up with his schedule from the past few years."
"A real affair, huh?" Korra muttered as he looked at the accused, who was now starting to profusely sweat. As it seemed he needed a little more nudging, Korra began to read a random letter aloud.
"My Princess, my future Queen, your words of sweet venom have taken hold of my heart. I cannot deny I too long to see you return to the ways of your youth and lead our people to their former glory. Those of us who believe dwindle by the day, but I am the one constant. I shall free you from this wretched place."
"You fool," Zuko interjected. "She is a master manipulator, any weak heart she will twist to her whim with fanciful words and false promises."
A murmur from the prisoner tempted Korra to keep reading.
"This is a recent entry, only a month ago," she added "To my Fire Lord, I now have a way to free you. I will attempt to sneak in the key to your salvation to your very lips. I shall not rest until you are unchained. As for what you seek, the easiest way is through the..." Her heart began to sink. "The Southern Water Tribe?"
Before Zuko could even intervene, Korra had suddenly taken the man by the scruff of his collar and lifted him off the floor with relative ease. Her eyes were no longer gentle, they were fierce, hardened.
"Why is Azula going to the Southern Water Tribe? What does she want there?!"
"...Her," was the only word that she managed to catch out of him before she growled and slammed his whole body to the floor, a pained cry echoing out in response.
"Answer me!"
"I...I will not betray her!"
Korra grit her teeth.
"I swear, if you don't tell me what I want to know within the next five seconds, then spending the rest of your miserable life on this rock is going to a pleasantry compared to what I am going to do to you!" she warned.
"Korra," Zuko's voice spoke out with an aged old authority.
"What?!" she snapped back.
He simply handed her another extract of paper.
"I think we can guess what she is after. This fool was kind enough to write it down," he explained.
Quickly snatching it out of his hands, Korra began to read through the writing as fast as possible. Confusion crossed her face as she tried to decipher what was before her.
"These are all extracts. Random bits of information about the Spirit World," she said aloud. "My dearest Azula, your words of love will not be wasted. Behold the fruits of my labour, this is everything I have surrounding its legend. The path is treacherous, but I have no doubt you will succeed." She paused again before glancing up at Zuko. "Its legend?"
"It appears that my sister seeks to head to the Spirit World through the Southern Water Tribe, but for what reason I cannot fathom."
"...Hold on."
Korra grabbed the rest of the papers and scanned some of the entries she had already read aloud, browsing over the words like it were a lock, and a specific passage was a key that could untangle its heinous secrets. And sure enough, she soon found her answer, and it was one that made her previous anger melt away. Replaced by a visceral sense of dread.
"I know what she's after."