The void-like feeling of no longer being part of the Fire Ferrets was such that Korra found herself not as rocked by other events. The violent massacre of a whole noble family was shocking, but not that shocking. The rush of the final game became a muted memory. Even the sting of losing was more of a dull ache compared to the fact that she was no longer a pro-bender.

  It was a foreign, unnerving hollowness. Korra had enjoyed being a participant of a sport she was a great fan of, she could admit that she liked the attention she got from her fans, and she loved being part of a team.

  Maybe it’s because she finally made friends (and a boyfriend) around her age. Proper friends, not the kids that were latching onto her only because their parents told them to, or the flea leeches that put on fake smiles and nodded their heads just so they could get the Avatar’s authority to take things undeservedly.

  Maybe she finally felt like she was doing something tangible, something beyond training and sparring. Proving to Tenzin, and Altaq and the others back home, that she could be more and do more beyond the walls and supervision.

  It was probably a mix of the two, and regardless, she was still getting used to the fact that she no longer had to go to Bolin and Mako’s gym for training or discussing tactics. No more listening to helpful Hanh confirming things over the telephone or briefing her on what to expect in upcoming interviews or promotional event. Because there weren’t any of those either.

  Mako had decided that the Fire Ferrets had a good run, enough so that he didn’t mind skipping another attempt next year at least, as dear Bolin had decided that he’d be helping Korra in her journey to grow as an Avatar. Korra quietly hoped that the latter brother would successfully convince the former to join them once they inevitably left Republic City to see the world, if only so that she could enjoy the familiar camaraderie again.

  For the time being though, Mako and Bolin were busy dealing with the dregs of their contract with Future Media. Supposedly there was some promotional stuff like launching a new line of Satomobiles, and quite a bit of interviews for a documentary about their lives. Supposedly, there was even a radio play in the works, though it was still being drafted.

  But Korra wasn’t back at Future Media’s building about plays or promotionals today.

  She noticed the increased security around the building’s perimeter, as well as the apprehensive air that hung in the air. Some of it was directed her way, which was curious.

  Hopefully Xing wasn’t spreading stupid stories…

  “Good afternoon, Korra.”

  Korra turned away from the polite but nervous smile of the receptionist, and greeted Xing with a lazy wave. “Afternoon, Xing.”

  He silently studied her for a couple of seconds - the old half-glare he did whenever he was deciding whether to sigh or shake his head. “I’m assuming you’re not here for business?”

  “Not exactly.”

  It was a sigh this time, soft but obvious enough. “We’ll talk in my office.”

  The walk and elevator ride up was smothered in awkward silence. The barbs Korra had half-expected did not materialize so there was nothing to react to, and neither was she prepared to deal with idle chit chat with Xing of all people. It was only when the elevator dinged and opened up at the twelfth floor that he finally spoke.

  “You’re resuming your airbending training in full?”

  “Uh, yeah. Sorta. Tenzin’s busy with the council, but Jinora and Ikki are helping me. Bolin too.”

  Xing gave a distracted nod. “Is Bolin taking the ferry over every day, or is he staying over on the island?”

  “The ferry,” Korra replied without missing a beat. “Tenzin’s insistent on that, though Pema was fine with providing a room for him.”

  Another nod. “Makes sense, Master Tenzin doesn’t want to risk further distractions.”

  “Distractions?”

  Xing stopped at the pair of plain but sturdy doors of his office, and offered her a rather uncharacteristic smirk. “You and Bolin kissed yet?”

  “Wuh- What?”

  As she continued to sputter, her former minder sharpened his smirk as he opened the door and ushered her in.

  “Distractions.”

  By the time Korra regained her composure, she was sitting across a Xing, with a curtain of steam rising from the bowl of tea in front of her.

  “So, what brings you here, Korra?”

  Quickly seizing on the more relevant topic, she pushed away her embarrassment and took up a frown instead. “The massacre the other night.” She made sure that her tone was neutral, absent of any judgement.

  As expected, Xing was completely unphased by it, not even twitching as he nodded. “The police are currently investigating the matter.”

  “And…?”

  He tilted his head to one side. “And what?”

  Korra fought the urge to roll her eyes as she leaned forwards a little. “And what do you make of the whole thing?”

  He gave her that appraising look again before slowly and carefully offering his response. “It’s not something for me to be involved in.”

  Korra registered the tone he used, and her eyebrows slowly went up. “What do you know?”

  Exasperation began to creep in through the silence that followed, but Xing eventually answered. The words left his mouth slowly, carefully. “Do you remember the pervert who tried sneaking into your room?”

  Korra repressed a shudder. “It was hard not to. Damned creep…”

  “Remember the nights before he was caught?”

  Nostalgia seeped in as she recalled that eventful week staying with her family. “Sure. The footprints in the snow, siccing Naga…” The perpetrator’s creepiness aside, it was rather fun and exciting to hunt the guy down.

  “And the false leads,” Xing added, ruining the moment as it forced Korra to remember the two mistaken attempts at identifying the burglar. Naga’s nose was fooled thanks to the pervert wearing the stolen shoes and clothes of his last subject of attention, and admittedly, Korra had been too quick to reach a conclusion in blaming a neighbour for trying to orchestrate a complex social sabotage.

  In the end, it had been a lonely, ‘unsound’ hunter who had been slipping into and stealing souvenirs from girls’ rooms. After that incident, Xing always set up camp outside Korra’s family’s house, and nobody questioned him about burying harpoon heads under the snow anymore.

  It was a rare moment indeed to see him radiating quiet but blatant smugness as Altaq and the other masters apologized and publicly took back their admonishment.

  Returning to the present, the fond thoughts of that adventure - however short it was - melted away. “So you think someone’s hiding their tracks?” she asked in a half-whisper.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Xing shrugged again. “I’m still at the stage where I don’t know why your family’s igloo walls was getting stabbed.”

  It was because the burglar used pitons to climb the ice-smooth walls to get up to the second floor. Until they found the tools, everyone was looking for ladders, or assumed the pervert was a waterbender.

  Korra frowned. “What did you find?”

  “It’s too soon to tell,” he answered, fully serious.

  “Urgh, you and your secrets… Why can’t you tell me?”

  “Because then you’d be tempted to act on it.”

  Korra leaned back into her seat and folded her arms with a huff and a mild glare. “I’m not a girl anymore, Xing. I know how to hold onto a secret.”

  He raised an eyebrow at that. “And what if the current list of suspects includes Master Tenzin?”

  Korra blinked, and then became aware that her jaw had dropped. “What?”

  “If I said that there might be something that could tie the whole massacre to airbenders like Master Tenzin, or his children,” Xing elaborated in a monotone. “Could you keep that a secret, or would you be tempted to intervene?”

  “Oh…” She slumped with earnest relief at realizing that it was all just hypothetical. But now that she experienced that moment… “I…I’d keep that secret,” she answered with some conviction.

  Not enough, judging from the look Xing was giving her.

  “But come on, you don’t expect me not to do anything!”

  “Hence my decision.”

  “But I’m the Avatar-”

  “Not an investigator.”

  “As if you’re one yourself,” Korra sniped back.

  “No,” he instantly cut in, “I’m worse than that.”

  The admission stunned her. “Huh?” And then Xing clarified.

  “I worry about the shadows, wonder about strangers’ intentions before they try to kidnap you, and track down perverted burglars.”

  A disgruntled huff left her throat. “Well, if you put it that way.”

  The stern look on Xing’s face receded, and he sighed. “We’re not in Wolf Cove anymore. This is a city that’s tangled with hidden agendas and conflicting interests. You should know that by now, Korra.”

  “Well…I do.”

  “And this is a city that enforces its laws instead of bending it for the Avatar. Remember your run in with Chief Lin.”

  Korra sank into her seat. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You don’t need my help.”

  “Not yet,” he amended, to her surprise. “Look, a large family was killed, their servants included. The corpses were mutilated, and only one suspect was found, dead, with a weapon that matches the wounds on the bodies.“

  “Yeah, I’ve read the news, Xing.”

  “So, where would you start looking?”

  This felt like arguing over the creep again, which didn’t bode well, because that debate resulted in Korra embarrassing herself. So she took a few moments to ponder the question carefully before responding.

  “Well…I’d start by trying to figure out where the other psychopaths ran off to. Or look for places they might have hidden or dumped their weapons… What?” Old, familiar annoyance gnawed at her as she saw the look he was giving her.

  “How do you know there were multiple psychopaths?”

  Korra scoffed. “Well, the reports said that there were a lot of tracks, and there were sightings of groups of people. And besides, one guy can’t simply kill that many people with a chopper, especially if he ended up getting killed himself.”

  “And how can you be sure?”

  “Sure about what?”

  “That all of that is true?”

  Korra opened her mouth, and then closed it, and then tried again, but Xing interrupted her.

  “I’m not saying this to insult you, Korra, but this is something that’s over your head.”

  “Oh sure, you’re not trying to insult me…”

  “I mean it, Korra,” he added with a strangely emphatic look as he rose from his seat in a gesture of finality. “Just because you’re the Avatar, doesn’t mean you have to be good at everything.”

  Taking the hint, Korra rose as well, though she didn’t bother to hide her discontent. “You know I don’t need your permission to look into this if I want to, right?”

  “That’s true,” he replied, nodding as he opened the door. “I appreciate you coming here to talk nonetheless.”

  It was only as she left the building, stewing in annoyance, that Korra realized that throughout the whole meeting, Xing had only offered her vague hints, and hadn’t provided any solid clue, not even a peek of one, to work with.

  “Typical…”

  Scowling and fighting down the urge to go back to his office and shake the answers out of him, Avatar Korra left Future Media behind her as she figured out where exactly to start.

  Dammit, she should’ve just asked him about the Equalist connections straight to his face!

  Hm, what was it Xing had said? Being sure that the reports were true?

  Would she have to sneak into the police’s evidence room or something?

  *****

  Despite his suspicions, Amon did not have the means of verifying it, nor was he even sure about the merits of acting on it. Not without risking an opportunity that had just revealed itself.

  A City Hall insider brought news of Tarrlok trying to push for stricter laws that targeted non-benders. Curfews, checkpoints, random searches, precautionary incarceration. Laws that would oppress an obvious portion of the masses. Laws that might have been highly effective in forcing the Equalists deeper into the shadows or out of the city altogether, branding its followers with an invisible stigma, if not for the secret militarisation provided by Hiroshi Sato and other sympathetic tycoons.

  Now, such blatant tyranny would only serve as an excellent boost for recruitment and public support. It would be all too easy to turn the Equalist movement into a source of hope among the desperate and repressed. Being an Equalist would not be a brand of shame, but a badge of pride.

  Only Tenzin’s dissent was holding it back. The vote to pass such extreme measures needed to be unanimous, but Amon had a feeling that Tarrlok would eventually get his way, probably by stoatweaseling his way through the legal terms.

  So Amon had been conflicted.

  Should he continue finding the true perpetrator of the Itiro Massacre - a perpetrator that was surely linked to Tarrlok in some way - and clear his organization’s name now, shaming the ruling council and using the scandal that followed as a distraction to leverage more influence among the shady foundations of Republic City? Gain more sympathizers among the city’s mostly neutral elite, sow doubt among the citizens, and weaken the city’s authorities to allow for an eventual but swift takeover.

  Or should he simply sit back, and let his enemies make their mistake, and then let the Equalists march through the smoke and fire and blood to seize the city? Thanks to Hiroshi’s hardware, Amon was prepared to take his shadow war out into the light. There would be significant collateral, but he was certain of victory.

  Both options had their merits, and Amon’s advisors had also been divided over which course to take.

  It was amidst the heated debate that inspiration struck.

  “If we do not clear our names now, we would be seen as bloodthirsty butchers, barely a better option compared to the authorities!” one impassioned lieutenant had said. “Our cause cannot be tainted by such an association, not when we need to wield our reputation on the international stage!”

  Tainted reputation…

  “We can always clear our names afterwards,” someone else countered.

  “Do you think they would believe that, or would they say that we conveniently discovered the truth?”

  “The truth isn’t important, all that matters is that we force the other powers to acknowledge us and accept the new order of things. I say let Tarrlok’s plan pass! We’ll spread news of the atrocities that would surely ensue, sow discontent among the people of the other kingdoms. When we rise up and take over the city, it would strike a spark that would draw the attention of the oppressed and the discontented to us, and we will easily expand the cause beyond the borders of the United Republic.”

  Drawing…attention…?

  “You’re being idealistic.”

  “You’re the one worried about the taint to the cause!”

  “Enough,” Amon had finally said, and silence filled the warehouse’s office. The masked leader regarded his assembled lieutenants. “We are in agreement that both options have their merits and drawbacks, to a point that they seem to balance each other out in a stalemate. But…”

  He paused, making sure he had everyone’s full attention. “But perhaps we have been so focused on benefits and downsides that we did not consider if there might be a different approach.”

  “Different, sir?”

  Amon slowly steepled his fingers for effect. “What if we take elements from both options and…work it into something more manageable?”

  The silence that followed signified that nobody had found any blatant flaws in the idea.

  “We can find a way to clear our name, but at the same time give the people of Republic City a reason to support us when the time comes?”

  “That…would be ideal… But how would we achieve that?”

  Amon smiled beneath his mask. “First, we need to find the people responsible for the Itiro Massacre…and make sure that they are not, in fact, related to the councillors of Republic City.”

  Later in the evening, the Equalist leader took the big risk of waiting in the only quiet alley that lay in the path of Tarrlok’s journey home. A strobe from a flashlight signalled the councilman’s car approaching, and a truck was positioned to block the road.

  Barely a minute later, and the blue luxury car slowed to a stop just feet away from the obstructing vehicle. Another truck then shot out from its parked position to block any attempt at reversing. Four elite Equalist fighters swooped in before the councilman’s driver knew what was happening, yanking the man out from the wheel and putting a sack over his head before dragging him off.

  More fighters swarmed out and checked the passengers’ compartment, and after determining that they had what they came for, Amon absently adjusted his mask before calmly walking over to the stranded car.

  With his features bathed in the blue-white of sparking shock batons pointed his way, Tarrlok was still seated in the back of the car, his jaws tight and his eyes defiant with impotent rage.

  “The metalbending police will be coming any moment now.”

  “That they will,” Amon replied, waving his fighters back as he slipped into the car to sit across his captive. “It’s a pity we don’t have the time.”

  “What do you want? You think stealing my bending will do anything?”

  “Oh, I’m not here to steal your bending, councilman,” Amon smoothly replied, and his hands went up to his mask. “I’m here to offer you a deal, and maybe catch up with you…”

  The mask lowered, and he finished his sentence in a whisper that completely replaced Tarrlok’s rage with surprise.

  “...brother.”