#xaela dotharl

[paintedscales]

008. Dotharl

Nomin comes to learn more about the desert than she expected, as well as receives a pendant from Bayarmaa made from the copper piece from her Tumet trial. The Sagahl van eventually reaches the Dotharl Khaa, and Nomin is told about the souls of Dotharl...and even how souls of others are accepted into the tribe under certain circumstances. During all of this, she also connects with a young member of the Dotharl whose experiences resonate with her own that she immediately finds herself comforted by in some way.

Word count: 4,894

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

A day and a half transpired as the Sagahli van pressed forward through Nhaama’s Retreat. In the wake of the harsh sunlight that heated up the sands to incredible temperatures, Bayarmaa and Barghujin took the time one morning to ensure the back of Esenaij’s wain was covered by a thick cotton canopy so that Nomin was shaded from the sun's harsh rays. In the meantime, those who walked took lighter clothes from their packed belongings to wrap around their heads and bodies, also taking the time to get Nomin dressed in the light and airy garments for herself.

“What are these for?” Nomin asked as Bayarmaa helped get her dressed lightly, but protectively.

“To protect you from the harsh heat. These clothes will let your skin breathe while allowing the wind to come through and cool your body. The sun will damage and dehydrate us if we aren't careful out here during Azim’s hours,” Bayarmaa explained. “We may be able to find glorious bounties in the desert if we know what to look for, but even that won't sustain us if we succumb to heat sickness or being too parched to function.”

In addition to helping Nomin dress appropriately for the desert heat, Baryamaa produced a leather cord with the copper filigree. There were some beads made of polished stone and wood that also adorned the necklace, making it prettier to look at. Almost instantly, Nomin beamed widely when it was given to her.

“You made it into a necklace!” Nomin exclaimed, drawing the cord around her neck.

“Mhm! When you told me about it, I took some nights to help shave it down and blunt it a bit so it wouldn’t cut anything anymore. I hope that’s okay? I probably could have fit it into the backing without doing too much…” Bayarmaa started explaining, hoping that some of her work with it would have been fine by Nomin.

“I think you made it pretty!” Nomin happily said, her tail flicking upward every now and then as it fell back into place. She held the copper piece of the necklace in her hand, smiling all the while as she turned it to and fro, letting the sun glint off of it every now and then.

“Then I’m glad,” Bayarmaa replied simply, smiling warmly as she double checked Nomin’s garments to make sure they were secured before telling her to get back onto the wain.

Nomin had her own waterskin that Bayarmaa packed before they fully set off from the Sagahl Iloh, thankfully. It was not something Nomin thought of, so having the water to sup upon while she rode in the back of the shaded wain made all the difference for beating the heat along with the clothes she was made to wear. While she was back there, she had been given the responsibility of ensuring the fruit and vegetables were nestled safely and securely, as well as remaining largely undamaged.

Travel was impeded at one point thanks to a pack of gedan that were traveling the sands. The pack was not large, thankfully; five of them. Nomin was the first to get carried out of harm's way thanks to Daritai's instinct that led him to scooping her up and out of the way from getting her arm chomped by one of the charging hounds. All the while, Barghujin and Keuken held themselves between the rest of the Sagahl and the pack of gedan, their lances pointed forward.

Bayarmaa’s disposition also changed, her hands flew to her bow and arrows to take aim and fire. Once Esenaij quickly got himself freed from the wain’s harness, he also collected his bow and arrows, providing supporting shots from a distance. Though the confrontation with the gedan took more time than they cared for, two were slain, and another two were injured before the remaining gedan ran off to seek easier prey elsewhere.

None of the Sagahl seemed particularly pleased about what transpired, though they paid respects for the beastkin they slayed. Nomin, on the other hand, had been far more hopeful that perhaps there could have been an exception to their ways. Her mouth watered for meat, though it was not meant to be. So, she practiced in paying respects, at least, for the fallen gedan who were now returned to Nhaama’s embrace.

Even though the Sagahl were not particularly pleased about the situation, each of them took on a job of bleeding, gutting, skinning, and butchering the two gedan they fell. Just about everything was collected, anything considered refuse being left to the sand. Hide, bones, meat, fat, sinew… Everything considered useful was prepared and packed away carefully in ways that Nomin never even considered until that moment!

“I'm sorry if that was my fault…” Nomin started when she helped Esenaij with cleaning the bones. She felt guilty, and went on into the why of it. “The Tumet taught some of the khüüked before our trials that if we were to see our trial at all, we needed to avoid the wildlife of the Steppe because small auri like me are more appealing to them as prey…”

Despite Esenaij’s sour disposition on most occasions, he gave a long, resigned sigh. Setting the bones aside in a burlap sack, he looked down at her. “It was not your fault, Nomin. This part of the Retreat is gedan territory, so it will not be uncommon to find them roaming about. Besides, it was not as if you went out of your way to find them and cause trouble. Small groups like that often grow desperate for food, as they cannot often hunt for larger prey with such few numbers.”

Esenaij’s words were gentler than normal, and Nomin’s tail flicked upwards slightly and tentatively as she looked up at him. A small smile graced her lips before she went back to help clean more of the bones that were left over from Daritai butchering the meat. The two of them carried on with idle conversation here and there, Nomin’s curiosities being answered about why they were expending so much effort in preparing the gedan remains if the Sagahl do not partake in eating or using the pieces of beastkin.

“Just because it's our way of life doesn't mean we should let it go to waste when it could benefit someone else who's way of life is different from our own,” Esenaij explained. “The Dotharl won the Naadam, and while our gift to them will surely be appreciated, their way of life here in the desert often revolves around their oasis. Finding food out in the desert is hard enough, they will likely appreciate the added meat once it's delivered.”

“And keeping it packed in that crate with ice crystals will help it stay fresh while we travel?” Nomin asked, glancing back toward Daritai and Keuken working on getting more of the meat cut, cleaned, and wrapped in parchment before packing it away.

“The temperatures the ice crystals will keep the meat at will prevent it from spoiling, yes…” Esenaij replied. He looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to think of any examples that Nomin could know. Finally, as he tied up the bag of bones, he said: “if you've ever encountered snow, perhaps the Tumet have dug holes in it to help preserve meat or even milk? The ice crystals essentially do the same thing without the need for such a heavy winter.”

Nodding along, Nomin hummed in thought at the information she had just received and reached for her waterskin to help wash her hands now that they were done. Though more time was spent getting the gedan remains situated and put away, Nomin watched with intense curiosity as even the hides were stored along with the ice crystals. When she asked about that, she was told that none of them had any materials to even start a tanning process, and that would have to be left to the Dotharl to take care of once delivered.

In the rest of their travels across the desert of Nhaama’s Retreat to the Dotharl Khaa, Nomin kept an eye out for anything that could have attacked them. Gedan, manzasiri, anala…anything that Esenaij and Bayarmaa had told her about, and everything that she learned about when she actually traveled alongside the Tumet as one of their children. What also helped were the recollections and information that Barghujin, Keuken, and Daritai were willing to impart as well in order to help keep Nomin aware.

It was fortuitous that they met with little else on the venture to the Dotharl’s oasis. Of course, when they met with the Dotharl guards, they had stopped them, their words terse and abrasive before Esenaij said that he and the others were here to deliver the tribe a gift. Noting the deeper blue colors of the Sagahl, as well as being shown the bounties of grain and fruit, the Dotharli guards soon relented and allowed the group through.

“Nomin, do you want to explore the oasis while Esenaij and the others make the delivery?” Bayarmaa asked, walking over to Nomin.

“Can I?” Nomin chirped eagerly in question, a smile growing on her face. She eagerly hopped out of the wain and looked around. She had already been quite taken with the sights of the oasis, but the idea of getting to walk around enticed her. She already noted that the ger that were weathered and worn, their blues fading from their time in the sun, day after day.

“Since we're welcome here, we can walk around as long as we don't cause trouble. You should go ahead and walk around as well; get your legs stretched after sitting so long in the wain most of our journey,” Bayarmaa said.

Walking over to Bayarmaa, Nomin elected to take up holding her hand for the time being. She knew that when the Tumet spoke of the Dotharl, they often had few nice things to say. Honestly, that recollection made Nomin just a little nervous about meandering around the oasis, even with Bayarmaa’s reassurance.

The two of them traveled the oasis together, Nomin peeking around curiously before the sound of a baby crying made her pause, tail stiffening as she looked toward the sound. Normally, Nomin would have just ignored it, but when she saw the cluster of Dotharli people at one of the open-faced structures, she pointed it out to Bayarmaa. Especially after seeing Sadu at the center point of them, a swaddled baby held before her by the winner of the year's Naadam, Maa.

“What are they doing?” Nomin asked Bayarmaa, turning her head to look up at the elder Xaela.

“It's somewhat of a naming ceremony, I suppose you could call it…” Bayarmaa started in response, bringing a finger to her chin as she thought over her words.

“Like how I would have gotten a name from my parents if I went back to the Tumet after my trial?”

Bayarmaa paused at the question before she frowned slightly, contemplating how to answer Nomin. She tugged on Nomin’s hand lightly to start walking toward the group. “Um…perhaps? Though, surely a lot more different. Why don’t we get closer to watch?”

Nomin followed along with Bayarmaa, feeling at least somewhat comforted by her presence as they neared. Nomin witnessed Sadu take the crying babe into her hands, surprisingly delicately as she hushed and rocked it to quiet it down. Once the wails had died down and ceased, Nomin watched as the baby gurgled and reached up, clutching some of Sadu's white locks as it giggled.

“Sadu Khatun, please tell me whose soul has entered the babe born from my wife?” Maa asked Sadu, getting down on his knees and bowing in respect to her.

Sadu herself, even while holding the swaddled babe, stood tall and proud. Her features were set with that same kind of air as she brought a finger down to stroke the infant’s cheek. Nomin watched as Sadu’s expression became more focused, her eyes staring down into those of the babe’s. Her brow furrowed, and soon, Sadu handed the baby back to Maa with a grin.

“This child bears the soul of Dhunan! The brave warrior who brought down several Oronir, Buduga, and Chaghan to see you, Maa, take hold of the ovoo! We will sing to this child praise of what he did during the Naadam, and how he would always put the other Dotharli before himself with the power of seventy manzasiri!” Sadu proclaimed proudly and with conviction. She took up her staff and rammed the butt of it into the ground, her free hand resting upon her hip. “Even in his past lives, Dhunan displayed great feats of strength! In this life, we shall ensure he grows strong, telling him of how his past lives trained and trained!”

The hair on the back of Nomin’s scalp and neck stood on end once the crowd of Dotharl started cheering, chanting the name of the baby with glee and mirth. She staggered back a bit before hiding somewhat behind Bayarmaa. Her tail wiggled stiffly with surprise at the raucous cheering. That was a little bit overwhelming in terms of excitement -- especially around such ruthless fighters during the Naadam.

“... I want to go back to the wain…” Nomin said, staying behind Bayarmaa before looking up at her.

“Is something wrong?” Bayarmaa asked, looking at Nomin curiously.

Nomin shook her head and pursed her lips, her hold tightening upon Bayarmaa’s hand momentarily. She then huffed lightly and said, “...It’s loud here.”

Bayarmaa offered a sheepish smile before turning and leading the way back; “very well. Come on, then. We’ll await Esenaij and the others once we find where they’re at.”

Following along after Bayarmaa, Nomin glanced over her shoulder at the cheering Dotharl at the khatun's seat before looking back ahead of her. While they walked, Nomin inquired about the Dotharl's naming and why it seemed like everyone had any kind of name, her examples being that both Sadu and Maa seemed to have names that would be more fit for the opposite gender. Bayarmaa only chuckled in response and did her best to explain how she felt was best.

“It's actually really no different than if someone were to have named their babe Nergüi, I feel…” Bayarmaa started. “In that the meaning is to mislead bad spirits. As such, it's actually not uncommon for parents to give names that would typically be associated with us to babes that are male when brought into the world.”

Nomin hummed in thought, her gaze going to the ground as they walked.She thought back to the naming ceremonies she had previously been witness to when children who freed themselves eventually returned to the Tumet Iloh for their pre-Naadam migration. Recalling some of what she heard and saw, she finally spoke, “the Tumet don't name us as babes, though. The names given to those deemed worthy at the naming ceremonies are usually given by the khan or khatun. Sometimes the parents.”

“Oh…” Bayarmaa frowned, realizing that perhaps more gendered names were what Nomin found herself used to if that was how naming went among the Tumet. “I can see your confusion, then.  When it comes to the Dotharl, their souls have no prejudice to the babes they come back to within the tribe, so you get a lot of members that have names that may be confusing on a surface level because Sadu kahtun sees the soul within the babe and declares their previous life who now inhabits it.

“But it's really nothing to worry about overall. You chose your name, after all.” Bayarmaa gave Nomin a grin. “Nothing would stop Esenaij nor I from changing our names to something we preferred. I guess you could say that if I did that, I would be choosing a name worthy of me. Just like you chose a name worthy of you, hm?”

Nomin's brow rose, and her mouth fell slightly agape at the idea. “I didn't think about it like that. I guess you're right! Just as I am worthy, I chose a name worthy of me! It could have been a boy's name, too, if I wanted!”

The two of them made it back to the wain where they were greeted by Barghujin and Keuken. There was also another boy there who donned the light blue deel of Dotharli youth standing with them, a ripened plum in his hands that he seemed to have been nibbling on. Nomin’s gaze lingered on the boy for a moment, her tail curling inquisitively as she looked from him back up at Barghujin and Keuken.

“There you two are!” Keuken greeted both Nomin and Bayarmaa. “Esenaij and Daritai are close to done, I imagine, with their audience with the Dotharl elder. They���ve already brought in the gedan remains that we got for them to distribute later. I think last I heard, they’re discussing some of the collection methods of gathering some of the herbs and fruits that grow within the desert.”

Bayarmaa let go of Nomin’s hand and then placed a hand on her back, ushering her forward.

“Go wait in the wain for a bit. They might need me to help with some stuff once Esenaij is done.” Bayarmaa’s attention then went to both Barghujin and Keuken. She then approached the other two Sagahl to talk to them while Nomin tentatively approached the wain, her attention having gone back to the unknown Dotharli boy.

The Dotharli boy was basking in the shade of the cover that was used for the wain, his own attention falling upon Nomin as she approached.

“Hello,” the boy spoke, making Nomin freeze for a moment, her tail flicking with added hesitation. Her actions and uncertain expression made the boy laugh rather heartily before he apologized: “S-sorry! I don’t mean to laugh…”

The boy then composed himself, donning a pleasant expression and asking: “are you here with Mister Esenaij and the other Sagahl? I-I mean, I guess that’s a silly question since you’re wearing the Sagahl colors. Just…Mister Esenaij sometimes makes deliveries to the other tribes for trade. He’s given me some dawn plums before. I’ve seen the others before, but I’ve never seen you or your sister before.”

Nomin gave the boy a quizzical look, tilting her head slightly. She neared the wain, walking under the shade herself and soon leaning against it. Every now and then, Nomin glanced at the boy, wondering who he was and why he opted to approach the Sagahl van when it seemed other Dotharl were more interested in their own doings rather than greeting them. He was a couple ilms taller than she was, his horns taking shape into becoming horns that curved outward and then forward.

Though Nomin thought over her questions, she felt too shy to speak up right away. Especially since she was still uncertain about whether or not she should speak with the Dotharl freely after stories she had heard from the Tumet. However, she did think to herself that having more friends her age would have been nice -- even if they were part of different tribes. It would have been fun to meet them again, whether in Reunion or elsewhere.

And so the two children stood in silence for a long time.

The pleasant look on the boy’s face faded into worry as he nibbled further on his plum. Nomin could really only rock back and forth on her feet, her back bumping against the wooden railing of the wain. Neither of them were really sure what to do or say for the most part. When the boy made no effort to move away, however, Nomin let out a silent sigh through her nose.

“I’m Arik,” the boy finally said, introducing himself.

Silence hung in the air again for a time.

“My name is Nomin…” Nomin slowly introduced herself in kind. She turned her head to look at him again, noting more of his features. Given how it seemed this Arik was not particularly shy about approaching the wain nor the other Sagahl members, Nomin then asked: “does…does Esenaij come here often?”

“Sure! The Dotharl don’t often venture too far from the oasis to go to Reunion. Even then, the Dotharl, er, we don’t have too much use for some of the trinkets and things there when we can trade the Uyagir for arrowheads and ore, and the oasis being here means hunting is generally pretty easy for people like my mother.” Arik seemed pleased enough to explain how the Dotharl were pretty well supplied overall.

Arik then turned the partially eaten plum in his hands before taking another bite. After he swallowed, he continued after a momentary pause, “...we don’t get a lot of things that are grown from the earth around here, though. Not like any fruit in abundance, or grains that we can turn into bread.”

Nomin’s brow twitched with bemusement at Arik’s way of wording things and placing emphasis on addressing the Dotharl on their own versus including himself among them with ‘we.’

“Are you not Dotharl?” Nomin asked, dropping her voice to a whisper. The question made Arik look at her in surprise. However, he started shaking his head in answer.

“N-no. I mean. I am! Just…when the khan -- the Sadu before the one we have now -- looked into my eyes, he said that he saw no one he recognized. The Dotharli woman who gave birth to me…she told me stories of a Noykin horse master who was best friends with her husband…my father. His name was Arik, and he had died in the midst of a terrible anala attack,” Arik shuddered, leaving some details unspoken. “My mother told me that my previous incarnation could tame any horse if given only a handful of days -- and nearly any creature.”

“That’s pretty amazing…” Nomin breathed, genuinely thinking the brief bits that were told to her were interesting and enthralling. Even if she did not know of the Noykin herself, she was still captivated by the idea of reincarnation now that she was speaking to one of the Dotharl herself. “So…you’re a reincarnated Noykin? How did that happen that you are now of the Dotharl? When Bayarmaa was explaining it to me, she said that the Dotharl souls come back into Dotharl babes. How do souls from not-Dotharl come into the babes?”

Arik shrugged, his face twisting in some confusion over it himself. After a moment’s consideration, he finally said to her, “my mother tells me that sometimes friends of the Dotharl -- those who have given their lives for the lives of Dotharl -- are invited to our tribe through death. That must be what happened to my previous life. I died in my last life and was invited to the Dotharl…which is probably why I never feel too welcome in their celebrations.”

“I kind of know what that feels like,” Nomin replied, the mutual understanding of feeling like an outsider to their own tribe formulating that start of a bond. She looked at Arik and told him: “I actually come from the Tumet tribe. I passed my trial, but…I didn’t want to go back. I never really felt like I could get used to the Tumet traditions. It’s why Mister Esenaij and Miss Bayarmaa now take care of me! Esenaij took me in shortly after I arrived at Reunion.”

Arik offered Nomin a small smile at her story, more because he felt somewhat reassured by her words. Then he looked confused, as if he realized something.

“Wait, if you’re from the Tumet…did you get a name from them, or from the Sagahl?” Arik asked. “And that woman…she’s your sister, right? Is she also originally from the Tumet? She has markings like you do…”

“I named myself!” Nomin replied cheerfully and without hesitation. “And…that’s just Miss Bayarmaa. She has markings like me, but she’s Esenaij’s sister. I guess she’s my sister now, too, though.”

“Huh…” Arik’s expression softened at that. “I never considered that you could name yourself… Do the Tumet usually let you do that? Or…I guess…”

Nomin shook her head emphatically. She told Arik about the naming ways that the Tumet normally employed as she crawled into the back of the wain to get herself situated a little more comfortably. The more that Nomin spoke with Arik as the other Sagahl got the goods from their wain given to the Dotharl elder, the more she found herself happily talking about all kinds of things with him. From what he knew of the Noykin, to what Nomin often found herself enjoying now that she was part of the Sagahl.

During their conversations, Nomin told Arik how she ended up naming herself, recalling the trial of the Tumet and how she always kind of liked the blue markings on her scales. How they and her general appearance were the inspiration for just calling herself how she saw herself: lapis. She admitted it could have been more creative, but that the name ‘Nomin’ always just felt right as soon as it entered her mind.

Their conversations went on as the wain was progressively emptied of its contents. Arik finished his plum long before they were addressed by Bayarmaa, who greeted them both with a pleasant expression on her face.

“I’m glad the two of you seem to be making fast friends,” Bayarmaa said as she neared them. She looked from Arik to Nomin. “We’ll be staying the night within the care of the Dotharl, Nomin. I know you complain sometimes about not being able to eat meat since coming to us from the Tumet.”

Bayarmaa then dropped her voice to a whisper.

“But, if you keep it to yourself, I’ll let it slide that you eat some tonight with the meals that will be cooked tonight,” Bayarmaa said. “I can’t expect you to adopt the Sagahl diet immediately if you were used to meat with the Tumet for ten years. Just work your way to it. If you can, try to eat less meat than you normally would. I’d rather you ease yourself into our diet than pick it up immediately and end up resenting it.”

“So we’ll get to hang out for another day?” Arik excitedly asked, his mouth cracking into a wide smile.

“Mhm~” Bayarmaa hummed in response. She then focused her attention on Arik. “Well, maybe not a whole day, but at least for a good few bells.”

Bayarmaa glanced back at Nomin before speaking again to Arik; “thank you for keeping Nomin company. She’s slowly been making friends with the Sagahl, but it’s really nice that it seems she’s taken such a shine to you…Arik, was it? Esenaij mentioned your name when I asked about you.”

Arik’s smile became pursed for a moment as he looked down at the sparse grass underneath him in a bashful manner.

“It was fun, Miss Bayarmaa. I’m glad that she got to come with the Sagahl this time around,” Arik shyly replied.

Thinking on how Esenaij was typically more prepared to go and get himself out in an early fashion, Nomin brought her hands up to the leather cord around her neck. She slipped the necklace off that held the decorative copper piece in it. Though she stared at it for a long moment, Nomin really did feel a deep kinship with Arik and how their experiences within their tribes -- former or current -- made them feel.

“Just in case Mister Esenaij wants to leave right away in the morning, here!” Nomin said, thrusting her hand out and offering Arik the copper pendant that Bayarmaa had fixed up for her during their travel from the Sagahl Iloh to the Dotharl Khaa.

“What is it?” Arik asked as he tentatively reached out to accept the necklace.

“Remember what I said about my trial?”

“Yeah…but…what does that have to do with this necklace?” Arik looked down at the copper pendant as the rest of the leather cord and its bits and bobs pooled into the palm of his hand. His expression fell into bemusement as he looked over the item.

“Miss Baryamaa helped turn the copper piece I used to cut myself free into a necklace! I want you to have it. It’ll be like a promise that we’ll meet again one day!” Nomin explained, grinning. She looked back at Bayarmaa after mentioning her, looking to see what her reaction was. When Nomin saw that Bayarmaa had that familiar, gentle smile on her face, Nomin beamed as she looked back at Arik. “When we meet again, you can give it back. Or…maybe you can just keep it.”

“‘Keep it’?” Arik parroted back, his face twisting into further confusion. “Isn’t it important to you? Something that you used to free yourself with that you wanted to keep?”

“Well, yeah. If you want to keep it, you can. If not, just keep it until we meet again!” Nomin said. Puffing out her chest with a sense of accomplishment, she smiled proudly. “Since you know how important it is, I expect you to take good care of it!”

An amused scoff fell from Arik’s lips before he slipped the cord around his neck. The necklace was loose still, even around his neck as he looked down at the copper piece in the palm of his hand again. “Alright. It’s a promise then.”

[faragonart]

Come The Naadam.

Ft @pali-himbo's Vatii and @on-burdened-wings's Nylah

[sephira-illustration]

Smol Sadu, please give her some love c:

[starryscale-art]

jhai of the kagon

set around the 92-93 endwalker MSQ

[frey-draws]

femhroth brainroth, the actual fan favorite stormblood character and my friend krile :) (krile's hood makes her look so much taller despite being technically the shortest of the bunch lmao)

[misswarrioroflight]

a cute ship of my WOL and her first love Haurchefant

He's giving her a scarf and a pin to keep it on as she dragoon jumps around (shes awful with the cold)

[swiftcast-selene]

baby tsetse fresh from one of his first few hunts! he's about 15 here, two years before the accident that sheared off his horn.

i wanted a mix of grown-up and baby dotharli clothes here to symbolize how he was kind of at a transitional age at this point in his life, so he's in a mix of the big fluffy coats the children of the tribe wear, but paired with the dark blue top and skirt the adults are usually in. he's very bitter about it! he's a grown man now, he doesn't need his comfy clothes anymore! (he does. he's very cold.) since neither of his parents were around, i like to think the rest of the tribe would take turns helping him with his hunting paint, as well as giving him each little pieces of beading to adorn him as a way to include him :)

[nyteklovn]

Comm done for Salkhii on FFXIV!

[ponyartistbrainiac]

I have been practicing drawing humanoids so have a picture of my WOL missing her two favorite boys, Her husband Aymeric and Estinien someday I will write her story out. probably just for myself. I am not sure anyone would be super interested in that her name is Xirtelt Dotharl

[avampyone]

For the endless skies-

[ksilberne]

Dotharli Blood

[paintedscales]

021.1 Arik

Born to the Dotharl, but having the soul of a Noykin welcomed into the tribe, Arik has often questioned himself and where he belonged. After all, it never felt as if he belonged among the Dotharl themselves. With his mother's blessing, he travels to the Noykin Iloh, where he hopes to find out more about his past life.

Word Count: 3,006

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

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“Today’s the day, mother. I’ll be traveling from the Dotharl Khaa to meet with the Noykin,” said a teen boy. He had a traveling pack slung over his shoulder, and a small smile on his face as he addressed the now smaller woman before him. They both donned a deep blue color to their garments -- the color of Dotharl.

“‘Tis only right, my son. There are only so many stories I could tell you about the Arik that came before, and little more you could learn from the others around…” the woman replied.

There was a sad smile on his mother’s face. Arik knew it all too well; it was the look she wore when she could not well tell him stories befitting the Arik of Noykin to help nurture him into the Arik he was meant to be. He could barely fault her for the lack of stories that she had. Had his father not passed away only a couple summers after Arik’s birth, he was sure that there would have been more stories that could have been shared.

Before Arik could leave the ger, his mother walked forward and straightened out his deel, smoothing out wrinkles and looking him over. A sigh left her nose, and she hesitated before looking back up at him and reaffirming a smile upon her face. Reaching up, she gently took his cheek in her hand, having to tiptoe to do so.

“To think that only a few summers ago, you barely came up to my shoulders…” Arik’s mother said, her tone laced with sentimentality before she went flat on her feet and withdrew her hand. “Travel the lands in safety, my son. Even if we may not fear death because we are yet born again, I would wish you to make it to the Noykin Iloh without hazard. And should you meet your current iteration’s end, know that I shall be ever ready to meet you again.”

The corner of Arik’s mouth twitched upward somewhat. His mother had always shown a level of kindness toward him when others of the Dotharl had not. It was surprising given what he had been told of his mother and her past lives. How fearless of a warrior she was that met her enemies head on, spear in hand. To think that she was such a considerate and gentle mother to him…well, it had always been appreciated.

“Don’t worry too much, mother…” Arik adjusted his pack, letting it rest on his shoulder before he walked over and plucked his spear from where it leaned against the wall of the ger. Motioning slightly to it, he continued: “I have father with me, after all.”

Arik’s father had been an unfortunate soul that had not returned to the Dotharl. With frequent combat that saw their tribe numbers dwindling, his father’s soul had no vessel to return to the year that he died. It was a loss that they had to grieve in their own way before continuing life and moving ever onward.

“Of course… I shall see you whenever the sun rises.”

“Whenever the sun rises, then.”

It had been a term of endearment. ‘When the sun rises.’ To say as such meant that the world was dark until they were to see each other once again. Arik kept the meaning in his heart.

“Oh!” Arik’s mother remembered something, and it halted him from exiting the ger. She approached him again, pulling out a leather cord from a pouch at her hip, a copper shard affixed to it. The shard had been dulled and slightly oxidized in time, tint in some patches upon it that bore a slight green tint to them. “You asked me to make it into a necklace. Did you want to wear it on your journey?”

Looking down at the pendant, Arik nodded and leaned down. His mother walked forward and carefully slipped the cord around him. Once the pendant hung around his neck, Arik stood back up, glancing down for a moment before looking back at his mother.

“Thank you, mother…” Arik looked down, seeing the copper piece hanging there before taking it and slipping it underneath his clothing. “I’ll keep it safe.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The journey to the Noykin Iloh had taken nearly a moon to learn where they were and actually make it to them. His arrival was met with some trepidation from the other members of the tribe, and understandably so. However, Arik had done his best to explain to them that he was not there to incite violence and express that he wanted to learn the ways of the Noykin.

It was only the fact that Arik had come to the iloh alone that allowed the other Noykin to breathe more easily around him. However, many of them were still reluctant to approach him as he ventured through their current home. Even as he attempted friendly conversation, there were those that had shied or recoiled from him, much to his disappointment.

“If you’re truly here to learn, I suppose I can help you…” eventually said a woman who approached him without that same hesitance or trepidation. Her hair reminded Arik of the color of butter, and her eyes, he noticed, were black and gold. She must have been no older than Arik himself.

“Nhaama blesses me, then. My thanks,” Arik replied, breathing that sigh of relief that had nestled within his chest.

“I would advise against thanking me yet,” the woman said. “Our ways are not so easily obtained. If you have a mind to learn, then you must have a mind to endure.”

She looked over Arik, scrutinizing him momentarily.

“Being of Dotharl, I expect that the latter should be no obstacle?”

Arik’s mouth pursed into a line. He looked out toward the corrals that were abundant around the Noykin Iloh before looking back at the woman. Slowly, he nodded and gave her his response: “the Dotharl and their ways certainly make tests of endurance less of a daunting task. Whatever you might have for me to do, I shall do my best to meet it head on.”

“Very well. My name is Mide,” the woman introduced herself with a slight bow. “I know not of the journey you had to get here, so I shall not make you work right away. Come. We shall make for my ger. I imagine we can discuss your goal there.”

“A-Arik…” Arik quickly said to introduce himself, as Mide had already turned heel to start her stride toward the aforementioned ger. He adjusted his pack and fell into step behind her after jogging to catch up. He cast his gaze about the rest of the iloh while he followed after her, taking in the sights and sounds. Horses whinnying in the background, the sounds of hoofbeats and whistles, the occasional snort…the way the Noykin lived must have been on par with the Goro from what he knew.

The smell, too…the air was thick with the fresh smells of cut grass, and even the dry scents of hay and alfalfa. They mixed in tandem with the repugnance of manure; something he would have to grow to tolerate for the time being if he were to learn anything from them. At least it had not been too terrible, all things considered.

They approached a ger that had been on the far side of the iloh from where Arik had arrived. There were two others there that waved at Mide, though had reason to pause when they saw that Arik was with her. Though Mide had halfheartedly waved in response, she glanced over at Arik before opening the door to the ger and allowing him to enter -- though not before she motioned for his spear to be put aside.

Obliging to this, Arik removed his spear from his person, allowing it to rest against some nearby fencing. Soon, he stepped over the threshold into the ger and mustered up a “hold the dogs…” request. A customary thing even if there were no dogs around. Looking for a seat, Arik had sat down where one was available, and waited patiently.

Mide soon entered and closed the door behind her, walking past Arik and preparing something to drink. All the while, she asked, “I trust that you are here because the Dotharl believe one of our own is reincarnated into you.”

“Mm…” Arik gave a slight nod, though quickly gave a verbal response since Mide’s back was turned to him. “That would be the way of it, yes. Sadu khan, he…before we have the Sadu khatun we have today, I was proclaimed a babe that had an unknown soul. As I grew up, my father before he was felled in combat spoke of his friend. A member of the Noykin named, well, Arik. How he had given his life to save my father’s at the time.”

“So you believe that coming here would reveal something? Give you insight as to who you are?” Mide pressed, bringing back a cup of fresh mare’s milk for him to drink.

Accepting it with zero hesitation whilst nodding in response, Arik had taken a sip out of respect at first. He had not realized how thirsty he had been till he had been drinking it down greedily. Holding the cup in his lap, he tapped a finger against it in thought. Sighing, he finally replied, “I suppose that would be accurate, yes. I don’t imagine there would be anyone around that could share the Arik of Noykin’s stories with me, are there?”

Mide brought a hand to her chin, cupping it in thought.

“I couldn’t say… If you are here to learn our ways, I can teach you that. If you want to meet someone that may have known your…previous life…” Mide paused. It was common enough when speaking with those that were outside of the Dotharl’s customs and beliefs that Arik merely only noticed, though neglected to comment. “It may behoove you to speak with the elders. My mother or father might be able to answer any inquiries that you have if they’ve ever known Arik.”

"Anything would be great!" Arik said, not realizing how eager he sounded.

“Right…” Mide drew her hands together and closed her eyes. “My parents are away in Reunion for some time, unfortunately. But…I could direct you toward our khatun, Yesui. She has led the Noykin for well over forty summers, and has guided us well in that time. If anyone would have known about your past life, it would be her.”

“I would very much like to meet her… I-If that is alright…”

“I shall see if I can request an audience with her. In the meantime, we shall see if you can make yourself useful here.” Mide got up from her seat and went to a woven basket to withdraw some rope. Making her way back toward Arik she handed it off to him. “First things first… I have horses to quarantine so that they can be fed medicinal feed. During this time, we shall also brush them down to get more used to being around us and handled.”

Taking up the rope, Arik slowly stood and nodded to show that he acknowledged what she had to say.

“Err…very well. The Dotharl don’t really have much in the way of caring for horses…” Arik mentioned. “So I am grateful for you going out of your way to hear me out and teach me. And I do apologize for anything I might accidentally mess up.”

“You will be granted my patience. To an extent.”

“Noted. I will do my best.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nearly a week had passed, and Arik had done everything that he could to adhere to Mide’s instruction. He fed horses, led them to new corrals, cleaned and filled their troughs with fresh water, he even began to learn riding them and the basics of. What the best part of all of it was, was the fact that it all just felt so natural. Like he had made a routine of all of these things and more even before he had actually gotten a chance to first do them.

In the time he had been familiarizing himself with the Noykin and their customs, he had learned a myriad of things about them. How they migrated, how they came across their horses, where they migrated in order to harvest the best feed, and much more. It had all been fascinating enough to keep his attention.

And then finally, Arik was granted his audience with Yesui khatun.

Accepting the invitation into the ger where Yesui resided, Arik had done his best to be as respectful as he could manage. He had prepared a gift in the interim -- a wood carving that he had worked on whittling away between tasks seen to with Mide. As he approached her with a bow, he offered to her the carving of a horse.

“Such craftsmanship! You have my thanks for this gift,” Yesui said, a smile spreading on her face. Her eyes crinkled with genuine warmth as she beheld the gift and got up to set it upon a dresser within the abode. She then took a seat once more and looked over Arik.

“Now…” Yesui straightened her posture and then relaxed into the back of her seat. “I have heard that you have questions regarding one of our own that passed some time ago. Come closer, child.”

Arik hesitated momentarily, but eventually approached Yesui once she motioned for him to come to her.

“Closer.”

Leaning in, Arik found himself feeling nervous, though allowed for the khatun to look deeply into his eyes. He saw her searching him for something -- anything. Almost as if…

“Bah…” Yesui breathed, waving Arik away. He backed off, hiding his relief before the khatun continued. “I know not how the Dotharl are able to see the souls of those who have come back. But…if you say that you are the incarnation of the Arik from ten and seven summers ago, I have only some stories that may be of worth to your journey.”

Perking up with an uncontrollable smile, Arik’s tail reflected his elation at this news as it curled up slightly. Tempering himself, he took a breath and huffed silently before collecting himself.

“Any stories you have to share would be beyond wonderful and appreciated, Yesui khatun,” Arik replied, offering her a small bow of gratitude. “My mother was never able to tell me much, and my father passed before he could regale me with too many tales. All I know of the Arik of Noykin was his impressive ability to break a horse within the span of three days and his friendship forged with my father. Beyond that…nothing.”

Nodding and humming in thought, Yesui closed her eyes and grew pensive. Drawing her hands together, she laced her fingers and rested them in her lap.

“He had taught the children of the Noykin happily in our ways to prepare them to tame horses that we might have our own and have them to trade,” Yesui started. She opened her eyes, smiling with a distant look in her eye as she recalled what she could. “Though it was rather often he would venture out on his own -- a lust to see more, he would claim.”

Arik subconsciously leaned in, wanting to drink more of the information that was being given to him. He could feel some sort of connection with those words. There were times he had ventured away from the Dotharl Khaa, if only because he wanted time away from the others…but discovering new things had always been something that made him feel…fulfilled in a way.

“While it is true his claim to have broken horses within mere days, he had always been gentle with them. A rare kind of ‘Whisperer’ is what others would often call him. Among our tribe, a Whisperer of such would only show up once every few generations,” Yesui went on. She had a knowing smile on her face. Perhaps she spoke from experience? What even was the requirement for becoming khan or khatun among the Noykin?

“I…did feel a kind of sense of tranquility when getting to handle and take care of the horses. I thought perhaps it was because Mide had done such a good job at showing me what to do, not to mention showed me kindness that it felt like others would not…” Arik admitted, thinking about some of the shying away that the other Noykin did when he first arrived. “Would…I be able to live up to that, I wonder?”

“Only one way to find out, child.”

“I suppose that is true…” Arik folded his arms over his chest, thinking. “Is there…a kind of trial I could take?”

Yesui laughed lightly. “I’m glad you are thinking ahead, child. I was going to task you with something of the sort. It would be best for Mide to go with you, but I shall be sending two others with you for this. You see, there is this beautiful horse that has been roaming the Ceol Aen as of late -- coat white with dapples of orange. Wild Sun is what we have come to call him with his unruly nature. If you can catch and tame him, he will not only be yours, but you will have earned your place among the Noykin.”

Those last words struck Arik deeply -- more than he realized they would. Looking at Yesui with a sense of curious wonderment, he pursed his lips and nodded before finding a smile spread on his face. Breathing in deeply, he reaffirmed his stance and replied, “then I shall go out and see to this trial you would give me. I…I thank you for what you have been able to share with me -- a-and I would be elated to hear more if you have more to share!”

Yesui chuckled, tilting her head in Arik’s direction.

“See to the trial, child. Should you succeed in the task before you, I will tell you more.”

[sunderedazem]

𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕕𝕠 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕, 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕝

[tsuz1ma]

just love this woman ❤

[keicordelle]

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Mixed Race Housing

Living in the Scion's dorms was... hard. Keshet had never felt his otherness quite as much as when he moved in with his comrades. They were all understanding, and they certainly did their best, but Keshet could never quite shake the knowledge that he was different. Both in terms of upbringing, and of anatomy.

Most people, when they bunked with roommates or in communal lodging, had to worry about things like their housemates snoring or eating their food. Keshet... well, the accommodations to his living space were a little bit more drastic than those of your average hyur.

The low ceilings he had learned to live with, for the most part. He still sometimes smacked his head when entering a doorway, but most buildings across Eorzea were not built for someone of his height, and he'd grown more or less accustomed to ducking. He shared plenty of long-suffering looks with the Boulder brothers, but ultimately, there was relatively little he could do to keep from whacking his head besides just remembering to stoop. Though the brain cells he lost every time he forgot made it harder and harder with each passing day, or so he liked to claim.

And he did like being able to help out the others. Sometimes, when Tataru was baking, he'd sit in the kitchen with her and fetch whatever she needed from the upper cupboards, because the only person who struggled more with the geography of the Rising Stones was her. She'd feed him all the best of her creations in exchange, and he always got first dibs at mealtime - though by then he was often so stuffed full of stolen mouthfuls that he could barely eat the meal he'd helped prepare.

The biggest issue, though, came when it was time to bed down. The snoring he could live with - he was used to sleeping in a camp full of people, with only thin fabric walls to divide them (if that). And he’d grown sufficiently used to sleeping indoors that the inability to see the sky didn't bother him as much as it used to, though he still preferred to sleep outside whenever he could get away with it. The problem was that he slept with a bunch of people from frigid Sharlayan, and that meant he froze his damned tail off every time he lay down to sleep.

Back on the Steppe, he was used to dozing in the blazing sun, sprawled out on a hot rock and basking in the heat, just like a real lizard. Trying to sleep here, with only the blankets of his self-made nest to warm him, was like trying to sleep half-submerged in a river: not bloody comfortable. But it was a shared space and he was keenly aware that he was the odd man out in that regard, so he kept his complaints to himself and tried to soak up as much sun as he could during the day.

He should have known his friends better than that.

"What's this?" The glowing red lamp towering beside his nest of blankets commanded Keshet's attention as soon as he stepped foot into the dorm, scattering all thoughts of the day's training exercises to the wind. Tataru beamed at him from across the room, hands on her hips and that cunning glint in her eyes that always made him just a little bit nervous. It seemed that this time, though, it had been turned in his favor.

Thancred bumped him jovially with his shoulder, urging him forwards. "You don't think we didn't notice how uncomfortable you are sleeping here, did you? Friends pay attention to that sort of thing."

The heat that radiated from the lamp became obvious as Keshet stepped towards it, nervousness turning to incredulity as he drew near. "Is this..."

"A heat lamp," Urianger supplied for him, scratching bashfully at his head. "We thought it might provide thee some comfort."

"He means that we asked around in the Firmament to find out what the dragons use to keep warm, and Marcelloix suggested this," Alisaie said. "A lizard's a lizard, no matter its scales, right?"

Keshet was too distracted by the warmth that radiated from the lamp to offer more than a half-hearted, "Right," in response. Nhaama, it was so warm. The heat soaked into his scales and eased the tension in his muscles. Gods, he just wanted to... well, that was the point, wasn't it?

He curled up in front of it, uncaring for the half-hidden smirks of his audience as he curled his tail over his thigh and turned his face towards the glow. Less than a minute later, the quiet sound of snoring drifted from the contented Au Ra. Tataru grinned, waving the others away. "Looks like it was worth the effort."

(By the time she returned to head to bed herself, she found G'raha and Y'shtola curled up in front of the heater as well, the three of them cuddled into a comfortable pile before it. Maybe they'd have to get a few more heaters to go around.)

-

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[imadetoe]

FF14 Cheesed by xanroth