A/N: This was hard. Very hard. I'm going to miss this fic. I'm going to miss Book One. And, if tomorrow's episode goes the way I fear it might, I'm going to miss Amon. Thank you so much for your support and for feeding my confidence during this little undertaking. Best fandom ever. :)

.*.*.*.

XII
Spirit

Korra. Do not let the Avatar State control you. Do not let it feed off your anger.

Deep within herself, Korra stirred, slowly becoming aware of her body.

It is time to awaken.

"Aang?" she whispered.

Her feet slowed, awareness returning as the state faded. Amon was limp in her arms, growing increasingly heavy now that her body was aware of her exhaustion. She spun in a slow circle to try to orient herself. It was still daytime, though the sky was cloudy and grey. The mountain path below her was littered with smashed trees and uprooted earth, and she wondered nervously if she had torn a path of destruction through the city. Above her was a small tunnel in a mass of scattered earth and debris. It took her a moment to recognize that this was Observation Mountain after the landslide, and the realization twisted like a knife in her heart. Why had her Avatar State-self come to a place of such confusion and emotion when she was already in so much pain?

Holding Amon close to her chest, she struggled up the steep embankment, her boots sinking into the churned soil. As she walked through the tunnel, the air coated her tongue with a familiar damp, earthy taste. The cave yawned before her, darker and smaller than she remembered. She blasted a ball of flame at the ceiling to light the room. Though they had only been trapped in it for a few days, each jutting rock and crack was so familiar that a wave of nostalgia crashed over her, and so many emotions warred for her attention that she only felt numb. Exhausted, she fell to her knees and lay her companion on the rocky floor.

"I think you've spent more time unconscious in this cave than conscious, Amon." Her voice cracked; it appeared she hadn't yet run out of emotions after all. Her hand pressed against the cheek of his stark white mask, thumb sliding against the bloodstained nose and mouth as if to wipe it clean. After a moment, she unbuckled it and lifted it off. His skin was warm, his breaths normal. If it weren't for the bloodstains on his face and the stagnant chi she had felt while in the Avatar State, she would have thought he was sleeping.

"Please, Amon," she whispered. "We've had so many goodbyes. I'm not sure I can take another one." She sank to his chest, her ear flush against his sternum. His heartbeat was deceptively strong, and her hands curled into his tunic. Why had she brought him back? Letting him linger in limbo like this was a mockery of his life.

Her hand reached down to grip his, which was clenched in a fist. "I'm sorry. I couldn't save you after all." She uncoiled his fingers one at a time, intending to lace her hands through his.

Nestled deep in his palm was a small white shard.

Korra sat up. Grabbing it, she shoved it against the fractured edge of his mask. It fit perfectly.

"Hang on," she told him. Maybe if she mended it, she could fix the severed link with his saviour spirit. She tried to earthbend, struggling a bit to balance the raw power of earthbending with the delicacy required by porcelain, but the material would not respond.

With a defeated sigh, she set the mask down.

If she couldn't fix it, she could at least clean the blood off it – and off Amon's face, while she was at it. She hurried down the tunnel to the pool and returned with an orb of water trailing behind her. Kneeling beside him and keeping the orb of water before her, she pulled off a cloth armband with her teeth and drenched it. She gently scrubbed his nose and mouth clean, focusing on the busy work so that she did not have a second to consider his condition. Next she attended to the mask. The blood lifted easily from the porcelain.

She stopped and squinted at the mask, then at the water. The mask had come from the spirit world, where animate and inanimate had different meaning than in her realm. Maybe earthbending was the wrong approach to try to fix the mask. Experimentally, she engulfed the mask and shard in water, intending to heal it.

The mask glowed blue.

At first, hope budded in her chest, but then it began to feel wrong. While she had expected the usual sensations of healing – a sense of union, of binding – she instead felt as if the mask were drinking her energy. Absorbing it. She pulled back against it a little and felt its strength increase. Gasping, she jerked away, breaking the contact.

For a second, she sat still, breathing hard, but then she became aware that something was watching her. A whisper of air breathed across the back of her neck. Slowly, she turned her head.

A dark wraith floated behind her, its shape barely distinguishable as humanoid. Its arms were long and wispy, and its body flickered in the light from her flame, unsteady, as if it were actually a shadow cast by a being she could not see. She blinked to try to clear it, feeling as if she were viewing it through a film or fogged glass.

"You have summoned me, Avatar." Its voice sounded directly in her mind without her ears hearing it.

"I did?" She looked down at the mask.

"Your energies reached through the fading link and guided me to this world."

"You are Amon's protector spirit?"

"Yes."

A shiver ran down her spine. Speaking with spirits, just like a real Avatar. This was not what she had expected – there was no feeling of deep connection or transcendence or supernatural clarity. All she felt was confusion.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I am an ambassador for many in the spirit world. A keeper of the balance."

"I am a keeper of the balance as well."

"A keeper of the balance, and yet you are trying to cheat the laws of death?" asked the spirit.

Korra's eyes traced Amon's prone form. "I'm trying to heal him."

"You cannot and will not succeed, because you do not understand the balance. His borrowed time has ended. It takes more than one man's spirit to recover from timely death, Avatar, and thus it is a great upset to the natural balance. Fate is an expensive force to overcome."

She tried to find a place in the shadowy black mass to focus upon. "That's why you gave him some of your spirit last time you brought him back, isn't it? To pay Fate's fee. Because he was fated to die that day, but you saw in him something that you needed, so it was worth upsetting the balance."

"You are half correct. We did not give him a part of my spirit, Avatar."

"Oh. He said-"

"We gave him a part of yours."

Her eyes widened. A growing sense of danger began to pit in her stomach. "What do you mean, you gave him a part of my spirit?"

"Your predecessor's." The spirit's voice grew in volume in her head. "As his life force was failing, we plucked a piece of his spirit - it was easy, like plucking rotten fruit from a tree. He was so frail that he did not have the spiritual fortitude to resist."

"Aang was a good man! Why would you harm his spirit?"

"The lifetime of Aang is only a drop in the ocean of your life. Your physical manifestations are but your masks, Avatar. Your soul, beneath it, is more bloodstained than any other in history, for you are the ambassador of all benders, all humans who have misused their gifts. Your task has always been to maintain the balance, and you have failed. So we intervened. We devised a solution."

The words sounded like they could have come from Amon. "You used him," she said. "He was your mouthpiece in a crusade against all benders. Against me."

"More than a mouthpiece: the guardian of your limits. A yin to your yang."

Korra glanced back at Amon. Once his mask had broken, she realized, she had suddenly started moving like an airbender and had unlocked the Avatar State.

"You gave him some of my abilities," she realized. "Airbending, right? That's why he moves like an airbender. And energybending. And maybe some part of the Avatar State." She had always wondered why Aang's dying wish had been for the Order of the White Lotus to protect her, in a time of no foreseeable war. Maybe his last encounter had been with this spirit; maybe he wanted to protect her from it. Korra's eyes darted to the exit, gauging the time it would take to snatch up Amon and run. Her instincts told her that she wouldn't make it. Diplomacy was going to be her only way out, at least temporarily. Her heart sank; what did she know of diplomacy with the spirits?

"Some of your abilities came along with your spirit," it said. "What better way to ensure balance, true neutrality, than with two halves of an Avatar on two opposing crusades?"

Protest formed on her lips, but she was too stunned to voice it. She picked up his mask and smoothed her thumb over the porcelain. A link between her spirit and Amon's, from before she had even been born.

"Tell your fellow spirits that your fears are unwarranted," she said. "My heart is pure and my will is strong. I see the corruption that bending has caused. I will fix the inequalities."

The shadowy form began to liquefy, its pieces running together and taking solid shape. Its torso was long and cylindrical, with arms and legs twisted together like wire. Its face was blank, a solid black lump. Korra took a step back and crouched between the spirit and Amon, muscles coiled.

"We can offer you a choice, Avatar," said the spirit, its voice reaching her ears now. "His life force is stagnant, and it is only a matter of time until his body realizes this and passes from this plane. We can save him, if you are willing to once again relinquish the piece of your soul that he possessed."

She tensed. "Then I could never become a fully realized Avatar."

"You claim to be pure of heart. How, then, could you choose your own ambitions over your lover's life? Over true balance?"

"They aren't just ambitions. They're the entire reason for my existence." Her brows dropped. "The Avatar Cycle comes from the planet herself. A small group of disgruntled spirits does not have the right to tamper with it."

"We are waiting for your response."

"This is not a fair choice; your price is too high. There must be another way to save him."

"It is the only way. The spirits I represent would never allow me to use my powers in a way that does not limit yours."

Turmoil churned in her stomach. For a moment, she hesitated, but deep down, she knew what fate required.

She sank to Amon's side and pressed her forehead to his. Her palms smoothed either side of his face, memorizing every contour, every nuance to the textured skin. "I'm sorry, Amon," she whispered. "I loved you." A final soft kiss to his lips, a moment to steady herself, and then she stood and faced the spirit. "There is no choice. My role as the Avatar is more important to this world than anyone's life. Even his."

The spirit did not speak. She could feel it watching her. Her fists clenched and she blinked back her tears. "Did you hear me, spirit? I refuse your offer!"

"You are greedy," it said. "You choose to keep your powers out of twisted desire for control, completely disregarding the balance. You are not worthy." Wind began to kick up around her, ruffling her clothes. "You have been corrupted by your power. You are a problem that must be solved."

A black hand darted toward her.

She felt the rush of the Avatar State blossoming in her chest to protect her, but it didn't take control in time. The spirit's hand was already on her forehead. There was a great tearing deep within her, and she shrieked. Then she fell to her knees, breathing hard.

"What did you do to me?" she demanded, sagging to all fours.

Amon's mask, by her left hand, began to glow. The porcelain shard snapped into place as if pulled, and the markings reformed, the colours new and bright, gold and red.

Behind her, she heard stirring. Her heart caught in her throat. She didn't turn around, too afraid that her ears were playing tricks on her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amon's hand clamp over the mask and tug it from view.

"Balance will be maintained," said the spirit. "The unworthy shall be punished."

.*.*.*.

Amon buckled the mask into place, and then his eyes opened. The cave? Was he dead? The last thing he remembered was agonizing pain, then blood filling his nose and mouth...

His vision came into focus. Korra was on all fours before him, and he started to move to her, but stopped when he saw the spirit looming above her. His protector. Awe washed over him. Had the spirit saved him again, just as it had when he was a boy?

"Welcome back, little one," said the spirit's voice in his mind.

"Spirit. What has happened?" he asked, but his lips did not move. Wind rushed through his ears.

Korra spun to look up at him, and her eyes widened. She said something, but he heard nothing above the wind and the spirit's voice:

"She chose for you to die."

Amon shook his head. "You must be mistaken, spirit. That is not in Korra's nature."

"I gave her a choice between saving you and relinquishing a fraction of her bending abilities, or letting you die. She chose bending. Even the Avatar is corruptible by power."

The choice shouldn't have surprised him, but he couldn't stop a frown from overtaking his mouth. "And then you saved me."

"Yes, little one. You still have much to do."

Korra was standing now, screaming at him. "What is she saying? She looks distressed." He strained his ears and there was a high-pitched whistling, like steam escaping from a vent, finally yielding to a burst of sound:

"-hear what I am saying? Amon, answer-"

The muteness muffled his ears again, and he felt his anxiety drain from him as the spirit continued to speak:

"You must end all those who are corrupt." A pause. "All of them. The time has come, little one. Do not disappointment me."

The wind in his ears finally faded and he blinked, groggy.

"Please say something," said Korra, gripping his arms.

He stepped away to break the contact. "My benefactor tells me that you chose my death."

She flinched. "That isn't the whole story, Amon. I tried so hard to save you. Tarrlok killed you, and I was able to heal you, but your chi-"

"She chose to let you die," said the spirit's voice, real this time. "This, after she tore a hole through Republic City in grief, in your name."

"No I didn't." Korra's face paled as she snapped her gaze to the spirit. "Did I?"

"She does not even remember, so consumed was she by her corrupt power." The spirit's words were like tendrils in his mind, coiling around his thoughts. "She must be equalized."

"No!" Turning back to him, she gripped his arm. "Listen to me, Amon: the spirits are using you. Back when they first saved you, they took a piece of my spirit so that I cannot become a fully-realized Avatar. They gave you my airbending and spiritbending, and-"

Her voice faded out as Amon's senses dulled. Airbending. The word was like a missing gear fitting into place. He thought of his ability to move with great dexterity at high speed, to jump higher than his peers, to easily clear mist and smoke with a wave of his hand - had he been bending his whole life without realizing it? Didn't that mean that his entire crusade had been built on a lie?

Looking down at her face, he remembered the soft flesh of her lips on his, her little half-smile when he said something that pleased her, the way she gasped his name when they made love...

"Do not let her sway you!"

Amon yelled through clenched teeth against the cacophony in his mind, doubling over and stepping back. Thoughts warred for his attention, and it was impossible to tell which were his own. Self-control was sifting through his hands like sand.

"What are you doing to him?" demanded Korra.

"Helping him see the truth," said the spirit.

"Get out of his head!" With a yell, she kicked a blast of flame at the spirit, but her foot went right through it as if it weren't even there.

She dared to attack his protector, the benevolent spirit who had saved his life twice? His heart sank as he realized that the spirit was right: she had lost all control. His heart broke at the thought of destroying her – the anguish was almost unbearable – but his whole life had been building toward her destruction. They had both known this was coming. The balance had to be maintained.

"Enough." Amon righted himself. "Avatar Korra, it is time for you to be cleansed of your impurity."

"This spirit is manipulating you," she said, whirling to face him. "You aren't thinking clearly."

"I am thinking more clearly than I ever have." This had to be his path. It had to be the correct choice. The only other option was that his entire life had been built on lies.

She tried to stare him down, but he held her gaze, carefully keeping all emotion from his eyes. Finally seeing that he wasn't going to yield, she took a deep breath and readied her stance.

"I guess you're finally getting your showdown after all," she said bitterly.

"Do not make this any harder than it has to be, Korra." He lowered his body into stance as well. "We always knew how this would end."

He ran at her.

She launched a rocky spike beneath his feet; he easily dodged. Another spike. She was herding him into a blast of flame. He swept his arms in front of himself to part the flames and leaped cleanly through it, landing in front of her.

"You just used airbending," she said. The words were like a blow to the head. He clenched his jaw, willing himself to finish his task, and stabbed at her with his fingertips. She blocked each of his attempts, fiercely matching his speed. Her fist drove for his mask, as he had anticipated; he ducked and stabbed a trail up her flank. She slumped to her knees.

Her eyes were fierce. "It doesn't have to end like this. You don't have to be their pawn. This isn't who you truly are, Amon. It's who the spirits have moulded you to be."

"Do not be swayed, little one. Your mission is almost complete."

Sweat beaded on his temples. His hand clamped onto the back of her neck. Closing his eyes so that he wouldn't have to watch, he raised his hand.

"I'm sorry, Korra. I won't enjoy this," he said. A tear leaked from one of his eyes as he began to lower his thumb.

"I believe you," she said, her voice quiet. "I love you."

His thumb froze, inches from her forehead.

"Finish it."

He opened his eyes. She stared intently up at him. "I love you," she said again, sincere, and a ray of hope shone through the uproar in his mind. Maybe the spirit's words were half-truths after all. Why would a woman who loved him – a woman who had saved his life countless times since they had met – deliberately try to hurt him?

He couldn't do it.

His head and shoulders slumped. He let his raised hand fall harmlessly to the top of her head, gripping it with affection. "And I love you," he whispered.

She let out a long breath and he felt her neck muscles relax.

"Spirit," he said, "is it true that I carry a part of the Avatar's spirit?"

There was no response. Amon released Korra and turned to walk up to the sinewy black mass.

"Spirit."

"It is true."

His hands clasped behind his back and he stood tall, showing respect. "Then I thank you for your generosity, spirit. You have given me a new life not just once, but twice. In return, I have done much work to balance the world. My brothers and sisters, as we speak, are liberating the unjustly imprisoned, and I have set in motion a movement that will not rest until non-benders have a prominent place in society.

"At the root of my goal, there was always vengeance: I wanted to punish the Avatar for not doing enough to protect my family. I thought bending was a squandered gift, an impurity that needed to be cleansed so that non-benders could shine. To learn that I was using a part of the Avatar's gift myself, all this time, to chase my own selfish motives, and maybe yours as well..." He shook his head. "I cannot justify continuing on this path. I will not take her bending."

"Humans are so easily swayed," it said. "One confession of love, and you are corrupted as well."

"No. This has been an unfurling realization, one nurtured over time." Amon's hand rose to the buckle of his mask. "I thank you again for your gifts, but I am no longer your servant."

Wind began to batter his robes, and a brilliant white halo formed around the spirit. He took a step back, shielding his eyes, suddenly realizing that the spirit was not as reasonable as he had always believed.

Korra, run, he tried to say, but his mouth felt as if it were welded shut. He struggled against unseen forces to take another step back as the spirit swelled, engulfing his vision.

"Were we meeting between worlds, as we did when you were a child, then that choice might be yours to make. But the Avatar summoned me here, where I can punish your disobedience." The spirit loomed above him, glowing white. "Balance will be maintained."

An oily black hand pressed through the mask and into his forehead, and light engulfed his vision.

.*.*.*.

"Amon!" Korra stumbled toward him, her limbs still difficult to control after his chi-blocking. The spirit turned to her, its hand still pressed to Amon's forehead.

"You were supposed to be his saviour!" she yelled.

"And I will be. Let me show you what your spirit is good for, Avatar." The being flickered, then disappeared.

Amon turned to face her.

Behind his mask, his eyes glowed white. An orb of wind began to form around him.

"No," she whispered.

"The concept of the Avatar has failed," said Amon's voice as he took a step toward her. "Both in one part and in two. It is time for a new solution." Another pace.

She yelled his name, called for him to stop, but as he advanced, she realized that she was not going to be able to reach deep enough to pull him back.

"Leave him!" She brought her hands together in front of her chest as she focused her energy, calling flame to her limbs.

.*.*.*.

Trapped within his body, Amon watched himself close in on Korra.

"I can feel that this hurts you, little one," said the spirit. "I did not expect this softness when I chose you."

"Why me?"

"Your soul has held the attention of the spirits for generations. You have the tenacity, strategy and fervour of a leader. All you needed was a cause."

His hands, under the spirit's control, lifted a chunk of earth from the ground and launched it at her; she caught it and redirected it. It smashed against the wall, dust clouding around the impact.

The cave, still unstable after the initial earthquake, began to shudder.

"You're going to kill us both!"

"The balance must be maintained."

Cracks were spreading in the ceiling, and the first loose chunks of earth showered her, sparkling in the light of her flames. Any moment, it would start to collapse.

Memories flooded his mind's eye. He saw the flaming beam drop on his mother. The rocks about to drop on Korra during the earthquake, the one he had taken to his arm instead.

His father's dead, staring eyes – then Korra's, kind and vivid, as she tended to his wounds even though they were sworn enemies.

The spirit had always let him believe that benders were the source of all pain in the world, but where had the spirits been when his family was attacked?

All he had needed was a cause.

"You let the fire take my family," he realized. "You were watching me for generations, waiting for the tragedy that would give me the drive to commit to your cause. As soon as the fire was over, you snatched me away. You waited until my family died, right in front of you, so that you could use me on your crusade against benders. Against the Avatar."

The spirit launched an orb of wind at Korra, knocking her back.

"Answer me," demanded Amon.

"Yes," said the spirit.

And now his body was being used to destroy the one bender who loved him. Rage surged through him.

Korra's attacks pelted the air shield around his body. The shield was sound, but with each impact, he felt the reverberation all the way to his core: an opening in the spirit's power. A weakness.

Amon began to fight harder than he had ever fought for anything in his life, clawing for the surface.

.*.*.*.

Korra slung earth and flame at Amon, but as with all of her attacks, they bounced harmlessly off his air. The bastardized Avatar State that the spirit was using made him impervious to her attacks. Her only option was escape, but to what end? Now that she knew she could not be a fully-realized Avatar without defeating him, escape was less important. The spirit was too dangerous to leave alone.

Above her, the earth groaned again, and dust showered down on them. She gauged that it was only a matter of minutes until the whole ceiling came down and killed them both.

At the words, a flood of calmness overcame her panic. If they were both killed, then the two fractured parts of her spirit would become one. The Avatar would be reborn, and the cycle would begin anew.

She eyed the ceiling, looking for the best fracture point.

"Korra." Amon's advance halted and the white light in his eyes flickered. "I'm trying to...break..." The words trailed off. His hand began to reach for his mask, trembling as if under great strain.

"Fight it, Amon," she whispered, poised to strike the ceiling if he failed.

At first, it looked as if he might be able to tear off the mask, but then his arm fell back down to his side. She waited, holding her breath.

The white light flared to life again. He had lost.

Then it was up to her.

She thrust her fist in the air, lifting a boulder from the ground and slamming it into the ceiling. Cracks ran along the ceiling from the contact, and the whole cave began to shudder.

As she waited for the impact, an onslaught of faces barraged her mind: her parents, sad but brave as she left for the city. Katara, wise and patient. Tenzin and his family – her family, now. Asami's cocked brow. Mako's awkward smile, stifled by whatever unanswered tension had always been between them. Bolin, buffoonish and sweet, the first to notice when she was down and to celebrate when she was happy. Lin, stoic Lin, whose hard eyes and scars held stories of pain, stories that Korra would never hear.

Lastly, she saw Amon. The abrupt first confrontation, the one that had haunted her nightmares. The look of pain in his eyes when he took the blow for her in the cave. The tenderness in his arms the night she had collapsed from exhaustion, the first night she had realized she was starting to care for him. The images gained speed: his face in the dark, the rasp of his scarred face against hers, the fear in his eyes when he had first shown his face to her, and the terror right before Tarrlok squeezed the life from him. A single tear leaked down her cheek.

In the end, Amon, we both gave ourselves to protect what we believed in.

Her eyes closed as she waited to be reborn.

.*.*.*.

Around them, the cave began to collapse.

The air shield shuddered, and Amon could feel the spirit strain, all its energy focused on keeping the falling rocks at bay. The restraint on him lessened. He battled forward, swelled, grew...

...fell back into his body. He struggled for a moment to keep the air shield up and keep the spirit at bay at the same time, then began to run.

"Korra!" he yelled.

He could feel the spirit scrabbling at his soul, fighting to regain control.

.*.*.*.

Amon was yelling – she couldn't distinguish the words over the quaking stone. Korra's eyes flew open in time to see him diving for her, the light in his eyes flickering. He landed hard on his back beside her and thrust upwards with his palms. A protective orb of air surrounded them. He grunted with effort as tumbling rocks began to pelt at the shield.

"The mask." His teeth were bared, his words choppy. "The mask. Take it..."

She leaned over, her hands shaking so badly that she could barely find the buckle. Soil streamed over the shield like water, and it began to compress around them, giving beneath the strain.

His eyes were still flickering white. "Korra!"

Buckle be damned. She jerked it off his head, snapping the strap.

"Throw it!" His eyes screwed shut, his face crimson and slick. "The shield...the shield will fall..."

"I'll take it from there," she promised, tossing the mask into the chaos. She fell onto her back beside him and began to earthbend through the shield, deflecting the heavier chunks of rock away before they could compound the stress on the barrier. Sweat ran down her face and neck.

She could see the mask on the ground, barely a foot outside the shield. A boulder was falling toward it, and she readied herself.

The contact was audible even over the shuddering earth. Shards of porcelain flew into the air, hovering among the clouds of dust like snow against a storm.

Amon yelled and doubled over, gripping his head. The air shield began to dissipate.

Energy rushed into Korra, travelled through her veins, flooding her body before the porcelain shards had even hit the ground. She felt the strength of thousands of Avatars in her muscles as she thrust her arms from her body and howled.

The cave exploded from them, and her mind went white.

.*.*.*.

Hands gripped her wrists. She blinked against the silver light in her vision, voices circling in her head.

"...It's all okay now. We're safe, Korra..."

Her eyes squeezed shut. When she opened them again, Amon was gripping her shoulders, his face worried.

Her jaw quivered as she slumped against him, exhausted. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. You let me talk you down." His arms slid around her, protective, and he buried his face in the top of her head. "But I don't think the mountain will ever be the same."

She closed her eyes, nuzzling into his chest.

After a moment, he planted a soft kiss onto her head and stepped away, searching the ground. She did a slow turnaround. They stood in the centre of a dusty plateau, shards of rock and rubble scattered across it. What was formerly the cave was now open ground, all the way back to the pool. Boulders and rubble trailed down the mountain, scattered as if they were pebbles cast by a child, and she hoped that the damage was minimal.

Several feet in front of her, Amon stopped and knelt. Pacing toward him, she saw that he was touching the remnants of his mask. It was plain white once again, the markings gone. Half of it was completely shattered, the shards scattered in a halo. The other half was badly damaged. He picked up the damaged half and his thumb slid against the porcelain.

"I'm sorry," she said as she stood behind him.

"Everything I have known..." His voice trailed off.

Slowly, he began to scoop a hole in the earth. She watched for a moment before she realized that he was digging a small grave. She knelt beside him, wordless, and began to help. It would have been faster to use earthbending, but it didn't feel appropriate, given what the mask represented. Their hands worked easily around one another, dancing in rhythm. Once the hole was deep enough, he slid the shards into the hole, but set the intact half aside before he buried them. They knelt side-by-side, looking at the packed earth. Her hand slid onto his shoulder and squeezed; he covered it with his own.

After a long moment, he spoke: "The spirit will try to find you again. It was waiting for generations for the perfect opportunity."

"I will try to set things right before it can." Her thumb skated across his. "I know the balance is off, but I still believe that we can fix it. Tarrlok was a good start."

"You equalized him?"

"I prefer the term energybending." With a smirk, she added, "I went into the Avatar State when you died. Charged him down. Probably scared the life right out of him."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Good."

She tugged his hand, guiding him to stand, and led him to a stone ledge overlooking the city. They sat, side-by-side. From here, it looked as if the docks were quiet, a few police boats patrolling the harbour. An Equalist ship was hovering over the police station in the distance, and she turned to him, a brow raised. "Know anything about that?"

"Freeing the wrongly imprisoned. Not an invasion." His voice dropped to a low rumble. "Yet."

"Yet." She shook her head. "Are we always going to be at war with one another, Amon?"

"My part in this war has ended." He leaned forward, staring absently across the city. "Let them believe that I am dead. Take the remaining half of the mask back to the city with you."

She swallowed hard. "I hoped you might decide to come back with me."

"I must disappear." His hand found hers. "Our secret is out, Korra. The rumours will spread like flames if I return, consuming both of our reputations. All eyes would be on us all the time, waiting for us to slip up and get caught again. Both of our causes would be drowned beneath a sea of celebrity. But my death is the far more interesting story, one that will hold the spotlight." He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed a knuckle. "Besides, my gifts are gone. I am more valuable to the Equalist cause as a legend than I am as..." He trailed off.

"As an ex-bender," she finished, the irony not lost on her.

It must not have been lost on him, either, for there was a long pause. They stared down at the city together. A gentle breeze ruffled her hair, like a caress, and she leaned into him. His arm draped around her.

"What will you do now?" she asked.

"I don't know. I need time to..." He hesitated, searching for the words. "To determine which thoughts are actually my own. To figure out truth from lie. I suppose I will have to leave the city if I am to stay dead. Even without my mask, nearly every citizen knows my voice."

"And I need to stay here," she said. "Balance starts with Republic City."

"It's getting late," he said. The sun was already low in the horizon. He turned to her, and his voice was suddenly raw. "I'm going to miss you, Korra."

Don't leave me, she wanted to say, but she knew that wasn't possible. She forced a smile, trying to be brave. "I know you said we would have an unhappy ending, Amon, but I think we did all right."

He stood and pulled her to her feet. His palms pressed to either of her cheeks, pulling her in. A gentle, chaste kiss. She felt a hot tear roll off of his cheek and onto hers.

Then he pulled back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again and swallowed hard. She understood. Her throat was too tight to speak as well.

Then he turned and walked away.

Korra turned back to the city and set her jaw, willing herself not to watch him leave.

So long as she didn't see him leave, it wasn't real.

.*.*.*.

Retracing her earlier path of destruction led her back to the docks shortly before sunset. The dock was nearly deserted, save for a sky bison and five figures. Around them, the dock was splintered and broken, but the people themselves seemed uninjured.

Asami was the first to stand, noticing Korra's approach. The others stood as well, their faces grim.

Korra sank to her knees before them, head bowed, and dropped the shattered half of the mask in front of her. The red light of the sunset streaked across it, casting a long, disfigured shadow.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

To her surprise, it was Tenzin who approached her and held out a hand to help her up. The tears she had been bravely holding at bay began to flow, and she fell into his chest. His arms wrapped protectively around her.

"It's okay, Korra," he said. "It's all over."

.*.*.*.

Concluded in the Epilogue...