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paintedscales · 8 months

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002.1 Esenaij

Life on the Steppe for Esenaij had a routine to it centered around the goals he made for himself at a young age. He has seen to them diligently and with a sense of steeled determination. After all, if he refused to, he would hate to think about how life would have been for what family he has left.

Warnings: Character death, death of a family member

Word Count: 2,781

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

Esenaij -- a boy of ten and four summers -- stood at the bedside, his mother laying there, bundled up within the sheets and her breathing shallow and strained. He had been in charge of making sure the woman had a cooling cloth on her head, and that she drank plenty of water during whatever sickness she had been combating. It was nearly the only job he had while his younger sister was made to wash and cut fruit that were easier to eat when their mother was lucid enough to do so.

As it stood, they had heard their mother coughing and wheezing over the last couple weeks, and her condition had only been getting worse since their last migration. What everyone thought was a simple cold that could go away with some hydration, rest, and careful monitoring had become a worrying process of ensuring that the woman had been attended and watched over at different bells of the day.

It seemed like no one knew what to do as she got sicker and sicker. All that they managed was applying what remedies worked in the past while suppressing the ever rising worry when they seemed to do nothing.

"When is father coming back, Esenaij…?" Bayarmaa asked as she brought over a small plate of fruit to the bedside. Worry was evident on her face as she gazed up at Esenaij, hoping for an answer that indicated a short amount of time.

“When he’s concluded his hunt,” Esenaij briefly replied. He had been doing his best to remain as placid and strong as possible so as to not instill more possible fear within his younger sister. As the eldest one there aside from their ailing mother, he had taken it upon himself to stand strong -- to not allow his emotions to overcome him as he took care of their mother as well as took care of whatever needs that Bayarmaa required that their mother or father typically did for them.

It had all been taxing work.

Esenaij and Bayarmaa tended to the chores their mother usually did. Clothes and towels had been washed and taken outside to dry, as had dirtied sheets in the time that their mother had been bedridden. Potted plants had been cared for, being carefully watered and softly talked to -- something their mother did and claimed would make the plants stronger. Esenaij had also helped Bayarmaa to sweep the ger, ridding it of dust and loose soil so it did not rise into the air to further irritate their mother.

When the ache of his muscles burned in Esenaij’s body, he still refused to sit idle. He bade Bayarmaa to rest and get herself off her feet, meanwhile he had continued with organizing different items within the ger while keeping tabs on their mother. Anything to keep his hands and mind busy. He had started to grow anxious and irritated with further worry as the sky started its change from blue to orange.

Their father had still not been back from his hunt.

Esenaij had soaked the cloth upon his mother’s head in fresh, cool water once more before laying it upon her forehead once again. In her slumber, he brought his knuckles to the flesh no scales obscured upon her neck and grit his teeth. She was still burning.

“Dammit…” Esenaij growled under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Bayarmaa asked, having gotten up from where she had been sitting at the table. She had busied herself with practicing how to write, though now her utensils laid on the table, splayed out in a disorderly fashion.

Heading for the door with a quick pace to his step, Esenaij paused and looked back at Bayarmaa.

“Mother needs help. More than what we can give her. I’m going to Turakina and her family. Maybe…maybe they’ll know what to do,” Esenaij replied, gripping the handle of the door tightly. He was doing everything to keep the panic and fear out of his voice, and certainly off his face as he steeled his expression. “Stay here, watch over mother for the both of us, Bayarmaa.”

Opening the door, he walked out of the ger before Bayarmaa could open her mouth in order to protest. If she kept him any longer, Esenaij felt that any further inaction was merely endangering their mother more. He walked with purpose before breaking into a run toward one of the ger situated further away. Once there, he opened the door suddenly, panting and holding back those continued feelings of anxiety and alarm over everything that had been going on.

"Esenaij!?" an elder woman exclaimed, standing. A little girl was standing behind her; the girl looked briefly excited at Esenaij’s arrival before her expression quickly fell at the mood he brought with him. Meanwhile, the woman strode forward, looking over Esenaij and making sure he was not in physical distress.

"Miss…Miss Jaliqai…" Esenaij choked out. Whether it was because he was panting, or because he finally felt that stinging sensation of tears in his eyes, his breath stuttered. "Please, you have…you have to help my mother… Please…"

"Slow down, Esenaij…" Jaliqai softly urged, bringing a hand up and brushing disheveled locks of hair from his face. Her eyes darted to and fro over his face, searching his expression and assessing his distress. Keeping herself calm, Jaliqai continued: “breathe in, collect yourself, and then tell me what you need as best you can.”

Sniffling, Esenaij felt his lip tremble before he took a breath in and slowly breathed out. The tightness of his throat impeded his want to speak up, but eventually opened his mouth and said, “... Mother’s been sick. For…for the last few days, she’s only been getting worse. A-and…and father hasn’t returned from his hunt to feed us. Feed mother. She’s all alone with Bayarmaa and me…and we just don’t know how to take care of her the way she needs us to!”

Jaliqai was silent for a moment before she stood up, withdrawing her hand and then looking back at the little girl that had also been within the ger. Jaliqai’s expression hardened with concern. Striding over toward where some jars were kept on a shelf, Jaliqai stood on her tiptoes briefly to retrieve a woven basket before gathering some of the jars and pots to place within it.

Hurrying toward the door, Jaliqai paused and then knelt down next to the little girl. Smiling as warmly as she could manage toward the girl, Jaliqai tucked a few stray locks of hair behind one of the girl's little horns. The girl looked at her, worried, her eyes flicking every now and then in Esenaij’s direction. Jaliqai rubbed her shoulders reassuringly before saying, "Turakina, stay here for me, okay? If you need me, you remember where Esenaij and Bayarmaa’s ger is, right?"

Turakina nodded her head, a soft 'mhm' hummed in acknowledgement. She then looked at Esenaij. "I hope everything will be okay…"

"... Me too…" Esenaij said in response, his brow furrowing with concern, uncertainty, and sadness as his lips tightened into a frown. Looking at Jaliqai as she placed a hand upon his shoulder once she rose back up onto her feet, he moved forward as she ushered him back outside. Once outside, the two of them hurried toward Esenaij’s ger.

When they entered into the abode, Esenaij and Jaliqai had been greeted by the image of Bayarmaa kneeling at the bedside, clutching her mother’s hand. Her shoulders shook, and she could be heard sniffling and holding back her sobs. When Bayarmaa had finally heard them, she turned her head to look over at them, her nose and eyes a blossoming purple with her crying.

Seeing Bayarmaa in such a state made Esenaij’s heart sink straight into the pits of his stomach. Fear gripped him as he staggered forward and went to kneel next to her.

“I-Is…” Esenaij was afraid of the answer to the question that raced through his mind. He swallowed, attempting to keep a strong facade on his person so as not to freak Bayarmaa out further than she already clearly was. “Is mother…okay?”

“I…I don’t know…” Bayarmaa sniffled, hiccuping. It was when she started speaking again that she started lacing her words with sobs and further sniffling. “I w-was just doing what you did. I ch-changed the cloth, and felt her head. Mama…Mama feels like fire, Esenaij. I don’t know what to do!”

“Alright, clear the bedside, children…” Jaliqai spoke up, making her way over and getting her basket of remedies placed on the floor. Once both Esenaij and Bayarmaa had moved, Jaliqai had started to assess their mother’s condition more closely. There were some mutterings, though she had really only seemed to curse their father for not seeking assistance sooner.

It had been a sleepless night for both Bayarmaa and Esenaij as they watched Jaliqai do what she could with whatever salves and potions she had. Though it was once the children’s father had come back, Jaliqai had addressed him sternly regarding his wife’s condition. However, once it had been pointed out and made a reminder for Jaliqai that both Bayarmaa and Esenaij were there, as well as the fact that yelling at him brought them no closer to remedying the ailing woman, the subject had been dropped for the time being.

Both Esenaij and Bayarmaa were instructed to stay out of the way while Jaliqai and their father did what they could. Their father had started cleaning and steaming the shuvuukhai he had brought home with him to get the children fed, and hopefully have some kind of broth prepared for his wife should she awaken. Jaliqai, on the other hand, had laid her horn upon the chest of the bedridden woman, listening to her breathing.

Truthfully, eating anything had been difficult for Esenaij. The food had been near unpalatable with everything that he had been feeling. The bowl of rice and broth had sat there, nearly untouched before Esenaij had gotten back up and paced about the ger he and Bayarmaa were made to wait in impatiently.

Eventually, Bayarmaa had been too exhausted to keep her eyes open, and she had finally curled into her bed in order to sleep. Esenaij had no such luxury, for he had been alert and awake as long as Jaliqai and his father had tended to his mother. He watched both of them with a keen sense of apprehension and worry, fearing for the worst and hoping for the best. It was all he could do since any time he tried to help, he was told to stay out of the way.

Bells had passed, and eventually they led into the time of night where Esenaij had bolted upright and stood on his feet once he had heard his mother gasp out in agony. He rushed over to where his father and Jaliqai were, only able to watch as his mother convulsed and struggled to breathe, asphyxiating.

The icy grip of fear had chilled him as he stared in horror. He had no idea what to do. What could he have even done?

All the anxiety and uncertainty that swirled within him made him want to vomit.

“Y-you have to help her! Help her!” Esenaij yelled, looking up at his dad and then over to Jaliqai. His voice cracked as that fearful little boy finally rose to the surface and broke through. He raised his hands, gripping at his father’s robes and tugging back and forth. “You have to help her! She’s dying!”

The gasps and sputtering of his mother were sounds that burned into his memory. Same with the sounds of Bayarmaa waking up to his shouting and then screaming and sobbing in fearful realization as to what was happening when she had become lucid enough to process everything.

“... There’s…nothing else we can do…” their father finally said, his voice quiet and filled with dread and sadness. He had pulled Esenaij close into an embrace, and he did the same with Bayarmaa when she had run over. “Your mother…your mother is to meet with Nhaama soon.”

The last thing that Esenaij could remember is how their father later walked toward his and Bayarmaa’s mother, taking up one of her hands as he stared into her wide and fearful eyes, apologies falling from his lips over and over. He remembered how his father clutched her hand within one of his own, and gently stroked her knuckles with the other. He could see it all so clearly even behind the blurriness that the tears clouded his eyes with.

And just like that…she was gone.

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Bayarmaa’s words stuck with Esenaij as he had prepared for the morning in order to travel back to Reunion.

It had been only a handful of moons since their father passed away…not that it felt like they had lost anything impactful. Since their mother had passed away roughly six years ago, it had always been Esenaij looking after Bayarmaa while their father went out, hunted, and tended to the surrounding land. He taught her how to cook, what methods he had picked up or developed for caring for the land, and watched as she improved upon her skills playing the morin khuur… So many things he had been there to witness Bayarmaa grow into, frustrating as their sibling bond had proven at times.

Looking back at the ger that he and his sister shared, he muttered a word of ‘see you soon’ before walking toward the wain. A frown was set up on his lips, and his brow was knit together tightly while he got his harness attached to himself and began his journey down toward the worn road that had been used by countless Xaela of summers passed to make their way to Reunion. He could not help but to think of the things he had to endure along with Bayarmaa.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Esenaij did his best to shake his head of the thoughts that were coming back to him. Part of him wanted to blame the appearance of Nomin and his reluctant decision to take her in. However, he thought better of himself -- everything that had happened within the last few moons was a result of unfortunate circumstances.

Of course, Esenaij’s face had contorted into annoyance as he continued to walk whilst lost in his thoughts. His footsteps had been automatic more than anything, his body remembered the path to Reunion at that point. His mind replayed moments of his past in vivid detail all the while, much to his dismay.

Pursing his lips into a frown, Esenaij pulled himself from his thoughts when he saw the familiar entrance to Reunion off in the distance. He supposed that was one benefit to having gotten lost in his own mind; he had arrived at Reunion at what felt sooner than anticipated. Certainly, Esenaij had to count his blessings on what blessings manifested before him.

Getting to his usual spot, Esenaij had begun to set up his stall, meticulously organizing everything and making sure each good had its own place. He had briefly waved to other merchants that were either within the same process, or had already gotten their stalls ready to go. Such was the routine every time he had come out to the trading hub of the Steppe when the Sagahl had migrated close enough. Such was the routine once he had been dead set on ensuring he had a way to turn his knowledge and efforts into trade so that he could provide for Bayarmaa.

‘I suppose now I must account for Nomin as well…’ Esenaij thought to himself, a soft ‘bah’ falling as a scoff from his lips soon after.

Shaking his head, Esenaij got his wain parked close by, and he stood behind his stall. It was another day of hoping that new trade would come through that could serve him and his family.

A soft huff was made at that thought. Esenaij had always imagined it would simply be him and Bayarmaa up to a certain point. Whether he had gotten married, or she did…even if the thought of marriage for himself was a laughable prospect. Nomin entering their lives had been unexpected, to put it lightly… Though Esenaij could not have left her on her own, especially not after her passionate statement of her experience with loss within the Tumet and how she felt about it.

He supposed he could relate… The pain of loss was nothing new to him.

Esenaij’s attention had gone to the first customer that had approached his stall. There was no time to get lost in the past and reflect on it; business had officially started.

#ffxiv #ffxiv writing #my writing #ffxiv oc #oc: esenaij sagahl #oc: bayarmaa sagahl #oc: turakina sagahl #oc: jaliqai sagahl #au ra xaela #xaela headcanons #xaela sagahl #NTK:Chronicles #cw: death #cw: character death

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