The Wrath Of Korra

"No one to save you" a voice whispered into Korra's ear. He blinked his eyes open gradually and allowed them to accommodate the reflecting ray. The last thing he remembered were the troops of armies in horses and ... Then him waking up in a pile of dust. He tried to move and that's when he noticed the hurt in his ankle and a decay body lying next to him. He wondered how long he had lay there as he struggled to get on his feet.

"Korra! Korra!" The voice called again, this time coming from a castle in the desert.

"Weakling, arise, you've slept for too long" the voice said.

"Who are you?" Korra asked as he turned around looking from where the voice came. Korra picked up his sword and motioned for the man behind the voice to show himself. There was a great laughter that echoed aloud across the desert,

"You weakling. Where were you when your land was ruined? The elves took your wife and raided your land and for days you lay on the same dust sleeping in comfort. Come!"

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Korra followed the voice into the Castle and it unveiled to him all that had happened.

"It's time you feed your anger. You've let the warrior in you sleep for too long. Stay until you're healed". The strange voice demanded.

Korra pondered over what the strange voice had told him, he held the scroll, on it was his name written to fulfill a prophecy, and it said it was time. A surge of anger rose up within him. It doesn't matter what happens, he was ready to save his people and deliver them from the constant invasion by the elves. He picked up his sword and walked through the dry deserts known as the vulture's plains, his wrath being his strongest weapon.

This is in response to the Contest by @freewritehouse. The contest is still active for participation