Fire | Distorted Reality [ 1 ] | ATLA

1

"The boy in the volcano"

Uncle had told her once, years ago when she cared for stories such as these, that the twin volcanoes began protecting the island after the last firebenders had been taken. The villagers on her island simply called them the Twins, or even the Sisters, because the last two firebenders happened to be such a pair (and beautiful ones he knew in his youth, if Uncle was to be believed). Stalwart defenders that stood on opposite sides of the island, it was said that they began erupting the very next day after they had been taken from its shores, steadily draining lava into the sea for all the years since with no sign of stopping. The Water Tribes didn't dare to approach, too afraid of the poison sea to reach the village nestled in the valley between the Twins.

Her uncle had believed that the volcano spirits protected their little island, but the Water Tribes had proved him wrong not long after that. That had been when she stopped listening to his stories.

The raven-haired girl sighed at her brother as she chased him through the dense jungle, pushing aside dewy palm fronds as they ventured further and further from established trails. He refused to listen to her taunts about him being an incompetent hunter, which only seemed to spur him on. She didn't even know why she came out here to hunt with him, her sense of irritation growing like a stoked flame when sweat dripped from her brow. Her face twisted into a grimace as she and her brother continued to chase their elusive prey. They nearly had a whole village to feed, so couldn't they get a break?

"Zuzu, you really need to work on your hunting skills, you know that?" she said to her older brother. She came across an ancient statue of one of her tribal ancestors, just a giant head now, cradled in the crook of a massive tree's roots, the trunk high above her. It wore a placid smile that taunted her just as she taunted her brother. "Zuzu, where are you?" she sang.

"Shut up, Azula!" he whispered, his voice a harsh whisper. And then she saw him crouched in the foliage, his broadswords held out as he watched the rabbit-fowl standing on a pile of vivid green leaves bigger than both of its predators' heads.

"You can't hunt an animal like that with broadswords, dum-dum. You've got to be kidding me," she said with a dramatic sigh. At the sound of her voice, the animal dashed away again with a squawk.

"You let it get away again!" he yelled in frustration to her, running after it.

"I bet I can get it before you," she challenged with a smirk, running alongside him as they ran. She gripped her bow, made from strips of bamboo, and ensured she still had her arrows in the sling at her back. In her hands it wasn't much more use than his broadswords, but she didn't need to remind him of that. Breaths filled her lungs as she tended to her inner flame in preparation for their little contest that she knew he wouldn't turn down. The air was heavy and moist, carrying the rich scents of wet soil and something floral.

His golden eyes narrowed. "You're on."

Her smirk grew wider as the two ran through the trees and the dense underbrush, avoiding the gnarled roots with practiced ease, neither of them taking their scrutinizing golden gazes off of their prey. They followed it over a clear river, balancing delicately on a tree that had fallen across it. Zuko almost fell when the animal diverted its course toward the mangroves along the river's edge, but recovered in time to avoid falling in the water. Azula grinned in triumph over her better sense of balance, but stopped short when she noticed they had been heading up a progressively steeper incline.