"…last seen off the shores of the Huang Province. Given their position and heading, we should expect another hawk tomorrow from outposts further west—the day after, at the latest." The messenger rolled up the scroll, bowed, and backed away from the throne.
Throughout the reading, Azula had watched her father take in the information without any discernable reaction. In fact, he looked utterly unfazed by the troublesome report as shadows of the ever-present flames around him swayed and flickered across his face. "Huang is three days away," she informed him, trying to impress upon him the urgent action that needed to be taken against the Water Tribe-controlled ship in their waters.
Father sat, unmoved. "They do not sail in our direction," his voice echoed in the chamber. It was not a question.
She blinked. What was this hesitancy? "Why wait?" Azula replied, trying to control the bite to her tone. No one but she could speak to the Fire Lord in such a curt manner, but even Azula knew there was a line between casual familiarity and disrespect. "The Avatar and his followers will be on that ship. They need to be found and crushed."
"And your brother." She sensed a slight curl to the words, so that it was both a question and a statement. He had already heard the events that had gone down over a week ago and had almost reveled in Zuko's final act of defiance and whatever emotions it elicited from Azula.
All he would ever see, though, is undoubting hate and disgust toward her wayward brother. He wouldn't have the disappointment of seeing her any other way. "If he is found with them, he will be treated as one of them," she replied.
An approving nod; then, silence. No dismissal was given, so she remained where she was.
"What do you think are the intentions of this rogue ship and the Avatar?"
"To attack," she replied without hesitation. "There cannot be another."
"Attacking with a single ship…whose last heading was due northwest of the Caldera. Hm." The sound was low and smug, a half-chuckle with a touch of disappointment.
I'm missing something. Remembering the intelligence she had gathered in Ba Sing Se, she added, "The Earth King confided in me his intentions to attack during a 'Day of Black Sun.' Perhaps they're biding their time. Amassing their allies for an attack."
"In the Fire Nation… That would be bold of them, but it's a possibility. Do you keep up with your lessons?"
He was toying with her. "I've been busy, Father," she replied with the most sarcasm she dared to use. He had hardly congratulated her on capturing Ba Sing Se, and he was asking her about tutors?
Yet he persisted down this strange path: "Astronomy?"
"No. If you remember—"
"Yes." He drew out the word with a hiss. "I remember." The tutor whose hands shook the first and only day of teaching, who bored Azula too much of stories about the constellations and how they influenced the world. She was taken out of the room and given to Zuko. "Useless for most everything. Stars do not decide our destiny, but," he said, his voice dropping to a level reserved for giving orders, "it would do you well to know about what may change the course of history."
It's with veiled impatience that he explains Day of Black Sun, the weakest day for firebenders and the entire Fire Nation. The Earth King had not been exaggerating the effects the event. No wonder whatever great-great-grandfather Fire Lord at the time struck it from the records. A secret like that could ruin their country.
The other nations had evidently found out somehow and planned their attacks accordingly. They weren't as stupid as she thought they were.
"Are we ready?" Azula asked.
"I am ready. Prepare yourself."
Of course. Why would she expect him to protect her when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself? "Yes, Father."
"Go. I expect you to attend any meetings relating to this matter."
Ugh. Meetings. Mai and Ty Lee were doing better work tracking down rumors of the Avatar than attending meetings. But she bowed. She would remain the perfect child, the only child that mattered anymore. "Yes, Father."
-o-0-
Father made one of the Fire Sages bring her to the archives, the place that held items not fit for ordinary eyes. They went to the eastern plaza closest to the Fire Sages' temple and approached a pair of dragon statues situated near the center of the deserted area. The Sage stuck his hand into the left dragon's mouth and firebended, and the floor between the statues sunk into the earth which revealed a stairway spiraling downward. "Please," he said, gesturing for her to go first.
She descended some hundred steps before meeting level ground. Then the Sage took the lead, holding one hand full of fire to light the way. Initially the tunnel was empty, then they passed shelves—still empty—lining the tunnel, then various scrolls and books began to fill the shelves.
"My Lady's father's," said the Sage, the first words spoken in several minutes.
Father's things. She slowed, looking for a sign of anything useful.
"Apologies, my Lady, my Lord has ordered me to show the Princess the older records and expressly forbade opening my Lord's."
Of course.
They continued walking. The shelves began to be piled high with material, each scroll neatly stacked above the other.
"How much is here?"
"Of Fire Lord Ozai's? Not much. We've already moved onto my Lady's namesake, Fire Lord Azulon."
Watching the countless scrolls pass, she asked, "What makes something get stored here?"
"We place here whatever the Fire Lord wishes, but, generally, we preserve any non-official documents not publicly released, especially personal documents: diaries, journals, messages, anything."
"Secrets."
He glanced back at her. "That is the nature of 'personal,' my Lady."
They continued in silence as they continued deeper into the earth. Azula couldn't imagine where they were in relation to the surface or how much longer it would be until she reached her destination. "Should my servants have packed a meal?"
"We are still in Fire Lord Azulon's collection. As my Lady knows, Fire Lord Azulon completed the Great Palace after construction was halted for some time during parts of the War, but what my Lady may not be aware of is that construction never stopped. Conscripted stoneworkers came here to carve out these tunnels."
"And?"
"And it's because of this that the largest collection of any one Fire Lord is his."
"I suppose not many stoneworkers returned from the War."
"They did not. Ah, here are the older records."
It was clear that meticulous, even delicate care had been given to Azulon's records. By comparison, these records were practically shoved into any available space.
"This is the beginning of some of the oldest records in the nation." The shelves extended out into the darkness.
"Father told you what I needed?"
"Yes, Princess. These items were some of the first placed here. Many are still sealed with a lord's signet back when they were first collected and transported here at least a hundred years ago. As my Lady can imagine, it makes organizing such things difficult—"
"Just show me."
He bowed his head. "I can show my Lady where the most likely places are, but unfortunately I cannot guarantee that will be where the right documents are." He stopped and gestured to a section of dust-covered scrolls.
She didn't reach for one right away. Was all this a distraction by Father? Some endless search for something that didn't exist so he could keep her preoccupied? Or would this Fire Sage try to direct her search in order to manipulate her? "Leave me."
The Fire Sage bowed his head. "As my Lady wishes," and left her, darkness edging closer until she bended her own light.
-o-0-
She wouldn't ordinarily read ancient books and scrolls—they weren't much better than some old person telling you how to do things just because they sat around and existed for longer than you—but this was an exception because everyone who knew what Day of Black Sun was like was also dead. And if the enemy was using this knowledge against her, she'd better know as much as she could.
At first, the act of reading the otherwise forbidden words brought a certain amount of thrill and entertainment, but the novelty soon wore off, and she was once again left with tired, old letters that were the firsthand accounts of past Fire Lords. Even that description sounded more exciting than it was.
Grabbing another scroll off the pile beside her, she began to read:
Herein is the Account of the Twentieth Day of the Fourth Month of the Sixth Year of Fire Lord Zoryu's Reign:
Reports of the first seedlings sprouting aside the Great Caldera have arrived with earnest. It is a profound relief on my spirit to hear of such good tidings after the lasting effects of the Famine these trying years….
Boring. Azula went to another scroll that was dated later:
…of the Twenty-Seventh Year of Fire Lord Sozin's Reign:
It's with a heavy heart that we officially sever diplomatic ties with the Air Nomads. Unfortunately, they remain fixed in their attempts to use their beliefs to infiltrate this Government and Nation. I cannot allow this to happen any longer. I respect them, but they play a dirty game by not making known to me their intentions….
Moving on, trying to find the date Father told her about, Azula searched, but many referenced Fire Lords she didn't recognize, much less knew when they lived, and some were so old that the dates—if they ever had them—had faded decades ago.
One that was particularly eaten up by bugs began:
—Year o— the —on
High Sage—yn the Chose—
My Lord, I'm happy to — that there remains no effects of —lack Day. The –rince is a pict— of —th. More new— —o come….
There were few descriptions of Day of Black Sun that Azula could find. She had read references to a "Black Day," "Dark Sun," "Second Night," and a host of other terms in the papers, each describing the same thing: for as long as the sun was hidden by the moon, firebenders across the nation would lose their bending ability.
That was the story, anyway; Azula had yet to find any firsthand accounts. Maybe there were things that were hidden even for those with privileged access.
She grabbed the next scroll. Using the dagger given to her by Uncle all those years ago—quality was quality, no matter the origin—she flicked open the wax seal marked with a signet she didn't recognize. What must have been a highly decorative sleeve was badly burned as if it had been saved from a fire. Removing and unraveling the scroll, it seemed to have fared no better with its brittle and smoke-stained parchment that threatened to disintegrate in her hands.
…not think of anything else but the Comet. It approaches slowly, but it gives me time to reflect on the past, a chance I rarely receive and receive with dread…
My brother is not here to interfere any longer. I realize that, with this Comet, my forced delay was not the Avatar's doing but Destiny, for it is surely a Sign of my Victory to come.
I wish he could have seen my vision come to fruition but, alas, he was too short-sighted. Like so many, he believed it was impossible, and, worse, wrong to share our Nation's splendor. Perhaps he wanted to horde our riches. That was not how he was when we were youths, but the years have certainly changed him, as did his time away from his true Home. I have no doubt I've changed in my own ways, but I am still doing what is best for my Nation. That cannot be denied.
The past doesn't write our destinies, but I think it does much to shape them. I think the Avatar was made to be my brother in all but blood, and made to betray me as he did. I believe Destiny made these things happen for me to grow stronger than if we had been enemies from the start. Stronger than the Avatar, even. I see it now….
Azula meant to read on, but her eyes caught the word, "bastard," farther down the scroll. Its entry date was burned away, though it must have been not too much later.
Ta Min has a daughter. It had not escaped my notice that she has been born, but her upbringing has been a quiet one—for good reason. My kindness to Roku's widow was extended with that one request: silence. To her credit, she has kept it. Today, though, I spotted young Rina. I was making my weekly rounds of the Lower Gardens and saw her. I was so taken aback by her that I was unaware that I had stopped. She holds herself like the bastard did—that traitor. It was a slap to the face, as if he was mocking me from beyond the grave. Little did he know that I will do everything I can to keep him there.
It's only luck and my own pardoning hand that she lives, despite the insult of her presence. If Ta Min had born a son, I could not have stood for it. But perhaps this is a more fitting end to Roku's bloodline: though once great, it dies with a whimper rather than a sudden, honorable end.
Rina. That's… Her right hand shook with a slight tremor. No, it couldn't be. Her blood was pure, the blood of emperors and conquerors! Not…not the Avatar. No—there had to be a mistake, or it was a test by her father. Azula's mind even went to the possibility that the Fire Sage or a spy had planted it there to be used against her when she became Fire Lord. But that was outlandish. No more outlandish than finding out you're the descendent of the Avatar. How—why? Why would Father sink so low as to marry her? No, he wouldn't have tarnished his reputation like that. He couldn't have known.
She was trying to defeat her own great-grandfather.
No, she reminded herself, closing her fist to still her hand. He is already dead. Avatar Roku sired her grandmother, but he was not the bald boy that stood between her and her prize. No one else. Not him, not—
Zuzu. Her mind was racing. He was always favored by Mother. He must have gotten the dragon's share of the filth. Great-grandfather thought the Avatar's influence would end if he never had sons. He underestimated his daughter and granddaughter. Or maybe they just had the same stubborn resiliency that weeds do.
She let the scroll lay where she'd left it—it could rot for all she cared—and returned above ground. The night air was humid and warm, made bearable by the breeze off of the cooling ocean. The Palace was just in front of her, dark with the exception of one or two weak lights which ever-lit the halls. Azula hurried inside and the familiar walls closed around her. The Palace had once felt like a prison when she was little, but with the power and knowledge she now wielded, it was a haven, a bulwark against outsiders.
And still no real records of Day of Black Sun, she thought, letting out a little huff. Nothing other than Father's words: "Our bending will disappear momentarily, and that is when they will attack." That was going to have to be enough to go on.
Feet moving automatically, Azula found herself at her bedroom door before she knew it. Changing and climbing into bed, she stared up at the ceiling. Day of Black Sun wasn't that far off—eleven days—and she needed to be ready.
Sleep found her eventually, but not before she had recalled Sozin's words several times: It gives me time to reflect on the past, a chance I rarely receive and receive with dread. Knowing she was related to the Avatar would not dissuade her from her task, but why did she feel such dread when she thought about it?