"May you transcend the Gates of Knowledge."
Homeworld: Midgardsormr [Aether]
The Loss Never Spoken
Under the shine of Menphina and her loyal hound many years ago, Xel’xe was born part of a set of twins to a weaver. Settled in Quarrymill for hearth did the weaver raise the boy lovingly as any mother would. For four winters, did the woman fend off the advances of another Keeper of the Moon Miqo’te, a man, with self proclamations of one day being a “King”.Over the years, Xel’xe and his brother often had to watch how these exchanges continued to grow more violent with hissing and extended claws. Even with promises of community and large “family” their mother continued to refuse him.“I have everything I’ll ever need or want right here”, she would tell him with a prideful swish of her tail.This would prove to be a mistake.Under the cover of night did this “King”’s gang move to action. Two women stood guard out in the open with wooden masks stoically scanned for interruptions while three others gutted the cottage. As they passed by a glade wardrobe, their ears flickered at a small indistinguishable noise. One pressed her ear to the wardrobe door to listen for the same sound only to immediately jerk her head to signal the others. They flung it open, weapons ready in hand and tails bristling with intent.Huddled into a corner, her eyes wide and feral, was the mother. The children were notably absent from her side, which caused the supposed leader of the pack to snarl. A “family” should never be separated, they agreed. Two of the women nodded to each other, “Find them.”“Xel’xe! keep running!” His brother cried, his grip tight on Xel’xe’s arm. Xel’xe did his best to keep up, his grip on his brother’s arm just as tight, ears flat against his skull. He stumbled over each stone, branch, and twig that lashed at his legs. They ran for what seemed like malms before finally stopping, bending over to grip their knees. Desperately filling their lungs with air, Xel’xe and his brother stood at the spot their mother had told them to wait. After pacing and waiting, both heard the sound of someone approaching. Xel noted the relief mirrored on his brother’s face.But it wasn’t their mother who greeted them.The group of five surrounded the young kits. One was holding their badly beaten mother by her upper arm, her lifeless gaze didn’t rise to meet them.“Don’t move,” barked one of the masked women as she nocked her bow in warning. The trees creaked in the wind, groaning as though the forest feared for the lives that would be extinguished within it.His twin took a slow, uneasy step towards Xel’xe, his face pale, his tiny hand reaching towards his brother.“Xel-”The next thing he heard was a dull whistle, felt a sharp push that had him stumbling backwards. The arrow barely missed impaling itself in his eye, thudding into the tree behind him. Xel’xe heard his brother crying in pain, could feel hot blood dripping down his cheek, but didn’t understand why his vision had suddenly been halved.Then he felt the pain.His ears twitched. He could feel the pain, but it suddenly felt detached. He could hear his brother babbling, whimpering, but it sounded yalms away. His fur bristled as a bright light illuminated the area… centered on him.Aether surrounded him, wrapping him up in an icy blanket that he knew should sting, but it didn’t. He could no longer feel the pain in his eye or his cheek.A mercy, his little mind thought, as he faded out of consciousness.He awoke to a dull ringing in his ears. Confused, scared, Xel’xe pushed himself up from the ground and looked around. He was alone.Tears flooded and stung his damaged eye. The only evidence anyone had ever been there were smears of dark, rusted red that mingled with the dirt and grass. Great, heaving sobs wracked the child’s body, and Xel’xe found himself sitting in a crumpled heap for hours, a pale hand covering his ruined eye. Finally pushing strands of dirty purple hair from his face, the small Miqo’te looked around.Where had they gone?
Found
Crates. Cold and cramped wooden crates became Xel'xe's lonely home for many winters. Wandering aimlessly, he made his bed stashed with the wares of random traders, sometimes on carriages and sometimes on airships.Stealth did not come easy to the frightened and gilless orphan. Oftentimes he got caught and despite trying to explain his situation, he was chased off as if he was some wild couerl kitten.Luck would favor him with a kind merchant occasionally. Someone who would feed him what little extra they had on hand in their wares or offer a warm place to sleep for the night.With uneasy joy that pricked up his ears, he could say he preferred the merchants who would feed his hungry mind as well as his stomach, allowing him to read a tome of his choice between points of travel.Time escaped Xel'xe while his eyes scanned pages and his mind would eventually wander elsewhere. To memories of when his mother taught him and his brother common. When Ink smudged across his pale cheek as he leaned in real close so his letters weren't blurs and sleepless nights sheltered beneath his blankets reading a new tome, carefully picked out for him.A peaceful calm would always come over him as he filled his small mind with new information, and he'd smile as he remembered the compliments from his mother, like, "Such a fast learner, maybe one day you'll even teach me!""Why are you so boring? Reading is boring." His brother had teased occasionally, "and there's no pictures!"Where were they now? Had he killed his only family? The thought made him uneasy, his ears flat against his hair. Even the poachers had been gone with no explanation, no trace beside that haunting rusty smear.Xel'xe furrowed his brow at the memories.Eventually he found himself older, but still lost. Questions floated in his head: How long had he wandered aimlessly through the endless hours... unable to escape the past..? Where was he even going..? Was he alive for simple survival..? When had he boarded a Ship?Any efforts to find his missing family had borne no fruit, and he felt like giving up. So he wandered, until he found himself at Mealvaan's gate. The gate was a bustling customs office where everyone was required to pass through to enter Limsa's main streets
.
The young Miqo'te stood in line for some time, but something caught his attention and he was drawn away from the queue.A simple shelf of drawers and books.Such simple furnishing made him perk up, his ears twitching. It reminded him of the very shelf his mother carefully curated for him in his youth, but much taller and filled with more books than he’d owned.He tentatively reached out a hand, hesitating, until his index finger pressed one's spine.Many bells passed with Xel'xe poring over one after another. Practically cramping himself into the corner with a stack of books to each side, he'd begun growing enamored with the new knowledge he was cultivating.Archanima, an Archanist's methods of evocation. It was noted by one tome to be similar to ancient practices of Allag, with little trace of the title of these practices. Through faded letters it mentioned how they were able to bind (the) essence of something known as a "Primal'' to their wills.These descriptions matched what he had experienced that fateful night.The hairs on his neck began to raise and one ear flicked to his right as footsteps distracted him from his thoughts."Please go away," he thought to himself, irritated. He needed to study this more, and in great detail!"Well, Well." A soft voice spoke, startling him. Tilting his head back to glance at the speaker, he saw a blur of autumn colored hair before knocking his head on the bottom of a shelf. A few books tumbled down on him as the woman laughed, soft and warm."I'm sorry young one, I didn't mean to startle you. Just surprised to see someone so enamored with my tomes." Her voice was quiet, amused. He could barely make out what he assumed was a small smile. "My name is Thubyrgeim. And you are?"Another small laugh escaped the woman when Xel'xe squinted up at her, trying to make out her shape and put a face to the speaker. He could only make out the color of her hair and her ivory skin. His silent contemplation didn't seem to bother her. Thubyrgeim knelt down next to Xel'xe, making her large stature and soft features easier to make out."Not much of a talker are you?” She smiled. “It's an interesting one."He blinked, tilting his head in confusion."The tome you're reading there. Perhaps one day I can put you in contact with the one who gave it to me."Xel'xe still didn't answer. Thubyrgeim simply smiled at him and offered her hand to him, which he stared at in apprehension. After what felt like an age, He took her hand hesitantly. He was gently pulled to his feet, and led a short distance to a row of desks.Standing next to Thybyrgeim, he realized just how large this woman was. She easily towered several feet over him, and for the first time in a long time the Miqo’te was reminded of how small he was.A bespectacled salt and pepper haired hyuran woman the same height as him smiled at the pair from behind one of the many desks. After a brief conversation between the hyur and Thubyrgeim, a combination passport guild registration form was presented to him. Thubyrgeim instructed him to sign it, gently tapping each line that required it."Xel'xe Attis?" She smiled as he leaned over and scratched in his signature with a pen. "Well, Xel'xe, considering your thirst for the arcane, I hope you don't mind being signed up for the Arcanist's guild? It comes with the perks of being able to read as many tomes as you like from our personal reserve.” She grinned down at him. “how does that sound?""G…Good."Was that his voice? He hadn't used it in so long, only making soft noises of affirmation or disagreement over the years."Oh-Hoh! He does talk! Well, you've already signed some of the documents, but I'll write up the rest of the paperwork and notify K'rhid, our guild master, of our new face. I'm sure K'lyhia will also be delighted." She beamed down at him, her blue eyes sparkling.After careful observation of his reading habits, Xel'xe would learn he needed glasses with help from Thubyrgeim and the bespectacled hyuran girl. After bringing it up, Thubyrgeim gifted him a pair of silver rimmed spectacles of his own and his ability to see the world around him showed marked improvement.Over the years, He would meet K’rhid and K’lyhia, as they were two of his instructors in Arcanima. K’rhid was an eccentric white haired Miqo’te with a penchant to tease others, and K’lyhia was an abstruse and bookish Miqo’te girl with pink hair. Other lessons were conducted in small groups in Mealvaan's gate. Over time, He came to love his fellow Archanists as a family, which continued to grow and sate his thirst for knowledge.The teasing presented by the guildmaster was the only thing he didn't enjoy. Such as making students dance for him just to get their hands on a specific tome. He preferred the company of Thubyrgeim, who had come to be a surrogate mother to him, or K'lyhia, who he grew to respect and view as a sister.
Futures Written
It was a graduation gift.On the wall deep within the heart of the arcanum studium hung an oil painting Thubyrgeim had commissioned on a whim. There was a refined quality of the figure in the painting and a gentleness reflected in his eyes. The book painted in the figure’s hands invoked the scent of old parchment and paper vanillin.“I think I speak for all of us here in the guild when I say, It was a necessity. After all, you are the guild’s child. I couldn’t help myself,” came an affectionate laugh.Xel’xe’s tail stood rigid for a split second as he craned his neck to regard Thubyrgeim at his side. He could almost hear K’rhid’s voice echoing words of agreement with a mocking tone, making his ears twitch in annoyance. Knowing the guild leader, he would aim to make the sentimental moment more embarrassing if he was there. Thubyrgeim once had to explain to Xel’xe that it was out of their fondness for him that they teased him.“It’s been a real treat getting to watch you grow, not only academically in the guild, but as a person,” She praised.In her eyes he was still just a kitten poring over tome after tome, as studious as the day she found him. A youngling she watched grow into a fine young adult with those same qualities with pride. Soon Xel’xe would be off for bigger and brighter vistas. One of which was a passion and dream of his.A library.He smiled as he thought about his dream, a public repository of books meant to share knowledge with the masses. Unlike the people of Sharlayan, Xel’xe believed to his core that knowledge was power and one meant to be shared, not coveted. He believed it was how knowledge was used that made it inherently good or bad. Thank the twelve, he wasn’t alone, as Thubyrgeim offered to help file the permits needed.“You may not think it, but you do cut quite the handsome figure,” A bubbling chortle escaped from Thubyrgeim, cutting off Xel’xe’s thoughts. “Not to mention that natural hair of yours. It makes you stick out in a crowd.”“I know, I know…”Xel’xe felt his cheeks redden as he brought a hand up to brush strands of blue and bubblegum pink away from his glasses. She had a point when it came to his dual toned hair. It meant he was easy to identify by those who knew him. Even if he’d seen something similar in the bustling streets, he was still somehow unique. He willed away his blush as he stared at the portrait that reflected his person. It was a thoughtful gift from Thubyrgeim.“Just… Please, PLEASE, don’t brag about me to any of the new students, or ANY students for that matter…” He mumbled, embarrassed.Xel’xe hoped.He hoped that his smile did not give away the quiet thought he allowed himself to share in a whisper. Xel’xe also smiled, joyful that he had managed to make his name well known among his fellow arcanists and teachers.Covering her mouth with her hand, Thubyrgeim concealed her smile. If it was an accident or not, it still made her smile from ear to ear. A warmth spread in her chest as she considered his plea halfheartedly. After all, she had heard him say it.No matter how quiet.Even if he tried to deny it, Thubyrgeim heard what he’d called her.“... mom.”
Queen of Storms
By his twenty-fifth summer, Xel’xe met a white furred miqo’te archaeologist named Y’mitra. She had uncovered Allagan tomestones detailing the existence of summoners and Xel’xe was granted access. Working together, they studied each tomestone.In the era of Allag, Summoners could call the power of primal gods. Through arcanima this would grant the user temporary power of a chosen god. This was called “Favor” and would imbue the summoner with that god’s elemental essence until used. The profession eventually died out for unknown reasons.Y’mitra asked him to keep this information discrete. Xel’xe had no intention of betraying her trust, but he transcribed the information for further study. Until given permission he kept this information well hidden. He swore to himself, these tomes were never to be shelved or put in circulation.Primal summonings had become a scourge on the land. Tribes all over Eorzea called forth gods for protection and retribution. Xel’xe decided this gave more reason to keep the information safe.He worked to establish the Erthiss Library by his twenty-ninth summer, having heard the “Erthiss” uttered in a dream. It was a respectable space of three stories, shelves on each floor, and with two hired retainers overlooking book stalls near the entrance. However, opening the library had to wait.Knock. Knock.“Xel’xe Attis?” What regarded the fledgling librarian was a large, dark furred, and thick-rim spectacled hrothgar.“Yes?” The miqo’te drew out his answer.“Please!” Begged the Hrothgar. “I am Zletan of the Bozjan resistance front!”“Ah,” Xel’xe found his door caught on the hrothgar’s foot. He frowned. “I’m not sure what that has to do with me.”“Everything, or so I’m led to believe,”said Zletan. “You study all manner of histories, not just your own cities, but that of distant lands. At least–”Zletan adjusted his glasses to review a piece of paper.
“That’s what our source said.”Xel’xe’s frown deepened as he went over the names of who the source could be. He let out a sigh and opened the door to allow Zletan in. He pulled a chair out from one of the nearby tables and placed it in front of a curved desk, clearly his.“Sit,” Xel’xe murmured politely.“Thank you very much.” Zletan bowed before taking his seat.He paused to look at the recently finished book-shelves around the room. Some empty, others half filled, it made him question if he’d gotten the correct address. Zletan hazarded a guess that the library was fairly new, making this harder.“As I said before, our intelligence states you have a deep understanding of history. Well, it so happens that the resistance is in deep need of someone with your knowledge. You would be a strategist and consultant.”Xel’xe glanced to the side in thought.
“I admit, I have studied a great deal of civilizations and cultures,” he said. “I would assume that a true Bozjan born would be more suited to be your historian. I don’t –”“We do! Have Bozjan born historians I mean, few in number though they are.” Zletan said quickly. “The resistance’s numbers are few as is. We could use any help we can get.”Xel’xe had heard how short-handed the resistance was. They wouldn’t have come for help without just reason, right? Though the question nagged at him, how they had found his business, and him, by extension? He couldn’t escape Zletan’s pleading eyes watching him.Before his brain could stop him he said, “Would my answer matter? You seem desperate, and I have a feeling you’ll continue to ask until I say “Yes”. So, who am I to argue? I will be your historian, consultant, and strategist.”His eyes went wide and his ears shot up when he saw the look of awe on the larger man’s face. The hrothgar grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously in thanks with a look of delight that belied his monstrous appearance. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you Mister Attis!”It wasn’t long after that Xel’xe found himself living in the tents at the southern front. Though he had some battle experience, he was rarely asked to leave the camp. On rare occasions he would enter the field with an armed guard.Most times the men would bring him back a dusty tome or trinket from the field in hopes that he’d know the origin. Other times he was taken to the tent to consult strategies with his knowledge of the region. Xel’xe was asked what he believed would bring the resistance closer to victory, though his advice wasn’t always welcome.One day, Xel’xe found himself in the middle of a fierce battle that had broken out. Men scrambled to defend the perimeter and fight off the opposing machines. Helldivers, he heard them called, descended on them in droves. His tail curled tightly around his leg as he watched bodies collapse into dirt. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for! He wasn’t supposed to be on the front lines! This was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission near some old Bozjan ruins. His job was to ascertain the origins and see if any advantage could be found in their history.This was a slaughter.Only once before had Xel’xe felt this frightened and helpless. A familiar glow of aether surrounded him as he fell to his knees, but this felt different somehow. No! This was wrong! Not again! Regardless of innocence, too many lives were on the line right now, he had to stop this. The slaughter had to be stopped.Clink! Clink! Splat!Xel’xe’s ears pinned back when something wet and hot splattered across his face, sliding down his cheek. When he could finally focus his eyes, he noted the large body that had shielded him from a rain of bullets. A scream ripped out of his lungs when that guard collapsed into his arms. He scrambled backwards as he attempted to stand.No.NO!The scream he heard next wasn’t his own. Wind picked up until it formed a localized cyclone around the battlefield, picking off friend or foe daring to get too close to the tempest winds. Xel’xe could feel himself losing his grip on reality as he saw and felt her.Garuda, the Queen of Storms.The jade harpy god of the Ixal stood, glowing with a wicked grin on the field. One by one did machines fall, some ripped apart by the razor sharp winds, while others were torn asunder by her very talons. Oddly, she ignored the bozjan soldiers. Only the garlean troops and war machina saw her wrath.Her focus seemed to shift based on what was firing on her. She grabbed a single Helldiver that barely scraped the aether of her wings. Cackling madly, she tore steel from wire to shred the machine. With little effort, she tore the pilot from the cockpit and unceremoniously tossed them to the side.Xel’xe stared with awe and horror when the Queen of Storms began to fade back into aether. Like she was never there, she had vanished into a stream of whites and green. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the bodies that littered the battlefield. Then the scent of blood became too much, bile coating the back of his throat as he retched and struggled to stand.“THIS ONE IS STILL BREATHING!” Hollered a faceless soldier. “Call the chirurgeons!”Crowding the body that had been ripped from the cockpit was a small platoon of bozjan soldiers. Xel’xe stumbled to join them and had to clasp a hand over his mouth. It was an anemic, barely breathing viera, one that had clearly seen countless nightmares. Likely a test subject for garlean experiments, Xel’xe thought.Just how many bozjans fell to a similar fate? Xel’xe’s tail bristled at the thought of countless people being torn from their homes, forced into the hardship of war, and exploited for a ruler of a foreign nation. Xel’xe resolved to harness his power and see to it that any garlean conscript was freed. He would help the bozjan resistance see this war to the end.