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[Bløød and Sand]
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Music -
What does it mean to be an Ala Mhigan?
It's rarely an academic question. Â Rather, it seems to cut to the bare bone in a way few others are capable.
Big, dumb, trouble, vagrant, lazy. Refugee.
Tough, strong, iron-willed. Â Dangerous.
Every Ala Mhigan to be found in free land has abandoned his homeland in one way or another. Â That seems to be the rub. Â The salt in the wound. Â Its left a mark that doesn't want to rub off. Â And every Ala Mhigan know is, whether they'll admit it or not. Â
Some its never seemed to bother.
Minding his shop, the smithy Osvald is as happy and satisfied as he will be. Â As Ishgardian as he is Ala Mhigan, he was young enough to adjust, adapt, and start over. Â He found his life's calling in a trade. Â He'll be happy as long as he practices. Â Wherever that may be.
To others it meant opportunity; a fresh start without all the strictures of established society.
Raubhan, the mighty warrior become General. Â Never could he have found such power and influence in the land of his birth.
The red-haired Bohanon, wild and free as he roams the streets of Ul'dah ruling the city a block at a time with the gang.
But for some it means a past that can never be forgotten. Â One to be clung to, and whose recovery brings all other priorities into question.
Kael has never forgotten the family estate. Â Never relinquished the claim to that which would be his. Â Entering middle-age he dreams of abandoning his young Ishgardian family to strive for glory and revenge in the homeland. Â To restore honor to their name, and return to their rightful place where their ancestors fought and died.
And for others? Â It is a duty that demands nothing short of a zealous self-sacrifice. Â No greater cause could exist than revenge for the crime inflicted upon the nation and people. Â There is no chip too big for their shoulders. Â No excuse for a life outside the resistance; for the direction of any effort that is not targeted against the Garlean occupiers.
Eva, red-haired and fierce. Â She has trained all her life for but one purpose: to return Ala Mhigo to its people. Â To expel, and destroy the Garleans. Â Prepared to die, there could be no more righteous cause in life.
Then, there are those who wish they were like them. Â
Heji, is her name. Â 'Hellion' more commonly. Â An Ala Mhigan in the classic mold: Â tall, powerful, fierce as the wind that batters that highland realm. Â She's known on the Sands for her strength and body--for her war cry, and ruggedness. Â But there's more to her than that: honed technique, experience, and a certain grace that under girds the ferocity. Â Â
She's been a friend of mine for a long time. Â We were rivals once upon a time. Â When my career was ending, and hers just beginning. Â We won't discuss the record. Â We don't mention it any more.
Vision stirring. Â Everything is...
I've taken a new student some while back. Â And when she asked about unarmed training I knew there was no one better to engage for instruction. Â That's when I introduced the Hellion to the Fox. Â
There was the Hellion, well over six foot of sculpted muscle. Â One side of her head shaved. Covered with menacing tattoos. Â And the Fox - with her manicured nails, and figure fit for sculpture. Â
Red. Is that blood? My blood? Its all over the sand...
I won't admit to being wrong. Â No, there was no better education I could have offered. Â The Fox is a quick student, though I'd have never believed it when I first met her. Â Neither as dainty nor as foolish as she seems.
Numb... numb... bleary...
But as the Hellion landed another blow I knew it had gone too far. Â An instructor doesn't land a punishing blow against a helpless student. Â Not with this sort of viciousness.
Not long into this session she'd taken the Fox down with a quick sweep. Â It wasn't exactly a fair strike, from a professional with hundreds of bouts worth of experience, against a student focused on learning. Â And then she'd shifted gears, using the woman's momentary helplessness to force her into a blind submission with her fist. Â
........
"Enough!" Â I leapt from the stone where I'd been observing and strode out toward the pair. Â "Enough!" I hollered again. Â But the woman responded with yet another blow, this one directly to the face.
This, you must understand, was strictly against the terms of our employment. Â The Fox makes her living with her face, more than anything, and she hadn't wanted to risk her living for this. Â Not yet, at least. Â
Sure, I threatened her about it all the time. Â She didn't wear any protection. Â It raised the stakes. Â Kept her on her toes, as it were. Â But my threats were for show. Â To make her worry. Â To make her work harder. Â To keep her on edge. Â This was altogether different. Â This was punishment.
"Damnit, Heji! Â Enough already, you know she's the one paying you!"
The woman did stop. Â In a sense. Â She turned her attention to me. Â Rage burning in fierce eyes. Â "I'd do this for free, old man. Â Its what this bitch deserves!"
For Twelve's sake. Â There's not enough gil in Lolorito's vaults for this.
"What the hells are you on about, woman!? Â Get off her already!"
By now Lunk had started up too. Â The big guy was always a little slow to get on his feet. Â I knew I might need the reinforcement.
"Thinking she should just dance around the desert, looking pretty for all these gods-damned money-bags while we're fighting; Â DYING! for our homeland!" The Hellion had raised her voice to a shout. Â Just short of the war cry that had made her famous. Â
I raised my oaken stick - what sort of weapon is that against a mistress of the unarmed arts you might ask? Lets not discuss the record of our past matches, okay? - and then I slammed it into the ground as hard as I could. Â That finally startled her into jumping to her feet.
What was... that... sound... why can't I see?
This was just fantastic, really. Â Why am I always surrounded by Ala Mhigans with all the damned chips on their shoulders? Â Everywhere I go it seems to be Ala Mhigans everywhere, and not a one of them seems to have any sense!
"What sort of stupid shit is this?" I asked, incredulous. Â "Why aren't you out at Baelsar's Wall if its so important to you?"
With that she took a mighty swing my way. Â I won't say that it was unexpected. Well, not entirely. Â The breeze that brushed against my cheek told me everything I had to know about her earnestness.
"My brother just died up there, you son of a bitch!"
Well. Â This didn't seem like it was going to end well. Â Where the hell was Lunk any... the sound of his mailed fist smashing into the Hellion gave me some joy, I'll freely admit.
I... can...
For a moment she sprawled onto the ground, and the big fella recoiled at what he'd done. Â It wasn't his style to gang up on someone, especially not a woman.
The Hellion spit blood. Â She'd have it no other way. Â Rising to her feet she wiped her forearm along her lips. Â "Oh so now you want to fight, huh, fuck head? Â Going to defend your fairy princess, is that it?" Â She snarled. Â It wasn't a pleasant look, that one.
"You know, there's one thing you just don't seem to understand." Â I said, as calmly as I could muster. Â "Oh, what's that old man?" she glared at me. Â I rested on my oaken stick. Â "She may look a might weak. Â But she likes nothing more than being underestimated. And..."
"She's a spoiled bitch..."
"She doesn't give up," I finished.
"... just a bitch who's forgotten where she came! And I'm going to fuckin' give her a reminder she'll never forget!" Â The Hellion turned to look for the princess. Â But she never quite found her. Â
The form of the kick was, I must say, perfect. Â She'd been taking her lessons well. Â The snap of her lower leg was directed precisely into tho back of the Hellion's knee. Â The larger woman crumpled in a surprised instant.
But its not the initial strike that is the most important. Â The Hellion always stresses this. Â First you disrupt balance. Â You create the opening that allows you to get inside their defenses. Â Once inside it was the next move that was the most important. Â It must be aimed for victory, whatever the goal of the bout. Â From a pin, to a deathblow. Â It really didn't matter what the end result was, this was always the moment to strike for it. Â The lesson always seemed to sit well with the Fox. Â She'd told me once upon a time she'd lived among Wolves, and they taught her the same lesson. Â I had an inkling of what she meant.
As the Hellions back touched the sand her assailant had already pounced. Â Her entire body was in the air. Â One arm locked the other in place. Â It was a fore-arm drop, aimed to the momentarily helpless woman's throat. Â With her full weigh behind it, it could have been the end. Â A crushed wind pipe and a painful death.
The strike was pulled at the last moment. Â Instead the Fox locked her arm around the woman's neck. Â As the Hellion struggled against the sleep-hold a terrifying grin took hold of her curled lips.
"So.. she has fight in her..." she rasped before passing out. Â
We walked back toward the city in some silence. Â Lunk helped the Fox along, with that gentle concern of his. Â The price for the day's lesson had been steep. Â No poultice would handle this. Â No mere cosmetic could disguise the punishment suffered by her usually smiling features. Â We'd thrown her cloak over her as best we could. Â Not that anyone likely would have recognized her in this state.
"You're going to need a healer..." I suggested, hoping she already knew of one to visit.
"I know who..." she replied. Â And off we went.
For some, to be Ala Mhigan is little more than an accident of fate. Â To others, it is the very meaning of life itself. Â But none who bear that name can fail to consider its importance. Â To them. Â To others. Â
What of the Fox? Â Politics where never her game, as much a I could gather. Â She cares about people. Â A smile means more to her than an army. Â A satisfied life: in Ishgard, in Ul'dah, in Ala Mhigo, more than any ancient banner or name. Â The future more than history. Â
That's my take, at least. Â But maybe you should just try asking her.
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