Chapter 99. The Third Eye
98 years after the genocide of the Air Nomads.
Somewhere halfway to the capital. Zuko and Azula.
The Fire Lord's children were returning home after nearly a year of training at their Academies. They had passed their exams successfully, and soon they would enjoy several months away from their nagging teachers, which lifted their spirits.
"I can't wait to continue proper training with Master Wan!" Azula chirped, talking more to herself than to Zuko, who was busy polishing his favorite swords.
"I doubt I'll learn anything new. I'd rather focus more on my swordsmanship," he finally replied.
"Are you serious? The teacher tailors our training to our progress. You should open your eyes a little wider and see the techniques I'm already mastering!" Azula wouldn't tolerate any disrespect, especially when it came to anything related to Master Wan.
"Whatever," Zuko muttered. But what couldn't be taken away from him was his polarizing view of things—he tended to exaggerate or downplay the significance of events in his life. His mind simply dismissed anything he didn't like or that didn't fit his patterns of thinking.
The familiar silence settled between them again. Each remained stubbornly in their corner. Over the years they'd spent together, they'd learned that neither could truly understand the other.
The quiet rumble of their carriage wheels was interrupted by a sharp whistle, followed by a powerful impact that sent the cart tumbling onto its left side. Azula and Zuko slammed their heads against the iron roof.
Gasping for breath and groaning in pain, they began to regain consciousness. Everything swam before their eyes, and an unpleasant, incessant ringing filled their ears. On the periphery, they heard the loud voices of their guards.
"Blood," Azula muttered, touching her head. Glancing to the right, she saw a massive dent that had nearly torn apart their reinforced carriage. "Another hit like that, and we won't survive. We need to get out now."