zhel-rathan
Zhel Rathan
A Rava Viera exploring the world as the newest member of the Graveyard Company.
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😴 your silly 🐰 rabbit 🤍 photography 🚯 blogging from a closet 👻
Seemed appropriate for Zhel xD
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Sojourn
Zhel slung his pack over his shoulder, taking easy steps down the stairs. The Estate was mostly quiet - it was the middle of the day, most people were out taking care of some business or other.
It had been a nice stay, preparing for and then resting up from their Garlemald mission. Zhel felt like he should spend more time there - it was nice to be close to everyone, have the facilities on-hand for his crafting, and just... Have a change of scenery.
But, it was also nice to be heading back to a warmer climate long-term in Ul’Dah. His own apartment was nice, and it would be a better place to do certain things, like meet with Sechen for dinner. Besides, he was still a part of the Company - and returning was as simple as making a trip to the Aetheryte plaza. Simpler, even.
He made his way through the door to the personal quarters, glancing around the kitchen momentarily. Drinks, food... It was well-stocked. He’d have to ask Alice when she wanted to work on making those candied blood oranges - another good reason to come back, not that he needed a reason.
Zhel gave a wave to Muldoon as he passed by, the Elezen the ever-present face in the Estate. The ever-present dour face, that responded to the wave with a slight narrowing of his eyes. He’d come around... Eventually.
The chill of the Coerthas air hit him like a charging chocobo as he exited the estate; he still wasn’t used to the cold, as much as he wanted to be. Maybe he’d spent too long in the climates of Golmore to ever be used to it. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t continue to try.
A few more steps carried him out the gates, and he glanced back at the estate. The building wasn’t built by them, but it had become theirs - an achievement, a reward they’d earned for a job well done.
They’d come a long way, even just since Zhel had joined them... It was exciting to think where they might go from there.
He would be back - probably before long. This was just a temporary goodbye... It had just been a small sojourn.
One of many to come.
Master Post || Prompt Source || Challenge Carrd
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Fuse
It had been mid-summer. The Moonfire Faire - a celebration in Eorzea, one that involved bonfires and beaches... Fireworks.
They lit the sky up with colors and shapes, unlike anything he’d ever seen. A spectacle he might never have seen if he’d remained in Golmore. A good memory, along with many others made at that time.
Sitting with Sechen on a beach after one night at the Rumble, talking away... He realized how good he felt when he was with her. It was a warm feeling - comfortable, too, but still exciting. The way she sent his heart racing sometimes, but never in that way it raced when he was nervous, or felt like he was doing something wrong. He didn’t need to be careful with her... He could just be.
Then there was the Graveyard Company - his friends, his family. They drank together, talked in the Estate, of course - but this was something special. A barbecue, a time to just be together for the sake of enjoying themselves. Good food, good drink, and good company. They’d played truth or dare, and he’d ended up soaked when he lost his footing climbing to the top of the hut they were using.
Zhel smiled, staring out over the water on a beach in La Noscea. He was lucky, to have so many good memories... To have made as many friends as he had, to have experienced so much in just a little over a year’s time.
It made him eager to see where the next year would take him - and the years after that, too.
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Vainglory
Zhel struck the air, practicing strikes in the yard. The air in Ishgard was cold, but he needed to practice fighting in the cold. The low temperatures made him feel sluggish - he needed to know how he moved differently, how he needed to compensate.
Improvement was always the goal - and it was a goal that kept moving, ever forward. Unreachable. He’d seen some who didn’t understand that - fighters at the Rumble who thought they had already done all they needed.
He remembered one - who invited others to attack, refused to do so himself. A strike would be made and he made no attempt to counter - why, Zhel didn’t know. But it didn’t work for him - not that it should have.
Being defensive is good, but it can’t be the only way one knows how to fight. A Warder needs to be ready to make the first strike, even if their duty is a defensive one. Striking hard, fast, while being able to stay on your feet while on the defensive.
Balance - it was important. It covered weaknesses, as best as they could be. There was no such thing as perfection, which was another important lesson.
Knowing his limits made him more prepared to account for them - like training in freezing air, acclimating himself to the feel of it. Learning to fight in it - a weakness covered. One more step of progress, in a journey that would never truly be done.
But he would be stronger for it - for knowing where he was lacking, and always working to improve.
Master Post || Prompt Source || Challenge Carrd
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Hail
Zhel sat on the windowsill, head leaned against the glass as small bits of hail pattered against it.
This sort of weather wasn’t uncommon in Ishgard - Coerthas was perpetually under a layer of snow, as he heard it, since the Calamity. It only figured that hail was an option, too... Though, Zhel hadn’t seen it yet.
Balls of ice, falling from the sky - rain so cold in the air that it froze solid before hitting the ground. Not the gentle, soft sort of solid that snow was - hail was hard, jagged. If it got large enough, apparently, it could do some damage - to buildings, and to people.
But in that moment, Zhel was fascinated by it - he’d become so used to Ishgard since they’d inherited the estate, it didn’t feel new anymore. This was new - it was exciting... It reminded him why he’d taken the step out of Golmore to begin with. That fire to explore, burning away within him.
He ought to do right by it... Figure out just where he wanted to go that he hadn’t been yet. Maybe somewhere warmer, for a change from Ishgard, but not back to Ul’Dah. He’d seen most of what Thanalan had to offer.
He narrowed his eyes in thought... Ala Mhigo. The birthplace of the Fist of Rhalgr.
He could experience new sights, new cultures... And maybe be stronger for the journey.
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Break a Leg
Zhel hadn’t often stopped to watch the performances in Ul’Dah, outside the Quicksands. They happened often, pretty much at any point in the day, but for some reason it had never caught his interest.
Today, though, he found himself watching the trio of dancers, moving fluidly as a small crowd watched. Why they were there, he wasn’t sure - maybe they were collecting tips, maybe one of the wealthier people who was in charge of the city simply wanted them there to entertain Ul’Dah’s inhabitants.
But, their movements were entrancing... They were clearly practiced, one motion flowing easily into another. Zhel had learned the kriegstanz, but he wasn’t sure he really knew all that much about real dancing.
There was also the nights spent at the Glitter Hall. He thought his dancing there was pretty good, but it was a lot of moving on instinct, not so much... Practiced choreography. It might be nice to learn some more... Formal or prearranged dances.
The thought crossed his mind if Sechen danced - she didn’t seem like the type, but that didn’t mean anything. They were a lot alike, so maybe she’d taken a similar interest. It didn’t hurt to ask, or to invite her to go dancing sometime... Just the thought of dancing together made him smile.
The next Glitter Hall, maybe... He hadn’t brought her there - in fact, he hadn’t gone in a while. It would be something fun to do, for a couple of hours... One more thing to keep in mind, to do with Sechen.
He’d have to call her soon... He couldn’t wait to see her again.
Master Post || Prompt Source || Challenge Carrd
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Task
La Noscea was a nice part of the world, Zhel had come to think. It was warm, usually sunny, with oceans never too far away from any particular part of it. He was there plenty because of the Rumble, but every now and then he had other reasons to go, too.
It had seemed like a simple request - a dozen blood oranges, for Alice back at the Estate to candy for a friend of hers. Zhel had thought he’d heard the name before, and figured it would be as simple as even going to the markets in Limsa Lominsa to get some.
But, they’d been expensive, and for good reason - blood orange trees were few and far between, apparently. Not something regularly farmed, but something that only grew in a particular area near Bronze Lake.
Zhel had coin, now, but he had learned a thing or two about trading - and wasn’t about to pay so much for something he could go and gather himself. Granted, gathering it himself wasn’t exactly easy, either...
The oranges themselves were ripe at a very particular time, and were usually gone by the time most went looking for them, due to their scarcity and value. Part of Zhel was irritated at the idea of people snatching up something that grew naturally, something they put no effort into, just to sell at an exorbitant price. Not even to use themselves, just for the sake of coin.
But, did he do much different when he sold excess materials? Granted, what he sold didn’t tend to be so rare, and he didn’t sell it for nearly as much. It was a question that would linger, though.
Zhel came upon the particular clearing at just the right hour - seeing fresh, red-skinned oranges hanging off a tree. He’d managed to beat the crowd of merchants’ staff, and rushed ahead. No tools needed, just a bit of climbing up the tree and - using his legs to hold himself up on the trunk - he was able to get his bounty.
A dozen ripe blood oranges, ready to be candied by him and Alice back home... And a couple for good measure. They must have tasted pretty good to be worth so much - maybe Sechen would like one.
He’d have to hurry to give one to her, though... Make sure it was still ripe and juicy.
Mentions: @fantasy-so-far
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Vicissitudes
Zhel was stood still, hand reached out to have made the attempt to catch an item that, unfortunately, had eluded his grasp.
His desk, at times, could be messy - sometimes things ended up teetering on the edge because that was the only place they could be. But, it was never a problem... It usually wasn’t a problem.
Today, though, he’d been unlucky. As he was opening drawers for materials, he’d jostled the desk one too many times, and a rack of potion bottles he’d been preparing for the Company’s stores had its balance tipped. Just a bit of weight too much over the edge of the top of the desk’s hutch, and the whole case doubled over, toppling down.
He’d tried to stop it, as much as he could, but he wasn’t fast enough. The red liquid seeped across the wood floors. It was quite the mess, created out of several hours’ hard work.
In that moment, Zhel was paused - mind searching, fruitlessly, for some way to fix the mess. To get the work back. But, it was impossible - all he could do at that point was clean up.
He was going to need a few towels...
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Pitch
Zhel laid back in his bed in the Estate, staring up at the ceiling and thinking to himself.
There wasn’t much to do at the moment - no tasks he needed to complete, no jobs... Just waiting on their pay for the mission in Garlemald, now. He could probably find something to keep himself busy, if he really tried, but... It wouldn’t be anything really signfiicant.
He wasn’t a Warder, anymore - he could spend time just... Relaxing. Doing nothing. It wasn’t how he normally was; he tended to train, or work on his gear, or do... Something.
A tune entered his head - a shanty from the moons he spent on the ship to Eorzea. It was simple, but catchy, like a lot of shanties tended to be. They told good stories, though - maybe not the most complex ones, but... Compelling, relatable stories - at least, relatable to the people who sang them.
Still, it had become relatable for him... Something that brought him back to that time in his journey, his first experiences in the wider world. The friends he’d made, the experiences he’d had... It would be nice to travel by ship again, some time, even if only for the sake of traveling.
But, that was sending his mind racing again - he really was no good at sitting still, even in his thoughts.
Master Post || Prompt Source || Challenge Carrd
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Veracity
Zhel didn’t have much in the way of secrets. In Golmore, there was no need for them - he was one more Warder, set to be living on his own, and his only friend in the world was Valtair. What need was there for secrets between them?
Even when he’d decided to leave Golmore, he’d left a note to tell Valtair as much, and tell him why. No secrets, until the very end... Now, he still didn’t have many. There were things he didn’t tell people, but nothing he was particularly ashamed of, or was actively trying to keep from others. Just things that didn’t come up, didn’t matter.
It seemed simpler that way - to wear most of his thoughts on his sleeve, to not hide things. Hiding things was just another layer that would end up weighing him down - having to pretend to be other than he was, keep up appearances, it would just require too much attention.
He had a need to be present; in combat, in life, he wanted to be alert, aware of the things around him. If he was trying to be too aware of himself, to make sure he didn’t slip, that would be difficult. So, no need for filters - no need for secrets, nothing hidden.
Not from his friends, not from Sechen... Not from himself. It was easy to fool the self, Valtair had taught him - to think you were weaker or stronger than you were. Know the truth of yourself, know who you are, what you’re capable of, and don’t pretend otherwise.
Knowing your own strength was how you wielded it properly. It was a good way to live, and an easier one, by Zhel’s estimate.
And he saw no reason to change his mind yet.
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Solution
Zhel sat over his desk, mixing ingredients with the tools he’d mistakenly left behind during their mission in Garlemald.
The plants were ground into a fine powder in the mortar, ready to be poured into the small container he’d already been mixing everything into. The solution was a translucent sort of red - a healing potion, one he’d been practicing with the occasional trip to the Alchemist’s Guild in Ul’Dah.
He’d learned to make simple salves, medicines, and such in Golmore - but the ingredients in Eorzea were very different, and more varied. He knew the techniques, but a lot of what he knew about alchemy had to be relearned with local knowledge.
It hadn’t been a good feeling, to have to go back to square one on learning what was such a vital skill. But, like most things, he enjoyed the learning - honing his skills, being more self-reliant. Now, though, it was also nice to know that he could be more useful to his friends.
He could help them maintain weapons and armor, supply them with medicines, or even gather materials for them to do these things themselves, if they wanted. It helped him in fulfilling the duty he felt he had to the Graveyard Company - to be a useful member, instead of dead weight dragging them down.
He held the flask up against the light, checking the opacity and making sure everything had been mixed in just right. A smile crossed his lips - a good potion, one for the Company’s stores.
He set it aside... And started gathering ingredients for the next batch.
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Anon
The airship approached Eorzea - it wasn’t too long a trip from Garlemald, but the thought of home had been on his mind since they set out.
He had plans, after all. He and Sechen had planned to see each other when he got back - a different sort of evening than their usual meet-up at the Rumble. He still needed to cook her dinner, and she had offered to cook for him, too.
He smiled, looking ahead at the clouds, the distant landscapes, thinking about that night. He remembered he’d promised her ribs before - he’d need to get ingredients, look for where he’d written his recipe...
But, really, more than anything, it would be nice to see her again. They never felt too far apart - they’d said as much, a while ago. But, being in the same place, being able to feel her, touch her... It was a different feeling entirely.
Even with the altitude, he felt warm just thinking about it. Just a little longer, and they’d be home... They’d rest, recuperate... Get paid.
Then, he would see her. The thought made him smile.
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Turn a Blind Eye
It felt a bit wrong - leaving when there were still people who needed help, who were suffering.
But they hadn’t wanted help - they’d practically chased them away. They had been terrified, and warned that going further would mean their death. The attempt had been made to help - what more could they do?
Could they do more?
The Shrike made it sway back the way it came, more or less - avoiding the Grand Alliance of Eorzea’s forces in the area in case they were accused of trafficking. Meredith, their charge, was sleeping soundly elsewhere... But Zhel’s thoughts were still on the bunker.
He looked at Kuri - she’d tried to help them the most. He wondered if she felt at all like he did. Maybe he would ask her when they got back... Or maybe it was letter to let it be. To not dredge up any ill feelings about leaving without having done.. More.
But that wasn’t their job - it had been more than they’d been hired for, and they’d been willing to do it. But they were denied... Turned away.
Still, he wished they could’ve done more... Even if it wasn’t their mission. It just never felt good to ignore those in need.
Mentions: @kuri-ejinn
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Duty
The Shrike flew swiftly, on a direct course for their destination.
A secretive mission into Garlemald, to retrieve the client’s fiancée's mother from one of the ruined cities. It was a mission with many uncertainties, including the legality of it, but... These were Zhel’s people.
He looked up and around at them. Siegwulf, Elissaria, and Kuri had been there when he first arrived - his first friends in Eorzea. Bear, Violetta, and Kal’sin he’d met come later, but he was fond of them both, too. Pern was the newest, but she seemed nice - and worth trusting, especially if she was already with them on a mission like this.
They were his friends, and he would follow them - besides, they’d discussed the mission, all the possibilities of it, and they’d agreed to do it. It was nice, to be able to talk about these things, instead of being obligated to see them through. Even he didn’t feel obligated to agree one way or the other - and the option had been there to sit out if he’d been uncomfortable.
So here they were, entering the airs above Garlemald - a nation he hadn’t expected to see so soon, and certainly not in the state it was in now. When he’d left Golmore, Garlemald was a threat - now... What was left of it didn’t seem so threatening.
But, there were dangers still, and they had a mission to take someone out of that danger. Once upon a time, Zhel guarded a homeland from threats such as these... Now, his home was standing all around him. These people, who’d taken him in, shown him kindness...
They were his home - and so he continued his duty.
Mentions: @silentasagrave @elissaria-ffxiv @kuri-ejinn @fantasy-so-far
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Novel
Zhel tilted his head at the plush toy. Made to look like a Mandragora with an orange head, somewhat sad eyes, and a striped torso, this was an “Onion Prince,” apparently.
He gave it a squeeze between his hands, feeling the plush insides and the soft fabric. Violetta had given him something similar, a rabbit with a carrot as a gift. That was back in his apartment, sat on his bedside table.
This, he’d seen in the markets one day, and something about it had caught his attention. It was endearing, somehow, the expression on its face... It was made to be cute, definitely, and how soft it was was... Soothing.
He couldn’t quite place it beyond broad strokes like that, though - why he’d decided to purchase it, and bring it back to his room at the Company Estate. HIs Apartment was only so big, and he’d already settled just about everything he wanted in there.
The room at the Estate seemed best for his new, little friend. Maybe he would show Violetta - he wasn’t sure if she actually liked things like this, or had just given him one as a gift, but maybe she’d find something in it like he had.
Zhel turned, going to place the Onion Prince back down next to the Mandragora Queen, filling the space between her and the Garlic Jester. On her other side was the Eggplant Knight, flanked by the Tomato King.
They had been a set, and... For some reason, it seemed like a shame to separate them.
Why was that?
Mentions: @fantasy-so-far
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Deiform
Zhel.
He looked at the name, written down... “Zhel.” It was his name, one he’d chosen for himself... Zhel Rathan. He’d lived by it for more than a turn, answered to it on instinct.
But it wasn’t the name he was given at birth. Zheyur - Valtair had liked that name. Strong, but it flowed. The way he fought, the way Zhel fought now... Zheyur.
Even thinking it in his own mind, Zhel’s stomach got a knot. He’d given up that name when he left. By the Green Word, he was an outcast - exiled the moment he stepped foot out of the forest, though no one had cast him out.
Valtair had even tried to make him stay... But if he ever tried to go back, ever tried to be “Zheyur” again, he would be met as an outsider. Met like he’d met so many before him, who were not Viera. He could fight, maybe... But never win. Even if he managed to escape in the forests, Warders would search for him - hunt him.
Zheyur was gone... Zhel took his place - though, they weren’t so different. Not different at all, really. It was just a name that had changed, not the man it belonged to... And he’d gained so much as Zhel. It was the name Sechen said when she first told him she loved him.
What was in a name, really? Just a sound... Still, the name that he’d had, the name he’d gone by in Golmore... It was behind him, now.
Such was the way of the Green Word.
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Row
Zhel sat hunched over his desk, in the little workspace he’d set up for himself - and, really, any of the others - in the Company Estate.
He’d gotten a tear in the leg of his pants while training, snagged on a splintered training dummy, and now he was set to work fixing it. Just another thing he’d learned in Golmore, that he’d been improving on since coming to Eorzea.
In Golmore, clothing was simple... Functional - it protected the wearer from the elements, and while there was some design to it, it wasn’t overly fancy. Not that Zhel had many fancy clothes, still, but... More attention was paid to the design of things in Eorzea.
He’d learned finer stitching, different materials, different ways of making clothes. When he’d first arrived, he wore his same gear consistently, keeping it clean but otherwise not worrying about it. Now, he had a few sets of clothes, and even the desire for more.
Having these skills came in handy, since not all of his clothing was exactly suited to his fighting... Still, there was also normal wear and tear.
He finished the row of stitches, pulling it taut and inspecting his handiwork. To the untrained eye, it was like it wasn’t even there. He smiled, and set the pants aside.
That done, he had more training to do - hopefully with less damage to his clothes.
Master Post || Prompt Source || Challenge Carrd
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