Fire Sickness

Chapter 22: Target Practice

I should be writing an essay for my English class, but my professor is an asshole, so I'm writing this instead lol. Hope you enjoy!

"Inhale, and... exhaled. Inhale...now... explosive exhale!"

I didn't think I'd ever produced more sweat or felt more fatigued with just an upright fire fist. No jumps, no flips, just one hand producing a ball of fire and projecting it across the room, attempting to hit an impractically far target.

"This is... impossible," I said with a wheeze, flopping over with my hands on my knees, my back aching from exertion. 

"No, it's not," Enya said patiently. "It's all about the breath."

"You sound like Iroh," I complained. 

"Your uncle is a wise man."

Zuko didn't say a word, just pushed out fire blast after fire blast, barely crossing the halfway mark. He had even less of a chance of accomplishing this task than me, but he didn't care, staring down the target as sweat poured off his beet red cheeks. 

Growling, I flung a fistful of fire across the room, but it petered out a dozen feet away from the target, my shoulder tweaking from the strain.

Enya clucked her tongue, standing to my left, a small smirk on her pale lips. "Anger is not the solution; you need proper technique."

"Oh, cause you know everything about firebending, don't you?"

"Well, I doubt anyone knows everything about firebending, except the great dragon masters," she said, cocking an eye at my tone. "But I am your teacher, so, from you perspective, yes, I know everything."

Zuko took a pause, snickering briefly, before going back to his pathetic attempts.

Fuck technique, fuck my breath, fuck good form. She'd only been back for a few days and the honeymoon phase was already over. I couldn't stop thinking about why she left in the first place, the long-sleeved tops that covered every inch of her perfect, pale skin, the way she looked underneath the Byoki Temple with those tubes running into her arms, pumping that strange, gold liquid into her veins...

I lined my shoulders up with the target, clenching my teeth so hard they nearly snapped. Why would Commander Enya agree to marry Lu Ten? I bet half their children wouldn't even be able to bend. Ugh, having kids with my talentless, useless cousin... it made me sick to my stomach. All my rage and disgust churned in my gut, my skin flushed hot and dark, a single drop of sweat tricking between my brows and dropping of the tip of my nose.

Growling like a wild lion bear, I flung my right fist forward, my arm nearly popping out of its socket from the force. I shouted so loud, Zuko stopped mid punch, jumping in shock. Somehow, some way, my flames managed to travel all the way across the room, hitting the target... but not mine.

"Good work," Enya said, "you have a lot of power, but no precision." She turned to my brother, pressing her fist to her palm, bowing slightly. "You may leave, Prince Zuko, since your target has been hit."

My jaw fell open. "But-but-"

Zuko smirked at me, marching out of the Kai Do with his nose in the air, chest puffed out as he tried to make the most of his scrawny, teenage muscles. Little shit-I couldn't imagine taking credit for something I didn't earn. Once the commander and I were once again alone, I stared her down, sweat dripping off my face, shoulders rising and falling rapidly from my heavy breathing.

"You should try running." Enya leaned against the wall, flipping her long, brown locks over her shoulder. "It will help you keep from getting out of breath so easily."