Celina and Mahri No'Jar, the twin son and daughter of Mehnki and Calli
No'Jar – separated by three years though they were – found themselves at
the top of a very high, very slippery slope of poor fortune and absolute
catastrophe the night Sin decided to attack the boat on which they and
their parents were travelling. It had, perhaps typical to fate, been a
very rocky and thunderous night already: a giant monster rising from the
depths of Hell itself was only a fitting way to top it all off.
They were a small family of Al Bhed refugees, constantly on the search for a nice home: and despite their relatively nomadic and poor lifestyle, every one of the four could not say that they regretted life. Having a family – even under conditions of destitution – made everything bearable; and finding food in Spira was seldom particularly difficult. Recently, however, they had been given a sort of beacon of light: an Al Bhed settlement, known only as Home, had recently been established, and every Al Bhed was slowly being notified of its existence. A large, tattooed man had kindly informed the No'Jars as they walked upon the Mi'ihen Highroad, giving them the exact place and time where they could find a boat waiting to go. They were warned to keep it in strict secrecy, lest any Yevonites overhear and decide Home was a threat to their religion.
Calli had been absolutely delighted to hear the news. Generally speaking, only Al Bhed ever truly treated Al Bhed with any respect, and the prospect that a collected community was underway made her practically squeal with glee. Mehnki had a few doubts, but eventually decided to follow along with his wife – the life of a perpetual nomad got a bit tedious at times, and having a place to go at the end of the day sounded rather nice. Their two children, ages eight and five – Celina the bombastic elder sister, and Mahri the withdrawn, somewhat shy younger brother – had thought the concept rather odd, as living with other people and not moving about constantly was a rather foreign idea to both of them. In any event, their parents decided it a worthwhile pursuit, and that was the end of the discussion.
So they had gone, and boarded the boat. It was a little small, and cramped: however, the atmosphere, huddled together with almost fifty other Al Bhed, was decidedly genial, and the heightened spirits of the collected group made the trip more than bearable, even in less than favourable weather.
Until the first night, of course. The storm had arrived, and brought an epic demon with it. On its first pass, Sin had slapped the side of the boat almost casually, sending it rocking wildly in the churning waves and tearing a chunk out of the hull. Water began to pour in, knocking out loose boards and soaking the legs of the passengers. Celina, screaming, clutched her fathers leg with wild abandon. Mahri managed to remain fairly controlled – for a five year old, and a shy one at that, he had the heart of a lion – simply grasping his frantic mother's hand.
Sin Spawn began to rain down on the boat next, small, leech-like creatures with rending fangs forged of steel, which used those same fangs to rip both hull and overhanging roof to shreds. The rain came down through ever- increasing holes, drenching the frightened Al Bhed underneath. Every last Spawn screamed shrilly as it worked, as though a group of monstrous crickets, a sound that would fill the nightmares of Celina for the next few weeks.
The ship was going down. The pilot was already dead, a spawn burrowing quickly into his face. And there was only one life raft.
By the time Mehnki managed to get both children stuffed in – his ill-fated wife had already been swept offboard – he had already been struck by three Spawn, all of whom were burrowing furiously into his back. Their chirping drowned out his cries of sorrow; but a round O of pain, etched into his face, and almost sadistically enshrined in light for the children to witness by a blast of lightning, said it all. Celina cried out for her daddy, tears already flowing, but his fingers had already fallen out of range as the raft was propelled away into the night by a vicious wave. The twins had time enough to see their father plummet into the water before the store engulfed what had once been their hope for a better future.
The twins huddled together, Celina sobbing and Mahri simply silent, and neither managed to sleep until the final clouds gave way to a gentle blanket of stars.
---
The island of Haliki was, for all intents and purposes, a veritable paradise. Small and sparsely populated, it was a bastion of Yevonite purity, a tranquil place that had the good fortune of having never been visited by Sin. Though bereft of a formal Summoner's Temple, Haliki was a community of very devout followers of Yevon all of whom made daily prayers and were constantly blessed by their ever-vocal resident Preacher. Only one man on the island could ever be said as somewhat lax in his religious zeal: perhaps it was the occasionally benign hand of fate that delivered the twins to him as he fished upon a beach near his cottage home. He had been idling away the wee hours of the day, contemplating what to do with the day, when their bright yellow inflated vessel floated over the horizon, just slightly east of the steadily rising sun. The man was curious, initially: what the devil was it? Eventually, however, as it grew steadily in width and breadth, he recognized it for what it was: an emergency raft. His rowboat was on the water in moments, and fifteen minutes later, both children, unconscious, soaked to the bone, and utterly chilled by the cool morning air, were stretched out on the seats.
---
Celina clawed her way out of her nightmare with a sudden burst of frantic speed. Her father had just plunged headfirst into the water for his second time, only this time, she heard the shelled Spawn very close up, burrowing into his back, sending rivulets of flesh and blood spinning into the air, when the moment simply became too much for her; and an explosion of disgusted, frightened, utterly horrified emotion not only tossed her into consciousness, but into a sitting position. Her scream all but shattered the ears of her saviour, who sat a scant few feet away from his now- occupied bed in a wooden rocker. His eyes flew open and he mimicked her performance, leaping out of his own seat and tossing up a weak yell of his own.
Celina was absolutely frantic. Cold beads of sweat, mixed with dawning tears, poured down her small, rounded face, and her continued shriek of incredible despair continued unabated for a good minute and a half. Mahri, who had already awoken earlier and now sat looking rather sullen across the room, simply watched as his sisters' voice gradually tapered off, and failed entirely.
Celina looked utterly lost, wrapped up in blankets and crying her eyes out. Mahri did nothing to comfort his twin, lost as he was in his own world. The man, utterly without experience in this field, sat and watched her a moment, as silent as Mahri.
Girl and man studied one another intently. The man, perhaps sensing responsibility in his seniority, made the first move. "Umm. . . you alright, girly?"
Celina, choking the words out between gasping sobs, managed a glib "Mommy and daddy where are my mommy and daddy?"
Mahri shrugged as though the question was directed towards him. For an uneducated Al Bhed of only five years, he was quite intelligent, and seemed to have grasped the situation fully.
The man looked about his tiny cottage in a fit of exasperated panic. "Uhh, uhh, I haven't a clue, lass. . . sorry. . .?"
Her tears were renewed, and Celina buried herself in sheets.
---
The man had spent an hour trying to goad information out of Mahri prior to Celina's explosive awakening; however, Mahri had proven highly resistant to questioning, and refused to mutter even the slightest peep. This, coupled with Celina's emotional outcry, had both frustrated and bewildered the old merchant.
For old he was: sporting a long, greying beard, and a back that was slowly folding in on itself, the man had moved steadily past the days of his prime years earlier. Once a highly successful purveyor of goods, straight out of Bevelle, he had fallen upon hard times, and eventually retired to Haliki for a decade or two of easy, quiet isolation before death. He could not be called the most stalwart disciple of Yevon, even in so pious a landscape as this island: his prayers were few, and he made a point of avoiding the Preacher if he could. The man was somewhat incorrigible, and a little loud for this aged merchant's ears.
So he thought. Long and hard, he thought, leaving the twins alone, pestering neither. He'd never had a family, really: aside from a rather virile brother and his numerous spawn, the man had little exposure to children. So, he thought like a good salesman. How had he satisfied his customers? What had he done to loosen their lips along with their wallets. . .?
Ah yes, of course; satiate them first. After drifting aimlessly on the ocean, these two castaways were surely possessed of gnawing hunger by now. His stands in the market had always boasted a few free treats for customers to nibble on, providing they were willing to buy something else as well. Pleased with his initial plan, he skittered off, tossing to the twins a cursory promise of good food before retreating to his kitchen. For whatever reason, it had never occurred to him to be surprised that the little girl had screeched out in Al Bhed: being a merchant, it was his business to know every language in Spira, and to know them well, thus making a mental switch between each a rather natural thing.
---
Celina could hear her hesitant benefactor rustling about in the adjoining kitchen, chopping and cleaning both meat and vegetables in relative silence. She rose above the covers after a few moments, a little happy that food was coming: her parents had taught her enough English to get by with, and she'd gotten the gist of what he had said. Mahri, on the other hand, had been very negligent in paying attention to the lessons, and thus knew absolutely nothing of the language. Hence, had he even felt inclined to answer the man's questions, he hadn't understood a single word of what was spoken anyway.
Speaking of Mahri, he had clambered up on the bed beside his sister, staring into her big, emerald – now profoundly red, and bloated - swirling eyes with a pair that perfectly mirrored them, albeit crystal clear. She clung to him, and renewed her sobbing.
---
"Oh, bugger, she's at it again. . ." The man could not help but mentally curse: and why should he not be entitled to it? This situation had never been in the proverbial deck that was retirement. He hadn't signed a contract forcing him to take care of one absolute loudmouth and a stone statue. His wrath was bore upon the long, thin veggies that he sliced with practiced ease and arranged alongside some cooked local squid. It was one of his standard meals.
No, not in the deck at all.
His was only a small cabin, after all: a kitchen, a bedroom, a small living room with a nice view, and a porch. About fifteen feet from the house was a shed that served nicely as both a basement and, well, a shed: any superfluous items he no long felt necessary to display fell within its walls. It was enough for he, and he alone, to live comfortably in. So, how could he share with these kids? How was it at all fair?
When he got a look at the little girl again, though, as she timidly accepted his proffered meal, with her huge, red eyes and shaking composure, he couldn't help but feel profound pity. Whatever had happened to these kids, they'd gone through hell.
He allowed them to eat in relative silence, chewing slowly on his own meal. He would've thought that the squid would raise a ruckus, as most people didn't much care for the texture: the twins, on the other hand, both seemed to eat with great relish. He was pleasantly surprised at the development.
After removing their emptied plates, he decided it was time to try again. Pulling up his rocker, he awkwardly addressed the children.
"Um. . . hiya."
Celina offered a small, mournful "hello" in response. It came out a little awkward, and heavily accented. The man mused on this, briefly, but another quick look into her eyes offered the truth.
"Ah, sorry! You're Al Bhed, aren't you? E'mm cfedlr ujan du syga drehkc aycean. Cunno 'puid dryd." Despite lacking the deep, distinct Al Bhed voice, his rendition of the language was flawless, and perfectly understandable.
Celina smiled a tiny smile, somewhat relieved that her host could speak Al Bhed, and feeling a little less miserable now that a good meal had found its way into her stomach.
"Fryd'c ouin hysa, mycc?" he continued, now that the first hurdle had been crossed.
"Celina. Yht ra'c Mahri." She nodded briefly at her brother, who still clutched his sister and watched the old man with distrustful, shying eyes. "Fru'na oui? Mahri inquired in a small, blunt voice.
Simply speaking about himself seemed to make the old man positively beam, as though he were a national celebrity. "Sa? E's dra knayd sanlryhd, O'aka dra XVII, uv luinca!"
"www. j-maxx.net /abtrans /translite. php" Note: Look here for some nice Al Bhed translating goodness. Eliminate the spaces, of course, as it keeps taking out the url when I put it in whole.
They were a small family of Al Bhed refugees, constantly on the search for a nice home: and despite their relatively nomadic and poor lifestyle, every one of the four could not say that they regretted life. Having a family – even under conditions of destitution – made everything bearable; and finding food in Spira was seldom particularly difficult. Recently, however, they had been given a sort of beacon of light: an Al Bhed settlement, known only as Home, had recently been established, and every Al Bhed was slowly being notified of its existence. A large, tattooed man had kindly informed the No'Jars as they walked upon the Mi'ihen Highroad, giving them the exact place and time where they could find a boat waiting to go. They were warned to keep it in strict secrecy, lest any Yevonites overhear and decide Home was a threat to their religion.
Calli had been absolutely delighted to hear the news. Generally speaking, only Al Bhed ever truly treated Al Bhed with any respect, and the prospect that a collected community was underway made her practically squeal with glee. Mehnki had a few doubts, but eventually decided to follow along with his wife – the life of a perpetual nomad got a bit tedious at times, and having a place to go at the end of the day sounded rather nice. Their two children, ages eight and five – Celina the bombastic elder sister, and Mahri the withdrawn, somewhat shy younger brother – had thought the concept rather odd, as living with other people and not moving about constantly was a rather foreign idea to both of them. In any event, their parents decided it a worthwhile pursuit, and that was the end of the discussion.
So they had gone, and boarded the boat. It was a little small, and cramped: however, the atmosphere, huddled together with almost fifty other Al Bhed, was decidedly genial, and the heightened spirits of the collected group made the trip more than bearable, even in less than favourable weather.
Until the first night, of course. The storm had arrived, and brought an epic demon with it. On its first pass, Sin had slapped the side of the boat almost casually, sending it rocking wildly in the churning waves and tearing a chunk out of the hull. Water began to pour in, knocking out loose boards and soaking the legs of the passengers. Celina, screaming, clutched her fathers leg with wild abandon. Mahri managed to remain fairly controlled – for a five year old, and a shy one at that, he had the heart of a lion – simply grasping his frantic mother's hand.
Sin Spawn began to rain down on the boat next, small, leech-like creatures with rending fangs forged of steel, which used those same fangs to rip both hull and overhanging roof to shreds. The rain came down through ever- increasing holes, drenching the frightened Al Bhed underneath. Every last Spawn screamed shrilly as it worked, as though a group of monstrous crickets, a sound that would fill the nightmares of Celina for the next few weeks.
The ship was going down. The pilot was already dead, a spawn burrowing quickly into his face. And there was only one life raft.
By the time Mehnki managed to get both children stuffed in – his ill-fated wife had already been swept offboard – he had already been struck by three Spawn, all of whom were burrowing furiously into his back. Their chirping drowned out his cries of sorrow; but a round O of pain, etched into his face, and almost sadistically enshrined in light for the children to witness by a blast of lightning, said it all. Celina cried out for her daddy, tears already flowing, but his fingers had already fallen out of range as the raft was propelled away into the night by a vicious wave. The twins had time enough to see their father plummet into the water before the store engulfed what had once been their hope for a better future.
The twins huddled together, Celina sobbing and Mahri simply silent, and neither managed to sleep until the final clouds gave way to a gentle blanket of stars.
---
The island of Haliki was, for all intents and purposes, a veritable paradise. Small and sparsely populated, it was a bastion of Yevonite purity, a tranquil place that had the good fortune of having never been visited by Sin. Though bereft of a formal Summoner's Temple, Haliki was a community of very devout followers of Yevon all of whom made daily prayers and were constantly blessed by their ever-vocal resident Preacher. Only one man on the island could ever be said as somewhat lax in his religious zeal: perhaps it was the occasionally benign hand of fate that delivered the twins to him as he fished upon a beach near his cottage home. He had been idling away the wee hours of the day, contemplating what to do with the day, when their bright yellow inflated vessel floated over the horizon, just slightly east of the steadily rising sun. The man was curious, initially: what the devil was it? Eventually, however, as it grew steadily in width and breadth, he recognized it for what it was: an emergency raft. His rowboat was on the water in moments, and fifteen minutes later, both children, unconscious, soaked to the bone, and utterly chilled by the cool morning air, were stretched out on the seats.
---
Celina clawed her way out of her nightmare with a sudden burst of frantic speed. Her father had just plunged headfirst into the water for his second time, only this time, she heard the shelled Spawn very close up, burrowing into his back, sending rivulets of flesh and blood spinning into the air, when the moment simply became too much for her; and an explosion of disgusted, frightened, utterly horrified emotion not only tossed her into consciousness, but into a sitting position. Her scream all but shattered the ears of her saviour, who sat a scant few feet away from his now- occupied bed in a wooden rocker. His eyes flew open and he mimicked her performance, leaping out of his own seat and tossing up a weak yell of his own.
Celina was absolutely frantic. Cold beads of sweat, mixed with dawning tears, poured down her small, rounded face, and her continued shriek of incredible despair continued unabated for a good minute and a half. Mahri, who had already awoken earlier and now sat looking rather sullen across the room, simply watched as his sisters' voice gradually tapered off, and failed entirely.
Celina looked utterly lost, wrapped up in blankets and crying her eyes out. Mahri did nothing to comfort his twin, lost as he was in his own world. The man, utterly without experience in this field, sat and watched her a moment, as silent as Mahri.
Girl and man studied one another intently. The man, perhaps sensing responsibility in his seniority, made the first move. "Umm. . . you alright, girly?"
Celina, choking the words out between gasping sobs, managed a glib "Mommy and daddy where are my mommy and daddy?"
Mahri shrugged as though the question was directed towards him. For an uneducated Al Bhed of only five years, he was quite intelligent, and seemed to have grasped the situation fully.
The man looked about his tiny cottage in a fit of exasperated panic. "Uhh, uhh, I haven't a clue, lass. . . sorry. . .?"
Her tears were renewed, and Celina buried herself in sheets.
---
The man had spent an hour trying to goad information out of Mahri prior to Celina's explosive awakening; however, Mahri had proven highly resistant to questioning, and refused to mutter even the slightest peep. This, coupled with Celina's emotional outcry, had both frustrated and bewildered the old merchant.
For old he was: sporting a long, greying beard, and a back that was slowly folding in on itself, the man had moved steadily past the days of his prime years earlier. Once a highly successful purveyor of goods, straight out of Bevelle, he had fallen upon hard times, and eventually retired to Haliki for a decade or two of easy, quiet isolation before death. He could not be called the most stalwart disciple of Yevon, even in so pious a landscape as this island: his prayers were few, and he made a point of avoiding the Preacher if he could. The man was somewhat incorrigible, and a little loud for this aged merchant's ears.
So he thought. Long and hard, he thought, leaving the twins alone, pestering neither. He'd never had a family, really: aside from a rather virile brother and his numerous spawn, the man had little exposure to children. So, he thought like a good salesman. How had he satisfied his customers? What had he done to loosen their lips along with their wallets. . .?
Ah yes, of course; satiate them first. After drifting aimlessly on the ocean, these two castaways were surely possessed of gnawing hunger by now. His stands in the market had always boasted a few free treats for customers to nibble on, providing they were willing to buy something else as well. Pleased with his initial plan, he skittered off, tossing to the twins a cursory promise of good food before retreating to his kitchen. For whatever reason, it had never occurred to him to be surprised that the little girl had screeched out in Al Bhed: being a merchant, it was his business to know every language in Spira, and to know them well, thus making a mental switch between each a rather natural thing.
---
Celina could hear her hesitant benefactor rustling about in the adjoining kitchen, chopping and cleaning both meat and vegetables in relative silence. She rose above the covers after a few moments, a little happy that food was coming: her parents had taught her enough English to get by with, and she'd gotten the gist of what he had said. Mahri, on the other hand, had been very negligent in paying attention to the lessons, and thus knew absolutely nothing of the language. Hence, had he even felt inclined to answer the man's questions, he hadn't understood a single word of what was spoken anyway.
Speaking of Mahri, he had clambered up on the bed beside his sister, staring into her big, emerald – now profoundly red, and bloated - swirling eyes with a pair that perfectly mirrored them, albeit crystal clear. She clung to him, and renewed her sobbing.
---
"Oh, bugger, she's at it again. . ." The man could not help but mentally curse: and why should he not be entitled to it? This situation had never been in the proverbial deck that was retirement. He hadn't signed a contract forcing him to take care of one absolute loudmouth and a stone statue. His wrath was bore upon the long, thin veggies that he sliced with practiced ease and arranged alongside some cooked local squid. It was one of his standard meals.
No, not in the deck at all.
His was only a small cabin, after all: a kitchen, a bedroom, a small living room with a nice view, and a porch. About fifteen feet from the house was a shed that served nicely as both a basement and, well, a shed: any superfluous items he no long felt necessary to display fell within its walls. It was enough for he, and he alone, to live comfortably in. So, how could he share with these kids? How was it at all fair?
When he got a look at the little girl again, though, as she timidly accepted his proffered meal, with her huge, red eyes and shaking composure, he couldn't help but feel profound pity. Whatever had happened to these kids, they'd gone through hell.
He allowed them to eat in relative silence, chewing slowly on his own meal. He would've thought that the squid would raise a ruckus, as most people didn't much care for the texture: the twins, on the other hand, both seemed to eat with great relish. He was pleasantly surprised at the development.
After removing their emptied plates, he decided it was time to try again. Pulling up his rocker, he awkwardly addressed the children.
"Um. . . hiya."
Celina offered a small, mournful "hello" in response. It came out a little awkward, and heavily accented. The man mused on this, briefly, but another quick look into her eyes offered the truth.
"Ah, sorry! You're Al Bhed, aren't you? E'mm cfedlr ujan du syga drehkc aycean. Cunno 'puid dryd." Despite lacking the deep, distinct Al Bhed voice, his rendition of the language was flawless, and perfectly understandable.
Celina smiled a tiny smile, somewhat relieved that her host could speak Al Bhed, and feeling a little less miserable now that a good meal had found its way into her stomach.
"Fryd'c ouin hysa, mycc?" he continued, now that the first hurdle had been crossed.
"Celina. Yht ra'c Mahri." She nodded briefly at her brother, who still clutched his sister and watched the old man with distrustful, shying eyes. "Fru'na oui? Mahri inquired in a small, blunt voice.
Simply speaking about himself seemed to make the old man positively beam, as though he were a national celebrity. "Sa? E's dra knayd sanlryhd, O'aka dra XVII, uv luinca!"
"www. j-maxx.net /abtrans /translite. php" Note: Look here for some nice Al Bhed translating goodness. Eliminate the spaces, of course, as it keeps taking out the url when I put it in whole.