Writing: Character Background Story
Word Count: 1182
There seems to be an unwritten law governing the state of the human creatures that allows for other two- legged, two- armed, one-headed, tailless organisms of their planet to walk more freely than other creatures. And it seems that the verdant, static life forms previously so abundant on the planet are degraded as all but nonliving; it is pointless to further express the treatment of said static objects, of those with or without luster.
The Natives of the forest have a life that is almost directly against this way of life. We live as peaceably as we can bear with the nature around us, with the innate life of the planet. We do not claim to be more “advanced” in any aspect of the human lifestyle except in the area of morality—generally—by the planet’s definition. Yet that is not to say we are completely without their “modern technology”. We have our own methods of technology, ones deemed more “one” with the environment.
And it is not to say we loathe the non-natives that have come to populate the land. We are careful to keep our relations at a friendly minimum, extending a heart equal to that which is extended to us.
Of course, I speak only with the experience known to the tribe of Karmiti, and with information only known to the chief’s daughter.
The first chief of Karmiti was known as Adoeete (ah-do-EE-tay), Big Tree. It is said that his devotion to the land—particularly the trees—was so great that he was born when two rivaling trees entwined roots and created him from the overlapping area; when he was killed, he returned to the land as a great tree. But his teachings were much like the ones of times before, with a slight change to accommodate the farming people of the tribe.
His great-grandson, Adahy (ah-da-HAY), Timber, later became chief and wed Kemete (key-MEH-teh), Secret. I—Tsiyone (tsi-YO-ne)— am the product of that marriage. I will not however, be the next chief; our chiefs are selected by the presiding chief, along with a few of the elders, when the child is very young. The child, of course, must also consent to this role before it is official.
I am, and always will be, Tazanna, daughter of the chief. I hold no special rank or authority, and no distinction but the title is made. It is no great loss; I prefer to be simply Tsiyone Karmiti, Flying Trees, and not someone that must lead a tribe. I was born this way, and am consent with always being this. My role is to guide the little saplings in our ways, that they might learn the values of the earth and the power of the ancient language.
Enough with the dull history. My story begins with the attack of the Nochime (no-shim) tribe on the Karmiti tribe. It was my ninth winter on the land, and I remember I was taking a break from sewing spare moccasins for the men and practicing archery when a cry went up from one of the residents on the perimeter of the camp. It was a late notice, since no one was on the farmlands. A messenger had run from an outlying tent through the familiar forest path to the main camp and reported that hostiles were approaching. Already there were two dead.
Father gathered the warriors immediately and the non-fighters quickly took down the hangings in the paths in camp to clear the way and to protect their goods. I, along with a few of my wihe—sisters—were expected to keep guard of the camp as the others greeted the hostiles.
We waited in calm trepidation, and occasionally a fearful mother muttered a prayer, which would be followed by the unanimous “Deus Ioyna” that is, “Deus has mercy.”
The pahan—non-native born—of the tribe were few—Nem Suis had not joined us yet—and most knew their task; my friend and wihe Evangeline stood by me, her chubby fingers resting on a small set of dark colored stones that I knew were laced with her witchcraft and would do anything from explode to send confusion through those unfamiliar to her—given the alternative, and the proximity of the nearby tents, I silently hoped she would employ the latter.
In our language, Nochime means “heartless”. The first leader had named his tribe such because they were a band of outcasts from either native or non-native society and had sworn revenge on the individuals who had banished them. Conflict arose though, when children appeared. Some suggested making pacts with peaceful tribes and leaving the children with them, but some feared that the children would be mistreated, as the adults had been. Some wanted to keep their children and raise them as part of the band. Some killed the babies when they were young. Some sold them as slaves to the non-natives. Some waited until the child could work before selling it—they were an “it” to the members of the Nochime—for more money.
This last one was the case of Eluan (EH-lu-an) Nochime.
We waited, and finally heard fighting in the distance. This was soon replaced by loud quarreling with soon faded to quiet mumbling. At the time I had not yet advanced my connection to the trees so much as to be able to hear through them and thus did not hear the entire conversation, only snippets of it: “friend…winter…food…pahan…temp--…shila…ahia…”
I stopped listening to the conversation when I picked up footsteps running towards us from a different direction. Telling Evangeline to keep order, I darted towards the sound of these step to meet the newcomer.
When the person got closer, I drew my bow and readied to shoot. Instead, a boy around my age rushed towards me, brandishing a long dagger. He balked when he saw my arrow pointed at his heart and collapsed. “Wihe, extrsazan okie neigah; Lepaz eun iem!*” His accent in the ancient language was harsh, and it was plain he did not learn it from his own people—the Nochime were not known for their dedication to the ancient customs and language.
But nevertheless he had spoken in the ancient language and could not lie. “Lepaz, shila.**” I said—he was no brother of mine, but he had called me a sister and I did not wish to be disrespectful— and lowered my weapon. In Common, I asked, “You are of the Nochime clan, are you not? Are you lost?”
“No, I ran away. Don’t let them find me! ”
“Lepaz, shila.** Peace, peace. Where will you go?”
“Anywhere,” he said, “Anywhere.”
I thought hard for a moment. Father would not approve of what I was about to do—maybe no one would—but I could not kill him now, and to abandon him would be worse.
"What is your name, shila iem?"
*Sister, do not attack me; I come in peace!
Artist's Note: Hi! I haven't been online for a long while because my computer fried for a few days . I've got everything to work except Microsoft Office now though; and I just figured out a way to use TextEdit to write :) (Take that Microsoft! You just got pwned!)
And...this is part one of Tsiyone's background...which isn't going to be about her that much :/
In all honesty I think I'll try to finish this background story series (as in the entire thing) asap so I can try writing...actual stories. Background stories are betatesters! >.<
Please read and review! Thank you in advance! <3 :D
P.S. Final Fantasy XIII is awesome. <3