A/N: An unused piece for the Pro Bending Circuit. Can be read as an alternate starter for The Fall of the Blue Dragon.

(object) a faded photograph
(plot point) someone has just woken up from a nightmare
Include your element in your fic. It does not have to be bent but the element must be plot-relevant - 3 points [Earth]
Covering for Earthbender, White Falls Wolfbats
Characters: Azula and Zuko
935 words

She had struck a great blow and yet felt nothing. Azula smirked and sneered at her brother, her soldiers, even her associates that had aided her in the coup of Ba Sing Se. Yet it was hollow, empty posturing. When attention left her Azula felt the satisfaction fall from her face in an avalanche. Bringing down the great Earth Kingdom city without bloodshed was a great feat but the fissure in her chest yawned further open rather than slam shut.

She reasoned that the triumph would come from returning home to Father. Beyond a doubt she had proven herself to be the superior sibling. Zuko had hardly played a part in the death of the Avatar or the Earth Kingdom revolution. But the Fire Lord's adoration was still not won. He had nodded and waved to his council to mark the changes on their planning documents. The dying embers of Azula's pride smothered further under her father's boot.

At night, there were even more agonies. Her mother came to her in dreams, burns blossoming on her perfect skin as she named each atrocity that Azula caused. Her words echoed endlessly, accomplishments turned to sharp torment that Azula could not keep out. Her hands clamped over her ears and she woke that way, nails digging bloody furrows into her scalp as she twisted in her plush bed.

In the dark of her bedroom, she repeated her mantra to herself. Everything that she had done must lead to something worthwhile. She would achieve success and ascend the throne to a glorious, perfect Fire Nation that she helped to craft. Her reflection mocked her rather than offer solace. Her confidence smoldered still, gasping for air.

There was the barest hint of a breeze when the Comet approached. It wasn't enough to lift her spirits, not fully, but Azula felt a spark of renewal. The end was nigh. Her nights eased and she more easily believed her own confident mask.

Azula returned to needling Zuko and reminding him that she was the one that seized the Fire Nation's inevitable victory from the jaws of a defeat he was going to let happen. He sulked, refusing to rise to her raised hackles or to react to the war efforts rising to a fever pitch.

"Do you really think that your one tiny act of loyalty is enough for you to skate by as heir?" Azula asked one evening. She'd tracked him back to his room where he had disappeared to even before dinner had concluded.

He sat on a trunk of clothes, one that had been dragged from the depths of the palace's storage. When Father had first banished Zuko, Azula had laughed while watching the staff pack all his belongings into cases like it. Then all lingering traces of the prince had been scrubbed away. Even now his desk and wardrobe lacked the old, faded photographs that had once littered the surfaces.

He seemed intent to ignore her question, which wouldn't do. Azula swept over to stand in front of him, one hand on her hip and the other prodding him in the chest. "You can't avoid the truth, Zu-zu," she mocked.

Zuko's expression was hollow when he twisted his head to look up at her. "He's not dead, Azula," he said.

His words sent a tremor through her gut. The chasm yawned wide in her mind, threatening to consume her. "Who's not dead?" Azula retorted.

Bitter laughter shook Zuko's shoulders. "Who do you think?"

Hackles raising, Azula dove headfirst away from the empty void into the fire of her anger. When every other feeling left her, it was always there to welcome her. "I struck the Avatar down myself. He couldn't have survived," she hissed. "You just don't want to consider the possibility that we might actually win this war."

"Maybe," Zuko breathed. A glint lurked flint-like in his eyes. Azula wanted to crush and smash it into rubble.

"You made your choice, brother. You came back to the fold. Welcome home. You should start acting like a prince again instead of buying into baseless rumors," she hissed. "They're lying to stir up their resistance. It won't matter. In a few weeks, we'll have conquered them all."

His eyes narrowed. "That's all you want to be, isn't it? A conqueror," Zuko said.

"It's our right," Azula said. Her brother was unconvinced. "It's my right at least. I have the guts to risk it all and bring them all down to kneel before the Fire Nation."

Zuko didn't move, didn't say anything further. Azula snorted and turned on her heel to storm to the doorway. It was pointless trying to drive the point further into Zuko. She'd try again some other day to drag him kicking and screaming back into the fold.

"You're right that you're risking everything," Zuko called from behind her. Pausing, she let him say his final piece. "The thing is, you can just as easily lose it all if you're not careful." The truth of her fears hit her like whiplash. An earthquake ripped open the hole in her chest.

Her anger flared, looking for something to consume. All that remained was the fissure and the void, a barren land without a hint of fuel to burn. Azula ran away. She had to keep going.

When Zuko disappeared under the cover of darkness to betray their nation, Azula still could not stoke the fire of her glee to life. Her machinations had worked before with Zuko out of the picture and yet now with him gone, the foundation of her plans had crumbled into dust.