Who We Choose To Be

Nerolia never hesitated to follow her childhood friend and now Clan Mother Anjali. As she had told her longtime confidante, she hadn't found her at last to give up on her so soon. The leather worker had always marveled at Anjali's strong faith, because it wasn't just blind belief; but embodied and truly lived spiritual anchoring. She had also seen how she looked at her chosen mate and how her wife did the same. They were bound with the gods' blessings with no shadow of a doubt, It was crystal clear even to Nerolia.

So, she had packed once again, even though she had barely been setting up and organizing her new workshop when the spouses had returned from their keryon gedanes. Also, she had begun to form a few bonds in the other clan, and all of them were following as well, so it was a no-brainer for her leather worker. She had packed everything, grateful for the opportunity to use some verne to drag the heavier equipment all the way to their new home.

They had only reached their destination a few days ago, but all the travelers were already unpacking. While she didn't know yet where she would be setting up her new space, Nerolia didn't mind, for she wasn't a priority like Sister Ashia was a healer. She had provided her with some linens and bandages back at the previous enclave, for she was also a tailor. So, she had naturally volunteered to help the blonde organize her new dwelling.

They had exchanged words a few times during the trip, and Nerolia found herself impressed with the talents Ashia had even though just like herself, she was fairly young. The cataclysm hadn't spared many, and all survivors had to put their best foot forward to help make their people stronger.

She just returned from having bathed, and her long black tresses fell down her back, still dampening her crimson hooded vest, as she reached Ashia's dwelling, seeing the many boxes outsides of the new place.

"Good morning, Ashia," she called out with a smile.

It had taken Ashia weeks to organize her supplies and medicines in the cavernous dwelling she used to reside. Jars and small wooden boxes lined hand chiseled shelves, baskets were placed strategically near cots and tables, and tools to grind and mix tinctures and powders or to mend wounds were always clean and easily accessible in pouches and drawers.

Now she had to rethink everything because the hut set aside for her larger than the previous space, which even had an adjoining bedroom off the main room where she would initially see and assess the clansmen. It almost felt like a guilty luxury having her own personal space. Which is why it would be unpacked last. The priority were the healing supplies and even if her new clan were less prone to injury, Ashia wouldn't be lured into complacency. The lush land that the Ember's made their home did not deter Dathomir's untamed land and creatures from causing unforeseen harm.

She recently had awakened and padded along the slab hut barefoot, still wearing her sleeping clothes - a thin strapped top and matching knee length skirt lined with furs. She had lugged a larger crate to what would be her main work bench and pried the seal top off with a metal bar with a grunt. The bar and top were gently set aside and slowly Ashia brought out jars and containers to catalog and place atop the table. She was hoping a logical sense of organizing these medicines would naturally arise.

Nerolia's voice forced her to look up and smiled in kind. "Well, it is a morning," she teased. "And you're still here wanting to help me after seeing all the crates outside ..."

She reached behind, grabbed the bar and extended it outwards to the tailor. "So for that, you've got my gratitude."

When the Great Sister had challenged him, and obviously won the fight, Kavan had found with surprise that she had thus become his new owner. It had been quite unexpected, and for what he had gathered, it had been to both the Clan Mother's wife and himself. He hadn't known what to think of it at first, especially when it had eventually meant to move to another destination; but he had followed without any fuss. After all, what mattered most was his survival; and if it meant crossing a long distance to build yet another new life on Dathomir, he was up for it.

As weird as it was for the former soldier, he was getting the hand of that whole clan life. He still hated being a slave, and was doing his very best to eventually be permitted to become a full fledged brother among the new clan. He had seen how some other men had risen above the condition of slaves, especially in the Ember Claws; and he wanted that. It would take time, strength, and perseverance; but he would get there at some point. He wouldn't remain a slave forever.

The long travel time had also been the opportunity for him to continue to learn the languages, at least the main two dialects that cohabited. His accent was still horrendous; but people understood him better. So that was an improvement.

He had helped carry certain things during the long journey, and unsure what to do with himself, for even the Great Sister had been busy with other things rather than simply issuing commands, he had been helping around the camp for various tasks, mostly carry heavy things, fix and clean weapons. At least it gave him something to do.

He had decided to go check on Sister Ashia, who was responsible for his good recovery from the spar weeks ago. He had already noticed where she had been given space to set up her new tent, so he made his way there.

Upon his approach, he caught sight of both the blonde healer and another sister, Nerolia, he thought, the leatherworker and tailor of the former Clan. He hadn't expected that, and he knew too well that she had really scornful views of men, especially foreigners.

He waited for the women to see him and he bowed when his arrival was noticed.

"Can I help?"

He didn't move, waiting to see how they would react.

Nerolia liked how the new living grounds where the Ember Claws roamed were not all underground. She liked being able to have stone dwelling and strong tents, only needing to open a door or pull curtains aside to see the sun or the moon. It had spoken to her soul right away, especially after having spent so many months traveling in the wilderness as she had been seeking survivors.

She smiled warmly as she saw Ashia come outside. She was still shocked in the best way possible, that they had been able to find such a talented healer. She had been making some bandages for her, and had other supplies in the making.

"It still is civilization to me after most of the past year spent by myself, you know."

She took the bar and nodded.

"I will have some more leather binds for you in a week. I am waiting for a few tools to be available to finish my workshop."

She walked up to one of the nearby crates, when she felt someone approach. The brunette's expression turned sour as she caught sight of the slave, one of the two skai-men roaming around. She wouldn't mistreat him too much for he belonged to the Great Sister; but it didn't mean she was happy to see him.

Yet, she had enough manners to let Ashia answer the question. After all, it was her space. And not all witches disliked men the same as Lavender Rift-born ones did.

Ashia smiled with understanding. Life was incredibly rough until people could find pockets of civilization. She was lucky herb gathering had saved her from death - much like the Great Sister. She had learned Cearia was away on a hunting trip when lava came through the lands. Funny how the two of them never crossed paths in the wilds until one of her scouting parties had found her on the outskirts of Undead Fire lands.

"Tools?" Ashia perked up with a arm full of jars. She had been emptying another box as Nerolia was speaking. "Is Brother Bastian working on them?"

He was a talented blacksmith and knew he was quite busy with orders that would help build up the settlement. Before Nerolia could answer, the skai man slave that she helped healed arrived. She looked perplexed at his presence as it was quite unexpected. He appeared uninjured so she waited to find out the reasons for his arrival.

"Oh ..." Ashia's posture straightened and wondered if the Great Sister had ordered him here to help. Her hut was a priority to set up. "Yes. The crates can be moved inside." She motioned towards the main room. "In there."

Even though his life had changed when the Great Sister had won him, Kavan's life still remained one of a slave, but with a modicum of agency. Indeed he often made himself useful around the camp, then during the long journey, and now at the enclave of the Ember Claws. Getting to know others allowed him to improve his language skills, as well as glean a more comprehensive understanding of how the Clan operated. It was a long process that was not without hiccups for sure; but he nevertheless felt that he was making some progress.

He sometimes wondered whether the Great Sister would ever take him along with her hunters when leaving for her expeditions. He hadn't asked her about it though. He was taking his time, and continued to prove his worth where he could, so he would hopefully become a full fledged Brother at some point. He hoped for sooner than later; but he remained keenly aware that he could have either not survived the crash on Dathomir, or have gotten killed already.

His expression remained unchanged even as Sister Nerolia's look made it clear his presence was unwanted. At least the healer appeared confused but saw use for his offer.

He bowed his head to her command, and then began to move the indicated crates inside, organizing them so they should be practical for her to sort through.

Nerolia opened a couple of crates, before putting the bar aside for now, and helping Ashia empty the one she was working on. No reason to interfere with the healer's process. She was genuinely happy to help her, as well as get to know her better, now that they were not going to keep traveling across the planet for any foreseeable future.

"Yes, he is," the leather worker replied with a nod.

While she considered men close to commodities, she had to admit that the blacksmith was quite talented. He had proven himself useful, more so than the skai man that had showed up unexpectedly. She let Ashia give him orders, although they didn't sound half as harsh as she had heard Sisters address men when growing up in the Lavender Rift Clan.

Yet she wouldn't display actual anger towards the slave that the Great Sister owned, unless he made a mistake, in which case, he was still a slave and she had a birth right to be dissatisfied. For now, she simply ignored him.

"I hope to have the new tools by the next new moon. I can already craft some items though. Is there anything you need at the moment?"

She watched the skai man for a few moments, watching his efficiency at hauling the crates and purposefully placing them for ease of access. Ashia privately commended his thoughtfulness as not many slaves would put forth that much effort. Unpacking may take less time then the healer first thought with all this unexpected help.

"Bastian will make sure your tools are perfect," she said with a firm nod. "I still use the ones he made for me when I came to the clan."

Nerolia's offer gave the healer pause as she looked around the room. Most all of her supplies were still packed away so Ashia relied on memory.

She pulled the top off of a crate while answering. "Can you make wraps for splints? I hate to use the bandages for that."

Ashia gently ran her hand over the jars and boxes, inspecting them for damage. "Would be a waste to use them for that. And lately, the clan has more sprains and dislocations that need stabilizing. I'm still wondering if that's better or worse than bleeding."

One by one she set the items on the table as she emptied the crate, while stealing a few glimpses at Kavan to make sure he was still managing the task alone. "But it's not a surprise since the clan is building the grounds more."

Food was plentiful and the hunters did not have to go out as often and there were more hands to handle the beasts. The majority of injuries were during construction of new huts, like Ashia's.

Kavan's Dathomiri might still be a work-in-progress; but Sister Nerolia's body language was enough for him to understand how displeased she was with his presence. In a weird way having become the Great Sister's slave had some perks; for he got slightly yelled at. It wasn't that he wanted any special treatment, and he really didn't get any because he was still a slave; but every tiny progress he got to get higher in the food chain was a good thing.

He had been doing his best to improve his understanding and speaking of the language, the latter being still a far cry from where he hoped to get; but he liked being able to follow conversations with greater ease, as he was doing with the two women.

He worked on the crates, easily adjusting them for ease of access. Having worked in the military and as a smuggler, he was good at moving heavy things around and ensuring it was done in the most efficient way.

He was working as a shadow for a while, efficient and quiet.

His attention was caught by the window to the side of the room where the healer could work on her patients. He realized that it needed some upkeep and fixing. He could make it better, and even improve the shutters he thought. That would make all the more sense for the healer's patient room.

He left both women to their discussion as he was inspecting it carefully before he would offer to upgrade it.

Nerolia still felt that she had kept the last year traveling, never getting to truly settle down; but she was looking forward to change that as they were now making a new home with the Ember Claws. She loved the idea of staying put, save for some wanderings for materials.

Having a real workshop again was music to her ears; and she was looking forward to her new tools and finishing to set up her new place. She loved creating, as much as being of service as a tailor and leather worker. She knew that a few who had traveled from the previous settlement had been in need of new clothing, and she was looking forward to provide as such. She had also been working on a new leather piece and an amulet for Matier, as a token of gratitude. She had talked about it with the Clan Mother, who knew Nerolia's talents well, having witnessed her friend acquire them over the years.

"This is what I heard about him. I am looking forward to have new tools, given how much of a latecomer I was at the last enclave."

She smiled to the healer, helping her move items to their new home.

"I can make wraps for sure. How many do you need? I'm thinking a couple dozens for starters; but these are easy to make."

She couldn't help smirking at the observation about the state of injuries for the clan members.

"You'll soon have some births as well, since some of our sisters are with child."

She had been working on some infant wraps as well, and simple blankets and clothes.

"I hope I am still able to make child garments for it has been a few years since I did such things."

"Sha... a few dozen would be good to start. If things change and I need more, I know who I can rely on," she added with a grateful smile. A smile that only grew wider with the talk of children.

The thought of assisting with the births was welcomed change to the illness and injuries that filled her days and nights. To help bring new life into the world, to bolster the numbers of the clan, was a gift from the gods. It was a thought that Ashia considered for herself, but there was too much work to be done to find a suitable mate or breeder at this time.

"I look forward to it. I pray to the gods that the children arrive unharmed and well. Then we can have the first celebrations of life in our new home."

As if they needed more reasons to celebrated but new life was sacred.

"Oh I'm sure it'll come back to you," she said with encouragement. "A lot of times we think our minds forget but it's right there."

She gestured to Nerolia's hands. "The hands never forget. But ... they may need a little practice."

The few months Kavan had been with the witches had taught him a few things about the cataclysm they had experienced even longer before his fated crash on the planet. He could understand that new life was even more precious to them. And in a weird way, he felt that he might be able to provide a few things to the Clan if there were new babies. Ironically he had always liked kids and it had been his friend Tonyh who had unexpectedly become a father among their group. He remembered having made random toys with pieces of metal and fabrics for little Sonya, even when her Dad could buy her any toy under the sun. He had a knack for coming up with random ideas that appeared to amuse babies.

In between moving things around to help the healer set up, he found a pause in the conversation between both women and decided to speak up, even though he knew that Nerolia would likely want to tear him a new one. This one was one hell of a tough cookie, even though he understood that various Clans had united under the current banner, and some of them were even more anti-men than others.

"Are there baby... items... I could help make?"

He inwardly cringed as his use of the local language was less broken but still heavily accented. He was genuinely willing to help, still finding his footing around the new clan. He had seen some men who had risen to actual Brothers and even freer than some he had seen at the previous enclave. He would get there one day, and he would do his best to help the people he now lived with.

Nerolia smiled to Ashia, when the healer confirmed that her estimated number for starters worked just fine.

"You will have them soon."

She had always enjoyed traveling to get dyes and animal skins she could use for her creations; but until she had arrived at the enclave of the Ember Claws, she hadn't realized how having a real workshop and place to call home was something she had missed.

"What about you? Is there anything you would need besides healing supplies?"

Even before the long travel to their new home, she had already got back to work to the best of her abilities, to create some quilts or clothing for her fellow Clan members.

When the slave suddenly spoke up, she was tempted to snap at him; but a conversation she had had with Anjali a while ago had her weirdly bite back on a few choice words. Instead, she just let Ashia answer the male's question.