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:
*sigh* I guess you guys know the cause of the delay (again) this time, so I'm going to move along and let you guys read this chapter without any annoyingly long chapter note.
Please, enjoy! :)
Legend of Korra
The Schism
Chapter 66: In The Nick of Time, Part 2
The Avatar is whipped.
That was the only thing Duo Xing could think of as she watched Korra and Asami disappear off to the distance, riding atop the large dog, Naga.
It surprised her that they would take heed of her advice. After all, despite not outright proclaiming it, it was a certainty that the Avatar did not fully trust her—and Korra was wise not to. She might be working for the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation right now, but who was to say she would in the future?
She was the one who had told the girls to make use of Naga, pointing out that it would be far less inconspicuous than if they were to fly (something she had admitted was her plan and had the young Prodigy looking sick at the prospect), noting that there were sentries posted on all eight watch towers within Zaofu's vicinity. Asami had mouthed a thanks to her when Korra considered her suggestion—the first time that the young Prodigy actually looked happy to see her since they had met.
Likewise, she had volunteered herself to cover for them—which was the one, major thing they were truly surprised about...perhaps even more than the fact that they were not alone in the room as they had initially thought.
"I find it hard to believe that you would do that for us," Korra had been blunt. Again, it really showed her distrust. "I also do not think you would do a good job of it."
And though Duo Xing had accepted that distrust, what she couldn't accept was that the Avatar would think of her as incompetent in doing one of the many things she had perfected to do—a skill she had honed—as Bolin's secretary with Bolin being Bolin.
"Have you not seen what I have to work with?" She cocked her hips to the side and placed both hands on it, not bothering to hide her irritation. "I have been covering for Bolin for so long now, and so many times, that it has become like second nature to me."
"She does have a point, Korra," Asami was kind enough to agree with her, understanding just how big a feat her job actually was.
"Simply go and do your duty, Avatar," she had waved them off. "Just make sure you return before sunrise. It would be difficult to lie about your whereabouts if you don't."
And that was how she found herself alone in their shared room, peace and quiet finally her companions.
She couldn't help but feel tired, even when all she had to do was listen, observe, and report. But now that she had aided the Avatar—albeit it in some small way—perhaps Izumi could give her a raise. She would have to make sure to tell Korra and Asami to make mention of it to the Fire Lord the next time they meet. Maybe that would alleviate some of the pressure the Fire Lord was placing on her, as if she didn't know the stakes herself.
That thought brought a smile to the Secretary's face as she finished her nightly rituals and prepared herself to bed for her much-needed and much-earned rest. Before her head could hit the inviting pillow and bury herself in the softness of her bed, someone knocked on the door with such urgency that there was no way she could pretend not to have heard it.
Begrudgingly, Duo Xing trudged to the door, opening it forcefully, prepared to give whomever it was—she wouldn't be surprised if it was Bolin—a piece of her mind.
The words were already at the tip of her tongue, just waiting to be delivered with such ferocity to make known to whomever it was that had dared hindered her sleep that they had made a mistake in doing so. They never came, however, when the Secretary saw who was making the racket: Opal Bei Fong.
"Miss Bei Fong," Despite the strong words of admonishment disappearing from the forefront of her mind, Duo Xing didn't bother to hide her displeasure. "I hope there is great reason for why you are making such a noise at such an ungodly time."
Opal chose not to answer her but went straight to the cause of her incessant knocking, "Where is Korra?" And since Duo Xing had not given much room for the youngest Bei Fong to peer into their quarters—opening the door just enough that she could see the room but not see it completely—the aspiring Historian added, "And is Asami still awake? I need to speak with them."
Duo Xing kept the door as it was even when Opal had begun craning her neck to get a good look of the room.
"What is this about, Miss Bei Fong?" she answered the question with another of her own. "The Avatar and Miss Sato are currently indisposed."
"Indisposed? What does that mean?" Opal crossed her arms, impatience oozing from within her person. "I need to speak with them, Dou Xing. This is important."
The cool composure she had been used to seeing the History and Literature Major with has been overcome with a sense of distress. And though the Secretary kept herself composed and her expression as neutral as possible (letting only slip the frustration she felt that her rest would have to, once again, take a back seat), she had an inkling that Opal might have finally found what her family has been hiding under the surface of their welcoming smiles.
And though she felt for the young girl who had been left in the dark, she still had to make good with the responsibility she had volunteered to take.
"It means that despite the urgency with which you wish to speak with them, you cannot."
Opal frowned.
"And why can't I?" She challenged.
"Because they are not here," Duo Xing admitted to that much. The disbelief etched on Opal's face spoke of her suspicion and doubt. And before she could ask the obvious follow-up question, the Secretary beat her with the answer, opening the door wider. "Korra and Asami are taking a stroll somewhere."
"A…stroll? Why?" Confusion wiped away some of the exigency that had propelled the olive-eyed youth to disrupt the peacefulness of the evening. "You said it yourself, it's pretty late. Why did they decide to do that?"
"You are asking the wrong person, Miss Bei Fong," the older woman responded. "I don't know them as well as you do. Perhaps the two wished from some privacy that this room could not afford? Perhaps they want to spend time with each other? Who knows? Ask them when they return."
Opal stared at her then, weighing the truth behind her words. And for one such as Duo Xing who had made a living with lying, she was confident that she had done well to fend off any more questions from the young woman.
Though the lie, itself, wasn't as grandiose as some of the lies she had used for Bolin and his misadventures, it felt sufficient and plausible enough based on what she had observed of the Avatar and the Heiress. It would also help answer any questions and concerns about a giant, white dog suddenly missing from the pen she had been given to rest in.
Truth be told, Duo Xing had to keep herself under check. She had wanted to entertain herself by letting some of what she had overheard slip—particularly that confused and befuddled confession the Avatar had made.
It was only the thought of getting that good feedback from the two under her watch that kept her from doing so.
Somehow, the thought of impressing Izumi was far more interesting...and lucrative.
Deflated, and looking haggard, the youngest Bei Fong Opal sighed, dejected but understanding of the situation she had found herself in—or the situation Duo Xing had made her believed she was in. "Of all the times they could have chosen…"
"Is there something wrong, Miss Bei Fong?" she asked despite knowing what the answer she would be given be and what the truth was.
"N-No, it's nothing." The answer came too quickly. Opal took a deep, steadying breath before adding, "I'm just going to go. When Korra and Asami return, can you please tell them to come find me."
Duo Xing gave a curt nod, her free hand already gripping the communicator as she readied herself to call the Fire Lord once more. "I will."
"Thank you," was the last phrase the aspiring, young historian uttered before wishing the older woman a 'Good night' and retreating down the hall where she had come from.
The Secretary watched her until the darkness of the corridor obscured her view of the youngest Bei Fong and she finally closed the door of the room. With a sigh of her own, Duo Xing flipped open the communicator and began to input the familiar sequence that would allow her to connect with Izumi's personal line.
It was her turn to sigh. It hadn't been long since she had finished her report for the day and already she had to give the Fire Lord an update.
"She really should give me a pay raise," the Secretary muttered to herself as she awaited the other woman to pick up. "I am not getting paid enough for all this babysitting."
She had thought that riding astride Naga would at least be more comfortable and a lot less frightening than flying, considering she had rode on the Polar Bear Dog and it had been fun. Relaxing, even.
She was very much mistaken this time around as Korra goaded the beast to hasten. Several times, the Light Spirit had lost its grip on Korra's shoulder and been blown backwards. Thankfully, Asami had been there to ensure they didn't end up becoming one-companion short. Since then, she had the Light Spirit tucked around her left arm, in a hug, whilst her right was snaked around the Avatar's waist, holding on for dear life as they passed by everything in a blur.
"Slow down, Korra!" she said shouting to be heard over the roar of the wind, and not for the first time, as Naga made a leap to the side in order to dodge a herd of Fox Antelopes asleep beneath the light of the moon. "We almost fell off. Again!"
Korra glanced back at her and when she saw that both she and the Light Spirit were okay, shrugged and said (much to Asami's chagrin), "You are both fine, though. Besides, I will catch you if you fall, even before you hit the ground." As though those words were enough of a reason why she shouldn't slow down.
Sentiments aside, the Prodigy wanted to slap the back of the Avatar's head for such 'logic' (or lack thereof), but knew better than to actually follow through with that thought.
"There really is no need to rush, Korra!" the Light Spirit added, as if hoping its words would aid Asami's request.
It didn't.
For reasons that Asami could only guess at, the Avatar was still very much annoyed with their small friend and to spite it decided to increase the speed by which they were traveling further still. Asami could only give a yelp and steeled her grip even more as she pressed herself closer to the Avatar, apologizing to the Light Spirit who was being squished between her arms by her desire to not fall off the galloping Naga.
"Korra!" She was certain the Avatar would end up being deaf with how much she had been shouting at her ear by the end of this journey if she didn't tell Naga to decelerate. "Slow down!"
"Just hang on and hold your tongue, unless you want to end up biting it," Korra instructed. "That goes the same for you, spirit."
Asami looked down on the Light Spirit who looked as though it was on the verge of saying something but had clamped its mouth shut instead. And they were lucky none of them spoke at that moment, for it was then that Naga made another leap that sent their jaws chattering and snapping on their own accord at the impact. Had they argued, they would have, indeed, bitten off their tongues.
And though the Chosen appreciated how Korra was looking out for them, she felt that she would appreciate it more if Korra would listen and ease Naga.
She really needed for Korra to do so, feeling the contents of her stomach rolling and threatening to spill.
"Consider this pay-back," the Avatar said minutes later, causing the other girl much confusion.
"Payback for what?" Asami couldn't think of what she might have done to warrant such a—as a dramatic as it sounded—horrific experience riding Naga.
Korra turned to face her so suddenly that she didn't have time to move her head back. Their faces were so close—her nose almost touching the shorter girl's cheekbones—when the Avatar, eyes sparkling and lips grinning, replied, "For that time you forced me to ride your moped." Korra looked forward to the direction they were heading before continuing to speak, "As cuddlesome as I have found you then, I did not enjoy that experience one bit."
"Are you serious?!" She saw the way Korra winced at how shrill her voice had sounded. As strange as it was refreshing to hear the darker-skinned girl speak with such...honesty when it came to how Korra felt about her, she couldn't focus on that aspect of what the deity-turned-human had said. What she could focus on was that this was some kind of stupid revenge scheme from the other girl. "That was ages ago, Korra! And we were being gunned down!"
Korra just laughed, though, as if it was all some kind of joke to her. It irked Asami quite a bit, though as life-endangering as the Avatar's idea for pay-back to her was, she liked this version of Korra better unlike the moody, distant one or the sulky, brooding Avatar.
The Avatar seemed free. Liberated, even. A lot less agitated than she was prior to her earlier outburst (or should Asami start viewing it as a confession? She hadn't quite decided yet). Asami wondered how long Korra had been holding all that in, bottling it up inside her.
She wanted to ask, but felt that it was a wrong time to distract the Avatar with such thoughts.
The Prodigy huffed, "You're lucky I like you enough not to hold a grudge against you for this!"
"Well, that is good to know." Korra beamed, though she still didn't ease up on the speed by which she had Naga running.
Well, that didn't work. Asami couldn't help but shake her head and laugh. She had hoped that, at least, would get Korra to slow Naga down.
Silence descended on the two, but only for a moment, before the Light Spirit spoke up, asking the question that it had undoubtedly been trying to ask in the midst of their back-and-forth, "What's a moped?"
Before Asami could answer, Korra blurted out, "A confounded, evil, two-wheeled machine."
The Avatar's Chosen rolled her eyes before correcting the Avatar and telling the Light Spirit all about the machine she had loved to ride and had put much of her free time—however that little was—on improving while she was still a student.
Talking about the moped gave her something to distract herself with. The rapt attention the Light Spirit was giving her and how interested it was with the vehicle was welcoming as well. She couldn't help but like the little spirit more and more.
Asami got her wish, however, minutes later and thought that her words finally got through the impatient Avatar. As it was, however, her repeated pleas weren't the reason for the change of pace.
As the young aspiring Inventor finally opened her eyes—having kept it close for the majority of their travel—she immediately noticed the rolling fog in the distance. The swamp, which had been visible as they were making their way to Zaofu, was now hidden behind the dense, white curtain. And though it felt eerie, to say the least, Asami found herself letting go of her tight grip on Korra and looking at the spectacle in wonder.
She had seen it from afar, but from up-close, everything looked and felt different. She could see why Korra wanted to investigate. There was something there; something being hidden by the fog.
Asami looked at Korra and saw how serious the Avatar looked. As she peered at the little spirit in her arms, she noticed that it too stared at the fog.
After a while, the Light Spirit cocked its head to the side and muttered, "That's strange."
"I told you, spirit!" Korra sounded pleased with herself. "I told you something is amiss here."
"Not that," the Light Spirit shook its head, the leaves atop it bouncing as it did so. "Can't you feel it, Korra? There's a strange energy surrounding us. It wasn't here before."
The Avatar closed her eyes and hummed, "Now that you mentioned it…"
"What is it?" It was strange, but once the Light Spirit had mentioned it, even Asami could sense the wrongness.
It was difficult to explain, even for her, but it was like stepping into a place where one would expect a certain ambiance only for it to be replaced by something else. It was like writing something hurriedly and missing a letter but one's brain tricking oneself into thinking that there was no mistake; one's psyche adding in that missing 'thing'. A typoglycemia of sorts. Only, this was much bigger than a hurriedly written and misspelled word.
"Perhaps the fog has affected much of the place that it is throwing all of us off," Korra hazarded a guess. "Once we have fixed this problem, I am certain everything will fall back into place."
"And how will we do that?" She really was curious. So far, they have yet to really fixed anything. Even with the volcanic eruptions, all they could do was divert the flow of lava and not stop Mt. Makapu from spewing fire and ash. "This is the weather we're talking about, Korra."
Korra turned to look at her and smirked that over-confident smirk of hers. "And this," she gestured to herself, "is the Avatar you are talking to. I can deal with it."
Asami couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"As much as I would like to say it is and impress you, it is not really the weather…" the Avatar supplied after a while, after she patted Naga and directed animal guide to trot to their destination, being more careful now than she was before. "This fog, it is not natural. It may seem like a normal fog to some—or as normal as a fog that suddenly appears when it should not be—but this feels more like the Spirit Realm bleeding into the Mortal Realm."
Even though she really didn't need to, Asami still found herself looking down at the Light Spirit for confirmation. It nodded, accepting what Korra had said, adding what it knows into the mix, "For many years now, there has always been a fog surrounding the swamp. It does appear at strange times, but it was just a harmless fog meant to hide the swamp whenever it is feeling less hospitable to humans."
The Prodigy frowned. She didn't trust that she had heard the Light Spirit correctly, and so she asked, "The swamp feels anti-social at times?"
"Oh, yes, Lady Asami. Though it didn't frequently do so before as it now has." The Light Spirit nodded its head vigorously, as though there was nothing at all strange about swamps desiring solitude. "Then again, I supposethe Master of the Swamp is the one to blame."
"The Master of the Swamp?" It was Korra's turn to ask. "I haven't heard of a spirit claiming such a title."
The Light Spirit laughed. "the Master of the Swamp isn't one of us, Korra. She isn't a spirit, but she is spirited."
There was a gleeful glint in his eyes as he greedily took the dark vial the Mercenary handed him. He was tempted to open the bottle and peer inside, or shake it and check on the consistency of its content like a child guessing what was hidden inside a wrapped present. But he pushed down the feeling in favour of the mask he wore—figuratively and literally. He was the leader of the Equalists after all—and now, the President of the New Republic—and he needed to act the part.
"That should be sufficient enough to power up the Spirit Bastille," the Mercenary told him. "If it runs out, there is more where that came from."
"And where, exactly, is that—the place where you obtained this?" He asked, looking from the vial to the Mercenary and giving the man a steely gaze.
Mako smiled, though it was not a good-natured one. "Not to be disrespectful, but I would be pretty stupid if I divulge that information to you…when I know that I could use that to ensure my own tenure and that you don't back down on our deal."
"My, my," Amon placed the vial carefully down on the President's desk—his desk. "You are sounding much too confident about this than you have been in the past."
"I'm just basking in the rays of my own accomplishment, sir." The smile still hasn't left. "It wasn't easy obtaining that, but I managed to do it…and I can do it again, if needed be."
He nodded. Though he had questioned Mako's usefulness before, the man had proven himself valuable yet again, managing to pull through when he had thought for certain that the Mercenary would fail.
Amon wasn't stupid, however. He knew there was not a sliver of loyalty in Mako's blood; knew that he was only staying around for fear of his brother's safety. Likewise, Amon knew that the Mercenary had been working for Tarrlok prior to the Councilman being brought down. After that, Mako had come to him and offered his services and when questioned about his loyalty, babbled about it belonging to whomever could supply him with the most payment.
It was the most honest answer Mako had given him thus far. Amon wasn't certain he had been honest since.
There was, after all, something strange—he could tell—going on with the amber-eyed mercenary.
"And if this doesn't work?" He asked, gauging the reaction such words would elicit.
Mako crossed his arms, looked him dead in the eye and responded, "Then you can have my head and that of my brother's."
"You're that confident, huh?" He stood and so did the other man. "Very well, then perhaps we should give this a test and see whether your words actually have some weight in them."
"By all means," Mako waved his hand in a flourish, directing the Leader of the Equalist to go ahead. Amon obliged, of course.
They traversed the distance between the Presidential Palace and the Great Republic University via one of the many Satomobiles the Equalists had procured from Future Industries, taking with them several of Amon's armed guards including his Lieutenant who gave Mako a watchful eye without the Equalist Leader's urging.
There were no traffic in the streets of Republic City. There hasn't been ever since they had taken over. People had seldom left their houses out of fear. They had yet to see that Amon was their savior. That he was there to ensure that the Republic blossomed into something far greater than any single mind could ever conceive.
He grinned underneath his mask as he fingered the vial in his hands.
Soon they will come to see that.
As the University's cupola came into his view, Amon's eagerness to try out Mako's acquired fuel source grew exponentially as his dreams of being heralded as the Republic's savior. His mind wandered to all the accolades he would receive from the world over, as well as the requests from the other countries and kingdoms seeking for his help. He imagined what it would be like to have them all in the palm of his hands—puppets to his will and desires—all for the price of sharing with them the power of the Spirit Bastille.
Unbeknownst to the Masked One, however, he was not the one ultimately controlling the strings.
His whole body ached, but not as much as his wrists, bound by chains, holding his hands in place. Even his ankles hurt from the shackles that his captors had tightly wrapped around without care for his blood's circulation.
He supposed it was karma. His bad luck had started, after all, ever since he taken that young Bei Fong girl hostage so many moons ago. Now he was being given the same treatment, if not worse. He at least didn't go around ordering his men to torture just for the fun of it.
Tarrlok laughed bitterly (even though it hurt to do so) at the thought of how far-gone his brother was—more so than he originally thought when he set his own plans in action. Neither did he thought he would fail so badly, not when he was in a much more prominent position of power and had the resources he had—resources that had all been taken forcefully and violently away from him.
The fallen Councilman closed his eyes, his head throbbing anew. He was thankful for the quiet, at least. Small blessings.
Hungry as he was—for, once again, his captors had purposefully forgotten to feed him—he stamped down the feeling of a queasy, empty stomach, and forced himself to sleep instead. It was all he could do to conserve what little strength he has. What for? Tarrlok wasn't certain. His followers had all disappeared after all, either killed or were in hiding; too distressed of their own safety and fearing for their lives to help him.
Not that those he hired had any loyalty to him. They were there simply because he compensated them well. If there were any loyalist, they were few and far between...if not no longer breathing. Noatak, after all, would not be stupid enough to let any of them live.
He knew, as he drifted out of consciousness, that there was no hope of rescue. Not for him. And if there was one thing he loathed to admit he was jealous of of that young woman he had kidnapped months ago, it was that Opal Bei Fong, at least, had people she called her friends.
And someone like that girl Korra, willing to destroy a part of a city to deliver her.
He had gone past the point of being bored. He had been there for days on end, ever since they had uncovered a very interesting fact regarding a supposed-to-be uninhabited hunting lodge.
They had scoured the city in search of clues—something to connect the events that had transpired in the past months. And though the answer were still unclear as to how everything had fallen. And though he knew a fraction of the truth, there was no telling how it connected—if it did—in the grand scheme of things.
He still felt a huge weight of guilt on his shoulders. He couldn't help it and he was certain the others felt the same way. Especially when they had heard of what happened from the other informants who moved in the same circle as them.
Still, he didn't know what it was that they were actually doing, but they wanted to do something. Perhaps it was for revenge. Perhaps it was to get the whole truth of the events that had transpired. Perhaps it was simply to uncover where the breadcrumbs they had followed would eventually lead them.
They had a guess to that, but they needed something concrete. A closure of sorts.
Who knew such a desire could bring about such boredom, however?
It was well past midnight when things started to get strange. For the first time since he had started in this mission of his, watching and waiting, it was only then that something was different from the usual hubbub of those who had taken residence at the hunting lodge.
From being filled with armed, masked men doing rotations in their security, the entire lodge suddenly had fewer people in them as truck-loads of the Equalists members stationed there were called back to the direction of Republic City. From having a dozen guards, there was suddenly a handful left.
It was an interesting development. Maybe even the chance they had been waiting for.
Taking the communicator clipped underneath his shaggy clothing, he pressed a series of keys that connected him to the others.
It took a while for them to pick up, but when they did, he couldn't help the gap-toothed smile from stretching his lips.
"Boys, I think our time ta shine has finally arrived!" he stage-whispered as he continued to closely monitor the building. "Git yer asses here really quick now. An' don't dillydally."
She watched as they dispersed. Marching in a rhythm only they could hear. The gleeful smile on her face had yet to wane, ever since she had obtained the promised army of her new ally.
Despite the oddities she witnessed from her new army, the Earth Queen remained adamant in her decision to use them—even when all her advisers had voiced out their concerns and their strong opinions against it. Unlike them who had failed to see the bigger picture, she—as a monarch—could. She knew that a new day was about to dawn—one that would bring about a world without the accursed clan who had the capabilities to foil her plans and take away her power.
She had not easily trusted the words her ally had given her, however. As she had ordered for a test to be performed on the capabilities of her new army. And what she saw in a mock duel between one of them and one of her own personal guards—soldiers of high caliber specifically selected for their prowess in battles and affinity to war—cemented the thought that what she had been given in exchange for an alliance was a game-changer.
The day of Suyin Bei Fong's demise and the fall of the Metal Clan: that had been at the forefront of her mind ever since the first spark of the rebellion came to life. And as Huo-Ting watched her army disappeared into the night, heading towards the direction of Zaofu with their orders, the Earth Queen knew that day had come.
There was no reason to latch onto Korra like a frightened child.
That was what she kept on telling herself, hoping to trick her mind into believing that she was not afraid. She didn't want to give Korra a reason to send her back to Zaofu, even when there was plenty of that already.
This is just like strolling around the Republic City Park, Asami argued with herself. A foggier, fouler-smelling, and dirtier park.
Much as the Prodigy would like to pretend she wasn't frightened, however, by the atmosphere of the fog-infested swamp, she really couldn't. There was just something about the place that made her feel anxious; made the small hairs at the back of her head to stand on attention.
It didn't help that something had spooked the Polar Bear Dog enough that it made it impossible to mount Naga (save for the Light Spirit who remained seated atop Naga's head, her weight not really noticeable to the large, white beast), thus propelling Korra and Asami to begin walking. Neither did the fact that Korra's elemental bending did nothing to dispel the otherworldly fog. Summoning a ball of fire didn't give that much light to their surroundings, willing the wind to come and blow away the haze only managed to ruffle their hair but didn't make a dent in the sea of white. Add to the fact that the Light Spirit had been mumbling phrases like "This isn't right," and "What happened?" non-stop made it difficult for the young human to feel calm. She wanted to put a hand over the spirit's mouth to keep it from adding to her anxiety.
The stillness of the swamp caused every noise they made—their footfalls, their breathing, the sway of Naga's stirrup clanking and rustling—to double in intensity. If they were being watched—as Korra claimed she felt was the case—whomever it was that was doing the watching would have no difficulties in seeing or hearing what they were doing and where they were. Asami shuddered at the thought. With how thick the fog was, it would be challenging to defend themselves from any attacks. Still, that didn't kept the young, aspiring inventor from ensuring that her Shock Glove was secured well in her right hand, ready to be used should the need arose.
"This is really, truly strange," the Light Spirit said for the umpteenth time had Asami faltering in her steps a bit and causing the shorter girl to glance at her with a curious expression on her face.
"You have been saying that again and again," Asami pointed out, trying not to sound as annoyed and frightened as she felt. "And we have been walking for who-knows-how-long now. Where, exactly, are you leading us?"
"O-Oh, have I been saying that aloud?" The Light Spirit sounded surprised, as if it didn't quite realize what it was doing until Asami pointed it out. The twin leaves on its head drooped a little as it apologized, noticing—even when the Avatar's Chosen was hiding it—the emotions that surrounded the taller girl. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was causing you alarm and much concern, Lady Asami."
"Who says I am alarmed?" The octave of Asami's voice rose with the question, which didn't really help her stance any.
This was proven with Korra chuckling beside her. "I would advise you not to argue with the Light Spirit, especially when it comes to emotions. Unlike myself, it is quite an expert in that field."
The spirit in question beamed at the praise hefted towards it.
"Thank you, Korra!" it said in appreciation.
Asami frowned, not really sure whom she should be looking to for the answer to the question that she asked thereafter, "What does that mean?"
"All of spiritkind are in-tuned with the world around them," Korra began to explain as they continued to weave their way around the swamp with the Light Spirit giving directions every now and then. "They can feel strongly the sentiments of others around them, perhaps more so than the ones who have those emotions. Spirits feed off on these sensations and, at times, are influenced by them. All Light Spirits—our little friend, included—are known to be strongly emphatic with humans and human emotions."
"That's why I could easily tell what Korra was feeling," the Light Spirit chimed in. "And why I could also tell what you were truly feeling, Lady Asami, even back at Zaofu when Korra was—"
"Okay!" Asami cut whatever the Light Spirit was about to say (she knew—had an inkling—as to what would come after those words) short. The young Sato Heiress didn't want to think that there was someone else who knew and who was much more aware of her emotions than she was.
Likewise, she didn't want Korra to find out by way of the Light Spirit's unfiltered and uncontrollable ramblings.
She wanted to think she was doing it for Korra's sake, who was still trying to figure things out. But, at the same time, she could admit that she was also doing it for her sake. Korra might like her (maybe even more…though that is something she doesn't want to let her thoughts entertain. Not yet, at least.) and she likes Korra (against her brain's better judgement), but she didn't want to get her hopes up that much.
She didn't want a repeat of last time.
The Light Spirit looked at her once more before giving a thoughtful hum.
"So, what about the Dark Spirits?" Asami asked. They—Korra and her—have talked about it a couple of times in the past, but she wanted to ask something—anything—to keep the Light Spirit from talking about a topic she would rather not discuss at the moment. Fortunately, or unfortunately, she remembered the grotesque creatures that slithered from the darkness in pursuit of the Avatar, devouring all in their wake.
"They are an abomination," Korra said—which was the Avatar's go-to response on the matter.
The Light Spirit gave the Avatar a sad look before it answered, "They were my friends."
"Friends?" Asami found it hard to believe that those things would have any capacity within them to be friends with anyone, especially someone as docile as the Light Spirit before her.
The little spirit nodded, pointing to a narrow passage between dead-looking trees they had not noticed before and telling them that was the new direction—the path—they were taking. As soon as that was done, it went on to answer Asami, "Like Korra said, we spirits are closely tied to the emotions of others, whether those be of other spirits like us or humans like yourself. We are linked, in so many ways; our worlds—our realms—mirrors of each other. Spirits survive because of humans and humanity survives because of the spirits. It's a cycle, but one that no one really knows about. At least, no one from the Human Realm, except for the Avatar."
They had entered a part of the swamp with a large, murky pool of muddy water that reached just past Asami's ankles and they were forced to wade through it, being careful not to stumble and fall or for their feet to be stuck in the mud-water's sticky grip. Asami didn't know how far a walk they had to make in order to reach dry, stable land again, but to keep herself from falling (accidentally or not) she held on to Naga's saddle.
As they made their way carefully through, the Light Spirit kept on with its explanation knowing that it was helping Asami forget how panicky she was.
"Emotions give us strength. The good and the bad, they affect our world and ourselves. In little portions, they are like a healthy brand of sustenance to us. The good and the bad emotions, they were always so balanced." How the Little Spirit was explaining things reminded the young Prodigy of a kindly professor she had back the University, and it made her long for those times when her worries would only revolve around studying and making sure she reached her deadlines. "But, given the state of your world now, that balance has been destroyed."
She glanced at the shorter girl beside her. Korra had her jaw set, her eyes steely. Asami wondered how of it all Korra blamed herself for.
Does Korra still blame herself for what happened with the Four Great Elemental Spirits? Asami wanted to ask, but, at the same time, didn't want to open that can of worms. Maybe when it's just the two of us, she reasoned.
"There is too much negativity; too much evil in the hearts and minds of humanity it turned many of my friends into these monsters that ravage the world in secrecy during the Hidden Hour." Sadness filled the Light Spirit's words that were uttered heavily. "The Dark Spirits, they were once ordinary spirits like me, twisted by humanity so much they have lost sense of who and what they were."
There was silence then. It was quite jarring to hear such a different take on those creatures she had come to fear and detest.
The brilliant, young inventor couldn't say she understood what the Light Spirit felt. She couldn't fathom—couldn't imagine—what it must be like to watch the people you care about turn into something evil without their own volition; to lose someone in such a way.
It was much different from her own fears on and for her father.
And so all she could give—all she could say—at that moment was, "I'm sorry."
The Light Spirit looked at her and gave her a small smile. "Thank you, Lady Asami," it said. "You really are kind."
"If it took you long to realize such a thing about Asami, then you have lost your touch, Spirit." Korra, who had been quiet up until then, finally spoke. "I, at least, comprehended that even though it took me a while to find the word for it."
It was a flattering thing to hear, but also got the Avatar's Chosen quite curious. "You didn't know what kindness was? Well, that explains it…"
Korra gave her a withering look. "I know what kindness is. I just did not know what it was called. I only ever felt it from one other person, and so that feeling I always associated with her."
"Her?"
The muddy waters rose to their thighs as they reached the middle, and Asami couldn't help lamenting how hard (if not impossible) it would be to clean her boots now and how uncomfortable her clothes will soon become.
"The woman who helped raise me. The only one who came to my home as frequently as Kai." Korra answered wistfully. "She is the closest one I have to a mother. Though if Alignak heard me say such a thing, she would not be pleased about it. She liked to think she, alone, was like that to me." The Avatar then frowned and said. "I suppose she must be quite worried about me, now that I think about it. I did leave without a word or…or a note to anyone." A shake of the head pre-empted the words, "I would really need to make it up to her."
"What's her name?" Asami was truly curious of the woman now.
The smile was back as Korra answered, "Katara. Her name is Master Katara."
There were screams. Guttural sounds that rose and died one after the other. Those that lay dead and those that would die had no chance of survival. Their chances disappeared the moment he and his creation stepped foot on the grounds of the hunting lodge.
Months ago, he would have looked away. He would have been bent over, hands on his knees, throwing up whatever he had eaten and drunk on the floor at the sight that surrounded him. Now, he felt he was immune to it. He wondered what that meant for him—but only for a fraction of a second—before burying whatever answers he had found in such a short amount of time deep within the darkest confines of his mind, locking it for good measure.
He didn't need such thoughts now. They were, after all, inconsequential. Useless.
"P-Please, n-no…" A man, perhaps in his late twenties, begged and sputtered. He was on the floor, pushing himself as far away as he could from them. He already had a wound to his side, blood gushed forth from it and with each of his movements caused a trail of it to be left. "I-I have a w-w-wife…and expecting a c-child. Please, s-spare me!"
"That is quite unfortunate, my boy," he said, taking the spectacles off the bridge of his nose and wiping them with a kerchief. "I understand you know who I am, correct?"
"Y-Yes!" the man answered, looking from him to the one next to him, uncertain on whom his attention should be most focused to. "You're…You're Hi-Hiroshi Sato. Y-You are o-one of us! Y-You made our victory against the scum of Republic City possible!"
"Hmmm," he hummed as he replaced his glasses back, the world looking as clear as it should. He knew what the man was trying to do as he tickled him with flattery. Unfortunately for him, such things do not work on one such as himself. "That really is quite unfortunate. You see, I do not wish to leave any witnesses. Sparing your life goes against that."
"Please!" the man was crying now. It was an ugly sort. His hands joined together as though in prayer to him and to whatever gods he believed.
Hiroshi gave a show of thinking, tapping his chin with a finger for good measure. His eyes raked the destruction his creation had sought as it did as he had programmed it to do—as he instructed it to do.
"Perhaps, you could change my mind," he said after a few heartbeats had passed.
"I'll do anything, sir!" The man responded enthusiastically.
The Future Industries CEO had no doubt that the man would. "Tarrlok, he is here, is he not?"
"Yes," the answer came quickly, as though the man knew his life could be held forfeit at any given second. "We are keeping him here. I can show you the way. He is kept someplace hidden, just in case someone comes snooping in."
"Lead the way then," he told the Equalist, before turning to face his creation and giving it another set of instructions, "Roam around and kill anyone in the vicinity. Do not leave any alive. Come back to me when you are done."
The automaton looked blankly at him, before turning around to do as it says. When he faced the man once more, he looked even more frightened than before it would not be surprising if he pissed himself.
"Well?" Hiroshi raised an eyebrow, his voice hinting on impatience.
The man quickly stood and began walking deeper in the hunting lodge. They passed several rooms in the ground floor, before entering the library where dozens of dead animal heads hung as decorations, the owner of the abode boasting of his hunting skills and his kills.
A pull on one of left antler of a Fox Antelope caused a rumbling as a hidden entrance was revealed on the bookcase closest to the fireplace, which was barely lit by dying cinders. It proved how right he was at letting the man come along. He would not have found this hidden pathway on his own, Hiroshi could admit to that much.
"We keep the Councilman down there," the man said, standing to the side to let Hiroshi enter first if he so desired. "I-I could lead you further in, if you want, sir."
There was a hopeful note to the man's words, as though in doing a lot more than Hiroshi had asked he would be spared.
"You have done me a great service," Hiroshi said in reply. "It truly is unfortunate…"
And before the Equalist could comprehend what the bespectacled man was saying, Hiroshi Sato drew a gun from underneath his coat, pointed it at the man, and without hesitation pulled the trigger.
Gunshot echoed in the night full of screams and carnage. The bullet did not miss its target, hitting the man square on his chest. Blood bloomed from the wound, quickly soaking the man's shirt even before his legs gave out from under him and he crumpled to the ground, his back hitting the wall next to the hidden pathway.
"W-Why…?" the man gurgled in his own blood. The final question he would ever ask took all of his strength to do so.
Hiroshi slowly let his hand fall to his side, the gun's nozzle still dispersing smoke. He looked at the man whose ragged breathing has turned shallow until, finally, the man's chest rose and fall no more. It was only when the man had died did Hiroshi answer the question he was asked.
"I did say I did not intend to keep anyone alive," he said. "I never promised I would let you live."
And with that, he walked down the newly-revealed steps uncovered by the man he had just killed. Hiroshi didn't bother to holster his weapon, he knew he still had use of it.
The cobblestone staircase led further down than any wine cellar could. Whatever purpose the hidden room had before being turned into Tarrlok's personal prison, the inventor could only guess. One thing was certain, whoever owned the hunting lodge had a twisted idea of how to pass time.
Soon, he had stepped on the swell step and looked around, thankful for the lights that flickered overhead. Sparse as they were, he was able to get a good look of the room—which was smaller than the one he had come from.
The walls were made of cobble. A lone, wooden dresser sat on the left from whence he entered, old and unused with mold clinging on its surface. A rusty bucket, brimming with dark liquid that could be anything but water sat beside it.
The other side of the room was bare, save for a stool that looked like it had seen better days and a vent with its railings as rustic as the bucket. Cobwebs stuck to the corners of the walls and on the ceiling and a foul odour permeated the air. Rats skittered on the floor, running away now that there was someone else in the room. Cockroaches, likewise, darted out of his way from the walls they clung onto.
But what he cared about most, at that moment, what truly captured his attention in that room, was the bars that were setup as a prison and the prisoner it held within.
There was no movement within that prison cell and Hiroshi moved as silently as he could. He didn't fear that the man he was looking for was as dead as the Equalist above. The man he had killed would have informed him of that.
The closer he got to the bars that separated the room, the more he got to see what the inside of Tarrlok's cell was like…which only consisted of a worn-out bed, a bucket similar to the one outside of the cell, and a tattered blanket. It gave Hiroshi great pleasure to see that the Councillor had nothing and even greater pleasure when he finally saw the man in question.
Tarrlok was curled up in a foetal position, possibly to combat against the cold and dampness of the room. He looked thinner as well, his clothes in no better shape than the blanket. His hair was longer, greasier, and messier than how Hiroshi was used to seeing him and a beard had started to grow where there was none.
The fallen politician's chest rose and fell rhythmically, a tell-tale sign that he was asleep. Hiroshi let the moment prolong itself, before finally kicking on the iron bars as loudly as his foot would allow.
The loud sound jolted the sleeping Tarrlok awake, his eyes quickly opening. The Water Tribesman groaned, pushing himself painfully and with much effort up to a sitting position. All the while, Hiroshi kept quiet. He would not speak until the other man noticed him, that was what he told himself.
Tarrlok rested his back on the wall closest to him, placed a hand over his forehead and groaned some more. He must have sensed he was no longer alone in the room, for as slow-moving as his previous actions were, the way his head swiveled to look at Hiroshi's direction was the fastest he had acted.
"Who's there?" Tarrlok croaked.
Hiroshi kept silent for a second longer before he replied, "It's been a while, Tarrlok."
The other man frowned, eyes squinting through the semi-darkness of the room. "Who…?" he managed, before his eyes finally adjusted and he answered his own question. "Hiroshi."
"I'm glad you remember me," sarcasm oozed from Hiroshi's words. "It wouldn't have do if you forgot."
"What do you want?" Tarrlok pushed himself upright, using the wall as support. His back was hunched, his head bent low as though it took too much effort to stand as tall and proud as he once did. "Did my brother sent you here to taunt me?"
"No," the Sato Patriarch admitted. "Amon—Noatak—doesn't know that I am here. I came here of my own desire, without his coercion."
"Going against my brother's wishes," Tarrlok laughed bitterly, gasping for breath afterwards and coughing. He wheezed his next words out, "I suppose we have that in common, to say the least."
"We have nothing in common!" Hiroshi was quick to say, his voice bellowing the words with spite.
The ex-Councilman stared at Hiroshi, and then his eyes moved to the gun in the CEO's hands. He chose not to say anything of it, but instead ask, "So, why are you here, if not on Noatak's beck and call?"
"My daughter," Hiroshi did not mince words. "Asami. I was told you know what happened to her."
"Were you not told that she was lost? Perhaps killed when Dragon Flatts Burroughs fell?" Tarrlok was back to leaning onto the wall, a hand supporting his ribs.
Hiroshi pointed the gun at him. "You would have to lie better than that, Tarrlok. I know what you had the police doing. I know you had a hand to my daughter's disappearance."
Tarrlok, despite being held at gunpoint, laughed. "I had nothing to do with that. Your daughter didn't disappear because of me."
"What do you mean?" He levelled the gun to the beaten man's head and demanded, "Answer me!"
"Asami didn't disappear because she was taken by some nefarious group of thugs of which you think I am a part of, Hiroshi." There was a sort of calmness in the way Tarrlok spoke and Hiroshi wondered if the other man thought he was bluffing; that his threats were empty. "Just like you, she is acting on her own accord—at least, that is how it seems to me."
Before he could ask what the Councilman was talking about, Tarrlok forged ahead, "Tell me, Hiroshi, is my brother still busy tinkering with the Spirit Bastille? Has he found a way to make it work?"
Thrown off-guard by the question, Hiroshi could only nod and offer what little he knew of that development. "He has found a way, yes."
The prisoner closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they looked straight at Hiroshi's own. "Then ask Amon. He would know where your daughter is better than I would."
"I would not be run around in circles!" Again Hiroshi bellowed and again he aimed his gun at Tarrlok.
Tarrlok shrugged—an action that caused him pain—then said no more.
"If you are not going to give me a straight answer, then I have no use for you," This time, he drew the hammer of the gun back. The clicking noise of the firearm seemed louder than it should be.
"And you say you and I have nothing in common."
It was like they were back doing drills. Only this time, it was much easier and much quieter, without Chief Bei Fong breathing down their necks and berating them every time they made a mistake. Gods, he missed those bygone days.
He had hated those days when they were forced to endure the hardships of Lin Bei Fong's command. But now, he missed them dearly. And as cheesy and clichéd as it may sound, he was willing to do anything just to bring those days back. Hell, he would even be willing to go through the gruelling motions of a month-long training if it meant he could relive those days when he was a part of the Republic City Police Department that Chief Bei Fong led.
What he had at present, however, was a rebellion that was on its dying embers and a mission that may—or may not—give the answers they sought.
As he and Gommu crept through the almost-deserted hallways and rooms of the hunting lodge, they found that something was wrong. Bodies littered the floor, blood splattered everywhere, as though some untamed beast rampaged through the house. The hunting lodge looked worst for the wear as well, signs of battle dotted the walls and the ceiling (including a dead Equalist who was hanging from the ceiling, their head smashed through it), tables and chairs—as well as other furniture and fixtures, including a rather expensive-looking lamp—lay broken and beyond repair.
Had they not been in the profession they were, Lu was certain he would have gagged at the smell of blood and death that permeated the air. He didn't care about the dead there, though. What he was most worried about was their quarry. His palms itched for the moment when it would wrap itself around Tarrlok's neck as he demanded to know where their Chief was and what he had done with her…and for him to be able to do just that, Tarrlok needed to be alive.
He was done being a 'good cop'.
But, that aspect of him was not done yet. And no matter how much he tried not to, he couldn't help but look at the room and try to gather as much clues in passing as to who (or what) caused such massacre and why, filling everything he had come across to the back of his mind to ponder and dissect later, if ever.
It didn't take them long to find what they were searching for, though. The corpses of the Equalists provided a well enough breadcrumb to lead them to the prize they sought, their blood like a neon trail that led to an otherwise secret staircase. And yet, they could not directly head to their intended target.
It wasn't because they had found the culprit responsible for such wanton death and destruction. Well, maybe that was a part of it—though it would be surprising if that was the case—but the cause for them stopping in their tracks was when they realized could overhear voices talking: one belonging to the fallen Councilman, the other a familiar one they did not expect.
Though, in retrospect, maybe they should not have been that surprised by the turn of events.
"If you are not going to give me a straight answer, then I have no use for you," The sound of a gun being cocked followed those words. Lu looked over at Gommu, who looked back at him and nodded.
"And you say you and I have nothing in common."
They had to move quickly then, and with precision. They were glad they still had their little doodads with them.
Before Hiroshi Sato could fire his pistol at the Councilman, they had already hooked a wire around his wrists and jerked him backwards. The movement caused his finger to pull the trigger. The gun fired, the bullet ricocheted on the walls, hitting no one in particular, before finally embedding itself on the dresser.
Before the Future Industries CEO could retaliate, Lu had darted forward, slipped behind him, and gave him a good, hard blow to the base of his neck.
Not one to give his opponent a chance, even when said opponent was already down for the count, Lu kicked the gun away from Hiroshi's prone form.
Gommu whistled from behind him, "Hiroshi Sato. I didn't think 'im a murdrer."
Lu didn't think the man had it in him as well, but…
"You can never really judge a book by its cover," he told Gommu, before turning around to face Tarrlok. "Councilman Tarrlok, you look worse for wear."
"To have so many visitors in just one night, something must be up." Tarrlok said. "What are you gentlemen here for?"
Gommu, at that point, had ducked around Lu and began working on picking the lock of the Councilman's cage. It didn't take long for the professional lockpicker to do his job and soon the doors leading to Tarrlok was wide open.
"We came for you," Lu replied.
He gave them a wry smile. "I didn't think you both would end up being my saviours."
Hearing those words, Lu couldn't help but laughing. It was the funniest joke he had ever heard since the whole thing began.
"Saviors? Far from it, Councilman. We are anything but."
And with that Lu gave Tarrlok the same treatment he gave Hiroshi Sato. It didn't take much force to knock the man out, being weak as he already was.
Carrying the filthy and ragged man on his shoulders like a sack of flour, Lu turned to Gommu and said, "Let's get out of here."
Gommu, of course, obliged and lead the way. The first part of their mission a success.
Their necks were craned upwards, staring at a sight neither thought they would see there or anywhere else, for that matter.
It was a giant tree in the middle of the swap. No. Not a giant tree. A ginormous, monstrously large tree. Its trunk was wide—wider than the width of an airship and it stood taller than the buildings Asami was used to seeing in Republic City. Its roots were higher, larger, and wider than a train's carriage as it snaked and tangled with itself, some buried underneath the swampy earth, others only half-way through. The leaves of the tree were the greenest any of them had ever seen, and it completely obscured the sky above.
How such a tree could not be seen outside the swamp—with or without the strange, thick fog—none of them knew. It gave such an airy of mystery, even before the Light Spirit informed them that the tree had always been there and had always been as big as it was.
"That is one, big tree." It was an understatement, but it was all Asami could say apart from her initial reaction of "Wow".
"It is…impressive," Korra agreed, having seen nothing like it before. But there was a much more pressing concern than such a wonder, and the Avatar felt time was of the essence. She turned to their otherworldly companion and asked, "Why have you brought us here, Spirit?"
"You wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery—of the fog and the strange aura that surrounds the fog—right?" It nodded towards the base of the giant tree. "If there is anyone as curious about it and wanted to fix it as much as you, Korra, then the Master of the Swamp is the one who can help us the most."
There it was again: the mention of a being Korra knew nothing of. She couldn't help the frown that appeared on her face.
"And this 'Master of the Swamp' person is here?" Asami asked.
The Light Spirit nodded, "Yes. She lives underneath the tree."
For someone who has seen more peculiar living arrangements, Korra found nothing wrong with the statement. Asami, however, was surprised. The Avatar could see the moment her human companion's eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of seeing something new and out of the ordinary. It was a much better look for her than the one she had been wearing since they had entered the swampy domain.
"If what you say is true, then let us go and meet this 'Master of the Swamp'," Korra demanded.
They made their way up the tangled roots of the tree per the Light Spirit's instructions. Knowing how difficult and taxing a climb it would be, Korra took Asami into her arms and air-bended their way up, landing on the surface of the roots which did not even wobble or break under their combined weight. Naga followed behind them, jumping her way up. Each step they took atop the thick roots of the tree was one of caution and care for one wrong move may send them tipping over the edge.
Soon, they arrived at an alcove made by entangled roots. The cave-like opening led to a path which the Light Spirit told them to take. There was barely any light in that path, yet Korra did not need to make use of her bending to light the way. The Light Spirit—true to its namesake—provided just the illumination they needed to travel safely through.
It didn't take long for the Avatar and her companions to reach a modest-sized room within, which they were amazed to see. It was a lot less dark there, with lamps flickering and chasing out the darkness. On one side of the room lay a hearth, still burning. How the flames of that hearth did not burn the flammable material the house was made of was a mystery. A divider—in the form of a wall made of more roots—kept them from seeing what lay further beyond on that side. On the other, a small wooden table, with a vase of flowers sitting atop its surface, stood on one side of the room surrounded by four, wooden chairs, beyond that was a makeshift kitchen and a figure moving around.
They had yet to take a step further in, seeing as the owner of the abode was present and doing so would be considered trespassing. They didn't even know if this 'Master of the Swamp' was to be trusted. The hunched figure in the house made of the giant tree's roots continued to move about, preparing something in the kitchen. And even though they didn't make a noise, and even without looking at their direction, the Master of the Swamp spoke, directing the words that was uttered to them.
"I was wondering how long it would take before you came seeking me out," It was a woman. An old woman. And though Korra had a hard time discerning between humans, always thinking they looked and sounded the same (save for those she found interesting, like Asami, for instance), there was something about the old woman's voice that tickled at her memory. "Tea is almost ready. Why don't you take a seat, Avatar Korra and you as well, Asami Sato. We have much to talk about."
Post Chapter Notes:
Soo...there you guys have it: another long chapter. It will probably be followed by an even longer one (featuring that one thing a lot of you guys have expressed you are excited to see).
Anyways, he're a little bit of a funfact: That part where Lu gives Hiroshi a karate chop on his neck and Hiroshi ends up crumpling on the ground? That thing that is such a popular method used to incapacitate people in movies/games/anime/cartoons (basically pop culture)? Yeah...that doesn't really work in real life. It would require a much greater force to knock someone out that way and it is a dangerous move to as you can end up doing extreme damage to the target of the attack. I wanted to do something realistic, but in the end went the same route as all the others have gone before me and copied what was done/being done in popular culture. So, a neck chop it is for Hiroshi.
Other than that, I don't think I wrote anything that required explanation or a trivia.
Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter. Comments, reviews, you know the drill, are very much welcomed and give joy to my little heart.
Again, thank you for reading and I'll see you all in the next chapter (that may or may not come next week depending on my Beta).
Dream on; Fly on!