Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first ray of morning sunlight brushed across the rooftops of the Avatar Academy's towers, slipping silently through a gap in the curtains and into a room still immersed in dreams. Before long, the grand bell would ring through the dawn, echoing across the ancient halls and waking each room one by one.

In the top-floor dormitory, Asami sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She stretched, then spent another two minutes just staring at the ceiling. She tried to remember if she'd dreamed anything the night before, but her mind was blank. It wasn't the dreams she cared about—only the worry that she might have missed some message from the Otherworld. But, just like every other morning, nothing had come. With a small sigh, she tossed off her blanket and hopped out of bed.

She headed to the washroom. The mirror reflected a young face shadowed with frustration. In three months, she would turn twelve—yet she still hadn't awakened her summoner's ability. She had entered the Avatar Academy at eight and already completed almost all the summoner theory courses. What she needed now was real practice.

Summoning, however, was a gift only a rare few ever awakened. Usually, only children of royal or noble blood had a chance—or perhaps it was simply that those ancestors long ago had possessed the power first, and that was how they became nobles at all. Even then, only about a third of them ever became one of the chosen. Asami's father was just an ordinary noble. There was nothing wrong with that, of course—but she still couldn't help the envy that gnawed at her whenever she thought about summoners.

The Avatar Academy existed for nobles like her. Almost every child of a noble or royal family studied here. Those who awakened as summoners stayed until they were sixteen. Those who didn't usually left after finishing the basic curriculum—though no one ever forced them out. If they wished, they could remain and work at the Academy.

After washing up, Asami put on her uniform and stepped out of her dorm room. She headed down the spiral staircase, and at the landing nearly bumped into Opal, who had just stepped out of hers.

"Hey! Asami!" Opal waved at her.

"Morning, Opal." Asami replied. The two walked side by side, their light footsteps tapping a lively tack-tack-tack rhythm along the stone steps.

"Guess what?" Opal burst out, excitement practically radiating from her pores. "I heard a voice from the other world—just last night!"

"Really?" Asami's eyes widened. "What did you hear?"

"Wingbeats and birdsong," Opal said. "And—I saw sky. Like, real sky."

"Let me guess, your summon is going to be a falcon. That's pretty cool."

"Maybe. I can't wait to meet it." Opal's eyes sparkled.

"So, when's the summoning ritual?" Asami asked.

"I'm going to tell Master Tenzin as soon as I see him," Opal said. "He could probably schedule the ritual for tomorrow night."

"That's wonderful." Asami was genuinely happy for her—though her own anxiety tightened just a little. They said most summoners awakened before the age of twelve, and that at some moment they would feel the call of the summon destined to be theirs alone. After that, all they needed was the ritual to open the gate to the other world and complete the summoning. A summoner could only perform the ritual once in their lifetime.

The girls walked into the meditation room. Tenzin was already seated on a round cushion, waiting for the students to arrive. His daughter, Jinora, a new student this year, was quietly sitting with him. A massive beast lay crouched at Tenzin's side—his summoned griffin. Its body was draped in tawny fur, and its eagle-sharp eyes studied each person who stepped into the meditation room.

When Iroh walked in, his face was bright with morning light, a tiny fire dragon perched neatly on his shoulder. He sat down cross-legged and scratched the little dragon under the chin; the creature closed its eyes in bliss and exhaled a thin ribbon of flame. Right behind him came Tahno and his two followers, a small wolf-bat fluttering at his side. Tahno extended his arm, and the wolf-bat swept around it in a graceful loop before circling past his fingers and settling near his wrist. He lifted his eyebrows with a smug grin.

"You and your summon make the perfect pair," Sha Ozu said, far too eager to flatter him.

"Look at him," Opal whispered to Asami. "This isn't drama class."

Asami shrugged. "He's even more unbearable now that he has a summon."

"Hey, ladies." Tahno strolled over and dipped into an exaggerated bow. "My adorable Whitefall and I send our greetings."

"Oh. Hello," Asami replied dryly. Opal rolled her eyes without bothering to answer.

Once everyone had arrived, Tenzin raised a hand for silence. Meditation began. Each student settled into place, and even the summons quieted down, curling at their summoners' sides. Stillness filled the room. At the Avatar Academy, morning meditation before breakfast was mandatory—and yes, even summons weren't excused. Tenzin believed it was the most important moment of the day to strengthen the spiritual bond between summoner and summon.

Opal's summoning ritual was scheduled for the following evening. The teachers of the Avatar Academy, along with the elderly Headmistress Katara, stood on the temple steps, ready to bless the birth of a new summoner. Asami and Jinora waited with them, prepared to witness the important moment. Amid the soft murmur of prayers, Opal stepped into the sanctuary, and the great doors slowly closed behind her.

The summoning ritual had to be completed alone. Tenzin had once explained that it was to prevent interference—each person's link to the other world was unique, and any disturbance could cause the coordinates to shift when the gate opened, resulting in a failed summon.

When the prayers ended, everyone remained still, each passing second stretching longer than the last. Then a gentle white glow began to spill from the windows and the seams of the doors, bathing the entire temple in sacred light. A moment later, a beam of gold burst from the dome and shot into the sky, so bright it seemed to wash out the moon itself.

Asami's lips parted in awe. She stared up at the fading glow until the night returned to its usual darkness. From within the Sanctuary came a clear, bright chirp—and the doors opened. Following the teachers inside, Asami and Jinora hurried forward. Opal stood in the center of the room, cradling a tiny phoenix in both hands. Countless golden motes drifted through the creature's downy feathers.

"Congratulations, child," Katara said as she stepped forward, embracing Opal and her summon. "Have you chosen a name?"

"Juicy," Opal replied.

"That's a lovely name," Katara said warmly, her face blooming with a smile.

Asami reached out cautiously, her fingertip barely brushing Juicy's feathers when the phoenix turned its head sharply and pecked her. Asami yelped softly and yanked her hand back.

"She's still a shy little thing," Opal said with a giggle.

On the way back to the tower, Opal carried the little phoenix in her arms. Her fingers sank into the soft feathers, feeling the tiny heartbeat resonating with her own. Even in her delight, she still noticed that Asami was unusually quiet beside her. She turned her head and looked at her.

"You're going to become a Summoner," she said.

"I don't know," Asami answered softly, eyes fixed on the steps beneath her feet.

Opal stopped walking and faced her. "Then here's my advice: when you get back to your dorm, lie down early and try to feel your connection with the Otherworld—instead of studying yourself into exhaustion."

"Thank you. I'll try," Asami said. They exchanged goodnights, and she continued up the stairs alone.

Back in her dorm, she picked up the book she had planned to read, then set it aside. Taking Opal's advice, she lay down early and closed her eyes, listening. Her mother had once heard forests, and hooves crunching over fallen leaves. Iroh had heard the roar of dragons and the crackle of flames. Opal heard birdsong and the beating of wings.

What would she hear? She waited, quietly hopeful.

The quiet of the room only amplified the wind outside, the footsteps of late-returning students in the hallway, and the uneasy growls of a few summons. Aside from that, she heard nothing. Her consciousness slowly slipped toward sleep—until a sudden wolf's howl snapped her awake.

An endless white field spread before her eyes. It wasn't until she heard the faint crunch of footsteps on snow that she realized she was seeing a tundra. Then the brilliant white faded, and she found herself back in her dim dorm room. The silence around her was so complete that even her heartbeat sounded loud.

A wolf!

Asami clenched the blanket in her hands, excitement flooding through her. In her mind she was already sketching the shape of her summon—probably a white wolf living on the frozen plains.

What would its abilities be? Perhaps something tied to snow and ice. She could barely contain her excitement; she wanted nothing more than to rush straight to the Sanctuary right now.

She tried to fall asleep quickly, hoping the night would pass in the blink of an eye so she could tell Tenzin the news first thing in the morning. But this was exactly the moment when the god of sleep liked to toy with humans, keeping the poor soul awake for hours—until dawn.

At last, the day had come.

Asami had passed the Sanctuary countless times, and more than once she had stood outside its gate, watching with quiet envy as each child stepped inside alone. Now it was finally her turn. Normally, a Summoning almost never failed—at least, not when everything was done properly. Yet the historical records still held a few terrifying exceptions. There was the infamous case of the "unluckiest Summoner," whose summoned demon devoured him whole; the fused creature went on to wreak decades of disaster. The thought alone tightened a knot in Asami's stomach.

"You'll do great," Opal said softly, giving her fingers a light squeeze.

Asami nodded. She looked once more at the teachers and the headmistress, then stepped through the doors of the Sanctuary.

At the center of the chamber, the great summoning circle glowed with a faint light. Earlier, Tenzin had lit the ancient sconces lining the walls—relics left by Summoners centuries ago, ignitable only with a special fuel. Once lit, they channeled power into the circle. And just like on Opal's Summoning Night, the skies were clear; the full moon hung high, its silver light pouring through the skylight and falling directly on the circle's center.

Asami stepped into the pool of moonlight. She lifted her gaze to the night sky, then lowered herself onto one knee, placing her right hand on the ground. She closed her eyes, drew a steadying breath, and let the ancient incantation pour from her lips.

As the final syllable dissolved into the air, warmth surged upward—from her feet, her knee, her palm. Her eyes opened. The circle's light had shifted into a pale blue. Even the flames in the sconces flickered blue, though compared to Opal's Summoning, everything felt... dimmer. Asami rose and stepped back beyond the circle's edge, her breath unsteady. Her eyes never left the center. The blue light condensed, folding inward until it formed a tight, glowing sphere. She couldn't see anything inside it.

Only when it burst apart did the figure inside reveal itself—a large, white-furred creature, tilting her head as she looked up at Asami with bright, curious eyes.

She'd done it. She had succeeded.

Asami's mouth parted, though no sound came. She hurried toward her summon—

Wait.

She stopped dead.

From behind the polar-bear dog, a small head peeked out. A child. A human child.

"Who are you?" Asami blurted, panic sharpening her voice. "How did you get into the Sanctuary? You're going to ruin my Summoning!"

"I was about to ask you that!" the girl snapped right back. She hopped in front of the polar-bear dog, jabbed a finger at Asami, and demanded, "Who even are you? What is this place? And why am I here?"

Before Asami could reply, the doors of the Sanctuary swung open, and everyone who had been waiting outside rushed in.

"What happened?" Tenzin called out.

"I... I think I failed..." Asami choked, her voice breaking. "I... I don't know who she is."

"A strange child?" Katara stepped forward, her gaze shifting between the girl and the polar-bear dog.

"What do you want?" Faced with a room full of unfamiliar adults, the girl immediately dropped into a fighting stance. "Don't try anything! I'm a bender!"

"Easy, child," Katara said gently. "Tell me—why are you here?"

"Why am I here?" the girl snapped, her voice rising. "Naga and I were practicing bending in the snow, and then suddenly—bam!—we're here! How should I know why?"

Katara turned to Asami. "Is that polar-bear dog your summon?"

"I think so," Asami replied. "I heard a wolf's howl... and I saw a tundra."

Katara nodded slightly. She exchanged a look with Tenzin before speaking again. "When the gate to the Otherworld opened, the child must have been standing right beside the creature you summoned. I'm guessing she was pulled through by accident. Unbelievable."

Shock rippled across the room. No one had ever witnessed anything like this before. Not even Katara—the headmistress herself—had seen a single mention of such an event in any record.

"The Otherworld?" the girl shouted, her voice rising with panic. "I want to go home! This is kidnapping! I want to go home!"

"Hey, hey, calm down, kid," Tenzin said, stepping forward cautiously.

The movement set her off instantly. She punched the air—once, twice—expecting flames to burst from her fists. Nothing came. She tried again. Still nothing. Her face drained of color. Her bending didn't work here.

Tenzin placed both hands firmly on her shoulders, stopping her frantic movements. "We don't mean you any harm. This was an accident."

"I know this is scary," Katara added, meeting the girl's eyes with steady calm. "but we'll find a way to get you home as soon as possible, okay?"

The girl fell quiet for a moment. Her stance softened slightly, though the fire still burned in her blue eyes.

Of course, this was disastrous for Asami too. Her Summoning had been completely derailed. She hadn't even touched her summon yet—and that creature had been glued to the strange girl the entire time.

"Hey, come here," Asami tried, calling out to her summon.

The polar-bear dog blinked in confusion. But sensing no hostility from Asami, she lifted a paw hesitantly—only for the girl to step in front of her again.

"Naga is my partner!" the girl snapped, glaring. "She's not some 'summon' you can just claim!"

"We're connected—that's why I summoned her. She is my summon," Asami fired back without backing down.

"Naga's been with me since she was a pup! And now you're trying to rip her away— that's straight-up robbery!"

"Robbery? What are you talking about? In this world, every summon has only one master."

"I'm Naga's real master!"

"No—you're wrong. She belongs with me. I'm going to give her a new name!"

"You can't!"

The two girls were now practically shouting, faces flushed red. Everyone else just stared, helpless. Even the teachers, who'd mediated countless petty fights, looked completely baffled. This was way beyond anything they'd seen.

"Uh..." Opal stepped forward, trying to help. "You know, the Academy's single dorms are actually pretty roomy. Maybe you two could just share one, so Naga wouldn't have to—"

"No!" Both girls snapped in perfect unison, shooting daggers at Opal.

"Okay, okay, fine," Opal said with an awkward laugh and backed away.

"My summon has to live with me," Asami insisted.

"Naga won't handle being away from me," Korra said, hugging Naga's neck. Naga, of course, had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Seeing the argument about to explode again, Tenzin stepped in. "Enough, kids."

He turned to the girl from the other world, lowered himself to one knee so he was eye level with her. "Can you tell me your name?"

"...Korra," she muttered reluctantly.

"All right, Korra," Tenzin said gently. "In this world, summons are incredibly important to their summoners. Each one is unique."

"What does that have to do with me?" Korra huffed, crossing her arms. "Naga's mine."

"I know. But listen—every summon comes into this world carrying someone's deepest expectations. Naga did too. Her appearance here isn't a coincidence. She carries Asami's hopes. Today is the first time Asami has met her. Let them get to know each other tonight, okay?"

Korra's gaze slipped past Tenzin, landing on Asami. Something shiny was gathering in her green eyes, her face scrunched up as she struggled to hold them back. She looked furious—and stubborn.

"...Fine," Korra grumbled, looking away. "Just for tonight, Naga can stay with her."

"Good girl." Tenzin patted her shoulder and rose to his feet. "Pema will come by soon to arrange another dorm for you."

"Doesn't matter how ‘familiar' they get," Korra muttered, shooting Asami a look. "When I go home, I'm taking Naga with me."

"You're not taking her anywhere," Asami shot back. "You don't understand the nature of summoning. She and I are meant to form a soul-bond. And that bond is unbreakable. You'll see. You won't be able to separate us."

"All right, all right," Tenzin sighed, rubbing his temples as though his head ached. "It's late. Go get some rest."

As everyone slowly dispersed, the Sanctum finally fell quiet again.

It felt like the worst night of her life.

Back in her dorm, Asami locked the door behind her and leaned against it, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled down her cheeks. After the girl named Korra was taken away by Pema, Katara, as usual, hugged and congratulated the new Summoner, but Asami knew that while her summoning hadn't exactly failed, it was far from perfect. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath—she absolutely couldn't let that girl interfere with her again.

A soft tickle on her arm pulled her attention back. A furry head gently rubbed against her skin. Opening her eyes, she found Naga sitting patiently, emitting a low, comforting whimper. She crouched down and wrapped her arms around Naga's neck, burying her face in the animal's warm fur. The scent was clean and oddly homey.

"We're going to be the best partners," she murmured quietly.

Naga didn't resist her new owner but was still a little nervous in the unfamiliar surroundings. She paced back and forth in the room, occasionally letting out low growls toward the door. Asami pulled out the special canned food she had prepared in advance.

"You've got to eat, girl," Asami said, pushing the plate toward Naga. "This is a treat that drives every summon wild."

Naga just sniffed the food, then she turned her head and walked away.

Asami exhaled, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Well, looks like you're not like the others... or maybe you're just not hungry yet."

"Oh, and I set up a bed for you," she added, pointing to the tan, dome-shaped nest nestled beside her own bed. She'd unpacked it just last night, ever since she'd sensed the call from the Otherworld.

Naga circled the tan, dome-shaped nest once, nuzzling the thick velvety fabric with her nose, seeming to like it. But given her size, it was clearly a bit small—she could only stick her head inside the opening.

"Sorry, I didn't expect you to be this big," Asami said.

But Naga didn't seem to mind. With a plop, she settled on top of the nest, flattening it into a cozy cushion. Her front paws tucked under her head, she relaxed, her tail rhythmically swaying side to side.

Watching Naga finally settle down, Asami felt the tension from the evening begin to ease. She extinguished the light and whispered into the darkness, "Good night, Naga."

Chapter Text

Pema led Korra across the courtyard of the Avatar Academy, lantern in hand. Moonlight spilled over the ancient castle, washing it in something that felt almost sacred—solemn, quiet, impossibly old. Korra's eyes darted from one tower to the next, lingering on each window glowing softly in the night.

A few students passed them, bowing politely to Pema. Their curious stares lingered on Korra for just a beat too long. Korra looked down at herself—Water Tribe blues, dust still clinging stubbornly to the fabric. She looked completely out of place here. And some students had peculiar creatures trotting beside them—fluffy, scaly or glowing. Summons, apparently.

Maybe those poor creatures were snatched too, taken away from their real partners. Korra scowled. She was already regretting letting that Asami guy take Naga. Honestly, she'd let herself be fooled by that pathetic, watery, about-to-cry face. For a second. A very stupid second.

Damn it, she muttered inwardly.

Pema guided her into one of the towers. Soft candlelight flickered along the walls, spilling over rows of colorful portraits, casting ripples of gold across the stairs as they climbed. On the fourth floor, Pema stopped at a door.

"This will be your temporary room, dear," she said, pulling out a ring of keys and unlocking it.

Moonlight from the window illuminated the interior—small sofa, neat desk, tightly packed bookshelf. Cozy, but modest. Pema moved to light the wall lamp.

"This is a student dorm?" Korra asked, wandering in. Everything looked like it belonged in a museum. In her world, people used electric lights—not. "This feels like... someone's personal study."

"Well, this is a noble academy," Pema said with a chuckle. "The previous student left about a month ago. Come, the bedroom's through here."

The smaller door opened to a spacious bed draped in crisp blue linens. Korra plopped onto it experimentally and immediately sank into softness so perfect it felt illegal.

"Whoa," she breathed.

"Everything you'll need for daily life is prepared," Pema said. "Oh—and tomorrow I'll have an Academy uniform tailored for you."

"I don't need an Academy uniform." Korra sat up immediately. She lifted her head to look at Pema, brows knitting together. "I'm not becoming one of you. I'm going home soon."

Pema paused. She knew, for a fact, that the only known gateway to the Otherworld was a Summoning. And those were tied to a single summoner, unpredictable, uncontrollable, and definitely not precise enough to send anyone back to a specific world. But she couldn't bring herself to tell this poor girl that harsh truth. Not tonight. The girl was already clinging to what little certainty she had left.

"All right. If you ever change your mind, just let me know," Pema said gently. She didn't linger; new arrivals always needed space to be alone.

The moment the door clicked shut, silence swallowed the room whole.

Korra lay on her back on the bed. The flickering candle cast a strange, twisting shadow across the ceiling, something like a snarling monster reaching toward her. A shiver crept down her spine. Maybe she was slow to react. Maybe everything had happened too fast. Maybe she was finally catching up to the reality she'd been stubbornly ignoring: She was in another world. A completely foreign world. Right now, her parents were probably panicking, searching for her everywhere. And she'd just... handed her only companion over. Stupid. So stupid. The thought made anger coil in her chest again.

It's fine. I'll be home soon. She curled up on her side, whispering the lie comfortingly to herself. Eventually, exhaustion smothered her fear.

The morning bell dragged her awake. She groaned, rolled over and immediately fell back asleep, unmoving until the sun was high and her stomach growled angrily for food. The small, elegant mantel clock in the study informed her that she had already missed breakfast. Luckily, though, she'd still make it in time for lunch.

The Academy was far livelier during the day. Korra's attention was completely stolen by the griffins soaring across the sky, so she didn't notice the three-headed hound barreling straight toward her. One of the heads rammed into her knee, nearly knocking her off balance.

"Sorry! Sorry!" a girl chased after it, bowing in apology before Korra could even react. She took off again just as quickly, leaving Korra standing there, stunned.

Korra glanced at the girl’s retreating figure. She had meant to ask where the dining hall was. After a moment of thought, she decided there was one reliable method left—follow the crowd. People usually moved toward the same destinations around mealtimes. Turning on her heel, she headed in the same direction the girl had gone. Sure enough, the smell of roasted meat soon drifted into her nose. The moment she stepped inside the food-scent-filled hall, a polar bear-dog launched itself at her, rubbing its giant head against her waist and circling her excitedly, its tail wagging so fast it was practically a blur.

"Good girl," Korra laughed, rubbing her fluffy face.

"I expected to see you at breakfast," Asami said nearby. Her voice was calm but definitely not friendly.

Korra ignored the doubt and judgment woven into the words. "I'm used to waking up late."

"The Avatar Academy has strict routines," Asami said pointedly.

"I'm not a student here," Korra said breezily. "Anyway—how're you and Naga doing? I'm guessing she's been avoiding you."

"No. We're getting along perfectly fine." Asami shrugged with practiced elegance. "She jumped onto my bed this morning to wake me up."

"Oh, Naga's a sweetheart. She loves everyone."

"That's because we have a special bond," Asami insisted. She lifted her right hand, showing the back of it to Korra—even though there was nothing there. She'd seen vine-like markings on her mother's hand and forearm before—proof of the link between a summoner and their summon. As partners grew together, that link formed and deepened over time.

Korra let out a dismissive little tch.

Asami's composure snapped. "Hey! What's with that attitude?!"

Their argument didn't seem to affect Naga at all. She was busy nudging Korra's coat with her snout. Korra felt a ticklish tug at her waist and glanced down—Naga was digging determinedly into her pocket.

Only then did Korra remember the strip of jerky she'd stuffed in there. She pulled it out, and Naga snapped it up instantly, chewing twice before swallowing. Then she sat down obediently in front of Korra, staring up with big, expectant eyes.

"She's starving," Korra accused. "Did you not feed her?"

"I brought plenty of food. She refused all of it."

"So much for your fancy summoner bond. Turns out a piece of jerky works better," Korra said with a smug little tilt of her chin.

Before Asami could explode, a gentle but authoritative voice interrupted: "Girls, lunch is about to begin."

Katara approached, resting a hand on Korra's shoulder. "Don't block the walkway—go on, take your seats."

Korra shot Asami a triumphant glance, the tiniest victorious smirk tugging at her lips, then strode past her with Naga trotting at her heels.

"Headmistress Katara," Asami greeted with a respectful nod, though her voice carried a faint note of defeat.

Katara sighed lightly and offered her an encouraging smile. "You may be spending quite a long time with that child."

With her plate full, Asami sat down beside Opal. Juicy plopped onto the table in front of her, nose already buried in a bowl of salad, blissfully lost in crunching leaves.

"You fought with her again?" Opal asked.

"She's always so rude," Asami grumbled.

"Being transported to a completely foreign world... it's normal to be a bit reactive."

"I know. I'm trying to be nice—it'd benefit both of us."

The clatter of a tray hitting the table cut their conversation short.

"Hey, ladies," Iroh said cheerfully as he dropped into the seat beside Asami. He set a steak in front of his tiny fire dragon, whose eyes instantly glowed like lit coals before it tore into the meat with happy growls.

"I don't see your summon," Iroh said, looking at Asami.

"Over there." Asami jerked her chin toward the far end of the hall. Korra was sitting at the table farthest from them, handing a huge drumstick to Naga. She's doing that on purpose, Asami thought.

"Oh, the famous girl from the Otherworld," Iroh said, following her line of sight.

Korra must've felt them staring, because she glanced over. Iroh gave her a friendly wave. Korra rewarded him with a perfectly executed eye roll.

Not sure whether it was hunger or the food was simply that good, but Korra polished off the large plate in no time. She patted her stomach and let out a satisfied burp. A well-fed Naga lay sprawled at her feet, yawning hugely before narrowing her eyes in contentment.

"Come on, girl." Korra slapped Naga's rump, and Naga lumbered to her feet to follow. They were only a few steps from the hall's entrance when a voice rang out from behind them.

"Hey!"

Korra stopped and turned, slow and begrudging, irritation flickering in her eyes.

"Where are you going?" Asami asked.

"Back to my dorm. To rest. With Naga." Korra deliberately stressed the last two words.

"You can take Naga," Asami replied with a calmness Korra did not expect.

The sudden softness threw Korra off balance for a beat.

"But," Asami continued, "there's a Summon Coordination class at three. You'll need Naga for the joint drills." She walked past them without waiting for a response.

Korra glared at Asami's retreating back. "Why should I listen to you..." she muttered.

She and Naga moved against the flow of students toward an open area. Skirting around a tower, they discovered a different scenery altogether: a lush green forest mirrored in the blue lake, sunlight and breeze working together to scatter golden ripples across the surface. Korra stood at the lakeshore, took a deep breath, and pictured the shape of water in her mind. She raised her arm, trying to pull up a stream—but the lake remained still and calm, no matter how many times she tried. Her bending really was gone. At least here, she couldn't command any of the elements. With a sigh of resignation, she flopped onto the grass. Naga, meanwhile, romped around wildly as though discovering a whole new world.

Korra closed her eyes for a short nap. She wasn't even sleepy—sunlight was simply too warm and too perfect. Naga disappeared into a patch of bushes and soon burst back out, covered in dry leaves. She bounded over and licked Korra's face.

Korra opened her eyes and immediately spotted the red smudges at the corner of Naga's mouth. She jolted upright. "Hey! You're hurt?"

She reached to check Naga's muzzle, only to watch Naga lick her lips lazily and sit back with a big dumb grin.

"Just berries?" Korra exhaled in relief.

"Korra!"

Someone shouted her name. She turned to see Asami running toward them, breathless and visibly annoyed.

Asami pulled up short, hands on her knees. "You didn't come to class!"

"Oh, it already started? I didn't know." Korra said, completely unbothered. "And I never said I'd go."

"You never said you wouldn't go!" Asami snapped. "If you don't want to attend, fine—I won't force you. I'll just take Naga."

At the sound of her name, Naga trotted over and happily nudged Asami's hand.

"Stop being so friendly, Naga!" Korra barked.

"Looks like she doesn't listen to you as much as you think," Asami said, scratching Naga under the chin.

Korra stood abruptly, fists clenched at her sides. "I'm not letting you take Naga anywhere alone. I'm going too."

"Then hurry." Asami straightened up, her composure slipping just enough to show a flicker of satisfaction. "We're already ten minutes late."

The Summon Coordination classroom was enormous—an open training hall with no desks or chairs. Tenzin stood on the front platform with his griffin perched beside him. Young summoners and their partners lined up in two neat rows on the right, while the students who hadn't awakened any summoning abilities sat scattered casually around the room.

Asami tiptoed toward the back of the summoners' line, hoping not to draw attention. Naga, however, seemed to have the opposite idea. Her heavy paws thudded loudly against the floor as she followed Asami, the rhythmic clomp echoing through the open hall. One by one, heads turned—pulling everyone's attention away from Iroh's demonstration and toward the late-arriving summoner—until Asami finally took her place in line.

Tenzin cleared his throat. "Now that everyone is here," he said in that polite-but-disapproving tone of his, "let's continue." He nodded for Iroh to resume.

Korra picked a spot against the wall and sat cross-legged. The girl beside her kept sneaking glances her way, as if wanting to speak but losing her nerve. Korra suddenly remembered seeing her the previous night at the Sanctuary.

"Hey, I'm Korra," she said first.

"I'm Jinora," the girl answered, her voice small and timid.

Korra turned her attention back to the center of the room just as Iroh stepped forward. A block of wood sat about twenty feet in front of him. He raised his arm, and his little fire dragon hovered above it, wings beating in quick rhythm.

"Fire," Iroh commanded.

The flame-shaped mark on the back of his hand lit up. At the same moment, the identical sigil along his dragon's spine flared bright. Responding instantly, the tiny dragon shot forward, jaws opening wide as a massive plume of fire exploded out of its mouth. Even from her corner, Korra felt the heat roll across her skin.

When the flames finally died, the block of wood was nothing more than a smoldering pile of ash. Applause filled the hall.

"What's that mark on his hand?" Korra whispered.

"The link sigil," Jinora explained. "When a summoner and their partner build enough trust, they form a link. Iroh and his fire dragon already have a Level-One Link. The higher the level, the stronger the bond—and the stronger their combined power."

Korra nodded slowly—only half understanding, but fully enough to connect the dots. So that's what Asami's after, she thought darkly. Form a link with Naga... then take her away from me forever.

"Damn it..." Korra muttered before she could stop herself.

"What?" Jinora blinked at her.

"Nothing—nothing." Korra waved it off quickly and shot a thorny glare toward Asami. No way. She was not letting that girl get her way.

After Iroh's demonstration, it was the other summoners' turn to train.

Tenzin stepped into the center of the field and produced a thick cloud of smoke, planting five marked targets inside it. The task was simple: each summon beast had to locate and tap the targets in the correct order within a set time limit. But with the heavy smoke completely blocking their vision, they would have to rely on their summoner's support.

"Each of you should have a sheet with the coordinates," Tenzin said, his voice echoing through the hall. Because the smoke obscured everything on the ground, he had taken to the air on the back of his griffin, hovering above the scene to monitor it. "You may guide your partners with your voice, hand signals, or—if you have one—your link sigil. Use whatever method you have to help your partner find each target. Understood?"

"Yes, Master Tenzin!" the young summoners chorused.

"Good. You'll go one at a time."

Korra lounged against the wall, hands folded behind her head, watching with amusement. Classes in this world were way more exciting than the ones she grew up with. Sitting still at a desk had never been her thing—she'd always preferred bending practice, the kind that let her move.

The exercise turned out to be pretty basic, so most students completed it smoothly, no matter what communication method they used. Even Opal, who had only completed her summoning ritual recently, called out simple left and right instructions to Juicy—and Juicy understood instantly. Together, they cleared the task in under twenty seconds.

"Opal's definitely going to be a great summoner," Jinora said.

"They're really in sync," Korra agreed. "But how come the people with the sigils don't need to say anything? Their summons just... know where to go."

"The sigil lets them share a bit of each other's senses," Jinora explained. "For simple commands, that's more than enough. When the link level gets higher, the summoner and the summon can even share sight and hearing. Becoming fully united—that's the highest level."

"So why did that fire dragon guy have to yell during his demo?" Korra asked. "If he's linked, couldn't he just... think it?"

"You mean Iroh?" Jinora tilted her head, considering it. "Maybe he just thinks shouting looks cool."

"Mm-hmm," Korra nodded. "Makes sense."

Asami and Naga were the last pair to go. Her palms were slick with sweat. She always earned top marks in theoretical classes, but when it came to practical training—especially after that less-than-perfect summoning ritual—her confidence evaporated.

"Naga, listen carefully," Asami said as she crouched down, locking eyes with the white beast. "I'm going to call out 'left' or 'right.' You follow the command. Okay?"

Naga tilted her head, concentrating hard—as if sheer effort might make the instructions clearer. How much she actually understood was anyone's guess, but Tenzin had already raised his hand to signal the start.

"Go!" Asami commanded.

Naga didn't move an inch.

"Over there." Asami pointed toward the smoke.

Naga glanced at Asami, then at the cloud of smoke, before finally getting up and trudging toward it. Slow as it was, she managed to hit the first two markers without issue. Just as Asami was calling out the direction for the third target, a whistle suddenly echoed through the training hall.

Naga froze. Her ears perked. Then—without hesitation—she spun around and exploded out of the smoke, sprinting at full tilt across the field and launching herself straight at Korra.

"Training terminated," Tenzin announced mercilessly. "Task failed."

Asami stood there helplessly as the white blur sprinted away from her, launching directly into Korra's arms. A wave of heat surged up her neck; her cheeks burned like fire. She marched toward Korra like an enraged wildcat.

"Naga could have finished that," she spat through gritted teeth.

"I just whistled by accident," Korra said, palms lifting in faux-innocence. "Guess it means your teamwork isn't very good. Naga gets distracted by me way too easily." Her grin was infuriating—eyebrows raised, practically sparkling with smugness.

Asami lunged forward and grabbed Korra by the collar. Jinora, sensing imminent disaster, scrambled to her feet and wedged herself between them, arms outstretched.

"H-HEY! Both of you—stop!"

Before Asami could steady her breath, a strange noise from Naga's throat snapped her attention away. Naga was no longer wagging her tail. Instead, she paced in small, anxious circles, throat convulsing as she let out dry, gagging retches.

"Naga?" Asami called out, her voice tightening with worry.

Naga arched her back and gagged, vomiting up a puddle of half-digested food. She swayed, head drooping, a low, pained whine rumbling from her throat.

Korra's smug expression vanished instantly. She dropped to her knees beside Naga. "Hey—hey, girl, what's wrong?"

"It might be food poisoning," Asami said, whipping toward Korra. "What exactly did you feed her?"

"Nothing bad! Just lunch—and some jerky I brought..." Korra protested. Then her eyes widened as she remembered. "Wait—she was eating some berries in the bushes by the lake..."

"Berries? Those are toxic!"

"I didn't know—"

"Of course you didn't," Asami snapped. "You don't know anything about this world. Which means you should be even more careful with her!"

A gust of wind swept over them as the griffin landed behind Asami. Tenzin hopped down.

"What's happening, kids?"

"Naga spent only a few hours with her and already got food poisoning," Asami said accusingly.

"I—" Korra began, but Tenzin raised a hand.

"That's enough. We're taking her to the herbal ward. Now."

The herbal ward sat inside a glass greenhouse on the west side of the academy, sunlight pooling over rows of lush, vibrant plants. Kya examined Naga from head to tail.

"A mild fever," she said softly. "It's a symptom of this toxin. But don't worry—she'll recover after a few days of treatment."

Korra's voice came out smaller than usual. "Can I take her back to the dorm tonight? I... hate being alone at night."

"I'm afraid not, dear," Kya said softly. "She needs to stay here for observation."

"...Okay." Korra's shoulders slumped.

From the side, Asami watched her. Korra stayed kneeling by Naga's side, fingers stroking the white fur in slow passes. She looked sturdy, tough—even stubborn—but maybe she wasn't nearly as strong as she pretended to be.

After saying goodbye to Kya and Naga, the two girls walked out of the greenhouse together in heavy silence. The sun was sinking, stretching their two small shadows long across the path.

Asami took a breath and finally spoke.

"Um... about earlier." She hesitated. "I'm sorry. I was harsh. If you need a friend, maybe I could—"

Korra abruptly stopped. Asami halted too, heart squeezing tight. She wasn't sure what answer she expected, but for one suspended beat, everything felt strangely still.

And then—

"I don't need you as a friend!" Korra screamed, and sprinted away.

Asami stood there, stunned. She blinked as the meaning of Korra's rejection finally landed. Heat surged up her body in a furious explosion.

"KO–RRA!! I hate you!!"

Chapter Text

The dinner bell hadn't rung yet, though Tenzin was probably wrapping up his class by this time. Korra didn't want to go back, and she didn't need to. She wandered aimlessly across the campus until a tall stone wall blocked her path. The Avatar Academy sat inside an enormous, ancient castle. Korra had only explored a tiny portion of it so far, and she couldn't help wondering just how far the castle stretched. She began tracing the wall, following it along the edge of the grounds. In the more deserted corners, the stone grew old and crumbled in places, though the top was still far too high for her to reach.

A faint rustling drifted from the other side, something stepping over dry branches. A flock of crows perched along the wall burst into sharp, frantic caws, then shot into the sky. Korra stopped and crouched down, pressing an ear against the stone, listening intently. For a moment, she thought she heard people whispering... but the sound faded quickly. Probably just some animal passing by, she thought. She was about to turn away when she suddenly looked up—and two furry heads popped over the top of the wall.

They scanned the area, somehow missing the girl standing right beneath them. Then both figures hopped fully onto the wall. Human? No—tails. Ears. Fur. Korra blinked in confusion.

"Hey!" she shouted up at them.

The shorter boy jerked in surprise. He lost his balance and toppled from the wall, but in the brief second he fell, he twisted midair, landing lightly on both feet with the smooth, fluid grace of a cat. Yes. A cat. Korra could finally see him clearly now: a feline-type boy with round ears like a tiger or a leopard, and thick fur growing across his cheeks. The other boy dropped down beside him.

"Are you... Summons?" Korra asked. It was the only explanation she could think of—maybe some misbehaving Summons had slipped away from their summoners for a joyride, and now, they were trying to sneak back in.

"Summons? No way," the short boy said.

"Who are you?" the taller boy asked, giving her a suspicious once-over. "Students here wear uniforms. Did you sneak in from outside too?"

"I'm from the Otherworld," Korra said.

The boys exchanged a look, clearly not understanding what she meant.

"I was summoned here," she added.

"So you are a Summon?" the shorter boy asked, eyes widening.

"No. Naga and I came through the portal together. Naga's the Summon, and I—" Korra shrugged. "I'm an accident. Katara's words."

"Whoa, amazing!" the boy's ears twitched rapidly.

"Where are you two from? And those ears... are they real?" Korra stared openly at the fluffy pair on his head.

"Of course they're real!" the boy said proudly, lifting his chin.

"You've never seen beastfolk before?" the taller boy asked.

"In comics," Korra admitted.

"Well, now you're seeing the real deal." The short boy grinned wide, flashing sharp feline fangs. He held out a hand. "I'm Bolin."

That hand was larger and much more substantial than the human's, with hair covering the back of it. Korra hesitated, then slowly shook it. "I'm Korra."

"Mako," said another boy, with a sour face and no enthusiasm. He nudged Bolin. "We need to go. If we get caught, we're in trouble."

"But we were caught," Bolin said, pointing at Korra.

"Wait—you two are thieves?" Korra narrowed her eyes.

"What? No!" Bolin waved both hands frantically. "We're just curious! Weird Summons fly out of this castle all the time."

Mako snorted. "Those nobles never let beastfolk walk through their precious Avatar Academy."

Korra tilted her head. She wasn't listening to a word he said. Her attention was completely captured by the impatiently swishing tail behind him.

The tail froze mid-air. Mako held back his anger and ignored the girl from the Otherworld. He grabbed Bolin and walked out of the shadow. The sun had set a little lower, and the pale golden afterglow that had enveloped the castle was gradually fading away.

Korra hurried after them. "You still haven't told me where you came from."

"The nearby recruit camp," Bolin replied.

"Recruit camp?"

"Most of our people end up serving as soldiers for humans," Bolin said.

"Or whatever other jobs humans think we're good for," Mako added, with a curl of his lip.

Bolin strode forward with his usual big steps, but Mako yanked him back before he realized what was happening. In the next second he was dragged into a narrow corner of the wall, and Korra squeezed in with them.

"Hey—watch it! You're squishing my tail!" Bolin hissed.

"Sorry!" Korra glanced back and quickly lifted her elbow.

"Shh—" Mako shot them both a warning look. The two of them clamped their hands over their mouths and even held their breath.

Not far away, a beautiful silver unicorn was moving with light, graceful steps. Wherever it passed, shimmering silver particles drifted in the air, as if it had just walked out of some sacred heaven. All three kids stared, wide-eyed.

Bolin couldn't help whispering in awe. "How can such a noble creature even exist?"

"I bet its summoner is some super elegant princess," Mako whispered, eyes glued to the path the unicorn had taken, already picturing the princess's breathtaking entrance.

But instead of a princess, Mako's jaw dropped at the sight of a burly, bearded uncle jogging after the unicorn. He said something to the unicorn, and the unicorn affectionately nuzzled his hand.

"Who's that guy? Do you know him?" Bolin turned to Korra.

"Tenzin's brother, Bumi," Korra said. He'd been there during Asami's summoning ritual too, though this was her first time seeing his Summon.

"Unbelievable..." Mako muttered, clearly deflated.

The unicorn soon disappeared from view, but the children remained frozen in place until the clang-clang of the bell echoed through the castle. More people began appearing in the courtyard, all heading toward the dining hall.

"We need to go. Now," Mako said.

"If we're late, that demon instructor's gonna kill us." Just thinking about the instructor's fury made Bolin shudder.

"Will we meet again?" Korra asked.

"Maybe you can come to the recruit camp..." Bolin started, but Mako had already grabbed him by the collar. Bolin barely managed a quick wave. "Bye, Korra!"

And with that, the two beast-boy brothers slipped back into the shadows.

Korra had run into a small but annoying problem. She'd washed her clothes the night before, and by morning they were still heavy with dampness. Worse—she didn't have any spares. She clicked her tongue in irritation and decided to leave the half-dry clothes where they were for now.

So if you happened to pass through the courtyard that morning, you would have witnessed a rather shocking sight for such a prim and proper noble academy: a girl sprinting across the open grounds in a tank top and pajama pants, hair flying, completely unbothered by decorum. Bumi watched her breeze past, stroking his beard with deep fascination—as if observing some rare, free-roaming creature.

"Kya!" Korra shouted the moment she pushed open the door to the herb room.

By the windowsill, the two women froze as if turned into a painting. Kya was half-reclining against the sill, one hand braced on it while the other circled the waist of the woman beside her. The short-haired woman opposite her still had a teasing finger hooked under Kya's chin. Both stared in shock at the girl who had burst in. Sunlight traced a golden outline around them, adding a final, perfect stroke to the tableau.

Korra blinked twice. "...How's Naga?" she asked.

The tableau shattered. The short-haired woman cleared her throat and stepped back, and Kya casually flipped her hair before hopping down from the sill.

"Naga's doing much better, sweetheart. She's right inside," Kya said, guiding Korra into the inner room.

Naga, who'd been resting on a cushion, perked up the instant Korra appeared. With a delighted rumble, she bounded over, rearing up to place her front paws on Korra's shoulders.

"Good girl," Korra murmured, rubbing her back.

"Shouldn't you be in meditation class right now?" the short-haired woman asked, folding her arms with a hint of irritation at being interrupted.

"She's the girl from the Otherworld," Kya said with a smile. "She's still adjusting to life here."

"Hmm..." The woman raised a brow. "Speaking of which—hey, kid!"

Korra turned.

"Why are you running around in your pajamas?"

"My clothes aren't dry. I don't have anything else to wear," Korra said, entirely unbothered.

"Didn't Pema give you an academy uniform?"

"I don't need it."

The woman stepped forward. "The Avatar Academy is a place that values proper conduct. How can you run around looking so disheveled?"

"And who are you supposed to be?" Korra shot back, temper flaring. "Why do you even care? I'm leaving soon anyway!"

The woman exchanged a glance with Kya. "You didn't tell her?"

Before Kya could reply, Korra demanded, "Tell me what?"

Kya winced. "Well... sending you back might take a little time."

"How long?" Korra frowned.

"A few months? Maybe... a few years?"

"What?!" Korra's emotions exploded. She rushed toward Kya, but the short-haired woman grabbed the back of her tank top, stopping her mid-stride.

"Let go of me!" Korra shouted, swinging her fists.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?" the woman barked back. "Throwing a tantrum? You think that's going to magically send you home faster?"

The rapid-fire questions knocked the fight out of Korra. She still glared defiantly at the woman, but under that heavy, commanding presence, she didn't push any further.

The woman finally released her grip. "Summoning accidents aren't anyone's fault. But what's done is done. Katara and Tenzin are doing everything they can. For now, the only thing you can do is stay put—and put your clothes on properly."

A wave of frustration surged up in Korra. It wasn't her choice to come to this world. It wasn't her choice to dress like this. Why was she the one getting scolded? She opened her mouth to argue, but tears spilled out instead. Naga padded over and licked her hand gently.

"Lin, that was too much," Kya said sharply. She crouched down and wiped Korra's cheeks with gentle fingers. "It's alright, honey. If you don't want the Academy uniform, I'll find you something else. Okay?"

Korra nodded.

"Sorry," Lin muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm used to talking to new recruits like that."

"This isn't a recruit camp," Kya muttered, shooting her a look before leading Korra into another room. When they came back out, Korra was dressed in a clean set of casual clothes—slightly ill-fitting, but dry.

Korra walked up to Lin and looked up at her. The anger and fear from before were gone—kids burned hot and cooled just as fast.

"Kya said you're an instructor at the recruit camp," Korra said.

"That's right," Lin replied. "Lin Beifong."

"Can I join the recruit camp?"

Confusion flickered across Lin's brow. "The recruit camp isn't a playground. It's high-intensity training for beastfolk—strong, fast, born fighters. Ordinary kids don't last long."

"I'm not ordinary. I'm strong too," Korra said. "And Mako and Bolin are there."

"Mako and Bolin?" Lin's expression sharpened immediately. "How do you know them?"

"I met them yesterday..." Korra began—and then realized she'd said too much.

"You met them at the Academy?"

"No, no!" Korra denied quickly.

Lin didn't press further. She clearly already had a good idea of what happened. "Fine. You can give it a try. Just don't come running back to Kya in tears and blame me."

"If you make this kid cry again, I won't let you off," Kya said with a playful poke to Lin's shoulder.

"Alright. I’ll hold back—this time." Lin said.

Just like Bolin had said, the recruit camp was close. Korra and Lin walked about ten minutes before arriving at the training grounds. Two watchtowers stood at the entrance—the tallest structures in the entire camp. It was right after breakfast, so drills hadn't begun yet; beastfolk lounged around, chatting and bragging, tails flicking and ears twitching with energy.

"Captain!" A human man bowed to Lin with utmost respect.

"Song, gather everyone," Lin ordered.

"Yes, ma'am!"

Song raised the bone whistle hanging at his neck and blew sharply. The piercing sound made every beastfolk ear snap upright. After a flurry of hurried footsteps, the recruits formed tidy rows. The air fell silent as they waited for their instructor's next command.

Bolin stood in the second row. The moment he spotted Korra standing beside Lin, dread washed over him. And sure enough—

"Mako! Bolin! Step forward!" Lin barked.

The two boys exchanged a look of shared misery before reluctantly stepping out of formation.

"Over there!" Lin jabbed a finger toward an empty patch of ground. "Five hundred weighted squats. No breaks. If you stop, you start over."

"Why—" Mako began, but Lin cut him off with a sharp glare.

"You know exactly why."

Shoulders slumped, the brothers trudged to the side. They cast Korra a betrayed look as they passed. Korra could only offer a helpless, apologetic smile.

"What's with that runt?" a hyena-like beastman asked, eyeing Korra with undisguised disdain. "She's not actually here to train, is she?"

"Of course I'm here to train," Korra replied.

"You?" The hyena barked a laugh. "You won't last ten minutes."

Several other beastfolk chuckled along.

"Quiet!" Lin snapped. She turned to the hyena. "Since you're so confident, why don't you race her?"

"No problem," the hyena said instantly, more than eager.

"And you?" Lin asked Korra.

"Bring it on," Korra said, cracking her knuckles, already excited.

Lin nodded. Truth be told, she was curious to see what this overconfident kid could actually do. She led the group to the training ring.

The "arena" was simply a shallow circular pit dug into the ground and filled with soft dirt. Korra and the hyena stepped into the center while the others formed a loose ring around them, eager to spectate.

"Usual rules," Lin said. "Hyena, claws and fangs away."

The beastman snorted. "I won't need them. My fists alone will make her cry for mercy."

"Try it," Korra shot back without blinking.

Lin announced the start of the match.

The hyena crouched low, then exploded forward like a spring, launching a fierce punch straight at Korra. He was sure it'd be over quick—but he'd clearly underestimated her. Korra slipped aside with a simple sidestep. She had to admit—he was fast, faster than any human. But in her world, she'd been trained to dodge fire blasts, water whips, and flying chunks of earth that were far quicker than this.

After several useless swings, the hyena grew increasingly impatient. His once-steady footwork became sloppy. Finally, Korra spotted an opening. As he missed another punch and lost his balance, she planted her feet, spun, and drove her clenched fist into his furry face. The hyena staggered back several steps but didn't fall.

"Huh. Kinda soft. Not bad." Korra said with a grin.

"Damn it!" the hyena growled, eyes flashing with bloodlust. His muscles tensed, fur along his neck and back bristling, suddenly making him look twice as big.

Korra froze for a heartbeat, startled. For the first time, she felt like she was facing a real beast—raw and wild. 

With a sudden lunge, the hyena slammed into her chest. The impact sent her flying backward, and she hit the ground hard. She had just enough time to be grateful for the cushion of soft dirt before he pounced. He straddled her, pinning her beneath his weight, and raised his right hand—sharp claws fully extended.

"Enough!" Lin barked. She drew her sword and knocked his claws aside in a flash.

Panting, the hyena's eyes cleared. He pushed himself up and stepped back.

"You broke the rules. You lose," Lin declared.

"Claws are part of who we are," the hyena muttered resentfully.

"If I could bend, I'd have lit your tail on fire already," Korra shot back, pushing herself up, wincing as her chest throbbed.

"How do you feel?" Lin asked, bending down to pull Korra to her feet.

Korra cracked a smirk. "Don't worry, I'm not about to run crying to Kya."

"If he hadn't broken the rules, you wouldn't be the winner," Lin said bluntly.

"I know." Korra flashed a wide grin. "But at least it proves I'm a lot stronger than you thought, right?"

Lin said nothing but the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth said plenty.

Across the field, Mako and Bolin had abandoned all pretense of training, hugging their wooden posts while craning their necks to watch the match. Then their eyes met Lin's.

"Who told you to stop?!" Lin roared. "Start the count over!"

"NOOO!!!" Their wail tore through the air.

Asami didn't see Korra all day. Honestly, classes were so much better without that girl causing trouble, and Naga behaved perfectly. But for some reason, she still couldn't stay focused. Her mind kept wandering—always to Korra. From Kya, she'd learned that Korra had been taken to the recruit training camp. Of course, wherever Korra went and whatever she did had nothing to do with her. She had no idea why she even cared. It wasn't until dinner that Korra finally appeared again.

Korra practically sprinted to the dining hall. After a whole day of beastfolk drills, she was starving—and she had to admit, the Avatar Academy's meals were a hundred times better than whatever the camp served. She didn't even bother to change. Covered in dust, hair a mess, she burst through the doors.

"Hey! Otherworld Girl!" Tahno called, dragging out his voice in an annoying sing-song way.

"What now?" Korra muttered, annoyed.

"I heard you were out there brawling with beastfolk," he said with a smug grin. "Rolling around with those filthy animals?"

"What's it to you? And they're not filthy animals. Though yeah, some of them are just as rude and full of themselves as you."

"You brat—you comparing me to them?!" Tahno yelled, jabbing a finger in her face.

Korra slapped his hand away and kept walking. Tahno, humiliated, wasn't letting it go. He flicked his wrist, and his wolfbat swooped after her. It circled above her head, screeching. Korra waved her arms wildly to chase it off. But it only flew higher, waited for an opening, then dove and bit down on her ponytail. Korra shrieked.

"Back off, Tahno!" Asami snapped, shoving the boy who was enjoying his little prank far too much. 

Naga growled at the wolfbat, loud and sharp. Startled, the creature fled back to Tahno's side in disgrace.

"Look at her," Tahno scoffed. "She doesn't belong at the Avatar Academy."

"You don't get to decide that," Asami said, glaring at him.

Under her stare, Tahno immediately stiffened, suddenly uncomfortable—realizing he'd lose this battle—turned and stomped away.

"Um..." Korra began. "Thanks... I guess."

Asami glanced at Korra's dirt-covered clothes and the small scrape on her forehead. "But... um... training with beastfolk isn't exactly... proper. They are pretty savage."

"Oh, come on. So you do think the same as that jerk."

"I meant their living habits and the way they act. They're rough. That's just who they are."

"Yeah, right. No matter how you say it, you nobles always look down on everyone else."

"Fine. Think whatever you want," Asami said. If she kept arguing, it would just end in another pointless fight. She didn't expect Korra to understand her—or accept her. Maybe they were simply destined to be incompatible.

Korra started to leave with Naga. Then she paused, turned back, and announced, "Oh—by the way. Naga's sleeping in my dorm tonight—and from now on, she sleeps with me. Every night."

Asami didn't refuse immediately. "How about we make a deal?"

"What kind of deal?"

"Naga can stay with you at night. But during the day, she comes to class with me. All of them. If you want to come to class too, that's fine. If you want to go train with the beastfolk again, that's your choice. But Naga can't skip."

Korra rubbed her chin, thinking it over. It actually sounded reasonable—and at least they wouldn't keep fighting over who Naga should follow. She held out her hand. "Deal."

"Deal." Asami smiled and took her hand.

The moment their fingers touched, Korra felt her heartbeat skip—like a tiny spark had jumped between them. It was so brief she didn't pay it any mind.

"Make sure you get up early tomorrow," Asami said.

"Why?" Korra asked, puzzled.

"All the classes. Including meditation. Naga will wake you."

Korra froze. She had completely forgotten about that.

"You can't back out," Asami added, turning to catch up with Opal.

"You're a demon!" Korra muttered after her, cheeks puffed with frustration.

The oldest books lay hidden in the deepest reaches of the library. A single oil lamp burned there, its flame flickering restlessly—casting a small pool of light that thinned and dissolved into the surrounding dark. From somewhere within the maze of shelves came a soft, weary sigh.

In the wavering glow, the lines on Tenzin's face seemed carved even more sharply than usual. He shook his head, tired and discouraged, closed the volume in his hands, and slid it back into its place. Raising the lamp, he let its faint light skim across shelf after shelf as he pressed on with his search.

Records of opening a gateway to another world weren't entirely nonexistent. In fact, one ancient text mentioned that the greatest Warlock of the world had once moved freely among multiple worlds. But Warlocks had never been of humankind. Humans might carry a vast reservoir of magic within them, but they could never wield it on their own. Only a rare few could channel a fragment of that power through the bond with their summons—those individuals were called Summoners.

"Warlocks..." Tenzin murmured. All the clues now pointed in a single direction:

The forbidden land of humankind—

The Cursed Citadel.

Chapter Text

Korra felt like her entire body had been taken hostage by exhaustion. She automatically blocked out the morning bell; if Naga hadn't yanked hard on her blanket—dragging both blanket and Korra right off the bed—she probably would've slept until the end of time. Yesterday's intense training had finally come back to bite her. She lay sprawled on the floor, every muscle in her body screaming in protest.

Alright, fine. She admitted it, she had severely underestimated the beastfolk's stamina... or horribly overestimated her own.

Naga leaned down and gave her face a long lick, as if trying to wake her up. Korra wiped the slobber off with the blanket and cocooned herself in it like a silkworm. Naga let out a low, worried whine, then tugged the blanket off her again.

"I want to die... Naga," Korra groaned, peeling herself off the floor with the defeated air of someone whose soul had abandoned her body sometime during the night. Only her hair seemed lively, sticking up rebelliously in all directions.

Naga bumped her head enthusiastically against Korra's shoulder. Korra shrieked. Naga froze, bewildered. She swore she'd only used the lightest touch.

By the time Korra dragged her heavy limbs to the meditation room and pushed open the door, they were already five minutes late. Meditation was interrupted; Tenzin lifted his head, his expression gentle. Of course—if it had been any other student, he'd be scolding them by now.

"I'm glad to see you in the meditation hall, Korra," he said. "...Even though you're late. Still, I hope you learn to appreciate the calm of morning meditation. Find yourself a seat."

"Yes, Master Tenzin," Korra replied.

"Oh, and one more thing," Tenzin added. "Try not to fall asleep by accident."

"I won't," Korra answered, though she had absolutely planned to take a nap. Now that he'd said that, her rebellious streak refused to let her.

Naga automatically padded over to Asami's side and flopped down next to her. Korra muttered under her breath—Naga was getting way too comfortable with academy life. Korra picked a spot near the back and plopped down cross-legged. She tried to meditate, but after her head dipped forward and snapped back up several times, she finally accepted the truth—there was no way she could stay awake with her eyes closed. And honestly, she didn't believe everyone else was really meditating either. And even if someone was sleeping, Tenzin had his eyes shut; he wouldn't notice a thing.

Korra cracked one eye open, then slowly got to her feet, moving quietly as she observed each seated figure in the room. That was when she noticed Tahno's summon. A large bubble was inflating and collapsing from the wolf-bat's nostril with every breath. A wicked idea popped into Korra's mind.

She crept toward the wolf-bat until she was close enough to reach out. Her fingertip tapped the bubble. It popped with a soft pfft—quiet, but loud enough to jolt the sleeping creature awake. The wolf-bat panicked, flapping wildly and letting out a piercing screech. Meditation was interrupted once again. Korra slipped back to her spot in the chaos and arranged her face into an expression of perfect innocence.

The gentle patience on Tenzin's face evaporated. He glowered at the source of the disturbance. "Tahno! Take your summon outside. Now."

Tahno stared back, wide-eyed and baffled, clearly having no idea what had happened. Tenzin didn't give him a chance to explain.

"Out!" Tenzin barked.

Tahno stood reluctantly. To be fair, he wasn't entirely innocent—either he'd been sleeping with the wolf-bat, or he hadn't realized his summon had dozed off, which meant they lacked proper mental attunement. Either way, both were violations of Tenzin's meditation expectations.

Korra's sleepiness was completely gone, chased away by the triumphant thrill of a prank well executed. Meditation class thankfully ended soon after.

Asami and Naga paused by the doorway, waiting for Korra to catch up before heading toward the dining hall together.

"See? Waking up early isn't that hard," Asami said.

"For me, it's extremely hard," Korra replied. "You have no idea what I just survived."

"A battle?"

"A battle."

"Are you still going to the recruit camp today?"

"If I do, my body's going to fall apart."

"I thought you were tougher than that."

"I wish I were as tough as a beastfolk," Korra sighed dramatically. "Anyway... what classes are we stuck with today?"

"Bumi's combat training," Asami said.

"Sounds fun, but..." Korra slowed. "Combat with what? I mean—do summons actually fight like soldiers? On a battlefield?"

"When the situation calls for it, yes. Summoners and their summons are the strongest force in the country," Asami explained. "Mostly, they're meant to stand against the Dark Lord."

"The Dark Lord?"

"Some being with wicked power. He doesn't show up often—maybe once every few centuries."

"So summoners are basically manga heroes," Korra said. "Defeat the Dark Lord, save the world, all that."

"You could put it that way."

"Hey!" Opal called from behind them, jogging up. "You two look like you're actually getting along! I mean—you're not yelling or anything."

"Uh... yeah..." Asami said, not sounding convinced. She was still trying to decide whether "not arguing" counted as "getting along," when Korra cut in.

"We just have a temporary ceasefire," Korra announced. "No way am I ‘getting along' with someone who steals Naga's affection!"

She stuck out her tongue, spun around, and marched ahead with exaggerated indignation.

Asami could only lift her hands helplessly at Opal, as if to say: You see what I'm dealing with.

The combat training class was held outdoors, in an open field beside the castle. Even from a distance, Korra could already hear strange shrieks and the sound of metal cages being slammed into. Bumi stood waiting with his unicorn—his sacred summoned beast. Beside the creature loomed a massive iron cage stuffed with ugly, lizard-like monsters. Pitch-black and twitching with aggression, they scraped at the bars with claws and teeth.

Filth like that shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a holy unicorn, Korra couldn't help thinking.

For safety reasons, non-summoner students weren't technically allowed to attend combat classes. But Bumi had no intention of sending Korra away. Something about the kid felt... different.

"These ogres are today's training targets," Bumi announced, holding up a single finger. "You should all know their traits and temperament from theory class. Now, each partnered pair—provided you have at least a Level-One link—will face one ogre. Use whatever method works. Just try not to hurt."

He shot a look at the younger students lingering too close. "As for those of you without a link yet—back up. I'd rather not give Kya extra work and get yelled at later."

Bumi then herded the non-participants behind the fence and released nine ogres one by one. The moment the beasts burst from their cages, they lunged forward with bared teeth—targeting the summoners rather than the summoned beasts, clearly cunning enough to aim for the weaker prey.

Korra leaned over the fence, eyes locked on the nearest fight. An ogre lunged at a young summoner girl, but her three-headed hound wasn't about to let that happen. The middle head snapped down on the ogre's tail and hurled it aside.

"Nice work, girls!" the summoner shouted.

Girls...? Does a three-headed dog count as three summons? Korra wondered as she watched.

Just then, the markings on the girl's arm flared to life. The hound let out a thunderous roar, and three jets of black flame erupted from its mouths. The ogre twisted away just in time, the flames scorching the ground.

No one noticed that one last ogre remained locked in a separate cage, worrying at the latch with sharp claws. Bumi, unsurprisingly, had forgotten to secure it properly. With a sharp click, the latch popped open. The ogre slipped out while everyone was focused on the battlefield. It skirted around the ongoing fights and charged straight toward the children outside the fence.

"Damn it!" Bumi immediately caught the movement. He raised his arm to activate his link and wipe the field clean, but then slowly lowered it again.

Because Naga had already moved. She vaulted forward, slamming the rogue ogre with one massive paw. The creature tumbled across the ground, rolling several times before it finally stopped. Naga landed on it, pinning it down effortlessly with her weight.

"Naga, bite its neck!" Korra shouted.

"No—bite its left shoulder!" Asami yelled at the same time.

Naga hesitated, ears flicking in confusion. In that split second of hesitation, the ogre wriggled free from under her paw. It opened its jaws wide, ready to counterattack. But Bumi clenched his right fist. The markings along his arm blazed to life. Light burst from his unicorn in a blinding flash. A wave of radiant energy swept outward, racing across the entire field. Wherever it passed, ogres were torn apart, their bodies dissolving into drifting ash before they even had time to scream.

Korra stared, stunned. So this... this was the true power of a high-level summon.

"The neck isn't an ogre's weak point," Asami said, snapping Korra out of her trance.

"If you hadn't interrupted, Naga would've torn it apart already," Korra grumbled. "Neck, shoulder—whatever."

"I told her to hit the left shoulder because that's where the heart is. A clean kill takes technique, not mindless rushing."

"Why do you always sound so superior? I don't need you teaching me how to fight—and Naga doesn't either!"

"Hey! I wasn't acting superior at all—"

"Alright, ladies, that's enough." Bumi stepped between them, pushing both aside. "This one was my mistake. Still—Naga's reaction was impressive. Especially for a new recruit to the Avatar Academy."

"Obviously," Korra said with a crooked grin. "She trains with me."

"Well, I'd say she's going to grow into an incredible summon. And the three of you will make an excellent team." Bumi clapped both Korra and Asami on the shoulder.

Korra paled. "Wait—the three of us? Are you serious?"

Bumi ignored her. Turning toward the rest of the class, he clapped loudly to gather everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone! Class isn't over yet. Looks like we'll have to find something else fun to do!"

The north wind had been howling outside the windows for days. Overnight, the Academy uniforms had switched to their autumn–winter styles, and Pema had even knitted a cozy sweater for Korra. Walking across the campus in the early morning, the exposed skin on her cheeks stung slightly from the cold air—but to Korra, who had lived on snowy plains most of her life, it was nothing. At least it wasn't cold enough to snow yet.

Despite the brisk air, there was a bubbling excitement everywhere. Every student wore a grin they couldn't hide—the Avatar Academy was about to break for the ten-day Spirit Festival holiday. Just after lunch on this last day before the break, a procession of ornate carriages rolled into the castle courtyard, ready to ferry the noble kids back to their families.

Asami had decided to take Naga home with her. The thought felt strange the moment it appeared—something that should have been completely natural, if not for Korra's existence. Before it escalated into a fight, she tried to talk to Korra calmly. But no matter what, she was bringing Naga home. She wanted her parents to meet her summon.

"You know... being a summoner is something to be proud of." Asami said, "I want my mom to know that I'm... well... a good one."

Korra didn't respond. She kept her back turned, gently brushing through Naga's fur without a word.

"Or... maybe you could come with me," Asami added quickly, immediately wishing she hadn't. Bringing someone she barely got along with home sounded like trouble in the making.

Korra's hands stilled. "That's your home, not mine," she murmured.

"Well... anyway, I'd like Naga to come with me—"

Korra turned around. Her loose hair cast shadows over her face, and Asami braced herself for the storm she expected.

"You can take Naga home," Korra said quietly.

Asami blinked, surprised. "...Why?"

"You said you wanted to bring Naga home."

"I mean—you didn't even try to ask for her to stay with you."

"Your mom will be proud of you." Korra glanced at Naga. "I know what that feels like—the way your mom hugs you and says, 'I'm so proud of you, sweetheart.'" She paused, a small smile pulled at her lips. "It feels good."

"Korra..." Asami's voice faltered, a bittersweet knot tightening in her chest. Their relationship was a mess, but right now, Korra was just a kid who missed home. Everyone in the Academy had somewhere to return to—for the holidays, for family. Except Korra.

"Enjoy your holiday," Korra said, then turned to Naga. She wrapped her arms around Naga's neck, pressing her forehead against the girl's fur. "I'm gonna miss you, girl."

By nightfall, after the last carriage had rattled away, the Academy fell into a deep, echoing quiet.

Fortunately, Korra wasn't completely alone. The Academy was, after all, the Tenzin family's home—they lived here year-round. She could join them for meals, help Kya tend the herb room, or go hiking with Jinora around the castle grounds.

But even so, nighttime loneliness was hard on a child. Especially when the tower grew so silent that she could hear her own heartbeat. Korra leaned on the windowsill, staring up at the full moon. Is this the same moon I used to see back home? she wondered. It had been more than two months since she first appeared at the Sanctuary—two long months in this unfamiliar world. She didn't know whether her parents were still searching for her... or if they had finally given up. She hoped they had. Because any search would be pointless.

Her thoughts drifted to Naga. If Naga were here, the emptiness wouldn't feel quite so sharp. But then, just thinking about Asami looking sad and down makes her feel even worse. She didn't like that noble girl. Not at all. Bickering with her was practically a daily ritual. Sometimes Korra would even pick fights on purpose, just to rile her up. When Asami and Naga fumbled their coordination during training, Korra felt a shameful flicker of satisfaction.

And yet—there was one thing she couldn't stand.Seeing that girl hurt. Seeing her sad. That would kill her.

On the day of the Spirit Festival, it was said that the king would host a grand banquet in the royal city. As the head of the Avatar Academy, Katara and her family naturally received an invitation—and of course, she hadn't forgotten the child who had come from the Otherworld. So that afternoon, Korra climbed into the carriage with them and set off toward the royal capital.

The whole city—no, the whole kingdom—seemed drunk on festival cheer. Their carriage rolled slowly down the crowded main avenue, past street vendors shouting over each other and bakers pulling fresh loaves from brick ovens. The sweet warmth of bread mixed with the smoky scent of roasted meat and some unfamiliar spice that tickled Korra's nose. As they approached the palace, the crowds faded. A row of beastfolk soldiers guarded the grand gate; after checking their passes and invitations, the soldiers swung the heavy doors open to welcome the guests.

At important social events, adults of status were always busy. The moment Headmaster Katara stepped into the banquet hall, she was swallowed by a tide of eager greetings. The man said to be the king himself practically rushed over to meet her.

"Go enjoy the banquet," Tenzin said to Korra, handing Jinora over to her. "Don't be nervous. All the kids here are the same ones you've seen a hundred times at the Academy. As for the adults... pretend they don't exist."

"Yes, Master Tenzin," Korra said.

She led Jinora away from the wall of nobles arguing loudly about nothing, and the two of them found a quieter corner overflowing with roasted meats, pastries, and fruit. A foxlike beastfolk sommelier padded over and set down two glasses of juice with a polite bow.

"This isn't your first time here, right?" Korra asked.

"No," Jinora said. "As long as I can remember, we've come every year. Except the year I had a fever."

"So... is there usually anything fun to do?"

"Board games," Jinora said, pointing at a group of children gathered on the floor. "Or those building blocks."

"Mm-hmm..." Korra replied without the slightest interest. She popped a piece of steak into her mouth and let her gaze wander—past the children, past the tables, landing right on the cluster of adults.

And she spotted Asami in an instant. Dressed in a soft pink-lavender gown, Asami stood out effortlessly. Her long black hair was tied up with a slender hairpin, two loose strands framing her face. She held her mother's hand, greeting the nobles with a poised, unhurried smile. Then Iroh stepped into view. He said something Korra couldn't hear, then bowed deeply and extended a hand to Asami. Asami placed her hand in his.

The music swelled, and Korra's eyes followed Asami all the way to the dance floor. Her partner moved with steady, practiced steps—older, more experienced, clearly. But Asami matched him flawlessly, her expression focused, every step precise as she followed Iroh's lead.

"You know... Iroh II is the heir to the throne."

The sudden voice at her ear made Korra jump. She turned to see Kya beside her, swirling the wine in her glass.

Kya gave her a sideways glance before continuing, "They might get married someday."

"What?"

"It's normal," Kya said. "Princes marry noble girls. Engagements are usually arranged when they're little."

"So... they're engaged?"

"Not yet," Kya replied. "But everyone knows they like each other."

"Oh. I don't care," Korra said, propping her chin in one hand.

"People who truly don't care," Kya said lightly, "never bother saying 'I don't care.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Korra asked.

But Kya wasn't listening anymore. Her gaze flicked toward the entrance—where Lin stood in full knight's dress uniform, scanning the room. When she spotted Kya, she lifted a hand in greeting.

"Well," Kya said, flashing Korra a grin, "looks like I have a date."

She slipped into the crowd and headed straight for Lin.

Korra's gaze drifted back to Asami. She was still at the dance floor, though her partner had changed—another boy now stood opposite her. When the music came to an end, Asami's cheeks were faintly flushed. She drew in a quiet breath and stepped off the floor toward the resting area. She perched on a tall stool, and almost instantly a circle of boys and girls formed around her, chatting animatedly until a burst of laughter rose from the group.

That was when Korra noticed it: a hand—sneaking up Asami's back. Asami stiffened. She brushed the boy's hand away, but the wretched thing crept forward again, bold and hidden beneath the cover of the crowded room. No one noticed. No one except Korra, watching from afar.

Korra shot to her feet so suddenly that her chair screeched across the floor—though the noise was drowned beneath the roar of conversation and music.

"Korra, what are you —" Jinora called.

But Korra clearly didn't hear her. She strode straight toward Asami, cutting rudely between two nobles mid-conversation. Their drinks sloshed out of their glasses, splattering their expensive clothes. Their refined composure evaporated instantly as they shrieked and spat curses. None of it reached Korra. She saw only the boy.

Coming up behind him—still oblivious, still letting that filthy hand creep forward—Korra didn't hesitate. The next second, the boy went flying. He crashed straight into a beastfolk sommelier and then into a table stacked high with bottles and glassware. Shattered glass exploded across the floor, and a ripple of commotion swept through the hall. The boy clawed his way upright, clutching his hand. Blood streaked down his palm where he'd hit the shards.

"Oh, my darling!" A woman shoved people aside with a shrill cry, seizing the boy's injured hand. Her face twisted into fury as she wrapped it with a handkerchief. Then she spun toward the hall, voice rising to an ear-splitting pitch. "Which bastard dared lay a hand on my son?!"

The crowd split open, leaving Korra standing alone in the center. Her arms hung stiffly at her sides, fists clenched tight.

"Hey! Who are you supposed to be? What gutter did you crawl out of?" the woman shrieked, jabbing a finger right at Korra's face. "Guards! Someone drag this filthy brat out of here!"

Maybe this was the moment she should run, Korra thought. She had no idea who she'd just offended, but anyone attending a royal banquet was probably bad news. Then, a figure stepped in front of her.

"She's my friend," Asami said, standing between Korra and the furious woman. "She was protecting me. Your son was harassing me."

"Harassing?!" The woman barked out a laugh, sharp and ugly. "In a place this crowded? My son merely brushed against you. And you dare call that harassment?"

"Yeah!" the boy yelped, emboldened by his mother's presence. "I just slipped! You have no proof—none!—that I meant anything!"

Asami fell silent. She had no proof. No one did. And the whispers from the onlookers were getting louder.

"Well," Korra murmured, she slowly raised her eyes, her gaze brimming with a defiant and provocative spirit. "I couldn't stand his stupid face. So I kicked him. Because I felt like it. Now—does that make you feel better?"

"You insolent little—!" The woman's whole body trembled with rage as she raised her hand to strike. But before it could fall, Korra slipped sideways between two startled guests—small body, quick reflexes, gone in a blink. She brushed past Tenzin on the way out and winced.

Sigh. Sorry in advance, old man. Guess this mess is yours now.

Korra darted up the stairs to the second-floor terrace. The cold wind blew away the leftover heat from the confrontation. Yeah, she'd been impulsive. But spirits, that kick had felt good.

Footsteps approached from behind—Asami had followed her up. She came to stand beside Korra, breathing a little harder from the climb. "That boy is a general's son," she said quietly.

"A real nightmare to deal with, then?" Korra asked.

"Yes. His father holds a great deal of power."

"So this is where you lecture me about losing my temper?"

Asami shook her head. She turned to look at Korra, emerald eyes softening. She blinked once.

"I wanted to say... thank you."

During the holidays, even the Academy's bell ringer had gone home. With no daily chimes to pull her from sleep, Korra woke instead to a persistent knocking. She figured it was probably Jinora—who else would bother her this early? Still half-asleep, she dragged herself out of bed, yawning so wide her jaw cracked. But the moment she opened the door—A giant blur of white fur launched at her.

Korra toppled backward with a shout as Naga barreled into her, the polar bear–dog's excited weight knocking them both flat onto the wooden floor. Naga wriggled on top of her, tail thumping, tongue leaving a huge wet smear across Korra's cheek.

"Hey, girl!" Korra laughed, burying her hands in Naga's thick winter coat and hugging her with all the strength she had while half-pinned to the floor.

"Good morning, Korra."

The voice made her stiffen for a heartbeat. She craned her neck and saw Asami standing in the doorway, wrapped in a cotton cloak, cheeks rosy from the cold morning air. Of course—Naga wouldn't have come back on her own. 

Naga hopped off to give them space. Asami bent down slightly and offered her hand. Korra hesitated for a breath before taking it.

Korra's hand was warm, probably from just having been under the blankets. The warmth traveled from Asami's fingers up her wrist, lingering longer than it had any right to, as Asami helped pull Korra upright.

Korra dusted off her sleep-rumpled clothes. "If I'm counting right," she said, "today's only the seventh day of break."

"Naga missed you," Asami replied simply.