Chapter Text
Korra meandered in the shifting sands, the hallucinogens of the cactus juice offering no comforting visions or euphoric high like it did for Sokka. Instead, she heard voices. She cursed herself for running out of water, and cursed her survival instincts that kept her walking to the next town. She kept a note of who she heard:
A woman speaking fiercely in a tongue she did not know but a tone that reminded her of Lin.
A girl—or was it a boy?—muttering about Missions and Grails, fantasy objects.
A man, in the same tongue as the woman, whimpering yet resolute.
Finally, there was the girl that sounded the same age as her deliriously muttering a sordid tale.
Oftentimes she’d hear a far-off melody, a sweet piano piece before the voices would speak. It was eerie but better than The One With The Chain.
Her attacker. Her stalker.
Her reflection.
Today she heard a different tune. She waited for an imagined voice—or was it—to fill the silence swallowed by the sand. Instead she saw a girl.
Well, it could have been a girl. Her lurid pink hair and overlarge eyes indicated she could have been a spirit. She was curled in a loose foetal position, sighing and struggling in pain. A closer look at her showed why.
Twin wounds on her front and back globbed blood onto the desert from. Stab wounds, likely from the same weapon going clean through. They reminded her of the time one of the White Lotus Guards went fishing with her and got a spear through his arm. But she couldn’t see the weapon that hurt the girl in front of her at all. There was nothing but sand.
What was going on? Were there bandits out? Had the girl been mugged? Korra took out her last trickle of water to heal the girl. She looked no older than Jinora. Too young to die.
“N-no. Y-you don’t n-need to do that.” She spoke. Her voice was weak and stuttering. “I-I’m fine.”
And Korra though she was lying when she said those words. She wanted to argue, but she knew it was too late. If only she had been a proper Avatar. Then this mess wouldn’t have happened and this girl would have a future beyond the few minutes it takes her to pass on!
The girl looked up at her. Her blue eyes looked like no one she had ever seen before’s, no one human at least. The likelihood of her being a spirit continued to rise.
“S-Stay with me?” There was only one answer to that.
Korra sat down, offering her lap to the dying spirit-girl. Perhaps she had been possessed, then attacked. The entry wound was in her back, her attacker fought dirty.
“What’s your name?”
”Utena”, she said, barely audible. A Fire Nation name. Names like hers were rare around here. Skin as pale as hers was also rare, the suns kiss showed on everyone, even slightly.
“It’s Utena”, she repeated, stronger now. “Avatar Korra.”
How did she even know who she was? Korra had hidden who she was for weeks, maybe months. No one recognised her without the hair or the blue clothing. Some had gotten close but none hit the mark before she shut them down.
She tried to hide her shock from the dyin—no Utena’s—eyes. She let out a few shallow breaths before trying to speak again.
”Korra, you are as much of a failure as I am. I cannot be a prince. But I am still myself”
Considering the only prince here was Prince Wu, that really wasn’t something to look up to. She didn’t make any sense. She gasped for air a few times.
“Korra?”
“Yes?” By the time she responded Utena was dead. Korra slid her fingers over the girl’s eyes, closing them. She earthbent a grave and marker as the sun set behind her, placing the gangly body in it. The work made her weary and by the time she had done it was nightfall.
She set up camp and fell asleep.
In the morning, the grave was gone and the girl’s words circled in Korra’s mind.
Failure.
Failure.
Failure.