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Keama was conceived in the heart of Desnind, shortly before her mother set out on her journey into the sea. Unplanned, the Sev’ryn mother struggled to carry her unborn child while aboard the vessel and even too, within the unknown lands she arrived at. However, in the quiet quarters of a healer’s hut in Ivorian, Keama’nya was born into the world. One would think the pair would return to Moseke’s homelands once the babe was birthed, but in fact, Tsaia had other expectations. She’d left her homelands to discover what lay in the unknown and find there, the piece of herself that had been missing all her life. Still young and unbinded by her familiar, Tsaia nurtured Keama and took her from place to place while seeking her spiritual half.
During this time, and because of travel, Tsaia became Keama’s teacher. On foot, atop horseback, or seated within a wagon, Kea was taught Xanthea speech and writing, along with broken common. When she could walk steady and talk well, she was taught how to set simple traps, the importance of hunting and survival, as well as how to sew the holes in her clothes when they formed. By the time the girl was six arcs, she could catch a handful of rabbits in a day’s time and light a fire within a couple hours.
While she missed out on long term friendships, Tsaia didn’t neglect her daughter the right to them. They would often linger in places for a few seasons if it appeared Keama had taken a liking to the groups of kids there. Rharne held a special place for the girl as it introduced to her a love for dance and entertainment that stole her away from her mother’s side several times a week. While the city had its own problems, the merriment of its citizens was much more noticeable than any other place Keama had been to. Though, at the time, she didn’t realize that might have been due to the excessive amount of alcohol they all consumed. Nevertheless, her and her fast-made friends took to practicing the dances they’d seen from passing shows or simple street performers. Sometimes, Tsaia would catch sight of her daughter’s odd flailing limbs and, while laughing at the ridiculousness of it, encouraged her time and again.
A day came once that saw Tsaia overcome by sickness, something that had lasted for an unusually long time. Her mental capacities were starting to become compromised and while she never told Keama what was wrong, it was clear that something deathly affected Tsaia. So much so that within the span of three days, they were packed and boarded on a vessel back to Desnind— a place the young girl had yet to visit in her eleven arcs of life.
Keama hated the roll of the waves, the salt of the winds, and the deep darkness of the sea. Her mother taught her to respect all life and the inevitable death that came with it, but Kea thought she could do without the ocean for one lifetime. For a while, the girl thought of the sea as an entity that might have been listening to her words of contempt. Why else would it send a storm to sink their vessel in the night and take with it, her mother? There were few survivors… Even fewer after several days passed. The two rowboats that made it over the waves without sinking that night were tied together at the ends by rope, but their passengers were slowly plucked away, if not by dehydration, then starvation. Being a child, Keama was offered food and water first, and was one of the last alive when a trade vessel found her roasted form crumbled in the boat. With nowhere else to go and no family to call her own, Keama was escorted back to Desnind and delivered to her mother’s family who were rather reluctant to take her in. All but one: her aunt, Abbana.
Abbana was a tall, sturdy woman with a strong, forward voice. At first glance, she appeared overbearing, but in truth, she was a gentle, approachable woman. In the village, she was a renowned healer and made visits to homes several times a day, some of which Keama was forced to accompany her on. It was a way for them to bond, a bridge that was slowly being built with each passing day. Keama mourned for many seasons over the loss of her mother, but with Abbana there to support her when no one else would, the pain of such loss eventually ebbed away. The young sevir started to trust her relative and eventually opened up to her about many things.
While the arcs passed, every season spent within the forests of Desnind brought on an unsettling, displaced feeling within the deepest parts of her being. Keama felt confused and ignored such emotions until agitation over simple things caused Abbana to call her out on it one day. “I feel like I don’t belong here.” Kea confessed. “They call me outsider when they think I can’t hear them.” In truth, it was much more than that. What she discovered one day from the ramblings of an elder made her blood run cold. Abbana had stepped out of the room to fetch more wood for the fire, but in that short span of time, Keama’s very existence was questioned when the secret of her father was let loose.
Degradation. Violent. A disgrace. Nonconsensual.
Could she believe such words as fact? Keama’s mother offered her stories of her father when she asked, pieced together an honorable man who died in combat many arcs ago. So why would she think any differently? However, truth and lies are offered with a heavy price— one strong enough to crack and break foundations. Conversation winding up, Keama’nya’s mention of her father bloomed tension in the air not present previously and it was then, she knew the elder spoke truth.
“I love you, as did your mother. No matter what the people may think, you will always have a home here with me.” Abbana promised, but even that wasn’t enough to brush away the icy clench around Nya’s heart.
She remained in Desnind for a few years thereafter, picking up the peoples fancy of drums and singing. Abbana even offered her lessons in medicine which Kea only followed out of respect for the woman. Remaining at arms length from everyone, there were few who she could call friends as each one was sent away, bound for a quest to find their other half. Was that what she was missing too? Why she felt so… empty?
Her body might have been rescued from the ocean, but some days, Nya felt as if her soul was still out there. Left to die like the rest of those bodies in the boats.
During the heart of Vhalar, her family elders called a meeting with Keama and questioned her of her bond with her familiar. “I have yet to find one.” She answered, watching their expressions shift into concern. “Have you had any visions? Dreams?” To this, a simple shake of her head roused murmurs next, some even questioning if she was pure-blooded to begin with. “We implore you to seek out aid with the priestess, Keama’nya. This is a path every Sev’ryn must take.” What of paths and journeys? What of quests of grandeur? What of steps taken? Why not stop? Had she stopped?
“You’re unbalanced.” The Priestess accused one afternoon when Kea finally worked up the nerve to go see her. “Such a thing deters connection. It leaves your mind unfocused. I’m sure that’s why you’re having trouble seeing what and where your familiar is.”
“How do I correct it?” She asked, but the sev’ryn elder merely sighed.
“My child, such an answer is hard to say. What troubles you? Start from there and work your way through. When acceptance and peace find you, so too will they.”
The elder was right, Nya thought. Such an answer was hard to say, but the more her mind played over the meeting, the more she realized the answers were with her all along. Keama had just ignored them, pushed them to the back of her mind to hide in the shadows there. The first step was to leave Desnind. For good. There was only Abbana and a select few who would miss her but they would understand her choice. She’d tried to grow roots here, but the soil was not to her liking and so, she had to drift. Unfortunately, that meant to the sea. The one thing she was most afraid of.
This fear was what stopped her. What she had to overcome with her own strength. It took many tries to venture out onto the docks and many more to commit to staying aboard the ships, but time and time again, Keama’s fear won out in favor of the safety of land. This was also how she met a trader by the name William Abernathy, from the faraway kingdom of Rynmere. At first, he was bemused by her anxiety, then curious. If not for his persistence when he would dock for trade in between seasons, Keama was sure she never would have worked up the courage to stay aboard. But she did, and once the line of land disappeared from the horizon, so too did her connection to Desnind, the last remnants of her mother, and the disgrace of her heritage. She would find balance in the world she knew. She would find peace in the places and people she loved. Before there was chaos. Before there was death and lies.
She would find her place in the world— and somewhere in doing that, herself.
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