"Ser Okhuna seems upset." And, yes, of course he is, poor man the last of his kind, the last of the liars. A Qestir born with a mouth to speak and a heart with desire and drive to do so. Convinced he was born a traitor, he walks in quest of salvation, of penance. "Penance? Without penitence? Why, is that not a performance?" Another lie indeed, begging the question: Can he feel anything at all?
But of course he can, though it's not so simple as sorrow. It's not so simple as grief or hatred-(of those he feels plenty). It's a coiling rage in the pit of his stomach, ice cold, a tampering of emotions, dull eyes to mask how badly he wants to scream, to lash out. This is a broken way for a pacifist to be. This is not the heart of a healer. "Ser Okhuna, are you sure you were not a Dotharl?" Do not laugh as such. He would never have been those, those brightly-lit warriors clad in the moon. He would have never longed for a painful death, for what's more painful than drowning?
No, if one were to place this little lost bluebird in a clan at all, if there were no Qestir and no medicine men, I rather think he would be a Chaghan or Mok. "A Chaghan of peace?" Certainly not. He would ravage his soul for a taste of righteous blood, for a vengeance he knows will never, ever come in his current body. The Qestir healer, the mediator, cannot wish for a painful death on the reaper who harmed him. But he can certainly, certainly, imagine it.
A Mok, potentially, I'm sure he's been asked it before. "Are you a real Oestir, ser One Who Speaks?" He often feels so close in remembrance of death that the memory takes place of his body, walking in a shadow out of time. He often, often, feels lost in a crowded city, silent, devoid of words and color and life. He can hold his breath and imagine himself not here at all, why, what is more mock than one who imagines himself dead? What is a truer deception than the dead in place of life? Perhaps, the answer, in all its simplic|ty: Is a Qestir who speaks, a healer who brings death, a mediator who wishes, above all else, above all wishes, that he could simply have drowned on that day.
(Alt text on each stanza!) I wrote a little free verse poem about Okhuna, an ex-Qestir healer who has a job of performing Sendings (think FF10 Yuna!). He is a sad sad man.
[ #okhuna #qestir #ffxiv #ffxivwriting #poetry #poem #freeverse #xaela #xaelaaura ]
