Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ Metamorphosis of the Queen of Insects ❯ Chapter 2

Metamorphosis of the Queen of Insects

 

By Self Possessed

 

Chapter 2

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or any of the characters within the show. The following is a nonprofit piece of fanfiction for the sole purpose of the reading pleasure of any interested in doing so.

 

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Then sun was still sunken deep beneath the distant horizon when I awoke and shifted under the warm covers in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. The sky was painted a dark gray, littered with the scattered remnants of clouds, reminiscent of last night's squall. Even now, the fresh smell of rain lingered thickly in the air, its viscous scent blanketing out all others.

 

Training would prove difficult today; there was far too much moisture in the air.

 

My eyes fluttered open slowly and I sat up, groggily yawning and stretching my arms to their fullest extent as if trying to grasp the sky in my hands. I reluctantly shoved away my inviting covers, abandoning its unconditional protection. The morning chill took this invitation and raced forward hungrily to devour me, clawing its way up my thin nightgown, its cold grip greedily squeezing my body, before my warm breath once again chased it away.

 

It was like this every morning. Every morning I would follow the same routine; get up, get ready, go train. This was like every morning, except I felt…empty; there was a void, a deep expanse where something used to be. Something was missing; someone who would hug me back and I clutched her to my breast, someone who would always be there for me everything morning with a warm smile on her face…

 

Ai!

 

Eyes snapping open, I twisted around and began to frantically tear apart my bed in search for her. Covers flying and a strong gust billowing as if another storm were passing through, my maelstrom of activity abruptly stopped when I bumped my head against the harsh headboard. Wincing at the unexpected pain, my vision began to slowly clear as I focused on the blurry shapes swimming around my eyes. Wait, my pillow wasn't red…

 

Blood. There was blood. Lots of it. Blood. Blood! Blood was everywhere! My pillow was drenched in blood! My blood!

 

Slowly rearing up, my eyes widened slowly. I began to tremble and hyperventilate, my chest heaving strongly, eyes dilating into pinpricks. The events of the prior night flashed in front of me in a solemn procession, its ruthless march endless and unrelenting, boring its way deep into my skull. Waking up at night. Zuko. Mother. Crying. Broken porcelain. Father. Abandoned. Room. Kata. Mistake. Ai falling. Ai burning. Ai dieing.

 

Ai!

 

A trickle of blood found its way down my forehead, snapping me out of my reverie. Gravity grasped a hold of it and dragged it down the curves of my face where it mixed with the tears that had sprung up, leaking out of my eyes.

 

Ai…

 

I fiercely squeezed my eyes shut, harshly scrubbing away the tears before wincing again in pain. Tenderly, I brought a finger to explore my head, wincing again as pain radiated throughout my skull in response. Pulling it away, I found my finger painted a repulsive bright red, glinting against the miniscule light that wormed its way into my room.

 

Curling up into a fetal position, I shuddered slightly, arms tightly clenching an invisible Ai against my chest in a silent eulogy for my lost friend. A friend who had asked for nothing and yet gave everything in return. A friend that I betrayed.

 

Father would be displeased if I didn't practice.

 

With that thought in mind, I climbed out of bed after a brief respite, dizzy and wobbling slightly from the blood loss, before once again preparing for the day. Like always. Like everyday.

 

Just without Ai.

 

--------------------------------

 

The sound of my light footsteps tapping against the floor filled the never-ending hallway, the ceiling of which seemed to extend toward the heavens. Shadows cast by the crackling torches danced furiously on the intricately carved furniture befitting a family of royal status. Passing by various paintings of my forefathers, I looked warily about, half expecting something, anything, to happen.

 

Nothing happened. Not a noise, not a sound. The building was silent, the rest of the inhabitants fast asleep.

 

I passed by the piece of burnt floor that marked the grave of an insect. It didn't stir. I passed by the door to my brother's room. It remained closed. I passed by the frame that Zuko and I had hid behind, coming to an abrupt halt at the foyer.

 

Shattered porcelain lay strewn about in a pattern all over the floor, scorch marks peppered in-between them in a random fashion. A gaping hole was left in one area where my mother had knelt last night.

 

Closing my eyes briefly, I futilely tried to stop the events that had transpired last night from rewinding over and over in my head in a vicious loop. Carefully tiptoeing around the shattered fragments, I hurriedly stepped outside, taking in a deep breath of fresh air.

 

I could find no trace of my trail of tears; they had evaporated long ago, forgotten.

 

--------------------------------

 

The smell of rain gradually dispersed from the air and the insects began their daily rituals once more, freed from the pressure of the downpour. The sun began to peek over the horizon, its scorching rays reaching out, ready to bathe its poor victims in its unyielding heat.

 

A thick coat of sweat had already drenched my body despite the morning chill, the dawn light only now beginning to reflect off it with a plastic gleam. Decked out in the proud colors of the Fire Nation, I stood with a slight bend, hands on my knees, taking in deep but controlled breaths.

 

There. That was a couple hours of practice. Everyone should be rising soon.

 

I tiredly brushed aside a bang of hair that found its way across the center my forehead, inadvertently wiping off a great deal of sweat off my forehead in the process as well. Muscles burning and lungs aching, I finally looked up from the ground, a frustrated expression plastered on my face.

 

Damnit! Why can't I get that move anymore! It was just a series of simple midair kicks…

 

I sighed as I glanced over to a small, empty boulder glaring at me in an accusatory manner, its top smooth like that of a bench. Each time I would walk over, ready to chuck it far into the sky, I would see Ai's ghost sitting elegantly there, smiling, quiet, observant, encouraging, and more than anything else, loving. Ripping my gaze away, I again began the sequence of strikes in a vain attempt to avoid the rock's stare.

 

The kata began with a series of jabs, spitting fireballs into existence with each thrust, each brilliantly piercing in color, screaming joyously throughout the duration of their short existence. All right, so far so good. Now for the aerial kicks.

 

The first kick was successful; a perfect spin, angle, and snap as well as a successful fireball. But in the middle of the second aerial, Ai's betrayed eyes would again appear, staring lifelessly at me. Instinctively twisting in midair, I once again landed unceremoniously on my rump with a yelp.

 

Damnit. Not again.

 

Rubbing my sore, dirt covered behind, I let out another frustrated sigh. I had no more tears left; the sweat kept washing them all away.

 

Hushed whispers drew my attention and I turned my eyes in their general direction. Two witches older than the Fire Lord himself were cackling to one another, their hands lifted to their boneless mouths in a mockery of class. Their eyes stared at my form with mirth, sharing in some hidden joke, their wrinkle-ridden skin betraying their hidden sneers. As I traced the path they were slowly hobbling on, my eyes came to rest on the open door to the foyer room.

 

My father stood in the doorway, his huge figure dominating the small space, a stern expression on his face as he studied me disapprovingly.

 

I immediately jumped to my feet and assumed a ready stance, sweating now not only because of the long workout. Quickly starting up another kata I knew well, I filled the air with countless fire blasts in a hopeless effort to cover my incompetence.

 

The sky would rain fire long after the old hags entered the building.

 

-----------------------------

 

Today is the day! I will be welcomed back today! I lied to myself. Walking up the stairs, the warm sun's rays at my back, I opened the door, not expectant, but desperately hoping.

 

I'm finished! I would declare with pride.

 

Welcome back. Good job. Excellent work. I'm proud of you. Would come the response.

 

Thanks! I would reply with a slight blush.

 

The emptiness of the now spotless foyer was all that greeted me. The tiny shadow that I cast stretched about futilely attempting to find something, anything, even a small piece of evidence from earlier in the morning. Finding nothing, it receded back, disillusioned. Sighing softly, I closed the door, the angry rays of the sun screeching in protest as they were shut out.

 

As I solemnly trudged through the hallway, dirtying the tiles with my shoeprints in the process, the cackle of the witches again caught my ear. Hesitating slightly, my body gravitated in their general direction as I weighed the consequences.

 

Curiosity won.

 

Quietly offing my shoes, I tiptoed in the direction of the voices, taking care to hide behind each and every table and corner as I creeped towards my destination. In the middle of the hall, one brave and foolish insect stood its ground, dutifully patrolling the entrance to the secret base. Undeterred, I summoned forth a tiny spark of flame, silencing the would-be watch guard quietly and efficiently.

 

Stealthily darting behind a curtain, I congratulated myself for a job well done. Mission success! Perking my ears up, I eavesdropped on the conversation.

 

“…too WEAK! You saw how she was out there! She could not even perform the most basic sets properly! She lacks discipline! Oh, why does she displease me so?”

 

With each word, I cringed in my hiding place, violently biting down on my bottom lip until I drew blood, fiercely fighting off tears. I clutched the curtain tightly, it a poor substitute for Ai's comforting embrace.

 

“She has talent lord Ozai, a talent not seen for many generations. She is a prodigy.”

 

I allowed a small smile through and relaxed my grip. Maybe the old ladies weren't so bad after all.

 

“Talent is worthless if it is left untapped!”

 

A frown.

 

“She is giving it her best. But not even she can be perf...”

 

“SHE MUST BE PERFECT!”

 

Silence followed that statement as both old ladies stopped to process and contemplate the outburst. I waited anxiously, squirming with the palpable tension in the air. After much deliberation, one of them finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

 

“Although she is young, perhaps you should send her to the royal Fire Academy for Girls,” one conceded.

 

“Yes,” agreed the other. “There are also two other young prodigies from other noble families who will also be attending this year as well.”

 

“With our recommendations, we can bypass the age limit.”

 

“Surely the director will allow one with the golden eyes of the royal family in without fail.”

 

“Yes, it is a good idea.”

 

“Yes, it is a good plan.”

 

“Yes, you should send Azula to the royal Fire Academy,” they chorused together.

 

Those witches! Those hags! How dare they even suggest this sort of thing! Who were they to assume that my family will simply kick me out and let some stranger instruct me! Me! I have talent! I am a prodigy! They said so themselves! Father surely will…

 

“Very well.”

 

My eyes opened up in shock, the tears I had been previously willing away surging forth unchecked with nothing left to stop their rampage. Throwing caution to the wind, I charged out of my hiding place, flinging aside the curtain, and thundered towards Zuko's room.

 

“Zuzu!” I bawled, the tears still spilling out of my eyes as I reached my hand out towards his bedroom door. “Zuzu! Father wants to send me away! Father wants to…”

 

The door flew open with a bang, the momentum of which slammed me into the floor. Looking up tearfully, I found standing in the doorway stood not the concerned Zuko I was calling for but instead a very angry and irate mother that stood towering over me, an unseen wind behind her ominously toying with her skirt and hair.

 

Had she been a firebender, the entire place would be ashes right about now.

 

“How dare you young lady! Do you know how EARLY it is? Zuko needs his rest! And stop calling him that…childish…nickname!”

 

“But…but!” I sniffed.

 

“NO BUTS!”

 

But I have to get up earlier than everyone else every single day! I protested silently, my unheard plea unable to exit the confines of my mouth.

 

A tired moan came from within the bedroom.

 

“Oh I am sorry dear. Go back to sleep. It is nothing. Mommy will be with you in a moment once she takes care of this,” she called sweetly into the bedroom. Quietly and carefully shutting the door, she again turned to face me, her expression the exact opposite picture of sweetness.

 

“Now young lady you listen to me. You do as your father told. I do not CARE what you think about it. You do as you are told. Do you understand me?”

 

Opening the door once more, mother slipped back into Zuko's bedroom, leaving me standing alone outside his door. Although I made no sound, the tears kept falling, some finding their way into my mouth, pitifully open in disbelief, my quivering bottom lip curling up and inwards. The iron taste of blood and the salty taste of tears mixed on my tongue as I turned sadly away and trudged towards my room.

 

I stopped once, giving the door a longing look, hoping that it would open and Zuko would rush out to comfort me in his warm embrace.

 

I waited. But no one came out.

 

A high-pitched whine escaped my throat before it was forcefully silenced. Rubbing my eyes clear of the tears, I began the slow trek towards my room, stopping every so often to rub them clear again when new tears would leak out.

 

-----------------------------

 

“Please open up dear.” The nauseatingly sweet voice of my mother drifted into my bedroom, piercing the flimsy door that barred her path.

 

I was curled up in the middle of my bed hugging my bloodstained pillow, staring blankly out the window. This banter had been going on for a while now, the blood red sky a testament to the passage of time.

 

“Go `way, ” I yelled into the pillow. I would never forgive them. Ever. My stomach rumbled in disagreement.

 

The doorknob jingled a bit, its golden surface winking in protest at the motion.

 

“I have had it with you young lady! Your selfishness will get you nowhere! Now COME ON OUT!”

 

“No!” Me? Selfish? Can't I afford to be? Just a little?

 

“When your father gets home…”

 

“Now now, there is no need to go that far,” drawled a kind and sagely voice. My ears perked up in recognition. “What seems to be the problem here?”

 

My mother sighed in frustration. “Azula is refusing to come out of her room. She has wasted the ENTIRE DAY! MY ENTIRE DAY! She has gotten NOTHING done, not even her training!”

 

Did too! You just never pay attention to me! Again, my voice was silent.

 

“Calm down Ursa. Have some delicious tea! I was just brewing up a hot steaming cup of jasmine tea in the kitchen. Go try some, it is my favorite.”

 

Yup, that's uncle all right, his Royal Tea-loving Kookiness. To him, everything can be solved with a cup of tea, especially if it was jasmine.

 

“You go relax a bit and I will handle this.”

 

“Oh thank goodness,” huffed my mother with much flair. “I do not know what we would ever do with that good for nothing child without you around.”

 

Footsteps could be heard stalking away in a hurry.

 

“Do you hear that Azula? She is gone now.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Will you let me in?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Cuz.”

 

“Because why?”

“Cuz!”

A slight pause.

 

“I am coming in now, okay Azula?”

 

There was a sizzling sound at the door with an accompanying burning smell wafting into the room. The doorknob began to glow an abnormally bright red, the metal melting into a viscous syrup that dripped ever so ominously onto the floor. Alarmed, I shot up from my fetal position, quickly stuffing my pillow underneath the comforter, and managed to resume hugging it again as the door burst open with a bang.

 

A large, pudgy hand could be seen extended through the now door-less doorway in an open-palmed strike. Damn uncle Iroh and his firebending.

 

“Now what seems to be the problem with my favorite niece?” questioned uncle Iroh as he waddled into the room.

 

“I AM your only niece!” I retorted into my pillow.

 

“You are still my favorite niece.”

 

My bed suddenly yawned inwards like a sinkhole, the mattress springs squeaking and groaning in protest as they attempted to accommodate an enormous new weight. Uncle was sitting down besides me. Despite my anger, I still let out a small prayer that the bed wouldn't give way and collapse.

 

I felt uncle trying to stroke my hair and I desperately wormed away.

 

“What happened to your head?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

A brief silence followed.

 

“I hit my head while practicing,” I conceded.

 

“I see. And where is Ai?”

 

A tear made its way to my eyes again. Damn uncle and his perceptiveness.

 

“I lost her.”

 

“Ah, is that why you are so upset?”

 

I mumbled my answer unintelligibly into the pillow, brushing the tear away before it could fall. Uncle didn't need to know everything.

 

“Tell you what, I will buy you a new doll as soon as I can. Promise.”

 

“It won't be the same as her!”

 

Instead of arguing or preaching to me, uncle Iroh brought out a smuggled piece of freshly baked bread from under his large sleeves as a peace offering. Though I couldn't see it with my head buried under the covers, the delicious smell made its presence known, taking my nose prisoner and refusing to let go.

 

Damnit I will not fall for that! I will not…

 

My stomach rumbled. I cursed in defeat.

 

Damn uncle Iroh and his cleverness.

 

“Are you sure?” he teased tauntingly.

 

Uncle Iroh made an obvious motion of opening his colossal mouth wide, bringing up the tantalizing…tasty…

 

Faster than I had ever moved before, my hand flashed out and gripped his beard. With a forceful yank, I shoved his face into the mattress, liberating the treat from his pudgy grasp in the process.

 

“Nice moves there! I see you have been practicing!” Uncle Iroh chuckled, rubbing his beard as he watched me wolf down the bread.

 

“I will get a beautiful Earth Kingdom doll as soon as I reach Ba Sing Se. The very latest fashion. How is that?” he asked after I finished. I sat upright on my pillow at attention as he brushed off the few flakes of bread around my mouth.

 

“Mmkay.”

 

“I did not hear you.”

 

“Okay,” I replied. Smiling up shyly at him, I added “Old Fuddy-Duddy Uncle.”

 

“Hey, what happened to `His Royal Tea-loving Cook?'” he exclaimed in false indignation.

 

“It's `His Royal Tea-loving Kookiness!'” I corrected haughtily.

 

“And who is `His Royal Tea-loving Kookiness?'”

 

“You are.” That apparently wasn't good enough of an answer.

 

“I said, who is `His Royal Tea-loving Kookiness?'” asked uncle Iroh a second time as he began to relentlessly tickle me. Damn, he knows all my weak spots.

 

I barely managed a gasped “you are!” between laughs, limbs flailing about helplessly in a vain effort to escape the evil tickling fingers.

 

After my laughter finally died down, I snuggled into his round, pregnant belly as uncle Iroh hugged me tightly in return, his large comforting hand cupped around my tiny shoulder.

 

“The Fire Academy does not have dormitories you know. You will only be attending in the morning and afternoon.” Well he did his research.

 

“I know.” Actually I didn't, but he didn't have to know that.

 

“And you will have people your age attending there as well!” Definitely did his research, that crafty old man.

 

“Mmm.”

 

Uncle Iroh began to rock back a forth, humming some strange melody to fill the gap, before pausing abruptly.

 

“Do you want me to sing you a song?”

 

“Nah, your singing is horrible.”

“Hey! You really think so? Maybe you just need to hear me with a banjo…”

 

“I just need you uncle.”

 

That silenced him. We stayed in our positions a little longer.

 

“I have to leave now.”

 

“Don't go,” I murmured.

 

“You know I cannot do that,” he sighed, raising his hand as if to rub my head before pausing in midair. “I will not force you to come, but I know it will mean a lot to Lu Ten if you saw us off. I know it will mean a lot to me.” His hand fell upon my back, caressing there instead.

 

Laying on his belly while listening to its punctual cycle of rumbles, I sighed again before looking up and nodding slowly.

 

“Ursa is going to have my hide when she sees the door.”

 

“Then you better start making a LOT of tea.”

 

-----------------------------

 

The tiring sun was nothing more than a sliver now, its warmth gradually waning as the night cold took over. The sky was painted a vast array of the colors of fire, gorgeous reds, beautiful oranges, and bright yellows; a symbol of good fortune for the Fire Nation army marching towards the Earth Kingdom.

 

Uncle Iroh was leaving.

 

Don't leave me.

 

Troops were amassed in massive formations, entire towns worth of battalions marching side by side in an orderly and disciplined fashion. Some carried a diverse assortment of polearms or even variations of chain whips. Others wielded broadswords or even projectile weaponry like bows and arrows. Some rode four-legged beasts of various breeds, carrying with them pyrotechnic explosives. A few proudly waved banners of the Fire Nation high in the sky, the flags fluttering slowly in the slight breeze. In the rear came the new experimental “tanks,” hulking monsters of metal outfitted with spiked wheels and spring-loaded grappling hooks. All in all, it was an impressive sight to behold.

 

Uncle Iroh was leaving.

 

Don't leave me.

 

This was the grand army of the Fire Nation sent to destroy all her enemies that would dare to stand in her path to supremacy, leaving nothing but ashes and destruction in its wake. It was a frightening and yet breathtaking display of power. It represented the awesome might and glory of the Fire Nation, the greatest and by far the most superior of the four nations.

 

Uncle Iroh was leaving.

 

Don't leave me.

 

Somewhere in the vast sea of soldiers marched uncle Iroh, if his undignified waddle could pass for marching, and cousin Lu Ten. My eyes desperately scanned over the troops for any sign of uncle's potbelly, but nothing would disclose his location. I vigorously waved a miniature Fire Nation flag over my head, jumping up and down in a fruitless endeavor to gain a vertical advantage over the cheering townspeople jammed tight beside me.

 

Uncle Iroh was leaving.

 

Don't leave me.

 

I ceased my frantic leaping as the army disappeared over the distance horizon, my sad waving slowly dieing down. The army would have a hard night and day's march in order to reinforce the troops already stationed in the Earth Kingdom in time. But none of that mattered to me.

 

Uncle Iroh was gone.

 

He left me.

 

The townsfolk began to turn away and return to their homes, murmuring amongst themselves. Some gossiped while others planned to take advantage of the newly vacant jobs to be found throughout town.

 

But I stood there, still silently watching, silently waving my small flag at the horizon. A large hand then grasped my tiny one in its own, but I never stopped waving. Turning to look into the person's eyes, I came to view the luminescent yellow orbs of my father. Even as he dragged me back, I kept waving and waving away at the empty expanse.

 

Uncle Iroh was gone.

 

I'm alone.

 

-----------------------------

 

Father was dragging me after him at an unbelievable speed, causing me to stumble repeatedly and resort to small hops just to keep up with his furious strides. My vision was filled with a bright sea of colors as the torches marking the passageway blurred together into a raging inferno, its ravenous flames a welcome procession to the gates of hell. Disoriented by his vigorous pace, I was unable to recognize the rooms that flew by or distinguish the direction we were heading in.

 

But I instinctively knew his destination.

 

With my free hand I attempted to loosen my tiny arm from his bone-crushing grasp, entirely sure that I would find large, purple bruises on my wrists in the morning. Yelping slightly in pain, I retreated when his grip tightened in response and instead decided to turn to gaze at him pleadingly.

 

It hurts. Please stop.

 

Father was angrily mumbling under his breath with his jaw clenched tightly, his livid face taking on an unhealthy shade of red. As I stared up at his giant figure, shadows rushed forward to consume his face, hungrily swallowing his features. In its place resided the hideous monster, resurrected once more. Quickly averting my gaze in fear, I again lost my balance as he abruptly stopped to hurl open a metal door.

 

With a grunt of effort, father tossed me into the prison like he would an unwanted rag doll, slamming me into the far wall in the process. The tiny Fire Nation flag slipped out of my grasp, clattering against the floor as it slid into the corner where the shadows devoured it.

 

It hurts. Please stop. Please?

 

“Why were you wasting time watching the troops? You should have been TRAINING!”

 

Struggling to regain my senses, I heard him stalk forwards, his booming footsteps commanding all other noise to cease. My eyes shut in pain as his massive hands once again found my wrists, engulfing both of my tiny arms in a tight clasp. I was unceremoniously hoisted up before being roughly slammed against the wall, my feet dangling helplessly in midair. Opening my eyes slowly, I found myself being stared down by two glowering orbs, his face so close that I could feel the heat of his breath searing through my skin.

 

“You lazy, worthless scum! How could you possibly be related to me?”

 

My breath suddenly escaped me without my volition, forcefully expunged from my lungs. Eyes widening, pupils dilating into pinpricks, my mouth formed an O shape in a wordless shriek of pain. Spittle mixed with blood soared out of my open mouth, blanketing the entire perimeter in a sea of watery reds.

 

It hurts so much. Make it stop.

 

“Why do you disappoint me so Azula? Why?” father howled, accentuating each syllable with a hard knee driven deep into my stomach, the sheer force of which caused my midsection to lift upwards to the point that my chin would touch his shoulder.

 

Can't…breathe…please…stop…

 

The beating continued, ignorant of my breathless plea until my father finally stopped, breathing heavily from exertion. My motionless body dangled briefly in place before he viciously threw me to the floor in disgust.

 

It hurts so much. Make it stop. Make it stop.

 

Struggling to my hands and knees, I began to vomit and cough violently, drowning in my own fluids as I desperately gasped for much needed air. My eyes teared up and my entire body shook, the brief moment of pure agony overwhelming all my senses. I collapsed on my side into a puddle of my own filth when my throat finally cleared, taking in hacking breaths in an attempt satiate my oxygen starved body.

 

It hurts so much. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.

 

It was a smell blessing that I had not eaten much today.

 

Father stood with his back to me, composing himself as if he had just completed a brief kata. After a short, thoughtful pause, he spoke, his voice now calm and collected.

 

“Well, at the very least Iroh will not be around any longer to distract you from your studies like he did today.”

 

Suddenly spinning to face me again, father began to advance toward my prone form, visibly becoming more and more agitated with each step he took.

 

“DAMN THAT IROH!”

 

Father's foot rose high into the air…

 

“THAT SHOULD BE ME OUT THERE COMMANDING THE TROOPS!”

 

…as he began to relentlessly stomp on me.

 

It hurts so much. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.

 

“HOW DARE HE TAKE MY RIGHTFUL POSITION!”

 

I curled up into a fetal position in an effort to defend myself as his foot rose up over and over again, raining blow after blow against my arms and legs. I clenched my eyes tightly shut, face scrunched up in fear as I tried to weather the storm. The rigid sole of his shoe smeared dirt trails on my skin, the force of each strike threatening to shatter my bones into tiny fragments.

 

Oh gods it HURTS SO MUCH MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP.

 

“HOW DARE HE TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE SITUATION!”

 

And just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. My ragged breathing filled the air as I gasped in staggered breaths, sobbing helplessly in fear and pain. It was akin to the kind of whimpering of a person makes when they have lost all hope.

 

Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop.

 

“Ahh, Azula. Be a good girl and do not disappoint your father anymore, understand?” said father with a kind and gentle face. And yet, his eyes did not reflect the fake smile he sported.

 

When I did not immediately respond, he roughly grabbed my chin and lifted me high up off the ground, his fingers painfully digging deep into my jawbone.

 

Stopstopstopstopstopstopstopstop.

 

“I said, be a good girl and DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME!”

 

The monster's face was twisted in a mask of rage, unfocused eyes flitting back and forth. As I nodded slowly, father's face relaxed. I collapsed into an unmoving heap onto the floor as he dropped me onto the cold floor, willing the pain to go away.

 

Father began to walk out of the prison, the echoes of each footfall fading slowly from my hearing.

 

He paused briefly at the doorway.

 

“Tomorrow, you will attend the Royal Fire Academy for Girls.”

 

A statement of pure fact. Nothing more, nothing less; no room for complaint or objection.

 

I lay motionless in my position long after the dreadful sound of his footfalls disappeared, pain radiating from each part of my body until it overwhelmed me and I knew no more.

 

-----------------------------

 

I opened my eyes to find nothing but darkness all about me. Strangely enough, I could still see my own body as if it were a living flame, providing a soft light in this cold, dark abyss.

 

I cried out for mother. I cried out for Zuko. I cried out for Ai. I cried out for someone, anyone. I didn't want to be alone.

 

And in answer, a large, plump dragon appeared, flying towards me with a jolly laugh belching from his throat. I happily reached out towards him, my arms stretching wide in ecstatic welcome.

 

I'm not alone!

 

But in the darkness behind me, I heard a loud, booming laughter. A huge red dragon appeared in the distance, slithering toward its prey. I turned towards the fat dragon for help, but it was already far, far away.

 

I ran towards him, screaming as I tried desperately to flee. And yet I was not fast enough. I screamed for him to stop, to help, to save me. And yet he did not answer, he did not stop, he did not come, he did not help. He did not save me.

 

The red dragon latched onto my ankle, causing me to lose my balance and fall. I struggled, panicking, as it slithered up my legs, around my arms, and across my neck. It wrapped its scaly and cold body around mine, chaining me, choking me, restricting me. I could not get away. It would not let me get away.

 

I looked up at the retreating form of the fat dragon as he disappeared into the distance. I lay there, defeated, hopeless, and betrayed, as the red dragon consumed me in a river of scales.

 

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I am Azula.

I need no one but myself.

I am perfection.

 

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Author's Note 1: I honestly didn't intend for this chapter to be this long, but the story sort of just took off on its own. Future installments may not be of this length. With this length though, I'm worried that with all the scenes I stuffed in here, readers will forget many of the precious moments that I've included throughout the chapter and focus only on the beating.

 

Author's Note 2: The Ozai I'm portraying is heavily inspired by Hamdo from the anime Now and Then, Here and There. It doesn't do Hamdo justice though; that guy is a true psychopath. If you're into depressing anime, give that series a shot; it makes my story look bright and cheerful.

 

Author's Note 3: Forlorn Maiden: I hope this chapter adequately explains Iroh's relationship with Azula. Although he could have been her root and support, he was instead dragged off into the war and would therefore be unable to help her during the transformation to come. I just like Iroh far too much to make him a bad guy.

 

Author's Note 4: forgetmenot45: I'm glad you noticed the haiku. =) There are more dream sequences to come as well. However, I didn't intend for Azula to become like the Azula we all love to hate just yet; I wanted her as an ordinary (NOT innocent) child who would transform into that Azula. If the last chapter portrayed her as too evil, hopefully this chapter will amend things. Tell me what you think. =)