Thirteenth Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover
He cursed the sun loudly as he walked. It was blasphemous to even whisper, let alone yell such curses as a Keeper of the Sun, but it was traditions such as those that landed W'khan in his current situation. Though he'd lived in the desert his entire life, he'd never remembered it being so hot or so bright as it felt now. With each step his booted toes seemed to cook hotter and hotter as they sunk into the sand.
He had no more than the clothes he wore and the spear on his back; not even bothering to fill his belly before leaving. W'khan hadn't been exiled. There was no tradition that forced him from his home and his people. No, it was simply a matter of pride, or lack thereof. Having been emasculated in front of his peers and forced to return to the role of a Tia left no choice in his mind than to leave, making his current situation all the more pitiable.
Fortunately, even with all the things he'd left behind, his instincts stayed with him and though the years leading up to now had been spent mostly idle, he was still a strong and cunning hunter. At least, that's what his ego would tell him.
The tracks he spotted no doubt belonged to a Dune Angler, a harmless scavenger but a decent meal, and by the looks of it, a big one. So, with spear in hand he set after his prey, following the snaking tail marks over one dune and then the next in a seemingly endless chase urged forward only by his whining stomach.
Through his miserable trek he couldn't help but remind himself of the chain of events that led to this point. Had he made so many mistakes, or was it simply the jealous plotting of the people he deemed beneath him? He'd drive himself crazy with thoughts like these, but in his solitude there was nothing, nobody, to pull him out of it. The brooding only made him more angry, tightening his grip on the spear as he neared the peak of the latest dune, sure that his quarry was on the other side and he was ready to unleash his rage on the helpless creature. What he found as he crested the sand instead was a large, red-scaled sundrake staring right back at him. It lowered his body with a throaty hiss, showing off it's fangs as it dug its claws into the sand in preparation to charge.
"I'm such a fucking idiot."
Eleventh Sun of the Second Astral Moon, Year of the Lover
"Yeah, but I'm the nunh. That's my responsibility."
"It's not your responsibility to distract three, sometimes four huntresses at a time, sometimes for days at a time. It's your responsibility to keep the tribe strong be siring cubs and you haven't even been doing that. It's been moons since we've had a birth, and our matriarch is even more frustrated with you than I am. The least you could do is squirt in the right hole next time, W'Khan."
W'fhin Tia was the tribe head and had a lot of respect from the other members as a smart tactician and a skilled warrior. It wasn't uncommon for a tia to lead the tribe, and in this case he was smaller, and by the same degree weaker than W'khan which earned him a bit of lee way. In truth the relationship between the two was pretty ideal. W'khan never measured the skinny male as a threat to his position, and he had no interest in leading the tribe, so for the most part they stayed out of each other's way except for the barest of formality that each position demanded.
W'fhin departed the nunh's tent without another word, but he'd done what he came to do by destroying the mood. W'khan gave a throaty growl, the kind native eorzeans struggled to duplicate, the kind as such only a cat could make and dismissed the women he kept in his possession by doing so. His chair was a lavish display of pillows and cushions and he sat on it naked and on display, propping his head on one arm as he watched them leave.
Thirteenth Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover
The fire crackled and spat embers around on the sand as bits of cooking fat and grease dripped from the sundrake tail that was held in place by a spear over it. W'khan had no spare cloth to improvise as a bandage so his left arm and shoulder bled freely, painting his sleeve and the sand beneath him a deep red. He didn't seem to mind though, now that the sun had set and the heat subsided he was content to stare at the fire and make sure his dinner wouldn't burn.
In his isolation he had plenty of time to think, but his past wasn't something he wanted to relive right now. The sting of his defeat hurt worse than the bite of the drake that so keenly weighed on his body. As much as he tried though, there was little to distract his thoughts from drifting. At least he was close to town. If he skipped sleeping, he might even be there by morning.
Fifth Sun of the Third Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover
"Another huntress left the tribe, W'khan!" F'fhin hissed. His tone was sharp, and W'khan didn't have patience for being scolded by any male, as they were all seen as lesser than himself. He rose from his seat, clad in the barest of cloth draped over his frame ready to snap a reply.
"It's worse this time. It was-"
"W'xeii left because of YOU!" The feminine voice was furious as the elder woman charged in behind W'fhin. Perhaps the only person in the tribe W'khan truly feared; the matriarch, W'anya. She had stood in a place of deep respect to the tribe. A task that was not easy to maintain after her husband, the former nunh, stepped down and left. His actions were viewed as a betrayal and reflected on his entire family. Even in spite of this, W'anya and her family had flourished, earning their place among the rest by exemplifying whatever craft they endeavored to take up in service of the tribe. W'anya was no exception. The Keepers of the Sun didn't revere matriarchs in the same way the Keepers of the Moon did, but even still her council and wisdom had been indispensable to the tribe heads.
And if her accusation was true, W'khan had just chased off her youngest daughter.
Fourteenth Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover
"Hahah! It's not so bad, little guy!"
At least his tone was friendly. Disarming. Though, W'khan didn't like being called little. It wasn't like he could argue though, the Roegadyn that had found him was massive by comparison. W'khan stood at maybe nipple height, but he wasn't just tall, he was built like a tree and could no doubt crush the smaller miqo'te without much of a thought. He called himself Drifting Wind, and he claimed to be a trader. The town he described sounded great. A bustling hub of trade and commerce. Drifting Wind found his way here often, as any supplies his far out were in high demand and could easily be sold or traded off. Surely it wouldn't be too difficult to find work, or earn some coin to buy passage farther west. Though it was his home, W'khan wanted nothing to do with the desert anymore.
'Little Ala Mhigo' That's what he called it. It seemed to mock it's own namesake. Ala Mhigo was the first eorzean country to be sacked by the Garleans and whatever refugees had escaped indoctrination somehow found their way here, to some hole they dug out of a mountain. It was filthy. The streets were lined with tents and trash, or even less. People just passed out in the dirt, or fucking behind a rock. Not another miqo'te in sight, surely any that might have been native to the region new better than to venture here. It was the worst W'khan had ever seen, a stark comparison to the village he'd left, but it was safe and it had trade. His plan was to barter a ride anywhere else.
First Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover
The sun beat hot as W'khan collapsed in pain. His rib felt broken but it didn't hurt nearly as bad as his pride. He couldn't carry on, and that was the worst part. He had been defeated, and it had happened too quickly for him to even realize what had happened. W'fhin wasn't even using a weapon. Two swift punches was all it took to take W'khan to a knee, and with that he was resigned from his position as nunh.
"It's over, W'khan Tia. This is what's best for us all. Please, let me find something you're more fit for."
Even now, when he should be reveling in his victory his voice was kind. His tone had no mocking sneer, but only radiated a genuine concern for each member of his tribe. But how could he stay now? He refused to believe any of the damage that had been done was his fault. No, he had been cheated somehow. There was no other explanation for such an easy defeat. He had been conspired against, and he wouldn't live with those that would plot against him. He'd prove he was better off without them by leaving, with whatever image he had left remaining intact. In his mind, perhaps he thought they'd realize they were wrong after time and his name would be remembered and told as a source of pride. Whatever the future held, he wouldn't be here to witness it. He was strong, and smart, and resourceful and surely he'd do perfectly well on his own.
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