The swamp/Spiritual bond
1
By morning, Appa's saddle had been fully loaded with their gear once more. The group would leave behind the beautiful yet decayed landscape of the Southern Air Temple after a sudden detour that had proven much longer than originally intended, but far more helpful than expected, too. Where the five hearts of the travelers had been uncertain and fearful of the future, now they bore strong determination and inner calm instead… though Guru Pathik told them to meditate frequently and often, in order to keep their chakras effectively open to retain their tranquility and sense of purpose.
He bid them farewell at the courtyard from where they would be taking off: each of the travelers had said their goodbyes in different ways, with Zuko offering a respectful nod in Pathik's direction, Sokka waving with a little more enthusiasm than that, Kino shaking the man's hand excitedly, letting him know he hoped to meet him again someday, and Katara offering the man a quick hug. Aang was the only one who had yet to take his position on the bison's neck, smiling kindly still at the old guru before him.
"Thank you for all your teachings, Guru Pathik," he said, performing a proper Air Nomad reverence. The old man chuckled, returning the gesture. "And thank you for reaching out to me as you did. I wasn't grateful for it at first, but… I learned so much from you."
"You have much to learn still, no doubt: you have yet to master earthbending, after all!" Guru Pathik pointed out, with a cheeky grin. Aang nodded, scratching the back of his head as he smiled awkwardly. "But I must say… even without having mastered it, you are well on your way to becoming a splendid Avatar, Aang."
"I… I appreciate that you think so," Aang said, his smile gaining strength and gratitude. "I hope I'll live up to that."
"Oh, live up to your own potential, young man, not to anyone else's expectations!" Pathik grinned. Aang laughed and nodded again.
"I'll do my best," he said.
He could have simply turned to the bison, climbed on the creature's neck, leaving behind his childhood home for the third time… but he stepped forward and embraced Pathik instead, far more tightly and for longer than Katara had. The guru was startled by the gesture, but he patted Aang's back kindly, smiling fondly.
"I hope we'll meet again," Aang said. Pathik patted his back again.
"Even if our paths don't cross a second time, we are still connected to each other. All of us are. Never forget that, Aang," he said. The Avatar's smile strengthened when he pulled away, grinning proudly at the older man.
"I won't. Though… if we do meet again, we'll have plenty of onion-and-banana juice to celebrate our reunion," he declared: Pathik gasped in delight.
"Well, now! I'll have to look forward to that!" he beamed. Aang chuckled, bowing his head in the guru's direction before finally turning back to his friends.
Appa let out a welcoming groan once Aang sat safely on his neck, as he ever did. The Avatar smiled once again at Pathik, who waved at them as the bison started to hover. Kino and Katara waved in the guru's direction, and even Sokka and Zuko kept their eyes on the old man as they sped up into the sky, finally restarting their journey.
"Ah… what a great guy," Kino smiled, relaxing carelessly on the saddle. "I feel so much better about life after meeting him…"
"Me too," Katara responded, grinning. "I think this part of the journey was really good for all of us."
"It was… and we'll make the most of what we learned, for sure, but we do have to focus again," Sokka said, letting out a deep breath. "I know you guys are thrilled about having opened all your chakras and connecting with cosmic energy and whatnot…"
"Oh, Sokka, you're not jealous of that, now, are you?" Katara smirked. Her brother shot her an unamused glare.
"Jealous of letting go of everything I care about? Not in the least. I stand by what I said," Sokka huffed, reaching for their bags, searching for his map. "And precisely because I do, I'm trying to get us all to focus again. You don't need us to take any other Avatar detours, do you, Aang?"
"Uh… not that I know of," Aang said, smiling awkwardly at Sokka from over his shoulder. Sokka nodded.
"Good, then all we need is… AAAAH!"
His shout startled everyone on the saddle: Sokka yanked back his hand, looking at his index finger in horror: small bite marks were left on his skin, where a burst of pain had bloomed and forced him to pull away from their bags.
"The hell is…?!" Sokka gasped, staring at the bags with utmost displeasure…
A tail. A white tail, patterned with brown rings, swayed from side to side between their many bags.
"What the…?! Momo!" Sokka exclaimed: the lemur's head popped up, right out of their many bags… with crumbs dotting his snout, ineludible evidence of the creature's crime.
"He was eating our supplies?!" Zuko exclaimed, horror-struck.
Sokka growled, lunging for the lemur with a snarl: it spread its arms out, flying out of the cluster of bags and floating off to less hostile territories, namely, Aang's shoulder.
"You damn flying monkey!" Sokka hissed, an eyebrow twitching. "If we end up having to take more unnecessary breaks to hunt and find food because you ate it all, the first thing I'm going to cook will be you!"
"Oh, come on, Sokka! Don't be so grouchy," Aang laughed, reaching a hand up to pat the lemur's head. "I bet he just felt lonely in the Southern Air Temple. It's okay if he comes with us, right?"
"Well, I have no idea what usefulness a lemur can have in a war, but sure, have it your way," Sokka huffed, glaring at Momo still as he continued to rummage through his bags. Finally, he found the map he had been looking for and sighed in relief. "Ugh. Have fun with your crazy stowaway lemurs if you want, but I'm going to chart our course again…"
Their detour to the Southern Air Temple had certainly taught them enough regarding Appa's flight speed and how much territory they would be able to cross in the span of a day. While Sokka certainly wanted them to reach Earth Kingdom territories as soon as possible, they wouldn't be able to do so yet: at best, it'd be two more days before they reached Earth Kingdom shores and that would be by pushing Appa to extremes, with no opportunities for breaks as he traversed a large sea between the final islands of the Air Nomads' old territories and the Earth Kingdom continent. Thus, knowing they'd all need breaks, especially the bison that carried them on his back so faithfully, Sokka wound up charting a less intense trajectory than the one he'd designed before, disregarding his sense of urgency and obeying a need for safety and stability, instead.
Thus, their journey took them through the rest of the Air Nomad mountains, where they took a break that night. Next, they traveled over some mostly empty islands, familiar for many of the travelers: they were the funerary islands for the Water Tribe. Deeper into the islands stood the bamboo forest where they gathered their wood, too…
"Guess if we hadn't taken that detour to the Southern Air Temple we could've been here in a single day, huh…?" Aang had admitted, glancing at Sokka guiltily: the Gladiator waved a dismissive hand in his direction.
"No point in dwelling on it anymore. We all learned a thing or two from that old man anyhow," Sokka replied, reassuringly.
The sunlight wasn't all that strong yet, but it still warmed them plenty as they continued their long journey: they took a break that night by the outskirts of the bamboo forest, and by the next day they were on their way north again… at last, it seemed, headed for their actual destination while avoiding Fire Nation detection.
"That's the Earth Kingdom continent, then…?" Katara asked, dazed upon glimpsing the large landmass ahead – the sun was already setting, so they would have to make camp somewhere safe, away from all human settlements.
"The biggest continent out there!" Kino exclaimed, though he smiled awkwardly afterwards. "Though it's almost the only continent out there? Is the South Pole a continent too? Would the North Pole count as one…?"
"Well, however many there may be… it looks amazing," Katara said, smiling brightly as she rested her forearms on the border of Appa's saddle.
"You've never been so far from home, have you?" Aang asked, gazing knowingly at Katara. She grinned and shook her head.
"No, but… I want to know just how far this journey can take us, to be honest," she determined. "We're not sightseeing, I know that, but… we should probably appreciate beauty wherever we find it, right?"
Sokka sighed, guessing his sister had a point: after six days of traveling, however, he felt himself growing increasingly anxious, only occasionally soothed by that tingling sensation within his body whenever it came up, the potential connection between his energy and Azula's… and just so, whenever the feeling vanished, he'd grow anxious yet again, desperate to feel her near him, somehow.
They were making progress, though, and this time, through territories Sokka knew better than the ones they'd left behind: he asked Aang, on the next day, to fly as high as possible above Gaoling, and to only take a break once they were on the other side of the mountain range that hugged the city. Aang hadn't wanted to push Appa that far, as it was well past dusk by the time they flew over the city, but he obeyed Sokka's indications, nonetheless. Upon finally landing on the mountains, Aang had scrambled off to find any fruit or berries he could feed Appa to make up for the many long journeys he'd had to undertake, one after the other, over the course of the last days.
"Doesn't seem like anyone spotted us, though. I think we should be safe," Zuko said, breathing out as he settled on his spot by the small fire they'd crafted: it wasn't that hazardous to make a fire on this side of the mountain, away from prying eyes, but even if anyone happened to glimpse them at a distance, they wouldn't be likely to guess who they were – if anything, they were likely to be mistaken for common bandits.
"Well, then! We've made it this far now, and we're close to that swamp, aren't we?" Kino smiled at Sokka. The Gladiator nodded, studying the map anew: another day's travels would take them across the swamp, and by then they finally would be able to narrow down the location of the White Lotus's headquarters…
"We can focus on tracking down the base now. No idea how long it'll take us to find it, as far as I know, Jeong Jeong practically has an army of his own, and if they haven't been found so far by the Fire Nation, they probably have a good hiding place…" Sokka said, shrugging before setting down the map. "But I guess we'll figure things out as we go along. If Azula and I could find a Spirit Library sunken in the Si Wong Desert, there's no way the White Lotus is hidden too well for us to track them down."
"With that in mind, though… could they have some sort of underground hideout?" Katara asked, glancing at Sokka with uncertainty. "From your many stories, it sounds like there's a lot of big places and cities with underground tunnels, so… maybe this time it's an underground city in itself?"
"Guess that's not completely impossible…" Sokka said, frowning. "Though I hope they didn't build it underneath the swamp, if you're right."
"We'll have to try to pay attention to find sings and hints of their presence, I guess," Zuko said, glancing at Sokka. "You have that White Lotus tile, right? Maybe, whenever we find anyone near the swamp, we can show them the tile and hope they'll be part of the group too…"
"Not the wisest call if they happen to recognize me, though," Sokka pointed out, frowning. "No idea if they still want me dead, but if I walk up to them with a tile, they might just play dumb and then try to stab me in the back for trying to find them…"
"Oh, really? So why didn't you think of that before we got started on this wild mess of a trip, then?" Zuko huffed. Sokka raised an eyebrow in his direction.
"I did, actually. For one thing, I'll brace myself for whatever bullshit they might fling at me. For another… we have someone perfectly innocent here, with no track record of being our friend or having sketchy alliances of his own, who can use the tile to ask whoever we bump into if they know the White Lotus…"
Sokka, Zuko and Katara all glanced at Kino, who seemed perfectly content to ignore the conversation while stoking the fire. The sudden silence alerted him that he was expected to say something, or do something, and he wasn't sure what. He grimaced, nervously.
"Uh… did I do something stupid again?" he asked. Sokka smiled awkwardly and shrugged.
"Not really. Your spying abilities may come in handy yet again, is all…"
"Oh, great! Uh… wait, what? How? Am I supposed to go anywhere? Do something? Isn't it kind of late already…?"
Sokka chuckled and shook his head, resting his head against the rock he'd taken his seat at. Kino continued to panic, asking the others about whatever was expected of him, and Aang returned halfway through the explanations. With his eyes closed, Sokka could feel that thrumming energy again, he could as good as reach for it… maybe because this very mountain range, so strange as it felt right now, was a familiar place, with memories that still stung but eased his heart more than anything: somewhere within these tall peaks hid Gladiator Rumble. He and Azula had chosen not to run up these mountains, to round them instead, while Toph as good as terraformed them while chased by Renzhi, Aonu, the Light Bearer and the Dark Rook… it seemed like a thousand years ago, and yet it had happened earlier on that very year… he sighed, reminiscing on countless moments he had blocked away, out of grief rather than anything else. Even now, with his chakra clearer than before, he hadn't truly let go of all grief… much as he couldn't let go of every attachment. His grief ensured he wouldn't give up, that he wouldn't stop before he had gone the distance, just as he intended to.
Being back in the Earth Kingdom didn't feel too triumphant just yet… but maybe it would later, once he was ready to face the bulk of their challenges. First, the White Lotus… then, the Fire Nation. It wouldn't be easy, no matter how many ideas he already had thought about to deal with each of the warring factions, and he braced himself to face no end of backlash and strife. Yet, one way or another, he was cutting the distance between himself and Azula. With every step forward, with every day of travel, no matter how slow it felt, he would be making his way back to her… and that was what mattered most.
They set up their sleeping bags after finishing their scanty dinner – Momo truly had eaten far too much for a creature as small as he was, and Sokka had threatened to eat him in retaliation at least twice a day ever since they took off from the Southern Air Temple. The Gladiator insisted that they ought to take turns keeping watch, and he took the first of them until well past midnight. Once Aang relieved him of his duties, Sokka slid inside his sleeping bag, his fist pressed against his chest: each of his heartbeats pulsated against the necklace he held firmly, and he wistfully sent another hopeful thought her way before his need for rest overcame him.
The days that followed Azula's latest breakdown had been, to her utmost surprise, some of the most bearable she'd lived through over the past months. While Song's cover as Wen might slip up when it shouldn't – much as she had that night –, Rei hadn't manifested any discomfort or confusion about their closeness so far. If anything, the young woman appeared even happier these days than ever before: she started conversations, she asked questions about more than her duties or her lessons, and there was a placid air to her, a relaxation and peace that Azula suspected she hadn't experienced at all until she had grown used to her life at Zhao's estate. Even there, it was quite likely that Rei would only feel this way whenever the Admiral wasn't home, when she was free to trot around on the back of her beloved dragon moose.
Both Rei and Song spent longer periods of time in Azula's room now – even though they already spent plenty of it before that night. They only left right before dinnertime, and Azula guessed it'd be that way today, as well: Song lounged carelessly across three chairs she'd drawn out of the annex dining room, intently reading a book on chi, while Azula supervised Rei's latest lessons. She grasped basic ideograms now, and while most verbose books would still be beyond her ability to understand, she could still make out full sentences on occasion, jotting down the unfamiliar words to ask Azula about their meaning and practice them until she remembered them too. Rei continued to be a most dutiful student, and Azula found it even easier to empathize with the girl for it: her thirst for knowledge had opened up completely, and now that she'd gotten started with her lessons, she couldn't seem to have enough of them.
"This one…" Rei asked, pointing at an ideogram comprised by a square, with two inner lines and a small appendix on top. She redrew it quickly in her notes, and Azula hummed as she looked it over. "What does it mean?"
"Blood," Azula said, bluntly: Rei's eyes widened as Azula raised an eyebrow. "Guess that book is too descriptive for your tastes? Might be it really was too advanced, but I did hope you'd learn more words this way…"
"I… I don't know," Rei smiled awkwardly, fiddling with her fingers, switching the brush from hand to hand. "I actually, uh, don't really like the story so far."
"You don't?" Azula smiled. "Well, it's a historical account, not a lot of people enjoy history…"
"It's so hard to grasp," Rei said, tapping her forehead with the bottom of the inkbrush. "Only important people are named, but they… they don't feel real at all."
"They have no personality?" Azula guessed. Rei shrugged.
"It's like the author thinks I already should know these people, but I have no idea who they are," Rei smiled guiltily. "And I don't really know why their choices were important…"
"If you continue reading, you should eventually reach a point where you understand that last part," Azula smiled. "But I suppose you're right, a lot of these books require lots of previous knowledge, understanding of countless events that came before… historians also don't make their work all that approachable, as they're usually trying to be as neutral about things as possible, and that means taking no sides, judging no outcomes…"
"No wonder none of it feels real…" Rei said, with a sad smile.
Her eyes fell upon the word Azula had explained to her earlier: blood. She had seen that term before, once… but where? Before coming here, all writing had been a jumble of lines and figures she couldn't make heads or tails out of. She definitely hadn't seen that symbol before living in the Palace, she wouldn't have remembered it… which meant she'd read it sometime after she'd arrived, and the Princess had supplied her with all her reading materials so far. Which meant…
The letter. The unsent letter she had come across suddenly, on the day the Princess visited her dragon.
She blushed immediately, glancing up at Azula again: the Princess raised an eyebrow, puzzled by her strange apprehension.
"Not that I share your distaste for history, myself, but clearly you love math and I don't, therefore, we're both perfectly free to have our own preferences, Rei…" Azula said, with a crooked grin. Rei flinched, shaking her head.
"T-that's not… not it. It's just… I have seen that symbol before. But I didn't understand it," she said, pointing at her own rendition of the ideogram for 'blood.' "I… I'm sorry. I should have admitted it when I first made that mistake, but I was afraid of making you mad, s-so I… I didn't say anything. But I guess, w-well, after everything…"
"After everything…?" Azula raised her eyebrows: Rei bit her lip and raised her apologetic gaze at her.
"I… found some of your writings, a few weeks ago," she confessed. Azula blinked blankly. "I… I shouldn't have read any of them, and I didn't understand most of it, but… I still looked for longer than I should have, and I'm sorry."
"Ah. I already knew that," Azula said. Rei flinched, before shooting a disbelieving glance at Wen: upon noticing the others had grown silent, she raised her head and returned Rei's stare.
"Did I do something?" Song asked, letting her eyes flicker towards Azula next. The Princess smiled and shrugged.
"You told me you read my papers when you shouldn't have, yes. Bad, bad Wen…" she said, shaking her head. Song grimaced, closing her book and bowing her head in another remorseful display.
"Oh, do forgive me for my most unforgivable trespasses…!" she said, pompously. Azula laughed despite herself, shaking her head before turning to the puzzled Rei again.
"It's okay, Rei. It's my fault for not being upfront about a lot of things… my fault, as well, for not hiding my papers better. You'd think I would have learned after the first time…" she said, rolling her eyes.
Sokka's haiku had been retrieved by now, and they were kept with her own writings these days, stashed safely in a box she'd tossed to the very back of her closet. While both her friends knew what the box contained, Azula trusted neither of them would care to look through it unless she expressly asked them to… which she didn't expect she ever would.
"Then… you're not upset that I…?" Rei asked, with a slow smile. Azula shook her head, and Rei sighed in relief. "I'm glad."
"You don't have to worry that much, Rei. I probably ought to enforce more boundaries here, but… eh. I lack the energy to do it," Azula shrugged. "Anyway, I'm not upset at all. You've deserved answers all along, if anything. It was long overdue when you finally did."
"Well… thank you, anyway," Rei bit her lip, unable to stifle her smile. "Though… if you don't mind me saying so, uh… I think I'd rather read about your life than read this book."
"Oh, now, that's bold of you," Azula laughed: Rei grinned guiltily again. "Unfortunately for you, none of what I've written so far would be enlightening at all. It's all… disjointed and weird, I guess. Most of it won't make any sense to you."
"I guess so," Rei giggled. "But you still did really cool things, right? Like… like saving the Fire Nation. And you helped slaves…"
"Eh, well…" Azula shrugged nonchalantly. Rei bit her lip as Song's voice crossed the room again.
"You should own up to your achievements, Princess. Humility doesn't look good on you," she declared, before feigning focus on her book again. Azula scoffed in her direction, and Song's lips twisted into a wicked smirk.
"As if…" Azula shook her head. "Anyway, I don't think I could write down my life's exploits. Talking about it out loud can be difficult enough as it is…"
"Well, if you do write it down, it doesn't have to be for me," Rei smiled weakly. "It was just a silly idea anyway. But… you said you didn't want to run away from all of it anymore? That could be a way to stop running away from it, too."
"Heh. I'll have to think on that," Azula decided, arms folded over her chest as she regarded Rei with keen eyes. "You sure about the ideogram for your name, then? We absolutely can switch to 'wisdom' now, I think you're ready…"
"What…? No! I like the one I chose!" Rei laughed, shaking her head quickly: Azula smiled warmly at her, still unsurprised by her bashfulness, but relieved to see it receding little by little, with every day she spent in Azula's room.
Her two companions took their leave after nightfall, as they ever did these days. They took off together for dinner just as Azula's own meal was delivered handed to Renkai by a servant with a bowed head. The servant scurried away quickly, in apparent panic, unwilling to be anywhere near the Princess, even now. Azula was unwilling, in turn, to make a fuss about it: the man as good as raced off once his tray was safely delivered, and Azula only sighed, rolling her eyes as Renkai set the tray within the room, as he ever did. The guard captain bowed his head in a respectful manner towards her, as though to reassure her that some people still respected her, no matter if she kept them at a distance… and then he closed the door, leaving Azula to her own devices.
She let out a sigh, running a hand over her long, still irritatingly oily hair. Pregnancy's strange symptoms continued to startle her: it seemed it was time for light lines to appear over her skin too… namely in the area of her womb. Her belly hadn't grown out too noticeably just yet, but she could feel it was different already. She had kept an eye on her weight all her life, even in her most careless moments: she was cautious with her eating habits, always preserving her fitness… and so, she couldn't help but take notice of every change, every slight symptom, every odd reaction of her body beyond her control and understanding. She placed a hand on her belly… and she felt a firmness underneath her skin that wasn't there before.
"Well, damn. Half the time this doesn't feel real, but… I guess I'll have to face that it is soon enough, huh?" Azula said, gazing at the small growth, barely noticeable with her robe in the way. "Sorry for my disbelief, though. Not your fault at all, just… I never really expected to become a mother. Let alone so suddenly, and… and without your father. But if I'm going to prove my own mother wrong and show I'm not that much of a monster, I guess I ought to get to dinner now and feed us both. How about it?"
Evidently, the child inside her couldn't possibly respond, but Azula still smiled to herself as she walked to the dining room. The meal she had been brought was part of a select group of recipes Song had requested from the kitchen staff, meals meant to keep Azula as healthy as possible while she was with child. They weren't quite Azula's predilect meals, and the withholding of spices hadn't encouraged the Princess to eat with proper appetite… but she ate all the same. Even now, guilt over how she'd acted over the first weeks of her pregnancy cut away at her: she could have outright lost the baby after failing to eat, to drink, to even rest for as long as she had…
"Guess you're as strong as him, aren't you?" Azula said, smiling down at her belly weakly after sitting before her table. "Feels like he's protecting you somehow, even if… if that makes no logical sense, eh?"
She breathed out, stroking her womb gently: Sokka wasn't here to properly protect the baby, and she knew he'd likely never forgive himself for that… maybe he'd never forgive her for robbing him of the chance to be there for them, even if she'd done it without her awareness. Though, truthfully… she knew him all too well to truly imagine he'd fail to forgive her. He'd find a way to twist reality into it being his sole fault somehow, in all likelihood…
Azula let out a breath, dropping her head on her hand, an elbow on the table. As things stood, Sokka wouldn't even learn of this until… well, until she could have the child delivered to him in the South Pole, if she could get away with that at all. However upset he might be to realize that she'd faced all the hardships of pregnancy without him, trapped and tormented by her father's every choice, he would protect the baby afterwards… while she had to do so now. She wasn't as strong as him, she doubted she ever had been in the senses that mattered, especially right now… but for the baby's sake, she had to try to be stronger.
"I'm sorry… I've thought it a thousand times, but I guess I'll say it out loud now," Azula whispered: her thumb trailed over the slight bump on her womb, back and forth, right by her navel. "I'm sorry I gave you a hard time at first… when I didn't even know you were here. I… I would've tried to be better, had I known, but… it didn't even cross my mind that I could be with child. I'll… I'll do better. I can protect you now… at the very least, I can try. And the best way to try… is by eating this big tray of food for you, alright? Hope you enjoy the meal too, little one."
She managed a half-hearted grin before starting with her meal: she had taken to talking to the baby more often as of late. It soothed her when she was alone: having someone to protect and look after helped, to a fault, even if she had no idea how to do so, let alone when said someone was a tiny child, probably only slightly bigger than her fist, at this point, according to Song… but it was a strong motivation to keep on living, much like Xin Long's eventual release into freedom was, no matter how disheartened she might feel. She had visited him twice over the past days, and as the same guard had been on duty – he had successfully provided Renkai with his scheduled shifts for the rest of the month –, he had let her feed the dragon and offer him water. As miserable as he remained, it seemed Xin Long's spirits strengthened whenever she could visit him, and Azula was relieved for that. Soon enough, she hoped, he'd be traveling the skies anew… until then, she'd do her best to unravel how to set him free, or at least, to loosen some of the restraints that kept him pinned, nightmarishly, to the ground.
There was so much to think about, so much to worry about… but it seemed to Azula that her life, as unpleasant as it had become, was finally returning to some semblance of normality. She ate thrice a day, slept a proper number of hours every day – she even napped on occasion, if she found she was too tired to stay awake –, and she had broken free, on the most part, from the dark thoughts that plagued her constantly since she had returned to the Palace. It wasn't that those thoughts were entirely absent… but they came up less often, and even when they did, she acknowledged them and brushed them off quickly enough.
Even her old concerns, her deep worries over her father's deadly assassin, had faded, to a fault. She resonated sometimes – even though her bending had yet to regain its strength – to ensure the man wasn't nearby: so far, he had usually been with her father in his study or tailing him on his way to a destination, be it the Throne Room, the Agni Kai Arena or the spa, though occasionally she sensed him in the heights of the Palace's tallest tower. She hadn't noticed him there all along, but she had sensed him making his way upstairs once, and she focused her resonance to follow him all the way until he reached his destination. Ever since, she'd taken to resonating as best she could to find the man there, if she somehow failed to locate him elsewhere.
Tonight, however, he was with her father again, in his study. Perhaps it was quite late for him to be working, but as long as Ozai wasn't anywhere near her, causing her further strife, Azula would be fine. It seemed Ozai wanted his assassin nearby more often than not, these days… as though he were afraid that someone might attempt to harm him, as though he were convinced he might need to order an instant execution eventually, for one reason or another, and he needed his trusty murderer nearby for that purpose. Whatever his reasons, though, the unpleasant assassin hadn't been assigned to watch Azula, it seemed, which offered her a small relief, along with the much larger one that Rei and Song offered for the weary Princess.
She ate quietly, slowly, trying her best to disregard the tastelessness of the meal, and draining the cup with juice that had been brought for her. She had to stay hydrated, too, all of it to make sure the baby would be alright… or as close to alright as possible. It scared her, even now, to think that her recklessness, her misery, her sorrows back in the earlier weeks of development could have damaged the child in any regards…she truly hoped it hadn't happened, but until she could see the baby for herself and confirm it was healthy and whole, she wouldn't be able to believe the chi-readings that reassured her that everything seemed to be on the right track…
Though, ultimately, nothing really would feel right, no matter what. Unless her reality were fundamentally altered, unless Sokka somehow did manage to rewrite the stars – and she wouldn't put it past him, in truth –, there would be no true peace for her again. She raised her right hand, spreading out her fingers… a burst of fire came to life above her palm, and its orange glow bathed her room for moments before she muffled the fire anew, with a disappointed sigh.
"Might just have to ask Song if there's exercises pregnant women are allowed to do," Azula said, with a sigh. "At this rate… I might never bend blue fire again."
Yes, bending blue fire again was, in truth, all she could aspire to: she had as good as given up on evoking gold flames for however long she had left to live.
Renkai reentered the room when Azula called for him: he took the tray, as he always did, though Azula thanked him politely for it nowadays rather than throwing any vicious comments at him, fishing for a reaction. The guard took off to the kitchen anew, leaving Azula to her own devices with a bit more privacy than usual, for however long it took him to return to his position outside the room.
Azula lit her room's oil lamps, then took one to the bathroom with her, intending to clean up again for her hair's sake. Afterwards, she took Rei's usual spot before the desk, drawing out a sheet of paper and some ink, dipping her brush lightly in the black substance, and getting to work.
She didn't write every night, but she did it often enough. She wasn't sure it made her feel better, but she did know it didn't make her feel worse. The knowledge that these letters, unsent as they'd remain forever, would never reach their intended recipient certainly emboldened her to pour out her feelings, her darker emotions, into each text she wrote. Sometimes, she'd simply talk about her day, writing about the latest developments, imagining how he would have felt if he had been here to live them with her. Sometimes she'd talk about her inner demons, the heavy burdens, the unbearable pain that struck her often, upon thinking of him… but today, she wrote about a dream, or rather, a nightmare that had plagued her merely the previous day.
I had that nightmare again last night, the same one I've told you about: your house, consumed by fire. Try as I might to muffle the flames, they just burn brighter, fiercer, and I can't stop them. I keep panicking, my heart racing, fearing that you might be inside… then I wake up drenched in cold sweat and I cry like the fool I feel like, berating myself for my cursed mind's treachery. It should be bad enough that the world is unforgiving on its own, but instead of finding solace within myself, I only wonder if I'm even more corrupt than our reality. If maybe my very soul is irrevocably poisoned by the wrong I've done, and these punishing nightmares are but a consequence of that…
Or maybe I'm just being stupidly overly dramatic, right? Wouldn't be the first time. I'd likely die of embarrassment if you ever read these letters and the utterly pathetic things I've written for you. I can let myself be honest precisely because I know you won't see it, which is ironic and defeats the purpose of writing to you at all, but if it makes any sense, sometimes I feel like you and I are still
Her room's door burst open violently.
She felt her heart leaping out of her chest, and she instinctively closed the letter into a scroll, careless about the likely ink smear all her writing had resulted in. If need be, she'd outright set the paper on fire… and that hinged, solely, on whoever it was that had chosen to invade her privacy in this manner.
She rose to her feet, an arm raised protectively near her womb as she turned her displeased glare to the now open door: the deep brown eyes of Admiral Zhao, however, didn't settle on her. He simply crossed the room's threshold without any explanation, marching towards his assigned cabinets.
Azula's chest had tightened, her heart raced… and those powerful beats seemed to grow in anger as she glared at the Admiral, ever displeased by his behavior. He brought a large bag with him, one he emptied in Azula's laundry basket carelessly.
"Not even going to greet your husband, are you?" he asked, his mocking voice frayed over misuse, Azula suspected. She didn't want to imagine why he sounded like that… she wasn't even going to bother asking him anything about whatever he had been doing as of late, aware that she likely didn't want to hear the explanations anyway.
"Were you waiting for Renkai to be gone before coming here?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows. Zhao scoffed.
"Changing the subject, are we? I suppose you'd sooner pretend we're not truly married…"
"Why would that be a problem for you, if that were the case?" Azula asked, eyeing him warily as he knelt by the cabinets, fishing out sets of clothes, stuffing them in his now empty bag. An acute, pungent smell accompanied the man… a smell she could easily pinpoint as a consequence of drinking. Good thing Rei had already taken off by now… "You're perfectly content to pretend we're not married as well, and I, for one, found that to be our sole common ground so far, so…"
"Ah, so you wouldn't rather I were here, coddling you and talking to that thing in your womb?" he asked dismissively: Azula's gut surged with rejection and wrath. If she were any healthier, she might have even failed to restrain the urge to shoot a blast of fire at the man for speaking of her baby that way…
Her baby. Oh, it wasn't the time to dwell on the meaning of that particular line of thought, and yet she couldn't help herself. It only seemed natural that she'd feel the first surge of feral, motherly protectiveness when her child seemed to be threatened by the bastard who, so far, served as an unwilling smokescreen to hide the true identity of the baby's father.
"No? You're quite sure? Well, to be honest, I don't particularly want to be either," Zhao growled. "So, if you don't mind…"
"I don't. I seriously don't. Which is why I don't understand why you're being so…" Azula started, but Zhao huffed, cutting her off and glaring at her with overblown fury.
"Oh, you don't understand? You can't even venture a guess?" Zhao asked, pushing himself to his feet again, to stare Azula down even as she stood at the other end of the room. "Well, now, are you truly trying to play dumb with me, or did all this madness damage your so-called prodigious mind, Princess? Truly, now?"
"You… you're getting away with all you've done lately solely because nobody gives a shit about me anymore," Azula said, earnestly, unsure of why there was a damn lump in her throat upon speaking to her so-called husband. "You weren't like this before, though. If this is some sort of way to punish me for every stupid choice I've made…"
"Ah, then you are as smart as you acted like, after all!" Zhao said, with a sarcastic laugh. Azula rolled her eyes.
"I wish I could say the same about you," she hissed, picking up her rolled scroll and tucking it away in the desk's cabinet. It was bound to be unreadable by now, but she still would dispose of it when Zhao was gone. Maybe the subject of today's letter would wind up being about something other than her recurrent nightmares…
"Oh, feel free to call me a fool, I certainly deserve it," Zhao said, crouching down and continuing to gather his things. "Fool that I was, I assumed you knew your place and understood your role, that you'd know better than to soil yourself with a savage and waste your so-called promising future in doing so… can you believe it? Had you married someone else, anyone else, you could have simply slept with him on the side and nobody would have had to know if you'd just kept your damn secret quiet! But, heh, you couldn't possibly do that, of course not…"
"And then I condemned both myself and you to this pointless torment that, for reasons beyond me, is driving you mad," Azula said, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at Zhao skeptically. "What do you even want, Zhao? I don't care about what you're doing, or who you're doing, for that matter… you've come here, smelling like a brewery, and there's literally nothing I could do about it beyond asking you to clean up while knowing that, if I so much as say so, you'll likely refuse to do it just to spite me. Truly… what the hell do you want from me at this point? Shouldn't you be thriving in being Crown Prince, now that the role is yours?"
"You, of all people, should understand what said role entails," Zhao said, with a dismissive sneer. Azula's eyes narrowed. "Picking up after your ungrateful bastard of a father is a worthless, painful job I don't care to do. Maybe you should offer yourself for it again, how about it? You certainly liked it plenty, as far as I could tell… not quite as much as you liked sleeping around with that male whore of yours, but still…"
"Male whore?" Azula repeated, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. "Let's not even get into the fact that you've been sleeping around yourself, for who knows how many years, if not for as long as you've been of age, with as many partners as you pleased because, how was it…? Ah, 'you can find the right girl at the right time and not obsess over the same one all along', wasn't it? It had to be something along those lines, yes…"
"You…" Zhao snarled, as Azula returned the words he'd spoken to someone else in this Palace, years ago, while utterly, blissfully unaware of the true danger the Gladiator posed for the Fire Nation…
"But how about the fact that you used to respect him, enough to tell him to use his feelings for me to protect me and fight for me? To embrace his inner darkness and make use of it for his benefit?" Azula asked, cocking her head to the side: Zhao's snarl strengthened with every word she returned at him. "How about your willingness to share your stories with him, your trust in him, your offer to let him stand by the funerary pyre of a man who once was his friend, hell, your offer to track down the Southern Raiders' old captain so he could learn what truly happened to his mother? Did I hallucinate all of that? Aside from being entirely daft, am I also losing my grip on reality to the point of somehow thinking you, at some point, came into this room to offer me your help in this situation, even if you achieved nothing by it? Is it all really just my idea, then, and none of it was real?"
"Shut up," Zhao hissed. Azula snorted, shaking her head.
"Grand response. Now I'm sure I hallucinated everything, then. The eloquence I recall from Admiral Zhao certainly couldn't be the product of a mind whose best comeback in an argument is 'shut up', so…"
"You saw to the destruction of all that respect yourselves, you pair of utter, mindless fools!" Zhao roared, pointing a finger at Azula. "You were two brats, children playing at being grown, in the end. You're not ready to face the hard truths of this world, neither of you were! Otherwise, you'd have heeded my words, the two of you. I suppose you were already a slave to him yourself, by then? Seeing as he told you everything we talked about? I suppose you were one all along, must have been the sole reason why you were so determined to see to the success of a gladiator of such inferior birth and power…"
"So inferior he wound up defeating the so-called best gladiator in the League. Makes perfect sense," Azula said, arms folded over her chest. "You do realize it wouldn't have ended any better for Combustion Man if he had been in proper shape? If he hadn't been starved, beaten and locked up for days before their fight? If anything… he would've died all the faster. Must be why you're so upset, huh? So far, it seems like you and my father are terribly upset about Combustion Man's death… when you both used that man as a hitman, targeting sponsors you despised and making him kill their gladiators if you were displeased with them for any reason. Care to explain, then, why it's such a bad thing if I had my Gladiator killing yours when it's, fundamentally, the same damn thing?"
"You… you would liken it to the same thing, now, wouldn't you?" Zhao hissed. Azula shrugged.
"Why not? My father himself did it, ages ago," Azula said. "He said… he said my Gladiator was my own executioner. Guess all I did that day was prove him right, and what Fire Lord doesn't want to be proven right…?"
"You've lost all sense, all grasp on reality, truly…" Zhao said, stumbling back to the cabinets and shaking his head. "As if… as if it were remotely the same thing…"
"Right, the only reason why it's not is because you were the losing party this time," Azula said, bluntly. "And in the end, I have no idea why we're arguing about this. Why we're arguing at all, to begin with. You keep picking fights without needing to do so at all. You were bothered by my behavior before, you don't need to be bothered about it anymore: I'm out of bed, I'm talking, I'm answering your questions…"
"You're attempting to guilt me over my absence, over not taking care of Rei," Zhao retorted, bitterly. "As if you weren't rejoicing while I'm gone. Absence doesn't make the heart fonder after all, now, does it?"
Azula glared at him spitefully: certain absences were no doubt welcome… others were felt so deeply it was as though the blood in her veins had been replaced by ice water that seemed poised to kill her with every heartbeat. Zhao's absence, of course, would never produce the latter effect in her.
"You don't need to take care of Rei, as things stand," Azula said, with a shrug. "You don't even need to stop doing whatever you're doing, if that's all you're interested in doing anymore… but if you're going to enter this room, you don't need to kick the door as though you were trying to tear it off its hinges. If you're going to talk to me, for whatever wild reason you'd want to, you don't need to do it just to shove in my face that…"
"That this whole cursed, damnable situation we're stuck in is your fault?! Why, certainly! Why shouldn't I accommodate your precious feelings, Princess?" Zhao said, dramatically. Azula rolled her eyes: why on earth had she thought he'd listen to reason? He was utterly wasted and fully invested in his fury. So keen he was on judging her for her emotions, yet he had thrown his own life off the rails over his own emotional outburst without reflecting at all on his own actions, from the sound of it… "Had you known any better, none of this would be happening! We're stuck with each other, in a marriage neither of us wanted, just because your father decided to take out half his wrath on each of us! And mind you, I have no reason to feel sorry for you when I'm stuck paying the price for your fun, your mistakes, your misdeeds, your murders, even of the destruction you left in your wake…! I had nothing to do with any of it! I never supported you through any of it…!"
"And nobody expected you to. I certainly never expected you to," Azula scowled. "So, that's it? You're taking out your frustrations by shouting at me? I've ruined your life, much as I've ruined my own, Crown Prince Zhao? You could be out there commanding forces if you so much as wished to be. You could be raising your daughter the right way if you cared to be part of her life. You can just jump from brothel to brothel, from tavern to tavern, and I assure you, I won't even bat an eyelash about it: why the hell are you acting as though you had the short end of any deals here, when I've lost everything and you've gained most, if not all my damn privileges now that they're not mine anymore? You get to sit by my father's right hand! You get to shape the Fire Nation with him, in whatever capacity he allows you to do so! How are you resenting me for it instead of seeing this as… as the greatest damn blessing you've ever received? I expect nothing from you. I expect absolutely nothing. Yet you're acting like… like I'm making a mess of things for you, just because I exist, I suppose?"
"Perhaps, yes," Zhao snarled: Azula scoffed. "I never wanted a wife…"
"You don't even have one, as far as either of us are concerned," Azula growled: Zhao's eyes widened. "A fucking piece of paper and a lit candle… can just be nothing more than that. They are for me. I don't see why it's a problem for you to see it that way, when you certainly act like it's not real, as it is."
"Ah, you don't, then?" Zhao said, eyeing her skeptically. "You have no idea… none at all, of why I'd be so displeased with you? Not even the slightest suspicion? Then you really are that blind to reality, in the midst of all your treachery… either you underestimate all of us that badly, or you overestimate yourself: either way, you're a fool. But to think that you're so self-assured, so confident… to this moment, do you truly believe you have a winning hand? Really?"
"How, exactly, can you interpret anything about me as confident arrogance as I am right now?" Azula scowled. "Didn't I literally say I'm powerless? Don't you have all the power I now lack? Under what pretense… what manner of delusion could I possibly be experiencing to think I'm winning here, considering how widely different my current circumstances are to what they used to be? Am I really the one underestimating others, or are you truly incapable of seeing through whatever boogeyman you've made out of me?"
"Oh, it's you, it's most certainly you… and if you aren't underestimating us all now, you certainly were, back then," Zhao said, raising his eyebrows. "Everything you did… you did it to save the sorry hide of a common man. You lost everything for sure, and yet I bet, oh, I just bet… that you smartly decided that, as long as you had saved him, you could endure whatever your father might inflict upon you, all be it for his sake."
Azula's heavily furrowed brow almost hindered her vision by now: Zhao rose to his feet, tightening the straps of his bag and slinging it back on his shoulder. His arrogant, yet vacant expression, eerily reminded Azula of Ozai's own behavior, right after he caught Xin Long…
"Quite a shame, then, that you didn't save him at all."
She stopped breathing.
Zhao stared back at her, merciless, unaffected by the stricken expression on the Princess's face. He raised an eyebrow, letting his eyes flutter down to her womb… he couldn't see any growth yet, but he snarled, knowing even now that she had to be further along than she was pretending to be. Curse her and her lies, her willingness to destroy everything for the sake of one rotten man…
"Did you really think he'd stop with just one punishment? Two?" he asked, his voice softer, yet no less cruel than before. "Did you think he'd have enough without seizing the chance to spit on his corpse? That chance is bound to arrive sooner or later… fifty ships must have attacked the Southern Water Tribe almost a whole month ago now, if everything proceeded smoothly. Care to guess what the outcome must have been? The Southern Water Tribe's corpses must still float in the melted waters of their accursed hellscape now… if wild sea beasts haven't devoured them all, of course."
Azula's body trembled, powerfully, fully. Her eyes widened, her voice suddenly failed her, she couldn't even find it… no. He had to be lying, he couldn't be serious: fifty ships? An attack…
She hadn't been able to stop her father, she hadn't even been able to try. No, no, no…
"But ah, your savage surely won't share the fate of his brethren: Ozai wanted his dead body brought back to him, after all. He won't rest, won't relent, until he sees it… and I bet it won't be long before it arrives. Almost two thousand soldiers, storming on the pitiful Southern Water Tribe? They won't stand a chance… no matter how mighty your Gladiator may have been, he can't survive those odds. Your own fault, like I said… for thinking a common, simple man could be worth so much more than what he was. And look at what all your glorifying of him resulted in, huh?"
Azula's trembling grew more violent as she shook her head, rejecting Zhao's words: she nearly stumbled over her chair, shivering, withdrawing into herself, into overpowering grief… just what Zhao had wanted, or so she would have realized, if only her mind had any rational thoughts left: flashes of nightmares crossed her mind, visions of Sokka's countless close calls, the horror that had plagued her whenever she had thought she'd lose him… he couldn't have failed now. He couldn't have fallen yet. She couldn't accept it… she couldn't accept it…
Yet Zhao's confidence, and his regained calm upon seeing her shattering, only seemed poised to force her to do so:
"My condolences, wife of mine: the death of your dear Blue Wolf shall forever weigh on your conscience, won't it?"
A whimper broke through her: a sign of weakness she would have never showed Zhao under any other circumstances. Her trembling hand failed to find purchase, even if the desk was right behind her, but the shivers were so powerful she found herself bumping into the desk, slowly sliding down against it until she wound up on her knees.
Sokka couldn't have died. It didn't make any sense. There was no way he'd be dead, even if she had failed him, he would never fail her! Where she faltered, he'd step in and show the strength she lacked: whatever Ozai had thrown at him, Sokka had to have found a way to survive, to fight back, to even turn the fifty ships against themselves, to win over the enemy with his charisma, much as he had won her over…
He couldn't be dead. He couldn't have died, no matter what forces Zhao and Ozai had plotted to send there, he couldn't have…
"Now… that's much better," Zhao's now calm voice reached her: her hands balled into fists by her face, as she struggled to keep the tears in check. "If you truly know you're not in power anymore… you'd do best to act like it, Princess Azula. Forget your place again, and who knows what dark new surprises your nefarious destiny might yet hold for you."
He didn't bother cleaning up – he didn't care to, and nobody was about to make him do so. He left the door open in his wake, and he nearly bumped into Renkai, who was finally back: the guard slowed upon glimpsing the Admiral, who simply moved past him without acknowledging him at all. Renkai grimaced, watching him go… before dashing to the open door, wary of whatever the new heir to the Fire Lord might have done to the previous one.
"Prin-… Princess?" he gasped: he had witnessed her in the midst of a breakdown not that long ago, but he had anticipated anger, frustration, displeasure over her legal husband's unwanted visit…
Not sheer desolation and anguish. Certainly not that.
Her hands clawed at her hair, droplets of tears sprinkled down her wide-open eyes in a wordless torrent: her breath hitched with each silent sob, and it was clear to Renkai, immediately, that the Princess was in shock. She wasn't conscious of her reactions, not even of his presence…
He grimaced, stepping forward and removing his helmet, hoping that seeing a proper face rather than a mask would serve her better. His gloved hand fell upon her shoulder, and he shook her gently once, then twice: a sudden gasp, a whimper, and then her gold eyes, so vacant a moment ago, were bursting with such unbridled, powerful emotions that Renkai nearly lost his balance at the sight of them: it seemed as though every feeling he had ever experienced in his life, gathered together in a single instant, would still amount to but a fraction of the ones the Princess was undergoing right now.
"R-Ren… R-Renkai…?" she gasped, her voice shaking as well. "He didn't… t-tell me he didn't do… m-my father, he didn't order… h-he couldn't have…"
"Order… what? Is it… something to do with the child?" Renkai asked, grimacing. "I've received no new orders. I don't know what you mean…"
"S-… S-…" Azula cringed at her own weakness: again, reduced to the absolute inability to so much as speak his name: she whimpered again before slamming a fist into the cabinets of her desk.
"Princess!" Renkai gasped, alarmed. Azula gritted her teeth: the pain would allow her to focus. The pain helped her regain her bearings, to a fault…
There was no way Renkai could know, not when he had been pushed out of the fold as he had been. If she wanted answers…
If she wanted answers, she'd do best to ask them of the man responsible for the most unforgivable sin of all. The man responsible for every shred of misery she had experienced over the course of the past three months.
At last, she managed to find her voice, her strength, when her determination, blended with her fury, assembled into proper shape at last:
"I have to see my father… Now."
A jolt, unpleasant rather than reassuring, struck Sokka's soul this time: he flinched awake suddenly, with a loud breath. His eyes were immediately wide, no matter how blurry his surroundings might be…
"Hey. What's wrong with you?"
Zuko's harsh voice should have grounded him… yet it didn't. A foreboding tingle, an unwanted message, seemed to have taken residence inside him. He shuddered, snarling, willing to reject it… and yet it had weaseled into him so powerfully it seemed as though his whole body was wracked with feelings he should have shaken off in the Southern Air Temple: guilt, shame… fear?
Were those his own feelings… or were they hers?
"Sokka?" Katara called for him next: she slipped close to him, setting a hand on his brow as though to check him for a fever. Sokka shook his head, and thus, shook her hand off as he rose to a sitting position.
He rubbed his eyes frantically, breathing heavily: everyone was awake, and the sun was rising, and… and they had to go. They had to go, that was all he knew, because the sooner they took off, the faster he could make those dark feelings go away. The sooner they left… the sooner he'd be back at her side, ensuring she'd never feel this way again.
But why? Was this really their connection, bridging them together this way? Was he glimpsing a sign of the suffering, the horrific torment that had been inflicted upon her since they had been apart? He couldn't take it if that were the truth. If this strange sensation had a meaning as deep as that, then…
"Hey. Sokka."
Katara's voice snapped him out of his reverie… only to a fault, though. Sokka glanced at her, his anxiety apparent in his tense posture, in his frightened eyes.
"A bad dream?" Katara guessed, but Sokka shook his head.
"No, I… I don't know what it was," he said, frowning. "Just… a bad feeling. A really bad feeling, suddenly, I don't know what it means, but… everyone's up already?"
"Oh, yeah. We thought we'd let you sleep for a little longer, since you were on watch duty for most the night…" Kino explained: Sokka shook his head vigorously.
"No need. I'm fine. We can just go now…"
"Uh, breakfast?" Aang pointed out. Sokka gritted his teeth, lowering his head. Katara scoffed.
"My brother, unwilling to have breakfast? Sokka, what the hell is the matter?"
"I wish I knew, Katara, but I know that… that something's wrong. I have no idea what, I just… I just…"
Sokka gestured aimlessly with a hand, shivering as though it were freezing – although the temperature was far more agreeable in this mountain range than in the South Pole. Somehow, it was as though his own body weren't his… as though so many of his reactions weren't entirely his doing. And yet that unpleasant sensation, that warning sign earlier…
It reminded him, eerily, of the same feeling that had kept him up that night, right before the Imperial Guards stormed his house in the Fire Nation.
"Hey… Sokka," Katara spoke again, though her tone was much softer now: Sokka's heavy breathing upon making that connection only worried her further. "I don't know what this is… but you're acting like, well…"
"Like you did when you showed up in the South Pole in the first place…?" Kino suggested. Katara grimaced but nodded.
"Kind of. Sokka, if this is about… about her?" she said: her brother grimaced, and Katara reached out to clasp his hand with hers. "Eating breakfast won't delay us significantly from reaching her, okay? We can eat fast if you want… but take it easy, okay? We still have a long way to go before you can save her. Breathe, Sokka. Do it a few more times, and then we'll eat, and we'll take off right after that's done. Alright?"
He knew she spoke sensibly and without judgement, even if he expected some of it. If not from her, then from the others… but none came. Everyone seemed worried about him… he was causing unnecessary trouble by letting this strange, foreboding and unwanted sensation wreck his common sense… and worst of all, he was wasting time that would have been best spent eating so they could be on the road as soon as possible.
"Okay. Okay," he nodded at Katara: she offered him a tight-lipped smile, pulling him closer to the fire: Zuko had been warming some of their meat reserves there, while Aang ate some of the fruit he had foraged last night.
Even though they ate quickly, even though they packed their bags and climbed on Appa's saddle as fast as possible, Sokka's unpleasant, unwanted sensation didn't fade quickly enough for his tastes. He trembled where he sat, unsure of what to do, his mind torn to pieces after it had been so composed, too… he tried to meditate, closing his eyes, attempting to clear his head from dark thoughts, but how to do so when those dark thoughts manifested within his body in such a physical manner? Maybe he should just let them in rather than block them out, in order to properly interpret what they were…
"Well, damn… I guess this is the swamp?"
Kino's voice broke Sokka's concentration: he didn't chide the only other non-bender in the group for interrupting him, though, and he joined him in glancing down at the expanse of vegetation that spread down below, before their eyes. It looked perfectly normal from here – perhaps they were too high in the sky to be affected by whatever spiritual energies permeated the place.
Was that it, though? Sokka's eyes narrowed as he pondered the possibility. He'd had a dreadful vision once, in the vicinity of this very swamp. They hadn't been all that close to it while they rested for the night… could its reach be so wide as to spread beyond its territory? As bad as his dream had been during the Race, he managed to shake it off quickly, much as Azula had. Reality hadn't been tinged with the strange coating of desperation that currently seemed to seize his senses completely…
"Looks pretty big," Zuko grimaced, eyeing the swamp with uncertainty. "Good thing we know they're not supposed to be inside the swamp, I guess…"
"Say, what's the plan, exactly, when we find the White Lotus?" Katara asked, glancing at her brother meaningfully. "I know we want to strike an alliance with them, but do you want to improvise what you'll tell them, or…?"
"I have no idea right now," Sokka confessed, with a shrug: all he wanted to do was focus on that dark sensation inside him, to unravel what it meant, and he had very little attention left for their current circumstances. "Guess improvising, yeah."
"Well, I think you should… woah," Aang had started a sentence, glancing back at the rest of the group from his position on Appa's saddle… until his gaze traveled further than that. "What on earth is that?"
The other four had been focusing on each other until Aang's voice caused their attention to shift towards something else anew: all their eyes flickered in the direction of Appa's tail… yet what caught their attention was behind the flying bison.
They had very little time to react when the threat rushed faster, so much faster in their direction: what had started as a small tornado when Aang had glimpsed it had increased in size, and now it threatened to wreck the trees below as it rushed towards them.
"Fly! Fast!" Zuko shouted, immediately on edge. "We have to outrun that thing!"
"Evasive maneuvers! That should work!" Kino suggested: Aang grimaced.
Sokka's eyes followed the rapidly approaching tornado with a stern scowl: Katara reached for his hand and he clasped hers protectively, intending to see to her safety if the damn thing reached them… and it seemed it would: it anticipated Appa's every move, chasing him so effectively the large creature couldn't help the surging fear that threatened to overcome him.
"The hell is this?! Ugh! Aang, can you try to… out-bend it?!" Zuko suggested. Aang huffed.
"What, like… spinning it the other way around?!" he asked. Zuko shrugged.
He didn't wait for Sokka's confirmation before attempting that plan: Aang leapt from his spot at Appa's neck, joining the others in the saddle as he gathered as much air as he could, pouring it into the tornado…
Only for it to grow stronger over his attempt to shut it down.
"Ah, damn, that didn't work…!" Aang gasped, glancing at the others warily. "What do we…?!"
"Grab onto the saddle!" Sokka shouted, wrapping an arm around his sister. "Try your best not to let go! Appa, yip yip to the max, you hear me?!"
Even Momo was frightened: he rushed into their bags again, as though hoping they would be a safe harbor from the storm that had chased them and was almost upon them: Aang whipped up a new, strong cluster of air to protect their group… but the winds were far too powerful, both of them.
Instead of counteracting the tornado, Aang only seemed to fuel it into an explosive breaking point.
The next thing Sokka knew, he was falling. He was falling, from insane heights, as had happened countless times before, but no Princess, no dragon, no rooftops or slopes awaited him: instead, he fell at alarming, constantly increasing speed…
Into the mysterious, swirling, dangerous swamp that awaited him down below.