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 Posted: Thu Dec 05, 2013 9:42 am
Wishes Answered, And Doubled
 
Two beautiful lotuses had grown upon the lowest branch where Yaholo had been praying the night before. The colors they had upon their petals were unique, signifying that they were the answers to a fervent prayer and not from any other cause. Their father crept close to them, caressed their petals, and smiled. His. They were his.
He tended to them gently, as if he were afraid to stir his children from their slumber, despite the fact that he had no way of knowing if they could even feel his presence to begin with. While he fussed over them, he noticed a small root lying underneath their petals, connecting the pair from underneath. It was a strong root for it's size, a sign of a constant flow of energy between them.
"I think you're going to be very close, aren't you two?" He remarked, chuckling. "I can't wait to meet you, my little blessings..."
Word count: 154
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Posted: Tue Dec 17, 2013 11:10 pm
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Posted: Mon Dec 23, 2013 12:14 am
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Posted: Tue Dec 24, 2013 11:33 am
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Posted: Thu Dec 26, 2013 8:00 am
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Posted: Thu Dec 26, 2013 7:32 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 12:05 am
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Posted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 12:07 am
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Posted: Sun Jan 26, 2014 10:10 pm
Open Letters
It wasn't often that Yaholo felt he should write anything more than his thoughts or a memo to get or do something later on in the day, but today's thoughts brought about an atypical change in what was considered usual. Today, he would be writing a series of letters, to leave where ever he felt was important. He set out his charcoal and paper before him, his eyes deep in thought, before he began the first letter.
"Hey, how are you? It's me, just checking in. I heard you got in trouble, Rastian told me, he's sort of an idiot though. Heh, you might call him a hero, for helping you, if his accounts are right. He got sick while racing to tell me and got trapped here in the forests while he recovered. Make sure that you see a Healer each time you get injured here or in Tale, Crystal Rot is deadly and you could catch it really easily if you don't heal yourself quickly..."
He paused, placing that paper by his side, before writing a second one.
"Just me, again, you'll find a lot more of these, maybe. I hope you're doing alright where you are. Do you have shelter? Enough food? Are you lonely? Are you alone? It's good to have some company in the forests, you know. Don't keep yourself too far from a town, it'll help you in the long run, I swear!"
The next few letters were written after the first two, each with the same sort of message. Are you safe? Are you alone? Where are you? Until the final letter was drawn.
"Dear 'Lixes,
I've been pretty miserable without you, that I will admit, but never out loud. This is the only way I can seem to scream out to you, despite the chance that you may never reply. But, what other options do I have, I don't know how to reach you. This is my only chance, my only way, and I hope, by Aisha's grace, that this somehow reaches you, someway. Be it the wind or the wings of a Kinfa, or just by random chance, I pray that this has reached you.
First, I'll update you on the current affairs, starting with... Well, two blessings. I went across the isles, love, to plea to my Great Mother for a child in my likeness. I was given far more than I ever expected, two wonderful little boys who I can't imagine my life without. They can be challenging, espescially the younger of the pair, but they have brought me closer to completing my goals in life. I have but one thing left to grasp, and that one thing, well... Is you.
You might be shocked at just how stubborn I can be, and honestly, I can't say I disagree. But, I am in love, and I can't convince myself to stray away. From your hair to you feet, from the way you walk to the way you speak, I just can't find one thing about you that makes me want to turn away. The worries you have only make me want to protect you and to add to your defense, not curl away and hide. I know you don't want me to be "in this" with you, as much as it frustrates me, but you should at least know what I can offer to you.
I can offer you sanctuary, I can offer you hope. I can offer you love, safety, and help. You would have a family to fall back on, a place to be when you need one, you wouldn't need to run away anymore. Ah, but, I've offered these before, haven't I? I still remember the face you made when you fell in the stream, you were so cute, and I just wanted to keep you with me forever. You denied these things then, out of fear of harm to me or my family, and fled without taking the time to really listen to me. Or, maybe you had, I haven't been sure since then, actually. That kiss you gave me... I still don't know if it was goodbye forever or just goodbye.
As you can see, I still ramble, on and on and on and on, don't I? Straying from point to point, scattering my thoughts like stones along a beaten path. I've sometimes wondered if that was why you left, did I not seem competent enough? Sure, I was young and a little more than daft, but I knew how I felt. You gave me a rush, and you still do, whenever I think about you. I miss you when I look out towards the beach, just when the sun is going down, changing the sky's colors to hues that remind me of your hair. It's often in these moments that I feel the most weak and ask myself the worst questions. But don't you worry, I'm not easily beaten. That stupid swordsman got lucky in the tournament, but I've beaten his head in for revenge already. Now I can move on.
There I go again, moving further from the point. I suppose I should just get right to it, shouldn't I?
I love you. I haven't stopped loving you. Rastian thinks I'm out of my mind, but he knows nothing about love. You are the missing piece to the puzzle, the one that I've lost somewhere out there, and I don't think I'll be whole without you. Sure, I'll survive without you, but survival doesn't equal happiness. You should know that all to well, right? You're just surviving, too. Couldn't we make the most of the time we have left in this world together instead of just rolling with the punches separately?
I'll always be here for you. Just drop me a line and let me know.
Love, always,
Yaho"
He rose early the next morning, before the boys woke, and went through his usual route. The notes were tacked to trees, left upon animals, and scattered along all sorts of pathways. But, the largest letter, the last one, was placed in a central location where many main pathways intersected. He nailed it in carefully and stood back to observe it. Hopefully, somehow, Oulixes would get these messages. Once he was certain that the note would withstand the elements to his standard, he turned for home. Today was the day he was going to be taking his sons to stay with Pahana in Yera while he went off to fight in the war. Everything was all coming to a head at once, and he could only hope that fate was on his side through all of it.
Word count: 1115
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Posted: Sat Feb 15, 2014 10:43 pm
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Posted: Tue Feb 25, 2014 12:32 am
Something Old, Nothing New
The night after arriving in Yera was a breath of fresh air for Yaholo. Everything was as it had always been, from the trees to the people, all the way down to the way the buildings leaned. His favored space, the one where he and his buddies chatted over when they were young, still stood strong as well, untouched by the wind and the weather by a cluster of trees. It was a meager fire pit covered in dirt and remnants of food, but to Yaholo, it was the perfect hide away.
It was too bad that Minal and Tayyib were busy, he would have liked to share this space with them one last time. But Tay had his lessons and Minal had his siblings to ferry about, they were without the time for unwinding. They were without the time for the past, which was, in all honesty, okay with him. Still, as he drew his fingers across the ash laden sand, his eyes distant and away, he wished that they could be here today. Was it selfish to want his best friends here, with him, instead of where they needed to be? He hadn't seen them in years, hadn't heard their laughs, seen their smiles, or watched them play-fight. He missed those years, despite the pain he had endured with them. His childhood had been complicated, but with them, it had been fine.
He let out a sigh and began to light a fire. If no one was here to share in this space with him, he might as well enjoy it for himself. He gathered brush, twigs, and assorted other things and placed them in the center of the pit, before clacking two rocks together to ignite the flames.
Clack-clack, clack-clack, clack-clack...
Something made him pause, as if awoken from a dream. Wasn't this how he always felt in Yera? Rushed, forced, sad, lonely. Nothing had changed, and it never would, so why was he trying so hard to make it work? He still felt rigid and uncomfortable here, despite the fondness of the memories. He had tried this before, like a broken record, to feel the warmth he had felt as a child. When he was small, when things were simple, where war was a grain of sand upon the desert, and everyone got along easily. He felt his back arching, his teeth clenching, and he tossed the rocks aside.
He would leave in two days, once things were sorted out with his father and everyone else in the village. Then, he would be back to the comfort of the rain forest, where he felt he was best suited. Yera might have been where he was raised, but he was born from a Lotus of Aisha upon the Chibale Isles, and that was where he belonged.
Word count: 470
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Posted: Tue Feb 25, 2014 12:33 am
Half Of An Heirloom
When morning came, Yaholo was the first to wake. The boys had gone off for a day of market combing with their aunt, Minal and Tayyib were both busy and prepared with the usual excuses, which left Yaholo with his father for the day. He found himself chuckling, as he made breakfast for the both of them, that he had been the first to rise. When he was younger, his father would jump into the room and wake him with a start, always bright and early as well. But, today, the tables had turned, much to the Massif's delight.
"Food time, old man!" He called, clanging a pot. "You've over slept, you'll be late for hunting practice!"
The Ranger rose from his bed quickly and brushed the hair from his face, before grinning towards his son. He bounded out into the kitchen and pulled Yaholo into a hug, laughing all the while.
"Ah, I'm glad you woke me!" He said. "I've got something very important to give you before you leave for home!"
He left Yaholo's side, pausing to briefly examine the food that his son had made, before racing down the hall again. Assorted noises could be heard, such as bangs and clangs, until finally, he came racing back with a small box.
"Come here, come here!" He commanded, waving the taller man over.
Yaholo placed his utensils upon the counter and wandered over to Cusick's side. What was he so fussed about? He peered curiously at the box his father had brought in and only became further bemused when a necklace was gently pulled out. It was an odd necklace, made up of various tassels, beads, and leather string, all which held an arrow head in place at the bottom. Something about it felt old and well loved, though he couldn't quite place it. However, as he leaned out to question his father about it, his father had already slipped it over his head and around his neck.
"...What is this, dad?" He asked, examining the marks upon the arrow head. "It's so... Uh..."
"Colorful? Yeah, I know." Cusick chuckled, adjusting the chain so that it would go underneath Yaholo's hair. "But these colors are very significant, Yaho. They were my father's favorite colors."
He gently took the arrow head from Yaholo's hand and into his own, giving it a loving look, before setting it against Yaholo's chest. He turned his gaze to the food on the table, sighed, and looked up to Yaholo with pride in his eyes.
"No matter where you go, we will always be with you." He said, placing his hands on Yaholo's shoulders. "This necklace was made as a set of several similar necklaces for our family. The arrow upon the end belong to my father, Ahanu, a beloved Ranger from this village. After my mother burnt our house down, leaving my brother and I orphans, despite no having a body to prove my father's death, a cluster of arrows was all we had left to his name."
His gaze became more serious as he spoke.
"I want you to wear this necklace, even as you live among your sisters." He said. "Carry my father's memory, as well as the memories of all of us here in Yera, wherever the wind may take you. It would be an honor to not only us, but to my father as well."
Yaholo's gaze echoed his father's as he spoke, and he found himself fiddling with the arrow head. It was an heirloom, an honor... He grinned.
"Of course, I will wear this necklace with pride!" He exclaimed, wrapping his father in a hug. The stayed locked in this position, holding each other close, for quite a while, before Yaholo began to laugh.
"Hey! I just spent an hour making breakfast!" He said, flailing towards the food. "Let's eat before it gets cold!"
Word count: 648
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 10:27 pm
A Final Transformation
They would be marching off to war in less than a day, he had been told upon arriving home, his mother throwing her arms around him. Tahigwa stood in the corner of the hut, her foot tapping nervously, while Nyah sat beside a bowl of berries not too far from the sitting room. A sense of calm among those of nervousness, a teeter-totter of feelings that the Massif himself could relate to. He ushered the boys into their room and gave each a kiss, before exiting to gather his mother, aunt, and sisters together in the next room.
He had them sit with him, allowing Nyah to take her usual perch upon his knee, and wiped the berry juice from her mouth. But, through his laughter and cheer, a seriousness remained in his body language. His mother watched him curiously and leaned forward from time to time, as if she were trying to see him more clearly. Soon, his aunt followed in this motion, then Tahigwa, before Nyah herself was intrigued by his unusual stiffness, and he let out a quiet sigh. His hands rose to ruffle his hair, flailing it all around his shoulders, and another sigh was made. The faces of the women before him grew further intrigued, and they leaned in closer, and closer, until they were right in front of him, scanning him for clues. He pursed his lips, took a deep breath, and faced his mother with a serious expression.
"I think it's time to drop these Earthling locks for something..." He paused, gazing to the faces in front of him. "More suitable for a warrior of my breeding... Don't you think?"
It wasn't even a second later that his mother and sister were squealing with glee at what he had said. He was going to dread his hair and fully display his faith in Aisha and his tribe! The women practically clamored all around him, kissing his cheeks, snuggling up to him, and racing around to grab what they would need to accomplish the job. They would need oil, hair fasteners, and a billion combs to fashion his hair into something that Aisha herself could be proud of. Nyah grabbed all the beads and feathers she could find, his mother raced off to get oil and combs from her friend's house, and Tahigwa set quickly to parting Yaholo's hair into the proper sections with her favorite brush. The Massif's back stiffened slightly at the sudden movement and braiding, but soon settled into position once everything had been placed. He felt each bead being placed in with every strand that was twisted and curled, and took deep breaths to keep himself calm.
This was an honorable thing to do. He was reaffirming his faith in his tribe. He wasn't making a sacrifice, he was gaining something far greater. So what if he couldn't run his fingers through his hair anymore? This would be a great change, a good change, an upgrade. He would be seen far more highly once this was done.
He closed his eyes tight as his mother came hobbling back into the room. Her praises were comforting while she applied the oil to his hair, and her laughter at the mess she was making helped ease his nerves. He smiled as she did her work, humming along as her hands ran through his hair, twisting and curling, brushing and tugging. It hurt a few times, mostly when she tugged or pulled a strand just a little too tightly against his scalp, but overall, it felt like a massage for his head. He thought of the motions she was using as she kneaded the oil through each separate strand and felt relaxed. Perhaps he could fall asleep for a little while and let her do her work, it wasn't like he was needed for anything at the moment, right?
Of course, as he felt himself drifting off, he was nudged out of his dreamlike state. Questions about styles and placements and possible dyes were presented like riddles to which he could only gesture and flail an answer to. He wanted his hair to be tied up, but in a low pony tail, one that he could toss over his shoulder if he wanted to. Bangs were an absolute must, he loved having them, and he wanted them there even if they would be hotter than usual. And there would be no way in hell that hair dye would touch his hair. He was proud of his hair color and he wasn't going to change it. Each time he answered a question or said yes to something, it was done quickly and eagerly, and it made him wonder just how long they had waited for him to ask them to do this. The thought of them just standing around, pondering how long until they could dread his hair, was slightly unsettling. Didn't they have better things to worry about?
It was more than two hours later that he was finally allowed to see his mother's hard work. He gazed into the mirror and raised a hand to run it over the top of of his hair. Surprisingly, his hair was still as soft as it had been before, a realization that made him smile. The style was just as he had wanted it to be, tied up low, loose, and manageable. He lowered to mirror to the table, turned towards his mother, aunt, and sisters, and grinned.
"Thank you, I finally look exactly how I've always wanted to be." He said, grasping them all in a big hug. His hug was reciprocated, about six times more, and they continued to chat. They would be leaving in the morning, bright and early, and would hopefully greet Pahana about half-way to the tents. He sighed and leaned his hand on the side of his face, a quick smile forming on his features. His hair didn't fall in his eyes anymore, yet another perk!
Word count: 997
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 2:13 pm
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Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 4:56 pm
Hero's End
The war was over, at least for the time being, and it seemed as though everyone would be capable of rebuilding whatever remained of their lives. Viveka and the others were stable, Rastian was healing fairly well with the help of Senja, who seemed to be his girlfriend judging by how they acted with each other, and his family was resting well within the huts close by. Everyone was a little crowded here in Neued, a shifter settlement which called the south of Jauhar home, but it seemed that everyone was willing to trade their creature comforts in for the sake of the safety of the entire group, which was as good as it was unexpected. The residents of the village had come quickly to greet them and get others situated amongst the chaos of the exodus, and a sense of calm was steadily being restored, if only slight.
Yaholo had planned to lay himself out under the trees as soon as he felt he was able and play with his boys. However, as boys do, both had decided to wander away and play with those they had met during the time he had been gone, and the Massif could only sigh and smile as he let them go. They were already growing up on him, no longer as content to ride on their daddy's shoulders and race through the trees as they had been before, and a part of him felt that it was truly okay. They would do as he did, grow, learn, meet all sorts of interesting people, and leave home for adventures before he knew it. His dad had to watch him go every day and wait patiently for him to return, and he would be doing the same things, too. It was all a part of being a parent, learning when to let them go.
He settled on a sunny spot around the corner from a local store where a woman was standing at ready to help whoever came by. He gave her a smile and a gentle shake of his head, to which she returned a smile and a nod of confirmation. He didn't need anything from her, he was fine, just some peace for the time being. He continued along his way and set his things down in his chosen corner, sighing as he adjusted his position to accommodate his back. The tree limb from before had smashed his side pretty damn well and caused a large, black bruise to appear vertically against his skin, so sitting comfortably had become a challenge. However, once he was situated properly, he was able to close his eyes and relax.
"Aaah, I see you've found the best spot here, young warrior."
The Massif tilted his head upwards to gaze at the elderly Shifter who had joined him, and gave him a smile. He looked quite well for his age, with his big bushy beard and full figured stature, and echoed Yaholo's smile as he came to rest beside him. The man left his staff beside Yaholo's hammer as he situated himself against the very tree Yaholo had chosen, and let out a sigh.
"My goodness, the level of people here, I haven't been this tired since..." The man scratched his chin a moment, a pensive look crossing his features, before chuckling. "Well, since that explosion a mile south a few months back!" He turned his head to face Yaholo, wide eyed. "A swordsman died saving one of our own from some bandits, if I've heard correctly! Such a shame, to be cut down in your prime so cruelly..."
Yaholo had listened to the story calmly up until the mentioning of the swordsman who had died. He turned his head sharply and gave the man a stare, his heart beginning to race. ...Please... Please...
"...His name wasn't..." He paused, biting his lip. "...Oulixes, was it? The swordsman who died."
The elderly man seemed shocked at Yaholo's question, leaning backwards and to the side. He paused, puffed his cheeks a little, and nodded.
"Yes, I'm afraid so." He replied, giving Yaholo an apologetic look. "Were you his...?"
"Where is his body?" Yaholo interrupted, jumping up from his position. "What have they done with him? Where is my 'Lixes?"
"We've given him a monument to honor him, but there was no body to bury." The man replied, his expression grave. "He might have been burnt to smithereens, which is why we haven't found his-"
"WHERE IS HE?" Yaholo bellowed, tears forming in his eyes. He didn't want to hear what had happened, all he wanted to know was where! The man raised his hand and pointed down the path, and Yaholo was off like a shot, racing through the trees.
It didn't take him too long to find what the old man had been talking about. A significant explosion had left several trees burnt and destroyed, all of them leading up to a monument sitting among the destruction. The Massif paused several feet before it and stared at the swords adorned upon it.
"No... NO! This wasn't supposed to happen!" He screamed, abandoning his belongings at his feet before racing forward. "You... YOU... NO!"
Quickly, he unraveled, screaming and crying with his arms wrapped around the monument. Eventually, he laid down and curled beside it, unable to cope with the stress any further. How could this happen to him? How could this happen to them? Had Aisha given him his babies in exchange for the life of his beloved? Were they early compensation for the hell he was going to have to go through later? How could she? Why? Was it his fault? Had he failed somewhere along the lines? What had he done to be punished like this?
Nightfall came and went, and Yaholo still hadn't moved. His eyes remained open and stoic upon the handles of the swords before him. Oulixes had held those swords while he was living... And now that he could no longer be here... Yaholo would hold onto whatever was left of him.
Word count: 1010
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