i.
old to new
"Amon. Sir."
He slowly turns around, the edges of his cloak fluttering in the small breeze as he moves. "The girl?"
"Yes, sir. She is awake."
A twisted smile curls around the corner of his lips, although it is hidden from the world by his blank ceramic mask that inspires hope—and fear—throughout the population.
"Very well. Invite her into tonight's raid at the Hare Plains Borough."
The Lieutenant's pencil mustache twitches as his lips curve down into a frown. "Sir?" A note of uncertainty is evident in his crisp yet gravelly tone of voice.
"You heard me, Lieu." He waves a hand, clearly dismissing his second-in-command, who gives him a long look for another moment before bowing and shuffling out of the dark room.
He turns around to face the wall again; shadowed eyes narrow behind the pale-faced mask.
She has lost her memories. That much is certain.
He must be careful with this girl: handle her as if she is a timed bomb, ready to detonate at any second and thus, ruin the Equalist movement from the inside. For all he knows, she very well may be a bomb, both in her attitude and physical meaning.
Yes, her prominent meaning as the Avatar. He knows that the master of four elements—in this girl's case, master of three elements as well as the queen of hotheads—has just arrived at Republic City, fresh off the boat, at Air Temple Island. (Which also means that the airbending brat, Councilman what's-his-name, would be absolutely freaking out over her disappearance.)
Why would the spirits drop such an important bender into his hands as a trapped rabbit, complete in one neat package—for La's sake, she had even lost her memories of bending, lost her memories of her former life, lost every single goddamn one of those precious thoughts, save for her name.
Without the Avatar title, of course.
There must be a hidden meaning to this, and he intends to find out exactly what it is. But for now, he intends to have his fun with her while he can.
The smell of the helmet is absolutely atrocious.
"How do you people breathe in these things?" Korra complains to Teo, holding out the sagging, limp mask in front of her, her nose wrinkled up into an expression of blatant disgust as she tries to hold back the stench of smelly, aged leather and what seemed like sweaty socks that had been dragged through mud for a week, thrown into a dump, and covered in green slime before returning to its poor owner. "You could knock these benders out with the vile reek of the mask alone."
Teo shrugs. "One or two washes later will do it plenty good."
After Korra had wolfed down several helpings of rich and hearty stew back in the mess hall (and had quite shamelessly done so too, although she surprised the cook by coming back for thirds), easing the grumble in her stomach, Teo had dragged her off to get measured for a uniform. Korra had been prodded and poked and measured and stretched by the grumpy old tailor (who also appeared to develop a burning hate for her upon sight), who afterward claimed her as a size AA5—whatever the hell that meant—and had thrust the dark bundle of clothes into Korra's unwilling arms, leaving her to get dressed by herself.
She had gotten into the jumpsuit with no problem at all, and surprisingly, it was quite comfortable and form-fitting, but she was having many issues with the headpiece—exactly what she is fretting to Teo about right now.
"I am not putting this thing on," she bluntly says, deftly tossing the helmet across the room so it lands with a muffled thunk on an old wooden bench.
Teo rolls his eyes. "Korra, you'll be sure to get caught by the police if you jump into a skirmish without a mask on. That's the whole point: strike fast, leave quickly, all in anonymity."
Korra grunts. "What business do I have with you, anyways?" she asks, grumbling. "I mean, not that it's a horrible thing or anything, but I just woke up an hour ago and the Lieutenant dude wants to debrief me?"
"I...actually have no idea," Teo frowns, stroking his non-existent beard. "Normally, Amon doesn't like to send out Equalists who have just joined our cause. Not enough experience in chi-blocking, and such."
"Chi-blocking?"
Teo nods thoughtfully. "Yeah. See, there are pressure points in human bodies. Chi is the metaphysical energy that flows through one's being, and it is also deeply tied in with bending. By blocking certain chi paths along the human body, we can effectively prevent that bender from bending as well as stun them for a while, if only for a few hours."
Korra nods, rather impressed and excited to learn of this new skill. "Seriously? So, if I just like, jab you along the arm, I can stun you? Just like that?"
"Well, yeah," Teo says off-handedly, "but you'd need proper training to do it properly. You have to have competent knowledge of the way chi paths flow through the body; you can't just poke someone in the arm at random places and expect them to stop blasting flames at your face. And you have to be quick at it, pop, pop, pop, before your opponent has time to react. Oh, and by the way, another great reason to wear the mask—it's flame-resistant, to a degree."
Korra stares at him. "Chi paths..."
"So, what're you gonna teach me first? A water whip? A water jet? Oooh, I know! I wanna learn the water bullet!"
"Be patient, Korra." The voice speaking to her is kind and elderly, and she feels a surge of warmth flood through her, feeling utterly and undeniably protected under this woman's benignant gaze. "We will get to those in well due time. But for now, we will be focusing on healing."
She deflates visibly. "Okay," she glumly says, dejectedly following the old woman to a small hut, in which a pitch-black, unmoving human lies. Lines criss-cross across its torso, its arms, its head, and she cocks her head at it in confusion.
"Hey, Sifu, why's that person all stiff? He has a lot of white lines cutting through him, and he doesn't have eyes, or a mouth, or a—"
"Yes, Korra," the old woman says patiently, drawing her hand through the air to manipulate a tendril of water from afar. "It's a mannequin. It's a carving, and the lines represent a human's chi paths." The twisting glob of liquid settles down onto the model's chest, and a softly pulsing blue glow fills the air.
Korra is mesmerized by the shining water, and the light seems to spread through the body through the lines—chi paths, Sifu had called them—enveloping the two of them in a pulsating azure shine.
"Um. What are chi paths?" The name sounds very important.
"You see, Korra, everyone has energy flowing through them. This is called chi. Generally, the energy flows through uniform paths in our bodies, but if that flow is disrupted, we may become ill or hurt. Waterbenders may use water to unblock those chi paths, and thus, help a person grow healthy again. For instance"—the old master gestures towards the mannequin's arm—"there is an art that may be used by non-benders called chi-blocking, which disrupts the flow of the chi I talked to you about. If, for instance, they wanted to block a waterbender's bending, they strike here, here, and here." She points the spots out, which include the shoulder, lower upper arm, and the backside of the forearm.
Korra blinks, snapping out of the newly-found memory. Teo is looking at her with a healthy degree of concern.
"You okay there? You just seemed to blank out for a second."
"Uh huh," Korra distractedly says, eying Teo's arm.
That spot. And that, and that. I wonder how it'd work on a non-bender...
"So, about chi-blocking," Korra continues, her eyes glinting mischievously, "what would happen if you used it on a non-bender?"
Teo shrugs. "Well, we don't have any bending to lose, so the part of our body that's been chi-blocked will just be paralyzed, I suppose."
"Quick and short jabs, right?"
"Korra, you don't even know how to—ouch!"
Korra has locked onto the spots from her memory and, using the tips of her fingers, stabs into the points in rapid succession. Teo's right arm drops limply to his side, and he stares at her, his mouth agape. "How did you—?"
Korra grins proudly, folding her arms. "What d'you think?"
"My arm feels like jelly," Teo grumbles, trying to shake some feeling back into his right limb, but he only succeeds it flapping it around like a wobbly piece of solid jelly. "Aw, damn it, Korra..." He looks up at her curiously. "But, really, how did you know where to hit?"
Korra shrugs uneasily, unwilling to share her memory with the Equalist. Not yet. "Beginner's intuitive guess, I suppose?"
Teo slaps her on the back with his good arm. "You, Korra, have the makings of a top-notch Equalist, I'll grant you that."
Korra grins even more widely, allowing herself to be led to the Lieutenant, but even as she's smiling, deep down inside, she feels guilty for doing so.
And she has no idea why. A nagging thought pulls at the back of her mind, whispering doubts, lies, and deceit, but she shoves it away.
After all, if she can't remember her old life, she'll just have the forge a new one, wouldn't she?
End Notes: All right, enough with boring you people with exposition, but it's necessary. You'll find out why later. I have big things planned for this story; I can't wait to show it to you guys! Chapters will get much longer, and the real action will start. After Chapter Two, things will fast-forward to six months later, and then...well, you'll just have to keep on reading to find out what it is, won't you?
Reviews, favs, and follows, as always, are appreciated. Thanks!