Chapter Text
Zuko
Zuko rolls over with a groan and licks his dry lips. He squints, trying to block out the blazing sun but it’s no use. He pushes himself up with a grunt and a wince. His injuries are still healing from the traitorous actions of Zhao and his band of honorless pirates. Zuko clenches his fist over the wood. It doesn’t matter now. Zhao’s been given a punishment worse than death, so there’s no reason to spare the man any more of his energy. He coughs weakly and swallows against the dryness in his throat and mouth. There has not been any rain or hint of snow in the days after their escape from the north. Zuko should have expected it, this sort of slow torture is on trend for his luck. He just wishes he could spare Uncle.
“Good morning, Prince Zuko,” Uncle smiles. “How did you sleep?”
“Terrible.”
“Ah yes,” Uncle laughs. “Wood can be quite uncomfortable. Especially if you’re old like me.”
Zuko rolls his eyes and looks around. An empty stretch of ocean for miles on end, just like the last two days. He clicks his teeth. It’s going on the third day since they’ve been stuck on this pathic excuse of a raft. He hasn’t voiced it, but he’s starting to get worried. They can only go so long without water. Honestly, they’re lucky a Whalesquid or something equally as dangerous hasn’t eaten them for dinner yet. His luck is bound to run out though.
A thought hits him and he looks back at Uncle, brows furrowed. “Where’s-?”
There’s a giant splash to his right. A sudden weight lands on the poorly built raft and the wood dips dangerously. Zuko shouts and grabs the opposite edge and pushes against the force. The raft bobs before finally settling.
“I’ve told you not to do that,” Zuko shouts. “You could have capsized us!”
The spirit just grins, “relax Zuko! I know what I’m doing. Look! I’ve even caught us some breakfast.”
“We don’t need any more fish,” Zuko growls. “We need fresh water and land.”
“Calm yourself, Prince Zuko,” Uncle says. “Michelangelo is only trying to help.”
Zuko crosses his arms. Of course, Uncle would take this childish spirit's side. Zuko sends the spirit a glare before looking out at the ocean. He was shocked when the creature first graced them with his presence. It had appeared in a blaze of light and unnatural energy that still made him shiver. Zuko stood the moment the boat tipped and his heart dropped when he realized it was a spirit. If his life was anything to go by then the spirits had no love or mercy when it came to him. He prepared himself for a hard fight, but his Uncle pulled him down until his knees and forehead met wood. Zuko cursed himself mentally. How could he forget proper etiquette? You always honor a spirit when it graces you with its physical form.
“Oh, Great Spirit,” Uncle said. “We are honored to be in your presence.”
There was no sound from the spirit for a long time. Suddenly there was a touch on Zuko’s shoulder and he tensed. He didn’t even hear the spirit move.
“Ugh, hey,” the spirit said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where my brothers are, would you?”
Zuko looked up despite his better judgment. The spirit was like nothing he’d ever seen. All bright colors and warm welcoming features. Zuko glanced at Uncle but his head was still bowed. He looked back at the spirit and it raised an eye ridge.
“We do not know of your brothers, Great Spirit,” he answered, stuttering more like it. “I’m sorry we could not be of more service.”
The spirit frowned and stood up. “That’s weird, we were just together.”
There was a shift and Uncle’s head came up. They stared at this strange spirit. It turned its back to them and Zuko was breathless at the show of disregard. Figures a spirit would not consider him a threat. He shouldn’t take it personally, but he’s been dismissed his whole life. He’s tired of it. A hand gripped his trembling one and he takes a breath. There is no use getting upset over the ways of a spirit. They both studied its small form and Zuko was caught by its profile. The spirit’s back held three repeating and somewhat glowing symbols. It curved in a familiar motion.
“A turtle,” Uncle whispered.
The spirit walked around the length of the raft. “Are you guys stuck? In the middle of the ocean?”
“Yes, O Spirit,” Uncle said.
The spirit turned with a grin. “Wow! This is just like Life of Pi. Except there’s no tiger, so maybe not the same. Still cool though.”
Life of Pi? Has this spirit helped a wayward soul in a similar situation?
“Are you some type of water spirit?” Zuko couldn’t help but ask. They are still in the North after all, and water spirits are said to be vicious.
The spirit frowned. “Water spirit?”
“Forgive my nephew,” Uncle said. “Of course, a spirit such as yourself has no use for human divisions.”
“Right,” the spirit said. “You guys must have been out here for a long time. You’re sounding kind of crazy.”
The spirit looked around and suddenly dropped into a low crouch. A second later the spirit was gone, shooting straight up into the air and nearly sinking their only way to survive. Zuko fell forward, hands gripping the rolls of wood but his eyes stayed on the spirit. The height alone would have cleared his entire ship.
“This is very auspicious Prince Zuko,” Uncle said.
“What? How?”
Uncle grabbed him hard by the shoulders. Zuko stared at him, shocked. “Listen, Prince Zuko,” Uncle said, face tight. “A very powerful spirit has appeared before us at our weakest. A mere day after the Water spirit laid down its punishment. This is no coincidence. This spirit might not even know or reveal to us its true purpose, but you have been chosen.”
“Chosen?” Zuko said. “For what?”
The spirit cut through the churning water without so much of a splash. Zuko scanned the waves and jumped when the spirit surfaced on the opposite side.
“Wow,” the spirit said. “There’s really nothing for miles!”
The spirit pulled itself on the raft and sat before them, crosslegged and face grinning. “I guess I’m with you guys until I find my brothers. And land.”
Brothers. The spirit mentioned that earlier.
“We are honored.”
The spirit laughed. “You guys are so formal! Do you at least know where we are?”
Zuko glanced at Uncle. “The North Pole.”
“The North POLE!!!” The spirit shouts. “Wow! I’ve always wanted to travel but this is a bit much. How’d I get all the way out here? How did you guys get all the way out here?”
“Our ship was lost in battle, Great Spirit,” Uncle said. “I am hopeful that another of our fleet will pass by soon.”
The spirit chuckled. “You guys must be really dehydrated. My name is Michelangelo by the way, not ‘Great Spirit.’ Whatever that means. Everyone calls me Mikey though.”
Michelangelo. Zuko had never heard a name so peculiar. It felt heavy on his tongue. The syllables too long and foreign for his voice to make sense of it.
“Michelangelo,” Uncle said. Of course, he’d get it on the first try. “My name is Iroh and this is my nephew, Prince Zuko.”
“Nice to meet you guys! Don’t worry we won’t be stuck on this raft for too long. These things always have a way of working themselves out.”
Zuko felt his shoulders drop at the prediction. Relieved to know that they won’t die out here as he assumed.
That was two days ago.
Zuko snatches a fish from the pile and starts chipping off the scales. ‘Auspicious’ Uncle said. ‘He’s chosen’ Uncle said. All he sees is proof that the spirits are out to get him. At least they aren’t being subtle anymore, maybe now Uncle will believe him. What good is an all-powerful spirit if he can’t get them off this stupid raft! Michelangelo has only been helpful in one aspect and that’s retrieving food. A small blessing that they won’t be hungry when dehydration finally takes them. He glares at the turtle. Michelangelo’s attitude has not waned as the endless ocean stayed endless. In fact, ‘Dr. Positive’ checks every few hours for ships or land, either by jumping impossibly high or swimming spirits knows where.
Zuko pulls off the last of the scales and stabs the fish down the middle. He’s not even hungry, but he needs the energy. Uncle works calmly through a fish of his own and listens intensely as Michelangelo describes the beast swimming beneath them. Apparently, the spirit world had nothing like it.
Zuko dumps the entrails over the side and hopes that nothing comes to investigate. He heats the fish in his palm and waits for the fish to cook. The spirit looks over, like always and Zuko tries not to frown. Michelangelo insists he’s never seen bending before, claiming his humans can’t do it. Zuko still shakes at thought of humans trapped in the spirit world, forever toys for more powerful beings. Michelangelo is some sort of trickster spirit, that Zuko is certain of. The tales he spins are wild at best. He’s a good storyteller though. Although the spirit's demeanor changes every time they answer his most basic of questions. Honestly, does Michelangelo expect Zuko to believe that he’s never heard of the Avatar?
Michelangelo stops talking and Zuko looks up with a raised eyebrow. The spirit’s been a non-stop talker since he appeared. Zuko follows his gaze. The fish hits the wood with a hiss as Zuko shoots to his feet.
A ship.
He can just make it out, a black dot on the horizon, but it’s definitely a ship. He squints and something like a smile pulls at his mouth. A Fire Nation ship.
Zuko throws a powerful burst of flames into the air. He breathes and lets his chi shift the color to royal red. He holds the flame for a few minutes before dropping it with a huff. He turns back towards the horizon and his smile falls. The speck of a ship still sails away without a hint of turning around. It’s too far. There’s finally help and it’s too far.
He drops his head back and yells out a stream of fire.
“Be calm Prince Zuko,” Uncle says, but his eyes are dim. “There is bound to be another ship.”
“We’ll be dead by then!” Zuko shouts. He drops back down and tries not to burn a hole into the raft.
“Relax Zuko!” the spirit says. Michelangelo jumps to his feet in a smooth twist of motion and pulls out the two nunchucks. “That ship is metal right.”
“Of course it is!”
“Great!” the spirit grins.
Zuko opens his mouth to shout at the infuriating creature but he stops. The weapons are glowing bright orange as the spirit starts to swing them. Zuko watches in awe as one elongates and wraps around the raft. “You guys might want to hold on to me.”
Zuko shares a look with Uncle. Touch a spirit? He can’t be serious! Zuko hesitates and sets his shoulders. He’s not going to start being afraid now. Especially not of Michelangelo. He scoots forward and wraps his arms around the spirit's leg. The skin is scaled, hard, and surprisingly cool to the touch. He glares into the red smile printed on the spirit's knees and wonders vaguely if that’s the face of a victim. He peaks to see Uncle curled around the other leg.
Michelangelo swings the other weapon and his scales begin to glow. He pivots, inhuman strength building beneath Zuko’s hand before the spirit throws the other weapon. Zuko watches as the nunchuck extends. He follows it and his jaw drops at the distance.
“There it is!” Michelangelo says after a moment. “Buckle up! This bus is leaving the station!”
Bus?
The raft shifts and then they’re moving at an incredible speed. Zuko shouts and clutches the leg tighter. The sea melts into a blur of motion. The spray of water stings his unprotected face and Zuko closes his eyes. He doesn’t know how long they raced across the water's surface, but the raft slows before finally coming to a stop. The sounds of alarms and panicked shouts of a crew have Zuko opening his eyes.
He stares up as Fire Nation soldiers line the edge, arms ready. Zuko stands on autopilot and shoots a stream of royal fire into the air. The soldiers move back immediately and the sounds of panic shift to calls for the captain.
Zuko drops his arm and stares at the spirit in shock.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Michelangelo grins. His weapon glows orange before unraveling from the raft and Zuko can only stare at the burn marks left behind. Zuko follows the length of the second chain and watches as it to recedes in a blaze of orange. It leaves a small hole in its wake.
“That was incredible, Michelangelo,” Uncle says. A rope falls over the side and Uncle stands with a grunt. He cups his hands around his mouth, “We bring a spirit with us,” he shouts, “do not attack!”
There are mummers of confusion before the Captain finally looks down at them. The man is old, his face bares with pronounced sideburns and Zuko is reminded painfully of General Zhao. The Captain technically can’t reject royalty, but the Fire Nation does not interact much with spirits. They’re considered distractions for the common folk and old traditions held by more primitive people. Most have never even seen a spirit. The Captain finally nods before moving back.
“Oh man, I can’t wait to get off this raft!” Michelangelo cheers. “If I can be honest, Dr. Positive was starting to worry about the bathroom situation.”
Uncle blinks before he tips his head back and laughs. He laughs harder than anything Zuko has ever seen in a while.
“Race you up there!” The spirit spins his weapon, hinges and the weapon elongates in a blaze of color to wrap itself around the railing. Michelangelo winks before shooting up the side of the ship.
“Didn’t I tell you, nephew?” Uncle says. “Very auspicious.”
Aang
Aang sinks deeper into the leopardseal covers and tries to block out the insistent knocking on the door. You would think after saving the literal moon that he’d be able to sleep in. Instead, it’s been meetings, meetings, and more meetings. What else could there be to talk about? They probably want to discuss the prisoners. Again. Aang buries himself deeper into the bed. He doesn’t want to talk about them anymore. Not when the Chief is in the middle of grieving. The man’s been on a mission since-.
Aang sits up with a sigh. There’s no point in avoiding it. He’ll never solve anything that way. He flips his covers off with a groan, “I’m coming!”
He practically floats to the shower and lets the brief shock of ice water force him awake. He’s moving quickly after that and the next thing he knows he’s stepping out of the room with a wave of his hand.
“Finally.”
“Sokka!” Aang yawns. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to get you, mister Avatar,” Sokka says. “The meeting won’t start without you.”
Aang slumps and follows Sokka down the hall. “They might as well,” he mumbles. “I’m not going to agree with them.”
“You should.”
Aang glances at Sokka and takes in the heavy bags under the boy's eyes. The hairs behind his ears have even started to grow back. Aang can’t even remember the last time he’s seen Sokka NOT shave it to maintain the wolf knot. He knew losing Princess Yue would be hard, but not like this. Not this slow decay of who Sokka was as a person.
“Hey Sokka,” Aang starts. “If you ever want to talk-.”
Sokka stops. “Not now Aang.”
“But!”
“Dropped it!” Sokka bites. Aang flintches and Sokka groans. The older boy takes a deep breath. “Look, I’ll be fine. Just give me some time ok?”
Aang nods, but a weight settles in his chest. He wishes, again, that he could wake back up in the temple. Everything is just so different outside of it. Grief isn’t meant to be dealt with alone, at least not at the temples. They would rally around fellow nomads if they were hurting and take a piece of that grief. He knew that the other nations had different cultures, but it was still a shock to him sometimes. It makes him wonder if he’ll ever be a proper Avatar.
He follows Sokka silently into the council room. Sokka takes his seat beside Katara and Aang offers a deep bow to the room.
“Avatar Aang.”
“Chief Arnook.” The Chief has aged at least 5 years since the invasion. Grey touches his temples and a deep frown has made a home on his features. This is why Aang doesn’t think it’s conducive to have this discussion. The man can’t be reasoned with in this state.
“Are you ready to discuss the prisoners?”
“I am,” Aang says. “But my opinion has not changed.”
The room erupts into furious murmurs. Chief Arnook nods. “Neither has mine.”
Aang was afraid he’d say that. Neither of them is willing to budge, which makes these meetings pointless and disrespectful. He can tell from some of the older council members' reactions that they were hoping to break him down. Aang straightens his back. He might be a child, but he is still an Air Nomad. He will not comprise his beliefs to satisfy momentary acts of revenge.
“Killing them won’t bring her back.”
A hush swallows the room. Chief Arnook stares down at him, face still as stone, but Aang does not look away. He won’t.
“I assume you’re taking the spirit with you?”
Aang blinks at the sudden change of topic. “Yes.”
A council member scoffs. “And who said it will be leaving with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“The spirit appeared in our land,” a member adds. “It stands to reason it’s here for us.”
“It revealed itself to me,” Aang says. “The Avatar. Besides, it wants to leave.”
“So you say.”
“You heard it say that,” Sokka answers. “You aren’t able to help it find what it wants anyway.”
The council says nothing to this and Aang frowns in irritation. He thought they were past this. The spirit made itself known a few days ago during a similar, infuriating meeting. It came through in a blaze of green and blue, flittering across the room like a leaf. Aang remembers staring at the spirit in awe as its feet barely touched the ground before it disappeared in a blaze of blue. They searched the city for hours before they finally found it sitting on the edge of the wall.
Aang remembers approaching it. He floated into a sitting position next to the spirit, but the spirit kept its eyes on the ocean.
“Where am I?”
“You're behind the wall of the Northern Water Tribe, or on top of it,” he sent the spirit a look. “Aren’t you afraid to fall?”
“No,” it answered. “Heights aren’t really an issue for me.”
Aang took in the spirit. He took in all its colors and the symmetrical markings covering its body. It reminded him so much of the Air Temples that it hurt. He focused on the hard curve of the spirit's back.
“I don’t think I belong here.”
Aang turned back to the view. “Well, luckily I can help with that. I am the Avatar.”
“The what now?”
“You know,” Aang said. “The bridge between spirits and humans in physical form.”
The spirit huffed a laugh. “What dungeon and dragons game did you pull that from?”
“Dungeons..?”
“Nevermind,” the spirit sighed. “I looked around this whole city and I can’t find my brothers.”
“Brothers?”
“We were together when,” the spirit waved its hand, “this happened. I have to find them first before you try to send me back.”
Aang nodded. “How many?”
“Three.”
Aang frowned. Something scratched at the back of his mind. “There’s four of you?”
“Yeah,” the spirit smiled. “Some of the best ninja turtles you’ll ever see.”
Turtles. The curvature of its back was a shell . Aang turned to the spirit in shock. A real-life turtle spirit. He’s heard stories from the monks, but he never thought he’d get the opportunity to meet one. Four turtle spirits. It can’t be a coincidence. Aang stared up at the sky and a grin began to bloom. He was not sure what this meant, but he could feel the significance. Turtle spirits were supposed to be harbingers of change after all.
“What’s your name, Avatar?”
“Aang,” he answered.
“Mines Leonardo, but call me Leo,” the spirit grinned. “No more of that ‘Great Spirit’ nonsense you guys have been shouting all afternoon. I’m not a spirit.”
Aang let his head fall back with a laugh. A spirit with a sense of humor.
A few days later they were ready to leave for the Earth Kingdom with the spirit in tow. Aang knew they would find the turtle spirits in the other nations, just like he knew Katara was meant to be his water-bending teacher. They should have already set off, if it wasn’t for this last meeting with the council, which he’s now starting to believe was requested in bad faith.
Aang looks around the council room, at all the glaring faces and bows deep at the waist. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he says. “We will take our leave.”
“Now just wait a minute!”
“You can’t just leave-,”
“We haven’t finished discussing the-.”
Aang turns his back and heads for the door. The guards send hesitant looks toward the council but don’t move. “Please don’t make me fight you.”
The air leaves the room at his words. No one moves for what feels like hours. “Let them leave,” Chief Arnook says. The guards part. Sokka and Katara leave first and Aang turns back to the room, but he only has eyes on Chief Arnook. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
The Chief doesn’t say anything and Aang finally leaves.
They walk quickly down the hall and knock on Leo’s door. The spirit opens it with a yawn, “so, how’d your meeting go?”
They share a look. “It went ok,” Katara says. “But it’s time to leave. Are you ready?”
The spirit rolls its eyes. “No, I gotta grab all the suitcases I brought with me. Of course, I’m ready.”
“Alright,” Sokka claps. “Let’s go before people start changing their minds. The North Poles not that great anyway.”
“I thought it was pretty cool .”
Sokka blinks before he bends over, laughing. “Pretty cool! That’s great!”
The spirit grins. “This guy gets it!”
“Not another one,” Katara groans. She heads down the hallway and Aang follows after her with a grin. This spirit is going to fit right in! Leo moves down the hall and again Aang is reminded of the winds in the air temple. Maybe they all represent the temperaments of four nations. Leo definitely has a go-with-the-flow attitude. His smile falters a little at the thought. He wonders then, what the representative of fire would be like. He hasn’t seen much good from the army, but if the spirit embodies the people, then maybe it’ll be different.
He can only hope.
Toph
She’s already up by the time her servants come to wake her. She hardly got any sleep last night, too jittery about today. She lets her hand play in the growing warmth from her window and scowls. They’re late. Minutes pass before the servants knock loudly on her door. Toph sighs, “come in.”
The door swings open and the servants filter in loud and obnoxious as usual. “Good Morning, Miss Beifong.”
She lifts an arm. “Good Morning.”
Sun helps her out of bed and thus begins her morning routine. They wash her hair, bathe her and pat her face with fine powder. The next hour is spent meticulously going over her hair and outfit. Toph lets her finger tap in irritation. All this fuss over a doll that can’t leave its box. It’s different today though.
“Are you excited, Miss Beifong?”
Toph forces a coy smile. “I am! I have not been outside these walls in a long time.”
Sun hums. “That’s great, Miss Beifong. I heard it’s supposed to be a lovely day today.”
“Not like it matters.”
Snickers bubble amongst the servants and Toph grips the delicate silks of her dress. She doesn’t say anything else and waits for the hands to finish with her hair. There are two soft taps against her shoulder and Toph stands to her feet. Sun grabs her hand and leads her out of the bathroom. The servants filter out behind her and Toph rolls her toes. A maid falls hard against the stone floor.
“Spirits! Lin are you ok?”
“She’s bleeding!”
“Someone get a towel for her nose.”
Toph squeezes Sun’s hand and the maid escorts her to breakfast and the sounds of pain fade to the background. Toph sits and feels for her utensils with a tired sigh. Rice and vegetables. Again. She tries to eat as quickly as she can without drawing attention. She finishes her vegetables and pats her mouth elegantly before reaching for the rice.
There’s a clink down the table and Toph groans around her fork.
“So honey,” her mother starts. “Are you excited about your little outing today?”
Toph smiles softly in her mother's direction. “Yes, mother. I’m very excited to walk around the city.”
“But not for too long,” her father grunts. “I already spoke with your guide and he’ll have you back within two hours.”
Toph digs her feet into the ground beneath her. Two hours! It was supposed to be the whole day. “I thought it was for-,”
Her father sighs. “Two hours honey. Your mother and I are worried as it is.”
Rage builds inside her like a mountain. She’s never even felt the stone outside her own home warm from the sun! Heck, she knows, they've practically threatened the whole town to stay inside. They finally let her out and they still restrict her? She feels the fury build in her throat before she swallows it like a landslide. “I understand father.”
“Good.”
Breakfast drags for what feels like days before her father finally stands up. Toph holds her hand out and resists the urge to jump out of her chair. This is. She follows the hum of her parents and reaches out for a solid, warm mass of her guide. She smiles when she feels him near the front gate. Her parents stop and go over the rules with him one more time, but she ignores them. She’s almost there. Just two steps away and she’ll be outside.
“Toph?”
She lowers her head. “Yes, mother?”
“Be careful out there.”
Toph struggles to keep her smile in place, but her guide jumps in. “Don’t worry Misses Beifong,” the spirit says, “I won’t let anything happen to her.”
“Thank you, Raphael,” her father stutters. Toph snorts to herself. He still stumbles over the spirit’s name. “We are so blessed that spirit has chosen our daughter to protect.”
“...Right.” The spirit takes her hand from Sun. his grip swallows her whole. “We’ll be back in two hours.”
The gate opens and the spirit finally leads her outside. They walk slowly down the empty street and Toph forces herself to feel through the insufferable shoes. She can't screw this up. If they suspect anything she'll never be able to leave the walls of her room. They turn another corner and Toph lets go of the spirit's hand with a cheer.
“I’m assuming we’re far enough away?”
“Heck yeah!” Toph grins. She kicks her shoes off and sinks ankle-deep into the ground. Beautiful, warm rock. It doesn’t feel different, but it is. She’s only felt this rock brushed cold from the moon when she’s sneaking back home. This is different. Almost normal. Is that want everyone feels when they walk down the street? The faint cracks from years of stress and the burrows of smaller animals. She pulls her feet out and stands on the warm Earth.
Finally.
She takes off running down the street. The spirit calls after her, but she doesn’t care. This is perfect! The only thing missing is people, but she can't help that. Maybe she can feel around for a cart and see if she can steal something. She's always wanted to try that. The fighters at the arena always made it seem so exhilarating. The spirit catches up to her though in no time at all. For a spirit with such mass, he sure doesn't make a lot of noise. Even his vibrations are quiet. “You couldn’t wait for me to pick up your shoes?”
She rolls her eyes and slows. “I knew you’d catch up.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
They walk down the street and Toph can’t stop grinning. She can still feel the scurrying of different animals. She wants to bury underground with them and never leave.
“I heard Lin fell today.”
“Who?”
“Your maid Toph,” Raph says. “You broke her nose!”
“Oh please,” she scoffs. “People break their noses all the time. She needs to toughen up.”
“Or maybe don’t trip your maid with your weird rock powers.”
“Earth bending, spirit-boy.”
"For the last time," Raph sighs, "I am not a Spirit!"
Toph hums and balances on the edge of a nearby stone bridge. She's heard stories of other kids doing this, but it's not as fun as she thought it would be. "Sounds like something a spirit would say."
The buzzing mass of energy groans and Toph smirks. He's so easy to rile up. Things have been different since he appeared in the middle of a mind-numbing lesson. He burned the yard with his appearance, leaving once soft blades of grass to crumble to ash beneath her feet. It was a nice change of pace from the stagnant days in the house. He's still burning now, or that's how it feels to her. A simmer of heat or energy in every vibration he makes. She wants to say it's like lava, but she's felt this so-called 'hot liquid rock' and has a hard time buying that it exists.
Well, Toph's not really complaining. She's outside for the first time in years because her parents proclaimed him to be her 'protector.' A rock moves beneath her foot and she stumbles with a bit of exaggeration. Heck, she even spins her arms like some of those haughty-taughty girls at the arena. She's already caught herself though. It'll take more than some dumb stone to throw her off balance.
The spirit doesn't even look her way or move to help. Toph straightens with a snort and a growing warmth in her chest. Some protector.
"I need to find my brothers," Raph mumbles. "That's if they're even here."
"And then head back to the spirit world."
"It's not the spirit world!"
"Right," Toph grins. "This so-called 'other dimension' without benders."
"There are no benders in my world."
Toph reaches and places a hand on scaled skin. Huge muscles twitch under her palm and the spirit stops. "No benders?"
"Yes!"
she nods. "Like the spirit world."
Raph throws his arms up with a scream and Toph cackles.
Azula
Azula walks down the hall with a practiced and natural grace. Her shoulders pulled back to the perfect angle to keep her upright without the pathetic puff of the chest like her so-called guide. The General walks ahead of her with long strides and clasped hands that betray his nervousness. General Joru increases his pace the closer they get to the throne room, and Azula represses a laugh. If he was hoping she’d match her stride to his then the general was sorely mistaken. In fact, he should know better than to outpace royalty.
She stops. “General Joru.”
The man keeps walking. “Yes, Princess Azula?”
Her mouth twitches. “General Joru.”
He stops then and turns. Azula’s not sure what he sees, but the man is on his knees a second later. She doesn’t move, just stares down at the man until his arm starts to tremble. “That’s better.”
She walks at a slow and steady pace and pauses just beside his prone form. “We really should do better to remember our stations. Don’t you agree, General?”
“O-Of course, Princess Azula.”
She flicks her hair and continues down the hall. She stops before the double doors and nods to the attendants. They open it with a bow and Azula strides forward. The room is empty and she sinks elegantly to her knee.
Father doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Iroh is a traitor and your brother Zuko is a failure. I have a task for you.”
She lifts her head with a smirk. She knew it was coming, ever since the reports confirmed that the avatar had in fact returned. Her Father had given Zuko a chance to prove himself, after all this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to leave an impossible banishment, but of course, he failed that too. And so spectacularly if the reports were to be believed. She secretly agrees that Zhao's plan was foolish, who destroys a moon spirit when the Nation is boarded by the tides? His arrogance would have cost them everything. If only Zuko was a bit more cunning, he might have gotten out of that incident with an accommodation and a dead adversary. “I will not fail you, Father.”
“See that you don’t,” he says. “Prepare the blessing then be on your way.”
Her hand tightens. “I don’t believe that’s necessary-.”
“Prepare it,” Father interrupts. “It will do well to show the masses that my rule is blessed by the spirits.”
Azula nods, “As you wish, Father.”
He waves his hand in dismissal and Azula leaves without a word. She walks down the hallway and only when she is truly alone does she allow a scowl to grace her features. She rolls her neck and follows the path to the hidden annex of the palace. The guards bow as she passes, but she pays them no mind. There are more guards here than any part of the palace combined. A group of Fire Sages walks by her in silence and she grinds her teeth. Something new drops in and they forget their respect.
Her ears twitch as soft clicking noises grow throughout the hallway, but she doesn’t bother to search for the source. She stops outside the ornate door and indicates for the guards to open them. Azula walks into the lavish room and frowns at the disarray. Silk sheets and pillows spill from the bed without care, food of the finest delicacy lays unfinished, and oil stains the bright wood of the table. It’s as if none of these luxuries hold any meaning. Well, what else would she expect? Azula walks deeper into the room and pushes past heavy curtains to enter the sunroom. The spirit can always be found lounging under the sun and ‘charging’ its energy. It lays stretched in all its dark colors. Purple and green mixed harshly against the royal reds and golds. Almost as if it doesn't belong here.
The spirit doesn’t turn on her entrance and she rolls her fingers. This disrespectful creature. “Great Spirit.”
“Azula. What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
She scoffs. “Don’t pretend that you don’t already know why I’m here.” Its otherworldly spies have already infected every aspect of the palace. She hears their soft clicks everywhere.
The spirit throws a smirk over its shoulder and sits up with a yawn. It has been here less than a week and already acts as if it owns the place. The spirit appeared in a blaze of energy during her first ever council meeting. The disruption made her seize in panic. She looked at Father, but his face betrayed nothing. No one moved when the creature stepped out of the light to stand directly before the First Princess. Even she had nothing to say. A spirit, for that is all the creature could be with its scaled skin and inhuman appearance, had not made itself known to the royal family in over a generation.
A foolish General had waved a fan of fire towards the spirit, towards the Princess. Whether he thought he was protecting her was irrelevant. A servant never throws a flame at the Royal Family. The spirit's back had unfolded in odd wings of metal before she could move. It twirled in the air, staff glowing an eerie purple before pure energy engulfed the fire and the General. The fire died immediately in a puff of smoke. The General threw everything it had at the purple encasing, but nothing he did could destroy the cage. The room had fallen into a hush at the casual display of spiritual power. The spirit floated in the air before landing, again, before Azula. She had glanced at her father, at the fury in his gaze when another General fell to his knees. “A blessing!” the man had cried. “The spirits have blessed your rule and your line. All Hail Firelord Ozai!”
The chant filled the room until everyone had fallen to the ground, but Father's attention stayed on the spirit. The spirit studied the room without saying a word. It just twisted its wrist, and the cage fell away around the gasping general. In fact, the spirit hadn’t said anything until the Fire Sages arrived. It wasn’t until the spirit was proclaimed to be some sort of turtle did her Father’s fury start to abate. Turtle spirits are renowned for their wisdom and power. This had to be a blessing. What other reason would a turtle spirit reveal itself in the throne room?
Father stepped from his throne and towered over it, but the spirit did not waiver. “I am Firelord Ozai. Tell me, what is your purpose here, spirit?”
The Fire Sages twitched at the blatant disrespect, the spirit just raised an eyebrow. “I do not know Ozai.”
Father frowned. “Fire Lord Ozai.”
“I don’t do titles.”
The room went cold at the audacity. Father puffed a breath of flaming air and the spirits staff flicked in color. Azula could barely control her expression. No one spoke to Father in such a manner, but this wasn’t exactly a person. A brave Fire Sage stepped up and bowed. “What should we call you Great Spirit?”
“Donatello.”
Azula brushes away the memory. No point in dwelling on it. “Prepare yourself, we leave in two days.”
The spirit keeps its eyes on her. “I’m surprised I’m being let out of my gilded cage.”
“Father believes it’s important for the common folk to know his rule is blessed by the spirits.”
“I didn’t appear in front of Ozai,” the spirit hums. “I appeared in front of you.”
Her eye twitches. “And I am his heir.”
“I didn’t realize it was official yet,” the spirits smirks. “There are so many whispers. Honestly, it can get a bit confusing.”
Azula digs her nails into her palms. She won’t let it get to her. There’s a flutter just on the edge of her peripheral and she catches sight of one of its spies. Small as a spiderroach, the spirit metal keeps a shimmering eye on her. The Fire Sages are fools if they truly believe this spirit to be benevolent and just. Maybe that’s why it picked her in the first place.
She turns from the sunroom. “Two days.”
“I can’t wait to meet your brother!” the spirit shouts.
Azula lets her face drop into a snarl. How dare it taunt her! She is heir to the most powerful nation in the world. She is the most powerful firebender outside of her father! She slams the door closed and the constant thunk and tap of metal dissipate. She’ll wipe that arrogant smile off the spirit's face soon enough. It sickens her how everyone is enamored with this spirit. With its possible meaning. The Fire Sages say it’s a blessing, but she can see it for what it truly is.
A complication.