Nope. I don't own 'The Legend of Korra'.
Loose strands of dark hair mingled with sweat over her brow, only to shift at the touch of her ragged breath. Determined to be perfect, Morea tensed her muscles again. With feet spread wider, knees bent deeper, and hands raised higher, she began her kata again. Her arms screamed and her legs screamed louder in response. Despite exhaustion, Morea felt her feet move across the pavement with perfect balance, carrying her weight as she built speed. Heat built in her core and palms as she twirled through the air.
Morea clenched her fingers tighter as she came to the final step in the kata. With a roar, she swung her fists up and brought the sole of her heal down on the pavement. The shock of the powerful step reverberated up her spine. She smiled. The Eastern style earthbending kata was perfect.
Morea opened her eyes, and her smile disappeared. The pavement stretching around her was void of any other life and completely unmarked. Nothing happened. Because she was not a bender.
Morea relaxed her muscles and waited for her heart to calm. With each breath, her pulse slowed and the object in her pocket grew heavier. After several minutes, she could no longer bear it. She drew the object from her pants and stared heavily at the black marks crossing it's front. A piece of paper should not feel so heavy, yet this one did.
It was a flyer advertising the Equalists. Morea knew she could be arrested for carrying the paper, but she could not compel herself to discard it. The rally she attended several weeks ago still commanded her attention; enough to cloud her mind. It was on a night as cold as this one, but the atmosphere of the room was sweltering. People were angry. A masked man stood in front of them, telling his story, providing fuel for their burning spite.
Some of them were like the masked man. Injustice fell upon their heads, and every bender within a hundred miles was blamed for the resulting concussion. Most of the people, however, were just like Morea. Jealous. She could feel envy mixing with the spite in the air when the benders were brought on stage.
Then the masked man said they would be punished, said their bending would be stripped. And suddenly Morea was afraid. One of the benders was just a kid, a kid she recognized. On the far side of the stage, the earthbender Bolin, one of her favorite probenders, kneeled bound before the crowd.
Then the masked man challenged the first bender to a duel. Roiling flames added to the heat of the room and lightning flashed above the crowd. The masked man dodged the onslaught of energy with practiced ease and grabbed the firebender. The man placed his hand on the bender's head and tensed his muscles.
Morea gasped. The masked man had not moved, but the firebender collapsed. His eyes were glazed and he did not move. Morea felt her stomach churn. She held her breath, fighting the desire to puke. The same fate awaited the others. Then the firebender got up. He was alive after all.
The bender swung his arm in a desperate fire punch. Nothing happened. Morea's gaze was pulled back to the masked man as if he was a magnet. The man said he could take away someone's bending. Morea thought he meant to murder the benders, but this was something different entirely. Was the masked man some kind of spirit person, like the Avatar?
Her thoughts churned and her nausea was replaced with excitement as the man further demonstrated his skill. Only a few minutes passed, and Bolin was the only bender left. Later, Morea would wonder why she no longer feared for him, and did not even pity him.
Now, standing on the pavement by herself, Morea denied the only answer that she could think of. She was selfish. She only had room for one thought. If bending can be taken like a possession, it can also be given. But the masked man was inhuman. To most of the rally members, he fed their anger and hope for justice. Not Morea. He fed her fear. For the past several weeks, thoughts of the spirit man ate her from the inside out. She wanted, with every inch of her soul, to approach him, but she did not have the courage. And now he was dead.
The morning brought strange news to her tired ears. The exhaustion fell from her limbs as new possibilities blossomed in her mind. The Avatar was at City Hall, offering to restore the abilities of the benders the masked man stripped of power.
Morea gazed at the statue set in the towering wall of City Hall. Toph Beifong, the deceased chief of police of Republic City. The greatest earthbender of all time. The first metalbender. Morea tried to climb the stairs to the grand entrance, but her legs wouldn't work. Two limbs that were so powerful yesterday would not respond today. She forced herself to breath deeply, as she would just before starting the kata.
She steeled her mind and trudged on. She only travelled a few steps inside before freezing again. The Hall was in ruins. Among the ruins were hundreds of people spreading in a nimbus from one woman. Avatar Korra.
Morea pushed her way past anxious civilians to get closer to the woman. Anxiety and longing battled her as surely as the crowd did. The Hall stretched to an agonizing length, but Morea soon broke through the circle surrounding the Avatar. A boy with flowing hair stood from a kneeling position. Ecstasy poured from his features as he opened a large bottle and flicked his wrist. Water sprayed over the crowd. No one seemed to mind.
The boy skipped joyously from the circle, leaving a wet trail. The Avatar turned toward Morea and spoke. Her voice was tough and commanding, like the masked man. "You're next?"
Morea's fear returned with more force than any time before. She tried to nod.
The Avatar laughed. "Don't worry. I can help you. Now, you look like an earthbender. Is that right?"
Morea found her voice in time to respond. "I-I used to be an earthbender," she lied.
"Okay. Kneel," the Avatar commanded.
Morea obeyed so quickly she scraped her knee. The Avatar placed a hand on her brow. Her breath came in pants and she felt lightheaded. Then the hand was gone. She rose on shaking legs.
Morea spread her legs, bent her knees, raised her arms, and closed her eyes. She stood in form and breathed deeply until her heart felt strong once more. Without raising her eyelids, she began her kata. Despite the rubble littering the ruined Hall, Morea felt her feet move across the floor with perfect balance, carrying her weight as she built speed. Heat built in her core and palms as she twirled through the air.
Morea squeezed her hands tighter as she came to the final step in the kata. With a wordless cry, she swung her fists up and brought the sole of her heal down on the pavement. The strength of the powerful step reverberated up her spine. She smiled. The Eastern style earthbending kata was executed perfectly.
Morea opened her eyes.