Chapter One
Katara ran fingers over her clear skin, thinking of how long she had waited for the Markings of High Valyria. She could almost see how the intricate white swirls would dance across her tanned skin and her lips twitched into a smile at the thought, her glassy azure eyes twinkling in desire and anticipation.
Her brother, Sokka, had received his markings on the eve of his eighteenth birthday – the year of birth that which a boy of the Kingdom of Water is considered a man, and a warrior, and receives their life's goal. The oaths, and the markings, were to be taken under the statues of Tui and La – the Water Gods – to show the faith in the Old Ways.
Glancing away from the smooth skin of her arms, Katara looked into the mirror before her, crafted elegantly at the edges by the ice masons of the Water Kingdom. Her eyes were piercing, and serious, as they should be for someone about to take their markings; it would not a pleasant experience and it signified more than decoration.
The Markings of High Valyria were an ancient tradition, upheld in the Kingdom of Water, to signify their devotion to the Old Ways and the revival of the balance that the world once knew. Cruelty, greed and violence only found purpose in the world that the Kingdom of Fire had created…with it, came hatred. No one could escape such feelings. The markings signified the journey of someone's life from birth until death, but were only administered on the eve of adulthood and added to following each strife, struggle and accomplishment; they marked the passing of innocence, and the need for care, and the arrival of duty and sacrifice. Katara would, today, be sacrificing her beauty and innocence – her unmarked skin – in the name of duty and honour. In ancient times, this would have been the preservation of the four kingdoms with the distribution of water…now, though, it meant so much more.
Her eyes told her what she already knew – that she was ready. She had been ready for years, but would respect the Old Gods, and the New, by following tradition. The ceremony was secretive, and she knew not what she would be facing once the doors to the temple closed…it was forbidden to speak of it before, or after, to someone without their own markings. She feared what was to come, and that was natural, the unknown was not something she was accustomed to. It was the one thing that Katara feared. However, she pushed those thoughts away, for the world she would live in once she received her markings would not be the one she knew now.
The markings were a sign of adulthood, yes, but the sacrifice of your own whims. Katara would be a slave to duty, whatever hers may be. Serving the Old Gods, and the New, meant that with the vow she took, she was bargaining to give her life for the good of the world. This, she did not fear. She had been putting her life on the line for her people since she was a child.
Katara's head turned slightly to glance over her shoulder at the noise she had heard – the arrival of her brother, Sokka. He gave her a curt nod as he entered and she returned it, signalling that he may stay. With a final glance at her own reflection, she turned to face him. He seemed calm, collected, and his usual heir of humour was decidedly absent. She understood, though, this was not a day for jibes and jokes – this was a day for sacrifice. In his hands, he held a gathering of blue material. She knew this to be her garb for the ceremony.
"Kirimvose." She said softly, thanking him for bringing it to her with her familiar, ancient tongue.
As she took the garment, she was surprised to find that it was a long, floor-length dress. Furrowing her brow as she held it up, she heard Sokka laugh gently.
"Expecting something different?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
She was momentarily stunned at seeing such an elegant dress for such a ceremony. Sokka had been dressed in a warrior's garb, complete with war paint and an array of weapons strapped to his back. She could never hope to hide her surprise, or confusion, at being given an evening gown. Certainly, no one could expect her to fight in this? Admittedly, she had hoped she would get to wear the cloth of warriors, not something so…impractical.
"We all face these challenges in different ways, Katara." He said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. It seemed to weigh more than just that, though.
His hand felt heavy on her and she knew it was because of his knowledge of a situation where she was so blind…she had thought a test of ability would be awaiting her – it would have been foolish not to prepare for any possibility, but this had thrown her. Surely, she should have been happy that whatever was asked of her in the temple could be done in such an elegant gown, but it was not Katara's forte.
She had been a warrior since the age of ten, training with her brother – who was two years older – and matching him in every class. Physical combat was not something that frightened Katara; it was the idea of failure that caused a knot to settle in her stomach. Death did not mean failure to her, no, it was the idea of failing to protect those she had sworn to keep safe. Though she had not yet taken her vows, she had been bound to them since she had picked up her first weapon.
The siblings did not speak as Katara went behind the shoji in the room, stripping her familiar clothes from her body and removing her sarashi from her chest and her undergarments. Even though Katara was aware that nothing but the provided could be taken into the temple, she felt unnaturally exposed with just the thin dress covering her body. Nudity was not uncommon for the ceremony, or so she had heard from the legends, but it seemed inappropriate in the world she lived in now. But she would do what was asked of her – and so much more – in order to take her vows and protect her people.
Stepping out from the screen, her feet bare against the cold ice floor, Katara locked eyes with her brother first. He smiled, flushing a little as he looked down at his feet. She flushed herself when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror once again. The dress was extremely well fitted, hugging her body like a second skin, and was a sheer ocean blue. She crossed her arms over her chest, thankful for the small smattering of hair that protected her most private of areas from view. Her face red, she refused to look at her brother again.
"Come." Sokka said softly. She didn't need to be told twice and moved ahead of him into the corridor.
They walked together in companionable, albeit awkward, silence until they reached the mouth of the temple. The doors were closed, as they always were, but would soon be open for the first time in two years. Looking up at the ominous building that she had never been bid to enter, she forgot about her shame and embarrassment at the garment she was wearing and stared at the intricate swirls and statues decorating the entrance. Ice, so smooth that it looked like polished glass, adorned the edges and was frosted to obscure the view of the inside. The last waterbenders had created the temple as a way of begging for forgiveness, and a sign of respect for the Old Gods before they had passed. It had remained untouched, and untarnished, to this day.
It was so beautiful that Katara felt her eyes well up, but pushed them back when she saw her father approach her from one of the few entrances to the mouth of the temple. She locked eyes with him, their gazes never faltered as he came to her side.
He said nothing as he placed a hand around her shoulders, the warmth of his hands piercing through the thin garment. Despite being within walls of ice, the Palace was never cold…the legend says that the Gods created the Palace and blessed it with magic to keep the first Chieftain and his family safe from the harsh elements of the North. However, in this particularly thin outfit, Katara felt a shudder run up her spine. It could not all be attributed to the temperature, however, as the creaking of the solid ice doors opening caused another shiver to ripple through her.
"Valar morghulis."
Katara heard her father's parting words as his arm slipped from around her. She felt his absence immediately, but this was a journey only she could make. This was a journey she must make alone.
"Valar dohaeris." She replied in a whisper as she took her first step forwards, sucking in a deep breath as the mouth of the temple welcomed her inside.
Okay, so what are we all thinking so far? If anything is unclear, let me know. The prologue really just set up the setting for the world they live in…four kingdoms, rather than seven, Old Gods and New pertaining to the Gods that turned their back on them and the New that they call to now (Agni for the Kingdom of Fire).
I'll do my first characters Q&A in the A/N for Chapter 3 (not including the Prologue), so get sending and reviewing!
LivingInACasket
