Flashback An Old Vow and a New Face (Ayatah)

[Ayatah]

"Lowax is quite the cook, is she not?"

”She certainly is.” Ayatah could not deny any different. Her Great-Grandmother had long since lost her sense of smell and taste. Anything she made was either incredibly bland, or so peppery it would make your eyes stream. Her own mother did the majority of the family cooking now, with Ayatah helping out a little. She made a note to ask Lowax for some tips before she left yesterday.

When he turned and openly caught her admiring his tattoos and scars - especially the large one that spread across his left shoulder - Ayatah turned to the bonfire, almost embarrassed. Subtly had never been a thing she had mastered, and it certainly made for some awkward situations when she was caught admiring a member of the opposite sex. But Razkar seemed to have not noticed, and was instead narrating a story behind the large scar.

The short story certainly cause Ayatah’s attention, and she turned back around to listen. A tiger attack. Few survived one, and it sounded like Razkar had certainly been incredibly lucky.

Then his appearance changed.

It was as if he had suddenly remembered a reason to be angry with Ayatah, as if she had been caught badmouthing him around Taloba a few weeks ago, and he had only just remembered.

"You are different."

The words were harsh and they stung. Ayatah did not hide her pain in her expression - it came like as a knee-jerk reaction. She turned back to the bonfire, thinking about how to react to his blunt statement.

She had been caught out - if they were the right words - as Mixed Blood hundreds of times in her life. She had learnt one lesson from these experiences; how she reacted after being questioned tended to dictate how conversation. If she were too aggressive, or too defensive, it would come across as rudely hostile. If she came across too proud, she would instantly be seen as more Eypharian than Myrian. If she denied her Mixed Blood, she would be calling the other person a liar, and denying how the Goddess-Queen desired her to be.

She had to tread carefully.

So, Ayatah swallowed her hurt and her pride, and turned back to Razkar with a smirk on her lips and a playful flash in her eyes. ”I’m not a full-blooded Myrian.” She admitted bluntly, ”I give a prize to those who can guess my other heritage in one guess.” The rest up to him; whether he would play her game, and receive her elusive prize, or just shrug and not be bothered, was up to Razkar. Ayatah had played her cards as best she knew how.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

Ayatah's head jerked to the side as if he'd slapped her and Razkar immediately felt remorse for his words. Oh, subtly done, Razkar, bravo, that same bitter little voice in his head said as he looked at her suddenly and carefully blank expression, a visitor among your clan and you damn near interrogate her over dinner.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could Ayatah turned back on him. But there was not anger or indignation in her eyes; just a cocky playfulness and a slight smirk. Razkar found himself liking her all over again.

This one has some steel, for sure... but the brains to wield it, too.

”I’m not a full-blooded Myrian. I give a prize to those who can guess my other heritage in one guess.”

Razkar's mouth closed slowly and those dark eyes twinkled like stones under water. He turned his body all the way to her and rested his chin on his fist, elbow on his knees, frowning as he studied her. The softer, almost-oval features. The paler skin. The... scent.

Now he wished he'd payed more attention when they studied other races in school.

"Hmm... not Human. You don't smell right. So, not Drykas, or Benshira or... ah... the other two. The ones by the sea and in the desert." He didn't even mention Dhani or Zith. If any Myrian bred with one of those damned races, they would have been killed in short order and most likely their children, too. "I don't think..." he squinted even harder, then looked at her eyes "... no, you have the wrong eyes for Vantha. They would have changed color by now. Not the spider people..."

He wracked his brains, mentally going through a list that was incomplete and he knew it. One guess? She wasn't making it easy. The smell... what was that? Gods, he should know...

Finally his eyes widened and his chest swelled with satisfaction. A smile nearly split his face in two and he nodded sharply.

"Konti!"

[Ayatah]

Ayatah loved games, especially ones where she held the key to win. She’d played this game before, usually to win a bet or haggle a decent amount of a purchase in the trading square. When he turned to fully face her, she copied his movement, sitting with her arms in front of her neatly to give him the best view of her features in question.

She watched with light entertainment as he puzzled over her bloodline, but her face remained as still as possible, giving very little trace of a response. Only her eyes, which looked upon his own intently, hinted at her humour. They danced with amusement, engulfing the flames of the bonfire.

”You don't smell right.”

At that, she feigned being insulted, wincing and then pouting, but still her eyes twinkled. ”I smell perfectly fine, thank you very much.” She said indignantly, then fell silent again as he continued to contemplate her other half.

A tiny smile pulled at her full lips when his chest rose with pride before he announced the final conclusion. After he had delightedly given his answer of "Konti!", Ayatah nearly hadn’t the heart to tell him wrong.

Nearly.

”The Islanders?” She baffled, ”they’re all blonde, aren’t they? And all -- female.” Although, Ayatah recalled that she had not shared with him that it was her father that was the non-Myrian, so the fact he had decided on an all-female race was not his fault. Still, she couldn’t help but give out a small chuckle at how wrong his answer was, and how proud of it he had been.

”I am part Eypharian, those multi-armed freaks.” She said eventually, solving the mystery, ”My father was an idiotic scholar, to hear my mother speak of him, who she happened to meet outside of the Jungle. I’ve never met him, and don’t want to.”

Although that was a small lie: a part of Ayatah diad want to meet her father, or at least know whether he was still alive for her to find. But the likelihood was that he had no clue that he had a daughter. And if he did know about her, it simply meant that he had absolutely no interest in the daughter he conceived with a wild woman of Taloba.

But she wanted to know more about her father’s race, she had recently come to terms with this herself. It had been difficult for her to admit (it felt like she was abandoning the Myrian’s and Myri), but her family was supportive in her interest in the multi-armed Eypharians, and her mother told her all that she knew of her father. He would be about forty-seven now, was incredibly interested in the different races that existed in the land, and could speak a little of nearly all languages. He had four arms - an idea that fascinated and repulsed Ayatah - and was hoping to eventually move to Zeltiva to become a professor of the university.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”The Islanders? They’re all blonde, aren’t they? And all -- female.”

Razkar tried hard to not look crushed. He almost succeeded. Even his father, across the bonfire, visibly winced as he saw his son's face shift from triumphant to... not-so-triumphant.

"Damn, boy," he muttered under his breath, "The hells did you say...?"

”I am part Eypharian, those multi-armed freaks. My father was an idiotic scholar, to hear my mother speak of him, who she happened to meet outside of the Jungle. I’ve never met him, and don’t want to.”

Fortunately the little bard on the end of Ayatah's short flood of words dragged him out from his brief depression. Rakar was by no means an intricate or impressive judge of character or words, but the way the mixed blood Myrian's eyed darted away for a moment told him a lot. And there was the simple mystery that in such a family-oriented race, a daughter would not want to know her father?

Unlikely.

"It might be a good thing," he said, doing his best to sound nonchalant and keep the conversation light, picking choice strips of meat off his shank as he spoke, "He probably won't be everything you think he is, for good or ill." Then he shrugged and snorted. "Or he might be worse. Or better."

Then he looked up at her, fire refleted in his eyes, smile at once bright and brittle and sad and handsome. Even Razkar did not know what he intended it to be. It simply was.

"But the truth is always better than wondering. Even a bitter one..."

Yeah, and that kind of kills future conversation, his little voice said iritably as they settled into a long silence. Finally he opened his mouth, asked her about her clan-

-and she spoke at the same time.

Zek smiled ruefully as the two young people stumbled over their apologies and his son, of course, asked her to speak first. He shook his head. Every father worthy of the title wished their child not to be like them, but better than them. To have more, and be more.

Sad, then, that as far as talking to the females went, he was turning out to be a carbon copy of Zek...

[Ayatah]

The way his expression changed from swelling with pride to simply crestfallen made a different smile come to Ayatah’s lips. It was a small, almost reassuring smile. I have been called many things worse than half-Konti she thought, a little sadly.

As she was growing up, Ayatah witnessed the cruelty of some of her peers; they mocked her Mixed Blood, calling her a fake Myrian. She remembered how two of her male classmates had stood behind each other, so one of them appeared to have four arms. They had followed Ayatah, claiming to be her long lost father. She ended the joke by kicking the boy in the front where he would one day make children (although, the chances of him fathering children dropped drastically at that point).

"It might be a good thing," The way he was speaking was casual, but his words made Ayatah’s jaw clench as she listened. She had spent several years thinking about her father on-and-off, sometimes with hatred, and sometimes with a heartbreaking loss. She wanted a father figure - she had always wanted one. But did she want her father? Would he want to meet his daughter? She knew so little about the culture of the multi-armed race that she did not have the confidence to travel to the dry lands where they lived and ask for her father. What would she say, anyway? She did not know anything personal about her father, even his name.
"He probably won't be everything you think he is, for good or ill. Or he might be worse. Or better."

She gave a small nod, acknowledging that she actually agree with his words. But it was hard to put into words what she was thinking, and what she wanted. His smile caught her off guard, and she found herself returning it with a soft one of her own.

"But the truth is always better than wondering. Even a bitter one..."

A silence fell over them after that. It was not an awkward silence, in Ayatah’s eyes anyway. She was considering his words, mulling them over as she looked into the fire. The way the flames dances made her think of her the arms of the Eypharians. What would one do with so many arms, anyway? She thought. It was a silly thing that she had considered from a young age. It would be handy in some ways, but what one would you use to shake hands with a person with? How the mind focused on strange things.

”You--“

Ayatah cut her words short. Razkar had spoken at the same time, and they had both stopped awkwardly, mumbling apologies. It was strange to Ayatah to see how awkward around females the Myrian male, who seemed so confident earlier, could be.

When he asked for her to speak before him, she smiled gratuitously and continued.

”You’re right.” She shrugged her shoulders and turned towards him once again, tucking one leg under her. ”Knowing is better than wondering. But--“ she paused, and licked her lips anxiously. She had only truly shared her feeling towards her father with the Goddess-Queen or her family. It was strange for her to share them with a young man she had only just met.

But sometimes it best to share your innermost thought with a stranger, because they don’t know you to judge you. It was a personal favourite saying of her Great-Grandmother’s.

”I’m scared.” It was a strange admittance for a Myrian, ”I don’t know anything about their culture, or history. Or him.” She began to count on her fingers the things she knew about her father, ”he’s my mother’s age - around forty-five. He has four arms.” She held two fingers in her other hand, ”and my Mother thinks that he was going North after here.” Three things. Ayatah did not know her father’s name, or what he looked like. The three things that she did not would never be enough to find her father amongst the Eypharians, who famously looked down upon the Myrians as a savage, beast-like race.

She shrugged her shoulders again and her dark eyes returned to Razkar’s face. Hoping that she had not overwhelmed him with her words, she pushed her dark hair behind her ears and gave another, somewhat false, smile, ”But… That’s not important. How are you finding your Army service?”

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”I’m scared. I don’t know anything about their culture, or history. Or him. He’s my mother’s age - around forty-five. He has four arms, and my Mother thinks that he was going North after here.”

Razkar nodded with more understanding than Ayatah would have thought capable of. Oh, he knew a lot about fear. It seized his heart and his mind every time he went out with the army, and had done countless times before he'd joined up. Not just fear on the battlefield, either, but the far more insidious and paralyzing fear of the unknown. Fear and uncertainty that would blind you and convince you that your own wild speculations or erroneous conclusions were better than the truth.

"Fear is not an unnatural or shame ful thing," he said quietly, picking his shank clean, "Unless we allow it to master us completely. Fear motivates us. It drives us. It heightens us. But it is like a Tskanna that needs taming: fearsome, powerful, but ultimately, just a dumb beast."

He smiled back at her and gave what he hoped was a reassuring nod.

"Fear is not real. You'll find that out."

”But… That’s not important. How are you finding your Army service?”

Razkar gave a weary sigh and decided the woman was right: this topic had reached the end of its run. Time to discuss something else. He scratched behind his head and though back on endless steamy days of training and sparring, followed by more tedium of patrols in the jungle. Finally he just gave a frustrated but resigned shrug.

"Boring, for the most part, but... necessary. My father once told me that warriors are often born, but every soldier is molded. I hope to be the former, but the latter is a first step, and the training at Taloba certainly aids that. Mostly its been training and sparring and lessons." He chuckled and shook his head, nodding at her with his eyes twinkling. "Herliz is still there, you know. Still a holy terror among the new recruits. Put some poor bastard from the Screeching Ravens in the healer's station a week ago..."

[Ayatah]

But it is like a Tskanna that needs taming: fearsome, powerful, but ultimately, just a dumb beast."

That made her laugh - properly laugh. The smile creased into her eyes and lit them up. She had been told to not fear fear itself, before. But never quite so… eloquently before. Or in such an entertaining manner. She covered her mouth as she laughed, aware that the others around them were not fully aware of what their topic had been about. She needed that laugh, and she truly appreciated it.

"Fear is not real. You'll find that out."

Her smile had died, but a grateful smiled remained on her mouth, ”Thank you,” She said. Her voice was softer, showing how grateful she had been for his words. ”You are, yet again, right. I need to learn that lesson somehow.”

"Boring, for the most part, but... necessary.”

Aah yes, Ayatah thought solemnly, I remember that feeling all too well. Overall, the experience of military service had been… pleasant? Was that the word? No, Razkar had it right - it was necessary. It had given Ayatah endless joy and pride in directly doing a service under her Goddess-Queen’s wishes and command. But the training had been a true challenge, not just of physical ability, but mental capabilities as well.

Ayatah considered his comment about warriors and soldiers, and how they were molded. It was true; but Ayatah struggled to see herself as the latter. She lacked the strength of her counterparts, but more than made up for this in speed. Her Eypharian-like want for perfection and desire had her train hard at the skills she was good at, and practically ignore those that she failed at.

"Herliz is still there, you know. Still a holy terror among the new recruits. Put some poor bastard from the Screeching Ravens in the healer's station a week ago..."

”No!” She cried out, her eyes wide with both surprise and humour. Then again, the Commander-in-training for the Myrian army was a ruthless piece of Skurak. He had spent most of Ayatah’s first year telling her that she was lucky to have not inherited her father’s multiple arms - otherwise she would kill herself four times as quick. ”He was so cruel! I remember my first day I was so terrified of him. I hid in the back of the group during our first lesson with him. It was like he could sniff your greatest fears to throw in your face each time you missed a target.”

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”He was so cruel! I remember my first day I was so terrified of him. I hid in the back of the group during our first lesson with him. It was like he could sniff your greatest fears to throw in your face each time you missed a target.”

Razkar chuckled with rueful memory. Herliz... what a monster. But an instructive monster. After a day of tutelage under that beast, you learned more through pain and bruises and welts and even broken bones than any mountain of books and scrolls. Razkar and the rest had hated Herliz with every fiber of their beings.

Now they showed nothing but respect.

"Yes, I remember. But it was all to a purpose." He shook his head again. Was he really so young, barely a year ago? So... green? He must have been. "It taught us well, didn't it?"

Razkar leaned over and helped himself to a wooden plate of rice and beans, something of a luxury item in the jungle. He got his guest a plate as well, of course, and savored the rich spices in the food before speaking again.

"But I have a month to myself," he said, breaking up some deer and mixing it with his vegetables, "So I decided to come home... keep a promise I made a year ago. What about you? The Scattered Bones... they're several leagues from her, I think. What bought you so far afield?"

Er...... sorry I didn't specify, but Herliz is a female!

[Ayatah]

OopsArgh sorry! I completely overlooked that - figured it was just random NPC not used before.

"It taught us well, didn't it?"


”That it did…” And it was true; through the hardship Herliz put them through, the in-training youngsters learnt fast and thorough. Nobody made the same mistake more than twice, and even that was deemed near suicide. The consequences of failing more than once were harsh.

Ayatah watched as the young male plated more food up, and thanked him as one was passed to her. She remembered her first break during her own military service. To say it had been a welcome break had been an understatement; she had relished every chime that passed whilst she was reunited with her family. Her younger brother and sister had grown hugely in the year she had not seen them often, and her Great-Grandmother had lost over half her teeth.

Not to mention, her muscles appreciated the rest. She remembered how they had ached after being abused and used so frequently and harshly.

She tasted the bean and vegetable mix, and was yet again amazed at how pleasant they were. I will get fat staying here, she thought as she eyed the plate of food in front of her, but I will love every moment of it.

"So I decided to come home... keep a promise I made a year ago. What about you? The Scattered Bones... they're several leagues from her, I think. What bought you so far afield?"

The part about a promise certainly stirred Ayatah’s interest, and she glanced up at him as he spoke of it. ”Nothing too interesting, unfortunately. I was paying homage to Caiyha in the typical fashion of my clan - putting the bones of an enemy in a place separate from their body.” She paused to nibble at a few vegetables, ”and to gather the plants that come from the shrunken Kandukta, of course. My life seems to revolve around harvesting and praying, nowadays.”

The last part of what she had said was more or herself than he; Ayatah had certainly reached a lull in her life, where she was not sure what her next plan of action was. In the meantime, I will harvest, harvest and pray. She thought.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”Nothing too interesting, unfortunately. I was paying homage to Caiyha in the typical fashion of my clan - putting the bones of an enemy in a place separate from their body.”

Razkar made a brief face as he digested this. He'd heard of the Scattered Bones, but in the same way he had heard of Sunberth, or Isurians. There were dozens of different clans scattered across Taloba. It was a popular Myrian pastime to try and catalog them all. Sadly, it was a pastime that Razkar never had much interest in. Still, at least it gave her a little insight into Ayatah and her clan.

"And to gather the plants that come from the shrunken Kandukta, of course. My life seems to revolve around harvesting and praying, nowadays.”

At that, Razkar was struck dumb. Harvesting and praying? They were things that had their place, true, but to build a life around them? To him the very notion was incomprehensible. But he was a young man at that point, remember. To young men, anything static and pious tastes of a wasted life.

But when Razkar looked at the woman, he did not see a waste. She clearly knew what she wanted from life and... well, good for her. Beyond war and service to his Goddess-Queen, Razkar certainly had nothing figured out. He chuckled and shrugged.

"If you gain satisfaction from them, then good luck to you." Then he stopped chewing, a new thought leaping into his brain. A much more relevant thought. "You were out by the basin, yes? Did you see any sign there of tigers? Droppings, tracks... anything?"

NPMy fault, no sweat!