#vanaar

[hinsaa-paramo-dharma]

I just watched Luv Kush: the warrior twins and MY LOVE FOR THIS MOVIE WENT OFF THE CHARTS WHEN I HEARD RAM JI'S VOICE

[belugabear]

Day 8: Shed

It wasn’t much when they got there. Just shandy beaches, a small hut that looked like it could be blown over by a stiff wind, and, of course, the mammots. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for them. 

Amille, Vanaar, and Estinien would speed weeks at a time there, sometimes joined by X’kebhi and G’raha or their other friends, but more often than not left to their own devices in the untamed island. There would be days while the three of them would run drills on the beach. Amille would teach Estinien cards while Vanaar cooked spicy snacks with the fruits and herbs on the island. Sometimes Vanaar and Amille would go hunting or mining. And other times still, the three of them would lay in the cool night air and let the stars above wash over them. 

That was the magic of the island. No one would tell them what to do, who to be. They were free there, to explore themselves, each other. To try to win back the years that had been taken from their lives. And they savored every minute of it. 

[kebbige]

I shoulda uploaded this forever ago lol whoops, but I got this wonderful art done of X’kebhi and Vannar (my WoL and @belugabear‘s WoL respectively) done a while back by the wonderful @kollapsar and it’s VERY GOOD LIKE HOLY SHIT LOOKIT THESE BEANS

This is the emotional support cats circa Shadowbringers, but obviously during some downtime when the plot isn’t kicking their teeth in xD

[amaro-knight]

Prompt #18: Wilt

The bottom of her pint came faster than the one before, which had come faster than the one before that. Ale always seemed to disappear faster this time of night. She clanked the tankard heavily to the table, and let out a long sigh. She was still far too lucid to retire for the night. The fringed edges of herself were fraying, dying at the tips. But she could not even think about returning to the life she had once tried to live. She was a coward through and through. 

“Excuse me. . .” The soft voice came from behind Vanaar, and she tensed reflexively. Her hands balled into fists, and it took every ounce of strength in her not to reach for a weapon that was no longer there, that had not been there for months. 

“When I settled down in the area,” Vanaar said slowly, “I used to deck well meaning souls that snuck up on me. Consider yourself lucky that I’ve had eight months to settle down.” 

“Oh well, you do sound quite tough.” A young girl stepped up to the table, and Vanaar had to blink twice to believe her eyes. If she hadn’t known better, remembered some nugget tucked away in her head that Alphinaud had a sister-a twin-then she would have sworn that he was beside her in the flesh. The girl stuck out her hand. “Alisaie Leveileur. I’ve followed your exploits, Warrior of Light.” 

A monster--how could it be so big?--stood before her. Ice raced through her blood. How could she possibly be expected to bring it down? If this was what it meant to be a hero, if this was the fate she faced as Hydaelyn’s chosen, then she wanted none of it. 

Vanaar looked at the girl’s outstretched palm and scoffed. “You obviously haven’t been following close enough. I’m not the Warrior of Light. You must have me mistaken for someone else.” 

She had fought many monsters, each one impossibly larger and more ferocious than the last. This one. . .this was too much. Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she could not heart the call of her comrades until it was too late. 

“Perhaps not.” The girl looked genuinely thoughtful for a moment, before a flash of anger overtook her eyes. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, then. The realm needs fresh, blooming soldiers, not wilted relics of the past.” 

The comment might have stung two months ago, but Vanaar had done well to dull her senses since she had come here. Nothing could slip through. She waved the girl off. 

The stench rose from the battlefield as she limped back to the scions. They had the nerve to call it a victory, but she could not rinse the stain of blood from her lance, she could not clear the bodies from her sight. The stench stayed with her for days, weeks, months. There were so many bodies. 

As Vanaar greedily gulped at the fresh pint of ale that the bartender set before her, a look worse than anger overtook Alisaie’s face. Pity overwhelmed her features. 

“Meditate,” Alisaie said, turning for the door. “Get in touch with nature. You’re rotting out here, try instead to grow.”

[lukedeards]

Liked on YouTube: Aven Colony Let's Play #1: Vanaar - Part 1, Laying Foundations https://youtu.be/MZsRxlpKuqg

[saidarpan]

Manojavam Marutatulyavegam Jitendriyam Buddhimatam Varishtham। Vatatmajam Vanarayuthamukhyam Shriramadutam Sharanam Prapadye॥ It means that I take refuge in Sri Hanuman, the one, who is swift as the mind and fast as the wind. He is the master of the senses and honored for his excellent intelligence, learning, and wisdom. He is the son of the wind god and chief among the Vanaars. Visit https://www.saidarpanastro.com/ or call +91 9900001438

[by-the-rising-of-the-moon]

Meet Eyzimir, the very old, very powerful witch I'll be playing at a LARP this weekend. She's from the culture that's the Viking analog, called Vanaar, and some of the players have had dealings with her in the past, so this should be really fun. After I'm done with this character I'll be redoing the staff just a bit, like removing the skull and moving the leather grip higher up so I can use it in my own practice.

[belugabear]

Day 7: Noisome

EW spoilers for this one, so the whole thing is under a cut!

The air around Amon was still, putrid, tinged with death itself. While Vanaar had not been personally at the crystal tower, she had heard enough from X’kebhi to know exactly who this was. They had defeated an avatar of death, a shard of Hermes. The best thing was to let him fade into oblivion and yet something compelled her forward. 

As he languished on about the meaning of it all, Vanaar stepped up and placed a hand on his shoulder. She also knew what happened with Ardbert, had seen some of it first hand through her resonance with X’kebhi. Looking up at Amon with tears streaming down her face, she smiled. 

“Your time for searching has come to an end,” she said. “It’s time to consider another perspective. Something we used to love. Discard death, suffering and despair. Embrace life. Embrace creation.” 

She pulled him into a tight hug, and could feel her soul reaching out to his. She could feel the completion of a part of her, long lost, being returned.

[belugabear]

Day 5: Barbarous

“What….Interesting scars you have.” 

It was hardly the first comment like this that Vanaar had received in Sharlyan. She had received so many open stares–ranging from thinly veiled curiosity to outright disgust– that she had taken to wearing her hair down, covering as much of her face–and those pale, spiderweb fractals–as she could, but the research they were doing was so immersive that she had tied it back without thinking. 

Many people here didn’t approve of her profession as an adventurer. The class divide was just as strong as when she had left what felt like lifetimes ago. This is why her parents had wanted her to study, why they’d saved their earnings as gleaners, why she had left before she could disappoint them. She just didn’t fit in this society. 

The woman continued to stare, and Vanaar knew she was looking for a story, some salacious tale about unhinged rage and brutality. 

You should see how I left my opponent, she would want to hear and…she wouldn’t be disappointed with the truth. That fight with Elidibus returned, that wound that still gaped and ached and burned deep within her, that had not scarred as neatly as the lightning blast she had taken to half of her face…it would make an excellent dinner tale for this woman to recount. Can you believe how they live over there? She would say to her friends.

I’m so glad that we’ve situated ourselves so defensively, her friends might reply. We’re safe from such horrid conflicts. 

Vanaar wasn’t going to give them an inch. 

She nodded and returned to the book that was open before her. With any grace of the Twelve, the woman would take a hint. Instead, she sat down at the small table next to Vanaar. Uncomfortably, Vanaar glanced around the room to see if any of her companions were available to make help me eyes at. Amille had wisely bowed out of this excursion to train–how Vanaar wished that was herself at the moment–and she knew X’kebhi was on a different floor. The others were either impossible to locate, or so engrossed in their research that they didn’t notice her pleading eyes. 

“Your life must have been terribly hard for you to have turned to such a dangerous profession,” the woman prodded. 

“I actually had the chance to study, but I preferred travel,” Vanaar replied. 

The comment had the scandalizing effect that she’d hoped. The woman looked almost offended at the notion. But still, she didn’t leave. 

“Anyway, I’m trying to do some research, so…” Vanaar pointed to the book she had been trying to read. 

“But still haven’t told me how you got such terrible damage to your face. Could the healers not get to you in time? Were the wounds just that deep?” 

Images of that horrid night kept flashing through her memories. The way Elidibus twisted Zenos’ mouth into that wretched smile, the swing of that blade, the few companions she had remaining laying helpless on the ground around her. 

“I’m a healer by profession, actually.” 

This seemed to shock the woman even more than the comment about having turned down the chance to become a student.  

“So they singled you out? Attacked you to get ahead?”

Once more she saw that wicked grin flash in front of her eyes. Vanaar slammed both of her palms down on the table and stood. 

“I chose to go into that battle because there were people who needed me. I chose to engage the foe that gave me this,” she paused to gesture at her face, to pull off her glove to reveal just how far the scar traveled, “because I had already killed the man whose body was being puppeted, and I wanted to make sure he stayed. Dead. 

Several people were looking their way now, but Vanaar didn’t care. She kept her voice low, a deep growl as she focused in on the elezen before her. “When I chose to engage that enemy, many of my closest allies were…gone. I knew that I had no place in this realm without them, so when I went after that man, I was chasing my death. Hope that story does well at your next dinner party.” 

The woman blinked a few times, then stood. She took a few steps towards the door, then turned over her shoulder, as though to ask another question, but as she did, she ran into someone–tall, imposing, the sight of Estinien sent an odd feeling of relief through Vanaar. Besides herself, he and Amille were the only ones who chose “adventuring” as their professions. He understood the looks she was getting, even if his scars lay deeper beneath his armor. 

“The time for questions is over. Kindly leave my friend alone.” 

It was odd hearing “friend” come out of his mouth in this context. Until very recently they had been…the exact terms of their rivalry was hard to put words to. She felt her pulse quicken as she remembered the end of that fight. It was fuzzy, but Aymeric had filled in the details for her. Estinien had saved her. That was even before they had reached this tentative peace between them. As the woman walked sheepishly away, he strode up to her table and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

“I never thanked you,” Vanaar said, then quickly added, “--for that night.” 

He frowned and sat down across from Vanaar, blessedly taking up the other available chair. 

“If I’d wanted your thanks, I would have stuck around to hear it.” 

There was some kind of look in his eyes that she could not place–somewhere between longing and regret, inscrutable. 

“I wish you had.”

[belugabear]

Day 4: Off the Hook

Vanaar seethed as the man, this so called exarch, led her through the city, shut out his words as he tried to make small talk. But if her recent battles had taught her anything, it was how to stay her hand. She bided her time, planning her every move until the moment he made the mistake of taking her into a chamber alone. 

She let him walk a few paces into the glowing crystalline room. In a blink, she had him in a bind, knife drawn and at his throat.

“Drop your staff,” she growled. 

To her surprise, he complied. “Where on earth were you hiding that? I thought you were a healer.”

It was something Kebhi had taught her. Concealing a knife was easy enough if you knew where you could keep it while still maintaining access. And Vanaar certainly couldn’t argue with the results. 

“That’s none of your concern,” she said to the man. “Where are you keeping them?” 

“Ah. She did warn me that you would be upset.” 

A flash of hot anger pierced through Vanaar at his cavalier attitude, at the very informal way he referred to any one of her friends. She touched the cold blade to his skin. 

“Who?” she demanded. “Who told you that? Have you any idea how much you’ve stolen from me?” 

“It was an accident–” 

“An accident?” The flush of anger spread to her cheeks. “You left me alone on a battlefield. Everyone around me has paid a price for those missing. These scars are because–” 

“Vanaar?” The voice behind her made her stop in her tracks. She did not need to turn to know who it was, she would recognize her companion anywhere. Kebhi.

“Vanaar, drop the knife. He’s a friend.”

[belugabear]

Day 9: Fair

Huuuuuge Endwalker spoilers on this one .

As the last of her companions faded from view, tears welled in her eyes. Vanaar was tired. And once again, she was alone. There was no reason in this, no fairness. But there was a kind of music to it, a song that she now knew the chorus to. 

She took one step. 

The first time she had been alone, it was in the aftermath of the ultimate weapon. There were people around her, sure, but no one understood, no one seemed to get why she still woke screaming in the night. She was a hero. She was stronger than that. And so she ran away. 

She took another step.

After that, she was alone in the aftermath of the banquet. So many sacrificed themselves for her in that moment–not much unlike now. She felt a sense of onus to them then that she did not feel now however. Then, she couldn’t step back, couldn’t see the picture for what it was. All she could see then was her friends abandoning her so that she had to fight alone. 

She took another step. 

There was many times in Ishgard and the days that followed where Vanaar felt utterly alone, but none so much as after Haurchefant and Ysayle’s sacrifices. It was something she might never get used to, one throwing themselves away in utter belief of her cause. There were other ways. And she found another who believed the way she did. She found X’kebhi in that aftermath. 

She took another step. 

There were times that Vanaar tried to rush into danger, or X’kebhi, but after that, there were far fewer times when Vanaar felt the gut-wrenching isolation, the mad scales of fate tipped so far away from justice. She had someone who understood. And then she met Amille and…and then the disease hit–or what they thought was disease. Yet again Vanaar had to watch as systematically, those closest to her were ripped from her life. 

She took another step. 

She had tried to push Amille away, unsuccessfully. She had tried to continue on with X’kebhi. In the absence of her two closest allies, Vanaar succumbed to a darkness that had surprised even her. 

She took another step. 

The First was filled with small moments of loneliness. Everyone had had so much time to establish themselves. Even X’kebhi who’d been there the shortest had seemed to fall perfectly in sync with the Exarch, she’d had Ardbert too. 

She took another step. 

Amaurot had struck a despairing chord of pain and loneliness deep within both her and X’kebhi. Now she had a better idea as to why. 

She took another step. Ahead of her was a steep incline. One she would have to climb on her own. One she was ready to take on by herself. Through each of those moments of pain, sorrow, isolation, Vanaar had gained a deeper appreciation for the world and the sacrifices around her. She understood now, the gravity of it all, the answer to the ever despairing question of life. She knew why she must always continue to take another step. 

So long as she drew breath, she would always be sure to hope.

[belugabear]

Prompt 2: Bark

There was a tree at the edge of town that had been struck by lightning. Bare wood was exposed in the split, but it continued to grow. Vanaar liked to visit that place, when the world was too loud, and her thoughts were too much. She felt a connection to this place. Slipping into meditation was effortless as she focused on the breeze on her face, the soft rustling of grass, the swaying of strong branches overhead. No amount of damage could break either of them. 

A twig snapped, jerking Vanaar from her reflection. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow as she felt her ears flattening to her head. Quietly, she stood, pressing her back against the tree. A large figure approached, heavy steps excessively loud in the silence of dawn. Whoever it was, they likely were not trying to get the jump on her. Still, she waited motionless in the shadows. If it was just a passerby, she would rather not make idle talk if it was not necessary. 

Vanaar had just started to be able to make out facial features when his eyes locked on her own. Estinien startled, taking a step back before recognition washed over him, easing his tension. 

“Why in the Twelve’s green earth would you hide like that?” he asked, adrenaline piercing his tone. 

It was nice to hear him speaking so candidly. They hadn’t had much of a chance to talk since he had come to her and Amille’s room, and when they had, it had been stiff, formal….awkward. 

“I was meditating,” she replied, trying to keep her tone normal. 

“At this hour?”

“You’re out here, aren’t you?”

He paused, defeat lining his features. “I like to train here, before the city wakes.” 

Stillness settled between them, burdened with all of the things they wanted to say, had no words to express. 

“Can I join you?” Vanaar said, finally. 

A smile hinted at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, then.”

[belugabear]

Prompt 1: Envoy

It should have been Kebhi. Or Alphinaud, or Y’shtola, or…Vanaar stopped that line of thought in its tracks. Circling that train of thought wouldn’t find them a cure. It wouldn’t wake them up. She alone traversed this battlefield, hands tightly clenched around her staff of healing.

She settled into the all-too-familiar stance she had learned while training with the lance. If needed, she was certain that she could get enough force behind her swings to really do some damage.

The accounts of what exactly she would find when she reached her few remaining comrades were varied. Fear tinted each version of the story. The Garlean prince, back from the grave, an ascian come to spread discord and torment. Vanaar suppressed a shudder. This meeting could turn the tides.

She had been present for many diplomatic meetings in the weeks leading up to this moment. If there was any small comfort in the world to take, it was that this meeting would surely end in bloodshed.

[amaro-knight]

Prompt #1: Voracious

Vanaar eyed the miqo’te in front of her. If they were to be traveling together while in Ishgard, she needed to make sure that the girl was up to her standards. Ul’dah still stained her memory with enough blood that the thought of starting over again, of re-forging that kind of connection, of pressing ahead with new companions as though she had not just confidently led all of her closest friends to their graves--it was all too much for her to even consider. 

And so she watched X’kebhi with a raised eyebrow and a cool scowl. Cid vouched for the girl, and after just a day lingering in her periphery, Vanaar could see why. The way she attacked knowledge as though it were a feast to be had at the end of a long fast was impressive to behold. Vanaar herself could hardly bring herself to sit still for even an hour’s worth of reading, and yet she never saw X’kebhi without a book, eagerly flipping through the pages at mealtimes or dividing her attention between paragraphs and repairs. She was truly a force to behold. Certainly having someone like her close by for all that was to come--it couldn’t hurt, could it? 

Vanaar tried to remember the last time she had felt so passionate about something. It had only been a few months since she had found the talent lying within her, since she had learned to conjure the elements themselves, but it felt like a lifetime ago. There had been passion in her then, moreso than she had ever felt wielding a lance or blade, it felt right to use the magic within her to help others. But when it truly mattered, when everyone she had cared about hung in the balance, she had been unable to save them. What good was hunger when everything you touch turns to ash? 

She had all but made up her mind to turn down X’kebhi entirely--too optimistic, too hopeful. Vanaar could not refuse her entirely, of course, that was beyond her sway, but she also could not in good conscience bring someone like her into the heart of battle at her side. Losing someone with as many prospects as X’kebhi had might be her own breaking point. She had decided to meet with Aymeric and discuss her misgivings after dinner when she felt a small tap on her shoulder. Ears perking to attention, she turned to see X’kebhi herself standing beside her. 

“You’ve been staring at me all day,” X’kebhi said, her tone gently probing, testing the interaction before it had even begun. “I take it Aymeric talked to you too?”

“Oh uh. . .” Vanaar bit her lip. She had not had enough wine yet to smooth her conversational skills, and found herself balking at such a direct approach. 

“I mean, it’s fine,” X’kebhi said. “I’m mostly just curious as to what you’ve found out about me.” 

“Right, well. . .” Vanaar would kill for a pint of ale, maybe something harder. “You seem very skilled. You’re good at what you do, there’s no denying.” 

“But?” For the first time, Vanaar noticed a hint of something in X’kebhi’s eyes, beneath the hunger, beneath the nonchalance. It was painfully familiar, resonating deeply within her.

“Why do you spend all your time researching?” Vanaar blurted. Tactless, she thought to herself. 

“Hm?” X’kebhi grinned, though there was no mistaking the look now. There was loss behind that smile. An achingly familiar sense of loss. “I guess it’s baffling that there’s so little we know about temporing, but our assumption that it’s impossible to cure is completely unchallenged. At least, that’s what I’m studying right now.” 

The picture was clear enough, Vanaar did not need to press further, though a part of her wanted to. 

“Well, if you’re as good a combatant as you are a researcher, I’ll be lucky to have you on our team.” 

X’kebhi belongs to @kebbige​

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[amaro-knight]

Prompt #2: Bargain

The first thing Vanaar felt as she dragged consciousness back into her waking nightmare was the searing pain. It lingered and built in her shoulder, radiated down her arm, across her face, into her torso. She winced. Imprinted on the backdrop of her closed eyes, inescapable from every blink, every moment of rest was Him. Glowering over her with that smirk of his, crackling blade raised, she would never be free from the memory of him. Her face would always bear the intricate web of scars he had given her. She still didn’t know whether to thank Estenian for saving her or curse him for not leaving her to die. 

She tried to sit, but her arm betrayed her, giving out as a fresh burst of pain shot through her body. Two days she had been like this, utterly and completely helpless. She could see the pity in everyone’s eyes as they came to visit, tried to help. One of the fabled Warriors of Light, the only one now. Only she could have even the hope of saving the others from whatever wicked magic had wrenched their souls from their bodies, and she could not even bring herself to sit up in bed. If they even could be saved. X’kebhi had not even left behind a body to save. She thought of Amille, cold and lifeless in her arms as Vanaar dragged her from the battlefield, and hot tears streamed down her cheeks, stinging at the fresh wounds on her face. She had to do something. 

“Hydaelyn,” Vanaar whispered to the empty room. “I never asked for this. You’ve taken everything, everyone from me and given me a gift I never wanted.” 

Silence pressed in around her, drowning her in the nothingness. As if compelled, she continued. 

“Everyone I’ve loved, everyone I’ve trusted has given their lives in service to you, and still it’s not enough to sate your greedy thirst, is it?” Her voice quivered as it broke free from the whisper. “You’ve accepted their lives like measly gil, doling out cryptic prophecies and binding gifts that nobody asked for.” 

Her throat choked up in a strangled cry. “You won’t even let me die. You won’t even give me that honor.” 

Steeling herself, she rose, pushing through the pain as a guttural cry erupted from the pit of her stomach. Her head spun as she pushed beyond sitting, as she placed her feet on the cold stone floor, as she put weight on feet that felt ready to collapse but for the sheer force of her will. 

“You can have me for your collection,” Vanar shouted. Tears stained the bandage across her eye, dripped onto her shirt. Someone would surely hear her shouting and be at her side within minutes, but she didn’t care. “Take my life in your service, since that’s all you care about. But bring them back. You can have my life in return for their souls. Their time isn’t over yet, you can’t have them. Take me instead.” 

In a rush the strength left her body. Vanaar’s knees buckled, and she crumpled to the ground as the door opened, an attendant rushing to her side, helping her back into bed. She clenched her fists. Nothing would keep her down for long. Tomorrow she would begin the search for her friends’ souls.  

---

I have so many feelings you guys, stormblood really did me like that. 

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[amaro-knight]

Prompt #16: Jitter

“Chin up, sapling, there’s nothing for you to be nervous about.” Feo Ul stopped primping and fussing over Vanaar’s hair long enough to throw her a warm smile. 

“There’s just. . .a lot more people than I was expecting, really,” Vanaar said. She fought back a fleeting urge to break into the champagne early, kill the nerves with a bit of booze. Ultimately, she didn’t want to run the risk of forgetting a single moment of this day, no matter how stressful it was. 

Feo Ul laughed. “Well what do you expect? You saved their realm, child, their very existence. I’m sure the castle would be bursting at the seams if we let in everyone whose life you’ve touched.” 

“And they’re all going to be looking at me.” Vanaar rubbed the sparkling lace hem of her dress between her fingers. Other-worldly material, surely, if her fae patron had anything to do with it. 

“Good thing you look hot in that dress,” X’kebhi said. She stepped fully into the room from her post at the door--neither of them fully trusted Amille to not try to sneak a look at her before the ceremony, tradition and luck be damned--and sized Vanaar up with a faux-analytical gaze. Finally after her calculations were complete, she gave a curt, satisfied nod. “They’ll be talking about your radiance for centuries.” 

“Kebhi,” Vanaar managed before the emotion choked at her throat, cutting her thought off short. She pulled the miqo’te in for a hug. 

“You two deserve your moment, Vee.” X’kebhi’s own voice was thick. “We’ve had to fight a lot of sin eaters and garleans and politicians to get here.” 

Feo Ul tapped at Vanaar’s shoulder, pulling her back with soft grace. “There there, I’ll have no more of that, you two! I’d barely finished Vanaar’s make up and there you go getting all teary eyed and sentimental. Come now, look up and to the right--yes, that’s better.” 

The pixie fussed around for several minutes longer while X’kebhi gave Vanaar a look that could only mean relief at not being the one under their skeptical gaze. Finally, when they were satisfied, they gave a small nod, first to Vanaar, then to X’kebhi. 

“I think you’re all set then, sapling. Best not keep her waiting any longer.” 

X’kebhi held out her arm to Vanaar and together they walked towards the ballroom. Vanaar felt a moment of relief, giving way to giddy flutters. There was no one else she would want at her side for this moment.

--

My darling emotional support cat belongs to @kebbige, and the dashing broom to be belongs to @kollapsar