#jaimari

JAI WEST

yes redheaded wallys son

The one he had with BAMF news reporter Linda freakin Park aka this badass lady

(Also bart you little brat lol it's a good thing Linda so fond of you)

Twin brother of iris west II(NAMED after her great aunt and not to be confused with her same name half sister of the earth-22 kingdom come universe whose fully white thanks to having angela Margolin for a mom)

Thanks to speed force related stuff iris wound up being 2 years older then jai when they got their aging under control.

Also I've always been a speedemon(damiris) shipper so just imagine if Damian and marinette were half siblings lol. Like Damian could be 2 years older then marinette like iris and jai are.

    I write this standing on the edges of Zul’Drak. Standing on the edge of possibly changing my life forever. If memory has not failed me, this staircase will lead to a path that runs right by Har’koa’s temple. I should go and pledge an offering, but I am no huntress and have no idea what I could give or pledge in return of her guidance. But I hope that she will bless me with something that will help me in my quest.

    The biggest blessing I could ask for is to not be turned away if I find my family. For them to believe that I really am one of them. That I can be part of two families at the same time. I hope they see my mother’s eyes in me like you said I have. I hope they listen. But I cannot but expect them to turn me away. After all this time, why should they believe the tuskling they buried was not me?

   It has been a few days since my last entries, days I have spent collecting the items I feel necessary for this trip to Zul’Drak. Hopefully I have gotten the things I need.

    I even went and collected a couple of pouches of the berries you and I have always loved. I think they will keep for a couple of weeks as I search for clues. But I also have jerky to keep me going for a while. Some other foods I have found that should survive the trip.

    Gonna carry my daggers you gifted me. Hopefully I never need them with the little skill I have, but they are good in a pinch. Also have a small coin purse filled with rocks to carry on my hip like you told me, to keep my real coins well hidden. I doubt I will use it in Zul’Drak but it may ease my way into a passage elsewhere if that is where the clue lead.

The sky is dark and the hills are white

As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night;

And this is the song the storm-king sings,

As over the world his cloak he flings:

“Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;”

He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:

“Sleep, little one, sleep.”

On yonder mountain-side a vine

Clings at the foot of a mother pine;

The tree bends over the trembling thing,

And only the vine can hear her sing:

“Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;

What shall you fear when I am here?

Sleep, little one, sleep.”

The king may sing in his bitter flight,

The pine may croon to the vine to-night,

But the little snowflake at my breast

Likes the song which I sing best,

“Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;

Weary you are, next to my heart;

Sleep, little one, sleep.”

Mother,

     What a difference we had in the experience of burying our parents. Yours went out with cheers and burning passions. All I was able to give you was… me.

     You rest atop that hill we used to sit on to watch the sunrise some mornings. I think now on the lessons you taught me then - my herbs the primary of these lessons. But there was another lesson that was more subtle than what was led on. That even in bleakest areas of our life, beauty can be found.

     I took a bit of leather from that old worn out cloak of mine you were always telling me to replace and with it formed a satchel to carry the doll in. She now rests in it, carried on my hip right behind the sheath that carries my dirk on the left side.

     You said to sing the lullaby if I find the tears upon my eyes. I have been, ever since I laid the final stone on top of your grave. I dare not hope that I will find myself worthy of a child in the eyes of the Drakkari men. And I fear losing the lullaby I cling to so dearly as I fear it means I will lose your memory.

-As Jaimari found it.-

*Resting in ink on the front of a folded up piece of paper, sealed with wax, are the words “For when I am buried”*

            A burial place is always so destructive to the soul. Not so much to the one who has passed, but to the one who sends their loved one's off. I remember burying my own family when I was a little girl. Both my mother and father passed before I could truly enjoy life with them. I was ten seasons when they died together.

           I still remember my uncle and his men roaring out honors for my father, cheering him on as if he had climbed a war ship. The hoowah sounded throughout my very bones that day as flames licked upon their bodies, consuming up from the small canoe crafted for them both so they may climb aboard the Loa's ship and ride off unto the Hunting Grounds.

           I held tightly to a small doll that day, a simple doll... one my mother had hand crafted for me days before her and my father left for their last hunt. Little black beads for eyes, bone armor, and white tassel for hair.. I still have that doll to this day.

            Well, not me so much with me as it is near me. When you turned three, I gave that very same doll to you. It holds my mother's love, and now it holds my love for you. Keep it with you always, and I will be but a whisper away, but this chapter is coming to a close little leopard. Zul'drak calls your name now.

Mother,

    I buried you today. Gave you the burial rites as you taught me. And it was the worst day of my life. Drakkari are supposed to be strong and determined. Yet, I felt myself break down. I felt myself getting weaker. I might as well have been a Winterfang.

    The words I said to you before, the letter I wrote you before… It was all in anger and hurt. I still do not believe that this family will accept me. Why should they? But I know now it does not matter who birthed you. It does not matter what my line is. The woman who raised me to be the woman I am turning into… She will always be my mother, and she did not raise me to fail. But if this other family accepts me, then I am just receiving a blessing from Har’koa.

    Forgive me, Mother. Forgive me for being weak and wanting to just give up. You did not raise a child in the way of cowards. And yet, I was one. I was… not a Drakkari. Something less. Even for one of us that has not lived in the city all these years, outcasts as we are, I was something less than the snows on the ground.

    Jaimari as we knew her did die. But we both know a different Jaimari now. One that has outgrown her old fur and has a chance to find a life outside this small hut we have repaired together over and over in the years. While I know nothing else beyond this, it would be the traditional Drakkari way to meet this challenge head on. And so, I will.

    I may not continue my story for a few days, Mother. I must gather things and make plans. Trade for items I may need. I think the first part of my path will take me into the city. None know me there, so perhaps I can traverse it with little consequence. If my birth family was noble, then they must live close to the temples. Or maybe I can find clues there, even these years after the destruction of the Drakkari empire.

Woman,

A letter should have a name addressed on it, but… I no longer know what to call you. I no longer know what to even call myself.

Part of me understands your reasoning, so I cannot find fault with you and your choices. But for you to think this family would accept me now? That they would accept me after all of this time? You say they are a noble family, and they buried me. Not just a body they buried, but they buried a memory they never even had a chance to enjoy.

Yet you say I have my mother’s eyes. Since when have eyes ever proven a lineage? You never taught me birthing as there was never any child born out here in the wilderness you hid us in, but you taught me the details of recording that we must endure to show a lineage - details that have no doubt never seen the light of day regarding my own birth. There is nothing to prove I am who you say I am.

Maybe that is for the best. If no one knows my name or my line, if no one knows where I came from, perhaps I can find peace in the snows of Zul’Drak. Perhaps I can fade away like a ghost in this place. Har’koa knows, there’s been more than enough death here. I would just be one of the many.

I know your intentions for this letter is not for me to hide away until I die. I… I have much to think about. But today, I must prepare for your rite of burial. Then I will plan mine. For it does not matter that my body physically walks any more.