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She could feel it.

It was a throbbing persistent hum which beckoned her to a home of misty warmth up above the luminous sunshine and the opaque clouds; into a world of spirits and eternal peace where the successful reside when their time fades.

Her husband lied beside her on their mattress, unbeknownst to his lover's calls to leave him and the bed cold. His annoying snores which kept her eyes bloodshot and her restless mind awake for hours before, suddenly transformed into tranquil breaths which soothed her ashen eyes to a slightly softened glaze. The truth was, she had been receiving the same distant message for nearly half a year now. Visions of Avatar Aang any million others patiently waiting in her bedroom corner for her to arrive. Not visions anymore though. From the corner of her eye, she could easily spot his orange robes blowing in a nonexistent wind.

She should've expected it, considering she had maxed out her life limit thoroughly with all the endless sparring and pro-bending, the heated arguments and sassy remarks that ironically stung the people she loved the most, the passionate escapes at nightfall with her lover, the even more passionate arguments with her eldest daughter during her infamous teenage era, the softer moments where she'd lean against the window sill watching her grandchildren tackle her husband in a love-fest….

Wow. She really had done it all.

Now aging into a fine ninety two year old woman, she had accomplished marrying the man she loved, bearing two bothersome yet completely amazing children, and providing the needed peace her City and the world so desperately needed.

She should receive an award for it all.

She smirked at the thought. Even after all these years, her inflated ego had barely shrunk.

"I love you so much," she whispered hoarsely, not wanting to leave just yet, before planting the faintest kiss on her husband's resting lips. With her farewell finished, she clenched his hand tighter and closed her eyes, patiently waiting just like her previous reincarnations had at their time.

Their ominous shadows stood. She dug deeper into his chest. He slept peacefully.

And it was over. The mighty Avatar Korra's thundering heartbeat dwindled to a quiet tap…and to nothing. Yet, despite being the most powerful being in the entire world, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Aang watched as the old woman transformed into her youthful self once more. Her wrinkles smoothened into the elegant brown it always shone and her silver hairs blackened to their normal curls.

"Welcome back, Korra."

It wasn't the grandest of a greeting. Instead of the expected warm hug and welcoming smile, he watched a tad sympathetic as her eyes fixated behind her shoulder, watching in silent pain as her husband slept with her corpse.

"It's okay," Katara appeared from behind Aang's tall shadow and placed a loving pat on her shoulder, "It'll hurt, but it will heal and soon enough, he'll be in your arms again."

Korra only nodded sadly before regaining her bearings. No more was she the old prune Katara who smelt of warmth and seawater…here, in her place, was the most beautiful woman Korra had ever laid eyes on. Her luscious brown hair fell sweetly to the side, caressing the soft features of her cleansed and nearly ethereal face. Her usually sorrow face beamed stronger now that Aang's hand was intertwined with hers. This was where they belonged…

Ignoring the slight tinge of envy seeing the lovers reunited, Korra tore her gaze away from the earth below. "What about the next Avatar? Earth Kingdom now, right?"

It was a diversion of topic, something Aang completely understood but Katara couldn't. It resulted in a blatant rise of motherly lectures which threatened to reason once more to Korra that pushing these emotions aside wasn't the way to go…but her rampage was thwarted by Aang's stiff nod. She obeyed silently.

Kyoshi took the opportunity to make her appearance. It caught Korra by surprise. Was she always right behind Aang? "There's been a slight change of plans," Kyoshi explained.

"What?"

Aang replied Korra, "The Spirits have found another dimension in need of our help. They haven't specified much, but the new reincarnation will not be born in our world."

"I-I don't understand. There's a second world?"

"Yes," Roku's towering form suddenly appeared from a flash of fire, an entrance he particular favored, though it seemed to grow old on the other reincarnations for Korra was the only one who watched in awe. Could she do the same with water too?! "More than two, actually. Millions of lives exist and similarly, the same amount of worlds do too. They encircle each other in the universe in an eternal whip of universe. Ours is just a mere stroke in the overall painting."

"So the Avatar's going to be born in another world?"

"Exactly." It was Aang who confirmed her doubts.

"Then, how will he or she learn the art of bending? Or of the Avatar's story and culture? We can't just leave the person all alone in a new world and expect them to be of help!"

"And that's why we need to send a knowledgeable person along with the Avatar Spirit. It has to be someone who'll be reincarnated, but still connected with the knowledge of their previous self." It was Katara now who spoke. The spirits surrounded Korra, and from the shading of the World's strange lights, their faces became even more serious and intimidating.

"Who will it be?" Korra stuttered, though she already partially knew the answer.

Of course…

O*O*O*O*O*O*O*

"Sriya, eat your breakfast or you'll be late for school! And lift up your head, you're going to break it soon enough!"

Her mother's voice barely registered into the nine year old girl's occupied mind. Her neck was once more bent painfully over a novel as her eyes raced closer to the climax. "Wait, mom!" Her hand waved distantly as the riveting tale reached its peak. There it was, the warrior woman raising her sword in the final swipe as her mighty steed soared through the air! Her cape fluttered violently into a hardened crisp under the malicious villain's fire, but the animal bore on, bravely ignorant of the blinding pain. And here it was, the blow of silver destined for the monster's crimson-

The book slammed closed in a ferocious thud.

"Mom!" Her fingers desperately grasped at the pages under her mother's firm fist, but it was no use. The poor novel was trapped in her mother's cage which was welded with the strongest reinforcements known to mankind.

"No more! You're going to eat now if it kills you. God knows you need the nutrition." Her mother tightened around her wrist and practically dragged the crestfallen child out of her dimly lit bedroom room and into the blinding sunshine of the kitchen.

"The light burns!" her daughter cried dramatically as her free arm shielded the sun's malicious fire.

Her mother smiled softly at her daughter's crazy antics. "I blame the books," she'd complain to her friends every Saturday night (customary 'girl night' for all the women on the block) and it really wasn't that off the mark. "Now come on, eat up."

Sriya was old enough to make her own meals now, finally. If it was her parents who still fed her, fruits and other nutritional crap would be squashed down her throat.

She nimbly jumped onto the kitchen counter and reached for the highest cupboard, pulling her cereal out and pouring it into a nearby bowl. She never ate much, which explained her terribly skinny frame. But appearances can be deceiving. Despite looking like a twig ready to splinter, the girl packed a mean kick.

She discovered the talent when a boy at her school called her a 'wimpy girl who'll live her life in the kitchen and take care of the children'. Now, Sriya was the most reasonable and quiet girl her mother ever knew. It took a lot to make the child angry, but when she was, she was a bull. Nothing could hold her rage back and all hell would break loose. So, at that moment, the loud-mouthed boy was the red cape and she was the seething animal. The cape was destined for hurt and Sriya still doesn't regret her actions despite the cast on the boy's broken leg.

After all, she was a Taurus so at least she could blame astrology for her violent temper.

The incident branded her as the feared legend of the school, so added with her not so great social skills and tendency to be slightly over-straightforward, making friends became a difficulty.

The only friendship she had ever managed to form was with her mother's close friend, Midel. She was a thirty year old wrestler and her personality was no-nonsense, stiff, and guarded while Sriya's was reasonable, passionate, and overall caring. But despite it all, they made the best pair.

Midel's story was a tough one. She was born to a family enslaved to poverty and drugs of San Francisco's darkest alleyways. Disgusted with the lifestyle she was brought into, she salvaged enough money and spare change to take the Bart train and escape the city. It was easier said than done, no doubt, but Midel never regretted her actions to work solo.

College was out of the question for the otherwise talented woman. Though she's never been too fond of math and science and similar subjects, she always knew that society only approved those fluent in it. She understood the bare minimum, but she needed more. More education equaled college which in turn meant money, a resource rarely found in Midel's life.

That's how she met Sriya's mother.

Sriya's mother owned a diner, a joint that was passed down through her family's generations for years. Midel started working as a waitress under her, and eventually the two became best of friends despite their strikingly different lives. Sriya's mother was the top of her class, and being the kind woman she was, she offered to tutor Midel if Midel taught her the basic martial arts. Midel had never been properly trained but if the alleys were good at anything, it was teaching fighting. Midel had managed to create her own self defense and Sriya's mother had the privilege to watch it first hand. She immediately craved to know the same and the two agreed to a simple barter system. Education in fighting in change for education in books.

AN:

Sriya is a Hindu name which is another name for Lakshmi (the goddess of wealth). It is prounounced: Riya with a 'SH' in front of it.