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sea-and-storm · 2 years

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FFXIV WRITE 2022 Prompt #3: Temper (Ghoa)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------TRIGGER WARNINGS: Captivity/confinement, addiction, grief, survivor's guilt, fear of death, and just.. a lot of Heavy Shit(tm). ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The creaking of an unseen door and the sound of heavy, armored footfalls approaching roused Ghoa from her state of fitful half-sleep, pushing herself up from the makeshift cot upon which she had languished now for days.

As soon as looked in the direction of the footsteps' approach and her tired eyes once more landed upon the sturdy iron bars keeping her here, she felt her stomach churn with nausea all over again. After the series of events in the Steppe and those in Kugane that had brought her to Thavnair, the Mankhad still could not acclimate to her present state of captivity.. Even if it were wholly deserved and a dilemma entirely of her own making.

It had been nearly a week ago by her figuring since she had been detained by the Radiant Host and brought to the gaol, though it had seemed an eternity longer in her mind. Locked away in a cell with nothing to occupy her except for the unrelenting anxiety in the back of her mind, time crawled by with excruciating languidity. Kept in solitude away from others, her only company was the immense guilt that hung over her like a headsman’s axe.

If she had known then what she knew now, Ghoa never would’ve taken the commission that had landed her in this precarious situation. Yet she had been blinded to the potential repercussions by the promise of substantial coin - fuel to further feed the vices that she had fallen into in order to escape the specter of past failings that had returned to haunt her.

When the ghost of Ino had finally caught up with her in Radz-at-Han, she had first tried hard to fight against it. Yet she had found herself lacking the strength to withstand it whenever it came calling in her dreams, much less when its shadowy figure began to infiltrate even her waking moments. All she knew to do was that which she had done all her life: run away.

Leaving Radz-at-Han physically hadn’t been an option. The wages that Ghoa earned by her apprenticeship were enough only to eke out a modest living on top of the free lodgings and access to materials and tools it provided her. She hadn’t the same glut of coin at her disposal as she had when she had left Kugane, funded by Hisanobu’s guilt and affections. Besides, if this ghost had followed her here across the sea’s great expanse once already, it stood to reason that it would follow again no matter what distant shores she eventually found herself upon.

Ghoa knew then she had to flee in other ways. Drink and drug to numb her body and soul to the pains of the past. Companionship to replace the cold, dead eyes staring back at her in her mind's eye with those yet filled with light and life. All things readily available in this city of hedonism and plenty, if only one had the coin to afford it. And on a student’s earnings, afford it she could not.

After she had left Kugane, the young alchemist had told herself that she would no longer use the skills she had honed under Hisanobu’s tutelage. No more dealings within the seedy underbelly of a city that would eat her whole if only she gave it half a chance. No more succumbing to the siren’s call of the droves of coin to be had if only one were willing to set aside their moral compass. No more using her brilliance to do harm for profit when she was capable of doing so much good instead.

She had not only made that promise to herself, but to the very mentor that had taken her under their wing. But still, despite her intentions at the time, Ghoa had broken her word to them both.

As it turned out, illegal tinctures and tonics sold even better in the Near East than they had in Hingashi. The alchemical underground of Radz-at-Han was alive and well, buzzing with opportunity for coin. Even besides the locals, there was a constant supply of foreign traders looking to get their hands on such goods to smuggle back to their own buyers back home at an even heftier profit. An undoubtedly potent narcotic or poison crafted by the hands of a Hannish alchemist would sell for a small fortune in foreign black markets.

Though it had taken some time at first to break her way into this underground, break into it she had. She had had to keep her dealings discrete to the utmost degree, of course. Had her mentor learned of what she was doing, everything she had worked so hard for in Thavnair would be forfeit. Master Sarasvati would not suffer a pupil committing what she considered to be an alchemist’s blackest sin: the harming of others for one’s own gain.

At first, it had went well. Using the skills that Hisanobu had taught her to maintain the utmost level of secrecy, Ghoa had been able to keep her dealings hidden from her teacher, her colleagues, and her friends. But naturally, the occasional bender or visit to the pillowhouses began to lose its efficacy. She needed more and more just to get through the day without the ghost returning to her. The more she needed, the more desperate she became. The more desperate she became, the more reckless she had gotten.

Ghoa supposed she should have anticipated that eventually, it would take but a single misstep too far and her carefully crafted house of lies and sins would come crashing down around her. Yet even if she should have expected it, it did not stop the shock of just how violently and how swiftly her hidden life would implode in upon itself when finally it did.

The commission had seemed like countless others she had taken on, and by all rights it should have been. Whenever she was approached to concoct poisons for buyers, the Mankhad had made it a point not to ask too many questions. The less she knew about what a client planned to do with their purchase, the better.

Of course, in the beginning, she had at least vetted those buyers extensively to make sure that they were going to be just as meticulously careful as she was herself. Gradually, however, her unyielding insistence on quality, trustworthy clientele eased just so long as they were willing to pay her price.

This fellow in particular was willing to pay whatever she asked and then some. Ghoa didn’t even know his name, but the shine of his gil had been enough to convince her to agree to construct a toxin to his exactingly cruel specifications. And when she had finished, she had foolishly thought herself able to wash her hands of the unfamiliar man and his ill business.

That was, until a few suns later when the Radiant Host had dragged her from the lavish pillowhouse in which she had decided to celebrate a job well done and thrown her into this blighted cell.

It was only during their interrogation that she had learned that her client had been a trader who had sought to exact vengeance upon a partner that had taken everything from him when their dealings turned south. It was with Ghoa’s toxin that he, in turn, had sought to take everything from his former partner in kind.. beginning with his family. Yet when his crime of passion had taken its own misstep and he found himself caught, her client had been all too quick to offer up the source of the horrific poison to lessen his own punishment.

Last she had heard from the Host, the former partner’s wife and child were still gravely ill. She had been offered leniency if only she would surrender to them the antidote to cure them of their grim affliction. If only she had thought to concoct one, Ghoa would’ve been glad to give it to them. But her clients never asked for antidotes, and she wasn’t wont to waste her own time and money on something for which they would not pay.

All that she had been able to offer to them was the poison’s formulation and the mechanisms by which it worked. That was the last conversation she had had with them, and by their silence whenever she asked after their condition whenever the guard stopped by to deliver her meals, she hadn’t high hopes that it had done aught to save them.

By now, without a successful antidote, they assuredly would have succumbed to the poison’s effects. Given that the footsteps presently approaching her cell were coming between meal times, she assumed that it could only mean that someone was coming to inform her of this and to let her know her own punishment.

Would she be locked in this cell for the rest of her days, she wondered grimly. Or would the Host not suffer a woman whose concoctions had so horrifically killed an innocent woman and child to live herself? A shudder went down her spine at the thought of execution. Though once upon a time she had welcomed death’s embrace rather than to be dragged back to be at Bayanbataar's mercy, the thought of leaving this world for the next now when her soul was so heavily blackened with her myriad sins filled her with a dreadful fright.

Finally, the footsteps drew close enough to draw her out of her racing thoughts with another, more unexpected realization. There was more than one set of steps present, but only one that seemed to be weighed down by the heavy armor the Host wore. Accompanying it, she could discern two more gaits: one awkward and uneven, the other a short and furious staccato.

No, she thought as her blood went cold in her veins. Not them. Please, gods, not them..

But perhaps this was the worst punishment of all, and one the gods were intent to visit upon her.

Just as she had thought, the Radiant Host guard that rounded the corner to her cell was joined by two others. First was a stooped and hunched Raen man, his sallow face flushed with the obvious effort it had taken him to keep up with the others. In front of him was a figure far more frightening, though the older Hyuran woman was of far slighter stature than either of the men accompanying her.

Master Sarasvati Parikh was an alchemist without peer, possessing a professional reputation that was rivaled only by her notoriously foul, fiery temper.

In her youth, she had been recruited into the High Crucible of Al-kimiya to serve Radz-at-Han with her impressive skill and knowledge of the aetherochemistry of the human body. Eventually, she had taken up the role of teaching and mentoring the next great generation of Hannish alchemists in her chosen field of study. That was, until she had been approached by a group of peers with an opportunity not only to expand upon their knowledge in the realm of alchemical warfare, but great profit besides. They had wanted to use her knowledge as the base upon which they built the alchemical weaponry their would-be client sought from them.

She had not spared their feelings in expressing exactly how disgusted she was with each and every one of them for even considering it. Not only that, but Sarasvati had made it even clearer that any attempts to use her research in its pursuit would result in her withdrawing not only every single treatise and tome she had ever contributed to the Crucible’s archives, but also her considerable financial support. Though she dressed and lived in modest fashion, it was a well-known secret that she was a distant scion of the illustrious House Daemir and that most of both her earned and inherited fortunes she funneled right back into the Crucible her predecessors had founded.

Though these peers balked in the face of her threats and the deal had never come to fruition, her disgust that they had even considered it had been so great that she had never been able to put it aside. Her respect for those colleagues never returned, and it blackened the light in which she viewed at the rest of her peers as well. And so, Sarasvati had withdrawn not only from her role at the Crucible, but from the public eye near entirely to pursue her own good works in peace and privacy.

Any words that Ghoa might have summoned left her the moment her eyes met the withering, furious look cast down at her in her mentor’s own severe brown gaze. She tried to find something to say, some explanation or apology or..

“Leave us,” the elderly hyur snapped at the guard without ever breaking her glare. Though the man paused with hesitation, casting an unsure glance back at the equally uncomfortable Naseem behind her, he eventually offered a silent nod and stepped away to give them privacy.

Once he had made it out of earshot, the Mankhad scrambled to preempt whatever words were about to come.

“Master Sarasvati, I am–”

“You will not speak to me,” she interrupted in a hissing whisper that blazed with cold, bare fury. “You have squandered the right to address me ever again.”

Ghoa instantly wilted under the rebuke’s sting. She dared not utter another word, managing only a weak nod as she dropped her gaze in shame. Yet even looking away did nothing to soothe the burn of the incensed glare that she still keenly felt fixed upon her.

“It is only by the Manusya’s divine wisdom and grace that I was able to save that poor family from succumbing to your black-hearted works. Though still they will be suffering and struggling to recover for weeks, if not moons to come because of your selfishness..”

The breath she had been holding released in a shuddering gasp of relief at the news that the mother and child yet lived. But even this reaction seemed only to infuriate her master further, apparently under the assumption that it was her own wellbeing for which Ghoa had been concerned.

“Do not allow yourself to believe for even a single moment that I did it for the sake of your life or your freedom,” Sarasvati snapped. “I did it because I was the one who took responsibility for you, educated you, and gave you the tools that you used to harm them. I might as well have been the one to pour that poison down their gullets myself.”

“N-no,” Ghoa suddenly gasped despite herself, gaze snapping back up in wide-eyed horror at the woman. “It wasn’t your–”

“I said SILENCE!” she all but roared with such ferocity that even the Host down the corridor perked up with concern, but hesitated to approach and turn that ire towards himself.

“I labored without sleep for days because my conscience would not allow me to do otherwise. I was the one who created the monster that was nearly their undoing, and it was my moral obligation to save their lives!” She seethed openly, her dark cheeks red with anger, her hands shaking with barely contained rage. “If it were up to me, you would rot in here for the rest of your miserable days. Against my recommendation, however--” she spat the words out like they were the very same poison she had battled against, “--the Radiant Host has decided to release you back into my care.”

Ghoa foundered at that unexpected turn, uncertain what to say or how to feel. Truthfully, she didn’t know what hurt or terrified her more – the knowledge that her mentor had advocated for her continued imprisonment, or the idea of returning to her home with her. As if reading her very mind, Sarasvati’s gaze narrowed.

“You will never step foot inside my home again,” she snapped. “I’ve taken the liberty of having your belongings packed and set upon a ship bound for Eorzea that leaves at tomorrow’s first light.. Would that I could find somewhere even further across the world to fling you at such short notice.. I might rest easier with even more malms between us than that.”

Her stomach sank like a stone, and Ghoa reflexively found herself looking instead from her mentor to Naseem behind her as often it did when their mentor was in one of her rages.

While Sarasvati’s gaze held nothing short of hateful contempt for her, her friend and fellow apprentice’s bore only resignation and heartbreak. He knew of the ghost that haunted her and though he knew not exactly what ill dealings she had gotten herself into because of it, he had tried his hardest to pull her back from the specter's grasp. He had never harbored even an onze of anger or disappointment towards her for her weakness, but only the desire to help his dear friend. Yet for all his good intentions and efforts, Ghoa had disappointed him in the end, too.

“I understand,” she whispered as she slumped back onto the cot, head hung in defeat and tears beginning to well behind her eyes. For a mercy, at least, they refused to fall in their presence.

“Do not return to Radz-at-Han,” Sarasvati finally ended her tirade, her words no longer alight with fire but back to their beginning cold, smoldering intensity. “She will be far better without you darkening her doorstep again.”

Ghoa nodded weakly in resigned silence. Though she dare not speak the words aloud to the mentor she had held in such high esteem for the past five years, the one who had taken a chance on her when none others would even give her the time of day..

She promised then that she would not return to Thavnair, just as she was bade. And she would not break a promise she had made to Sarasvati for a second time.

#ffxivwrite2022 #restless seas #ghoa mankhad #ino ghostwalker #sarasvati parikh #naseem malakar #backstory #JESUS CHRIST #IT TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE THIS #nevermind the fact that I kept getting endlessly interrupted while writing and proofreading #leave me to my feels people!!!#and dog!!!!#lordt what a ride tho #HOPE THE CORRUPTION ARC DOESN'T TAKE THE CREW BACK TO THAVNAIR #CAUSE UHHH #:')))))))))

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sea-and-storm · 2 years

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CIGARETTES & FIREFLIES DRABBLE MASTERPOST -- - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

FIGHTING PITS ARC -- -

TOO LITTLE - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Nabi Kharlu, Elam Grave, Lehko'a Nhali.

TOO LATE - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Nabi Kharlu, Elam Grave.

EXPECTING THE WORST - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Elam Grave, Nabi Kharlu.

CROWDS - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Elam Grave.

THE PACKAGE - Hisanobu's Perspective MENTIONS: Hisanobu Mifune, Saya Mifune, Ghoa Mankhad.

GARDENIA - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Hisanobu Mifune, Saya Mifune, Elam Grave.

WEAKNESSES - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Elam Grave, Hisanobu Mifune, Nabi Kharlu, Anchor Saltborn.

DEAREST NABI - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Nabi Kharlu, Elam Grave.

INDISPENSIBLE - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Elam Grave, Nabi Kharlu, Anchor Saltborn.

OPPORTUNITY - Saya's Perspective MENTIONS: Saya Mifune, Hisanobu Mifune, Ghoa Mankhad.

DOUBLE OR NOTHING - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Elam Grave, Nei Uzuka, Saya Mifune, Shael Stormchild.

ESCAPE - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Elam Grave, Nei Uzuka, Musa, Hikomoro, Nabi Kharlu, Anchor Saltborn, Shael Stormchild, Tserende Valqirelle.

NEVER BEEN BETTER - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Lehko'a Nhali, Elam Grave.

FAREWELLS, PT. 1 - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Nabi Kharlu, Elam Grave.

FAREWELLS, PT. 2 - Saya's Perspective MENTIONS: Saya Mifune, Hisanobu Mifune, Ghoa Mankhad, Elam Grave, Nei Uzuka.

FAREWELLS, PT. 3 - Hisanobu's Perspective MENTIONS: Hisanobu Mifune, Saya Mifune, Ghoa Mankhad.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

FLOWER ARC -- -

LUCKY - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Lehko'a Nhali, Batuhan Kharlu.

PROOF - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Akhutai Khatayin, Arasen Kharlu, Batuhan Kharlu, Nabi Kharlu, Bayanbataar Kharlu.

NIGHTMARE (TW) - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Lehko'a Nhali, Ino Ghostwalker, Batuhan Kharlu, Nabi Kharlu, Anchor Saltborn, Shael Stormchild, Bayanbataar Kharlu.

COMFORT (TW) - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Lehko'a Nhali, Nabi Kharlu, Batuhan Kharlu, Anchor Saltborn, Shael Stormchild, Otsuyu.

STARLIGHT - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Shael Stormchild, Anchor Saltborn, Batuhan Kharlu, Nabi Kharlu.

FAVOR (TW) - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Lehko'a Nhali, Arasen Kharlu, Nabi Kharlu, Tugan Kharlu, Bayanbataar Kharlu.

BENEATH THE WAVES - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Arasen Kharlu, Anchor Saltborn, Batuhan Kharlu, Nabi Kharlu, Shael Stormchild.

CRUX (TW) - Arukh's Perspective MENTIONS: Arukh Mankhad, Ambaghai Mankhad, Ibakha Mankhad, Ghoa Mankhad, Chakha Kharlu.

MUSTER - Arukh's Perspective MENTIONS: Arukh Mankhad, Ghoa Mankhad.

SWAY - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Arasen Kharlu, Batuhan Kharlu.

ANSWERS - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Arukh Mankhad, Ibakha Mankhad, Ambaghai Mankhad, Unegen Mankhad, Galdan Kharlu, Tseren Kharlu, Maa Kharlu, Chakha Kharlu.

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CORRUPTION ARC -- -

REFLECTIONS - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Arukh Mankhad, Ibakha Mankhad, Ambaghai Mankhad, Unegen Mankhad, Arasen Kharlu, Batuhan Kharlu.

NOSTALGIA - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Anchor Saltborn, Naseem Malakar, Farrah Malakar, Bashir Malakar, Leila Malakar.

MISTAKES WERE MADE - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Nabi Kharlu, Egil Nylor, Estrid Nylor.

CROSS - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Nabi Kharlu, Egil Nylor, Estrid Nylor, Luri Kai.

CHANNEL - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Luri Kai, Nabi Kharlu, Estrid Nylor, Egil Nylor, Anchor Saltborn, Shael Stormchild.

YAWN - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Luri Kai, Nabi Kharlu, Egil Nylor, Estrid Nylor.

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sea-and-storm · 2 years

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BACKSTORY, AU, ETC. DRABBLE MASTERPOST -- - -

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BACKSTORY DRABBLES -- -

BOND - Ibakha's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Arukh Mankhad, Unegen Mankhad.

NOT A WEAPON - Ghoa's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Arukh Mankhad, Unegen Mankhad.

ATTRITION (TW) - Arukh's Perspective (The Steppe)MENTIONS: Arukh Mankhad

CLOSE - Unegen's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Unegen Mankhad, Baidu Mankhad, Bayanbataar Kharlu, Ghoa Mankhad.

CHOOSING, PT 1 - Ghoa's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad.

CHOOSING, PT 2 - Ghoa's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Unegen Mankhad.

RUNAWAY (TW) - Ghoa's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Yisu Kharlu, Togene Kharlu, Bayanbataar Kharlu, Tugan Kharlu, Sechen Kharlu.

HEARTBREAK (TW) - Ghoa's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Togene Kharlu, Bayanbataar Kharlu, Tugan Kharlu.

PRAYERS - Ghoa's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Cota Kharlu, Togene Kharlu, Yisu Kharlu, Bayanbataar Kharlu.

OFFERING (TW) - Ghoa's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Bayanbataar Kharlu.

ARUKH - Arukh's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Arukh Mankhad, Ghoa Mankhad, Bayanbataar Kharlu.

SURVIVAL - Ghoa's Perspective (The Steppe) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Saran Kahkol, Muunokhoi Kahkol.

THE CRATE (TW) - Ghoa's Perspective (Kugane) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Saya Mifune.

UNNOTICED (TW) - Ino's Perspective (Kugane) MENTIONS: Ino Ghostwalker, Ghoa Mankhad, Hisanobu Mifune, Saya Mifune.

MISS THE BOAT - Ghoa's Perspective (Thavnair)MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Dinesh Sutar, Sarasvati Parikh.

CONFLUENCE - Ghoa's Perspective (Thavnair)MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Sarasvati Parikh, Dinesh Sutar.

TEMPER (TW) - Ghoa's Perspective (Thavnair) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Ino Ghostwalker, Sarasvati Parikh, Naseem Malakar.

CUTTING CORNERS (TW) - Ghoa's Perspective (Thavnair / Eorzea) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Sarasvati Parikh, Unegen Mankhad, Bayanbataar Kharlu, Hisanobu Mifune, Ino Ghostwalker.

ONEROUS - Arukh's Perspective (The Steppe, Post-Flower Arc) MENTIONS: Arukh Mankhad, Ghoa Mankhad, Baidu Mankhad, Unegen Mankhad, Bayanbataar Kharlu.

TEPID - Arukh's Perspective (The Steppe, Post-Flower Arc) MENTIONS: Arukh Mankhad, Unegen Mankhad, Baidu Mankhad, Yesui Mankhad, Ghoa Mankhad.

HISTORY - Unegen's (?) Perspective (The Steppe, Post-Flower Arc.. sort of) MENTIONS: Khenbish of the Final Tempest, Sorocan the Stormkeeper.

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AU & MISC. DRABBLES -- -

ECHO - WOL!Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Unegen Mankhad.

FLING - Ghoa's Perspective MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Lehko'a Nhali

ROW - Ghoa's Perspective (Pre-Corruption Arc) MENTIONS: Ghoa Mankhad, Shael Stormchild, Anchor Saltborn, Nabi Kharlu.

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sea-and-storm · 6 years

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NIGHTMARE ; drabble

It started with a flash of lightning so bright that it was blinding, painting the entire world a featureless white in an instant. It was gone as quick as it came and color flooded back into the world, and only then did Ghoa realize exactly where she was standing.

Deep, dark blue waters stretched for malms unending toward the horizon. Waves crashed against a dark cliff face jutting out into the sea, sending plumes of gray-white foam high into the air. Soft, wet sand rested below her feet, turning to rocky pebble further upshore and finally to a lush, verdant green that carpeted the entirety of the fertile inner coastlands. A beach from her memory; not from her travels, but of home.

Except she didn't see it, not truly. A sense of recognition sparked familiarity, and memory had painted the picture from there. Only now, the usually serene beach from her mind's eye was being battered by heavy sheets of rain and roaring gales. Damp strands of her hair to whipped angrily about her, stinging her wind-reddened cheeks where they struck. Above her, a bright blue sky had given way to a ceiling of dark, angry clouds. Each time lightning arced across the sky, a peal of thunder like the roar of some ferocious beast rolled out over the waves.

Ghoa had never been afraid of any storm before, not even when she had been but a child. If anything, they had always brought about a deep sense of wonder and excitement and a sort of comforting familiarity within her. But now, as she watched the weather rage around her, apprehension and uncertainty began to twist her stomach into uneasy knots. Something was wrong.

Another bolt struck close by, bathing the beach in light, leaving the air almost crackling with static and smelling faintly of sweet ozone. Right on its heels came a clap of thunder so loud that she couldn't help but to flinch and recoil, hands rising to her horns.

Yet this time when her eyes opened and her hands dropped back to her sides, she was no longer standing there alone.

A handful of paces further upshore, a trio of Xaela stood. The rains made it near impossible to discern fine detail from her distance, but Ghoa could tell from their garments and their weapons that they were hunters. Her feet suddenly began to move forward in slow and careful steps, drawn in by some inexplicable compulsion. The closer she drew, still no flash of recognition came to her. Their faces, after all, were utterly bereft of features. Only an eerily smooth expanse of skin and scale covered where eyes, nose, mouth should have been.

However, there was something that she recognized now that she was close enough to see more clearly. Their leathers and their weapons bore the color and sigil of the Kharlu.

A cold, fearful shudder ran down her spine at the realization. Even though the only discernible movement she could see from them was the steady rise and fall of their chests with breath, even if none made any move towards her, her instinct still told her to flee. Despite it, her legs remained stubbornly still, as if frozen in place. She stared up at them in silence with wide, petrified eyes and they stared sightlessly and impassively back down at her.

Once more the lightning lit the sky and the world around them. Only now, the faceless hunters weren't looking to her. No, their heads were tilted downwards to something on the ground between them. Her own gaze slowly shifted downwards to follow.

Even before Ghoa could fully take in the sight, a part of her knew between the cloyingly thick and coppery scent of blood filling her nose and a touch of intuition aside. A gut feeling so full of dread that it couldn't be anything else. But when her mind finally managed to process it, her legs collapsed beneath her.

"No, no, no.."

Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, and she could couldn't even hear it in her own ears above the swiftly intensifying gales around her. A smattering of arrows had embedded deep into his back, causing the sand below him to pool and run in a sickening, dark crimson. Her shaking hands reached out to him, and an anguished cry left her lips the moment her fingers touched his deathly cold flesh. Too late, a distant voice called from the recesses of her mind. Gone. He's gone.

A wailing sob rose from between her lips as she fell forward, hands grasping at Lehko'a's body as she pressed her forehead against the scarred, and now bloodied, flesh of his back. Her whole body shook with the tears that flooded her eyes and the breathless aching in her lungs. The rain fell harder still and with it came an unnatural chill.

"Look at what you've done."

The voice was close and clear as crystal despite the rain and wind, as if had been murmured right against her horn in an empty room. Ghoa's attention snapped upwards at the unexpected, jarring words. Her tear-streaked face turned in the direction it had come from -- or what she had thought was its point of origin. Yet all that was present behind her were more sand and the sea beyond and the raging storm clouds blacking out the sky. Perplexed, distraught, she turned to look the other way. Still, nothing.

"Look at what you've done."

The voice was even louder this time, more insistently, and this time brought with it vague recognition. A woman's voice, familiar to her and yet.. It was right there at the tip of her tongue, but still, Ghoa could no sooner place whom it belonged to than she could find where it was coming from. All the same, the demand in that voice had her head snapping forward again in its apparent direction, her eyes falling back down to Lehko'a's prone body.

"Look at what you've done," the voice repeated, calmer this time. As it continued, it made no effort to hide the naked contempt in its words. "Poor, unfortunate soul. Did he even realize that he was just another expendable piece in these deadly games you are so terribly fond of playing?"

"No," Ghoa gasped, finally finding her voice again in protest. "No, it wasn't like that at all!" She didn't look up to try to find the voice this time, instead focusing her gaze on the Keeper in front of her. Her voice cracked with her next words. "I.. I love him. It wasn't any sort of sick game. It wasn't anything like that.."

Laughter bubbled up from the ethereal voice, cold and humorless and harsh enough to make the Xaela flinch.

"Are you so sure, Ghoa?" the voice insisted once the laughter died, a sharp edge to its tone. "You play this game so often.. Whispering sweet words into their ears, making them believe that you care, until they're so tightly wrapped around your finger that they would do anything for you. Until they so adore and cherish you that they would give their life for yours."

"No, it's not--"

"Or perhaps you've just grown so skilled in playing that you've even got yourself fooled? What a sick irony." A pause, and bitterness flooded the words that followed. "Did you convince yourself of the same when it was me whose body you were crouched over, I wonder?"

Another blinding flash robbed the world of form and detail for but an instant, and when it returned to focus, the body in front of Ghoa lingered. Only.. it was different. Mousy brown hair was replaced with shortly shorn locks of midnight. One furred ear and its mangled counterpart been swapped for two small, rounded hyuran ears instead. The broad figure of the man had given way to the smaller body of a lithe woman. This person was no longer Lehko'a, but another entirely whose appearance caused Ghoa's breath to immediately hitch in her throat.

Ino looked exactly how she remembered her. Not from the good times that they had shared, full of life and laughter and excitement and love. All of those memories had become overshadowed by the very last: the sight of her collapsing into a bleeding heap on the roadside as she had tried to get her back to the safety of Kugane. Her skin no longer warm porcelain, but ghastly pale and icy to the touch. The wit and mischief gone from her dark, dull eyes. Eyes that now stared, cold and lifeless, back at her.

"Look at what you did to me," the voice -- Ino's voice -- continued, thick with accusation. "Another pawn laying down its life to keep its beloved, crafty Queen safe. You let me die for you, to save you from the consequences of playing more foolish games with Hisanobu, and then you left me there alone."

"I didn't want to leave you!" Ghoa sobbed in answer, more sorrow and regret in her voice than her usual stubbornness. "I wanted to stay, but you told me to go! You told me to run!"

"And you believed me?" Ino's voice hissed sharply. "You honestly thought that I wanted to die there, cold and alone?" She clucked her tongue chidingly. "No... No. You're too smart for that, Ghoa. You knew I was afraid, but you abandoned me anyway. Because you don't care. No one has ever been more important to you than you. No one ever will be."

No answer or protest came this time. She only straightened from her place slumped over the other woman in anguish, hands rising to press against her face, to hold in the cries that bubbled up from the very pits of her despair at the dead woman's torturous accusations. She couldn't even defend herself. Maybe Ino was right after all. Maybe she really was just that good at what she did, manipulating even herself into thinking she cared more than she truly did.

"I'm dead because of you, and now so is Lehko'a," she pressed on, unrelenting. "So, tell me.. Who now, Ghoa? Who will be next?"

The lightning returned, and once more the figure in front of her changed. Ino had disappeared and in her place laid another. A tall Xaela man with long black hair, his hands only barely wrapped around the haft of an axe. Another flash, and the body changed again. Still Xaela but far smaller, a woman whose normally warm and cheerful golden eyes had turned dreadfully flat and hazy in the cold clutches of death.

"You convince us that you care for us, that you love us.. Do you even know what love and caring truly are? What they mean? How could you?"

The next arc of lightning came quicker on the heels of the last, and the clash of thunder accompanying it grew louder, more fierce in kind. Now the body belonged to a hyuran man with his bloodied sword knocked out of his stiff, reaching fingers. Another flash of white, and now wild, wet red hair was plastered to the freckled face of a hyuran woman, eyes fixed on Ghoa with a disapproving glare even in death.

"You'll never stop playing your cruel little game, will you? Why would you when it's not your own life you're wagering? You've nothing to lose, unlike us," Ino spat. "Where does it end, Ghoa? Or will it ever..?"

Once more the lightning came and went, and this time bodies scattered the beach around her as far as the eye could see in either direction. So many dead, so many lives cut woefully short because of her, that Ghoa couldn't even hope to count them all. Her head rolled back, her hands rising to press the heels of her palms against her eyes to block the sight. But even in the darkness, she could still see it clearly in her mind's eye, an inescapable sight that pulled a maddening scream from her.

"Look at what you've done, little bird," that voice called to her again, heavy with pain and sorrow and disgust. But it wasn't Ino's voice now. In the blink of an eye that it took her to pull her hands from her face and look back down, all the bodies had disappeared again, save for the very first. Lehko'a's mismatched eyes stared up, empty and unfocused, at her.

"I'm sorry," she answered in a choked whisper. "I didn't.. I didn't mean for this.."

"Monster," the voice snarled. "No better than him..."

"No better than.. who..?" she whispered.

The voice didn't answer. Confused, Ghoa's gaze rose, back up to the faceless hunters. Their attention had once more shifted, and now they stared forward at something past her. Slowly, she turned to see what it was.

No sooner did her turn complete than did a large, strong hand snap outwards like a viper strike to close tightly around her neck. Her eyes grew wide as her husband glared down at her.

"Monster," Bayanbataar repeated in a cold, hateful sneer, his grip around her neck tightening. "We deserve one another."

#Restless Seas #ghoa mankhad #drabble #nightmare #the ruins #lehko'a nhali #ino ghostwalker #batuhan kharlu #nabi kharlu #anchor saltborn #shael stormchild #EVERYTHING IS FINE GUYS #EVERYTHING IS JUST #P E A C H Y #NOT HAVING ANY TRAUMATIC POST-GHOST NIGHTMARES OR ANYTHING #JUST #HAVIN A GOOD OL TIME #:')))))))))

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sea-and-storm · 6 years

Text

UNNOTICED: Backstory Drabble

Had a slow work day and decided to spend it writing up a backstory drabble for Ghoa that I’ve had rolling about my mind for the past.. while. Nothing too important for current plot purposes, but it was cathartic to get it written down finally!

Trigger warnings for suicide mention. Nothing too explicit or detailed, but it’s pretty unambiguous what’s being referred to, so it might still make you feel uncomfortable if you’re sensitive to such content. It’s in the paragraph right under the cut, so if you wanna skip it just skip over that and you should be alright! Read with care, friends! ♥

[ SEVERAL YEARS AGO : Kugane ]

For almost all of her life, Ino Ghostwalker had excelled at going completely unnoticed.

Her apparent invisibility had started with her childhood, the middle child of three to two modest Hingan produce merchants. Her father had always focused wholly on her elder brother Takehiro, who would one day take over the family business in his stead. Her mother's attention had been devoted to her younger sister Chifumi, a sickly and frail little thing that had come into the world well before her time and had seemed to stay in poor health ever since. Acknowledgement had been scarce, and affection even moreso.

She had thought that things might change in the summer of her tenth year. A shipment had come in from Yanxia and with it had come a swift and powerful sickness that claimed the lives of her mother and both siblings. As if such a loss weren't heavy enough to bear, the Sekiseigumi had come to their home upon learning of what had happened to confiscate the goods. The sickness had to be stopped from spreading, naturally. Yet they hadn't stopped with only the goods in question. Anything and everything that they owned which they suspected of contamination had been put to the torch. Goods, clothes, personal effects.. Almost all of it had been burned to ashes, leaving them with next to nothing and only the barest compensation for the loss.

But there had been a morbid sort of silver lining in it all, or so Ino had thought. Even if it struck her with guilt to think so, she had thought that perhaps now someone would finally notice her. After all, her father no longer had a business to pass on and no heir to prepare even if he did. No more late nights would be spent nursing a sickly toddler to sleep. There was only her and her father, so surely he would finally acknowledge and cherish her.

She had been wrong, so very wrong. Her father had never recovered from the loss, only continuing to drift further and further from her with each day. Not even a full cycle later, Ino had returned one day to find him hanging in their home. She hadn't even bothered to report it to the authorities. Eventually a debt collector would come for one of the many bills they owed and it would be discovered. The note that he had left behind about "longing to return to his beloved wife and children" would make it apparent that there was no foul play involved. Even if they did suspect it? She had doubted that anyone even remembered that he had another daughter, or that they would recognize her face or know her name to search for her if they did.

Life on the streets had been tough, but had gotten a touch easier when she had found a new home of sorts. She had fallen in with a small gang of other orphans and misfits, banding together to make a life for themselves in whatever way they could. She had learned skills there that would serve her well for the rest of her days: how to sneak about, how to pick locks and pockets, how to sell the items she had pilfered. And for once, for the first time in her life, she had thought that being invisible could be a good thing.

Then Ino had met her.

Newly arrived in Kugane, the doe-eyed Xaela woman had clearly been out of her element. The thief had stalked her through the streets, silently observing her. She had seemed more civilized than the rest of her kind, at least, and she had some money on her person. Ino had watched the Au Ra barter for what seemed to be reagents for some manner of herbalism, and had rolled her eyes when the ignorant woman had allowed herself to be taken in each step of the way by the city's more predatory merchants. Like the sharks of the Ruby Sea, they could smell naivety like chum in the waters and hesitated not to seize upon it.

Ino could have made her move at any time, either "bumping into" her and snatching her purse or cornering her in an alleyway with a knife in hand. She doubted that she would have had to actually use it to get her to turn her coin over. This odd Xaela didn't seem half so cocksure as the others of her ilk that the sneak thief had met, more akin to a quivering little bird than a blooded steppe warrior. It seemed like only a threat of violence would be enough to cow her.

But she hadn't. Even if she had had every chance in the world to rob her blind and go on her way, she hadn't. Instead, she had just kept watching with growing annoyance and dismay as the woman let herself be taken advantage of by each greedy merchant. She gritted her teeth every time she had given them a tentative smile and thanked them before heading onto the next. By the time she had reached the last stall and handed over her last bit of coin, Ino had been positively livid. The final straw had come when she had followed her all the way back to the quiet street corner that the Xaela had decided to claim for herself, no longer having the money to afford even the most meager of lodgings.

Yet when she finally left, she couldn't get the frustratingly foolish woman out of her head. So she had retraced her steps, sticking to the shadows as she went from booth to booth that the woman had visited, swiping however much coin that she could. More, even, if the merchant had been especially vile in their swindling. And once she was done revisiting them all, she had returned to where she had left the Xaela and dropped the full purse in her lap along with a lecture and a demand for her to find a proper place to stay before some ill fate befell her.

It should have ended there with the same stunned, tongue-tied look people usually gave her when she spoke up and they finally noticed her. But it hadn't. The girl had followed her.

At first, it was innocent enough. Despite her exasperation with her, Ino had taught her new hanger-on about the city. Mostly she taught her the most general manner of things, like what was what and who was who and what was where. Now and again, she found herself teaching the other bits and pieces of the tricks that had been taught to her. How to survive in the shadows of Kugane, how to make a life in a city of people that would eat a person alive if it meant they could get even a single step ahead.

Eventually she became oddly accustomed to the company, and every day she would wonder if it would be the last. The girl was growing smarter than she had ever expected, taking to the lessons more quickly than she would have thought from that initial impression alone. She finally seemed to have her bearings about her and enough of an understanding of how Kugane worked that she could have easily made it on her own. Soon she would leave her, Ino was convinced, the same way that people always left her when she was no longer useful to them. The Xaela would be gone, and Ino would be back to being invisible.

Yet days gradually turned to weeks, and still she lingered. Weeks turned to months, and somewhere along the line, Ino had stopped expecting that day of her departure to come. Their being together seemed as natural and inevitable as the sun rising over the waters of the Ruby Sea each morning. Eventually, the months turned them to lovers and that foolish Xaela herbalist had somehow become more precious to her than anything she had ever stolen. With Ghoa, for the first time, Ino was no longer invisible. She felt she was no longer like a ghost, but a living and breathing person.

With her figurative return to life and the odd sense of exhilaration that it had brought with it had come new ambitions. No longer was she content to drift aimlessly and scrape by, but within her was a newfound desire to rise. With that desire came a want -- no, a need -- to finally be seen in earnest, to be acknowledged and respected by not only her lover, but by others.

And so, she had constructed a plan for them to make it big, for both her and Ghoa to rise from petty street crimes to something greater. The opportunity had presented itself when rumors began rippling about the Hingan underbelly of the death of the well-known and respected Hisakawa Mifune. With the man’s death, his family's once prolific drug business had passed on to his eldest son, Hisanobu. Yet no sooner had the mantle passed than had the family begun to fall upon hard times. Rumors swirled about suppliers failing to deliver and customers defecting. Competitors were beginning to barge into their markets and put the long-time staple of Kugane’s drug trade to ruin.

It was only natural that such organizations would rise and fall over time, but there was more to this particular story. After all, Ino had had firsthand knowledge of how said competitors had strong-armed their way in. Those she knew from the street had been running shipments from old Mifune suppliers to this new group in place of their usual porters, to try to keep the move hush-hush. If anyone knew that these weren't simply natural fluctuations in the market but a carefully manufactured power grab, it was her. And she knew how to prove it.

With the help of her lover's potions, she had crept unnoticed into the home of one of the family's prominent suppliers. The man had bemoaned problems from piracy to poor yields, but the ledgers that she had stolen and taken to Mifune Hisanobu had shown the truth: there was no shortage, and that all of the product that he had once sold under agreement only to their family for generations was now being sold at a premium price to their competitors.

The betrayal had been dealt with, and the new head of the merchant's family had seemed much more willing to honor their former agreement. In fact, he had even lowered their prices for a time as a way to show his deepest apology for his predecessor's greed. Once that example had been made, other suppliers that they had had trouble with slowly but surely seemed to be resolving their own issues. The Mifune family’s problems weren’t wholly fixed, of course, but it was a promising start on their return to glory.

But most importantly to Ino, she had accomplished exactly what she wanted. Hisanobu had been grateful for their work, and In exchange had offered them not only great compensation but a more permanent position among their business. The family could always use another set of eyes and ears in the shadows, he had told her. Even Ghoa would have a place among them, helping to produce and develop new drugs for them to peddle.

Things had seemed so perfect at first. Ino finally had everything she had ever wanted: money and success, recognition and appreciation, and someone to share both her bed and her secrets. But she should have known that nothing perfect lasted forever. That wasn't the way this cruel world worked.

It started with her own work for the family taking her away more often, to further places, for longer times. In her absence, Ghoa had been taken under Hisanobu's wing. With him guiding and teaching her as Ino herself once had, the Xaela had begun to develop quite a knack for the more intricate aspects of their business. Under his direction, she was cultivating a cleverness and charm about her that had helped him win over no small number of business allies.

It was clear that she was flourishing, and for that Ino should have been happy. But she couldn't stop the jealousy that swelled inside her like a rising tide every time she thought about it. Every time she came home to find Ghoa in Hisanobu's company. Every time she heard the rumors, passed about too often and too openly not to be true, of the pair of them sharing company as more than simply business partners.

Slowly, that feeling of invisibility had begun to return and Ino had embraced it out of spite and hurt. She took on more jobs and only returned to Kugane when it was necessary, and only stayed for as long as she had to. It gave her the chance to see more of Hingashi, of Yanxia, even going so far as the Azim Steppe on occasion. But it all felt so hollow, like she wasn't even there at all. Once more she was totally unseen, scarcely more than a shadow with a pulse. The name she had been given by the Mifune family as a badge of honor -- Ghostwalker -- now seemed more a mocking insult.

Months more had passed, and at the end of a long stint in Yanxia, Ino had once again returned home. Time to make her reports, get her next assignment, make her preparations, and leave again. Yet this time when she arrived, she had found Ghoa missing. Apparently no one had seen her in a week or so, and no one had heard mention of where she was going. Even Hisanobu was in the dark, distraught at the thought of his precious lover leaving him. That alone would have given her some measure of satisfaction had the whole thing not struck her as strange. Ghoa had it so well here. Why would she leave without a word to anyone..?

So Ino had delved deeper into the mystery and found the truth. She had learned of Hisanobu's viciously jealous wife's plan to have the interfering Xaela captured and sold off like chattel. She had learned where they held her, waiting for her buyer to make landfall and take her far away from them all.

And Ino had decided, for kami only knew what reason, that she couldn't let that happen.

Finding them in the small village outside of Kugane proper had been easy, and sneaking past the first guards at the perimeter even easier. Yet dealing with the last man stationed at the small outbuilding in which Ghoa was held was much harder. Ino was a spy and a thief, not an assassin and certainly not a fighter. But still, after a lengthy struggle, she had managed to kill him.

Upon prying open the crate, the Xaela inside had first pressed herself to the very back of it, cowering in fear. Only when Ino crouched down and cooed words of reassurance to her did Ghoa seem to realize who she was. Those silver eyes widened and instantly set to watering when she saw her, and that look had her chest feeling like someone had wrapped their hand about her heart and squeezed tightly.

Quickly, she ushered the weak Auri woman from her confines and set to their escape. It was slow-going, but eventually the pair had made it out of the village on the road back to Kugane. They hadn’t quite made it even halfway there when Ino’s shaking legs finally gave out from under her and she could go no further.

She had succeeded in killing the guard, but it hadn’t been without serious injury. The man's knife had sunk into her flesh a handful of times in the scuffle, and now the blood that had steadily been leaking from the wounds was too much to bear.

"No, no, no.."

She could hear the panicked whimpering of the Xaela as she dropped down next to her, could feel Ghoa’s trembling hands feeling for her wounds. Her eyes closed for a moment once she felt the twinge of aether washing over them, dim and weak, only for those hands to pull away with a hissed string of curses and sobs. The other had to know as well as she did that she was far too weakened from captivity to even hope to heal such grievous wounds.

"Shhh.." Ino tried to soothe her, reaching up to brush her hand against her cheek. "It's alright."

"Ino," Ghoa gasped, her voice cracking. "But you're--" Another gasping sob wracked her as she crumpled forward, leaning over her. She could feel the warmth of her tears dropping down, landing on her cheeks.

She opened her mouth to try to murmur some sort of comfort, but it was so difficult to summon forth the words. Even if she could, she didn't know what to say. Any time Ino had ever imagined what her final moments would be like, all she could picture were solitude and silence. She was prepared to go as quietly as she lived, to be unseen even in death. She hadn't prepared for this.

Further down the dirt path, she could hear the quiet, distant sound of voices calling out to one another. When she turned her head towards them, she could see the light specks of what she assumed were lanterns. A grimace settled onto her lips as she looked back to Ghoa.

"Go," she rasped.

"I can't," the Xaela sobbed. "Ino, I can't just leave you here. This is my fault. I have to--"

"Ghoa."

There was so much she wanted to say. Don't blame yourself, she wanted to tell her. I feel more alive right now than I ever have because of you. But that was too much. Too many words. She didn't have the strength for them all. There were only a few left in her, and so she had to choose them carefully. She had to make them count.

Ino reached up, carefully pulling the other down until their foreheads were pressed together. She sucked in as deep of a shaking breath as she could manage.

"I love you," she whispered, her hold loosening. "Now go." Her hand gently fell back to her side, and her last word to the other was pleading, desperate. "Please."

For a moment, it seemed like Ghoa would continue to stubbornly linger. But finally, she began to pull away. Though her eyes were losing focus, Ino could see the other’s lips moving. Vaguely, she could hear that she was saying something, but she simply couldn't discern the words. It gave her only the vaguest hint of annoyance that she would leave this world never knowing what she had said. But she suspected that she knew what they were all the same. That was enough. It would have to be.

As Ghoa finally rose to her feet, Ino closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her hurried footsteps growing fainter and fainter. Only some time later did she hear more approaching from the opposite direction, from the men in pursuit of them. Yet steeped in the shadows as she was by the roadside, not a single one stopped nor even slowed. The corner of her lips just barely pulled into a wry smirk at the ironic realization.

For the final time, Ino Ghostwalker went completely unnoticed.

#Restless Seas #Ghoa Mankhad #Ino Ghostwalker #backstory #drabble #tw: suicide mention #damn these FEELS #it's nabi and anchor's fault #they did this to me #blame them

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