Welcome to Gaia! ::

Hours after Araceli found herself back in her childhood home, she was restless. The day was still early, not yet fading into evening, and she had much on her mind. After a small talk with her parents, she decided to take a walk — to help clear her mind. So much had happened over the years that it took to get to this point. Her skills were now considered that of a master — her many years of experience, though she was still young, were evident in the way she carried herself. Her abilities had grown even before Detreaus had been part of her life. After, though, she only got stronger.

They had both taught each other so many things as they grew closer. Aracel still remembered the first time they’d met and couldn’t help but give a small snort of laughter at the memory. He had shot arrows into the ground in front of her and had probably had to hold himself back from killing her. Had you asked her then if she could see herself mated to him, with a family, she would have called you crazy. Now, though, she couldn’t even dream of a different life.

Araceli would never forget just how tough that journey had been, though. Breaking down Detra’s walls had been the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life but the end result had been completely worth it. One of the memories that shoved itself to the front of her mind was when she’d found out she was pregnant with twins.

Ara laid a hand over her stomach as she walked through the city, eyes tearing up slightly. She had been both so excited and scared. She had not known just how Detra would take the news. Ara had fought tooth and nail to get him to the point he’d been at. The last thing she had expected was to get pregnant. And that unknown aspect of how he would react had frightened her.

Now her nest was empty, their children grown and finally out on their own. It pained her a little, to think of not seeing her children every day — of not knowing how Ataya might be doing that day and not seeing him for gods only knew how long. Akra, at least, would be close by and they would be able to visit her. Her baby boy, though, was gone and out there on his own. She could only send up silent prayers that he would be alright in his journies.

Lost in her thoughts as she was, Araceli finally found herself smack dab in the middle of the market place in the Celestial City. The crowd, while substantial enough, was not nearly as large as the ones on Eowyn around this time. She glanced around, eyeing all the beautiful fabrics and trinkets that laid out on various stands. Her stomach rumbled when she caught sight of a food stand and what looked to be shish kabobs of sheron meat and some kind of cheeses. Her mouth watered as she caved and bought a few of the kabobs and something sweet to was her food down.

As she traveled through the market, eating and browsing, Ara found herself coming upon a small building that advertised tattoos. As she finished off her last kabob Ara stepped forward, into the small, private place. She had, briefly, entertained the idea of getting a few tattoos in the past. However, the opportunity to do so had never really been present when said thoughts were in the forefront of her mind. Now, however, the opportunity was staring her in the face and, with ideas already in her head of what she wanted, there was nothing holding her back from getting them. Just as she opened her mouth to speak up, a small firani dovaa woman stepped out from the back and greeted her. The first thing that Ara noticed was the many tattoos that covered the woman’s body — from a simple star to a complex dragon peeking out from under her sleeve. Ara found her staring and tore her gaze away from the woman and apologized.

The laughter that bubbled up from the woman’s throat was warm and infectious, causing Ara’s lips to curl up into a small smile. “Do not be sorry. If I did not want others to look at them, I would not have them. Come, sit and we’ll discuss what you want.”

Ara relaxed, moving forward and settled down into the chair the dovaa had indicated. After a brief discussion, it was decided that she would get three tattoos, grouped together, that represented Detra and her two children. Ara watched as the woman prepped the skin of her wrist, cleaning it and bringing the tools needed over to the work station. She clenched her eyes shut at the first p***k of pain as the woman started on the tattoo that would represent Ara.

After a few, brief, clenches of her teeth, Ara forced her eyes open. An arrow. It was the perfect object to represent her mate. It had been how they’d met, after all. The corner of her lips twitched up into a small smirk. And it was how he lived his life. His bow and arrow was a part of him and she remembered all the times he had rescued her with them, fought in the pit with them and hunted with them. He had other weapons — she’d been amazed at the mount of weapons one person could carry on himself — but his bow and arrow were an extension of himself.

Before long the arrows was finished and the woman was wiping away the small trickles of blood and extra ink that flowed down her wrist and hand. It wasn’t much, but enough to make a mess if left unattended.

The next tattoo was the one to represent her daughter. A simple wave, positioned above the arrow and towards the tip. Her daughter’s love of water had indicated, early on, what her clan choice would be. There had never been a doubt in her mind that she’d end up on the path of a peisio.

Finally, last but not least, Ataya. A small snowflake to the side of the wave and towards the end of the arrow. Her boy — oh how she wished she could keep him safe and at home for the rest of his life. He had been through so many trials in life and would likely go through many more. He had chosen aiskala as his path and, while it had been unexpected, Ara could not have been more proud of her son.

Ara listened to the woman’s instructions on how to care for the tattoos as they healed. She wrapped her wrist in clean, sterile bandages and, after receiving payment, sent Ara on her way. Outside of the shop she paused and held up her wrist. Her fingers grazed lightly over the bandages as she remember a point in her life where she had come dangerously close to losing her small family. Callum was almost always a very, very distant thought in her mind and wasn’t something she thought of much anymore. Now, however, as she reflected back on her past, she couldn’t help but remember when he had stolen her from her home. When Ara had woken up, she’d been terrified — pregnant and tied to a pole in the middle of the desert. She remembered the knife dangerously close to her distended belly and the fear that at any second he might plunge the blade into her stomach. Ara shuddered, clenching her eyes shut, briefly, against the agony those memories brought forth.

Detraeus and her father had saved her that night, though, and had ended Callum’s life. She didn’t feel sorry for him. He had deserved everything that Detra had done to him (though she was still unsure of the exact details of what happened and intended to keep it that way). She shuddered, forcing herself to open her eyes and move forward. The man had been a mistake and she was forever grateful for the times that Detra had intervened. She was fully convinced that, had he and Casseth not been there that day at the pit, she would not be in this world anymore. Callum had been cruel and crazy.

With a heavy sigh, Araceli headed back to her parent’s house. Had it not been for her appointment with Marcus Ysaride in a couple of days, she would already be planning her journey back to her mate and back to his arms. A day away from him was too much, already, and now she would need to remain a day more than she intended. Apparently the only time Marcus could see her was then. The extended stay was not welcomed but Ara new that it was better to stay and get it done that to leave and come back another time. As she stepped into her parents’ house, Ara gave a small smile as she glanced down to her wrist and went off in search of her mother to show the tattoos off.