Hi, sorry it took so long to update, I've been busy this week and I've been sick for the last days, anyway, Last week was Friday the 13th, I outlived Jason on my birthday lol. Without further ado, enjoy the episode, support it, and leave reviews, I'd really appreciate it.
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My arrival at the village was, to say the least, unexpectedly pleasant. When I returned to the tribe with the two leopard-caribou, I was greeted with joy. The village had been decorated for a celebration.
Katara and Gran Gran met me jubilantly.
But Katara asked about Spat. I told a half-truth: "He died saving me." I offered no further explanation, and she— in her own way— understood.
Her face showed sadness, but she hid it, eager for the celebration today.
Gran Gran observed me with her analytical gaze, but said nothing.
"Have you finished your project?"
"Of course. It was difficult, but I did it."
She nodded, happy and curious to know what I had done.
The tribe was truly abuzz today. All the women bustled about, organizing, searching, preparing— regardless of their age.
They greeted me with palpable joy, offering words of honor and congratulations.
Katara and Tiga made me take a bath because they said I smelled… and they were right. Three days without washing was too much, even for me.
When I entered the igloo I've lived in this life, I took the hot water from over the extinguished fire.
I took my time, allowing my body to relax for a moment.
When I stepped out of the small bathing chamber, a soft curtain of steam followed me. Once it cleared, I saw new clothes folded on a chair.
They were elegant yet functional for combat. Without a doubt, they were made with care.
I dressed enthusiastically and excitedly. Stepping out of the igloo, all eyes were on me. The wind was drowned out by the murmurs and bustling of the women, delighted to see me in my new clothes.
"Do you like your new clothes, Sokka?"
"Of course, Tiga. Who should I thank for these?"
"Gran Gran made them. She said she's been preparing them for months but waited for the right moment," Katara said, with her usual tone of annoyance.
"Well, I'll thank her when I see her," I replied, teasingly messing up Katara's hair.
But before she could react, the elder woman appeared holding a ceremonial robe.
"Sokka… it's time."
Kanna said, guiding me to a small wooden platform. How long had it taken them to move this?
Kanna glanced over at the center of the circular stage.
"Today we gather here as a tribe that has made a unified decision. We all remember the dark times from a few years back, but we overcame them and emerged stronger, thanks to Sokka."
The women nodded, nostalgic smiles on their faces at her words.
"We all know the progress and sacrifice he's made for the tribe. His merits, at such a young age, surpass those of many past chiefs. That's why we've decided to name you tribal chief."
I heard determination in her unwavering voice—and a subtle undertone of fear, perceptible only to me.
Silence followed her words. I could hear everyone's breathing, the sobs of a few, and see looks of pride, respect, and held-back emotion.
"Do you accept, Sokka?" Kanna asked.
"Of course," I replied with a satisfied smile.
"Now you, Sokka, are officially the tribal chief of the Southern Water Tribe."
Her words were met with applause and cheers from the women, while the polar bear-dogs responded with joyous howls, celebrating with the tribe.
"For decades, when the North chose the chief, we had no special attire or symbol for our leaders. But now you will have one, and it is yours, both now and forever."
Kanna extended her hand toward Tiga, standing behind me. In her arms was a massive, thick cloak.
I recognized it immediately and was momentarily stunned. It was identical to Thragg's cloak in Invincible.
I took it eagerly, unable to hide my excitement. They were almost identical and perfect. The thick fur lined the neck and nape area, even reaching the chest. It was so full it had matching braids, and the lion's head lay over my left shoulder—imposing, yet visibly small. Clearly, it was made from a lion's face skin, cut and sewn to fit. Its stiffness betrayed bone reinforcements, forming a pseudo-skull.
"Please, let us put it on you," Tiga and the other women said.
As its weight settled on my shoulders, I felt how heavy it really was—20 or 30 kilograms, perhaps more. But on me, it felt like a normal cloak.
"Here—the symbol of our tribe."
Gran Gran said, pinning an emblem in the center of the front. It was made of iron. By touch, I could tell how ancient it was, but it had been polished and painted in shades of blue, giving it a fresh appearance.
Everything felt perfect in so many ways. In one week, I'd achieved two of my goals: build a better tribe and become its chief.
The women's cheers and applause interrupted my thoughts. Seeing their happy faces moved me deeply.
To be so praised and loved is truly satisfying. So much so, I couldn't help but smile.
"Now, I can't think of a better way to inaugurate the title than with a grand feast," I said, raising my arms and prompting more cheers.
As if they'd been waiting for the signal, everyone sprang into action. The younger women rushed to the makeshift tables—made from flat logs and large granite slabs—while others brought out trays covered in hides and sacks full of food.
In less than five minutes, the platform became the centerpiece of a tribal banquet.
There was roasted arctic hen, swordfish fillets covered in seaweed sauces, spicy shrimp broths with boiled roots, lobster skewers cooked on hot stones. There were also ice-compressed sweets made with fermented fruit juice, and flatbreads cooked on granite plates. All new recipes I had taught them.
Children ran around with fish balls wrapped in crispy hide, like salty treasures.
Katara sat beside me while Tiga held a bowl that smelled of spiced stew.
"Will you sit here like a statue or join the feast, great chief?" Katara said, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm waiting for someone to serve me," I replied with a mockingly haughty grin.
She rolled her eyes, tossed a berry at my chest, and laughed. I joined in. It was simple and fun.
Gran Gran appeared behind me with a polished horn cup.
"Here. It's not wine, but it warms better."
It was a thick mixture of herbs, fat, and what could only be described as "something that burns going down." I drank it. I almost coughed. Gran Gran smiled, satisfied, and walked away without another word.
I suspect it was her joke, judging by that final grin.
The two surviving leopard-caribou lay by the fire, calm, silently watching. One of the youngest children approached with a piece of meat, and they accepted it gently.
Music started soon after. One of the younger women brought out a hidden drum, and others tapped rhythms with wooden spoons against benches and stones. Soon, someone began to sing. A traditional tribal melody, old, speaking of harsh winters and the importance of enduring together.
But the lyrics quickly shifted to something more impromptu:
"♪ And though Sokka smells after three days... Now he wears clean clothes and cloak! ♪"
Laughter erupted. Including me.
"Hey! That's slander!" I shouted feigning indignation while Katara and Tiga clicked hands with other girls.
"It's tradition to tease the chief on the first night!" a voice shouted from the back.
"Since when?"
"From now on!"
The drum's tempo rose. Some began to dance. Others simply clapped along. The oldest women stayed seated near the fire, smiling and exchanging proud looks.
I hadn't felt anything like this in years. This joy and emotion were comforting. They reminded me of my travels in my old life.