Chapter 21: Trust

Azula lay back down, the quiet of the night settling around her as she finally drifted into her new, albeit humble, bed. After a second attempt, she'd managed to use the restroom without any issue. Though the mattress was no prestigious down cushion wrapped in silk sheets as she'd known growing up, it was, strangely, enough. The scratchy cotton fabric and the straw-stuffed mattress were leagues beyond the ratty, filthy couches and stained beds she'd slept on for the past two years. For the first time in a long while, Azula felt at ease, resting on a surface that felt clean and—more than that—safe. She sank into the mattress, pulling the rough sheets up to her chin, and her eyelids grew heavy.

Moments later, she was drifting into a peaceful sleep, her consciousness blurring at the edges, thoughts becoming softer, looser.

She blinked her eyes open, sensing the dawn light spilling gently over her bed. The silk sheets felt cool and soft against her skin, enveloping her in a familiar, luxurious comfort. She stretched, savoring the sensation, then froze, a sudden thought stirring her fully awake. Her brows furrowed. Wasn't she supposed to be somewhere else?

Azula sat up straight, her breath catching in her throat as she looked around her childhood room. Her nails were polished to a pristine gleam, her skin unblemished. She felt the fabric of her silk pajamas, the texture unmistakable, and let her hand rest on her chest, right where her scar should have been—but wasn't. She turned to the side of the bed, intending to place her feet on the floor, but only felt more mattress. Confused, she shifted and scooted toward the edge. She stood, her heart beating faster as she took in her surroundings. Her bedroom, untouched, seemed as if she had never left.

Azula's feet padded across the smooth marble floors, her hand trailing along familiar mahogany furniture. The room was immaculate, like a preserved memory. She walked to her dressing mirror, her reflection striking her as if she were seeing herself for the first time. She looked younger—her face smoother, unburdened, her eyes innocent and sharp. No scars, no lines. She barely recognized herself, that untainted face that stared back at her as if from a time capsule.

Movement by the door caught her attention. She turned, her instincts on high alert, and tensed. The figure was small, a silhouette of a boy she knew all too well. The Avatar. She took a breath, her reflexes primed to summon lightning, but before she could act, he vanished. She blinked, bewildered, her body still humming with tension. Her pulse pounded in her ears, yet something about the situation felt strange, surreal.

Then she heard a voice, soft and warm, right by her ear. "That's not who you are anymore."

She spun around and saw him—Aang, just as she remembered him as a child. He stood there, smiling with a warmth that made her heart ache with confusion.

"Come on, let's go!" he said brightly, reaching out and grabbing her hand before she could say a word.

In an instant, they were racing through the doorway, and the world shifted around them. They were no longer in the royal palace but in her mother's garden, the one her family used to keep before her father destroyed it. The air smelled of blooming jasmine and fresh earth, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves. She blinked, taking in the vibrant colors and the sense of peace that radiated from this place.

"Look at the pretty flowers, Azula!" Aang said, kneeling beside a cluster of purple blooms. His childlike wonder was almost contagious. "They're beautiful, like you!"

Azula's cheeks warmed as he said it, a blush creeping onto her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Everything felt off, disorienting. She looked around, noticing the paths and plants she had known as a child, realizing that somehow she was in a place that should have been unreachable. This wasn't real. This had to be a dream—but why was Aang here?

As if reading her thoughts, he looked up at her with a serene smile. "You know, Azula, you can always come here in your dreams. You can always go to happy places, be around people you loved."

At that moment, her brother, Zuko, appeared in the garden, walking alongside Ty Lee and Mai. They all looked at her, smiling. Azula felt a wave of emotion, her chest tightening with an unfamiliar warmth. She wanted to speak, to reach out, but all she could manage was a small smile. Then, further down the path, she saw her mother, Ursa. Azula's eyes widened, and she ran toward her, each step making her feel smaller, younger, until, by the time she reached her, she was a child again, no more than four years old. She wrapped her tiny arms around her mother's knees, looking up with tear-filled eyes, her heart full of longing.

The moment shattered with a sudden crack of thunder. The sky turned dark, and Azula watched in horror as her mother's form began to decay, her face crumbling to dust. Azula's breath hitched, and she stumbled backward, trying to scream, but her voice was trapped in her throat. She spun around, only to see Zuko, Ty Lee, and Mai standing with their backs turned, rejecting her.

Then she noticed her father, standing apart from the others. He held Aang beneath his boot, pressing his foot against the boy's throat with cold precision.

"Do it," he commanded, his voice devoid of warmth. "Finish what you started before. Kill the Avatar."

Azula's hands trembled, instinct pushing her into a battle stance. But her body refused to move, a torrent of emotions holding her still. Tears slipped down her face as she tried to fight back, to tell him she couldn't, that the Avatar had saved her, too—that he was the one who had given her another chance.

Her father's cold gaze bore into her, his voice like ice. "Are you sure it was the drugs that took away your bending? Aren't they out of your body now? Shouldn't it have come back?"

As he spoke, he pressed harder on Aang's neck, and a sickening crack echoed through the darkened world.

Azula's heart twisted with agony, her mouth opening in a silent scream. Finally, she found her voice, a strength she hadn't realized was within her. "I trust him."

With that, she summoned lightning, sending it toward her father. His form twisted, dissipating into mist, his face contorted in a look of bitter disappointment.

She ran to Aang, her hands trembling as she knelt beside him and rolled him over. His face broke into a gentle smile, his eyes twinkling as he raised a hand and lightly poked her nose. "Boop."

Azula shot upright in bed, her chest heaving, sweat beading on her forehead. She glanced around, letting her hands drift along the edges of the small bed, reassuring herself. The room was dark and simple, the walls plain and unadorned. She was back on Air Temple Island, in her new home. She exhaled slowly, a mixture of relief and something close to peace settling over her.

Safe. She was safe. And, as she reminded herself with a quiet sense of wonder, she was here with Aang.