The swamp/Spiritual bond
2
It was almost a shame that Shaofeng had tracked down the assassin through his own, devious means before the miserable wretch could strike at the Fire Lord. If only Ozai hadn't already chosen to take advantage of this situation for his personal benefit and advancement, it would be a waste to stop the northern savage's attempt to kill Fire Lord Azulon for once and for all.
Ozai had expected to be sidelined, as he ever was. Still, the first attempt to take down the assassin was a catastrophic success, for the Fire Lord had survived at the cost of the lives of several Imperial Guards. The waterbender escaped to the Capital city's outskirts, therefore, Ozai chose to join the fight and help pursue this deadly foe that the mighty and incomparable Fire Lord Azulon hadn't neutralized quite as effectively as he'd intended to.
Ozai's Royal Guards accompanied him, a group of men fiercely loyal to the Fire Nation, ready to give their lives for their Fire Lord, if need be… or for their Prince, if he required them to do so. He wouldn't want them to sacrifice themselves, however… if things took an unexpected turn, regardless of Shaofeng's information, it was entirely possible, even if not particularly probable, that Fire Lord Azulon might indeed perish over the actions of that mad waterbender. If he did, Ozai would be the only one prepared to take the throne at the moment, since Iroh was far away, leading troops in the Earth Kingdom… retaining power wouldn't be easy, but as long as he kept his personal allies safe, alive and close by, he would be able to stop Iroh if he attempted to claim the throne later.
Such treacherous thoughts wouldn't have crossed his mind merely ten years ago, when he had been young, foolish and naïve enough to believe his father would one day learn to appreciate him. But in the absence of effective ways to rebel against his father, Ozai could at least do so in the privacy of his mind… and thus he did, bitterly hoping to only catch this assassin after his job was tragically finished, while knowing he wasn't bound to be as lucky as that.
"This is the neighborhood where he has taken refuge, Prince."
Shaofeng had been the one to discover the assassin's whereabouts: a squad of Imperial Guards followed them, as well as two squads of Domestic Forces officials. Yet, to Ozai's delight, the only one who seemed to know where to locate the enemy was none other than his recently promoted guard captain, Shaofeng. How he had come by the knowledge of the assassin's attempt on Azulon's life, and of his current whereabouts, Ozai didn't know and didn't care: all it meant was that he had chosen a better guard, a better leader for his troops, than those his father had chosen. It was more evidence of how superior a leader Ozai was, no matter if Azulon refused to see it.
"Search every house," Ozai commanded: Shaofeng nodded, bowing his head towards him. "Be cautious: if this waterbender is anywhere near as powerful as reported, defeating him may be challenging."
"I'm certain we won't let you down, Prince," Shaofeng replied: Ozai could almost see the cheeky grin behind the man's helmet, and he smirked back at him for it.
"I know you won't. Go on, then," he said, jerking his head towards the nearby rundown houses.
In the years of Azulon's rule, the industrial areas near the bay had become bleak, unpleasant places that the majority of the upstanding citizens of the Capital would never set foot in. Ozai took no pleasure in being there, inhaling the unpleasant smoke of the factories' fumes, eyeing the tasteless, unsteady architecture of the poorly-built houses in the vicinity. A group of Domestic Forces officers stayed with him while the rest of the force, including his guards, took off to decipher the exact hiding place of this assassin and his associates, whoever they might be…
The hard steel in the soldiers' voices clashed with those of the displeased locals, hostile over the invasion of their privacy. They didn't care if their Fire Lord was murdered by some waterbender, then? Such disloyalty, truly… Ozai couldn't help the slight smirk that decorated his features upon reasoning that the people genuinely had no love for their Fire Lord, much as he didn't…
After about ten minutes, a sudden ruckus startled the near-bored Prince: he whipped his head around in the direction of the noise, and some of the Domestic Forces officers with him stepped towards the source of the sounds. Frightened screams, then angry shouts… then the unequivocal sounds of battle. Ozai's blood nearly sang with the urge to join in…
But before he could think to do so, he glimpsed a shadow crossing the rooftops, not far from where they stood.
His eyes widened: even in the darkness of the night, he was sure he had seen someone there, dashing between the houses…
"Come! To me!" he ordered the officers near him.
Only a handful followed him, jumping on the rooftop where he'd seen the silhouette. Ozai leapt there, powered by his firebending, leading the others in the direction where the shape had moved towards… a set of rapidly flying ice spikes shot right towards them when they landed.
It happened so fast that Ozai almost thought he'd been hit: an array of razor-sharp ice blades, aimed with perfect precision… and all of them were now lodged in the bodies of the men who had followed him up to the roof.
His previous confidence vanished entirely in the face of the deadly threat before him: it might be him, not Azulon, who would bite the dust that day. The waterbender was there, and with a mere flick of his hand, he had summoned another set of spikes to fling at him.
Ozai snarled, charging a fire blast that clashed, head-on, with the projectiles… but where he had expected to have a chance to flee, an opportunity to call his forces to help him, he found the curtain of steam, the outcome of the clashing attacks, merged quickly again into water… into spikes. In a matter of instants, in the blink of an eye… just like that, his attempt to defend himself had proven entirely useless as his opponent reclaimed the water particles left dangling in the air.
"No… NO!" he shouted: he hoped his voice would alert someone, anyone, of what was happening. Where could he go? Where should he run? How to avoid the deadly attack of a foe who seemed to control water with a perfect mix of instincts, aptitude, and versatility?
He thought to jump off the rooftop, he thought to rush to the next house, but wouldn't the spikes still chase him then? Did he even have the slightest opportunity to survive now that it was only him and a handful of corpses atop a roof…?
The spikes flew at him: Ozai attempted to charge another fire blast, knowing he was far too late, knowing he would likely be impaled by the projectiles before he could fight back…
A smoke cloud burst to life, enveloping the shards of ice when they were mere inches away from Ozai's chest.
Then, there was nothing.
Ozai gasped: the waterbender, across him, flinched and scowled at him.
"The hell did you do, smokebreather…?!" the man shouted, his mad voice setting Ozai on edge. "The hell was that?! Funny little trick, is it?!"
The water was gone. It had to be completely gone, otherwise that man wouldn't be so cross and distraught, unable to gather it again to strike at Ozai, as he had before. He hadn't expected his attack to fail… much as Ozai hadn't, frankly: what on earth had happened?
The waterbender raised his hands anew: he conjured an even larger barrage of ice from the waterskins he carried on his waist. All of the spikes were meant to strike Ozai, and if they landed, he'd most certainly not live past that night…
Briefly after he tossed them, a wall of smoke surged between the assassin and the Prince once again. Ozai heard the man roar a war cry, then the sound of the ice spikes cutting across the air… then nothing.
The wall of smoke had destroyed the man's projectiles for the second time.
A desperate, fearful cry now poured out in the assassin's frantic, feral voice. Ozai scowled, unsure of what to do, unable to see past the clouds of smoke before him: he wanted to pursue the man, he would be fleeing by now…
"Don't. He might hurt you."
The new voice Ozai heard froze him on his footsteps: he turned his head quickly towards its source… to find nothing. There was nothing where that voice had come from…
"What is…? Where are you?! Show yourself?!" Ozai bellowed, trembling.
"You needn't fear…" the voice spoke again: it was further away now, and Ozai grimaced as he forced his ears to follow it. "You will be safe."
"What is…?!"
"P-Prince Ozai! Prince Ozai, what has happened?!"
One of his guards leapt, powered by his firebending, jumping on the roof and landing just beside him. Ozai snarled at him before gesturing at the smoke wall.
"He went that way! Give him chase, go around the smoke…!"
"The… the smoke? What smoke?"
Ozai scoffed: when he glanced at the smoke wall again, however, there was no sign of it anywhere.
He trembled, astonished and aghast: what the hell had just happened? Had he imagined everything? It was impossible… he'd heard that voice, the waterbender had tried to kill him and failed: the corpses around him, covered in melting ice spikes, meant the man had succeeded at killing everyone but him. And the only reason why he had survived was that strange presence with that odd, sandpaper-like voice he had just heard.
The guards who climbed the roof did as Ozai told them to – Shaofeng dashed in, reassuring Ozai that the assassin would be caught, before rushing after the rest of the group, in pursuit of the madman who had nearly killed their Prince. Ozai, however, lingered in place… disregarding, entirely, the calls by the Domestic Forces officers who asked him to climb down and join them anew.
Instead, his eyes flickered towards the spot where the voice had been, and he rushed in the direction where he'd heard it moving, before.
"Where are you?!" he called, the waterbending assassin as good as forgotten now. Whoever this was, they were real. He had to find the strange, invisible entity that had, somehow, saved his life with that strange smoke… he had to. Whoever they were, their abilities were unmatched, like no fire he had ever seen before…
He called again, bellowing as loudly as he could, until he finally slowed down, too deep in the industrial zone to so much as figure out his bearings anymore. He laughed, shaking his head, hoping his men had tracked down the damn assassin after all, for he wasn't particularly likely to do so anymore. He shouldn't have been so reckless, he knew as much, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him…
He crouched down on one rooftop, catching his breath for a moment, rubbing his face with a hand as he gazed about himself: had he changed directions considerably, at some point? He might have, the buildings were so uneven and strange, some tall, others small… he had certainly lost all sense of direction from here. It was so dark, so late… would he have to spend the night out on a rooftop, at this rate? Curses, his father would mock him to no end for it, if he did…
"You've lost your way."
Ozai gasped, jumping to his feet: there was nothing in the place where the voice had spoken, but he'd heard it again. He wasn't mad, that enigmatic person was there…
"Show yourself," Ozai said, breathing heavily, sharply. "Whoever you are…"
Threatening someone who had helped him wasn't the wisest course of action, though, was it? However curious he was, he had to think this through. If someone had saved him, surely it was because he knew Ozai was the Prince. Perhaps, then, a promise of reward…?
"You've saved my life. A Prince is indebted to you: the least you can do is allow me to present my gratitude properly," Ozai said, his voice tone shifting into feigned tranquility.
There was no answer at first… but then the voice drifted from the same direction, yet again.
"You needn't thank me. I ask for no rewards."
Ozai scoffed, staring at the space where he heard the voice… a flicker of brightness down below, perhaps by a torch down the streets, allowed him to catch sight of a strange glimmer, right in front of him…
"You're invisible?" he asked. "That… sounds unthinkable. How…? How are you doing this?"
"It is no skill you should learn. The sacrifice required is too great."
"Sacrifice?" Ozai repeated, with a scoff. "You defeated that monster of a waterbender, you could have even destroyed him the way you did his spikes… couldn't you? What you have… is a gift. A power unmatched by anything I've ever seen. Whatever sacrifice is needed, I'd make it if it meant…"
"No. Please… don't."
Ozai frowned: the glimmer now shifted… into blackness. Suddenly, the invisible man wasn't so invisible anymore: a figure clad in a dark hood, in blackened robes, stood before him. A mask covered his face, gloves hid away his hands…
"Who are you?" Ozai asked, eyes wide.
"It is… unimportant who I am. You are Prince Ozai, however. Your life is valuable. You should not waste it," the man said. Ozai scoffed, shaking his head.
"You seem quite alive to me, though. It doesn't seem like gaining your power would result in death, or would it?"
"It would result in… a fate worse than death. Living death," the man responded. Ozai scoffed again.
"What on earth does that mean?" he asked. The man before him lowered his head…
Then, he removed his mask.
Ozai's eyes widened: he had never seen a sight quite like the one before him, even if the darkness of the night hid the finer details. Yet he could see the pale skin, tearing slowly, hanging loosely over the faded muscles. Where the skin wasn't tearing off, it was stained, blotches of darkness scattered across the strange man's body. Where his eyes should have been white, a network of black veins seemed to crisscross around the blackened irises and pupils: there was something rotten, something sick, underneath the man's very skin.
Was that the source of his power, then? Ozai's lips parted as he took in every detail he could before the man covered his face again, stepping back.
"This is no gift. I cannot belong anywhere, neither among the living nor among the dead," the man said. "You are a Prince. You should never be burdened… with this corruption."
Ozai frowned heavily, unmoving, processing the shocking revelation by the masked man before him. He seemed moments away from fading into invisibility again… and before he knew it, Ozai had raised his hand, reaching for the putrid, sickly man.
He froze in place, visibly trembling when the Fire Lord's son nearly touched him. Ozai drew back his hand before reaching him, though, his chest heaving as he scrutinized the man with uncertainty.
"You… still haven't told me who you are. Where you've come from," Ozai said. The man appeared perplexed now, raising his head to meet the Prince's gaze with his own, through his mask.
"I shouldn't have to. You… should go home. I can help you find your way back…"
"No. Not until I know who you are, how you can do the things you do… and until I know your price, I suppose."
"My… my price?" the man repeated.
A slow smirk spread over the Prince's features. The strange man appeared moments away from toppling off this rooftop in sheer confusion and astonishment over the royal's reaction.
"I don't know what my future may have in store for me… but I could use an alliance with someone like you," he said. The man shook his head, nervously.
"N-no, no, no… I cannot be known, I cannot be seen. I apologize, Prince Ozai, but…"
"You needn't be known. You needn't be seen. I'm not saying otherwise," Ozai responded: this time, the man remained silent. "Your terms… feel free to name them. Whatever coin you want, I'll provide. But you see… my father was almost in true, life-threatening peril because of this waterbender. A man like you, on our side… you could destroy any such threats well before they can reach us, without even being seen. You are the perfect agent, shrouded in darkness… that is, unless you have a strong reason to refuse. Is it, perchance, that this corruption is killing you?"
"It will, one day," the man answered. "I dare not say when. My survival hinges on… on retaining the strength to draw life out of death. If the balance breaks… I will be overcome."
"Then I shall endeavor to ensure that won't happen," Ozai stated, nodding. "If you require medical assistance…"
"It won't help. It can't help. It won't save me anymore," the man said, shaking his head.
"Then I suppose food, or shelter, whatever you may require, I can provide. As far as I understand… you simply exist here, do you? Hunting down anything too dangerous, perhaps? Or do you at least take jobs of any nature…?"
"I have no need for money. For duties. I have no employment. I only… I only attempt to save lives when I can. I couldn't save all your soldiers, but I could stop the waterbender from hurting you."
"Then… you really are the perfect ally. The ideal hidden weapon," Ozai said, with a growing smirk. "Please… think on it, at the very least. It may not be the life you're used to, but serving a Prince should be better than running rooftops this way…"
"Serving… a Prince," the man repeated. He shivered again, hunching over slightly before raising his head anew. "Am I not… disgusting to you?"
"Disgusting?" Ozai repeated, with a sneer. "The most disgusting man I know sits on a throne, and I must look upon his face every day of my life. I'd much prefer to look upon yours."
A light gasp left the man's throat again. Ozai's proud smile only strengthened as he raised his head in the assassin's direction: there was a strange innocence to the man, if he truly had it in his head that no one would ever be able to see past an immediate, instinctive fear of his features and abilities. No… Ozai saw an opportunity, much as he now realized there were countless opportunities out there that his father continuously squandered. After journeying to find the Avatar and glimpsing no sign of the carcass of the dragon Iroh allegedly slew, he had even found himself wondering why on earth should dragons have been killed, too: they were perfect weapons that had long provided Sozin's armies with mobility, with firepower… everything they had needed to overcome the Air Nomads. What fool would dismiss such advantages over blind pride? What great strategist could still deserve to be described as one if he would sooner see his greatest advantage destroyed instead of making the most of it…?
This was simply another of those situations. Another chance to make the most of an opportunity that had fallen right into Ozai's lap, mysteriously enough… and he meant to take advantage of it, indeed.
"Do you have any stronger reasons not to wish to do this?" he asked. "You can remain hidden, as hidden as you are now… I would be your sole contact, and I would simply make requests of you, missions, so to speak, whenever they're necessary. Is that too much to ask?"
"It… it is too generous, if anything. Prince Ozai, I… I am a rotten man, with rotten fire. Do you truly believe I am worthy of… of serving you?"
"Perhaps you should try it, so that we may see for ourselves if you are or not," Ozai declared, raising his eyebrows. "Consider it a challenge. A way to test your boundaries, perhaps, and a chance for me to gain your loyalty. Though… you can just as well consider it all a reward indeed, no matter if you asked for none, for saving my life. I don't take your actions for granted… well, whatever your name may be."
The man remained silent again, for a moment. Ozai frowned, eerily reminded of the unpleasant situation, almost ten years ago, when he had waited hopelessly for recruits to join him on his journey to track down the Avatar…
"Very well, then. If you refuse, at the very least show me the way out of here," Ozai said, bitterly, cuttingly, glancing about himself again with displeasure…
"Seethus."
Ozai blinked blankly, focusing on the masked man again. He'd lowered his head even more than before…
"My name. Seethus," he repeated. Ozai raised his eyebrows, and a slow smirk spread over his features.
"Seethus, is it?" he said. "Well, then… are you interested in being my secret weapon, Seethus? I may require your skills indeed, perhaps for small missions at times… perhaps for bigger ones, on occasion, as well. Are you, by any chance, adverse to…?"
"Murder? No," Seethus said, simply. Ozai smirked. "I have killed many so far. If it were what you required, I… I would do it."
"Then it seems we shall suit each other nicely, Seethus," Ozai said, nodding in his new associate's direction. "Whatever you require, I will provide. If there's anything in particular…"
"I… don't need much," Seethus whispered, his voice dwindling. "Knowing that I can serve is more than I could have ever asked for."
"If so… you can certainly serve, and you're most welcome to do so," Ozai said. "We have an agreement, then?"
"Until you no longer require my services… my fire is yours," Seethus said: he fell to his knees, head bowed in Ozai's direction.
How strangely easy… how quaint that the man would be so willfully subservient, and yet what a welcome opportunity it was. He'd have one advantage over his father, an advantage Azulon might have no means to counter… if things went downhill, as Ozai suspected they might in the future, his new friend would provide him with the perfect means to put an end to Azulon's persistent tormenting of his son, for good. It was easy to suspect that no one else would have been able to see past the surface of Seethus's abilities, beyond the obvious illness that plagued him… but Ozai had. And because of that, he had earned the man's loyalty quickly. He was a visionary in ways his father would only ever envy him for… especially if he ever pushed his son so far that Ozai had no other choice but to give Seethus the one order that he already wished to command of him…
The urge to do so would strengthen over the next months… the next years, in fact. Imperial Guards, rather than Ozai's own, had been the ones to capture and restrain the waterbender, who had certainly shown signs of insanity – the soldiers reported that he had talked of some smoke that could destroy anything, which Azulon utterly dismissed, for he chalked it down to the man's lowly birth and inability to understand firebending for the beautiful art it was. His father's failure to recognize the danger, to take heed of the waterbender's warnings, had amused Ozai…
Azulon's reaction to Ozai's next move hadn't amused him as much, however. The Fire Lord's reaction to Ozai's generous – if conceited – attempt to make up for the new gaps in Azulon's Imperial Guards by offering his own guards for his use took the youngest Prince by surprise.
He had told his father that it was clear his guards had failed him while his men had survived a confrontation with the waterbender, demonstrating their competence. He had offered all his men to the Fire Lord's service, graciously providing them to bolster his defenses and to protect his father… of course, without admitting that he had a much more effective guard than those, tailing him most anywhere he went, these days. His generosity, colored by bitterness, remained generosity all the same… and Azulon had snubbed it.
He had only promoted Shaofeng, the guard Ozai was closest to… and while Shaofeng had treated this promotion as a great honor at first, his outlook on the job had changed radically after a mere few weeks. More than once, Ozai had bumped into him doing menial servant chores: when he had tried to reason with Shaofeng, telling him this wasn't what his job was supposed to be, Azulon had stormed in on their conversation, scolded them both for their irresponsible behavior, for their disloyalty… and then he had punished Shaofeng, in front of Ozai. He had forced the man to shed his armor, to bare his back, and his prodigious firebending had whipped across the soldier's skin back and forth: he wasn't allowed to scream, no matter how damaged his body might be, or he would lose the great honor he had been granted by Fire Lord Azulon upon promoting him into his Imperial Guards. He wasn't allowed to complain, to whimper at all… and neither was Ozai.
"Do you wish… for me to do it?" Seethus had asked him that night, as Ozai sat in a corner of his room, hands buried in his hair, bottles of liquor scattered near him. "If you wish for it… you need only say the word, Prince Ozai."
Prince Ozai… that was all he was, even now. That was all he'd be, if Seethus acted now: Iroh was home again, triumphant after another campaign in the Earth Kingdom. If Seethus were to strike, if the Fire Lord simply vanished… the truth was, there would be far too many questions. He hadn't thought ahead, not that far ahead… and that was Ozai's mistake. He had been so greedy, so ambitious that he hadn't charted his plans properly, thoroughly. Such was his arrogance upon finding a weapon his father could only possibly dream of wielding: he had lost all sight of reality…
He had to think things through. He had to be smart about how to dispose of Fire Lord Azulon when the time came. The moment hadn't arrived yet… but it would. Someday, it would.
"Hold back… Hold back for now, Seethus," he spoke: the words would condemn Shaofeng to further punishment and suffering, for now… but he would be free from such strife in the future. Ozai had no doubts he would be grateful for his eventual liberation, whenever it arrived. For now, he'd keep his distance… he'd protect his ally by not giving Azulon further reason to target him, as he had on that day.
Once everything lined up, once the true opportunity came along for Ozai to strike down his father's tyranny, once he was ready to take his place for good, once Iroh was out of the way, too… by then, his old captain would be free, and no one would ever humiliate Ozai again. Never again. He could guarantee as much with his new ally, Seethus… all that remained now was to be patient, to comply with Azulon and pretend to be a loyal, faithful son until the moment of truth finally arrived.
He had done so, of course. It hadn't happened quite the way he had initially suspected it would… but he had seen to the end of Azulon's monstruous rule personally. No Water Tribe assassin had a hand in his father's death… yet something, somehow, brought him to reminisce on those memories of his past, upon holding a broken whalebone knife in his hands.
It had been delivered two days ago, with a message detailing the ongoing progress of the battle in the South Pole. The two waterbenders, it seemed, continued to strengthen the Tribe's defenses, but the pair had faltered in a moment of weakness. The warriors had attempted to salvage the situation, and the fool had been the one leading them. His reckless play at heroics had finally seen to his demise, dealing a supposedly terrible blow to the tribe's resistance… but not quite terrible enough to utterly demolish them, it seemed. It was just further proof of how overblown Azula's opinion of the man had been, how mindlessly charmed she was, and how truly weak the savage proved to be when faced with genuine threats.
Yet to think that it was the Fire Lord now who had commanded the death of a man of the Water Tribe, when another Water Tribe bastard had once sought to kill the Fire Lord and failed…
"It's as though the world were upside down…" Ozai reasoned out loud, with a careless sigh.
Still, it was over. Finally, that upside-down world would return to its natural course. He had dealt with the foe whose corpse would no doubt be brought to the Fire Nation anew once the battle in the south was over… once he saw him directly, he would confirm his success and rejoice in yet another victory over his enemies. Yet, now that it was over…
Now that he had finally rid the world of the Blue Wolf, he had to pick up the pieces. He had already made enough decisions he would have to stand by firmly as he moved forward. His situation had changed beyond repair, his bond with his daughter was as good as severed, and the one with his new heir fared no better, as far as he could tell… he would have to track down Zhao, reel him back in, ensure he stopped throwing the pointless tantrum he continued to throw, almost a month since Azula's pregnancy had been diagnosed. All tempers could cool now that the worst of the problems had been dealt with.
"Is there anything I can do to serve, Lord Ozai?"
The one truly faithful ally who had ever stood by him spoke from the shadows of Ozai's study, no doubt sensing the unease in his behavior. Ozai hummed, still turning the knife in his hands.
"I suppose my lack of activity of late is quite boring," Ozai said. "Unfortunately, the one person I required dead is finally gone, so I cannot quite honor you by granting you such a task… not that I would have, if he somehow still lived. As it is, Seethus, you are…"
Indeed, he was his only foundation, the only person he could turn to when he found himself more alone than he ever had been since the day when he first became Fire Lord.
The realization brought a heavy frown to his face: his only ally, a man whose existence was only known to the daughter who now resented him. His only ally… a strange being who was more weapon than human. Perhaps it was precisely his lack of humanity what allowed him to stand by Ozai so faithfully… or was his loyalty the sole remnant of the man he had been once, before he gained his corrupt, otherworldly powers?
Whatever it was, however… he couldn't discuss his grievances with Seethus. He couldn't hope to bounce off ideas with him: Seethus never failed to bow his head and assure him he would do whatever Ozai deemed best and necessary. He had no will of his own… almost no mind of his own, either. In accepting him as he was, with his putrid skin and disfigurements and deadly power, Ozai had ensured the man's allegiance would always answer to him. If Ozai asked him to slaughter every occupant of the Palace save himself, Seethus would likely obey without question… and that was grand, except for moments like these. Except for the uncomfortable moments during which Ozai should reflect on what he'd do next, what his new choices might be… and as much as Seethus stood in the same room as him, Ozai found himself alone, helpless and uncertain in the face of whatever challenges still awaited him.
Yes… it was like going back to being a fourteen-year-old boy. To being alone, with a successful bright brother, an arrogant, cruel father and fading memories of a dead mother, nothing more, nothing less. He had overcome that loneliness, he had built alliances and even started a family of his own afterwards…
And to think about how that had turned out: his son had stormed out on him with all sorts of treacherous declarations. His daughter hated him and feared him on equal measure, no doubt tempted, just as he had been, to end her own father's life for good after all the anguish he'd put her through. And his wife…
His fist tightened, and he released a breath before rubbing his brow. Maybe it was too late to be in his study. He should just retire to his room already and stop thinking about so many things, he frankly didn't know why he'd spent so long here in the first place…
"No, I don't believe there is anything for us to do anymore," Ozai finally said, glancing at Seethus. "I expect I shall retire to my rooms shortly."
"I shall see you safely to…" Seethus fell silent abruptly: Ozai recognized his behavior immediately, unsurprised when the hooded figure faded into nothingness. Someone was coming.
Within about five more seconds, one of his Imperial Guards opened the door: on the other side stood an officer from the Royal Messengers' Office, bowing his head loyally to Ozai… holding a message, lined with a black ribbon. Ozai's eyes narrowed at the sight, immediately.
"Do excuse me for intruding at such late hours, my Lord," said the officer, his voice trembling, no doubt in fear of reprieve for what he suspected was a crime. "This message has only just arrived from the Sages' Temple in Crescent Island."
"Crescent Island?" Ozai repeated, scowling as he gestured at the man to enter the study and hand over the letter. "And what could those sages possibly need to send a black ribbon message for?"
"I… I cannot say I know, my Lord," the messenger said. Ozai scoffed, nodding.
"I should hope so, otherwise it would mean you have read my personal messages, and you would be sure to lose your job for it," he said, jerking his head to the door. "You're dismissed."
"Yes, my Lord," the man said, readily: the less time any servants or soldiers spent in his presence, the safer they would be. Especially if someone had genuine reasons to send a black-ribbon message to the Fire Lord.
Ozai waited until the Imperial Guard on duty closed the door before opening his scroll, with a heavy frown on his face… a frown that only gained strength as he read the utterly illogical words scribbled in the ornate penmanship of a sage.
"Is this… is this their idea of a joke?" he hissed: his eyes returned to the same sentences, over and over… and he couldn't understand it. It made no sense. "The eyes of Avatar Roku's statue lit up? How could…? Oh, please!"
He tossed the letter carelessly, rolling his eyes as his previous fears, his loneliness, faded into outrage. The Avatar's statue, lighting up… right now? Truly? After all this time, it had to happen mere moments after he'd resolved his main problem, right when he intended to see to the calming of the tides of chaos the Fire Nation had been rocked by lately?
"It can't mean anything," he snarled, pacing in the room, knowing Seethus's eyes followed him wherever he went. "It can't! It must have been… a foolish mistake, perhaps the sun happened to fall upon the damn statue's eyes at that very moment. Otherwise…!"
Otherwise, what? The Avatar had been reborn, perhaps? Had he returned? That didn't make any sense. Going by what the letter explained, this had happened about a week ago… the message had been delayed due to the sages attempting to work out the details, the reasoning behind this strange occurrence, and the bird itself had taken over a day to reach the Capital. A whole week… Ozai snarled, fists tightened, pacing inside the study with frustration once more. Curse his luck, curse this folly… he refused to believe this could be true, there was no sense to it, not in a world where balance between elements had become impossible…
"Lord Ozai… someone else is coming."
Seethus's voice was accompanied by his next disappearance into nothingness. Ozai scowled, shooting a threatening glare at the door. If this was some other damnable message, perhaps to reveal to him that his father was actually alive after all, even after the whole city witnessed the burning of his remains, he would set the messenger on fire right then and there, no need for Seethus to do so in his stead…
The strange, agitated voices outside, however, suggested this was no ordinary messenger, no common servant intending to check on him after he had spent too long in his study rather than taking off for dinner. Two male voices seemed to argue, and Ozai scowled as he collected the message he'd tossed earlier, wary of the information anyone could learn from the latest missives he had received. Without a second thought, he gathered this new letter, the one he'd received from the warfront in the South Pole and the knife that had accompanied it, and he tucked them away inside a cabinet of his desk. Even if this happened to be Shaofeng, or miraculously, Zhao himself, Ozai would be the one to determine when and how he'd share the news of the successful military incursion down south, as well as how to handle the unsettling news regarding glowing Avatar statues.
Finally, it seemed the guard outside his study relented, though he visibly trembled upon opening the door to the study. Ozai glared at him, still standing behind his desk, hoping to convey how displeased he was about whatever this ruckus might be…
Azula.
His irritation faded upon realizing that, for the first time in what felt like eons, Azula stood outside his door.
She barely seemed able to stand, though: Renkai, beside her, held her up by an arm. Her slanted posture suggested she was moments away from crumpling to the floor.
"My Lord, the Princess…"
"Azula? What is the matter?" Ozai cut across the guard immediately, as though the man hadn't even spoken at all. "Are you unwell?"
His unwillingness to listen to the guard saw the man falling silent… and it also saw Renkai rejoicing imperceptibly upon witnessing the Fire Lord's reaction to the Princess's presence. He had argued with his fellow guard, assuring him the Princess had asked to see the Fire Lord and to allow them to pass: the guard had remained as stubbornly grounded as he possibly could, but he had been obligated to inform the Fire Lord, at the very least, of this visit… and in fulfilling that order, he now saw his previous certainties entirely dismissed.
Yet there was nothing to rejoice in, not in the least, for Azula. She couldn't even glare bitterly at her father, distraught and displeased by the sudden display of concern he was putting a show of now… she could barely speak. Her body trembled violently as she stood awkwardly in that room, feeling as though her whole world had become blurry, faded, unstable and unreliable in the face of the turmoil dwelling within her heart. She had come here to find an answer and she wouldn't leave without it… but she didn't want to hear it. No, she didn't want to know, but she had no choice. If she wasn't too late just yet, if she could still persuade her father…
"Admiral Zhao stopped by earlier," Renkai said, suddenly: Ozai's attention shifted towards him. "They… had an argument. I do not know about what. When he left, the Princess was…"
"He… Azula, did he hurt you?" Ozai asked, frowning in confusion: his daughter, allowing anyone to harm her…?
Well, she hardly had a choice but to allow it, back when she had first started rebelling. She was weak, even now. On top of her previous condition, she was pregnant, too…
The bottom of his stomach seemed to drop: for the first time ever, Ozai found himself bumping into a wall he refused to destroy, at least for now. Had he truly pushed her so far that she couldn't even defend herself from whoever meant her harm? Was he truly responsible for whatever cruelty Zhao had inflicted upon her…?
Unbeknownst to him, he was… though not only because of the choices he'd made, or the dreadful orders he'd given.
Azula raised her head slowly, struggling to see through her tearful eyes: she had to hold back. She had to calm down. She was here to ask a question… a simple question. After that, she would plead. She would beg, she would kneel, she would grovel, whatever was needed, anything…
But first, she had to speak. And so, she did.
"He… he said…" she managed, swallowing hard, trembling more violently as she attempted to retain her footing. Ozai's scowl grew more prominent. "He says you've sent… troops. He… he said…"
Immediately, the truth behind Azula's emotional reaction made sense to Ozai: right after fearing he'd pushed her too far, Azula was right back to making him proud of his choices, it seemed… he scowled, pushing back from the desk as he glanced out the window.
"The bastard really is collecting terrible life choices ever since he became Crown Prince, isn't he?" he spoke to himself, even though he knew the other three – or rather, four – people in the room could hear him. "Of course, now… now he tells you this when you weren't meant to know at all. All in a bid to turn us against each other, just what he accused you of doing to him and me… ironic."
A choked sound burst from Azula: Ozai turned with a scowl as she shook her head slightly, ever so slightly at first. Her golden eyes, panicked and mortified, now couldn't contain the tears that spilled down her cheeks.
"Y-you… you didn't. You didn't… please… p-please…" she said: her voice flowed out of her so much more easily now, and yet it was marred by a tone of such desperation Ozai was sure he had never heard in her before… no matter how dreadful everything had been between them, no matter how broken she had seemed to be, he had never seen his daughter like this.
An instinct to step forward, to reassure her, to dispel her fears rose up in his chest… and he quashed it immediately with rejection and spite.
"And what if I did, Princess Azula?" he said, bitterly.
That sound again. That choked cry, those wide eyes, the tumbling tears down her cheeks…
Suddenly she broke from Renkai's grip, only to fall to her knees before his desk, her fearful eyes set on him still: a position of subservience, of defeat… of a beggar. The disgust Ozai felt at himself for nearly feeling moved over her display was easily enough redirected and addressed at his daughter, instead.
"C-call it off. Call off… the attack… please, I… I've done all you asked, please, I… F-Fire Lord, you can have everything… whatever you want, I'll do anything else you need, p-please…" there was no shred of dignity left in the carcass of the woman who had once been so powerful as to instill fear in countless men thrice her age. Again, the unwanted reminder hammered away at Ozai's mind: he had done this. He had brought her to her knees… and only upon seeing her there did he find the very concept was utterly appalling.
Yet… it wasn't truly his fault, not really.
She was the one who had chosen to betray her nation, to commit high treason with some worthless southern scum.
Had she known any better, none of this would have happened.
She had brought this upon herself.
Even now, she only pleaded for his sake. Even now, all she could do was long for her pathetic lover, attempting to protect his worthless hide with every tear she pointlessly shed to appeal to Ozai's merciful side…
If only she weren't too late, there was just a shred of a chance, so small Ozai couldn't quite quantify it, that she might have managed to move him with her overblown reaction.
If only.
"It's quite clever of him, I'll say… revealing this to you now, only now," Ozai said, eyes narrow. Azula flinched, her teeth chattering as though she were freezing, although the temperature remained as warm as it ever was in the Fire Nation. The coldness might just come from within… "I never meant for you to learn of it, to begin with. Or, at least, not for a long time, but be that as it may, Azula… I received word from the southern warfront merely a few days ago."
Her breath caught and froze. Her body shuddered, her eyes widened. The warfront… the south. It was real, it was true, Zhao wasn't lying about any of it… her father truly had done this. He had sent his troops there, and he…
"He's already dead."
Her heart beat once.
Her breath escaped her, and she couldn't seem to regain it, not again.
Tears spilled down her pale cheeks.
Her heart beat twice.
The world fell out of focus. No sound, no noise… silence.
Only silence.
He… he was gone?
He was gone.
He was dead.
No, he hadn't said those words. Any moment now, time would turn back. He would say something else, surely, then she'd argue and tell him… tell him to back down, to withdraw his forces, to forget about him, she'd swear eternal loyalty to him if that was what it took…
No. He still stood before her, with those cold, unyielding glares of his… his shoulders set, as though he were proud of his words… of his orders, of his actions, of…
No, no, no, troops couldn't have – it wasn't like he couldn't hold off an assault – the world couldn't possibly have lost the one man who – the rest of the tribe, her brother, couldn't any of them have…? – He had time, no, he had to have figured out a way, some way to – dead, he was dead, just like in the clearing, just like in the Arena, dead… – gone.
He was gone.
Sokka was gone.
It couldn't sink in. It didn't, not at first. Not for what felt like hours, even if it was much less than that. Her heart… it beat again. And then again. And even that hurt. With every pump of blood through her system, everything hurt.
She'd take the corruption over this. She'd let him mutilate her, burn her skin off her bones, worse than he'd done to Zuko…
Anything but this. Not this. He had to listen, he had to…
He was gone.
It was too late already.
Sokka was…
Sokka was dead.
A cry suddenly burst from her lips: a wail, a sorrowful sound so instinctive, raw, even animalistic Ozai could only flinch at the sound of it. His guard, as well, struggled to understand it… Renkai alone stepped closer, placing a hand on the Princess's back as she trembled violently, so violently, rolling into herself…
"G-get her… out of here. Captain Renkai…" the guard said, suddenly. Renkai shot him a harsh glare, and yet…
"Do so. Remove her from… from my study, now," Ozai's voice usually carried far more authority than that, and yet the words he'd spoken, the demand he'd made…
It wasn't that Renkai had grown all that close to the Princess over the past days, even if she wasn't as harsh as she used to be. It wasn't that he truly understood, to this moment, what that man had meant to her.
Yet a wave of vitriolic hostility surged inside his body, an urge unparalleled to attack the man he was sworn to serve… to retaliate for what he'd done. For acting as though his daughter were some sort of rare breed of a beast, incomprehensible and dangerous… when she was a woman in grief. Grief caused by the very man who now seemed to reject her viscerally…
Renkai jerked his eyes away from the Fire Lord and focused them on the Princess: the desperate sound burst from her in a rhythm, it seemed, as she drew breath, and every single breath was so laborious it seemed as though she were instants away from no longer making the effort to take in any air… as though she were instants away from willing her own heart to stop beating, just because his already had.
He tried to pull her up to no avail. She was weak, so weak she had crumpled in a heap… and the only way out of here – and Renkai certainly wanted her out of here, too, for her benefit rather than the fucking Fire Lord's – would be by carrying her. How he hoped she'd forgive him for this in the future…
Was there a future to worry about at all, though? The dark thought crossed Renkai's mind as he hoisted her carefully, against his chest: that Ozai didn't protest, that he didn't snap at him for choosing such an inappropriate way to deal with the Princess, spoke lengths regarding how utterly shaken he was by her reaction. All the better, then… if he dared ask that she walked to her room, Renkai might actually try to attack him right now.
Somehow, Renkai feared she was closer to death now than she had been even during the day when that spear had corrupted her chi. As devastated as she could be over the news, her health was, theoretically, better than it had been for months… yet that particular thought burst in Renkai's mind as he walked as carefully as he could, with the Princess's trembling, whimpering, sobbing figure in his arms: she was in shock. Even now, she couldn't process what the Fire Lord had said. Who knew if she ever would…?
Dead, though? Was it even possible? Renkai's head almost seemed to spin at the thought. It didn't sound right… it didn't sound real. Yet it was the final blow the Fire Lord could have ever dealt the Princess… a blow she couldn't have fielded and fended off. Instead… instead she lay across his arms, shattered, undone…
Dead. Sokka… dead? Her heart beat again, and it seemed false, as though everything around her were false. She was in someone's arms, she didn't bother finding out who. She didn't care.
Nothing mattered anymore. Not if he was dead.
Dead.
It wasn't possible. It couldn't be… he had to be lying. Sokka had sworn… he swore he would live on, that they would meet again. Even if it took decades, even if they were old and wrinkled…
She hadn't wanted to return to him. Not in this shape, not now, not as she was…
But now… who would she return to?
She had nowhere to go.
She had no purpose.
She had nothing to live for, because he didn't live at all.
She had cost him his life.
She had killed the man she loved.
A shudder shook her, and then a spree of sobs: the heart that had slowed suddenly raced, beating so hard she could feel it in her ears, in her throat, in the back of her head… everything hurt. Every inch of her body, every last place…
Sokka… she wanted to call for him. She wanted to cry out his name, into this darkness that enveloped her. She wanted to do so… because somehow, after all this time, she could evoke his touch, his warm hand falling upon hers, that smile, brightening the lives of everyone around him…
Could this world truly continue spinning without it? Without him?
"N-no…" she blurted out, shuddering violently, shaking her head against the shoulder that held her. "Please… no… it's… it's not… h-he's not…"
"I'm… I'm sorry, Princess," Renkai's voice hit her: for a stupid moment, the most stupid possible moment, she had truly expected it to be his voice answering hers, instead.
But this wasn't him. It wasn't his chest, or his arms, or his scent… it wasn't him. It would never again be him. She had already accepted destiny would never let them return to each other. She would never touch him, see him, hear his voice… he was out of reach. She knew that, she had accepted that…
But this? Living in a world where he no longer existed?
She couldn't take it. She wasn't prepared for…
Not like this. Not this way. Not after they'd fought as hard as they had… not after she'd done everything she could to protect him.
She could fail at anything else, damn it. She could trade every last one of her successes, any of them… she would take it all back, become no one, a complete nothing… she would give her life for his in a heartbeat. If the choice were hers, the answer would be so simple; she wouldn't even hesitate…
She would never bend her gold fire again. Her blue fire, too, was gone beyond salvation. Being the most successful Crown Princess… being her father's favored heir? What did any of that mean…? What could it possibly mean, at this point, when he was no longer…?
She didn't care what she needed to do. It didn't matter how hard it could be. If she could bring him back, whatever the cost she had to pay, she'd pay it, tenfold… the Spirit World. She'd go there, she'd find him, she'd…
There was no way to do that. She had no choices… no chances, no opportunities to explore. Her world was limited to this Palace… her life, chalked down to nothing but a bleak, miserable existence sustained, until now, exclusively on the knowledge that her life's partners still lived. But now that one of them no longer did… now that Sokka was gone…
The world tumbled, turned, and she couldn't tell she had been set down on her bed until the arms pulled back, releasing her from their grip. Renkai called for her, softly… or so she thought, but she couldn't answer. She couldn't hear, not really… just as she could barely see, no matter if there were lights in the room, lights she'd lit herself.
"… I know it's not enough… really sorry. You… and I can't imagine…"
The meaning of his words couldn't register inside her head. His voice focused, then faded. With each beat of her heart, with each rise and fall, her consciousness and her grief appeared to war against each other: a pointless struggle, when both had the same end in mind.
If he no longer lived, why should she?
A burst of conscience. A sudden moment of clarity, and the world around her regained shape… only for her tears to spill faster. Only for her whole body to tremble, only for her eyes to close, only for a stronger cry to spill from her lips…
"No…! No, no, NO!" she screamed, and yet the outburst couldn't mitigate the pain. The sorrow overwhelmed her, overtook her… he couldn't be dead. He couldn't be, Ozai had no evidence, he'd showed her none…
But he'd said so with such certainty. He'd made that claim as though there were no doubt to be had. If he'd just done it to hurt her… well, he'd certainly regret it, she supposed. Did he have it in him to regret anything at all? Would it matter to him… would he even mourn, when someone found her damn corpse? Would he finally realize he'd gone too far…?
No. Of course he wouldn't. And who cared, anyway, if he did?
It was over. There was nothing to fight for anymore. This world, this life… it was a nightmare. An endless, sprawling, wretched nightmare… and she wanted to wake from it. She would do so… and then she would join him. She would find him again, in the next life, or the next…
"Princess…" Renkai called her: she had rolled in bed, sobbing uncontrollably, hugging herself in desperation: when his hand fell upon her shoulder, she didn't swat it away, and yet…
"L-leave… l-leave me. I… I can't… I need to… I can't…" she whimpered: her body crumpled into itself, as she rolled into a tighter, smaller ball yet….
Renkai gritted his teeth: leaving her alone now didn't seem to be a wise choice… but what on earth could he do for her, anyway? If he found Song now, even if he found both her and Rei… what could they possibly achieve? She had already fallen to pieces before, not that long ago… and even though he hadn't witnessed it fully, he knew that helping the Princess rise back from those depths of desperation was a heinous challenge in which most people wouldn't prevail. He, most certainly, couldn't do it. Could Song? Could Rei? Or was the Princess too far gone to be reached or saved, even for the two of them…?
He stepped away, climbing off the dais… gaining certainty that he should find them. He should seek them out, ask them to help, even if it was so late…
For now, though, he had no choice but to obey the Princess's orders. Maybe she did need to be alone, no matter how much it terrified him to leave her be for now… he had seen her grief upon her dragon's capture, he had seen her on her knees only a few days ago, sobbing in silence…
None of it held a torch to this.
Something told him that, if nothing was done, this might just be the end for the Princess, just when he had finally truly built up his resolve to serve her…
He turned, closing the door behind himself… and scowling upon sensing an odd smell in the area. He swatted at the air nearby… and it faded. Strange…
Inching in a corner, shrouded by darkness, Seethus grimaced underneath his mask as he avoided being discovered by the guard. It had taken Ozai a moment to give him his orders… and then, Seethus had to climb out of the window and slip inside the Palace again through another entrance, all be it to avoid alerting the other guard of his presence if the door opened anew without any explanation. It had taken him too long to reach the Princess's room… and before he could truly slip inside it, the guard had shut the door. The curtains, he knew, would be drawn… the windows, in all likelihood, locked. Even without Ozai's orders, he had attempted to spy on the Princess a few times over the past months, but he had found no way to enter the room without going through Renkai's front door. Yet again, right now, he had no choice but to retreat: the guard captain seemed unsettled by his presence, he seemed to be far more perceptive than most people Seethus had dealt with so far…
So he had to escape, quickly, and report to Ozai that the Princess was once again safely in her room. Just so, it seemed the captain intended to pursue him, and Seethus found himself scowling as the man took off, down the corridor…
Until both were frozen on their tracks when a sudden shriek seemed to tear through every wall of the Palace, through every defense that had ever seen to the protection and survival of the Fire Lord's lineage.
It rang so powerfully it shook everyone who heard it to their core. Servants, guards, all of them slowed in their motions, most of them terrified immediately… some of them, however, quick to suspect who was responsible for this cry of desperation and mourning that could have brought empires undone…
Perhaps it might yet do so, even now.
Tears spilled so fast, so uncontrollably Azula barely knew what to do: she had screamed, wanting it to stop, wanting all of it to stop… and yet those thoughts returned to mind, over and over, rolling right back to the same place, tormenting her. Just when she had finally found a foothold, when she had reclaimed some semblance of peace…
Just then, everything fell to pieces in one fell sweep.
She couldn't take it. She wasn't strong enough, in the end. She had failed him in every way she could have. So much for scolding him as often as she had, for every promise he'd broken…
Oh, he could break as many of them as he pleased right now. She didn't care, she couldn't care less… he could be disappointed and disgusted in her, to the point of not wanting her in his life again. She would accept that, if… if only he lived. She could live with his disappointment, with his displeasure, with his hatred… she couldn't do that if he wasn't alive, though.
She wouldn't do it.
What was the point in so much as trying, anymore?
If his life was forfeit… so was hers.
They went evenly at things, didn't they? That was how their partnership had grown as much as it had… that was how he'd described them once, so long ago, and it had stuck with her ever since.
Maybe that was what it meant, now. Maybe it was simply what she wanted it to mean.
If he were dead… wouldn't he be distraught if she joined him so soon afterwards? Wouldn't he be upset that she had given up so fast, so easily? Maybe so… maybe so.
But she lacked the will to live any longer.
She was exhausted.
She had endured this sorrow, this grief, in the hopes that he would still survive. She wanted to believe her sacrifices had amounted to something… only to learn, now, that her every effort had been futile. In every sense of the matter, her father had won. He had overcome her, and she couldn't do anything but watch from a distance as he laid waste to everything she had cherished, to every shred of purpose she'd ever clung to.
He'd never even regret it. Somehow, he'd twist reality, his every mistake, into someone else's fault, someone else's responsibility, never his own.
Azula was well past the point of giving a damn, though.
He could have his fucking nation, his wretched Palace, his crown, his throne… he could have everything he damn wanted, because he already had all of it, and she lacked the power, the shrewdness and the willingness to fight him for anything any longer. He could have anything… he had made the most of that fact, as freely as he pleased to. Just one more great victory for Fire Lord Ozai… just one more chance to bask in his grand, brutal talent of destroying his family in every way he possibly could.
He should rejoice in it, truly. Without her… he'd be able to be friends with Zhao again, right? With her gone, they'd both forget their differences and return to their damn scheming to destroy nations and lives as they always did. Without her, he would no longer live in shame, disgusted by his progeny. Without her, his problems, all of them, would be gone. He should be thrilled for it… for all she knew, he would be.
Song, though… Rei. Oh, it hurt to think of it, to know that they would be the only ones in the Palace who would truly grieve… perhaps Renkai, as well. They would have each other, at least… she hoped they'd understand. Could anyone truly understand this pain? She didn't know… though if they couldn't understand it, if they hated her for her weaknesses and her choices, she wouldn't be surprised for it. She certainly wouldn't blame them for their resentment, if they felt any.
Mai, Ty Lee… she hadn't seen them again since that day. She had no idea if they were safe, but she hoped they were… Mai would be set free from having to fear consequences if she were to fail at her spying duties, though: her family would be alright, same as Ty Lee's. They were better off this way, weren't they?
And Xin Long… she felt his rejection to her choices in her mind, the desperate whimpers he let out, urging her to stop this tirade of darkness and slow down, but she couldn't listen to reason. Ultimately, her beautiful dragon would no longer be a hostage, for his capture would serve no purpose anymore. Maybe Renkai and that friendly guard would help set him free… for it was obvious her father never would order him released, no matter if she was dead and served no more extortion purposes. And once he was free, Xin Long could return to his fellow dragons, and… and he could stay with them. He should stay with them. He should never return to the Fire Nation…
No one should. No one should ever waste their hearts, their lives, defending a nation helmed by a soulless bastard like her father. Loyalty to that man… it was meaningless. Everything was meaningless, in the end.
As it was, there was but one way forward… one way out. One possible future she cared to reach for. She had nothing left to do. There was no point… no point in so much as trying to bring a child into a world as rotten as this one. His child… the child he'd never meet…
Maybe they'd all meet in the next life, then. Maybe… if it were possible. Maybe the dream, the vision she had of the beautiful life she could have had with him… maybe it would only be realized if she took that step forward and forsook the life she'd led so far. No more sorrow… no more pain. Relief and respite, at damn fucking last…
She wasn't sure how she found the strength to climb off the bed… to rise and walk to the nightstand, to yank it open, to push aside the goods she'd stashed within it to conceal the bone necklace, her great treasure. She raised it to her chest, letting her tears spill upon it… letting herself reason with the fact that it remained, even now, her last connection to him. The final keepsake, the very last thing that bonded their souls together… so distraught she was that she couldn't even feel that comforting connection any longer. The comfort it used to provide no longer existed: a vacant, all-consuming pain had taken its place.
She clung to it as she knelt before the carpet, which wouldn't roll back into place after she slipped underground. Her body moved alone, of its own accord, as she leveled her fingers at the trapdoor: could she even bend? Her trembling hand suggested otherwise… but she still shot a burst of fire, as best as she could pour one from her palm, into the mechanism. It clicked… it had worked. The way was clear for her to jump into the tunnels and rush to meet her newly chosen destiny.
"I… won't be long now…" she spoke into nothingness, as she lowered herself into the tunnel. "I… I'll find you. No matter what it takes, I… I'll find you."
She gritted her teeth, letting her fingers trail over her womb: another miserable wail threatened to tear through her. No, she had no idea how to be a mother anyway, so maybe… maybe this was for the best. Maybe she should have forced herself to swallow that brew, to forsake all these notions, to forget about the fact that she had nothing left of him, nothing but this child… because now that he was gone, everything had lost all meaning anyway. The world's brightness had faded into nothingness. Her feet would carry her through these tunnels blindly… and she would let them.
Perhaps this was the true reason behind all the nightmares she had, lately.
Perhaps it was time to set her world on fire and to let the flames consume her as well.
She could only hope he'd forgive her for it once their souls met anew.
"I'm… I'm sorry," she whispered: her hand reached for the trapdoor, closing it anew, behind her. Her other hand touched her womb, though, and more tears spilled down her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry… I'm sorry, Sokka."
She was sorry.
She was sorry.
She was…
… Sorry.
He gasped, he burst through his unconsciousness, a swerving, powerful feeling pounding inside his body, pulsating misery all over his system. He could have taken notice of the bugs floating nearby, of the plants that covered the sky above him, of the mud underneath his body… yet all Sokka could sense was the powerful, overwhelming burst of grief and fear that shook him to his core, so badly his eyes had snapped wide open in the middle of the wilderness, with only one word tumbling from his lips:
"Azula!"