The water whipped at the precipice's craggy border, white and thrashing in the cold. It twisted with the wind, wave after rolling wave crashing against the wet and glistening rocks. They looked so constant, so firm, there–it was hard to believe they wouldn't be in their exact state forever.

But even cliffs lose their edge. They are beaten down by the water so many times that they lose their barrier, become, at least partially, one with the sea.

Similarly, Korra was realizing, do people.

Korra had been convinced she was a rock. The Avatar, master of all four–or three, at the very least–element, steadfast as the boulders below. It all had come so easy for her. Earth, water, fire–she had been those elements. They were inextricably entwined, her and them.

What was she now?

She sent a puff of air to the sea, watched it streak across the sky before landing and dimpling the ocean's gusty surface.

It wasn't waterbending, but maybe it could suffice. Maybe she could grow up, live with Mako, help train Tenzin's children. Pass away, let the next Avatar come into being organically.

But the world needed an Avatar now.

It was, perhaps, the one benefit of losing waterbending–she wouldn't involuntarily cushion the blow, make falling easier on herself than necessary. It would be quick and easy, which was just what she needed–a clean break.

There were her parents, of course. Senna and Tenraq loved her. But they'd understand, surely. It was Korra's duty.

Bolin and Asami would be upset. But they were reasonable. They wouldn't do anything foolish–they'd know why she'd jumped.

Tenzin, Pema, Lin. It would be hard on them, but they'd come to terms with it. Jinora and Ikki and Meelo were young, but they knew her and they knew her obligations.

It was Mako she was worried abut. Mako, who loved her. It was strange, how even at this moment–this horrible, horrible moment–her heart began to beat faster at the thought of those words. She recalled his expression when she'd escaped from Amon. The details were foggy in her mind, but she could still make out relief beyond anything she'd ever seen. He had been terrified at the mere possibility of losing her. What would the reality do to him? He knew what sacrifice was from raising Bolin, but she had trouble believing he would really be alright if she did the deed and walked off the cliff.

And, really–what of her? Mako, who she'd loved for so long, felt the same way. Wasn't that reason to stay?

But, she thought, you aren't just you. You're a spirit that's been in existence since time unknowable. You have to do this.

She took as deep a breath as she could through the tears beginning to stream down her face and sunk to the ground, gathering her knees to her chest. There was nothing to be done–she had to take the step. Now was the time to say goodbye to this world.

An orange robe appeared at her right. "Not now, Tenzin," she said, keeping her head to her knees for fear of revealing her intentions. "I just want to be left alone."

"But you called me here."

It wasn't Tenzin's voice. It was, as Korra realized as she turned, wide-eyed, to face the visitor...

"Aang."