Even as Koana talks with Karo about how he doesn't remember his life with this parents before the tragedy, Karo echoes how she doesn't remember anything before being found by her Da an Pa in Eorzea. Their stories both so similar and different at the same time.
They're more similar than either know, for still buried beneath a lethe potion's power, Karo's memories of these very lands simmer. A small kit playing with her brother, not a care in the world.
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I can't believe it's been 10 years since I started playing XIV, but here we are. Karo's come quite a way from where she first started and I've had a blast exploring her and what she's become to mean to me. Thanks to everyone that's been around for the journey--and I can't wait to see what's next!!
Mayqo'te Day 15: Remember
"Rremeyo," the Miqo'te twitched as Xik'nal said his name. The had been stalled here in the port city of Limsa Lominsa as he made his way around, trying to learn what he could of the large island they found themselves on. The local dialect had made it very difficult for Rremeyo to try and learn much of anything yet, frustrating to both him and the locals both trying to overcome the others accent.
"You need to remember why we're here," his eyes flashed up to her imposing height before looking away again, ashamed at the lack of progress. He somehow thought it would be much easier of a process than it had become. Eorzea sounded so small compared to Tural when he had talked to all the foreginers back home! Surely it shouldn't be that hard to find one Hhetsarro girl, grown up without parents.
Eorzea was much more populated than anyone had given him reason to believe however, and there were many more Hhetsarro here than he was also given to understand. Their funds were already starting to get strained, and he knew they'd have to start bringing in gil sooner rather than later.
"I know. I'll find her. Somehow," sighing and he looked back down. "and I'll find some jobs to help." Rremeyo could hear Xik'nal sigh before she patted his shoulder, and headed out. It was going to be a long moon.
Rremeyo headed toward the bridge, both nervous and excited. He was finally leaving Shaaloani. Finally, out to find his sister, wherever she may have ended up.
"Wait for me, Khrrosaka. I'll find you and protect you once more."
[Context: Karo might have regained most of her childhood memories, but she still doesn't remember anything before being found by her adopted Da and Pa. Little does she know she was born in Shaaloani to a sister tribe of the Hhetsarro, and her parents are still alive, as is her brother. For reasons yet unknown, her father took her to Eorzea where she was left. Rremeyo was just old enough to not understand, and swore from a very early age that he would find her once again. This is the beginning of his tale.]
((Here we go!! 7.0 opening spoilers, and naught else except for some major lore drops on my end for my OCs! Eeeeeeee! [and despite the mentioning of, I didn't take the time to edit int he hair tassels... maybe later...]))
Sea salt tickled her nose as the bright sun shone down. It was the perfect day for the start of a new adventure. A tad bittersweet that she was leaving her loves behind–but Thancred was at least out on his own adventure with Urianger, and G’raha had been the perfect gentleman, offering his own spot to Krile. She did have the most intriguing reason for going, and Karo couldn’t wait to dig more into that mystery with her.
She had packed light, like she usually did. A few good changes of clothes, personal items, and writing implements. A handful of linkshells–if they’d even work at that distance–a warm cloak, and two distinctive pieces of jewelry that she never took off except to wash. The first was the one most had gotten to recognize ever since she returned from the first, crystal and silver hanging from the braids she had styled her hair into. Precious pieces of the Crystal Tower, crafted by G’raha while still on the First, a symbol of his love, and something to remind her of the First wherever she went.
The second was much more recent, but equally as precious and even more meaningful somehow. The braided chain necklace that kept slipping under her tunic; tri-colored metals woven together and holding yet another shard of the First’s Crystal Tower. What it symbolized was still only known to three people on the Source–and four on the First. They had decided to keep it that way for a while–-the three of them–until the time felt right to announce it. Between all the Void nonsense and now the travel to Tural–they hadn’t been all together much. Karo’s fingers brushed over the shard, thinking happily of her betrothed. Yes, they would keep it a secret just a little longer.
She had said goodbye to Raha privately, knowing that she would be a mess at the docks otherwise, and he respected her wishes to join Ameliance, Fourchenault, and Tataru on the harbor shore instead of walking her to the dock. Having her emotions sorted before she reached the ship turned out for the best, for as she reached the bottom of the long stairs down from the Annex, the wanderlust hit with a force it hadn’t in ages. This was finally a trip for the sake of adventure–and sure, to help a girl be worthy of her father’s throne–but a new land to be explored all the same.
The harbor was bustling as it always seemed to be, full of boats small and large. Some simple fishing boats, headed not far from the shore, or returning with an early morning’s catch already. Mid-sized ships heading to the other local isles with supplies, ready to return with raw materials and research paraphernalia. And then there were the large sea-faring ships like what she was headed for. Those that could and would span the great expanse, creating paths where there were once none. Some lead back to Eorzea and even further East to Othard and Doma, but the largest in the harbor was the ship to Tural; able to withstand whatever the sea should throw at them.
Erenville was waiting for her as she strode forth, smile dancing on her lips. They fell into stride, heading to the ship. Not much was said–both glad to take in the morning’s fair turn as they strode to reach their waiting companions. Tural awaited.
As the ship to Tural slowly filled with new travelers, a pair still lingered from the voyage to Sharylan. A bored looking hrothgar lass leaned against the deck, as her companion, a miqo’te bounced to each new group of people to board, asking the same question over and over. Did they know a miqo’te–looked similar to himself, but with black hair and blue eyes? Most ignored his pleas, others gave curt negatives, and some few he was able to coax a small conversation from. Each time, the answer was nearly the same; they had seen ladies of that complexion before, mostly on the mainland of Eorzea, and none they knew personally.
He had already asked the entire crew before they were even a day away from Tural, several commiserating on losing a family member at an early age. The story was an odd one though from anyone’s account. When the siblings had been young–too early to read even–their father had taken the younger girl away on a long journey. The boy and his mother had been left behind, their lifestyle changed radically to provide funds for wherever it was the others were traveling. Well over a year later, the father had returned, sister nowhere to be found, and no mention beyond some mutterings of fate, the name Khrrosaka was never spoken in the household from that day forth.
Tail and ears low, Rremeyo finally nodded to his companion, and the two wound their way down from the deck to the dock–gently going against the influx of new travelers boarding. The voyage had been longer than he realized, and from the time Tural’s coast disappeared from view, he had been on edge. Never had he been on a boat for so long–nor had been not able to see land. The rocking reminded him of flying in the dirigibles, swaying gently–and sometimes not so gently in the wind. Those were always shorter trips though, and land always easily in sight.
He knew that his curiosity had both amused and annoyed the crew in equal measures, figuring out early who was willing to indulge him in sea tales, and what each part of the grand ship did. It settled his anxiety, writing in his journal all he had found so far–and realizing that he was going to need several more of the books before his journey was done.
As the cold air hit his face, Rremeyo finally looked up at the city they had arrived in. To say it was the opposite of Tuliyollal was an understatement. One of the only things in common was that the two cities were built of stone–-but what difference the type of stone made!
Instead of warm reds and yellows being the undertone, everything here radiated stark white trimmed with a blue that matched the clear harbor waters. Rounded roofs were common, the gentle curves off-setting the pointed angles of the rest of the buildings. They were both built up from their harbors, steps winding into the city. Whereas Tuliyollal was a riot of color, Sharylan oozed stark elegance and aloofness in its austerity. Rremeyo shivered slightly as the breeze blew in off the sea, playing with his hair and chilling his ear tips.
A gentle nudge from Xik’nal reminded him that he had stopped like the country bumpkin he was to stare while on the gangplank. Flushing, he started moving again, boots hitting the stone dock finally. Swaying momentarily–regaining his equilibrium on land–he glanced up at his traveling companion with a nod, and headed into the city, starting to chat about where to go first–and the possibility of booking another ship to Eorzea sooner rather than later.
Perhaps it was Nymeia’s lasting influence on the situation, or Hydaelyn having one last little chuckle in the lifestream, but mere fulms apart, the two siblings did pass, neither realizing–or even remembering–whom the other was. A new journey was beginning for both, and where it would lead, not even the gods knew.
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((7.0 spoilers in the most BROAD of senses...And.... welcome to something that started during I think last year--if not the year before's FFXIVWrite... someone finally has a name, and 7.0 created some VERY big revelations for me with Karo's backstory. ^_^ many thanks to @lagolepuri for brother's name, and help brainstorming for Karo's original))
Not for the first, nor the last time, Rremeyo tugged on his turban to hide his ears better, while attempting to walk straight as he hid his tail as well. It was preferred to the stares he got walking from the small clay hut his mother had gotten them to stay in to the market to get the meager morsels of food they could afford. Luwateninyawawsa was a town of all Tonawawata–and being Hhetsarro made them stick out. Not that anyone was directly cruel to them, but the stares were much for him to endure, being as young as he was. His mother kept her head high, and though she wore the same garments as he to blend in a bit, she did not hide her Hhetsarro features.
Rremeyo missed the family tent. He missed the clan, and the road. He missed the animals and the sound of nature. Most of all he missed father and little Khrrosaka. They had left several moons prior, leaving him and his mother in this strange town, selling the tents and animals for the little dwelling on the edge of town.
No matter how many times he asked, he could not get an answer on where they had gone, why, or for how long. He would catch his mother on the second story porch looking out towards the giant bridge that led to the Southern part of Tural, tears streaming down her face. It was his only clue.
He lost track of the days and moons that came and went, slowly becoming more at ease in his new home, but joining his mother on the porch in the evening, looking to the bridge. He had slowly allowed himself to stop hiding, the village having grown used to seeing him dart through the streets. He earned them a meager amount of pel from running messages and small errands, being quick on his feet, and quicker to find his way around. With everyone knowing his face, there was little reason to hide.
Then one hot autumn day–over a year since they had been living in the small village–a solitary Hhetsarro walked wearily to their door, ears and tail hanging low. And as his parents embraced, tears streaming down their faces, all the young boy could do was howl.
((I love the idea of pranksters. I have a difficult time thinking *of* pranks. I think I did okay with this one! Have some Xik'nal and Rremeyo!))
"You know," Xik'nal leaned against the ship's rail looking over at Rremeyo. "These Eorzeans have an interesting custom when greeting each other." The Miqo'te's ears perked up, suddenly very alert and attentive. They had been on the boat for less than a day at this point, and he had still not gained his sea-legs.
Keeping her face neutral, but grinning inside, she continued on. Rremeyo was fairly naive, and it would be fun to see how far she could get him to go before he caught on.
"Yes! I was talking with one of them, and they said to correctly greet them, you must clap your hands twice, clasp them together, then bow," she demonstrated carefully, before leaning against the rail again. Her companion's tail twitched excitedly with the news.
"So like this?" he mimicked her movements carefully before looking up for approval, ears wiggling happily. Nodding sagely, she complimented him.
"Yes, just so! When you start your investigations, I would recommend starting with that greeting to get on the best foot possible with the other guests!" she beamed at him proudly, while snickering to herself. He would figure it out most likely by the third person he talked to, but at least in the meantime it would make the beginning of the long voyage across the salt more interesting.
((Back with Rremeyo! Some more forbidden Karo backstory lore, and building on his story! 6.0 spoilers only in the sense of *where* it is.))
Rremeyo hefted the sack up to his shoulder, carefully treading his way to the alpaca cart that awaited the bundle. The work wasn’t particularly difficult, but was labor intensive, leaving him sore in the evening, and stiff in the morning if he forgot to stretch. It was worth it however, because the Pelupelu were always fair, and paid an honest amount for the work done. It was definitely easier to save coin here than it had been in Tuliyollal, the city too full of people, and too expensive for one not used to having any pel at all. The tribe had taken care of those types of things, and leaving on his own meant abandoning that security as well.
Deep inside the burning ember of why he was doing this burned all the brighter. Ever since his father had taken Khrrosaka across Zorgor the Boundless, the need to find her once more raged within him. How they could abandon her, leave her to her own devices at such an age went against all that he had been taught and learned from the tribe. He would not forsake his sister.
This did mean that he had a near impossible task set out before him however. Only the kindness of strangers had meant he had made it to Tyliyollal to begin with, and determination and hard work had gotten him to where he was now. It had already been several years since the red moon had fallen from the sky beyond the Indigo Deep, and the rumors that had returned from Eorzea about a Calamity that had torn the earth asunder–the great wyrm Bahamut bursting forth and somehow re-contained and defeated. Yet, beyond the red moon falling, naught had happened to his home. Rremeyo took it as a sign however, that it was time to move on, and the night that the Calamity happened had been the night he left the tribe.
His search had started in Tuliyollal, trying to pick up a trail over a decade old at that point. It did not deter him, and he worked in every odd job someone was willing to give him to have a roof over his head. From there, it was a matter of saving, pel by precious pel. The plan was to explore all of Yok Tural, asking questions and attempting to find a lead while doing so. It was going to take a lot of Pel to be able to travel as freely as he wanted, but, if his luck held with Pelupelu, he might have a good start–and some allies wherever he roamed.
A shout from behind stirred him from his musings, realizing he had started to daydream once more about what a reunion would look like, and he flushed as he hurried back to the stack of sacks that needed to be moved, ducking his head in apology. There was work to be done now–the dream would have to wait.