Survival of the Truest

Azula was alone in the night, and she wondered if that meant Fate was against her.

Not that she really gave much thought to Fate. It might be real, and everything was preordained, or it might just be a pleasant lie, and life was just the sum of everyone's mistakes. Either way, this particular area of philosophy wasn't especially useful. Naming Fate was simply how she expressed a more practical worry: the complete absence of guards around the Bing Rong Armors Manufacturing factory and what it signified. The night was still, the factory looked dark to the outside world, and nothing moved beneath the light of the half moon. There was no such thing as 'according to plan,' but such a major divergence from the expected scenario this early in the mission was troubling.

The last thing she need in her life was more troubles. So why was she doing this in the first place?

Azula crouched behind a large metal construct- an arrangement of girders with a flatbed in the middle and treads underneath- and went still. Her eyes scanned over the open space between her and the factory, detecting no motion. She focused on her Inner Fire, reaching within and then looping outward again to sense for any nearby heat-sources, but she felt nothing besides the great heat within the factory itself. When a breeze briefly picked up, Azula snapped forward, using the slight sound of the little wind to mask the whispers of her own movements, and reached the wall of the factory just before the air stilled once more.

She had arrived. But was that all she had accomplished? Four days ago, she had infiltrated the City Governor's office and left a written warning on his desk. She had revealed this mission- and its purpose of destroying the whole factory- and specifically requested that the building be emptied of all but a token force. Had the Governor over-reacted and cleared the building of everyone who might get hurt? Or was his over-reaction of a different nature, and this quiet was a prelude to a trap? Even if she was merely arrested, it wouldn't take long for the authorities to figure out whom Azula really was, and that was as good as a death-sentence.

She had been so careful in writing that warning, but it was possible that she had made a mistake. She had merely claimed to be working for the same cause as Aang against the local rebels, hoping to play off the rumors surrounding the White Lotus organization, but it was possible that the Governor was a member of the secret organization, and knew that there were no active agents near his city. Perhaps he had even met with Aang himself, and heard of a certain fugitive Firebender who might have interest in this particular terrorist group. It didn't even need to be Aang; Zuko was undoubtedly focused on finding her, and would have flooded the world with hunters. It could even be one of her other former (false?) friends- Mai, Toph, Katara, the Kyoshi Warriors, Ty Lee...

...Sokka...

No.

No, she was being paranoid. She had been very careful with her note, analyzing every word, making a list of all possible doubts that would occur to a politician, and specifically addressing them with a mix of logic and emotion. If anything had gone wrong there, she had merely scared the Governor a bit too much. Perhaps this wasn't even related to him. The Bing Rong Armors people might have simply made a change of schedule, having to renegotiate some contract and so halting production for a night. Maybe it was nothing more sinister than a cost-cutting measure, eliminating an expensive shift of all-night workers because the demand for product simply dried up.

And if it really was a trap of some kind, she'd very carefully continue her scouting mission, discover the truth of the situation, and make sure she got out of there with minimal damage. Too bad her compatriots weren't so interested in preserving life.

Earlier that night, Azula had walked into the warehouse that served as the team's rendezvous point and found herself only the third person to arrive. The first two were, as revealed by an old lantern of Earth Kingdom military design sitting on a short crate, Shingyung and... her.

The victim of Fate who thought she was Princess Azula.

Shingyung had smiled when Azula (the true Azula) appeared. It was not, to Azula's eyes, a pleasant smile. It was half smirk, half leer, and all condescending smugness. Thankfully, the woman kept her thoughts to herself, content to lean against one of the idle caterpillar tanks and watch. Her casual posture contrasted oddly with her obviously well cared-for purple dress.

The Victim hadn't smiled at Azula, but her expression lost some of its tightness. The face wasn't a duplicate of Azula's, but it was close enough to be disconcerting. "Hm, so punctual. You must have come immediately upon receiving our summons."

Azula inclined her head. "Those were my instructions. When I do something, I do it right."

"Well said." The Victim turned to glance at Shingyung. "I'm aware that you two know each other, but allow me to re-introduce my sworn servant, formerly 'Chijin,' now the Lady Azure. Any other names that may have once applied to her are no longer relevant."

Shingyung's eyebrows rose, and the smile perpetrated by her painted lips deepened. "Azure? Mmmmm, it tickles my sense of humor, but I'm told that my tastes are not universally shared. Perhaps you had a different joke in mind?" She stretched her neck, shaking her ponytail, but her eyes never left The Victim. "The connection between you two has grown so thick that I can taste it, in such a short time. Are you sure of what you grant her?"

The Victim crossed her arms over her chestplate. "You trusted her enough to recruit her. And you know what an excellent judge of character I am. Yet it almost sounds like you're questioning me."

"Oh, I would never question you, my exquisite, delicious Princess. Forgive me my wandering tongue. It is ever at the mercy of my emotional and spiritual tides."

The Victim turned away and rolled her eyes. "I'll take your word for it. Lady Azure, you may approach. I have a gift for you." She lifted the Earth Kingdom lantern down to the floor, giving her access to thin wooden crate on which it had been resting. The lid came off easily to reveal a series of dull objects lying in a small bed of straw.

Azula stepped forward, and the objects resolved themselves in her vision to something she was not expecting.

It was a set of armor.

It wasn't a full set, not in a box that small, but they were still good pieces. In the center was a breastplate just Azula's size, beneath it the corresponding plate for her back, and flanking them was a pair of vambraces that would cover Azula's forearms. Lying on their sides along the bottom of the display was a pair of tall boots that would almost come up to her knee. All the pieces were a dull black with a bit of red trim. There was no doubt- it was Firebender armor.

The Victim motioned at the display. "It's a poor set for the first of my new Royal Guard, but it will be much more useful on tonight's stealth mission, and it's just the start of your rewards for serving me well. But even some protection is better than none, hm?"

Azula reached out and touched the metal of the breastplate. It was cold and smooth, fairly thick but not pressing back with any great sense of weight. She knew this style of armor, she found, on two different levels. Academically, she knew it was Firebender armor, either scavenged from a full set of a soldier's issue, or else custom made to the same basic specifications. On a deeper level, though, it was familiar to her. There were echoes in her mind of its weight on her body, of experimenting with her chest bindings to achieve the most comfortable fit for the metal plates. She could recall the tremor of rock striking vambraces similar to these, of the surge of confidence that came from knowing she could trust that metal to protect her bones. She even knew, with an almost alien level of certainty, that boots such as these had even saved her life on more than one occasion.

At one point, it seemed, she had depended on Firebender armor to transform her from a little girl to a hardened warrior.

"Thank you."

The Victim nodded. "Go ahead and try it on. Shingyung will help you tie the plates if you need it."

It didn't take long to assemble. The vambraces and boots slid on and tightened easily, and Shingyung tied the plates over Azula's front and back with deft knotting. Her prediction that the armor wouldn't be any great weight was correct, especially compared to the heavy dou cuirass that was the centerpiece of the Kyoshi Warrior uniform, and having some protection again made Azula feel much better. It still wouldn't do to underestimate a knife in an opponent's hand, but now a good part of her torso was protected from common forms of attack, and that was no small thing.

The other Firebenders had arrived, while she had donned the gift. Tonight, they eschewed the full Firebender armor in which they had been clad during the previous rendezvous, wearing only select pieces underneath black robes.

And so there was only one more matter to take care of before the mission could begin. "I have the packages of flare juice here," Shingyung said, lifting one out of the hatch of the tank she had been leaning against. The main feature was what looked like a small drum, hitched up with leather straps. "The harnesses will let you carry them at the small of your back, out of the way in case you have to Firebend. Do not let them come into contact with an open flame, and try even to keep them away from great heat." She licked her lips quickly. "You won't find the results of such a mistake pleasant. I trust you all studied the instructions for assembling the packages into the bomb?"

Nods answered all around her. Azula's was the first.

"Then you're ready. Success or failure, after the mission is complete you will all scatter into the city. Make sure you aren't being followed, then check in at my place of business within the next week. I will have further instructions for you."

Azula quirked an eyebrow. "You're not coming?"

Shingyung actually gave a little giggle at that. "Oh no, this mission doesn't make use of gifts I have come to express. But don't worry, I'll be keeping an eye on you."

Azula wondered which "you" she meant.

Now, crouched up against the double-door entrance of the Bing Rong factory, Azula shut her eyes tightly and summoned a small candle-sized flame from her fingers. She immediately put it out, but it served its purpose. Anyone watching would see the brief flash of light in the heavy darkness, and the only ones watching were supposed to be the rest of her team.

Azula didn't need to look at her fire to know that it wouldn't be blue. For now, that was a helpful failing.

The Victim and her Firebenders soon materialized in the moonlight. They all crouched around the door with Azula, and The Victim herself leaned over close to talk. "All clear?"

Azula's reply was a barely audible whisper. "So far. Once we get this unlocked, you can guard the entrance, and I'll start searching the inside." At a nod from The Victim, one of the Firebenders stepped forward and raised a fist. Azula averted her eyes so as not to ruin her night vision. The Firebender gave a sharp exhalation, and Azula heard a loud flame spring into existence. It didn't shed much light, but the noise increased when it was applied to the door's lock. Soon enough, the flame winked out of existence, and Azula turned back to view the scene.

The door had a neat little hole right where the lock had been, the metal still glowing with heat. Azula's eyebrows rose. "That must have been a hot flame."

The Firebender nodded. "I used to work in the navy's shipyards, constructing warships. We all learn to bend flames that can cut metal. It can take a lot out of you, but this little lock didn't hold up long."

Interesting. Azula could make use of a skill like that. Perhaps she could ask to be taught the technique, if she couldn't figure it out herself. She had no reason to be especially wary of this Firebender (she certainly wasn't interested in his name yet), but Azula wanted to keep her skillset as secret as possible. "Good to know. I'll signal when I've cleared out this immediate area of the building. Then the other scouts can sweep in."

The factory was large and distressingly empty. Where was the expected night shift?

As Azula moved through the building, the only real obstacle she encountered was the lack of light. The factory itself was massive, with most of its space given to the Molten Room at the center, with various smaller spaces surrounding it. The liquid metal would be poured into molds in the main chamber, allowed to cool, then shifted to various docking stations along the periphery. Azula and company could have used one of those to gain entrance, but the doors there were large enough that their being opened would attract more attention.

Azula thoroughly investigated those docking bays and assembly chambers, clearing each one as empty and leaving a Firebender guard to keep it that way. She saw piles of heavy armor plates, stacks of swords and knives, and even crates of small metal pieces that would be assembled into machinery at their eventual destination. She was reminded of how Sokka so enjoyed tinkering with engineering, and recalled how happy he had been when he showed her a new screwdriver set he had been given by the Mechanist of the Northern Air Temple. That was the second to last time he visited her before...

Well, before his lies were laid bare.

Azula shivered and moved on.

She met up with the rest of the team at the beginning of the hallway leading to the Molten Room. It was the only room without a door, and the only one that wasn't left in darkness. It was the place where all the metal was melted down and poured, and it glowed with the heat of its perpetual fires. As always, Fire was the ultimate source of all kinds of death and destruction, an intrinsic part of making the tools of war.

The Victim clasped her hands behind her back and gave them one last briefing. "This is where we will place the bomb. We must be very careful not to put the containers of flare juice anywhere near a hot surface in there. We have to be quick, as the drums containing the fuel will start to degrade in the heat of the air itself, but it will last long enough for us to get out of the building and a good distance away. Once it has captured enough energy, the exposed flare juice will combust, and the explosion will be enough to collapse the building. Any questions?" No one said anything. "Then let's finish this. Azure, you'll take point. Give me your drum, and then do a sweep of the room while we take care of things."

Azula had to stop herself from hesitating as she unclasped the container from her back and handed it over to The Victim. So that was it, then. The factory was empty, and she was going to be complicit in its destruction unless she did something to prevent it in the next few minutes. She would have to betray this woman who wore Azula's identity like a comforting shawl, and give up her chance to investigate the truth of her own past.

Disappointingly, it wasn't a choice at all. Let this temple to conflict and toil burn. Forget the loss of jobs for people who needed them, or that it might hurt the well-being of the entire city. Azula needed to know what had been done to her, to her memory. Really, though, it might be the more merciful choice.

If Azula wasn't occupied with this quest of hers, what worse atrocities might she find herself committing?

The Victim must have seen something in Azula's face as the drum of flare juice changed hands. She leaned forward and whispered, "Something wrong?"

"No, nothing." Azula looked her doppelganger in the eyes. "It just seems too easy."

The Victim quirked an eyebrow. "The mission, or the crime we're about to commit?" Azula blinked in surprise at the observation, and The Victim gave her a slight smile in return. "It's always frightening, committing to an ambition and cause that's so much larger than you. It requires trust, but of course people like us don't trust anymore. Perhaps, someday, you'll be able to fully trust in me. For now, though, it's a matter of survival. We can't let the former colonies become tools of those who would destroy us, so we must destroy their base of power first. Are you ready?"

Azula took a deep breath, nodded, and moved into the factory's heart of fire.

The group went cautiously down the hallway, following the pipes latched to the ceiling and walls, and emerged into the Molten Room. The center was given to the tall vats of liquid metal, still leaving large swaths of floor space as a perimeter where Azula supposed all the pouring and molding was done. More vats hung from the ceiling on chains, still full of their glowing and smoking cargo. It would have been too expensive to cool and heat the metal every day, so the fires lived forever and the metal was allowed to bubble and swirl through the night. A series of wide windows stretched across each wall just below the ceiling, but any moonlight they let in was lost in the room's red glow.

Azula remained on the ground floor while the others ascended a nearby flight of metal stairs to the catwalk sprawled above the whole room. As she followed their progress from below, The Victim led her Firebenders to a cluster of large pipes on the opposite side of the room from the entrance. They began piling up their drums of flare juice while Azula continued on her patrol and rounded the next corner, putting the tall vats of molten metal on her left. She eyed the catwalks above, wary of spies or unnoticed guards, or any kind of hidden trouble.

Of course, when it appeared, it would emerge from right behind her.

There was a loud clank just to her rear, and Azula spun to find a group of people in green jogging around the corner along the same path her patrol had followed. One in the lead was drawing a kunai blade from his belt, and a quick glance toward the source of the earlier sound revealed another one of the projectiles on the floor just near Azula. His first attack must have missed, and now-

Azula hopped closer to the vat so that it would provide her some cover and threw a stream of fire at her attackers to scatter them. The heat was nearly choking, but she focused her breathing and tried to draw strength from all the energy, even as another kunai clanged off the vat to her right. Once she was sure she could speak again, she took a deep breath and shouted, "Guards are here! I'll cover you!" She took a hard stance and began punching fireballs at the attackers in a wide spread that would hopefully keep them from mounting another charge. As they made a small retreat, she noted that they were wearing uniforms, green and gray in color with the rounded helmets of Earth Kingdom soldiers, but all of a different style than Azula had ever seen before. Must be a private security force, then, but had the Governor contracted them, or the factory owners?

One of the men pushed forward between her fireballs and yanked his fists into the air. A piece of the floor at his feet broke off- it was too hard and heavy to simply twist and shape like softer stone and dirt- and stood up like a wall in front of him. Azula's fireballs bounced harmlessly off of it; it wasn't surprising since the material was probably expected to withstand even the touch of liquid metal. Some of the other soldiers ran over to cluster behind the wall, and Azula knew she couldn't let them gather, especially if there were more Earthbenders in the group. Good thing she had a tactic for dealing with this. Back on Kyoshi Island, she had managed to put together a method of shooting long-range firebombs, and the teachings she received from the Firebender sailor Meisai had helped her refine the technique.

Azula sank into a bow stance, flung herself forward, and swung her fists at a very precise angle with a very precise amount of force. Fire gathered in the swirling paths her fists followed and coalesced into a fireball. It was flung out by its own momentum and sailed in a perfect parabola towards the entrenched soldiers, landing just behind the wall and exploding across the uniformed men. Azula heard a chorus of voices cry out, but only some of the soldiers tumbled away with embers falling of their uniforms without igniting. Azula performed another leaping lob attack, but before the next fireball struck, there was deep-throated roar and the wall lifted up to form a roof over the rest of the gathered soldiers. The Earthbender managed to hold it in place even as Azula's fireball fell onto the stone and then he lost the balance-

-the fireball half skipped, half bounced off the tipping stone slab and its path shifted up and back towards the rear catwalk-

-the damaged fireball broke apart into a thousand tongues of flame as it rained amongst the Firebenders on the catwalk who tried to block a figure and stack of drums nestled within machinery and piping-

-The Victim's voice yelled out for someone to keep that fire away-

-and then the room was overcome by even more light and heat, and the air itself reached out to punch Azula off her feet and slam her to the ground.

It only took a second for Azula to clear her head, but it was even harder to breathe, and when she looked up again, the entire scene had changed. Fire was everywhere, somehow clinging to the stone walls and vats and even the ceiling. Most of the flames were clustered at the rear of the room, the very spot where the bomb had been in the process of being assembled, but the catwalk there was just gone.

The flare juice.

It had ignited, but it hadn't been properly pooled and heated so the explosion hadn't fully consumed it. The juice was what was clinging to the walls and burning. It must be sticky, and would take a while to fully burn out, shedding massive amounts of heat the whole time. It wouldn't be long before the air itself could burn skin, unless all of the oxygen in the room was consumed first. Azula frantically searched the area with her gaze, ignoring the soldiers who were fleeing the uncontrollable flames, heedless even of her own safety.

She was looking for one particular person who wasn't there, but she had to be okay, Azula had promised to save her, and she-

-she-

A small figure dashed out of the center of the flames.

She was screaming in a way no human should have been capable of, and she was covered in clinging fire.

Azula didn't even think. Over the course of a single second, she steadied her breathing, focused on her Inner Fire, meditated on the room around her with the flame that was spread all over it, and extended her spirit. Then she reached out her hands, aimed her willpower at the burning woman still running across the floor, and yanked.

The fires on the woman immediately snuffed out.

That wasn't all that happened.

Sergeant Gua of the Pointed Vengeance Free Company hadn't liked this mission from the start. He may have been a soldier of fortune by trade, but he was as professional as any national servant in the three nations, and so mistrusted any mission that prevented him from eliminating the enemy as directly and efficiently as possible. All other considerations were political, and politics always got soldiers killed. Always. It's why Gua fought for money. Money was simple, and even politics bowed to money. It wasn't supposed to be any of this, "Be sure not to kill either of the women whose faces match this sketch," or, "Try to limit collateral damage to the building," or other such ridiculousness. But it was a complicated world, these days, and politics were an increasing source of possible income, especially in the former colonies.

So here he was in this factory that might well have supplied swords and machines to the Fire Nation soldiers he killed during the war, now trying to stop Firebender agitants from blowing up. That was the new world order for you.

The situation had deteriorated from there.

The Company had followed the terrorists into the building, managed to ambush them successfully, and begun to engage one of the secondary objective women- she looked just like the sketch supplied by their employer- hoping to scare her into a retreat, but she had done something and there was an explosion and now the whole mudding room was on fire! So much for limiting collateral damage. The flames were feeding off of something that just wouldn't burn out and put out a lot of heat, so Gua couldn't see either of the secondary objective women anymore, and his people were scattered all around, shouting with a complete lack of discipline.

Could this get any worse?

Then all the flames stilled their chaotic movement, pulsing slowly and in perfect time with each other.

They had also turned a bright blue color.

This? This was probably not good.

That was his last thought before a young woman dashed across his line of vision, and when Gua reflexively raised his hands to start an attack, an azure fireball exploded in his face.

Azula ran through the inferno of blue flames and didn't even notice how they pulsed in time with her breathing. All she had eyes for was the young woman lying on the floor ahead of her. She scarcely even registered the other people she passed. They could have been the Firebenders who she led into the factory, or the uniformed soldiers who ambushed her, or even some other group of people who had appeared unnoticed on the scene in the last minute. Azula didn't care. If they were in her way, she attacked. She punched fireballs, kicked waves of flame, and called the fires on the walls to leap to her aid.

She was only vaguely aware that the flames were the same color as a beautiful tropical sea on a sunny day.

She reached The Victim and skidded to a halt beside the crumpled body. It smelled of nauseating odors, but above it all rose a sharp chemical scent, most likely the flare juice. Azula was careful not to touch the sticky patches on The Victim's armor, and not to jostle her too much. She hadto be alive. If she was alive, Azula would carry her out of here, find a healer or something, get the burns treated, and then The Victim would be okay. Maybe while she recuperated Azula could try to find out who the woman really was. Return her to her true life. Azula crouched beside the woman who bore her identity, and turned her so that the full extent of the injuries could be assessed-

Oh.

Oh Kyoshi.

The Victim-

The burns were all over. The top of her head, part of her face, her arms... all covered in swaths of... awfulness. The armor didn't even shift over The Victim's body when she was moved, almost as if they were stuck in place. Azula swallowed and tried to force herself to look at the burns that were visible but- but-

It was easier to just see what was gone.

All her hair.

Large swathes of skin.

An ear.

Both hands.

It was bad. Very bad. But she would survive. She had to survive. Azula knew it, knew it like she knew that she was the one true Azula. The Victim would survive. She had to.

But first, both she and Azula had to get out of the burning building. There was no way The Victim would be walking out, even if she could be woken up, never mind fighting her way through mysterious soldiers who were probably gathering and rallying down the hall, between the Molten Room and the factory's main door. Even Azula alone might have trouble fighting her way through that gauntlet. And yet, she would have to, and there was also no denying that she would have to do it while carrying The Victim. Back when she was Suki, Azula had trained in how to carry the wounded off of a battlefield, and she knew she could support The Victim's weight, but fighting while doing so would be impossible against real warriors. If she tried it, she would die. There was no question about that.

The only reasonable thing to do was leave The Victim to burn to death, and escape.

That's what Princess Azula would have done. She would have left this mysterious woman to die in her place, wearing the burned remnants of her face.

Azula stood there, and managed to ponder that for a full second before she crouched and reached, lifted The Victim up by the armpits to a standing position, and pulled the other woman's body up over her shoulders. It took a great effort to stand up again with the full weight of The Victim pushing down on her, but Azula didn't even contemplate giving up. The first step was the hardest, but the next two weren't any fun, either. Azula had convinced herself that walking was getting easier when a high-pitched metal groan echoed through the whole room. It didn't take her long to trace the source of the sound.

The vats of molten metal that hung from the ceiling were ready to come down. The premature detonation of the bomb might have left the building's structure intact, but the impact, concussion, and extra heat were having a detrimental effect on the support chains. Still glowing orange, the lava-like substance had not submitted to Azula's control like the inferno that was the rest of the room, and now was looking to strike back. With a crack, the first chain broke and the vat that hung from it plunged down toward Azula, tipping and spilling liquid metal as it fell. Azula suddenly found the strength to start running, even with The Victim weighing her down, but it seemed to be a futile effort. Her legs simply could not propel the weight of two bodies fast enough to escape the rain of death. The glowing globules would melt their way through skin and bone, and the threat of "Princess Azula" would end here forever.

But The Victim had never wanted to be Princess Azula.

With an exhalation that was half yell and half battle cry, Azula pumped her legs with a newfound strength and pushed her body's energy down to her feet. Blue light and heat exploded from beneath her boots, propelling her with the power of a Fire Festival rocket.

Waves of liquid metal fell around and behind her, but none touched her.

Azula reacted to the glowing hazards with the speed of lightning, dodging and swerving and even ducking to avoid them. The azure fire kept streaming from beneath her feet even as other chains broke and more vats of molten metal fell and crashed into the vats on the ground, tipping them over, so she kept in motion until she realized that she had run out of room. A burning wall loomed in front of her, crowned by the line of windows that reflected the glare of the inferno like a demon sun. Azula would have to turn back towards the spilling lava or crash.

But the fire jetting from her boots seems so strong, so Azula figured, 'Eh, why not?' She reached a section of wall where the catwalk had been blown away, gave a small hop, and just ran up the side of the wall.

Azula's lips quirked into a smile for the first time all night.

The line of windows were up ahead, just before the ceiling, and for extra luck, it seems they had already been cracked when the bomb went off. Azula ran on, the azure flames that came from the slow-burning flare juice spatter parting before her, sparing her harm like loyal children. Just before she reached the windows, she reared back her head, and then snapped it forward to spit a fireball directly into the pane of glass in front of her. Just like spitting seeds back on Kyoshi Island. It was all working out quite well. She would escape mostly unharmed, get The Victim to a hospital or something to find her help, and get to the bottom of this mystery that was her life.

Azula reached the windows, threw herself forward into a spinning jump that took her cleanly through the broken glass, and-

-and realized that she was up in the air as high as the factory's roof and couldn't fly.

Unagi breath.

She had just enough time to twist in midair so that she would cushion The Victim's landing when the ground came up to meet her and everything very suddenly went black.

It turned out that the annoying sounds bringing Azula to wakefulness were human voices. They were gruff, male, and very angry.

"Both are in a bad way. What do we do with them?"

"Kill them!"

"No, these are the girls from the sketch!"

"Kill them anyway! They killed the sarge, and Wang, and Oshu-"

"We kill them, we don't get paid!"

"That one lit the sarge's face on fire!"

Azula swallowed a groan, and tried to open her eyes. Her whole body was in a state of pain beyond anything she had ever felt before. Not that her memory could really be trusted, but it certainly felt true right now. She tried to move, but that just made things worse, and she couldn't stop a soft cry from escaping her lips. Her vision returned slowly, but everything was tinted an orange color, and shadows flickered across the scene. Oh, that's right, the factory was burning. The fires must have reverted to their natural color when she did a stupid and crashed herself unconsciousness. The way she felt now, she didn't think she could bring even a small candle flame to life.

That would likely be a problem, considering that she was surrounded by a group of those soldiers from the factory.

They continued arguing. Azula tried to speak, to tell them that they could do whatever they wanted to her if only they would get healing for The Victim, but her voice would project no louder than a dull whisper. They ignored her, and one of the soldiers even drew a sword.

That's when a walking shadow emerged from the dark of the night and rammed a spike-like arm into the swordsman's chest. The other soldiers cried out in surprise, and weapons were drawn. One even ripped a small boulder out of the ground, but it was all futile. The walking shadow flowed like water through their ranks, batting aside weapons with limbs that looked like spiked talons one moment and whipping tendrils the next. It struck efficiently and mercilessly, cutting down the soldiers one- two- three at once. Azula's sense of time didn't feel quite right, but it was over in what seemed like just a handful of seconds.

Once it was alone, the shadow shrank down into a shape that could have almost been human and stepped into the light of the burning factory.

Azula's jaw dropped. It was Shingyung.

And she was wearing four waterskinslooped over her stupid purple dress.

Shingyung moved immediately over to Azula and crouched next to her. "Oh my, you've battered that exquisite body of yours quite a bit. Hold still while I restore what nature intended for you to be." She raised her hands, and a simple movement summoned a stream of water out of one of the waterskins to cover her palms. The water lit up with a blue shine that was both just like Azula's fire and completely different. Shingyung moved her hands over Azula's head, and the thudding pain retreated to leave an icy clarity-

"No," shrieked Azula. "Heal the Princess! She's been burned, she needs healing quickly!"

Shingyung turned her head to the side, then back to Azula. "Have you looked at her? There's nothing I can do. I need to focus on you right now so that we get remove ourselves before more trouble arrives-"

"Help her! Do it now or I will burn your stupid face off!"

Shingyung was still for a long moment. The water on her hands dulled, but stayed in place. "Very well. In this, as in all things, I am your servant." She stood up, and moved off to the side. The blue glow picked up again, but Azula couldn't see what was going on. She pushed herself up off the ground, but even though her head felt slightly clearer, her body still screamed with pain at the movement. Azula took a moment to catch her breath, and powered on through the hurt. She dragged herself in the direction of the healing light, and found Shingyung moving her water-covered hands over The Victim's body.

It didn't look like anything was happening.

Eventually, Shingyung leaned back and let the now-tainted water splash to the ground. "There isn't even any pain to relieve. Her burns are so deep that they ate her body's ability to feel anything. I imagine she feels like she's wrapped in ice right now. And I certainly can't grow back an ear or her hands." She looked over at Azula and met her eyes unflinchingly. "Her life will expire in moments. I will waste no more water on her."

Expire?

She was dying?

But-

But she couldn't die.

Azula had to save her.

She-

She had to-

Azula felt herself whimper.

She continued to pull herself across the ground, until she was right next to The Victim. She was crumpled up, not unlike how she had been just after Azula had put out the flames on her body, back inside. The smell was awful, but at least the low light hid the depth of the burns. Azula reached out a hand, and brushed The Victim's face. So like her own, yet different in all the ways that mattered.

The Victim's eyes fluttered. One of the lids only opened halfway, but the other eye sought around. "Who's there?"

Azula swallowed back a need to sob. "It's me. Azure. Your friend."

The good eye closed again. The other remained in its broken, halfway state. "D- don't... leave..."

"I won't." Azula would have held her hand, but her hands were gone, burned clean through by the flare juice. Instead, Azula brushed The Victim's face again, so gently. She would have saved this woman, but barring that, she would do whatever she could to make her passing as comfortable as possible. "What was your name?"

The eye fluttered again. "...Az... ul..."

Azula squeezed her own eyes shut. "No. Your real name. I know that they made you be Azula, but you're free now. They can't force you, anymore. It's okay. I'll be Azula for you, now."

The other was silent for a long time, long enough that Azula began to wonder if she had gone. Then she took in a sharp breath, and said, "I... Joo Dee?"

"I need to know how to mourn. Tell me. Tell me your original name, the name I will never, ever forget. Then you can rest."

The good eye opened again, and the other even lifted to match it. Both eyes moved to grasp Azula's own gaze, and her voice rose in strength. "...Mianju. I... used to be... Mianju."

"That's a good name, Mianju." Azula leaned down, and kissed The Victim- no, Mianju. Beautiful, tragic, Mianju- on her unburned cheek. "I'm sorry you had to be me, but you can sleep now. Go and find peace."

And then the woman Mianju, known for a time as Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, gave one last shuddering breath and died.

TO BE CONTINUED