"An Azula For You" Chapter 1

Psyckosama

Well-Known Member
#1
Here's where the fic is being developed. http://forums.spacebattles.com/showthread.php?t=162405

And here is what it looks like we have so far...

Slowly he drifted through the beyond, trapped in the world of dreams between the lands of men and of spirits.

Able to see, but not to touch.

Able travel but not interact.

Able to experience, but never to comprehend.

It was black and white at the beginning. They were calm, peaceful. Time passed. He couldn't know how long. The only way to measure it was by the black and the white. The black was chasing the white. Or was the black fleeing the white? It wasn't clear. The only time was measured by their rotation, in a slow, endless dance. There was only the cycle, and then the cycle began again, with every cycle just as meaningful as the last. They became a circle. Or had always been a circle.

Then red. The graceful, melancholic cycle of shades came to an end. The red flashed, violently, free of anything so parochial as a source. The cycle stopped. The white grew pale and sick. It was jaundiced, and then yellow. The red was hideously powerful now. It contrasted painfully. The black, alone, without a second, roared in pain; as much as a color can roar, a paradoxically chilling sound.

There was flailing. Pain. Suffering. The woes of mortality. Life, unable to live, must only... what? What can follow loss? It is madness. The black was mad. Two baleful glowing eyes stared out from beyond the edges of human understanding.

He feared it.

He sunk back towards the easy depths of unconsciousness, as if to retreat from it.

The black retreated. As it faded from his vision, it was replaced with... white. He had it. He'd found it. There was no reason to fear. All he had to do was return it to the black. He floated back towards consciousness, carrying the white. Or it carried him. Either way, it found its way back. He saw the yellow retreating, from the other side. The madness was soothed, and he wondered if it was him.

The black and white returned to their dance. Red had gone. Somehow her could not see it as clearly. A white presence guided him. Slowly clarity returned to him and then he saw her. A beautiful maiden with hair and spirit as pure as virgin snow. She reached out to him. Smiled playfully at him as she pressed her finger against his head, sending him falling. He he fell away from her, her face changed to silky black hair and ruby lips, and golden eyes full of danger.

-- -- --

With a gap, his eyes burst open. Red. Not a flashing, violent red. This red was fuzzy, and rippled, like the ocean. It made him feel sick, so he closed his eyes again. After a few heartbeats - he could measure time now - he opened them again. The light burned, and his vision was blurred. His body was weak, his throat racked with thirst, and his stomach felt so hollow that it almost felt as if he'd collapse in upon himself. Still, even with the discomfort, this state was much better than the profound feeling of lost he'd been experiencing up until now. He absently wondered if that what death was like, before taking a deep breath to begin recovering himself.

ôMy name is Liao,ö he told himself, in a dry, weak voice, struggling fight through the fog addling his mind. This comforted him. He was addled and confused, but he retained his identity.

ôWhere am I?ö He asked himself, ôWhat happened, and how did I get here?ö

As his vision cleared he answered the first question himself, at least in part. The red he'd seen was a curtain. The window was open, and Liao could feel the breeze. The smell of salt in the air told of the the coast. Crimson silk sheets lay across the bed, its gold-painted posts carved in the form of battling dragons, and from above the door the black and red flame of his homeland looked down. Only the nobles of the Fire Nation lived in such splendour.

He was no prisoner then, a relief, but how he'd come to be here, and exactly where here was, that still eluded him.

He knew this place was Fire Nation, but was he still in the colonies or had he been taken to the home islands? If he had to guess, he'd say the islands as the subtle but omnipresent hints of Earth Kingdom culture and design that had become part of the Colonial identity seemed to be lacking.

Still looking about, at the delicately painted walls and lushly carpeted black obsidian floors that surrounded him his eyes locked on a table at the far side of the room. On it sat a porcelain water pitcher, painted in black highlighted with with luxurious reds and golds

Slowly he sat himself up and was overtaken by a momentary feeling of vertigo. Touching his head he felt rough cloth under his fingers. Bandages. How had he been wounded? He could not recall this on its own. It was too fuzzy. It was just a jumble of images. He remembered chaos and then pain, but then it was just darkness. He would have to ask about this.

He didn't know how, but he'd been injured. That certainly seemed the most plausible explanation for him lying in a bed somewhere, with a bandage holding his skull together, the bitter cramp of disuse in his legs and arms, and some surely medicinal herbal scent in the air. He lay there, thinking it over. After a moment he came to two conclusions. Firstly he was in no fit state for higher thought. Secondly he very much wanted to get up.

He waited for his balance to return to him. When he felt comfortable, he levered himself up, wincing, and tried to stand. It seemed all right. His body felt weak and tired, but he was thirsty. Very thirsty. He'd never felt this parched before. He needed that water.

Taking a tentative first step, Liao released the bed and began to move towards the table and its liquid prize. Calling his movement walking would be a misnomer. It was more of a controlled stumble forwards, not unlike the unsteady gait of an infant. In moments though, he reached the table, and holding himself up with one arm, reached for the water.

Soon he reach the table and, struggling to hold himself up with one arm, reached for the water, but the pitcher slipped through his faltering fingers, smashing on the cold stone floor. Falling to his knees he spent a moment considering lapping it up off the floor but he decided quickly that he would not debase himself as such. The sound was bound to bring servants, and they'd bring him all the water he could drink and food he could eat.

A thin smile crossed Liao's face as the door burst open. In rushed an elderly man, who's clothing game him the look of a doctor. The man gazed across the room frantically, before his gaze locked on Liao himself.

ôWhat are you doing?ö the Doctor demanded. ôYou should be in bed.ö

ôWater...ö he said, his voice still barely a crackle due to thirst. ôI need water, and something to eat.ö

The Doctor gentle pulled him to his feet.

ôOf course you do. You're very ill and lucky to be alive. Lets get you back in bed and then see about getting you something for you belly.ö glancing at the door, the doctor glared at the watching servants. ôDon't just stand there! You heard the boy, fetch him some soup and tell the princess! Oh, and find someone to clean this mess up!ö

-- -- --

The sun had reached its zenith over the Fire Nation capital as the two wizened crones sat comfortablyat their places on the raised dais. The glassy volcanic rock that made up this hallowed place was washed in the light of the noon sun. The twinÆs pupil stood in the center of the ancient and revered training ground, her body bathing in the sun's life giving rays.

Even as Azula ran through a routine of the utmost complexity, Lo and Li were as if statues. They did not rush to praise their student. Instead, they picked up on mistakes no others would detect. The twins were not Firebenders themselves. However, they had an eye for detail unmatched in the Fire Nation. In their time, they were peerless in their chosen field. Fire Lord Azulon had called upon them when situations required the utmost discretion. Lo and Li had honed their eye for detail over many decades of service to the throne. It was why AzulonÆs successor, Fire Lord Ozai, had selected them to oversee his favored childÆs training.

It was an open secret that he wished for them to impart far more than their ability to detect and exploit any flaw or weakness in the princess.

Finishing the form, Azula turned to her tutors. An untrained eye would have been awed by the confidence the young woman naturally radiated and her boundless natural talent. She was a marvel by any standards. The twins cared nothing of this, for there was something slightly amiss with their chargeÆs posture.

"Again," Li croaked, sketching out the move with bony fingers. "You're still too high."

"The base of the flame burns hottest. Learn from it. You must keep your center of weight low," Lo concurred.

Azula hid a grimace, her face as impassive as ever. She returned to her beginning stance, stretching out her arms as she did so. She had done this form before. It was within her ability. She started forward, aggressively, keeping the hypothetical opponent on the defensive. Two strikes, then spin, blocking the first opponent's flame while twisting to engage a hypothetical second. Threatened on each side, Azula leapt back, landing delicately, toes first, and broadening her flames to force back both enemies. The first came on and she ducked low, shooting low, to strike at the opponent's root. She swept that opponent to the ground with a wide kick and rose to meet the second, whose fire blast caught her full in the face -

"A second too slow."

Azula cut off the second crone before she could add her input.
"I know. I was worrying about my weight and lost timing. I'll begin again."

She put a hand to her forehead in impatience. Were she slightly less assiduous about her appearance, she might have brushed a hair back.

"Perhaps we should end your drills for today," Lo suggested. The sun was in the middle of its descent, but there would still be a few hours before it reached the horizon and bathed the capital in gold. Azula bristled.

"Are you suggesting this is beyond me?"

"Not at all." Li responded for her twin. Azula suspected this habit of theirs was a conscious strategy on their part to keep any student off-balance by dividing their attention. If you could not deal with that minor confusion, you did not deserve to be taught by them. Though non-benders themselves, there were few better teachers in the Fire Nation.

"Perhaps the princess might prefer to resume training in the morning," Li continued. "You seem unfocused," her sister finished.

Azula hesitated for a moment. "Nonsense," she said, cleanly. "A real opponent would not wait until I felt more focused."

The old women looked at each other and exchanged a barely perceptible sigh.

Azula went through it again. This time Azula didn't step back quite enough after the second opponent's entrance, leaving her too close for her next attack to threaten both enemies. Wordlessly, she tried again. She'd been having trouble with this one exercise, and could not define why. It was not, by any measure, the hardest that she had done. It was one of the few designed to train reaction to unseen enemies, though, and Azula admitted - if only to herself - that those were the situations she had the most trouble with. Lately ambushes had been a sore point for another reason too.

Resisting the urge to snarl in frustration, Azula moved to begin again for the fifth time when the voice of Li interrupted her. ôIt is clear that you lack the focus to perform this technique. Perhaps it would be best should you begin with something more rudimentary.ö

ôPerform the Talons of the Striking Pheonix,ö Lu demanded, finishing her sister's statement.

Azula spun onto the wizened twins with fury in her eyes. ôI can do it,ö Azula stated with fire in he eyes.

The two wizened crones shared glance and then nodded. ôPerform the Talons of the Striking Pheonix,ö they repeated as one.

Azula simply clenched her teeth to fight back her true reaction, one of anger and spite. The two wizened crones noticed this, but they did not react though. Instead they simply permitted her to move into her stance.

ôBegin.ö The tutors spoke as a single voice.

The first movement began like a flame. A series of small, subtle maneuvers flowed like magma. Every shift in stance and every strike was performed with a precision only Firebending Masters could even dream of possessing. Suddenly, like the element she drew her amazing abilities from, she erupted. Her movements covered a wider area and required much greater effort. Flames danced at her merest whim as she advanced through the routine. Every action was, simply, a work of art. She wielded Fire as a painter wields a brush or a sculptor wielded a chisel.

She rolled ever so slightly on the balls of her feet as she landed from the final tight spiral in the routine.

Li shook her head. ôYour mind is elsewhere Princess Azula. Hone your thoughts. You must be focused.ö

Lo continued her sisterÆs point in the space of a single breath. ôEmotion, like the flame, is an indiscriminate killer when not guided by a powerful will.ö

Finally having had enough, Azula snapped back. ôDo you doubt the strength of my will? I will have you know, that I have achieved a mastery most Firebenders can barely comprehend!ö

ôYour will is strong, yet undermined.ö Lo remained as frustrating to read as ever. Azula knew it was one of the primary reasons her father had chosen the Twins as her teacher. Princess Azula had many gifts and talents. One of these talents was an ability to bend people to her will as easily as she bent Fire.

Li ran a hand on the volcanic glass of the chamber of emphasis. ôLike obsidian, your will is solid and enduring, and when properly hone is as sharp as the deadliest blades.ö

Lo continued the act. ôBut if a foe knows where to strike, you will shatter.ö

Azula knew exactly what Lo and Li were referring to; and it angered her even more. How dare they scold her on that of all things. ôI am not as fragile as you think.ö

In the back of the chamber the door, a solid stone thing, with inlaid handles, utterly un-burnable, creaked open. Azula glanced over her shoulder and scowled as a red-and-gold liveried servant reluctantly entered the room.

ôYou have something to say, servant?ö Azula said softly, slowly turning to face the servant hovering nervously in the doorway.

He threw himself to the ground, his face pressing into the hard floor, an almost perfect bow, marred only by his ill-concealed trembling.

Azula smiled. At least some people remembered how to treat her with proper reverence.

ôYour highness, you wished to be informed when the patient awoke."

Immediately Azula forgot about the exercise and began to walk forward, walking past the man as if he wasn't even present.

Almost as if an afterthought, she spoke to her tutors without even turning to adress them, such was the urgency of her stride.

"Li, Lo, we will finish for today. I will resume in the morning."

The Lo and Li shrugged at each other as if this were just another development in the ongoing drama of life. If one looked at the two crones closely though, one would have seen them exchange a sideways glance that spoke volumes. This development was not entirely welcome.
 

Lanceavalon

Well-Known Member
#2
You know for some reason when I think of what you wrote about Liao I get the feeling that he should have a personality much like the mid season Tyr Anasazi from Andromeda.
 

grant

Well-Known Member
#3
Which character is this one going to focus on? Azula or the OC/SI*?

*Which one is he actually? There isn't any mention to suggest that he's an SI but if memory serves that was the original idea.
 

GhostElder

Well-Known Member
#4
Actually I think Azula and Liao are supposed to share the story focus.
 

Psyckosama

Well-Known Member
#6
drakensis said:
In this version he's an OC.
Yep.

I really wish you'd joined us on this project rather than deciding to go with the SI. :(
 
#7
Psyckosama said:
drakensis said:
In this version he's an OC.
Yep.

I really wish you'd joined us on this project rather than deciding to go with the SI. :(
Psycko, I do think he allowed you to "borrow" ideas from him on SB.com anyhow. There's no real problem.

Well, except that he's moving along far faster then your project. That's an advantage of going Lone Ranger (is the expression correct?)
 

Psyckosama

Well-Known Member
#9
Delta Green Friendly said:
Psyckosama said:
drakensis said:
In this version he's an OC.
Yep.

I really wish you'd joined us on this project rather than deciding to go with the SI. :(
Psycko, I do think he allowed you to "borrow" ideas from him on SB.com anyhow. There's no real problem.

Well, except that he's moving along far faster then your project. That's an advantage of going Lone Ranger (is the expression correct?)
And vice versa mind you
 

grant

Well-Known Member
#10
Personally I enjoy multiple people writing their own work based on the same idea. Of course you have problems where they steal each others ideas, but if one has something you really hate in an otherwise good idea you can switch to another.
 

drakensis

Well-Known Member
#11
Psyckosama said:
Delta Green Friendly said:
Psyckosama said:
drakensis said:
In this version he's an OC.
Yep.

I really wish you'd joined us on this project rather than deciding to go with the SI. :(
Psycko, I do think he allowed you to "borrow" ideas from him on SB.com anyhow. There's no real problem.

Well, except that he's moving along far faster then your project. That's an advantage of going Lone Ranger (is the expression correct?)
And vice versa mind you
Absolutely. Anything I write is open source to you guys and I'll still chip in if I have any suggestions that wouldn't fit with my story but may work with yours.

But I really wanted to tell my own tale, which was already diverging from yours. And writing both would really mess my head around.
 

Psyckosama

Well-Known Member
#12
Slowly he drifted through the beyond, trapped in the world of dreams between the lands of men and of spirits.

Able to see, but not to touch.

Able travel but not interact.

Able to experience, but never to comprehend.

It was black and white at the beginning. They were calm, peaceful. Time passed. He couldn't know how long. The only way to measure it was by the black and the white. The black was chasing the white. Or was the black fleeing the white? It wasn't clear. The only time was measured by their rotation, in a slow, endless dance. There was only the cycle, and then the cycle began again, with every cycle just as meaningful as the last. They became a circle. Or had always been a circle.

Then red. The graceful, melancholic cycle of shades came to an end. The red flashed, violently, free of anything so parochial as a source. The cycle stopped. The white grew pale and sick. It was jaundiced, and then yellow. The red was hideously powerful now. It contrasted painfully. The black, alone, without a second, roared in pain; as much as a color can roar, a paradoxically chilling sound.

There was flailing. Pain. Suffering. The woes of mortality. Life, unable to live, must only... what? What can follow loss? It is madness. The black was mad. Two baleful glowing eyes stared out from beyond the edges of human understanding.

He feared it.

He sunk back towards the easy depths of unconsciousness, as if to retreat from it.

The black retreated. As it faded from his vision, it was replaced with... white. He had it. He'd found it. There was no reason to fear. All he had to do was return it to the black. He floated back towards consciousness, carrying the white. Or it carried him. Either way, it found its way back. He saw the yellow retreating, from the other side. The madness was soothed, and he wondered if it was him.

The black and white returned to their dance. Red had gone. Somehow her could not see it as clearly. A white presence guided him. Slowly clarity returned to him and then he saw her. A beautiful maiden with hair and spirit as pure as virgin snow. She reached out to him. Smiled playfully at him as she pressed her finger against his head, sending him falling. He he fell away from her, her face changed to silky black hair and ruby lips, and golden eyes full of danger.

-- -- --

With a gap, his eyes burst open. Red. Not a flashing, violent red. This red was fuzzy, and rippled, like the ocean. It made him feel sick, so he closed his eyes again. After a few heartbeats - he could measure time now - he opened them again. The light burned, and his vision was blurred. His body was weak, his throat racked with thirst, and his stomach felt so hollow that it almost felt as if he'd collapse in upon himself. Still, even with the discomfort, this state was much better than the profound feeling of lost he'd been experiencing up until now. He absently wondered if that what death was like, before taking a deep breath to begin recovering himself.

ôMy name is Liao,ö he told himself, in a dry, weak voice, struggling fight through the fog addling his mind. This comforted him. He was addled and confused, but he retained his identity.

ôWhere am I?ö He asked himself, ôWhat happened, and how did I get here?ö

As his vision cleared he answered the first question himself, at least in part. The red he'd seen was a curtain. The window was open, and Liao could feel the breeze. The smell of salt in the air told of the the coast. Crimson silk sheets lay across the bed, its gold-painted posts carved in the form of battling dragons, and from above the door the black and red flame of his homeland looked down. Only the nobles of the Fire Nation lived in such splendour.

He was no prisoner then, a relief, but how he'd come to be here, and exactly where here was, that still eluded him.

He knew this place was Fire Nation, but was he still in the colonies or had he been taken to the home islands? If he had to guess, he'd say the islands as the subtle but omnipresent hints of Earth Kingdom culture and design that had become part of the Colonial identity seemed to be lacking.

Still looking about, at the delicately painted walls and lushly carpeted black obsidian floors that surrounded him his eyes locked on a table at the far side of the room. On it sat a porcelain water pitcher, painted in black highlighted with with luxurious reds and golds

Slowly he sat himself up and was overtaken by a momentary feeling of vertigo. Touching his head he felt rough cloth under his fingers. Bandages. How had he been wounded? He could not recall this on its own. It was too fuzzy. It was just a jumble of images. He remembered chaos and then pain, but then it was just darkness. He would have to ask about this.

He didn't know how, but he'd been injured. That certainly seemed the most plausible explanation for him lying in a bed somewhere, with a bandage holding his skull together, the bitter cramp of disuse in his legs and arms, and some surely medicinal herbal scent in the air. He lay there, thinking it over. After a moment he came to two conclusions. Firstly he was in no fit state for higher thought. Secondly he very much wanted to get up.

He waited for his balance to return to him. When he felt comfortable, he levered himself up, wincing, and tried to stand. It seemed all right. His body felt weak and tired, but he was thirsty. Very thirsty. He'd never felt this parched before. He needed that water.

Taking a tentative first step, Liao released the bed and began to move towards the table and its liquid prize. Calling his movement walking would be a misnomer. It was more of a controlled stumble forwards, not unlike the unsteady gait of an infant. In moments though, he reached the table, and holding himself up with one arm, reached for the water.

Soon he reach the table and, struggling to hold himself up with one arm, reached for the water, but the pitcher slipped through his faltering fingers, smashing on the cold stone floor. Falling to his knees he spent a moment considering lapping it up off the floor but he decided quickly that he would not debase himself as such. The sound was bound to bring servants, and they'd bring him all the water he could drink and food he could eat.

A thin smile crossed Liao's face as the door burst open. In rushed an elderly man, who's clothing game him the look of a doctor. The man gazed across the room frantically, before his gaze locked on Liao himself.

ôWhat are you doing?ö the Doctor demanded. ôYou should be in bed.ö

ôWater...ö he said, his voice still barely a crackle due to thirst. ôI need water, and something to eat.ö

The Doctor gentle pulled him to his feet.

ôOf course you do. You're very ill and lucky to be alive. Lets get you back in bed and then see about getting you something for you belly.ö glancing at the door, the doctor glared at the watching servants. ôDon't just stand there! You heard the boy, fetch him some soup and tell the princess! Oh, and find someone to clean this mess up!ö

-- -- --


The sun had reached its zenith over the Fire Nation capital as the two wizened crones sat comfortably at their places on the raised dais. The glassy volcanic rock that made up this hallowed place was washed in the light of the noon sun. The twinÆs pupil stood in the center of the ancient and revered training ground, her body bathing in the sun's life giving rays.

The first movement began like a flame. A series of small, subtle maneuvers flowed like magma. Every shift in stance and every strike was performed with a precision only firebending Masters could even dream of possessing. Suddenly, like the element she drew her amazing abilities from, she erupted. Her movements covered a wider area and required much greater effort. Flames danced at her merest whim as she advanced through the routine. Every action was, simply, a work of art. She wielded Fire as a painter wields a brush or a sculptor wielded a chisel.

Even as Azula ran through a routine of the utmost complexity, Lo and Li were as if statues. They did not rush to praise their student. Instead, they picked up on mistakes no others would detect. The twins were not firebenders themselves. However, they had an eye for detail unmatched in the Fire Nation. In their time, they were peerless in their chosen field. Fire Lord Azulon had called upon them when situations required the utmost discretion. Lo and Li had honed their eye for detail over many decades of service to the throne. It was why AzulonÆs successor, Fire Lord Ozai, had selected them to oversee his favored childÆs training.

It was an open secret that he wished for them to impart far more than their ability to detect and exploit any flaw or weakness in the princess.

Finishing the form, Azula turned to her tutors. An untrained eye would have been awed by the confidence the young woman naturally radiated and her boundless natural talent. She was a marvel by any standards. The twins cared nothing of this, for there was something slightly amiss with their chargeÆs posture.

"Again," Li croaked, sketching out the move with bony fingers. "You're still too high."

"The base of the flame burns hottest. Learn from it. You must keep your center of weight low," Lo concurred.

Azula hid a grimace, her face as impassive as ever. She returned to her beginning stance, stretching out her arms as she did so. She had done this form before. It was within her ability. She started forward, aggressively, keeping the hypothetical opponent on the defensive. A quick pair of strikes, then spin, blocking the first opponent's flame while twisting to engage a hypothetical second. Threatened on each side, Azula leapt back, landing delicately, toes first, and broadening her flames to force back both enemies. The first came on and she ducked low, shooting low, to strike at the opponent's root. She swept that opponent to the ground with a wide kick and rose to meet the second, whose fire blast caught her full in the face -

"A second too slow."

Azula cut off the second crone before she could add her input.

"I know. I was worrying about my weight and lost timing. I'll begin again."

She put a hand to her forehead in impatience. Were she slightly less assiduous about her appearance, she might have brushed a hair back.

"Perhaps we should end your drills early today," Lo suggested.

Azula bristled.

"Are you suggesting this is beyond me?"

"Not at all." Li responded for her twin. Azula suspected this habit of theirs was a conscious strategy on their part to keep any student off-balance by dividing their attention. Yet another test. They'd probably claim that if you could not deal with that minor confusion, you did not deserve to be taught by them. She just thought they were a pair of old hags who enjoyed making things more difficult for others. It was not that she couldn't deal with distraction. She was her father's favored child after all.

"Perhaps the princess might prefer to resume training in the morning," Li continued. "You seem unfocused," her sister finished.

Azula hesitated for a moment. "Nonsense," she said, cleanly. "A real opponent would not wait until I felt more focused."

The old women looked at each other and exchanged a barely perceptible sigh.

Azula went through it again. This time Azula didn't step back quite enough after the second opponent's entrance, leaving her too close for her next attack to threaten both enemies. Wordlessly, she tried again. She'd been having trouble with this one exercise, and could not define why. It was not, by any measure, the hardest that she had done. It was one of the few designed to train reaction to unseen enemies, though, and Azula admitted - if only to herself - that those were the situations she had the most trouble with. Lately ambushes had been a sore point for another reason too.

Resisting the urge to snarl in frustration, Azula moved to begin again for the fifth time when the voice of Li interrupted her. ôIt is clear that you lack the focus to perform this technique. Perhaps it would be best should you begin with something more rudimentary.ö

ôPerform the Talons of the Striking Phoenix,ö Lu demanded, finishing her sister's statement.

Azula spun onto the wizened twins with fury in her eyes. ôI can do it,ö Azula stated with fire in her eyes.

The wizened crones shared glance and then nodded. ôPerform the Talons of the Striking Phoenix,ö they repeated as one.

Azula simply clenched her teeth to fight back her true reaction, one of anger and spite. The two old women noticed this, but they did not react. Instead they simply permitted her to move into her stance.

ôBegin.ö The tutors spoke as a single voice.

Azula began one of the simpler exercises she had been taught. She called forth the flames and performed the broad sweeping attacks. The Talons of the Striking Phoenix was designed mainly for defense against multiple opponents. It was defense against an ambush. As she leapt over a hypothetical spear thrust, she hesitated. Azula managed to disguise the hesitation well. The Princess finished the kick and incapacitated her invisible foe.

She rolled ever so slightly on the balls of her feet as she landed from the final tight spiral in the routine.

Li shook her head. ôYour mind is elsewhere Princess Azula. Hone your thoughts. You must be focused.ö

Lo continued her sisterÆs point in the space of a single breath. ôEmotion, like the flame, is an indiscriminate killer when not guided by a powerful will.ö

Finally having had enough, Azula snapped back. ôDo you doubt the strength of my will? I will have you know, that I have achieved a mastery most firebenders can barely comprehend!ö

ôYour will is strong, yet undermined.ö Lo remained as frustrating to read as ever. Azula knew it was one of the primary reasons her father had chosen the Twins as her teacher. Princess Azula had many gifts and talents. One of these talents was an ability to bend people to her will as easily as she bent Fire.

Li ran a hand on the volcanic glass of the chamber for emphasis. ôLike obsidian, your will is solid and enduring, and when properly hone is as sharp as the deadliest blades.ö

Lo continued the act. ôBut if a foe knows where to strike, you will shatter.ö

Azula knew exactly what Lo and Li were referring to; and it angered her even more. How dare they scold her on that of all things? ôI am not as fragile as you think.ö

In the back of the chamber the door, a solid stone thing, with inlaid handles creaked open. Azula glanced over her shoulder and scowled as a red-and-gold liveried servant reluctantly entered the room.

ôYou have something to say, servant?ö Azula said softly, slowly turning to face the servant hovering nervously in the doorway.

He threw himself to the ground, his face pressing into the hard floor, an almost perfect bow, marred only by his ill-concealed trembling.

Azula smiled. At least some people remembered how to treat her with proper reverence.

ôYour highness, you wished to be informed when the patient awoke."

Immediately Azula forgot about the exercise and began to walk forward, walking past the man as if he wasn't even present.

Almost as if an afterthought, she spoke to her tutors without even turning to address them, such was the urgency of her stride.

"Li, Lo, we will finish for today. I will resume in the morning."

The Lo and Li shrugged at each other as if this were just another development in the ongoing drama of life. If one looked at the two crones closely though, one would have seen them exchange a sideways glance that spoke volumes. This development was not entirely welcome.

-- -- --

Liao greedily drank down the bowl of soup that had been offered him. When he asked for food, the doctor had told him that his stomach was unaccustomed to solid foods. Instead he'd been offered a strange concoction he'd had the nerve to call soup. It was a mix of beef broth, miso paste, mashed vegetables, and medicinal herbs that the doctor claimed would both hydrate him, and help prepare his stomach for heartier meals. It tasted vile, like medicine often did, but right now he was too hungry to care.

He wished theyÆd told him more about his injury, but when he asked the nurses what had happened to him, theyÆd shut up as tight as lizard-crabs. The most he'd been able to get out of them was that they were in the capitol. He didn't even know how long he'd been out, though it had to have been at least two weeks. One week travel over land and down river to the coast, and another by fast steamer to the capitol.

Hearing the door open he glanced up from his first meal and weeks, and actually paused in his consumption. It was her, the girl from his dreams. Unable to look away, he studied the face before him. Ruby red lips, silken black hair, the flawless porcelain skin, and two golden eyes which like that most valuable metal, promised both great danger and even greater rewards. Even more importantly, he knew this face well. She'd aged over the past two years, be he knew this face better than he did his own father's.

Azula regarded Liao inscrutably. He resisted the urge to squirm with considerable effort. It had been two years, after all, and he was not in his best state. He probably didn't measure up well. She, on the other hand, did so excellently, though he fancied he saw something grim in the turn of her smile.

ôAzula,ö he said in a breath.

"Liao," said Azula as she stared down at him, "I don't remember giving you permission to die."

Liao placed his soup bowl down on the table next to his bed before responding, "I wasn't aware that I had."

She frowned slightly and Liao felt a slight chill of discomfort make it up his spine. He'd always wondered what their reunion would be like. On many a night he'd even taken to flights of fancy and tried to imagine it, but in all his day dreams he'd never thought it would be like this. That it would be this awkward

"You seem well," she said abruptly. Liao didn't respond. His condition could speak for itself, and he didn't think 'seeming well' covered it.

"Good," she tried. "I would have been grieved if you had died."

"Thank you for your concern," Liao returned. She didn't react. Despite memories of letters, Liao found he had no idea what to say.

"The doctors told me you were up."

"They were rather insistent that I lie back down," he shrugged. "I don't think I will be up to fighting an agni kai for a while."

Even as he spoke, he continued to trace the lines of her face, comparing it to the one he'd seen in his dream, and he could find no differences at all. Even the look of her makeup and the look of her hair piece were identical. It hadn't been an imagination of what he believed she'd look like. It had been an vision of her now. He had to ask himself, how was that possible?

ôIs there something on my face?ö Azula asked, noticing his attention.

ôNo,ö he replied, looking away in embarrassment. ôYou just look like something out of a dream.ö

Azula's eyes wided for a moment as a slight redness came to her cheeks. Slowly her face softened into a small smile. He considered himself somewhat an expert on Azula's expressions. She had many smiles, but this one was a rarity: a real smile made without any unspoken agenda.

For a moment, she paused, as if unsure. Liao did not remember the girl he knew two years ago ever being unsure. Even when doing something magnificently foolish, she was sure. He counted heartbeats. Six beats later, Azula stole over, and ventured to sit down on the side of the bed with surprising timidity. She gently she touched his cheek before, much to his surprise, touching her lips to his. It was a chaste kiss, lacking any real passion, but he couldn't help but be blown away by the feeling of her velvet lips upon his.

Slowly, he brought his own hand up and ran his hand through her soft, silken hair. Her scent was of cherry blossoms and sweat, that of both a woman and warrior. It was intoxicating.

After an endless moment she drew away and leaned back slightly, making herself comfortable. Her posture was once again that of the proud and powerful princess, but that wonderful smile remained.

"This is a reversal, isn't it?" she asked, in a tone that held a spark of amusement at the irony of the situation.

Liao nodded. "My mind is still putting itself back together," he explained. "Some of my memories are fuzzy. What did I do back then?"

Azula paused again. She put her arms around Liao.

"What did I say then?"

The princess paused a fourth time.

"...don't be afraid. I'm here. I'll protect you until you're better again."

Liao hugged her: not stiffly or tentatively, like her hold around him, but as warmly as he could from his sitting position.

"As I recall," she continued, "I punched you. Even though I had a broken arm at the time."

"I must have forgotten that part." Liao smiled wryly. "I trust you will forgive me for not headbutting you."

Azula frowned and dropped her arms to her sides. ôLiao,ö she stated flatly, ôif you do this to yourself again, you had best hope the wound kills you. It would be considerably more merciful than I would be after such stupidity.ö

Liao blinked. ôI shall strive to avoid life-threatening wounds in future, then.ö

AzulaÆs expression didnÆt change. He sighed and took a deep breath.

ôI wonÆt do anything stupid,ö he said, as earnestly as he could. ôFor both our sakes.ö

This seemed to satisfy her, though she swiftly averted her gaze and stood back up.

ôNow,ö Liao said to her back, ôcan you tell me whatÆs happened? They refused to tell me anything.ö He had a sneaking suspicion that someone had intimidated the nurses and the doctor û perhaps an unpredictable and protective fire princess û but knew better than to mention the possibility.

ôYou were caught in an ambush,ö Azula replied, ôYou and your unit were on patrol when you were caught in a hidden trap. You were struck in the head with a large stone. The doctors say had you not been wearing your helmet it would have killed you.ö

He nodded. ôMy men?ö

ôI don't know,ö she replied, obviously not having realized that he'd worry for the wellbeing of those under his command. It frustrated him, but he knew that many from the home islands shared that thoughtlessness these days. ôBut I can find out for you.ö

ôPlease do,ö he replied. ôHow did I get here and how long I was asleep?ö

ôOne month, four days,ö she said. ôYour grandfather had you sent back here for treatment. The war in the Earth Kingdom goes well. Admiral Zhao û"

Liao actually was forced to resist the very real urge to palm his face.

ôCommander Zhao was promoted?ö

It was not as much a question as much as a expression of disgust. Zhao was a an arrogant brute devoid of all dignity and honor. How a creature like that could hold the Fire Lord's favor he'd never know.

ôShortly after you wereà sent back here. The last word I had was that he was leading an armada against the Northern Water Tribe.ö

Liao raised an eyebrow. ôThe Northern Water Tribe? ArenÆt they isolationist? Why waste our ships and men up there? They have nothing we could possibly want to take.ö

Azula turned around. Liao thought he saw a glint of eagerness or excitement in her eyes. ôThe Avatar. He could rally the tribe against us, and Admiral Zhao wanted to stop him learning waterbending.ö

Liao stopped, confused. ôàhe believes that rumor? The last I heard, the claims of the AvatarÆs return was just a ploy to boost enemy moral and stir up unrest. Barely a year passes without some maniac on a street corner in the Earth Kingdom claiming the Avatar has returned and will soon destroy the evil Fire Nation for its crimes. Are you telling me our fleet was diverted just for that?ö

ôNo,ö Azula returned firmly. ôHeÆs returned. We have too many witnesses. Admiral Zhao, the Fire Sages, our spies in Omashu, and even my brother. ItÆs beyond any doubt. The AvatarÆs back. But we have an advantage. He is just a young boy, with only a single element at his command.ö

ôSo you think this fleet will capture him?ö Liao was trying to work through the implications in his head. If the histories were right, an Avatar could change the entire course of a war. If he were really alive, it would justify a massive change in the Fire NationÆs war aims.

ôZhao? Of course not,ö Azula laughed, with more than a hint of cruel mockery. ôHeÆs trying to crack a nut by hitting it with a sledgehammer. My brother wonÆt succeed either. Have you ever known Zuko to actually succeed at something heÆs set his mind to?ö Another laugh.

Liao declined to comment. He'd never actually met the exiled Crown Prince, and his only real source of information on the young man was Azula herself, and she was hardly a unbiased source. Still, he wished the prince the best of the luck, even if he doubted his chances for success. The probability of one exiled nobleman taking down the most powerful being on Earth seemed rather infinitesimal if you asked him.

ôNo, theyÆll both fail.ö She tossed their hopes aside lightly. ôThey might defeat the Water Tribe, but thatÆs a meager prize next to the Avatar. But now that youÆre back, we will capture the Avatar. We will bring him back to my father in triumph.ö

Liao carefully kept his face blank. When heÆd last known her, Azula had indeed liked to indulge herself in these flights of fancy. æWe will capture the Avatar.Æ æWe will bring down the wall of Ba Sing Se.Æ æWe will slay a dragon each.Æ æWe will rule the world.Æ Of course they were never going to happen, but everyone had a right to dream, didnÆt they? Apparently she had not grown out of that habit. Worse, she actually sounded serious.

ôDo you see?ö she said triumphantly, clenching a fist sparking with blue flame. ôWhen weÆve captured the Avatar, there is no way my father would let Zuko succeed him instead of me. HeÆd accept you as well. The entire Fire Nation would see us as heroes. We would be known everywhere as the greatest benders in the world!ö

Liao sighed and played along. Surely sheÆd get over it in a few days.








More complete draft.
 

grant

Well-Known Member
#13
Famous last words. He must have hit his head worse than they thought.
 
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