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An avatar was one and many. Many and one. Each one a different person, and yet some things stayed. A favorite toy. A voice, once heard lifetimes ago. A familiarity which couldn't be washed away by the relentless tides of time.
Korra had been watching the ancient fire soldier armor on display for what must have been the better part of half an hour. She had never seen one like this before, it must be centuries old, and yet she couldn't shake the feeling she knew exactly how the heavy fabric would feel under her fingers. It felt… Somehow familiar. She knew the clasps at the side of the chest piece would cut painfully into careless fingers, although she couldn't see them from this angle. Could remember the motion of untying the padded tunics cords. The white underneath.
At first she thought one of her previous lives must have worn one like that. But... She didn't remember it as if she was wearing it. She remembered it, as if she was fiddling with the clasps on someone else. Clumsy at first, sure later. Laughter filling her ears and a trail of blazing kisses along her jaw.
It made her want to cry.
Or maybe she just remembered the tears - that felt like they would never end - in very vivid detail.
It was a curious feeling to say the least.
She glanced to the side. Left. Then right.
She was alone in this half forgotten side corridor of the labyrinth that was the fire lord’s palace. And so she stepped forward, fingertips trailing over the edge of a high collar - carefully. She nearly expected to touch soft skin, to feel the sure and steady pulse underneath, the tickle of jet black, silky hair. Her hand slid lower, over the metal of the chest piece. It was cool and polished to perfection now but in the memory burning in her mind it felt like it had been lying in the morning sun - not scorchingly hot but warm. She trailed over its side, lifting the other arm to complete the embrace, her cheek on the uncomfortable shoulder pad - spiky, layered and hard. It felt fragile, worn out. Centuries had withered away any smell that might have clung to it and left only the suffocating dryness of dust. But when she closed her eyes, she could have sworn she could still catch the echo of a lingering scent. Hot stones, polishing, and something too unique to describe. Her heart clenched in her chest. She remembered the arms that should have come up to encircle her waist, the wild grin on soft lips, the wisps of raven wing dark hair, disheveled by the mischievous wind.
She burrowed her face between the shoulder piece and the colar, the fragile metal groaning quietly under the pressure of her desperate grasp. In her memories, bronze eyes twinkled at her with warmth and fire and mirth. Like a promise. Like a hope. Like their owner would die for her. She saw the same kind of look every day. Different, in different eyes, and yet the same. The look of someone desperately in love.
Whoever was in charge of the artifacts would have her head for the tears that were streaming down the priceless piece of history but she didn't care. To them it was nothing more than a display of long gone times, to her it was a reminder of something that was once her whole heart. Back when it was beating in someone else's chest. When she was not Korra at all. And now it was gone. Had been gone for centuries, for entire lives, and yet she could not stop the bitter sobs. The anguish burned worse than a lightning ever could. It rippled through time, through thousand hearts, from the beginning to the end, like a stone cast into a pond.
Once someone else wore that armor. A girl with the heart of a blazing star.
She loved her so much. So much, that when she was gone, so was she. Her body might have moved still, her breath might have coiled in the cold morning air, but in her chest there was nothing but a hollow where a white flame once gently licked away the sorrows. She never knew coldness until that day. It had never left her since.
But now this was gone too, wasn’t it?
The next Avatar would look at this armor and feel nothing. Would be free of the pain of loss. Of the memories of someone she loved so dearly, so desperately, so overwhelmingly life times ago. Free of all those she loved over all her lifes. Free of all the grief, all the mistakes, all the joys and all the triumphs. Free of all the countless familiarities. Because, at last, she had buried them all for good. All that, which never should have been lost, should have lasted through all eternity, had crumbled to dust in her hands. Since she was a little girl she had dreamed to be the best of them but all she had done was to put an end to an endless story.
The last Avatar.
“And the first. Again."
The armor rattled in her arms as she startled. She had been so sure she was alone but there it was. A voice right behind her. Old and scratchy and settled somewhere between annoyance and amusement. Fitting, she thought, considering how whoever it was had a front row seat to the great Avatar struggling to wipe away her tears and not let the relic, she so thoroughly jostled, fall at the same time.
“What?”, she croaked, hazarding a glance over her shoulder. A woman stood in the dim hallway, white haired but not bowed by age. There was something about her posture, about her rich but functional clothes, about how she held the arms behind her back, that inevitably reminded one of a soldier.
This was familiar too.
Korra might have wondered about why this might be but the woman smiled right then and there, wide and unguarded, a fire lighting up her bronce eyes and there was nothing left to wonder. A shiver ran up Korra’s arm like electricity. She knew those eyes. Knew the fierceness and the mirth in them. Had known them centuries ago. Knew them now, wide eyed and open mouthed.
“I said the Last. But also the First.”, her heavy boots didn’t make a sound as she stepped forward: “Nothing is eternal, no matter how hard you try. Things have to start anew. Somewhere. But that doesn’t mean the things gone are lost.” Her hands felt warm - nearly unnaturally so - on Korra's cheeks, gentle and calloused. It didn’t even occur to her to flinch away. “Nothing ever truly is”, the woman's eyes sparkled as she leant in. Fierce and bright and burning with something, that made Korra's chest constrict. “In fact, as far as I am concerned, you finally returned something to me after a long, long wait.” She turned her head and Korra’s gaze followed without a thought.
Down the corridor was another woman. Young, no older than her mid twenties, with long brown hair and freckles strewn all over her face. She had the stature of a great warrior but in her modest dress and with her shyly bowed head, she seemed just a girl. A girl who struggled badly to hide her smile. A smile that broke as Korra’s gaze finally met hers. Beaming and unselfconscious. Free. Of loss. And pain. And striking white face paint.
“Take care, love. You truly are a force that could eclipse them all.” The old woman whispered into her ear, leaning closer to her and brushing a gentle kiss along her jawline before she turned away, leaving Korra to gape at her back, a hand over the just kissed spot.
Familiar.
Familiar. Familiar. Familiar.
All of it. The touch of the soft lips. The crossed hands. The blazing eyes. The way the woman tried to walk down the corridor calmly but the building tension in her back and the traitorous spring in her steps clearly betrayed how much she struggled to not break into a run. A war that lasted all of ten steps before she let go. Wild and blazing like a shooting star, beckoned by the gentle laughter of her companion, waiting at the end of the hallway with open arms. Every long stride licked away at the signs of time. Black creeping up the tips of the white hair, trailing behind like a banner, every step faster and faster. She did not stop, didn’t even make any attempt at slowing down, just slammed into the tall woman at full speed, burrowing her face in her neck and throwing her arms around her in what looked like a bone crushing hug. It was impressive that she didn’t throw her over but then again, Korra thought, being immovable was Kyoshi's entire claim to fame and there was not a shadow of a doubt in her mind, that the young woman mouthing a “thank you” over her lover's head was her. The immortal legend. A past life. An old friend.
Korra smiled at them, letting her hand fall off her cheek and the warmth to fill out her chest. Maybe, some things should end. Some duties should be laid to rest. Some people be finally allowed home.
Kyoshi waves at her when they go but it is the fire in the bronze eyes Korra remembers most vividly afterwards. The next avatar might be free of all her past lives but she is not and so she gently kisses the chestpiece of the ancient armor goodbye for the last time and secludes the overwhelming longing and bone deep pain of loss - only slightly dulled by the knowledge that their separation had an end at last - in the farthest corner of her heart.
Some echos never fully silence. Some memories never truly fade.
Like those of her glowing girl.
Rangi.