Spirits of the night communicate with me,
of my visions of the future of what is yet to be.
Until the moment comes around,
like I've been here once before,
and I'm questioning the truth.
No escaping da ja vu!
If I could harness this power, assume absolute control
of my visions from the future, no one will ever know
that I've seen the day you die and I tried to change it.
You are running short of time, you'll just sit there waiting...
'Til the moment comes around,
like you've been there once before,
and you're questioning the truth.
No escaping da ja vu!
'Til the moment comes around,
like we've been here once before.
Now there's nothing left to lose,
no escaping da ja vu!
Faces become strangely familiar,
stumbling upon traces of my visions.
Now I see a shadow of a man,
in my silhouette he stands.
The wisdom of my premonition comes to life
I was just a kid back then,
but now I'm here to take revenge.
Haken-Visions.
Note: (*) indicating words from original anonymous prompt.
Also, I would like to thank a lovely lady, whose username goes by Dcdishy, for always helping me improve my writing with her wonderful ideas! You rock, girl!
Mako doesn't know how long he sits there in his room, reading the letter over and over again, feeling like his world has just shifted. By the time he looks at his clock, twenty minutes have passed, and his eyes don't seem to want to stop watering anytime soon. His eyes trail down the note one last time.
...Whatever he uses me for, I just hope you can forgive me. And, if I die, I just want you to know that you were the best big brother I could ever ask for, and I love you more than you could ever know...
Not him, not his baby brother...This wasn't what was supposed to happen...
...Please don't blame yourself. This is my fate, not yours...
"No, not you. Not you, too..."
...You've sacrificed everything for me, and now it's time to do some sacrificing of my own...
Goodbye, brother,
Love, Bolin
His clenches the paper in his hand, smearing the ink. He bites his lip, holding back a sob.
"Bolin..."
He punches the wall.
Once.
Then, twice. And curses. Curses like no one's around to hear him.
Mako knows it useless, but he has a stupid hope that maybe, his brother is still here. At least, that's what he tells himself as he bolts down the hall to Bolin's old room. He rams open the door -hard- just like he's been trained- and the sight makes his stomach twist even more.
Red- all over. The walls stained in some kind of sickly red, the smell he could never forget. Blood.
Bolin's blood.
He feels his face drain of color and the world tilt for a moment, and he has to grab the door to steady himself. He walks over on shaking legs to one of the walls, the horrid liquid still dripping to the floor.
It's all over the room. Over and over with the shaky left hand of his brother's that he used to guide up and down the papers as he taught him how to write in younger, more innocent times. His death sentence marks the wood like writing on a tombstone.
Twelve shall rule them all.
Twelve shall rule them all.
Twelve shall rule them all.
Mako sticks his shaking hand out, and puts his finger to the red. As soon as his flesh meets the crimson writing, he pulls back with a gasp. The blood hisses with smoke, and his finger stings as if burnt. As if he bent it with his fire.
Then a sound comes from behind. A squelching sound, like rubbing your finger on a wet surface. Goosebumps rise on his skin, as if the room just got colder.
"W-who's there...?" he asks the seemingly empty room. He snaps his head around, and nearly yelps in fear. The smooth surface of the dresser mirror freezes over, crystals cracking and crawling across the glass. Mako inches closer, fear bubbling up in his stomach.
Then, louder now, the squeaking sound begins again. Mako watches with wide, trembling eyes, as characters draw themselves into the fogged glass with an invisible hand. The writing is jagged, yet the message clear:
YoU...
CaNt...
SaVe...
HiM...
TwElve is OuRs...
Will a yell, Mako punches the glass before he even has time to process what his emotions are doing. His fist slams into the mirror, blooded shards flying everywhere. His shoulders heave for a moment, adrenaline making his breaths heavy.
"Oh, yeah?" he says, wiping his hand with his shirt, his fists clenching, "Watch me, you bastards."
The fog was making his head swim, and it only seemed to get thicker, the farther down the decrepit streets Bolin went. The buildings were crumbling, and looked like a small gust of wind would blow them over, which only served to deepen his depressing mood. Long green vines weaved themselves in and out of the broken windows, spiraling out of the cracks of roofs which flying Spirits perched upon. The creatures' squawks and calls could be heard for miles- that is, if anyone dared to come anywhere near where the Spirits marked their new homes. The Spirits claimed the more downtrodden, less glamorous parts of the city, not liking all the loud hustle and bustle of humanity, and needles to say, people were alright with that. It seamed that maybe the Spirits would leave citizens alone; and they did for the most part, unless provoked. People needed to understand that you couldn't just walk into a nest of vines like it was a store, or chop then up with saws unless you wanted to be chopped up as well. Which basically, was how his very first vision was seen, and unfortunately, played out.
Maybe that's why he found himself coming back here.
*"I don't think I like this whole 'vision' thing," he said.
Mako put a hand on his shoulder. "I know it doesn't feel like it, Bo, but you saved a lot of people today."
Bolin sighed, pain on his face. "But I couldn't save them all."
"That's not always possible," Korra said. "After the fight with Vaatu, Tenzin told me that what's important was that I did the best that I could, whether things went wrong or not."
"As scary as your visions are," Mako added, "I think they can help make the world a better place."
"Do you really think so?" Bolin asked as they finally reached the car.
"I know so." Mako gave his brother a genuine smile.*
Since Korra had taken down the vines and energy-bent all the Spirits back into their homes all those weeks ago, more were only in their place. The vines grew thicker and wilder than ever before, yellow and blue eyes blinking through the darkness. Bolin gazed back at them, feeling more connected to them then any person in the world at the moment.
"Hey..." his voice didn't sound like his own, "Remember me?"
He got a few chirps in reply. One four-legged sloth-like Spirit crawled out of the nest and perched up on the vines closest to him. It cocked its head to the side, and Bolin swore he could almost read its thoughts.
"I know. Thought you never see me again, huh?" he sighed, "Got room for one more in there?" The concept of crawling into a dark nest with Spirits and never being found again, was probably one of the least depressing thoughts his mind had come up with these past few weeks. It was better than standing on the ledge of Air Temple Island and wondering just how far the drop was, or how cold the water may be, for sure.
The Spirit just flicked it's long, oily-looking tail, and scurried back inside.
"Thought so." And with that, Bolin started walking again. Deadman walking, he could have imagined the words, but then again, if he chalked up everything he'd been seeing and hearing to his imagination, well, then, he'd gladly sign his own papers to the Funny Farm if it could keep him from what he was about to do. But he had a feeling that he had sighed his death sentence long ago, and you know, rules are fucking rules apparently.
The wonderful truth was, the only thing that was keeping himself from contemplating the length of the fall, or the frigid chill of the water as he plugged, was the thought of his friends, and the knowledge that he had to win this fight. Win this, or die trying, were the two simple rules, and he will determined to win. He had considered screaming that Son-of-a-monkeyfeather's name all through the night, but in the end, realized that that monster wouldn't be found unless he wanted to, and was really, much better at finding him, than vs verse. So Bolin walked the lonely streets in a depressing daze with his fate looming over his shoulders, already accepting the fact that he would never see any of his loved ones again.
He sat down in a particularly da-ja-vu inducing alleyway, folding his arms, and trying very hard not to show his fear. Was a damn good thing he had pissed before he left, or else his intimidating scowl would be in vain.
"I'm waiting, bitch. Come out and play like a big boy." Bolin smiled at himself; monsters could bring out the worst in people. He was done being a scared little boy.
After Mako's fractic display of the note that was left, and the state of Bolin's room, somehow the three friends had managed to calm down enough to try to think of some kind of plan. Asami came in, holding something that looked like a tape recorder. "I went to see my Dad yesterday, and asked him if he knew anything about The Abdicator."
"Um, that's great, Asami," Korra said, "But, why would he know anything about The Abdicator?"
"Well...it may be a long shot, but hear me out." The other two sat down and listened to what she had to say, "While I was looking at his picture, something struck me. His scars...didn't really seem like scars; they looked like they were in the shape of a symbol..."
"A symbol...? How do you figure that?" Korra urged her on.
"My Dad-," she cleared her throat, "Hiroshi used to take a lot of ancient folklore and Mythology classes when he was at University, and when I little, he used to tell some of them to me, like for bedtime stories and stuff. And one day I was looking through his stuff, and I saw this symbol in one of his books...and I'm not positive, but I think it's the same symbol as the one on The Abdicator's face..."
"So..." Mako considered, "he's cursed? Has a kind of power from those stories you read?" He asked desperately.
"Actually," Asami said, her voice grave, "I think he is the story. Or at least part of it. And Bolin- he may be the other part."
Their mouths dropped open, their face confused, "Asami, my brother just turned seventeen, how can he be part of some ancient story? That's crazy!"
"I know how it sounds. Just listen to this." She put the tape recorder on the table, and pressed the 'play' button. The conversation between herself and Hiroshi played back.
What do you know about The Abdicator?
No...that can't be. That's...that's impossible.
What is? You've heard of him before?
..Yes, but...but he's not a real person. He's just in the legends! The myths I used to study...
Well, he's a real person for us, and if we don't get more information on him, more people are going to die. Dad, you have to tell me what you know.
Alright... but it's a long one. You'll have to ask the guard for more time.
Tell me.
The story goes that, long ago, thousands of years ago, this man angered the Spirits. He was jealous of them having all this power, and some even being immortal, while humans suffered and were weaker. With the help of a Lion Turtle, he went into the Spirit World, and stole these baby Spirits from their mother, and brought them back to the physical world. He wanted to do...experiments...
Experiments...? What do you mean?
On the Spirits, you see. He was crazy, wanted a lot of power. Some Spirits are immortal, some are not. They all have different abilities. I'm not sure I remember the finer details, but somehow, the mother came to seek revenge on man for killing her babies. She put a curse on the man and his name, engraving that symbol on his face for all eternity. The Symbol means "The Judged". The Spirit said something along the lines of, 'if you want to be like us so bad, then you shall live forever in your pitiful human body, eternally looked down by Spirits everywhere for the harm you have caused.' The Spirit placed the symbol of Judgement on his face, and he was forced to forever live in torture, always tormented by the Spirits, and looking like an old man...
But he looks young in this picture. How can he be immortal, but look like an old man?
They are a few variations of the story, but the most common ending is this: He took on the name 'The Abdicator' to continue out his work to try to prove that humans were better, and anyone having any unfair advantage given by the Spirits, were vile in his eyes. Eventually, it goes that he somehow found this river that gave him youth, and it only made him more crazy. I never found much detail about this so-called river, but that's what I read. He lives out his eternity killing all those he feels will help put his plan in action, looking for his sacred one that will be the key to it all.
'Plan'? What plan? Does this have to do with the kids he's killing? What he wants with Bolin? Is Bolin the 'key'?
I do not know the specifics of it. All versions talked of some world-changing plan of evil that he strived to archive, but either pages were ripped out, or it was in a language I could not decipher... There was a reason I wanted you to stay out of my study room. Some people think that is one of most interesting mysteries of all time, and have tried very hard to find out what his 'plan' is. But if he wants your friend so badly, he must be part of this evil plot.
How can I get more information on the plan?
That is something that, unfortunately, only he himself will speak of to whomever he chooses. And if it's your friend that he wants, then I am sorry, but I don't think you'll be seeing him again.
Don't worry, we're going to stop him. Thank you, dad, this was very helpful.
Asami...what I said about your mother, what I did to you, I know you can never forgive me-
And she pushed the button to stop the recording.
The silence could be heard throughout the room. The kind of silence that cuts so loud that even a pin dropping sounds like an avalanche. Breathes were held, and the tension could be cut with a knife.
"So," Asami said glumly, after a minute, "What are we going to do? How are we going to find them?"
"He's going to find us," Mako stated, "And we are going to find Numbers Seven, Nine, and Eleven." He took the List out of his pocket; how he hadn't managed to char the damned thing to ash yet was beyond him. He pointed to the name that was not checked off yet. "Number Seven; Ta Gee. Water Tribe. Age fourteen. Abilities, Telekinesis."
"Where does it say he lives?" Korra asked. She glanced at the address, and cursed.
Asami frowned. "What?"
"He lives on the other side of the city. We'll have to take Oogiee."
...
Once Korra was getting the saddle on Oogiee, securing the binds as fast as her worried mind could, she noticed a disturbance by the docks. Or more so, something coming toward them, from the docks. A literal boatload of people came off the ferry, their faces hard like stone, scowls darkening their faces as they marched towered the three friends.
"Avatar Korra!"
"Oh, great." Mako muttered. Korra had never heard her own name stated so bitterly, with such...venom before. She knew she had messed up a lot, and was far from perfect, but these people looked like they were out for blood. She braced herself for the worst, as the crowd come up close to them.
"What's the problem everyone?" she stood boldly, shoulders back-strictly contrasting her confidence at the moment.
"Oh, I'll tell you what's the problem!" One man shouted, pointing a finger at her, "Our children are dead, and it's because of you! How can you just sit here on your Island when there's a maniac on the lose?!"
"I'm not sitting around! We're trying to get to the bottom of-"
"Trying?" a woman mocked, her eyes blood-shot, and hair a mess of tangles, "'Trying' to what? Make peace with all your little Spirit friends? You brought the Spirits into our world; this never would have happened if not for you! M-my little Sasha wouldn't be-ohhh!"
Korra watched as she broke off into a sob, her hand clasped over her mouth, with hunched shoulders. A man wrapped her up in his arms, sending Korra a glare over his wife's shoulder.
Korra's heart shattered. The connection clicked. This was the non-bender woman who spoke up to her that night in Dragon Flats Borough under Tarrlok's oppression.
Mommy, look! It's the Avatar!
Please, help us! You're our Avatar, too!
Korra brought a hand up to her eyes, shame coating her. She couldn't stand to look at the woman now. Her eyes that night had been so determined not to let anyone tell her 'no', her voice had been so strong as she called out to Korra in the panicking crowed. It had given her some hope.
Now they were full of hatred, and her sobs were going to haunt Korra's sleep for weeks to come, she was sure. Poor Sasha...
"You see what you've done?" another man retorted, his face red in rage, "All these families are broken, and it's on your head!" the man inched closer, hands heating up with a sparkle of flames."This never would have happened with Avatar Aang!"
Korra was about to defend herself, but Mako stepped up. "How can you blame Korra for this? Yes, she brought the Spirits into our world, but it's not the Spirit's fault, or Korra's! If your going to place your anger and pain on someone, do it to The Abdicator! He's the monster here, not Korra! Korra's risked her life countless times to save the city, and the world, so I'd remember for your sake who you're talking to!"
"Watch your mouth, boy!" Flames licked the corners of the man's lips, "I'd remember for your sake who your brother is! He's the freak the basted wants to play with, and killed our kids to get to him! We know which side you're on!" Mako snarled.
"Side?" Korra blinked, "We're on your side! We're just trying to help you! We're going to find The Abdicator and put a stop to him!"
"Yeah? Like that'll ever happen..." a younger man muttered.
"We were just on our way across town now," Asami offered, putting a hand on Korra's shoulder, "We have some new information on The Abdicator, and if you let us leave now, we'll stand a better chance!"
"Oh, no! No one's going anywhere!"
A scream broke on then, with an eruption of earth and fire from the crowd. Mako quenched the heat, while Korra stomped the ground hard, and cut off the earthbender's attack. The people kept charging at the three of them; those who couldn't use elements, used their hands and feet, one even had a pocket knife. Asami was holding her own against two men, dodging kicks and punches. The ground trembled and some people fell. Korra put earth shackles around their writs to keep the people in place from causing more harm.
The people hollered out curses and threats, thrashing on the ground wildly in attempt to break free of the earth shackles. "You're the worst Avatar ever!" a young man screamed, who couldn't have been much older than them.
Korra tried not to show her shame. She swallowed hard. "We're going to stop him! You're children will not be in vain! We're trying to-"
But the firebender was furious, and it was all Mako could do to counter his attacks. "Trying's not good enough!" the humidity could be felt increasing every second.
"You killed my son!" he screeched, vengeful flames flying through the air. Mako got knocked down by a rock, and Korra went on the defensive, killing each flame he sent at her.
"Please! I don't want to hurt you! We aren't your enemy!"
His face just got darker, and his mouth opened wide. A huge breath of flame flew out his mouth, white hot.
"Asami!"
It was nearly too close. Korra tried to push her out of the way, and before either of them could bend the fire out, a flash hit the girl's shoulder, charring a part of her hair. She yelled and fell to the ground, clutching her shoulder with tuffs of black hair smoking.
"You're gonna pay for that!" The water that Korra bent from the bay was fast and cold enough to give him frost bite, but she froze the man in place, leaving only his face exposed.
Then suddenly, Korra heard her own voice cut through the chaos. "STOP!" Her voice was deep, somehow not fully her own, and her eyes gleamed bright from the power of the Avatar State. She didn't remember willfully calling upon it. She felt Raava inside her, telling her to bring peace.
Everyone froze, the air dancing around. Everyone's eyes were glued on her. The powerful voice within Korra rung out. "Your children shall not be in vain, or forgotten. The world is changing, and so are the people. If we want to achieve peace with the Spirits in our own world, we must first accept the change within ourselves, and find peace with who are now. A new Era has begun, and the people are closer to the Spirits than ever before. The children of this generation will bring a new era of peace with their abilities, and shall pass on their talents to those who will come after us. Just as their will be benders, and non-benders, Spirits shall thrive and live among us, as well as our people who have been enlightened with these talents. They will be your parents, your sisters, and brothers, your cousins and your children. But we must learn not to fear these people, but to accept them as part of who we are as a people in this New Age. We must learn to accept the Change, externally, as well as internally. Only then will we be on the right path."
The air settled down, and the light in Korra's eyes dimmed. She stumbled a bit, falling onto one knee in sudden weakness, but Mako helped her up.
"That was...that was incredible, Korra." he pulled her up to her feet, "Are you alright?"
She moaned, "Y-yeah...I'm fine. Asami?" they looked back at their fallen friend, who was still on the ground. They rushed over to her.
All the people were silent, in awe at what Korra had just said. No one seemed to say a word as Mako helped turn over Asami. Korra bent over water from the bay, and her hands started to illuminate with her healing glow as they worked on Asami's burnt shoulder. Mako delicately pulled the tuffs of black, singed hair from her face, the brittle pieces crinkling in his fingers.
"Asami?" Korra asked gently. She smiled when she saw her friend's green eyes flutter open, slight pain clouding them, "Hey, Asami. You're gonna be okay. I know it hurts, but you gotta keep your eyes open for me, okay? I'm gonna fix you right up."
She moaned something, her brows furrowed in pain. "H'said he was s'ry..."
Korra leaned in closer, "What?" She moved her hands back and forth across the burn, the red skin torn around the front, part of her collarbone blackened. Korra swallowed. She would probably have a scar.
"H-he said..." she swallowed, and licked her dry lips, "...H'was s'ry."
"Who did?" Mako asked desperately, "Bolin?"
She shook her head slightly,"No...w-when I went'o visit'im..." her eyes closed again, and Mako shook her awake, "He said he was sorry...wanted to-to make it up to me..."
Mako and Korra looked at each other, realization and pity in their eyes. She was talking about her dad. What Hiroshi had started to say before Asami had turned the tape off.
Mako sighed and pushed the hair out of her eyes. "Shh... just rest. We're gonna fix you up, then go find those kids, okay?"
"Umhmm..." and she closed her eyes again.
Korra swallowed and shut her eyes in concentration. "Mako," she whispered, "I don't know if I can heal this without leaving a scar. Go into the med-bay and get some bandages and ointment. Top shelf, in the closet."
Mako nodded and went off.
Now in the courtyard, with her back turned to all those people watching her, Korra let some tears fall. All this pain... all this bloodshed...Raava talked of peace, and Korra was supposed to be the symbol of Peace and Balance, but it seemed like that would never be achieved. First Amon, then the war of the Water Tribes, Harmonic Convergence...She thought it was all over. That once she saved the world from internal darkness, that peace would finally come. If not to her, than at least the world. But the world was in more pain than ever now; she could feel it.
And Korra just couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, these people were right. Maybe this was all her fault.
She looked down when she felt a soft touch on her knee. "Why're you cryin'?" Asami's voice was getting a little stronger now, but she still wasn't all there.
Korra went with half of the truth. "I just want everyone to be okay." She wiped her eyes and gave a small smile.
"Don' worry..." Korra gently took Asami fingers, and let out a little shaky laugh.
"That's my job, Asami. I'm Korra, the World Worrier 2.0. Master of all four types of stress inducers."
The Fire Nation girl giggled, too, despite the moan it brought her. Then after a moment, she looked around, confused. "W-where's... Bolin? Is he okay?"
Korra's eyes opened slightly, and she sighed. It was no use explaining it to her when she was still dazed. She continued healing her wound, and only managed to answer once she saw Mako sprinting towered them from the temple. "That what we're all praying for."
After a few more minutes of healing, ( along with a few more curses and accusations from the angry people who were still shackled to the ground) and Mako helping her bandage Asami up, they managed to help her up onto Oogiee. She drank some water, and was looking more alert.
Right before Korra said the trademark 'Yip Yip' that cued the bison to ascend into the air, Korra released all the people, with a failed attempt to kindly ask them to go home. The friends managed to fly away from the Island, while dodging flying blasts of fire and rocks as they went on their way.
Korra couldn't help but bring a hand to her heart when she felt Raava's voice inside her.
Do not worry, Korra. Change takes time. Just like how a river sometimes runs very slowly, yet always has a destination. They will learn to accept it all eventually.
"I know. We just have to be patient." Korra only wished that they could all understand it now.
The darkness pressed against them, concealing their faces like a cloth-the clanking of their armor was the only indication that someone was there. The two metalbender's hearts were tainted with anger, and revenge, desperation clawing inside them, and making them go back on their sworn oath as officers.
But, Shang commented to his comrade, by doing this, they were ultimately helping to keep more people alive. His friend, Kun however, was a bit more weary, having yet to stop repeating that they were still making a deal with the enemy.
"It doesn't matter!" Shang stated, "Our friends are dead! Children are dead, and this deal may be the only way that puts a stop to this."
"Fine, then. You knock down the door."
Shang grunted. He knew quite well that he was risking his job for this ( if not his very life), and that if Beifong got word of what they were instigating, they'd sure be fired and put in jail on the spot. But desperate times, call for desperate measures.
With a wave of his hand, Shang bent the metal door's hinges, and they went inside.
The room was blacker than the night outside, if it were possible, with only a few candles lit on the walls. The place smelt like iron, and death. Kun tried not to cry out when he saw the unmistakable shape and discoloration of a once-intact head resting on the floor in the corner. Even Shang was shaking beside him.
"Gentlemen," the voice rang out, "So nice of you to drop by, and right on time I see. So, you want to make a 'deal' as you so described on your radio message?"
"Y-yes..."Kun replied shakily. His could swear that the skull blinked at him. Of to the side, a huge cage was filled with snake, and they hissed with delight, their bright eyes hungry.
Shang elbowed him, "Yes, we do." he replied, voice sounded far more calm then they both knew he was, "And we have a feeling you will like it."
"Well then," and The Abdicator swung slowly around in his chair, his hands clasped in his lap, "Let's hear it. I always do enjoy new twists to my game."
Kun turned red, "You think this is some kind of-"
The Abdicator glowered, his pupils seeming to grow darker. Kun gulped, and Shang tensed beside him, giving him a look that said 'let me do the talking'.
"Alright." Shang cleared his throat, trying to keep his gaze straight on The Abdicator, and nowhere else in the morbid room, "We will kidnap Mako, as well as the Avatar, and bring them here, to give Bolin more reason to cooperate with you, if..."
"If..?" the twisted man rose a dark eyebrow, the scars on his face seeming to shimmer in the eerie lighting. "Come, gentlemen, do explain your wager."
Shang sighed deeply, "If you swear not to kill anyone else. No one, not even the rest of the children on the List."
The silence that followed was painful to the officers' ears. If the man wanted to, he could chop their heads on in an instant. After what seemed like forever, The Abdicator replied, "Very well."
"You..what?" Shag was speechless.
"You're just going to..." Kun breathed, "Agree? Just like that?"
"Why, what did you expect? That I would feed you to my snakes, let them suck your blood out slowly through your veins while you scream in agony, then chop up your head?"
The two men blanched.
"You're right," he smirked, "I would not. That was Number Ten. You, my fine men, are humans, and deserve my true word. Go on, fetch the traitors and bring them to me. All the more joy at seeing Twelve's face and hearing his begs as they scream."
"U-um...your Highness?" Kun asked. Shang gave him a 'WTF' look, while said royalty looked quite impressed.
"Yes?"
"What is it you want Number Twelve for anyway? What are you going to do to him?"
"Oh, my friends, it is not what I will do to him, but more so what he will do for me. Once he is aware of his true destiny and full abilities, he will have no choice in the matter. He will revel in his glory, and have no complaints what so ever. That is the beauty of it."
The men blinked, "Then," Kun asked, "What do need Mako and the Avatar for? Why did you need to kill all those kids? Why-"
"Silence."
Shang and Kun shut up, backing closer to the door. "I have a plan, gentlemen. A plan that will change the world as we know it, and that boy is the key. He is the One." he stated loudly, "And that is all you need to know. No go!"
Before they could respond, a knife cut through the air, and stabbed into the wall just above their heads, the handle wobbling. The officers whimpered and ran out as fast as they could.
"Those poor fools," Maven's voice droned from the corner.
"Ah, yes, indeed."
The Abdicator stepped out of his chair and stretched like a cat, licking his lips. "Maven, do fetch me something to eat, all this bloodshed is making me famished."
"Yes, your Highness," he chirped, and mockingly-bowed like a servant. The Abdicator laughed as he went out the door, liking the sound of that.
"Maven, you are just too good, my friend."
He went over with a spring in his step, and pushed a beefy finger to a button on the wall. Upon the touch, a door opened up, reveling a hidden cell behind it. The Abdicator smiled, smelling the fear.
"Hello, Number Seven," he sung, "Or should I call you 'Ta Gee'? How are you doing?"
Said terrified boy could not speak. Inside the iron-barred cell, he was constricted in a straitjacket, preventing him from making objects move, so much as being able to wiggle his own toes. His mouth was tapped shut, and his hair was doused in black oil.
A mumble was the only coherent sound coming from the shaking boy.
"Ah, don't want to talk I see? How rude. You should at least be grateful that I went out of order."
All he got in reply was a horrified blink. The Abdicator yawned, "I would do away with you now, but I am very exhausted from all my planning. I am afraid your demise will have to wait until my supper and nap. Until then, this should entertain you." he pulled out a lever, and a drop of hot oil fell from a tube on the ceiling and fell onto Ta Gee's head, burning his scalp. A muffled cry was heard, and The Abdicator smiled. Every two seconds, a burning drop seared his victim's head, making him laugh. The boy should be grateful, The Abdicator thought, pretty soon he'll be dead and free of his curse.
The Abdicator smiled to himself as he walked into the kitchen. Everything was going according to plan, and Twelve would be in his mercy soon enough.
The tingling would not stop. He could feel the outer layers of his brain going numb/numb/numb, and then switching to icy/burning/icy/burning just when he thought he was getting use to one or the other. And the worst part was that knew it wasn't a vision, that it was him, but he didn't know what the fuck was going on.
Bolin braced his hands against the wall, his jaw clenching as the numbing came back in full force with disintegrating his brain tissues to mush. He bit back a moan, black dots popping in his eyesight as he tried to regain balance. This wasn't at all what it felt like during a vision, or the after effects of it. It was like his insides were going supernova, getting ready to explode. He had actually, in some miraculous way, managed to fall asleep on the one night that he had tried his damnedest to stay awake. Either his body was still remembering how cold concrete could mold itself into your shape after years of escaping the streets, or the world was shitty him once again. Because he had tried to stay awake, he had searched everywhere last night for the monster, even yelling his name into the darkness. Exhaustion had took him apparently; but not long enough, because he got woken up by his skull cracking open, then burning from the inside out.
A wave of pain nearly sent him to his knees and he let out a string of curses that he would be ashamed of in any other circumstances.
"Damn it, fuck, fuck, fuck..."
With a wild punch of his fist, he sent a boulder flying into the wall, pebbles and dust flying around him. He breathing was ragged, and he forced his shaking legs to sit down against the wall. He brought what little feeling he had left of his head into his hands, and thought.
He couldn't just sit here in this alley another day, or search the city for him anymore. The monster obviously wasn't coming to him, however easier that would make things. He had called out to Nyla, and Kuzon for what seemed like hours last night; to any of them whose names he couldn't help but remember. It became clear that he was own his own for this one. And honestly, all he wanted to do was sleep for the rest of his sucking life, and maybe never wake up while he was at it. A nice dirt nap would be an irony that his twisted mind couldn't help but smile at. But he had to do this. Bolin had to find him and set things right. And that's when it came to him; maybe he could try and sense him like Mako had suggested! Maybe...maybe he could use these damn powers to his advantage for once, and catch him by surprise. Like he said to himself, he was playing by his own rules now.
If he could do this like Mako had said- Mako...
No. He shook his head, he couldn't think that way anymore. He had said he last farewell to his brother in the note, and he accepted it his fate. This was his fate, and he couldn't afford to have second guesses.
He breathed in deeply through his nose, and crossed his legs like how Korra did when she was meditating. He frowned as disappointment dawned on him; he didn't have any object from The Abdicator, or any of the gho-kids- to use as a sensor...How the hell was he supposed to do this?
He sat there for a few minutes in a funk, massaging his temples with hopes that he still had some working brain cells left. Slowly, he rested his hands in his lap, and tried to block out all the static and tingling in his mind. Korra had said something about the world Changing, and that the people were, too, a few weeks back as they all sat at the Air Temple, celebrating their victory at being very much alive in a non-internally dark world. Something in the way Korra had looked at that moment made her seem wiser, and the words that came from her where not just of a girl, but an Avatar finally finder her place. She had said something about...Bolin shut his eyes tight in thought, trying to remember...something about accepting the change not only with how the world was now, but within ourselves. That we had to accept who we were becoming, and only then would we find peace.
At that time, Bolin didn't think much of Korra's words, only that all his friends were safe and happy for the most part, and the fact that, well- Spirits were roaming the world. But now that he really considered it, whether Korra knew it herself at the time or not, maybe a part of her was speaking specially to Bolin, trying to make him understand.
The realization hit him as he closed his eyes: these were his creepy powers. He was going to be this way for the rest of however-long-he-was-going-to-live. His creepy powers, and he would take control.
"I accept who I am becoming." the words left his mouth crisp and clear, and for a moment, he felt the air shift around him. The tingling in his head transformed from something that was an ach, to a feeling of intuitiveness that made the rest of the world drop away. He thought of how The Abdicator had looked all the times he had seen him, and formed a clear image in his mind. He focused on him, his form seeming to come to life in his mind's-eye; his hulking shoulders, and dark skin. Bolin could now make out the color of his eyes for the first time-red- the pupils in black slits like a cat-owls. He saw the deep, purple scars that ran along the skin of his face. How the shape was like a half a circle on his left cheek, and cut across his nose in an arc, which dipped down the side of mouth were it formed a dot. The Judged, his own voice spoke in his mind, your wicked ways shall soon come to an end. Bolin tensed, and almost lost the picture, startled by his own voice speaking those foreign words. But they felt...right somehow. He let the picture swim in his mind, his temple was sweating in concentration. He was trying to keeping his breathing steady in/out/in/out and all of a sudden-he felt it.
It was supernova to the max; every nerve ending in him was like live wire, electric. His eyes snapped open, blazing a green brighter than ever before. His whole body became illuminated at once, lighting up the alleyway as energy coursed through him. With a jolt, a vision took hold of his soul, and it played out right in front of him so clear that he felt like he could almost touch what he was experiencing. It was all he could do to keep reminding himself that it wasn't him, it was The Abdicator- not him.
He was in an underground chamber, sitting in a huge chair that was made of snake-skin. He had a glass cup in his right hand, swimming with a clear liquid that tasted bitter, yet sweet, and when he drank it, it filled him with energy. He watched in evil pleasure as his bony hands filled out, the wrinkles fading away to become strong, long, bones. He clenched his fists with pride, and thanked Maven for adding just the right amount of booze for taste. He spun and faced the mirror, reveling in his improved physique, and testing his muscles.
"Ah," he said as he faced the mirror, and he heard his own physical mouth open and speak the words from where was sitting in the alleyway, "if I am going to live forever, at least I get a body that is just as appealing, don't you think so, Maven?"
Maven nodded, and came over, putting his hands around his waist. "Yes, your Highness," he purred, and their lips joined in a tangle of tongue and a sting of salt. They broke for air, with a moan, and Maven let his fingers trail along his collarbone before he went into the other room. He walked back into the main room, and pushed a button on the wall.
"Time to see how my little Seven is doing." The wall opened up to a cell, in the middle of the floor, lay a boy in a straightjacket. He smelt like gas and oil, and the top of his scalp was burnt so bad that the skin was gone. Dead blue eyes stared back at him. "Oh, well, well, I see you've over stayed your welcome, my little Seven."
He whistled, and barking came in a horrid, hungry roar. "Boyysss...!" he called, and the dogs came running, feasting on their snack, tearing the flesh apart in seconds. He laughed and told them to at least try not to be too messy.
Then, slowly, he walked to a full length mirror on the other side of the room. He combed back his hair, and his lips pulled back in an evil grin.
"My, my, Bolin," he made a 'tsk, tsk ' noise as he looked at his own reflection shining back at him with glowing green eyes, and light. His own mouth was still saying all these words from the alleyway, as The Abdicator spoke them in perfect sync, "I told you to wait your turn, my boy, but now that you know where I am, I guess I'll just have to add some fun to mix, hmm? You are going to help me, whether you like it or not, so no sense getting so prideful. How is your head doing by the way, I see you haven't popped a blood vessel yet." he taped the mirror with his finger, his long nail grinding against the glass, "You see, we are a connected, you an I-not just at this moment, but in a much more deeper level. It is our destiny, our glory. If you want to know who you really are, the true strength of your abilities, well, then, come and find out," He winked, "It's. Your. Turn."
And with that, he tapped he finger on the glass once more, creating a cobweb of cracks, until the whole thing shattered at once. He saw his reflection completely dim of light ,and fall, until all that was left was the darkness.
He came out of it by having his eyes roll back and feeling him fall limp on his side. He didn't scream this time- no, he wouldn't allow himself to scream anymore, despite how painful it was both mentally and physically. His body was, however, covered in a layer of cold sweat that made his clothes stick to his clammy skin. Nausea bubbled up, and he swallowed back down bile. Well, that was just a fucking-tastic experience. His lips still tasted of salt where that-that creep had kissed him, and he was pretty sure his head was now hurting from the booze he had drunk in that youth-cocktail-thing...ughhhhhhh.
The bastard knew it, too. He fucking knew that they were connected, or-or joined, or whatever the hell it was that was happening, and used it to his advantage! So much for inner acceptance and controlling his powers. He put his head in his hands and cursed. He fucking needed a cigarette. A good one, with lots of taste that blocked everything out and the smoke made them all leave him alone. Yep. Uh huh.
No. That was not going to happen. He was not going to fall back to-
He gasped in pain as searing hot blades cut into his palms. He looked down in horror to see the red marks of-of something- some symbols etching themselves into the flesh of each of his palms. The red light was like a fire burning, and the ruins kept drawing into him with dips and curves and arcs. Finally, they stopped forming, and blazed bright. They dimmed down, and Bolin just stared at them with glazed eyes. He rubbed his finger against one, to see what would happen. Nothing. The markings stained on to his pale skin like permanent tattoos. Then, all of sudden, it came to him:
"Master," he uttered their meanings as if he knew them by heart. He rubbed his right palm, and then the left, "The Key."
He blinked, and clutched his hands. Well, what the hell else was going to happen to him? Was he going to transform into some kind of freaking Spirit?! He honestly wouldn't be surprised.
He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. He took deep breaths through his nose and tried to find some strength.
After a few minutes, he slowly opened his eyes.
"I accept who I am becoming."
He began walking to his fate.
After Korra and Mako and Asami had landed Oogiee in Ta Gee's neighborhood, they left a still- weary Asami on the bison (who argued that she was fine, and should be able to come! Don't you two leave me here! ) and went to the address.
Unfortunately, they had opened the door to teary-eyed parents who had frantically exclaimed that their son had been missing since the day prior, and the mother had a 'mother's instinct' that her baby boy is gone, I just know it!
Mako and Korra gave each other a look, and Mako had displayed his badge, asking if they could investigate Ta Gee's room for any clues. To Mako's surprise, they had the opposite view that Kuzon's parents had, and tearfully led them both to the boy's messy room on the top of the stairs.
"This place is messier than Ikki's room," Korra muttered, "He definitely can move stuff with his mind." She realized after, that she was speaking of the boy in present tense, but the mother and father made no comment.
"He had some trouble," the father, Mr. Hukka stated, "with controlling it at first."
"Things used to fly all over the place," Mrs. Hukka laughed wearily, crumpling a tissue in her hand, "But he practiced. Our boy was determined to hone his powers after a chair flew out the window. He got good at it, too, slowly, but surely."
Mako and Korra just looked at each other. What could they say? Mako was horrible with this kind of thing, and the encounter with Kuzon's family still stung his heart.
To Mako's surprise, Korra put a gentle hand on both their shoulder's, and smiled gently, "Your son will not be in vain. We will put a stop to this. Please, don't worry."
Mako wanted to ask her if she could give him any advice, because his poor brother was probably being tortured at this very moment, and he was in some dead kid's bedroom. Mako felt tears pricking his eyes, Bolin's note crinkled in his pocket. Would this piece of paper be the last memento he ever had of his little brother?
No, he was going to find him. He had to.
"...Right, Mako?" Korra elbowed him.
He blinked and looked up, snapping out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, "I-I'm sorry?"
Korra gave him a sympathetic look. "So, are their any items in here that you would not like us to touch?"
"Oh, no, no," Mrs. Hukka waved her hand, "Do what you must. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask."
Korra bowed in respect, and closed the door behind her. "C'mon, Detective. Time to do your thing."
Mako swallowed. "Right."
After a few minutes of searching, both of them didn't want to say the sad truth; they had found nothing useful in the room that led them any closer to finding The Abdicator, and the fact that they most likely would if Bolin was here. But if Bolin was here, they most likely wouldn't be here in the first place.
"Well," Mako kicked the floor with his foot, "Damn. Some Detective I am."
"Come on, help me move the bed. Maybe there's something-"
They both snapped their heads up as the window crashed in, shards of glass going everywhere. Two men in metalbending outfits were there, both their noses and mouths covered by masks.
"Sorry about this, Mako," one of them said.
Mako squinted, he knew those eyes, he knew that voice. "O-officer Kun? Officer Shang?"
"We gotta do what gotta do kid, nothing personal." Then Shang pushed a button, and white gas flooded the room.
Mako and Korra started coughing instantly, breathing in the fumes. Mako fell first, and Korra tried to dissipate the gas with her airbending, moving the air around the room. But it was no use, she had already smelt it, breathed it in. Shang pushed another button and more came out, putrid and burning in her throat.
"No..." she groaned and weakly fell to the floor. From her weakening sight, she saw Shang toss Mako's unconscious form over his shoulder like a rag doll. She gagged and gasped again, her eye lids getting too heavy. She felt someone pick her up, and swing her on their back.
"N-No..."
Then she passed out.