Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mai - 1909, São Laivo

Mai sprinted over the darkening city rooftops, heart thundering in her chest. She leapt across the cobblestone street far below, sparing a quick glance for the fleeing woman. Hopefully she did the sensible thing and ran as fast and as far as she could. That would make her easier to find. And she wouldn’t be able to hide in any occupied house at this hour. The townsfolk were more or less ignorant but they weren’t completely stupid. She’d get no help from them. Ty Lee was on the ground but the way the streets wound and twisted it would be a miracle if the two of them found her before the sun fell below the horizon. And that would be it. 50 years thrown away because someone else had a moment of compassion. Half a century of perfect service.

Oh she could just kill Ty Lee for this… but she’d be joining her in an hour either way.

Even as blatant as the masters presence was in this town, no kindred she had ever met was forgiving when it came to the Masquerade. Let alone the Sabbat. Let alone the Lasombra. She wrestled genuine panic down in her chest. Her younger self would have thought her terror pathetic -she would have found a lot of things about you pathetic- but that bravery was born of ignorance, not wisdom.

So Mai had them doing the only reasonable thing and trying to correct this mess before their mistress awoke. And the rest of the court. The deja vu of covering for Ty Lee’s bleeding heart made her own chest seethe. She was burning through the vitae she’d been so recently gifted in a mad gamble for survival. She wouldn’t get any more for a whole month…

If we don’t die tonight.

Shingles crumpled under her feet as she pushed off the next roof, stealing her speed and dropping her below the level of the roof to slam into the opposite wall with enough force to crack the brick. Something snapped in her wrist and she cursed, clawlike nails threatening to snap as she reflexively scrabbled for purchase. She slid down the wall, landing hard in the alley, upright but at a bad angle. Her entire body rang with the impact, the pounding of her heart slowly forcing the numbness to give way to pain. Breath. Listen. And breath.

Meditation had never been her strong suite. As a girl, boredom always reared its head much too soon for her to find the "inner peace" she'd been promised. Naturally, much too much occupied her mind as she became a young adult... and she didn't have much chance to grow beyond that. These days her thoughts ever-revolved around her mistress and the house to which she belonged. Her own body would betray any attempt to sustain peace of mind: the Mistress' needs came first. She wondered, not for the first time, whether the Mistress could escape her own hunger through meditation. Maybe that's why she spent so much time in repose.

Mai fought to quiet her labored breathing, more from pain than true exertion, and tried to listen to the city as her body recovered. Some masters could hear the heartbeat of mice in the sewers or the whispers of ghosts beyond the veil of death. As far as Mai knew, the Mistress was not one of them. And Mai’s own power tended towards the proactive- strength of body, and what little shadow magic her Mistress passed down to her. Not something she often had reason to complain about but in this moment she desperately wished she had better than human hearing.

“Hey! Wait! ” her head snapped up at Ty Lee’s voice, distant but clear. Over the buildings, only a few streets away.

She rose to leap for a handhold to reach the roofs again but her legs screamed in protest and she barely made it off the ground before landing in a heap with a strangled grunt. She cursed under her breath, hobbling forward and struggling to remember how the streets wove together through the pain.

Strained ligaments and frayed muscle knit together, her legs tingling uncomfortably as they were restored. Vampiric vitae transcended bodily functions, to a point; had she not fallen she could have kept up the chase for some time yet before her body tired. The effects of long exposure to vitae, while more prominent for true kindred like her Mistress, also played a roll: and she had been drinking vitae for half a century.

“Please! Stop! It’s not safe! ”

Good. Empathize. Play to your strengths. Get her to stop running.

Her legs still hurt but they seemed to be working properly again, for human hobbling at least. Her wrist was definitely broken. She would work through the pain, she was used to it. If they recovered the cattle before nightfall the masters wouldn’t know of their transgression. Her mistress might be merciful and offer her vitae if she explained... and begged… but just as likely not. Mistress enjoyed twisting the knife whenever she could get away with it, which was often. Her body was aching as much from the rapid dwindling store of vitae in her veins as the fall.

She heard Ty Lee’s voice and the sounds of a second, both hushed. Close. Conspiratorial almost.

Why are you still talking… Ty Lee… KILL HER.

Mai drew shadow around herself before she rounded the corner, pulling a knife from her sleeve in preparation as the two women came into view. Their quarry was older than them, physically anyway, wearing a ragged dress. She looked panicked but more than that, she looked angry.

Almost certainly Choleric. Shame she got away. Zuko would have enjoyed her blood. 

Ideally he would have had the chance to feed about now, the last rays of the sun had left the mountaintops. He would have been awake for at least a few minutes. Sometimes he took evening strolls... It would be embarrassing but harmless if he discovered them. And then he could have fixed the problem for them. Any of the other masters…

They wouldn’t notice a missing mortal, the logistics of food was servant work, but they would certainly notice them returning with an escapee. Or worse, letting a mortal escape entirely. That would call into question their ability to protect the Masquerade. There'd be no trial. At best, it would be a death sentence-

How does Ty Lee not understand this?

Mai knew, of course. Ty Lee was, and had always been, a terrible fit for this life. She cared too much, even after all these years. When she was younger Mai had understood… or at least cared to empathize. Now she was just frustrated.

Mai was still a few carriage lengths away when she saw the flicker of something in the mortal’s hand. Something sharp. Mai’s knife covered the distance in an instant, sprouting from the woman’s throat before she could so much as turn. Not fast enough. Ty Lee staggered back as the woman collapsed, a hand flying to her mouth in shock… Only after a moment and a step toward the twitching body did she notice the sharp spike of metal in her own chest.

Mai lunged forward the last few strides to brace her as Ty Lee toppled over, “What the hell were you thinking? ”

“She had children-”

"Bullshit-", of course, always the first excuse.

“What about me? What about us? She’s gone now. If she did have children, they'll grow up, get old, and die in the blink of an eye. We’ve been together through all of this, just-” She took a deep breath, bottling up all that anger like she always did, “Get ready to heal and I’ll pull this out.”

Ty Lee was hiccuping, chest spasming, little frothy red bubbles at her lips, “I can’t- Zula didn’t have time- was supposed to tonight-”

Mai cursed.

She hefted Ty Lee in her arms, gritting her teeth at the awful grinding in her wrist.

“Wh-what are y-you doing?”

“We’re getting you to the Mistress, she'll fix you.”

“The other m-masters will be there- they’ll k-kill you if you make a-a scene- The Cardinal-”

“Well you should have thought of that before you let the cattle escape.”

She refused to look at Ty Lee’s face but she could hear the plaintive note her whimpers took on. She hurried as fast as she could but it was all she could do to just hold Ty Lee steady as she staggered up the street. The vitae should have made this child's play, but she was so tired. And her legs still hurt. And she was so afraid of losing Ty Lee that she would probably have had a heart attack if her body was as old as it was supposed to be.

To her great embarrassment she actually fumbled her knife when they rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a man. Which was just as well, she never wanted want to hurt this particular man.

“Mai!”

Mai sagged in relief, letting Zuko take Ty Lee’s weight and gently set her down.

“She needs vitae, Master Zuko.”

As she knew he would, Zuko didn’t hesitate as he snatched up Mai’s knife and drew it over his arm. The unfocused look in Ty Lee’s eyes vanished as the scent of vitae filled the alley. Mai felt her world shrink to the line of black liquid before the other ghoul lunged onto it. Zuko had to repeat himself to be heard as she struggled to remember her own name.

“Mai. How did this happen?”

She blinked, refocusing and twisting the truth as easily as breathing, “A new arrival in town. They won’t be a problem anymore.”

He glared for a second but nodded, “Good.” In a tone that said he was expecting the full story when they were somewhere more discrete.

Ty Lee made a low moan that had nothing to do with pain and Zuko frowned as he withdrew his arm, “That’s enough. Be ready: you need to close the wound.”

She whimpered but nodded, gritting her teeth as he gripped the metal and began to slowly draw it out. Mai watched closely as the edges of the puncture knit together in its wake. Ty Lee shuddered as it slid free, turning to hack up gritty remnants of blood, spitting on the street and gasping for air.

Mai drew her into a tight embrace Ty Lee eagerly responded to, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Next time, you strike first. You hear me?”

She felt Ty Lee nod weakly against her shoulder and fought against the tears welling in her eyes. They held each other for a long moment before Zuko prompted them to rise, his tone businesslike even as his eyes searched keenly for any observers.

“On me girls.”

“Yes Sir.””Yes Sir.”

They were close to the mansion now, they needed to fade as far into the background as two people covered in blood could. In a house full of kindred. She kept close to Zuko, trying to keep her steps as much in lockstep with Ty Lee as she could. Ty Lee, of course, tried to stagger her steps.

“Knock it off.”

“Stop matching me.”

“You know they like it when we blend in.”

“But-”

“ShSH. I don’t want to hear it. Not now.”

Her tone brought an end to the familiar argument just as they left the town, walking the familiar road up to the mansion. It stood at the top of the hill, expanding from the church that had been built centuries ago. Mai often wondered what the original masons would have thought of their church becoming the lair of a Lasombra. Her conclusions usually drifted between sympathy and derision, depending on how recently she’d fed from her mistress and how close to human she felt. Tonight she felt painfully human but she couldn’t muster up much sympathy for the dead or their sanctity. She gave Ty Lee a final warning look as the doors opened for them, willing the girl to play along with whatever met them inside.

She needn’t have worried.

“Zuko?” Ty Lee’s face lit up, her pupils dilating slightly as she caught sight of the speaker. Mai resisted for a fraction of a second longer but reluctantly turned to face the new arrival, deeply resentful of the fluttering that seized her heart. Mistress descended the stairs into the foyer, expression curious but controlled, her black dress pooled around and behind her on the steps like liquid night, “Has something happened?”

“The girls were accosted in the city.”

“Oh how terrible…” Her tone was a bizarre but familiar mix of faux-concern and faux-amusement, her perfect lips quirked in mild interest. If it weren’t for the sharp movement of her eyes over Ty Lee and the bloody hole in her dress, Mai would have believed she didn’t care at all. Knowing her for more than half a century helped. 

She tilted her head to Mai, “I hope the transgressors were captured alive?”

“I’m afraid not, Mistress.”

“Tsk tsk. Oh well, next time." Her eyes flicked over her once, up and down, before turning to Zuko, "Come brother, I need your opinion on my outfit for the Blood Feast.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, “Just wear the black one, that’s what you always do anyway.”

The whole charade was at once painful to be a part of and a joy to fall back into. It was all fake, a meaningless smokescreen, but it was everything she had hoped for: salvation in a suit and dress. Mai was nearly overwhelmed by the visceral relief that imminent death no longer loomed over her. If it didn't happen fairly often she might have been surprised just how frightened she was of losing any part of her existence, twisted as it had become. She'd never considered herself an overly moral or even particularly good person, but she had just killed a woman more or less by reflex. And she'd do it again if it meant preserving her tiny sphere of loved ones.

At one time it would have horrified her, from before the supernatural had become her daily existence. In some ways it still did- she was over pretending to be over it. But losing sleep over atrocities, both her own and others, was just another part of her life. If it came with continued existence, she'd accept it and be grateful it hadn't gotten any worse.

Her heart continued to dance in her chest as she followed their saviors, Ty Lee suddenly happy to play along. Then she made the mistake of looking up.

Her heart stopped as she met the obsidian-black eyes of Cardinal Ozai, watching from the balcony. He looked as disgusted as he always did, the frown somehow deepening as he met her eyes. The blood bond of the Vaulderie held her spellbound, her steps and heart slowing, frozen in the gaze of a predator.

"Don't dawdle Mai." The sharp voice of her mistress cut through the haze and Mai's head snapped down and her heart restarted, surging frantically in her chest as she fell back in line, "Apologies Mistress."

They weren’t safe yet. In a place like this, they never would be again.

Contrary to their facade in the entry hall, the second they made it to the doors of the sibling’s bedrooms they separated without a word. Ty Lee meekly followed Mistress like a lovesick puppy while Mai allowed Zuko to usher her into his room. He turned to her, his public mask of neutrality giving way to concern as he locked the door and silently performed a sweep of the room before turning to her.

“Are you alright?”

She thought about her broken wrist. About how she could probably make him feed her vitae if she played up the injury. About how much she wanted him to feed her. How much she wanted to taste him. Please just give me a taste. I need it. I NEED IT-

“I’ll be fine, sir.”

He gave her an annoyed look, “Alright: So what actually happened? Miss.”

They glared at each other until a smile crept onto their faces and Mai felt herself start to finally properly relax. Aches and pains in her legs flared, her chest prickled with every breath, all overshadowed by the throbbing pain in her arm. There wasn’t enough vitae left in her to will the bone to mend- not quickly at any rate. The traces of it in her blood would knit the break together in time, if she was careful and patient. She was already damn tired for this early in the night, she still had to balance the checkbooks of the last food shipment. Ty Lee couldn’t do it and she didn’t trust any of the other servants not to get them all killed.

"I missed you."

She envied his quiet composure as he said the words. By contrast, in spite of her best efforts, she flushed at his words, "And I you." She idly hoped she could blame being a lovesick fool on the Vaulderie... and just as much she hoped not. 

She shifted her weight and her leg buckled without warning. Zuko was across the room and at her side before she even saw him move, quite literally in an instant, easily maneuvering her to a seat.

“Sit. Rest. You’re exhausted.”

She begrudgingly settled in as he puttered around her, making tea. He'd always made for a poor nobleman she thought fondly, “Ty Lee thought she should try and save one of the herd who had a convincingly tragic life story. So I explained how dead we would be if she survived... and we gave chase.”

Zuko winced, glancing back at the door like he was considering intervening on the other ghoul's behalf.

“Don’t you dare. Whatever Mistress does to her, she has it coming.”

He frowned reproachfully and she held his gaze, “And it’s Ty Lee. She’ll probably get a slap on the wrist and a bath. I don’t know if you’ve paid attention but the mistress holds her like a porcelain doll after-” She made an all-encompassing wave around them, accepting the tea with her good hand, “I hope she’s harsh. Tonight was too close, she nearly got us both killed. I feel like I’m the only one telling her what she needs to hear.” 

Zuko had knelt to hand her the teacup, but stayed at her side, his hand tracing up her arm, “It’s… hard to treat her kindness like something that needs fixing. Like stamping out the hearth in a cold winter, it feels wrong. With all of the scheming and the... compromises we have to make... with Ty Lee we keep our moral grounding. She’s a lighthouse on a dark sea.”

Mai rolled her eyes, a thousand scenes of brutality and violence flashing through her mind, “Oh, very profound: That just means everything in the dark with us can see her." She sipped the tea, soothing warmth leaving her body disappointed as it ever was with drinking anything but what she needed- please please please- She set the cup down with a hard clack of ceramic on tile, stooping to his use of simile as she continued, "Would you rather her ‘light’ be dimmed or snuffed out?”

The wood of the chair creaked as Zuko’s grip on it tightened but the hand on her arm was featherlight as it stroked her skin. Goosebumps spread from his touch and her eyes closed in spite of herself. Her blood didn’t sing quite like it did when Mistress touched her but Zuko made her spirit hum. It had been confusing, and frustrating, to differentiate the feeling when she was younger. She was confident she knew herself now, enough to understood the subtleties that separated genuine love from the obsession of the blood bond.

It helped that the difference between the siblings was night and day. Mistress touched to control, to make her dance on the strings she’d bound her with. Fury tinged every vitae-fueled fantasy she’d ever had, it made it easier to recognize the addiction for what it was. Zuko touched to experience, to know her body and soul…

Unraveling the horror of the vinculum, the blood bond that united the Sabbat as a sect, was a much more all-consuming struggle. She'd grown increasingly distrustful of her emotions and judgements in recent decades, to the point she dreaded any interaction beyond the four of them. In a darkly twisted way it was a relief that Mistress was so demanding and possessive, it left little room for other kindred to take advantage of her or Ty Lee. Zuko had less say but was also a blessing, when his roll in the Coven allowed for them to spend time together.

Too late did she realize why her thoughts had drifted as he stilled. His hand rested over the exact spot of her neck she had been fed from the night before.

There were no marks, feeding left none unless the kindred wanted to, but somehow he knew. Her eyes opened to find his close, the room seeming to collapse in so it was only him and her. His golden gaze was hard and she struggled not to blush any more than she already had been from his proximity. Embarrassment and shame coiled up in her throat and the burn of her cheeks told her she failed miserably. Why should she feel embarrassed? The feeding hadn’t been her choice. And it had felt so good…

“Who.”

“...Mistress.”

He relaxed fractionally but his gaze didn’t waver, only narrowing in confusion. She felt disgusted with herself as the fire in his eyes made her heart race.

“Why would she- Has Azula been hurting you?”

Mai scoffed, her voice mercifully deadpan, “All the time. You know Mistress as well as I do, she thrives on it.”

His eyes darkened, “I thought she was better. How long?”

“The feeding? On and off." He held her gaze and her mouth betrayed her, "Since the beginning, more or less. I used to be... eager, and Mistress-"

"Mai." He interrupted, expression frustrated, "We're alone."

"...she prefers me to call her Mistress."

He sighed, "Try. For me?"

"... She... used it as a reward. Feeding was, is, euphoria. Both ways. Once I started to understand the blood bond things became less... pleasant." Zuko's eyes widened as she spoke, and she fought not to try and justify the Mistress' actions. He was rightfully concerned. Mutual feeding was practically the definition of self destructive hedonism: all parties lost.  "She is kinder than when she was human. But she also knows we can’t run away anymore.” Her heart palpitated, meaningless emotions warring inside her. Betrayal. Shame. She clenched her jaw. The feelings aren't real. Just side effects of the blood bond.

They were silent for a moment before he scowled, “She shouldn't be feeding from a ghoul, that doesn't even make sense- Mai I’m so sorry.”

She pulled her hand away, setting down her tea, “I’ll live. I just hate being so…” A hint of the emotion she felt finally edged into her tone, “I need her Zuko. I don’t want to need her.”

Zuko winced, “I understand.”

Do you? An old argument sprung to her lips, weeks of careful planning scrambling to adjust as she spoke up, “It doesn’t have to be that way... it could be you.”

He shifted, discomfort written across his face, “Mai... We’ve been over this: I don’t want to... do that to you.”

“So you’d let her do it to me?”

“Mai… I can’t-”

“Won’t.”

He glared at her, “Yes. I won’t make you love me. If you do-” “I do.” 

His expression softened as she lifted a hand to stroke his cheek, “-then that should be your choice.”

“It is." She took a deep breath, her real goal running through her mind, "This is as clearheaded as either of us are going to be in the Sabbat: If you won't be my domitor... then elevate me.”

A flicker of something like fear crossed his face before it settled into resignation, “I can’t do that either.”

“Why? You aren't Lasombra, you and Mis... M...” She struggled, her mouth refusing to say the name. Her jaw worked soundlessly until she focused back on his golden eyes and she forced the name out, "-Azula... and Ty Lee, the three of you are all I have left. Maybe you could convince the Cardinal that I could-"

“Absolutely not."

"...you could try."

He looked at her levelly, even more serious than usual, "Mai there are days I think the only reason I'm still alive is because he forgets I exist when I'm not in his line of sight." Logically she knew there was no love lost between Zuko and Ozai but her stomach dropped to hear it put into words, "If anyone can convince him to 'elevate' you it would be Azula, but he's traditional... If she convinced him I think it's more likely he'd have you and Ty Lee fight to the death before he even considered turning the survivor." The image was horrible... but not entirely surprising, given all she'd seen. With how active Zuko had been of late -She'd barely seen him all year- some part of her had hoped he'd mustered some good will with the elder Lasombra. "And without his permission... our only real option is to try and hold out to transition to another sect. Or hope he forgets about us entirely. Not likely, with his favorite childer being my sister."

Hearing the conclusion laid bare -blood feasts, bodies hanging, razors, teeth, laughing- made her want to cry. Of course it was inevitable, she'd just let herself hope... Instead she gripped his hand, her voice less steady and more pleading than she ever wanted to hear coming out of her mouth, “Ty Lee and I need to be kindred if we’re going to survive much longer. By the laws of the Sabbat we’re as expendable as a washcloth. If either of us meets the Cardinal in a foul mood he has every right to kill us on a whim. Something... something HAS to change.”

He'd closed his eyes listening to her plea, gently stroking her hand even as she held his tightly. When his eyes opened, gold and brilliant in the flicker of candlelight, a long string of emotions whirled over his face. To most they'd be unnoticeable, subtle movements of a living face. That he retained them now made it all the more endearing, little tics she knew he had no control over. Fear. Anger. Panic. Determination. She loved him. He’d be safer if he could just learn to hide his feelings... but she wouldn’t change him for anything. Stupid. Maybe this was why the siblings didn’t lift a finger to cure Ty Lee of her naivety.

“...You’re right.”

She blinked, totally caught off guard at his sudden agreement. She had desperately wanted to make him understand… and yet… Mai didn’t like the look in his eyes. She recognized it, even if she hadn't seen it in a long time. It was a dangerous look. It usually preceded him doing something incredibly stupid.

He gestured to the bed, “Stay and get some sleep. I’ll be out for a few nights, I'll try and be back quickly. A week at the most.”

“What?” She was still reeling from his sudden change of heart.

“The Cardinal is sending me out to pick up an unwanted guest in our waters, or so I'm told. I’ll be sailing out with Carlos as soon as I make it to the docks. I’m already fashionably late-”

She leaned forward, “Zuko, what are you going to do?”

“Just a quick bit of piracy, par for the-”

“No, what you said before- what are you going to do?”

He smiled reassuringly back from the door and it had the complete opposite effect.

“I’ll let you know when I do. Rest.”

He shut the door and her stomach twisted in knots.

Suddenly any change to the status quo seemed all the more frightening. She hadn't been lying, they couldn't keep this up forever: one of them would end up dead for something minor and avoidable, if only for the irritation of an elder. But she had no idea what should, or even could, replace the balancing act they'd settled into. And if she didn't know she expected Zuko wouldn't be any better off. Mistress might have plans -she always did- but Zuko...?

She dropped her head back on the chair, sighing as her aches and pains returned in full. I should have shut up and played victim for vitae. I can still catch him, he can still feed me, there’s time - She clenched her bad hand into a fist, focusing on the pain. It wasn’t hard. Without Zuko to consume her attention it was like every injury was revisited on her twofold.

Had it been like that when he was alive? She had loved him, she'd realized that when he'd "died"- but she doubted he could make her forget about a broken wrist. She groaned.

Oh what is that idiot going to get himself into.

Azula

Azula ran her hands through Ty Lee’s hair, gently scrubbing the soap into her scalp. The braids had blood in them and it was driving her wild. She had to get it out before any other kindred noticed. The choker her ghoul wore emblazoned with their crest only worked to deter clear-minded kindred, and there were shockingly few of those around. If some degenerate lost control of their beast for even a moment- she scrubbed harder.

“...I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

“I am.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“Hm.”

“Mai is mad at me.”

“Hm.”

“She’s mad because she’s worried about me. I don’t want her to worry. I’m fine-”

Azula grabbed Ty Lee by the shoulder and spun her around to face her, the water of the bath sloshing as she squeaked in surprise. Ty Lee’s cheeks colored but she made no move to cover up or pull away as Azula took her in. Perfect. She put her palm over the fresh pink scar on Ty Lee’s chest. It should have been a perfect fix, vitae didn’t "heal" so much as it "unmade" wounds. Which meant the flesh had had enough time to set before the vitae had been able to do its work.

“If that had been just a little lower, you would be dead.”

Ty Lee slid her hand over Azula’s cold fingers, “I’m sorry.”

“I thought I lost you once.” Ty Lee tilted her head in confusion, then her face twisted in pain as Azula continued, “You and Mai. Zuko was actually dead, of course. Which… hurt. Much more than I’d expected... but when you and Mai left-”

“It wasn’t our choice! The Cardinal made us-”

“I know. I know. I don’t blame you.” Azula stroked her hair, watching the girls eyes tear up and feeling Ty Lee’s fingers tighten over hers, “I couldn’t blame you even if you left of your own free will. I was always a poor excuse for a friend.”

Ty Lee shook her head but didn’t interrupt again, wide earnest eyes shining with unshed tears. Azula almost felt bad. She moved her hand in slow circles over the new scar, continuing after a quiet moment.

“But that was the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

Tears spilled down Ty Lee’s face and she sniffled, voice squeaky, “I won’t leave again. Not ever.”

She gently leaned her head against Ty Lee’s, stroking her hair, “I know you wouldn’t on purpose.” She kissed the tears away, “Which is why-”

Azula would never admit she was surprised when Ty Lee lunged forward, grabbing her neck and mashing their lips together. But she was. 

She should stop her. Even here, alone, there should be boundaries between... the many things they were to one another. But Ty Lee was pressed up against her, her skin hot and her lips hungry. Stop. She stood and Ty Lee followed her, water cascading off her from the bath. Stop. Azula’s hands slid over her, beautiful gasps her reward, and she carried her to the bed. Stop. She dropped her on the soft sheets, desperate hands dragging her down after.

She had more control than this. She was better than this.

She nipped at her neck and Ty Lee moaned, arching under her, head thrown back in invitation. Mine. She’d just lost a fair bit of blood, it wouldn’t be responsible to feed on her. It wouldn’t be at all efficient, ghouls shouldn’t be fed on unless it was to make a point. But there was the issue of Zuko’s vitae coursing through her- she could spare some of her own. Mine. She could hardly allow another kindred to hold a connection to her ghoul, even if it was Zuko.

She bit down and Ty Lee squealed. Mine.

A knock at the door. Azula pulled back, weighing the options that presented themselves in her mind's eye for how best to murder whoever was on the other side of that door. Ty Lee looked like she’d already picked one as her head snapped around, eyes hot with fury. The emotion was alien on her face, Azula couldn't decide if she loved it or hated it.

“Who is it?” Azula called calmly, planting soothing kisses on her ghoul’s neck and sealing her teeth marks.

“Cardinal Ozai requests your presence, Señora.” Ty Lee froze and Azula pouted.

“Thank you, I’ll be there momentarily.”

“He requests your presence now, Señora.”

Azula looked back to Ty Lee, who paled.

Stay here, rest. She mouthed, hastily tucking her in through her wordless protests. She planted a much more chaste kiss on her hair that lingered, withdrawing and not daring to look back; Even with the implicit urgency of her sire's summons it was a struggle to step away from the bed and what it held.  She reached the door as the knock sounded again and she stepped into the wood. Abyssal shadow swept over her and she emerged hand first to grip the startled servant by the cravat. She wore an easy smile but didn’t bother making it reach her eyes, “You should not rush a lady, good sir.”

On another night she probably would have been less lenient but she didn’t want to put any murderous thoughts in Ozai’s head. Confident though she was that she had her sire's favor, she knew as well as any Lasombra that she had many things that could be taken from her. Whether for punishments or even as some kind of horrific gift. She set the servant down and straightened his coat before marching him down the hallway, “Let us see what the Cardinal wishes.”

Ty Lee

She listened to the receding footsteps, smirking at the second set scrabbling as if it was being dragged across the floor, quickly muffled behind the thick door. Her chest twinged. Everything else twinged. She took a shaky breath.

"AA-" She finished the scream into Azula's pillow.

She had just been stabbed, healed, and bitten... and she had never felt this electrified in her entire life. Every nerve buzzed, every muscle shivered. Her heart ached with longing, suddenly bereft of the closeness of her mistress. Her blood pounded in her veins like it desperately wanted to be taken. Her skin buzzed and rasped harshly against the smooth sheets, every sensation unwanted but the touch she craved.

This wasn't the first time she had been intimate with Azula -or even the first time they'd been rudely interrupted- but in this moment she would have done anything for Azula to return and finish what she'd started.

It was a silly, selfish wish. If Azula had stayed it would have probably gotten them all killed: they needed to stay in the good graces of the Cardinal. Or else he'd get rid of them. She shuddered, cringing at the thought of anyone discarding Azula or Zuko like that-

Even before all this the siblings were special; Zuko was brave and strong but gentle and Ty Lee remembered thinking Azula was the most beautiful, talented girl she'd ever seen. Most of her early memories, the ones that remained anyway, were of the four of them playing out larger-than-life games in their estate. Japan felt like a half forgotten dream now. Ty Lee's father had great ambitions for their family under the Shogunate, and intended to put every one of his seven daughters in a position to marry up. On the rare occasions Ty Lee spoke with, or even heard from, her father he always inquired on her relationship with Zuko.

She couldn't remember if it had been petty spite for her father or genuine interest in the other girl that had driven her to hover at Azula's side over her brothers. And that had just become the way things were. It wasn't that she didn't find Zuko attractive, she certainly did now, but he'd never shown much interest in her beyond being his sisters friend. Her birth family faded from her awareness over the years, as she'd grown inseparable from Azula and Mai. Zuko had been pulled into more trainings and travels, being a boy and his uncle's heir, but she'd grown fond of him too. The elder Lord had been very kind to her and given her opportunity to indulge her acrobatic tendencies. Mai's family had been much more present, and happy, that their only daughter was growing close with the heir to the estate.

Maybe it was thinking back on their shared history, maybe it was Zuko's vitae running through her body, or maybe it was the still-simmering frustration of her desires, but the image of both siblings watching her with their golden eyes- holding her, kissing her, playing with her-

"URGH."

Whatever peace of mind she'd found in drifting into memory was gone. She couldn't stay here, couldn't rest, not like this. Not surrounded by her scent. Not with THAT trapped in her mind. She threw off the blanket and leapt up- immediately finding the floor had done the same somehow. Oh. She'd fallen over.

What?

She didn't fall. Ever. Wait... was she forgetting a compulsion? She thought hard, hoping her subconscious would remind her why she was on the floor. Commands were like that sometimes, Azula was a master of the Dominate discipline and she wasn't shy of using it. Ty Lee felt a little betrayed that she would play with her sense of reality without even letting her remember- Not like it would be the first time she'd been on the receiving end of Dominate- and not the first time from Azula. Not even a hint?

She sat up and the room spun, forcing her back on the floor where the reality of her situation crystalized. Oh. Right. Blood loss. Stupid, fragile body- Her head swam, annoyance at her own slowness and guilt for so quickly questioning Azula coming in waves.

She lay there for a long moments. The bout of lightheadness did little to alleviate her original problem, fuzzy thoughts continuing to veer in unwise directions. The cold tile between the carpets helped at least to ground her as she fought to keep her hands from wandering. She'd been down that path before: it would just make things worse until Azula returned. Maybe she'd be pleased to see me ready for her- Nonono bad bad bad. Anything could be happening out there, she had to at least have some wits about her.

What if Azula needed her?

The thought was the most sobering one she'd had so far and she took a shuddering breath. Focus. Azula had been unexpectedly called by the Cardinal... that couldn't be good, could it? Anxiety began to replace the arousal in her veins. If it really were bad what would you do anyway? A half-dead mortal servant kept past her expiration date by the good grace of her lover? You'd be less than useless to her. Her blood curdled. She spread her hands out flat over the floor, letting the cold seep into her skin. Her hand grazed the clothes she'd discarded for the bath. She dug through the pile for a moment, pulling out the black choker with Azula's mark, untarnished by the evenings struggles.

Stay here. Rest.

She fastened the band back around her neck, crawling back into bed, and pulling the covers back over herself. Rest. Ty Lee closed her eyes.

Azula

The long subterranean hall, the Cardinal's 'throne room' as Ty Lee called it, was thick with rivers of shadow. Ten tiny specks of guttering light struggled in the inky blackness, the candles fighting against the flowing dark itself in the oppressively still air of the room. It was a visually impressive display of Obtenebration... and more than a bit excessive in Azula's opinion. She'd long since mastered 'vision' by sensing the current and flow of the abyss within all shadows, thought the churning dark made taking in the predominantly empty room more trouble than it was worth. The only reason to include the candles at all was to show the flames struggling for life. Intimidation then. She closed her eyes.

“I did not sire you to watch you cavort with cattle.“

Directly to the point, as usual. It didn’t leave her much room to maneuver. She stalled for time to get her bearings, bowing, “My apologies, I did not realize my activities had displeased you, your Eminence.”

”They displease me when they interrupt my childers contemplations on their study of the Path of Night."

Ah, a perfect opportunity, "With all due respect Eminence, the dogma of the Path of Night has not been worth my time for some time."

She couldn't make out the Cardinal's expression, but she chose to interpret the sudden extinguishing of the room's candles as one of surprise, "Explain yourself."

Now comes the real gamble- "The moral and ethical frameworks of others should exist as latices to be built upon and learned from, not as boundaries or roads themselves. The Paths of Enlightenment are traps for those with lesser ambitions. True power and enlightenment come from observing what is and bending it to serve ones goals, not vice versa. But I believe that is why you brought me that fool Andrés as an instructor: A cautionary tale."

Umbra coiled around her, her awareness overwhelmed by Ozai's presence even as his physical location in the room blurred. The shadow in this room was fully in the control of another- she didn't move a muscle. The silence had physical weight as it stretched, smothering her like tons of earth.

"Bold, Azula. Very bold. And if you believe the Path of Night beneath you, what am I to do with you?"

"Teach me the truths of Abyssal Mysticism, as you've not so subtly dangled before me. I have spent long nights understanding the minutiae of the Path of Night, as much as can be learnt without practicing in the field. I promise not to let religiosity go to my head like poor Andrés, now may I please move on to 'contemplations' of true power?"

"Other Lasombra would do a great many terrible things to you for your hubris."

"Then it is my great relief to serve the Cardinal Ozai of São Laivo, and not those other Lasombra."

A cold laugh broke the silence, the abyssal dark of the room settling enough for her to feel the Cardinal clearly for the first time since she'd entered the room, "Flattery Azula, really?" She opened her eyes, for all the good it did, waiting patiently as he regarded her in silence, "I will consider your request. Entertaining as your little speech has been, you do not make demands of me."

Azula bowed her head respectfully as he continued, "Your tutelage aside, what is the state of our forces in the north?”

”There have been no new developments your eminence, I deemed it unnecessary to intrude on your person with an empty report.”

”Nothing at all? I find that difficult to believe. Surely the church has presented resistance to your agents?”

”Not at all your Eminence, the church has proven most welcoming to our agents. I have personally ensured nothing has been, or will be, out of the ordinary, save for the unfortunate loss of several Faithful priests to an unfortunate bout of pestilence. They’ve already been replaced by members devoted to us.”

Ozai raised an eyebrow, “Ghouls?”

”Converts. Swayed by trifling displays of power and a modest stipend. Less attrition on our forces sustaining tiresome blood bonds and more easily disavowed should the need arise.“

“What of the wolves?”

”They continue to make travel through the jungle… complicated. A capable Lasombra is needed to quickly move through contested territory without incurring unacceptable losses. But so far they pose little risk to our presence within the cities themselves.“

”Don't be so sure. Underestimating the garou is one of the most common last mistakes fledglings make.“

”Then it’s a good thing I am no fledgling.”

”Hm. Indeed.” He studied her, the small twist of his lips in what might be a pleased smile still left his eyes cruel. Even now in pitch darkness, they were voids darker than the rest of the room, like gateways to the Abyss itself, “A strong show of strength, Azula. I hope your ability continues to match your confidence... and that you aren't letting a familiar lattice hold you back. It would be a shame for the les Amies Noires and, yes, the practitioners of the Abyss to lose such a... promising asset.”

Azula didn’t blink, “Will that be all, Your Eminence?”

He narrowed his eyes, searching her expression for something that wasn’t there, “...yes. You may go.”

She bowed her head and turned on her heel.

Chapter Text

Zuko - 1909, São Laivo

Zuko’s steps were light as he made his way across the city, buoyed by genuine excitement for the first time in decades- as well as a healthy dose of celerity: he really was quite late. He had the beginnings of a plan, and with plans came the hope of them succeeding… and maybe he could finally give Mai some fraction of what she deserved. The details were fuzzy, the ever-present vaulderie made even entertaining such thoughts complicated, but he'd make it work. He had to. Because Mai was right, he and Azula were their only chance of escaping a death sentence in all but name.

It always pleased him to give Mai something she wanted- or, hell, even just to surprise her at this point with something that wasn’t more horror- but his hands were shackled by expectation and dogma. Ghouls were not highly regarded in the Sabbat, especially not by the Lasombra. Some days it was all he could do to just distract some ancillae vampire from taking too much of an interest in something that belonged to… taking too much interest in something that he cared about.

These nights it was difficult to even make time for their relationship, the bare minimum dangerously close to falling out of reach. Romantic gestures were never his strong suit. She wasn’t much for flowers, though he had a feeling she’d appreciate the gesture more if he tried it now. Maybe he’d pick her up some on the return trip. Hopefully all went according to plan and he wasn’t shot half to pieces like the last time he’d been in the field. Rather bizarrely they’d held their relationship at nearly the same stage since before his embrace- he chose to see it as a good sign and not the endlessly frustrating stagnation it sometimes felt like.

He had not been ready to propose marriage when they’d last met as mortals, though it had been on his mind… to his pleasure, and relief, the extra time had served to sharpen rather than dull his resolve. Marriage itself felt rather quaint after all this time, but they were both sick of sneaking moments out of sight. She deserved a commitment, real and profound, whatever that might be. If it were up to him he would grant her request in a heartbeat… but, of course, it wasn’t. The endless march of time: the young raging against the control of the old. Except now he was forever ‘young’ trapped under the heel of his undying elders. It felt colossally unfair that immortality came at the cost of self determination.

In a way he was guiltily relieved that she had been bound to Azula all those years ago and not him. He knew he'd torture himself endlessly with uncertainty of her feelings for him. It wasn't like it was in question now, after decades of affirmation, and he felt rather pathetic at how her words made his heart soar. “I do.” He grinned, lazily sailing over a street, relaxed and weightless as the world spun around him.

He'd long since adjusted to his kindred existence but pushing the boundaries of celerity remained a true pleasure, it set him apart and even above many of his peers in the Sabbat. There was no surefire way to really protect against imperceivable speed- other than outright magic or true invulnerability. Between celerity and potence he was a force to be reckoned with, and he knew it. So did his beast- the nagging fury and outrage that never quite went away. It was so easy to fall into the mindset of superiority, of a predator among prey, but his own life experience told him that was a deadly trap. It was all well and good starting fights when you were stronger and faster than everything else, right up until you weren't. Fortunately he had his sister to, in her own way, "gently" remind him he was far from the scariest thing in the darkness.

Where Zuko had physical power in spades, Azula excelled in all the esoteric power her bloodline predisposed her to, while still managing to nearly overshadow him in physical strength. Hers was an unsettling power, unpredictable and manipulative. It suited her. Naturally the breadth of her skill included vampiric disciplines. She seemed to succeed at anything she tried her hand at, much as she had in life, even more so now. He had no proof, but he would put money that she somehow managed her talent on purpose. It was utterly infuriating, and much as he tried to quell the petulant rage he couldn't help bitterness souring his thoughts whenever he had too long to dwell.

They were on far better terms now than they'd almost ever been as mortals, or at least since they had been very young. Their mother had encouraged their cooperation and friendship as well as she could but she only had so much say- particularly when their father had diametrically opposed intentions. He had set them against each-other at every opportunity he could manage, something that seemed all the more manipulative in retrospect. In the patriarchal-driven culture they'd grown up in, there was no chance their father could have discarded his eldest son in favor of his daughter. But he'd treated them like they were both on the cusp of succeeding him in her case or being disowned in his, as a means to maintain his control and to both of their detriment.

In a strange way, his death had saved his relationship with his sister. More accurately, the circumstances of his death had let them see beyond the walls they'd built between them. Ozai could easily have killed him outright, or kept him on a tighter leash after having a Brujah turn him, or any one of a million other things to keep them apart. He was lucky, at least in this one regard, that the elder Lasombra hadn't spared him much thought beyond recognizing him as a useful asset and having him turned and inducted into the vaulderie for later use. Other than following the letter of his elder's command, Zuko had been tossed out to figure his transformation out for himself and left more or less free to wander the streets at his own discretion. His feet had led him to familiar paths, almost without him making the conscious decision, and he'd found himself watching the gradual collapse of his family. With every sense and emotion tuned up by his recent turning, it had been harrowing. What finally pushed him into defying his order to remain a bystander was, surprisingly, watching his annoyingly perfect little sister fall to pieces. He'd had a unique perspective on the unraveling, and an up-close look thanks to his proximity.

He shook himself free of the gloom that had descended on him: not tonight. He was in a good mood. And he may as well try to keep it that way as long as he could manage. Happens rarely enough.

He tried to bridge his thoughts out of dark memories, the image of his sister curled up on a rainy street shoved into the recesses of his mind.

He wondered what his life would be like now if he was still mortal? He would be in his late 60's- if his father hadn't encountered a swift end by Ozai's machinations he would almost certainly be dead of natural causes by now. Zuko would be head of the house- or maybe not. His homeland had changed so much, who was to say he wouldn’t have died in some transfer of power?

He rolled his eyes at how quickly the train of thought led back to gloom. Melancholy seemed intrinsic to a kindred's existence and he was sick of it. Other than- ah, that's right: Mai.

Both the decrepit slums of the city and the freshly constructed townhouses blurred together as he soared past. At these speeds he barely touched the ground at all. A soft footfall to adjust direction every few rooftops was all he needed.

Mai might have been wrong that he had any sway with the Cardinal… but he wasn’t truly helpless. Not anymore. He wasn’t sure exactly how just yet- but he would get them out of this. She was worth it.

He set down on a rooftop balcony overlooking the beach, steadying himself as his momentum carried him across the roof in a controlled slide. He braced himself against the railing with a rattle, the view out over the dimmed city backlit by a million stars overhead. It might have been a den of monsters, but São Laivo had its moments. He just wished he could have company to see them-

“Zu-”

His sword was out in a heartbeat, all thoughts of romance gone in an instant as he spun to face the unknown.

“-zu.” Azula gave him an annoyed look, daintily brushing his sword aside as she stepped past him, “Why is everything always so dramatic with you?”

He growled, lowering the weapon, “With m-? Zula I could’ve killed you!”

“Yes. And you should feel bad. But I need you to do something useful while you brood over it.” She handed him a letter, “Do you remember Zahida? The warlock from Caribbean Shores?”

He frowned at the paper in his hand, “...in São Luís? The one who set you on fire?”

“Yes. I need you to get that letter to her.”

“What? Why? ”

She waved her hand dismissively, “I need her insight on something arcane." She smirked over her shoulder, "Don't fret: we worked out our differences." The humor drained away as quickly as it had come, "Expect trouble from the local kindred, the Roses have de facto control of the area so keep your head down, and stay out of the woods, Garou have been more than a little problem- keep to the main island.”

He held out the letter, “Find someone else to do your legwork, I’m busy.”

She didn't even look at him, looking out over the city as if she were actually taking in the view, “So? All you have to do is hand her a piece of paper.”

“São Luís is leagues away from where I’m going.”

“A little detour on the ocean, variety is the spice of life.”

He started away, “Zula I’m already late, I don’t have time for-”

“Just- ” She was suddenly in front of him, shadow bleeding around her as she smoothed his jacket, expression earnest and nearly pleading,  “Please, Zuko. For me?”

That should be laughable. He wants to laugh in her face… but he can’t, “...fine. ”

“Thank you.” She sounded genuine, relieved even.

She stepped back into the shadows, her gleaming golden eyes the last to vanish in the blackness, “Happy hunting big brother.”

Zuko frowned into the darkness until it brightened to the texture of a normal shadow. He sighed, sheathing his sword and continuing to the docks.

Damn politics, ruining my good mood.

Azula

Azula studied Mai’s reflection in the mirror.

She’d hardly changed at all in half a century. It was to be expected of course, given her supply of vitae, but for Mai it went beyond even that. She still wore her hair long and straight, though she'd lost the fukiwa most days. She still dressed plainly -for her heritage. She was easily elegant enough to stand out among any servants she stood with. Still looked like a porcelain doll even after all this time. Azula favored certain styles to be sure, sometimes they lingered for decades, and she rather enjoyed standing at the height of fashion when she deemed the style agreed with her.

But the only shift in Mai’s clothing preferences seemed to be the materials they were made from.

If it were her the monotony would’ve driven her mad- or maybe that was just Ty Lee rubbing off on her. She wondered what it was that held Mai’s fashion in stasis, whether it was an effect of the vitae or some long-held trauma her parents had inflicted on her… maybe it was just some part of herself she had control over. Azula certainly wasn’t about to poke fun at it, she appreciated Mai’s consistency. The idea of Mai ever changing made her… uneasy.

Zuko had once accused her of holding Mai and Ty Lee in thrall as her dolls and, while she had cooly brushed off his hotheaded jab for what it was at the time, the memory sometimes surfaced unbidden. She didn’t appreciate the degrading comparison of holding her friends like some kind of safety blanket, but the visual lingered in her mind nonetheless, and she couldn’t help but be relieved she no longer could dream- who knew what her subconscious would make of it.

All thoughts that lazily passed through Azula’s mind as she allowed it to wander, enjoying the soothing pull of the brush through her hair as she regarded Mai in the reflection.

It blurred ever-so-slightly at the edges, imperceptible to all but the closest scrutiny. Mortal eyes might even disregard it as a trick of the light... but it was definitely there. Interesting . More interesting that she’d never noticed before, perhaps Mai’s prowess was improving.

Unlike most willfully commanded disciplines, obtenebration lingered on the user, whether it was in currently active or not. A stain on the soul, if one were feeling poetic.

In spite of her proximity to the silvered surface, Azula couldn’t see herself in the mirror at all.

It wasn’t that her mirrored self was transparent, exactly. She still took up space in the mirror, even if nobody could see it without looking very closely. A distortion, unnoticeable, save for the wrongness of the abyss staring back at any who looked too deeply. The disappointing reality precluded the obvious, and amusing, use of inwardly mirrored glasses. Oh how she would love to have eyes out the back of her head…

Were that the world had such a sense of whimsy. Alas.

The Lasombra curse was a subtly maddening thing. It made the simple act of getting ready in the morning an ordeal that required the assistance of at least one servant. And dependence was a bitter pill to swallow. Azula smirked, eyes closing at the irony.

Dependence.

What a funny word. She hated and she loved it, her grip on power and her own chain. It described so much of her life, so much of what was important to her, that she was sick of it. Sick of hearing it, sick of considering it, sick of thinking it to herself when she walked in the bleak shadows- when she was truly alone. Mai and Ty Lee were dependent on her, unshakably tethered by the blood bond... even if, she hoped, their lengthy shared history played a greater part in their loyalty. In turn, Azula was certainly dependent on the Cardinal, on the Lasombra, on the Sabbat. All the way to the top of the pyramid, vanishing somewhere between The Regent of the Sabbat and Caine… but those were placeholders. Her real dependence, pitiful as it might be, was on her brother and ghouls.

Once, she had defined herself by her position, by her connections to political power. Her father had been an important man, Zuko had great prospects, and she herself had many aspirations of carving herself a seat of power amid the political turmoil of Japan. Something to cement her legacy amid the countless unremarkable nobles who had preceded and surrounded her. To stand with the Great’s of history.

50 years later, it all seemed rather quaint.

Now she had real power, the kind that remained with you until the final death, and all the time in the world- if she was clever. Her natural affinity for politics seemed more of an idle pastime now, less of an unceasing need to constantly manipulate and scheme to elevate her own position in the game. She could afford to be patient.

And yet.

Azula opened her eyes, watching as Mai ran a brush over the barely-perceptable distortion in the mirror. It wasn’t politics, or legacy, or even the monstrous hunger within that bent her before that hateful, lovely, funny word.

Dependence.

The state of being controlled by someone or something else. Azula knew what controlled her. It made her feel sick, pathetic and weak. Rather how she used to think of her brother, actually. The truth was that Azula had nearly lost her mind once, she’d felt it rush out of her body like a river from a burst dam. In retrospect, a cracked porcelain teapot seemed a more descriptive metaphor. And all it had taken was losing a handful of people. They hadn’t been her father, or her uncle, or anyone 'important' at court- most of whom were already fading to faceless blurs even within a memory as sharp as her own.

The Lasombra initiation ritual necessitated the gradual pruning of a potential fledgling's good fortunes: wealth, property, belongings… family. Azula had weathered much of the storm well enough, according to Ozai, but she had cracked when she’d lost her family. Not just a little either- Azula had begun to have waking nightmares, hallucinations of the long dead and the not-so-long dead.

Her absent mother, bemoaning her daughter’s lonely state, as if Azula could do anything to change how she’d been abandoned. Her imposing father, cursing his fate, spitting vitriol and raging that all that remained of his legacy was a useless daughter who was losing her mind. Her long-tormented brother, offering shockingly benevolent consolation before reminding her he was in fact, dead, and that she was pathetic enough to lose herself the moment she was left alone.

One night he hadn’t been a hallucination; Zuko had come to her in the flesh, in her darkest hour when her mind had felt it would shatter completely, to warn and explain to her the bizarre reality of what was happening. No doubt if he had been discovered it would have led to both of their deaths, for interrupting the illusion that had been crafted around her as her initiation test. It had all sounded like madness of course. She hadn’t believed him that night, not really… but she couldn’t not believe him either. Those last months had left her perilously close to destitute and alone in the world- she had to believe that there was a purpose, some promise of improvement. It had been a mad fervor that had gripped her, a kind of willful delusion she had thought at the time, to hold herself together and to meet the mastermind of her misery.

It hadn't been a delusion. 

The vindication she had felt when Ozai had finally approached her, the absolute focus she had felt when it had all been laid out before her... she could almost agree with the reasoning of what the Lasombra did to their recruits. Almost. After her embrace she had been nearly overwhelmed with power- raw crushing strength and the ability to dominate others with a look. A natural progression of her skills in life really. Her awareness of the shadow came more slowly and required that same absolute focus she had madly honed during the last days of her mortality. But for all the boons her transformation had bestowed on her she would never forgive her sire for what he'd taken; her ironclad sense of self rooted in her right to rule, that she was fundamentally superior... built on the lie that she didn't need anyone else.

Zuko, for all his whining of abandonment and dismissal, had gotten what she could only dream of: an embrace with his sense of identity intact. 

And of course he'd been the one to lift her out of the hole she would have died in- without him she would have undoubtedly lost her mind and Ozai would have passed her over without a second thought. She'd be left with nothing. She'd be nothing. If it weren't for her brother's kindness.

She hated it. Hated that she could never forget it. Hated that she'd been so... wrong all her life. Hated that she couldn't hate him.

Dependence.

If nothing else, the experience had revealed to Azula that she was not a monolith, not untouchable or unstopable. She was human, and fallible, and there were parts of her that would break and fold if left alone. The reality was pathetic. Shameful. But she hated being alone so much more. Alone with herself.

“Would you like me to continue Mistress?”

Azula blinked, “How long has it been?”

“Nearly an hour Mistress.”

Azula didn’t allow alarm to show in her features, which Mai couldn’t see anyway, but she felt it nonetheless. 

“You brushed my hair for an hour? ”

Mai's face frowned dispassionately from the mirror, the faintest hint of a blush coloring her face, “I was waiting for your permission to stop, Mistress.”

Azula scoffed, rising, “You may stop.”

Truth be told, if Mai hadn’t interrupted her thoughts she probably would have stayed there all night. It was a little frightening how thoroughly her memories had trapped her, like some kind of self-aware statue. Even the ever-present murmurs of the beast had quieted for her trance. Mai, with her mortal flesh and blood, was probably stiff from kneeling.

They moved through the motions to allow Mai to help her into her dress, more pragmatic than her usual affair: she had places to be after all. Places she was quite late to being, thanks to her little solipsistic episode. It was embarrassment that fueled her smirk as she turned, and she enjoyed the tiny shift in her servant as the taller woman braced for whatever her mistress had in mind.

She slid a hand over Mai's arm, enjoying the shiver that swept from her touch, squeezing theatrically, “Goodness, why so tense? I was just going to say how sweet it is that you enjoy my company so.”

Mai was above grinding her teeth, but her frown deepened fractionally. Hardly noticeable. To anyone who hadn’t known her for as long as Azula had anyway. Her thrall held her tongue -typically wise- but Azula wasn't content with her silence tonight.

“Well I hope you enjoyed yourself.” Azula coiled up to her, gently pushing a lock of hair from her servants face. Mai remained stonefaced but her skin flushed at the proximity. It was a visceral response she had no control over, Azula knew, but it was a gratifying reaction all the same. Azula lingered, enjoying the warring emotions not fully hidden beneath the stoic features of her oldest friend. 

"I did as was instructed."

Azula pouted, resting her elbow on Mai's shoulder and looked her directly in the eyes, "You finished what was instructed 40 minutes ago- surely you could have spoken up then?" She stroked Mai's hair, listening to her tightly controlled breathing.

At this distance Azula could almost feel her own vitae pumping through her ghoul’s veins. Could feel Mai's heart pounding in her chest even as her own lay still. Blood calls to blood. Mai's willpower was always one of her most admirable qualities to Azula, she enjoyed testing it from time to time. Considering how yesterday had gone for her she must be starving for vitae- it would only be responsible to offer her more. But it was such sweet joy watching her squirm...

Mai swallowed, voice miraculously holding steady even as sweat began to bead on her brow, “May I be excused Mistress?”

“Why?" Azula dragged her fingers over Mai's scalp, "Wouldn't you rather stay?”

Mai's facade cracked and the murderous glare she offered belied the feverish want in her eyes. It was fascinating, the conflict written in every corner of a face normally so calm. She looked about ready to slap her, beg her for the vitae her body craved - or maybe give in to the desire of the bond. Azula brushed that final thought away, along with the rush of power it gave her. Or she tried to. Her beast wasn't so quick to relinquish the thought of torturing Mai till she caved. It offered a very compelling image of what could play out instead. Suddenly it wasn't just Mai trapped in conflict and Azula dug her nails into her offhand, struggling to maintain her own composure. Stop. Why? We have Ty Lee. And we could have them both.

Azula inched forward and Mai's eyes widened fractionally. Whether in fear or excitement, she might not know herself.

STOP. She's OURS. STOP. The trouble with the beast was that it always made a lot of sense in the moment, but never planned for longer than that. Azula prided herself on her plans- but the beast could be awfully persuasive. She dredged up memories, awful, terrible memories of what happened when it got its way, reminded herself of what she stood to lose, and refused to listen as the monster inside countered her every point.

Reason didn't so much reassert itself as it waited out the beast, and she slowly drew back, feeling more in control by the millimeter. Much as she enjoyed toying with her, Azula had had no real desire to punish or debase Mai with any of the outcomes she was baiting her with. She finally wrestled herself fully under control, stepping back, a tightly relieved smile disguised by a merciful nod, “You may be excused Mai.”

Mai visibly gasped in relief, the conflict in her features lessening fractionally as disappointment and respite joined the mix. She bowed stiffly, her words clear but reflexive and empty, "Thank you Mistress."

Azula's smile faded along with Mai’s footsteps. She rubbed her temple. That had been much too close; she was not in control of herself. If Zuko found out... well, he wouldn't look kindly at her encroaching on Mai- he barely tolerated their blood bond as it was. That's why it would taste so sweet... he'd only be angry IF he found out.

She felt mildly ill.

Change. Dependence. Unease.

Focus.

Azula fought the urge to straighten her hair, to trust that Mai had done her job well, as she always did. This evening had not gotten off to a good start; succumbing to her beast and entertaining juvenile power fantasies was not helping matters. She had appointments to keep, plans to set into motion. That was what she excelled at, and that was what she must do. For all their sakes. She couldn’t lose her family, not again, and she was the only one who could get them out of this.

Zuko - Atlantic Ocean

Zuko threw himself out over the water, grinning as the ocean winds nearly capsized the catamaran as it whipped over the waves. It was all about as slow as everything else was to him but somehow different. He wasn’t Lasombra but he could appreciate their attraction to the sea. To a point. His interest waned when they spoke of the Abyss and the shadows that dwelt there before God created light.

But this? This he could get behind.

They closed on the freighter.

Zuko leapt the intervening space, easily soaring over the shadowed water, hand catching the railing and throwing himself over the deck. The crewmen that saw him gawked while the shadows bled Lasombra all around them. He didn’t concern himself with them, the Lasombra Corsairs here didn’t respect him but they also couldn’t order him around. He was here for one thing and they were to help. If their captain heard that they had done anything less than what was asked of them…

Zuko smirked with a touch of sadism at thought of what that punishment would entail.

Carlos was a pirate captain through and through. A cutthroat. Brigand. Scoundrel. Zuko struggled to understand why they got along so well. Maybe it had something to do with Carlos', probably feigned, sense of honor. He’d never once cheated Zuko in the many games of cards they’d played, and unlike the rest of his crew he treated Zuko with some modicum of respect. The journey out to the open sea had almost been pleasant, were it not for the tight quarters packed full of utterly vile kindred.

Zuko made haste, before those same kindred could find an excuse to act on their hunger. They had a job to do, one that would be much easier if the crew were alive to answer questions. He approached the bridge where the Captain and officers halfheartedly hefted their weapons, eyes wide as what must seem like demons stepped out from every shadow. Zuko brought their attention to him with a mild effort of will, shouldering past the Lasombra as he addressed them.

“Captain: you have an unusual passenger. Take me to them.”

The captain took a half step back as he approached, “I- We- Y-yes sir.”

Zuko smiled, not from the captain’s respect but at the annoyed look of the Lasombra Commander as the mortal addressed the Brujah as if he was in charge. It was a relief that the captain knew who he spoke of, he'd been ready to turn the ship inside out to retrieve the stowaway. He followed as they led him below decks to a sheltered compartment near the front of the tanker.

“You aren’t in charge here, dog, let us do our work. ” Zuko ignored the Lasombra. If anyone on this mission was worth his time, Carlos would told him.

They came to a hatch, its metal latch sealed tight, and the mortal captain stood aside as he searched his pockets, presumably for a key. Zuko wrenched the door open with brute strength, enjoying but not acknowledging the mouthy Lasombra’s subtle look of concern as they stepped past the warped metal. Unnecessary? Yes. Fun though.

Inside, a young man sat cross legged on a simple cot laid out on the floor. He was pale, skin nearly the shade of snow, and he wore a simple bandanna around his head.

“So our sources were right, a soul stealer sneaking into our territory. Have anything to say for yourself?”

The boy, for he barely looked old enough to shave, opened his eyes calmly and studied Zuko.

“Surely you could have waited for me to land. Why endanger the crew?”

“You could escape. Or have friends waiting. Intercepting you over open ocean is quieter, and more in line with my associates limited skillset.”

The boy ignored the corsair’s growl, speaking over it calmly, “I will go peacefully if you let all surviving members of the crew go on their way.”

The Lasombra scoffed, drawing the boy's attention.

“You can remove the memories of your raid, can you not?”

The captain hissed derisively, the shadows flexing as he spoke, “We have been at sea for days, the men are hungry.”

Zuko nodded, “Take their memories and let them go.”

“What!? ”

“I don’t want my soul eaten. Do you?”

On cue, the boy slid the bandanna off his head, and the staring third eye Zuko had been expecting focused on the man. The complaining Lasombra’s mouth snapped shut with another growl and he didn’t speak again. Small blessings.

“Alright Salubri: to your satisfaction?”

“My satisfaction would have been no casualties at all. But it will have to do.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. It was unusual to find kindred who cared for mortal lives- at least in the circles he found himself in. Even his closest confidants had become dismissive as of late- and he could hardly blame them, given the life they led.

Still. Maybe this could be more than just a recovery mission.

“What should I call you?”

“Aang.”

“Zuko.”

Mai - São Laivo

Mai stared at the pen in her hand.

She needed to use it to write the letter requisitioning linens for the manor. But her hand wouldn't stop shaking. She watched it, considering why it was shaking- and quickly moved on to what she could do to correct it.

As they often did, her thoughts turned to how her companions would handle the situation. Zuko would probably break at least one pen in misplaced anger, in fact she was almost certain she remembered that exact scene playing out with a paintbrush in his father's mansion. Ty Lee would probably get less-destructively-frustrated and let herself be distracted while getting water, maybe the letter would get written and maybe (probably) not. Mistress would sit and write the letter even if it took both hands to do it. Her hand spasmed, nearly dotting the parchment.

Mai willfully put Azula out of her mind and set the pen down, seeing the most wisdom in Ty Lee's approach: she should drink water. Even if the idea that her tremor was due to dehydration was more than a little laughable, it was actionable. And a little perceived control was worth the pantomime.

I really have changed.

She raised an eyebrow at the empty carafe. Had she not sent for water? Perhaps the servant had been accosted... or perhaps she had simply forgotten. If there was any doubt that her mind wasn't on her work, this proved it. She'd never have the letter written at this rate.

Methodically, she set the china down and rose from her seat.

Technically it was Zuko's seat, but she knew for a fact he would never spend as much time in it as she did on any given week. The same might be said of his quarters as a whole. She'd commandeered them for her work today, as she often did. They were generally safer than her own dormitory. With Ty Lee relegated to "bedrest" in their Mistress' room she'd had no reason to return to her assigned bed at all. It wasn't as if anyone would notice.

There was a complicated tangle of emotions that underlaid the entire arrangement but she rarely had the time to try and unravel them.

Walking with purpose through the manor to the well, she scrutinized the goings on. At this time of day the servants were quickly going about their tasks with little to no chatter, all eager to finish well before the sun ever approached the horizon. These were true mortals, villagers hired more or less honestly from the town, no hint of vitae had ever touched them. And hopefully never would, she thought dryly. It wasn't a passing fancy; for all of its supposed "gifts" Vitae controlled your life from the first drop to the last.

She winced as she walked into the sunlight, the afternoon sun stabbing her dark-adjusted eyes. The radiant warmth burned her skin, and she felt the beginnings of a migraine creeping up her spine. It was all in her head of course. She wasn't kindred, the sunlight had no more impact on her than it did any other mortal.

A gaggle of maids rounded the corner and gasped nearly in unison as their eyes fell upon her. They practically tripped over themselves getting out of her path, even if they weren't particularly in her way. She didn't slow her pace or otherwise recognize their presence as she passed, their heads bowed with downcast eyes. In a twisted way she relished their fear, even as the futility of it made her ill. Maybe Ty Lee had a point in associating with the kine- she certainly seemed less monstrous than Mai felt. Her "light" or whatever seemed brighter.

She filled her carafe and turned back, her gaze falling on an unusual sight.

A young boy stood a dozen paces from her, watching her with curious eyes. He face and hands were filthy. Probably one of the servants children. Mai had absolutely no idea what possessed the child's mother to bring him here. Maybe she couldn't arrange a nanny.

The boy tilted his head and stuck out his hand, waving it back and forth. Ty Lee would probably think he was adorable and coo endlessly over him. Mai doubted she would have ever had quite that reaction, but at one time she might have at least returned his wave. Right now all she could think of was the horror that would unfold if he was here after nightfall. She'd seen it before.

Before she knew it she was shouting at some hapless maid, thrusting the crying boy into her arms and extracting an earnest promise never to bring any children to the manor ever again, whatever the circumstances. By the time she was through the maid was crying nearly as much as the boy, and she fled Mai's presence like her life depended on it. Mai took a slow breath, turning and glaring at the spectators, the other servants setting about their work with frantic attention.

She frowned down at her empty hands: she had no idea what she'd done with the carafe.

Zuko - São Luís

Zuko emerged from the water as silently as he could manage. He needn’t have bothered, the sounds of merriment were loud all around him. In fact he wasn’t even the only man in soaking wet clothes- though the others swayed far more. 

The ports of São Luís were somewhat quieter than he remembered- but they were far from empty. He had no trouble blending in amidst the crowds of sailors, making his way deeper into the city where he prioritized speed over stealth. He wished he could enjoy the scenery more but he had a job to do- and he had no doubt that the Nosferatu population already knew he was here.

Turning down the fourth dark alley, he came to an abrupt halt. The target of his search sat at a table, idly shuffling cards, watching him with gleaming red eyes.

“Lady Zahida. You moved.”

She answered cooly, “My last store burnt down.”

He nodded, refraining from pointing out that she’d been the one to set it aflame (even if she had been trying to set his sister ablaze for somewhat relatable reasons). He was curious how Azula had ‘worked out their differences’ with her after that fiasco but she obviously knew he was coming and hadn’t attacked him yet, so maybe Azula really had convinced her to play nice.

Unwilling to mince words, he approached. She lowered her cards and he felt the prickle of magic fill the alley. He slowed his steps. Calmly, carefully, he took out the waterproof pouch, producing the folded parchment. The red eyes narrowed as he held out the letter. After a long moment, the dark skinned women took it from his hand.

“For the record," he interjected as she tore open the envelope with a long nail, "I do not know what is written inside.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, unfolding the letter and scanning it.

The other eyebrow shot up and Zuko tensed, ready to flee as fast as celerity could carry him, but the warlock didn’t become hostile. Instead her eyes slid over the letter several times before she looked up and nodded.

“Tell her I will do this.”

“...what did she ask?”

Zahida smiled coyly, neatly folding the letter and stowing it in her clothes, “Maybe you should ask her?”

Zuko felt his eye twitch but he was able to mute any further sign of his annoyance. The warlock beckoned, "Come inside. I have something I must prepare before you leave and you are on contested ground."

She vanished through a cramped doorway and he followed cautiously, "I thought the Ivory Tower controlled the territory?"

"For now, and 'control' is a strong word." The room they had entered looked exactly as Zuko imagined a witches shack should look; hanging herbs, innumerable clay jars, a menagerie of scents he had no inclination to try and make sense of. Zahida bustled about, snatching items apparently at random, "The Camarilla struggles here in the South, too much history keeping them out and they aren't used to having their greatest strength leveraged against them." She gathered her eclectic materials and began to arrange them on the only moderately clean surface.

"Isn't that a problem for you? My understanding was you and the Ivory Tower weren't on the best of terms."

She laughed humorlessly, producing what appeared to be some kind of animal bone that she set on the table, "We are not. But I keep my head down, and as I said: the Camarilla struggles. So the powers that be overlook my presence, discourage any of Tremere's followers from hunting me down, and seek my help whenever they require alternative solutions."

He nodded slowly, "I know quite a few Sabbat who would take serious issue with you assisting Camarilla interests."

"I'm sure you do. Be sure to remind them that I'm more valuable on the inside. As your sister has so astutely recognized."

She produced a well-used dagger, the room filling with the scent of fresh vitae as she drew it over her forearm. He felt the pull of power he couldn't name as she began to chant, inscribing runes in vitae, and he found himself comparing her magic to his sisters. Broadly it seemed similar, or at least felt similar, as the shadows of the room whispered and danced in response to kindred arcanum. But the chanting and the movements were a change; The spellbinder moved with precision and careful articulations of her fingers as she daubed glyphs on the bone, Zuko could feel the pressure of her words as they filled the room. It felt very... ritualistic. Obviously, he smirked to himself.

By contrast, Azula never spoke when she bent the shadow to her will, or at least not that he'd seen. Her arms, legs, and entire body seemed to channel the umbra like an extension of herself; for him her manipulation of shadow always brought to mind kung fu, and they felt less like an arcane ritual and more like a dance. He'd developed a distaste for magic since his formative years as a kindred, one he'd never quite been able to overcome, but he should set some time aside to wheedle the basics from Azula. He was confident she'd tell him, even if only to demonstrate her own superiority.

The thought was surprisingly free of bitterness, even lifting his spirits a bit as he reflected on the balance they'd achieved. The prospect of spending time with his sister was actually somewhat motivating.

"What are you smiling about?"

He blinked, finding a perplexed Zahida holding the animal bone, apparently done with whatever ritual she'd needed to perform. The bone had no signs of the vitae that had covered it, and had been adorned in various feathers and herbs tied tightly in braids.

"Eager to be returning home."

She tilted her head curiously, an oddly human smile gracing her features, but didn't comment further as she held out the talisman.

He eyed it but didn't reach for it, "Can I please know what this is for now?"

"Your sister requested that she be the one to tell you, you have my utmost assurance as a practitioner and a kindred that it will not harm you or anyone you care for."

He glared but saw no deceit in her eyes. It also sounded exactly like something his sister would request and his fond thoughts vanished in an instant. He took the fetish, scowling down at it like it was his sisters distrust made manifest. Did she think him incompetent? What on earth was she planning?

"Is that it then? Anything else in that letter I can't read?"

"Yes, that is all. Take the item to Azula, I have done what was asked of me." She paused before continuing, "Do not think too harshly of your sister, information is a dangerous thing."

Anger and fury swirled viciously within him and he felt his own frustration inflated by his beast. He wrestled against the violent impulses rising within him, keenly feeling his own hunger. Risky as it was, perhaps he should feed before returning to the ship.

Zahida ushered him back into the alley and he offered a polite bow before turning on his heel, his eyes threatening to roll out of their skull after he turned away, calling over his shoulder for the sake of remaining on good terms with the witch, “Thank you Señora, may good fortune be with you.”

“And to you Señor. May we meet on good terms again one night."

Azula - São Laivo

"Regarding the matter of the upcoming blood feast- I understand there was an interruption in supply?"

Azula waved her hand dismissively, "Already dealt with, we'll have kine in reserve if things get as out of hand as they usually do, and enough then to get by if they exceed even that."

The wizened Nosferatu nodded slowly, expression as unreadable as ever given the distorted mess his face had become. Azula struggled not to recoil as she observed it, even after all this time. Troubled as her embrace had been: at least she wasn't a Nosferatu.

"Well Fabian, informative as this has been I'm afraid I have other tasks that must be dealt with before sunrise. I trust there are no further questions?"

"As exacting as ever, madam Azula."

She gracefully bowed herself out of her ghastly company, making a sincere effort of will not to dust herself off as she left the filthy reliquary. Contrary to how the night had begun she had made quite a bit of headway in a number of theaters. Reconnaissance had provided numerous bargaining chips in the never-ending turf war with the Camarilla Toreador, who were uniquely vulnerable to the kind of mud-slinging that she intended to use to "discourage" open conflict. The Cardinal's interests in Brazil's heartland had found unique allies in the local Nosferatu, who seemed eager to support any cause that gave them resources. Azula could sympathize, the jungles were a frightening place even for kindred. And her role in the scheduling of the blood feast was fully accounted for, and then some to account for the general incompetence of her peers (as well as Ty Lee's little lapse in judgement).

She had one last thing to manage before the dawn, a cursory errand she’d set in motion nights ago and had delayed checking up on. Because it was not a cursory errand, and she dared not draw anyone's attention to that fact.

The lantern light flickered against the rough-hewn walls, jagged shadows dancing with more life than most could ever know. Azula descended the spiral staircase with purpose, the air growing colder and heavier with each step. She’d always found the lower levels of the church oppressive, even by kindred standards. Here, where shadow mingled with damp stone and silence reigned, the weight of centuries fully palpable. It was a fitting place for exchanging secrets- and for burying them.

Tonight, however, the sound of muted voices and the steady rhythm of tools against stone greeted her as she approached the worksite. A faint haze of mortar dust hung in the air, along with a particularly acrid tang cutting through the usual must of the tunnels. The kine were hard at work, tired faces illuminated by carefully positioned lamplight. None noticed her entrance, nor her presence for some time after. She spent the time feeling out the darkness, ensuring no other kindred lurked or had lurked within it recently.

Azula surveyed a nearly completed wall with a critical eye.

The foundations of the church were sturdy, but the tunnels had been expanded vigorously and often unwisely during the Sabbat’s early inhabitation of the structure. She knew well that architectural upkeep was needed to stop certain levels from collapsing, a task that had been lost somewhere in kindred middle management. Devoted scion of the Lasombra house that she was, Azula had taken on the responsibility of fortifying the decaying levels. She had spared no expense, bringing in a contingent of kine workmen to shore up the levels properly.

Azula watched as the last bricks of the wall were set in place, blocking out her view of the stacked barrels behind them. She regarded the freshly mortared wall for anything out of order. Nothing stood out. Which meant nothing would stand out to any but the most insightful observer- and no self-respecting kindred would come down here for just any reason. Certainly none in the next few months, at least. And that was all she needed.

“Good work stonemason. I am most pleased.” The swarthy man jumped at her presence, hurrying to update her on the near-completed work. He spoke of inspections and shoring up their work in later years, and she let him as she finished her scouring of the darkness- only cutting him off when she felt confident in her secrecy. As confident as could be anyway. She regarded the human for a long moment, weighing her options, before staring into his eyes, “Now, you’ll forget everything you’ve done here when you walk through the servants entrance.”

She sent him and his men on their way with an appropriate amount of coin, walking them to the entrance and ensuring no other kindred accosted them. Some Lasombra would say she was being soft or incautious, but she knew they were fools. Mercy always came with risk, but so did wanton cruelty. Even if nobody would ever know, murder always came with its own consequences. Better to wipe the workers memories and send them on their way than have the sudden disappearance of a score of men drawing attention.

Azula lingered in the corridor after the workers had gone, their murmured farewells fading into silence as they disappeared up the winding stairs. With a glance she doused the remaining lanterns, plunging the vault into shadow. She stood motionless, listening to the stillness. The Cardinal's long inhabitation had drawn the abyss close to the surface in São Laivo, nowhere more than the church. The darkness was aberrantly black here, even to the uninitiated eye. To her it was less unsettling than for most, but even in full control of the abyss that drowned her surroundings, it was less than pleasant.

She imagined a spark, the simple culmination of her plans, and allowed herself a smile.

Zuko - Off the Brazilian Coast

They were making good time back from São Luís, which was fortunate given how hungry the crew was becoming. Most hadn’t been allowed to feed at their last stop and their rapid deployment meant they had no cattle on board to satiate their hunger with. They were becoming... agitated. Zuko spent most of his time either in Carlos’ company, idling away the hours with cards, or in the brig with their latest acquisition. Aang had been sealed in an iron sarcophagus, the crew superstitiously (or perhaps wisely) not wanting to give him any opportunity to prove the legends of the Salubri soul-eating correct.

Zuko was fairly certain Aang wasn’t a direct threat to anyone on the ship… but he had to wonder what he was doing and why the Cardinal wanted him to be recovered. It would have been enough had he been in São Laivo, or even in Sabbat territory at all, but this was quite a journey to pluck a hapless traveler from the open ocean. Was it simply because he was a Salubri? Legend had it that they had many mystical powers, even by kindred standards. But Ozai was practical, when he wasn’t megalomaniacal anyway; Zuko suspected there was a specific reason. He just couldn't fathom what it was... yet.

Zuko rested his boots against the iron coffin, leaning back in his chair and idly scanning the intricate glyphs etched across its surface. "Warding sigils", or so Carlos had informed him. He had a feeling that they were more for the crew's peace of mind than to actually contain the occupant. Aang had laughed when Zuko mentioned them. The kind of laugh that came from someone who’d seen centuries of fear dressed up as wisdom- it was a little unsettling, even if it wasn't surprising.

“Describe these 'wards' to me again?” Aang’s voice, muffled but clear, carried an amused note he didn't often hear, "I think I can feel them beginning to sap my power... uuugh..."

“They are scribed in vitae” Zuko replied, half-heartedly, “They might be able to.”

Zuko sighed at the muffled snort, running a hand through his disheveled hair, “If you’re so confident you can get out, why don’t you? You’ve got to have some idea of what awaits you when we reach São Laivo.”

“Some idea,” Aang said lightly. “I could leave... but I’m curious about this Sabbat Cardinal. Anyone who sends his servants to kidnap travelers in the night probably needs a talking to, I thought maybe I should be the one to do it.”

Zuko frowned. “You might be old Aang but I don't think you're that old. Or that stupid. Whatever you have planned-”

“I'm not really a planner,” Aang interrupted, fingers tapping out a tune on the metal. “I'm more a moment by moment kinda guy- plans change after all.”

His confidence grated, but Zuko found it intrigued him more. Aang spoke with the kind of certainty that came from absolute mastery, not bravado. It reminded him of one of his teachers growing up, utterly confident in his own ability- and what's more it reminded him of Ty Lee, of all people. If she were a kindred. And her "inner light", as he'd so tactfully described it, kept burning despite the embrace. It was... heartening. To see an old kindred so proudly display the spark of humanity. Maybe there was some hope in turning Ty Lee after all.

Despite everything in their society that seemed to push for ever-darker coping mechanisms, Aang wasn’t cruel or condescending. He seemed genuinely curious and genuine in his answers to Zuko’s questions- except when it came to his plans.

“You're being awfully cavalier for someone being held in enemy hands- particularly with such a small prison."

“Prison is a perspective,” Aang answered lightly. “And besides, you’re not my enemy. Not yet.”

“Not yet?”

Aang chuckled again, that irritatingly calm sound resonating through the iron walls. “I try not to make enemies without need- you can probably tell I've a distaste for conflict. Besides, something tells me you're a reasonable man, maybe even an honorable one..."

Zuko bristled, rocking back from the sarcophagus as Aang stumbled over an old insecurity- or maybe not so old, considering how intense his reaction. His fathers scathing words raked though his mind, as though the old man was clawing his way out of the grave. He reigned his emotions in, annoyed with himself and irrationally angry at the box' occupant. He gave no verbal indication of his displeasure but he felt the pause linger in the room, like he was being given a moment to collect himself. Which made him all the more irritated.

"...call it blind intuition but I just feel like when it really matters you'll make the right decisions."

"The right decisions huh?"

"Like I said, it takes a lot to be my enemy. I hope we'll be friends instead."

"What do you mean by-"

A distant clang echoed from the deck above, followed by muted shouting. Zuko sat up. 

“You might want to handle that,” Aang said mildly. “Your crew’s thirst is... palpable.”

So he spent time with Aang, tried to get to know him, to understand what he could offer the Cardinal. Or what the Cardinal believed he could offer him anyway.

He learned several things quickly:

1. Aang was unendingly patient, which was a sharp reminder to Zuko that he himself was not.
2. The more assertive Zuko tried to be in his questioning, the more things went awry among the crew.
3. Aang was old.

Some kindred could simply tell by looking at another how potent their blood was but Zuko was not one who possessed that kind of extrasensory gift. So he had to take it on faith that Aang wasn’t lying when he spoke of traveling with samurai fighting the Mongol invaders (around 1270 by European dates if Zuko remembered right), wandered in China during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period (900’s?), or wistfully recalled playing Chaturanga in the Gupta Empire (Zuko had no idea but it sounded old). Maybe he was too trusting but Zuko didn’t think Aang was lying. Which meant that Aang was traveling as their prisoner because he wanted to- if he wanted to leave there was absolutely nothing any of them could do to stop him, iron box or no. Zuko wondered if the Cardinal himself wasn’t in over his head.

Which made his time with the ancient all the more bizarre as they shared genial conversations night after night. 

On the last night before their return to São Laivo, Aang spoke first, blindsiding Zuko with, “You chafe under the dominion of your Cardinal.”

Zuko was so taken aback he couldn't think of anything more clever than a blunt, “Good guess.”

“Not guessing." Fingers lightly rapped out a lively beat on the inside of the metal, "Most childer struggle against the control of their elders, but for you it’s written in your every step. He threatens you. Whether it’s your plans, your freedom, or… something more precious.”

Zuko glared at the crude casket, and while he couldn’t see any part of the Salubri elder, he had a feeling all three of the eyes inside were regarding him through the metal. He took a slow breath, trying to soothe his inner fire like his uncle had taught him so long ago. It was a fair bit more difficult with the beast but the technique still worked... eventually.

He sat down in the frequently occupied chair -he really should have considered bringing a more comfortable one- and regarded the box.

"What's your point?" 

He could almost hear the smile in the voice of the salubri, "You've asked me a lot of questions that I haven't given you satisfactory answers to. We've talked a lot these past few days Zuko, and you seem like the right kind of man to tell those answers to."

Rather than interest or pride, Zuko felt annoyance. It was only to be expected that his prisoner would be feeling his warden out just as much as the reverse- but having it laid out so blatantly grated on his nerves.

"I'm all ears Aang."

"Just a moment then." There was another shout from above decks and Zuko growled as he stood up, cursing the corsairs and their hunger, "Don't answer that, we want the distraction. Just in case." Zuko slowly sat down and the elder carried on, tone never straying far from jovial, "I'm usually a good judge of character, but why take the risk since we'd be traveling together anyway? You wanted to know why I'm here? I'm actually running an errand of my own."

"You don't say."

"Unbelievable, I know, but I've had a little nugget of information that's been hanging over me for some time. I'll spare you the details and my poor translation skills, but it refers to a being of the abyss wreaking havoc among kith and kine. Dangerous for all involved, no?"

"Yes, certainly: could you be more specific?"

"Yes."

"..."

"..."

"Will you be more specific?"

"Certainly. But first I need to know you're willing to work with me, the information is time sensitive."

"I can't let you go if that's what you're going to ask."

"Not at all. I'm right where I want to be. I just need to know I have a friend in you."

"Aang these vagaries are going to get us nowhere."

"Are we friends Zuko? Can I trust your honor?"

He scowled at the box, "Yes. Fine." He rolled his eyes and sighed, "We can be friends Aang, you have my word."

"Great! I knew you had it in you."

Zuko rubbed his eyes, listening anxiously to the ongoing cacophony outside, “Alright Aang. Start making sense."

"Of course, sorry, I'll be straightforward: you want to get out of the Sabbat, don't you?"

Zuko stilled.

"You need to free yourself of the Vaulderie and blood bond to your master?"

"I'm listening."

"I have it on very good authority that your master, Cardinal Ozai of the Sabbat, has plans to unleash a great power from the abyss. I intend to stop him. If you help me, I'll free you of your domination."

Zuko felt his heart and mind coil in on themselves, wrestling between instincts and compulsions. What he was being told was too good to be true, in many ways... but his blood screamed at him to put a stop to such backstabbing. The Cardinal must be warned, this Salubri cannot be allowed to harm him! He actually stood up, despite having nowhere to go, the thought urging him to act NOW. Mai's face crystallized in his mind. Ty Lee's. His sister's. I swore I would free her, free them- he spasmed, his inner conflict spilling into his bodies jerky movements.

"You... you can't..."

Suddenly the first voice quieted, his blood calming as if by magic. The surging conflict giving way to perfect clarity... and anger. He looked back on his memories and saw his every interaction with Ozai, his every command, every scrap of knowledge he had of the elder Lasombra. It was as if he could suddenly see without the rose tinted glasses that had been forced upon him by the blood bond. The scent of potent vitae reached his nose, and he turned to the box, his mind alight with hope and no small amount of awe.

"I can. And I will." Aang's voice was calm, gentle even, "I'll break the blood bond that holds you to Ozai, and those that bind those you care for, but Zuko: You HAVE to know how important it is that I stop him. Thousands of lives are at risk, if not more."

Zuko swallowed, "What do you need me to do?"

“Is the society of Leopold still an order of monster hunters?”

“It is.”

“Then I know where a monster is.”

“Tell me, child.”

Chapter Text

Zuko - 1909, São Laivo

Zuko stood at the prow, pensive as he watched the dim lights of São Laivo steadily creep along the horizon.

Home.

If he was very lucky he wouldn't have to keep calling it that for more than a few more hours.

It held the most important people in his life -annoying as they could be (one in particular)- but that was more of an implicit threat than a feature. The sooner he could get the girls as far from this place as he could the happier he would be- but he dared not hope. It couldn't be that simple. It never was.

He'd was more than happy to be proven wrong. It just hadn't happened yet.

Curious as he was for whatever plans Azula had wrought, he’d spared his errand for her little mind on the return journey. Life had conspired to keep him occupied. He had a feeling he was about to dash her plans to pieces with the ship’s cargo. The thought made him smirk, even as it simultaneously filled him with dread.

If she wanted them to be a team then she had to include him in her planning, not just use him as a piece in her games. Whatever chaos he was about to unleash on São Laivo, it was her own fault that he couldn’t preempt her plans derailing since he had no idea what they were. Hopefully her plans for Zahida’s bone wouldn’t be for naught- one way or the other, he was about to set a Salubri Elder loose on his “home” in the name of freedom. For him. For her. For all of them.

The feeling of dread deepened.

 He spun on his heel and strode back to the wheel, exchanging curt nods with Carlos.

“Right on schedule, what did I tell you?”

“Your ‘errand’ put us a day behind.”

“You worry too much.”

The captain snorted, “I worry too- you have some gall boy.”

Zuko shrugged nonchalantly, “A day one way or the other is well within the grace period of a journey by ship”

Carlos sighed, “Perhaps for the affairs of kine… we do not serve patient masters my friend. To say nothing of those who serve us- I don’t think my crew would much appreciate nearly missing the blood feast on your behalf. We are cutting it awfully close, I dearly hope it will be worth it. And if it isn't-" He lowered his voice conspiratorially, mostly joking, "you must let me know when we need to run. Remember: the signal is three quick blinks.”

Zuko smirked, “When next I see you, if I still have eyes, I’ll be sure to relay my success or failure."

Carlos laughed throatily, grumbling something colorful under his breath before calling orders to his crew, all eager to disembark and feed. Zuko’s easy smile crumbled quickly. Rowdy sailors returning from sea was one thing- that they were all ravenous Lasombra and cutthroats to boot... no mortal would be safe in São Laivo tonight. He desperately hoped Mai was somewhere far from the docks- he had to find her quickly, warn her at least and keep her company if he could.

Surely he could steal a moment or two? Aang’s gift of clarity seemed too precious to waste even a single moment- and no moment with Mai could be wasted.

He swore, if his actions tonight and tomorrow afforded him even a fraction of freedom, he'd never be this helpless again. He'd sooner die.

He’d be expected to stay with his cargo, to deliver it personally to Ozai, and expectation and mandation were largely interchangeable words as far as the Cardinal was concerned. Much as he wanted to, he couldn’t go to Mai- not yet. Not without causing far more harm than if he’d done nothing at all.

It was all so unfair. Stronger and faster than he could ever hoped to have been as a mortal man- and he was still powerless before the whims of his elders. What a grotesquely familiar feeling- he was extremely sick of it. All the more so without the veil of the blood bond to mask over the evil of this place… mask the evil in his own life.

He ground his teeth. The boat moved too slowly- he was half tempted to swim to shore on his own.

The myths surrounding Salubri mysticism weren’t mere legend: Aang had somehow lifted the Vaulderie from his blood. Apparently with ease- a three-eyed miracle delivered in an iron casket. What bizarre paths life led him down.

He didn’t know the details of Aang’s plan, despite his best efforts, the Elder had been unforthcoming about how he planned to engage Ozai. All he asked of Zuko was that his cage be unlocked and unguarded before midnight tomorrow- and preferably at sundown.

Zuko drew in a long breath, letting it out slowly. If his heart needed to beat it would be thundering.

What Aang was asking was not a small request. An elder of his stature was a serious prize for Ozai, not to mention that he'd be the curiosity centerpiece for every dignitary and lackey in town for the Blood Feast. He'd have eyes on him, or at least on his makeshift prison, constantly. To uphold his end of the deal Zuko would have to be at his best, and very lucky even then.

As powerful as Aang seemed, Zuko was certain he couldn't realistically challenge the Cardinal in the heart of his territory. If he could offer them freedom it was a risk that needed to be taken.

The thought gnawed at him.

The right thing to do would be to stand by Aang and make certain Ozai was defeated... or die trying. Zuko wasn’t planning on taking either option. Maybe Aang would win, maybe he would lose- what mattered to Zuko was that he, Mai, Azula, and Ty Lee were long gone from this place and as close to free as they could be till any lingering vaulderie faded from the ghouls- unless he could convince Aang to free them as well, but Zuko wasn’t about to waste time he could use running. With any luck they’d be able to disappear and return to Asia- or at least make it to North America and lay low for a few decades.

Once, Zuko would never have even considered running.

He was wiser now.

He had too much to lose.

And if he fought Ozai now he would certainly lose everything. Even if Azula was able to fight her sire properly, even if he had no other kindred to call upon, it wasn’t a fight they could win. Not without having an ace up their sleeve.

Wouldn’t Aang be that ace? Isn’t running the cowards way out? You know what you’re doing is wrong. Whispered the voice in his head, the one that calls for true freedom and the death of tyrants.

He brutally crushed it. This wasn’t about him or his honor or his personal validation. Not about his self worth or his sense of right and wrong. This was about his family. He’d risk his own life. But he couldn’t risk theirs.

His thoughts turned to their escape options.

Tempting as Carlos’ joking offer as a getaway ship had been, Zuko knew he couldn’t trust him. Not without taking a colossally unwise risk. They worked well together, under certain circumstances they might even count as friends, but he was Lasombra and his loyalties ultimately lay with them. Zuko trusted exactly one Lasombra- and apparently the feeling wasn’t even mutual considering how his sister still told him nothing, so how much could that even count.

No, trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, sailing away was out of the question.

Instead, he planned to use his sister's abilities in conjunction with his own to flee north along the coast- they could travel during the day if they paid for carts and coffins at the next village. South or North, he didn’t much care, so long as they put as much ground between themselves and the Cardinal’s power. North had more options for going to ground if they could just make it past Central America- but he had no interest in getting any closer to the heart of the Sabbat in Mexico City. Maybe they could cross the Caribbean...

He rolled his shoulders, struggling to keep his anxieties from affecting his demeanor: The details weren’t important yet. Away was a good enough direction for him.

He just needed to convince Azula.

Zuko preemptively rolled his eyes.

Much as it irked him to admit, she was a far better schemer- he had no doubt if they were properly united they could accomplish great things. The trouble would be uniting them. It would be a difficult enough feat if her mind was fully her own, which of course it wasn’t. Not yet.

To even start the conversation he’d first need to free Aang of his cage so he could break the Vaulderie, not to mention the blood bond Ozai probably still maintained over her. Maybe he could get her to visit Aang with him tonight- that way Aang could free her and they would have at least a few moments tonight and tomorrow evening to plan their next move before releasing Aang and fleeing.

Azula - 1909, São Laivo

Empty. Shifting. Hungry. Alive.

The dark slithered over her like ocean waves, eroding her tether to reality like sand beneath her feet. Every lingering human instinct screamed in panic. Even the Beast recoiled from the yawning maw of the abyss, the endless depths it promised if she but lost her footing...

That much was familiar, Obtenebration was never benign, ut tonight the darkness was… close. It hummed. Buzzed. Like grains of sand dancing on vibrating metal. Empty, yet all the more oppressive.

Azula did not fight the current. She steadied herself against the draw, steadily pulling herself back to consciousness with careful steps, one after the other.

She should have felt empowered- Obtenebration came more naturally tonight than it ever had; calling tendrils from the blackness was as effortless as breathing. If this were another discipline, fortitude or potence or celerity, she surely would have reveled in it. But Obtenebration was different. The dark wasn't summoned. It was already there. Waiting. Impatient- or at the very least, curious.

Her skin crawled: the timing was too convenient.

Darkness had its natural cycles; waxing and waning with the sun, the moon, the distant draw of the stars and planets. Tomorrow night would bring a new moon, and the dark waves would lap more forcefully agains the foundations of the world... but even taking that into account the Abyss's stirring tonight was abnormally turbulent. She'd never felt it move on this scale before, like a dark tide stirred by an unseen hand.

Or a great presence shifting somewhere beneath the surface.

For all her meditations on the nothing, the cause remained unknown and that, more than anything, chilled her. She held out hope that a particularly powerful Lasombra, perhaps a group of them, were drawing upon the Abyss for some unknown reason. And that they had failed, rudely, to inform her. But it was a faint hope, dwindling by the moment. She had the terrible feeling that something was coming. Something tremendous. And it deeply unsettled her that she had no concept of what it could be.

A truth downplayed but oft repeated in the Lasombra's oldest teachings rose in her mind:

The Lasombra do not command the Abyss. They merely guide its attention.

Which was a roundabout way of saying that when the Abyss stirs of its own accord, the wise do not stand in awe: they run. She felt like a child called down to the beach to see the ocean drawing back, just before the tsunami arrived and swept them all away.

When she opened her eyes, the shadows clung to her skin like wet silk: dripping, pooling, flowing like they had physical substance. As solid and weighty as water- something had to be influencing them, this level of upwelling couldn't be natural.

Loathe as she was to admit it: she was out of her depth.

She had to speak with Ozai as soon as she could afford to- after she greeted her brother at the gate and ensured he had the package. And after she spoke with the several dozen servants, dignitaries, guests and who knew what else squabbled for her attention. She didn't let herself dwell on just how excited she was at the prospect of never having to deal with any of it again after tomorrow night...

But she was getting ahead of herself.

She rose, striding across her empty room.

After two (very pleasant) night's of recovery she'd sent Ty Lee back to her dormitory with Mai, loathe as she was to let her eyes off either of them; she couldn’t afford to show blatant favoritism, treading that line was hard enough under normal circumstances. There were too many moving parts, she couldn’t draw any more attention than she had to, now more than ever.

Which made it all the more galling that she had to seek out the only Lasombra in the country she had to abjectly humble herself before. But she couldn’t escape it.

Either this "dark tide" was Ozai’s doing and she would be expected to comment on it, or it wasn’t and she needed to know as much as possible. She hoped her sire was in a sharing mood.

Zuko

Zuko's mind continued to spin the entire way to the mansion, in stark contrast to the wagon wheels which seemed to barely rattle along as he slowly kept pace over the rooftops. Though they received many curious stares, for the streets were abnormally busy, his guard proved unnecessary and the cargo reached the compound without incident.

Surprisingly, Cardinal Ozai was nowhere to be seen, only his retainers present to greet them. Zuko was pleased to see his sister among them- less so that she seemed quite integral to their operation of moving the casket into the church catacombs for safekeeping. It was hard enough to get her on her own without her leading a pack of cronies.

“Sister!”

Azula gave him a distracted glance as he materialized beside her, not batting an eye even as her minions recoiled in shock, “Welcome home brother, I trust you were able to complete your errand without issue?”

He frowned at the pointed question, its double entendre not lost on him. Her air was relaxed but he could see the intensity lurking behind her eyes as she stepped close to plant a kiss on his cheek. He deftly handed her the parcel with Zahida's trinket and she took it without comment, her eyes already sliding off him as she withdrew. It stung a little to be brushed off so easily once his task was complete- not that he was expecting the royal treatment but she could have spent more than a dozen words on him. Maybe that was unfair but he couldn't help feeling discarded. Azula played her public role so easily -and so well- it could be difficult to know when she was acting and when she was being serious.

Now that he had a moment to watch her up close though- she did seem distracted. Most people wouldn't be able to tell but she was his sister, he'd spent nearly the past 70 years in her company. The thought was somewhat assuring: as cold as she could feel sometimes, Azula ultimately had his best interests at heart. She just had quirks that drove him up the wall sometimes- he could accept that. They'd only be able to speak plainly once they were alone.

Her arm never rose from where it held the parcel to her side, hidden beneath a rather large ledger she made a show of gesturing to whenever anyone tried to get her attention.

She must really need whatever this thing was. His curiosity was intense- but she had a point: he had to make his report to the Cardinal.

He caught her attention as she turned to address another servant, “I’ll regale you of the high seas later?”

“Please do- perhaps we’ll have time after you have our guest settled? Meet me in my chambers.”

"Certainly, best not to keep the Cardinal waiting."

"What do you mean indisposed?"

Zhao smirked like he was personally gratified to be causing Zuko an inconvenience, "I mean: the Cardinal is indisposed at the moment, you'll have to give your report tomorrow evening."

"Is the Cardinal aware of what I am delivering? Of who I am delivering to him?"

Zhao's face twisted in a sneer, "You assume your own self-importance Zuko, the Cardinal has many things that require his attention. Is it such a surprise your little errand might be the least? Run along now and play with your sister's slaves- while you can."

"What does that mean Zhao?" Zuko replied acidly, distantly aware of his fingers digging into the stone plinth they'd set Aang's coffin on.

The taller man turned on his heel, smugly calling over his shoulder, "Just that the blood feast always has casualties among the servants- would be a shame you didn't make time for your favorites before you lose them."

Zuko very nearly launched himself onto the man but he wasn't sure he could stop himself from tearing his head clean off. Especially since with Zhao, Ventrue bastard that he was, he'd actually have to try. Might be worth a shot though-

Unfortunately, the moment -and Zhao- left while he was wrestling with his better judgement, leaving Zuko alone with Aang's casket. And the seven other kindred stationed at the doors as guards. Whatever petty nonsense Zhao was trying to peddle to him, Ozai clearly took this prisoner seriously. So why isn't he here personally?

He glanced at the coffin, sure Aang’s all-seeing eyes were watching him through the metal. Zuko turned and left the chamber.

Aggravating as Zhao was: so far, so good... other than the guards. Zuko had a few ideas for distractions involving fire, and who knew what Aang was capable of. Once the elder was free the game changed and it became a much more fair fight. One he intended to be a part of for as brief a time as he could manage.

Zuko made his way to the surface quickly, eager to meet with his sister before sunrise. Their fortunes had changed so quickly, he was uncomfortable being the only member of their group in the know. He'd nearly made it to her chambers before a servant waylaid him.

“Pardon me Señor, your lady sister sends her regrets but says she will not be able to attend your meeting tonight due to the upcoming feast taking her full attention.”

"What? But she-" Zuko clenched and unclenched his jaw, finally nodding mutely to dismiss the servant.

His earlier feeling of being used returned in force. Even if Azula did have good intentions, he was an equal. Not some lackey she could order about wherever and whenever she wanted. He dragged his nails through his hair, struggling to control his frustration from boiling over. He'd have to find Azula first thing tomorrow then... unless he could pass a message through Mai? He rubbed his eyes; too risky. Ghoul's were only as secure as their minds- which is to say, not very. Too many Kindred could bend them to their will. The thought made him queasy. 

He'd just have to improvise in the evening.

Azula

She passed other Lasombra on her short trip to Ozai’s throne room, each of whom did little to put her worries to rest: for a clan known for their subtle manipulations their collective uncertainty was palpable. All who took notice of her waylaid her. She deflected and assuaged fears with a knowing smile and an enigmatic word, evading each encounter with as much speed as she could manage. She had no time for any of them tonight, and it didn’t much matter what they thought about her after tomorrow.

She announced herself to the throne room, speaking as politely as possible when one was definitionally barging in, “Your eminence: I seek counsel.”

"Lady Azula, please, you need not be so formal- I am but a humble templar." Said the room's only occupant, from where he perched on the Cardinal's throne- a man who was certainly not the Cardinal. He wore an anachronistic industrial outfit, speaking to their owners origin- and his lack of imagination, given that it hadn't changed in the hundred or so years since he'd been turned.

"Zhao." Azula's eyes widened in surprise and she smiled pleasantly, even as her beast snarled behind her veneer, "I was expecting the Cardinal." She didn't comment on the blatant trespass of sitting on Ozai's throne but fully intended to inform her sire as soon as she could- not that it would matter for long. Hm... in fact, maybe this could be an opportunity to settle a personal vendetta. If it failed, for whatever reason, she had a clear motive in his disrespect for the throne.

"I am afraid his emminence is preoccupied with arrangements for the feast- greeting critically important dignitaries I am told. For now you'll just have to make due with me."

Ah, no protection then, excellent.

At one point in her life she probably would have admired Zhao's ambition and decisiveness, if little else. The man had all the guile of a sledgehammer- a sledgehammer that would stab you in the back if it could.

More besides, if it came down to a duel of wits between the two, she'd be more inclined to bet on the sledgehammer.

“That will not suffice I'm afraid-" Azula cast about the room, taking advantage of the dark tide to feel out her surroundings for any hidden surprises. She found none, the discovery eliciting a spark of sadistic joy, "-his Eminence tasked me with transporting some last minute arrivals for tomorrow's feast and I must speak with him posthaste. Where is he?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. Surely I could assist you in the meantime though? We haven't much time till sunrise-"

Zhao tilted his head in a mockery of sympathy, having risen from the seat and taking confident strides toward her across the chamber. Were she still human she would be nervous- Zhao was not the kind of man to be caught alone with, and he towered over her both in stature and age.

As it happened, she couldn't be bothered to play these dominance games with one of her sire's peons (and especially this peon). The ongoing rip-tide of darkness surging beneath the skein of reality had her more than a little distracted, so it was with less grace than she would have liked that she curled her hand up in a fist and tore open the abyss beneath Zhao's feet. He made a satisfying yelp as he sunk up to his chest in swirling darkness, his smug leer twisting into a furious glare as he reached out to claw at his newfound prison with unnatural strength.

To precisely zero effect: he may as well have been trying to brute-force his way out of quicksand.

"How dare you! I am a templar of the Sabbat-!"

Azula rubbed her nose, wishing she had the time to enjoy this more, "A word to the wise Zhao: not even the other templars care."

"RELEASE M-" Azula felt the pressure of the command flex against her will and she readily obeyed as she opened her fist and Zhao dropped down into the inky void, "EEEeeeeee-!"

The shadows of the floor closed behind him like hungry jaws, cutting off his receding cry. With an effort of will, and no small drain of her own vitae, she pushed him deep. He might get out. Eventually. Cainites were better equipped to escape the Abyss than most creatures. But then again, with the Abyss acting the way it was tonight, maybe not. The thought brought a slow smile to her face.

What she had just done was a terrible betrayal in the eyes of the Sabbat, gratifying as it had been, and even pleading that she was punishing him for his disrespect to the Cardinal was far too great a stretch. Therefore, it would have carried the unacceptable risk of someone finding out- if she had any intent of staying long enough to weather the consequences of her actions.

Dropping Zhao into the Abyss for an indefinite span of time to starve his way to torpor was a pleasant consequence of her plans finally, finally coming to fruition. As much unfinished business as she had with some of the kindred here, she couldn't afford to be as sadistic with the rest of the manor- some beasts were better off put down quickly, before they had the chance to realize what was happening.

Zhao was just unlucky enough to be one of the toothless few she didn't mind dealing with personally. It was especially vindicating after all the old man's leering; particularly for his many thinly veiled advances on her ghouls.

May he starve a thousand years.

Azula gave herself a shake. Enjoyable as that had been, she couldn't afford to count her chickens before they came home to roost: she needed to find Ozai- that much was true. His absence was... unsettling, in light of the dark tide phenomenon. He'd have to be for the blood feast, of course, so worrying about his whereabouts was simply catastrophizing on her part.

But it was hard not to. Too much planning had gone into this. If Ozai wasn't in the mansion when her plan triggered... Stop it. Worrying helps nobody.

She beelined for her room. Sunrise was just beyond the horizon, she could feel it in her bones- not that it matters for me now, she thought gleefully. Her excitement was short-lived, as she found her quarters empty. No sign of Zuko.

"Can't anyone be dependable today?" she muttered to herself, quickly searching the room with her shadow to ensure she was alone, before producing the package she'd recovered from Zuko. She pulled the bone fetish from its pouch, examining it with a critical eye. With a deft movement she sliced open her wrist with her nail, a thin line of vitae beading to the surface which she smeared the talisman with.

She'd find Zuko in a moment. First: she needed to know it worked. If it didn't, things would become much more difficult and infinitely more dangerous for all of them.

Ty Lee

It was a beautiful morning, the red sun cresting over the calm sea. She’d been back on her feet for a few days now and she was intent on soaking in the sunlight as much as she could between errands and chores. It was for her own benefit, she often missed the sun. And she knew Azula liked the taste of sunlight.

She may have also been trying to distract herself from the imminent Blood Feast. The town was full of kindred -even more than usual. Sabbat in town for the feast. Sunset tonight would bring literal bloodbaths to São Laivo. Her stomach churned at the memory of past feasts- the stuff of her nightmares for decades.

It was easy enough to let the warm light carry away the horror that danced behind her eyes and let her mind drift back to her mistress. Let the obsessive thoughts of love and adoration drag her mind from spiraling into dread and depression. Zula wouldn’t be free much tomorrow- but she might be in the mood to spend time together the next night. It was like chasing a carrot on a really long stick… but it was enough. It had to be.

She sighed, staring off into the rising sun for as long as her eyes allowed her before squeezing them shut and turning away. It was a beautiful day… she wished she could spend it with her family. But Mai was too busy with ‘official business’ and obviously Zuko and Azula couldn’t be with her out here. She often thought about how tragic that was- never to see the sun again.

“Buenos Días, Señorita.”

Ty Lee smiled fondly at the voice’ sultry timbre but it quickly turned to a frown as her eyes snapped open. She hadn’t imagined it- but she must have. She turned to her right, searching for the speaker. None were forthcoming until gold eyes opened, shining out of the darkness of a doorway, and Azula’s shape bled out of the shadow.

“Az- Mistress you shouldn’t be out here!” She spared the sun a fearful glance, dancing out of it as if she were the one at risk. She stumbled into the shadow, unadjusted eyes struggling to pick out her mistress. It wasn’t until she was standing before Azula that her thoughts caught up to her, “...how are you out here?”

“Oh I just couldn’t sleep-” She stretched languidly, smugness written in every curve of her body as she ran a hand over Ty Lee's sun-warmed arm appreciatively, “-anxieties over the feast I suppose.”

Ty Lee had one of the rare moments of genuine annoyance with Azula as her own body reacted to the display. The other girl was wearing a thin robe- possibly nothing else. The sight of the loosely tied garment was a sucker punch right to her libido, especially outside in the light of day, that threatened to derail her (rightfully) alarmed thoughts completely. But it also made her irrationally jealous that someone else might see her- she used the emotion to fuel her focus as she spoke her next words.

“Azula!” she grabbed her shoulders and shook her, earning herself a bemused look of surprise. It was a huge breach of kindred etiquette, even between them -especially between them- but Ty Lee didn’t care: Azula should not be this close to daylight and it scared her half to death. She needed Azula to be safe- more than sunlight or life or anything.

“How are you awake? Why are you out here? What if the light-” Azula silenced her with a finger to her lips.

“Everything is under control, Ty Lee, I promise.” She turned the gesture into a stroke of her hair and it felt so nice- even as she continued to glare. Azula sighed, “Who else am I to show off for? Mai is no fun at all.” She frowned, expression frustrated, “And Zuko is still in torpor.”

“Like you should be!”

Azula gave her an annoyed look, “I throw off the shackles of sunsickness and you tell me to go back to bed. Perhaps it was a misjudgment to visit you.”

Ty Lee tried not to show how painful the rebuke was, she swallowed and set her jaw. Azula held her gaze, annoyance slowly giving way to a soft smile that made her heart melt. She stroked her cheek and Ty Lee couldn’t not lean into it, “You’re right, of course. My dearest friend..." She tilted her head, not seeming satisfied with the words as she edged a little closer, lips pursed in thought, "My most loyal companion?” She leaned in right next to Ty Lee's ear and whispered something that made her blush scarlet red.

"M-Mistress!"

"You're right, let's have some privacy."

The shadow they stood in deepened and the sounds of the town grew muffled and distorted. Ty Lee recognized the effect; Azula was pulling the shadow to hide and silence them. It was both a great disappointment and a huge relief when her mistress took a step back to a less intimate distance, teasing expression giving way to something more businesslike.

“Some Lasombra are said to be able to blot out the sun itself for a time.” She held her hand beside the light of the quickly rising sun, and Ty Lee squirmed, but she didn’t reach into it -thank goodness- “I am not one of them. Not yet.” She smirked and Ty Lee gently pulled her hand back from the deadly sunlight.

“For now I can’t bring quite that much of the Abyss to bear. I had to bargain for my early rising, this time. It should be affecting Zuko as well but we had… delays, and the lazy lout is still in torpor. The charm should be waking him up any moment but he might also need a few good kicks. He's always been a late sleeper.”

“But… why?” She hurried on at the return of Azula’s annoyed look, “I mean it’s great and all that you can wake up in the day if you want but why did you need to bargain?” She frowned, “What did you bargain with?”

Azula waved off the latter question, “Favor for a favor, just one of the trivialities of rulership.” She flashed a dangerous smile, “I have a little plan for us. You, me, Mai, Zuko… it’s been so long since the four of us traveled anywhere, don’t you think? Just us?”

“Just us?” Hope stirred in Ty Lee’s chest, “You mean…" She didn't dare believe it, it was too good to be true, "...we’re leaving?”

Azula smiled, “Before the blood feast. I don’t want you or Mai there. Or Zuko for that matter.”

Ty Lee’s eyes widened, “Today? We’re leaving today!?”

Azula shushed her again, “Yes, pet. We’ll slip away during the day and all will be none the wiser.”

Ty Lee was smiling wider than she had in years, “Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!"

She was lightheaded with joy, skin prickling ecstatically. Azula caught her arm, pulling her back from breaking into a sprint for the mansion, chuckling fondly, "hold on: my way's faster."

Fortunately Ty Lee didn't have enough time to really appreciate what was happening till she was already being drawn into the darkness. It only lasted a moment, thank goodness, the sunny day swallowed up by the boundless nothing and just as quickly coalescing into Azula's dimly lit quarters.

Ty Lee shuddered. The darkness was very mysterious and seductive when Azula used it because Azula was safety and love and wouldn't ever hurt her (too badly). But it was horrible to travel through. Like drowning in an ocean of oil. Up and down stopped meaning anything. She struggled not to dry heave as her stomach did flips.

Mai could sometimes make her shadow do things for her if she tried, it could be really scary when she wanted it to be. Ty Lee would never be able to do that. She didn't really think that the shadows were Mai's friends -or even Azula's friends- but they definitely weren't Ty Lee's.

"Come along now pet, let's see if you have better luck waking brother dearest while I track down Mai... I'm sure she'll have the best luck rousing him out of us three."

Ty Lee giggled, head full of feathers again almost immediately. They were getting out! They were all getting OUT! They'd be free and could do whatever they wanted! Well, whatever Azula and Zuko wanted- but that wouldn't be bad at all!

Azula trailed off and her head tilted. Ty Lee frowned as moment's passed, "Do you hear something?"

She blinked and slowly shook her head, "No... something... something's pushing against the dark..." her expression hardened, all whimsy gone from her voice, "Wake up Zuko, I'll get Mai. Go now."

Ty Lee rushed through the door as Azula bled back into the shadow. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, joy eclipsed by sudden terror. 'something's pushing against the dark', what does that even mean!?

She nearly dropped the key as she wrestled it into Zuko's door, barging in and rushing to his bed, "Zuko! Zuko wake up!"

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. Without the blush of life he looked entirely too corpse-like for Ty Lee's liking. Zula somehow always managed to look beautiful to her, even in torpor, but it was always upsetting seeing them like that. Too still. Too... dead.

Somewhere in the distance there was a faint pop, followed by a high pitched whistling sound. Ty Lee paused in her shaking. What was-?

Her thought was interrupted by the crack of an explosion and a rain of dust from the ceiling.