Kanna was silent for a moment. She had a grave expression on her face, and her eyes seemed to be staring off into the distance. Nina, Sing, and Ten, young wives with only two children between them, were also silent in deference to the tribe's wise woman and sage.
After a minute of thought, during which Sokka became visibly anxious, Kanna finally spoke.
"It is a dreadful ordeal," she said slowly, her voice scarce above a whisper. Her eyes were dark, and her face was stern. "I can count on one hand the number of times that the Rite of the King has been invoked in the last thousand years of our Tribe's history. It is a dire task, one which only the bravest and most daring of our people have ever undertaken. Not for six generations has anyone survived it."
Sokka's eyes widened. He gulped, and his hands seemed to be trembling inside his heavy mittens.
"Is... is it really that hard...?" he asked nervously.
"Have you ever heard of the Water Tribe having a king before?" his grandmother replied sagely.
"...no. I haven't," said Sokka quietly. He had a look of sobered understanding on his face.
"Then you begin to understand how daunting this task truly is. To become worthy of being called King, in the Water Tribes, is to prove yourself as standing above any other man in the North or South. You must become the living embodiment of our tribes' ideals. A king is more than a chief. He must be wise, and brave, and cunning, and strong. Not only a warrior, or a hunter, but a healer and a builder and a craftsman and a merchant." Kanna spoke with force and conviction, her eyes boring intently into her grandson. "You must become everything that a man of the Water Tribe can be, then surpass yourself and become even more. There is no simple task to undertake, Sokka, to prove yourself worthy. If you choose to take the Rite of the King, you will be driven to hardship like none other. You will suffer, and you will tremble in fear and beg for death. Only in facing the most dire challenges, and triumphing, may you even begin to prove yourself."
Sokka was quiet. He looked anxious, but there was a hint of contemplation in his eyes. His jaw was set, and he stared into the eyes of his grandmother, the Sage of the Southern Water Tribe.
"This is something big," he murmured half to himself. "I don't know... How am I supposed to believe that I can do this? If it's really as hard as you say..."
"Don't believe," said Kanna simply. "To be King, you must pull yourself above your fellow man. You must realize your own limits, and the limits of those around you. You cannot simply believe. You need to know. If you accept this rite, I cannot promise that you will succeed. You will very likely die."
Sokka grimaced, but there was a glint of conviction in his ocean blue pools. "I can't expect to become King if I let something like death scare me off from trying," he said. "Right, Gran-Gran?"
Kanna smiled. "That is the first step," she said. "You cannot be mastered by the fear of death. Not if you wish to come through this alive."
Sokka nodded, to the surprise of Ten and Sing and Nina.
"I'll do it," he said. "I'll take the Rite of the King."
The three young wives and mothers gasped, somewhat astounded by this proclamation. Though they had been the ones to initially suggest it, they were still a little shocked to hear Sokka agree so readily to doing this. Kanna, though, did not look the least bit surprised.
"You are brave, Grandson," she said with a small smile. "Brave, but not foolhardy. Perhaps... perhaps if anyone can complete the Rite of the King, it will be you."
Sokka gave her a lopsided grin. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Gran-Gran." He then stood up straight, and looked around somewhat quizzically at his surroundings. "So... um, how do I start?" he said, a little uncertain now.
Kanna smiled. "First," she said, "you must...
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