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 crossed, the resulting collision not only changes their lives and themselves, but the fate of the entire world as well. [Korrasami AU]
The Legend of Korra
The Schism
Chapter 19. Treacherous, Foreboding Darkness
There was a whole lot of noise, a whole lot of celebration, which was in complete contrast to what was actually going on outside the four walls of the compound. Men and women, masks already off their face were cheering in-front of the hulking, mechanical structure, their fists pumping in the air. It wasn't as if he could blame them. It was a pretty big deal, especially when he heard what actually happened down at the Catacombs.
Still, knowing what was going on at the Dragon Flat Burroughs; the screams of death and destruction echoing amidst the chaos left a bad taste in his mouth. But what could he do? He wasn't being paid to help those people. He had his own problems to deal with.
And so, he just watched and listened like he always did. He watched Amon and Hiroshi Sato inspect the damages the Spirit Bastille had sustained. He watched as the two men conversed in hushed voices and made plans of fixing the machine; a conversation that seemed to have everyone quite interested. And he waited to be called by the leader of the Equalists to give his report.
As soon as they were able, the President of the United Republic of Nations and his entourage went to inspect the heavily damaged parts of Republic City. When he had heard that the underground cave-ins only affected the Burroughs, he was glad and thought that it meant fewer casualties. What awaited him at the site was a sight he didn't think he could ever forget even if he tried.
It was undeniably and incredulously incomprehensible. President Raiko couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing, nor could he come up with a plausible explanation for what had occurred to one of the districts of his beloved capital. What remained of the Dragon Flats Burroughs was nothing more than a few teetering houses surrounding a very large and very dangerous sink hole.
The night was filled with howling cries from the people living in the Burroughs. Their grief was so deep that they didn't even realize the President was in their midst. There were corpses crushed by debris from the houses and other establishments that had fallen. Peering over the large, gaping hole, President Raiko and his entourage could see corpses strewn about as well. It was, at that moment, when Raiko felt a pit opening in his stomach—a pit much larger than the one he stood before.
"By the gods…what happened here?" Raiko heard one of his cabinet members say, though he wasn't paying much attention to them as he was to the scene in-front of him to know who it was that spoke.
Another one of his people asked, "How are we going to explain this to our constituents? How are we even going to fix this mess?"
"It would be quite problematic if they put the blame on us," another spoke. "Our ratings might drop! Investors might stop coming to the city if they think it dangerous."
Unbelievable. President Raiko thought to himself as he overheard their conversation. Straightening up, he faced the members of his Chamber of Council. He looked somber and serious, his eyes held something fierce in them that they hadn't seen since the campaigns.
"That is not our concern right now," he told them, admonishing them. "Our focus should be in helping these people. Set up evacuation centers. Have someone begin planning for the survivor's relocation. I want an investigation started as well. Call in Chief Bei Fong and the Commander of the United Forces."
As President Raiko began issuing orders, all the Chamber of Council could do was nod their heads and say "Yes, sir!". Whether or not they were ashamed of their earlier thoughts, the President did not know and did not particularly care at that moment.
"The United Forces? Why do we need to call on them?" the Water Tribes' representative asked, baffled. "I think our police force and a group of volunteers can handle this."
"Just a precaution," Raiko replied. "To help with the investigation…"
"You don't think this is an act of terror, President Raiko, do you?"
Silence was President Raiko's reply. He did think that, but it was too early to voice such an opinion and cause panic. For now, he was going to label the disaster as an unfortunate accident.
"It is done," Captain Xaio wasted no time reporting to Councilman Tarrlok. She then handed him a folder filled with pixelated images, along with pages of reports concerning the damages to the Underground Tunnels. "We've gathered all we can, Councilman Tarrlok."
The Councilman took the folder from Captain Xaio's hands and inspected its contents. His brows furrowed at the grainy images, wishing they were better. He couldn't see Korra's face in them, nor the faces of her companions. The only thing visible were the marks on her arms and forearms. Tarrlok wondered if it would be enough. He hoped it would.
He then turned his attention to the reports, reading everything that was written and scrutinizing every detail. He wanted to make sure that everything in the report looked and sounded authentic. He needed them to be. The words that he had asked to be included jumped from the pages of the report, as did the evidences his people had planted to twist the truth into the version that suited his plans.
As Councilman Tarrlok quietly read the report, Captain Xaio felt anxious. She tried not to think about the wrongness of her action—she didn't even think the thudding of her heart, the beads of sweat dotting her forehead, the anxiety that bubbled within her core had anything to do with the morality of what she and her people had just done, because she was sure that was not the case. She chucked her nervousness on the fact that she was still waiting for the Councilman's verdict.
After what seemed like forever, the Councilman nodded his approval and Captain Xaio found herself letting go of the breath she didn't know she was holding.
"These seem to be in order," Tarrlok said, arranging the files neatly. "Where is the President now?"
"With the Chamber of Council in the Burroughs," the Captain replied. "They're inspecting the area, I believe."
Tarrlok said nothing, merely dismissing the head of his personal army away with a wave of a hand. Relieved of her duty, Captain Xaio left the Councilman on his own, giving him one, final salute before she left.
As soon as the doors of his office closed, Tarrlok took a seat behind his desk, gingerly placing the folder atop his table. He wanted to have someone deliver the counterfeit report to the President at that very moment, but thought the better of it. Doing so might raise suspicion. After all, such thorough investigations and reports usually take time.
Seventy-two hours, the head of the Great Republic University told himself, leaning further in his office chair. I will give it seventy-two hours before I give this report to Raiko. That should be enough. And, after that, the whole world will want that girl to pay for her 'crimes'.
"The damages doesn't seem to be too severe, though it is quite impressive it did get damaged to begin with." Hiroshi Sato was finally ready to share his insights after thoroughly inspecting the Spirit Bastille. His brow was furrowed, however, a telling sign that all was not well. "It's hard to tell just by looking, however. What I can say is that this will push us back. We can't use the Bastille like this. I'm not even sure if it will have enough for energy conversion."
"I suppose we have to thank our lucky stars for that," Amon sighed in relief. "Had I not been able to stop that girl sooner, we might have had to recreate the Spirit Bastille from scratch again."
Hiroshi's eyebrows shot up. "Girl? What girl?"
"A nuisance to our plans and those of our benefactor," Amon replied dismissively as though he would not like to discuss the topic any further—which he didn't. Though he wouldn't admit it, the Masked One feared that he may have killed the girl. Or that the Avatar might have died from the cave-ins, if not the explosion that caused it.
It would not bode well for him if the Avatar was, indeed, dead. Though if he had any say about the matter and if anybody were to ask what he personally thought, he would prefer she was no longer in the realm of the living. It would save them the trouble of having to deal with her again. And Amon had a feeling she would come at them if she so much had a whiff of what they intend to do. Why his benefactor did not want to eliminate the girl was beyond him.
The Founder of Future Industries watched the man he called his friend. He could tell Amon was hiding quite a lot of things from him, but he didn't feel the need (nor the urge) to pry. He wanted to keep the knowledge of his plans to a minimum, for both of their sakes and for his daughter's as well. Hiroshi, after all, did not want Asami to get caught up in his road for vengeance.
"How long do you suppose repairs would take?" Amon asked, opting to return to the most pressing issue.
"A while," the Industrialist replied. "We have to redo both the internal and external wirings and the plates. And even then, we have to find a new source of energy to make this thing work again."
Amon nodded. "New Spirits. I have to ask our benefactor about that. For now, let's focus on the repairs before she comes to inspect our prize."
The days that followed were the busiest, most hectic days of President Raiko's political career, even surpassing the days of his campaigning around the United Republic of Nations or of all the various travelling he needed to do as a member of the diplomatic community. It was understandable. What happened in the Burroughs was the worst tragic event in recent history, after all. Hundreds were dead and billions worth of properties destroyed.
The bespectacled leader sighed as he took off his glasses and tried to rub the weariness off his face. His elbows dug deep atop his paper-filled desk. His shoulders slumped in defeat. The recent meeting he had provided little to no answers and only offered to add more problems to his already growing pile.
Chief Lin Bei Fong was missing. No one knew where the dependable woman was. The last time people saw her was during the fall of the Burroughs. It worried the President that something horrible might have happened to the woman, and though he wanted to send a search party for her, he couldn't. They were short on people. His request for the aid of the United Republic Forces was still pending. All he had gotten in reply from them was a sincere apology for the delay, followed by the words, 'We will get back to you as soon as we are able".
A frustrated growl rumbled deep within the weary politician when he remembered how rowdy his constituents had gotten. They wanted answers, rallying in the streets in hopes of pressuring him to deliver it to them. He was pressured, all right. But there were no answers. He would need a miracle for that, especially when the answers they sought were on the other side of an impossible-to-reach underground tunnel.
As he was trying to wrack his brain for a solution—a way to clear all the debris that led to the source of the explosion—he heard a soft knock, followed by the voice of his wife as she opened the door to his home office.
Buttercup Raiko, the United Republic's First Lady, was a tan-skinned, black-haired, blue-eyed woman in her fifties. She had a strong jaw and lips that seem to always be curved upwards. Though wrinkles marred her features, it was easy to see the beauty of youth she once held. Usually wearing her hair up when in public, she decided that day to let it fall down her shoulders.
"Victor," the First Lady called for her husband's undivided attention, which he gave willingly, thinking that she was going to supply him with some distraction. That was not the case, however, as she went on to say, "Councilman Tarrlok is here. He wishes to speak with you."
President Raiko's brow furrowed even more than Buttercup thought was possible. It was apparent that the Water Tribesman's presence was unexpected and, currently, unwelcomed. Not that she could blame her husband. There was something about the man—about Councilman Tarrlok—that did not sit well with her, if she was being honest.
"Should I send him away? Ask him to return some other time?" she asked.
"No," the President sighed, putting on his glasses and trying his best to not look as exhausted as he felt. "I doubt he will take no for an answer. It's best to simply get this over with."
"Are you sure, dear?"
President Raiko smiled. "I am." Seeing the worried expression painted on her face, he added, "I'll take a breather after I meet with Tarrlok. I promise."
Those words placated the First Lady, who nodded and left the room to fetch their guest. Left alone, Victor began to clean up his desk, arranging the various documents properly and phoning their kitchen staff to prepare tea and bring it to his office.
A second after he had finished that call, the door opened and Buttercup motioned for Tarrlok to enter. As soon as the University Councilman was properly seated, she left, not the least bit interested in whatever discussion was going to occur as was always the case.
"What brings you here, Tarrlok?" the President went straight to the point. "If this is about the Spirit Bastille Project, we can speak of that at a much later date…I'm rather busy with what has happened at the Burroughs."
Councilman Tarrlok wasn't deaf to the dismissive tone Raiko had used on him, but he chose to let that slide. The President, after all, wasn't going to feel that way about his visit soon. Not with what he had with him.
"The Spirit Bastille isn't what I came here for, Mister President." Tarrlok said, doing his best to sound respectful. "Though, it is the reason why I have come to learn some things regarding the…unfortunate accident in the Dragon Flats Burroughs."
President Raiko raised a skeptical eyebrow at the other man's statement. Though it sounded important, he wouldn't put it past the Councilman to make use of the Burrough's disaster to make a pitch regarding that machine of his.
"Is that so?" was all Raiko was willing to say. A hint of a challenge was audible. As to what, exactly, that challenge was, it was open to anyone's interpretation.
Instead of giving the President the satisfaction of a verbal answer, Councilman Tarrlok merely slid the folder he was carrying on top of the President's desk, the documents skidding to a halt in-front of the man himself.
It was an unexpected gesture—and a disrespectful one at that as well. But more than the feeling of contempt, Victor Raiko was curious. He could see a couple of grainy images of…a woman?
"What is this?" came the predictable question, though President Raiko chose not to touch the folder and its contents.
"That is the report my people filed in regards to the underground explosions," Councilman Tarrlok replied. Before President Raiko could ask him the obvious question of why he would have such interest over it, Tarrlok explained himself. "As you may know, President Raiko, our Spirit Bastille was hidden in one of the rooms of the Catacombs. I had my men try to reclaim the device. Sadly, it was no longer there when they decided to relocate it to somewhere much safer."
So even our hope of a new source of energy has been dashed. Will the problems of this nation ever stop? Victor Raiko sighed. Another fleeting, yet recurring thought crossed his mind, Perhaps running for presidency was not the wisest decision I have ever made.
"They didn't leave empty-handed, however," Tarrlok continued. "One of our security systems were still working, even after all the damaged the underground tunnels sustained. That," he nodded at the folder, "was what they unearthed from it. A footage of the young woman behind the explosion."
The interest President Raiko had on the documents presented to him doubled. Immediately, he flipped open the folder and looked at the images with renewed concern and importance.
He couldn't see what the girl looked like, but could tell she wore a strange ensemble. He couldn't even tell what she was doing. The only significant and revealing thing about the girl was the marks on her forearms and arms. They were strange markings, one he had never seen before. Though, if he had to venture a guess, he believed them to be an emblem or symbol of an anarchist group or something of the sort. He would have to appoint someone to check on that.
"Did your people's investigation turn up anything about her?" President Raiko asked, eyes still trained on the photos.
"Nothing about her, though we did learn something interesting," Tarrlok replied. "Apart from the act of terror she had done, that young woman is also behind a series of disappearances."
"Disappearances?"
The Councilman nodded before handing the President another photo. This time, the President found himself looking at a couple of familiar faces.
"It appears she also has taken two of our most promising students and our very own Chief of Police as well."
He crossed his arms, not bothering to hide his dismay. It had taken much longer than he had anticipated for him to deliver his report. He was not to blame, though. Amon had locked himself up, along with a couple of scientists and inventors, to discuss the Spirit Bastille's repairs. It was only hours ago when he was finally allowed to meet with the Equalists' illustrious leader.
"You can rest easy, boss," was the Agent's opening statement. "Though maybe not too easy. The Avatar is still alive, but we have Councilman Tarrlok meddling with things. He seems to be up to something."
The first bit of news regarding Korra's well-being caused relief to the Masked One. The latter part, however, chased that away. And though Amon's face was hidden behind his kabuki mask, the Agent could tell the news was enough to raise the man's eyebrows inquisitively.
"Isn't he always?" Amon sighed. "Though I am quite curious what he has up his sleeves now that we have his precious Spirit Bastille in our hands. Tell me, what kind of lie did he cook up this time?"
"He has found a scapegoat in the Avatar," the Agent said, his tone bemused. "My sources tell me that he had planted evidences—which he had presented to Raiko, himself—that had the President certain our Avatar is a part of some—" he made air-quotes, "'—terrorist organization'. So now he is rallying to have people do the work of apprehending the Avatar."
Amon frowned behind his mask, tapping the surface of the railings overlooking the expanse of the large warehouse (a boon from Hiroshi Sato) where the Equalists were all staying in. This particular mannerism was the only quirk that told the Agent of the Masked One's agitation.
"And how, exactly, did Tarrlok manage to fool the President into thinking this?" there was a certain bite to Amon's question. "Raiko may be a condescending prick, but he is not one easily fooled even with a couple of tampered evidences."
"He manipulated the security feeds, made it look like Korra really intended to blow up the underground tunnels. What's more, he made it seem like our Avatar abducted three very well-known citizens of our dear Republic City: Asami Sato, Opal Bei Fong, and Chief Lin Bei Fong. The two young women, of course, are currently traveling with the Avatar, and don't have any clue as to what is being said about them. As for Chief Bei Fong…well, I have my suspicions. The Lieutenant is currently looking into her disappearance."
"This is rather problematic…" Amon trailed off. "If Hiroshi hears of this and believes what Tarrlok is saying, he might lose focus on the job at hand. And if people actually decide to make the Avatar pay for what had happened, well, obtaining her for our own purpose and that of our benefactor might end up being a colossal task."
"I figured just as much," the Agent shrugged. "I suppose it isn't an exaggeration to say that our best bet would be to find the missing Chief of Police?"
"Help the Lieutenant," Amon ordered without looking at him. "Find Lin Bei Fong."
The Agent saluted. It was an obvious command—one he had expected as soon as news of the missing Chief of Police was shared.
"Anything else, boss?"
"Get me Hiroshi. He better hear this from me than from somebody else."
The Lieutenant watched Councilman Tarrlok, keeping to the shadows like he always did. He hated to admit it, but his amber-eyed subordinate was onto something when he mentioned that the University Councilman may know something about the Chief of Police's abduction. Tarrlok, after all, had the most to gain with Lin Bei Fong gone.
To say that Water Tribesman's day was an interesting one was stretching the truth a bit. If the Lieutenant was being honest, it was rather boring. If not for the importance of this mission he had given himself, he would have just left the Councilman alone.
It wasn't until night time came, when his subordinate had joined him, did Councilman Tarrlok did anything suspicious.
As much of an intellectual as Tarrlok was, never had the Lieutenant heard of the man ever visiting a bookstore. And so, when they found themselves following the man into one of the bookstores in Downtown Republic City, both of Amon's men couldn't help feeling that they hit the jackpot. That feeling only grew in intensity when, hours later, even when the bookshop had closed, Councilman Tarrlok still hadn't resurfaced.
No words were needed to be said between the two. Much as both could not stand the presence of the other, they both understood what needed to be done. And much as this mission they had found themselves in took precedence among anything else—spying on the journeying Avatar, included—they also knew they couldn't rush blindly in.
And so they waited some more, and planned as they did. When they saw Councilman Tarrlok leave the bookstore in the early hours of morning, the Lieutenant and the Agent set their plan into action.
They didn't know for certain if Chief Bei Fong was somewhere inside the bookstore, but if she was, they were going to make sure she was rescued and would make her kidnapper pay.
He didn't know what was going on. He knew that the world outside of the borders of the Southern Water Tribe were populated with thousands more people, but he didn't think he would actually come across a whole lot of them converging in one place.
Though not very knowledgeable when it came to the geography of the world, the young man knew that he and the Avatar's pet Polar Bear Dog were in the capital of the United Republic of Nations. They had arrived in that bustling city just a few hours ago, and although he did end up getting stared a lot thanks to Naga, nobody caused him any trouble. Though he had an inkling that it was because of the gigantic, white fur ball he had for company. As tame as Naga was, anyone not familiar with the Avatar's beast would be intimidated.
He had let Naga's nose lead the way, hoping the Polar Bear Dog's familiarity with her master would make searching for the Avatar easier. It was, after all, Naga who had pointed the way to the Capital to begin with. How she knew, exactly, where the Lady Avatar was, he didn't know. Perhaps when he finally found his mistress, he would ask her to explain the connection between them.
The large crowd, he had found himself trapped in, was standing near the foot of a large building, in a large square whose only purpose appeared to be holding such a gathering as this. There were dozens of bronze statues of important people, no doubt, surrounding the building that told the young man that the architecture in-front of him was not just any building. A large dome acted as a roof, and four tall spires accentuated the corners.
The crowd was waiting for something—or someone. Though his search for the missing Avatar was of great importance, the young man found himself waiting along with the crowd. His curiosity getting the better of him.
After what seemed like a long time, the murmurs of the crowd intensified and soon it had transformed into a collective noise that was far too deafening for both the young man and the animal he was with. There were the sounds of flashing cameras as well.
"Whomever we're waiting for must be really important and popular, huh, Naga?" the young man turned to his furry companion. "I wonder who it is…"
No sooner had he uttered those words did a group of well-dressed and notable-looking people arrive. Though there were dozens of them, all eyes seem to be fixated at one particular person: a black-haired, mustached man wearing glasses, dressed in a crisp, brown suit.
The man left the company of his entourage and walked closer to the crowd, only stopping at the podium that was prepared for him. The moment he stepped on the raised platform and fiddled with the microphone on the pulpit, camera bulbs flashed relentlessly. Even though the young man was far from those carrying and using the cameras, he could imagine how dizzying it must be to have all of those lights focused and flashing on him.
Not that that will ever happen, he couldn't help but chuckling. This only made some of the people close by look strangely at him. Even Naga seem to find his misplaced laughter weird.
The crowd hushed when the man tapped on the microphone to make sure it was working, and then began to speak.
"As you all know by now, the network of tunnels underneath the area surrounding the Dragon Flats Burroughs collapsed and caused a massive sink hole to appear, killing off hundreds of our citizens living within that area. Their deaths—and the countless of injured—not to mention the billions worth property damage, had been regarded as consequences of an unfortunate accident." The man began his speech in a somber tone and paused as he pushed his glasses up and let his words sink in to those who were listening.
An exhalation of breath—a heavy sigh—soon followed as the young man watched the man on the podium steel himself for what he was about to say next.
"After careful and thorough investigation, we have come to learn that what happened was not an accident but an act of terrorism."
A collective gasp rippled across the masses. The sound of flashing camera bulbs mingled with the noise the man's statement brought. This went on for a good, solid minute. Questions were soon shouted and demanded answers to. Everyone who had gathered erupted in noisy protest and vocalized anger. It was also then that the young man knew who the speaker on the podium was: the President of the United Republic of Nations, President Victor Raiko.
The President tried to hush the crowd; tried to calm them, gesturing for everyone to settle down for he still had more to say. It took a while before they actually did, and even then there were still an audible noise from the multitude who have gathered.
"We already have a suspect in this heinous, act of terror instigated in our beloved city." President Raiko went on, half-shouting at the microphone in-front of him to have his voice heard above the crowd. "We don't know who she is, or where she came from. But it is believed that she is extremely dangerous. I will have members of our police force distribute an image of this young woman captured from one of the surveillance systems to all of you. If you have any information regarding this terrorist, then please do not hesitate to step forward. Do not fear for your safety in doing so. I assure you that we will do everything in our power to keep informants safe."
As the President was speaking, men and women wearing the police force's uniform began moving among the crowd, giving copies of the surveillance photograph President Raiko was talking about. Though the young man knew he had nothing to share with regards to this so-called terrorist, he took a copy of the said picture and looked at it with feigned interest just so he wouldn't stand out and be thought of as suspicious.
It came as a surprise to him, however, when he realized he did—in fact—know who the young woman in the photograph was.
Though the quality of the image was poor, there was no mistaking the Avatar's marking that was visible in the young woman in the photograph's forearm and arms.
The young man's face visible paled, his heart hammered in his chest. Quickly, he looked around and made sure to act as inconspicuous as he possibly could, as he left the gathered crowd.
Finding his Lady Avatar had never been that much more important a quest as it was now.
Chaos was starting to blossom in the different parts of the world, from the Earth Kingdom to the Fire Nation and the United Republic of Nations. She could feel it; could sense it so clearly; and couldn't keep the smile from blossoming in her features.
But as strong as the chaos was becoming, it was still not enough. She needed more. They needed more. The Earth Kingdom had the strongest and most potent chaotic energy, as did Republic City thanks to the whole fiasco with the Spirit Bastille. The trouble brewing in the Fire Nation, although small, could be of use as well. Of all the remaining nations, only the Water Tribes remained difficult to manipulate. But it was to be expected, the Avatar was borne into their nation after all. Even with the Northern Tribes not aware of her existence, there was still a part of their culture that revered Raava's personification.
But after much thought, she finally had a flash of brilliance—a way to spread chaos and dissent to the Water Tribes.
She eyed one of the representative of the Northern Water Tribe who was also a member of the Council of Chieftains and Elders who looked after the Avatar and her legacy. Amongst all of the Elders, he was the one whom she knew she could use for her purpose.
"Unalaq, please wait a moment!" she hid, slinking further into the darkness of the night, as another man appeared from one of the larger huts in the village.
"What is it?" the man she had been observing—Unalaq—asked, he sounded like he would rather not be delayed, especially by the man he was speaking with. "I can't stay and argue with you any longer than we already have, Tonraq. I need to get to Harbor City before the ship leaves. I don't want to be stuck here any longer than I have been."
From where she was hiding, she could see the other man—Tonraq's—brow creasing into a frown. There was something about what Unalaq had said that he didn't like and approve of. Likewise, there was an air of contempt and disapproval that oozed from Unalaq. Whatever was going on between the two, it was hard not to notice.
I can make use of that as well, she thought slyly as she began to eavesdrop at the two men's conversation. Learning a lot of useful information in the process. The more she listened, the more her plan for Unalaq evolved.
Once the two men left and she was by herself once more, bereft of company, the hooded woman couldn't help laughing.
I can't wait for you to return home, Avatar, she thought gleefully. I have a wonderful present waiting upon your return.
Post Chapter Notes:
dun-dun-dun-duuuuun~!
Sorry, I just couldn't help myself.
There are a couple of things that need to be said here:
First off, no first name was given to President Raiko and so I decided to follow his wife and name him "Victor"—which is more masculine than his last name (which is a common Japanese name for girls).
Second, I am already setting up the whole Water Tribes Saga of this story with Tonraq, Unalaq, and the mysterious benefactor. It will, however, take several more chapters before Korra actually ends up back in Nia Bayou.
And, finally, I have set this story up so as not to follow the chronology of events in the prime/original universe...because it is more interesting that way. :D
Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Your thoughts are always welcomed on the comments/review section.
Until the next chapter, dream on; fly on!