Azula loaded another crate of small explosives into the wagon. Frankly, she couldn't believe that even in the New Ozai Society she had to do manual labor. But she needed to go on this mission, so she was trying to be 'helpful.'
"That should do it," said Lord Tomono. "Everyone gather around." It was still early morning, and pale grey sunlight streamed in through the open stable windows. About ten New Ozai Society members assembled around Tomono; by the far the largest cell of which Azula had been a member. The New Ozai Society was savvy, keeping its members in the dark about the identity and whereabouts of other cells. No wonder Zuko hadn't been able to stomp them out.
The rebels surrounding Azula were mostly nobles, with some former soldiers mixed in. All of them were armed to the teeth, with weapons for close hand-to-hand combat ready. Azula herself didn't carry any. Metal was for people who hadn't been born with the best weapon imaginable. She flexed her hands eagerly.
"You know the stakes," said Tomono eagerly to the group. His close-cut white beard betrayed his lifetime of service in the Imperial Navy, and although he was old, he stood tall and proud. "If all goes well today, not only will the Firelord be no more, but also the Earth King and the leaders of the Water Tribes. You must be swift, and you must be victorious. All of the Fire Nation will honor your sacrifice." The insurgents nodded, but Azula raised her voice.
"What about the Avatar?" she said loudly.
Tomono turned his grey gaze upon her. "Zamira, I think you understand that this mission is a one-way trip," he said heavily. "But your name will live on in songs as one of the great liberators of the Fire Nation. By this afternoon, Ozai will once again be Firelord!" He turned to the other rebels. "For Ozai!" he said, raising his fist.
"For Ozai!" they yelled back, also raising clenched fists. The stable lightened as the sun finally peeked over the horizon. Azula could feel a rush of power flow through her, and she rolled her shoulders luxuriously. Truly, those who were born of fire rose with the sun.
"Now go," said Tomono. "The carriage will pass by in less than an hour. You must be waiting for it."
Azula piled into the wagon with the nine others, her hair plaited in a long braid that hung to the middle of her back. She wore no makeup, and the rough clothes of a commoner. If it weren't for the power of fire she could feel coursing through her, she wouldn't recognize herself at all. Just to be safe, she repeated things she knew to be true as the wagon rattled away.
You are Princess Azula of the Fire Nation. You were born with the fire and power to make all things possible. But being Firelord is not your destiny. Azula breathed deeply as she tried to focus on the last phrase, the one that truly tested how sane she was today. Zuko is not your enemy. She pondered the sentence, rolling it around in her mind. It felt true. Good. It had felt true for weeks now, her bad days growing scarcer and scarcer ever since she had accepted that she would never be Firelord.
For a while, all that had kept her lucid in the insane asylum was her desire to find and kill her mother for abandoning her. For thinking she was a monster. But after she found Ursa, and Ursa had apologized, Azula had felt confused, unmoored…
She ran away into the forest, completely broken by her mother's simple words "I'm sorry." Ozai had never said that to her. No one had ever said that to her. And what did it mean if people could do wrong and then admit it? The trees whistled around her, still full of mysterious spirits. Perhaps they could take her from this terrifying world, one where people could change so completely, where fear might not be the only way…
"Azula!" Zuko was behind her, calling her name. Against her will, she stopped. She didn't want to resume their fight, but she couldn't quite ignore his familiar voice.
"Azula, come back!" Zuko yelled desperately. His hair flew around his face as sprinted towards her. "Azula, I love you! Come back with me. I can help you!"
He loved her? Something clenched in Azula's chest. Just an hour ago, she had tried to kill him to get to their mother. Two days ago, she had almost thrown him over a cliff. And now he said he loved her? Azula shook her head in confusion. She had never understood Zuko, never. After everything she had done to him, he still could say the words 'I love you.' And from his face, unexpectedly streaked with tears, it looked like he meant it. How could this be possible? Everything seemed to spin. The first patters of rain started to fall.
"We're family," Zuko pleaded, slowing to a walk and extending his hand to her. "You'll always be my sister, no matter what!" Raindrops bounced off his pale skin as he stood, reaching out to her. Water welled in Azula's eyes. He painted a lovely picture of the world, but she knew it wasn't true.
"Oh Zuko," she said, choking back tears. "Even when you're strong, you're weak!" Weak to believe forgiveness was possible. Azula backed away towards the forest, willing to be lost in the storm.
"No, Azula!" Zuko screamed. "Please!" Lightning cracked behind him, lighting up his stricken face. She had to go now, or she never would. She ran.
She had run and cried for days, stopping only to drink the rain collected in leaves. It was then that she realized being Firelord may not be her destiny, if it was possible that she was so wrong about the world—
The wagon screeched to a halt, and Azula was jerked out of her memories. She wiped her face quickly with her sleeve, hoping the other New Ozai Society members hadn't noticed.
"We're here," said the leader. They were wedged in a side alley in an emptier part of the city. Mai's carriage would pass by in less than half an hour.
They waited, Azula growing more anxious by the moment. What if the carriage didn't come? All her plans would be ruined. But then they heard cheers from across the town. Mai must be on her way. Several rebels hefted heavy crates left in the alley and stacked them across the road, forming a blockade, then scampered up to sit on the roofs surrounded the street. A few minutes later, the ornate red carriage rattled into sight, pulled by two luxurious black rooster-horses.
As soon as she saw the carriage, Azula moved into action. There were five fighters in the alley, plus herself, and four fighters on the roof. Regretfully, Azula stole a knife from the woman beside her.
"What—" the woman's gasp was cut off with a gurgle as Azula slit her throat. Fast as the lightning she summoned, Azula stabbed two more New Ozai Society members in the throat, leaving only two in the alley. Outside by the street, the carriage stopped abruptly, and the coachman was pierced by two arrows. Damn. Azula had hoped to have a perfect record.
"Zamira, why?" said a rebel, even as he swung his sword at her head. She ducked under it, and summoned a small blue flame. "My name's not Zamira," she smiled, and sliced through his neck. The headless corpse fell bloodlessly, the wound cauterized by Azula's fire. The other insurgent in the alley screamed and ran, but Azula chased him down, scorching the bottoms of his feet as he ran. She threw him against the stone wall of the alley, and he fell unconscious. Good. Azula ran out into the street, where the other rebels had swung the carriage door open. "Mai's not inside!" they yelled, panicked.
"Really?" Azula said. "Huh." That changed her plan slightly. As she approached her former allies, she shot fire at the four men, and then, in a move she had learned from Tai Lee, punched one quickly in all his chi points. He fell to the ground limply. A rebel threw a fistful of fire at her, but she waved it aside. Pathetic bending like that barely merited a response, and she chi-blocked him, too. The final two men fought better, approaching her as a unit, but she was the Princess Azula. Spinning faster than they could see, she kicked one in the nose, and burnt the knee of another. He howled and fell, and she kneed him in the side of the head. Fighting was so much harder when she didn't use lethal force. It was like a whole separate skill! The man with the broken nose fell to his knees, arms over his head.
"You're in luck," said Azula. "I'm in a merciful mood today. After all, it's my brother's wedding!" She reached inside her pocket and tied the man's hands behind him, then shoved him into the carriage. She tied his hands to his feet for good measure.
She was running late. Azula painstakingly hauled the other four men into the carriage and slammed the door shut. The cabin was really only meant for two; shoving four in there was quite impressive of her. Gasping and out of breath, she moved the crates of explosives blocking the road, then hopped up to the driver's seat. The former driver was so full of arrows he looked like a porcupine-bear. She shoved him onto the street and snapped the reins briskly.
The carriage rattled once more through the streets, faster this time. Azula didn't want to be late. Guards waved her through each entrance to the palace, and Azula sighed. If she hadn't intervened, this stupid bridal tradition would have gotten Zuko and all his little friends killed. He needed to learn that fear was the only way...if she had been Firelord, the guards would never have been so lax. She checked herself. You will never be Firelord. That is not your destiny.
Finally, two recognizable figures appeared in the distance near the tall courtyard gates, wearing red and green. Probably Mai and that Kyoshi Warrior Zuko kept around.
It was time to go. Azula slapped the reins against the horses one more time, then leapt out of the carriage, rolling lightly to break her fall. Her black braid fell over her shoulder, and she pushed it back as she stood, pressing her back to the edge of a palace outbuilding. After a few hundred meters, Imperial Guards grabbed the reins of the rooster-horses up ahead, and yelled in surprise as they looked inside the carriage to find four New Ozai Society members, all very alive.
Azula smiled broadly. Under the circumstances, she thought she had given Zuko a good wedding present. "Congratulations," she said softly, and disappeared into the morning shadows.