Chapter 8: Sozin's Comet Part Four
Wow four chapters in less than a month. I guess miracles do happen.
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There's About 4-6 chapters left before we enter complete divergence from canon so ye be warned.
"Hey, would it kill you guys to loosen these restraints a little?" Sokka's voice rang out in frustration, echoing down the corridor.
The two Fire Nation guards flanking him didn't even glance his way. Their faces were hidden behind their dark-white helmets, their silence an answer of its own. The chains binding Sokka's wrists were tight, digging into his skin as they guided him towards the palace—towards the throne room.
Sokka groaned. "Come on, it's not like I'm going to run off or something."
The guards still gave no response, only continuing to walk beside him. They had made sure that he was properly restrained before hauling him out of the tower where he'd spent the last 24 hours. He winced as the metal dug into his wrists with every step, but the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the turmoil brewing inside his mind.
The comet arrives today.
The thought struck him with the same intensity as Azula's lightning. It sent a sickening twist through his stomach. Today, Sozin's Comet would arrive, bringing with it the end of the war as they knew it, and not the good ending everyone was hoping for, that is—if Aang couldn't stop the Fire Lord. But here he was, a prisoner, trapped behind enemy lines with no way to help them.
Sokka clenched his fists. He had spent hours trying to figure out where the others might be hiding after the Western Air Temple. He guessed that They'd probably been moving constantly, always trying to stay one step ahead of the Fire Nation. He'd tried to piece together possible locations, safe places they could camp, but none of the ideas that had crossed his mind felt right. He wasn't sure of anything anymore, and it was driving him crazy.
he only hoped that they hadn't plan to hide out until after the comet arrived. For then it would be too late.
What if they're in danger right now? The thought gnawed at him. What if they're fighting right now, and I'm stuck here, useless?
He hated it. He hated feeling powerless.
The guards gave him a rough shove, jolting him out of his thoughts. They were nearing the massive doors that led to the throne room. The oppressive weight of the palace pressed down on him with every step they took. He clutched the letter tightly in his hand, the one he had been forced to write under Azula's order.
Azula's plan still didn't make sense to him. She'd made him write this letter, claiming it would be used as a trap for his friends, but Sokka didn't see how it would work. As far as he knew, you couldn't just attach a letter to a fire hawk and say, "Fly this to the Avatar."
The birds needed a location, a place to deliver the message—and they didn't have that. He wasn't even sure where his friends were, which was currently a good thing. The less he knew, the safer they were.
Still, the whole situation felt wrong. He had wanted to talk to Tuka after she healed him, but she had simply reminded him of his task—the letter—and disappeared. She seemed like a good person, but her loyalty to the Fire Nation troubled him.
He had so many questions—maybe even convince her to see sense, to question her loyalty to Azula and the Fire Nation—but it had been clear from the way she carried herself that her loyalty wasn't easily swayed. That fact still bothered him. She was from the Water Tribe, yet her allegiance lay here, in this place that had caused so much destruction.
Sokka was jolted back to the presentas the guards came to a halt in front of a set of massive doors, their dark metal etched with intricate Fire Nation symbols. His stomach twisted with a mix of anxiety and frustration. He was about to face her again.
The doors creaked open slowly, revealing the grandeur of the Fire Lord's seat of power
Sokka swallowed hard as he stepped inside, flanked by the two guards. His eyes widened as he took in the sheer majesty of the throne room. It was even more grand than the Earth King's palace, a vast chamber filled with crimson banners, golden ornaments, and imposing columns that reached toward the ceiling like the spires of some ancient temple. But what truly caught his attention was the throne at the far end of the room.
There, at the far end of the room, beneath a towering arch adorned with intricate carvings, sat Azula—cross-legged on a raised cushion, bathed in the glow of flickering blue flames. The fire cast eerie shadows across her face, highlighting her sharp features and the cold, calculating gleam in her eyes. The arch above her, an intricate web of red and gold, framed her like a dark, regal deity.
Blue fire blazed in front of her and behind her, creating a shimmering barrier that only added to the sense of danger radiating from her presence.
The sight of her sent a shiver down Sokka's spine. She was the Fire Lord now, though her coronation was yet to happen, Azula had already claimed the title, and it was clear that she relished every moment of her newfound power.
But then Sokka's attention was drawn to the center of the room, where two more guards were dragging a body across the floor. It wasn't until they passed him that he realized it was a woman's body. His throat tightened as he noticed the dark blood trailing behind the body, still fresh, still warm. The woman's neck was slashed, the wound deep, and her lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead as the guards hauled her away like a sack of grain.
Sokka's stomach churned. What had caused that woman's death? Was his turn next? Did Azula finally come to her senses?
They stopped just before the blue flames, the heat licking at his skin as they faced the throne. Sokka caught a glimpse of Azula's face through the flames. Her expression was unreadable, cold as stone, but he sensed the irritation simmering beneath the surface. The chains around his wrists clinked as he stood there, his heart hammering in his chest.
The two guards accompanying him bowed deeply, and after a brief hesitation, Sokka followed their lead, lowering himself into a stiff bow. He didn't want to do it—he hated bowing to her, hated acknowledging her authority—but in this moment, surrounded by fire and death, he wasn't in a position to resist.
Azula raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden obedience, though she didn't let it show on her face. She remained expressionless as her golden eyes flicked between Sokka and the guards.
"Rise," she commanded, her voice cool and sharp.
As the flames in front of her began to lower, though not extinguish entirely, Sokka and the guards rose in unison. The blue flames behind the throne continued to flicker, casting ominous shadows across the grand hall.
The guard closest to Sokka spoke, his voice low and reverent. "Fire Lord Azula. The prisoner, as requested."
Azula inclined her head slightly, her gaze settling on Sokka as she addressed the guards. "Thank you. You may leave us."
Sokka's stomach twisted as the guards nodded, turned and exited the room, leaving him alone with her. His heart pounded in his chest as the doors closed behind them, sealing him inside the throne room with the woman who had nearly killed him more than once.
Azula stood slowly, her movements graceful and deliberate as she rose from the cushion and descended from the platform. The blue flames in front of her vanished completely, and as she approached, Sokka couldn't help but notice something—she was barefoot. His eyes flicked down to her feet briefly before quickly moving back to meet her gaze as she stopped in front of him.
"I take it you've written the letter?" Azula asked, her voice calm but with an edge of authority that made Sokka's skin crawl.
"I have," Sokka replied stiffly, holding up the rolled letter for her to see.
Azula took it from him, her fingers brushing his for a brief moment before she turned and began to read as she walked past him. The silence stretched between them as she read, her eyes scanning the words with a critical eye.
"Excellent," she said after a moment, her voice soft but filled with satisfaction. "You're the first one today who didn't end up being a disappointment.
Sokka's stomach twisted again, his mind flashing back to the lifeless body of the woman dragged out of the throne room. His throat tightened again as he realized what she meant. Azula was implying that the woman had failed her somehow, and she had paid for it with her life.
"Please, Azula." Sokka began, his voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at him. "This is absurd, even for you."
Azula ignored him, her eyes still fixed on the letter as she continued to read. She was silent for a moment, and then suddenly, she let out a cold, mocking laugh.
Sokka's jaw clenched. The sound of her sudden laughter breaking his train of thought immediately.
"This is better than I expected," Azula said, a smirk pulling at her lips. "Where did you learn how to write like this?"
Sokka hesitated, surprised by her casual tone. Something about it was unsettling. Only moments ago, she had someone killed without a second thought, and now she was speaking to him as if they were exchanging pleasantries. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.
He decided not to indulge her.
"It doesn't matter," he replied, his voice hard. "This is madness. How would you even know where to send the letter?"
The smile faded from Azula's face, and she turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. "I asked you a question."
Sokka's pulse quickened, but he held his ground. "And I'm not going to answer you!"
Azula's eyes flashed with fury, and she took a step closer to him, her voice rising to match his. "You fool!" she hissed, her face inches from his. "Would you like to end up like the previous visitor?"
Sokka met her gaze, defiance burning in his eyes. "Gladly."
Azula's face twisted in rage, and before Sokka could brace himself, she threw the letter aside and blasted him with a bolt of blue fire. The force of the blast sent him flying backward, slamming into a nearby pillar. Searing pain shot through his body as the flames licked at his skin, and he collapsed to the ground, groaning in agony.
His chest heaved as he lay on the cold stone floor, his torso exposed where the blast had burned through his shirt. He could see small blue flames still clinging to the fabric before they quickly turned orange. The heat still radiated from the burn, but the pain was nothing compared to the sickening feeling of helplessness washing over him.
Before he could even attempt to stand, Azula was already there. Her bare foot pressed down on his exposed chest, pinning him to the ground. The moment her skin made contact with his, the flames on his shirt extinguished completely, as if snuffed out by her mere presence, leaving behind only the searing pain in his muscles.
A small grunt escaped Sokka's lips as Azula glared down at him, her eyes cold and unyielding.
"You will take this letter to the chief librarian," she said, her voice clipped and formal once more. "Have him make a hundred copies of it."
Sokka winced under her foot, but his defiance hadn't faded. "No."
Azula's eyes narrowed, and she pressed her foot harder against his chest, forcing a pained gasp from his lips.
"You will have him make a thousand copies," she began once more, her voice louder this time. "And then—"
"I'm not going to do it," Sokka interrupted, his voice hoarse but filled with defiance.
For a moment, there was silence. Azula's foot remained pressed against his chest, and he could feel her anger simmering beneath the surface. But before she could respond, Sokka continued, his voice stronger now.
"And it doesn't matter..." he said, his eyes locking with hers," How badly you'll hurt me, for some messed-up reason, you won't kill me."
Azula's eyes flashed with fury, but she didn't respond. Instead, she glared down at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. They both knew that he was before either of them could speak, the heavy doors to the throne room burst open, and two guards rushed in, their armor clinking as they crossed the threshold.
"Fire Lord Azula!" one of them called out, his voice filled with alarm. "Are you all right?"
Azula's head snapped toward them, her expression darkening with irritation. Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she addressed them. "Ah, what impeccable timing."
She removed her foot from Sokka's chest with deliberate slowness, her movements graceful despite the venom in her eyes. As soon as her weight lifted, Sokka gasped for breath, his chest heaving as he struggled to push himself upright.
The guards exchanged nervous glances as they stood at attention, clearly sensing the tension in the room. Azula turned away from Sokka, her posture rigid as she walked back toward the throne, her bare feet padding silently across the stone floor.
"You see, actually," she continued, her voice cold, "I'm not okay." Her gaze remained fixed on the throne as she spoke, but the undercurrent of malice was clear.
The guards exchanged nervous glances but said nothing as they watched her.
"There is a special task that needs to be done," Azula continued, her voice icy. "But I can only entrust it, to a worthy servant."
One of the guards stepped forward hesitantly, bowing low. "Anything for you, my Lord," he said nervously.
Sokka pushed himself up slightly, still groaning from the pain as he watched her, his mind racing.
Where is she going with this?
Azula stopped at the base of the platform and turned, her eyes locking onto Sokka. She didn't address him directly but spoke to the guards, her voice filled with cruel amusement.
"No, listen." she said softly, her voice filled with a strange amusement. "Only one of you could achieve this position."
The guards straightened, their eyes widening in confusion.
"And that would be the one..."Azula raised her hand and pointed at Sokka, her expression cold. "Who would bring me, his head."
They stood gathered near outside the tavern, they'd just been in, their eyes fixed on the figure before them: June, the bounty hunter. Her appearance was as rough and fierce as ever—leather-clad, with her usual unimpressed scowl. She leaned casually against a post, arms crossed, watching the group with her sharp, calculating gaze.
In front of her, Nyla, the massive shirshu, pawed at the ground, its long, whip-like tongue flicking in and out as it awaited instructions.
Zuko was the first to speak, his voice steady but tense. "We need your help, June."
June raised an eyebrow, looking from Zuko to the others, her expression a mixture of curiosity and mild amusement. " Well, well, well. If it isn't Prince pouty and the Avatar's fangirls. Last time we met, You had a hefty bounty placed on their heads. "
Toph snorted, her arms crossed as she tilted her head in June's direction. "Yeah, well, now we're the ones offering you a job. We need to find Aang. Fast."
June's lips curled into a smirk as she pushed herself off the post. "The Avatar, huh? You've come to the right place. Nyla can track anyone—just give me something of his, and we'll see what we can do."
Zuko, not wasting a moment, pulled Aang's staff from where it had been strapped to Appa's saddle. "This belonged to Aang. It's the only thing we have that might carry his scent."
June eyed the staff for a moment, her gaze thoughtful as she took it from Zuko's hands. She crouched down in front of Nyla, holding the staff under the creature's nose.
"All right, big guy," she said, her voice low and coaxing. "Do your thing."
Nyla's enormous nose flared as he sniffed the staff, his tongue darting out to taste the air around it. For a few tense moments, everyone held their breath, watching closely for any sign that Nyla had picked up Aang's scent. The shirshu sniffed again, then raised its head, swinging it left and right, as though searching for a trail.
Suki glanced at Zuko, her brow furrowed with worry. "What if this doesn't work?" she asked softly.
Zuko didn't answer immediately, his eyes fixed on Nyla, hoping desperately that the creature would find something—anything—that could lead them to Aang. But as the seconds ticked by, a sinking feeling grew in his chest.
Nyla sniffed the air one last time before lowering its head with a soft grunt. It pawed at the ground but didn't move. June straightened, letting out a frustrated breath.
"Nothing," she said, her voice flat. She handed the staff back to Zuko. "He's not picking up any trail."
The group fell into a heavy silence. The weight of June's words settled over them like a thick fog, each of them processing the grim reality of what this meant. If Nyla couldn't find Aang, then there was no trail. No scent. No way of locating him.
Zuko clenched the staff in his hands, frustration bubbling up inside him. "There has to be something," he muttered, his voice low. "His not dead is he?."
"No. we could still track his body if he were dead." June crossed her arms again, her tone blunt as she delivered the bad news. "But if Nyla can't find him, it can mean only one thing: Aang doesn't exist."
Katara's eyes widened with alarm, her hands balling into fists. "What do you mean, he doesn't exist?"
June shrugged. "Exactly what I said. No scent means your friend is gone. Like gone, gone."
The implication hit them like a punch to the gut. Katara's heart raced as her mind flashed to the worst possible scenarios. If he wasn't dead then could something have happened that took him out of the physical world entirely?
"No," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Aang can't be gone. There's no way."
June shrugged again, clearly indifferent to the group's mounting anxiety. "Look, I can only tell you what Nyla picks up—or doesn't pick up. If he says there's no trail, then there's no trail. I've done my part."
She turned on her heel, ready to leave. "Good luck with your Avatar search. You're going to need it."
"Wait!" Zuko's voice rang out, stopping her in her tracks.
June glanced over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. "What is it now?"
Zuko took a deep breath, his mind scrambling for another solution. If they couldn't find Aang, they needed someone else—someone who could help them stop the Fire Lord.
His uncle.
"There's… someone else who can help us," Zuko said, his voice quieter now but filled with a kind of reluctant determination. "If we can't find Aang, we can find my uncle. He's the only person left who can help us defeat the Fire Lord."
The rest of the group turned to Zuko, surprise flickering across their faces. Katara's eyes widened, and Suki's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Your uncle?" Suki asked, her tone skeptical. "You want us to go after your uncle?"
Zuko nodded, pulling a worn slipper from his bag—a slipper he had kept from his time with Iroh, a small reminder of the man who had taught him so much. "This belonged to him. Nyla can use it to track him down."
Before Zuko could continue, Suki stepped forward, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Wait a minute, Zuko. We can't find Aang, and now you want us to go on another goose chase to find your uncle?" She crossed her arms, her eyes flashing with frustration. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going with you. You guys can go, but I'm taking Appa to the Boiling Rock."
Katara's eyes darted to Suki, then back to Zuko. She felt torn—Suki was right; they had no idea where Aang was, and Sokka was still in prison. But at the same time, they couldn't defeat the Fire Lord without help. And Zuko's uncle, Iroh, was one of the most powerful firebenders alive. The decision weighed heavily on her mind.
Suki turned to Katara, her voice softer now, but still filled with urgency. "You're coming with me, right?"
Katara hesitated. She looked at Suki, then at Zuko. Her face reflected her turmoil; she was caught between decisions.
Suki sighed, her expression hardening when she realized Katara wasn't going to answer. "Fine," she muttered, her voice low but resolute. "I'll go on my own."
She turned sharply and began to walk toward Appa, her footsteps heavy with determination.
"Suki! Wait! Its too dangerous." Toph called after her, her voice edged with concern.
But Suki didn't stop. She was already climbing onto Appa's saddle, preparing to leave.
Zuko rushed forward and grabbed her arm, his voice tense. "Suki! Listen! It's a really bad idea to split up now. We need to stay together."
Suki whipped around to face him, her eyes blazing. "Stay together? Until when, Zuko? The comet is today! Our time is running out, and Aang is nowhere to be found. You want us to trust everything we have on this… this creature?" She gestured to Nyla, her frustration boiling over.
Zuko held her gaze, his voice steady despite the tension between them. "Please. Trust me—just until we find my uncle. And I promise, if we don't, I'll come with you to find Sokka."
For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, their determination wavered as she stared into Zuko's eyes. She could see the desperation in his expression—the need for her to understand, to trust him, even though everything seemed to be falling apart. The weight of the decision pressed down on her, and for a few agonizing seconds, the tension between them hung in the air like a storm ready to break.
Suki finally sighed, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "Okay," she said quietly, her voice softer now, though the edge of urgency was still there. "But just until we find your uncle. And if we don't, we're going after Sokka. No more detours."
Zuko nodded, his face full of gratitude. "I promise."
Suki climbed down from Appa, her face still set in a mixture of determination and worry. The rest of the group let out a collective sigh of relief, though the atmosphere was still thick with tension. The day was slipping away from them, and the comet loomed closer with every passing moment.
Katara, who had been watching the exchange silently, stepped forward, placing a hand on Suki's arm. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice filled with understanding. "We will find Sokka."
Suki gave her a small nod but didn't say anything. The fear for Sokka still weighed heavily on her heart.
"Let's do this," Zuko said, taking the worn slipper from his bag and handing it to June. "Nyla can track my uncle using this."
June, who had been watching the argument unfold with mild interest, took the slipper from Zuko's hands. She gave him a skeptical look but didn't say anything. Instead, she crouched down in front of Nyla, holding the slipper under the massive creature's nose.
"All right, Nyla," she said, her tone casual but focused. "Let's see if you can track down an old man this time."
Nyla's nostrils flared as it sniffed the slipper, the long, whip-like tongue flicking out to taste the air around it. The group watched in tense silence, their eyes fixed on the shirshu, hoping against hope that it would pick up Iroh's trail. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, the air heavy with anticipation.
At first, there was nothing—no response from Nyla except the usual sniffs. Zuko's heart sank slightly, and he wondered if this, too, would be another dead end. But then, suddenly, Nyla's head jerked upward, its massive nose twitching as it caught a scent. The shirshu let out a low growl, its tongue flicking out rapidly as it began to turn its head from side to side, searching for the direction of the scent.
"Nice," June said with a grin, standing up as Nyla's excitement grew. She turned to the group, her usual confident smirk back in place. "Looks like we got a trail."