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randomwritingguy · 1 year

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The Myth of Y/N (Korra x Reader) Part 34

Earth. Fire. Air. Water.

For three long years, Korra and I were separated. While she was recovering and recuperating at the South Pole, I started my training as an Air Nomad.

I trained and trained and trained. Trained until my bones threatened to shatter and my heart was a beat away from bursting. I vowed to never let anyone I love to get hurt again.

But as I grew in power, so did our enemies.

Like the Great Uniter.

And what she did set everything into motion.

We just didn’t know it yet.

BOOK FOUR: BALANCE

THREE YEARS LATER – PART ONE

NO-ONE’S POV

“Come on, Jerik!” A rough, heavy voice called out across the field. “Hurry up!”

Jerik rolls his eyes in annoyance. I’m working as fast as I can, he thought to himself. But he knew his father was right to urge him to go faster. The sun was nearly setting.

Placing the remaining crops onto his basket, he carefully lifted it up and started his journey back. The sun blinds his eyes in the angle he is at, but he doesn’t falter. He’s used to it. He keeps on going.

Jerik has been a farmer for a good few years now. His father pressed him into doing it to continue the family tradition or whatever. At least it keeps him busy.

On the other hand, it keeps him too busy. Too busy to really live his life to the fullest. Then again, that’s not really his father’s fault. It’s not his fault their village is barely keeping it together. It’s just the way life is.

The village known as Roku’s Beard has been standing still for years near the edge of the Fire Nation. It isn’t anything special. It isn’t unique. It’s just a small spec on the great and powerful nation from above.

The small collection of buildings and fields have been around since the end of the Hundred Year War. It was once called “Sozin’s Pride” when the tyrannical Fire Lords spread their narcissistic evil across their land and the world for their goals of power and conquest. The villagers named it this to show their support of their ruler or, at least, make it appear like they support them.

Under the reign of Fire Lord Ozai, their village lived in despair. Their crops were failing, their houses were crumbling apart, and sickness was growing. Jerik’s grandfather once told him that when he was his age, he thought the war was going to bring about their end…as well as the world’s.

And then Avatar Aang returned.

And then he defeated Ozai.

And then Prince Zuko, the once banished royal, became Fire Lord.

And then balance was restored.

The world had been saved.

With the war finally at an end after a hundred long years, the villagers restored their home’s original name “Roku’s Beard,” before Sozin started the conflict.

For seventy years, the world continued to prosper. All the nations became intertwined, and the United Republic of Nations was established. Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko continued to improve the lives of many and even after the former’s death and the latter’s abdication, their legacies of peace and balance lived on.

However, like in all nations, there is still poverty.

Poverty that Roku’s Beard is suffering from.

Fire Lord Izumi is a mostly a good leader. She’s kind but stern. Giving but harsh when needed. However, she can’t do everything. She can make mistakes.

Roku’s Beard was one of them.

Although it isn’t as bad as it once was, their village still lives in decay. And now, it’s gotten worse.

Because of Azulon’s Flames.

Every week at midday, the scum and villainy turn up to their homes and force them to give them their food and supplies or they will burn Roku’s Beard to cinders. Jerik has seen it all too much. He can’t remember the last time his stomach was full…if there even was a time.

And their arrival is soon.

“Jerik!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Jerik barks out, his irritation growing. “They won’t be here for another hour or two.”

Finally, he sees his father at the edge of the field, the grass blowing gently in the wind. A large man with a thick belly and thick arms crossed, he gazes at his son with steel. His gesture doesn’t contain a hint of panic that was in his words just earlier. Perhaps, he’s trying to brave.

When Jerik finally reaches up to him, the harsh glare softens.

“How much have we got?” He asks him, glancing at the basket in the son’s hands.

Breathing out a deep sigh of disappointment, the younger man glances down at the small amount of crops. “Not enough. I’m sorry, Dad.”

A gentle hand is placed on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly in comfort, and Jerik looks up to see his father giving him a sad smile. “It’s okay, son. Come on.”

Swallowing, he nods.

They begin to walk back to their village and then-

“-They’re here!”

The shout freezes Jerik to the bone.

What?! Azulon’s Flames don’t usually arrive this early!

“Shit!” His father splutters out. “Where?!”

The woman who first shouted rushes up to them and points in their direction. “Behind you!”

WHAT?!

“Jerik, run!”

He doesn’t. Instead, he turns to look.

None of this is making sense. It can’t be them. This isn’t like them.

His suspicions and doubt grow further with what he sees.

Instead of seeing dozens of the violent criminals wearing their torn clothes and slick black leather jackets. He doesn’t see the ostrich horses that usually accompany them. He sees none of them.

Deep far in the orange fields, he sees a single figure...walking to their village.

What?

“Jerik!” His father shouts. “Come on!”

“It’s not them!” He barks back. “Look!”

His father rushes up to his side and he sees what he’s talking about.

The figure stands tall and proud, covered in red and orange. They wear a powerful cape that is blowing powerfully in the wind. They move slowly in elegant steps, so elegant in fact that they make the figure look like a spirit moving with the wind.

“Who is it?” The father asks, his confusion replacing his panic.

As the walking figure gets closer and closer, Jerik sees more of its features. He sees dark skin, hair flowing slightly in the wind with their cape, and, most importantly, he sees the big, bright blue arrow tattoo on their forehead.

“It’s an Air Nomad!” Jerik exclaims, hope filling his entire body. “I can’t believe it!”

“What’s an Air Nomad doing in a place like this?” His dad asks, more to himself than to the others, and Jerik can hear the cautiousness in his tone.

Before Jerik can even open his mouth, the figure rushes forward in a speed greater than humanly possible and stops dead in front of the two villagers, wind blowing violently towards them.

Hands clasped behind their back, the Air Nomad gazes at Jerek’s father, and Jerek himself When they lock eyes with him, he sees a small smile form on their lips. Then, the smile fades away and replaced with complete professionalism and gazes at the older man.

“Are you the leader of the village Roku’s Beard?” The monk asks him, their voice loud and powerful.

At the corner of his eye, Jerek can see his father visibly swallow. Then, after a brief moment of hesitation, he answers the question. “I am. My name is Tukim.”

Then, to everyone’s shock, the Nomad’s smile returns, even bigger than the one before. “Greetings. I am Master Y/N of the Air Nation. It is an honour to meet you.”

The monk proceeds to bow briefly in respect which prompts Jerek’s father to do the same.

“It is, uh, an honour to meet you, Master Y/N.” He says, not really knowing what to say. “I must admit, I am surprised by your presence.”

Master Y/N chuckles. “I would be even more surprised if you weren’t. I hadn’t intended to arrive, actually.”

They weren’t planning on showing up? Jerek thinks to himself, tilting his head slightly to the left. “Why are you here then?”

“Jerek.” His father harshly whispers, scolding him for the blunt and rude question.

Instead of being offended, the airbending master raises their right hand which silences him. “No, no. It’s fine. You have the right to know.”

Master Y/N shifts their gaze to Jerek. “To be perfectly honest, Jerek-I can call you Jerek, right?”

Jerek nods.

“To be perfectly honest, Jerek,” Master Y/N repeats, “I was on my way home after completing a task I had and saw your village. I had a gut feeling I should pop by and have a look.”

Then, almost immediately after the monk finishes their story, a giant air bison land right behind them! Its striking white fur, big black eyes and shiny teeth freezing Jerek to the bone.

His father, on the other hand, jumped back in surprise.

Master Y/N didn’t even flinch. Instead, they turn around and cross their arms to appear displeased. “Spectre, what did I tell you about scaring people like this?”

The air bison, Spectre, lets out a series of grumbles that seems like its way of chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to the villagers, Master Y/N gives them a bashful smile. “I apologise on behalf of my bison. He likes to do this sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” The oldest of the three replies, finally regaining their confidence and posture. “So, you’re here on a whim?”

They chuckle. “Pretty much. While I am here, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you stop Azulon’s Flames?”

Jerek’s eyes widen in surprise when he realises its HIS voice asking that question.

Master Y/N narrows their eyes slightly in confusion. “Azulon’s Flames?”

Tukim looks around frantically as if the mere mention of the gang will summon them from the shadows. Then, he leans forward to the airbender and lets out a whisper, “I think it’s best we discuss this quickly inside. Follow me.”

As they all turn around, they notice a growing number of villagers staring at the newcomer with mystery and intrigue. They haven’t had new visitors in so long.

As the three individuals walk across the village, Jerek can hear mutterings and gossip from the crowd. Mentions of “Air Nomad,” “That’s an air bison!” and “Why are they here?” spread across the area like flies.

Jerek turns to the airbender and sees that they are looking around at the buildings of the village with a slight frown, obviously finding the sight to be unpleasant.

What’s their problem? Jerek thinks to himself, a growing irritation filling him. Do they not like our village?

Finally, after a minute of walking, they arrive. With the ear-piercing creak of the opening wooden door, Tukim walks into his home, followed by Jerek and Master Y/N.

Greeted by the all too familiar site of his dirty, dilapidated, claustrophobic place that was their living room, Jerek lets out a tiny sigh of relief. Finally, they are back inside.

The room wasn’t much. In fact, the square-like area was nearly empty with the exception of a small wooden table and chairs with a little primitive stove in the corner for cooking.

It isn’t much, but it’s home.

“Please, have a seat.” Tukim tells the Air Nomad, and they all sit down. For a few seconds, no-one speaks. Jerek can feel his throat tighten with suspense as he glances between the monk and his father, the former looking around the room with the same frown.

“You have a problem with our home?!” Jerek speaks up with a slight snarl, finally fed up with the nomad’s seemingly disgust at where they were at.

“Jerek!” His father growled out and begins to apologise to their guest, they raise their hand.

“Not at all.” Master Y/N tells them with a genuine look of sadness. “I was just surprised. I assumed the reign of Fire Lord Zuko and the current reign of Fire Lord Izumi eliminated poverty of this extent.”

This makes Tukim let out a bitter chuckle. “I would be surprised if Fire Lord Izumi even knows we exist.”

“Have you not tried contacting someone about it?” They continue, leaning forward slightly in engagement. “I’m sure she would help you if she was aware.”

“Oh, we tried, all right.” The old man says as he leans back in his chair and shifts his gaze downwards, his eyes going dark as he remembers all the vain attempts to bring a positive change to his village. “We tried sending letters to the places of power, but it seems like we are insignificant to them because they never responded to our calls for help.”

“How many letters have you sent?”

“Thirteen.”

Jerek sees the master’s eyes narrow with lines at the edges and their fists clench.

“I’m sorry. I will have a word with Fire Lord Izumi about this when I’m done here.”

This causes father and son to leap forward in complete shock, eyes widened, and jaw dropped. The leap was so fast and sudden that it pushed the table by a few inches!

“You can do that?!” Jerek speaks up, breathless.

Master Y/N nods slowly. “I can’t guarantee anything other than I will make her aware of your situation. All I can do is advise but the decision is up to the Fire Lord.”

Surprisingly, Jerek briefly sees the Air Nomad’s eyes flicker with anger before quickly being covered up. It was for a single second, but it was there.

Were they angry with the Fire Lord? He thinks to himself but doesn’t press the issue. Whatever problem they have, its clear they didn’t want to address it.

“With that out of the way,” Master Y/N continues, not giving Tukim or his son a chance to thank them, “what are Azulon’s Flames?”

The hope that filled the atmosphere vanishes.

“A monstrous gang.” Tukim finally answered, tightness and discomfort in his posture and voice. “They’ve been coming here and stealing what little crops and supplies we have. They’ve been harassing us for a good few years.”

“And you’ve mentioned them in your letters as well?”

“We have.”

The fists of the monk clench tighter.

“I see.”

No-one says anything for a while, the room so dead silent that it could make the bravest nervous.

Then, finally, the monk responds.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Huh?

“You will?!” Tukim and Jerek both let out, even more shocked than before.

They nod. “When do they come?”

Tukim opens his mouth to answer but what comes out isn’t his voice. Instead, a rough voice of another male echoes across the entire village.

“They’re here!”

What?!

“They don’t normally come this early!” Tukim splutters, shrinking back slightly in nervousness. “They usually show up much later!”

“Great…” Jerek mutters under his breath. “Just great.”

Master Y/N rises to their feet and starts walking to the door, not responding to either of the men’s comments. “Stay here. I will deal with them.”

“Not without me!” Tukim tells them, rising to his feet and stands tall to appear confident. “I lead this village. What happens to it is my responsibility.”

The Air Nomad freezes in their tracks. Then, they turn their head slightly to the left. “Very well. Come.”

Jerek begins to follow too but a rough hand land on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“Jerek, you stay here.” His father tells him with sterness. “No arguments.”

“But-“

“Listen to your father, Jerek.” Master Y/N adds, this time turning completely to give them a serious look. “Please.”

After a few seconds of an intense stare off between him, his father, and the monk, Jerek finally concedes but not before giving Tukim a loving hug. “Be careful, Dad.”

“I will, son.”

Then, they are off.

Now, if Jerek was any other kid, he would have obeyed to his father’s wishes and stay behind.

But Jerek wasn’t any other kid.

And so, a few minutes after his two seniors left the home, he follows suite. He notices how everyone else has gone back to their own places of solitude, consumed by fear so badly that they can’t even take a foot outside.

Great. That means Jerek can easily hide without anyone ratting him out.

Crouching slightly, the young man shuffles from house to house, occasionally pausing to make sure he isn’t potentially spotted by anyone, until he eventually reaches to the edge of the village with a building as his cover.

There, his father is standing tall to appear confident. The performance isn’t the most convincing but he is trying.

Master Y/N, on the other hand, is a completely different story. Standing beside Tukim, stands someone with authority. Hands clasped behind their back, cape blowing gently in the wind, they radiate extreme power as if that with a flick of a wrist they can wipe out all their enemies in a single stroke.

And, now, the Azulon’s Flames are here.

He sees multiple ostrich horses charging toward the village, arranged in their standard triangular formation. There he can see the infamous black jackets, roughed up and torn clothes, and muscular builds of the Roku’s Beard’s damnation.

However, while in every other day they would rode their ostrich horses to the very centre of the village, this time they freeze at the very entrance at the sight of the newcomer.

At Master Y/N.

Jerek’s blood freezes to ice as the rider at the very front hops off his transport and marches towards the two individuals with his followers behind him.

Karak. Leader of the Azulon’s Flames.

Jerek has never spoken to the infamous man before but he has definitely seen him more than enough. He remembers the all too familiar red and blue dragon tatoos wrapped around his bulky arms, his brown dagger beard and a mismatched pair of gold and white eyes, the latter most likely a result of a gruesome fight. That isn’t even mentioning the fact that Karak was inhumanely tall, as tall of seven feet. He was a giant with giant ambitions.

And as he marched towards them, Master Y/N didn’t even flinch.

“Whatta you doing here, monk?” Karak spits out, voice booming with rage and hatred. “This is none your business!”

His father understandably moves back slightly at the commanding presence the gang leader radiates. The airbending master stays where they are.

“On the contrary,” Master Y/N smoothly replies in a neutral tone, “the moment when innocent lives are harassed and threatened is exactly when it becomes my business. You, on the other hand, are unwelcome here.”

Karak lets out a humourless laugh, head thrown back. All the while, his followers stare at the two with sadistic grins.

When the laughter dies down, Karak stares down at the airbender. “I don’t think you understand, nomad. We are the Azulon’s Flames. We don’t care what others think! We take what we want, when we want! That’s what’s we been doing for years in this dump and its gonna stay that way.”

“I’m afraid not.” Master Y/N responds, not sounding sorry at all in the slightest. “Your days of robbing and ruining these people’s lives are over. You and your gang will turn around and leave and will never return. Am I clear?”

This amused smile on Karak’s face is gone now. “Didn’t you hear what I said? We gonna keep on taking what we want from here no matter what anyone thinks. You must be having bad memory. I suppose that’s what happens when you monks’ heads stay in the clouds for too long.”

The insult doesn’t waver the monk’s confidence. “Perhaps you’re the one who needs to have their memory checked. You will leave and never come back. I will not repeat myself a third time.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will make sure you all will never see the sunlight again.”

In a blaze of fury, Karak launches a powerful thrust of flames right towards Tukim and the Air Nomad!

Before Jerek can even process what happened or let alone rush in and try to help, the nomad reacts faster than their opponent did as they summon a powerful air shield which easily blocks the attack!

“Tukim, stand far away!” they demand in a tone that left no argument. The leader of the village does just that, walking backwards to create some distance.

Before Karak and his goons could retaliate, Master Y/N twirls in a 360 motion at a speed so fast it would look like a blur to the naked eye and flings their arm to the direction of the criminals, knocking all of them back by a good feet and scaring the ostrich horses away and causing them to scatter!

Not giving them the chance to recover from the attack, they proceed to swing and fling their arms around the front of their body like they were made of liquid which causes all of them to float right into the air and spin around. A tornado of men.

Screams of pure terror echo throughout the village as they rise and rise and rise further away from the ground, their shouts so loud and full of fear that it would put a child’s scream to shame. One by one, Jerek sees the villagers slowly exit their homes and advance towards the main event and they begin clapping and cheering, their overwhelming joy of their harassers’ misery so unashamedly obvious.

Their joy must be infectious as Jerek, overcome by it as well, walks towards them as well. His father spots them immediately, eyes widened slightly for a split second before frowning harshly in a disapproval look.

“I told you to stay behind.” He growls, though now it holds no bite.

Jerek shrugs. “Couldn’t help myself. Besides, they seem to be doing just fine.”

Then, finally, Master Y/N stops his motion and the tornado of man falls transforms into a rain of men as they all fall to the ground with a loud THUMP!

When the rain is over, the men lie still. Breathing but unconscious. Alive but their pride now destroyed.

Master Y/N turns to the crowd, a proud smile on their face. “You won’t have to worry about Azulon’s Flames anymore. You can live your lives in peace!”

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause and Tukim gives them a grateful smile. “Thank you! Thank you so much Master Y/N! We will forever be in your debt!”

The Air Nomad raises their hands in a calming gesture, chuckling slightly. “There is no debt to pay. I am merely doing what is right.”

Jerek stares at the airbending master. One person defeated an entire gang by themselves and they didn’t even break a sweat.

“There must be something we can do to thank you.” He speaks up, overwhelmed with relief and gratitude. “Anything at all.”

The Air Nomad glances at Jerek, then the defeated Azulon’s Flames, and then back at Jerek again.

“I could use some rope.”

TIME SKIP

Y/N’S POV

“On behalf of all the people of the Fire Nation, I thank you Master Y/N.”

I bow slightly in response to the grateful voice of Fire Lord Izumi. Her voice radiates professionalism and authority, two crucial characteristics for one with such power. Rising to stand straight, I gaze right at daughter of Lord Zuko a good distance away.

When the Hundred Year War ended over seventy years ago, Fire Lord Zuko made a lot of changes to the policies that his forefathers implemented onto the nation both small and large. One of the former, I observed when I walked into the palace, was the throne room itself.

The infamous fire curtain that brought fear into the hearts of anyone who were brave enough to walk in that stretched from one end of the room to the other was gone. In fact, any trace of the old throne room had been vanquished and replaced with a more welcoming atmosphere, a symbolisation of the new Fire Nation. Now, standing in that very same room, I see the paintings and sculptures of dragons and iconography of the culture that I cannot recognise. It is a rich of culture and I can feel it.

Sitting on a soft cushion, legs crossed like Fire Lords before Sozin had done, was the one and only Fire Lord Izumi, her golden pupils staring right into my own eyes with spectacles creating a slight shine to them, her silver hair neatly tided with her crown fitted gently into it like it was destined to be there.

And she is thanking me.

“There is no need, your majesty.” I formally tell her. “As I said, I merely did what was right.”

I can hear the satisfaction in my own voice. It’s true. The scum who have been stealing from the poor will never see the sunlight again in their jail cells. Some say I might have been acting a bit too aggressive for an Air Nomad when I was interacting with them but who cares what they think. I gave them a chance to surrender, twice actually, and they refused to listen. It was really satisfying to hear their screams of terror and their shouts of frustration when they all woke up tied up together when I brought them to the palace.

“Of course.” She smoothly replies, nodding gently. “Still, your assistance is greatly appreciated. Azulon’s Flames would face the proper consequences for their crimes against us.”

Us.

I frown slightly at that word. Us. Like, they are all a unified force.

And yet, Tukim’s comments still linger in the back of my mind.

“I would be surprised if Fire Lord Izumi even knows we exist.”

Pushing them to the back of my mind for now, I give her a smile. “I am glad to hear it.” I tell her gratefully. Then, my smile fades slightly. “However, I did not come here just to bring you petty thieves, your majesty. You are far more important than that. I wish to discuss with you another matter if you have the time.

The Fire Lord raises her right eyebrow slightly in curiosity. “I do. Please, continue.”

Taking in a big swallow and clenching my fists, I proceed. “As I spent my time in the Roku’s Beard, I noticed the extreme levels of poverty and low standard of life present. When I asked the leader of the village, he told me he has made several requests in the past for help only to get no response. I merely desire to bring this to your attention in hopes of being dealt with.”

As I finish my story, I see the Fire Lord’s features soften in what appears to be sympathy. It seems like she wasn’t aware of the problem, after all.

“I see.” She finally replies after a few moments of silence. “I had no knowledge of this. I will make sure assistance will be provided to them. Thank you for making me aware of the issue, Master Y/N.”

Letting out a tense breath that I didn’t know I was holding, I bow. “Thank you, your majesty.”

The sound of doors from behind echo across the throne room and we are greeted by two visitors. One of them I know all too well, with their long pointy beard, and silver long hair and the burnt patch of skin around his left eye. The other is much younger, around my age, and she walks freely like all the troubles in the world are irrelevant. Her black hair swinging back and forth in her walks, her golden eyes relaxed, and pink lips in a similar fashioned smile. I also see a crown similar to the Fire Lord’s on her head. Another royal?

“This is unexpected.” Izumi speaks up with a trace of humour.

Now, standing before us, Lord Zuko gives his daughter a warm smile. “I’m sorry, Izumi. Your daughter insisted.”

“Why am I not surprised?” The Fire Lord replies. She then glances at me and gestures to the two visitors. “Master Y/N, I believe you are familiar with my father, Lord Zuko?”

I nod and I bow before him, giving him my complete respect. The last time I saw him was three years ago and we never really spoke. Now, though, I have that luxury. It’s amazing to meet someone as legendary and noble as the man in front of me.

“I am. It is an absolute honour to meet you, Lord Zuko.”

The elder bows in respect in return. “The honour is mine. It is a pleasure to meet you again, Master Y/N.”

“Aren’t you a little short to be an Air Nomad?”

Huh?

I look at Lord Zuko’s right and I see the young woman gazing at me up and down without any attempt to hiding it. Then, she looks right into my eyes. “I thought you would be taller.”

…Huh?

“Um.” I mutter but that’s all I can say. How can I respond to that?

“Azula.” Fire Lord Izumi chastises.

Wait, Azula?

“I was just messing with them, mum.” The daughter replies with a roll of her eyes. Then, surprisingly, she stretches out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, uh, Y/N, was it?”

Still confused slightly, I stretch out and take her hand. “Yes, that is correct. You’re General Iroh’s younger sister. Princess Azula, right?”

“Glad to know I’m only known as “General Iroh’s younger sister.”

“Oh, uh, no! That-That wasn’t what I mea-“

Azula chuckles at my embarrassed state. “Just messing with you.”’

Beside her, Lord Zuko chuckles at the scene before him. “Don’t embarrass our guest, Azula. I’m sure they have had enough.”

“They don’t mind, Grandpa Zuko.”

“If I may interrupt,” Fire Lord Izumi speaks up trying to get the topic back on hand, though a smile is present on her lips. “I believe Master Y/N has other business to attend such as getting home. They’ve had a long day. Give my thanks to Tenzin.”

Hearing the kind dismissal, I bow once more. “I will. Thank you for your time, Fire Lord Izumi.”

Giving Lord Zuko and Princess Azula nods of their own, I begin walking to the exit.

“Wait!”

The voice of the princess makes me stop and I turn.

She continues. “Give Tenzin my thanks too. It’s great that the Air Nation are helping the world while Avatar Korra is recovering.”

Her name makes time stop, my face sweating, and fists clenched. I can hear the lightning fast pounding of my heart.

Korra.

Forcing myself to focus on reality, I blink a few times rapidly and give her a weak “Your welcome.” Then, I tun and quickly leave.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Korra.

Marching out of the palace in quick succession, I see Spectre waiting right outside the doors clearly impatient and tired of waiting.

Good. Time to get out of here.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The soothing gentle voice of Lord Zuko brings me to a halt. As I turn, I see his sympathetic gaze aimed right at me.

“What?” I manage to get out.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He repeats softly. “What happened with Korra. There was nothing you could have done to stop it.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that, and it certainly won’t be the last. The intended effects fail each and every time they are spoken to me.

He’s wrong. They all are.

“I know you think I’m mistaken.” He continues as if he has read my mind. “But you are in a prison of your own making. It’s time for you to be free of the guilt and regret that have been plaguing your mind for these past three years. I know all too well how it feels, Y/N. If you don’t learn to forgive yourself, they will consume you.

They already have. A long, long, time ago.

“Thank you, Lord Zuko.” I tell him abruptly. “I must take my leave.”

I start walking to Spectre immediately afterwards, not allowing the royal to retort or continue the discussion further, and hop onto him.

“Let’s go, Spectre.” I gently tell him. “Yip yip.”

Without making sound Spectre leaps into the air and winds and clouds, leaving me all alone to my thoughts.

Korra.

Leaning backwards and lying on my back on the warm and fuzzy fur, I gaze up into the blue sky.

Three years. It’s been three long years since I’ve seen let alone spoken to my best friend.

If she even is my best friend anymore.

Sighing heavily, I close my eyes.

Three years.

How much longer do we have to wait?

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And that's it!

I hope you all enjoyed it!

Feedback is appreciated! :D

See you all in the next chapter!

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