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⸻ introduction

name   ayah mhakaraccaepithet   ayah lightfootage   17 summersgender   femalenameday   27th sun of the 6th umbral moon (27/12)race   miqo'teclan    keeper of the moon

• appearance
• personality
• abilities

⸻ appearance

⸻ at a glance

     Ayah is Miqo'te - a felinoid race, smaller and narrower all round than the average Midlander Hyur, with the ears and long, eloquent tails of cats. Ayah's tail is fluffy, the same shade of soft pink as her hair, and curls up at the tip. She has pale white stripes on her cheeks and a darkening of the skin about her nose, and when she smiles or laughs small fangs are visible in her mouth. She has freckles, but no visible scarring. Her ears are pierced. She is graceful and light on her feet, walking and running with a spring in her step; a lot of her body language reads as feline. She is lively, expressive and easy to read, with emotions showing in the set of her ears and tail as well as on her features. When Ayah speaks, and it is very difficult to stop her when she has a mind to, her accent is hard to place, but clearly Germanic.     When not dressed for adventuring, her personal style is rustic, feminine, and a little old-fashioned. She takes care of her appearance and is particular about her clothing. Where possible, she wears skirts and high-heeled boots or shoes. She favors soft colors and floral patterns. Aside from the traditional ear clasps of the Keepers of the Moon, Ayah wears necklaces, long earrings, and rings - partly as a simple preference, but also because for an adventurer the right accessories could be all the difference between a critical hit and an embarrassing fumble. Frequently, she paints her nails.

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⸻ personality

     Upbeat, determined and tender-hearted, Ayah is a kind, even selfless person, who often goes out of her way to help other people. She is enthusiastic and driven, though she can be naive, sometimes even dangerously so, and her passions can occasionally prove to be misdirected. She is extremely earnest and consequently very easy to tease, often blushing and becoming flustered when she believes that she has embarrassed herself, and finds it difficult to handle unexpected or awkward situations without clamming up or starting to cry. Normally, though, she comes across as cheerful and friendly, with an open nature and a ready smile.     Ayah is a straightforward girl whose emotions run very close to the surface: she is not the kind of person who could ever be accused of hiding her feelings. When she's happy it's obvious just to look at her, and it's almost a running joke how easy it is to provoke her to tears. She's the girl who cries over a tragic ballad or love poetry, the one who tears up over praise, or because her friends are just that wonderful and she simply doesn't know how else to handle it. It's an embarrassing tendency she wishes she could grow beyond, not least of which because she'd like to stop being teased about it. It's not something she feels is very becoming of a hero: she quite desperately wants to be seen as strong, reliable and reassuring, but she can't easily hide it when she's on the verge of falling apart herself. Despite her gentle nature and slightly prim appearance, however, Ayah is not squeamish: her upbringing in the Twelveswood put paid to any notion that she would be able to get through life without getting her hands dirty.     A natural sidequester, Ayah is the kind of person who will gladly stop what she's doing to help a lost child, retrieve suspiciously couerl-like kittens from high places, deliver misplaced mail, and chase coblyns out of the ceruleum. Though she is easily disappointed and reacts very strongly to bad news and bad luck, she is damnably difficult to actually discourage. No matter how upset her trials and tribulations may make her, they ultimately serve to do nothing but make her try again and try harder. She finds it very difficult to leave well enough alone, experience having so far taught her that she absolutely can find her way to overcome her troubles, no matter how insurmountable they may seem, if she simply worries at them enough. Ayah is, however, not the kind of person who insists that she has to solve all of her problems herself and, very much aware that there are many things she is incapable of or doesn't understand as she is, is more than grateful to rely on the talents and experience of her friends and allies if they are willing and able.     Gentle by nature, her experiences since leaving home have proven to be something of a baptism of fire. Her continued determination to believe the best of people is as much a product of stubbornness as is is genuine optimism about the nature of man. Ayah doesn't think it fair on the people she will go on to meet to assume they will let her down simply because she has been let down, and badly, before: she would, quite genuinely, rather be constantly disappointed than cynical. Though she was unthinkingly so at the beginning of her journey, her continued idealism is the product of a conscious and concerted effort to hold onto it in the face of sorrow and strife. Difficult though her journey has undoubtedly been, it has also taught her the value of striving for better, and living in hope.     Perhaps fortunately, given the destiny she's inherited, Ayah has a strong sense of right and wrong, and works tirelessly to atone for and overcome the mistakes that she makes. She wants to be looked up to, both as an ideal and as an individual, but more than that she wants to be worthy of being looked up to, and she feels she's a very long way from being that. Her desire to improve her world is surpassed only by her desire to improve herself, and though she's not always sure how she should be going about achieving that ambition, it's not going to keep her from trying.

⸻ statistics

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⸻ abilities

combat

trades

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⸻ background

• background
• biography
• warrior of light

     A child of the Twelveswood, Ayah was born and raised in a Miqo'te hamlet in Peacegarden in the North Shroud, around a bell's walk from the town of Hyrstmill, the largest settlement in the area. Comprised of four extended Keeper of the Moon families and their children, it is known by its inhabitants only as home or the community; outsiders refer to it as the Clowder. An almost exclusively female enclave, it is made up of a series of small treehouses connected by rope bridges, above a forest clearing containing their workshops and storehouses, a well, and a communal fire pit.     Nocturnal and largely self-sufficient, the women and children of the community hunt, catch game and forage for plants, fungi and berries in accordance with Trappers' League guidelines, with responsibility for gathering food falling in the most part to the older daughters of the hamlet. Deciding that the best way to avoid the unwelcome attention of the Wood Wailers was to make themselves too useful to trouble, many of the adult women have taken up trades, allowing them to barter with or sell to the local townsfolk. The community is known for producing woven cloth and blankets, clothing, leather accessories, dyestuffs, soaps and tinctures, and herbal remedies.     Ayah is the oldest daughter of Cemi Mhakaracca, the settlement's alchemist and herbalist, and was brought up by her mother and her mother's wife Pelhi Tayuun, a self-taught conjurer. In the traditional Keeper of the Moon fashion her father, a man named Sahja'a Molkot, does not live with them and was only ever intermittently present in her life, something that both she and her family considered entirely as to be expected. She has younger sisters on Cemi's side, twins Rinh and Hawu Mhakaracca; on Pelhi's side she has an older sister, Khuja Tayuun, and younger sister Nahgo. Nahgo is not only the closest to her in age, but also the blood daughter of Sahja'a Molkot.

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⸻ biography

     Ayah's childhood was happy, peaceful, and largely unremarkable. She was an outgoing little girl, physically precocious, and fond of ballads and traveler's tales. Though she was never very intellectually-inclined, and far keener on playing with her sisters or helping out gathering herbs or in the kitchen than curling up quietly with a book, the girl was possessed of a prodigious memory for songs and verse. Ayah's love for music (and nigh-constant harassment of every adult in the community who could play an instrument) eventually led to her taking up the lyre and, a year or so later, the flute. The love Ayah had for dance proved more troublesome.     It's hard to dance when you have no music to dance to. Ayah did her best, singing and dancing as best she could, inveigling people to play for her. One evening, however, while collecting a damaged kettle from the Hyrstmill forge, she heard the most fascinating music she had ever heard - complex, multilayered, many-voiced - coming through the open windows of a shopkeep's otherwise unremarkable home. She stayed to listen, only leaving when the music stopped (and getting quite a scolding for it: didn't I tell you to come straight home?). From then on she was a regular presence at the windows of the shopkeepers' home - to the extent that the shopkeeper himself noticed and, growing anxious, reported it to the Wood Wailers.     It's never a nice feeling to have two tall lancemen in armor show up at your home in the middle of the day. The Wailers however, realizing that the girl the shopkeepers had seen haunting their home was a mere seven summers old, opted to be kind, gently questioning Ayah about what had drawn her there. When she stammered out that it had been the music, the men simply nodded: the shopkeeper, one Joseph Weaver, had recently obtained an orchestrion, and he made a habit of listening to the rolls after dinner. With the misunderstanding cleared up, and Joseph Weaver declaring that she could listen to his orchestrion just as well by his fireside as shivering by the shutters, Ayah soon became something of a fixture in the Weaver home. It was in his parlor, under the watchful eye of Meriel Weaver, that she took her first dance lesson alongside their daughters Keelty and Keitha, and in Keelty Weaver that she found a friend for life.    Though she and Keelty often dreamed of leaving Peacegarden, the first time the outer world intruded on Ayah's quiet, measured existence in any way other than occasional visits from travelers and merchants was during her eleventh summer, when the lesser moon Dalamud fell from the sky. Unable to do much more than watch, Cemi, Pelhi and the girls were reliant on rumors, hearsay and what news made it to Hyrstmill to understand the calamity at hand. As Keepers of the Moon, who had long revered Dalamud - seeing it as their guardian Menphina's loyal hound - the idea that it could be responsible for their destruction was almost unthinkable. Then came rumors of a war with the expansionist Garlean Empire, and news that the Order of the Twin Adder was to be dispatched to the Cartenau Flats.     As disaster loomed ever closer, Cemi and her daughters clung to their community and one another, at first scarcely venturing outside of their enclave, then their houses. Finally, even their homes in the treetops grew to feel unsafe: fearing the worst, the four families that made up the commune took what shelter they could find in the lowest and sturdiest of their workshops, gathering bedding and all the food and medicines they could stockpile. As the noise increased and Dalamud swallowed the sky they huddled together, praying to the Twelve for deliverance, bracing themselves for what they were all but certain would be the end. Miraculously, it wasn't.     The Calamity, for Ayah, was loud and frightening - but also confounding. Just as she was sure the world would shake itself apart, everything dropped away. In this sudden stillness she heard a woman speaking to her, whispering that she would be all right. And that, it turned out, was all it would be. When the shaking stopped and the noise died away, she was left with nothing but the dawning realization that they all - she, and her family, and the women and children of the community - had survived largely unscathed. Her first thought, once the shock of it had had time to wear off, was for Keelty Weaver. Running from the house, she met her friend on the road to Hyrstmill: Keelty, after learning that her own family was okay, had come after her.     Immediately there was work to be done, and all who had been spared the Calamity's worst effects were pressed to service. There was cleaning, and mending, and tending the wounded who, remembering the commune's reputation as healers, had come to them for help. The days and weeks following passed in a blur: many had been less fortunate than they, and Ayah would find herself enlisted to help gathering herbs and formulating medicines with her mother and delivering them to the needy, errands of mercy that took her away from Hyrstmill and Peacegarden for the first time, to areas far worse-off than her own. She grew, though somewhat guiltily, to enjoy these journeys for their own sake, and it set her to thinking seriously about traveling beyond the Shroud when she was of age.    Though she left home hoping to find work as a bard or a dancer - believing, with some justification, that her skills as a musician and performer are by far the most valuable things she has to sell - Ayah was realistic enough about her ambitions to have backup plans. It was thus that she set her sights on Gridania as the place she would choose to strike out alone from. Not only was it close enough to home that she could, in the event of an emergency, get back there with comparative ease, it also housed the Archers' and Botanists' Guilds, both of which disciplines she had prior experience in, if no formal training. This would, or so she hoped, allow her to earn her keep while practicing her art. Bidding her family and friends a fond farewell and promising that she would write, she set out for the city, completely unaware that a far different fate awaited her on her arrival.

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• background
• biography
• warrior of light

⸻ warrior of light

     Born too late. Called too soon. That's the usual estimation of Ayah Mhakaracca - and it's an opinion the girl herself more than shares. If Hydaelyn's chosen champion hadn't perished in the Calamity, would she ever have amounted to much more than a backwoods bard? The day that She first spoke to her, the day that Dalamud fell, had She felt the passing of Her last great hope, and reached out in desperation to Ayah: to a frightened child of no more than twelve summers, and the closest thing to a chosen one She had left?     It all sounded so simple, in the ballads of the bards. There, heroes were bold and brave; their deeds were pure and noble; and their courage never faltered. But life was never that simple - and sometimes, Ayah misses the songs.

• a realm reborn
• heavensward
• stormblood
• shadowbringers
• endwalker
• dawntrail

• background
• biography
• warrior of light

⸻ a realm reborn

small beginnings

     She made for an unlikely saviour, this girl who never quite meant to be an adventurer. Plucked from obscurity by the stirring in her of the Echo, a blessing bestowed upon the chosen by the Goddess Hydaelyn, a more perilous gift Ayah Mhakaracca could not have hoped for.     Ayah found her calling a difficult one, especially at first. At sixteen summers, she was optimistic and naïve, with a gentle disposition: she had never imagined that she would do anything more dangerous with her life than sing of the bold deeds of others. The Adventurer’s Guild was, in her eyes, simply a place to find odd jobs while she waited to settle into something more steady; she accepted Minfilia Warde’s offer to join the Scions of the Seventh Dawn only because it was never in her nature to turn down a request for help. Looking back on her decision, even knowing all that it would come to cost her and the people she loved, Ayah still couldn’t imagine choosing different.     Bravery was alien to her, and something that had to be learned. She still accounts walking into the Sastasha Seagrot to be the most frightening thing she has ever done, and nothing she has faced since required her to muster up quite so much courage. Facing down Ifrit, her terror was almost as overwhelming to her as the Primal’s baleful influence was to her fellow-captives. Yet if Ayah had any second thoughts about her suitability for her new role, the news of strange happenings in the North Shroud town of Fallgourd Float – dangerously close to her home in Hyrstmill – chased them away. The fear she felt at imagining her mother and sisters falling prey to Ascian machinations preyed upon her mind, imagining how that same fear must have gripped the families of those powerless to save themselves. Her responsibility was plain.     Though she had never asked for Hydaelyn’s blessing, though all too often she wished it had fallen tom somebody else, Ayah’s unasked-for gift gave her a protection that so many others lacked: didn’t she have a duty to protect them from the same sad fate as befell the tempered captives in Thanalan? Frightened and failing as she so often believed herself, she couldn’t simply turn away and go back to thinking of nothing but dried herbs and ballads.

survivors

     A sheltered girl, spared by chance from the worst effects of the Calamity, Ayah was utterly unprepared to face the horrors that awaited her after the Garlean attack upon the Scions in the Waking Sands. Walking in on not a homecoming but the brutal and bloody leavings of a massacre, she had found herself frozen in terror and in shock, unable for a time to comprehend what it was she was seeing. She never counted the days she spent in the small sanctuary she found in the Church of Saint Adama Landama; if it hadn’t been for the mercies of kindly Father Iliud, and the strange kinship she felt with fellow lost soul Marques, her grief could have easily overwhelmed her.     What she felt the most keenly in the wake of the massacre was desperation. Though Ayah sleepwalked through the early days of her acquaintance with Alphinaud, following him to Coerthas only because she had no purpose of her own, she was snapped back into focus by the threat to the life of Francel de Haillenarte. Ayah threw herself headlong into the quest to prove him innocent of heresy, frantic to prove she could still be a force for good. When the plot that had blackened his name was uncovered, sparing him from execution, she could have cried for sheer relief.     It was the need to set things right, the feeling that somehow she owed it to Minfilia and the Scions, that gave her the bravery to go against Garlemald. The relief she felt at their successful rescue was short-lived, and she was shaken to the core by the horrifying and murderous cost at which she bought her victory against Rhitahtyn sas Arvina. The brutality of Rhitahtyn's end left her in no mood to celebrate; mercifully, she would be given little time to brood over it. Her unshakeable drive to protect those who could not protect themselves, and her fierce hope that she could still find a way to save Thancred from the Ascian Lahabrea, urged her onward – into the heart of Castrum Meridianum, and ultimately to triumph over the Garlean threat.

for all eorzea

     Hero. It was a strange mantle Ayah found hanging from her shoulders. It would have been easy for her sudden fame to go to her head, had Ayah been able to forget the price at which it had been bought. Given no time to rest upon her laurels, she vowed that she would prove equal to the various demands upon her time, much as she might have imagined that the fragile peace Eorzea had found could have spelled the end to her own involvement in its affairs. A naïve hope, she soon realized: reality was never so neat as the stories, and never noticed that you’d sung the last verse moons ago.     With new fame came new demands, and much to her own surprise Ayah found herself dealing with calls upon her time from every corner of the realm: calls that were in their turn wellsprings of joy and grief. Her budding friendship with G’raha Tia was cut off by the closing of the doors to the Crystal Tower; Moenbryda was a shattering reminder of how little, sometimes, she could do. That she could find no way to save either of them haunted her.     Alisaie Leveilleur was another matter entirely. Their time together was all too brief, marked by tribulation; Alisaie, too, was gone too soon. And yet even once they had parted ways Ayah could not quite keep herself from thinking of her, and with a certain sense of anticipation. She was sure as she knew anything that they would meet again.     She did not think much of the storm that was brewing in Ul’dah until it broke with her at the heart of it. The events of the Bloody Banquet that saw Ayah tumble from grace – leaving her almost friendless and widely suspected of regicide – left her unmoored and almost entirely overwhelmed. She found it hard to countenance that anyone would consider her a threat to be neutralised. Her arrest and escape passed in a blur of tears and terror, and yet she found that she could bear it so much more bravely than she could ever have dreamed. Alphinaud needed her, and Tataru; her friends’ sacrifice to win her her freedom had to be made worthwhile. What else could she do? She would carry on.

• a realm reborn
• heavensward
• stormblood
• shadowbringers
• endwalker
• dawntrail

• background
• biography
• warrior of light

⸻ heavensward

in from the cold

     Ishgard was nowhere Ayah would ever have chosen to stay. To her it was nothing but a place from stories and song, as cold and remote as faerieland. Yet it was Ishgard she found herself washed up in, thanks to the kindness of Ser Haurchefant and the Count de Fortemps, and she determined that she should make the best of it.     In truth, she had been hoping for nothing so much as to go home: her heart was in Eorzea, with her missing friends. Yet she hated the thought of simply sitting idle while she waited for a chance to clear her name, and so Ayah jumped at the chance to make herself useful. It hardly seemed her place to start meddling in affairs of state, and she certainly didn’t seek out to cause trouble. And yet with Ishgard so hostile to outsiders, even ones with the protection of House Fortemps, and Alphinaud and Tataru in danger, there was never any doubt that she’d come to their defence. If it meant painting a target on herself and drawing the attention of the Archbishop Thordan, she accepted that consequence quite willingly.     Ayah was grateful for the chance to leave the city, and the gazes that followed a sight as peculiar to Ishgardian eyes as she made everywhere she went. Out in the wilds she felt useful again: the road to the Churning Mists was a long and a hard one, and yet she was so much more able to rise to its demands than she had been to anything Ishgard had asked of her. Mediating between Estinien and Ysayle proved more problematic, and yet for the sake of their shared mission she persevered, attempting to bring calm where consensus was impossible.     The truths their little party found in Zenith proved less of a shock to Ayah than to her Ishgardian-born companions. With both Estinien and Ysayle forced to confront what they were unwilling to countenance, she felt helpless to mend the rift the dragon Hraesvelgr’s words had caused in what, in truth, had always been an ill-matched and disunited band. Yet, for all the sense Ishgardian perfidy had made of Nidhogg’s rage, she could not permit their children’s children to continue to pay the price for their ancestors' wrongs. There had to be a way to free both dragon and man from the chains of their past, and she was determined to find it.

what suits a hero

     Ser Haurchefant’s death was devastating. It was his word that had brought Ayah to Ishgard, his kindness and faith that had opened the doors of Fortemps Manor to her and her friends when they needed sanctuary the most. That the crusade she’d never meant to be fighting had cost her first and fastest Ishgardian friend his life was a pain unlike any other. The guilt she felt on breaking the news to his father almost choked her, and his reaction broke something inside of her, or something else. She had never in all her days wished vengeance on another living thing, and yet the oath she swore that Ser Zephirin would pay for his crime was entirely heartfelt. Before Haurchefant’s death, Ayah had not quite felt this battle her own. In its wake, it felt very personal indeed. Ysayle Dangoulian’s sacrifice steeled her resolve: no more Ishgardians should give their lives in service of the Archbishop’s lies.     A long-awaited reunion with Scion Y’shtola Rhul, rescued from drifting in the Lifestream, gave Ayah and her companions the guidance they needed to take the battle to Thordan and the Knights Twelve. On the floating continent of Azys Lla, an ancient creation laboratory stirred back into life by the Archbishop’s arrival, she discovered the horrifying extent of his ambitions: ascending to a Primal-like state, fuelled by the prayers of the Ishgardian faithful, he would rule over Eorzea by divine right. Anathema to Ayah, after all she’d seen. She had pledged to avenge Haurchefant and Ysayle, and avenge them she did – striking down the empowered King Thordan where he stood.     Though victory against Thordan was hard-won, it offered no more than a temporary reprieve. Ayah scarce had time to catch her breath before she was watching, appalled as Estinien, overcome by the power dormant in the great wyrm's disembodied eyes, succumbed to possession by the vengeful spirit of the dragon Nidhogg. Her safe return to Ishgard felt like no victory at all, and the girl’s mood was sombre as she arrived back in the Pillars, there to explain all that had come to pass.

the oncoming storm

     Estinien wasn’t the only one lost to her. Reunited with Thancred Waters following a tip-off about a group of Primal-slayers calling themselves the Warriors of Darkness, it was plain to Ayah that the missing Minfilia preyed heavily upon his mind. Following Minfilia’s traces to the Aetherial Sea, she discovered to her dismay that the woman she knew was gone – her soul subsumed to Hydaelyn. Returning to Ishgard heavy-hearted, Ayah vowed that if she could not save Minfilia, she would at least save Estinien from his fate. With the help of Hraesvelgr, she and Alphinaud wrested the eyes from Estinien’s bloodied armour, freeing his soul from Nidhogg’s baleful influence.     Though Nidhogg’s death marked an end to the Dragonsong War, Ayah would be given no time to rest upon her laurels. The sudden arrival in Ishgard of Alisaie Leveilleur saw to that. Any joy Ayah might have felt at her reunion with this girl who had intrigued her so would be entirely lost to the circumstances of it: gravely wounded following a run-in with the Warriors of Darkness, for some time Alisaie's life was feared for. Though she endeavoured to comfort Alphinaud as best she could, Ayah’s own anxiety had her nerves on edge. Mercifully, the crisis proved short-lived, and with Alisaie’s recovery came news that Ayah welcomed with a strange delight: she would be traveling with the Scions forthwith.     Strange, too, how Alisaie's presence heartened her. Her compassion for Ga Bu, an orphaned Kobold child tempered by the primal Titan, her unflinching determination facing the Warriors of Darkness: this was the girl Ayah remembered from their too-brief time in the Allagan hulks. Knowing that Alisaie would be by her side as she came face to face with whatever awaited her in war-torn Ala Mhigo made Ayah feel, for the first time, as if she was perhaps where she was meant to be.

• a realm reborn
• heavensward
• stormblood
• shadowbringers
• endwalker
• dawntrail

• background
• biography
• warrior of light

⸻ stormblood

born from blood

     It didn’t even start well.     Before the Eorzean campaign to liberate Ala Mhigo had so much as begun, it had cost them dear. Scion Papalymo Totolymo lay dead, devastating Ayah all over again, and the confessions it forced from his long-time companion Yda, now revealed as Yda’s younger sister Lyse, had shaken her confidence. Though Ayah didn’t blame Lyse her deception – who knew what she would have done, in her place? – it was an uncomfortable beginning for a venture in which she would need to trust her companions totally. Initial gains against the Garleans were soon wrested back after a bloody and brutal attack on the Resistance hideout at Rhalgr’s Reach, and a terrifying encounter for Ayah with crown prince Zenos, a cold-blooded maniac with his sights set on Eorzea’s champion.     Realizing the futility of the direct approach, the Alliance hatched a second plan: the Scions, led by Ayah herself, would head to occupied Doma and stoke the flames of rebellion there, forcing the Garleans to fight on two fronts. Leaving Alphinaud in Kugane, Ayah travelled with Alisaie and Lyse to the Ruby Sea. Under different circumstances, it could very easily have been fun: not so with their companion Gosetsu having fallen into the hands of Yotsuyu goe Brutus, the vicious and merciless Garlean Viceroy of Doma. While Ayah fretted, Alisaie stepped up: negotiating with the Confederate pirates who ran the waterway, parlaying with the Blue Kojin, proving both her mettle and her pragmatism in battle. How Alisaie professed to be impressed by her Ayah couldn’t credit.     Doma was another cruel shock. The people seemed hopeless, even broken; desiring not freedom, but merely to be let alone: it seemed to Ayah only as if they had come too late. When Prince Hien’s retainer Yugiri, desperate to rouse the people from their stupor, threw her all into a foolhardy and desperate plan to assassinate the newly-arrived Zenos, what could Ayah do but go with her?     Zenos, of course, proved more than her match – and yet he saw something in Ayah that had him spare her. It was no comfort at all to know she lived only at his pleasure, and she vowed that next time would be different. She had to stop this man, before more lives were lost to his madness.

the tide turns

     Prince Hien had not been idle during his exile on the Azim Steppe. Falling in with the Mol tribe after suffering a grievous injury, he planned to petition the nomadic Xaela for their aid in the fight against Garlemald. Grateful for the opportunity to help, Ayah and Lyse pledged their support for Hien’s cause, joining him in his trials on his way to victory in the yearly Nadaam, as the Mol’s chosen champion. With the support of the Xaela, the Blue Kojin, and the Confederacy, the newly-energized Domans staged a strike on the Garlean headquarters in Doma Castle. Though it cost them Gosetsu, and the castle itself, Hien and the Domans seized the day – and, with it, their independence.     Heartened, though greatly saddened at the loss of another friend, Ayah returned with the Scions to Ala Mhigo. There, in the wake of a Resistance gain at Castellum Velodyna, a desperate mother had summoned a Primal, Sri Lakshmi, in an attempt to revive the hostage daughter the Garleans had murdered following their defeat. Heedless of the danger to herself, Alisaie beseeched the woman to see reason, to no avail. Though Ayah had no choice but to strike the Primal down, Alisaie’s fervent wish there might be another way – a way which didn’t require Ayah to endlessly imperil herself – touched her. She had grown quite used to the idea that, for those she could yet save, she had no choice but to risk her own life. That Alisaie wished she didn’t have to, even that she could fight in her stead? That startled her. It left her feeling, somehow, seen – and very grateful indeed.     That Alisaie meant it she didn’t doubt – but proof of exactly how serious she was would be soon in coming.     Castrum Abania. Through fire and blood, the Resistance fought their way to its gates. There, Ayah found herself confronting Fordola rem Lupis, a young Ala Mhigan who fought for the Garleans. When Alisaie, thinking Fordola distracted by Lyse, moved to attack her, Fordola rounded on her, striking her down.     Alisaie’s wounds would not prove life-threatening. But her injury struck a devastating blow to Ayah, who had grown used to her presence by her side; who had in some ways been imagining her friend invincible. It took a resolve she scarce imagined she possessed to leave her in the care of the chirugeons at Rhalgr’s Reach. Of course, she trusted them, of course Alisaie was in the best place she could be. Of course she had other things to do. And yet leaving her to their care while she pressed onto the Lochs, to face Fordola and Zenos in Ala Mhigo proper, was one of the hardest partings she had yet faced.     But Alisaie would not want her to sit idle at her side. For her, for the faith she had shown in her, Ayah would fight on.

throw wide the gates

     Winning a war is one thing. Securing the peace quite another. Returning to Doma, to help shore up its still-fragile defences against the threat of renewed Garlean assault, Ayah, Alphinaud and a newly-recovered Alisaie were delighted to discover that Gosetsu had survived the destruction of Doma Caste, and startled to learn that so too had Yotsuyu, albeit at the cost of her memories.     Negotiations with Garlemald had led to the proposal of a prisoner exchange, of Garlean POWs for Doman conscripts; but though he was happy for Yotsuyu to return to Garlemald should she regain her memories, Hien did not feel it right the childlike “Tsuyu” should be part of it. The Garlean emissary sent to oversee the exchange turns out to be Yotsuyu’s brother Asahi: the arrival, with the delegation and the prisoners, of her abusive foster-parents provoked a crisis that snapped Yotsuyu back to herself. First murdering her parents, she apotheosised as the primal Tsukuyomi. Struck down by Ayah, she used the last of her strength to slay Asahi.     Seizing the chance it presented, Alphinaud travelled to Garlemald with the remains of Asahi’s delegation, only for contact with his party to be lost shortly after his departure. Alisaie, unsurprisingly, coped poorly with the uncertainty, though she bravely attempted to hide it. Worse was to come when the Scions, one by one, fell victim to a strange ailment that left them unresponsive, seemingly locked in slumber. Panicked, Ayah clung to Alisaie, desperate to keep her from falling victim, not knowing how that might be accomplished. With Alphinaud returned from Garlemald having also fallen into a coma, it was only the pressure of events and the knowledge that Alisaie was counting on her that kept Ayah, increasingly isolated and desperate, from falling apart.     When, following a savage battle at the Ghimlyt Dark, Alisaie succumbed too, for a time Ayah nearly despaired – though, as ever, she would be given no time to dwell upon her loss. The reappearance of Zenos, thought dead after the Battle of Ala Mhigo, demanded her presence – though it was not at Ghimlyt that she would find her next battlefield.

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⸻shadowbringers

forgiven hesitance

     What did it say about her, that she should be fearing for Alisaie so much more than any of the others? It didn’t make her particularly heroic, of that Ayah was quite sure. And yet, on her arrival on the strange new world of the First, Ayah barely paused to take stock of her surroundings before she was off to Amh Araeng and the hospice for Sin Eaters' victims at Journey's Head. A year she had waited – a year. It scarce seemed credible.     It was not to be a happy reunion, though their meeting was glad enough. Ayah felt a strange pang on encountering Tesleen, part anxiety, part fear, and the girl’s assurance her name had scarce left Alisaie’s lips did very little to quash it. That Ayah liked Tesleen so much herself only made it rather worse. The conversation she wanted to have with Alisaie seemed stupid under the circumstances, and was all too quickly rendered irrelevant when Tesleen was struck down by a Sin Eater and, horrifically, transformed before their eyes. Alisaie was grief-stricken, riddled with guilt, and Ayah knew not how to reach her, or even if it was her place to. What exactly had Tesleen been to Alisaie? Why should that have mattered so much?     The First was a world on the brink. Near-swallowed by primordial Light, Ayah’s own Hydaelyn-granted gifts seemed the only thing that could possibly save it. Guided by a cowled mage known only as the Crystal Exarch, reunited by turn with the rest of the missing Scions, her path led her from one stricken province to another, slaying the Lightwardens that kept the night from returning, dogged at every step by the men of Lord Vauthry of Eulmore and the Ascian Emet-Selch. The truths he had to share of the nature of Hydaelyn and Zodiark, her dark reflection, were not ones that Ayah welcomed. She would have gladly disclaimed them as lies, had the evidence of her own eyes not seemed to support them. It left her uncertain in her aims, unsure of quite whom she could trust: an overheard conversation between Y’shtola and Urianger, about the havoc the Lightwardens’ corrupted aether was wreaking upon her own soul, left even the Scions' loyalties suddenly dubious.     Not that the knowledge changed anything. If the First fell, so too would the Source. Her mission could not be altered: the Lightwardens had to be destroyed. She would simply have to hope that she proved equal to it.

who brings shadow

     It was on the First they lost Minfilia, this time for good. Reborn again and again in the form of the Oracle of Light, she had led the fight against the Lightwardens for a century. Her latest incarnation, a young girl rescued by Thancred from the gaols of Eulmore, would need every mote of Minfilia’s power to track down the last of the Lightwardens. A choice had to be made: either the young “Minfilia” would surrender her body to the Minfilia of the Source, or Minfilia would bequeath her soul to the “Minfilia” of the First. Choosing to shoulder her burden the girl, rechristened Ryne by Thancred, led the Scions to Eulmore, to Vauthry, and to Mount Gulg.     She was very nearly good enough. But it was atop Mount Gulg that Ayah’s own burdens suddenly became too much to bear.     The Light very nearly took her, then and there. She scarce knew what happened next, wracked as she was by pain, scarce holding herself together. But the Crystal Exarch appeared before her, revealed at the last to be her old companion G’raha Tia; Emet-Selch, declaring their fragile truce ended, put a stop to G’raha’s plans to absorb the Light that coursed through her by carrying him off to his lair in the Tempest, in the depths of the ocean. There he told Ayah to come to him, to complete her transformation into the greatest and most terrible of Lightwardens.     The return of the Light to the First was devastating to Ayah: for a time she wanted nothing more than to hide herself away. A stern talking-to by Ardbert, the shade of one of the Warriors of Darkness, steeled her resolve; the sight of Alisaie’s tears as she admitted the Scions had no idea how to help her redoubled it. She could not, would not fall here. Traveling with them to the Tempest, there Ayah discovered a strange simulacrum of the city of Amaurot, once Emet-Selch’s home. Drawn to him through a recreation of Amaurot’s final days, empowered by the sacrifice of Ardbert, aided by fellow-Warriors from beyond the veil, there Ayah succeeded in purging the Light from her body, and with it striking Emet-Selch down.

one step forward

     Though Ayah could travel to and from the Source at will, the same was not true of the Scions. Trapped by the nature of their summoning, a way to bring back their spirits before their bodies succumbed to their prolonged separation would have to be found. On the First, however, the return of the night had not spelled the end of Norvrandt’s problems. The Ascian Elidibus, impersonating Ardbert, sought to challenge Ayah and the Scions, finally forcing a confrontation atop the Crystal Tower that cost the Crystal Exarch his life – but not before an answer could be found to the conundrum of how to get the Scions home. With their souls in spirit vessels carried by Ayah across the rift, they were successfully returned to their selves and reawakened; as too was G’raha Tia in the Crystal Tower, granted the memories of his years as the Crystal Exarch by means of a spirit vessel of his own.     During her time on the First, Alisaie had worked tirelessly to find a way to reverse the corruption that Sin Eaters engendered in the bodies of their victims, finally finding success with the aid of a porxie, a faerie familiar. Hopeful that this might lead at last to a treatment for tempering, she and Ayah, assisted by the reawakened G’raha Tia, set out to the floating continent of Azys Lla, hopeful that the Allagan knowledge of Primal-summoning might prove the key to unlocking the cure. Though frustrating, the hunt was not unfruitful. Traveling to Limsa Lominsa, where the Kobold child Ga Bu had been cared for since his tempering, with the aid of her fellow-Scions Alisaie was able, at last, to free him from Titan’s clutches.     If Alisaie hadn’t been so drained, Ayah swore she could have kissed her. A cure, for tempering. An end, at last, to the dreadful, terminal suffering of so many. How proud she was of her, in that moment. How grateful she was to be her friend.     It wasn’t a moment too soon. A sudden rash of abductions and temperings, and the rise of strange towers across the star, foretold the rise of the so-called Telophori, and the coming of the Final Days. But why, oh why would meeting that threat be so abhorrent to the scholars of Sharlayan? Why would choosing to fight back against fate lead a father to disown his own children? Ayah didn’t, she couldn’t understand. She ached for Alisaie and her brother – and yet they still had the will to fight on. She owed it to them: she’d stand tall.

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⸻ endwalker

cold comforts, burning skies

     Sharlayan would not welcome them. But where else could they go? If the Final Days were to be averted, the Scions would need to avail themselves of Sharlayan’s knowledge. Arriving in the city under the auspices of the Students of Baldesion, Ayah was upset to discover the Leveilleur twins’ disownment by their father was already common currency. With Alisaie refusing to be dejected, throwing herself wholeheartedly into their investigations, Ayah resolved to follow her friend’s lead. And yet it was a coffee break, and the heart-to-heart conversation that followed it, that led the girls to Labyrinthos, stockpiling samples as if preparing for a siege.     The trail led them to the ruins of Garlemald, torn by civil war. The plight of the Garleans – sickened, freezing, living in ruins – touched Alisaie and her brother deeply, and the ever tender-hearted Ayah with them, though their early, fumbling attempts to help caused nothing but further heartbreak. It was a desire, quite desperate, to make amends that led Ayah and the twins to Tertium, in the heart of the city, only for those good intentions to lead them straight into Garlean captivity. For the sake of the twins, under threat of torture, Ayah kept a rein on her terror. Again Alisaie would refuse to be daunted, refuse to stop trying to lend her aid: Ayah likewise. She’d long since learned it wasn’t always easy to do good.     Worse was yet to come. With the twins liberated and the Garleans at Tertium receiving aid, all seemed for a moment to be well – only for a shriek to break forth from the Telophori’s towers, the Garleans to fall under its sway, and for Ayah herself to be dragged away by Fandaniel of the Telophori, to a meeting with Crown Prince Zenos. She would remember what followed as a waking nightmare. Through what malign means she knew not, Zenos had wrested her soul from her body, intending to wreak havoc amongst the Eorzean contingent wearing her face and form. Trapped in the form of a dying Garlean soldier, she would be left to fight her way back to the encampment through the ruins of Garlemald. Lost, terrified, she scarce made it in time – only to see Alisaie and G’raha Tia running to greet “her” return to camp—     She should have had more faith. Her friends knew her far better than that. They knew in a heartbeat that something was wrong.     Zenos’s magicks proved but temporary. Her own interruption stayed his hand long enough for Ayah's soul to reclaim what was hers. Coming back to herself surrounded by her closest comrades, Ayah wept for sheer relief. Shaken to the core, she retreated to her quarters: Alisaie followed, unwilling to leave her alone. The night was dark, and it was difficult, but with Alisaie's aid she came through it: and, come the dawn, she had fallen into a deep and exhausted sleep. By the time she awoke, Ayah knew she could sit idle no longer. Her friends, the contingent, the suffering Garleans – they needed her. There would be time for tears later. Today, she would do what she must.

the last song

     From Garlemald to Thavnair to the seas of the moon herself, from Source to First to Elpis and the World Unsundered, from the furthest reaches of the past to the depths of the Aetherial Sea, wound the path to the end of all things. Horror mounted upon horror: the skies burned; fear and suffering warped men into monstrous Blasphemies. This was how a world was unmade. Ayah fought, of course, harried and fit to drop as she sometimes felt: the Scions with her, of course. And, in time, there was Sharlayan too – and reconciliation, for the Leveilleur twins, with their father Fourchenault, now determined to walk with them no matter what. His apology was heartfelt, and nothing if not public, bringing a tear or two to Ayah’s eyes as she watched it unfold.     The path led, at last, to the end of all things, to a place they dubbed Ultima Thule. A vast and aching void at the ragged edge of time and creation, where the very land they walked on was brought into being only by the sacrifice of Thancred Waters, giving up his life to make something out of nothing. And it was sacrifice that would mark Ayah’s journey through that terrible place, her slow and faltering progress made possible by the Scions, one by one, giving up their lives to aid her passage.     For those we can yet save— the cost was appalling. Almost unbearable. And yet what choice did they have but to give up their lives, and what choice did she have but to bear it? The stakes were simply too high. If salvation for the Source and all her reflections cost Ayah all that she had, with her closest friends now counted only amongst those she had lost… was that not still worth it? So she forced herself onward. Estinien. Y’shtola. Urianger. G’raha Tia…     Coming, at last, to the inevitable.     Alisaie wept, she raged. Alisaie was livid. Alisaie, who had taken loss on loss on loss as hard as Ayah had. To leave her now, to stand all alone again – she couldn’t bear it. Ayah wept with her; she wanted to beg. Wanted to tell her no. You can’t. Don’t you dare leave me, too—     So Ayah let her go. Let her, and Alphinaud, help her over the final threshold.     If she shad truly imagined them gone, she would have broken. Losing the twins, too, would have been more than she could bear. What pushed her onward was hope. There had to be a way forward. Something she couldn’t see, something she hadn’t considered, a chance, a fluke, a lucky break. Anything. Desperate, searching, so hopeful it hurt, she stumbled onward, and up, and up, half-blinded by her own tears. Don’t think about whose backs you walk upon. It couldn’t end like this, she wouldn’t let it. No, no, no…     And it was there, at the end of time and space and hope, that Ayah’s faith was rewarded.

new day's dawn

     It nearly killed her, at the last. Dying, Ayah had thought her faith rewarded. She might after all have lost everything, but Alisaie and the Scions would live. One last miracle brought her back to them, and when she awoke on the journey home, it was to the sound of Alisaie’s sobbing. Unthinking, Ayah reached for her; she held her close, breathing her in: the warmth of her, the life of her. She smiled.     Recuperating in Sharlayan, Alisaie was a constant presence. And there were the Scions, in and out of her sickroom; and in time there were her mothers and sisters, brought from Gridania by Y’mithra Rhul. Her family having never left the Twelveswood, it became, once Ayah was back on her feet, even something of a holiday. Letting Alisaie and her brother go to join the aid efforts in Garlemald should have just been another parting – and yet she missed her so much it felt physical. Confessing as much to Nahgo, one evening, her clever little sister diagnosed the problem immediately. You feather-brain, she told her. You’re in love.     Duty called, of course. Running to Garlemald after Alisaie had seemed like an excellent idea. She might even have done it: but fate had other ideas. And yet, through all her investigations into the Thirteenth, that ache never quite left her, and Nahgo’s words continued to echo, as if in rebuke against her cowardice. What was that they said about absence making the heart grow fonder? This is silly, Ayah told herself, you’ve fought Gods. Confessing to Alisaie exactly how complicated she made her feel should have been straightforward – and yet, the day she at last told her they needed to talk, Ayah thought she’d have taken a gauntlet of a dozen Primals over a flask of tea, and a conversation too long put off.     Alisaie laughed at her words. She shook her head. Ayah, she said, and she sounded exasperated, you have got to stop making me wait.     And it really was that simple.     Then she met Wuk Lamat.

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⸻ dawntrail

go west, young maid

     Wuk Lamat – Lamaty’i? She was exactly what Ayah had needed.     Wuk Lamat was a warm breeze, a burning sun. She talked big, but she dreamed even bigger. And she believed in her, quite fervently: in a way that was almost embarrassing. But not, as it turned out, unprecedented: walking the bright and colourful streets of Tuliyollal, Ayah learned that her reputation had preceded her – and her reputation, it seemed, was becoming somewhat outsized. People were impressed by her: sometimes they were intimidated. It all rather made her want to apologize.     Supporting Wuk Lamat’s candidacy as Dawnservant in the Turali Rite of Succession seemed, at first, as if after the chaos of the Final Days it would demand very little. Though Thancred and Urianger had pledged their support to the candidacy of Wuk Lamat’s brother Koana, with Alisaie, Alphinaud, and Krile of the Students of Baldesion by her side Ayah felt for a time as if she had little to worry about. Little, that was, save for handling the sometimes-dirty tricks of the other aspirants for the office – particularly Bakool Ja Ja, a hulking pair of “blessed” Mamool Ja siblings from the traditional heartland of Mamook, who seemed to have singled Wuk Lamat out to torment. Yet with the young Hrothgar princess, after an uncertain start, more than coming into her own even that, Ayah was starting to believe, would surely work itself out.     It was not Bakool Ja Ja, however, that Ayah truly needed to worry about. The true danger lay in Wuk Lamat’s oldest brother, Zoraal Ja. Known as the Resilient Son, he was the only biological child of the current Dawnservant Gulool Ja Ja, a wise and benevolent ruler whom the people of Tural greatly revered. Great things were expected of him, and he did not take his ultimate failure to complete the Rite of Succession – a loss born of his own overconfidence – at all well. He vanished following his defeat the Feat of the Brotherhood, before Wuk Lamat and Koana together ascended to the throne: the one loose end that left Ayah wondering if everything had truly wrapped up as neatly as it seemed.

the third law

     Zoraal Ja’s reappearance was heralded by the materialization of a great purple dome riven from within by lightning, and strange mechanical soldiers on the streets of Tuliyollal. The missing prince, strangely aged, struck down his father the Dawnservant before retreating back inside the dome. Ayah, Wuk Lamat and the Scions had no choice but to give chase – discovering, on the far side of the facility of Vanguard, a darkened plain where levinbolts racked the near-barren land, loomed over by a vast black tower. There they found Turali citizens who had been trapped there when the dome arose, thirty years previous by their reckoning, living alongside the people of a place called Alexandria.     Alexandria? It was an abomination. In all of her travels Ayah had scarce seen a place she found more repellant. There, it was commonplace for citizens to use the cleaned souls of the dead to extend their own lifespans, allowing them to shake off otherwise-mortal wounds. The living, too, would have all memories of the deceased erased, to prevent distress: all accomplished through the wearing of a device known as a regulator. Appalled, Ayah gravitated to a group calling itself Recollection, a resistance cell whose members shunned the practice of regulator-wearing.     Hoping to stop Zoraal Ja, the Scions petitioned his co-ruler, Sphene Alexandros. Ayah liked Sphene from the start – she was cheerful, approachable and deeply concerned for her people, though she seemed to be holding something back. In time, the little group would learn what that something was.     In truth, Sphene Alexandros died centuries ago. The woman they knew was an Endless: an immortal being sustained by Alexandrian technology. Charged with the directive to protect Alexandria, she was as much behind the attack on Tuliyollal as Zoraal Ja, hoping to use aether harvested from the Source to sustain her fellow Endless. Striking down Zoraal Ja, Ayah, alongside Krile, Wuk Lamat and G’raha Tia, chased Sphene to the Unlost World of the Endless: a safe and sterile theme-park approximation of reality, where the souls of the deceased were, as Ayah saw it, trapped. Her duty was plain. She would end Sphene’s prolonged reign, and with her would end the Endless.

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⸻ introduction

name   calliopetitle   azem, the travelerage   young adultgender   femalerace   ancientaffiliation    convocation of fourteen

• appearance
• personality
• abilities

⸻ appearance

⸻ at a glance

     By the standards of her people, Calliope is considered to be relatively petite. Since ascending to the seat of Azem she has been entitled to wear the black mask of the Traveler - which, combined with her height, leaves her immediately recognizable even when dressed head to toe in the long, concealing robes of her people. Her body language is loose, boyish and expressive, and she almost invariably talks with her hands.     Though she is comparatively youthful for a Convocation member, as an Amaurotine Calliope considers her true age to be largely irrelevant. She maintains the appearance of a young woman in her early twenties, with a slender build, startlingly bright blue eyes and a scattering of freckles. She has long black hair, most often worn pulled back in a loose bun or braid of never much more than adequate tidiness. Her smile is wide, bright and frequent; her enthusiasms many. She talks quickly and volubly, especially when talking about something she is interested in - and she is interested in just about everything. Curious and vivacious, she seldom stays still for long, and is restless, even fidgety when forced to sit or wait for extended periods. Calliope has a fast, spritely gait, and frequently has to be reminded to slow down when walking with friends.

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⸻ personality

     Calliope is a quick-witted, strong-willed and capricious woman of unorthodox views and uncommon power, whose friends and family suspect her of having been promoted to the seat of Azem simply because nobody knew what else to do about her. A tomboy since childhood, fond of rough-and-tumble, she was from an early age a curious and perceptive girl for whom no explanation was ever quite enough. Though her ability with creation magicks is second to none, she is too whimsical and unfocused to truly succeed at concept design: she simply lacks the patience for iteration and refinement that she would need to genuinely master the art. Her successful creations are therefore comparatively few, but bravura and unique.She is cheerful, lively and intrepid, prone to flights of fancy, and idealistic to a fault: a dreamer who believes in a better world, one she has taken it upon herself to build. A wanderer by nature, prior to her appointment to the Convocation Calliope was notorious for never staying in one place or position for long. It's in her nature forever to be dreaming of the next horizon, and never to be quite satisfied with the way that things are. She loves novelty, and is constantly on the lookout for new things to see and do, new places to visit, and above all else for new people to meet. She has no talent for solitude and finds it easy to make friends, though her forthright nature, bohemian opinions and sheer energy don't always go down so well with the proud and the proper.     A kind-hearted and empathetic soul, the only thing that Calliope can truly be said to hate is indolence - she finds deliberate cruelty almost easier to understand than indifference. As Azem, she is drawn to the unusual and uncanny, and is renowned for turning up in just the right place at exactly the right time: should trouble be at hand, she is quick to get involved, eager to lend her aid, and unafraid to get her hands dirty should the cause demand it. She considers Venat a mentor, Hythlodeus a kindred spirit, and Hades... well, she loves Hades. Why else would she hide souvenirs from her adventures in his apartments and offices?

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⸻ abilities

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⸻ a note

While she understands the connection that they share, Ayah does not feel that she is in any measure Calliope reincarnated.

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⸻ artwork

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⸻ screenshots

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