Maiara [WIP]

[Maiara]

lalala Mai is a qtpai Basics Name: Maiara Race: Chaktawe Tribe: Tatsuwaat Gender: Female Age: Twenty three Date of birth: Second of Winter, 488AV Physical Description Maiara stands short at five foot one, her short stature long and limber. Her womanly curves are certainly not womanly, nor curvy, as she still has the physicality of one who has just begun to mature. Unfortunately, at twenty three years of age, it is unlikely that her body will mature any further. She weighs heavy at 145lbs, a weight that is a Chaktawe feature. Her eyes are jet black, the entirety of them, and yet they have a propensity to sparkle when the burning desert sun hits them. Her eyes are matched by her hair, also a dark colour, reminiscent of the crows she loves. Her copper skin fades against the background of the sand, and she is truly one of the desert wanderers. Her features are delicate, dainty and soft, and her eyes hold a certain countenance to them which make her seem a gentle soul, and kind. There is rarely a smile on her face, except for when she is truly joyous - and even then, the smile is only a subtle quirk of the lips. Only those who know her well are gifted rarely by the brilliance of her grin. She can often be seen with thick, red claylike paint splashed across her forehead, and on times of special celebration, her cheeks too. She wears the feathers of birds in her hair, stylistically braided as a sign of worship to Eywaat - though she never plucks them from the birds themselves. Only what is found and is suitable is worn. She loves to wear anything of the birds, and so the fabric around her chest and legs is woven from bird feathers, a dark crow tone. Her nightcloak, though, is made from the fur of a jackal. Character Concept Personality: Maiara is a quiet, spiritual girl. She is never quick to yell or raise her voice, and her voice is usually just above a murmur. She does not rush into anything, instead she methodically plans and thinks and ponders. She is very introspective, even around her twin Taivas, who is the complete opposite of her. She is kind, though, and not quick to judge, listening carefully before making a final decision. She does not raise her voice, and she is slow to laugh and smile, quiet and there is clearly something in her past that hurts her daily. She has bouts of severe depression, and in that she in unapproachable and will regard you with black, dirty stares. Despite these times, she is usually loving and kind, though she often disapproves of anything her brother does, despairing for his way of life. She aims to discipline him, improve him, but she knows that will never happen. Maiara's extreme quietness and Taivas' over enthusiasm put together make a complete whole. They are often seen at eachother's side, and when Maiara is with him, it is the only time there is the barest hint of a smile. When she is not around him, one will never see a smile grace her face. Ethics: Maiara is extremely ethical, driven by honour and what is right. She will never do anything that could hurt another, physically or emotionally. She is extremely caring of everyone in her tribe, a fact that shines through in her choice of profession. She is extremely devoted to Eywaat, but also honours each of the Gods, placing her entire faith and life in their hands. Anything Eywaat tells her to do, she shall, despite the differences in Eywaat's and her personalities. She is extremely honour driven and will do anything to honour her family, and aid others. Her ethics are high and extremely important to her. Likes: Birds, Taivas, her family, Eywaat, healing. Dislikes: Violence, pain, daggers, Taivas' angry ex girlfriends. Character History The tribal ways of the Tatsuwaat Chaktawe were ingrained into Maiara from the very first time she drew breath and began to live. The screams of her birth were not singular, as the tent she was born in was rent apart with the screams of two children, not just Maiara herself. Maiara was born mere chimes before her younger twin joined her on the world, a boy they named Taivas. They were born together, and would live together. Taivas and Maiara were inseparable even at birth. Taivas and Maiara were the first of two children to the recently joined parents. They had been blessed with twins just over a year into their marriage, and Tai and Mai were lovely children. They were exceptionally close to each other, growing up together and learning to live and talk and walk under the groves of the keerdash trees. Her life was fairly simple and regular amongst her nomadic people. As they traversed amongst the Burning Lands, Maiara learnt more about life and people. She was close to her father, and was rather in love with his mangy old crow. She would play with him and love him until on her tenth birthday, when Shenami the crow was four, he gifted him to her. Maiara kept him at his side ever since. Whilst Taivas seemed more interested in the manly arts of warfare and protecting the tribe, Maiara found herself drawn more and more to those who helped the tribe in the way of healing. She would find herself watching those healers who fixed up those with scrapes, who healed the sick, and eased the comfort of the dying. It seemed, to Maiara, to be a most noble cause, one that she felt drawn to more than the destructive arts. She diligently learnt the arts, learning how to perform stitches and how to apply herbs in a medicinal manner, learning all that she could as she trained. She was indiscriminate, too, in who she healed, wanting everyone to heal as much as they could. One day, when she was twenty one, the tribe passed through the abandoned village of Eloab. The Chaktawe were one of the very few brave enough to do so, and even then, they did not stay long. They only stopped for a day while they made use of the well, watering their grazing animals and filling up skins, getting ready to make their way through the desert once more. They left the next day with no drama, thinking nothing of the pitstop, ready to head back to their grove on the circuit once again. But the next few days, an elderly man got sick. And then a young child. And then a newborn baby. Slowly, the tribe descended into chaos and sickness. Fevers were rife, a hacking cough and the plague of sneezes followed the Tatsuwaat, and headaches and fatigue. Slowly, the tribe spiralled down to a halt of pain and illness, and the healers were working overtime - Maiara included. Herbs and fauna were used to the point where their resources were nearly depleted, and those still standing had to be sent to scavenge for whatever specimens they could find in the desert. Meanwhile, numbers dwindled, and feverishly the healers worked to the point when they themselves were sick, too. Maiara was one of the few who did not contract the illness, working hard to sustain the health of others. Most of the people who contracted it died almost immediately, who recuperated. It was based entirely on personal strength and immunity; the healers themselves could only assist. But there was one man who contracted it who did neither. His cough was hacking and his eyes burned, and the healers said there was no hope for him to live. Herbs were given to ease his pain but no curative measures were offered. He wasted away until he hung on the precipice between death and life. But he just hung there. He didn't die. For eight days, they waited for him to cross over, or to start improving, but he didn't do either. He just coughed and coughed, in roaring pain, trying to feel better but the virus had too strong of a grip on him. He hovered between life and death. The other healers left him, focusing on the ones they could save, and Maiara, for the most part, went with them. But this strong man, who should not have been so stricken, stayed in her mind. One night, after they had all gone to sleep or hurried to attend to those who needed to be healed, she came and found him in his red dyed tent. "Hello," she whispered, and her voice was husky. "Are you awake?" Her hand hovered over the dying man's burning forehead, listening anxiously for the continued puff of his breath. His eyes fluttered open, and met hers. He began to speak, but a series of unstoppable coughing wracked his body. "No, no, shhh. Do not speak if it hurts." The coughing fit slowed, and eventually his mouth opened, his voice raspy and quiet. "What is your name?" he murmured. "Maiara ... I helped you before, but you were delirious. I do not think you remember me." He looked up at her with a faint smile, murmuring her name. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she murmured quietly. His dark eyes looked up at her for a chime, as if gauging her response to what he was going to say. She waited silently. "Maiara ... everything hurts. Stop it hurting." Her heart sank, for she had tried to do that very thing and had failed. An hand pressed to his forehead, feeling the fever raging. "I can try some new herbs, or perhaps mix you a drink..." She trailed off as his hands shakily grabbed hers, stilling them from their worry. "No," he rasped. "Stop it hurting, forever. My daughters and my wife died with the illness. I have nothing left, and I am not getting better. I just want you to stop it hurting, Maiara." The implications of what he was asking sunk in, and her head began to shake before he had even finished talking. "No!" she gasped. "I am a healer! We don't ... no ... I cannot..." She sat there, shaking her head, looking down at the hands that were intertwined with her own. Such strong hands. He had been a hunter, she guessed. She couldn't do this, even though she kniw that this was what the man deserved. She felt the man squeeze her hands as they shook in her grasp, and she looked into his black eyes. She saw in there trust, acceptance, and forgiveness. As soon as she looked there, seeing all those beautiful emotions played out over a raging pain, she made her decision. "Alright," she whispered, her breath barely carrying sound. The man smiled with acceptance, and dropped her hands. His eyes were closed as he waited. Swallowing hard, she looked around the tent for anything she could use. The man had a small dagger, carved with the Brother Crow, clearly more sentimental than practical. She scrambled over to it, and snatched it up, as if the floor was burning and every movement needed to be done quickly. When she knelt down beside the man, his eyes were closed and his breathing was raspy with a peaceful smile on his face. Her hands smoothed over his skin, stroking along the column of his neck, feeling the pulsating rhythm of life under his skin. The dagger was sharp. She didn't close her eyes or look away; instead she focused almost too intently on the way she raised the dagger. With a hard, short, violent thrust, she slammed the tip of the dagger into the man's throat, slicing out behind the windpipe, pulling the dagger up through the front of his throat. He cried out in pain, it clearly hurting more than he had expected to. A gurgle, a trickle of blood from his mouth, and the man was dead. Maiara never even knew his name. The village began to recover not long after, the epidemic having released them from it's clutches, and everything went back to normal. Maiara carried on with Taivas and her family as if, truly, nothing had happened but what everyone knew. She never told him of the guilt that weighed on her, but nor did she tell him that she knew she had done the right thing for the man. She didn't tell him anything, and the twins were just as close as they always were. Maiara cannot shake the guilt. Gnosis 1 mark from Eywaat (Tatani) The Dance of Maiara and Eywaat The tribe had taken a while to recover from the debilitating illness that had wracked them after the visit to Eloab. It had taken all their strength and determination, and the skills of their best workers to bring them back from that hell. Maiara was certainly not one of the most skilled healers, not by a long shot. But she was diligent and learned fast, and was skilled through necessity. She had not gotten sick, so she had worked hard to ensure that they had all gotten better. Not many of her patients had died. And for that she was thankful every day. It was now nearly a season after, and the sands were beginning to churn up into the spring storms. She had just turned twenty two, along with Taivas, though the occassion was joyless, for her. She could not be glad of living life when she had ... but it would not do to dwell on that. Taivas was around the campfire too, and he could always tell when she sunk into depression. She just hadn't gotten the courage to tell him why just yet. She would - she could never keep anything from Taivas - but she was not ready yet. She had healed everyone else in the village, and now it was her turn to do the same. Tonight one of the Abayla would be telling them a story. It was the young girl's first time telling one of the sacred stories in front of everyone. She was nervous, Maiara could see it in her eyes as she sat around one of the fires. There was no central campfire in their tribe, but tonight they all clustered around this one, just to hear the young girl recounter the tale. They had heard it all before - of course they had - but with each retelling, though there was no deviance, there was a new magic and a new blessing in hearing the stories of their ancestors and their gods. The girl's mentors sat around her and muttered advice to the nervous girl, who stared into the flames in an attempt to gain courage. The other Chaktawe were talking amongst eachother, talking and laughing and living. Maiara sat alone, and as she sat, she wondered where Taivas was. Probably somewhere amonsgt the camp, trying yet again to gain a girl's attention for the night. She sighed and found herself shaking her head subconciously as she thought of her twin's antics. One day, he would do something and regret it as the girl's father ran screaming for her honour behind him. And Maiara would only watch with a smug quirk of the lips when it happened. As she sat staring at the young Abayla, she heard someone's light footsteps approach her from the darkness behind her, the darkness that led to the silent tents of the Tatsuwaat. She found herself looking up automatically. Many people had wanted to talk to her, thank her, after the sickness ordeal, and it was thanks that continued on. She looked up to see a Chaktawe man, perhaps in his fifties, with black eyes and hair smiling at her. His teeth were crooked and yellow, and his nose was bent to the side - as if it had been broken many a time. He grinned laviciously at Maiara, but she sent a genuine smile back. If a man as old as he had survived the sickness, he deserved all the smiles she could give, in celebration of the life he had continued to live. Men younger than he had been lost to the sickness. "Maiara, correct?" the old man spoke to her, and his voice was surprisingly clear. It did not crack with age as he spoke, and though the fire light lit up the ugly features of his skin, Maiara did not look away. Her smile remained steady and understanding as she looked into his eyes. There seemed to be a twinkle there, of mischieviousness, and Maiara thought that if he wished to, he could be a lot quicker than his gambling gait hinted at. "Yes, elder, I am Maiara," she said softly, her voice quiet but still carrying with the power of youth. He nodded at her words, as if considering the respect and even tone by which he answered her. She waited, wondering what this old man could want with her. After a pregnant pause, during which the old man clearly was considering things past Maiara's knowledge, he gestured to the spot beside her, a questioning tilt to his head. Maiara immediately moved, making space for the man, so that he may sit beside her. With a wicked grin, the man sat down next to her. He did not make use of the ample space Maiara had provided, instead, he moved up as close as he could, his thighs pressed against Maiara's, arms to arms. He smelt, as if he had not bathed in days, and he grinned in such a skin-prickling way at Maiara, but she did not bolt or flee or move. Simply, she sat, and looked back steadily into his eyes. There was no encouragement in her face, no measure of motivation for the man - instead she was stoic as she sat, allowing him to stay there but she did not do him the disrespect of flinching away. She remained still, and watched him with mature eyes, waiting to see what he wanted from her, whereupon she would refuse with esteem for her honour. But before he could speak, the young Abayla had begun to tell her tale. Her voice was shaky as she began to speak, and it was clear another from her bloodline sat behind her, watching her carefully, ready to assist if she should need it. Maiara turned, ready to hear stories of her gods and ancestors. The time of storytelling was of deep importance to Maiara. She regarded it as a time of reflection upon faith - faith was what got her through the pain of day to day living, for the world was hard and cruel, but with brother Crow watching over her, she managed to move through her days. She sat back, her hands clasped gently in her lap, eyes closed and ready to hear the magic of the words - but she had forgotten the presence of the old man. He chuckled, and Maiara flinched slightly - even Taivas knew of the importance of this time for her, and not to bother her - but she managed to regain her composure. She opened her eyes briefly, sent him a quick smile, but then closed her eyes again and tried to listen... "Eywaat and Japikoa," laughed the old man. "Certainly one of my favourites. So very romantic. What do you think, Maiara?" She breathed deeply through her nose, trying to hear the voice of the girl amongst the man's incessant chatter ... "One day an old warrior came to the Wayhali's daughter for care" ... but the old man's voice prevailed. She sighed, and flickered her eyes open, turning her head slightly, a terse smile on her face. It was clear, despite all her attempts at composure, that she was getting irritated. "Yes, Elder. This is one of my favourites, too." Although her words were quick and snappy, there was no denying the genuine undertone. She began to pick at the skin of her thumbnail. "Oh? And why would that be?" Maiara turned sideways to look at him - managing to ascertain some space between them, but their bodies and faces were still close - she did not flinch. She did, however, look confused at his question. "What do you mean? I am Chaktawe." "Why does that have anything to do with why it is your favourite, Maiara dear?" "Well... Brother Crow is my God. He guides me, takes care of me, looks out for me. I know that he is concerned for our well being." Her voice quavered, emotion clearly underpining her words. Her words seemed so ineffectual to her, like they weren't enough, but they were all she had - they kept coming, telling her devotion for Eywaat to this man, like a bubbling spring in the desert. "Eywaat is the god of ingenuity, you see, Elder... of course you know that, I beg your pardon. But ingenuity allows us to live every day, allows us the grace of taking a new breath each morning. To live on these desert plains and not become overwhelmed by the elements ... ingenuity is essential. Needed. And I am a healer, and sometimes, the answers are not obvious, sometimes, we need to be ingenius. How could I not worship the God who is patron of all this? How could I not worship Eywaat when he secures my survival and the survival of others as I heal them? He is a youthful god, a fun god, but he still looks out for his children. Eywaat is a caring God, and I need ..." Quickly realising she had overshared, she flushed and looked downwards at her entwined hands. "I apologise, I got a little carried away." Carefully, gently, the old man reached out and put his hand on top of hers. When Maiara finally looked up, she saw his face transformed by a gentle smile. He was no longer grinning as if Maiara was something he would like to use that night, but rather a smile of understanding and something more than that, which Maiara couldn't quite figure out, rested on his lips. "No, Maiara. You don't have to apologise. I think ... Eywaat would be very pleased to know he means that much to you. You are a very special Chaktawe, Maiara." With a gentle squeeze of her hands, he suddenly and abruptly stood up. As she peered up at his face, she wondered if suddenly, he looked a lot younger - but it was a trick of the light, she presumed. "Lovely to have met you, my dear," he murmured, and left just as suddenly as he came, turning away from the young Abayla woman and walking into the darkness behind her, away to the silent tents, leaving her suddenly bereft and lonely to listen to the story of Eywaat and Japikoa. "Japikoa said yes. And so the god, enraptured by her unbending spirit, took her as his bride. And they were together the rest of her days." * * * * * The next day was hot, as it ever was in the desert, and there was a significant threat of a sandstorm that evening. The sky was a golden yellow throughout the day, and the natural light of Syna seemed muted and dull. It was all in all a depressing day. Maiara could not find herself with much energy that day, and she wandered aimlessly amongst the tents of her people. As she walked amongst the grove of the keerdash trees - for walking was what she did when she was thinking - she thought of the old man, who suddenly did not seem so old in her memory. He had been interesting. His intentions seemed to change as they spoke. She didn't know what she had done to change his mind, but it seemed that she had nonetheless. And then there was the fact of his changing appearance ... or was it merely a trick of the light? Why did it matter so much anyway? She couldn't account for why she was thinking on it so much. She simply was. As she walked, she listened to the still calm. There was no noise, but even the silence had an effect on the mood of the place, as it were preparing for the storm that was sure to come. There was no wind, no rustling, just the quietness of nature and the humidity of the day. It was serene, calm, and a little disconcerting. A broken caw reached her ears. She looked up, for surely it was the sound of a crow, and it would be resting in the trees above her - after having Shenami for so long, she knew what a crow sounded like. Shenami was exceedingly vocal. But there was no black plummage above her, no glinting black beady eyes glinting as they surveyed her with an intelligence most did not give them credit for. She continued to walk amongst the grove. The caw came again. She looked down this time - she was not entirely sure why, for surely one looked upwards to find a crow? But there, on the ground before her, amongst the dusty floor of the keerdash grove lay a crow. Its plumage was shiny and magestical, and clearly the crow was in the rpime of its life. Its black eyes fixed on her, and with a broken caw again, drew Maiara's attention to the fact that despite the crow's regality, its right wing was bending the wrong way, broken. With a gasp, Maiara scurried down to it, moving quickly to get to the bird. He lay his head upon the ground, eyes closed, waiting for Maiara to finish her assessment as her hands hovered over the wing, trying to see how to best go about healing it. There was no way she could ignore such an injured crow. Firstly, because she had taken on a personal vow to heal all she came across, and secondly - perhaps more importantly - this crow was a symbol of Eywaat, and she would stop at nothing to honour her god. She brought out her healing bag, for she kept it strapped around her waist at all times, and began to work on the crow. It cawed hoarsely every so often, sometimes flinching in pain as Maiara sturdily wrapped a bandage around the wing. The bird would not be able to fly for a while, perhaps some tendays, but it was important the wing was immobilised so that the bones could knit together once again. "Do not worry, little Crow," she murmured as she finished up the bandaging process. "Eywaat and I look over you." With those words, she sat back, a finger running across the bird's glossy uninjured wing. A proud smile touched her pretty face as she contemplated the full recovery the crow was sure to make. She turned then, to put the healing items into her bag again. "I will just pack this up, my friend, and then--" She turned around, and her entire sentence ground to a halt. She looked with shock at the crow, for a crow there was no longer, instead there was a young man. His skin was copper, and his dress was Chaktawe, though his eyes were like those of a foreigner. He was undeniably handsome. She looked at him, shocked, and tried to say something. Was this magic? There was clear fear in her eyes. The man chuckled at her. "Do you not recognise me, Maiara dear?" He knelt before her, an inquisitive tilt to the head as a bird does when one addresses it. "How... you know me? But... you were a bird! What--?" The man did not answer her questions, instead he watched her face with a mischievous grin until suddenly, with a gasp, it came to her. "Lord Eywaat!" She was flabbergasted, could not believe she was sitting before the one that made her days bearable, that she had such faith in, but it was undeniably he. There were stories of his multiple guises as he went around and met with the Chaktawe, testing their faith and devotion - and who else could turn from a man to a crow? "You moved me last night, Maiara," he said with a grin, and suddenly the visage of the old man flashed into her mind. "You?" "Aye, me. It is a compliment to have one so true and honest as you follow me. I have not seen such devotion in my time. You should be rewarded for it - no good deed shall go unnoticed, not even just the kindness a pretty girl shows to an ugly smelly man." With a grin, Eywaat leaned in, until the tip of his finger was touching the center of her forehead. Maiara felt a tingle run through her body, and she closed her eyes momentarily, letting the sensation simply rush over her. When she closed her eyes, Eywaat was gone, and she suddenly felt bereft of his presence. But the caws of the birds suddenly were a language she could understand, and she understood and thanked Eywaat for blessing her, her voice joining the cacophonies of crows. Relations Taivas Taivas is Maiara's twin brother, both of whom were born on the same day of winter. He has gone through everything Maiara has, and despite their differences in personality, he is the most important person in the world to her. He is exuberant, hyperactive, and treats the world as if it were a game, and although his attitude never fails to bring a smile to Maiara's face, she waits for the day when all his frivolity will catch up with him. She gently tries to guide him to some maturity, to get him to stop messing around with his swords and with his women, but so far, she has been unsuccessful. Despite his faults, she loves him very much, and he is the only person in the world she will smile for - though she does not do that anymore. Shenami Shenami is quite a cheeky crow in his old age. Maiara's father gained him himself when he was young, and now has passed him off to Maiara, knowing her love of the bird. Maiara has had him since her tenth birthday and has loved him greatly since then. Shenami himself is seventeen years old, and will pass away soon, but he is still cheeky and playful, often dive bombing people just to annoy them and to frighten. He also likes to steal food from them when they least expect it, and nip at their fingers lightly. He can often be seen flying over Maiara's head or perched on her shoulder, though often he disappears for long hours - but Maiara knows he will always come back to her. They have a close bond, and often Maiara speaks to him as she goes along. He is about 23 inches long and weighs 2lb. His wingspan is 46inches. His feathers are constantly ruffled and mattled, an offputting look that is a sign of his own age, but Maiara loves him nonetheless. Skills and Training Camouflage 10 Herbalism 25 Medicine 25 Eywaat Eyktol Flora With Medicinal Values Tawna Fluent Arumenic Conversational Shiber Broken Possessions and Ledger Feathered loincloth with a slit and material covering the chest, with a jackal night cloak. A healer's kit. Heirloom: A hooded crow, belonging to her father. Her love for birds has meant that she has claimed her. His name is Shenami. 600gm: traded in SP 550gm: bought a healer's kit (SP) Thread List None yet.