#xaela headcanons

[paintedscales]

AuRaugust 2023 - Day 30 - Dawn & Dusk

"I was raised for ten summers without a name. Such is the way of the Tumet."

"In my tenth summer, I was tied to a sacred tree and made to free myself from it. In your tongue, you call them dawn pines. In essence, freeing yourself from these 'dawn pines' is like starting the dawn of a new day. A dawn of having proved yourself worthy of the tribe -- of a name."

"I was always worthy. Even without that trial."

"My name is Nomin tal Kheeriin. In your tongue: Lapis of the Steppe. I gave myself that name, and decided I would not be part of a tribe. For I am of the Steppe -- all the experiences and lessons of the people of the land having shaped me."

"Never did I think I would see myself here, though. Never did I think I would see this kind of dusk; the end of a long chapter in my life. A chapter fraught with so much strife, but also so much growth."

"But here I am despite it all. And I'm surrounded by so much more than I imagined I would be. For that, I am grateful and look forward to a new dawn together."

[faragonart]

"...They declaired you a heretic, too, haven't they?"

headcanon below (HW spoilers)

In the game where the WoL finds Ysayle in the heretic hideout, my headcanon had Ridel chased down by suspect Ishgardian soldiers while on his mission to seek out her hideaway. They were no sooner laid low by his "Moonshadow"- something he had yet to understand or control... and Ysayle had come upon the aftermath...

(It also was the reason why he, Alphinaud and Tataru were tried for herecy upon his return...)

[unbreakable-oaths]

Xaela headcanon time!

Okay, so what if the reason the Dotharl are so positive in their belief of the reincarnation of souls (and are so certain even at birth about whose soul the baby has) is because several Dotharli souls are in possession of at least some degree of soul sight (like what Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus have) and having that sight is a prerequisite for becoming khan.

It’d probably give Emet a headache if he ever found out. Which he probably deserves. And Sadu deserves knowing the Dotharl are Right about reincarnation- not that it would be a surprise to her.

[finalfantasyxivwritings]

About the au ra shedding their scales thing - I'm pretty sure that is canon in the game. There is a tribe of Xaella au ra that make boats decorated with their shed scales.

After going back and refreshing myself with the Xaela tribes, you're correct! The description for the Orben specifically reads:

A tribe that rides up and down the great inner river on boats woven from reeds and reinforced with scales from their own skin.

I appreciate the little touches of background detail we get from the descriptions of all the Xaela tribes; it makes it all the more fun to build off of the canon information, especially for those that don't have an in-game appearance yet.

Since we already know there's at least one tribe of Xaela who use their scales as decoration/reinforcement for their boats, it makes me wonder what other cultural significance that scales and scale shedding hold in other groups across the steppe!

[akirakirxaa]

FFXIVWrite Prompt 8: Shed

Rating: E (that's for Explicit, not Everyone)

Word Count: 3098

Warnings: Sexual content

Summary: [Hyth and Hades Stay AU] Akira's scales have begun to shed, and her insecurities lead her to try to hide it. Hythlodaeus and Hades try to convince her they just want to help her feel better.

Master Post

Akira was riding home after a day of helping out in the Firmament. She’d brought her chocobo, Dog, to play with the kids while their parents were working on the restoration effort, and she’d ended up leading them around on Dog’s back for most of the day. As Dog carried her home in the Empyreum district, the brisk air of Ishgard causing Akira to shiver. She kicked Dog into a trot, hurrying to her small cottage in a quiet corner of the neighborhood. The dark windows told her she was the first one home as she dismounted her bird, leading him to his small stable.

As she removed the riding gear from Dog’s back, she felt an itch tingling on her neck, just at the base of her horn. She absently reached up to scratch, but froze as she felt a bit peel away. Akira pulled her hand away and saw dried, old scales clinging to her nails. She quickly finished settling Dog before hurrying inside and to the nearest mirror. The pale scales on her face and the peeling beginning along her neck confirmed what she dreaded.

It wasn’t that shedding her scales was necessarily a new thing. While it had been a surprising and concerning thing when it had first happened, she had accepted it was just an unpleasant and inconvenient thing she had to deal with. No, what concerned her now was that normally she would sequester herself away and deal with it alone, scraping and picking at the scales, trying to finish the shed as fast as possible and certainly not go out to be seen in such a state. She certainly wasn’t eager to be seen with dead scales curling off her skin. But her usual sanctuary, where she could assure none would see her until her new scales were fully revealed, wasn’t just her home anymore. And she was quickly coming to the realization that she forgot about her unfortunate routine when she’d first asked Hades and Hythlodaeus to stay with her.

She darted to the bedroom, slamming the door shut and, after grabbing a pumice stone and washcloth from the attached bathing room, got to work on trying to complete her shed somehow before they returned home.

~°•○•°~

The sun was almost set by the time Hades and Hythlodaeus returned home. Hythlodaeus, noticing Dog in his stable, crossed over to give the bird pats on the neck. The chocobo chirped happily, only to fall silent and fix Hades with what could only be a glare as he approached.

“Why does he only like you?” Hades grumped, and Hythlodaeus chuckled.

“Maybe he’s jealous,” he teased.

“If he was jealous, he wouldn’t like you either,” Hades pointed out, and his lavender haired companion shrugged.

“Maybe he’s jealous because you have both of our attentions,” Hythlodaeus had a glint in his eye that Hades chose to ignore. The two left the chocobo (after Hythlodaeus slipped him some treats), heading inside to find the cottage oddly dark and silent. They exchanged an apprehensive glance.

Normally when they returned home, if Akira was already there, she would appear to greet them almost without fail. Neither was sure if it was because she wasn’t used to having others in her house, because she didn’t trust them still (despite Hades’ internal fretting, that almost certainly was not the case), or, most likely, she still couldn’t believe that everything could have possibly ended so well. But whatever the case may be, the fact was that both of them could see the residual aether she’d left not long before they arrived and yet there was no sign of her.

“Akira?” Hythlodaeus called, peeking into both the sitting room and the dining room, finding no sign that she’d even been home. Meanwhile, Hades approached the bedroom, arms crossed and head tilted curiously before trying the doorknob.

It was locked.

“Ah!” Akira yelped from the other side of the door. There was the sound of scrambling, and then, “Sorry, just, uh, taking care of something. Shouldn’t take long, just uh…give me a little bit, okay?” Hythlodaeus had approached at the sound of her voice, and the two men exchanged an apprehensive glance.

“Are you okay?” Hades called back.

“Never better!” The tone in her voice said she was anything but. “Just something I need to take care of by myself. It won’t be — ow — long!”

They both blinked at the tiny, pained exclamation. Hades, scowling, lifted his hand to likely magic the door open, but Hythlodaeus rested his hand over top. Whatever she was dealing with, she didn’t want them to see, and to force her to share would just make it worse.

“Do you need some help?” he kept his voice gentle, and the frantic scrabbling noises on the other side slowed.

“N-no,” she stammered. “I can handle it.” As she spoke, they could hear the flinch in her voice as whatever it was pained her again.

“Would it help if only one of us came in?” Hythlodaeus pressed again, gently, and there was silence. They heard the click of the lock.

“J-just Hades please,” she spoke hesitantly. They both glanced at each other in surprise; normally when she was uncomfortable she reached for Hythlodaeus, as he was the less prickly of the two and certainly the more soft in his approach. To ask for Hades meant it had to be something she didn’t want Hythlodaeus to know about.

But, respecting her wishes, Hythlodaeus stepped back as Hades let himself in, closing the door behind him.

~°•○•°~

Akira bit her lip as she scratched at her arm with the pumice stone, flinching at the scrape against the fresh scales under the old. They weren’t soft the way skin was, but they were softer than her usual scales. She glanced up and her eyes met Hades’ as he took in her condition and concern made way for disapproval.

“This is all? You’re shedding?” he demanded, coming closer and taking her arm, clearly peering at the plentiful scratches and irritated scales where she’d forced several to depart before they were ready, some oozing blood. “And you’re not even taking care of it properly.”

“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbled defensively. “I don’t like anyone seeing and I certainly didn’t want…” Her voice trailed off, but she knew he would understand. Hythlodaeus was blissfully ignorant of a lot of the biological processes that marked the auri as different, outside of the obvious horns and scales. Processes that Akira was deeply embarrassed by and wished she didn’t have, like shedding. She asked for Hades because she figured, in all the lifetimes he’d lived since the Sundering, surely he had already seen it before. And by his quick understanding of the situation, she had been correct.

“If you think he would think any less of you over a little dry skin—“

“It’s not a little dry skin! It’s dead scales all over the place and it’s gross.” At that, Hades took her face in his hands, and though his face was still stern, his eyes were kind.

“Your body is not ‘gross’,” he said firmly, and she held her tongue that wanted to rage that yes it is and if that stupid banquet had never happened I’d still just be normal like everyone that doesn’t have scales. “I’m going to call Hythlodaeus in to tend to these scratches, and I will go fetch the correct items to take care of you.” Still terrified of the inevitable disgust in Hyth’s eyes, Akira hesitated before giving a slow nod. Moments later Hades had left and Hythlodaeus had entered, settling into a chair and sitting her on his lap, facing away, running his hands along her arms as gentle magics knit the scratches and scabs back together.

“You always do this by yourself?” he asked her, and she stared at her hands, at the pale, dry scales peeling on her fingers.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I…I don’t know if Hades told you, but I didn’t always know I was auri. I lost my memories of everything during the calamity, when Dalamud fell, and at the time I was enchanted to look hyur, so. When the enchantment broke… Well, I can’t get rid of the scales or the horns, but I could hide…this.” Injuries tended, Hyth pulled her back more firmly against him, his head resting on hers.

“You don’t have to hide here,” he assured her. “I think everyone’s bodies do things they’re embarrassed by, but that doesn’t make you any lesser. In my eyes or anyone else’s I’m sure. Certainly not Hades’ either.”

Akira was afraid to respond around the sudden lump in her throat. Part of her still remembered, in her dark moments when she was unsure that they truly wanted to be here, Hades’ more harsh words. Disappointment and found wanting often came back to haunt her even as she told herself it was spoken from a place of pain and suffering and tempering. She worried that they’d only stayed out of obligation, that after she’d kept what was left of the world from falling once again to the Final Days, now or ever again, they felt like they’d had to come back to see her safely home. But here, in Hyth’s embrace and hearing his kind words, it was easier to believe that they did stay because they cared for her.

“Could…could you scratch my back? Shedding is…itchy. And I can’t reach,” she asked hesitantly, and he pressed a quick kiss on the top of her head.

“Of course,” and he started scratching, gently at first just in case, at her back through her shirt, and Gods this was so much better than finding a rock or a tree or trying to find the ever elusive back scratcher to scratch with. She arched her back towards his hand as he scratched.

“That’s so much better,” she sighed in relief, and she could feel more than hear him chuckle behind her. At that moment, Hades reappeared in a swirl of shadow, a small basket of ointments and oils on one arm.

“I’m hoping this will be enough, but if not I can go back out,” he headed towards the bathing room, then glanced back at them. “Unless you want scales all over the bed, I suggest we do this in here.” Akira swallowed nervously before standing, and she headed for the bathing room herself, Hyth following behind her.

The bathing room was softly lit with glass domes of light and fairy lights woven in between strands of ivy, enclosing the large bath, magically fed constantly by a waterfall and warmed without need of any kettle or fire crystals. It had been added shortly after Hades and Hyth had moved in, the former declaring that since there was no pretense to uphold anymore that he was going to set up a proper bath.

Well, having two suitors with ancient creation magics certainly had its perks.

Hyth settled onto the bench alongside the bath as Akira averted her gaze. Another reason she’d never asked for help was that, to properly reach the majority of her scales, she would have to remove her clothing and that was just something she didn’t trust most with. Even now, though to say she hadn’t been intimate with either of them would be a lie, to put her body on display when it was at its, in her opinion, ugliest was proving to require a kind of courage that she wasn’t sure she had.

Ridiculous, she thought to herself. I’ve literally been to the edge of the universe, and they’re just trying to help me. This is stupid. Just do it. She took a deep breath and pulled off her shirt first, a rain of shed scales falling from it as she did so.

“You should probably remove your shirt too, these will probably stain,” Hades peered at one of the jars as he spoke to Hyth, who clearly had no problem with it, his shirt fluttering to the ground as Akira removed her trousers as well, long, thin strips of dry scales going with them. She’d been cursed with much more abundant scales than the usual au ra, all but her softest skin covered in them from neck to feet. She met no one’s gaze as she sat back in Hyth’s lap, back stiff. She felt his fingers following her scales to where they disappeared beneath her breast band, then brushing over her hip where her undergarments covered scales there too.

“I think,” he hummed. “These will need to go too. Or we might miss some.” It took very little imagination to think of the mischievous expression he probably wore. She bit the inside of her cheek.

“W-we could work a-around them,” she stammered. “And I can handle that part m-myself.”

“But you just said you can’t reach the ones on your back,” his voice was like velvet against her horn and Gods dammit if it wasn’t doing things to her. She gaped as she tried to summon an argument when she heard Hades give an irritated sigh before stepping in front of them, setting the jar he’d been inspecting aside on the sink. He took her chin between thumb and forefinger and tipped her head back to look at him.

“Off.” It was an order, and it was clear what he meant, and Akira’s face felt like it was on fire. And despite her misgivings still, she found herself following the instruction. Hyth, a small huff of amusement escaping despite his clear attempt to hold in it, gathered her hair up and secured it in a pile on top of her head, away from the scales on the back of her neck where he then pressed a light kiss.

She pretended she didn’t see the little knowing smirk on Hades’ face as he went to get the treatments he’d found. He returned with two jars, handing one to Hyth. She tried to reach for it, but Hyth set it out of reach and took her hands in his, placing them back on her lap.

“Let us take care of you,” he insisted, and she fought her instinct that she could take care of herself just fine, because that little place she’d long since recognized as the last little bits of Azem’s, of Persephone’s, lingering will told her that this was how they’d always been. Taking care of each other. She didn’t know if it was real, but a memory of them caring for an injured Persephone appeared in her mind’s eye and she found herself wanting that. So she left her hands where he put them as he reached for the jar. Hades plopped a small dollop on the triangle of scales on her forehead, making sure they were coated before moving on.

The lotion was soothing, easing the constant itch the shedding always brought and bringing a warm, soft feel as it soaked into the scales. She went from watching anxiously to leaning forward languidly as Hades worked the salve into her neck scales and Hyth applied it to her back and hips. While they started very businesslike, as she relaxed, so did they. Fingers brushed against soft skin between applications, brief enough to call an accident but not a one of them was fooled. Hyth leaned her back against his chest as he followed a line of scales from her back to where they curved along her ribs. Then, once they were coated, his hands brushed across the bottom swell of her breasts as Hades crouched to apply the ointment to her lower legs, gold eyes catching her amethyst as he placed a light, gentle kiss to the inside of her knee.

The whine that escaped her was most undignified and, startled by her own reaction, she sat straight up and, surprising herself, tried to stand. Hyth settled his hands back on her hips.

“Do you want us to stop?” He asked. Hades took his hands away, giving her the space to decide whatever she may. She took a breath. Did she?

“No,” she finally answered, and that was all the confirmation they seemed to need as they resumed their attentions. Hyth wrapped his arms back around her, pulling her against his chest as his hands resumed their exploration of her breasts. Hades finished the application to her leg scales and began to kiss his way up the bare skin of the inside of her legs, knees, thighs, and—

“Mmph!” Akira covered her mouth with one hand, flushing bright red as he licked up the very core of her. Hyth reached up to pull her arm away, gently rubbing her wrist as he did.

“None of that,” he chastised smoothly, quietly. “Let us hear you.” His other hand helped Hades as they moved her legs to drape over Hyth’s, spreading her wider. And then…

Then, Hades devoured her.

Hyth settled his face on her shoulder, murmuring encouragement against her horn as she moaned her pleasure into the room around them, his hands dancing over the skin of her stomach and breasts, alternating between gentle fondles and sharp pinches that stoked her fires ever hotter. And Hades never stopped, laving her with his attentions as if he’d starved for her for eons.

Mayhaps he had.

She was almost lost to the sensations when she felt his long fingers pressing at her core, her own wetness easing the way in for first one, then two, and she keened loudly as they curved inside to hit just the right spot to chase any ideas of self consciousness or embarrassment out of her head. Hyth tilted her head towards him, leaning forward to swallow her cries in a passionate kiss.

It was too much, it was too much.

And then she fell apart, jerking forward, head tossed in a loud groan and her hands burying themselves in silver hair as her hips chased the last of it until she collapsed against Hyth, muscles feeling like jelly. Hades stood and leaned over her, kissing her slow and deep, her own taste still on his tongue. He broke away with a self satisfied smirk.

“We’ll need to leave the salve a little longer, then you’ll need a soak to loosen the scales left and wash off the residue not absorbed,” he explained as if nothing had happened. Hyth chuckled as he cuddled her close against his bare chest.

“See, isn’t this better than dealing with it by yourself?” he crooned, and full laughed as she reached over, into the bath, and splashed water on him.

[AO3 link]

[matcha-bnuuy]

Prev post about viera honks made me also want to mention an au ra headcanon a friend and I have about how they can make baby crocodile laser beam chirps as newborns and children which slowly develops to those guttural rumbles and deep 'singing' that gators do to each other as they age. Most other races can't hear the deeper rumbles much like we can't, but au ra hearing through their horns and skull can pick up on the super low vibrations.

These sounds are usually territorial threats to ward off enemy tribes, but softer rumbles can also be sounds of joy and affection like purring. Inspired by irl dinos and crocodillians! 🦖

[duskmother]

Auraugust 2023

Day 2: Contest

Iduyan mages often find themselves interlocked in cross-generational feuds that only end when a head of a family admits defeat and accepts exile. The Khatun represents the family with the largest amount of victories and thus is considered a chosen of Nhaama, heir to secrets the Iduyan have kept in Her name for millennia.

-> Auraugust Master Tag

[dillydallyvali]

Rising Sun, Chapter One: Brooding or Brainstorming?

(The first and oldest of my story gposes. Predates a lot of current stuff just because I've gotten a lot better at this in the past year and some months.)

[nyteklovn]

Qalli Headcanons for Xaela rpers

Hello! I have recently put together a list of headcanons for the Xaela Tribe: Qalli, They are the songbirds of the steppe and a tribe that I absolutely love with all of my being, music is truly an inspiration and being able to brain storm with a whole tribe dedicated to music is really really fun! I hope you like the list I made, this is all just personal headcanons! https://docs.google.com/document/d/1s3tt_ZN4rFLnDDzf7FUYlH2CTauhoXEf9wmqcNoVRhY/edit?usp=sharing 

[moonlightpaladin]

Thanalan

Dalamus enjoys drawing scenery, plants, and animals :) It’s his way of carrying places and memories with him wherever he goes. He’ll also write down notes of his drawings, such as animal habits or usage of plants and herbs.

[tsunael]

— Headcanon

About an Au Ra's horns, and Tsuna's loss thereof:

I imagine an Au Ra's horns carry great cultural significance for them, and that significance would vary based on both region and clan. Though, for every Au Ra their horns are a source of pride: they determine when one comes of age, and grow with them until the day that they die (as sourced by the long horns the elder models have).

Word of God says they are are able to break and will regrow. I like to think that the Xaela would view losing a horn as a positive (tribe depending)-- it means they fought well and lived to see another day. Something akin to a battle scar.

For Raen, it is a great shame. They lost a part of their identity and a part of their heritage. It means they did not fight hard enough-- stemming from when they were taken in by the warlords of Othard purely for their fighting prowess.

For Tsuna, losing one of her horns to Zenos at the end of the final battle was a great blow to her mentality. She inherited her horn shape from her mother, and the loss of them makes the loss of her mother feel twofold. For a time, she experiences vertigo until her other horn is forced to be culled to match its twin.

However, with loss there gives rise to new beginnings. There's some symbolism of her outward-facing horns being broken in that she is finally able to accept love and take it for herself. Tsuna has always had a Hedgehog's Dilemma-- in every sense of the word. This is simply a physical way of breaking down her offense.

Basically... intimacy was near impossible before, and now she can smooch anything she wants. 'Once, she abstained, and now she devours' and all that. It also begins her journey of reflection of her culture and where she stands in it, and the slow process of undoing the harsh stigma that she was raised with. As a Raen, I also feel that there's a lot to say on her view of being a diaspora, but I'm not qualified to write that out at the moment.

[paintedscales]

010. Malqir

Stopped on their way back to the Sagahl Iloh thanks to the enthusiasm of Bayarmaa and Barghujin both, Nomin is introduced to the tribe and customs of the Malqir. During her time there, she gets to see a lot of what the Malqir practice with great importance to their tribe. The game is fascinating, sure! But then there are some other aspects that arise that give Nomin pause. From there, a needed pep talk is given.

Word Count: 4,496

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

It was only a day’s travel from the Sagahl Iloh when the van made its next stop due to making good time in their travel. The idea was less of Esenaij’s, and more of both Bayarmaa and Barghujin’s -- both who seemed excitable enough. What inspired the idea of stopping was the fact that there was a new site that had been erected in the time that they had been away till now. The colors that the ger and members bore made Nomin think of the Oronir momentarily before she realized the shade of yellow seemed darker -- leaning more toward an earthy orange.

More striking about the site, however, were the array of decorations that made up the site of the iloh they took a pause at. Khiimori flags were strung up -- something that Nomin thought were only reserved for things like burials or proving grounds like Bardam's Mettle.

“What tribe is that one?” Nomin asked, leaning over the railing of the wain, arms draped over the side as she looked over. The smells as they neared the iloh were delicious, and Nomin’s mouth watered almost painfully as she took in the scents. Whatever tribe it was, they must have been cooking up a veritable storm if the smells were so apparent even a good several yalms away still.

“That’s the Malqir,” Keuken replied. He pointed out the bonfire and the members who danced around it. “It’s not really our place, though if this is the place the Malqir have chosen for their new site, then they should be preparing for their annual kharaqiq tournaments. Certainly smells like it.”

Nomin’s face scrunched in confusion, and she straightened up. She looked over in Keuken’s direction. “What’s ‘kharaqiq’?”

“It’s kind of like shatar. Have you ever played that one?” Bayarmaa asked, hopping off the wain.

“Only the adults in the Tumet really ever played,” Nomin replied, thinking back on what she remembered of shatar. The rules were a bit too complex for her at the time, but she remembered liking the pieces and how they were carved in the shapes of khans or animals, painted in glossy black or white.

“Well, it’s kind of like that, except that the board is separated into three rings, biggest to smallest moving inward. The goal of the game is to capture all three territories -- the rings -- or if you can’t do that before the time is up, capture at least two,” Bayarmaa explained. “The game is a little above my level of understanding, but it's definitely the festival that we should at least see if we can partake in!”

“You know we have nothing to offer, right?” Esenaij asked, a sense of exasperation strained within his voice. “You certainly can't expect us to be able to walk right in with nothing we can give.”

“I bet life would be a lot easier for you if you weren't always stifled by your trader's brain!” Bayarmaa huffed, balling her hands into fists and placing them on her hips as she looked up at Esenaij. She puffed out her cheeks, and Esenaij only looked down at Bayarmaa with a look of mild annoyance as her tail flicked with irritation behind her.

“It would do you good to learn to have something to exchange just in case you can’t always rely on the good will of others,” Esenaij shot back.

Barghujin leaned on the outside of the wain next to Nomin, a small smirk tugging at their lips. They whispered to Nomin, “we should get started on our way over. The Malqir are usually pretty amicable toward spectators of their tournaments. Helps shake their nerves out, especially if they aspire to be chosen as khan or khatun. Besides, I bet Esenaij and Bayarmaa will keep up their squabbling until they see us leaving without them.”

The clear jest made Nomin giggle, and Barghujin grinned as they stood back up and held their hands out. Instead of hopping out of the back of the wain like usual, Nomin crawled over the side of the wain and leaped into Barghujin’s arms. With a swift and powerful swing, Barghujin brought Nomin to ride upon their shoulders as they started on their way toward the Malqir Iloh.

Briefly, Nomin and Barghujin were halted by some of the Malqir guardsmen. Much like their time with the Dotharl, they, as Sagahl, were permitted entry into the iloh grounds. Not long after them, Keuken and Daritai came along, and then both Bayarmaa and Esenaij. It was as Barghujin said when it came to the two of them: once they saw everyone else leaving without them, they were quick to wrap up their minor argument.

Looking at everything from her perch atop Barghujin’s shoulders made a smile spread wide across Nomin’s face as she gazed around at everything, and took in all the different things. The dancers around the bonfire, the musicians playing the morin khuur or engaging in khoomei to vocalize alongside the strings, the various smells of frying meats and bread, and most notably, the tables that were set up with neat rows of a checkerboard game divided into those aforementioned three rings, and even other tribe members that were enjoying visiting. Everything there was relatively new and exciting for Nomin.

“Do you have friends in the Malqir?” Nomin asked Barghujin, leaning forward and looking down at them. “It feels like the Sagahl have so many friends!”

Barghujin’s shoulders rumbled with gentle laughter, and they reaffirmed their hold on Nomin’s legs so she did not fall from them. “I have a couple. I don't know if they'll be participating in this year's kharaqiq tournament, though. None of them felt too particularly interested in claiming the title of leadership.”

“But they play?”

“Everyone in the Malqir is taught to play,” Barghujin started. “It's their way of life as a more pacifist tribe like us. They're great at things that involve planning ahead and strategic measures.”

“What we learn is also good for keeping track of our supplies and resources so that we know when to prepare or trade for more. When to hunt and gather to restock for the seasons as they come and go. Not to mention planning for proper migratory routes and avoiding unwanted trouble,” came a new voice. Barghujin turned with a grin while Nomin looked inquisitively in the new person's direction. She was just a little shorter than Barghujin, and her horns curved forward. Her deel draped loosely around her, and her hair was pulled back into braids.

“Sanchir!” Barghujin greeted her happily as they approached the Malqir tribesperson. “Long time no see! Missed you at the Naadam.”

“The current khan decided it best to keep moving through the time of the Naadam until we ended up here,” Sanchir said in response, a small shrug accompanying their words. Sanchir’s attention then went up to Nomin, who stared back at her inquisitively. “Though it seems to me you’ve been busy playing caretaker, Barghujin. Who is this little one? I daresay I don’t recognize this one from the Sagahl, though she bears your colors.”

Barghujin pat Nomin’s leg twice lightly and introduced her: “this is Nomin! She’s new to our tribe.”

Sanchir took a moment to consider this, a hand going to her chin. After a few seconds, her brow went up with the realization. She then looked up at Nomin with a small smile. “Ah…the timing seems right. A former child of the Tumet, then?”

Nomin nodded with a small ‘mhm…’ and her expression fell only slightly. She then re-composed herself and pointed in both Esenaij and Bayarmaa’s direction; “Esenaij and Bayarmaa are my new family! Esenaij brought me back from Reunion.”

“... Interesting…” Sanchir commented, her eyes flicking back and settling on the Sagahli siblings. She gave her attention back to Nomin. “Is this your first time getting to attend the Malqir's kharaqiq tournament? Outsiders aren't allowed to compete, of course, but you are allowed to at least watch and join in the festivities.”

Nodding, Nomin gave another ‘mhm’ in response to Sanchir. Barghujin then reached up and leaned down, getting Nomin settled back onto the ground. With her little tail wiggling inquisitively behind her, Nomin stayed close and looked around once more. She then looked at Sanchir and asked, “do you fry up boortsog for the festival?”

Daritai walked forward, placing his hand on Nomin’s head and ruffling her hair. He and Nomin had forged more of a friendship since he started teaching her how to hold and maintain a bow during their downtime. Since, he had become much more of an elder-sibling figure like Esenaij and Bayarmaa.

“Has food been the only thing on your mind since we’ve been here?” Daritai asked. It was not often that Nomin got to see him express amusement, but the smile that tugged at his lips was unmistakable. “Although, I guess we could use something to eat. Can't really sustain ourselves off of the desert's blessings and our dwindling rations alone.”

Approaching Nomin, Sanchir leaned down so that they were both at eye level. She smiled gently and then motioned toward the rest of the Iloh.

“I have a little brother that should be closer to the kharaqiq tables beyond the bonfire. He’s about your age, you might be able to find him and have him show you around if you’re interested,” Sanchir suggested. She then lowered her tone in a friendly manner, “he could also show you where the buffet is so you can sate your hunger.”

At that, Nomin’s tail flicked up.

The involuntary action did not go missed by Sanchir, either. She rose to her full height and drew her hands together as she gave a soft, amused chuckle.

“My little brother’s name is Arasen. He’s a good couple of ilms taller than you, and his eyes are striking. I don’t think you’ll be able to miss him. If you’re uncertain, his limbal rings glow brightly with a near-white color from yellow,” Sanchir explained. “Think you'd be up for finding him? Just tell him I asked you to find him.”

“Okay!” Nomin affirmed with a grin. She turned to start on her way as it seemed the Sagahl were wanting to catch up with Sanchir in some capacity. It was clear that they were well acquainted with one another, and as the Sagahl informed Sanchir of their travel out to the Dotharl Khaa to gift a boon for their win in the Naadam, Nomin found herself paying more attention to everything else. 

Wandering further away from the older Sagahl and Sanchir, Nomin ventured into where more of the festivities were taking place. Her inquisitive expression gave way into bright excitement as she explored. When she neared the dancers around the bonfire, Nomin noted the woven structures that surrounded it in multitudes. Sticks and dried reeds were woven together to create shapes akin to creatures of the Steppe; tigers, horses, camels…

It then struck Nomin that each of the structures were reminiscent of the shatar pieces she had seen prior during her time with the Tumet. The realization made Nomin consider briefly just how important this game was to their way of life.

… If only she had been born to a tribe that valued games and gameplay. Perhaps that would have been fun!

A dancer maneuvered around Nomin, a giggle heard as they passed. Nomin looked after them, brought back to the fact that there were people celebrating and having fun. She started walking again, her gait quick as she looked for this Arasen boy, or the mentioned buffet. Whichever came first.

Nomin was certainly more keen on following her nose rather than going toward the rows of tables set up with the circular game boards. She noted the people that sat at the tables, their knees or rears nestled upon the cushions. Everyone looked a mix of either focused, self-assured, or gleeful. The sight was almost akin to what Nomin recalled of the warriors in the Tumet before they prepared for battle…

The growl in her stomach reminded Nomin to return to following her nose. Picking up the pace, she eventually saw some groups of people shuffling around a canopy that covered members of the Malqir that stewed, grilled, steamed, and fried foods. That was the place Nomin soon found herself jogging toward. It seemed she had no need to seek out Arasen after all!

Meandering and weaving through people, Nomin eventually met her goal: the Malqir cooks who were frying things like khuushur and boortsog. Her tail wiggled excitedly and impatiently behind her as she ran forward to eagerly ask for some. In addition to her little plate of boortsog, Nomin was given a small bowl of urum, and a small bowl of jam. Happily, she thanked the Malqir who fried the treats up for her, and she returned to wandering until she could sit close to those who were entrenched in playing kharaqiq between one another at the boards that were set out.

Idly, Nomin munched on the fried bread bits, crumbs falling on her deel and into her plate. She watched how others were playing kharaqiq, hoping to glean some kind of understanding of the game from those closest to her. As time went on, and both her boortsog and pairings eventually disappeared, Nomin was no closer to understanding the game than when she was first told how the game kind of worked.

“Obsidian is set to capture ivory's territories in just two more moves there. So long as obsidian doesn't get blocked into the silver ring to standstill,” a boy spoke. His voice startled Nomin into flipping her empty plate and bowls onto the ground with a small clatter. She left her seat, gathering up the mess of dishes before she furrowed her brow at this boy.

He looked a little sheepish before he took in Nomin's appearance fully. He kind of gave a ‘hmph’ at her, his eyes flicking between her face and her horns. It seemed he took better notice of the discoloration on her scales.

Crinkling her nose with some annoyance, Nomin was about to take a seat back where she was before she noted his eyes. She had almost forgotten what Sanchir said, and this boy seemed to fit the description she was given earlier.

“Are you Arasen?” Nomin asked.

“Huh?” The boy was taken aback by the question as he looked at Nomin with surprise. His near-white limbal rings were that much more prominent as a result. “Yeah, that's me. But who in the hells are you? No one from the Sagahl I know, that's for sure.”

Nomin rolled her eyes at Arasen's tone. She knew it well enough from her time with the Tumet. The tone of someone who thought of themselves too good to have been in the presence of someone not as blessed by Nhaama. However, she introduced herself and explained that she and the Sagahl were passing through, saving the fact that Sanchir told her to seek him out later for last.

“... Well, it seems evident that you didn't really do that last part…” Arasen replied. He still had a bit of a tone to his voice that indicated displeasure, but it was less obvious.

“Sanchir said you could show me where the buffet was, but since I already found where all the food was being prepared, yeah… I guess I didn't really want to burden you with the responsibility of having to hang out with me if I found everything I wanted,” Nomin replied. She used words she was used to hearing from the Tumet when it came to her. Especially since the disposition felt similar.

Arasen bit his tongue, his lips twitching back in a deepened frown. “My sister will be upset if she doesn't find us together, I imagine. Clearly she trusts me to watch over you.”

Nomin pursed her lips out in an exaggerated pout.

“I'm not a little child,” Nomin protested.

“Little enough! Your horns and tail haven't even fully developed yet!” Arasen steeled his stance on the matter. It seemed to Nomin that he must have valued his sister’s trust enough to tolerate this interaction that clearly was not to his taste.

Nomin sighed, turning her attention back toward the closest kharaqiq players. She then pointed at them -- rather, their board. She hesitated, but then finally asked, “can you tell me about kharaqiq at least? Bayarmaa told me it was like shatar, but…where I'm from, only those with a name play such games.”

For a moment, Arasen's face twisted into confusion over the tail end of Nomin's words.

“... I'm not even going to ask what that means…” Arasen muttered before shifting his attention toward the kharaqiq board. He stifled a sigh and then explained the rings and what they represented. Gold, silver, copper -- sometimes they would instead be represented by polished stone, ivory, or wood of differing colors. “Each of the rings is a territory. You and your opponent start with your territories, and the pieces do kind of move just like shatar pieces with some minor differences. The point is to capture as many of your opponent’s pieces while also working to capture the open territory -- ring, in this case.”

Pointing at the sand timer next to the players, Arasen directed Nomin’s attention toward it.

“Players have a quarter of a bell to finish the game. At least in tournaments like these ones,” Arasen continued. “If you're aware of the pieces and how they move, then it's a battle of wit and endurance with opponents that are just as familiar. But, if you're inexperienced -- like you are -- you'd probably lose in five moves or less.”

Nomin huffed, not exactly appreciating the insinuation. Even if Arasen was most likely correct in his statement.

The more that Arasen explained the game, however, the more that his words fell on deaf horns. He seemed to grow evermore elated as he talked about movement of pieces and the importance of them. For Nomin, however, the longer he spoke, the more all that information muddied together. It was becoming too much to really remember, thus she started to tune him out.

Watching the players, however, Nomin got a little bit of the gist. Ultimately, she became simply taken with just watching them and seeing the game progress.

Black won by the time the timer ran out, their pieces occupying two of the rings. The player controlling the obsidian pieces smiled to themselves before offering a polite bow to their opponent. Surprisingly to Nomin, both players were incredibly amicable toward one another. She would not have been too happy in defeat, at least that was what she thought to herself.

“What an exciting game that was!”

Oh. Right. Arasen was still there.

Looking over, Nomin pursed her lips slightly.

“How long is this tournament going on today?” Nomin asked.

“The first half has already ended,” Arasen replied. “We're in the second half. What you saw there should have been the third or fourth game since. Over the next couple of bells, there's probably going to be another dozen or so games. Since this is day one, everyone interested gets to play, and moving on to tomorrow's games comes down to how many matches you win.”

“Hm…” Nomin took a moment to think. She then looked at the now empty seats at the kharaqiq board they had been watching. “So then the person who lost during the match we just watched still has an opportunity to advance to the next round?”

“That's correct,” Arasen confirmed. He then shifted into a standing position, placing his hands on his hips. “Tomorrow's rules also change, but only slightly. Instead of having a bunch of matches throughout the day, tomorrow, everyone is only going to have three matches that more quickly narrows down the numbers. Today is more about fun and seeing if you qualify.”

“That's…pretty neat, actually,” Nomin admitted. She thought more about the culture that centered around playing a particular type of game. She supposed it made sense that there would be opportunities to face everyone and even learn something new from the other members of the tribe. The knowledge also made the amicable exchange at the end of the game much more respectable.

“Do you want to try playing a game?”

The question caught Nomin off guard. Looking in Arasen's direction, Nomin’s face scrunched up with contemplation to the idea. Would it have even been fair to have played a game she clearly had no experience in against someone who already had the clear upper hand?

“I don't know…” Nomin finally said after a moment. “I feel like…I'd lose right away.”

“I can go easy on you.”

Nomin's frown creased. She then shook her head in response. “I think I'm fine watching other people play for now. Thanks, though.”

“Alright,” Arasen did not sound too dejected by the rejection. “It's not good of us to force a game if the prospective opponent doesn't want to play. So…if you don't want to play, there's nothing I can do about that.”

It was a surprisingly mature response from someone whose first impression of Nomin was that of disdain. At least as far as Nomin knew and recognized.

In short time, however, Arasen offered to lead Nomin back to the food canopies -- if only to return the dishes she was granted use of. When they got back, Nomin was more than willing to go ahead and try more foods before she and Arasen eventually met back up with the other members of the Sagahl, and Arasen's elder sister, Sanchir. Nomin’s mouth had run with a sheen from the meats she had been eating alongside some mantuu, and she quickly ran the back of her sleeve along the bottom of her face to remove any of it.

“Have fun?” Bayarmaa asked, as the two approached. She offered a small smile, assuming that Nomin had been able to make yet another friend.

“I think the game is neat to watch. Arasen explained the game to me,” Nomin replied as she jogged up to meet with Bayarmaa and the others proper. She noticed that they were largely eating bread with jam, and stewed vegetables.

“Oh? How did that go?” Bayarmaa sipped some of the broth in her bowl after she asked her question.

Nomin shrugged in response; she had no strong feelings one way or another. Plus…she did not actually catch everything Arasen actually said. So, with that in mind, she replied, “I think I kind of get how the pieces move and how you're supposed to get the pieces in the rings. But I don't think I could play kharaqiq and have fun…”

Sanchir lifted a hand to her mouth, a rather amused laugh falling from her lips as her tail flicked upward a couple times. Nomin felt her cheeks prickle and warm, a slightly fluster arising in her.

“My apologies… That just seems to be a common sentiment shared among others outside our tribe. At least…I've heard it more times than not,” Sanchir said, explaining herself. “Of course, to us the game doesn't seem so difficult. I also believe anyone could still learn it. That said, would you mind a kharaqiq board of your own to bring back with you? I can get you some instructions written so you can read how to play back with your tribe.”

Nomin hummed in thought, eyes flicking in both Bayarmaa and then Esenaij’s directions before her attention went back toward Sanchir. It was as if she were asking permission to accept such a gift.

“It would do us well to have something that could help teach Nomin some more logical thinking and planning,” Esenaij spoke up, taking a hearty bite of the gambir he had topped with stewed popotoes. Bayarmaa seemed to share this sentiment as she nodded in agreement.

“We would be awful teachers when it comes to your game, but if you're providing instructors, we'll be glad to go over them and learn together!” Bayarmaa seemed more elated by the idea of getting to learn kharaqiq for herself. Her tail swayed to and fro as she rocked from side to side.

Nomin glanced between Esenaij and Bayarmaa, a smile spreading over her face as her eyes sparkled with the thought of being able to play more games with them outside of uichuur or khorol. She then looked up at Sanchir, who seemed to have grown a sheepish expression at both Bayarmaa and Esenaij's responses. When Sanchir finally looked back toward Nomin, she smiled with a soft sigh.

“Well then…I invite you to enjoy the festivities for the rest of your duration,” Sanchir started in response. “I'll spend the eve getting you your own kharaqiq set and instructions to go with it.”

With a polite bow, Sanchir left for presumably her family’s ger, Arasen giving a quick bow and a small word of ‘goodbye’ before swiftly following along after her. When they were out of hearing distance, Bayarmaa then giggled and looked at Nomin.

“You've been making so many friends since we've been on our journey!” Bayarmaa pointed out. “What's this young boy like? I didn't get to meet him too well like getting to talk with Arik or Holuikhan.”

Nomin briefly looked in the direction that Sanchir and Arasen disappeared off in, and then looked back at Bayarmaa. Her expression faltered and went back to a more neutral, straight-faced look as she shrugged.

“I don't really know if I'd call Arasen a friend like I would the other two…” Nomin replied truthfully. This caused Bayarmaa’s own expression to fall slightly.

“Well…I suppose we can't be friends with everyone. He didn't say anything mean to you, did he?” Bayarmaa inquired.

Nomin shook her head. Then she shrugged as she considered their interactions in the brief time they spent with one another.

“... I didn't like the way he spoke to me.” Nomin stated her overall thought plainly and flatly. She then looked back at Bayarmaa and walked over to sit next on a bench close to her. “…I guess… Don't you ever notice when people talk to you like they don't actually like you?”

Bayarmaa sat down next to Nomin.

“I notice…” Bayarmaa’s expression turned a bit sad. Though, she sighed and brought a pleasant look back to her face. “But…a lot of the time, I remembered the friends that do like me, and I found comfort in that. Because not everyone is going to like you. I don't think we'd have as many fights on the Steppe, or rivalries if we all got along…”

Bayarmaa reached over and pet Nomin’s head affectionately.

“But…it's okay to feel hurt by this fact, too…” Bayarmaa went on to say. “Just do your best to pick yourself back up and move forward. I'll help you where I can if you want me to.”

A smile slowly appeared on Nomin’s lips and she leaned against Bayarmaa’s arm.

“... Thanks, Bayarmaa,” Nomin replied. “That makes me feel better already.”

[disciple-of-frost]

.:Lore Time:.

I mentioned in Ishi's verse that at The Final Steps of Faith she used the power of Hraesvelgr's eye to summon Shiva within herself. And I like to imagine that the Shiva summoned by Ysayle and the Shiva summoner by Ishita are the same, but also different. Physically she has Ishi's Au ra features (horns, scales, tail) but they look like they are made of ice so they have that ice fog that rolls off of them. Now, when it comes to personality I'm still working on some things. Because Ysayle and Shiva seemed to share one mind (i.e. "I thought myself stronger." In the Ravana fight. Which I will forever be annoyed that they seemed to nerf Shiva there...) I imagine that Ishi's Shiva retains some of those memories of being a part of Ysayle, but she isn't really her. Ishi's Shiva is a being born of grief, but also of stalwart determination.

Ishi also hasn't really called upon Shiva's power again, for a lot of reasons. One being that it would fuck up any area around her and she doesn't want to negativity impact the environment/planet. Two, she was ordered by a lot of the governing bodies of Eorzea to never, under any circumstances, use Primal Summoning as a means to an end. (This political stuff I'm still working on. T.T) Three, it really isn't a power that she has wanted to use again. She doesn't want to be revered as a "Holy figure" among the splintered remnants of the former heretics. She doesn't want her Primal abilities to be what has garnered her her reputation, she wants to be seem as a powerful Mage by her own abilities.

I actually use all of the Shiva weapon glams on every job that has them because I headcanon that Ishi doesn't usually carry physical weapons. A side effect of Shiva's influence is that Ishi can manifest ice into the weaponry she needs to whichever job stone she is currently using. Of course I have other glams and stuff, but for the most part I always use the Shiva's Diamond weapons.

[militibus-ex-umbra]

Backstory for Angelo

((A drabble of backstory I wrote for the Xaela WoL I have,))

His birth name was not Angelo, that would merely be a name he adopted after abandoning his past life. No before that he was born to the Tumet Tribe of Xaela Au'Ra in the Steppe of the East. Due to the customs of his tribe he was treated very distantly and was unnamed since birth. It was not till his tenth summer that he learned of the ancient custom of his tribe. This custom was the way their tribe was able to strengthen their children to turn them into warriors to defend the tribe. Angelo as a child was taken to a tree in the wild and was bound to it by his own parents. Once he was bound tightly to the tree unable to escape his family left him behind. The entirety of his tribe moved to their next location leaving him behind. The intended tradition said that if the child was worthy of living they'd escape from their bonds and reunite with the tribe. Angelo was able to accomplish this trial set before him... however the experience of both his escape and traveling through the wilds of the step left him forever changed. What was once the happy child was now an instinctual cold warrior of the Steppe.

It should have been exactly what the tribe needed, and he did bring them glory as a warrior in his youth. Over the next 5 years he managed to bring many enemies of the tribe to their knees. As well as keeping them safe from any wild beasts that would threaten their livelihood. However there was this beast inside of Angelo that had been awakened after the violence he had experienced. His warriors blood would send him into a frenzy in battle, tearing desperately into his enemies and utterly butchering them with his long sword. Whether it was beast or man all died to him even in his youth. His tribe whispered amongst themselves, dubbing him the Devil of Tumet. A name that was feared amongst all the Xaela tribes as a brutal weapon wielded by the Tumet.

It wasn't till another 5 years passed that everything came over. His father ended up confronting him over his methods. Xaela were not an honor bound race of Au'Ra, but Angelo's savagery had become far too much for the tribe to control. His father felt the need to assert his authority by force to make his child heel. However when his father tried to threaten his son, Angelo was reminded of all the grief and pain his parents had caused him. How they caused this spark of fire inside of him to turn into a raging inferno. The young Xaela saw nothing but red in his vision and he let out all of his emotions that were buried in his gut. When he came too, his father lay dead at his feet.

His tribe did not outright banish him, but after seeing the monster that he had become. Angelo knew that the rest of his tribe would not be safe until he had managed to cool himself. Or find a strong enough foe to put him down.

Thus Angelo discarded his old life and name. To forever walk the path of one reborn in the light of the moon. If his soul was one of a beasts he would wander far from his homeland to the desert city of Ul’dah. He would commit himself to the gladiator pits as a self inflicted punishment. To fight until he could be snuffed out by a more powerful beast. However when he took the caravan to Ul’dah, he dreamed of a bizarre sight... the Mother Crystal beckoned to him. He would not find redemption in a bloody spectator sport. No he would find redemption in serving the side of light. To kill all who would threaten to bring the world into darkness. If they wished to feed on the suffering of the people he would in turn feed the beasts of darkness his sword. For he deep down was The Devil of Tumet. And it was in his nature to bloody any battlefield. At least this time he would draw blood for the sake of the realm.

[ffxiv-swarm]

prompt 2: bolt

Three swift things are there, swiftest in the world: The wind in the tall grass The stallion in his prime The lightning in the heavens above

Gantsetseg doesn’t consider herself a poet, certainly not skilled enough to compose her own lists of Three Things. But when she’s in battle, leaping between bullets and spellstrikes, spinning out of the way of a falling blade, dancing across the rubble like a mountain cat does a rockfall, she sometimes spares half a thought to wonder if there ought to be a fourth.

The steel and aether, here on Hydaelyn.

Sometimes in her quieter moments, she thinks she actually might be a bit of an idiot. All this time, she’d thought her ability to be where the next blow wasn’t was simple luck, simple skill—after all, she hadn’t always been lucky, and she has the scars to prove it. But now that she knows it’s the Echo—comparing it to Rita, to Eirk’a, to Variken, to Vivian—it’s so obviously magical that she could smack herself with her own tail. She wonders when it awakened. Bozja? Ghimlyt? It could have been any of a thousand battles, and she wouldn’t have known; Rita’s Echo, which nearly incapacitated her for years, is an outlier.

“Incoming!”

Another round of Tempered soldiers harrying their supply caravans. She takes a deep breath, searching for the eye of the storm inside her, that little oasis of calm where she keeps her strategy. For this will be strategic, not a slaughter; these men and women of Garlemald are Tempered all, and now that there’s a cure for that there’s no need to kill them. Even if they hate her anyway, even if it will be harder to leave them alive, even if they call her beast and savage. She’s better than that. She has her orders. She has Alan, who would probably be disappointed in her.

Swifter than wind, than lightning, than the finest stallion on the Steppes, she springs into action again.

[cryptidblue1]

Silent Watching Ch. 1: Disguises and how to counter them.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Characters: Alunne Qestir (WoL OC), mentions of Scions, mentions of various NPCs

Timeline: After 2.0 and Crystal Tower, before Patch 2.5 MSQ

Series Warnings: Canon typical violence, mentions of canon xenophobia, mentions of canon racism

Those who relied on words and tone of voice to convey themselves so much, well, they tend to not truly understand just how much they give away with their body and small tics they had no conscious thought over.

It was why they had almost ignored the Garlean acting as if he was a stranger when he pointed her towards the expedition to the tower that gleamed in the lands of Mor Dhona. They had gone, more due to curiosity and the fact such a thing would keep her away from cities and their crowded and noisy life. As well as out of mind of even most of the Scions who may attempt to pile more upon her as they played with politics and words on their board game that used lives.

Why she was more upset over the complications brought about by the one who spoke in prophecies and riddles, then in shock when he had used himself to gain knowledge of the Warrior of Darkness. The dagger wielder had almost perfected the art of disguising, but the one that had possessed him did not have the same instinct to change posture and stance with the same ease, but back then she had not known him enough to fully see such for what it was. Yet, she had learned and made it a goal to know all those that could be taken in such a way. Memorizing postures and habits that another would not fully gain ease of with a possession.

It had taken hours of watching and unnerving those they watched, an effort she didn’t appreciate being belittled by the spy in his guilt over such happening to him before. Seeming to brush off what she was doing, and how much effort was going into such to make sure it did not happen again. The headbutt may have been too much, but the little sleep and stress from memorizing each distinct walk and movement pattern of the Scions had slowly taken a toll and it was a reasonable response if they had been home among her own people.

They learned far more about those that she was now surrounded by then she had initially wished to learn. Still leery of their mindset regarding how they may calculate their worth if whatever had given her this ‘Echo’ decided to stop making it useful to them. Yet the more she had watched, the more she had become...possessive of them in a way only her people and the Dawn Father created siblings could understand. They had become hers to watch over and protect in the same way Reunion was the Qestir’s to protect and manage. It was an attachment, that could prove foolish in time if they measured her worth only by the power that had first gained their attention. Yet, it was a hollow comfort here in this realm so far from her own. Made it easier to connect to them as she learned their ‘dialect’ in regards to body language.

It had to be worth it. To know them so well, to become attached meant that none of those in those masks would creep back in using one that was theirs to protect.