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No air in her lungs.
The terrible, suffocating feeling of fighting for breath, clawing for it, and finding none. Zaheer’s hands moving with cruel precision, cutting off her air, his calm, unyielding face looming over her as her vision blurred.
Chained down.
That strange, metallic poison slithering into her veins like liquid fire, invading her body. Helplessness was the worst feeling of all—worse than the pain, worse than the suffocation.
Absolute fury.
And then, breaking through the haze, Asami’s face — concern etched into her emerald eyes as they hugged tightly before Korra left for Guru Laghima’s Peak. That look of worry, as if she knew she might never see Korra again.
Korra woke with a start, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her hand clutched at her ribs, and for a brief, irrational moment, she expected them to be broken. She expected to be drowning, suffocating again, yet here she was — alive.
She could breathe.
She could breathe.
And yet, she was surprised… almost disappointed.
She clutched her knees to her chest, her whole body trembling as silent tears streaked down her face. The thin blanket tangled around her legs felt like chains, binding her to a world she didn’t want to be in anymore.
The door creaked softly as Naga padded in, her soft whines breaking through Korra’s sobs. The polar bear-dog approached cautiously, her massive white body curling protectively around the bed as she rested her head in Korra’s lap. Korra’s trembling hand reached out, absently stroking Naga’s fur.
She didn’t say anything. Naga didn’t need her to.
* * *
Korra stumbled, her legs weak beneath her, the uneven wooden floor catching her off-balance.
She fell.
Before the pain of impact could register, Naga was there, her warm fur catching Korra before she hit the ground.
Korra leaned against her, burying her face in the soft, familiar comfort of her loyal companion. Her shoulders shook, though no tears came this time. It wasn’t the fall that hurt—it was the weight pressing down on her soul.
Fortunately, Katara wasn’t here to see this. As grateful as Korra was for everything the old healer had done for her, she couldn’t bear the thought of Katara looking at her and seeing Aang in his final days. The memory of losing him must have weighed on Katara’s heart, just as much as this burden weighed on Korra.
But she couldn’t keep relying on her, couldn’t keep relying on anyone. She had to get stronger.
Every evening, Korra pushed herself. She pushed until her body gave out, until she was too exhausted to think or feel or cry. She tried to walk, to bend, to move like she used to. More often than not, it ended with her sprawled on the floor, every muscle screaming in protest.
And every evening, a voice inside her whispered to stop. To lie down and let the pain win. To give up.
But also, every evening a voice inside her head kept telling her to keep trying, keep fighting.
But also, every evening a voice inside her assured her that she was strong enough to get through it.
She expected that voice to sound like Katara’s. Or Tenzin’s. Or her mother’s or father’s.
But it didn’t.
The voice was Asami’s.
* * *
“How are we doing today?” Nara asked, gently pouring power into the healing waters around Korra.
“Ugh…” Korra groaned. “Who knew learning to bend again would be so hard and painful. I felt better after a couple of sessions with Tenzin’s spinning gates.”
Since an epidemic broke out and Katara was sent to assist with it, Korra was assigned a new healer to help with her recovery. Nara was a Water Tribe woman who was born in the Earth Kingdom but moved back to the South Pole when the violence and chaos began threatening to engulf the land. It was from her that Korra learned of the various warlords and petty lordships that began tearing the lands of the nation apart. She knew Nara meant well and that she’d thought that Korra as the Avatar needed to know this but learning how the world was burning while she was unable to help – unable to move – only made it all even more painful.
“I’m sure you can do it,” Nara said. “You just need time. You’re the Avatar. You can do anything.”
What kind of Avatar couldn’t even stand up? Couldn’t fight? Couldn’t help?
“The world needs you, Korra,” Nara said gently, as if sensing her thoughts. “You just need time. You’re stronger than you think.”
But the words felt hollow, even if they were true.
* * *
Dear Korra.
I miss you.
It's not the same in Republic City without you. How are you feeling? Things are going well here. I just got a big contract to help redesign the city's infrastructure, so I'll be keeping pretty busy for a while…
Korra closed her eyes, clutching the letter to her chest as if it were a lifeline. In her mind, she could almost hear Asami’s voice reading the words aloud. Almost feel her presence beside her.
For just a moment, the thought was enough to keep her breathing.
* * *
Korra sat in her chair, sipping tea without really tasting it.
“Whenever you're ready,” Katara said softly.
Korra sighed in response.
“What's the point?” she asked. “We've been at this for almost six months and I can still barely take a couple of steps without collapsing!”
“I know you're frustrated, but—”
“Of course I'm frustrated! A crazy man poisoned me and now I can't dress myself, or cook for myself, o-or do anything for myself! And this whole time, my friends have been off helping the world while I'm stuck with you and you can't even heal me!”
* * *
“I’m sure Katara doesn’t blame you,” Nara said later, as she was gently helping Korra wash herself. Waterbending could only do so much but the woman’s touch was firm but gentle. “It’s natural to be experiencing frustration on your road to recovery. But you just need to keep trying. The world needs the Avatar.”
“Thanks,” Korra muttered.
Nara was nice but as she touched her body, a part of Korra wished that touch belonged to…
* * *
Korra stood at the edge of the cliff, the icy wind biting at her skin as she moved through the motions of her bending forms. Fire, water, air—each movement was deliberate, but clumsy. Her bending wasn’t what it used to be, but at least she was bending again.
The Southern Lights danced above her, their soft glow illuminating the jagged abyss below.
She had stood here many times before, staring down into the endless darkness, wondering if today would be the day she took that final step. The idea used to feel comforting, a way to escape the weight of failure pressing on her chest.
But now, the abyss didn’t call to her the way it once had.
It still whispered, but the whispers were a bit weaker.
A bit.
* * *
“I’ve seen you make quite a good progress!” Nara said the day after Korra managed to do some bending on the cliff.
“Huh, thanks,” Korra muttered, trying to smile.
Nara wanted to reassure her for sure, but managing – barely – to perform the type of bending she was able to do when she was six wasn’t exactly what Korra would call a good progress.
“Soon you’ll be able to get there and show them all what the Avatar can do!” Nara assured her.
Korra gave up her attempts at smiling.
“I… I don’t think…”
“Oh, for sure!” Nara said. “Soon you’d be able to fix the Earth Kingdom! Isn’t that what the Avatar does?”
“Yeah… not anymore,” Korra muttered, turned around and left.
She wanted to storm away but barely had the strength not to fall as she limped away. Fortunately Nara had enough tact not to follow her.
* * *
Dear Korra,
I don’t know if your letters got lost somewhere on the way or if you didn’t have a chance to write. Don’t feel pressured in any way. Your recovery is what’s most important and that’s what you need to focus on. Here at the Republic City things are rather calm. I’ve recently been working on modifying the Harmony Park a bit and…
* * *
Asami’s worried look as she hugged Korra goodbye. But… unlike in reality, the scene in the dream developed in a different way. After they hugged Asami… Asami leaned forward and soon Korra felt her lips touch her own in a kiss both forceful and gentle. She tried to say something but was too shocked to do anything… or maybe that was just an excuse as – in the dream only, of course! – she suddenly realized there was nothing she wanted more in her life than to drown in this kiss…
* * *
“I’m sorry,” Nara said, as she helped Korra get dressed.
Korra didn’t answer.
“I was so pushy… I’m so sorry for that,” Nara kept talking. “Of course you’re supposed to take your time, recovering at your own pace. It’s just… I thought that you needed something to motivate you, something to fight for. I’m so so sorry!”
“It’s… it’s okay,” Korra muttered.
It was. It really was.
At least there was someone out there who believed in her.
Nara’s touch, still gentle, became… more insistent, her fingers sliding up and down Korra’s back. It… it was a strange feeling, one awkward but not entirely unwelcome.
The Water Tribe woman wasn’t a bad looking woman too, Korra suddenly realized. Maybe it was the dream, she had the night before, but it actually crossed her mind to kiss Nara’s lips.
She had a feeling, the woman wouldn’t mind.
She didn’t do it though.
Surely it had nothing to do with the fact that when she imagined herself kissing a woman – strange notion indeed and no, of course she didn’t imagine that often! – the eyes looking back at her were green.
* * *
“I thought I was ready,” Korra muttered.
Her whole body was hurting. The firebenders didn’t go easy on her – not that she wanted to. But the shame of having failed, of having been defeated hurt even more than their blasts did.
“There is no shame in taking the time you need to make a full recovery,” Tenzin said, his voice full of sympathy. “Being the Avatar can wait.”
Can it?, Korra thought, recalling the horror stories about the chaos and devastation in the Earth Kingdom that she’d been hearing from Nara.
“But what about the Earth Kingdom? I hear it's still a mess out there,” she asked.
* * *
“I thought I was ready,” she repeated to Nara later.
The healer opened her eyes wide in shock, before calming herself down.
“So… so you’re not ready to go there?” she asked, her voice trembling. “To fight?”
“Isn’t there Kuvira working to calm things down?” she asked, recalling what Tenzin said to her later.
Didn’t Asami also mention Kuvira in one of her letters?
“Kuvira can’t be trusted!” Nara snapped. “She’s there only to grab power for herself! It should be the Avatar fixing things, not her!”
“I… I don’t think I’m ready yet,” Korra sighed.
“Nara, Korra needs to rest,” Katara said, walking into the room.
Nara almost managed to hide a look of disappointment. She forced herself to smile.
“Of course, Avatar,” she said. “Don’t worry… together we’ll find a way.”
* * *
Barely able to breathe. Weak.
She fell to her knees, trying to catch some air.
Zaheer pulling the air out of her lungs.
Her fighting, desperately fighting…
Except Zaheer wasn’t here and she still couldn’t breathe. Her vision was blurry, her hands shook and as she brought her hand to her nose and pulled it away, she saw it wet with blood.
It was more than just a repeat of her trauma.
It was…
The tea!
Korra managed to turn around to look at the cup. But… but it was Nara who made the team…
“I’m sorry,” Nara said. “I truly am sorry. But that’s the only way. It has to be done.”
Another thought struck Korra. Naga would save her but… but Nara also fed Naga something… and… she looked at Naga and saw her furry friend lying motionless… but breathing.
Nara noticed her gaze.
“I wouldn’t poison her,” she said, gently scolding her. “Just put her to sleep so that she doesn’t disturb us.”
“But…” Korra barely managed to gasp. “Why..?”
“I’ve heard from Katara what happened to you,” Nara said. “How you got poisoned to force you to enter the Avatar state. I thought maybe doing it again would help you. Would help you recover your power. Your will to fight.”
“I… you’re… killing me…” Korra whispered.
“No! I’m sure you’ll find the strength! You’re the Avatar! And if it works… then I hope you’ll let the results speak for themselves and forgive me.”
“It… doesn’t… work… you’re… killing me…”
There was a long silence and then Nara took a deep breath.
“I don’t want it but…” her voice broke for a moment “but if that’s what it takes.”
“What it… takes?” Korra needed all her willpower and focus to force her lips to ask this question.
“The world needs the Avatar while you just… sit here feeling sorry for yourself, not willing to take the risk to try helping others!”
“I…” Korra began but Nara wouldn’t let her finish.
“The Earth Kingdom is burning!” she snapped. “And you won’t lift a finger, finding dumb excuses! I’ve tried to be patient with you but enough is enough! Maybe the Earth Kingdom is lost but if I kill you, a new Avatar could be ready to restore it in ten or eleven years from now, like Aang did! While you… you can live like this, broken and useless for decades more! Robbing the world of the Avatar! How can you be so selfish?!”
“I…” Korra whispered, but she was barely able to focus.
Perhaps Nara was right. Perhaps she was being selfish, clinging to her life, refusing to allow a new, healthy Avatar to take over.
“So this is how it’s going to be,” Nara said. “Either the poison pushes you into the Avatar State and help you regain your powers… or another Avatar takes your place. The world wins in both cases. I’m… I’m really sorry Korra, but I’m doing it for us all. The greater good.”
Korra wanted to say so much. She wanted to tell Nara that it’s not how it works and just as Zaheer’s poison pushed her into the Avatar State but wrecked her body, it was more than likely that this poison would do the same. But most of all, she wanted to tell Nara to take this ‘greater good’ and stuff it.
“No!” she groaned, slowly getting up… only to fall on all fours.
She barely saw Nara sadly shaking her head.
“I’m sorry it has come to this,” the woman said, waterbending a water sphere. “I’ll make it quick. I promise. It’ll be better this way. I promise.”
Perhaps she was right. Perhaps a quick, clean death was better than this… this shadow of a life. Than being locked in this broken body, barely able to do things that once came to her naturally.
It was just said, she would never see her friends and family again.
She’d never see, Tenzin, Pema and their kids. Bolin, Opal and Mako.
Her Mum and Dad.
Nara froze the water sphere and shattered it into three icicles, sending them at Korra.
She’d never see Asami again.
Despite the numbness overwhelming her, Korra acted without thinking, purely on instinct. She rolled on the floor to her left, while making a sharp, whiplike motion with her hand. Two icicles shattered against the wooden floor.
“I… knew it… you still… had it… in you…” Nara said, looking down at the third icicle, piercing her chest, surrounded by an ever-growing spot of red.
The sounds of Nara’s body hitting the floor and Katara’s screams of surprise, as she rushed from somewhere in the corridor, blurred into one, but by then blackness was already taking over her mind.
* * *
She dreamt of a gentle touch. Of green eyes full of warmth and love.
When she woke, she was still broken, but there was something new in her heart. Not strength. Not resolve.
Hope.
It was faint, fragile, but it was there.
It took her body a while to recover even this fraction of strength she had before Nara tried to kill her, then some more before she decided she was strong enough to leave the White Lotus Compound.
But while depression and sadness became her most loyal confidantes on her travels, the abyss stopped calling to her and when standing on a mountain, cliff or ledge, no longer was she tempted to take one step too many.
Maybe she had someon- something worth living for.