A Legend of Korra Fanfic
By Sakura Martinez (aka SMTsukishiro)
Summary:
A promising engineering student. A mysterious woman capable of controlling the four elements. When their paths cross, the resulting collision not only changes their lives and themselves, but the fate of the entire world as well. [Korrasami AU]
Author's Notes:
As promised (from my Tweet yesterday), here is a brand new chapter.
I wish I could say a lot more in this part of the chapter notes, but my head still can't wrap around what happened in Game of Thrones, so you have to excuse me for that as I simply roll this chapter at you.
It's a bit short compared to the monstrous chapter before, but I do hope you all enjoy~ :)
Dream on; Fly on!
The Legend of Korra:
The Schism
Chapter 53: Prelude to Change
She was restless, even when everything had calmed down; even when danger had passed. She couldn't sit still; she couldn't keep her mind from wandering.
When the light deposited them back to the Audience Chamber, two things astounded them both. The first was the general lack of animosity against her. Those who had tried to harm her and her charges had sheathed their weapons and had given them respect and reverence. Granted, most of them were still fearful of her, and the Fire Lord and her son were still angry with her, but none of them turned those emotions into hostility and attacked.
Second was the way the halls and the room had reverted to the state they were in before the fighting started. Whatever had fixed and reconstructed it still left remnants of the magic—for Korra could not accept that anyone else could bend so efficiently to do such a thing, except her (in her good days). So it must be magic!—it had used. The floor, the pillars and columns, as well as the ceiling shimmered as though thoroughly (and extremely) polished. They even caught a glimpse of the actual reconstruction of the floor closest to the entrance. It was like an invisible force was pushing and pulling the chunks of debris and whatever damages had been made and putting them back together, piece by piece.
When they turned around, half-expecting a portal of some kind back to that strange place—a place that felt both like the Spirit and Human Realm—they were greeted with a pillar of fiery light with tendrils of flame dancing around it, stretching far beyond the ceiling and the roof of the palace.
Korra was about to reach out and touch the light—feeling it beckoning to her—when Lord Zuko spoke up from behind and congratulated her and Asami for a job well-done. The Avatar wanted to air-bend the old man across the room, or give him a good punch for what he did, but she forced herself not to. She didn't think Asami would appreciate that.
Zuko then proceeded to apologize to the Avatar on behalf of the people, and she was certain he would have gone on and on, trying to fill the tensed silence with something not so stifling had Asami not swayed on the spot.
Korra caught her just before she, herself, felt fatigue set in. Her muscles trembled with exhaustion, but she hid it well, not wanting to look weak as she gently held the Prodigy close and erect.
And though Asami waved Korra's concern away, it didn't ease the shorter girl's worry.
It was then that Lord Zuko reiterated to them that they were guests—honored guests—and had given each of them a room to rest.
It had been half an hour since and Avatar Korra was alone in the opulent room she had been given.
She didn't know why she felt the way she did.
Though it was confusing, she had already crossed off the temporary loss of Asami for company as the reason behind it. She wasn't that pathetic that she would cease to function normally without her now—or any of the others'—company. She had, after all, been living by herself with only the Four Great Spirits for company up until she left the Hallowmount and Nia Bayou.
And it wasn't as if Asami and the others were not close by that she couldn't just simply march into their own rooms to see them.
So, no, it wasn't the loneliness causing her restlessness. It was something that felt like it was under her skin, clawing out.
And even when Korra felt tired—so much so that she could collapse any second—she couldn't stop her pacing to lay on the bed, despite it looking so inviting.
When she finally managed to calm herself enough to lay down and rest, she felt a strong and jarring stab of pain on her shoulder, right where the Mark of Flames was. It felt like someone had run a very sharp blade through her that the Avatar quickly sat herself right back up to and inspected the appendage.
What she saw made her eyes widen, her face paled. She gritted her teeth.
What—? Korra's mind could not process anything other than the question spilling through her mouth. "What is going on?"
She dreamt of that figure bathed in ethereal light, surrounded by spirits. Though the person's face was hidden behind the blue light that emanated from their personage, Asami was certain they were looking directly at her.
She could sense the piercing gaze that, even in the Realm of Dreams, made gooseflesh rise and gave her cause to shiver.
She wasn't frightened, though. At least, the person she was in the dream wasn't.
Asami wasn't surprised to have dreamt of that surreal moment. She had tossed and turned on her bed that night—or should she say dawn?—wondering who it was, before sleep finally claimed her.
She wanted to tell Korra about it, but when a servant came and brought her to the Dining Hall to eat breakfast and was reunited with Opal and Kai, their Avatar friend was absent (as were the members of the Royal Family, but none of them could be bothered to ask the whereabouts of the Fire Lord, her son, and even Lord Zuko. They were, quite honestly, glad to be left alone by them).
The Prodigy had asked, of course, as did Kai and Opal, about Korra but the servant merely bowed in response and told them Korra didn't want to eat breakfast and had insisted on being left alone.
Which, really, none of them took well and told them something might be wrong with the diety-turned-human. She wasn't one to miss a meal, after all.
"Maybe she's just feeling extremely exhausted?" Opal supplied when all three of them had retired to Opal's room, and upon the Historian's insistence that she be told what had happened in her absence. "From what you told me, Asami, it seemed like she really tired herself out."
"I agree," Kai nodded. "She must have depleted much of her energy to have been bending left and right since we arrived here." He paused, scratched the back of his neck as he looked around. "I have to apologize, though. Causing that distraction gave us more trouble than it was worth."
Opal glared at Kai. "Now that's an understatement! Not only did you endanger all of us, you had me imprisoned and had that stuck-up prince almost hand me to my family. We're lucky everything turned out the way it did, or I would have hunted you down and made you pay."
"I don't understand...what's so bad about letting your family know your whereabouts?" Kai was perplexed.
Opal gave him yet another exasperated look. "If they knew where I was, they would come and get me. And then put me on house arrest. That would mean I would no longer be able to travel with you all. And I, for one, do not wish for that to happen. I want to be able to see how this story goes."
Asami couldn't help but be amused by the intensity with which Opal explained herself to the Avatar's Steward. But still, there was something in what her friend had said that struck her odd.
"I don't think luck had anything to do with it..." the young heiress spoke after gathering her thoughts, eyes focused on the Capital's skyline that stretched beyond the paneled windows of the room. Slowly, she turned her had to look at Opal and Kai, "The timing...it's just too perfect. And, despite his being a bit dodgy with the answers to the questions Korra and I had asked, Lord Zuko was there to help us just when we needed help; he was there when none of us knew what to do or where to go next to accomplish Korra's mission. It is way too convenient to just be luck."
She let that thought sink in.
"Now that you mention it..." Opal's words hung in the space between them.
The young Bei Fong had only met the famed hero once, when she had finally been released from that stupid (though, not really. There were books in there) room she had been confined in. She was, naturally, surprised—not only at finally being allowed to go, but also to see the Hero of the Hundred Year War. Alive and kicking. The Historian had believed—as did many others, she's certain—that Lord Zuko had passed. Though she would never admit it, she actually thought she had seen a ghost when she met him!
That first meeting didn't really strike a chord about the old man as some kind of hero. He had an air of regal authority as should be expected, and eyes kind and full of wisdom that spoke of the years behind them.
Opal had tried not to stare. She really did. Especially on the burnt scar on his wrinkly face. But she failed. Miserably. She was pretty sure she had even gawked at him.
It was disrespectful, she belatedly thought. And embarrassing.
"The same could be said about that Air Nomad, Jinora. Both of them sound like they knew more about what's going on than we do." Opal finished.
"We can be certain Lord Zuko knows a great deal of things." Kai supplied. "Korra should get him to talk. And while she's at it, she should also get him to teach her how to dispel the Dark Spirits." He shook his head and frowned, "I still find it hard to believe a human could do something Avatar Korra could not...especially when it comes to something within her repertoire."
"Are we certain that he is human?" Opal threw the question out. She had meant it as a jest, but once it was in the open, the possibility of the alternatives entered their minds. "I mean," she added when Asami and Kai looked strangely at her, like she had just sprouted an extra head. "We told Korra before, didn't we? No human could possibly live that long."
The tendrils of fire spiraled up and down, pulsating in intensity and color but never heat. The pillar from which the flames sprung forth was equally as mesmerizing. It breathed as though living—and Lord Zuko knew it was. Alive.
If he closed his eyes and let his other senses grow stronger, he could feel that other world just wanting to burst forth; its patience having long been stretched thin.
He could almost feel him.
And her.
And it made him feel a plethora of emotions: longing, excitement, anxiousness, apprehension, fear, and sadness that all made him dizzy and led him to gripping tightly on the throne that once was his.
"Perhaps now is the time to explain yourself, father." He had heard her come in—heard the clicking of her heels on the floor—long before she spoke, but he chose to keep his eyes on the broken seal in front of him. "Explain all this Avatar business and the role you have in it. I deserve that much after keeping your secret for so long."
He knew all that she wanted to know. Most of those she had already asked him—several times, in fact—long before Korra had made herself known and had arrived. Like the longevity of his life. And he knew, with the success Korra and the Avatar's Chosen had with the Elemental Core of Fire, that the time had come to come clean with her. She had, after all, undoubtedly began to remember...
"You know the legends and the myths," he began, his hands clasped behind him, eyes still cast on the ethereal pillar. "I have shared them with you since you were little."
"I remember," she acquisenced. "Wan, Akimitsu, Kyoshi—" she laughed. She had loved the stories that her father told of Avatar Kyoshi. "—Roku. You told me all about them."
He smiled when he added, "And Aang."
"And Aang." The Fire Lord amended with a sigh. She was not truly ready to deal with whatever those images—strange as they were—that had been flashing in her head. Izumi didn't know what they meant, only that it had begun as soon as the strange pillar of light and fire had erupted before them hours prior. She wondered if it was one of that young woman's—Korra's— sorcery.
She would end her, if that was the case. Regardless if it would be going against her father's wishes.
Or if Yasuko's daugther ended up hating her.
Or so she would like to think.
As if reading her troubles, her father nudged her gently and said, "It will pass in time. It's not Korra's fault. Your cognition is simply adjusting itself to the memory of the planet now that the first seal has been broken."
Izumi gave her father a withering look. "And here I thought you had begun to answer my questions...not add more to them with your riddles."
"It is no riddle, my dear. It is a statement of fact." He chuckled. "But, you are right. You came here for answers and I will do my best to give them. Just know there are some things I cannot talk to you about. Not yet. At least, not until I have spoken to Korra and Asami."
"Even if I command you to divulge them as the Fire Nation's Fire Lord?"
"Even then," Lord Zuko faced his daughter and gave her a smile and a look that asked for her patience and understanding. "This is something that far outweighs family and country."
It was a surprise to hear her voice father say those words. To have him utter such things was inconceivable. The weight of those words was heavy. She knew he would not say such a thing lightly, nor simply to keep her from asking too much on those things he couldn't share with her.
It didn't keep the Fire Lord from speculating, What could outweigh family and country, the two things father holds dear to his heart?"
"Alright then," she said, instead. She was going to adhere with his wishes. "Tell me what I am allowed to know, father."
There was something different in the air. She couldn't pinpoint what it was, exactly, but she was certain of it. Even Boin—oblivious to his surroundings as she had known him to be—could feel the shift. That knowledge that she wasn't alone in sensing this change gave her comfort and told her it had nothing to do with a certain mercenary no longer answering her calls.
Duo Xing did her best not to show how lost she was. Without the Councilman's instructions, she didn't know how to proceed with her mission. She wanted to abandon the task given to her, in favor of returning to Republic City and searching for—maybe even aiding—her employer, but she was still hesitant of going through with that plan.
There were so many variables. So many things that could go wrong. And there were so few people now that she could trust. The list of names—of other agents and moles—employed by Councilman Tarrlok was something she had memorized once she had been accepted into the fold and given that intel. She had thought it would be useful to know in case she needed help. But now, that list had turned into one that held the names of possible detractors of the Councilman; of people who would do her harm and hand her over as his co-conspirator.
It wasn't that difficult to picture. After all, Mako had thrown his lot with the Equalists—whomever they may be—forgetting all the help the good councilman had given him.
"Are you feeling alright?" The question that snapped her from her reverie was asked in-between noisy slurps. It was so unrefined that it disgusted the Secretary.
She slowly turned to look at her charge—the mission she had been handed with—with a look of utter disdain...which was, sadly, lost on the Mover Star. Bolin continued drinking whatever unhealthy concoction was in the tumbler in his hand.
"Of course," she replied coolly. "What gave you the impression that I wasn't?"
Bolin shrugged. "You've been so quiet ever since yesterday. You're never this quiet."
He let out a loud, obnoxious burp after that and Duo Xing was certain she saw spittle fly off from his mouth and landed on the fruit bowl that was at the middle of the table standing between her and the young man.
She made a mental note not to touch any of it.
"You don't have anything to worry about, though." Bolin went on when Duo Xing didn't speak. "The guards I have spoken with had said the danger had passed."
"And again, it seems like you failed to take note of something important."
An eyebrow raised in a questioning manner, followed by another ungodly slurp of his drink that had Duo Xing itching to grab the tumbler from his hand and chuck it as far away as she could.
Why do I put up with this? Duo Xing asked herself, not for the first time since volunteering for the job.
"Our airship, Bolin," was what she said though, speaking slowly in hopes that it would make it easier for the young man to catch up.
"What about it?"
She wanted to rip her hair out in frustration. Anyone else would have understood where their problem lay after the hangar's bombing. Surely, he had hear that some of the airships had been caught in the blast, most of them had been damaged.
Theirs were among the casualties.
It was another cause of her ever mounting headache.
"It was caught in the blast, Bolin. We won't be able to get to Ba Sing Se in time for your next Press Conference." That perked the young man up. He had been excited to return to the Earth Kingdom's capital. "This is why I was so against making this detour..."
"But...But...!"
"If I were you, I would start penning an apology to your Earth Kingdom fanbase."
"I would do no such thing!" He was appalled that she would even consider that. Duo Xing knew that ever since Bolin became popular, he had never once failed to make an appearance in Press Conferences and Meet and Greets. He was not about to start now. "Wait here. I'll go speak with Lord Zuko. Perhaps he will be able to help us. He seemed like a fan, after all."
And he turned around and walked away so fast that by the time the Secretary had caught up with what his flurry of words meant, Bolin was almost at the door.
"Bolin, wait!"
She couldn't let him bother Lord Zuko with something so trivial and make him act like a fool. And so, she rushed after him, leaving her communicator behind in her rush, not noticing the blinking lights of an incoming call.
He thought it might be karma. He had been ignoring Duo Xing's calls after their initial conversation regarding Councilman Tarrlok's fall from grace. Had pretended not to know anyone working and affiliated with the fallen politician.
"I'm just a hired thug," he had shrugged when pressed by the Lieutenant. "The only reason Tarrlok favored me was because I was good at what I do."
That was a lie, of course. That wasn't the only reason. Tarrlok also had baited him with the one thing he could not refuse. It was for the very reason why he had cut all communication with someone who had been employed by him just as long.
Or, well, he tried to. And he had been doing a good job at it, until just a few short hours ago, when he woke up with a burning headache and the flashes of strange images in his mind. It was worse than a hangover, and he had gotten those quite frequently over the years.
Of course, he could live with a bad headache. He could tolerate those snapshot of not-memories. What really got him calling Duo Xing was that which he had seen outside of his window as he stumbled about.
It was a giant pillar. A giant pillar of light. And it reached farther than the heavens. And though he was far from where the pillar was—or where he figured it would be—he could see licks of flames dancing around it, emerging from the pillar itself before spiraling round and round the incorporeal structure.
He had thought himself drunk then, especially when he asked his bunkmate, some other mercenary lured by Amon's promise of riches, what that pillar was and was met with a strange look and the question that had been directed at him throughout that morning: "What are you talking about? What 'pillar of light'?"
After asking dozens of people, it became apparent to him that they couldn't see the hulking structure, even when it was impossible not to notice it. So, he stopped asking. That didn't mean he stopped trying to figure out what it was.
But being the only person—as far as he could tell—who could see it, he really didn't get anywhere. All he ended up deducing was that the light came from the Fire Nation just by judging by distance and perspective.
That was why he came to a decision to ask Duo Xing about it...well, after placating her. He was certain she was well past the realm of 'pissed off' now.
So, yes, it was still—probably—karma. Really bad karma.
"Dammit," he gave up on his communicator. If he hadn't spent a fortune on customizing it and ensuring it had a secure line, he would have hurled the thing out of the window.
Mako sighed. He glanced out the window and to the strange pillar. It certainly added to the fact he wasn't hallucinating. No hallucination could last that long. Probably.
A knock on his door made the Mercenary quickly hide the communicator under his clothes. He hoped he didn't looked as agitated as he felt as if he opened the door. He was the cool and composed mercenary, after all.
"Amon requests your presence, Mako." It was one of the messengers the Masked One had employed to work under the Equalist banner. Even when the Equalists' claim on Republic City was still fresh, Amon had seen to it that there were people to fill the gaps and ensure everything was functioning as they should.
The Mercenary frowned. He had thought he'd been given the day to rest, at least. "Aren't I off duty today?" He asked, just in case.
"Not anymore," the messenger laughed as though having your day off revoked was a laughing matter. Mako wanted to punch the guy. He was not in the mood for being the butt end of the joke today. "Just get yourself over there. I ain't got time to be your guide."
"That's fine," Mako knew he was gripping the doorknob just hard enough to make it painful. It was the only way he could stop the urge. "I didn't ask for one."
Perhaps it was the way Mako's amber eyes bore down on the new recruit. Or perhaps it was the tone of voice he used. Maybe, it was both. Whatever the case was, the messenger backed away, hands up in mock surrender. He shook his head before turning around and making himself scarce.
Grumbling, Mako left his room, not bothering to don the uniform every member of the Equalists wore. He wasn't one of them. He was still just a mercenary. He wasn't even working for them exclusively. Meeting with the group's illustrious leader would do in his own, civilian attire.
If the Mercenary had chosen to change his clothing, he would have undoubtedly noticed the doorknob he had been gripping fiercely in a new-found state of deformity, the metal coating slightly melted.
She was speechless. Izumi had imagined things her father would say to explain everything that had happened in their lives—every strange and bizarre things. She had wondered why her father was still alive, knowing how old he truly was and had mulled over reasons why those who knew him and saw him were unperturbed by his lengthy lifespan.
Oh, he grew old. His hair turned grey and then white, his face sagged and were peppered with wrinkles. It was just that it took a while before he did. It was the same with her, she noticed. She aged, but her body did so slowly. And she didn't even notice it until she just a few years back.
It felt like pushing through a fog when she tried to make heads of it. She remembered asking why she still looked young when her friends looked much older than her already, but people—especially her ladies in waiting and the people in the court—merely shook their heads and told her it was simply because she had good genes. Her mother had been beautiful and her father handsome.
All, except one. For there was someone who did not try to flatter her just to get to her good graces; someone who did not sugarcoat words or painted facts like unicorns and rainbows.
She had opened her eyes to ask questions that mattered. It was she who had answered her question with something akin to what her father would say: "Should that really be what you are focusing on, Princess? Perhaps you should look at it from a different angle. Perhaps you should ask 'why?'."
It was that statement, and the way that it was asked that Izumi found friendship. For in a palace where everyone had always been inclined to agree with her, she had come across one who would challenge her thinking. That friendship, perhaps, was another element that kept her wondering about the longevity of her and her father's life, letting it skink back into the deeper recesses of her mind.
Whenever it came to light once more, when her friend had long since left, she didn't bother to ask about that again, not aloud, believing she would only just be met with answers meant to flatter her.
Izumi did not want flattery. She wanted truth.
But the truth—as truths always were—was difficult to swallow. For it wasn't anything at all like how she had deduced the reasons to be. It wasn't simple...and maybe it wasn't even complicated. What it was was...mystical, improbable, and inconceivable.
Her father had told her, in a way that made him sound like it was not at all that big of a deal, that they were—father and daughter—held prisoners in time. Hostages of the Will of the Planet.
Though her father didn't use those exact words, the concept remained the same.
"It was something all of us agreed with, including you." Lord Zuko had said. "In order to keep the secret and protect everything we all cared about. Including Aang and the Spirit World. Each of our time has been frozen since."
"And how do the people fail to notice it? Surely it leaves them all a lot to ask."
"They are oblivious. The human mind is a curious thing, after all. Its ability to easily be influenced is frightening, yet it is what is being used every day to keep all of them in the dark...until the time the veil can, finally, be lifted." He sighed. "We had wished that we didn't need to make use of it, but it cannot be helped. Some things, simply put, needed to be done."
Izumi didn't know if her father was telling her those things for her benefit, or for his own. Regardless, the words were tired in his lips, like that had been something he had been telling himself for the past how-many-years. She also wondered if it was the same thing the other members of this 'secret circle' told themselves to be able to sleep peacefully at night.
"And how does Yasuko's daughter fit in with all of this?"
"She is the Avatar's Chosen." When the Fire Lord waited for Lord Zuko to continue, he didn't. It was as if he had thought that non-answer would suffice.
She raised an eyebrow, "And? What does that exactly mean?"
"It means," a tired exhalation. "That she has been chosen by the Avatar."
"That is not really an answer, father!"
"It is all I can give you," she was given a stern look. "It is for your sake and Asami's safety that I refrain from saying anything more at this time. Remember what I had told you, my dear."
It irked her greatly. She didn't understand what her father meant. Did he truly think she would put Asami Sato's life in danger? That she would harm a hair on Yasuko's daughter? That was such an absurd thought!
"There are those who would see them both fall," Lord Zuko said after a while, speaking of Korra and Asami. "Those who would use the human mind's weakness to ensure Korra's purpose is hindered." He gave her a quick look from the corner of his eye and said, "You should be well aware of that, Izumi."
He had finally arrived. After weeks and weeks of searching, he had found the one he had been looking for.
It had been a treacherous journey; the perils of the frozen tundra and the wildlife that inhabited it caused him delays. The way the merchants had tried to dry him of every yuan had almost put a stop to his travels even before it could truly kick off. And the increasing number of patrols, of the White Lotus searching for him with warrants at the ready, forced him deeper and deeper into the shadows.
But no matter what obstacle stood in his path, somehow, someway, he finds them overcome. It was as if he had his own personal guardians to ensure that he found the person he sought.
Perhaps the spirits are guiding me. They are on my side. The thought always found itself wedged in his mind whenever a merchant had a change of heart and allowed him passage on his ship free of charge; or when a White Lotus sentry failed to notice him when they should have. Or even though during that time when snow wolves had descended in his den and had tried to turn him into sustenance.
With each victory, small in scale as they were, Unalaq grew in confidence. The shadows were still a welcoming place to hide, but he didn't immediately embrace it whenever trouble came, choosing to face them head on the with his own power. Even when gathering information, the urchins and street rats that were his primary source for them when his rebellion—for that was what he believed it to be, alone as he was—started, became a fallback as he chose to gather what he needed to know by himself.
By the time he had arrived in the Earth Kingdom, dressed in tattered clothing hidden underneath a dirty cloak, he was certain he would find the son of the man who had first uncovered Nia Bayou's treachery.
His research and tracking led him to different parts of the old kingdom. In each location, he had to make a new identity for himself. In the end, all the questions and probing led him to a neglected nook of the most northeastern part of the kingdom—a land that once belonged to a people long since gone and forgotten by time.
What he imagined to be a grand and majestic architecture etched on the side of spiraling cliffs now laid in ruins and neglect. The war had taken much great a toll on the temple and had left nothing in its wake save for the fallen pillars and walls, dilapidated roofs and statues of past masters that had been toppled and desecrated. Dried up and rotting ivy and moss clung to every surface it could cling into and survive. Large chunks of the mountain had also been carved out, possibly from whatever monstrous machinations the Fire Nation had employed to route the rebels said t have hidden themselves in. Impact holes also dotted the surroundings. And as Unalaq took one step after the other, marching forward to the entrance of the forgotten temple that stood akimbo, he noticed darker patches on the desolate ground and shuddered at the reason for such discoloration.
If the history he had been told was to be believed, many had died in this once-sacred place. The Fire Nation soldiers were ruthless in their pursuit of their disgraced prince, who was said to have been caught unawares by the attack. Yet, the people around him rallied against their oppressors. Though the rebels merely numbered three hundred, and their enemies were in the thousands, Prince Zuko displayed his strategic prowess and strength of a rebel's heart.
It was a story meant to inspire; a story that greatly bolstered Lord Zuko's popularity. It was a story that had made the man a living legend.
Be that as it may, and if what he saw before him were to be taken into great consideration, he wondered how the true history he had stumbled upon could possibly be believed.
In that hidden account, it was said the hero of the Hundred Year War—the Air Bender, nay the Avatar—had fought off the evil Fire Nation empire and had, with the help of those displaced by the war, succeeded in defeating the regiment while avoiding capture. No one had died, though many was said to have been injured that day.
Two varying accounts with great disparity. One, a history shared and known by all, supported with tangible evidence. The other, something akin to a fairytale with nothing to prove its factual existence.
Not even the Avatar.
Unalaq continued to mull things over as he made his way to the entrance. Too entranced by the view and the knowledge of the twin histories, the water-tribesman did not notice a creeping shadow behind him...
...not until he was struck to the ground and was losing his consciousness did he realize he was not alone.
And neither was the man he had come to find.
Post Author's Notes:
Thoughts?
They're very much appreciated. :)
