Fury Of Nations - Chapter Four

Fury of Nations - Chapter Four

Previous Chapter: 3

Chapter One: 1

Next Chapter: 5

Chapter 4

“For Fijar’s sake, Dilan!” I turned to see Talyn yelling at Dilan again. The two of them really needed to be able to train together sometimes, but every time I left them unattended, Talyn ended up yelling at Dilan for something or other. 

“I cannot work with you, you are a dreadful fighter.” He continued. Dilan didn’t respond, he just stood there staring at Talyn as if he could see into his soul. I’d been on the receiving end of one of those stares and it was genuinely unsettling. Talyn stood glaring at Dilan and I hoped he’d give it up for a minute, but instead he just continued to berate him. I sighed and left Ta’eel to walk over.

“Stop it, both of you!” I commanded when I reached them. Dilan looked at me with a startled expression and Talyn turned his glare on me, but didn’t say anything,

“Talyn, Dilan is not a dreadful fighter, he is a good fighter. He just does not meet your expectations because they are excessively high. Dilan,” I turned to face him, “You really need to stop just staring at people when they pick a fight with you. It only makes them angrier and unless you are staring down a… a Hidalni or something, you are not menacing enough to keep them from messing with you further.” I stared down at the both of them disapprovingly. 

“Why do not you both take a break. Ta’eel?” I called over my shoulder at the Tashikan who I had now seen fight first hand, “why do not you train Dilan when he is ready? Talyn, how are your long-range skills?” I asked. He gave me a look.

“How do you think? Top marks, just like close-range combat.”

“Perfect, then you can teach me how to better my aim in throwing knives and axes when you are done with your break. If Shinael is back, you can teach the both of us, or maybe I will send them in to train with Ta’eel and Dilan, we will see what they are up to.” Talyn nodded and walked over to go get water.

“Dilan? I said it before, but you really do have to get the staring under control. Everyone communicates in different ways, but there are some ways that just are not good.” He nodded at me and sighed.

“I know. It’s been a problem my whole life. I don’t really know what else to do though.” I paused, wondering if an offer from me would be too strange.

“Maybe… If you want to sometime, I can teach you some basics? I am not a master communicator myself, but I can give you pointers on some of the more obvious things you do.” He smiled at me and nodded.

“Sure. At this point, I think anything’ll help.” He laughed and wandered over to get some water. Ta’eel bumped my elbow with hers and winked at me as she passed. Other cultures non-verbal communications will always be a mystery. Was it simply a playful wink that meant ‘hello my friend’, or was she teasing me about something? I hadn’t studied Tashikan body language yet, but maybe I should do that tonight. I had another trip to the library scheduled tonight so I could return some of the books I’d borrowed. Perhaps I’d bring Dilan with me. He did mention something about mythology books. I’d be interested to hear his favorite myths and perhaps start with those. 

I sighed as Ta’eel gave me a smile I could tell was forced for the umpteenth time. Since Kishan and Talyn had left to practice at the ranges, Ta’eel had been training me. She was so much more patient than Talyn was, but I just wasn’t getting it like I knew she wanted me to. She paused and looked up at the sky.

“It’s getting late and most people have left. If you want to continue we can, but I don’t know that more training right now is going to help. You’re good, but I can tell you’re frustrated now and training while angry doesn’t help you learn.” I nodded and she made is if to walk away but then paused, blinked a few times, and then continued towards the weapons rack to put her borrowed sword away. I narrowed my eyes at her slightly, trying to discern what that might have been. I have the ability to see what I call ‘aura’s’. They tell me a lot about a person, including their race, sense of purpose in life, gender, and current emotion. However, Ta’eel’s aura was strange. Her emotions, which are usually arranged in categories at a person’s head, shoulders and stomach, seemed all mixed up. Sometimes happiness would show in her head, then her left shoulder. Sometimes anger and happiness might show in the exact same place. On top of that her aura was a strange color that I hadn’t seen before. Tashikan auras were usually a teal/cyan color, depending on their sense of purpose in life. But Ta’eel’s was mostly black, with occasional swirls of dark blue. In moments like that, where she seemed slightly out of focus, the blue swirls would overwhelm the black for a flash of a moment before retreating entirely for a little. I didn’t know what it meant, but to be honest, it scared me a little. Kishan and Talyn walked towards us, evidently of the same mind as we were.

“Time to go start a campfire, the sky’s getting dark. Shinael showed up a little while ago, but they were tired from specialized training, so I sent them back to camp to rest.” Kishan said. Ta’eel and Kishan ascended the stairs chatting about various things while Talyn packed up his personal weapons. I hesitated for a moment, wanting to say something, but I didn’t know what I should say. After a second or two, I headed up the stairs too. I was about halfway up when Talyn shouldered past me, but then shook his head and stumbled back, nearly falling.

“Talyn? Are you alright?” I asked, worried he might have tripped. He looked wildly alarmed and stared at me blankly before shaking his head again and shoving my shoulder aside.

“I’m fine.” He growled. He didn’t seem ‘fine’ to me, but I knew better than to contradict him. I’d tell Kishan about it later and they could talk to him about it. A worry flickered in the back of my mind. An old memory about a boy I liked when I was much younger. The first and last time he kissed me, he had gotten a glimpse of my power. That was the last time he talked to me. Had that happened with Talyn just now, did his hand brush mine as he walked past me? Most people weren’t able to see what I did just by touching me and I didn’t understand why some could. I pushed that aside for now, I couldn’t afford to worry about that too. I walked up the stairs and caught up with Kishan and Ta’eel. Walking to the cabin circle, Talyn had apparently shut himself in his cabin already, having speed walked back and Shinael had a fire going.

‘__ __ alright?’ Shinael asked. I only recognized the last sign they made and I let Kishan answer, assuming Shinael was inquiring about Talyn. Kishan and Shinael talked in sign for a little before Ta’eel settled down by the fire and kicked her feet up on what would have been Talyn’s chair.

“Does anyone want to go get food for the lot of us? I can if no one else wants to, or we can all serve ourselves, either way works for me.” She said. Shinael offered to go get some food for us and they came back with five plates.

“I am to go give Talyn his food. Although acting strange, Talyn needs food.” They said over their shoulder as they walked away. I’d been startled the first time I heard them speak. They were only a little shorter than Talyn, and however slimly built, I still wasn’t expecting a soft, high pitched voice from them. Apparently all Vishali had higher pitched voices, and most were soft spoken whenever they chose to speak out loud, but it still felt a little strange. 

“Alright. If he attacks you, yell for help. No point in trying to save an ego.” Ta’eel joked. Shinael didn’t respond and I sat back and watched the fire as I ate. Eventually, Kishan stood up, explaining that they were going to the library to return a few books. There was an odd pause before they left where it seemed as if they wanted to say something, but they didn’t. I let myself watch them walk away, shame and disappointment glimmering in the section at their right shoulder.

It's so hard to pick just one oc, but I think the most developed in the way of backstory is my immortal.

Her name is Ta'eel, which was given to her when she showed up on some woman's doorstep in a country called Tashik when she looked about four years old. (She was, in fact, like 700, but anyway) Fun fact: Ta'eel in the old language of the gods translates to Lost (Ta'e) Little (the addition of the second e) Girl (gender is determined by the letter at the end, in this case, an L meaning female). She was illegally born in an Island country called Matanal and as a result, the government killed her parents and tried to kill her. At the last moment, her mother called out to the Goddess who created the country, Mother Matanal (sometimes just, The Mother) that her baby girl would "never die by mortal hand or natural cause". The wish was granted and Ta'eel didn't die, and her aging was drastically slowed down, her body aging one year for every 500 years that passed. She was two and a half years old at the time. After the woman in Tashik died, Ta'eel wandered about, far too old for how she looked. She inspired a crap ton of myths, the general consensus of was that a child may show up on your doorstep one night. If you take her in and raise her for however long she stays, you get good luck for a very long time. However, the myth started to turn dark and she eventually became a reason for people to lock their doors at night. When she looked to be in her teen years (around 14 and 15), she had now fully understood what she was and hated it. She went mad and her mind slipped into the realm of Madness, Oblivion (called Livonas at the time). There, she met the god of death and madness, also named Oblivion, though some called him Kinan (translating to Death God) to avoid attracting his attention. He promised to just kill her already if she would give him her body. See, since a god becomes their domain, and Oblivion came by his death powers mildly unconventionally by killing the old god of death and taking her powers and making her transfer her realm to a random mortal to avoid giving it to him so his body couldn't adapt to them. He was slowly decomposing, and his body was becoming useless to him. She agreed, but instead of killing her, he just possessed her and made her go on a killing spree, which inspired another myth about a mysterious figure that attacked travelers on the road at night. She eventually got her mind under control but didn't know how to kick him out. She faded into the recesses of history, terrified of killing anyone else. Between then and the start of my book, she got engaged a few times and married once. Her wife, Ryukel was a Tashikan woman who ran a tea shop. About two years into their marriage, they adopted a son. However, when the revolution started (kind of like Jesus' birth in their world, no one special was born, but the gods got killed abandoned the humans and everything kinda got chaotic. The years are referred to as ___ A.R. and ___ B.R., meaning before and after revolution) her wife died in the fighting and she gave her son up to family friends, knowing she couldn't raise him on her own because of her immortality, she'd never visibly age in his lifetime. She came back to him when he was on his death bed to say goodbye, but it broke his poor mind to see her again, the exact same as she was before. It nearly drove her into Oblivion again, seeing her beloved son like that, so she vowed that she'd never fall in love and/or have children again. During the course of the book, she has to walk this fine line between being vague enough that questions don't arise, and she has to reveal who she really is (an immortal Matanalan), but specific enough that people don't get suspicious about why she's being so vague. It's been so fun to write, I love this character so much

making up oc lore: fuck yes a little guy just for me

writing down oc lore: what the fuck

Fury of Nations - Chapter Three

Previous Chapter: 2

Chapter One: 1

Next Chapter: 4

Chapter 3

Since leaving Vishal, I’d had my fair share of what my parents called “culture shock”. But when I got to the war camp, it was somehow worse. Yes, two of the four other squad mates used Hand Signs with me, and there were other Vishali, but it felt weirdly alienating to have everyone else communicating in one way, and then communicating with me in an entirely other way. It felt like I was being left out, even though I could understand Tsaballan pretty well, and could technically speak whenever I wanted. On top of that, some of the other Vishali were… well, full of themselves. They refused to speak out loud at all, and were almost hostile to those of us who did choose to speak aloud at times. It was made even worse by the fact that one of my squad mates made it clear that he hated me simply for being Vishali. The highlight of my day was visiting the cooks. There seemed to be a strange camaraderie among the cooks that I hadn’t seen in other places. People of all different races shared stories as they made food in a hot kitchen.

“Ah, Shinael! Have you come back to steal a bite of food before dinner?” A Hidalni cook asked, winking at me.

‘Who, me? I would never! I just want to make sure the food will satisfy my picky squadmates.’ I signed back, barely remembering that a smile is how you express a joke. Another cook touched my arm to get my attention, I turned to see an Alanaean who had arrived a few weeks before I did. 

‘You taste? Tell how good it is?’ She asked in broken hand sign. I nodded and let her lead me over to a pot where she spooned a thick sludge into a bowl and handed it to me.

‘M-O-N-D-Y-L S-T-E-W’ She signed. I showed her the sign for stew and she nodded.

‘M-O-N-D-Y-L Stew. Alanae cooking.’ I lifted the bowl and ate some, letting it sit in my mouth for a moment to take in the flavor. I thinned my lips at her.

‘It’s very good! What is the spice you used?’ We talked for a while more about the ingredients, many of them native to the northern countries. I left her to her stew and wandered through the kitchen again until I found Coit, a Vishali cook I knew from back home. 

‘Hello Shinael. Have you considered my offer?’ They asked. 

‘I appreciate it, Coit, I do. But my place is with Squadron 13. I can alter a meal to make it taste better, but I am no special cook. I best serve as a spy.’ Coit nodded

‘I understand. Just know that we will always welcome you should you choose to join the cooks. We’re always in need of a taste tester.’ I nodded and we sat in silence for a moment.

‘My shift is nearly done. Maybe you can help me with this last batch of Jrenish and then we can wander around and find something to do?’ They asked. I accepted and walked over to the ovens with them where they pulled out a pot of what I assumed was Jrenish. 

Wandering around turned out to be a very good idea. Though I’d been here for at least three days now, I hadn’t had the opportunity to explore. Coit had been here a few weeks before I had, so they’d been around a few times. They informed me on some of the things I hadn’t been keeping up on. People regularly get mail from people back home, but no one tells you, you just have to go check at the kiosk next to the front gate. There’s a small train station a little to the south that takes you to and from the nearest town, Tsashen, but it’s a little expensive. As we walked, Coit waved at several people, mostly Vishali spies I trained with and other cooks I’d seen around. 

‘You’ve really made a lot of friends here.’ I commented. They thinned their lips at me

‘Yeah. It’s strange how much a war like this brings people together. Especially people in specific communities, like the cooks and’ they stopped signing to gesture to those training in the pit as we passed, ‘believe it or not, the soldiers.’ It was after training time, so anyone training at this point did so because they wanted to, not because their schedule demanded it. I thought back to Talyn and how, though he wasn’t really nice, he was more respectful towards Ta’eel and Kishan than to others. Kishan, because they’re squad captain, Ta’eel because she proved herself to him in beating him in a fight the first day they arrived. 

‘I think I can believe that. Even in Vishal, little communities were always pretty tight. I had a few friends who never missed a meeting in their respective clubs. I guess it would make sense for that to extend to other cultures too.’ Coit nodded and then looked at me with a strange expression.

‘You know…’ they paused and stopped walking to look around at the cabins on this side of the camp, ‘other races aren’t that much different from us. Each person is an individual with their own capabilities and aspirations. Just because one is Fijari and one is Vishali doesn’t mean they can’t get along, nor does it mean they’re so different from each other.’ They nodded at Talyn who was talking with Fijari twins and their Tsaballan Squad Captain I’d previously met. Talyn never really expressed joy that I saw, but he looked as close to happy as I’d seen him so far, sitting around their campfire speaking in Fijari which the Tsaballan had apparently learned some of. Coit knew of my complaints, specifically those about Talyn.

‘But what if… the Fijari doesn’t see it that way?’ I asked. Coit shrugged.

‘Then that is their problem. If the Vishali wants to put in the effort, they might try reaching the Fijari in a way the Fijari will respond to and work from there.’ Coit thinned their lips slyly at me.

‘Inter-race communication can be difficult when you’re raised to believe it is. But no culture is too different to find common ground between individuals.’ They left me there, still considering their words before I even realized they were gone.

FUCK.

I just finished Good Omens season two, and it's showing up on my Tumblr.

Crying was not on my agenda today but HERE WE ARE

Though I'm not aro (thought I was for a while, and I love the aro community), I am ace and this is a similar experience that we have. I'm not in a situation like this, but it took me a long time to stop being terrified that I would lose everyone I loved because of my ace identity. I still am sometimes. I grew up being pushed and prodded into the idea that one day, I was going to marry a nice Mormon boy, settle down, and have kids. It didn't click for a while that, since I didn't want that, there were very likely many others who also didn't want that. As I said, I'm still sometimes afraid that I have to make aro and ace friends because no one else will value our friendship like I will. Because the idea that was baked into my brain since birth that anyone who feels romantic/sexual love will value their partner over everyone else (except their kids) is still making it's way out of my brain. I think it's really important to recognize that marriage, or any kind of relationship doesn't lock you out of loving your platonic relationships just as much as a romantic and/or sexual partner and that entering a relationship like that isn't the end for you or your friends.

i live with two friends who will soon be married, and the three of us intend to eventually buy a house together. when i discussed this with her, my mother said to me, "are they ever going to want their own place?"

and it's a fair question, right? the "normal" thing for a married couple to do is to establish a nuclear family unit, apart from other family and friends. and her instinct is to look out for me, and make sure i am not walking into financial agreements that are untenable.

but that's the tendency allo people, particularly cishet people, have: their first thought is always, aren't they going to get rid of you? won't they leave you? won't everyone?

and they don't see the hurt it causes. because it's what they'd do, so what?

that's the subtle manifestation of arophobia. if your worth is defined by your romantic prospects, then you're worthless on your own. someone else will always come first, surely. you're lacking in some universal truth, and everyone can see it. marriage is forever and divorce equals failure and friendship, well, it isn’t something you ought to negotiate.

and why wouldn't we have talked about it?

it's times like these when i cling to the phrase (subject to change). there is no permanent state of the self, no guarantees that life will go one way or another, no use in striving for permanence in a world that's constantly changing faster and faster every day. i won't make myself smaller, couch-surf through people's lives living out of an emotional suitcase, just because they may leave me one day. and why should i? forever is (subject to change).

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