"What do I need to do?" Korra asks herself, closing her eyes. She sees the glimmering water of the island, and then she sees blue-black, stormy waters. Her words and thoughts slip away so easily, and she can barely focus on what she knows.
She has a headache. Her stomach hurts.
But she doesn't know how many days pass or if it's morning or night.
The room she's in is small and red, and there are tapestries with the sun and golden dragons spiraling around the borders. The girl spends most of the time on her back, barely eating or drinking.
An old woman in red robes comes to speak with her and asks if she can remember anything about her past.
"A boat," Korra says. "I was on a boat." When she looks at the sage, the older woman expression shifts at that statement.
"It's odd," the sage replies. "Republic City seems to have quite a few boat accidents."
"What do you mean?"
The older woman explains, "Several months ago, a man washed up on these shores. He drifted from Republic City, like you." Korra doesn't recall anything about the city, but that's apparently where she was last when she lost everything. "His boat exploded - some sort of, ah, malfunction involving electricity?" Solemnly, the sage adds, clasping her hands in front of her, "He ... we thought he was dead at first. His brother was killed in the accident."
"I'm sorry," Korra says simply. It's all she can say. She already knows loneliness, and she can't imagine actually losing a loved one - at least, she hopes that was never the case.
"He spent several weeks in and out of consciousness. All he did was ask where his brother was. His wounds were grievous, and we couldn't entirely heal them." The sage pauses. Korra can feel the blood pounding behind her eyes. "Perhaps, in time, when you feel better, you can meet him. He rarely speaks to any of us. I think you may have some common ground."
When she can finally stand, Korra is guided to the temple gardens. There's a man sitting on a white bench. He stares straight ahead, and she wonders what he's thinking about.
Her eyes widen because, yes, he is horrendously scarred. She immediately pities him and wishes she could help, but she can't even help herself.
When she and the sages approach close enough, he finally looks at her.
"Hello, my name's Korra," the Avatar says, not knowing what else to say. "I don't think we've met yet."
At first, the man stares. And stares. He regards Korra with a flat expression for one long minute, and she says nothing. She fidgets a bit.
Then, he laughs. His laughter is a bitter and cold sound that resonates from deep inside him, sounding something like dry sobs.