Chapter 138
*Yakone. Northern Water Tribe.*
The streets of the Water Tribe's capital were bathed in dim light, illuminated only by the unusually bright full moon. In one well-known restaurant, a lively celebration was underway. How could they not mark the occasion of a respected waterbending master's title being awarded? A diverse group, mostly young, cheered on the young prodigy.
"Did you know that our dear Yakone is the second-youngest person in the past century to receive this title?" one of the guests remarked.
"And who was the first?"
"Was it Princess Yue? Or maybe Katara?" others asked.
"Chief Pakku," Yakone said softly, though somehow everyone heard him. There was something about him that set him apart from the crowd. Perhaps a mysterious aura? Who knows... But some of those present felt slightly uneasy in his presence. At times, it felt as if they were sitting beside a predator eyeing them like prey. "As far as I know, he's the youngest master in the past thousand years, according to the records in the Library," Yakone added.
"I wish I had even a fraction of his talent," one of them sighed, and several others echoed the sentiment.
"*Train just a little harder...*" Yakone thought, once again realizing that most benders wanted results without putting in noticeable effort.
"*Now there's someone who could truly make wise use of his gifts,*" he thought, watching the young server tending to their table. Anyone else might not have noticed, but Yakone saw the envy in the boy's eyes as he looked at them. "*Some don't appreciate what they have, while others' efforts will never pay off...*" The world was truly unfair.
A fragment of Vaatu's energy no longer needed to exert any effort. After all, the child who had fallen into his grasp was already eagerly embracing his role as a sort of "Messiah." His own sense of uniqueness and his emerging talent in manipulation had led him to fully believe in his grand mission to balance the scales between the gifted and the ungifted.
After the celebration ended, Yakone returned to his empty home. A month ago, the only person close to him had passed away. His grandmother, who had outlived three chiefs, no longer had the inner strength to remain in this world. In the Healing Huts, she had been treated personally by Chief Pakku, who had been managing her deteriorating health. Perhaps it was the news that her beloved grandson had achieved so much—and could now surely hold his own and even rise in this world—that had finally sent her to her well-deserved rest.