strength comes from an indomitable will

It's been almost two months without answers. Two months spent in a strange city, a city without bending, a city completely cut off from the spirits. A city where there are a handful of people who knew her, who loved her in a past life, and who had her vanish without warning.

Korra's learned over the past several years that it's usually worth searching for meaning in every experience. Even if not preordained, there are lessons to be learned from encounters, there's strength to be drawn from challenges. But Darrow is a city that stumps her. She's learned to stumble around, clumsy with its technology and lingo, distracted enough by the sharp learning curve that she's left a little bit of her original mission behind.

It gnaws at her, that soft and constant guilt, for abandoning her post as the Avatar. She tries to assuage that guilt by telling herself that if there were a reliable way to get back home, she would take it in a heartbeat. And that it's not like she hasn't been looking. It's not like she hasn't been trying. She's taken to the highest skies, swam and waterbended to the furthest reaches of the ocean. Dug tunnels underground until people yelled at her for endangering the city infrastructure.

Nothing's worked.

And so, while Korra hasn't exactly been the most thoughtful about self-care, she tries her hand at it now. Going to the gym has always been a comfort to her. Even without using her bending, the act of stretching her body to its physical limit has always been calming and reaffirming. Even if she were a non-bender, Korra's sure that she would still be able to make something of her two hands. The facilities are pretty impressive at this particular gym, with spaces made for parkour, and pretty hardy structures for practicing her punches.

She's at one of these bags now, throwing heavy, swinging kicks to the top of the punching stand. It's weighted heavily at the bottom to prevent falling over, but Korra does a pretty good job of hitting it near its limit. She grins when she finally manages to topple it, snickering to herself as she reaches down to set it back upright.

thought without learning is perilous

With an abundance of spare time on her hands, Korra finds herself venturing out to the countryside frequently these days. It's a little less crowded there, a little less hectic — years ago, she might have even called it boring, but these days it's hard to concentrate with conversations and noises constantly thrumming around her ears. The speed and density of people in the city becomes overwhelming after a while, and Korra finds herself rushing to the trees just to breathe.

It's hard to determine what progress means when there's nothing physical to fight. Even when Korra finds herself skating along the water, or punching holes into the earth, somehow she always finds herself turned back towards the center of the city. It reminds her of all the stories of the Fog of Lost Souls, a place in the Spirit World that she's never been to personally, but that she knows has claimed many individuals for all of eternity.

The prospect feels suffocating, sometimes.

Today, she listens to the wind as she sits, nestled among roots and branches in the forest. With her eyes closed, Korra tries to smooth out the fears she feels coursing through her veins. She recalls the visions she's been having of herself — a darker, more violent Korra, uncontrolled by morals and hellbent on destroying anything weak in her path (even if that means Korra herself). What's been causing them?

She's not real. There's no way that's me. It's got to be in my head, but I don't understand why I'm seeing it.

A rustle from the side causes Korra to open her eyes, startled as she gets to her feet. Though the trees in the distance are still and unmoving, those in her immediate vicinity are swirling.

"Hello? Who's there?" she asks, trying to focus her senses. It doesn't feel like a normal wind so much as a burst of energy. Spiritual energy, even.