Prologue
"Even with all the power in the world, she is still weak."
It was the first quiet night she had had for over a year. The real and the unreal came and went at their convenience, without any form or control. At times, it could be tolerated; at others, it was a martyrdom as painful as being hammered from the skull. No matter the circumstances, or the situation, there was always something, a small noise, a slight movement, an unsettling feeling that the moment one let one's guard down a fervently built sandcastle would collapse again.
Not that night. That night, even if Azula felt her body stiffen, her back throbbing, her hands restrained and her thirst unquenchable, she felt none of the bitter sensations. Instead, she chose to let herself be surrounded by that slight tranquility that, perhaps undeservedly, she achieved.
She didn't want to open his eyes, the very idea of his mind clear on his landscape was enough to be called idyllic, when was the last time ideas came coherently? She didn't know, at least by now the difference was uneven, opaque. His father might have considered his act cowardly or childish, but he couldn't help it, the slight shaking of his shoulders marked a resistance greater than hundreds of chains, a warning in trusting his instincts and not opening his sleepy golden eyes.
However, and against his will, sharp lights began to illuminate the darkened room. One by one, the tiny sparkles painted the gloomy place into a warmer one. It didn't matter if it was a dream or reality, the constancy of the flashes began to overwhelm Azula's eyelids that had to strain to even fully cover her eyes.
In the end, she had to give in. It was not strange, for a long time now her wishes had never been heard. With slight blinks, Azula inspected the new confinement cell she was trapped in. Among all the bars, walls, and prisons, the princess had to give her brother credit: this was the most bizarre and fascinating of all.
A small room, filled with candles enclosed in lanterns that barely illuminated the surface. The ceilings stretched beyond darkness, with no way of knowing if this was an infinite space or even a reasonable method of escape. Most distinctive were the labels, hundreds of labels taped to the wall and formed rows of ritual seals Azula had never seen in her life. Her best guess was a temple of the fire sages, but neither the chair, nor the candles, nor even the architecture she caught a glimpse of matched the composition of the fire nation's designs, so that was not a possibility.
"Good night, sleeping beauty" At her sight, a white-haired man with bandages around his eyes looked up at her, sitting in a chair above her.
"Who are you?"
"How bossy, and I thought you would receive your savior better." The man touched his chest in pain, false even to the blind. "Satoru Gojo; or whatever you should call me, master. After all, I take care of the Tokyo freshmen, so we'll get together."
"Sorcery?" Azula scoffed, a memory of her senile uncle talking about things like spirits and natural forces, though she was also struck by the mention of the place. "Tokyo?"
Azula thought it was a joke. No, she wished what the man said was a strange peasant joke, but there were so many illogical things in the statement. At first, it was well known that education in the nobility was not extensive; the noble houses raised their children in the early and later instances of their development to be competent adults and inherit their legacy and wealth after they served.
"I see you need several things explained to you, but I'm not here to explain matters at the moment so I'll get straight to the point: girl, you will be executed."
Azula's eyes widened in surprise. Few things could surprise her at that point, but her brother executing her was not one of those, Zuko was too soft to do something like that. No, that was with the estimation that she remained in the fire nation when it didn't seem to be the case.
But if it mattered at all, she didn't quite connect the ideas. A part of her wished to keep her composure, but her little sighing agitation was enough to prove otherwise. That was not her wish, she felt it was exaggerated. No, more than that, she felt it frightening, because her actions could very well be manipulated to condemn her to death.
"Or at least that would be," Satoru laughed, in great enjoyment of Azula's contrasting reaction. "You see, these old geezers take anything as a threat, and a dimensional trespass that breaks everything established in the rules and knowledge of Jujutsu is reason enough to take that thing down."
"They see me as a threat," Azula spoke, with an empty hope to get out of the strange situation.
"Not you, but what you bring with you. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the terms 'dimension' or 'universe,' or perhaps 'realm' or 'world' would resonate better with you. Although I must admit it's not just anything, before your appearance I would only believe it from some poorly written fantasy story."
The reality is that both concepts were unfamiliar to it, but she began to spin what this man tried to say. Though she was never very devout, the stories of her uncle and the spirit world were not foreign to her. If the threat was her mere existence, it may be that she came to a place beyond the known boundaries, one that defied the logic of that world and her very presence carried these new shackles, not for her status, but for existing. Even if it sounded far-fetched, it was the plausible thing to do.
Although deep down he appreciated the intervention (something he would never acknowledge), he did not understand the man's refusal of the order. If an external agent that posed a danger not only to a nation but the entire world should have been eliminated. Even so, that was in the first instance, something changed. Azula thought to play with some more patience but found that he did not carry much, and the man was too open. She did not know if it was because the situation made him feel confident... or if there was something else.
- Why? What change?
"Your potential... and the allure of mystery if you ask me," Satoru pointed out, holding up his fingers for every reason. "Your cursed energy is extraordinary, even if it's raw I can feel its latent power, and believe me when I say that in that sort of thing, I never fail."
Azula wrote down all the concepts the man said throughout the conversation and took the idea. In short, she was not executed because they saw her as a valuable soldier for their purposes. A pronounced frown was drawn on her features, resentful and annoyed against whatever this strange organization was that held her.
"it's hilarious. But don't worry, if you become strong, they won't bother you... much."
"And you are? You speak too confidently. Aren't you afraid of the possibility that your plans and those you call "geezers" won't come to fruition? Because I'm in no mood to go back to being a slave."
"I like your attitude" Gojo pointed a finger at Azula, indeed pleased with the answer given. "Unfortunately, you must abandon that idea. Do you know why?" With a toothy grin, twice as wide as the one he had a moment ago Gojo pointed at himself. "Because you are looking at the most powerful sorcerer of all. No matter what you plot, or try, no matter how much you discover in this dimension, that's not something you'll change anytime soon."
Satoru stood up, not letting his words escalate beyond the statement. It was also the moment Azula realized how tall and imposing that skinny man could be.
"Anyway, classes start in two days. I'll take you to your room" Satoru walked to Azula and untied the restraints. "And don't take my words as a threat. You can trust that the classes will be more fun than they sound, this is not your ordinary school where you get bored with calculus or grammar lessons... at least not all the time."
"Can I trust those words?" Azula questioned, not quite understanding the character of the person in front of her.
"You shouldn't, but right now I'm the only ally you know."
That was an irrefutable point, though it was infuriating how soberly her words were released from her mouth. Her demeanor screamed "Narcissist," so clear that her image became the first thing she associated with the dictionary. However, from the beginning, Azula sensed something different about this man, something that kept her on a different alert than before.
Her mind called in a state of danger alert, one that would launch into attack as soon as the faintest shadow loomed on the pillars of the palace or the beds of her companions. This was almost as if anticipating something, an object impossible to stop that was only a matter of time in landing and the thing with which she could come to assimilate this sensation was by the tremors in her legs that dictated taking the opposite path to that man.
That is when she understood, it was survival instinct.
Was he so strong?
Were these self-proclaimed wizards that strong?
And if in theory, she had the potential to develop a power so great that her mere presence denoted a power greater than that of the Avatar, then perhaps she did not find herself in a desperate situation. No, quite the contrary, for the first time in a long time a spark within her awakened, one she hadn't felt since the mirror, and a mischievous smile couldn't help but spread across her lips.
XXX
Well, this is just a translation of the work in Spanish. I want to experiment to see if I can reach the English audience being older than the Spanish audience, although it is only an attempt at least with this story. If you have suggestions to improve this aspect, or any of you would like to be my beta reader I would be very grateful.
Even if it's only the prologue, if you like it or are interested in it, a favorite and a review would help me a lot.
Until next time. Bye.
