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Chapter 11: Alone
"You're leaving?"
Azula checked her nails. Every single one filed to a perfect point, as always. "That is what I said. Or is it when I speak, you only hear gibberish, Zirin?"
Zirin stared back at her, where they stood among the trees away from the others, at the very edge of camp. Zirin and the others had all been restless recently—no surprise. Azula had broken them free from the very mental institution in which Zuzu had kept her, and so they were mostly the daughters of powerful lords, used to every comfort and luxury, and not at all accustomed to camping out in the woods. Even the hard crypt near the palace must have seemed preferable to this.
Zirin's eyes narrowed, but she didn't explode. Zirin might have had a temper—but she could keep it in check, when she wanted to.
"Where are you going?" she asked at last. "What are you going to do?"
"That's none of your concern," Azula said lightly. "However, Zirin, there is something I would like you to do for me—once I'm gone, and after the others are recaptured, as I'm sure they no doubt will be without my help. Just a little favor."
"A favor," Zirin repeated, suspicious.
"Yes," Azula said with a smile. She glanced cursorily back toward the camp, where the others lounged about, snapping at one another like gatorcrabs. "Just think of it as repayment—after all, I've prepared a place for you, where you will be safe to hide out for months. Sadly there aren't enough provisions for all of you, but you have always been my favorite..."
Zirin eyed her with doubt, as though unsure if Azula actually intended her to believe that last part. Azula had to resist the urge to sigh. How often she missed Mai and Ty Lee these days—they had both understood everything Azula said without needing to have it explained. With these girls, it was often hit and miss. Whether, when she said that her plans would benefit all of them, they knew she actually meant they would benefit her, and it was simply to their disadvantage not to go along. Whether they understood that, when she tolerated their backtalking, she was simply giving them a bit of slack in the reins, as she often did with Mai and Ty Lee, and that the consequences of truly displeasing her would be—uncomfortable.
However, Zirin, ever the scowling miasma of mistrust, seemed of this bunch to understand Azula's language most often. Which was why Azula had finally settled on her for this most important of tasks.
"What do you want, Azula?" Zirin asked, eyes narrowed.
Azula's eyes drifted toward the camp again. But of course they all only continued to bicker, and were too far away to overhear, even if they had been clever enough to detect there was something worth overhearing. Smiling, Azula leaned close, to whisper in the girl's ear...
"...waste of time."
Azula blinked, coming back to the present.
She was staring down at the water, and for an instant, she thought she saw a face that wasn't hers. She looked away sharply.
It was chilly in the expansive cavern, though that was mostly because of the disc of ice on which they sat. The water of the cavern lake sloshed against it, and every so often Tulok would wave a hand to add to it, to ensure it didn't melt. They never touched the earth, of course—while Azula didn't know the exact range of the blind girl's earth senses, which seemed to let her see anything touching the ground, she figured it was best to be safe.
The others—all except Nukka, who stood separate a little distance away, practicing her waterbending as she often did—were shooting surreptitious glances back at her over their shoulders, muttering in low voices. Some looked toward the cave mouth, where the sky was beginning to darken and night would soon fall, then back to her.
"Yes?" said Azula at last, with a hint of impatience. "Is there something you all want to say?"
Panuk cleared his throat nervously, but Kanaak folded his arms and turned to face her, still sitting cross-legged on the ice.
"This is a waste of time," he repeated. "We're just going in circles. We're like—puffin-seals running from polar leopards. I hate running."
Azula sighed, wondering why she kept having to have the same conversation over and over—it had been the same with Zirin and the others. She'd never had to repeat herself with Mai and Ty Lee.
Resisting the urge to speak very slowly—primitive brains might have benefited from simpler language, but inconveniently they were also easily offended—Azula said, "We must wait them out until the next full moon. Or do you wish to fight the Fire Lord, the Avatar, and all his bending masters without it?"
Kanaak grumbled. "We don't even know if they'll try to fight us on the full moon. If they were smart, they'd just hide out somewhere and wait for it to pass."
"They want to find us," said Azula. "They've been unsuccessful so far. It's been over two weeks now, they're likely getting frustrated, and desperate."
Azula had chosen the site on which they would lead the Avatar and his friends on this merry chase with care. The northern Earth Kingdom was a mountainous region, in which it was easy to hide and evade. The small villages along the northern coast had also been a good place to sow rumors, so that her brother would know they were there, and wouldn't go far, still entertaining the hope they might still catch them.
But what made the land most perfect for this little game was not what was above it, but beneath. According to locals, the coast had once been flooded in an underhanded attack from the Northern Water Tribe, something about a trading dispute—apparently the world before her great-great-grandfather had declared war on it was not so peaceful as many would like to believe. The many underground tunnels, some natural, some created by earthbenders, had been flooded, and while most of the water had drained away over time, the rivers and streams connected in a nearly continuous web that spread for miles under the surface. The perfect place to stay within range of Zuko and the Avatar, while staying invisible, both to them and the blind earthbending girl.
Azula continued, "They know we will be most likely to show ourselves on the night of the full moon. If it is their only way to find us—well, I think they will choose not to hide."
Osuk hunched his shoulders, glaring at the ground. "Will we really be able to beat them?" he muttered. "The Avatar, the Fire Lord, and… that girl."
Azula paused, glancing his way. The boy had always had a pragmatic streak, careful, never overconfident, as their idiot companion Kanaak could be. But she had been detecting a different undercurrent to his concern these days. Knowing the boy had a previous connection to the girl, however distant it might have been, presented a complication. It was easier to inspire hate of those they knew nothing, than for someone they knew directly. The weak-minded fools.
Azula looked at each of them in turn, as they all gazed back at her. Even Nukka, who once again had been spreading her hands as she practiced her ice slide—she hated having to ride with the others, unable to reliably move on her own—had paused to watch. Azula considered her next words carefully.
"I won't say it will be easy," Azula said. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to give up now, and return home."
Nukka's expression darkened. She turned toward where they sat, still on her feet. "And let them get away with everything they've done? Everything they've—destroyed?"
Osuk answered, "But what do you think we should do? We aren't strong enough to fight them all. The bison alone would probably take at least three or four of us to handle, same with the girl. And then there's still the others."
Nukka scowled, though she didn't seem to have a ready response. The others shifted restlessly—even Kanaak seemed uncertain, having the situation laid out so starkly.
Azula coughed, drawing their attention again. "I said it wouldn't be easy, not impossible. Sometimes strategy is more important than power." She reached into a pocket sewn inside her parka, and produced a small vial. "You're right about the bison—which is why I procured a potent paralyzing serum to use. The others will be too small and agile for it to be much use on them, but I think it ought to work just fine on such a large target. There should also be a nonbender boy among them, which we may be able to use as a weak link to exploit. As for the girl—"
She looked directly at Osuk, and he met her gaze, though reluctantly. "Don't feel too sorry for her. She may have fought the ashmakers before, but that was before they granted her status and power. Don't forget what the ashmakers have destroyed—the mothers and fathers and children dead, the homes burned, the waterbenders left broken by unimaginable horrors. She protects them from paying for their crimes."
Their gazes dropped away from her, Osuk too, though she sensed a shift from them. No longer fear or uncertainty, but shame. Shame of the injustice they may allow to continue, if they didn't have the courage to act.
Only the girl Nukka didn't look away, as though drinking in the words. There were still times Azula had the sense the girl hadn't completely banished the suspicion—that the Water Tribe girl had been telling the truth about Azula. And yet, Azula always said exactly what she wanted to hear. The stories of Fire Nation brutalities, the treachery of those of the other nations now working for the Fire Lord. She thrived on hate—that was what made her bloodbending the strongest of all.
"As for her strength," said Azula, "well, how about I tell you another story? So that you all too may continue to grow stronger."
Panuk regarded her with round eyes, somehow both apprehensive and excited. Nukka stopped her waterbending practice entirely, coming to kneel nearby. Osuk looked away, frowning, but was soon eying her again, not quite able to fully curb his curiosity.
Azula resisted the urge to smile to herself. This was one part of the disguise where she didn't have to lie. Of course, these irksome waterbenders were only one part of her plan—she had more than one iron in the fire. She would succeed in fulfilling her promise, and make Zuko into the Fire Lord he was always meant to be. She would succeed, as she always did.
"Then let me give you another story from the Southern raids. The things that were done, that which we lost, that the ashmakers still boast of to this day…"
The walls seemed to close in around her. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do. Nothing but to think of the anger, the pain. That had to be the worst part of betrayal—no one waiting for her, no one to tell her to keep fighting. No one to fight for.
She sat in the cramped space, alone, waiting for help that would never come...
Suki jolted awake. Instantly her hands shot out to either side of her, expecting to find walls—but they met only air.
As Suki's eyes adjusted to the darkness, the outline of the familiar simple furnishings of her room in the Fire Nation palace resolved themselves.
Suki breathed deeply, steadying herself, before she pulled back the silk blanket and got up.
Suki made her way down the long, expansive corridor. She felt strange going out of her room without her makeup and armor, but she needed to be outside, to see the sky.
It was just past midday and the sun shone bright overhead. Suki sucked in a deep breath, savoring the fresh air as she made her way across the courtyard. As she passed through the gate, several guards gave a salute of respect which, forcing a halfhearted smile, she returned.
Suki didn't know exactly where she was going until she found herself at the entrance to the royal gardens, where the intruders had escaped. That was the problem with securing the palace and its grounds—there was just so much area to cover. The Fire Nation had the manpower, but too many guards assigned to one area tended to make them less vigilant rather than more, all assuming the others would spot anything unusual.
Inside she knew the place was still being cleaned up from the attack. Yi Lian would probably be there, patrolling, providing daytime guard support. For a moment, Suki was tempted to go find her—Yi Lian always had a way of listening that, by the time Suki finished describing a problem, the answer had already presented itself, with Yi Lian never having had to say a word. She would smile and nod, as though she had known the solution all along, but also knew any sister of hers could find it on their own.
However, soon Suki's feet were carrying her on, passing by the closed doors. At a time like this was when she ought to go find her sisters, talk to them—but to do that, she had to have an idea of what she would say. And her mind couldn't seem to quite form the words, even to herself.
Suki found herself instead at the entry doors to another courtyard. She had been here often on patrols—it was a quiet little place that didn't see much use anymore, though the groundkeepers still kept it well maintained, trimming the plants and cleaning up the apples that fell from one of the trees when it was in season. She always thought of it as the dragon courtyard, because of the intricate dragon statue on top of the fountain at its center.
With no particular destination in mind, Suki pushed in the doors. She often thought it was a shame there were so many places like this around the palace like this that went unused, but they made for nice places to escape to when she wanted to be alone. Or—when her mind was in that strange place where she couldn't think of what else to do, but be alone, to sort through the thoughts she couldn't yet understand.
Inside was the familiar, spacious grounds, the two trees placed on opposite sides of the walk of interlocking dark stone. The apple tree had begun to blossom, but it would be some months before it would bear fruit. Water as ever fell over the edge of the fountain lip in a soothing murmur, while the dragon statue stood on top. Perhaps Suki was only imagining it, but she had always thought the dragon had a lazy look to it, eying any who entered the garden with supreme disdain.
Suki had expected to find the place deserted, but as her eyes drifted down to the watery curtain just below the dragon's feet, she realized there was a figure standing there, back to her.
Suki's hand automatically went toward the fans she had tucked into her waistband. However, the tall, willowy shape and dark clothing was familiar, and after a moment, she relaxed. She considered turning and leaving the way she had come—she still wasn't sure she wanted to talk to anyone, even less so if it wasn't one of her sisters. However, perhaps a distraction might not be a bad idea. Curiosity getting the better of her, she approached.
"Mai?" she said. "What are you doing out here?" She wanted to ask why, after all the grief Mai had always given Zuko about not keeping his guards closer in dangerous times, why she, a noble and friend of the Fire Lord, wasn't with any guards of her own. However, Mai had always struck Suki as someone who hadn't the slightest shame at keeping double standards.
Mai turned to regard Suki over one shoulder. Instead of answering the question, she said in her usual deadpan, "So. That's what you look like."
Suki glanced down at herself briefly, her light fold-over tunic and pants. "What do you mean? You've seen me without my makeup and armor before."
"Have I?" Mai's eyes slipped away, bored.
"Yes, back when..." Suki frowned, trying to think. At last she shook her head. "Well... sometime."
"That's specific."
Suki studied Mai for a moment. She had always done her best to support Zuko and Mai when they had been together—perhaps a little too much, given her nosy interference had been at least partially to blame for splitting them up in the first place. But in truth she didn't always know what Zuko saw in Mai. Mai had Sokka's sarcasm, but without the warmth or real humor—often it cut like her knives. But then, maybe Mai could be different around Zuko, at least when they were alone.
"What are you doing out here?" Suki asked again.
Mai shrugged irritably. "Thinking, mostly. Trying… to decide." Before Suki could ask anything more about this cryptic comment, she eyed Suki over her shoulder again. "What about you? Aren't you supposed to be resting or something?"
Suki blinked, the corner of her mouth turning down. "Did Ty Lee tell you that?"
Mai rolled her eyes toward the fountain. "I don't need Ty Lee's magic aura-reading to see when someone's eyes look like a panda-racoon."
Suki touched the spot beneath one eye self-consciously, then frowned. However, after a moment, she looked away. "I just want to make sure the palace is safe while Zuko is away. It's hard to do that if I'm asleep. Besides—" She stopped herself. Sleeping also meant nightmares, but she doubted Mai wanted to hear about that, and she wasn't sure she wanted to share it. Mai was the last person to go to for support or sisterly affection.
Mai, however, turned to regard her with a sharp-eyed keenness. "You're the captain of the Fire Lord's personal guard," she said. "If you don't sleep, it's going to be a problem for all of us." She tugged idly at the wrist of one of her black gloves and, looking supremely uninterested, added, "I guess if you absolutely need to talk to someone, you can talk."
Suki, in spite of herself, had to bite back a laugh. Mai's form of comfort was about as warm and inviting as a night on the docks without a blanket. And yet—as her mind returned to the dream again, the cold walls on every side, she couldn't see herself talking to any of her sisters, as she should. They had been in prison for longer than she had, but they had all been together, and they had met Ty Lee. She had never quite been able to bring herself to talk about that time with them. She had decided that time was over and done with, and she had done everything she could to keep it that way.
Any levity fading, Suki heard herself say, "Mai, can I… ask you something? A personal question."
Mai regarded her silently, hands still folded in sleeves.
Suki stared at the fountain, the curtain of water tumbling down, splashing in the shallow pool. "After you helped us at the Boiling Rock, and Azula imprisoned you... what... happened?"
The cloth of one of Mai's sleeves rustled. She didn't answer.
Suki rushed on, "Were you also with Ty Lee? She was with my Warriors, and—well…"
When Mai still didn't reply, Suki chanced a brief look her way, before dropping her eyes back to the fountain, wishing she hadn't asked. She opened her mouth to apologize, but then Mai finally spoke.
"No," she said abruptly. "No, Azula separated us."
Suki looked back up, and Mai continued, "As nobles, normally we would have been given our own cells, with every comfort. Instead she placed us with war prisoners from the other nations. Not only did we have to eat like they did, half spoiled meat and moldy vegetables, but you can imagine what happens to Fire Nation nobles when the other nations get their hands on them."
"That sounds awful," Suki said cautiously.
The corner of Mai's mouth twitched, in the hint of a smile for the first time. "Well, turns out Azula underestimated Ty Lee's ability to make friends with anyone. As for me—I didn't make any friends, but I had exactly one fight on my first day, and they all decided to leave me alone after that."
"Still though," Suki said. "It couldn't have been fun. In prison—all on your own, without friends, or family."
Mai shrugged. "Actually, I didn't completely hate it." She tilted her head back, gazing up at the dragon. In a murmur so low Suki barely caught it, she said, "I finally stood up to Azula. And I saved Zuko. In a way... I was happier then than I'd ever been. Happier with myself."
Suki watched her, and for a moment she saw in her face the same Mai who had written to Ty Lee, the Kyoshi Warriors, asking them to come to the Fire Nation. The relief on her face when she saw them as she spoke of the assassination attempts on Zuko's life, his growing restlessness and paranoia, how he needed people around him he could trust. The concern, the care that she so rarely let anyone see.
At long last, Mai sighed again, and her eyes flickered toward Suki. "Why did you want to know?"
Suki shook her head and looked away. "Azula locked me away too. In the Boiling Rock prison. While I was there, I thought I could be like Ty Lee and make allies—friends. Instead, one of them betrayed me."
Suki glanced up at the fountain again, the dragon staring down at them. "I don't think about it much these days. But—while I was there, I just felt so cut off, from everything and everyone. And... I guess... there was something about the attack the other night that's made me feel the same way somehow."
"Hm," said Mai.
"I guess that doesn't make any sense," Suki admitted.
Mai had drawn a knife from her sleeve, and she studied the tip of the blade before twirling it once and stowing it away again. "Because she didn't tell you."
Suki blinked once, confused.
"About the bloodbending. We all went after Azula. It makes sense, I suppose, she didn't want to tell Ty Lee or me, even if it was stupid. But you're one of them, and she didn't tell you."
Suki blinked again. She realized Mai was watching her now out of the corner of her eye, with that same dispassionate expression as always. She knew Mai was trying to be understanding in her own way, give voice to Suki's own thoughts—but instead, put that way, so starkly, it felt more like a stab to the chest.
Suki turned her back quickly, before Mai could see her face. She swallowed hard, trying to force the sudden tightness in her throat to ease.
At last she said, trying to keep her voice light, "It's okay. I understand why she didn't." She wondered how it could be—that Mai could be right, that it did hurt, that she was left on the outside. But that Katara could also be right—that, even now, Suki almost wished she still didn't know.
The girl at the prison had made her feel alone, like no one could be trusted. Now, even if it was only in thoughts she refused to put fully into words, it felt like she was on the other side. The sister who betrayed.
Suki said, "I'd… better go back. I should try to get some more rest, before my next shift."
"You work too hard," Mai said, with the air of someone more annoyed by the fact than sympathetic. "I honestly don't think Azula will strike here again right now. It's Zuko she's after."
"You're probably right." Suki managed a half smile over her shoulder, but Mai was already back to gazing at the fountain, expression distant, contemplative.
At last Suki strode away, back across the dark stonework, and out of the courtyard. Back toward the palace, along the empty stretch of space between.
The air was hot. Hot and dry. Like a furnace, an open flame in a small, locked room. A bad temper, when she broke another of her mother's prized vases—
Zirin stood over the dead campfire in the center of the cave floor, arms folded, the dead flutter bat she had spent the last three days trying to catch nailed to the floor at her feet.
To light, or not to light, that was the question. If Zirin had to last another day purely on Azula's stale rice cakes and slivers of squirrel-lizard jerky, she was going to dump the lot of it into the nearest lava flow. Zirin had been in the grips of fresh meat withdrawal for days—but now lighting a campfire involved heat. Heat in a little lava tunnel which already had her face sweating right off her head, like Azula's annoying stories about spirits stealing faces from idiots who couldn't keep their emotions in check.
I shouldn't have agreed to this, Zirin thought, for what had to be the thousandth time. In the institution, they might bind up her arms and legs, and shuttle her around like an invalid, cooing falsely sweet patronizing words no matter how she might scream at them, but at least it was nice and cool, with soft beds, and almost decent food. The others, no doubt all caught by now, were probably having the time of their lives compared to her. Azula had somehow tricked her again.
Zirin kicked at the pile of sticks, then winced slightly as her booted toe caught the edge of a nearby stone. Though a campfire was hardly a necessity down here, Azula had stocked wood and kindling with the other supplies, perhaps in anticipation of this very moment as Zirin reached her breaking point. She wasn't going to risk burning her catch to a cinder by holding it over one of the lava flows in the tunnels further in, even if she had the minute control to regulate the air temperature, as some firebenders could. But judging from how hot the tunnel was now, it was still the middle of the day outside, and if she was smart she would wait until night, when the heat was slightly less unbearable.
But, that was still hours away, and her stomach was growling at her now.
With another kick, Zirin sent a jet of sparks at the pile of wood, and it instantly burst into flame. She grinned—before the heat rose, and the smile turned to a grimace.
"I hate you, Azula," she said aloud, as she quickly knelt down and spitted the bat on a stick, propping it up between two more sticks she'd fashioned into a kind of makeshift support. She backed away from the fire as far as it was possible to go, then sat herself down, spreading her arms away from her. She reasoned that, if you were cold, you curled in on yourself to preserve warmth, so doing the opposite ought to have the opposite effect.
Zirin might have been able to disperse some of the heat with firebending, had she any talent for the subtler arts. Which she didn't. Just as her many tutors over the years were only too fond of reminding her. That had been another good thing about the institution—no flaming firebending lessons for her parents to scream at her over later.
"I hate you, Azula," she repeated, as a bead of sweat dripped from her chin, soaking into the neck of her tunic, only to be followed by another. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."
Zirin could make her way out of the tunnels to the outside world, if she wanted. Serpentine and convoluted as tunnels might be, she had made sure she would know the way even in pitch darkness. But so close to the capital, she'd risk getting spotted—which was why Azula had ensured she would have stores enough to last her through the months. Zirin was less than a day's journey from the caldera by puma-mule, and in fact, Azula had drawn her a map of the surrounding countryside, including marking out an old farmer's ranch from which Zirin was to steal herself a mount when the time came. Azula was annoyingly thorough as ever.
Azula's voice echoed in her mind. "Wait until the fifth full moon from now, Zirin. Then you will go to the capital. And if you succeed… well, you know you will find yourself greatly rewarded. I will keep you out of that wretched institution for a start—and I will make certain you will have everything you ever wanted…"
Of course, Azula's promises weren't worth the air they rode on, but generally speaking doing what Azula wanted was better than not doing what she wanted. Or so Zirin had thought. Now, after a hundred-some days of camping out in a volcano, with nothing but lava worms and her own sweat for company, she wasn't quite so sure.
Azula smiled wide in her memory, as ever the crocodile-viper, complete with poison fangs. "Just a little favor."
Zirin's sour grimace slowly faded, and she stared hard at the nearest layered rock wall.
Zirin had heard the word evil all her life. Bad, nasty, mean, vicious, cruel. She was mean when she kicked the local boy who had stolen her favorite bracelet until he cried. She was vicious when she trashed her father's study after she was kicked out of the Academy for a non-sanctioned fight. Evil girl, her mother would say, when Zirin would jump in the middle of another of her parents' shouting matches, setting the Fire Nation flag over the mantle on fire, screaming louder than they did. Her parents had always threatened to have her shipped off to the crazy house if she didn't shape up—one day they'd actually done it.
Well, maybe Zirin was evil. And bad, and mean, and nasty and everything else. She could have warned the other girls that Azula would leave them soon, banded them together so maybe they could all keep out of the institution. But the world wasn't a nice place, and if a girl didn't look out for herself first, no one else would. Zirin didn't care if they thought she was a traitor, or evil, or whatever else.
Still, as Azula had whispered the words, what it was exactly that Azula wanted her to do, Zirin couldn't quite stop the shiver down her spine. Zirin had never gotten along with her parents. Her mother's temper was explosive, and her father could be cold as the ice he always took in his tea. The only thing it seemed like they ever agreed on was that Zirin was a problem. But, even so, they were still blood. Maybe even someday, she'd thought, they'd all get along.
As Zirin had listened to the request, a single word rose in her mind, one she'd heard so many times, but had never quite felt the weight of until that moment. Evil.
A stench suddenly burned at her nostrils, making Zirin blink. She reached up to wipe the coat of sweat from her forehead, then hurried forward. She yanked the stick from where she had stuck it near the fire, then raised the dead flutter bat to inspect it. It was slightly charred on the outside, the wings black and flaking.
She couldn't tell if it was fully cooked all the way through. However, she couldn't take the fire anymore, and with a sharp snap of her hand, she extinguished it, plunging the cave into darkness, but for a few glowing green crystals Azula had apparently snatched from the catacombs below the Earth Kingdom's capital of Ba Sing Se. Azula really had thought of everything.
Zirin didn't have to do it, of course. Azula was nowhere near here. And, chances were, Zirin would just get herself caught again. But Azula—well, there had always just been something about her. At the institution, they would all hear through the walls when she went on another of her screaming rants at people who weren't there, and even in a place often filled with screaming and crying and madness, it was enough to curdle the blood. And when they happened to pass briefly in the courtyard during outdoor time, Zirin couldn't help but notice that, even with her arms and legs bound up, Azula managed to strike fear in even the hearts of the caretakers.
Azula always had to have her way, and following her could be annoying and frustrating and occasionally terrifying. But she also got things done. Following Azula's instructions on a plan was to be one of the strong, to know how it felt to win. And Zirin liked winning, for once in her life.
Zirin turned her eyes toward the pack of supplies in the corner, the bag she kept separate from the others with all she would need for Azula's plan. With her teeth, she ripped off a bit of charred meat, chewing it to a mangled pulp, as she forced her mind once more to go through each of the steps one by one. All the steps to victory.
A/N: I never paid all that much attention to Azula's Kemurikage gang in Smoke and Shadow until this project, but it does seem like there's quite a bit of opportunity for some interesting dynamics there. Although my impression from the Azula in the Spirit Temple preview pages (Spoiler?) was that they might have abandoned her. Which, let's be real, we can't blame them if they did. (Also apparently we got some more story on one of them from a recent release with the RPG with the Crimson Sails Armada, which was lowkey kind of awesome.)
Also, sequel to my unoriginal waterbender names: after finishing the final major draft for this story, I started reading the first Kyoshi novel again, and apparently there's also a character named Tulok. (I was too lazy to change it, so we'll say for purposes of this story that either it's a coincidence, or there's an interesting backstory reason on Shadows Tulok for it that I haven't come up with yet.) Oi…
Random note I just have to get out there—maybe this is an exaggeration, but playing through the Avatar mobile game Avatar Generations, I got the impression that fully half of Suki's dialogue was threatening to throw someone or other to the Unagi. Which, is not a Suki portrayal I'm opposed to, but. This raises the question, how many pirates had she actually fed to the Unagi over the years before meeting the gaang, and how dangerous is it actually to get on her bad side. (Not drawing any conclusions, just asking questions.)
Well then, thank you so much for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you in the next one!
Posted 6/8/23