There had been no letter since their talk on the radio, which was a mild disappointment. Korra penned out a quick note asking for gloves, a pair of shoes, and a hat and then indulged herself and wrote about her father's shark prank. No doubt Asami would raise an eyebrow in question, but hopefully she wouldn't think much of it. Korra wrote 'Your friend' out of habit and signed the bottom.
Apparently her request reached Asami before Asami sent her letter because the letter arrived a week later with a package containing Korra's requested items. Korra amused herself by trying to put on one glove and not being able to squeeze her palm into it. Asami had slender…well, everything.
The thought made her flush.
By that time, the pelt had been processed by a leather worker in the capital and returned to Korra, along with a congratulatory note about her first hunted seal.
Senna worked with Korra every night on her project, and they made gradual progress.
By the time they left to go on their trip to the coast for the annual equinox mussel gathering, Korra had finished the hat and started on the boots. The gloves would be last because they would be the hardest to sew.
"Spring in two days," Senna said, settled comfortably behind Korra.
"Yep. I'm ready for longer days. I have so much less energy in the winter."
"Everyone does. There's nothing like the first touch of sun of the year." Senna nudged her and pointed across the snow drifts. Korra pulled Naga to a stop, and they watched a preoccupied white fox weasel as it leapt and twisted midair to dive into a soft snowdrift. He burrowed back up a moment later, empty-handed.
He listened again, perched, and leapt once more. This time, he emerged with a wiggling arctic mouse in his jaws. Korra laughed. "I don't think Pabu could do that."
The rest of the trip was comfortably quiet. They reached their destination with the moon high in the sky, casting a halo bridge along the snow. Someone in a heavy parka was waiting on them with a bright lamp in hand. That person stood and pushed back their hood.
"Spirits save me!" she gasped. "I thought it was just a wild polar bear dog. I was about to scream bloody murder. Bless you, Senna and Avatar Korra. Welcome to our little village!"
"Thank you, Winny. Korra, this is Winny, the matriarch of the Tribe of the Sea."
"I'm honored to meet you, Winny."
"Well, now," Winny said with a sniff. They dismounted and followed her to a surprisingly large meeting hall. "Come, bring your beast inside too."
The steps were sturdy enough to bear Naga's weight, and the building settled only mildly when she lay down in the entrance. Korra and Senna removed their boots and parka jackets in the entrance. Winny removed hers as well, revealing herself to be an incredibly small woman. She was even smaller than Toph, and rail-thin.
"You're tall," Winny said to Korra as Korra thought, You're short!
"Thanks."
"She takes after her father," Senna said.
"But she looks just like you, Senna! What lovely eyes. Come and sit. I don't think anyone's awake to greet you, but we're pleased to have you with us for the mussel gathering tomorrow."
After she left, Korra took some time to brush Naga's teeth and fur and massage her hips and shoulders. Naga fell asleep during the attention, and Korra was careful not to wake her when she snuggled down against Naga's warm side.
"How does the mussel thing work?" she asked her mother
"The tide is the lowest of the year at the equinox, leaving the ice dry. We go down under the dry ice and gather as many mussels as we can in about half an hour. Then the tide comes back in."
"Must be good shellfish."
"Very good." Senna smiled. "If you're lucky, we'll find a pearl."
Senna settled into their shared furs for the night, but Korra remained awake for a little while longer. She pulled out the strips of bleached polar bear bone she was preparing to be the handle of Mako's pocket knife and used the small carving knife her father had lent her to continue to shape the design of flames down the length. She was nearing the point that all it needed was a good sanding, staining, and polishing.
Bolin's seal tooth necklace had been a good learning experience to figure out how to work with bone on a project like this. The last project she would finish would be an antler comb for Opal.
After finding a stopping point, Korra withdrew Asami's last letter from her parka for another read before sleep. She set it beside her as she sharpened her knife.
Dear Korra,
Two letters so quickly! I've been spoiled. I'm sorry I didn't write you before the second one arrived. Congratulations on your first seal! The prank sounded terrifying. I probably would have electrocuted the shark and myself if it had been me.
I did take a day off, but I ended up sleeping all day. I've been pushing myself too hard recently, but I can't seem to stop. There's always something else to do at work, another meeting, another design, another 'fire'.
'Salty Otter's Tit'. I don't think I plan to try that one. I doubt I'll be able to find it. I've sent an interesting blend a man at the tea shop on my block recommended. It's a black tea blend with a hint of saffron. I've always thought saffron was a flat, paint-like taste, but he recommends it highly. Let me know what you think.
Still making steady progress on the snowmobile design. For that, my letter is short; there's just not much going on other than work. I did go into the spirit portal again, but it was different. It was dark, thick. I thought I should tell you, but I'm sure you're aware. Maybe it was just a weird day, but I think I'll wait for you before I step through the portal again.
I haven't met Mako's girlfriend yet, but I'll describe her as soon as I have.
The last period was a heavy blot of ink, as if Asami had rested her pen there for too long. Her next words seemed hurried—the handwriting was slightly sloppier than the rest of the letter.
Sometimes I think about all the time we wasted before becoming friends. I find myself wishing that I'd met you first, even if it meant hitting you with my scooter.
I'm sorry if I seem pushy, but do you have any idea when you might be coming back? I miss you. I love getting your letters, but it's not the same. I'll try to call on the radio again soon.
Love,
Asami
Korra folded the letter and slid it into her satchel. With a sigh, she burrowed into the furs next to her mother, taking comfort in her mother's scent. She slept deeply only to awaken when her mother rubbed her arm.
"Honey, it's time to wake up."
Korra sat up and stretched, popping several joints in her back. She did the same with her neck, despite her mother's disapproval. They dressed and ate a quick breakfast of lard and berries. Korra considered her annoying shaggy hair and tugged half of it back into a short wolftail. Senna, for her part, rebraided her hair. Korra's own braids that contained her forelocks had remained in place overnight so she didn't bother with them.
They emerged into the village to find it quite awake. The sun was up, which was fantastic to see in the morning.
Introductions went around, and then the entire village packed up and set on their way to the coastal ice. Only a few chosen adults, including waterbenders, went to the mussel gathering grounds. The rest of the village remained at safe distance, preparing their pots for a boil.
There was something mesmerizing about watching the ocean's water level sink before her eyes. She'd never seen anything like it. According to her mother, the ocean dropped a good forty feet to allow this venture.
"The tide is out," Senna pronounced, and she opened a hole in the glacier with a pull of waterbending. The villagers moved efficiently by dropping the ladder into the dark hole. Korra dropped in last, her eyes wide to take in the eerie green hue of the under ice, which was tilted up in a tent-like bow. Below her feet were rocks worn smooth by the water and ice, and the ice that surrounded them seemed to eat up their noise. It groaned occasionally, raising the hair on Korra's neck.
Beautiful but deadly, this place. It was alien, even more alien than the spirit world. This was her home.
She stooped and crawled into a particularly tight area of the ice to find a mass of mussels. She gathered handfuls of closed black-shelled mussels, her hands aching from the cold. Her breath steamed in front of her face and she dropped as many mussels into her bucket as she could manage.
It seemed only a few minutes later when Winny's sharp voice signaled. "Up, up. Back out now!"
Korra backed out of her wedge with bucket in hand. She motioned for everyone else to leave first, even as she felt the slow rise of water in the distance. The ice was groaning and shifting noticeably now, but she had the best chances to make it out anyway. As it stood, she climbed the ladder and stood on ice with minutes to spare.
They all laughed out their nervous tension and walked back to the waiting celebration. Behind them, the sun set in beautiful reds and purples. Korra took the bucket her mother carried, and Senna put a hand on her elbow as they walked back. She judged Korra's bucket. "Good haul."
"Thanks. I'm just that awesome."
Senna laughed at her deprecation. "It'll taste wonderful."
She was right. Their catch was delicious: chewy, briny, and rich. Usually shellfish were cooked in some kind of vinegar base, but these were perfect without any seasoning. The entire tribe laughed and joked their dinner away. Each new pot was watched for the telltale opening of the mussels, and then they were scooped out and shared as they cooled. Korra was well on her way to filling up, with most of her fingertips burned from handling the hot shells. She bit down a shockingly hard mouthful. She spat into her palm and stared in shock.
A pearl, a small golden one. And alongside it was a piece of tooth. "You're got to be kidding." She reached a finger in her mouth and felt along her upper left arcade. Yep, she'd broken off the inner point on one of her premolars.
"Ouch! Let me see!"
Korra tilted her head back and opened her mouth. Senna frowned. "I don't see the pulp. Does it hurt?"
Korra clenched her teeth and released them. She shook her head.
"Probably doesn't need to be fixed then. You should see a dentist when we get back. Maybe they can reattach it." Senna touched the pearl in her palm. "Lovely. Surprisingly round."
Korra nodded, pursing her lips as she considered the pearl in her palm. Oh well, she broke a tooth off in sacrifice. It would look good on a strip of maroon ribbon.
"That's good luck," Winny proclaimed. "Rarely get a pearl big enough to break a tooth off on. Usually just swallow 'em down and shit 'em out none the wiser."
"Do you ever sell them anyway?" Korra grinned at the thought.
Winny cackled. "Imagine some rich woman in Republic City wearing a ring with a pearl that was shit out by a Southerner. Oh, my lord, that would be a sight!"
By the time they got back, it was dusk. There was still time in the day, and the members of the quiet village seemed curious about their visitors. They laughed and joked and had more serious talks about the ice and the seasons.
Eventually, the chief, Winny, caught Korra's eye before she spoke. "Some rabid animals tearing up our traps. Maybe we can go look tomorrow, Avatar."
Korra cocked her head. "Why do you think they're rabid?"
"They don't eat a damn thing caught in those traps. Kill them dead, rightly, but won't consume the flesh."
"And no damn tracks," one man said.
A chill passed down Korra's neck. More spirits? This was all too consistent to be coincidental. "I'll go with you tomorrow to look."
With that dark thought, Korra stepped out into the night air. She loved talking with them, but at the same time, she relished some quiet time alone. The evening was quiet, and the waxing moon was bright enough to illuminate the shore.
The bay was surprisingly close to the village, and at this time of year, the bay ice was firm and thick. She walked out onto it, wandering closer to where the ocean water lay beneath the ice. Out in the bay, dark dorsal fins emerged from the water. Korra counted six wolf whales, and she watched them circle lazily around the bay. After her brush with what could have been a dark spirit, those physical whales seemed benevolent.
"Don't go any closer." Senna's hand around her arm surprised Korra. She felt like a little kid in that moment, daring to take one step closer to the edge of the ice.
"What?"
Senna pointed across the ocean water at the pod of wolf whales.
"Those are the first wolf whales I've seen," Korra admitted.
"Man eaters," her mother replied ominously.
"I thought they were harmless." Korra glanced from her mother back to the pod that circled closer to their position on the ice. They ate local fish and seals, and their only danger was that they hunted the same food as many of the coastal tribes.
"The native pods are. Those are nomads, and nomads hunt and eat men. Look at their dorsal flukes: tall and thin. Friendly ones are short and curved."
"But they're the same type of whale?"
"Like different breeds of cat or dog." Senna shook her head. "When I was a girl, I saw a man killed by a pod of the nomadic wolf whales. They broke ice from the shore with the man on it and slid on one side to tip him into the water. They flung him around for several minutes, then tore his arm off." She shuddered.
"Wow. That still bothers you, doesn't it?"
"Tall and thin are not friends. Curved and short can stay in your port."
Korra shook her head. "I don't remember that rhyme."
They watched those whales for a few more minutes. Then Senna said, "It does still bother me. I remember the memory, and I remember the feelings I had when I remembered it. I sometimes have nightmares about it, though Aang knows I've seen far worse injuries before. Some things just stick with you."
Korra closed her eyes, and that flayed man was there, covered in flies, his stench in her nostrils. "At the reeducation camp, they butchered people. There was a table with strips of ribs and a leg cut up into steak. There were people strung up by their arms to suffocate. The one I remember most is a man on a cross that had been skinned to his waist. It was so much of that, healing that, seeing that, talking to those people. I…"
She swallowed against the thickness of her saliva. "It's getting better. But sometimes when I see a seal butchered, I think that people can look the same way, and I'm back there again."
"We butcher seals because we need them to survive. There's no cruelty or enjoyment in the killing itself. We don't cause pain unless it's to directly end a life." Senna took her hand and squeezed. "You did nothing wrong."
"I wish I could have saved them. The dead and the living."
Her mother stepped closer to frame her face in her hands. Her thumbs smoothed over Korra's cheeks soothingly. "You would take on the burdens of the world if you could. That's the person that you are, Korra. But you have to let go of some of it, sweetie, especially the parts that you have no control over."
Korra sank forward into her mother's arms and blinked out a few tears, taking deep breaths and settling into herself. "They thought people were meat."
"But they aren't. And you don't think that way. Those men who did that and thought that are gone—dead. Don't let them linger inside you."
All she could do was nod into her mother's shoulder.
"Every time you think of the ugliness that you saw there, find something good to think about instead. Something good that happened to you or that you saw someone do for someone else. Focus on the good, not the bad. Tell me something good that happened when you were traveling the world."
Korra considered for a few moments, realizing that she had as many good memories as bad ones. "There was an old woman at a coffee-plantation I worked at for a few weeks. She said I looked like I needed a grandmother. She shared her lunch—some crazy spicy bean paste bun—and would just talk to me every day. She outlived four husbands, six children, and three sisters, but she said she still loved life and giving back for all that she'd received. I left her most of my earnings when I went. Her name was Rin."
She realized she was smiling into her mother's shoulder, and she stayed in that place, thinking of Rin and those two weeks at the plantation. All the while, Senna's hands rubbed her back gently. After a few minutes, Senna spoke. "I used to put you on my shoulders. You wanted to see and do everything. You loved everyone, never met a stranger… After the White Lotus took you away, you became sullen, quiet. You were disrespectful to your teachers, and all you seemed to enjoy was fighting. You were always so desperate to stay with us. We should have taken you away to somewhere they couldn't find us."
Sullen, distrustful? Korra couldn't remember when she stopped trusting her bending teachers. She'd simply learned they'd leave after a while, just as she was getting attached to them. Her only masters that remained were Katara and Tenzin. She had had at least a dozen firebending and earthbending teachers, and the only ones she really remembered well were the first ones.
"It's…" Korra swallowed down her bitter tears. "It's too late now. I love you, Mom." She hesitated. "I've started to wonder why they did what they did."
"I have for a long time," Senna said. "Your father…and I as well…we were worried about your safety. Every time we demanded more time with you, there would be a new threat they could cite. But there was never an attack."
"Unalaq was friends with Suntoq." The implication that the leader of the White Lotus was embroiled with Unalaq would be enough for Senna to understand.
Senna took a sharp breath. "How do you know this?"
"Zaheer," Korra admitted.
"How can you bring yourself to even speak to that man?! After what he did to you?!"
"He was the person who broke me out of this funk," Korra defended. "I can't forgive him, but in some things, I trust him. He cares about the world, and he cares about the spirits. I was in the way of what he thought was best for the world. It was never personal."
"Which is why he can't be trusted! He tried to kidnap you when you were a child, Korra! That's evil. That man is evil."
Korra sighed. "I don't think people are evil. They do evil things, but they aren't evil. Anyway, if he's right about Suntoq, I'm not sure what to do."
"What do you mean, honey?"
"I'm thinking about disbanding the White Lotus."
Senna's eyes widened. "Can you do that? They're a powerful organization right now."
"Aang created their current iteration. I think I can disband it. Or at least turn them to doing something else. What they did to me wasn't right, not for me or for the Avatar. And I won't let them do that to the next Avatar."
"Don't talk about that, honey."
Korra had to swallow before she spoke; her voice was thick. "I came close, Mom. I can't ignore the future the way I ignored the past."
Senna framed Korra's face between her hands and tugged her gaze down. Her expression was fierce. "You will live a long, happy life. You'll have many children, put your parents to the sea, and watch your children's children grow up. Do you hear me? You've lived through enough pain and heartache for your lifetime. The rest should be filled with happiness."
Korra's eyes stung with tears. She wrapped her mother into a hug. "I just want to be happy," she admitted.
"Tell me how I can help you."
"You are, Mom."
The trap that Winny led her to was a place of gore. The blood that had been spilled was untouched; it had frozen into the snow in a gory red mess. The spray was wide, as if the animal—a fox weasel—had been flung to and fro while it bled to death.
Korra reached for the snow and concentrated on the spiritual energies. The bayou tree didn't reach this far, and whatever had been here hadn't left a trace of energy behind. Korra shook her head as she stood up.
There were no animal tracks, only the tracks of villagers who had approached close enough to see what had happened at the trap. There was nothing but the stripped remains of a fox weasel and its blood. The trap was destroyed.
Tenzin had once told Korra that the usual explanation was the easiest one. Oddly, the easiest explanation was that a spirit had done this.
She sent Winny back and kept Naga nearby as she slipped into the spirit world. She wandered for a little while but received no clues as to what was going on in the South Pole. There were dark patches in the landscape, like bruises on fruit. She experimented with purifying one, but the darkness returned as soon as she stepped away. When she came back to herself, the sun had tracked to the west and sent its needles of light across the sandy snow.
Her extremities hurt, despite Naga's certain heat. The wind had shifted to blow at her face, and now she had to massage herself and heatbend to bring warmth back into her face and limbs.
"That was stupid," she told Naga.
Naga whined and got up, exuding nervous energy. Korra heard the whisper of metal chains and turned sharply. Instead of the vision of herself that she feared, she saw an oily spirit circle her. It was fluidly fast, and it lashed at her with clear violent intent.
Korra's stiff muscles hindered her retreat, but the spirit also moved in an unexpected direction: it burrowed into her chest.
It should have hurt, but instead of pain, there was a deep pulsing wrongness of its oily spirit energy. That essence spread through her as she opened her mouth to scream.
And then she was somewhere else, swimming through the water, screaming a low, echoing scream as she watched her children pierced by dozens of spears. One was already being dragged onto a human vessel, and then her vision was gone with a stab of pain as a spear went through her eye—
She floated along in darkness for a while, confused about who and where she was, only knowing things were wrong—with her and with the world. This place wasn't made for her, and she needed the strength of light, and there it was, a beacon of purifying energy—
"Korra," came a soft, urgent whisper.
"Korra," that feminine voice said, with an undertone of a deeper male voice rumbling through it.
Korra. She was Korra, the Avatar. Korra sat up with a gasp of shock, her hands clawing at her chest. She rolled over, her mind finding the snow and ice and air unfamiliar, as unfamiliar as Naga who paced away from her and whined. She pushed herself onto her knees and touched her face before rolling over to stare up at the starry sky.
Here without lights to blot out the sky's brilliancy, there were millions of stars smeared across the canvas of the night. She found the sky bison and the airbender with his sharp tattoo and wondered how she knew those constellation patterns.
"Korra," she said with her own voice and thought to touch her face. The memory of Wan's time and the effect of spirit possession sent a cold trace of fear through her. Her body didn't want to move now; the cold had worsened within her extremities, and she felt like she had run for hours.
"Naga," she said quietly. "Come."
Naga paced towards her, and Korra crawled onto her saddle. She wondered where the spirit had gone. It didn't seem to still be inside her. She faded into sleep only to be jolted awake by her mother as Naga walked back into the coastal village.
"Korra?"
"Dark spirit," she said. She fell out of the saddle, and Senna caught her around the shoulders, her face lined with worry.
"Korra, what happened?"
They took her inside, warmed her hands and face, and fed her gradually warming broth. She leaned against the hut wall and soaked up the warmth of the fire. Water and food were needed, but what she wanted most was to curl up and sleep.
"What happened, Avatar?" Winny asked.
"A dark spirit was messing up your traps. It possessed me; never happened before. Had a vision of whales being killed. A whole pod. I don't know what happened to the spirit."
Winny shook her head. "There was just that mess out west with the seal pups being slaughtered. We had no part of that. Heard tell there were sightings around them. We've had issues with traps for the last few days only."
Maybe it was all related. Her knowledge of the link between the physical and spiritual world was tenuous as best. In Republic City—and likely Toph's swamp—the vines of the bayou tree had married the two. But here in the south, there was always a thought that the spirits were linked to the animals and seasons.
Maybe this all related to why the airbenders had been taken by the spirit vines in the city. Korra still hadn't have a handle on why that had happened.
Was overhunting upsetting the balance? Korra couldn't process much more. Senna awoke her as she tugged her into their sleeping furs, and she didn't wake with any sort of energy until the next morning.
They stayed two more days at the village. Senna spent her time divided between waterbending lessons and a few healing sessions—one session that was an eight hour labor. These people were too remote (and too proud) to travel to Harbor City for modern medicine. Senna was a practiced midwife.
Korra was not. She'd never been present during labor; she was surprised by her own awe. The dilation and contractions were pretty horrifying, but she understood how worth it all that pain was when the new mother placed her crying baby against her breast. She felt a sharp maternal tug; she wanted that.
Senna must have sensed it. "Do you want children?" she asked as she bathed back in the igloo they shared.
"Yeah."
"You've always been good with children."
"Kids are awesome. Adults, on the other hand…"
Senna seemed about to say something, but she stopped herself. Korra could imagine the question would be along the lines of: is there someone you want to have a child with?
Korra pondered that question. She cared for Asami, enough to want more, enough to miss her terribly as a friend alone right now. But could she picture herself having a family with Asami in the future? It would certainly require a closer relationship than the one they shared now. The thought of raising a family together made her blush harder than wondering about sex. It made her think about all the things she didn't know about the customs here in the South.
On their way back the next day, she found herself asking: "Mom?"
"Yes, honey?"
Korra felt awkward asking the question, but she forged ahead. "Can you show me how to build an igloo?"
Senna gave her a squeeze. "Sure. Let's find a good place to do it."
About half an hour later, Korra crouched on the snow with her mother. Senna used a long, flat blade to check the consistency of the firm snow they stood on. "It has to be firm, but soft enough to cut. Feel this."
Korra withdrew her hand from her glove and put it flat on the snow, sensing the consistency with her waterbending. Then she took the knife from her mother and pushed it into the snow, trying to memorize the feel. "This is going to take practice, isn't it?"
Senna smiled gently. "Practice will help."
Most people Korra's age had probably made over a dozen igloos in their lives, at least those that didn't live in the coastal capital. Many of them had probably practiced for symbolic purposes. It was a mark of adulthood anymore, a sign that you could take care of yourself and your loved ones. It was also a traditional way to ask someone if they would marry you.
"This seems like a good area." Senna began to cut into the ice, making a line several feet across. She started making perpendicular cuts at both sides of the line. "It's important that the blocks are the same size in all dimensions, at least for the first few rows."
With practiced movements, she cut the first block and left her knife in the gap as she wiggled it enough to break it from its connection below. "Help me, Korra. My back has been bothering me recently."
"Do you want me to do some healing?"
"Mm, no thank you, honey. I just have to avoid straining it."
Korra took her mother's place and withdrew the block from the hole with a grunt. Four by two feet and several inches across, the block was oddly heavy, but not beyond Korra's strength. Behind her, Senna was tracing a circle across the snow, surrounding the area where they'd selected their first snow block. "It has to be as close to a perfect circle as you can manage. You'll want a big enough igloo to lie down flat in too. Unfortunately, you took after your father in height. Bring the block here."
Korra set the block in place where her mother directed. Senna used her knife to trim each side so that the block stood on its own. It was shockingly geometric for the simple chipping job. "You've made a lot of these, haven't you?"
Senna smiled. "Before you were born, your father and I didn't have a tribe for a while. We lived out of igloos like these."
"You didn't have a tribe?" It was the first Korra had heard of this. Her parents didn't talk about the past often.
Senna took a long breath. "My father was…is a traditional man. He never approved of your father. We both knew if we married that I wouldn't be welcome in my family any longer."
"So you were disinherited?" Korra was shocked.
Senna nodded. "I loved your father; I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't make a life with him."
Korra put her gloved hands flat on the ice. Her voice sounded odd to her own ears. "Is my grandfather still alive?"
"Yes," Senna said quietly.
That hurt; it hurt a lot. Just as Korra thought she might have a chance of learning her people, she realized her parents kept another secret from her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Korra, he's not a part of our life anymore. Why tell you about a family you can never have? Your father and I knew that we would have to be your only family. I'm sorry if that upsets you, but it was a decision we made long before you were born. I knew I would tell you eventually, but as a child, it seemed unfair. Children tend to blame themselves, and you had so little family already."
She could either be angry about this or push the thought aside for now. Korra considered the situation as she chipped another block from the snow. Ultimately, she was just too tired to hold a grudge.
"Too thin," Senna said gently.
Korra measured the upright snow block against the hilt of her mother's knife before working to cut another piece free. This one was met with approval. Senna used the smaller knife on her belt to trim it and set it into place. And so they worked until they were surrounded by a complete ring of snow blocks.
"This part is one of the most important. You have to slant the row for the next set of blocks." Senna sliced along the edge of the snow blocks to angle it downwards to the ground. She left the adjacent snow block whole and pointed at the abrupt edge left behind. "The next row starts here."
Korra continued to slice at the snow, working up a sweat in the process. She did her best to keep her blocks regular in shape. She dropped one block, watching it burst into a puff of snow and giving a sharp curse, "Fucking hogmonkeys!"
Senna burst into laughter. "Where in the world did you hear that?"
"Toph," Korra replied, pursing her lips as she worked on the replacement block. "So are we cutting out the whole floor?"
"Yes."
Each new row required greater slanting, and Korra paused in her task to watch her mother gently shape the ends of the blocks to greater angles. It didn't seem possible that the blocks would sit at the angle required for the highest part of the igloo, but everything held together firmly. The snow squealed as Senna grinded the blocks together, a sound that Korra had used to find obnoxious. She'd apparently grown out of that.
"Push the last block out." Senna pointed to the small hole in the ceiling.
Korra glanced down at the full-sized block in her hands. "It seems big."
"We'll trim it into place."
Korra stretched to angle the block and push it out of the small hole in the top of the igloo. She used Senna's smaller knife to keep a grip on it as she tilted it in the right orientation. Senna reached around her and trimmed at the edges until it settled firmly into the hole.
"So," Korra said into the semi-darkness. "Are we trapped in here forever?"
Senna smiled at her joke. She tapped the knife against her leg in a familiar gesture. "We cut our way out." She didn't proceed to do so. "Korra, is everything alright with the spirits?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know why that spirit went dark. It may be related to overhunting. I just don't… It's not something you can just ask over there. Zaheer and I have been trying to sort it out. There's a darkness all over there—some days worse than others. I'll figure it out."
"Are you okay? You were so exhausted that night."
"Better now. Not sure about that either, but I've been playing all this by ear. Don't worry, Mom."
"It's my job to worry, honey."
After that matter of fact statement, Senna cut a hole into the igloo wall just large enough for them to crawl out of. Senna got out first, and laughed when Korra's shoulders wouldn't fit through the hole.
As she expanded the width, she said, "You are so like your father."
Korra crawled out and helped her mother plug all the cracks in the igloo with powdered snow. After that, Korra cut one more block, she handed it to her mother inside the igloo and followed behind. Senna trimmed it to fit the hole and settled it in as their door.
"Air flow comes from the small hole under the door and the small one we left in the ceiling." Senna sighed and sat on the lumpy snow that was the floor. "You should spread several layers of fur on the floor. After that, the warmth of someone inside will melt the inner layers, and the cold wind will freeze the outside. A good igloo will stand strong against a blizzard."
"Thanks, Mom."
"And nothing warms an igloo better than two newly betrothed lovers."
"And I did not need to hear you say that." Korra's face burned at the thought.
Senna laughed. "Honey, you didn't think you could ask me how to build an igloo without me asking who you want to build one for, did you?"
Damn. She had hoped her mother would save her that embarrassment. Korra cleared her throat and glanced away.
Senna drew her gaze and raised an eyebrow. Her expression was serious. "Asami?"
Korra took a sharp breath and tilted her head away. She was terrified of admitting it. "I… Yes. Maybe. I don't know."
This was so much different than the childish crush she'd felt for Mako. This meant so much more. Though maybe she was reducing her feelings for Mako. The thing that scared her so much was the thought of losing Asami's friendship by asking for more. Or if Asami did want more and Korra messed it up because she didn't end up wanting that kind of relationship. She'd never considered that consequence when she'd thrown herself at Mako. Then again, she'd hardly had a friendship with Mako at that point.
Her relationship with Asami was just so much now.
Senna's gloved hand pushed into her own. "Does she feel the same way?"
"I…" She hoped so. She really did. But Korra really didn't know. She didn't know how girls were with each other, if Asami was just being a good girlfriend. If Mako touched her like Asami did, spoke to her like Asami did—which he never would because he was Mako—she would have assumed otherwise, but… "I really don't know. I've never had a friend, a girlfriend, so I'm not sure."
Senna squeezed her hand. "It will work out how it's supposed to, honey."
At the palace, they were greeted by the news that an unsanctioned vessel—likely from the Fire Nation—had been at the edge of the Southern Water Tribe's seas and had killed two pods of whales in their entirety a week before. Korra felt a shiver of fear as she remembered what it was like to be the victim in that scenario.
"Poor news prior to our Environmental Summit in a few months," Tonraq said bitterly.
Senna looked to Korra, who didn't feel like starting the conversation about the possible link with dark spirits. She would talk to her father later. It was a weight of responsibility: she would have to participate in the summit to persuade people to believe the link between abusing resources and dark spirits. Go figure: Unalaq might not have lied about everything.
Korra considered that with a bitter smile as she walked to her room.
A letter from Fire Lord Zuko had arrived while Korra was away; it was sitting on her desk unobtrusively. Korra flipped it over to judge the wax seal, smiling at how old-fashioned it was. The wax was red, printed with a stamp of a dragon. Her heartbeat began to thump loudly in her ears as she snapped the wax in half.
Zuko's script had become a little shaky, but it was still legible and had a royal sort of flair. He'd written:
Dear Avatar Korra,
I understand this information may be difficult to stomach. I myself was uncertain whether you knew about the financial situation of the White Lotus, which admittedly has changed since you've come out into the world. As such, I was uncertain if I should even broach the subject with you. Now you've beaten me to it.
Before you were found, Master Suntoq wrote to me to ask for financial help in the search for you. I gave a generous amount, in part for the nostalgia of my friendship with Avatar Aang.
When you were found, I let the White Lotus know you were welcome in my court to learn the ways of the Fire Nation and her people. Their reply was to ask for a donation. I was surprised, but I complied. I heard nothing else for several years. Admittedly, I was wrapped up in transitioning my rule to that of my daughter.
When Fire Lord Izumi wrote to the White Lotus, you were older, old enough to begin traveling the world to see the different cultures there. She stated again you would be welcome. We were declined. The White Lotus asked for another donation. At that point, Fire Lord Izumi stopped communicating with them. I sent funds from my own private coffers for fear that you would never see the Fire Nation. I was told that I could visit you in the South, which I did. And then I was sent away.
I recommended several excellent firebending instructors, but my recommendations were spurned in that too.
It was a difficult situation. My regret now is that I never realized how trapped you felt. A child should never grow up without freedom. My deepest apologies, Korra—for that and for how you're learning of the ugly situation now. Know, at least, that you are welcome to visit us still.
Ever at your service,
Fire Lord Zuko
Korra set the letter down. Zaheer had been telling the truth about this, and if this, was everything else right too? Her sight blurred with tears, and she set her head on the desk and cried in part because of the anger that burned deep. For the first time in a long time, she felt trapped with learned helplessness again.