Note: This is the first story I've written, and even though it's just the prologue, I'm nervous.
I'd really appreciate it if you could leave me a comment!
Warnings: Poor writing and spelling, a few words in Na'vi, fem!Mangkwan reader
To tell the truth, you don’t remember much about your childhood.
Seeing blood and death from a very young age made you view life in Eywa’eveng from a different perspective.
The first smells you recognize as belonging to your home are those of ash and flesh; with every second you spent there, they seeped into you and sank into your skin, turning you into someone born within the Mangkwan clan
Body paint outlined your silhouette—a red-and-black design that covered you from head to toe—while the grayish ash hidden beneath the pigmented patterns concealed every inch of your bright blue skin, masking your tanhi and the scars that had formed over time.
Your life was reduced to that: simply being a marauder, going to damp, overgrown places to steal and destroy everything in your path. You felt no remorse for those animals and people who had been deprived of their lives in those acts committed with great cruelty.
Your role as Tsakarem somehow elevated your status within the clan, and part of you relished the superiority you held over most others, but you couldn’t revel in it too much; Varang was the true matriarch of the clan, respected by many and obeyed by others.
She was a savior to all who followed her, taking in the exiles and emerging as a new prophet of those lifeless lands, a repository of pyroclastic deposits.
To you, Varang was your teacher, your mother, and you admired her in every way; the mother-daughter relationship you shared seemed normal to you. Most of the children in the clan were treated the same way by their parents, and you were no exception.
In reality, there were no real emotional bonds between couples; the tsaheylu was nothing more than a means of mating and satisfying the clan’s needs. There was no love or affection beyond that, it wasn’t considered very important.
But there was something that set you apart from the others, even if you stayed within your clan’s norms.
Because, in Varang’s eyes, you were the most loyal doe she could have among all the warriors who longed to be near her; you were her daughter and the clan’s next Tsahik.
You couldn’t let her down, or that would mean the end of her legacy—the one you protected so carefully.
After all, it was the only thing you had, and you clung to it with all your might, wanting to please your sa’nok in every way possible.
