"You're going to have to do this yourself."
"When you want it out, you can Bend it out."
"You gotta do this on your own."
Exactly what Katara had told her three years ago:
"I can help guide your healing process, but whether you get better or not is up to you."
But she'd felt so helpless for so long, it was hard to fathom she had the ability to control anything about herself or her body. It's up to you, Korra repeated to herself. You learned how to walk, how to fight again. You can do this, too.
But when she tried to force the poison out of her bloodstream, all she could think of was the last time someone tried to Bend her body – Zaheer, forcing the air out of her lungs. No, not again! She stopped because she knew it would stop the vision.
"That fight is over. Release the fear." She knew Toph was right, that it happened and ended years ago and there was no reason to be afraid anymore, but for whatever reason, her body refused to accept that.
"I can't," Korra whispered between gasps for air. "Please, just get it out of me." She began walking towards her mentor. "I want it out, more than I've ever wanted anything. I don't want to fight you, my body just does it. Just don't stop this time – even if it hurts, even if I scream, don't stop. I don't care if it hurts."
Toph didn't move except to scowl defiantly at her. "Giving me permission to torture you is not going to help you."
Why was everyone so adamant about her needing to help herself? Was it because this was all her fault? Had she brought this all on herself? Did she deserve all the pain and torture Zaheer had put her through?
Korra said nothing, merely hung her head, closed her eyes, and sighed, but the blind woman seemed to have heard her thoughts. Her expression softened. "You've been through enough of that already." The first words of understanding, of sympathy she'd heard in over a year made Korra raise her head slowly. "Zaheer has no power over you anymore, unless you let him. That metal has no power over you. You really think I would tell you you can get it out on your own if it wasn't possible? If you want to feel in control again, take it. You don't need me to give it to you."
It all made sense, but Korra still couldn't help but think the task would be easier for someone with decades' more Metalbending experience. "But I've been trying, and it's not working."
"Then you keep trying."
"We don't have time," Korra tried to argue. "Please – we know you have the power to get it out now, why won't you...?"
"Because you don't need me. The power is yours."
The power is yours... the power is yours... Korra heard the words echo in her mind, mixed with a lot of bright but hazy images of figures she couldn't make out, as if the phrase had called up distant memories buried and forgotten for years.
The power is yours... Why did that sound so familiar? Where had she heard that before? The cave seemed to rotate around her, the four figures in front of her to disappear, as she stared ahead, trying to see through the fog in her mind. Was it a memory from a past life? Or a memory of her own life that the Fire Sages and the Tree hadn't been able to restore...?
Crescent Island... Raava... Wan... Of course! Her eyes widened in recognition. She remembered! "The power is yours to keep." It was what the lion-turtles said thousands of years ago whenever they bestowed the gift of Bending on humans, like Wan before he became the first Avatar.
Wan never stopped fighting, no matter how hopeless his battle seemed. Even though he died unsuccessful, he didn't die without hope. She could do no less – she was him! She had the power of Raava in her, even if she couldn't feel it. Forget about how you feel, Korra ordered herself. Feelings are not reality. The reality was, she was the Avatar, the most powerful being in the world, and even the great Toph Bei Fong knew that. Zaheer had thought he and poisonous metal were a match for it; who was she going to believe – Zaheer or Toph?
Korra stepped back and narrowed her eyes in determination. The power is yours, she told herself sternly. She stopped trying to force her body to relax and focused on forcing the metal to obey her, on straining all the impurities out of her blood until it was clean.
She would never forget the feeling of the pollution leaving her body.