The training field was a battlefield in miniature.
Dust swirled in the air. Snow had been scorched away in wide arcs. Craters of earth marred the once-flat ground. The scent of ozone and ash hung heavy under the twilight sky.
Korra stood at the center of it all, sweat dripping down her temple, her fists clenched and smoking.
Across from her, Kaiqok's golden cloak shimmered with the form of a lion. His breath was even, controlled. His stance? Perfect.
She hated that.
"Again!" Korra shouted.
Kaiqok tilted his head. "You're pushing too hard."
"That's the point!" She bent her knees, water rising from the snowbanks around her. It spiraled into twin whips in each hand. "I need to learn how to fight when I'm angry. Because when the time comes, I won't get to breathe or think—I'll have to react."
Kaiqok didn't argue. He knew that tone—sharp, emotional, reckless.
She charged first.
Whips lashed out, water freezing and heating mid-air, shifting forms with every step. She spun, using airbending to pivot with impossible speed. Her attacks were wild but full of fury.
Kaiqok ducked, then blocked. His lion form darted forward, claws outstretched. He didn't strike—he guided. Redirected.
It was almost insulting how easily he danced around her.
Korra screamed, unleashing a burst of flame from her fists.
He took the blow this time.
The fire singed his chakra cloak, but he held his ground, gripping her wrist and spinning her off balance.
She landed hard, snow exploding around her.
"You're not angry at me," he said, calm and cool. "So stop pretending like I'm the enemy."
She stared up at him, breathing hard. Her lip quivered.
"I am angry at you."
He blinked, startled.
Korra sat up, wiping a tear away roughly. "You're always so controlled. So calm. Even when I'm falling apart, you act like nothing can touch you."
Kaiqok's expression softened. "I'm not calm. I'm scared, Korra. Every day."
She looked at him.
"I'm scared of what I saw. I'm scared of what you'll face. I'm scared of losing you before I get the chance to… to truly know you."
Korra swallowed. "Then fight me like you mean it."
"…You want me to unleash everything?"
She stood, eyes blazing. "No holding back."
Kaiqok's eyes narrowed, but this time, they glowed faint gold.
"Alright," he said, stepping back. "Let's see what happens when we stop pulling punches."
The chakra cloak pulsed—and in an instant, his body was wrapped in a new form: a majestic dragon.
His wings stretched wide, radiant with shifting colors of chakra, flame trailing from his claws. The snow around him melted in a radius, steam hissing into the air.
Korra's heart skipped a beat.
Then she grinned.
She called on every element.
The ground trembled.
Fire erupted from one hand, water spiraled in the other. Air spun around her like a vortex, and stone lifted beneath her feet. Her eyes glowed faintly—not the full Avatar State, but something closer now. Something beginning.
And then they clashed.
Dragon-fire met Avatar fury.
The explosion of light was blinding. Shockwaves blasted snow into the sky. Trees shook. Spirit energy crackled along the ground.
They moved like gods at war—dancing through the elements. Fire against fire, water against lightning, air splitting earth. Kaiqok roared, his dragon form diving, while Korra leapt into the sky, riding on a platform of wind and flame.
At some point, they weren't fighting anymore.
They were testing. Learning each other through the chaos. Matching each other's rhythm.
Kaiqok shifted from dragon to phoenix to wolf, each form a new tempo, a new strategy. Korra matched him—her bending more fluid than ever before. No wasted motion. Just pure instinct.
Until they both stood, panting, chests heaving, eyes wide.
Snow drifted down again.
They had burned out the storm.
"…I think," Korra wheezed, "I just bended lightning… for the first time."
Kaiqok grinned despite himself. "Yeah. You definitely did."
She looked at her hand, where blue sparks flickered. Then she looked at him.
And she laughed.
Not a bitter laugh. Not sarcastic. Just free.
She fell back into the snow and breathed.
"That was incredible," she said.
He joined her on the ground. "You've come a long way. You didn't just fight—you adapted. That's what makes a true Avatar."
She turned her head, looking at him. "And what makes a true protector?"
He looked up at the sky. "Someone willing to lose to help someone else win."
Their hands brushed in the snow. Neither pulled away.
After a long silence, Korra whispered, "I'm not scared anymore."
Kaiqok turned toward her. "Because you're stronger?"
"No," she said. "Because I'm not alone."
The words settled between them like a promise.
But somewhere, in the deep shadows beyond the mountains, a different promise stirred.
A masked figure stood over a cracked mirror of ice.
Within it, he saw the pair—golden dragon and blooming Avatar—growing closer with each clash.
And he whispered:
"It begins."