Kon, now a four-year-old boy giggled as he soared upward, the wind swirling around his small feet.
He aimed for an apple tree in Chief Iroh's personal garden, a patch of green on the floating island of Skyloft.
The tree's branches swayed as Kon landed lightly, grabbing a ripe apple and biting into it with a grin. Juice dribbled down his chin, and he laughed, the sound bright and carefree, echoing through the garden.
Below, Kazu, Chief Iroh's gardener, looked up with a scowl, his hands on his hips. "Come down here, you little brat!" he shouted, shaking a fist. "You and your wind have ruined my flowers again! Look at those petals scattered everywhere!"
Kon peeked through the leaves, sticking out his tongue at Kazu. "Nyah!" he taunted, giggling louder.
The wind rustled the branches, as if laughing with him, and a few more flower petals fluttered to the ground.
'He's so grumpy,' Kon thought, munching his apple. 'But it's fun to make him mad. The wind likes it too—it's like my friend, always playing with me.'
Kazu's face reddened. "You brat! I spent all morning tending those blooms, and you just blow them away like they're nothing! Get down here so I can give you a piece of my mind!"
"Now, now, Kazu," came a calm voice. Chief Iroh stepped into the garden, his long grey hair tied back.
He had a gentle smile on his face. "No need to be angry. The boy is only eating apples, and isn't Kon's giggle a sound of peace, like the wind singing through the sails of a ship long at sea?"
Kazu muttered under his breath, crossing his arms. 'Old man's too soft on the kid,' he thought. 'That brat's wind is a menace, and I'm the one who has to clean up the mess.'
But he knew better than to argue with Iroh. "Fine," Kazu grumbled, stomping off toward a patch of trampled flowers. "But don't blame me when your garden's a wreck, Chief."
Kon, still perched in the tree, took another bite of his apple, watching Kazu's retreat with a triumphant grin.
Iroh looked up at the boy, his expression soft but firm. "Now, little Kon, come down here. You might get hurt, tumbling from those branches. Your mother's been looking for you all over Skyloft, calling your name until her voice is hoarse."
Kon tilted his head, chewing thoughtfully.
'Mom's looking for me? Bet she's mad I didn't eat my fish stew.'
He squinted at Iroh, weighing his options. The old man's stories were always good, better than Mom's lectures. A mischievous grin spread across his face. "Old man Chief," he said in his high, childish voice, "if you tell me a story about your time below the island, I'll come down. Promise!"
Iroh's smile widened, his eyes crinkling like the edges of an old map. "Very well, little Kon," he said, his voice like a poet reciting to the stars. "A tale for your descent. Come, and I shall weave you a story of the seas below."
Kon's eyes lit up. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!" he chanted, clapping his hands. The wind gathered around his feet, swirling in a playful spiral, and he floated down from the tree, landing lightly in front of Iroh.
He plopped onto the grass, cross-legged, still clutching his half-eaten apple. 'This is gonna be good,' he thought, his heart racing with excitement. 'Stories about the world below are the best.'
Iroh settled onto a stone bench, his hands resting on his knees. "The world below is vast, Kon. Very vast. Most of it is covered by water, endless blue stretching farther than the eye can see, dotted with islands like stars in the night sky. I sailed those seas long ago, as a pirate."
Kon's eyes widened, sparkling with curiosity. "What's a pirate? It sounds cool!"
Iroh chuckled, his voice warm and nostalgic. "Being a pirate means different things to different souls. For some, it's chasing gold or power. For me, it was freedom—sailing wherever the wind took me, answering to no king or government, exploring the world with a heart unbound."
'Freedom,' Kon thought, biting his apple. 'That sounds like me when I fly with the wind. No one tells me or the wind what to do.'
"Tell me more!" he demanded, bouncing in place.
Iroh's gaze grew distant, as if seeing the seas again. "I traveled with a pirate crew called the Roger Pirates. They were the first in eight hundred years to find Skyloft. I'd lived too long on this island, my bones aching for adventure, so when they asked me to join, I said yes. I wanted to see the world, to feel its heartbeat."
"Woah," Kon said, leaning forward. "Who were they? The Roger Pirates?"
Iroh's smile softened, tinged with longing. "The crew was led by a man named Gol D. Roger, a captain with a laugh that could shake the heavens. He asked me to join because he saw the wind in my soul, the same wind you carry, Kon. I sailed with them, fought battles by their side, ate and drank with them, sang shanties under the stars, and together we found the ultimate treasure—the One Piece."
Kon's jaw dropped, apple forgotten. "Woahhh! The One Piece? What's it like down below?"
Iroh's eyes twinkled mischievously. "The world below is too vast to tell you in one sitting, Kon. It would take years to share its wonders. But don't you want to know what the One Piece was?"
Kon shook his head, his grin fierce. "Nuh-uh! I've decided. I'm gonna find the One Piece myself and explore the world below. It'll be way more fun that way!"
Iroh laughed, a deep, rolling sound like waves on a shore. "I should've expected no less from you, little brat. You've got the heart of a pirate already."
His tone grew serious, though his smile remained. "But the world below is dangerous, Kon. More dangerous for our kind, marked by the elements, hunted by the World Government. They fear what we can do."
Kon puffed out his chest, the arrow on his forehead glowing brighter. "I'll just send them flying!" he declared, flinging his arms out.
Iroh's smile faded slightly, his eyes searching Kon's face. "Sometimes, wind alone won't be enough, little one. The world below tests the heart as much as the body. But I'll teach you fire-bending, the art of bending flame. And if you convince your mom and dad, they might teach you water and earth bending. By the time you're ready to leave Skyloft, you could wield all three along with your wind, strong enough to protect yourself."
Kon's eyes went wide, his mouth forming a perfect 'O.' "All three bending forms? Everyone here only knows one, and I'd know three? I'd be super duper strong!" He jumped to his feet, giggling wildly, and with a flick of his wrist, sent a playful gust of wind at Iroh.
The breeze caught Iroh's neatly tied hair, unraveling it into a messy cascade. Kon laughed and bolted, his small feet pounding the grass as he ran toward the garden's edge.
'He's gonna be mad, but it's so funny!' Kon thought, glancing back. But Iroh just stood, brushing his hair back with a patient smile, his eyes warm with amusement.
Iroh watched Kon disappear around a corner, his laughter echoing.
"Run, little one," Iroh murmured, his voice soft as a prayer. "The world waits for you, and the wind already carries your name."
Iroh began tying his hair back, 'Roger saw the world's end and laughed,' he thought. 'This boy might just do the same.'