Having gone their separate ways with the closure of the Academy for the summer holiday, the two occupants of Piandao House Room 44 exchanged letters relentlessly throughout the recess. All the members of Form 4 kept in touch with each other, just as the school's administrators hoped would be the case when they set out to make each form a coherent, family-like unit, but Karana and Azana took their correspondence to new and heroic lengths.

Karana's letters, so fat they threatened to burst the seams of mortal envelopes and had to be fitted with so much postage they could have been the starting point for a respectable Southern Water Tribe stamp collection, were packed with cheerful news of the goings-on in the South Pole community where she lived. There were the romantic misadventures of her elder brother Atausiq, who was just reaching that age where a boy starts thinking about selecting a mate, but is ill-equipped both mentally and spiritually to undertake the project; the comings and goings of the area's various notables, none of whom Azana had ever heard of; her own adventures, helping her physician father operate their hometown's only medical practice, hunting the game of the frozen wilderness with her mother, teasing her bookish younger brother Bori.

Azana's were less action-packed, and seemed to consist mainly of lists of books she'd read, performances she'd seen at the Shu Jing Opera House, and chores performed. The highlight came in mid-summer, when she spent two weeks in the house of her maternal grandfather, a retired United Forces admiral who now operated a firebending school in Republic City. Despite Azana's manifold differences with her mother, her love and respect for that difficult lady's father were obvious from the way she wrote of him in her letters. He was the one who had recognized her as a firebender and trained her in the art, and her admiration for his skill and reverence for his wisdom all but jumped off the pages of the letters she wrote from his home.

When Form 4 reconvened at Piandao Academy in the last week of August, they were all present and accounted for. They spent the weekend between move-in day and the first of classes gathering in common areas and each other's rooms, happily, noisily catching up on developments. After a cheerful reunion (jubilant on Karana's part, somewhat more reserved but heartfelt on Azana's), the girls of Room 44 resumed their easy, companionable ways as if the interruption of the summer holiday had never happened.

They might have gone on like that indefinitely, bumping along as best school chums of a relatively ordinary stripe, eventually graduating and going their separate ways with fond memories and occasional letters; until, in early October, came the storm.

Xinqisan, Shiyue 6, 280 ASC
Wednesday, October 6, SY 2399

The first indication that anything was unusual was Prince Shinzen's attire.

Normally, like everyone else at Piandao Academy (apart from the occasional guest lecturers), he wore the academy's standard uniform, black and red, with bits of gold trim and the Fire Nation's distinctive stylistic flavoring. The clothes he turned up for first period wearing that day were similarly colored and largely the same in theme, but much more elaborate and ornate, with a lot more gold and even a few bits of lightweight, purely decorative armor. The outfit looked more like a military uniform than anything one would wear at a school, even one as solemnly conscious of its role as the Academy. It didn't have the Academy seal on it anywhere, either, but featured a prominent Fire Nation insignia at the closure of the jacket's high collar.

The prince's classmates regarded him curiously throughout the morning classes, but no one had the time or opportunity to ask him about it until lunchtime, when Karana and Azana noticed him leaving the great hall by the front door instead of heading for the refectory.

"Hey! Shinzen!" Karana called to him. "Where are you going all dressed up like that?" she wondered.

Shinzen's expression was uncharacteristically solemn as he replied, "One of my uncle's former generals, who retired to Shu Jing, has died. As the nearest member of the royal family, I have to go and pay our respects at his funeral."

"Oh," said Karana. "That's too bad. I - wait." She blinked and turned to Azana, a look of dawning alarm on her face. "Is there more than one retired Fire Army general in Shu Jing?"

Azana's face, not very ruddy to begin with, had gone almost white. "... I don't think so," she said quietly. Then, with a mumbled apology, she turned and all but ran for the west stairs.

"Where's she going?" Shinzen wondered, puzzlement plain on his face.

Karana watched her roommate disappear up the stairs, then turned to the prince and said, "The general. Do you know his name?"

Shinzen transferred his puzzled look to her. "What?"

With an exasperated sound, Karana grabbed his shoulder and gave him a little shake. "His name," she said intently, staring him in the eye. "Do you know it."

Visibly clueless as to why it could matter to her, he frowned and said, "Izuno. Why?"

Karana's face fell. "Aw, no," she murmured, looking back at the empty stairs.

"I don't understand," Shinzen admitted.

Rounding on him again, Karana snapped in exasperation, "She's his daughter, you idiot."

Few people, even now, could have gotten away with addressing Prince Shinzen in that fashion, but after their original contretemps the previous fall, which had broken the ice between Shinzen and the entirety of Form 4, Karana was one who could; he let the insult pass altogether and gave her a wide-eyed, horrified look.

"Oh," he said, then went on a little plaintively, "I... I didn't know."

Karana glared at him for a moment longer, then sighed and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder she'd shaken before. "I know you didn't," she said.

Shinzen still looked confused. After a moment's thought, he asked, "But why didn't she know already? That he had died, I mean. The news had to make its way through the High Command, to the Ministry of War, up to my uncle before I was ever told. It can't just have happened today. It doesn't make sense."

"I don't know, but you'd better go," Karana told him. "You don't want to be late."

The prince gave her a troubled look and seemed on the verge of demurring, but the official vehicle was waiting; this was a matter of state, his attendance a direct command from his uncle the Fire Lord. He went reluctantly, his expression apologetic. Karana watched him go, making sure he didn't turn back partway across the courtyard, and then turned and ran upstairs.

She navigated the maze to Room 44 in record time, bursting through the door to find Azana just in the act of hanging up the telephone on Karana's desk. With that done, she threw herself face-down on Karana's bed and lay there, clutching her roommate's stuffed polar bear dog, her slim body wracked with sobs. Karana crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, her hand on Azana's back, and remained silent, letting her get the worst of it out. The sight of her best friend in this state rattled her; Azana was usually so cool, so collected, so in command of her emotions, that to see her completely broken down this way was shocking even when she knew the cause.

Karana knew she was lucky. She didn't have a favorite parent; she was very close to both her mother and her father, considering them among her best friends in the world. With her father, she shared a certain intellectual vibe, a love of learning and literature; with her mother, a delight in bodily vigor and physical pursuits. By contrast, sometimes it seemed like the only things Azana shared with her mother were her slim, black-haired good looks, her talent for firebending, and a certain coolness of tone that crept into both of their voices when they were annoyed.

Everything else, from her own love of books and knowledge, to her subtle sense of humor, to her quiet kindness, she could trace to her beloved father. General Izuno's only fault, so far as Karana had ever been able to tell, was that he was so devoted to having peace in his house that he rarely made any serious attempt to rein in his abrasive, opinionated, and often (in Karana's view, anyway) wrong-headed young wife, with the result that Azera often ran roughshod over him and their only daughter.

Karana had met the old gentleman only once, and had liked him very much, apart from feeling that he really ought to stand up for himself and Azana a bit more. She didn't know exactly how old he was, only that he was much older than Azera, who was his second wife. Old enough that he was retired from the Fire Army, and had been for most of Azana's life; she had only dim memories of his last months of active duty.

And now, evidently, he was gone.

Azana cried hard for five solid minutes, then seemed to pull herself together with an exercise of will. Turning onto her back with one arm still around the stuffed dog, she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and mumbled an apology.

"Hey, no, you've got nothing to be sorry for," said Karana, taking her free hand. "Nothing at all."

"That was Mother I was getting off the phone with when you arrived," said Azana softly, her red-rimmed amber eyes gazing blankly up at the intricate plasterwork on the room's high ceiling. "She's very upset."

"Well, I can imagine," Karana began, trying to be as sympathetic as she could. She didn't like Azera very much, but the woman had just been widowed, after all; but then Azana went on in the same subdued, matter-of-fact tone,

"I wasn't supposed to find out until Fall Interval. She's a bit cross with the Fire Lord for notifying Shinzen. And herself, I suspect, for forgetting he was here."

"... Oh," said Karana lamely. The awkward feeling passed quickly, however, replaced by a surge of anger as it registered on her what Azana had just said: that her mother had not intended for her to learn of her father's passing for three weeks. How cold was that?

"Ouch," said Azana quietly. Karana glanced down and saw that she'd inadvertently clenched her fist on her roommate's hand in her sudden fury; hastily she released it.

"Sorry," Karana mumbled. "I just... spirits, that's cold." She shook herself slightly, then tried to push through it by saying briskly, "Well, c'mon. Better get ready for the funeral - "

"I'm not going," Azana interrupted her.

Karana blinked. "What?"

"Mother refused to request a pass for me to leave the grounds from Headmaster Changdao," Azana explained. She turned on her side, her back to Karana, so she could gaze out of the window. "It appears I'm not invited."

Karana rose to her feet, so astounded that for a moment she could only sputter and blink. "Wh - but - y - no." She shook her head. "No. That is UN, ac, frickin', ceptable." She put a hand on Azana's shoulder. "Come on, get up. We'll ask him ourselves."

Azana let herself be rolled onto her back, but made no move to get up. "Have you read the handbook?" she asked without rancor. "Without Mother's permission, he can do nothing about it."

"Then we'll go without asking him," Karana shot back. "This isn't a prison. Azana," she said pleadingly as her roommate made to roll toward the window again. "Don't just tune me out like that. This is, this is important." She knelt down by the bed and put her hands on Azana's upper shoulder. "This is your father's funeral. I know how you feel about him. I know how I'd feel if my dad died. You'll hate yourself forever if you just let it go by." She shook her head. "I can't let that happen. Please, Azana."

Silence; but then, slowly, Azana turned over, sat up, and swung her feet off the edge of the bed.

"All right," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "Let's go."

The grounds of Piandao Academy were far from fortified, but they were fenced, and normally students seeking to leave the premises had to pass through the front gate. This stood open during the day, but the caretaker, old Fat, was usually somewhere in the vicinity, on the lookout for anyone who might be trying to skip out on a class or activity and go into town without authorization.

A metalbender would have had no trouble enlarging any of the gaps between the fence's wrought-iron uprights and slipping out that way, but unfortunately there were none in the student body at present; no earthbenders at all, in fact, which had disappointed Karana when she learned it, the previous year. She, Azana, and Prince Shinzen were the only benders among the present students, which had struck her as a bit of a sorry showing until Azana reminded her that the usual bender-nonbender ratio was about one in a hundred; so three out of ninety-eight was already something of a statistical anomaly, particularly as they were all three in the same form of fourteen.

None of which got them any closer to the other side of the fence... except for the turtleduck pond out in back of the greenhouses. Screened by those outbuildings from the main building and the front gate, and just near enough to the fence, it provided all the raw materials an enterprising and talented young waterbender needed to provide an ice ramp up one side and down the other. The hard part was putting the water back in the pond from the far side of the fence, the better to delay discovery of their escape.

"If we do this," Azana observed before they departed, "we'll probably be expelled."

"And if we don't, we'll regret it for the rest of our lives," Karana replied. "You for not going, and me for not making you."

"You don't have to come with me," Azana pointed out.

"Yeah, I do," Karana replied. "C'mon. We'll be late as it is."

They ran across fields and meadows, jumping fences and ditches, following Azana's lead toward the Shu Jing cemetery. This was a distance of about a mile from Piandao Academy, and fortunately, mostly downhill. Two athletic twelve-year-olds had no particular difficulty making the trip in good time, even considering their need to arrive in less than completely bedraggled condition.

At the cemetery's edge they stopped for a moment, caught their breath, and composed themselves, buttoning up their uniform tunics and tidying each other as best they could. Azana took her hair down from its accustomed bun, combed it quickly out with a pocket comb, and then bound it up into a more elaborate, formal folded knot, higher on the back of her head. There wasn't much to be done with Karana's shorter, coarser hair, but she at least was able to borrow Azana's comb and wrangle it into a reasonably tidy center-parted pageboy. Then, with one last long look at each other and a silent, shared nod, they turned and entered the grounds.

The funeral wasn't hard to find; it was the only one happening in the cemetery that day, and Azana knew well where her father's family's cenotaph was, having visited the markers of his parents with him on a few occasions. It was a fairly small gathering. Apart from his wife and daughter, and a son from his previous marriage, General Izuno had no surviving relatives. His funeral was attended only by his widow, a few close friends (both from his army days and his retirement years), Prince Shinzen, and an honor guard from the Fire Army fort in nearby Jang Hui, which included the Fire Sage chaplain performing the service.

As she and Azana approached the gathering, Karana could see that they weren't too late: the chaplain was still making her opening remarks. General Izuno's body, decked out in the dress uniform he had worn every year on Remembrance Day and at no other time, still lay atop the bier, his pyre yet unlit.

They made a little bit of a stir, two young girls in their school uniforms - one an obvious foreigner - arriving on foot in the midst of the service. At the sight of them, the chaplain faltered, looking surprised. Several of the general's friends recognized his daughter and glanced at each other, as if startled to realize that she hadn't been present all along.

Because they had arrived from behind and slightly to the left of her, Azera didn't notice them at first, until the reactions of the other guests tipped her off. Turning, she recoiled in shock, but before she could speak, one of the uniformed Fire Army officers - a tall, greying man with a fairly impressive salad of decorations on his chest and the collar tabs of a colonel - smiled sadly at them and made the fire salute.

"Azana," he said. "I'm so glad you could make it after all."

"Thank you, Zurin," she said cordially, returning the salute. Then, turning to the chaplain, she bowed to her as well, saying, "I apologize for my tardiness, rōshi, as well as for my inappropriate dress. I had - " (here she gave her mother the tiniest of sharp glances) " - very little notice."

The Fire Sage nodded understanding, and without saying another word about it, she resumed the service while Azana and Karana took up places next to the man who had first greeted them.

Karana had never been to a Fire Nation funeral before; it wasn't that different from the way they did it at the South Pole, except that they'd have done it on the beach and the bier would have been in a boat. The words were different too, and mostly in Kokugo, which she didn't understand. She maintained a respectful silence and kept still, figuring she was least likely to commit an offensive faux pas by accident if she just didn't move or speak. Luckily, there didn't seem to be any places in the ceremony where those attending were expected to do either.

After the Fire Sage's benediction, various of the general's friends and colleagues spoke, in fond and glowing terms, of his intersections with their lives. He had, if these people were to be credited, been a well-loved officer in his day, responsible for making the careers of many talented officers in their turn, and most of those here felt they owed him their chances to excel in the Fire Lord's service. During these remarks, she learned that Colonel Zurin was Izuno's son by his first wife, and so Azana's half-brother, albeit a good thirty years or more her senior.

Azera, she noticed, said nothing. When her turn came to speak, she just dabbed at her eyes and made a deferring gesture to the chaplain, apparently too overwhelmed to say anything. Karana caught herself wondering cynically whether she were really so broken up as to be speechless, or simply didn't have anything to say, and then chided herself for her coldheartedness.

Azana spoke last; her voice was quiet, but controlled, as she told those assembled of her love for her father, recounting a couple of anecdotes from her childhood, one of which Karana hadn't heard before. Then it was over, and the chaplain was talking in Kokugo again, saying what sounded unmistakably like final remarks.

When she'd finished, she turned to Prince Shinzen and bowed to him, saying, "Your Highness, if you would... "

Shinzen looked across the gathering at his schoolmates, then shook his head respectfully and replied, "I hardly think that would be appropriate, rōshi. General Izuno's daughter is a firebender. The honor, and the duty, are rightfully hers."

Azana looked surprised, then grateful, as the Fire Sage turned to her and repeated the gesture. Moving slowly, she stepped forward, squared herself before her father's bier, and stood for a moment to collect her thoughts.

Then, with a single sharp kiai, she struck a letter-perfect firebender's stance and launched a bolt of flame into the base of the structure, igniting the kindling meticulously stacked there. Within moments the whole thing was engulfed, and General Izuno's funeral pyre blazed into the sky, committing the old soldier's body back to the eternal flame.

Azera held herself aloof from the rest of the group, observing a widow's dignity, until the fire had burned down and the group had begun to disperse, filtering out toward the cemetery gates. As they approached the gates themselves, Karana saw that she was waiting just outside, her face darkening with fury, now that she no longer felt she had to hold it under rigid control for propriety's sake.

Taking Azana's hand, Karana considered their options. There wasn't any other readily evident way out of the cemetery other than past her, and if they diverted along the fence looking for another exit further along, it would be pretty obvious they were just trying to avoid her. On the other hand, she really didn't know whether she could be responsible for her actions if, as she suspected was about to happen, Azera sought to take her daughter to task for having the temerity to attend her own father's funeral.

In the event, they were saved from having to deal with it by the sudden appearance of Prince Shinzen, who seemed almost to materialize at Azana's left, opposite Karana.

"Take my arm," he murmured. Azana gave him a puzzled look, then did as instructed, slipping her left hand into the crook of his right elbow, her other still holding Karana's hand.

As they passed through the gate and drew even with Azera, she fixed her daughter with a wrathful look and opened her mouth to speak, but before any sound could emerge, Prince Shinzen said in a calm and respectful tone,

"I hope you will excuse us, Madame Azera, but the General's daughter has had a very trying day. We must be getting back to the Academy at once." Without a trace of irony, he went on, "I think you'll agree that at this moment, she needs her friends around her."

Azera blinked, her thoughts and anger scattered to the breeze by the shock of being addressed so pointedly by the prince. "Er... why... yes," she replied. "Yes, of course, Your Highness."

Shinzen inclined his head. "Good day to you, Madame Azera," he said politely. "I'm very sorry for your loss. Please accept my uncle's sincerest condolences as well. General Izuno was a fine officer."

"Ah... thank you," said Azera, and then she stood and watched, utterly at a loss, as the three students walked away.

Once they were well out of earshot, heading back up toward the school by the road this time, Karana said quietly, "OK, I have to admit, that was pretty awesome, Shinzen."

"Thank you," said the prince.

Not a word was said by anyone when they arrived back at the Academy. The three went straight to the Form 4 common room on the ground floor of Piandao House, which had once been Master Piandao's library, and sat quietly with their thoughts until the afternoon classes ended and the rest of their classmates began to arrive. They had plainly heard from somewhere what had happened, and though no one spoke of it, their quietly supportive presence helped Azana bear up until dinnertime.

As they were crossing the great hall toward the stairs after supper, Azana and Karana - still hand in hand - were met by Headmaster Changdao. Before he could even speak, Karana said,

"It's my fault, sir. I made her do it."

Changdao's expression was hard to read at the best of times, but now it was nearly impenetrable, the perfect pai sho face of an accomplished master. He ignored her profession of guilt entirely, focusing instead on Azana, as he said,

"I'm very sorry to hear about your father, Miss Azana. General Izuno was well-loved in this community. If there's anything I, Professor Zhou, or anyone else here can do to help you through this time, please don't hesitate to ask. Professor Zhou has agreed to excuse the two of you from your classes for the rest of the week."

"Th... thank you, Headmaster," said Azana hesitantly. "I... " she trailed off, not sure how to put the next part.

The headmaster smiled, a little sadly, and said only, "A clear oversight on your mother's part. We needn't speak of it again."

"Thank you, sir," said Karana gravely. Unable to make the Water Tribe salute without releasing Azana's hand, she bowed like a Kyoshi Islander instead, her arms at her sides.

"Thank you, Miss Karana," Changdao replied, and she wondered what for as he took his leave of them and disappeared into his office.

In the event, they took Thursday off, but returned to class on Friday, having decided together on Thursday night that there was nothing further to be accomplished, healing-wise, by staying holed up in their room. Better to return to the comforting academic routine, with all their friends around them. Professor Zhou took their appearance for morning classes without comment, apart from a spare, slightly sad little smile and a nod of acknowledgement.

At lunch, Headmaster Changdao appeared at Form Four's table and quietly drew Azana away to his office, indicating to Karana as she started to rise that she should stay where she was. Azana was gone for no more than ten minutes, and seemed quietly preoccupied, but not further distressed, when she reappeared. Karana didn't have a chance to ask her what had happened until that evening, after supper, when they returned to their room to get started on their homework.

"What did the headmaster want to see you about?" she wondered, seating herself at her desk.

Azana sat down on Karana's bed and picked up her roommate's stuffed polar bear dog ("Li'l Naga", according to the tag on its right hindpaw), then replied pensively, "It was Doctor Bulao, Father's solicitor. They read his will this morning."

Karana regarded her thoughtfully. After the events of Wednesday, it didn't surprise her that no one had thought to notify Azana about the reading of her father's will, or invite her to attend it, but Azana didn't seem particularly angry or upset about it - more as though she were trying to take on board some surprising revelation. Karana didn't prompt her, but sat and waited for her to get to it in her own time.

Azana considered her next statement for a few moments, then looked up at her roommate's face and said, "He changed his will last winter. Added a... I can't remember the word. An amendment."

"Codicil?" Karana suggested.

"Yes. That." Azana mulled the matter over for a few seconds more; then, hesitantly, she smiled and said, "I don't know how it works, exactly, but Doctor Bulao says he made it so Mother can't take me out of school."

Karana blinked. "Was she going to?"

"I thought she might," Azana admitted. "You know I was only able to come because Father insisted. With him... gone," she said, her voice quavering faintly, then recovering, "there was the possibility that she would put a stop to it. If nothing else, I expected she would refuse to pay the tuition any longer."

"Headmaster Changdao wouldn't kick you out if she did that," Karana said positively. "My parents could hardly afford this place's normal rates, I'm here on a scholarship. And you're smarter than me," she added with a wry smile.

Azana nodded. "That's probably true," she said, then blushed and added hastily, "About the headmaster, not... the last part." Karana giggled, winking, and gestured for her to go on. "But after all, I'm only 12. She could just withdraw me. She'd have to send me to the state school in town until I'm 15, that's the law, but after that... " She shrugged, still hugging the stuffed dog. "You know how she feels about girls and education."

Karana scowled. "Just because she never bothered getting one herself..." she grumbled, leaving the rest unsaid.

"Yes," Azana agreed glumly. Then, brightening again, she said, "But as I said, Father arranged it so that she can't do that. I don't know how - I think it has something to do with my half-brother Zurin, who you saw at the funeral. He's the executor of Father's estate. There's a trust as well, and some other things, but I wasn't really paying attention by that point," she admitted. "I was so afraid when I went in there that it would be for the headmaster to tell me I had to leave. I nearly fainted when I found out it wasn't that."

Karana all but lunged from her chair, embracing her roommate so vehemently that they both fell over and sprawled on the bed, and Azana was startled to realize that she was actually weeping.

"What's wrong?" she asked, dismayed. "This is good news. ... Isn't it?"

"Of course it is, don't be a dope," Karana blubbered. "That's why I'm crying. Don't you know anything?"

Azana tried to eye her, but she was too close, so she got an arm under her and hugged her back instead, replying with a quiet smile, "I guess I don't."

Then, closing her eyes, she shed a few tears herself, adding silently, Thank you, Father. Your last gift to me... I'll never forget it.

"You'll Hate Yourself Forever" (Part 2 of A Fire to be Lighted), a Future Imperfect/Dìqiú Mini-Serial)
by Benjamin D. Hutchins with Philip Jeremy Moyer
special to the Eyrie Productions Discussion Forum
© 2013 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited

...what the hell is that woman's problem?