Sorry if this chapter is lackluster; I got a new tattoo and it is burning like crazy (I already checked with my tattoo artist, it isn't infected or anything, I just applied too much ointment and it irritated the skin). The pain was so intense that it made it kinda hard to think for a while but I was writing anyhow because I needed the distraction.
HammerTide: Thanks so much! Originality is one of my goals when working with fics! Azula is the best lady in Avatar. 3
gemsofformenos: "A little break for Azula and still some answers," She definitely needed the break, that's for sure. "She can see things she hasn't seen before, which seems to bother her about her true state of mind. She can see the infection, the spectral 'creatures' or presence, which uses living creatures as a host. This is new and leaves her with the troubling question why?" It definitely makes her wonder if she has a new ability because of her near infection or if she is in fact infected. Or, as you mention, if it is simply just another hallucination. Frankly, she hopes for that last possibility. "In best case the attack on her went wrong and she has successfully fought off the possession, which maybe has left her with some sort of new sense for this presence and maybe some more." This is another thing that she hopes for. "It could have changed tactics as it was about to meet serious resistance and only waits in the back of her mind for the right moment to take her finally." And this is what she fears the most. "This uncertainty is so well written in my opinion, cause you pick up fears and doubts you can find in her canon character and lift them with this setting on a completely new level. Great job!" :D Thanks, that's always a pleasure to here. Keeping characters in character no matter what setting they're in is super important.
She stands before the rest of the group. So they have made her their leader. She can't say that she is surprised, people crave order and there is a sense of normalcy in electing their rightful ruler to fill her role. But she admits that she is jittery about it; she wanted to be fire lord but not like this.
Bujing holds a cross stare, but him aside, her little band of survivors seem to welcome whatever plan she is about to hand them. She lays it out exactly as she had for Ruon Jian. Reactions are as mixed as she anticipated. Xuia in particular is reluctant to flee the pseudo safety of the palace.
"We can hold the palace." She insists.
"Not for long." Azula counters. "We can barely keep them upright for a whole night." She pauses. "And we're running out of food rations that aren't moldy, rotten." She doesn't mention that she needs more bandages. They are running short on makeshift ones too.
"So? Well just do a supply run." Bujing shrugs. Azula's already sour mood plummets further. Prior to her vocalizing leaving the palace, the man had been all gung-ho about the prospect of getting the hell out and moving on.
She doesn't bother calling him on it.
"Were not going to make it to the port in one day." Xuia points out. "Where are we going to stay?"
"The coronation hall." Azula answers. "It kept them out so well that I didn't realize that the world had ended."
"Grab your food rations and some medical supplies. We'll depart in fifteen minutes."
"What will you be doing?" Bujing asks.
"I've already got my things together. I'll be planning our route and possible rest points." Truth be told she mostly aims to work out how to combat these things. She has been thinking it over all night and has come no closer to figuring it out.
The man spares her a final scowl before venturing off to tackle his own preparations.
"We are lucky to have you." Li remarks. Though Azula doesn't feel very appreciated. "People need order, someone to look up to. You are those things."
"I suppose, yes." Yet she feels as though she has no control at all. She is merely an illusion of it. At best she is simply the closest thing that they have.
"This lot needs your careful planning, princess."
She nods.
She just hopes that she can retain her sharp mind...
And what remains of her health.
She looks at her leg and takes a deep breath. She silently prays that her handicap won't hinder her as much as she anticipates.
.oOo.
It is liberating and horrifying in equal measure to be outside once again. They had trekked most of the journey beneath the palace, through the narrow twists and turns of another one of Ozai's underground bunkers.
She has hoped to run into a familiar and uninflected face down there but was only met by a warm and musky gust of air and a chilling, grave-like silence.
But there is safety in the stillness. Security in that nothing and no one is around.
That makes it all the harder to step out into the dangers of the above ground.
Xuia grows increasingly restless as they move further from the bunker and its connection to the palace.
The air that Azula breathes in now makes her miss the stale air of the secret bunker. It smells of rot and infection an aroma that is both sour and sweet at the same time. She crinkles her nose as she gives her surroundings a full scan.
Barren.
She thinks that they must all be gathered at the palace, preparing for an attack.
She furrows her brows, wondering why she thinks that the infected are organized. Decidedly, she chalks it up to having heard Chan talk to her only moments before he began weeping illness.
An evolution. The theory echos in her mind. She never did mention to the others that Chan didn't die as slow as Li mentioned that Lo had. She shudders to herself. "If we hurry, we can make it to the coronation square before the sun falls."
She isn't sure that she is ready to be back in close proximity to the chains that had almost killed her. She takes another deep breath, she has already pushed her leg terribly hard, she is beginning to fear that it will buckle. Agni, what would they think of her then. Bujing would leap at that opportunity.
"You doing okay?" Ruon asks.
"I'm doing just about as well as I can." She replies. Admittedly, his concern is touching.
"If you need a break Chan can carry you…"
Her heart sinks and his eyes go dull as he realizes what he had just said. "Shinu could help you." He corrects himself. "He's a pretty big guy."
"Yes, that's why my father made him one of the head guards." Azula replies. In the silence, prickles of annoyance arise in her mind as she realizes that she has let herself become distracted. Spirits! She could have lead them right into a crowd of the infected. Ruon continues to make conversation but her focus is now on the world around them.
The gates are close, but not nearly close enough. She frowns as she finds the spot where she had broken her leg, the offender is a noteworthy crater in the pavement, just large enough to hook the pointed edge of her boot upon. Her leg seems to flare up in pain at the sight of it. She hobbles passed it with a scowl.
They march in silence, to match the quiet of the world around them. She notices then that there are signs of life that she had missed during her clumsy journey to the palace. Mostly the avians are untouched. Various species of bird zip overhead, undisturbed by the going ons below. The wind still blows, but it is unnerving. There is a peculiar way that vacant, abandoned streets can shape the sound of a simple gust.
It is ghostly.
Chilling.
The few other sounds come from their footfalls on the pavement and sound of her crutches connecting with cobblestone. The clamor of them causes her to cringe each time. Azula truly does resent being viewed as weak and a burden; she knows that she won't be helping her case any…
Regardless, she bites her lip and wanders up to Shinu.
As soon as she finds herself in his arms she finds herself on the receiving end of another rant. "I told you all!" He begins.
She decides that she doesn't need to hear any more of his tirade. "I can walk just fine on my own." She declares. "But the crutches are rather loud. Not as loud as you of course. Still, I'd like to avoid the attention."
Bujing scoffs and makes as if to argue more. A low and gurgling wail brings them to a standstill. Suddenly he looks at her as though they have been great friends for ages. Azula listens for the call again and whispers to Li, "are they usually vocal?"
"Only when they are attacking something." The old woman answers.
Azula nods, as the noise pierces the air again. It is tiered like the palace roof; each level is more haunting than the next. It awakens a very primal portion of her, a fear-driven part of her. That same part of her is what tells her that the voice is, in fact, layered and not several people speaking at once. It is the voice of the infected.
She shivers at the prospect of having such a distortion in her voice.
It leaves an itch in the back of her mind; a faint recollection…
"They sound distant." She observes quietly. "We need to make sure they stay that way." It is a task easier said than done considering that they come from the direction of the coronation square.