The sun was bright and warm. Zuko stood with his face raised to the sky, feeling the energy thrum through his body. He was back to full power. He was as ready as he was ever going to be to try this. Now to see if he could actually use the purification flames to heal Shizue's mind without draining himself dry.
"I'll be here if you need me," Katara said, touching his arm.
He nodded in thanks.
Iroh, who was standing next to her, smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure it will be easier this time. You're above ground, after all."
"Right." Zuko let out a breath and turned to Shizue. "Let's do this."
They sat opposite each other in the small courtyard, knees close enough to touch. His hands trembled a little as he placed them on her head. Unlike when he'd healed Biyu, this was so much more personal. He was conscious of the gravity of what was at stake: of being able to reunite properly with the woman who'd watched over him as a child, of learning the truth about what happened to his mother, of having a chance to know more about his bending. So much was resting on success.
"Do I need to do anything?" Shizue asked.
"No. Just relax."
Her eyebrows arched a fraction. "Maybe you should do the same. You're trembling."
"Sorry." He forced himself to breathe more slowly, trying to ease the sharp ball tightening everything in his chest. "I just want this to work."
"As do I."
Their eyes met. In that moment he saw her desperation, her frustration. She wanted her memories back more than anything. Oddly, it helped to calm him. He focussed on the thought of filling that need for her rather than all the emotions that stormed within him in waves. His fire could help her. That was all that mattered.
Zuko closed his eyes and linked their energy. A twitch passed through him. There it was: that shifting bundle of wrongness slipping and tangling its way all through her mind. Queasiness curdled his stomach, but he ignored the instinct to recoil. He had to stay calm. Focussed.
Carefully, he wrapped his own energy around a part of the taint, disentangling it from the rest and trapping it in chains of gold.
Burn.
The thought was a command. Fire pulsed from the chains and began to consume everything he had trapped. She didn't even flinch, though he could feel how unpleasant it was for her. Purifying her mind was like drawing puss from an infected wound; he had to get it out bit by painful bit, purging it all in hot waves of fire. There was no way for him to be gentle.
He moved onto the next part and began the process again. Disentangle, trap, burn. The bundle of wrongness didn't seem as bad as Biyu's had been—not quite so entrenched—but removing it was still slow and draining work. Every second that passed, he could feel himself weakening. The only thing that gave him reassurance was the sun's touch: warm, enfolding, like the embrace of a friend. It bolstered him and told him not to falter.
"Be strong," it seemed to say. "You are one of mine. Trust in your flames."
A fine tremor started in Zuko's hands. He dug deeper into his reserves of energy, picturing in his mind what he had seen when he had unlocked the final chakra: all the power, the potential. Surely, it meant he was capable of more. He was a Child of the Undying Fire. It was his gift to heal. There had to be a way to purify Shizue's mind without leaving his own energy withered like a sun-starved flower.
Trust in your flames.
He paused, still holding onto a piece of the slithering mass of wrongness. Perhaps that was the problem. He had thought it would be too much if he tried to take on the whole contamination at once. He had thought it was better to do it strand by strand, burning in hot pulses of fire. But it was so draining to have to keep stopping and starting the flames. What if … what if he could just let them spread and burn on their own, just like a forest fire?
What if he could choose what would be consumed?
Zuko loosened the chains just enough to let the strand of wrongness connect back with the rest of the slippery, shifting mass. He reminded himself that the purification flames were not like the kind he willed beyond his own flesh; they were a manifestation of healing energy, sparked to life from the sun that burned inside him. They would not harm her—could not harm her if he willed it.
He exhaled and focussed on the tip of the contamination. Burn, he thought, putting all of his willpower into the command. Burn anything that would hurt her. Burn anything that doesn't belong.
The flames flared to life, but this time he let them spread along the slithering mass of wrongness. All the taint, all that foul imprint of foreign energy began to flicker in fiery gold, disintegrating and releasing its hold on her mind. He could feel it all, feel it being consumed by his flames. It was like he was taking all of that wrongness into himself—so awful and nauseating and hard to contain—but his willpower was strong. He refused to back down. Pain and suffering were nothing new to him; he knew how to handle such burdens.
Shizue stiffened and made a small sound, but it was not from any damage he had inflicted. The flames still obeyed him. Linked as they were, he could feel her chi beginning to flow more easily, no longer caged in and subdued by the shifting mass. Perhaps some of her memories were already returning. He couldn't sense such things, but the wrongness—the wounds inflicted upon her energy—that was his to mend. That was his to purify.
Be healed.
The last of the contamination caught fire. Zuko shuddered at the feel of it writhing against his flames, but then it was all gone. Her mind was clean.
He slowly lowered his hands. "It's done."
She opened her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment and then her expression began to change, becoming less like a hardened stranger's and more like the woman he recalled from his childhood. "Prince Zuko," she murmured. Her gaze seemed to take in everything about him. "You've grown."
All he could manage was a nod before exhaustion struck like a rock. It felt like he'd just run up a mountain with no breaks. He swayed and probably would have hit the ground had hands not gripped his shoulders from behind.
"I knew this would happen," Katara said, still keeping him steady. "You pushed yourself too hard again."
"It's fine. I'm fine." He glanced back at Shizue. "Anyway, are you—did your memories—"
Shizue winced and started rubbing her temples.
He sat up straighter. "What's wrong?"
"It hurts."
Of course. He had removed the taint that had caged and rewritten her mind, but all that pent up blockage was still there. "Sorry, I'll try—"
"No you won't." Katara grabbed his shoulders again and pulled him back. "You've already done enough."
"I'm fine. I figured out how to purify energy without giving up too much of my own, so—"
"That's great, but you look like you're about to pass out."
He closed his mouth. Now that she mentioned it, he really was tired. His eyelids were heavy and it felt like his head was stuffed with koalasheep wool. Never mind the way his limbs just wanted to collapse like a boneless fish.
One of her hands cupped his jaw as she leaned over him to meet his gaze. "I'm a healer too, remember? Let me do this."
He nodded and moved aside so she could take his place to finish the healing. The bluish glow encasing her hands was hypnotising, or maybe that was just because he was so sleepy.
"It seems to be working," Iroh observed.
Zuko nodded. "Waterbending is probably more suited for this part anyway."
He remembered when he and Katara had first tried to heal Biyu—the different things they were able to sense, the way Katara's water had smoothed the resistance and tangled chi more easily than his fire. Perhaps part of it was because she was so much more experienced than him, but he got the feeling it was also just the nature of fire and water healing to have different strengths.
Katara lowered her hands from Shizue's temples, letting the water slip back into the flask attached to her hip. "Better?" she asked.
Shizue was still for a moment, breathing slowly. Prickles of anticipation crept all over Zuko's skin. The hush that settled between the four was tangible and weighty; it felt like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for whatever she would say.
"My mother," he said, unable to stay silent any longer. "Did you, have you—"
"She's not here. She was never here."
The words were quiet, but they reverberated through his entire being. He curled his fingers into his palms. It was difficult to keep his voice calm. "Do you know where she is?"
Shizue raised her head to look at him. A lump formed in his throat. Despair. That was all he could see in her eyes: despair and guilt.
"Don't." He swallowed and his voice wobbled too much for his liking. "Don't tell me she's—"
"She's not dead."
Relief, dizzying and heady, swept through him in a rush. He sucked in a breath and gripped his knees. "Then where—"
"She's not dead," Shizue repeated, "but she might as well be."
His heart lurched and sunk like a rock plummeting to the bottom of the ocean. Words clung to his tongue, but he couldn't get them out. It was a moment before he realised Katara was squeezing his hand. The touch was somehow anchoring and he found himself holding on tightly.
"What do you mean?" he half-whispered. "What happened to her?"
"The island … took her."
"Island?" Katara said, scrunching her brow.
"My memories are still a bit hazy, but that island, that place is cursed." Shizue stared at him grimly. "I tried. I did everything I could to free her, but I can't fight spirits and it would have done her no good had I got myself killed trying."
Iroh's eyes widened at the mention of spirits. "Tell us everything."
Shizue averted her gaze. "There isn't much to say. Ursa had been Ursa. For all that she had accepted her banishment, she hated that she had been forced to leave her children."
Shizue went on to explain how, three years ago, they had received news that Zuko had been banished. Ursa had immediately set out to find him, and Shizue had chosen to go with her. It was while they were sailing, looking for a place to rest, that they'd stumbled across the island.
"I can't remember everything that happened there," she said, shaking her head, "only that your mother was taken and I was unable to get her back."
His heart seemed to have got lost somewhere in his stomach, sinking deeper into pits of hollowness. "Mother was looking for me? I'm, I'm the reason she—"
"Don't blame yourself," Iroh said firmly.
Katara squeezed his hand, as if to say she also agreed that it wasn't his fault his mother had got trapped on some cursed island. Zuko couldn't say he felt reassured. If anything, it only added to the mess of feelings stirring inside him.
"If anyone should be blamed, it's me," Shizue said bitterly. "I failed to protect her. I failed to save her. I even failed to get help. Instead, I just got myself brainwashed into some mindless Joo Dee and forgot everything." Her lip curled in disgust. "Such failure is unforgivable."
"From what I remember of my sister-in-law, she would not hold it against you," Iroh said. "Besides, there is no way you could have known the Dai Li had the power to rewrite memories, though I am curious about what brought you to Ba Sing Se."
"Desperation. There did not seem to be any way to free Ursa, but then I remembered the stories about the bridge between worlds."
Zuko's breath caught. "You were looking for the Avatar."
She nodded. "I figured there was a chance the cycle had continued beyond air and water. I thought maybe the Avatar had been hiding in Ba Sing Se."
"Except Aang was sealed in that iceberg," Katara said softly. "There was no way you could have found him back then."
Everyone fell silent. A bird chirped from somewhere over the wall.
Zuko swallowed against the thickness clogging his throat. Even his tongue was like lead. "What do we do now?" he asked. "If what you're saying is true, Aang might be the only one who can help my mother, but he's …"
Katara looked down, though her hand still clutched his tightly. Iroh also lowered his gaze. No one wanted to say the words. No one wanted to make it more real that even Aang was currently lost to them.
"Now you know how the situation stands." Shizue stood a bit shakily to her feet and made to walk away.
"W-wait, where are you going?" Zuko exclaimed. "Shouldn't we talk about this more or at least—"
"I'm tired." She paused with her back to him. "I'll let you know if I remember anything else."
"Of course," Iroh said. "You must wish to rest after the healing. Allow me to walk you back."
Shizue stared at his proffered arm, but then she just gave a jerky nod. Iroh shot Zuko a reassuring look before heading off with her in the direction of the guest chambers. The desire to call them back—to insist that she tell more now, because somehow Zuko knew she had remembered far more than was she letting on—bubbled up in his throat, but he kept his mouth shut. Maybe it was for the best that they took a break.
Silence returned to the courtyard.
"Hey." Katara bumped his shoulder with hers, still holding his hand. "It's going to be okay. We'll get your mum back."
"I know."
A few creases formed on her brow. Perhaps she had picked up on the disquiet edging his tone. "You don't sound so certain."
"It's not that."
"Then what?"
He sighed and frowned at their clasped hands. "I don't know. I don't know what's wrong with me all of a sudden. I should be happy, right? Even if my mother is trapped on that island, I finally know the truth. I know she's alive. It's everything I ever wanted."
Katara squeezed his hand. "It's okay to be confused, Zuko. You don't need to beat yourself up just because you're not feeling what you think you should."
He was quiet for a long moment.
"You wanna talk about it?" she asked, nudging his shoulder again.
"It's stupid."
"Nothing you feel is stupid. They're your feelings. They're important."
He glanced up and saw the smile warming her eyes like sunrays on the ocean. It made him feel more assured, though he still looked down when he spoke. "I just … for so long I thought that was it. Mum was gone. I'd never see her again." He swallowed. "I've missed her so much, but sometimes …"
"Sometimes?"
He shook his head a bit helplessly. "I don't know. It just … it hurt. It hurt every day. She left me with no explanation. I waited and waited and she never came back. All I could assume was that she'd died or she just didn't want me as a son anymore."
Katara traced circles on his palm with her thumb. "You heard Shizue, right? Your mum was forced to leave you. She went looking for you the moment she heard you got banished."
"I know. I know exactly what my mother has done for me."
That was why he was confused. He should have felt relieved, happy, but inside he was just a churning storm. He didn't know if it was from guilt—and there was indeed a lot of guilt after learning all she'd suffered for him—or just a child's lingering resentment at being abandoned to an abusive father and sister. It was as if finding out she was alive had pulled the cork on all his bottled up feelings, letting them spill out in a mess.
"I feel so childish," he confessed. "Mum only tried to protect me. She got herself trapped in some awful place because of me. I have no right to feel upset with her still. It's stupid and irrational."
"It was hard for you when she left, right?"
"Yeah, but ..." His gaze drifted up to Katara's face, catching on her necklace. Something twisted in his stomach and he pulled his hand from hers. "Oh geez, I'm so sorry, Katara. You should have just told me to shut up. I'm such an idiot."
"What?" She blinked at him. "What are you—"
"Why'd you let me go on like that?" He grabbed fistfuls of his hair, wishing the ground would swallow him. Tactless. He was so tactless.
"Hey." Katara grasped his shoulders to guide him into facing her. "What are you talking about?"
His gaze dropped back to her necklace. Very gently, he brushed his fingertip along the carved, wave-like patterns on the pendant. "I'm the worst. Here I am complaining, but it's your mother who actually …" He trailed off and met her eyes. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
She let out a breath. "Oh."
"I really am the worst." He started to pull away again, but she tightened her grip.
"No, it's okay. I'm okay. You didn't upset me."
"But—"
"Zuko, I'm fine. Just because I lost my mum doesn't mean you're not allowed to talk about yours. I'm the one who said I wanted you to tell me about these things."
He bit his lip. "You're not just saying that? Because I know you always try to—"
"I'm telling you I'm fine," she assured him, half-laughing now. Her hands slid up to the nape of his neck. "You can relax."
Her touch reassured him more than her words, though he still had to make sure. "And you're really not just saying that to be nice?"
"I'm really not." Some of the humour faded from her eyes. "It's true I miss my mum. I'd give just about anything for her to come back, but she can't. She never will."
"Then why would you want to listen to me go on about how—"
"Because I care about you." Katara held his gaze, her tone soft and serious. "Because I'm glad your mum is alive. I'm happy for you, Zuko. I'm really happy, but I also get it. I get why you're confused and upset and don't know how to feel. I understand."
"You do?"
"Yeah. To be honest, I feel the same way about my dad."
He looked at her curiously.
A tiny sigh escaped her and she lowered her hands to her lap. "After we lost Mum, it's like Dad went away with her. He put all his energy into fighting the Fire Nation. We hardly saw him, and then he and all the older men just one day up and left, and that was it." She worked out a crease in her dress. "I haven't seen him in three years."
Zuko's eyes widened. That was the same amount of time he had been banished.
"So when we ran into Bato at that abbey, I was really relieved. I finally knew my Dad was alive. I'd been worried all that time, but then …"
"You started to wonder why he didn't get in contact with you—why he'd stayed away so long."
She nodded.
"Is that why you didn't end up going with Sokka to see him yesterday?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I really do want to see him, but sometimes I just get so, so …"
"Mad?"
Her gaze darted up to his. "Yeah. I get mad. I know why he left, but we were just kids." Her tone became hushed. "I wasn't ready to lose both my parents."
Zuko wrapped one of his arms around her and pulled her against his side. She immediately nestled closer, resting her head on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't know you were feeling that way."
"I didn't want to say anything," she admitted. "Sokka doesn't seem to mind that Dad just left us for all those years. It … it made me feel worse to see him so excited, like I'm being a bad daughter or something." She curled her fingers into his tunic. "I just wanted my dad to be there for me when I needed him, you know? I wanted to know I could rely on him."
He brought his other arm around her to complete the embrace. "I know. I understand."
Katara nestled even closer. They were both quiet for a moment.
"I like being with you like this," she said so quietly he almost didn't hear her.
"What?"
"You give really nice hugs."
Heat crawled on his cheeks. "Oh. Um, thanks." A pause. "You give nice hugs, too."
She made a soft, snorty sound. Probably because his compliment had been delivered as smoothly as a fish trying to walk on land.
Silence once more settled between them, undemanding and comfortable. It really was nice just holding her like this and not feeling any pressure to speak. He wondered when it was that she had eased all the edges and uncertainty from him. A few months ago, he wouldn't have believed it if someone had said he'd enjoy hugging anyone, let alone the waterbender who travelled with the Avatar.
"Sokka and Mai will probably be back soon," she observed, tracing aimless patterns on his tunic with her fingertip. "They were just going to say goodbye to Enlai and his family, right?"
He made a humming sound of agreement.
"I guess then we'll leave to meet with Dad and the rest of the warriors."
"Will you be okay?"
"Yeah. It's not like I can avoid him forever, and I do want to see him. I just …"
"If it gets hard, you know where to find me."
She squeezed him extra tight. "Thanks, Zuko. That goes for you too as well, you know. For anything. I'll always be there if you need me."
For some reason, his heart quickened a few beats before steadying again. He didn't say anything, though, and just stayed with her like that until voices drifted to them from the path.
"That sounds like Sokka and Mai now," he said, pulling back from her.
She stood up and held out her hand to him, a smile on her lips. "Shall we go meet them?"
Zuko nodded and grasped her hand, allowing her to assist him into standing. It was time to figure out what they were going to do next.
oOo
As anticipated, no one was in the mood to linger once they had all gathered together. For Zuko, there wasn't much point since he now knew his mother wasn't in the city. He was sorry to say goodbye to Biyu, though. It was difficult not to feel close to her when her energy was connected to his. Still, it was obvious she would do far more good in Ba Sing Se. She had agreed to become King Kuei's advisor, not to mention the city's new leader of the White Lotus. Much to Sokka's relief, she had also promised to ensure the Earth Kingdom army would be ready to support the invasion during the eclipse.
No one mentioned the possibility that Aang might not even be awake when the eclipse came.
"Where are you going, Nephew?" Iroh asked, frowning as Zuko headed for the exit to the guest chambers. "We'll be leaving soon. Everyone is already packed."
"There's something I need to do."
Iroh's brow furrowed, but perhaps he caught on to what Zuko intended, for something changed in his expression. "Don't be too long."
"I won't."
Zuko left the room and wasted no time in heading for the prisons. The guards did not turn him away, but they did remain to watch as he walked past the metal cells to the door at the far end. A small, barred grate had been put in the door at eye level to allow air to circulate. He could not see anything inside except the corner of a bed, but that was fine. He knew she was in there and would hear him.
"Azula."
There was a faint rustling and then slow footsteps approached from the other side of the door. "Well, well, if it isn't my dear brother. Come to gloat?"
Something clenched in his stomach. "I came to say goodbye."
A pause. "Leaving so soon?"
"Mother is alive. I'm going to find her."
Pale fingers suddenly curled around the bars and he got a glimpse of amber eyes. "Mother? You know where she is?"
"Shizue does. She's going to guide me to her."
Azula stared at him for a long moment before releasing the bars. "I see. And I suppose I'll be left here in this tiny cell?"
"You know exactly why you're in there."
She laughed, though the sound was as jarring as shattering glass, sudden and unnatural. "I only did what Father wanted. It's not a crime to fight for my nation. Out of the two of us, it's you who's the traitor here."
"I'm not going to argue with you about this."
"Such poise." Poisonous humour dripped from her tongue. "I suppose you must feel all confident now that the monster has been locked up. Right, Brother?"
"You're not a monster, Azula. You're sick and you don't know when to stop, but you're not a monster."
Something flickered in her eyes. Suddenly, her fingers were gripping the bars again. "Don't lie to me," she hissed. "I know what you all think of me. I know you think I'm cruel, inhuman—that I need to be locked away."
His throat tightened, but it was anger that edged his words. "Hundreds of people died because of you! Of course we had to lock you up! You started a revolution and tried to assassinate the king! You tried to take over the city!"
"I did what is expected of a Fire Nation princess!"
He shook his head and stepped back. "Forget it. I can see talking to you is pointless."
"Wait!"
Zuko paused and looked back at her.
"Take me with you, Brother."
His jaw dropped. "What?"
She moved even closer so that her nose was practically poking through the bars. "You're going to find Mother. Take me with you. I can help. I can—"
"Are you joking?"
"I'll be good, I promise. No tricks, no betrayals."
The tightness in his throat got worse until it was like a stone had got lodged in there. Spirits, she was actually serious.
"Azula, I can't. You know I can't."
"Why not?" She tightened her grip on the bars. "So what if I got a few peasants and soldiers killed? She's my mother, too! I deserve to—"
"It's not going to happen," he said firmly.
A scream escaped her and blue flames burst from her hands and lips. Zuko was startled into a defensive stance, but the guards were already swarming on the cell and putting up a barrier of rock. Now, he couldn't see the door or her. He could hear her, though—the unadulterated rage, the blasts of fire that just kept coming and coming.
It shook him.
It was a reminder that the composure his sister had always lorded over him was now just a mask splintering from whatever twisted thing had taken root in her mind.
"You can't do this to me!" she screamed like a child. "You can't keep me locked in this cage! I'm going to get free, and when I do I'll make you regret it! I'll make you all regret it!"
"Prince Zuko." One of the guards moved into his view. "It would be best if you leave now."
Zuko remained frozen. All he could think was how his sister had looked when arrows had pierced her flesh and blood had pooled around her by a half-blackened throne. He remembered how it had felt to connect with her for the healing: all the power, the intensity, the pain, but also the wrongness. It wasn't the same as what he had felt in Biyu and Shizue's minds—nothing manipulated or caused by bending. There was just something off about his sister. It festered and was all tangled up inside her brain like a disease rotting everything. Even now, he could feel a hint of it when he focussed on the thread connecting their energy.
Her snarls got louder and more threatening. Zuko swallowed and tried speaking to her, hoping to calm her down. His voice only aggravated her more. He was forced to leave, his heart so heavy it seemed to weigh his feet.
"She sounds pretty upset."
He paused at the sound of Ty Lee's voice. Her face peered out from the little grate on the cell door to his left. The sight of her made his stomach twist. Ty Lee had helped them bring down Azula with her chi blocking, but she had also gone too far in the eyes of those who decided who got to walk free or be imprisoned. It was inevitable she would end up here after letting the tanks in and supporting Azula for so long.
"Azula is just mad because she didn't get what she wanted," he muttered.
"Maybe it would help if I got moved to a cell closer to hers. I could calm her down, keep her company."
"That's not for me to decide."
"But you could put in a good word for me, couldn't you? Aren't you friends with the king and that lady advisor?"
Zuko sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks!"
His frown deepened. "You're weirdly chirpy for someone in prison."
"Actually, I hate being in here. It's boring and small and none of the guards are cute."
"Uh … I'm sorry?"
"It's not your fault." Ty Lee flashed him a smile. "Though if you can get me a cute guard, I'd appreciate it."
Zuko blinked a few times. "Right. Well, I'd better go. The others are probably waiting for me."
She made a humming sound. "Mai did say you were leaving."
"Mai came to see you?"
"To say goodbye." There was a pause, then Ty Lee bit her lip and turned away. "Hey, um … keep her safe for me, will you?"
"Pretty sure Mai can take care of herself."
"Even so."
His voice softened. "Yeah, alright. You take care of yourself as well."
"Of course." She tapped the bars. "Though it's not like I'll be going anywhere."
Zuko didn't understand how she could smile and say such things, but then he guessed that was just Ty Lee.
He nodded to her in parting and left the prisons to regroup with the others, who were being seen off by King Kuei and Biyu. Soon, they were all piled on Appa—a difficult thing now that there were eight of them—and leaving the city behind.
"Next stop is Chameleon Bay!" Sokka said from where he sat at the reins.
Zuko's gaze met Katara's briefly before shifting to Aang, who was still unconscious and being cradled on her lap. He really hoped Aang woke up soon.