...

Shadows Under the Ocean

by

Popcornbay

1. Passing Days

Later that day, when he was told that his sister was named Katara, he stitched her name close to his heart, never letting her go, and never forgetting his promise.

Katara was born on the day of the Winter solstice.

Katara was born on a full moon at midnight on the day of the Winter solstice. Sokka could remember that day as vividly as ever, despite him being no older than two and half years. The moon was very bright that night. He stayed with his father, outside the hut where his mother was in, and tried not to focus on her painful cries that reached his ears.

Years later, when he would recall the birth of his baby sister, he would realize that it was a perfect night for a birth of a waterbender. But that night, Sokka was two and half years old and he didn't understand why his mama was crying inside a tent, and why he couldn't go in and protect her.

Hours later, when Sokka was just in the verge of sleep on his papa's lap in the biting cold, he heard another small cry from inside of the hut. He was two and half years old, and Sokka most certainly knew, that was not his mama. It took only a moment for his papa to scoop baby Sokka into his arms, and stand up from the log that he had been sitting on.

Sokka was barely awake and he was only two and a half years old, but he remembered the smiling face of his Gran Gran, and the bright light of the moon illuminating his whole village and the icy mountains surrounding it. He didn't realize what that meant at the time, but later, when he was old enough to understand, old enough to remember the birth of his little sister, he remembered feeling as if the whole environment was singing, and rejoicing the birth of a waterbender.

Of course, he would remember the feeling when he was old enough to understand, but now, Sokka was two and a half years old, and he was ushered into the small hut where his mama was.

His mama looked tired, Sokka remembered, but there was a glow in her eyes that told him that she was okay, that everything would be fine.

And then, and then, his mama and papa showed him a bundle of fur and asked him to looked into it. Sokka was two and a half years old, and he didn't know what was happening, but he listened to his papa and looked inside the bundle and found a squishy looking tiny human in there.

Baby Sokka, with wide eyes, looked back at his mama and papa, silently asking who this strange squishy looking tiny human was, and he remembered the smiling faces of his parents.

"This Sokka, is your baby sister" his papa, who was still holding the small bundle in his hands, answered his unasked question.

Sokka was two and half years old, and he didn't understand much, but he remembered his two friends who came to play with him, Katto and his sister Kia. They were older than him, but through them little Sokka knew enough to understand that having a baby sister means protecting her.

So Sokka looked back at the tiny human bundled in his father's hands, her eyes looking at him in a new form of wonder he had never seen on anyone else, and swore that he would do anything to protect her.

"I love her papa," little Sokka said, with his little hands trying to reach up and touch the baby's forehead, and drawing something which vaguely looked like a crescent shape with his finger. "I will protect her"

Oh yes, little Sokka was two and a half years old, and he didn't understand much, but the promise he gave that day was never forgotten by him.

Later that day, when he was told that his sister was named Katara, he stitched her name close to his heart, never letting her go, and never forgetting his promise.

Kya remembered the first time she realized the special, sacred bond between her two children. There wasn't anything else to call it, other than it being sacred, spiritual.

When her son was barely older than three years, and little Katara was a few months old, a snow blizzard hit the small village in the Southern Water tribe. They were all advised to stay inside their homes, take precautions, steady the foundations of their huts and igloos, and rationalize their food supplies. They had no idea when the blizzard would end, when they would be able to go outside, or when the sun would peak out of the clouds even for a couple of hours a day.

Those had been bad two weeks. Everyone had been on their wits end because they were stuck inside their homes, and the small fire ignited in the middle of the igloo did nothing to dispel the biting cold. Kya didn't know if her village, her family would survive the blizzard, because Katara and Sokka was too young to be in this cold, and she knew her mother in law was too old to keep up to the cold. It didn't help that most of the time her husband went off through the village, for his chieftain duties, checking on every house to see if everyone was okay, and dread pooled in her stomach when sometimes he failed to come back at the usual time.

It was one of those days. Hakoda was out of the house in the dreading cold snow, Kya didn't know even if it was day or night anymore. Katara was fussing. Her mother in law was working on the pot of broth over the small fire in the middle of the igloo, and her son busied himself by playing with a small figurine of a wolfdog.

Chieftess Kya had all the patience in the world, but sometimes- sometimes- the limit comes when you can no longer take a breath outside of her home for two weeks. Little Katara in her arms did nothing but cry that day. The baby refused the milk she tried to feed her, refused to close her eyes and go to sleep, and Kya was so so tired.

She paced around the igloo in the hope of calming down the child, but it did little to no good. Sokka, who had been playing with his toy had completely abandoned it in favor of paying attention to his sister. Kya didn't know what she would do if he paired with Katara and start crying. She caught the eyes of her mother in law form across the igloo when she looked up from the pot of broth on the fire, and the old woman asked to hold the girl so she could rest. Kya nodded gratefully, and knelt in front of the fire.

Sokka, on the other hand, had other ideas. Keeping aside the wolfdog figurine in his hand, he crawled to his feet from the ice he was sitting on, and waddled his way to Kya by the fire. He looked at her with brilliant blue eyes that looked like the waves of the ocean, with an emotion that Kya couldn't ever place. Slowly, his little arms reached out to the crying bundle in her arms, and Kya let go, only after securing the child safely in her brother's arms.

To the amazement of the occupants in the house, the crying child quieted down, burying her small head in the crook of her brother's neck, and the silence that followed felt almost reverent. It almost looked like the siblings were holding each other, not just the older brother comforting his sister. Kya didn't want to break the silence, and neither as it seemed her mother-in-law.

The old woman was glancing at the two children from her place beside the fire and a soft smile reached her lips. The brother kissed his sister on her temple, and whispered words in her ear that neither woman could hear despite the silence in the house.

Hakoda was Sokka's hero.

Sokka's dad was Sokka's hero, because, well- he was his dad. He told the best stories, he had the best jokes and he was the Chief of the whole Southern Water Tribe! Everyone listened to him. Not that the last point had anything to do with his dad being Sokka's hero. Okay- Being the Chief had everything to do with Hakoda being Sokka's hero.

In Sokka's opinion his dad was the best of the best and Sokka wanted to be just like him when he grow up. A leader. A protector. Sokka couldn't help but glow in pride when he saw the other tribespeople ask for his dad's opinion. He was great at solving conflicts, and Sokka even heard the village elders talk about how wise and just his dad was.

Sokka's favorite pass time when he was young was to see how his dad and the other warriors train. The way how each warrior knew each other's strengths and weaknesses fascinated him, as well as how everyone counted each other's attack with their own.

The young boy, not quite at the age of six sat at one of the old logs positioned at the edge of the training grounds, stuffed in a dark blue parka and snow boots along with mittens made out of tigerseal hide. He was comfortable and excited, because he was pretty sure that his dad would be teaching him on how to be a warrior soon enough, and he couldn't wait to get started. He's going to be the best warrior in the Tribe one day and protect his sister and mother and Gran-Gran and everyone else.

He watched as his father sparred with another warrior -Nuniq, who was about ten years older than Sokka-, parrying an incoming spear with a yank of his club. The Chieftain grabbed his companion's wrist, pulling his arm behind his back while kicking the back of the warrior's knees with his foot, knocking the younger tribesman to his knees. Sokka cheered, jumping up from the log he was sitting on his eyes gleaming like stars, pride welling in his chest.

The happy cry of his son made the chieftain of the tribe to pay attention to the boy, and Hakoda gave the child a wave of his hand before asking his men to train on their own. The man jogged his way to the cheering child, eager to scoop him up in his arms.

"Dad!" the child whined, as his little hands curled around his father's neck, burying his face in the hood of Hakoda's parka. "I wanna learn how to be a warrior!"

"Of course," the father said, chuckling at his son's eagerness, and for once giving in on his request. It still pained him to realize that his kids were growing up, even though the memory of their birth felt as if it were just yesterday. But he knew that it was necessary for living, for survival. "I'm sure you're going to be amazing"

Sokka wriggled in his arms then, too anxious to stay still, while also remembering that warriors don't get picked up by their dads. He was going to be a warrior, so he might as well act as one. The young boy stepped back from his father's hold albeit a bit reluctantly when his boots touched the ground, but it was soon replaced by excitement when the chieftain took his hand and guided Sokka to the weapons stand.

"Will you teach me Boomerang? What about the spears? The knives and the Ulu and the bow and arrows an-"

"Sokka," His dad interrupted his rambling with another chuckle, as they stopped in front of a wooden rack filled with various types of hunting and sparring weapons. He crouched down to the height of his son, meeting the child's bright blue inquisitive eyes. "Listen to me very carefully," he said seriously, his eyes softening but with no hint of a previous smile as he placed his hand on Sokka's shoulder. "You have to understand the first rule of being a warrior of the tribe. Do you remember the story of the Wolf-dog pack?"

Sokka nodded enthusiastically. It was his favorite story. He even heard it the day before from his Mom and Dad as he and his sister went to sleep. Wolf-dogs were highly sociable animals. They move with the pack, led by the most capable of them all. When the Wolf-dog pack is threatened by whatever enemy they are facing, the pack's youth leap forward to protect the cubs and the elderly, ultimately safeguarding the entire pack.

At his son's affirmation, the Chieftain of the tribe patted him gently on his shoulder. "Being a warrior means protecting your tribe with the best of your ability. Being a warrior means outsmarting your opponent. The first rule of a warrior, is to protect the innocent, and protect what's right"

Sokka looked at his father with widened brilliant blue eyes. For a moment there was a flash of fear, which was quickly replaced with a spark of determination. Hakoda felt the guilt heavy on his heart as he spoke his words, wishing if he could save his son from the cruel world beyond the ice. But the Chieftain was no fool. There was no place to call safe in this war torn world, and even if he knew that he'd be getting an ear-full from his wife for speaking of these with their son, he knew that it needed to be done.

"Do you understand my little Snow Boots?" said the Dad, ruffling Sokka's hair and completely destroying his Warrior's Wolftail which his mother tied up that morning.

"I do! I want to protect, Dad! I want to protect Katara, and Mom and Gran-Gran, and you!"

"Alright then," said Sokka's Dad, with a proud smile. "Let's take a look at these weapons shall we?"

At the end of the day, when his Dad asked if he'd like to choose from any of those weapons and why would he pick it, Sokka immediately cried out, "Boomerang! Because it always comes back!"

*Shows up late with starbucks* Sup all!

I'm sorry about the delay. I really am. I've had this half written in my drafts for six months or so, and didn't know how to continue. But then yesterday, inspiration hit, just as i was thinking of studying for my marketing finals. Now I have a new chapter for y'all, and a butt load of theory to cover. smh.

See y'all

-Mel-