Before meeting her husband, Mayve was training to become a weaver, like her mother. Unfortunately, her father's strict regimen came first - and she eventually became a soldier, then put her skills into medicine rather than combat (despite being built for combat).
Narangelel was encouraged to become an artisan like her mother, Chotan, and she spent a few years training under the tribe craftsmen. While she chose a different specialization from her mother - woodworking rather than pottery - both of her parents were satisfied and even proud of her.
Nevertheless, wanderlust won in the end, and Nara first learned how to wield a spear and then went on to leave the Steppe. Her parents didn’t disapprove the choice as such, but they (and particularly her mother) would have preferred if she had stayed home, being their only daughter and all.
Although Nara would probably be classified as an adventurer rather than a hunter nowadays, she considers herself both - and she still enjoys doing woodworking in her leisure time.
Variegated Solomon’s Seal: What is one thing you wished you could seal away and never see/feel/use/etc again? Why? (for any/all :] )
(You said ‘all’, so here you go - long post ahead!)
“As much as I hate some things, losing them completely could be dangerous if it lead to careless or complacency, like uncertainty or old memories. I’m not sure if there’s anything I’d want to get rid of.”
“...actually, scrap that. If I could seal away any single thing, I’d do that to Ifrit. Or the primals in general. They deserve to be sent to the seventh hell and never be seen again.”
“Is emptiness a feeling? If so, I would seal away that. Sometimes it feels as if my feelings had already been sealed away in part, and I would do almost anything to break free of that uncertain numbness.”
“One thing which I would never see, feel or use again...? I think I would choose my worries... ah, no, my anxiety. Losing all concern could make me unkind and that would be awful, but... I wish my heart wouldn’t get gripped by such dread so often.”
“I would seal away my magic. I don’t think that it can ultimately be used for anything good.”
“Hm, I’m not sure if there is anything in my personal life which I would like to seal away - and more general-level concepts like poverty or greed are complex and rooted in many things, which would probably mean that they can’t be eradicated without further actions.”
“I suppose I wish I could seal away my family’s expectations of carrying the less savoury parts of their legacy, but I have more or less accepted my role. I will do my best not to pass it onto the next generations - and will likely succeed, as I have no intention of having children of my own.”
“Sayin’ ‘all the fishbacks’ wouldn’t probably be allowed, aye? I don’t care fer ‘em, but I guess could do with their slimy scaly god-primal, too. Ain’t a lot of La Nosceans who wouldn’t wish fer that, I reckon.”
“Saying ‘nah’ would probably be more in line with my personality, but you know what? I wouldn’t mind if I could seal away my memories of Cartenau. If I needed to remember that I was there, others could just say “oh, G’ilas, you were there too!” and then I could go “oh, I guess I really was!...”
“... and I could do without the pain.”
“Give me a way to seal away betrayal, and I’d do almost anything. Seeing your own parents give you up for some bloody stupid heretic crap? I don’t need that, and I especially don’t need to remember how it felt.”
“I don’t know. Tears? Frustration? No: even though I wish people’s actions and words wouldn’t get under my skin so often, both of those have their time and place. I feel like everything - or at least more or less everything - in my life has been there for a reason, even though all of it has hardly been pleasant. That’s why I don’t think I would wish to seal anything away.”
“I would seal away my headaches, which distract me and prevent me from doing my duties. I am aware that they might be a warning sign and something which should be heeded...”
“...but I would still remove them and do my duty to my full extent instead of being gripped by slow deterioration and a seed of doubt.”
Black Raspberry Cheesecake: a sexuality and/or romanticism headcanon (romantic orientation, sexual orientation, etc).
I decided to answer this for several characters because I got inspired: the answers aren’t very NSFW, but I hid them behind a readmore just in case due to the topic (and because I ended up getting long-winded).
Cain is pansexual, and probably half of the people he finds interesting enough to sketch are also the kind of people he wouldn’t mind sleeping with if given a chance and asked to. He is rather curious - but also lacking when it comes to initiating interactions. He’s had maybe one or two one-night stands, and that’s it.
He is also grey-aromantic and has started forming bonds with people only in the recent years. He doesn’t value traditional displays of love a whole lot and would probably turn awkward if someone tried to court him, but he has slowly shifted from being touch-averse to being more touch-neutral (or even enjoying physical touch in certain circumstances).
Narangelel grew up believing that her parents’ relationship was what she should strive for - even though I doubt the Xaela as whole are 100% heteronormative. She is what I’d call “bi-curious”, though, meaning that she can develop attachment and that kind of interest towards girls, too (and possibly other genders as well).
I’m not sure how strong her feelings are in general. Nara strikes me as someone who likes the idea of romance, but as with other emotions, she is still in the process of discovering them in their true depth and breadth.
Storm is bisexual, but his flings after leaving Gyr Abania can be counted with one hand, and you wouldn’t need a whole lot of fingers. That side of him has been more or less neatly packed and tucked away.
He is also aromantic (or possibly grey-aromantic). He courted someone when he was young, but his attachment to her was more based on friendship and fascination rather than desire for a romantic relationship. Nowadays, he is more likely to find developing almost parental attachment to others than love or passion - though he tries to rein that in as well so that he doesn’t end up being patronizing.
Lumien is asexual and panromantic. He gets easily attached to people who are kind to him (or at least impressed by them), and that can lead to him developing mild crushes. That being said, he is very bad at acting on his crushes and fears that confessing any feelings would just complicate things.
I’m not completely sure of G’ilas’s orientation, but I have a feeling that it played at least a small part in his reason for not wanting to become a Nunh. He likes almost everyone; he might not love them.
Merces is... ace-aro for now. He hasn’t really thought about the subject. He probably doesn’t think that it would be relevant to someone like him. He would, however, sleep with someone if they asked him to do so - but given his background, there’s definitely problematic/unfortunate implications in such interactions. Er. Maybe I should not elaborate.
“I come from the Kha tribe, who are known in the Steppe for welcoming guests from different places and embracing their customs. When I was little, my main duty was helping my mother to serve the guests that we would host: make them tea, listen to their stories and make sure they had enough pillows and furs,” Narangelel tells and takes a sip of her steaming milk tea.
“However, when I grew older, I wanted to do more and asked if I could join my father’s side in hunts. I think I might have been inspired by the tales our guests would tell and the exotic weapons some of them carried, but I was also starting to feel restless. Going on hunts allowed me to feel the wind on my face in the wilds and leave our camp for a little while, and it helped with the restlessness for a little while.”
She smiles faintly and perhaps with a hint of melancholy before focusing on her tea.
Baati would leave a small, hand-carved wooden bead as an offering
Wood represents the trees - the land’s connection to the sky - and the carvings on the bead are like pathways. The offering is accepted with humility and gratefulness. When you next feel a warm breeze caress your face or hear a starling sing, may a friend’s hand join with yours, and may your path be easier to walk.
Narangelel is the deity of long journeys, sometimes likened to a minor aspect of Oschon. She is associated with wanderlust, self-discovery, migratory birds and the element of wind. However, she is also linked with tradition or one’s figurative roots, which is why she likes offerings related to one’s homeland or origins: in order to return home from a long journey, you need to know where you came from, after all.
Her holiday is celebrated in spring, on the first day with full moon after the snows have melted: the ideal day for leaving for a journey. In addition, when a traveller comes back, her name is often evoked in a prayer to rejoice their return. Her followers tend to be wanderers who are far from home - particularly Xaela - and she has no shrines. Any offerings are left on the side of the road, on top of a malm stone, or near a bird’s nest.
(Part of the FFXIV September writing challenge; takes back ca. 12 years ago)
Chotan of Kha had seen twenty-one summers when she had given birth to her first and only child. They named her Narangelel - ‘little sunlight’, as Chotan’s husband Subegetei liked to call her – and she was a beautiful and sensible daughter. Quiet and demure, which made her well-loved amongst the guests they had the honour to serve, yet resilient enough to stand the harsh winters of the Steppe and the other tribes, when their path clashed with the Kha’s. In many ways, Narangelel was like her mother; every time someone mentioned that to Chotan, she accepted the compliment with grace, and her heart swell with pride.
Yet in some other ways, Narangelel was much more like her father.
One spring morning, when snow had cleared but the air was still filled with cool mist, Chotan went to fetch water from a nearby river and found Narangelel sitting underneath a lone tree. It was still early and the plains were wrapped in a silver-and-blue haze, but a single beam of light peeked between the cracks of the cloudy veil. It fell on Narangelel, who sat with her eyes closed, and washed over her shimmering scales, grey skin and violet hair. Morning dew clung to her tunic and trousers, but she seemed oblivious to their dampness.
Chotan walked closer and allowed the rustling of grass to speak of her arrival before she spoke herself.
“Narangelel,” she called, tilting her head quizzically as she looked at her daughter. “You are awake early. Is something wrong?”
If Narangelel had been surprised, she didn’t show it: her eyes opened, and she looked at Chotan with a placid expression. In the morning haze, her limbal rings seemed to almost glow.
“I’m sorry if I have made you worry, mother,” she apologized and stood up. “I couldn’t sleep, and Orbeina said that the first light of the dawn is something beautiful and special. I thought that I could come here to watch it.”
Chotan couldn’t resist a soft laugh escaping from her mouth, and she placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.
“Did one of the guests tell her that? Orbeina has always been so easily swayed. Both Nhaama and Azim shine on us beautifully, whether it is the first or the last light of the day,” she said, but something about Narangelel’s expression made her soften her tone as she continued. “Did it feel special?”
“It didn’t feel different.” Narangelel’s serious face and quiet tone carried hints of troubled thoughts that didn’t feel fitting for a girl of fifteen summers. “The light warmed my face, but I thought I would feel something else than just warm and tired.”
“Warmth is what keeps us alive,” Chotan reminded, and her hand slid down Narangelel’s shoulder and took hold of her hand. Still, her voice was gentle. “Your father did the same thing when he was still with the Oronir, only with the last light of the sundown. He almost caught a cold from doing that. Perhaps it is a matter of right day? Today is looking to be quite cloudy, after all. Let’s go back now and have a cup of tea, and maybe you can try again this evening. One of the guests from the south spoke of golden suns and clouds that look like deep red seas. He is still at the village; you could ask him.”
Narangelel nodded, but Chotan could see her uncertainty, and it worried her a little. Her daughter always did her duties diligently and seemed to enjoy spending time with their guests, but there was something in her lavender eyes that hinted of an unsettled heart. Same restlessness had once brought Subegetei to Chotan, but now she feared it would take away her daughter one day.
As they made their way back to the village, Chotan prayed that Nhaama would keep Narangelel safe and close to home. Still, a part of her was begun to prepare for the time when their little sunshine’s road would take her elsewhere – whether to another tribe or even further away, to the lands beyond the mountains and the borders of the Steppe.
hands: What does your character hold onto most tightly? Nara
(( @renofmanyalts also asked the same question! ))
I don't feel like Narangelel has a lot which she would onto that tightly. She is willing to adapt to or mimic others' customs, so while things like tradition or Xaela culture are a part of who she is, they aren't necessarily an immutable part. She enjoys her freedom, but I could also see her settling down if she found the right person (and/or the thing she feels she is lacking).
Then again, she does hold quite tightly onto certain core values like politeness and adaptability. She might struggle if she had to fit into one single strict role, such as "submissive wife" or "fearless hunter" (to give a couple of stereotypical examples). Rudeness in particular doesn't really come naturally to her.
You could also probably say that Narangelel's travelling companion and friend Baati is one of the things she holds onto most tightly at the moment, and the longer they have travelled together and the further they have gone, the closer she has got with Baati. Nara goes where Baati goes and would be willing to lay a lot on the line for her sake.
Narangelel had been sitting in the bar, drinking a glass of roelanberry juice and waiting for her friend Baati to return from training, when a stranger had struck a conversation with her. They had taken care of most of the talking and Nara had taken care most of the listening until suddenly the stranger had asked:
”Do you feel homesick?”
She had been nearly as surprised as the stranger when she had answered ‘no’.
She thought about her home in the Azim Steppe, its mountain, lands and sky. She remembered how mist danced on the meadows on cool autumn mornings and how the wind started carrying promises of winter. She reminisced the flowers dotted amongst the blades of lush grass which fed the sheep and provided them with life. She saw their gers with her mind’s eye: how colourful and decorated they were on the inside, with place for all the mementos from the guests they had served, visitors’ cultures mingling with their own. She thought back to the beasts she hunted when she was old enough – from the mu shuwuu and their piercing cries to the great and mighty dzos which she only took down once together with her mentor and her father.
But she also couldn’t help thinking about the places she had seen during her journeys. The open waters of the Ruby Sea, which shone in the evening sun like the gems it had been named after. The crunch of sand and the dusty winds of Thanalan. The Black Shroud, where trees were so tall yet nights full of danger; of spirits whose existence Nara had scarcely believed before the flickering lights almost took her life. The eternal snows of Coerthas: desolate and cruel, sometimes creeping into the hearts of its inhabitants. Even Mor Dhona was mesmerizing even though crystals had taken the place of plants and animals were likely to hunt people than get hunted.
It was all so different – so very different from home.
Did Narangelel miss the Steppe? Yes, she did. Did she miss her family? Of course. She thought fondly about them, just as she thought about her tribe, and she wanted to go back one day. She was sure she would.
But that day was not now, when the road was still open ahead of her and when she hadn’t found what she was looking for. Until that, she would walk on, meeting the colourful birds and curious people of Eorzea and hoping – or believing – that eventually she would go back home.
