Yay, it's April 31st! It is April 31st, right? No? Well, it is for me. Curse you, calendar, for not conforming to my reality!
Anyway, I really should apologize for ditching this for, what, a year? I've got a large hunk of it written, so expect a new chapter every Tuesday. Anyway, I'll shut-up.
Oh yes, a disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own Avatar. It's not really mine. Maybe we can pretend, though? Just don't tell DiMartino and Konietzko. They might not like that.
Azula stared at the dirt road as she rode, the reins of her agamida held loosely in her grasp. For such a large beast, the agamida walked lightly, using it's wings to all but hover above the ground. Azula stroked its neck absentmindedly. The creature threw back its head, making a throaty purring sound.
Glancing up from the dirt, Azula eyed her other companions. Half a dozen hired men, all heavily muscled and covered in a light film of dirt. Azula held about as much trust for them as she did the weather. She had expressed in detail such feelings after striking a deal with them. Azula smiled when one of the men spared a fearful glance in her direction.
She would have used men from the Bloodsworn, but she trusted them even less. They knew the ancient rites she intended to invoke, and she couldn't keep an eye on them at all times. Azula's form shook with silent laughter. The fools had no idea what they had done, teaching Azula their secrets. And now that she was free of her brother's prison, they were discussing "her path". According to the council, she was the only one powerful enough to undertake the ritual of the BloodQueen. She would be rich with power.
Twisting her head, Azula glanced behind her. A large, wooden cage rode on wheels, pulled by another agamida. The Bloodsworn had supplied her with half a dozen of the lizards when she'd stopped breifly at their hideout, and she put them to good use. Over the agamida's back, Azula could see Qin kneeling in the cage. The boy was pathetic - he had groveled shamelessly when Azula had bought him. It didn't matter, though. Azula wanted him for his power, not for his personality. As soon as she was done with him, she could kill him. All the more reason they make haste in getting to their destination.
Azula leapt off her agamida, kicking up a cloud of dust as she landed, and handed the reins to one of the nearby men. As the cage approached, she leapt up on the labouring agamida's back, then up onto the roof of the cage. Her boots thudded on the wood, the cage creaking slightly under her weight. With a twirl she did a frontflip off the roof and landed behind the cage, facing her prisoners.
Qin turned, frightful eyes staring at her. Chuckling at his expression, Azula began to follow after the cage. Did the boy think she was going to hurt him? Azula smirked at the thought. It would be entertaining...
Her gaze shifted to the form lying on the floor of the cage, apparently asleep. The girl's clothes were beginning to look ragged - dirt covered much of them, and multiple tears had disfigured them quite thoroughly. Azula could see the burns she had inflicted festering on the girl's body. And yet, despite the torment Azula had put her through, the earthbending girl still held strong. Her spirit was solid. Azula swiped a hand at the cage angrily, bending fire around her fingers - and then let her arm fall. Whatever. When she was done, not even the Avatar would be able to reach the girl. She would be mad with grief. Mad with pain.
Azula drew a knife from a sheath at her belt and stepped forward. Qin backed away, pressing his lanky form against the back of the cage. Reaching into the cage, Azula grabbed Toph's ankle and dragged her toward the bars. She glanced up at Qin. The boy looked torn between his own saftey, and protecting Toph. Azula raised her knife and pointed it at him with a grin, then turned back to Toph. Instead of cutting the girl, however, Azula drew the sleeve of her shirt up. Her arm was covered in deep scars criss-crossing on the skin, remnants of past needs for blood. Placing the knife against her arm, she pressed down hard. Blood beaded at the sides of the knife as the pain shot up her arm. She pulled the knife away, placing it back within it's sheath, and pressed her now-free hand against the cut. Blood smeared onto her palm. Then she bent fire.
The fire glowed red as her blood intermingled with the flames, then turned to an emerald green, the magics activating. She could feel the spirits at work, and she called on them, drawing them into the flame. She hovered her hand over Toph's forhead, the flames burning mere inches from the girl's skin. With a sudden jerk she bent the flames across Toph's brow. They engulfed the girl's head for a moment, and then seemed to sink into her flesh. They left no traces - no burns, no scorched hair - but Toph would feel their effects. Her dreams - probably already plagued with images of her dead parents - would become insufferable nightmares.
With a teasing parting shot of fire in Qin's direction Azula walked back toward her agamida, chuckling happily at the thought of Toph's tormented dreams.
The first thing Aang felt when he awoke was a numbness throughout his body. He couldn't feel anything. His brain felt dull, slow; his body heavy. With a groan he opened his eyes. Light flickered faintly, illuminating the wooden floorboards in front of him. He was lying on a thin futon, his surroundings looking eerie and unrecognizable.
What... happened? He tried to push himself up, but found that his body responded weakly. He only succeeded in flopping his arms to his sides.
"Oh, Sokka!" a familiar voice called. Suki's. Aang tried to call out, but all that came out was a gurgling. "Aang's awake!"
Footsteps could be heard as Sokka and Suki approached Aang's side. They dropped to their knees on either side of him. Aang struggled to roll his body so that he was on his back and could see both his friends clearly.
"Wrtsz wnng w'me?" Aang mumbled. He saw Sokka smile at his attempts to talk.
"Don't bother. We had to drug you. You were spasming wildly," Sokka said. He touched the choker around Aang's neck. "I think it has something to do with this. There was an awful bang, then you sort of..."
Aang's eyes widened, and he tried to grab at the choker, but failed. He shot Sokka a fearful look. Then a crescendo of thoughts occured to him. What had happened to the firebenders? Were they still there? Could they take the neckbrace off? Aang shut his eyes, attempting to defog his mind. He needed to think.
"I don't know how to take it off," Sokka continued, echoing Aang's thoughts. "I don't want to try and break it off. It might be bugged or something."
Aang let out a mangled sigh, shaking his head slightly. He needed his bending. He couldn't imagine living without it. He had people to protect, his Avatar duties to attend to. He couldn't do that without his bending!
"We should let him rest," Suki said quietly. Aang heard the two rise. Rolling over, he attempted to get back to sleep and let the drug wear off, but even as bogged down by the medicine as he was, his mind wouldn't stop. Iroh, Toph. He needed to get to them, to make sure they were okay. He needed to find Azula, to take her back to the Fire Nation. He needed to figure out who these men in black were, to find out what they wanted. He needed his bloody bending back!
Frustrated, Aang rolled over awkwardly, and found himself staring out the open door. Moonlight bathed the village in silvery light, illuminating the scorched buildings opposite the road where Aang lay. Dust and char intermingled in the breeze. A young man passed the door, gripping a limp arm as he wandered aimlessly, his expression blank. A tear fell from Aang's eye. He had been too late, too careless. He'd let these people down.
Aang shook his head. It was those firebender's fault. Their wanton destruction, killing innocent people, destroying their lives, their homes. What had that one man meant when he said "You"? They had come with a choker, one apparently specialized for blocking his bending and supressing his Avatar state. He'd never heard of such a device existing. Where had it come from? What did the men want him? Aang could think of half a dozen reasons why someone would want him dead - none of them justified - but captured? And powerless? Did they hope to torture him into doing their bidding? Questions filled Aang's drugged mind, and none of them had even the remotest of answers. But one floated to the fore of his brain, the most important to him at that moment. How would he get the choker off?
Sleep eventually took him, the calm sound of the breeze lulling him into an uneasy rest.
Sorry this one is so short. I didn't do it intentionally, I swear!
Anyhow. I'm off to finish this java program, write an English essay, and then study for a calculus midterm. Or put on Dragonball Z music and forget about it. Whichever comes first. :D