Korra Reimagined: Part 1

Edited 8/28/2017

KORRA! RAKO, ELERREN! An irritable voice calls out to three Watertribe children playing in the snow. They instantly perk up, looking back towards the hut. The thrill of fear that courses through children at the prospect of facing a mother's displeasure freezes them in place.

DINNER!

Small shoulders fall, as relief replaces concern. Not in trouble, just dinner. They exchange the universal smiles of conspirators and begin to put on the thick blue furs they'd discarded in play. Dogging, weaving and distracted, the game never really stops as the three make there way over to the family dwelling, always on the lookout for any choice snowballs.

Rako, Elerren and Korra's families together make up a small entity outside the larger community of whalers and seal hunters that live in the islands off the South Pole. The three small families live together in a large Cliffside hut, who's door the threesome now tumble through, skins intended to keep the heat in, now spit out three disheveled and sweaty children. Rako's mother, who is closest to the door holding a squalling infant, briskly suggests the three make themselves useful if they know what's good for them.

They happily set the table, livening the house further with their chatter.

This was a time of celebration, as all three fathers had just returned from months at sea. One of Rako's little sisters was helping dish up, while the new little baby in Elerren's family unit was being fed in the corner. Korra was the only child without siblings, which she found personally offending.

At five she was more than mature enough to take care of a baby brother or sister, a fact that she had been relentlessly repeating to her mother since the newest baby's arrival.

After a raucous meal of seal, tubers and plenty of ale, all gathered in a small but happy circle around the three oldest children. It was a tradition in the household that upon the return of the men after a hunt, the children would display for them whatever they'd learned in their fathers absence. For Elerren at age seven, it was his tracking or carving skills, but for Rako and Korra it was bending. They were of an age and both had discovered in the last year that they were water benders. Training with Master Katara had made them both quite proud and eager to show off, as they'd been trailing after Elerrens lead since the beginning.

For his part, Elerren seemed rather unaffected by their special skill. Rako was excited and fidgety while Elerren displayed his hunting prowess, which consisted of a small whalebone dagger that he'd carved. The handle had small intricate carvings of sea creatures on the sides and despite her own excitement; the impressive dagger distracted Korra along with everyone else.

Then Rako got up to perform and at this point Korra could barely contain herself. She'd been sitting on a huge secret for almost two days. Two whole days' she'd known she could firebend and hadn't said a word. To anyone! She was immensely proud of herself for patiently waiting for this special night to show everyone her bending two elements at once. If she could do that, then it was real. It was official: she was the Avatar.

When it was her turn, Korra bounded to the center and clenched her chubby hands together. Her cheeks puffed straining and red and a few chuckles were quietly released at the adorable display. Then she shifted her feet, bringing up a column of water with one hand and in the other, a small ball of flame.

The whole hut went quiet, the only movement or sound came from the baby in the corner, whose mother was staring at Korra wide eyed like everyone else. Needless to say, Korra was ecstatic.

"YES!" she cried jumping up and down madly while spinning around. "I did it! I'm the Avatar!"

The room erupted immediately with shouts of congratulations and questions, "How long have you known?"

"Why didn't you tell us?" These being directed at Korra's father and mother.

"We… We didn't." He responded, sharing a dumbfounded glance with his wife. "We didn't…Korra!" He called to his celebrating daughter. She pranced up to him, glowing.

"How long have you known you could do this?" He asked trying and failing to hide his sudden alarm.

"Since yesterday morning!" Oblivious to his furrowed brow and low voice, she giggled and bounced with childish excitement. "I was hot all over and I just wanted to get it out, and then poof! Fire." Korra beamed up at him and her mother who had come over to run a hand over her daughter's hair.

"You did great sweetie, your father and I are really proud of you" Her smile was wide but strained, and Tonrok could see true fear in his wife's eyes as their daughter proclaimed loudly again, "I'm the Avatar!"

They lay awake that night, after everyone had gone to sleep and quite, night sounds could be heard fluttering through the long house. Holding each other tightly, the couple was wrapped up in furs, talking softly. "What are we going to do, Tonrok?"

"They'll find out eventually" His voice had not inflection, he wasn't looking at her but staring at the blankets, and she knew he was concealing fear, anger and dread behind a calm façade. She took his face in her hands and made his eye's meet hers.

"We are not giving up on our daughter, Tonrok." She stated with conviction, "Our daughter is the Avatar, that means she will belong to the world someday. We can't control that." She paused, taking a depth breath, "But we are her parents, and we can control weather or not she has a happy, safe childhood." She let go of his face but still held his eye with the intensity of her stare. "I will not give up my child to the White Lotus, not until we decide that she is ready." Tonrok stared at his wife in blatant amazement before kissing her gently with passion.

"I love you." He said quietly; as they settled down into the furs, hope rekindling in his heart.

Though if the squirming in his gut was anything to go by, things were not going to be that easy.

Word of the new Avatar spread quickly. And the Order of the White lotus arrived without fanfare. To the parents surprise and utter relief, no one demanded their child be taken, they just wanted to meet her and make arrangements for her future training.

Korra was a spectacle. Reveling in the attention, the zealous five-year-old began demanding to be served and calling out orders to anyone around, garnering laughter from her audience.

Glad that Korra was still in his care, Tonrok dealt with this behavior swiftly and severely. Taking her to a desolate area of the island and leaving her there, alone. She was told to sit, wait, and do nothing. Childish bravery began giving way to isolation-induced fear after the first hour, and her father was impressed despite himself as his five-year-old did not start crying until the second hour. Of course, little Korra did not know that through the eternity of her isolated suffering, her father was in fact close by, keeping an eye on her from a sled, hidden in the snow.

Traumatic lessons are the ones learned best. After a tearfully apologetic talk with her father, Korra was allowed back in the Hut were she promptly displayed an acute, healthy respect for her elders.

More obedient but still enthusiastic about her new abilities, Korra began happily showing off at the training compound where she would now spend a few days out of every week. Occasionally, when someone did not believe a little girl was training to be the Avatar, Korra was happy to correct them. Though, one older boy in her earthbending class doubted rather loudly, even after Korra had given a small demonstration, he continued to doubt. And pester, and poke, and jeer at a small girl in a class littered with older boys. And that was where Korra first discovered cruelty and how to deal with it. Teachers began to instruct her in all three bending disciplines simultaneously, and Korra took to the instructions like a fish in water.

Formal training of the Avatar at such a young age was a controversial decision; many members of the White Lotus believed that traditions before Avatar Aang's time should be fallowed, meaning official training would only begin after the age of sixteen. Her training was allowed to happen simply because Korra wanted to learn so badly. She was like a sponge introduced to water, soaking up form after form, Korra cared about bending more than most members would have believed possible for a child. Her enthusiasm was infections, and without a formal consensus

from the order, White Lotus members that could not resist her blithe eagerness began helping her indiscriminately devour all knowledge of bending.

On the other side of the world Aangs forth son Zaheer, meditates on the existence of the Avatar.

Four months into Korra's unofficial training, an alarm was sounded.

Korra

One night I was brutally ripped from the bed I shared with my parents, the way the wind snatches an errant leaf from the ground. The combination igloo-hut was collapsing and panicked screams began even as I was whisked out the door. I was more stunned than scared. I could feel the shifting of a body underneath me and knew instinctively that it was a man carrying me indifferently under one arm. Glancing up, the face I saw was determined and fierce; a face normally to be admired. But why would someone good do something like this? Was it one of those things I'm supposed to understand when I'm older? I wonder this as my body is jostled like a sack of old laundry, through the snow. I begin to struggle.

There was more shouting from behind, angrier now more than frightened and my captor made a sweeping motion with his free hand, the other compressing me tighter to his side and we begin to move incredibly fast, snow flaring out behind. Snow and wind raged against my body, biting and blinding, then was suddenly relieved by the soft embrace of a snowdrift as my captor dumped me at his feet to face an assault from my oncoming family. I moved automatically. Bending the snow underneath my body and launching myself to the side, as snow and wind clashed around me.

That was when I first understood that my imposing captor was an airbender, and there was an older more severe looking airbender, fighting him above me. Great columns of water and air and even fire clashed as more warriors joined the fight, none seemed to be on the younger airbenders side. That seemed unfair. But even against numerous opponents, he did not flag in technique or power; calmly striking down anyone who came too close. He seemed to be waiting for something. But then a shout went up, his name I later learned. He looked and I followed his gaze, to Chef Sokka who was holding a jagged whalebone knife to an unconscious woman's neck. My would-be captors utterly dispassionate manner wavered for the first time, he suddenly seemed young and angry.

"You wont kill her!" He called, attempting and failing to sound scornful. The fear was in his voice. Chef Sokka didn't waver.

"You're right, I won't kill her." Here, the Chef removed the knife, dropping it in the snow, his eyes cold steel. "But you will never see her again."

You could see the exact moment the thwarted man collapsed in on himself, face crumpling into a mask of rage. The warriors moved in quickly to subdue him—but the fight was over.

Over the years, I never could make sense of what I felt for my would-be captor. Awe and admiration seemed wrong but those were the most prevalent. There was also the fear that I would never be as good as he was.

A year after the attempted kidnapping, the White Lotus took official charge of my protection and training. I was moved to the mainland fulltime, where my family was graciously allowed periodic visits. Everyone agreed my safety was the number one priority. It was far more important than me having any freedom. Even though the man that was so dangerous to me was already locked away, but whatever.

I trained with other students and my masters. I had caretakers to look after me. But there was a tangible ach in my chest where my family used to be. I missed adventuring with my almost brothers. I missed how my father would always stick the newest dried sealskin on my shoulders so I could parade around like a king.

But another part of me, a more selfish part, reveled in the personal attention of my teachers. I excelled under their tutelage and I was proud and happy doing it. All bending has a subversive rhythm at its core, and sinking into that ocean of calm power and motion is intoxicating. I didn't understand it then, but I was giving myself over completely to the bending, making it a part of who I was. Which turned out to be a blessing and a curse.

Over the next few years, I discovered new and more devious ways of sneaking out of the compound to see my family. Shifting mountains of snow on the opposite side of the compound as a distraction. Using prime opportunities to sneak away and work on the tunnel I was making that would take me past the sight lines of the fort. And eventually just blasting holes in the outer defenses. All of which inevitably lead to me laughing cheekily as I raced for home. It was the best sort of game, watch the adult guards panic and squawk like seal-lions and see my family. Win-win. Of course I didn't realize until later, that most times my guards just let me break out then tailed me until I returned. When they got serious about containment that was when the real fun began.

At age eleven I truly made my first escape. Massive thunderheads were building on the horizon but I'd been working on the tunnel for weeks. There was no way I was going to let some snow deter me. Shrugging away any concern with the flightiness of a child, I push forward out of the mouth of the tunnel; wanting in any respect for the elements I was so desperately trying to master. Even then, I was too stubborn to think.

Already imagining a joyful reunion, I raced through the snow toward home, propelling my self forward with my bending.

It was calm at first, as I made my way through the expansive tundra but it takes hours to get home and the wind brought snow and bitter chill before I was even to the coast.

The storm swallowed me whole, snow the only thing I could see in all directions. Like a clever girl, I decided it was best to push forward anyway, I knew the direction. And I was a bender. Nothing could stop me. I thrust my chin out with my minds eyes already focused on the warm fire of home. And that was when a rock soiled something collided with my blind wonderings through the snow.

I heard a muffled pounding on the tundra combined with the ringing in my head from the impact, and that was the only warning I got before a pack of polar-bear dogs was all around, jumping over and to the side. Powerful, massive and largely undomesticated, many consider Polar-bear dogs the most dangerous animals in the world. They certainly looked fierce up close, but that didn't necessarily mean something is going to hurt you.

There were legends about great warriors of the Watertribe who learned to ride the Polar-bear dogs, maybe even tamed them. That was all I could think about; riding one. With the ringing in my head not having receded in the slightest, I could only feel excitement as scanned the pack picking one out. They were swerving around me as they ran, and I used the earth and water to propel me forward as I began to run along side my chosen. Even with my bending, I was quickly falling behind. Panicked, I launched myself at the adjacent furry back.

The fur is slicker than I expected was all I had time to register before the massive creature abruptly whips it's head around, thrashing and attempting to through me off. Guess I have to tame it.

My hands fist in the fur of its back as it snarls, back arching and jerking around so fast I don't realize I've lost my grip until I'm flying through the air. Instinct drove me to wrap myself in a cocoon of snow before a muffled impact with the ground. Breathing hard, I stay there in the silence of my protective bubble for a few minutes smiling stupidly to myself, as the thunder of paws recedes. It may of only been for a moment, but I rode a polar-bear dog! Grinning, I dissolve the snow surrounding me and crawl out into the mass of turned up snow. It looks like a rock-strewn beach after a storm. Then I hear a small whimper nearby. I freeze, eliminating the sounds of crunching snow and breathing. Hearing it again, off to my right I began to move slowly and cautiously. Startled, whimpering and curled up in a defensive ball is a young Polar-Bear cub, left hind leg arched awkwardly at her side.

"Uh oh" I immediately crouch down, making myself smaller, less threatening but it's no good. Upon seeing me, an upper lip curls and a low warning snarl is given.

Still fierce. I can't help but grin, though my smile fades just as quickly when I realize this is my fault. A Polar-Bear Dog wouldn't trample and leave it's own cub unless it was too startled by a crazy girl trying to ride it, to notice anything underfoot. This cub must have gotten trampled when that adult was thrashing around trying to through me off. If it's my fault then I'm going to fix it.

"Alright," I say slowly approaching, one hand held out low. "I'm going to try and help you ok? It's alright, I'm good, I'll make you feel better." My quiet words are meant to calm and reassure, but she still growls and snaps at me when I reach for her leg, so I try being more direct. They are supposed to be intelligent creatures.

"Look," I say frankly sitting down next to her, "I'm trying to help you. Your leg needs healing and I can do that. I can make you better." In reality, I had never healed anything more substantial than cuts and bruises, but the cub didn't need to know that.

It works! She stops baring her teeth at me, which is so encouraging I immediately bring some water up to my hand, take a deep breath letting it glow then place the hole thing on the injured leg. The crazy cub yips and starts squirming trying to sit up, and I throw my body on top of hers trying to hold her down.

"Come on, puppy, work with me!" I grit out, as I shove her snapping jaws into the snow with my right hand while I attempt to start to heal the bone I can sense is fractured with the other. "I'm trying to help!"

It takes my whole body weight to hold her down, my arm at a weird angle to reach her leg. It's tense few minutes, my limbs trembling with the exertion of keeping her still and healing, and then I realize she's stopped fighting me and I can focus completely on the healing. Though I still keep her face stuffed in the snow because that seems fair. When I'm sure everything is back in working order I slowly sit up, releasing both the water and the cub. She kind of wriggles her body, sniffing at the now healed leg, but makes no move to get up.

"Uhhh, you ok?" No response. I tentatively poke at her side, and she playfully nips at my gloved hands. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" It's a rhetorical question, as I don't wait for a response, I just carefully pet and rub the furry body looking for other injury. Amazingly, she lets me handle her like this with little fuss. In fact, she seems to have had quite the change of heart and even starts nuzzling my hand with her head.

"Oh now you're all hugs and kisses. You know, the good attitude would have been much more helpful when I was fixing your butt," I say jostling her in a playful manner, to which she responds with a thorough licking of my face and laughter bubbles out of me.

Getting up, it registers to me that a storm is still raging. Even if I could track down the pack, I'd never catch up to them in this weather. The cub is jumping around digging in the snow, periodically looking back at me, completely at ease. Well if she's content in my company for now, I'm not going to worry about returning her. Testing whether or not she'll stay with me without commands, I turn to walk back towards the compound and she comes bounding over after me. A beaming smile spreads across my face. I think I found a friend.