Ursa
My mother, Mina, was a stoic woman. She filled her silence with strength.
Regardless of her good nature, I came into the world screaming
Each morning, my mother ascended a mountain to visit my grandfather's shrine, the temple of Avatar Roku. My grandfather was dear friends with the great Fire Lord, Sozin. After the Avatar's death, Sozin built a temple in his memory to celebrate his service to the fire nation. Only years later, his widow (my grandmother) fell ill with pneumonia. It was an unusually cold December. In that cold winter, my grandmother struggled to maintain her weight. She shrank until she was nothing, I'm told.
My mother buried her near the shrine. My mother was only 18.
At the cusp of the mountains' spine, was the best view of Hira'a. From here, one could see our small clay homes sagging into the rocky shore. One could watch the sunrise over the sea, and the migration of dragons each year. Exceedingly rare, it was auspicious to see one in flight. On that mountain, my mother saw dozens. I still, have never seen one.
In spring, she brought wild iris. In summer, she brought sweet wine. In fall she brought a guitar, and she'd sing of the leaves turning orange. She had the most beautiful voice in the world. But, she kept to herself. At the foot of the shrine, she ate, watching the sun rise off the eastern sea sea. It was there, that time stood still.
Nothing could stop her from her daily hikes, not the weather, not my father, and not even myself.
When she was pregnant with me, she walked the same path on the ridge of the hill, over boulders and treacherous drops. My father was beside himself with worry, but every day she continued up saying, "The baby will be born strong."
His only choice in the matter was to trick her or join her, and he tried to keep her at home. He stole her shoes and she walked in sandals. He made her larger and larger breakfasts to lull her back to sleep. He would set out milk to sour. He released our small herd of goats. He tried and he tried until one day, she was simply too tired to walk. She lay bedridden for 7 days.
I was born a week later. Like a bolt of lightning, I shook and wailed. Nothing could soothe me. I was one of those children born into the world "with their eyes wide open" as mother would put it. I fussed and whined and never slept until one day my mother strapped me to her back and began to hike up the mountain.
My father was fed up with the both of us, too tired to hold her back. He simply let her go.
I grew, as she continued to march an endless pilgrimage, even as her joints wore tired and her steps grew small. I grew until, I was too heavy a burden to carry, but still too young to walk.
I always admired my mom, but I never truly understood her. There was something wild in the set of her shoulders, in her ceaseless call to the hills. I began to worry when she left us, that she'd vanish into the morning mist, like an apparition of sorts. She obviously did not. After returning home from the temple, she was always a little bit different.
She and my father lived simple lives. They bought what was necessary and made the rest.
I remember we preserved everything. We had a root cellar as large as our home, packed with rows of clay pots holding pickled vegetables, jams, wildflowers, elixirs, and wines. The smell of fermenting cabbage filled my house like an unwelcome guest. I hated my mother for that.
As a girl, I complained that I was sick of egg porridge with pickles, that we smelled the same as the fishermen (of toil and dried fish.) I wanted to smell of nothing.
In truth, I wanted to smell of flowers, and wear rouge on my lips like the city girls. I wanted the boys at my school to stop calling me "Ursa the Fish" daughter of "Mina the Witch."
That year, my mother made a balm of beetroot juice, a small tin of lip stain for my birthday. It smelled like wild iris (the most expensive perfume.) It never changed how I smelled, but in the very least I felt confident.
My father was the magistrate of Hira'a, but you would never know at first glance. He was a kind man, in earnest. He softened my mother like the sea softens broken bottles into sea glass. His position was a royal appointment, but we lived in a rural home. He worked in a modest office and took no special allowance. He worked hard, and spoke nothing of it. In that way, my parents were alike.
They are the type of people shaped by their service. They are the type of people who make sacrifices without expecting reparation. Even the boys who called me "Ursa the Fish," would come to my mother asking for a tonic that settled stomachs, or cured headaches, or healed scrapes. They would run home with jars in their arms.
As the years moved on, nothing changed but myself. Our town still had the same people, same shops, and same houses. But, I had grown tired of it all. I had outgrown my community, and began to scheme of a plan, one that would take me to Hira'a city at least.
I would be an actress.
Every girl in my school wanted to be an actress, but I felt like I was special. I had something, I just couldn't place, but I knew I had a chance.
When I told my parents of my intentions, they did not understand.
"Like a courtesan!?" My father balked.
"No dad, not like a courtesan," I shook my head in dismay.
"You are not going to maintain the temple," he asked a tenderly.
"No," I said it, and let it fall flat.
My mother held her tongue and merely nodded, and that is how it was.
That special thing that I thought I had, was only perseverance. In my final year of school, I auditioned for a play in Hira'a theater. I did not make the cut. So, I begged to help out behind the stage. I hemmed costumes, queued props, and fixed makeup. I cleaned floors, I scrubbed bathrooms, and sold tickets. I worked unpaid for a year.
When I graduated from school, I was offered my first paycheck. I rented a room in the city, from a single mother with five children. I paid close to nothing in rent. I babysat the children each day. For the theater, I worked mostly nights.
I got my first role that spring because the director liked my grit. He figured an actor that showed up 30 minutes early, was an actor who'd learn their lines. I'm proud to say, I proved him right.
I was punctual, and not half bad. He cast me again the next summer. This time, I was a side character, a step up from the ensemble role (background character.) I learned my lines fast, listened to direction, and never had a qualm about anything. You think that would be more common, but unfortunately it was an asset.
I climbed slowly, but steadily up the ranks, until I finally received lead in a promising play, "Love Amongst the Dragons." It was a romance, but a tragic one. The moment I read the script I knew it'd be big. It was. I invited my parents to the city, to see the play performed.
I often wondered what my parents thought of me, wearing makeup and singing for applause. I couldn't help feeling a little ashamed. I abandoned them to chase after my dream. I thought of my mother walking up the mountain, and I vowed to visit home soon.
What would I do as they aged? My mother wouldn't walk forever. What would I do when she grew brittle and small?
I would go home
I knew the answer, it was always there, just as my home would always be on the foot of that cliff, where the water is dark and the winters are cold.
Until then, I relented, I would live my dream. I would live my dream so that when I returned, I could say "I did it, and now I am home." I think that would make me feel whole.
My train of thought was interrupted, "Excuse me miss, are you in this play?"
"Yes," I said looking around. I was early to the first reading, but I was surely in the right spot.
"My name's Ikem, I'm the emperor"
"I thought his name was Azulon."
"What? Oh, the fire lord?"
"I guess that would make me the empress."
His mouth twisted into a wry smile.
"I guess that makes you my wife."
Author's' Note: Thank you so much for reading this chapter. I have written and rewritten "Ursa" close to 6 times now because I had so much trouble setting the tone for her character. Like most stories, the beginning is so difficult. I wanted to keep her plot subtle, but interesting. This story will follow the duel plot lines, of Ursa and Azula. I find their relationship to be the most interesting, because it is so human and flawed. I find each character to be separately interesting and I want to build on their parallels. Anyhow, I sincerely apologize for my blatant disregard of conventional grammar. I use grammar as a tool to insert pauses, breaks, and emotion. Nonetheless, I'm sure there are serious errors (please let me know in the comments!) I am a student and my schedule's a mess, but I'd love to fix what I can. It's far from perfect, but I hope you like it :D
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-Azul4