A/N: Alright, here's part two! This is also the final part of this story. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: there are mentions of miscarriage. Nothing explicit, though.

On the Edge of Damnation

Part II

"Aw, man!" came a nervous squeak. "We're not supposed to be here!"

Kuvira frowned at the clump of bushes, from which a tiny voice had emerged for the umpteenth time while she and Baatar rested in the grass. It was obvious that there were spirits hiding in them, but after the first voice had started freaking out, she and Baatar made an unspoken agreement to leave whoever it was alone. If the spirits didn't want to be bothered, then she had no reason to bother them.

It was getting a little annoying, though. She was willing to look the other way while the spirits snuck off, but they never did (even though she did deliberately look away for ten minutes at a time, waiting for the spirits to seize their chance). There was no sign of them leaving, and she was starting to think that the spirits didn't actually want to stop spying on her and Baatar, but were acting nervous about it so as to keep them from doing anything aggressive.

"We should probably get moving," she said to Baatar, a little more loudly than necessary. He nodded, also glancing at the shrubs, both of them waiting to see what move the spirits would make in response to them leaving. Kuvira moved more slowly than usual when she stood up, taking a moment to stretch and feel muscles and joints pop. She didn't miss the way Baatar's eyes followed her movements, but she did nothing to encourage it, either. They still weren't comfortable with each other.

They were just a few paces away from their resting place when another of the voices cried, "Wait!"

Kuvira couldn't stop herself from smirking a little, looking back to see a few tiny wood spirits venturing out for the first time. One was a pink bird, another had four arms, and the third looked like a tree stump (and hobbled around with more difficulty than the other two). She folded her arms, raising an eyebrow.

The one with four arms folded both sets of hands. "Could you… help us?"

The bird pecked it. "Shh, stupid! Don't you know who they are? They're about the least-spirity humans you could find! They're pure evil."

"Uh, then how did they end up in the spirit world?"

"I told you," moaned the stump. "We're not supposed to be here…"

Kuvira and Baatar exchanged bemused looks. Learning to become patient with herself meant that Kuvira was much more patient with others, so she simply waited while the three spirits hemmed and hawed amongst themselves, each trying to shove the other in front so that they didn't have to be the one to actually address her and Baatar. Eventually, the one with four arms was the spirit to step up (again), while the bird hid its face behind a wing and the stump slumped to the ground.

"We're lost," the little thing proclaimed.

"Isn't the spirit world your home?" asked Baatar.

"Hey!" squawked the bird. "You humans get lost in the material world often enough, yeah? Don't act like it's impossible for us!"

"If that's the case, you're probably not better off following us," Kuvira said. "We're in the middle of walking penance road right now, and I doubt you want to be trailing behind us when we run into whatever else this place has in store for us."

"See? I told you," said the stump. "That's Kuvira and Baatar Jr. Those are the guys who attacked the spirit vines!"

The four armed one shrugged. "I don't remember that."

The bird whacked its head into the ground.

Kuvira sighed, keeping a respectable distance but kneeling down to their level. "I'm not sure of how much help we could be," she explained. "As your friend said, we're about the least-spirity humans around. We don't know our way around any better than you do, and I'm pretty sure out path is set out for us anyway. You're probably better off picking any direction except the one we choose, and hoping for the best." She paused. "Except that way."

She pointed back the direction they'd come from.

"Why?" asked the four-armed spirit. "What's back there?"

"A big, scary monster," answered Baatar. He knelt next to Kuvira, leaning over so that only she could hear. "What if we're meant to help them, Kuvira?"

She glanced at him. That was a thought— perhaps helping these three little spirits was another task or test that she and Baatar had to overcome before they were permitted to leave the spirit world. It was strange to think about— she'd grown so used to thinking of herself helping the masses of citizens in the Earth Empire that she forgot what it was like to help individuals at all. The closest she'd come since leaving her prison was to help Baatar through this place— and that didn't really count, since he'd been helping her just as much (even if he didn't know it).

She looked at the spirits. "Where are you trying to go?" she asked.

The bird looked at her suspiciously. "We were trying to get to the tree of time," it replied. "We're not sure how we ended up here. If you manage to get us to a big mountain with blue flowers growing on it, though, then we'll know where we are. There are a couple of other places too— if we recognized them, we'd tell you. But that doesn't mean we need your help!"

"We kind of do, though," said the stump.

"Ugh, make up your mind! Are you on my side or not?"

"So, we're looking for a mountain with blue flowers?" asked Baatar.

"Yep!" piped up the four-armed one. "That'll work!"

It seemed reasonable enough. Kuvira asked, "May we know your names, since you know ours?"

"No!"

"I'm Rafflin."

"…Barke."

Both the stump (Barke) and the four-armed one (Rafflin) looked at the bird, who angrily shuffled its feet before muttering, "Stingwing."

Kuvira and Baatar both bowed, forming the sign of respect with their hands. That, at least, seemed to mollify Stingwing somewhat. Rafflin beamed at them.

"See? They're nice."

"So…" Barke moved closer. "Where do we go?"

"Thus far, our philosophy has been to pick a direction and walk," Baatar replied. At Kuvira's look, he shrugged. "We aren't going to get anywhere by lying. And we've already told them that we have no idea where we are. The very least we can do is protect them on their way."

He had a point.

"How are you gonna protect us?" asked Stingwing. "You can't even bend here. And considering that you're the least spirity people ever, you don't have the kind of power that the Avatar has."

Kuvira nodded. "That's true. I've witnessed the Avatar's power firsthand. She used it to save my life, and countless others. But I can promise that I'll do everything within my power to see you safely on your way. While that may not seem like much, I've often found that a little determination can go a long way to accomplishing your goals— no matter how distant those goals may seem."

Rafflin gaped at her in awe. Barke didn't seem to be paying attention anymore, while Stingwing grumbled something but didn't complain. Kuvira indicated that they would go in the opposite direction of the light; there was still no sign of any sun, but the purple glare seemed strongest to the left, and so they headed away from that direction. Baatar once again caught up to her, muttering for her ears only.

"Nice inspirational speech."

She elbowed him, but couldn't seem to stop her smile.

Once the spirits got the gist of where they were headed, they hopped in front of the two of them, chattering amongst themselves. Kuvira could barely follow the conversation, but she caught some strange phrases that she'd never heard before and couldn't make heads or tails of. Of the three, Rafflin seemed the picture of endless optimism, as though it believed that nothing bad could possibly happen. Stingwing suited his name a little too well, muttering jabs about Kuvira and Baatar most of the way. Barke was silent, apart from an occasional input in what Stingwing or Rafflin were saying. Back in her days as the Great Uniter, Kuvira might have found their jibber-jabber annoying, but at the moment she preferred it to Koh's ghastly presence, or the silence of the desert.

They eventually came across a small creek, running between two hills. Rafflin splashed in without a second thought, leaving Kuvira to keep a wary eye on it so that the spirit didn't somehow get swept away by the current. The little thing looked chubbier than both Barke and Stingwing, but for some reason Kuvira had a feeling that it was lighter than its companions. Stingwing contented itself with placing both its stick-like feet in the water, and Barke settled in the center of the stream, humming.

Kuvira and Baatar settled themselves a little way back, with Kuvira still watching Rafflin.

"To think we might've destroyed this," she murmured, mostly to herself.

"Mm," Baatar agreed, startling her. "I didn't really appreciate the evil science was capable of, until I really started looking at the destruction of Republic City. Once I believed it was our duty to follow a discovery until all possibilities were mapped out and measured, but now… now it seems like most of it wasn't worth it. Who will be there to keep people like us in check? The ones who get too curious for their own good, I mean."

Kuvira, it seemed, was never sure of what to say to him. Testing the waters, she started with, "I pushed you to that, Baatar."

"No you didn't."

The bitterness in his voice nearly made her recoil, until she realized that it wasn't bitterness towards her.

"When I looked at the spirit vine project, I didn't see a weapon," Baatar said. "All I saw was an opportunity. A way to change the world for the better. With that kind of technology, our ability to protect the empire would be absolute— no nation would dare to challenge us and cross our borders. I saw a beacon of hope. I saw a way that we could provide security the likes of which the world had never seen."

Kuvira laughed. "I didn't. I saw a way to spread our 'enlightenment' to the rest of the world. If Avatar Korra hadn't stopped me in Republic City, who knows what I would have done next— invaded the Fire Nation? Reduced the water tribes to shattered ice? Enslaved the air nomads, as Hou Ting once dared to do?"

"But which is worse?" Baatar looked at her, something like despair and confusion in his gaze. "Willing blindness, or cold reality?"

Maybe, those two years in prison, Kuvira had convinced herself that she really had brainwashed Baatar into working for her as long as he did— into loving her. She had convinced herself that he followed her only because she fed his sense of self-worth in a way that his family never did, and in return she had his undying loyalty and support, even when few others gave that to her. She'd convinced herself that he was eventually blinded to what he was doing by his love for her.

Now she understood— that hadn't been the case at all.

"If they had let me out—" She swallowed, her throat going dry. "If they had let me out during your trial, to testify, I would have said I forced you into it. I would have told them all that. But that was never what you wanted, was it?"

It was risky, implying that he had wanted punishment. For some reason, however, it worked better than any of her previous attempts at reconciliation.

"No," he admitted. "Do you remember— near the factory outside Zaofu, when we were first testing the weapon, and I told you to stop the test?"

"Yes. You never told me why."

"I looked through the telescope." He swallowed, looking stricken. "And I saw Opal. Opal, who was trying to rescue Zhu Li. I have never been more grateful for anything in my life than I was when Aunt Lin and Mother knocked the beam off-course. I was never more grateful than I was when I realized I wasn't responsible for my little sister's death."

Kuvira could understand that. That had been month number five of her imprisonment— silently thanking whatever spirits hadn't forsaken her that every one of her beams missed the children of the Air Nation, and that of all that could have died in her attack, there was only one casualty. And then there were other nights, when she wept bitterly for Asami Sato's loss in spite of the fact that it was not hers to weep over. No doubt Miss Sato would have strangled her, had she known.

She nearly did, the one night (day?) she visited.

"But I won't," Sato had said. "I won't, because I'm never going to stoop to your level."

Now all Kuvira could say was, "I'm grateful, too."

"Oof!" Without warning, Rafflin bounced to the ground in front of Kuvira, flopping onto its back. "I'm tired."

Kuvira was surprised to find herself chuckling. "Maybe you shouldn't have played so long, little one."

"Who're you calling little?" barked Stingwing.

"You," Baatar responded.

"I'm sleepy," mumbled Rafflin. Kuvira almost missed the worried looks that Barke and Stingwing exchanged with one another. Neither of them looked any different than when Baatar and Kuvira had first discovered them— in fact, time in the stream seemed to have bolstered Barke until he looked larger, and more fully grown. She found herself frowning— what could be wrong this time?

"Would it be alright if I carried you?" she asked Rafflin. (It didn't escape her that she and Baatar didn't even belong in the spirit world, and they had yet to grow tired as well.) She half expected Stingwing to offer up some kind of objection to her suggestion, but to her surprise the bird spirit stayed silent.

"Mm-hmm," Rafflin said. "That's fine."

Kuvira carefully gathered the four-armed spirit into her arms, arranging it so that it would be as comfortable as possible. She couldn't stop the warm feeling that spread through her when it burrowed its head into her bicep, as though it was taking comfort from her. The idea itself was a shock— seeing it actually happen was even more of one. She looked up to see Baatar watching her with an unreadable gaze.

Suddenly nervous, Kuvira breathed in deeply. "Do either of you need any help?" she asked the other two spirits.

Both shook their heads.

The purple light was beginning to fade when they started off again, but Kuvira thought she could see a tree line in the distance— one that was much less foreboding than the one they had left behind after exiting Koh's domain. Unlike before, Stingwing was silent the entire way, and because Stingwing didn't speak, Barke did not speak. She could sense the worry radiating from the two spirits, and had a feeling that it had something to do with Rafflin's sudden lethargy. Her earlier suspicions had been confirmed when she'd picked Rafflin up— it was much lighter than she might have expected just by looking at it.

The forest they entered was a bit more like a normal forest— pines surrounded them, like the Earth Kingdom forests in the north, but the needles were soft beneath their feet. Rafflin didn't stir once, and Kuvira found herself sharing the worry that Stingwing and Barke had. She couldn't think what could be wrong with the spirit, or why the others weren't affected by it.

"Would you like me to carry it for a while?" Baatar asked. Kuvira was tempted to refuse, but she took one look at his face, and then passed the spirit to him wordlessly. He was as gentle as she had been, if not more so, and she saw that he was as worried for Rafflin as the rest of them were.

Knowing that the little spirit was in safe hands (for now), she offered to scout ahead. This time Stingwing did protest, but Baatar quickly countered it.

"She's made me a promise," he said. "I know she won't break it."

Stingwing turned its glare on Kuvira, but she held it until the spirit looked away.

The last thing she heard was it muttering, "How are humans this stubborn?"

Kuvira ran through the trees without abandon, the feeling of freedom far overshadowing any tiredness she might've felt. Every so often she stopped and marked a tree with a cross to guide her on her way back, silently apologizing to each tree she marked. Even without her bending she felt like she was somehow powerful in this place, where the earth felt whole beneath her feet and her senses were sharp.

The trees came to an abrupt end after about an hour of running through them, after which she found herself staring at a mountain with blue flowers growing on its slopes. She marveled at their luck in picking the right direction to where the three spirits wanted to go, then maybe considered that it hadn't been luck at all.

It wouldn't be so terrible, she thought, to stay here.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, however, Kuvira banished it from her head. Even when she had been the Great Uniter— even before then, she had never run from anything in her life. The last thing she was going to run away from was her own fate, whatever it might be. Even though she had no doubt that mistrust in her would be heightened even more, once she and Baatar returned to the physical world, she could not afford to run from it. This was only the punishment from the spirits. She still had a penance to pay to humans as well.

(And that was far more personal, and painful, but she would face it nonetheless.)

Turning back, she hurried the way she'd come, although her search for the trees she'd marked meant that the going was slower than before. After what seemed like another two hours of running, she almost crashed into Stingwing, narrowly avoiding it by leaping up and into a neat forward roll, managing to somehow land on her feet. Barke yelped, and Stingwing squawked again.

"I've found your mountain," she said.

Clearly, that wasn't what Stingwing had been expecting. "Oh," it said, after a moment. "Well… good. We need to get there as quickly as possible."

Kuvira looked at Baatar, who was still carrying Rafflin. He shook his head. "Rafflin hasn't woken up," he announced. "Maybe you two could explain to us what's wrong."

"Look, we just need to get to the top of the mountain," snapped Stingwing. "The Tree of Time would've been better, but the mountain'll do. After that, everything's going to be fine. You two can go on your merry way and do… whatever it is you're supposed to do."

Kuvira shook her head, wondering if there was any point in arguing. "I'll take Rafflin," she muttered quietly, grateful when Baatar didn't protest, instead passing the weak spirit back to her. They trooped wordlessly through the rest of the wood, with both spirits hopping in front of them impatiently. Kuvira found herself increasing their pace, but doing so didn't really matter; it was hard for her to tire here. Which only made her more aware of the fact that Rafflin kept weakening.

It seemed to take them forever to reach the base of the mountain— far longer than it had taken Kuvira to get there initially. Stingwing and Barke started to hop up the slopes of it without even pausing, but Kuvira halted for a moment when Rafflin stirred. She waved for Baatar to go on ahead, not wanting to jostle the spirit too much if it was waking up.

"It was the metal things," it murmured, blinking up at her. "The metal things hurt us."

Kuvira's heart clenched. She had a feeling that she knew what it was talking about. Rafflin's eyes slid closed again, only this time the 'sleep' seemed more unnatural than before. Kuvira blinked, realizing that she could see her arms through its body, and she knew that they were running out of time.

She ran to catch up with the others, but she didn't stop running once she had. Instead she kept going, determination helping her keep pace, ignoring the alarmed look Baatar sent after her. Both Stingwing and Barke gave indignant cries when they noticed her, trying in vain to pick up the pace to catch up to her. Kuvira didn't care. She kept running.

The mountain slope leveled out, until she found herself on the edge of a pool of water.

"Is this going to help?" she murmured to herself.

"That's what we were hoping," panted Stingwing, pulling itself up after her. "There are stories about how this water is supposed to restore spiritual properties. Like I said— the Tree of Time would've been better, but this was the next best thing. If it can't help Rafflin, well… there's no time to get to the Tree now."

Kuvira frowned. "Do we just put Rafflin in the water?"

"No, that's dumb."

She rolled her eyes.

"There's someone here who can help us," Stingwing continued, just as Baatar and Barke joined them. "I don't know where she is, but—"

"I am not sure of what aid I can be, Stingwing."

Kuvira started, not having noticed the woman who was suddenly next to her. She was obviously a spirit, wreathed in some kind of opaque cloth that looked more like mist. Her face and body was adorned with red paint, but for someone so beautiful, her visage was alarmingly sad.

She gestured to Rafflin. "The damage done to this spirit's connection with existence was extensive. I have seen cases like this before, where the spirit is beyond my reach. I can try to heal him, little ones, but I cannot promise you that I will succeed."

"Please, Painted Lady?" Barke begged. "Rafflin's our friend. He's been losing himself for a while now— but it took him longer than it took some of the other spirits, so I know that he can make it. Please!"

"Very well. Place him in the water." This instruction was given to Kuvira, who obeyed without questioning. "Before we begin, I must ask— how did you convince the creators of Rafflin's suffering to help you?"

"So it was us," Kuvira said. "I wondered. Rafflin said 'the metal things'— meaning the saws we used to harvest vines for the spirit weapon, I'm guessing."

It was another thing to add— to all of the horror she'd inflicted. Rafflin was dying because of her.

"Your actions did not come without a price," warned the Painted Lady. "Many more spirits like Rafflin faded from our world, their spiritual connection severed. I have had many come here in search of my aid. Many others went to the Tree of Time, as that place is stronger, but even then there were some who could not make it, and passed into the void. Rafflin's resilience surprises me, as most who were affected have already either been helped or passed beyond help."

"They didn't convince us, we… volunteered."

"We were told that we might find help," Barke said, speaking for the first time. "We weren't told who would help us."

"We certainly didn't expect it from them," added Stingwing.

"Hm." The Painted Lady looked at her with eyes that made Kuvira think of rivers. "Place Rafflin in the water, Kuvira."

By now used to every spirit knowing who she was, Kuvira did as she was told. The little spirit didn't stir when it touched the surface of the pool, and she was silently thankful that it floated instead of sinking like a stone. She backed away from the pool's edge as the Painted Lady stepped forward, raising her hands in a gesture that Kuvira thought she recognized from the waterbender healer who had tended to her wounds shortly after her surrender. She hardly noticed when Baatar moved to stand next to her, or when Barke and Stingwing did the same on the other side.

I did this, she thought. Rafflin was innocent. I did this.

The saws had cut deep into the tree in the swamp, and she hadn't even flinched.

Some of the transparency of Rafflin began to lessen, but it didn't leave his body entirely, and one glance at the Painted Lady's face told Kuvira that she was beginning to feel strained by her task. The entire time, Rafflin did not move or wake up.

Eventually, the water spirit's arms dropped to her sides, and she turned to look at Stingwing and Barke, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

"No…" mumbled Barke, but Stingwing rounded on Kuvira and Baatar.

"This is your fault!" it shrieked. "Yours! You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? You couldn't just be happy with the power that you had, could you? Stupid humans, always looking for more. That's what Sozin did. That's what Ozai did. That's what Unalaq did, and he made us suffer even more than you did, but oh, it was close."

Kuvira felt a wave of shame and bitterness wash over her. She looked out over the pool, and saw the Great Uniter staring at her from the opposite side. Her gaze was non-judgmental, but it was also… cold. Careless. An iron façade, one that had seemed necessary at the time. She felt fear begin to take hold of her again, because she didn't think she could handle facing that monster right now.

I don't need the façade, she thought. She straightened.

"All due respect, Painted Lady," she said, "but that can't be all."

"I have done everything I can, Kuvira," the Painted Lady said, sounding truly angry for the first time.

"And what about what I can do?" demanded Kuvira. The other spirit looked taken aback. "You're a healer. A master healer, if your reputation is anything to go by. We can't always fix things on our own, with rest and recuperation. Sometimes outside help is needed. Use me."

"Kuvira," Baatar said, but he fell silent. She didn't even have to look at him.

The Painted Lady now looked thoughtful. "I am not certain of how I would be able to use you to heal Rafflin," she said. "I could possibly convert your energy into enough spiritual energy to mend his link with our world, but that would come at a cost to you. I do not know how great of one."

"Do it."

"Are you certain that this is what you want?"

Kuvira shook her head. "What I want doesn't matter." She sent a challenging look to her doppelganger on the far side, who curled her lip in response. She'd spent two years thinking about ways she could try to atone for her sins. This wasn't how she expected to start, but she wasn't about to let another die because of her crusade.

"One life," the Painted Lady murmured. "When there are so many more who suffered. Is it worth it?"

Kuvira just looked at her.

"If I may, I'd like to help as well," Baatar said.

Kuvira's lips were already forming the shape of the word 'no', but he laid a hand on her arm, surprising her. "I don't need your protection," he muttered. Now he sounded angry. "You don't control me. You never did. You can't now, either."

"I am afraid she's right, Baatar," the Painted Lady interjected. "Channeling two energies at once is beyond me, stopping in the middle so that you can replace her is more dangerous than you know. It must be either one or neither of you."

Kuvira nodded. "What do I have to do?"

"Merely stand in the water."

She stepped forward, noticing with a chill that the water felt neither warm nor cold when her feet became submerged. She locked eyes with the Great Uniter on the other bank and didn't look away, unwilling to give the doppelganger the satisfaction of seeing her falter. Try as she might, however, she couldn't quite convince herself that she wasn't afraid— of what might happen, or of what she herself would do if her doppelganger decided to attack her like it had in the desert.

"I do not know how this will feel," the Painted Lady warned, "but try to relax."

Encouraging, Kuvira was tempted to say, but the shock of sensation that hit her next kept her from speaking. The image of her old self flickered and faded away, replaced by flashes of what seemed like a nightmare. The taste of blood filled her mouth, making her realizing that she was biting her tongue to keep from screaming, and she had to force her jaw to unclench.

It wasn't… pain, exactly. More like a yawning pit had opened up somewhere in her stomach and she was falling down it, over and over and with increasing speed. She felt that she would fall down into the water at any moment, but she miraculously managed to stay upright the entire time. All the while she had vague visions of screeching metal and phantom pain, and cries coming from all around her of what she knew must've been other spirits.

Suddenly, her other self was right in front of her. She grasped Kuvira's shoulder firmly, in a way that Kuvira herself had often done when she was trying to be 'diplomatic'.

"What good is it?" her doppelganger asked. "Saving one life? It's nothing compared to the others you've taken. Let's not forget the countless who were hurt as well. And it got you nothing— two years in prison, without friends, without family—"

"Like we had anything better," Kuvira snarled back.

"We had Baatar," the Great Uniter responded, but her smirk was cruel, not of a woman in love. "We had people who were loyal, in spite of everything we did. And you went and you threw it all away, and for what? Those weeks where you didn't eat, and barely slept? The months after, where exercise became your daily regimen instead of actually making a difference in your nation?"

The smirk widened, and Kuvira already knew what it was going to say. "Don't—"

"For a child that bled out of your womb, four months too soon?"

Kuvira let out a strangled cry of grief and fury, but suddenly the image was gone, and the water of the pool came rushing up to greet her instead.

Waking up was unpleasant.

For one thing, Kuvira was soaked. And considering her prison clothes were cheaply made, they didn't dry well. For another, she felt as though she'd been run over by a one of Varrick's magnet trains. She winced as the thought pulled up a memory of a group of bandits she'd once threatened. Her muscles felt weighed down as she tried to move, forcing herself into a sitting position.

The Great Uniter was gone. She was on the edge of the pool. Rafflin was sitting next to her, his two friends a little ways behind him. She craned her neck around, looking for Baatar, only to find him speaking quietly with the Painted Lady. Neither of them seemed to notice that she was awake.

"I remember everything now," Rafflin said.

"I'm so sorry. I can't ask your forgiveness."

"Maybe not." The spirit smiled. "But I can give it."

Kuvira's heart leapt into her throat. "What?"

"I can't speak for other spirits, but I forgive you. And thank you for what you've done for me. Maybe it won't make up for everything else you've done, but… thank you."

Stingwing and Barke shuffled closer. "We forgive you, too."

"You saved our friend," whispered Barke. "That's…"

"Good," finished Stingwing. "Who would've thought?"

Kuvira forced herself into a kneeling position, bowing her head until her forehead was pressed into the grass. Three years ago, she never would have been able to picture herself bowing to spirits— especially ones that seemed as tiny as these three, but now she couldn't think of any beings more deserving of her respect. She thought she felt a tiny hand pat the back of her head.

"We should go," Rafflin said. "We really aren't supposed to be here."

"Yeah," agreed Stingwing. "We know the way now."

"Of course," Kuvira said, rising again. She stayed kneeling while the three trotted off down the other side of the mountain, watching them go and taking the moment to catch her breath while she gathered her strength to stand. Baatar and the Painted Lady finished their conversation and started to make their way over to her, and she found herself accepting his help in getting both feet on the ground.

"You may be feeling the effects for a while," the Painted Lady warned. "I do not know how long. And… I cannot say exactly how much, but your life force was channeled into healing Rafflin. If you were to age naturally until death…"

"I would die earlier than before," Kuvira finished.

"Yes." The Painted Lady paused, a shadow crossing over her face. "One other thing… those spirits may have forgiven you, but I have not, and there are others who have not, or never will. However… I am sorry for your loss, child."

Kuvira tensed at the reminder. The Painted Lady turned from them and faded away, like she was part of the wind. In a way that they hadn't when her copy reminded her of it in the vision, all of the memories from that day came back in a rush— the way she'd been too shocked to do anything until the pain overcame her, the smell and sight of blood, the way her grief had clawed its way out of her and she'd curled in on herself. The medics had had to come back in again, just to force her to eat. They had to sedate her to get her to sleep, too.

She almost shuddered, but didn't on the slim chance that Baatar still didn't know. One glance at his face told her otherwise.

"Come on," he said. He sounded about as choked as she felt.

He didn't say anything else as they started their descent from the mountain, for which Kuvira was grateful. He supported her with one arm over his shoulder, at least until she was able to figure out how to put one foot in front of the other and stagger upright. Even then it was slow going, since her steps only seemed to cover a few inches each and lifting her feet was exhausting. The revelation lay heavy in the air between them, until Kuvira could no longer stand it.

"The Painted Lady told you?" she asked.

"No," he said. "You were speaking while the Painted Lady was doing the transfer, and I managed to put two and two together from what you said, and from what Koh said earlier. I asked the Painted Lady if she'd sensed anything… off, with regards to that. She was reluctant to reveal anything at first, but eventually she admitted that you'd been pregnant and had… lost the baby."

"I didn't know." It started spilling out of her, like word-vomit. "I didn't know I was pregnant, Baatar. I… wasn't exactly taking care of myself. Still, it was something that I should have realized was a possibility. Something I should've noticed, spirits, but my cycle was the last thing on my mind…" She took a deep breath, relying yet again on her poor meditative techniques, but her resolve was quickly crumbling.

She'd stopped walking. She didn't remember doing that. She knew that she should've kept going, but she couldn't really bring herself to move.

Baatar pulled her against him before she could say anything else, and this time there was no pretense of helping her stand. She stiffened for a moment at the unexpected contact, but allowed herself to sag against him a moment later, closing her eyes and steadying her breathing. Her eyes were dry, and she wasn't shaking, but she appreciated the moment nonetheless. She could pretend, for just a bit, that things were like they used to be between them. They weren't— Baatar was still too hurt and angry for that.

There's so much, she thought, that I believed I'd come to terms with in prison. What a fool I was.

Kuvira didn't know how long they stayed that way, but it was Baatar who moved away first. His silent comfort meant more to her than any words could've, but she was at a loss of how to convey her gratitude; the most she could do was grab his hand and squeeze it quickly, before setting off at a more determined pace. She thought she could feel the beginnings of her strength returning, finally.

When they got to the base of the mountain, it was to find themselves at the edge of a cliff.

"Dead end," Baatar commented.

"It would seem so," Kuvira said, frowning. They couldn't see the bottom, owing to a thick mist that hovered over the area, but her instincts were telling her to run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

"This is the end," came Zaheer's voice. "For you."

Baatar yelled in alarm when the Red Lotus leader kicked him from behind, sending him tumbling over the edge. Kuvira twisted out of the way and rolled underneath another of Zaheer's strikes, but she was primarily a metalbender— not a martial artist, like Zaheer had been before becoming an airbender— and she was still weak from saving Rafflin. Before she could dodge another strike or fight back, he hauled her up by her waist and threw her, bodily, into the mist.

It was a while before she hit the ground. Spirits, it hurt, and it took ages before she could stand up again.

"Baatar?" she called, cursing herself for letting her voice crack.

No answer. He couldn't have been far, but… this damn fog. Kuvira started walking (it was always walking), hoping to find the edge of the cliff again so that she could have something to follow, but was distracted by a noise coming from somewhere near her. She frowned, angling in the direction she thought it was coming from, and started to follow it. She quickened her pace when she realized it was a child, crying.

"Hello?" she called. "Are you alright?"

There was a huddled form somewhere in front of her. Kuvira was just able to make it out when she recoiled, shocked.

"Mommy, Daddy," the girl whimpered. "Where are you?" She looked up at Kuvira. "Where did they go?"

"I-I…"

The girl stared at her with huge, wet eyes. She sniffed. Her clothes were ratty and filthy, and there were scratches on her face and a bruise was forming under her left eye. Then, suddenly, Kuvira was looking down at herself, the way she'd been just after she and Korra were blasted into the Spirit World. Still kneeling, still curled in on herself for protection, holding onto her right side, where her broken ribs were.

"This isn't what I wanted," she whispered. "It didn't have to happen this way."

Kuvira knew what to say this time. "We brought this on ourselves."

Her other self laughed, a horrible, rattling sound that obviously pained her. Then it was like watching herself go back in time, as the broken, defeated Kuvira slowly stood, her torn and tattered uniform fixing itself as she watched. She straightened fully, her side no longer hurting her, as the escaped hair forced itself back into its bun. It was, for some reason, one of the most disturbing things that Kuvira ever watched, and she backed away slowly as the fear from before returned.

"Is this it?" the Great Uniter demanded. "Is this what becomes of Kuvira, the Great Uniter? The woman who went to such extraordinary lengths to heal her sick nation, only to break because of the compassion of one woman. Your weakness has cost you dearly. I was strong before. I managed to achieve what I set out to do. And in the meantime, you've languished in a cell."

"We were willing to kill children," Kuvira countered.

"We did what we had to do to save our people."

And that was the crux of the matter— the excuse that Kuvira fed herself and everyone around her whenever they expressed doubt or skepticism in her methods. She wanted to run away from the Great Uniter, to do anything to stop her from speaking, but she couldn't. Running was something that Kuvira had vowed she would never do again, no matter how afraid she was. Running was the coward's way, and whatever else she had been before, she was no coward.

"What do you want?" she snarled.

The other Kuvira flicked a hand. At first Kuvira was confused, but then she felt earth close around both her ankles, the unexpected sensation forcing her to her knees. She pulled up, straining, to no avail, and she couldn't get herself into a standing position again. Her other self was approaching her slowly, sickles rising from her armor the way they had before she was about to kill Korra, and again in the desert. The Great Uniter did not attack her, however, instead, sending the sickles to hover around Kuvira.

"What do I want?" The Great Uniter paused. "What I want is for you to want me back. You used to wear me like I was another set of armor. Protection from the guilt. Protection from caring. You need me back. I want you to admit it."

Kuvira threw back her head and laughed, which surprised her doppelganger. "For what do I need you?" she asked derisively. "You represent my past. You represent all of the mistakes I've made. Even if I did need you, I certainly wouldn't want you."

"Really?" The new voice surprised her. Baatar entered her field of vision from the side, also dressed in Earth Empire garb. "You were never anything without her. No one in the Earth Nation would have seen anything of value in you without her there to help you. They'd have cast you aside, seen you as you really are: worthless. Weak. Emotion and compassion are things that you don't need."

He's not real, Kuvira thought, but her voice betrayed her. "Baatar, I—"

"—love me?" he finished. "Why? Did you think I loved you?"

Quietly she said, "You're angry with me. Not… this. I would take your hatred over whatever this is."

"You gave me the chance to prove my worth," he told her, ignoring her words. "You gave me an opportunity to flourish in a way that I never would have if I'd stayed in Zaofu. And for that, I'll always be grateful, but love? Frankly, I thought you understood— it was a marriage of convenience from the beginning. We still needed each other. It was easier to tie the knot that way."

The Great Uniter nodded. "Marrying into the Beifong name certainly has its benefits."

That had never been the point, but Kuvira figured that nothing she said would sway these two. She just needed to stay calm. She needed to stay reasonable. She knew that there had been emotions involved her relationship with Baatar. Even if he didn't love her now, they had loved each other then, and that was more than anything she could have asked for.

(And yet…)

"They have a point," said another newcomer. Korra crossed her arms. "Why did I even save you? Any information from you would've been really useful in stopping those who stayed loyal to you after your imprisonment, but did you do anything? No. Useless. You should've seen yourself after the spirit cannon imploded. I mean, I can't really talk because of my poisoning, but you looked pathetic."

Kuvira gritted her teeth, but she still didn't rise to the bait.

"I treated you like a member of my family, and this was how you repaid me?"

Her head jerked up. Anger burned through her like a poison, forcing her to speak. "What? You never treated me like family! Fed me, yes. Sheltered me, yes. Taught me? Without a doubt. But you never loved me like you loved the rest of your children!"

Suyin shook her head sadly. "What a disappointment you've been, Kuvira."

Kuvira felt herself start to shake. Suyin never said those words to her, but her mother did.

When she looked up next, Suyin and the Great Uniter were the only two left, with the Great Uniter standing a few paces back, watching them with an empty look on her face. Kuvira still couldn't move, chained to the ground by earth that she couldn't bend. She tried to remember what Korra always told her about meditating, but it was getting harder to focus, like the fog around her was filling up her mind.

"You don't get to be disappointed in me," she snarled, shaking her head slightly.

"Why not?" Suyin asked mildly. This wasn't how their talk in prison had gone. Then, Su had been the angry one, and Kuvira had sat and listened, and not replied to anything that the Beifong matriarch said. "I raised you, didn't I? I raised you to be someone strong, someone who doesn't hide behind prison camps and the lie that what you were doing was for the greater good."

"I was trying to protect them!" Kuvira yelled. "You hid behind your domes in Zaofu. You didn't even offer aid! You were the person I looked up to more than anyone, Su, and I never believed that you would turn your back on people who needed you— but you did. What else could I do?"

There were tears coming— no, no, no, Kuvira didn't deserve to cry about this. She didn't get to do this. She bowed her head, determined to hide the tears. She struggled to breathe deeply, again, both furious and despairing, and with a jumble of memories— of prison, of growing up in Zaofu, of conquering the Earth Kingdom.

What is this, really?

Maybe it was time to be honest with herself. She'd thought she was past this, but even in prison, there were some things she'd been unable to let go of. Some of the old bitterness, and the old anger, which this fog was goading her back into. She looked up, locking eyes with her doppelganger standing behind Suyin.

"Suyin Beifong was never responsible for my actions," she stated. "I was. I and I alone deserve to be punished for my sins. I will not foist the blame onto someone else." She paused, looking at Su. "Su, what I became is not on you. It never was. I am not angry with you. After what I did to you and your family, I have no right to be. I was the Great Uniter. That is a legacy that I'm never going to be rid of, and it's time that I accepted it and everything it means."

Everything around her seemed to stop— then the stone keeping her on her knees crumbled away, and the fog around her whirled and billowed and blew away, leaving a only a valley that was empty apart from hundreds of people, standing desolate and blank-eyed. Both Su and her doppelganger faded out of existence, leaving only Kuvira, feeling oddly hollow in spite of what she'd just admitted.

She wandered among the souls here, blinking once when she recognized Aiwei, but leaving him where he was. Eventually she found Baatar among the wanderers, sitting down, staring at his lap with the same look on his face that the others wore. She crouched down next to him and placed a hand on his arm, frowning when he didn't even react. He didn't resist, either, not even when she hauled him up and started walking him back towards the edge of the valley, where grass just started to peek out.

No one even twitched a muscle as Kuvira and Baatar passed them. In some ways, it was more unnerving than the fog— but Kuvira's head stayed clear, for which she was grateful. Whatever that place had been, she was thankful to be out of it. Especially since it seemed that there were many more who would never be able to leave.

The moment they left the valley, Baatar blinked.

"Kuvira?" He looked around him, shaken. "Where— we were in that fog—"

"I got you out." He didn't look like he believed her; she understood. A part of her was wondering if this wasn't just another of the fog's tricks, making it look like they had escaped when she was really still on her knees in that place. She banished the thought from her mind. She felt no great sense of triumph in having gotten out of her visions.

"It was…" He trailed off. "Let's get away from here."

"It was a nightmare," she finished softly. "But it's over now. Whatever else you might think of me, believe that. Please."

She realized that she was still holding onto his arm, and released him. He didn't move away from her though, and he stayed that close to her when they began to walk again. Neither of them were paying any particular attention to their surroundings, both too shaken by the fog to care. Baatar eventually started to speak again.

"I saw you," he said. "You were telling me that you never loved me. And… and then I saw bodies. Opal. My brothers. My mother and father. You started to tell me that I had ended their lives, that the weapon I built had destroyed them— that I should be proud of my work. I didn't want to listen, but I couldn't stop listening, either. It only got worse, and then… then I was here. Out here, and the first thing I saw was you, and I…"

"I saw me, too," Kuvira admitted. "And you. And Korra, and your mother."

Baatar looked at her, startled. "The Avatar is among the people most important to you?"

"She's visited me every month I've been in prison. She's been kind to me. Not that I've deserved any of it, but she's truly the most remarkable woman I've ever met."

Kuvira paused. She remembered the day Korra visited, after… well. The Avatar didn't speak a word about the incident, but she did offer a silent presence while Kuvira spilled everything she was feeling. She would forever be indebted to Korra for everything she did for her, but it was that day that she vowed she would never, ever go against the Avatar again. Anything and everything Korra did had her support, and she did her best to advise her when Korra (once or twice) admitted that she probably needed help with transitioning the Earth Kingdom to a republic.

"Baatar," she began. "I'm sorry. I know that what you probably need from me is to hear that… that my feelings for you are gone. That I don't love you anymore. It would be the kind thing to do, so that you can at least move on with your life, even if you're stuck in Zaofu. But I also swore that I would never lie to you, and I don't intend to start now.

"I do love you. Even when I fired on your position, I loved you. I'm not asking you to return my feelings, after what I did to you. But I'm selfish. I can't give you what you need."

She heard him sigh. "What made me angriest," he began, "in Zaofu, was that after everything, I still loved you. How could I? You'd think that being attacked by your fiancée would be enough of a wake-up call. It didn't help, when we first got here, how… zen you were about everything. It was almost insulting how calm you could be about your punishments. It was only when you started freaking out in the desert that I realized maybe you weren't as calm as you made yourself out to be."

Kuvira laughed. It was a little messed up. A little broken. "Can I just…" she gestured at him helplessly, before giving up and wrapping her arms around him. "I've missed you."

She thought she could hear his smile. "I've missed you too."

They eventually found themselves standing in a great expanse, empty except for a great tree in the center and two portals on either side. Kuvira was surprised.

"Is this it?" she wondered.

"Not quite," a new voice answered.

This time, they were approached by a portly old man, who had a bald head and a beard and a kind face. His expression was free of judgment when he looked at the two of them, but his tone was grave. "You have both passed through the trials that you were meant to undergo during your time here. I hope that you understand the place that the spirits have in our world better than you did before."

They bowed. "We hope so as well," Baatar replied.

"You made it out of the Fog of Lost Souls," the man noted. "I am impressed. I am also here to tell you that this is where you say goodbye to the Spirit World. One of these portals will take you back to your world, where you will find that several days have passed since your disappearance."

"Well, we're in for it now," Baatar muttered. "Mom's not going to be happy."

"Where do we go from here?" Kuvira asked.

The man shrugged. "That is entirely up to you," he said. "Your path has always been your own— as you learned, Kuvira. You have the choice of how to forge it. You could stay here, with us, but I think you will find that you're not welcome in many places. You could return to the real world and go into hiding, live out your lives in exile. Or you could make another choice. Any number of things can be done. I cannot tell you what to do."

They thanked him, and bid him farewell, before choosing the portal closest to them. Stepping through it— out of the spirit world and back into the physical world— felt as strange as it had the first time Kuvira had done so, although not as strange as being thrown into the spirit world due to her weapon. Baatar looked a little disturbed by the sensation as well.

The two of them were greeted by a blast of icy air. The spirit portal was surrounded by a ring of trees, which had an opening on one side. That opening was guarded by two water tribe warriors, both of whom cried out in surprise to see Kuvira and Baatar emerge from the portal.

"Who are you?" one barked. "What business do you have here?"

"Travelers," Kuvira answered. "May we speak to your chief?"

The guards looked at each other in confusion, before one shrugged and gestured for them to follow. A part of Kuvira hoped (and dreaded) that this was the South Pole, and that the chief they were being led to was Tonraq. She wasn't sure if it was relief or disappointment she felt when the chiefs turned out to be the two twins from the North Pole, both of whom bore absolutely no reaction to two of the biggest war criminals showed up in their home.

"We could put them in P'li's prison," the male twin (Desna, Kuvira recalled) suggested. He sounded bored.

"I do not care what they do," replied Eska. "Had they attacked us, no doubt I would skewer them both with an icicle at this very moment. As it is, they did not attack us."

"They attacked our ally," Desna pointed out. "And our cousin."

Eska pointed at Kuvira without even looking at her. "She is Bolin's new girlfriend."

Kuvira choked, trying to turn it into a cough. Baatar looked like he was trying not to laugh, so Kuvira settled for glaring at him.

"Do whatever you want with us," she said. "Just… don't ever call me that again."

Both twins stared at her without even blinking. Kuvira shivered.

"I like her."

"I do too."

"She is still threatening."

"It's certainly an appeal."

What in the spirits? Kuvira thought.

"I think that inaction is the best course of action here, Eska."

"I agree." Eska waved her hand at the two of them. "Do whatever you want. We're not particularly interested in your futures."

After that, Kuvira and Baatar were ignored entirely, so after exchanging bemused glances, they edged out of the throne room. She was nonplussed by the two, but apparently the Northern Water Tribe was run with ruthless efficiency, so she wasn't about to question it. The guards that had been told to stand outside eyed them nervously, having realized who they were, but they made no move to stop them as they left.

"What do you think?" Baatar asked her.

Kuvira's mind had been made up a long time ago. "What else? I'm going back to Republic City to face my trial. If you want to go somewhere else, I won't stop you. I'm willing to be that the chiefs won't care if you decide to settle here. It's like the man in the spirit world said— your path is yours, Baatar."

He shook his head. "No, I'll come with you. But I'm going to refuse to testify against you."

"Baatar—"

"Mother convinced me to. It would've shortened my sentence of house arrest in Zaofu." He sighed. "But now… I don't deserve that. And I don't want to make myself look like a fool by saying that you manipulated me into doing all of those things for you, especially since I know now that it isn't the truth. It may mean that we don't get to see each other for some time, but the world needs the truth right now, not more lies."

They ended up walking to the harbor hand-in-hand, both aware that they would soon be separated once again. Kuvira was afraid of this trial, but that was exactly why she needed to go through with it. They found a ship that would take them to Republic City (the captain was skeptical at first, but he agreed quickly enough when he realized that he would be rewarded for being the one to return them to the capitol of the United Republic). As they pulled away from the Northern Water Tribe, Kuvira stood on the deck, aware that the cold was starting to seep into her bones and finding herself unable to care.

"In spite of having to go back," Baatar said, coming to stand next to her, "I'm glad that that's over."

Kuvira turned to him, about to respond, but something caught her eye. She looked out over the water to see someone standing on a nearby ice floe, staring at her. She recognized the figure instantly, from the armor to the dark green uniform and the professional gaze that they fixed Kuvira with.

She blinked, and it was gone.

"No," she murmured, meeting Baatar's eyes. "It'll never be over."