Taqalun left the village at dawn with Noatak, leaving Seya behind to tend to Tarrlok.He told them they would be gone for days on a hunting trip.
It was nothing out of the ordinary.
The Northern Water Tribe had long accepted that hunts could stretch on for days at a time. Taqalun was known throughout the village as a renowned hunter, and their family had been running low on food.
No one questioned it.
Noatak had reached the age of ten—when such lessons were not only expected, but inevitable.
Their sled groaned beneath the weight of supplies: dried meat, tools, rope, firewood—everything needed to survive far beyond the village. Taqalun and Noatak pulled at the ropes, trudging through deepening snow, their footprints erased almost as soon as they formed.
The blizzard was merciless. Eventually, they found shelter in a cave at the edge of a vast plain where the forest began. Wolves and buffalo roamed nearby—a hunter's paradise. Night fell, and a full moon washed the snow in silver.
They sat near a crackling fire, facing one another in a silence long enough for the wind's distant whistle to be heard.
"Noatak… it's time I tell you something important. About your future… and my past," Taqalun said, his voice low and measured.
Noatak remained silent.
He didn't speak. He rarely did. Taqalun understood that, and it made him take Noatak more seriously despite his young age.
"My true identity," Taqalun continued, firelight carving sharp lines across his face, "is not Taqalun. It is Yakone. I was a former crime lord of Republic City. Taqalun is a name I created to escape the Avatar's pursuit."
He spoke carefully, letting the confession settle.
Noatak remained calm and silent. He already knew all of it.
Taqalun went on, pride woven tightly with regret.
"I was once a bloodbender of rare skill. The most feared. The most powerful form of bending."
"But it was declared illegal," Taqalun said, jaw tightening, eyes darkening, "thanks to that coward, Katara."
Both of his hands clenched into fists in his lap.
"Our bloodline, Noatak… it is the strongest in history. You have this power. And I will teach you to master it."
His gaze locked onto Noatak's, fierce and commanding.
Noatak raised a hand, palm open, stopping him.
"If bloodbending is the most powerful form," he said calmly, "then how did you lose to the Avatar? How did you let him take your bending away?"
Taqalun faltered. The pause was brief, but heavy. Then anger surged.
"How dare you mock me! You don't understand—"
"You were just weak," Noatak said.
Simple. Absolute.
He turned his eyes toward the moonlit sky, as though the stars themselves were listening.
"I've heard the Avatar is the most powerful bender in history. Master of all four elements…"
He paused.
"And you thought bloodbending alone was enough? That was foolish."
Taqalun's fury ignited. He rose, intent on teaching his son a harsh lesson.
But Noatak's gaze never wavered.
He looked back at Taqalun—no, Yakone.
And then Yakone froze.
His body stiffened, locked in place.
"…This is… impossible!"
Disbelief fractured his voice.
His son—only ten years old—was already bloodbending.
But how?
He shouldn't have any knowledge of bloodbending at all. The sight felt unreal, like a nightmare he couldn't wake from. Worse still, Noatak was doing it with nothing but focus and will—a feat unheard of for someone so young.
The horror rooted Yakone where he stood.
"…It is impossible," Noatak said quietly, staring at him with a hint of disdain.
"…But not for me."
Yakone was lifted from the ground, suspended helplessly, limbs locked in place.
Noatak stood calm and unmoved.
"I will not be your weapon for revenge, Father. I decide what I do. Not you."
He tilted his head to the right—Yakone's left arm wrenched outward. Then left—the right arm followed. Then downward, forcing him to his knees, pressing him into the snow.
"If you ever lay a hand on my brother," Noatak said evenly, "you will face an end worse than death."
He released him.
Yakone collapsed, coughing, muscles screaming as the invisible grip vanished.
Slowly, he looked up.
His eyes were wide—fear mingled with vigilance, and something close to submission.
Noatak's calm was deeply unsettling.
"But fret not, Father. I do intend to claim Republic City for my own," he said almost casually.
Surprise flickered in Yakone's eyes.
"But that's only the beginning. I will conquer the world. Build an empire—unstoppable. Untouchable. Even by the Avatar."
Yakone tried to speak, but no words came.
"If you're wondering why I'm doing this," Noatak continued, "that's none of your business."
"Just understand that I won't act according to your whims. But be assured—you can reclaim the power you once had in Republic City."
Yakone froze, confusion tightening his expression.
"All I need from you, Father, is your support."
And then he understood.
"I'm sure that as a former crime lord, you still have connections in Republic City. People who will answer when you decide to return."
Yakone remained silent, his expression unreadable.
"If you support me—my plan to rule Republic City, and what comes after—everything you ever hoped for will be granted."
Yakone slowly rose to his feet, staring back at Noatak with an unnervingly calm demeanor.
"Is that so?" he said. "Do you truly believe you can achieve all that? You're ten years old—nothing but a boy with some power."
He mocked him openly, unafraid.
"Power alone isn't enough to take Republic City. With or without my help, there are others far stronger. And the Avatar—"
"And that is precisely why I'm confident," Noatak interrupted.
"I know it will be difficult. The odds are slim to none," he continued calmly."But I know more than you think. And I can accomplish more than you can imagine."
"You—" Yakone tried to interject.
"All I need to hear now," Noatak said, "is that you'll support me. And if you don't…"
Yakone's body jerked.
Bloodbending seized him, forcing his hand around the iron-tipped spear resting against the cave wall. The spear rose, its point pressed toward his own throat. Yakone struggled, but control never returned.
"Your life will end right here," Noatak said, cold and calm.
The words were far more horrifying coming from a child.
"So," Noatak asked softly, "what do you think… Father?"
Sweat beaded along Yakone's forehead.
Thoughts raced, colliding, spiraling out of control as he tried to comprehend what was happening.
A minute passed.
Then finally—
"…I'll support you, Noatak."
Thud.
The spear fell from his hand as Noatak released him.
Yakone gasped for air, clutching his chest, staring at the boy before him—no longer a child, but something monstrous.
Noatak smiled.
"Thank you, Father."
He gestured for Yakone to follow.
"Now that that's settled, let's go hunt. I don't want to keep Mother and my little brother waiting too long. They must be starving."
He walked toward the cave's exit, disappearing into the forest beyond.
Yakone stood still, staring at his son's back as the distance grew.
After a moment's hesitation, he followed—spear in hand.
He had lived long enough to adapt to impossible situations. That was how he survived. How he became infamous.
The boy ahead of him was no longer the son he knew.
This was someone else—terrifying, brilliant, powerful.
And yet, a dangerous thought crept into his mind.
Perhaps this was a good thing.
Perhaps this was exactly what he needed.
The fire crackled. The wind howled beyond the cave. Father and son hunted in silence.
Nothing would ever be the same.
…
Three days later, back home.
Noatak understood the risk of revealing his power so early. His father might flee with Seya and Tarrlok—or worse, try to kill him when his guard was down. The latter was unlikely, but never impossible.
His mastery of waterbending and bloodbending at such an age was unnatural. But what could Yakone do? Report him to the authorities? To the Avatar?
That would be the same as turning himself in.
His false identity would unravel. Everything he had built would collapse.
Killing his father had never been an option. It had all been an act. He was still his father. And his death would destroy Seya—and Tarrlok—especially his mother.
Noatak had abandoned his family once before.
He would not do so again.
This time was different.
This second chance came with power stronger than he had before—and connections he had once lacked. It cut the time needed to build his organization by more than half.
And the plan—this time—was flawless.
All that remained was time.
And more resources.
Then the next phase of his plan begins.