-- Azula awoke in shock. Her skin was damp with cold sweat. Her manic eyes darted in all directions, seeing nothing but the now familiar darkness of her iron cell. It was an abyss of shadow, the only light emerging from an artificial source in the ceiling during daylight hours to reveal the cold sterility of her surroundings.
She sat up on her bunk, her steel yokes and roughhewn garments chaffing her shivering skin. She curled into a fetal position, nuzzling her kneecaps with her chin, desperately trying to conserve heat in the flesh slicing cold of her prison. She bit her lip and shivered from more than just the cold. She didn't want to remember what she had seen in her last days on Fire Nation soil. She wanted only to remember the faces of the ones she had the nearest facsimile of love for. Even the once tormenting visions of her tender, sweet mother would have been welcomed instead of the apparitions that now haunted her; the tall, ghostly forms of men in grey robes, bearing only blank metal faces full of questions and queries that she could not remember the next morning. She wanted only to remember the faces of Ty Lee, Mai...Zuko—though she was now beginning to forget what they looked like.
Above all, she wanted desperately for one of them, any of them, to deliver her from this—what did they call it? Helheim?--
This and more is in store in the next installment of.