A World Of Grey (Legend of Korra)

Chapter 12

She walked along the beach, her stride slow and measured. Her hair fell to brush along her shoulders, and the hem of her shift, a colour to match that of her eyes, fluttered just above her knees. Her skin was kissed by the warmth of a perpetually fading sun, her feet sinking with each step into the sand beneath them. The sounds of the sea, of the water being gently pushed and pulled, soothed her. And so she continued to walk, no particular destination in mind, no particular question heavy upon her thoughts. She had come here simply to find peace, to escape from the small, whispering voices within her. She was once told that this would be good for her, when she found that she was restless.

And so she walked.

An alien sound began to perturb her, a tapping that most certainly did not belong, metallic in its nature. Her expression was fashioned into a frown as it began to louden, scratching against the pleasant murmur of her sanctuary. She could not ignore it, nor shake the feeling that she ought to waken, and soon.

She did not wish to return to herself just yet. She fought, but the desire to remain was steadily waning, and in its place was something that whispered instinctual caution. As she began to listen to that voice and the metallic tapping grew clearer to her ear, she felt her form lighten. The burnished gold of the sun, the soft brown of the sand and the vibrant hue of the ocean – all these things began to swiftly lose their lustre, growing ever less tangible and fading to darkness as she drew herself away.

Weight and awareness swiftly settled upon her, and she found herself sitting with her legs folded and her fists lightly touching. Her eyes flashed open and she turned her ear towards the source of the noise. It was coming from the front door. Specifically, it appeared to be coming from the keyhole, as though something was rummaging around inside of it, searching for something. Her eyes narrowed. After another moment, she quickly and quietly drew herself up onto her feet.

The apartment was a single room, the bedroom the kitchen and the kitchen the living room. All contained within a space that was relatively square in shape, the front door was obscured from her position next to the small bed by a section of wall that jutted forwards into the room, providing a corner that she would later make it a habit to check whenever she stepped into the apartment. It was to here that she tiptoed now, crouching low and moving as swiftly as she dared.

Someone was picking the lock to her front door. Someone was trying to break into her home.

This thought and it alone circled through her mind as she tucked herself against the wall. She could hear her heart thumping in her ear, powerfully aware of its rhythm within her chest. As she heard the lock click open, she began to realise that she was afraid. She lived alone; she could have been sleeping, dead to the world. She had been warned, warned that this city was not like the one she had left behind, that its souls were braver and the arm of the law not long enough to reach them all.

Her heart was beating so fast, so hard. Her throat was dry, and she was trembling. She heard the handle turn, the creak of the door as it was pushed open softened by the patience of the one who stood behind it. She swallowed, clenching down on her teeth. Her jaw tightened until it began to ache. Adrenaline surged through her as the door was pushed shut. She heard footsteps approaching, light and careful. She moved the moment an arm swung into view.

She was swift and ruthless. Fear sharpened the instinct to fight, to survive. Her left hand closed around a wrist. Her right crashed into a cheek. The man reeled, staggering. He cried out when her wrist rotated. She pulled his arm behind his back. Twisted hard. Her fingers were at the back of his neck, curling like claws. She took his feet out from underneath him, driving him to the floor. She had a knee pressed into his back and the side of his face pressed into the floorboards.