Completed Remembering the Details

[Kiva]

Flashback
20th of Summer, 500 A.V

“Now, child, repeat what I just said.”

Kiva struggled, biting the corner of her lip, casting her eyes to the ground. A moment passed and she looked up at the ceiling, searching for the answer. Her mentor sat cross-legged behind her, patient as always. “Malediction..,” The young girl searched for the approval of the man before continuing, “is when we take the bones of the dead, and make charms.” Kiva smiled. Yeah, that was it.

“You’re paraphrasing,” he pointed out, tugging at the strand of hair he was braiding, “Do not overlook details, Kiva. If you wish to survive long after I am gone, you must not dismiss things because you deem them unimportant.”

Kiva was quick to protest, “I don’t think that! I want to learn! I promise!”

“Ease yourself, child. Try again.”

Kiva took a deep breath, relaxing as her magician’s hands ran through her hair, “Malediction,” she said with more confidence, “Is when we take the bones—“

“The remains,” Dro corrected, determined for his pupil remember the proper information.

“ --The remains of the living or dead, and we make charms.”

“Charms or what?” His voice lifted, and he leaned to the side to look at the tawny face of the youth, “Tali-“

“Talismans!”

“And?”

Kiva sighed, “Cursed objects. And we make circles and we put our life blood in them.”

The older male cleared his throat, shifting his weight in a more comfortable position and contemplated her answer. He did not want her to take the magic lightly. It was a revered art form in Taloba, and could reap benefits or terrible curses depending on how it was performed. He nodded slowly finally, clearing up the details one last time, “As Maledictors,” he said, smiling at how pleased Kiva had become when she heard herself called such, “We create items from a creature’s remains. The results depend on the circles we create, our intentions, the material we choose… But Malediction is not predictable. Do not ever assume you can fully control what will happen. Now, today we will practice.”

Dro tied a hemp string around the end of the newly made braid to hold it in place, rising and moving away from Kiva. His eyes scanned the ground, and he plucked a gnarled stick from the floor and sat cross-legged in front of his student. The sun bounced off her skin, her brown eyes looking up at him hopefully. He handed her the piece of thin wood, “Practice your circles.” As an example, he effortlessly etched a circle against the dirt, its fluid lines impressing Kiva.

It’s beautiful, she noted, taking in the curve and evenness of the simple shape.

Attentively, she helped the small stick awkwardly, shifting it between her fingers until she found a position that was comfortable to hold. She leaned forward and held her breath as she lowered the point to the packed dirt, scratching her own replica. The dirt shifted under the movement and she stopped halfway, frowning. A few other Myrians passed on their way into the clan’s long house and a flush of embarrassment heated her cheeks. Kiva saw their eyes glance at Dro and then at her incomplete work. A few men carrying a bundle of firewood stopped and chatted with him. They bent down, and smiled, “You’re a natural,” they praised. “You parents should be proud.” Parent, Kiva mentally corrected, smiling in politeness.

Beside her, Dro tensed and he crossed his arms in reply, nodding. He was proud of Kiva, at least. The man was known as a fine craftsman, malediction being his specialty. In comparison, she was pitiful.

Kiva said nothing, but tried not to grimace when she looked back to her progress. Her circle wasn’t even complete, and the compliment sounded like the men were just paying their respects. She began to ignore them, and was happy when they walked away. She finished drawing the circle and looked up.

Dro motioned for her to do it again.

And again.

Kiva’s lines were shaky, but she did as she was told. Her arm arched and swept across the dirt, her confidence building with every circle. She drew a cluster in front of her, and when she ran out of space, she turned and continued her task. The whole time Dro watched, sitting cross legged in silence as she worked. On her own accord, she began varying the sizes of the circles, pleased to see that even though they were still lopsided, they were flowing easier. She began to pick up her speed, but was abruptly stopped.

“Look,” Dro instructed quickly, “You are getting sloppy. This will not do.” He pointed to her most recent shape, the loop was incomplete, an unfinished design. “The effects of malediction will hold only as long as the circles are intact. This one is incomplete. It would have no power. Remember the details.”

Kiva nodded. He was right. “I will do better.”

An unfamiliar voice broke the conversation, “I hope so.”

Kiva turned, spotting the tanned skin of her mother glistening with sweat and patterned with tattoos. From her ears hung heavy bone earrings, a gift from her father she said, and her chest was bare. The only top covering she had were a plethora of pale beaded necklaces that dangled precariously towards the ground. They swayed when she walked, and glimpses of her nipples peaked through the openings. From her wide hips hung a bloodied kris and a bow was slung across her back. She eyed Kiva’s drawings, shaking her head. “You should have come training with me this morning, but now the sun has peaked. It will be too hot soon.” And then to Dro, her voice holding an almost bored tone, “This will not interfere with her physical training, do you understand?”

“Of course.”

“Yes, Ma.” Kiva agreed quickly.

“Good. Improve quickly.” She patted Kiva on the head and went to move past them to the long house, barely giving so much as a glance to the male. She paused before disappearing inside, “Kiva,” she waited until she had the young girl’s attention, “If I find that this distracts you from your chores, you will be punished.”

“Yes, Ma.”

Even after the woman left, there was a tenseness in the air, Kiva unsure as to whether her mother approved of what she was doing or thought her time would be better spent learning to defend herself. Kiva found both were important to her, but she wasn’t sure which one she enjoyed more. A slight fear of having to choose between them made her uncomfortable. Her mother held more power, but if she was to be honest, she knew Dro better. It was complicated.

[Kiva]

Just as she was turning to continue her work, she noticed Dro’s head still turned, eyes lingering on the door of the long house. He sighed softly, barely audible, and it was then Kiva noticed the utter dismissal of her mentor. The action was relatively routine, but apparently it wasn’t something as easily dismissed by the male. His eyes looked distant, staring not at the entrance, but a memory deep into his mind. Kiva continued to watch. Without turning his head, his voice was level when he spoke, “The dead wait for no one. Continue.”

The order made Kiva’s cheeks redden from the embarrassment of being caught, and she mumbled an apology, restarting her etchings. Her small hand planted itself against the ground, and she slide it across the dirt, smearing and then erasing her work. She re-positioned the stick in her hand, taking in a deep breath. She cleared her mind, focusing her mind to conjure a circle in her mind – the shape she wanted. When she had a solid image, she made ghost markings, not exactly bringing the stick to the ground, but moving it in the air as if she were drawing. When she was confident, she quicken her movements and made contact, a circle forming, but she failed to stop quick enough and the circle was complete but with a tail. She used her thumb to rub it out of existence.

At least the lines are pretty.

She slowed her next movements, pretending that she was in fact drawing malediction circles on an item of power, not simply in the dirt. She ended up with eight new circles before Dro stopped her.

“Leave this. Go fetch paper and charcoal.”

Kiva did as she was told, dropping the stick and running inside, looking for the paper Dro instructed her would be inside. She moved along the edge of the structure, poking her head into the different rooms. Her mother sat in one, and looked up, arching a brow. In her lap was her kris, and it was being cleaned from the blood of battle. Kiva didn't ask who it belonged to, she guessed it was likely a Dhani or nasty jungle creature that had crossed her path.

"Why are your eyes darting around, Kiva? You look like dinner when it seeks to escape."

"I'm looking for paper, Ma. Dro said there would be some in here. Do you have any?"

"Dro..." Rakia stopped what she was doing and leaned back. She gave Kiva a level stare, tapping her fingernails against the metal. The sound was slightly unnerving, and she broke it by questioning her daughter, "Do you spend a lot of time with him, when I am gone?"

Kiva wasn't sure how to answer, hesitating, "Yeah, he teaches me stuff."

Rakia smirked, running a thumb across her chin. She was contemplating something. "Like magic. Do you like malediction?"

"Yeah, it looks really hard, but-"

"Come here." Rakia moved her kris to the side and held out her arms to Kiva. The young girl was unsure on what to do and found herself tentatively moving forward. Rakia reached out and cupped Kiva's face in her hands. The gesture was gentler than Kiva knew the woman was capable of. She wasn't used to such affection but knew pulling away would only lead to negative reactions. She stayed put while Rakia examined her face.

"You look like him, you know. Your father."

Kiva remained quiet.

"He used to light up when he was talking about his passions. I thought that a favorable trait. A passionate man is not a passive one. Passion holds hands with power. Or so I thought. I was young." She shrugged, dismissing it as if the old memory did nothing for her.

Her mother gave a small shake of the head, releasing the young girl and standing up. She moved to the side of the room to a trunk of worn wood and pulled a stack of paper sticking half haphazardly from leather binding. Next came a stick of charcoal and she held it out to Kiva.

It seemed like an odd thing for someone like her mother to have, but she was too distracted by the information just unveiled. She wanted to ask more, but knew it was in vain. It wasn't often Rakia talked about her father, but when she did, it was brief. Asking often annoyed the woman and for the longest time, Kiva simply assumed he was deceased. And then there were others where it seemed like she had just guessed wrong. After all, her mother had never said he was dead...

[Kiva]

Kiva ran from the long house to find her mentor sitting cross legged in the shade, carving designs into a tiny rock. "I got it." Her tiny bare feet pattered quickly across the packed dirt, leaving dust in her wake. The sun was hot and she wiped her brow with the back of her hand, holding up the items. "Dro, look."

"Yes," he stated, not lifting his eyes. He was intently watching his own hand movements, the small engravings inching closer to completion. As she moved closer, Kiva noticed that he wasn't in fact holding a rock, but... blackened teeth. The others had escaped her observation and were tucked into his palm, a single one plucked between his thumb and forefinger.

His hands moved meticulously, and she moved closer without invitation. He had a needle that caught the light, silencing any words Kiva wished to say. She sat on the ground, tucking her legs beneath her. He was so... intense.

Dro's long hair was pulled back into an elaborate braid, pieces of bone and beads woven into his black locks. Sweat dappled his face, and his lean figure was hunched over in concentration. He didn't say anything else to her. She waited, until finally she looked at the paper and charcoal in her hands. She laid it out in front of her, retrieving a handful of stones and placing them on the corners so the wind wouldn't blow them away.

She held the charcoal stick in her hands, the dust already staining her fingers as she pressed it to the paper. The texture was much different than the dirt had been, and the uneven surface made her stumble. Her lines returned to being wobbly, but she played with their thickness. She drew more circles, humming to herself. The world slowly started to fade away as she scribbled, pretending to be as dedicated as Dro. She stopped humming and focused.

While the dark lines filled the page, circles clearly in place, and then overlapping as she became more adventurous. Her mother's words filled her mind.

You look like him, you know. Your father. Her lines hiccuped. She tried to clear her mind again, but found it futile. As secretly as possible, she peeked to watch Dro from the corner of her eye. He continued to work, and blew away residue from his art. He didn't give her a second glance.

Kiva examined him more closely, the way he sat, to his dress. He was leaning forward, and his shoulders were strong. He was lithe, like a cat. Kiva liked that. Was she like a cat? No... No, her mother always liked to point out her stumbling feet. Rakia liked to say that Kiva would be like a newborn okapi when she reached puberty, but maybe they were similar in other ways?

His hair was dark, but so was her mother's. But Dro's skin was a similar shade of brown, and his eyes were like hers, weren't they? Did they talk alike? "Are you my father?"

The question flew from her mouth and hung heavy in the air. Dro stopped working and finally looked up, an expression Kiva didn't recognize before. He searched for the words, shaking his head slowly and scratching the bridge of his nose with his thumb, "No. I'm not."

[Kiva]

Kiva slumped at the response. It was something she had been expecting, but out of anyone in Falyndar, she had hoped it was him the most. She pushed away the circles she had been drawing and tried to force a shrug. On their own accord, she began to look at the ground. Almost instantly Dro was crouched in front of her, hand on her shoulder, "Look at me, Kiva."

Reluctantly, she did. Warm brown eyes stared into her own, "You deserve a better father than one I could ever be. Of that, I am sure. Come now, you still have much to learn." He shifted his weight, so that his legs were stretched out in front of him, his bum in the dirt. Motioning to the young girl, she moved and sat between them so that she was nearly in his lap. She turned to sit facing the same way as the man and Dro wrapped his arms around her, broad shoulders leaned slightly forward. His chin rested above her shoulders and he lifted her hands in front of her so she could see what he was doing.

"Look, closely," Dro opened the palm of his hand briefly to flash the sharp teeth he had been working on. They were large -- slightly larger than the average human's --and in his other hand he lifted a sharp needle. "I am carving, but these are so small; most would have painted their circles. I like permanence."

Kiva said nothing, and Dro continued his work. Painstakingly, he scratched at the surface and time began to become of little importance. The young girl wouldn't have been able to tell you how long they sat there, nor who passed in the meantime. Both were analyzing each mark, and their breathing began to sync. Rarely, her mentor would speak, mostly to point out common mistakes, or an area where he could have improved. "There, pay attention to the curvature. See how it bends? If an item is a result of malediction, it will only hold power as long as its circles are in tact. I carve mine so that they stay. Drawing or painting is common too, but be careful of the surface you choose and the object's purpose."

When all the teeth had circles on them, Dro held the needle between his lips and leaned back to stretch. Kiva, in comparison, felt a veil had been lifted and she could see the world once again, "Are they done? What do they do? Dro! What do they do?" She pulled herself forward and turned around to face the man.

"What do they do? Child, they are not close to completion. You know that." Dro gave her a funny look, and then wiped his brow. He plucked the needle from between his lips and held one up to the sun, "What gift do you think yukmen teeth would part with?"

Kiva wasn't sure. "What's a yu-yukmen?"

Dro stopped, and quirked an eyebrow. "Yukmen? Oh, yukmen are nasty creatures. They're mimics. They look like you or me, but they're dirty, and have jagged rocks sticking out from their skin. And they come from the ground."

The little girl scowled, "Yuck!"

Her mentor laughed, "Exactly! That's actually the sound they make. And they're twice as strong as the average Myrian. You gotta kill 'em quick or they'll learn too much from you. Pulling their rocks out hurts them a lot. They hate that, but you need to always remember - burn the bodies."

"Why?" Kiva was enjoying this side lesson. She always liked to learn about what to expect in the jungle, even if it was terrifying.

"They'll multiply. If you leave a Yukmen body, it makes more. Then you have an army of creatures who can overpower you and want nothing more than to rip you apart. They're not very smart creatures, either, but they learn at an incredible rate."

A moment of silence passed between the two, and then Dro suddenly sprang towards Kiva, making terrible clicks and 'yuk' sounds, contorting his face. The young girl shrieked and ran away, laughing as she went. Dro pretended to snarl, and then imitated Kiva, shrieking and running. Dro caught up to her and swooped her up into his arms, tossing her over his shoulder. Soon both were laughing till they couldn't breath, and neither of them were aware of the female watching from the door of the longhouse.

[Kiva]

"I was under the impression that this was a lesson, or should I have trusted my first instinct of believing this was a waste of time?" It was her mother.

Kiva froze, and Rakia stared her down. Kiva only held the gaze for a moment before looking away, and Dro slowed to a stop. The male spoke up, "She's fine, Rakia." It was one of the few times Kiva could remember her mentor ever talking back to her mother, if not the very first. The air grew instantly tense -- dangerous. He continued, "Let me teach my way, and when you take the girl to the yards to fight, you can teach yours." There was a sharp edge of defiance and anger in his tone.

Rakia sprang on him in an instant. "She is my kin. Mine. That is a right I earned. I will raise my daughter the way I want." The two stared each other in the eyes, Dro showing no sign of backing down. The whole confrontation made Kiva nervous, shifting in her spot.

The mentor scoffed with a sharp laugh, "What work you must have done. I hear laying on one's back is --" He never finished his sentence. A hand shot out with such force, Kiva gasped, for a second believing the impact would knock Dro's head from his shoulders. His mouth smacked the side, blood gushing from a broken nose in an instant. He growled, clutching his face. Even without being able to understand him, it was pretty clear his words were curses. Rakia shot out and clutched his throat in her hand, face red. She did nothing but grab him, yanking him up to look her in the face.

"Kiva," Rakia addressed, still staring with hatred into Dro's eyes, "I am going to tell you the story of your father," Kiva frantically tried to push her mother away from her mentor, panicked by these words, but the woman didn't even acknowledge her efforts. She continued on,"Your father was handsome. Strong. I thought he was smart. Passionate... Well, when I was young, I was received well... but I wanted the man who wouldn't look at me. I wanted someone who I could win."

"And I got what I wanted. Or so I thought. Life can be cruel. It turned out he never looked at me. Never cared, because he denied you. He denied our child. My child." Rakia threw Dro onto the ground away from her, finally grabbing Kiva and pushing her roughly towards the longhouse, "Myri take me before I let him ever come back and hurt her as well. You do not need a father, Kiva. Go inside. Your lesson is done."

She didn't move. Rakia finally tore her eyes from the male to her own daughter, pushing her forward. Kiva stumbled, trying to look behind her to spot her mentor bleeding. He was still clutching his nose, red dripping from between his fingers. His eyes followed them both, filled with a type of pain. Kiva was confused. She didn't understand. Why was Rakia mad at Dro? He wasn't her father. She knew that... because out of everyone in Falyndar, he never took his eyes off her mother.

[Dravite]

Kiva

XP Award:

• Malediction: 2
• Observation: 5
• Socialisation: 4
• Drawing: 3
• Logic: 2
• Running: 1
• Wrestling: 1
  

Lore:

• Malediction: Charms and talismans made from bones
• Teaching: Details are vital
• Malediction: An unpredictable magic
• Drawing: Basic shapes
• Dro: A fine craftsman
• Teaching: Repetition makes masters
• Malediction: The circle must remain intact
• Kiva: The perfectionist
• Rakia: The Huntress
• Drawing: Using charcoal
• Father: A passionate man
• Yukmen: Mimics from the earth
• Yukmen: Fast learners
• Yukmen: Always burn the bodies
• Myri: Goddess of War
  

Notes: Hello, Kiva. What a beautifully edited and well told story. I enjoyed grading this for you and look forward to learning more about Kiva in future threads. I couldn't give you much Malediction because it turned into a drawing lesson after going over the basics. I love the part at the end, the logic Kiva creates for herself as a child. Well done! Let me know if you think I have missed anything here and be sure to edit your grading request!

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