This Thread is Now the Home for all of my stories that relate to events prior to A Realm Reborn. Â These Stories are included in my table of contents which I am maintaining in my Stranger in a Strange Land thread. Â
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One Late Summer Limsan Afternoon
Shamelessly inspired by Zhavi!
Kael watched from up the alley - a misty wind was blowing through the soggy streets of Limsa Lominsa that afternoon. It was late summer, almost early fall. For a refugee such as Kael, in his first year in the city, it was difficult to tell. He had been old enough to remember Ala Mhigo in its full glory in the final years of its independence. He had survived its fall, fleeing along with the nobles and the paupers, the family's carts stacked high with heirlooms, not yet pilfered by servants and ne'erdowells with baser things on mind than the preservation of tradition.
He spat onto the ground, that strange raised Limsan material, brick and concrete, hanging, suspended god-like, above the crashing waves below. It was covered with scum, the residue of so many uncaring inhabitants. These kids cared even less, they weren't supposed to be there, the city was closed to them. But on long days of idleness the kids had little to do but sneak into the city, and look for trouble.
Today trouble came in the name of Masters. At least, that's what they called him. Ala Mhigan's were big, renown for their strength and toughness. The damned problem was that Roegadyn were bigger yet, and "Masters" was no exception. His real name was some unpronounceable gibberish, but since he liked to lord over smaller folk, he adopted a pseudonym they could pronounce with a suitable pleading vigor.
Masters was rumored to be 16 years old. Too old for the street urchins; it was time already for the big leagues. But he clung onto his childhood with a death grip: among the urchins he had his own gang, but there would be no such glory as a lowly runner in a real street gang. Tensions had flared all summer between Masters, and those rivaling to succeed him. They always seemed keen for a fight.
Today Masters and his gang were busy throwing around a batch of stolen fruit. Apples, oranges, and other sweet, juicy delights. Kael knew he wanted some. And from his perch he waited, and watched, his own crew waiting nearby.
Then entered a towheaded girl, who could not have been yet, six years old. Baby-cheeked and innocent as she walked up the alley, she was watched by a dozen pairs of eyes. She smiled sweetly as she approached Master's group, watching the tossing of fruit with apparent delight, "Those look good, will you share? Can I have one" she asked with the plaintive demandingness of a child.
The girls voice gave her away, if the kids weren't already sure of it, they were now: she was just another damned refugee barging in on their territory. "And jes why'd we wanna share wi' the likes of ye?" the Hyur boy twice-her-height answered, scowling. Beyond the two, movement stirred along both ends of the alley; finally there might be some more excitement.
Baby-cheeks bit her lip, while twice-her-height took a deep bite of the apple, the fruit crunching under his teeth, as he chewed its sweet flesh with delight. "Its ta' good runt. Not givin' any ta the likes of ye, now get."
Kael's eyes narrowed, his muscles tensed.
The girl let out an anguished cry before making a leap toward twice-her-height, grasping at his arm and dangling from him, trying to wrest the fruit from his grasp. As feet from both ends of the alley sprung to action, baby-cheeks was sent with a crash back to the pavement, the fruit-munching twice-her-height lowered himself, and set the apple down, to deliver a swift retaliatory strike to the side of her head, lesson enough for trying to steal his stolen fruit.
Kael was 13 years old, a blonde and striking youth, he towered over twice-her-height as he raced to the girl's rescue. At his side were his younger brother, Osvald, 3 years his junior, but large for his age, and their friend Cedrix, another refugee who'd been in Limsa a few months longer than the brothers, and had been a sort of guide since they'd met. The three entered the scuffle with a vengeance, fists colliding with twice-her-height, sending the hapless assaillent flying against the pavement.
Masters' crew of boys and girls went to work: a swirling melee ensued. The Ala Mhigans were strong, but they were outnumbered. Beaten and bloodied they retreated slowly, having protected the girl, they inch backward down the alley, trying to protect themselves from the punishment that was to come. At last Masters made his presence felt, bursting through the crowd and delivering a vicious and decisive kick to the flank that left Kael sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath.
As the end neared for Kael, a yelling voice came clamoring down the alley. It was a local Miqo'te ne'erdowell known as "Dole" who came flying, and screaming toward the melee. "JACKS boys, the JACKS are comin'!" he aimed to run through the engaged combatants, such was his fear, but the outstretched arm of Masters caught him by the scruff of the collar. With barely a struggle, the massive Roegadyn pulled Dole before him, glaring at the boy's tiny features. "Ye tellin' honest, cat-filth? I'll kill ye if ye ain't."
The fear in Dole's eyes may have been manifested by Masters, or by the Jacks, or more likely a mixed terror of both. Regardless, it was enough to convince the Roegadyn, who still scowled as he tossed the Miqo'te to the ground. "GET!" he bellowed. The alley quickly cleared, wounded helped along by their own. Dole scampered away climbing up a wall and into another alley, while Osvald and Cedrix limped along with Kael until out of sight.
Kael sat upon the stacked boxes in the courtyard, bleary still from the blows he had sustained. He could hear the steady pitter-patter of rain falling from above onto the canopies that conveniently shrouded the spot, making it one of their favorite places to hide.
As they recovered from the battle, the word's of his father voice echoed through his ears, "Remember, son. Always lead. Do not forget who you are."
He squeezed his hand into a fist. It hurt. The pain didn't want to subside, the more he squeezed, the more painful it became. " If you remember anything, anything at all, always remember this: there are those born to lead. Born to bear that responsibility, to do everything that is necessary for their families, their lands, and everyone who follows them. That is who we are. That is who you are."
His father's hands were huge. He had always found them remarkable, like they could do anything, and protect everyone. He looked at his own, tiny still, and useless. "We've been dealt a cruel blow, but we must persevere. We are Ala Mhigans yet. And more than that, still." Those hands couldn't save Ala Mhigo. And they couldn't save the kids now, no matter how hard the man had tried.
Kael looked down at his battered army. Cedrix was bleeding from a gash to the side of his head. Osvald seemed to have it best, he always seemed to fight like terror possessed, and the worst marks upon him where the battered knuckles that had inflicted so much worse upon his foes. Dole was there too, licking his paws, his head throbbing where he'd been thrown to the pavement.
Into this inauspicious gathering, once more, stepped towheaded baby-cheeks. As she entered the courtyard with soft steps, the boys all smiled, while the brothers breathed a sigh of relief.
Kael slipped from his seat, landing on his feet, he walked slowly to the girl with an outstretched hand. He gazed at her worriedly, "I'm sorry they hit you... you know we didn't mean for that happen." She dismissed the concern with a warm smile as she looked up toward him with such affection in her eyes; a trail of blood flowed from a gash above her left eyebrow, framing her childish face. Kael swallowed hard, he'd never meant for her to get hurt. His eyes were a mixture of concern, and anticipation,"Aya?" he asked, "Did you get them...?"
Baby-cheeks let down the folded hem of her smock, showing the bounty of apples, oranges, and fruit. Cedrix and Osvald leaned forward, their eyes staring widely at the sweet feast before them, Dole just licked his lips. Kael patted his little sister's head, "Aya--you pick first this time."
She could not contain her grin, and neither could he. It was just another late summer afternoon, under the rainy skies of Limsa Lominsa.
Shamelessly inspired by Zhavi!
Kael watched from up the alley - a misty wind was blowing through the soggy streets of Limsa Lominsa that afternoon. It was late summer, almost early fall. For a refugee such as Kael, in his first year in the city, it was difficult to tell. He had been old enough to remember Ala Mhigo in its full glory in the final years of its independence. He had survived its fall, fleeing along with the nobles and the paupers, the family's carts stacked high with heirlooms, not yet pilfered by servants and ne'erdowells with baser things on mind than the preservation of tradition.
He spat onto the ground, that strange raised Limsan material, brick and concrete, hanging, suspended god-like, above the crashing waves below. It was covered with scum, the residue of so many uncaring inhabitants. These kids cared even less, they weren't supposed to be there, the city was closed to them. But on long days of idleness the kids had little to do but sneak into the city, and look for trouble.
Today trouble came in the name of Masters. At least, that's what they called him. Ala Mhigan's were big, renown for their strength and toughness. The damned problem was that Roegadyn were bigger yet, and "Masters" was no exception. His real name was some unpronounceable gibberish, but since he liked to lord over smaller folk, he adopted a pseudonym they could pronounce with a suitable pleading vigor.
Masters was rumored to be 16 years old. Too old for the street urchins; it was time already for the big leagues. But he clung onto his childhood with a death grip: among the urchins he had his own gang, but there would be no such glory as a lowly runner in a real street gang. Tensions had flared all summer between Masters, and those rivaling to succeed him. They always seemed keen for a fight.
Today Masters and his gang were busy throwing around a batch of stolen fruit. Apples, oranges, and other sweet, juicy delights. Kael knew he wanted some. And from his perch he waited, and watched, his own crew waiting nearby.
Then entered a towheaded girl, who could not have been yet, six years old. Baby-cheeked and innocent as she walked up the alley, she was watched by a dozen pairs of eyes. She smiled sweetly as she approached Master's group, watching the tossing of fruit with apparent delight, "Those look good, will you share? Can I have one" she asked with the plaintive demandingness of a child.
The girls voice gave her away, if the kids weren't already sure of it, they were now: she was just another damned refugee barging in on their territory. "And jes why'd we wanna share wi' the likes of ye?" the Hyur boy twice-her-height answered, scowling. Beyond the two, movement stirred along both ends of the alley; finally there might be some more excitement.
Baby-cheeks bit her lip, while twice-her-height took a deep bite of the apple, the fruit crunching under his teeth, as he chewed its sweet flesh with delight. "Its ta' good runt. Not givin' any ta the likes of ye, now get."
Kael's eyes narrowed, his muscles tensed.
The girl let out an anguished cry before making a leap toward twice-her-height, grasping at his arm and dangling from him, trying to wrest the fruit from his grasp. As feet from both ends of the alley sprung to action, baby-cheeks was sent with a crash back to the pavement, the fruit-munching twice-her-height lowered himself, and set the apple down, to deliver a swift retaliatory strike to the side of her head, lesson enough for trying to steal his stolen fruit.
Kael was 13 years old, a blonde and striking youth, he towered over twice-her-height as he raced to the girl's rescue. At his side were his younger brother, Osvald, 3 years his junior, but large for his age, and their friend Cedrix, another refugee who'd been in Limsa a few months longer than the brothers, and had been a sort of guide since they'd met. The three entered the scuffle with a vengeance, fists colliding with twice-her-height, sending the hapless assaillent flying against the pavement.
Masters' crew of boys and girls went to work: a swirling melee ensued. The Ala Mhigans were strong, but they were outnumbered. Beaten and bloodied they retreated slowly, having protected the girl, they inch backward down the alley, trying to protect themselves from the punishment that was to come. At last Masters made his presence felt, bursting through the crowd and delivering a vicious and decisive kick to the flank that left Kael sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath.
As the end neared for Kael, a yelling voice came clamoring down the alley. It was a local Miqo'te ne'erdowell known as "Dole" who came flying, and screaming toward the melee. "JACKS boys, the JACKS are comin'!" he aimed to run through the engaged combatants, such was his fear, but the outstretched arm of Masters caught him by the scruff of the collar. With barely a struggle, the massive Roegadyn pulled Dole before him, glaring at the boy's tiny features. "Ye tellin' honest, cat-filth? I'll kill ye if ye ain't."
The fear in Dole's eyes may have been manifested by Masters, or by the Jacks, or more likely a mixed terror of both. Regardless, it was enough to convince the Roegadyn, who still scowled as he tossed the Miqo'te to the ground. "GET!" he bellowed. The alley quickly cleared, wounded helped along by their own. Dole scampered away climbing up a wall and into another alley, while Osvald and Cedrix limped along with Kael until out of sight.
Kael sat upon the stacked boxes in the courtyard, bleary still from the blows he had sustained. He could hear the steady pitter-patter of rain falling from above onto the canopies that conveniently shrouded the spot, making it one of their favorite places to hide.
As they recovered from the battle, the word's of his father voice echoed through his ears, "Remember, son. Always lead. Do not forget who you are."
He squeezed his hand into a fist. It hurt. The pain didn't want to subside, the more he squeezed, the more painful it became. " If you remember anything, anything at all, always remember this: there are those born to lead. Born to bear that responsibility, to do everything that is necessary for their families, their lands, and everyone who follows them. That is who we are. That is who you are."
His father's hands were huge. He had always found them remarkable, like they could do anything, and protect everyone. He looked at his own, tiny still, and useless. "We've been dealt a cruel blow, but we must persevere. We are Ala Mhigans yet. And more than that, still." Those hands couldn't save Ala Mhigo. And they couldn't save the kids now, no matter how hard the man had tried.
Kael looked down at his battered army. Cedrix was bleeding from a gash to the side of his head. Osvald seemed to have it best, he always seemed to fight like terror possessed, and the worst marks upon him where the battered knuckles that had inflicted so much worse upon his foes. Dole was there too, licking his paws, his head throbbing where he'd been thrown to the pavement.
Into this inauspicious gathering, once more, stepped towheaded baby-cheeks. As she entered the courtyard with soft steps, the boys all smiled, while the brothers breathed a sigh of relief.
Kael slipped from his seat, landing on his feet, he walked slowly to the girl with an outstretched hand. He gazed at her worriedly, "I'm sorry they hit you... you know we didn't mean for that happen." She dismissed the concern with a warm smile as she looked up toward him with such affection in her eyes; a trail of blood flowed from a gash above her left eyebrow, framing her childish face. Kael swallowed hard, he'd never meant for her to get hurt. His eyes were a mixture of concern, and anticipation,"Aya?" he asked, "Did you get them...?"
Baby-cheeks let down the folded hem of her smock, showing the bounty of apples, oranges, and fruit. Cedrix and Osvald leaned forward, their eyes staring widely at the sweet feast before them, Dole just licked his lips. Kael patted his little sister's head, "Aya--you pick first this time."
She could not contain her grin, and neither could he. It was just another late summer afternoon, under the rainy skies of Limsa Lominsa.
![[Image: 21282370099_a814a08664_o.png]](https://farm1.staticflickr.com/590/21282370099_a814a08664_o.png)
