(Continued from here...)
Nabi turned the small knife in her hand. The narrow steel blade was washed with a hint of a violet sheen, the only clue that it was coated with poison. Miss Ghoa’s words echoed in her memory.
"I'm not a fighter myself, but this has seen me out of more than a handful of sticky situations. The blade is coated with a poison I bought from a Mankhadi woman. It only takes a shallow knick and it's quick to slow a person's movements, but not strong enough to be lethal. It gives the wielder enough time to wriggle away and escape when things turn sour."
Nabi held the blade before her eyes, the flames of the small firepit lending it a foreboding glimmer. The Xaela replaced it carefully back into its sheath, then tucked it into the top of her boot, as she was shown. There was a pitting in her stomach at the thought of using it, or even consider needing it for that matter, but the affair with Elam Grave had left her with lingering worries.
Her first instinct was to go to Tserende, of course. He was the one she turned to when there was trouble, to make things alright and to feel safe. But something had stopped her. Elam Grave was her client, and it was not as if she had never dealt with difficult clients before. Whether it be an argument about costs (although that was rare, she was never known to be an expensive alchemist) or the effects of the potion, Nabi had always been able to open discourse with whomever was unhappy and eventually reach an amicable agreement.
But Elam Grave had reacted so suddenly and violently (even if it was only directed against a wall), just the memory of it gave her pause. She had known him to be a persistent sort, the Highlander was fond of twisting words and situations to insist upon his needs. He had been a generous customer nonetheless, and when she declined his offer of exclusive employment more than once, it didn’t seem to raise any true ire, only a hint of frustration. Nabi had not thought much of it, at least until now.
After his outburst, Nabi could not help but remember that Tserende’s first impression of the man seemed less than favorable. Was that one of the reasons why she felt more at unease around Elam Grave now? But was it the right thing to then, to turn to Tserende at the first sign of difficulty for him to fix her problem? It wasn’t fair for her to expect him to step in every time there was a conflict. He had told her he didn’t like relying on anyone. Perhaps she was starting to rely on him too much.
Nabi was wrestling with these questions when she had a timely visit from a woman she secretly admired. Miss Ghoa, a beautiful and worldly Xaela dancer and traveler who had visited her stall months ago, returned for a social visit. She was quick to notice the consternation that darkened her mood and so when asked, Nabi open up about all her worries to the Xaela.
It was Miss Ghoa that told her that Eorzean men often did not hold their liquor well, and while much like the Xaela males they all growled and beat their chest in anger, the westerners were far less likely to act upon it. Nabi could tell that Miss Ghoa was far more experienced than she would ever be, and she was willing to share with Nabi her well earned wisdom. She also did not like the idea of Nabi asking another male for help, especially if that could turn the situation more stifling or controlling than before.
Not that Nabi ever worried that would be the problem with Tserende. She suspected that Miss Ghoa must have had some past experience to color her view in such a way. Or perhaps the woman just had a strong pride in relying on herself and no one else.
Even so, her words did empower Nabi in some ways.
“Others might think they can step upon us, but no one should stop us from pursuing that which brings us happiness -- dancing, exploring, learning, potion making, or whatever else we set our eyes upon."
Nabi inhaled, filling her lungs with the evening air that rolled in from the opened window. She let out a long exhale, forcing out all the worries that had been troubling her mind in the last few suns. Nabi mulled over Miss Ghoa’s advice on focusing on what was important to her, in making her decision. Even if the concoctions were illegal in Eorzea, Miss Ghoa rightly argued that they weren’t forbidden in the East. Nothing was criminal in studying and working with them in Kugane, after all. And Nabi did enjoy studying new reagents.
Perhaps she was letting one drunken mishap on the part of a westerner to cloud her thoughts too much. After all, there were many other things she had to look forward to. Tserende and Shael (the latter somewhat reluctantly) agreed to take her with them on their next trip to search out relics and hidden antiques in Yanxia. Beyond that, there was the trek through the Steppe as Tserende worked on mapping the some of the region, with Akhutai as their guide. Months ago, she would have never imagined going on such exciting adventures. And yet now, with new friends and loved ones, she felt that her world was growing bigger.
Perhaps learning how to deal with stubborn, impatient men like Elam Grave was one of the price to pay for her new boldness. She straightened and lifted her chin. She could handle this.
Nabi swung herself out of her seat and rose, the walls of the clinic turning gold and orange as the sun began to retreat from the sky. As distant sounds of people retiring to their homes started to filter in from the outside, Nabi found her thoughts flitting about like a butterfly. As the day gave way to night with the promise of tomorrow, she too would look forward to what was to come.
A world of experiences she had never known awaited her. She just had to take it one step at a time.
Nabi turned the small knife in her hand. The narrow steel blade was washed with a hint of a violet sheen, the only clue that it was coated with poison. Miss Ghoa’s words echoed in her memory.
"I'm not a fighter myself, but this has seen me out of more than a handful of sticky situations. The blade is coated with a poison I bought from a Mankhadi woman. It only takes a shallow knick and it's quick to slow a person's movements, but not strong enough to be lethal. It gives the wielder enough time to wriggle away and escape when things turn sour."
Nabi held the blade before her eyes, the flames of the small firepit lending it a foreboding glimmer. The Xaela replaced it carefully back into its sheath, then tucked it into the top of her boot, as she was shown. There was a pitting in her stomach at the thought of using it, or even consider needing it for that matter, but the affair with Elam Grave had left her with lingering worries.
Her first instinct was to go to Tserende, of course. He was the one she turned to when there was trouble, to make things alright and to feel safe. But something had stopped her. Elam Grave was her client, and it was not as if she had never dealt with difficult clients before. Whether it be an argument about costs (although that was rare, she was never known to be an expensive alchemist) or the effects of the potion, Nabi had always been able to open discourse with whomever was unhappy and eventually reach an amicable agreement.
But Elam Grave had reacted so suddenly and violently (even if it was only directed against a wall), just the memory of it gave her pause. She had known him to be a persistent sort, the Highlander was fond of twisting words and situations to insist upon his needs. He had been a generous customer nonetheless, and when she declined his offer of exclusive employment more than once, it didn’t seem to raise any true ire, only a hint of frustration. Nabi had not thought much of it, at least until now.
After his outburst, Nabi could not help but remember that Tserende’s first impression of the man seemed less than favorable. Was that one of the reasons why she felt more at unease around Elam Grave now? But was it the right thing to then, to turn to Tserende at the first sign of difficulty for him to fix her problem? It wasn’t fair for her to expect him to step in every time there was a conflict. He had told her he didn’t like relying on anyone. Perhaps she was starting to rely on him too much.
Nabi was wrestling with these questions when she had a timely visit from a woman she secretly admired. Miss Ghoa, a beautiful and worldly Xaela dancer and traveler who had visited her stall months ago, returned for a social visit. She was quick to notice the consternation that darkened her mood and so when asked, Nabi open up about all her worries to the Xaela.
It was Miss Ghoa that told her that Eorzean men often did not hold their liquor well, and while much like the Xaela males they all growled and beat their chest in anger, the westerners were far less likely to act upon it. Nabi could tell that Miss Ghoa was far more experienced than she would ever be, and she was willing to share with Nabi her well earned wisdom. She also did not like the idea of Nabi asking another male for help, especially if that could turn the situation more stifling or controlling than before.
Not that Nabi ever worried that would be the problem with Tserende. She suspected that Miss Ghoa must have had some past experience to color her view in such a way. Or perhaps the woman just had a strong pride in relying on herself and no one else.
Even so, her words did empower Nabi in some ways.
“Others might think they can step upon us, but no one should stop us from pursuing that which brings us happiness -- dancing, exploring, learning, potion making, or whatever else we set our eyes upon."
Nabi inhaled, filling her lungs with the evening air that rolled in from the opened window. She let out a long exhale, forcing out all the worries that had been troubling her mind in the last few suns. Nabi mulled over Miss Ghoa’s advice on focusing on what was important to her, in making her decision. Even if the concoctions were illegal in Eorzea, Miss Ghoa rightly argued that they weren’t forbidden in the East. Nothing was criminal in studying and working with them in Kugane, after all. And Nabi did enjoy studying new reagents.
Perhaps she was letting one drunken mishap on the part of a westerner to cloud her thoughts too much. After all, there were many other things she had to look forward to. Tserende and Shael (the latter somewhat reluctantly) agreed to take her with them on their next trip to search out relics and hidden antiques in Yanxia. Beyond that, there was the trek through the Steppe as Tserende worked on mapping the some of the region, with Akhutai as their guide. Months ago, she would have never imagined going on such exciting adventures. And yet now, with new friends and loved ones, she felt that her world was growing bigger.
Perhaps learning how to deal with stubborn, impatient men like Elam Grave was one of the price to pay for her new boldness. She straightened and lifted her chin. She could handle this.
Nabi swung herself out of her seat and rose, the walls of the clinic turning gold and orange as the sun began to retreat from the sky. As distant sounds of people retiring to their homes started to filter in from the outside, Nabi found her thoughts flitting about like a butterfly. As the day gave way to night with the promise of tomorrow, she too would look forward to what was to come.
A world of experiences she had never known awaited her. She just had to take it one step at a time.
