Water.

Earth.

Fire.

Air.

Nearly a century ago, the four nations returned to harmony after a war that had torn them apart. Firelord Zuko of the Fire Nation and Avatar Aang of the Air Nomads formed the first new country, called the United Republic. It was meant to be a sign of renewed unity and peace.

But then the Equalists came.

When Aang grew old, they emerged to take down the benders. War threatened to break out once more. Aang died, and hope faded with him.

Then…

I was born.

KORRA: The Fate of the Four Nations

Shadows, lots of shadows, and the mountains so tall so tall so tall people coming from the cracks, big, melding into each other a face, scarred, and long, white beard and white smile falling, falling into fire, cold fire arrows flying away air I can't control it! I need it it's gone can never control it no master to teach me gone, can't get out fire's gone from my fingertips it flickers flickers dies no! where did it go? Water, don't leave me colorless vanishes up can't reach Earth, my earth, solid, crumples to ash mountains falling down down no more benders people falling, crowds encircling no more benders no more benders no more benders—

"Korra! Wake up—it's a nightmare! Wake up, Korra, wake UP!"

I flicked open my eyes, burning and breathing heavily like I'd been firebending. Fire was always so difficult, and I never managed to emerge from a training session dry—Master Kio always refused to let up. My nightmare still flickered across my vision, like a stone deep in the water, sinking down beneath the waves. I lifted a hand to touch my chest, feeling my heartbeat. It pounded. It sounded like the steamrunners in central Republic City, the ones that hauled the largest materials to the mines in the mountains.

I blinked, and I attempted to control my breathing using techniques Master Katara taught me. She always said to return to my native element, and since water is naturally soothing, it didn't take long for my fear to subside.

But I was still so hot. "Jin, can you get me some water?" I looked into my sister's eyes, seeing her worry. I never used to have these awful nightmares, and she was so vexed—my whole family was. I didn't blame them. I was worried myself.

She nodded. "Korra, what's going on? It's the Equalists, isn't it? They're giving you nightmares, aren't they?"

I didn't answer, refusing to acknowledge the fact that she was right. I could handle it—I was the Avatar, after all! I could take care of myself. Anyway, I didn't want to scare her even more. She didn't know the true state of the city. "Water, please," I croaked, again looking into her classic Southern Water Tribe-blue eyes.

With a frustrated frown and a none-too-quiet humph, she turned towards the kitchen. She called out over her shoulder. "You could just get it yourself, you know!"

I smiled. I could at any other time—but right now, I felt spiritually weak. The nightmare had taken a lot out of me, and, powerful as I was, I didn't want to try waterbending just now.

Jin returned with a clay pot filled to the brim. The blue sparkled, and I relaxed just from its nearness. It was true that I had mastered three of the four elements already—water, fire, and earth—but I had a special connection to water. Seventeen years ago I was born a waterbender into the Southern Water Tribe, and I had grown up near its reassuring, playful hand. Water wasn't just my element—water was my life.

I took it gingerly, and I sipped it greedily. After the first drop, I felt my strength returning, felt it fill my soul and refresh me in a way nothing else could. I sighed. "Thank you, Jin. You can sleep now—I'll be all right." She looked at me, unconvinced. "Promise," I added with a grin. In truth, I wasn't sure if I could sleep anymore—I was already wide awake, and there was no way I was going back to that nightmare.

Shaking her head—I knew she was still disbelieving—she walked away, looking back at me as she did so. How I loved my sister! But there were some things I couldn't tell her, things that she was too young to understand. Even now, with her hard outer shell devloped by the growing danger, she was still vulnerable, and it was my job to make sure she didn't get hurt. But she was much too intuitive sometimes…

Her footsteps echoed out of sight. I peeked above my blankets, making sure she was back in bed—yes, there was the creak of the springs. Silently, I pulled on my clothes, colored the signature blue of my tribe, and slowly stood.

There would be no more sleeping tonight.