Disclaimer: The Legend of Korra, all characters and settings, and anything else you would recognize as pertaining to this cartoon does not belong to me. I do not intend to make any money off the writing of this fan fiction; it is merely for entertainment purposes.


Title: The Caress of Water.

Summary: The Avatar battles both the powerful Equalist activists and her own feelings for their mysterious leader—a tale of unbreakable family ties, tolerance, and self-exploration.

Pairings: Amon/Korra, unrequited Tarrlok/Korra, slight Mako/Asami, slight Mako/Korra, slight unrequited Bolin/Korra.

This chapter was totally revamped for your enjoyment on November 9, 2017.


Chapter VIII: Tactics of War


"What—again? Look, I told you all I know," snarled the handcuffed Red Monsoon faction leader when the door slid open behind him.

Unperturbed by the hostility, Tarrlok stepped into the interrogation room and gracefully settled into the seat opposite him, watching his eyes narrow in realization.

"Tarrlok. Finally, you decide to show up."

"A very good morning to you, ah… Suinnak," he greeted after making a show of trying to remember his name.

"Don't call me that! I'm the Third Wind."

"Is it a rite of passage to shed your noble Water Tribe heritage? No matter—I'm not here to discuss your silly customs." The chairman folded his hands in his lap and regarded Suinnak with an air of annoyance. "You understand why you're in here and how precarious your situation is, correct?"

"I understand that the wannabe Avatar went psycho on me and my comrades while we were sleeping. She only got lucky 'cause we were all so drunk we couldn't see straight."

"You must've known this was going to happen. You should've prepared yourselves better for the inevitable showdown."

"No," he hissed, slapping his palms on the table between them and leaning forward menacingly. "In fact, I know this shouldn't have happened. Me and my boys don't belong in here, and you know it. We have our rights, too. Why were we ambushed, and why are we being treated like animals?"

Tarrlok's icy gaze grew a touch colder. "Enlighten me—why doesn't a band of criminals deserve to rot in prison?"

"Let's just say we've paid our dues."

The two Water Tribe men stared each other down, something wordlessly implicit passing between them.

Tarrlok noticed a metalbender hovering outside the door and listening in. He knew he had to be extremely cautious with his wording and hoped Suinnak could seamlessly follow suit. How he hated relying on other people. "Excuse me? Who did you pay these so-called dues to?"

"Who—who did we pay?" Suinnak broke off. With an incredulous snort, he fell back against his chair, jangling the chains of his handcuffs as he did. "This is ridiculous. I don't need to explain nothin' to you."

"Drunken rambling. No wonder your two previous interrogators had no information other than how uncooperative and heavily doused in alcohol you are—disgraceful. With such conduct, I'm not surprised they're considering more torturous methods once I leave. You know, I have little time to waste here; there's a new maximum-security prison proposal to put to a vote, one that's cold, dark, isolated, and possibly even infested with many vile pests. I'm confident the public will approve of your new housing." With those words of dark finality, the chairman made to stand.

"Wait!" Suinnak's eyes widened, and he threw out his cuffed hands to halt his progress. "Just… just give me some time to sober up. You'll get your information."

"Very well."

When Tarrlok sank back down, the two men sat motionless for several uncomfortable minutes, avoiding each other's eyes. Suddenly, there was a commotion of furniture being knocked around and muffled shouts beyond the interrogation room.

It took the spectating metalbender much hesitation before he poked his head in through the doors and said, "Councilman, I need to deal with this. Will you be all right on your own?"

"I should be fine. I'll wait here until you return."

With a quick nod, the officer closed the metal door behind him and rushed away. His footsteps retreated down the hallway until they disappeared completely.

Recognizing the opportunity for what it was, Tarrlok surged forward over the table and grabbed Suinnak's collar, yanking him closer and eliciting a cry of shock. His face contorted with fury. Through gritted teeth, his words were hushed but dripping with sinister promises when he demanded, "Where'd the payment go?"

"We sent it like we always do—same place, same time!" he yelped, writhing against his ironclad grasp.

"Keep your voice down. I'm going to make this quick and very simple for you." His fingers tightened around the bunched-up fabric. "It didn't arrive. I don't know if that's because you didn't send it or if there was external interference, but I don't care. As per our agreement, it should've arrived yesterday. Since it didn't, there's nothing protecting you. Were you so drunk that you misplaced it?"

"For your information, we don't make a habit of drinking so heavily. We just had a little party last night—after we sent our messenger!"

"Why?"

"None of your business! If you want in on it, join the gang!"

The final strands of Tarrlok's patience snapped. With dark, unforgiving eyes and a strangled voice, he ground out, "You… are causing a considerable inconvenience for me. And, to suggest I'd sully my name… No, just answer my question."

When Suinnak continued to refuse, invisible tendrils, worming outward in a frenzy from where cruel fingers splayed tensely over his neck, snaked through his veins, as if his blood had been replaced by the deepest, darkest waters of the northern arctic. He opened his mouth to scream, but a foreboding presence coerced him to clamp his teeth down on his tongue. A coppery tang flooded his palate, and he choked on it. Rivulets of blood dribbled down his chin and peppered Tarrlok's hand when he howled, "What are you doing to me?!"

"I'm not doing anything. Now, answer me."

The unknown tendrils were razor wire, slicing into the delicate walls of his veins and ordering him to comply. He had no choice but to obey when the pain escalated into agony. "We were celebrating a successful raid on Cabbage Corp, all right?! Oh, spirits, let it end!"

"Why'd you target Cabbage Corp?"

"Ugh—I don't know! We were forced into it! The Equalist leader came to our borough yesterday with some of his men, and… and he told us to empty the factories. We spent most of the night loading up… everything we could carry, and we drove away while that Gan-Lan guy was busy." He broke off and hissed, his head lolling on his neck. He struggled, panting, to focus on Tarrlok's unblinking, glacial gaze. With a mangled tongue and strangely enunciated words, he continued, "That guy already kidnapped a few of our good men and took their bending from them… He threatened to do the same to our entire faction!"

As the chairman silently contemplated his answer, his grip lessened slightly, withdrawing the phantom tendrils from Suinnak's trembling body. "Amon ordered you to steal from Cabbage Corp?"

"I said that."

"So, what'd you do with the things you took?"

"Why do you care—ugh, we tossed 'em in a garbage heap somewhere. We don't need more trash in our boroughs. Anyway, it was just a bunch of useless parts. He didn't even want what he asked us to take."

Tarrlok finally released the distraught man, who slumped, boneless, in his chair. He further disheveled his own clothing and reached back to release one of his carefully groomed ponytails, tangling the hair with one hand.

"Well, you got your information… Get us out of here, and we'll send the payment again, all right?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Rising from his chair, he stepped back until he hit the far wall, hunching over in falsified pain. "I'm an innocent bystander who was unfairly attacked, so I'm disinclined to negotiate."

"You—! How dare you double cross us, you scum?!" Suinnak screamed, enraged, and knocked the table out of the way to charge at Tarrlok, who didn't move to defend himself. Rearing his cuffed fists back, he prepared to swing them right into the councilman's face.

Before he could, a metal cord shot through the air and strangled his wrists, yanking them away from their target. Several more cords followed in rapid succession, binding his feet and jerking him to the floor.

He squirmed against the metal bindings and yelled, "He's lying! Tarrlok's more of a criminal than everyone in Red Monsoon put together! He belongs in a maximum-security prison—not us!"

Several metalbenders began hauling the hysterical man out of the room while he fought against them.

"Lying! He's lying!" Eyes wild with vengeful promises, he spat blood on the floor at Tarrlok.

Lin moved forward to help Tarrlok to his feet, frowning in concern as he coughed and clutched his chest. "Councilman, what happened? We heard the yelling and came as fast as we could."

"I was too cocky. I didn't count on being the target of drunken, unpredictable rage," he explained, grimacing.

"You shouldn't have been in here alone. The Red Monsoon must know the Avatar's allied with you, so, of course, they'd be angry. Since you seem mostly unharmed, we'll treat this like a lesson to be learned and exercise tighter security next time."

"That's a wonderful suggestion." Tarrlok stood up straighter and began fixing his hair the best he could without a mirror. "Needless to say, I've completed my questioning with little success. Did you retrieve the Avatar for the investigation?"

"She arrived a short time ago. We had to keep the journalists from destroying the foyer in their excitement."

He chuckled and followed Lin out of the interrogation room.

A metalbender approached them and reported, "Chief, the prisoner's babbling about 'puppet strings' in his body, and he refuses to cease his screaming about the councilman. We aren't completely sure, but he still seems heavily intoxicated."

"'Puppet strings,'" she scoffed. "What's this nonsense? I never understood the need to drink oneself into a stupor."

Tarrlok shrugged his shoulders and smiled in faint amusement. "It's hardly worth our concern. Shall we?" With a nod of his head, he headed toward where he could see the Avatar standing alone, some distance down the passageway.

Lin took a step to follow, but her officer held her back and quietly added, "The prisoner bit through his tongue. We're waiting for a medic to arrive to treat him. He's very terrorized by whatever took place in that interrogation room."

She turned her head, surprised. Puppet strings. "That almost sounds like a bloodbender attack. But—"

Their eyes locked with Tarrlok's retreating back.

"I know; it seems unlikely. That's all."

Dismissing her officer, Lin hurried to catch up to Tarrlok just as her team assembled around him and the Avatar.

Korra's pleasant smile dropped as her eyes landed on Lin. "So, why am I here? The guys who picked me up wouldn't tell me anything."

"I want you to help us investigate a robbery at Cabbage Corp," Tarrlok informed her, wrapping a hand around her arm and leading her outside. "I'll fill you in on the details as we go."


The skyscraper of a building that was the headquarters of Cabbage Corp, with cheerful yellow-and-green roofing and architecture like that of the Earth Kingdom, loomed above the metalbenders, councilman, and Avatar as they approached. It shared the block with numerous buildings of identical geometric structure. Korra, in leaning back to see the top of the building, nearly toppled backward, and she offered a sheepish grin in response to the stern stare the chief of police leveled at her.

The group had barely reached the front doors of the headquarters when Lau Gan-Lan, with tears streaming from his eyes, burst from the entryway to greet them. With a sob, he flung himself at Lin's feet. "Finally, you're here! My supplies, my parts, my technology—please do something!"

"Mr. Gan-Lan, contain yourself this instant," Lin ordered, wrenching her armor-clad leg from his grasp and crossing her arms. "Show us where the robbery took place, and we'll see what we can find."

"Very well," he blubbered, pushing himself upright.

Mr. Gan-Lan led them around the building and through the narrow alleyways between his factories until they came to their destination, the doors of which were flung wide open. Through them, they could see clear evidence of stolen supplies—clean shapes in the dust that covered the floors, the rooms empty except for the heaviest of equipment. There was also a multitude of broken glass littering the cement.

A few workers milled about, idly picking through the destruction and avoiding the shards of glass. With little interest, they glanced at the new arrivals, and one of the men grabbed a broom and began sweeping.

"Stop that!" Lin barked at the worker, who promptly dropped the broom with a clatter and leaped away from it. "You're tampering with a crime scene. I order all of you to remove yourselves from these premises." As an afterthought, she amended, as they tiptoed through out past the metalbenders, "But stay nearby—I'll be interrogating every employee."

Korra leaned closer to Tarrlok and whispered, "Seriously, why do you need me here?"

"We're going to brainstorm what could've transpired here. Chief Beifong will take down details for her report and interrogate any witnesses."

As Lin dictated what she saw, her words were jotted down. She meticulously pointed out obvious clues before moving in and investigating closer, and her team touched nothing as they made their way through the building. All the while, Mr. Gan-Lan, dancing from one foot to the other in obvious impatience and nausea, stood next to Tarrlok and Korra. The process restarted anew in the second factory, where the same destruction was present.

Finally, with her report completed, Lin returned to them. "The robbery took place before you arrived a few hours after sunrise, and your employees were here before you were—correct?"

"Yes. Normally, I would've been here early, but I drank too much last night," Mr. Gan-Lan informed her before noisily wiping the tears and mucus from his face. "This is so terrible…"

"Track down those employees we just saw. We're going to ask them a few questions," she said to her team. Motioning for Tarrlok and Korra to follow her, she asked, "Just how much did Councilman Tarrlok tell you about all of this?"

It took Korra a few seconds to realize that she was being addressed. "Uh, just the basics—unknown perpetrators; everything was stolen from the factories; and it happened sometime in between the gala and when the employees showed up for work this morning."

Lin proceeded to explain their theories: the phone calls about Red Monsoon collecting from various businesses in Dragon Flats; the timing of Mr. Gan-Lan's own break-in; and the fact that automobile parts seemed like an odd prize for a gang.

"So, it wasn't a scheduled attack, and, since it seems unlikely that Red Monsoon's going to need a bunch of old, dusty parts, there was an ulterior motive," Korra pondered aloud, roving her eyes over the property. She took note of a few masked workers standing around, engaged in quiet conversation. They appeared tense, alert. "They must've wanted this investigation to take place."

"So far, we've found no evidence that anyone wanted us to look around. That could mean the obvious damage is nothing but a decoy to keep us distracted. The fact that everything was stolen from his production lines is moot," Lin said. "Either we need to do some inventory checks to see what was stolen, or—"

"—We should look at some of the other buildings," Tarrlok finished with a nod.

They moved from the factories to the shipping facilities, carefully inspecting the contents. Beyond those was a structure in construction, but there was nothing of interest that they could initially see. When they approached the last two domed buildings at the end of the block, Korra noticed the suspicious workers had completely disappeared. She didn't think anything of it, believing that they'd been called away for interrogation by the metalbenders. Tarrlok paused in front of one of the storage garages, Lin at the other. Sharing a nod, they bent at the waist and pried the doors away from the cement. They threw them upward, exposing the contents.

All three of them were dumbstruck with silence.

The metalbender officers rushed to their chief's side and saluted. "Chief, the employees assigned to assembly, shipping, and storage seem to have disappeared. We looked all over the block but were unsuccessful. Should we head to administration and collect the names?"

"That's… unnecessary for now."

Within the storage facilities were collapsed men and women, stripped to their underclothing and slumped against piles of unmarked crates.

Korra rushed forward and began feeling for pulses. "They're just unconscious."

"Who are these people?" Lin demanded.

Mr Gan-Lan caught up to them and, hearing Lin's inquiry, pushed his way to the front of the group. He inspected their unconscious faces for several moments before declaring, "They're my employees! What's the meaning of this? This is no time to rest."

"Let's move them so we can see what's in the crates," Korra suggested, heaving a man's body over her shoulders and transporting him outside. The metalbenders fell into line next to her and did the same. Before long, they had access to the unknown contents.

"Those should be my experimental brakes and engines," Mr. Gan-Lan announced. "I've also been asked to work on an exciting project, so I've been a little secretive with it."

Korra ripped open a crate and lifted the panels. She reached her hand into the packing foam, and, when she pulled her hand back out, it was encased in an intricate glove. Other crates revealed the same gloves to be in them.

Tarrlok whirled around to face Mr. Gan-Lan. "What are you doing with this Equalist weaponry?"

Lin accepted a glove from one of her officers and carefully examined it. "This is, indeed, Equalist weaponry. It generates electrical currents to disrupt chi paths and temporarily disable bending and muscle contractions."

Mr. Gan-Lan stared, horrified, before backing away. His wrist was seized by a coil of metal rope, halting his retreat. "I had nothing to do with this! These aren't mine—you have to believe me!"

"This looks very grim for you." Lin shook her head. "Whether you're innocent or not, we'll leave it up to the evidence. For now, we'll have to arrest you for aiding wanted criminals. Cabbage Corp will need to be shut down, pending further investigation."

Tears sprang to the elderly man's eyes as he was hauled away. "No, you can't do this! This is all one big setup—it's a conspiracy, I tell you! I sell nothing but the finest products for the good people of Republic City, and I don't sell or create weapons… No, not my Cabbage Corp!"

To the last of her team, Lin said, "Summon a medic to revive these people and start getting answers out of them. Why were they unconscious and locked up with Equalist weapons? Did they see who did this to them? Were they aware of Mr. Gan-Lan manufacturing or selling weaponry to the Equalists? Verify their identities with files from administration, then call for backup to transport these weapons to headquarters."

The metalbenders saluted, rushing away to carry out their orders, leaving Lin, Tarrlok, and Korra alone.

According to Suinnak, Red Monsoon was responsible for the attack on these factories, as ordered by Amon. If Korra's right about the robbery being a decoy, then Amon wanted an investigation to take place so the weapons would be discovered. But the question remains: Why did he expose a possible weaponry manufacturer? Tarrlok pondered.

This doesn't make sense. I've been thinking Sato's making weapons for the Equalists. Is Cabbage Corp really the one making these gloves? Were those workers from before also decoys? Korra wondered.

"You both appear as if you have some useful information," Lin remarked with growing annoyance. "Care to share?"

"Who were those people?" Korra asked, furrowing her brow. "There were some people dressed like employees, but they disappeared when you asked them to stay for questioning."

"They might actually be employees of Cabbage Corp, but we'll have to wait until my officers come back with their records. We can check the files against the people found in the storage, and, if any are missing, we can track them to their homes."

"If they weren't employees, then they were here for a reason, maybe as part of the attack. They might've incapacitated the workers, most likely with the gloves, and they took their uniforms to move around undetected. What were they doing?" Tarrlok asked.

"They were attempting to alter the crime scene," Lin reminded him.

"That hardly matters; there was nothing of importance at the crime scene. What else were they doing?"

"I saw a few of them over by these buildings." Korra waved her hand to indicate the space around them. "When I noticed them, they seemed nervous. They were gone when we started looking around."

"They were standing here, at the storage facilities?" Lin clarified.

"Well, nearby. They were clearly in sight over here when we were at the factories."

"Maybe they were just calling attention to this area. They were positioned just right so Avatar Korra could see them. Once that was done, they disappeared. They didn't intend to answer any questions; they were here to lead us," Tarrlok speculated with a finger to his lips. He thoughtfully stared off into the distance.

"So, it could be that they knew Mr. Gan-Lan was hiding these weapons and wanted us to find them so we could put a stop to it," Lin said. "That would imply the workers also knew about it, so our mysterious vigilantes assumed their identities to avoid interference. But did they also commit the robbery?"

Tarrlok glanced at her. "If we go with our original idea of Red Monsoon raiding the factories, they were the distraction. They were tasked with making a scene obvious enough to elicit an investigation. The 'employees' led us here. They could also be Red Monsoon—or something else entirely."

Inwardly, he mused, Again, why would Amon want us to find his weapons? That could mean this entire thing was an elaborate ruse. Equalists planted the evidence.

"Making Red Monsoon, in a very roundabout way, heroes of this particular theory," Korra finished with a flourish, amused at the irony.

Future Industries and Cabbage Corp are the definition of rivals, she thought. If Cabbage Corp employees are all benders, there's no way they'd be allied with the Equalists. Sato's supplying their weapons, not Gan-Lan.

"Well, let's collect some more information before we explore one possibility." Lin crouched to examine the unconscious people and immediately pointed out the electrical burns on their skin.

Korra locked eyes with Tarrlok.

This is a setup, they decided simultaneously.


The Avatar managed to squeeze out of the investigation early so she could return to Air Temple Island and get a few more hours of sleep before the evening's events. As she departed, Tarrlok reminded her to report back to City Hall for the task force's first assignment, to which she promised not to be late. She stopped by the shop she'd commissioned a mask from on the way back and retrieved the finished product. It was wrapped in a sheath of dull brown paper, and she decided not to look at it until it was safely away from prying eyes. As an afterthought, with the yuans Asami had generously given her, she purchased the figurine of Aang she'd admired.

Korra threw herself on her bed and unwrapped her new belongings. Her hungry eyes fell upon a freshly carved ivory-white mask. It boasted feminine features: two sky-blue ovals over the high cheekbones; arched, thin eyebrows; and a small nose. The mask smiled coyly up at her with blue-glossed lips, and she returned the smile, sliding her fingers through the eye holes. Having a mask crafted had been a whim, but she was delighted with the results. It was deceptively innocent—nothing like her, as she had wanted it to be.

She yawned widely as Naga bounded into her room and settled on the floor next to her bed. Her fingers reached down to stroke the silky white fur. As exhausted as she was, her overactive mind was keeping her from fading into blissful nothingness.

Not for the first time, Amon's ability to remove bending was a great source of stress for her. If it was a spirit-given gift, would she have to travel into the Spirit World to find someone who could take it away from him? The thought brought a grimace to her lips; the Spirit World was a goal as far away as her being able to produce a tiny whisper of airbending, as spirituality didn't mesh well with her personality or fighting style. No matter how Tenzin phrased his teachings, she couldn't master meditation or circular movements.

Her past Avatar lives were absent, as always. Granted, she hadn't needed them, never having been in a situation that she couldn't solve with her own words or fists, but she wasn't naive to think that she'd pass through an entire lifetime without ever needing them. Aang was eternally silent toward her—she was concerned that he wouldn't support her when she really needed his guidance, like with Amon's terrible weapon. She'd have to deal with it eventually, but how could she protect herself and all benders in the world from a technique she knew nothing about?

At some point in her drowsy, contemplative state, she drifted away into a light slumber, clutching the wooden figurine to her chest. Her last thought was, Aang, please, I need your guidance.

Blurry images swam through her subconscious. They felt like memories, but they weren't hers. The first was of an elderly woman with a motherly, soft smile. Korra reached out for her to grab her outstretched hand, but it wasn't tangible—or she wasn't. Regardless, the woman disappeared inside of the shadowy inn behind her, and, when Korra tried to follow her, she was struck still by a sudden scream piercing the air. Her ears prickled with the wailing of suffering people begging for help, but she couldn't pinpoint where they were. Before long, they were silenced, and the scenery shifted.

A woman's comb, an ornate Water Tribe design, sat before her. Emotions tinged the atmosphere as if she were listening to someone telling a story, one about a bender of the Southern Water Tribe, a courageous woman with combative prowess. White-hot fury, disgust, and helplessness bled in murky hues as the Fire Nation raided the woman's small village, promptly followed by the inky blackness of metal bars enclosing her. Her stomach crawled with starvation, and her body sagged under its own weight from malnutrition. Her skin cracked in her yearning for a few life-sustaining drops of water, just enough to wet her dry, aching lips.

When the blackness swallowed her, the metal bars disappeared. The elderly woman stepped out of the abyss, all traces of gentle kindness having vanished as her eyes glinted with a sinister intention. A field of delicate flowers swayed to life around them, and the woman revealed herself to be a waterbender. Korra immediately recognized her movements; it was a traditional and cherished form taught by the masters of her tribe. Warmth flooded through her in the realization that she was kin.

There was no water in the field, but the flowers wilted under the power of her stances as she dragged the moisture from the flowers and wind. All the while, a foreboding aura hovered overhead, where a full moon bathed the scene in a pure-white luminescence. It was beautiful, inspiring, and essential to all benders—a priceless gift from a loving spirit.

A shrill, skin-crawling shriek pierced the night, and crimson gore spilled over the moon and smothered it. The elderly woman, cutting an intimidating figure in the shadows, bent her wrists, splayed her fingers, and threw her hands into the air. Offset by soulless pinpoints in place of eyes, her pale face twisted with manic sadism.

Korra was suddenly rooted in place. Fear, as sharp as an icicle shard and colder than any ice-encrusted ocean she'd ever fallen into, gushed through her veins. It ripped at her insides, forcing her to do its bidding. The sensation sung of the desperation of a tortured woman, stained with grotesque vengeance. Completely helpless, she opened her mouth to scream—

It was over.

The grimly murky memory was replaced with one that gleamed, bright and pristine. As the scene unfolded, Korra recognized her surroundings as City Hall. It was obviously one of her memories, but she didn't recognize any of the people seated at the council desk. A man with graying hair stood before her, blocking her view with an expensive tailored suit. Even with his back turned to her, she could sense the self-confidence that oozed from him.

Korra stared, uncomprehendingly, as the councilmembers sagged in their seats with identical expressions of agony, and, as she searched the room for the person responsible for what she recognized as bloodbending, her eyes returned to the man in front of her. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his laughter.

Suddenly, the man whipped around to stare directly at her with crazed icy-blue eyes. Despite how his hands were cuffed uselessly in front of him, she and the people around her buckled under the force of his psychic bending. His bloodbending grip was undeniably different from the elderly woman's from the previous memory; it sung another tale, one of madness and cruel domination—rough, cold, and murderous.

Through her fading gaze, she noticed the faint outlines of tendrils that were feeding on her strength and controlling her, as if she were a marionette attached to his strings. When she was lifted into the air, the pressure increased tenfold, to the point that it felt like razor wires were lacerating every inch of her skin, ripping a strangled cry from her throat. Her vision finally gave out, and she suffered blindly for several moments before she was thrown to the floor. The man retreated from her recovering sight, and, somehow, despite the lingering trauma, she dragged herself back to her feet to pursue him.

Korra didn't know how to airbend, but, like a master, she swirled in place and produced a large concentrated sphere of rapidly accelerating and intermingling wind currents. Leaping on it, she rode it out of City Hall and instantly spotted a carriage disappearing in the distance. Down the staircase she flung herself, her innards screaming in protest after the torturous bloodbending, but she ignored the pain—she had to catch the man before he could escape. With her hands, she manipulated the air around her for a massive burst of speed. Swinging her arm, she sent a scythe of wind at the carriage and struck it. It overturned from the impact and crashed against the ground, collapsing in a pile of destruction.

But the man wasn't done; undeterred, he clawed his way out of the wreckage and faced her down. The faint tendrils snaked out of him and took hold of Korra once again, wrapping around her neck, strangling. It was clear in the bloodbender's expression that he meant to kill her with it. She gasped for breath and clawed at the nothingness around her neck until they, too, were taken. Her wrists and ankles twisted on themselves, to the point of snapping the bones.

Her vision spotted as she gasped for breath, and her strength faded, her struggling weakening. She nearly fell away to unconsciousness, but, when it seemed like she was going to succumb to her death, her eyes flew open in sudden clarity. A blue aura surrounded her, vitalizing her and wrapping her in a protective embrace. She was immersed with unimaginable vigor and knowledge of the bending arts, her actions guided by one thousand masters—the Avatar State.

The bloodbender's tendrils were bright and shimmery to her eyes, and she knew that she could touch them. She cleaved through them with sheer willpower, and they fell away, unable to dominate the hundreds of waterbenders within her. Flying toward him, she slammed a foot against the ground, sending an earth dome shooting up around him and encasing him up to his upper arms. With him locked in place, she was free to lay a hand on his shoulder and a thumb against the chi point at the center of his forehead. But she couldn't stop herself when she severed his ties to his bending.

Yakone was a master unlike any other, a bodiless voice intoned. He could bloodbend without stances, without the strength of the full moon.

A thought swirled around in her subconscious, spoken by a thousand different voices all at once. Finality laced the dark words as it declared, Bloodbending turns its user's emotions against him, mutating him into a seeker of vengeance. Its whispers are sweet, promising power but demanding sacrifices. Its path is paved with bloodstained dreams and fallen loved ones. It rips everything from those who dare to call upon it, leaving lifeless husks in its wake. Bloodbending is not the strings; it is the puppet master.


"Thank you for arriving on time, men—and Avatar," Tarrlok announced to his assembled task force.

Three waterbenders and three earthbenders stood ramrod straight, at attention like trained soldiers. They, along with Tarrlok, were dressed in identical uniforms of purple and dark blue with pauldrons, breastplates, shin guards, and helmets. Korra tried to mimic the militaristic posture, and, with a lopsided smile, she raised a hand.

Tarrlok acknowledged her with an indulgent smile. "I assume you're going to ask about your uniform. You'll find yours up in the closet in my—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Korra raced out of the council room, located her uniform in his office, and threw it on, and she hopped back in while adjusting her boots. Falling back into formation, she knocked into one of the waterbenders and offered a muttered apology. His only reaction was to glance at her before facing forward again.

"You're the finest earth- and waterbenders this city has to offer. All of you are innovative masters. In a team like this, we'll operate as one bender, and our skills will complement each other's. I expect nothing but the greatest effort from all of you." Tarrlok studied them for several seconds. "We've been granted Satotrucks and a fire engine, and we have the authority to arrest the Equalists and their allies. The fire engine will provide gallons and gallons of water for our use. Now, I'll discuss tonight's assignment."

The task force remained still and silent as the councilman began to pace.

"I hired a few men to go undercover in Dragon Flats. As you all know, it's populated by all three triads, as well as a staggering amount of nonbenders. According to my intel, there are also hidden chi-blocking training camps. We'll find as many as possible tonight and detain the Equalists with an efficient surprise attack. Earthbenders will use vibrations to search for the camps and then carve tunnels into them, and waterbenders will flood the room and freeze everything inside. That's when we move in to make the arrest. In three fluid motions, we should have the job done. Any questions before we head out?"

"What do we do with the Equalists we arrest?" Korra asked when nobody else spoke up.

"They'll be transported to the police headquarters, and Chief Beifong's team will extract any useful information."

"Got it."

"Okay, let's move out!" Tarrlok commanded, leading them out of City Hall, where Satotrucks and the fire engine were waiting.

Korra climbed into the backseat of the first vehicle, as Tarrlok slid into the driver's seat. "Won't it be obvious if we drive into Dragon Flats like this?"

He looked at her in the rear-view mirror as he turned the key in the ignition. The Satotruck rumbled to life, and he turned his attention to the road as he drove. "It'll be very obvious, and that's why we'll park in Midnight Abode and walk there."

"Since Dragon Flats is so large, it may take us a few days to search it, right?"

"It depends; at this time, less people will be out to interfere. We could clear several blocks in a matter of minutes, especially in small teams. You and I, along with another team, will cut through the center, and the other two teams will search around us to the north and south."

"What about water? We have one fire engine and four teams."

"Unfortunately, one is all the station could supply. If any Equalists are discovered, one person will have to stay at the training camp as a lookout, and the other will have to bring the fire engine."

"Well, in that case, I have a suggestion—I noticed a few Red Monsoon guys carrying full waterskins to fight with. It seemed like a good idea. Maybe we should do the same in case we run into trouble early."

"Excellent suggestion. We'll start doing that tomorrow evening." His tone reflected approval. "We'll be unstoppable."

"Councilman," she began as one last thought occurred, "I, er, never actually learned the seismic-wave technique as part of my earthbending training…"

"No matter. We'll do the best we can."

Not much longer after silence fell over them, they entered the southwestern gate of the Midnight Abode borough. The streets had been flattened to allow traffic to pass through unhindered, but the houses were still damaged and eerie with silence. With the streetlamps off, their way was lit only by the setting sun.

Tarrlok parked, turned off the engine, and hopped out. He opened Korra's door for her, a gesture reminiscent of the evening of the gala, and, when she cocked her eyebrow at him, he said, "A gentleman never sheds his title, regardless of the situation."

She flashed a flustered grin. "Well, thanks."

When the rest of the task force members arrived and parked their vehicles, they began heading toward the dividing street between the boroughs, which was where Korra had commissioned her mask. The woodshop was closed for the evening, as were most of the vendors and stores along its cement path. Dull orange light from the streetlamps bathed the street.

Once in Dragon Flats, the teams divided without fuss. Two benders headed toward the northern section, two others toward the southern. Tarrlok, Korra, and the last two benders split up around the main street that snaked through tightly packed businesses and homes, cutting through the center of the borough. There were a few people out enjoying the peaceful dusk, but they spared the task force few moments of their attention.

Tarrlok nodded to Korra, who returned it. With that, they began their search.


Later that night, Korra sat in her windowsill, contemplating the soft light of the moon over the silent air temple. Her mask was in her lap, and she turned the figurine of Aang over in her hands. White Lotus guards patrolled, but she hardly noticed when their footsteps passed by her window. Once again, she'd been so busy that she couldn't catch the airbenders before they retired for the night.

The task force had spent close to three hours scouring every inch of nonbender territory, and nothing came of it. There'd been few signs that Equalists were even operating within Dragon Flats, other than a very sneaky cellar under a tiny bookstore. The other teams reported a few other cellars in various districts, but they were all deserted—cold, unlit, and cleared. But it was a good start; they were free of cobwebs and dust, meaning they'd been used recently.

"We'll come back at another time and stake them out," Tarrlok had ordered before dismissing them. Next time, they wouldn't come back empty-handed, now that they knew exactly where to look.

Korra looked down at the wooden figurine and thought back to the strange memories during her nap. Softly, she asked it, "You gave me those visions as guidance, didn't you, Aang?"

Her eyes traced the details of his carved face. For so long, she'd wondered if she would ever connect with her past lives. Now that it had happened, she was filled with foreign emotion. It was like she'd always been alone, stumbling blindly with a facade of confidence, but there was a presence of another person—several people—watching ahead and guiding her, caring about her. It boosted her self-esteem, lost through her encounters with Amon and the abandonment of her friends.

She pondered the first memory, the one that seemed familiar to her. Katara used to share stories of her adventures with Aang and her brother, Sokka. Along with Toph Beifong, an earthbending prodigy, and Zuko, the man who entered an era of peace as the new Fire Lord, she had more stories than there was time for telling.

With ill-concealed disgust and warning, Katara once glossed over the subject of bloodbending just so the young Avatar was aware of its existence. It's a very dark bending art. While it may appear to have uses in healing, it corrupts those who wield it.

Young Korra, wide-eyed, had begged for more information about the mysterious technique. She was fascinated by what sounded like a scary story. Katara relented to her pleading, referring to the tale as 'The Birth of Bloodbending.'

Late in their journey to defeat the tyrannical Fire Lord Ozai, they'd encountered an elderly woman, Hama, living in the Fire Nation. Hama told them of her youth as a waterbender in the Southern Water Tribe, alongside Katara's grandmother, and how she'd been captured during a Fire Nation raid. For years, Hama was imprisoned, at which point she slowly came to the realization that water was everywhere. Anything with water within it could be controlled, but only during a full moon, when a waterbender's strength was at its peak, could blood be manipulated.

With that knowledge, bloodbending was created. Hama honed her new skill on rodents and eventually used it to escape the prison. She later sought revenge against the Fire Nation, blending into their culture as a nondescript innkeeper and capturing people during the full moon. She stranded them in a mountain prison, tortured them, and left them to die. But it was never enough—it would never be enough. Her heart was hollow, and, no matter how much she tried, nothing could fill it.

Katara had explained that Hama taught her several useful techniques, including the ability to draw moisture from the air and suck the life out of living beings. She'd even admitted that she learned how to bloodbend when Hama turned on Aang and Sokka, but she never used it again and had it outlawed entirely.

"But bloodbending saved you guys, which makes it a good thing," Korra had quipped. She'd never forget the withering look Katara gave her, heralding an extra-intense training session the following morning, bright and early, just like Korra hated.

The Avatar chuckled to herself, fondly recalling her younger days, and she brushed her thumb over her mask's eternal blue smile. As she mulled over her second vision, a frown replaced her humor. She didn't know any of the people that were in City Hall that day, but the memory was so vivid and detailed—she knew she'd watched it through Aang's eyes. His memory introduced her to a very unique bender: a psychic bloodbender. The man could bend without lifting a finger, and the results were terrifying.

Korra told Amon during their first meeting that nobody had the right to remove another person's bending, no matter how they used it, and she still felt the same way, even after having witnessed Aang's memory. She wanted to know more about the bloodbender. Did he end his life, too broken after losing his bending? Or did he rot in prison for the rest of his days? Most importantly, if he were still alive, would he want revenge against the Avatar?

She thought back to the sensation of being bloodbent. She'd never been afraid, not even when she once plummeted through thin ice into the frigid ocean; not when she angered Katara with her innocent comment about bloodbending and suffered severe punishment for it; not when she arrived, completely alone, in Republic City.

But there was nothing quite like someone having complete control, able to manipulate veins and squeeze organs—or, in her particular instance, able to decide if she could keep her bending or not. She'd never experienced true fear until she met Amon, and she hadn't re-encountered that fear until Aang introduced her to a bloodbender's grip.

Aang was warning her about bloodbenders—why? Were there some in Republic City? With it outlawed, they'd have to hide their abilities well. They were considered the vilest of benders; nobody would ever willingly ally with them…

Korra stared at her mask as a crazy idea came to her.


The following morning, the Avatar peered between the branches of a thick evergreen tree in Republic City Park. Below her, a crowd gathered in front of a stage and intently listened to the ramblings of the man on top of it.

"The Equalists have grown exponentially, and they'll only get bigger! The police and task force think they can barge into homes and businesses, demanding information about Equalist activity, but they're foolish! Amon has plans for all of them, and he won't stop until Republic City falls to the Revolution," he exclaimed, tossing posters of the Equalist leader into the crowd. Patting a generous jar at his feet, he added, "With your donations, you can support the Equalists in their valiant mission."

Korra took that as her cue to drop out of the tree. Shoving her untied hair out of her sight, she strolled through the crowd and was followed by shocked murmurs. She heaved herself onto the stage and kicked the donation jar hard enough to propel it off the side, where it shattered and scattered coins. Turning to face her spectators, she folded her hands behind her olive-green coat and stared down at them through the eye holes of her mask—a terribly familiar stance that did well to hold their attention.

"What's the meaning of this?" demanded the man sharing the platform with her. "Who are you?"

Ignoring him, she addressed the people, in a slightly lower voice than her usual one, "Greetings, citizens of Republic City. I'm not here to ask for donations for the Revolution or to spout propaganda that you've already heard a hundred times over. I'm here to tell you the truth, and you won't be pleased to hear it."

More park-goers drifted closer to listen to her. Korra recognized a few faces—several of the homeless people who'd encouraged her to speak to the city council, as well as Lihua, her son, and a man she could only assume was her husband.

"Amon and his followers have fed you nothing but lies to persuade you to join their cause. It was all too easy for them; this city's been terrorized by bending gangs since it was founded, and, now, many of you are sleeping in the park. You're chased away from fishing in the ponds for something to fill your stomachs, and you wonder if the suffering will ever end. You're promised by your Equalist friends that there'll be a place for those who don't want to fight, that you'll be taken care of, your needs met. Well, where is it?" Korra spread her arms out at her sides, palms to the sky. "Why are you still stuck foraging for nuts in the park while winter approaches? If you support a cause, you should be appreciated, don't you agree?"

"The Equalists care about all of their followers," the man protested. "It's none of your business, Ms. Mask-Lady, but they have some big plans in the works."

"Such as?" questioned a person from the crowd.

"Uh… I'm not at liberty to discuss confidential Equalist plans! If you want to know, attend one of their meetings!"

"Where?" asked another.

"That's private!" He huffed and crossed his arms.

Korra suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "As I said, nothing but false hope and lies. I bet this man knows as much about their inner workings as you all do. He's blinded by his hope, and he thinks that he'll be treated to a feast and an open-armed welcome if he stands up here and sings praises about Amon. He also thinks he can squeeze donations out of you if he says they're for the Equalists."

"Lies! She doesn't know what she's talking about!"

"Amon is the one who lies—he's a hypocrite and a deceiver. He sits on his throne and laughs about how he's fooled us all into thinking he's someone to be admired and followed. He flaunts his gift, his ability to take away bending, and tells you it's okay because it was given to him by the spirits."

Here we go. I hope I'm right, Aang.

"Amon is a bloodbender and uses his bending to sever benders' ties to their elements! He's already proven to be a waterbender; when I attended the Revelation the Second, he accidentally bent water when he was onstage."

Eyes lit up in recognition. The few disbelieving people who had begun walking away froze in mid-step at her declaration. They murmured amongst themselves.

Sold. She smirked triumphantly behind her mask.

"Ridiculous! Unbelievable, incredible, prepos—"

"—Were you even there?" Korra shot at the protesting man.

"Of course, I was!"

"Well, when was it?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing readily came out. "Why, it was just, uh, y-yesterday. Amon was telling us all about…"

The crowd promptly tuned out, and he lost them completely.

"Take some time to consider what I've told you, brothers and sisters. I hope you'll help others to see the truth." With that, Korra bowed to the explosion of applause. Knowing she'd just issued a very public challenge to Amon, her heart pounded frantically in her chest. She wondered how he'd react.