Chapter-71

It had been nearly four days since her banishment, and during that time, she hadn't stopped moving, wandering aimlessly until her feet throbbed and bled. She suffered from dehydration and starvation, growing weaker with each passing day. But Azula paid little attention to her deteriorating condition.

She found herself seated on the ground one chilly night, deep within a forest in some Earth Kingdom territory. Her body shivered in the cold breeze; the early days of spring often brought frigid nights. In her solitude, she pondered two unrelenting questions: What to do? Where to go?

These questions had plagued her since her banishment, and she couldn't help but wonder if her older brother, Zuko, had felt the same. She quickly dismissed the comparison, believing herself far superior to her "pathetic" brother. She had been banished without hope of redemption, condemned to a miserable life among the commoners and the underbelly of society. It was a harsh reality to accept.

Azula was hungry, cold, dirty, and sweaty. Anger and frustration gnawed at her.

"..." She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms, drawing blood. Any physical pain seemed preferable to the emotional turmoil that consumed her. She raised her hands, ready to unleash her signature lightning attack.

She needed to destroy something.

Rising from the ground, she assumed the practiced stance she had rehearsed countless times since the age of five. Every breath, every movement, executed with meticulous precision, delivered a tingling sensation that coursed throughout her body.

It was only in moments like these that she could momentarily forget her troubles by releasing one of her most potent abilities.

She spread her fingers, ready to shoot.

Yet nothing happened. Azula was stunned when her attempt to unleash a lightning bolt failed. She repeated the stance and exercise, prepared to try again.

Again, nothing happened.

Desperation began to consume her. The girl threw punches and kicks, hoping to conjure even the tiniest spark of that distinctive blue fire that had set her apart back home. But all her efforts were in vain, not a flicker of flame emerged.

In silence, Azula let herself collapse and curled into a ball, hugging her legs close. Her shoulders shook, and tears welled up in her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. She was determined not to cry, not to reveal her vulnerability.

That night felt endless, and sleep remained elusive.

…..

Several more days had to pass until she finally reached a city.

She hadn't eaten for days, and it was only a day ago that she crossed a river to quench her thirst.

Yet her condition continued to deteriorate. She was clad in tattered remnants of her once-proud armor, now reduced to a torn red shirt that left one of her shoulders exposed, pants adorned with dented metal plates, and bare feet. Malnutrition had stripped away her muscle mass, rendering her increasingly gaunt. Her pants had to be secured with a makeshift cloth belt, and her ribs protruded through her skin. It had only taken two weeks for her to feel utterly destroyed.

Her hair was a tangled mess; she had made no attempt to restore it after her father had cruelly torn a portion from her crown. It obscured her face, casting shadows over her eyes. Her current condition was no different from that of a homeless woman, which filled her with a sense of sickness.

Not long ago, she had been a princess with a retinue of attendants to cater to her every whim. There were ten maids in her personal group who would attend to her morning routine, from foot baths to nail grooming, hair washing, and facial care.

All of that was now reduced to a distant memory.

Hungry and shivering in the cold, Azula slumped against a wall, oblivious to the countless people bustling through the streets. Each person was immersed in their own daily tasks, encapsulated in the bubbles of their lives.

She found herself on the edge of the Earth Kingdom, a considerable distance from the Fire Nation. Whether that was a fortunate or unfortunate circumstance was hard to discern.

What was the difference anyway?

If soldiers from her nation or the Earth Kingdom found her and recognized her as the Fire Nation princess, it would spell her certain death. They wouldn't hesitate to kill her.

Death... Was it the worst option now?

Azula contemplated why she shouldn't jump off a cliff or use a knife to end her own life. She pondered whether this was the bleak existence that awaited her.

Her trance was disrupted when she felt something touch her hands. Confused, she looked up and saw a seven-year-old boy who left something in her hands with a smile. The boy returned to his mother, who waited with a bright smile, and they soon disappeared into the crowd.

For several seconds, the princess remained silent before opening her hands to reveal several copper coins. Her expression darkened, and she discarded the coins onto the street. Several onlookers gave her disapproving looks for this act.

"She threw away that boy's money."

"She's heartless."

"No, she's clearly troubled."

Yet Azula's fury was too consuming to notice the judgmental glances surrounding her.

She had no use for pity, no need for the charity of a young boy and his mother seeking to perform a random act of kindness for a destitute woman.

No, she needed no one's pity. If she desired food, she would procure it. If she required money, she would take it. In her fury, the princess rose and continued her journey, feeling repulsed by the looks people cast her way.

"Poor thing, it must be horrible"

"Yeah, it looks like she hasn't eaten in days."

"It's a mess, how disgusting"

Azula felt herself encircled by the silhouettes of the people whispering behind her back, each face expressing an array of emotions she loathed: hatred, disdain, disgust. How dare these commoners? If they only knew who she truly was.

If I could... I'd burn them all.

Gradually, the firebender distanced herself from the crowd, weaving her way between the buildings and venturing into the shadowy alleyways. Azula walked with a slow and unsteady gait, pausing when she was struck by a sharp pain in her abdomen. Lowering her gaze, she cradled her right hand over her midsection.

Blood.

Stains adorned her clothing, confirming that it was indeed one of those monthly days. How 'perfect'—nothing quite like dealing with the inconvenience of bleeding between her legs, coupled with the abdominal discomfort.

Her mood was already dismal, and now, faced with the arrival of her period, it plummeted even further.

Nonetheless, she stood tall as she noticed the movement of figures emerging from the alley's corners.

"Just look at it... some trash from the Fire Nation."

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