Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar, and I am making no money from this.
I was six years old when I learned what death was.
I was asleep in my bed, exhausted from moving into our brand new house in would become Republic City. I was rather rudely awoken by a strange man placing his hand over my mouth. I was instantly awake, and terrified. He held a knife to my throat, and held a finger to his lips, simultaneously silencing me and showing off the lick of flame dancing above his finger. But little siz year old girls panic easily, and I tried to scream through his hand.
The brute glared and flared his flame at me, pressing even harder into my face with his big, dirty hands. I started crying.
As he picked me up and started to pull me off the bed. I'm still not sure whether I meant to or if it was just dumb luck, but in my struggling I kicked the stone bedpost as hard as I could.
Though the rest of that night is burned into my memory, all I remember about the next part was a sudden wall of earth and then being in my mother's arms. She kept asking if I was okay, did he hurt me, but I was too afraid to do anything but sob into her nightdress.
What had happened didn't really hit me until my father walked in. Walked, not ran, and out of the remains of my bedroom. It clicked for me then, and I knew that he wouldn't be walking toward us like that unless the bad man wasn't there anymore.
Unless the bad man was dead.
And my mother had done it.
We later found out that he was loosely tied to an insurgent group determined to get revenge upon Avatar Aang for so-called 'injustices' he 'inflicted' upon the Fire Kingdom.
So yes, Avatar Korra, you are dangerous. But even more dangerous are those who will oppose you. We don't know who many of them are yet, but rest assured, you will draw them in like a magnet. And because you exist, more little girls will be targeted, just because their mothers taught the Avatar.
That is the reason why I hate you, Korra. Welcome to Republic City.