Phrases in bold are direct quotes from Avatar: the Last Airbender, Season 2, Episode 19 (The Guru) & Season 3, Episode 21 (Sozin's Comet, Part Four: Avatar Aang).

"In the era before the Avatar, we bent not the elements, but the energy within." - The Lion Turtle

In the aftermath, she was really just most surprised with how dull everything felt.

Even colors and shapes had ceased to hold the same meaning, the same form for her. It was as if the way she viewed, observed, understood her world was defined by her bending, and when it was taken away from her, so was her world. Lin scoffed at the very idea. She had never been defined by anything except herself—and now wasn't going to be the day that changed. But that didn't explain why she still felt so lost. And utterly helpless.

Lin's eyes opened, becoming accustomed to the darkness around her. She felt blind—and with a sharp pang, Lin realized this was how her mother felt, always. Blind, empty, alone. Suffocated. With a wry smile, Lin realized she must have felt more blind than her mother did—for her mother always had her bending to see. The irony of it all didn't escape her.

In any event, no more than a week had passed since her bending had been taken. Any hope of escape had been quickly quashed after her first, second, and third failed escape attempts, the first two resulting in several bruises, and the third in what seemed to be a concussion. Lin hated how useless she was without her bending, but she wasn't one to dwell on it. Lin took a shuddering breath and folded into herself, curling into a ball, toying with the ideas that had tormented her so.

Lin remembered the stories her mother had told her, the stories of Avatar Aang in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se, and how the Avatar had eventually mastered the Avatar State. And of course, Lin, a master Earthbender and generally well-educated woman, knew of the chakras. She disdainfully spat on the ground. Lin had never been one for what her mother referred to as "that spiritual mumbo-jumbo." She had been more than content to use her bending without considering her spirit, or her ancestors, or anything she considered equally ridiculous.

But now that she had no bending left, perhaps the only thing she could do was try the spiritual side, for once. Lin looked around her barren cell and heaved a sigh. She had nothing to lose. At the very least, she would fail in unlocking her chakras, or even if she did succeed, it just wouldn't return her bending to her. Maybe it would just give her some peace of mind.

With that settled in her mind, Lin settled into a meditation position, as she had often seen Tenzin and his father assume. She brought her fists together and retreated into the darkness of her memories, pulling her knowledge of the chakras up from their dusty filings in her mind. A voice rang out in her mind—

First we will open the Earth chakra, located at the base of the spine.

It deals with survival and is blocked by fear.

With some difficulty, Lin kept her eyes closed, and she took another deep breath and wiggled a little in her meditation stance. She had always told herself that she would never be scared of anything. And truth be told, it was difficult for her to think of what she was scared. She had long suppressed and repressed those inhibitions, choosing duty over personal desire or inclination. Lin pursed her lips. This was going to be more difficult than she thought. With a sigh, Lin let herself steep in the memories of fear, where she was scared for her life . . .

Fighting on the roof of the Probending Arena, as the Lieutenant stood over her, his lightning rods crackling and sparkling, and her tired reflection in his eyes. The fear she had felt when her bending had been taken away.

The scars on her face from the chiblocker, and her utter feeling of helplessness and shame and fear as he raped her, carelessly and callously. The fear she had felt when the Healers had told her she could no longer have children, and the fear of losing Tenzin, who had the pressure of repopulating the race of Air Nomads.

Her father leaving her mother, leaving them all alone, leaving her mother to cope with a three-year-old child, and the fear and uncertainty she had felt when her mother had told her that Daddy wasn't coming back.

Lin looked down at the ground, opening her eyes. What was she supposed to do now? Her mother had told her that in order to clear one's chakras, he or she had to let go of the things blocking each chakra. Lin examined her memories, examined her thoughts, and methodically let each one flow down the stream of her mind. The Equalists could no longer threaten her with loss of her bending. That chiblocker was now dead, and she was stronger now, could fight anyone off now. No one would mess with her now. She knew now why her father had left, and she knew that she didn't need anyone in her life. She took her fear and used it to strengthen her, used it to remind her that she was alive, and that she had something worth fighting for.

With a sudden 'click' in her mind, and a warmth spreading throughout the base of her spine, Lin realized her first chakra had been opened. She wiped a bit of sweat from her brow and took a deep breath. This is harder than I expected. She settled back into her meditation stance, intent on opening all the chakras. She closed her eyes. And the voice rang out in her mind—

Second is the Water chakra.

This chakra deals with pleasure, and is blocked by guilt.

Lin swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. What are these maudlin emotions? she snapped at herself. You can do this without being sentimental. Lin curtly nodded to herself and faced the wall of her cell, trying to examine the things about which she felt guilty.

And suddenly, there was Tenzin, staring at her. Not the old, married Tenzin. No, the young, five-o'clock shadowed, scruffy, incomplete Tenzin. Her Tenzin.

And the memories began playing on the screen of her mind, as the twenty-year-old Tenzin walked towards her. He was saying something, but the words didn't mean as much to a nineteen-year-old Lin, and so she didn't really remember them. No, all she remembered was the feel of his hands on her hips, and the warmth in her stomach as he took her to bed.

She remembered the awkwardness, the blush of her cheeks, the initial pain, the shared laughs, and the feeling of closeness and fulfillment. She remembered the afterglow and the muttered professions of love, of how he felt in her embrace, his prickly beard rubbing against her cheek as they moved together, were one together. She remembered what it felt like to be a beautiful twenty-year-old. She remembered what it felt like to be wanted, needed.

And it still hurt, and she still cared, but Lin Beifong was never one to let anyone else define her except herself. No man could do that. No one could. She wasn't going to be maudlin, she wasn't going to be sentimental. She wasn't going to say that Tenzin was the man of her dreams, or that she would love him forever. Because Lin Beifong was a fifty-year-old woman now, not a twenty-year-old, and professions of undying love and invocations of eternity were for twenty-year-olds, not fifty-year-olds.

What do you feel guilty about, Lin? she asked herself. She closed her eyes and her guilt was laid out before her, Tenzin and her mother, her metalbending cops, and their accusations shouted at her in her mind.

You couldn't have children.

You were unforgiving.

You were a terrible daughter.

You didn't protect us, Chief.

Lin frowned and rubbed her eyes. She told herself sternly, You can't change the past. It's best not to dwell on it. Let it go. Let it run down the creek, flow away. With a small frown, Lin watched Tenzin and her mother and her officers fade into a translucent dust before her her eyes. As that warmth spread throughout her limbs, Lin felt a pop in her mind and a sense of fullness. Lin took a shaky breath and rubbed the bridge between her eyes. She loosened her muscles, and, with a renewed sense of vigor and purpose, Lin squeezed her eyes tight and brought her fists together.

That inner voice told her quite clearly—

Third is the Fire chakra, located in the stomach.

This chakra deals with will power and is blocked by shame.

"Tell me where the Avatar is, and I'll let you keep your bending."

That slight second of hesitation, that awful moment when she had wanted to give in, when she had wanted to break down, to tell Amon where Korra was going. The overwhelming, stifling, suffocating feeling of shame.

"I'm not telling you anything, you monster."

And the shame she had felt when she had tried to metalbend out of her prison cell. The shame that she would do anything to keep her bending, that she would give up the good of the city and the safety of the Avatar for her own selfish needs. The shame that her bending defined her, and that she would do anything to keep her mental wellbeing in check. She had always been able to do anything she had ever wanted. Nothing had ever stopped her from doing what she desired. Until now.

Lin snarled, and her eyes snapped open. She stood up, and her hand curled into a fist. With a cry, Lin punched the wall, tried to bend, but the metal did not give, the wall did not break. Her fist was raw and red and bloody before her eyes, and she screamed in pain and shame. Cradling her hand to her chest, Lin slunk to the ground. I am nothing. She was sobbing, laying on the ground with her face in the dirt, dirt and tears mixing together. Her whole body was racked with sobs, and she beat her fists on the ground. I am nothing, she told herself. I am nothing without my bending.

But suddenly, Lin could hear her mother's voice in her ears. She was speaking to her as if she were a child again, in that rough and callous voice, telling her in no uncertain terms that it didn't matter the other children didn't like her, or that she wasn't the greatest Earthbender just yet. And after the words would always come a hard punch to her shoulder, and then a hug. But while her mother would always play tough, Lin knew that some of it was a charade.

For on the darkest of nights, when Lin would pretend to be sleeping, her mother would come into her room and sit next to her. You are my everything, Linnie, her mother would whisper to her, as her hand stroked her cheek and pushed the locks of unruly hair away from her face. You are everything to me.

Lin's heart swelled at the memory. Her mother would be proud of her, no matter her mistakes, no matter who she was. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Linnie. Bender or nonbender. You are my everything. You are not nothing, not nothing to me. The energy gently swelled inside her stomach, and Lin smiled as the chakra opened. She stood and stretched for a brief time. As Lin sat down, she shifted back into a cross-legged position, and brought her two hands together. The voice in her mind said to her—

The fourth chakra is located in the heart.

It deals with love, and is blocked by grief.

Her mother's body, scarred and broken and bruised, as they lay together and died together on that Republic City street. It was raining, and the earth around her body was wet, rivulets of rain pouring down and trickling around her mother's head. The earth was crying for the woman who had loved it. Her mother's words to her, that she would be chief now, and the badge that she pressed with trembling hands into her daughter's. The badge had slipped from her hands, slippery with sweat and tears and rain, and as her mother died, she picked it up and pressed it to her lips, feeling the sweet taste of iron and rust on her tongue.

Her mother's funeral, the earthy coffin that was sunk into the ground, and the faces of everyone there, faces painted and dripping with grief. Avatar Aang, Aunt Katara, Tenzin, Kya, Bumi, The Duke, Fire Lord Zuko—and the only one not there, her father. Who would surely be sitting at his home in Kyoshi Island, pretending not to know that the woman he had always loved, the woman he would have died for, was now gone, and that his daughter wanted him there like she wanted nothing else in the world.

Lin opened her eyes, and was startled to notice that her cheeks had become wet. She smiled wryly, wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, and looked to the sky. In the deepest, darkest nights, where everything was still, her thoughts would always stray to her mother. Her strong-as-rock, tough-loving, dirt-between-her-toes, never-too-proud-to-show-her-motherly-love mother. Was there anything she could have done to have saved her? Had she failed in being a good daughter? Was she carrying on the metalbender legacy? Was she carrying on the Beifong legacy? Was she making her mother proud?

With the tears threatening to well up again, Lin knew that she knew the answers to those questions. With a soft sigh, her heart loosened just a little, and something 'clicked' in her mind. Knowing that her chakra had opened, Lin leaned against the wall and smiled at the memory of her mother. With her mother's presence surrounding her, Lin began meditation anew. The voice rang out once more in her mind, saying—

The fifth in the chain is the Sound chakra, located in the throat.

It deals with truth, and is blocked by lies. The ones we tell ourselves.

The children, Tenzin's children, running through Air Temple Island. The children that could have been hers. And a black-haired, beautiful child turns to look at her, with green eyes, a smile on her lips, and a rock floating in her hand. Her daughter that never was.

Her mother's earth coffin, about to be sunk into the ground. The badge now clutched in her own sweaty hand. The sunlight, as it pours down onto her wet face.

She had told herself she regretted the decision she made with Tenzin. She had wondered what her life could have been if she hadn't done what she did, but she knew she didn't regret it. That was a lie, and it prevented her from seeing the truth. The truth was that she and him just had different goals, and that she couldn't help him in achieving his. So to say that she regretted her goals, regretted her choices, regretted the way her life had turned out . . . would be a lie.

With a 'click' and a now-familiar rush of energy, and a smell of cleanness in the air, her chakra opened. Lin smiled widely and stretched her limb, eager now to finish. She immediately settled back into her position, and the voice told her—

The sixth pool of energy is the Light chakra, located in the center of the forehead.

It deals with insight and is blocked by illusion.

Illusion and insight. Lin knew too much about illusion, about things preventing true sight from occurring. She allowed herself to wade through the memories, memories of illusions, fantasies she somewhere still entertained . . .

Her faceless father, his large hand over hers, guiding her as she took wobbling three-year-old steps. Her earliest memory, of her father and mother, happy together, sharing a kiss. But he would be spirited away, and the last image she would ever see of him was his warrior wolf-tail and blue garb as he walked out the door, going back to a wife and children who were pleasant and had pretty faces, but didn't make him happy like her mother did. Like Linnie did.

Her own pride the first time she metalbended, how she felt she could finally be the daughter her mother had always wanted. The illusion that she was not worthy of her mother's love or attention until she would be a great Earthbender, and the illusion that her bending defined her, made her who she was. The illusion that she could not live without it, that she could not function without it, that without her bending, she was just as blind as her mother was, and even more so.

Lin shook her head and gritted her teeth. She would take pleasure in dismantling those delusions. She didn't need bending to see the world. She wasn't like her mother. And maybe she didn't need bending to see, to define her world. She was a talented martial artist in her own right, skilled with a blade, just like her father had been, and she was the product of both her father and her mother—not solely her mother's bender, but her father's warrior as well.

With the energy flowing through her limbs, Lin felt the chakra open. She allowed a self-congratulatory smile to curl over her lips, and she closed her eyes again, ready to finish, already feeling better than when she had started. With a sense of finality, the voice, reading the pages of the book of her memories, said one last phrase—

The Thought chakra is located at the crown of the head.

It deals with pure cosmic energy and is blocked by earthly attachment.

Lin took a deep breath and closed her eyes, immersing herself in the darkness, feeling emotionally drained. She knew she was close—one more chakra, the hardest still left. Even Avatar Aang had struggled with it. Lin continued her steady breathing and felt the words ring out in her mind:

Meditate on what attaches you to this world.

And with that, Lin loosened her muscles, and she felt herself sinking, sinking into the memories . . .

Her metal-bending cops, from their first bumbling encounters with metal as teenagers in the training academy, to their brave determination and perseverance in the face of danger. Them, huddled in that cold, dark cell, their look of admiration and gratitude at the sight of her.

Tenzin, young, five-o'clock-shadowed, lying next to her in the warm darkness, with a smile unfolded on his face. The feel of his skin against hers, his deep laugh, his airbending tricks, his children that should have been hers.

That stupid-as-hell Korra, running blindly into chasing Amon, without even thinking of the ramifications of her actions, to their battle together on the roof of the Probending arena. Her own sense of admiration at her careless freedom displayed by the young Avatar.

Her mother, her strong mother, who taught her what it meant to fight and what it meant to stand for something. Who taught her about life, and love, and dedication to a cause. Their lessons together, the pride in her heart when she became an officer in the force, her mother's beautiful, dirt-stained face as she died on that rainy Republic city street. The badge, now hers, that once was her mother's.

Republic City, her birthplace, her home. From City Hall and police headquarters to the Republic City Park and Central City Station, from Air Temple Island and Aang's memorial to the Dragon Flats district and the Probending Arena. The places, which she could never forget. The inhabitants, to which she devoted her time and career. Her home, for which she would give her life.

Lin smiled bitterly and blinked away the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. It wasn't going to be as hard as she thought—to let it all go, let it run down the creek. For she realized one important thing. One extremely important thing.

She could do nothing for these people. Not any longer.

She had failed her officers, failed in protecting them, failed in stopping Amon before it was too late. She had failed in providing Tenzin what he needed, what he wanted, failed in being the right woman for him. She had failed Korra, failed to protect her and help her, failed in making the city safe. She had failed her mother, failed in continuing on the craft of Metalbending, failed to be the daughter her mother deserved. And she had failed the city, failed its inhabitants, failed everyone who had ever lived here and felt safe here.

But all those things are in the past now, aren't they?

There's nothing you can do now, Lin.

Nothing you can do to change the past, to help them, to fix it, to make it better.

Let it all flow away.

And she did.

A rush of energy coursed through her veins, and Lin's eyes flew open with a gasp. It was as if every pore in her body was opening, as if every possibility in the universe was open to her, as if she was being scrubbed from head to toe, as if all colors and sounds and touches had run into one rush of emotion, but more than that—the earth was singing to her, crawling beneath her feet, pleading for her to bend once more.

With a rush of energy, Lin bashed her fist into the wall of her metal cell. The metal gave, surrounding her fist and coating around her arm, as if rejoicing in their reunification. Lin fell to her knees with a shuddering breath, staring at her arm, encased in metal. The sudden sting of tears came to Lin's eyes, and she felt the dirt on her face, and the impurities in the metal, and she felt the earth singing at her feet. The tears of joy began pouring down her face, for she was no longer blind, no longer helpless. So this is what it feels like to be truly alive, Lin thought. She flexed her hands and looked out of her cell.

Two chi-blockers stood there, utterly dumbfounded at her display of metal-bending. A vicious smile curled over Lin's face. She pointed at them and said in a voice hoarse and raspy from disuse, "You cannot harm me now." She had never felt so alive, never felt so powerful, never felt so untouchable.

The chi-blockers rushed at her, but in deft movements, with the blood singing in her veins and her heart pounding in her ears, Lin encased the two of them in the metal door to her cell. They struggled and flopped around on the floor like fishes, but Lin put her hands on her hips and smiled.

Lin quietly exited the prison, seeing with her feet. She came to the front of the prison, punching a hole in the wall to give herself a way out. She looked once behind her, into the dark hole of the prison, her past hurts, lies, illusions, and blocked chakras, and shook her head. Lin turned away and looked out into the clear night sky. Republic City was burning. An airship hovered over Air Temple Island. Korra was gone; Tenzin, hiding.

Lin lifted her head and stared into the dark sky, feeling strength and power returning. Her vision blurred, and she felt the cool metal beneath her fingers, felt the dirt and blood on her nose, felt the sharp air pierce her lungs as she inhaled. She was here. She was alive, she was freer than ever, and those things—everyone she'd ever known, everyone she'd ever loved, her metal-bending cops, Tenzin, that stupid-as-hell Korra, her mother, this glorious city she would give her life to protect—would give her the strength she needed to keep going.

I'm taking this city down, she thought, and ventured out into the night.

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