Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Spring, Day 13

Hello, my name is Gomeisa and I’m a human that emerged from the supposed void 3 days ago. It was suggested to me that I start documenting my thoughts and experiences, both to help me ground myself in this new world, and to make sure I don’t lose any re-emerging memories that might pop up as I ingrain myself into my new life.

I just kind of dropped out of that pink non-Euclidean space into an ancient temple and immediately met two new people; Jina and her Galdur friend Hekla.

Turns out humanity has been extinct long enough for a new people to awaken, known as Majiri, and the world I’ve unceremoniously reborn (?) into is called Palia, and more specifically a town called Kilima. It was odd to look towards a voice and find someone so… pink? Or was she purple? She had been startled by my shepherd’s crook clattering to the ground before I had fully materialised, and safe to say she got a front seat view to my revival. She’s quite sweet for someone having just seen an extinct species materialise out of thin air, and she seems quite excited to learn about whatever caused me to emerge, and if her face and tone weren’t enough to communicate her excitement, her tail’s incessant wagging would have been enough. Unfortunately I couldn’t help much on that side of things, and I don’t think I can add anything to the pool of knowledge she’s building even now after trying to unravel my memories.

Hekla is nice but obviously a bit robotic. I didn’t get much of an impression of her beyond that, since Jina was eager to hand me a map and a compass and sent me on my way. Before I left I looked ‘round the room I popped into and and my eyes felt like they couldn’t leave the giant phoenix statue inlaid into the wall.

As I walked through the hallways leading out from the temple, my eyes were caught by the view outside a set of broken wooden planks; sprawling meadows and a small town in the distance. I felt the fresh air blow through the impromptu window and it felt, at that moment, that everything would be okay.

That feeling was further amplified after peeling myself from the view and encountering a tall and very broad Majiri man. He was dressed practically and despite his stature and the intimidating scar across his eye, he looked on at me with a warm, welcoming gaze. He introduced himself as Ashura, owner of the Ormuu’s Horn Inn down in the heart of Kilima village. He guided me down and beyond the village to a pathway between the hills, and took me to what was going to become my new home.

It was rough I’ll admit, full of trees and rocks and mushrooms and another Majiri man slaving away at one of the rocks with his trusty pickaxe. He was smaller than Ashura, with more hair to boot, and dressed just as practically as the man beside me, though he was clearly not an innkeeper. He introduced himself as Hodari Pavel, and he and Ashura lended me a pickaxe and an axe respectively. They gave me my first task; clear some of the debris so I could set up a makeshift tent. The motions felt familiar, though my tools were quite weak, and in no time, I had cleared up enough space for the time.

Eventually, I had set up my meagre little tent with a bed and a wardrobe, and had set up a small campfire outside it to start cooking some of the morels I had gathered off my plot of land while clearing the debris. Eventually I was left alone to settle and gather my thoughts before heading down to the village to introduce myself to my neighbours. Time feels like it passes faster than it should; I’ve already spent my first day clearing out the rest of the debris my tools can handle.

This diary idea was suggested by Jina, mainly because the human perspective had been dead for centuries, and it is really a help for me. The only humans around are people like me; people who just popped out of the void and none of them are familiar to me. I long for my old home. I want to take care of a herd again. I want to open the door to my mother’s house to find her resting or working or waiting for me to show up so we can make dinner together. That might be why I haven’t gone down to Kilima just yet. Once I do, I can no longer pretend that I’ve just moved somewhere new or that the three Majiri I’ve met so far were just a figment of my tired, overworked mind after a day on the fields. Going down and purposely introducing myself feels more permanent. It will solidify the fact that this is not a dream. That humanity is dead. Or was. Until we came back, or were brought back.

In the silence of my small tent, I’ve been checking myself over; revival implies a death after all. I have no memories of the parts of my life that came right before the void, but I’m starting to come up with some theories about the end of my life as a citizen of Valeria. My chest and throat glow faintly now, as if something is filling them in a way I cannot feel or understand, and some of the veins around my heart glow a bit more visibly. A scarf and some good clothes should be enough to keep from drawing concern, or maybe even a new shawl. It looks almost like Flow, or at least my hazy memories of what it was back then. Another question that springs to mind is that of my age. I’m technically 26 years old, but here I am only 3 days old. All my experience feels useless, because here, the culture I’ve grown with means nothing. I was meant to be history, another nameless face lost to mankind’s downfall. Where does that leave me now? I am a living, breathing and thinking fragment of a bygone era, something students are now writing theses about. I’m not a child, but I feel that way now that the world is so different.

I’ve been given a new chance at life, which is both utterly terrifying, and immensely exhilarating. When I look back at the memories of my old life, it was humble and tiring. Days of thankless work only to return to a barebones home, food scarce and bland not for lack of trying, but for the inaccessibility of better resources and produce. My lungs are stained by the memory of a polluted sky. And in the here and now, even in my small, even more bare tent, there is a sense of freedom I was never granted before. Clean air and the ability to provide for myself in the same way the more settled folk do. I have the chance to prove myself and earn a place in this new world, one that does not care that I bear the heart, soul and blood of a simple shepherd girl. And that overrides any fear I have about the future, because it feels brighter than it ever had the chance of being last time I lived.

Chapter Text

Spring, Day 14

I finally went down to Kilima today, and what a colourful cast of neighbours I’ve been granted. As I walked down the path on the way to the town centre, I encountered Chayne, a bespectacled and older Majiri, bearded and adorned in long blue robes. He spoke to me of the great dragon Maji and that if I need a place to contemplate and meditate, the Dragon Shrine would welcome me with open arms. He seems to be trustworthy enough that I might take up his offer when days get tougher.

When I got to the square, I was drawn towards the library. Probably because it was the first building in my path, and because Hekla stood outside it. When I stepped in, the smell of books and a sort of spice greeted me. I remember looking around and seeing the shelves of books, spotting Jina browsing through them, and before I could walk over, a Majiri woman called me over to the front desk. She was accompanied by another woman, and while they looked similar enough to be siblings, they held themselves very differently. The one behind the desk, who introduced herself as Caleri stood straight and proud, shoulders squared and her hands held together at the waist. She wore a sensible brown overcoat, with a red ribbon tie at the collar of her shirt. Her hair was tied back in a bun, and her amber eyes sat behind a set of silver glasses.

Her sister, (as I rightly assumed), Elousia is the complete opposite. She held herself loosely, one arm at her waist while the other gestured as she spoke. Her style of clothing was similar to her sister’s; overcoat over the shirt with a tie at the collar, but Elousia’s coat was purple and her tie was a green insect brooch. Her pants had so many patches I wondered if they were the same pants anymore, and across her forehead she had a blue bandana, highlighting the emerald eyes she had behind her thick-rimmed glasses.

They welcomed me to Kilima, though not without a warning against messing around in the library, and so I went over to Jina. She seemed frazzled as always, and she was surprised I had come to talk to her again. I think she was assuming I would only come to her when necessary and not just for a chat. The talk was uneventful and hushed, in case Caleri thought we were too loud, and I mainly went over what I did yesterday. She was glad I took her suggestion about this diary, and so am I. On the way out I shared a quick exchange with Hekla about Jina’s lack of care for her food, which is something I’ll have to keep in mind for later.

As I walked away from the library, I was spooked by another Majiri lady, this time with long blonde hair and a green skirt. She hadn’t intended to scare me of course, she was just excitable and had seen me on her walk to the furniture store; her store. Her name’s Tish, and she shook my hand eagerly while gesturing at my person. She had mentioned something about making my own furniture and to meet her sometime at Jel’s place, whoever he was, and she scurried off in a whirl of skirts and joy.

After that frankly disorientating affair, I walked down to the shop beside Tish’s; which belonged to an oddly furry gentleman. He’s a cat! One with four ears, an odd monocle and a very human posture, but very much a cat nonetheless. He must have noticed my shock, because he introduced himself as Zeki; a Grimalkin (an apparently alien species amongst cool-toned elf-like people) and the owner of the General Store we were standing in, and that should I ever be missing an ingredient, my money would be best spent here. I asked him who Jel was, since Tish had told me to meet her at his place, and he pointed me down towards the last shop in this line of buildings. He also pointed out the Ormuu’s Horn Inn, which I remembered as the place Ashura had told me about, and finally, he pointed out the blacksmith’s forge beside the inn, and the City Hall across from us.

I thanked him and left for the city hall, deciding to leave Jel’s for last in case he was just as energetic as his friend. It was a larger building than the rest, and walking in had me encounter a well furnished reception area, with an intimidating young woman behind the counter. She introduced herself as Kenyatta, and she asked me if I had anything exciting to tell her. I told her about the fact I was technically born yesterday, a fact she found fun but not too exciting, what with all the new humans everywhere. She warned me to stay clear of her mum, and I took her word for it since I knew I would be meeting a few more people before my day was up, though I probably wouldn’t be able to meet everyone today.

My next stop was the blacksmith’s, and when I got there, I found a tall, broad Majiri woman hammering away at something on the anvil. She’s quite boisterous, and very friendly. Her name is Sifuu, and she helped me figure out how to make my own tools. Very useful, since the tools Ashura and Hodari gave me were not the best. She was dressed very practically, and the skin she left visible was marred by scarred tissue. Even with the short introductions, I could pick up the fact that she had seen her fair share of confrontations. I hope I can ask about some of them eventually. She seems like she has some great stories.

My second to last stop was the Inn, where I saw Ashura again. The Inn was as comforting as the man seemed to be; all sturdy wood and warm decor. I went up to his desk and he asked me how I was getting along. I’m glad he believes in me. I think I really enjoy being around the older man, almost like a father. It feels right to look to him as a father, especially since I have no memories of my own. I’ll have to sit and unpack them later, I’m too tired right now.

When I looked towards the bar of the Inn, nobody was there behind the counter. So I finally headed down to Jel’s shop. It’s a quaint little place, and right near the door I saw mannequins in clothes that seemed far beyond my budget. Further in, I saw Tish talking to a bespeckled, black haired man. I guessed that he was Jel, if his fashion was any indication, and I was correct. What I wasn’t expecting was another man, his face and stature was shared by Tish, but he wore worn down chef’s clothes, and an apron along his waist. His hair was brown and tied into odd bunches, and he wore a ladle in the waist of the apron. He must’ve been the chef, I thought. Turns out his name was Reth, and he was just as confident as his sister Tish, even if that confidence felt more suave and charming than her bubbly excitement.

We sat and chatted for a little bit, before I left them to their creative endeavours. Jel insisted that tomorrow morning, I was to come back down to his shop, so he and his muse could measure me and create some clothes for me to start off with. I hadn’t expected such generosity from a man who looks so… pompous? He looks like the snotty, upper-class type I fuzzily remember having to deal with in the memories of my last (?) life, but clearly he was different. I wonder who this muse of his is, but I suppose I’ll find out tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Spring, Day 15

I met Jel’s muse today. She’s a human woman. That shocked me more than anything I’ve seen in my three days in this new world, even if I had heard mention of humans like me showing up in Kilima like I did.

She’s only an inch shorter than me, yet her energy made me feel much smaller. She bustled around the tailor’s shop, dressed in a lovely, dark lace dress and some short heels, and her wavy hair draped over her shoulders and down her back. Her neck and ears were decorated with delicate blue gems, and her hair held a red rose above her ear. What intrigued me most was the critter following her like a shadow. It looked vaguely familiar, what with its bunny-like proportions and ears, but instead of a Y-shaped nose and a busy mouth full of buck teeth, there was a beak?

I had drawn both of their attention by walking into the small shop, and the woman turned to me with a soft smile. She introduced herself as Lucille, though she told me I could call her Lucy. She ushered me over and had me stand in front of a mirror on a small platform, elegantly walking off to find a notebook and a measuring tape. When she returned, she stood before me and told me to relax my shoulders. I hadn’t even noticed how tense I had been; I suppose meeting Majiri was different from meeting a human, especially after the whole supposed-apocalypse I was informed about.

She asked me how I was finding Kilima so far, and told me that she had only been here for a little over a month. I must’ve looked like quite the sight after that little bit of news, since she giggled and asked what had me so shocked. I just hadn’t expected someone so, new I suppose, to have integrated so quickly. If she painted herself pink and donned some pointed ears, I would’ve easily believed her to be a flesh and blood Majiri. I hope to take to this new life as easily as she has, and I shared that wish candidly as she measured the size of my waist.

She looked at me so sweetly then, her downturned eyes wrinkled at the corners and her lips upturned into a gentle arc. She told me to come to her whenever I needed it, and I swore then and there to join her in the quaint store whenever I could. Her laughter was soft and sounded like comfort, and her hands had treated me so lovingly. There I was, a lowly shepherd girl, in old clothes from a bygone era, standing in front of a woman who had clearly come from higher standing than me. And yet, I felt no pity from her. No disgust or contempt, only empathy and a soothing desire to help. I suppose this was the same feeling I had experienced when Jel had offered his aid so willingly yesterday. When I compared the humble woman in front of me to my memories, I couldn’t believe that she could have ever been one of them. The way she treated me gave me hope, the hope of indistinguishability; that hope I had felt when realising that I had the chance to be whatever I made of myself. That nothing could truly separate me from those more fortunate than me.

I was distracted from my overwhelming thoughts by the click-clacking of Lucy’s heels coming down the stairs. I hadn’t even noticed her leaving, but she came to me bearing a small package; undergarments and a basic set of a tunic and some pants, to keep me clothed until Jel and her could make me something new. It was simple and light, but in that moment, it felt as if she had placed the world into my palms, promising to bring me the stars too in time. I didn’t mean to tear up, but she noticed. Of course she would. Her and those soft brown eyes that felt like they could stare through my skin, muscle and bone, and straight to my soul. She held me then, and I shamefully confessed that gifts like this were hard to come by last I lived.

I felt no pity from her then either, only a lovingly quiet embrace, and the curious gaze of her wolpunny, Mamo. I felt the back of her dress beneath my trembling hands, and the soft skin of her unmarred shoulder into which she let me bury my face. She was warm and steady, holding me as if I were a child. And I am ashamed to say that that may have been the first time anyone has held me in a long time.

After I calmed down from that frankly embarrassing show of vulnerability, she set me off to meet some new people, and I left with a promise to return and spend a day with my new friend. I left to visit the farm down across the small river, and did so with a bounce in my step and a light feeling in my chest. On the way to the farm, I encountered a young boy, Majiri of course, wearing a hat over his blonde trusses and a massive backpack on his back. His name is Auni, the mail boy of Kilima and resident Bug Scout. He’s a peppy little thing, with limbs too long for his body and a heart too big for this little village. I promised to join him for some bug-catching practice, and we went our separate ways for now.

Walking down to the Daiya farm, I was greeted by a humble plot of land, with great apple trees shadowing a modest house and a great barn along the other side. I saw a homely woman at the side of the barn’s paddocks, and I walked up to her looking to introduce myself. Turns out I didn’t need to, as Delaila had caught wind of me and my appearance through the Inn and its residents. Mainly Sifuu and Ashura. She was dressed practically, her dress all earthy browns and greens, and her apron laid dutifully across her skirt. She wore an orange bandana that covered her blonde hair, and she had curious blue eyes. Her clothes had some sewn on patches to repair some unseen damage, and her shoes were sturdy and unremarkable. All these details clued me in on who she was; Auni’s mother. They shared the same hair and eyes and the same well-worn and loved clothes.

She told me to go talk to her husband Badruu, so that I could get started with my own farm. That excited me plenty, so I waved my goodbyes and headed to the other side of the Daiya family home. There was Badruu, who stood a bit taller than me and his wife but was much thinner, like a beanstalk. Must be where Auni got his proportions from. His beard was greying and he sported a wide, joyous grin on his face as he watched me approach. His giant sunhat bounced along with his grand gestures, and the ocarina hanging from his neck swung along too. He’s a very big fan of punny humour, which feels right for a father and a farmer. He gave me some carrot seeds and some soil to start my little farm, and he gave me a busted old hoe and watering can. Thankfully, Sifuu already promised to teach me how to repair and upgrade my tools, and I’ve already upgraded my axe and pickaxe.

Before I went home, I met their eldest son, Nai’o. He’s taller than me by quite a bit, with a head of slicked back blonde hair, and mismatched eyes. He wears a scarf, similar to his mum’s headscarf, and his clothes are just as well-worn and practical, sporting a hat hanging from his neck and sturdy boots and gloves. He’s a sweet guy, if a bit dense at times. He seems very happy in his Path as a farmer, and he explained what Paths are to Majiri. They’re the choice every Majiri makes when they become of age, and they follow the choice all their lives. So for example, Nai’o, Delaila and Badruu all chose the Path of a farmer, and Auni is still a bit too young to choose. Jel had chosen the Path of a tailor, Tish chose that of a carpenter, so on and so forth. I asked about Reth, since he seemed to be a chef when his sister’s a carpenter, and Nai’o got this look on his face. Apparently, families often stick to the same or similar Paths, and Reth had abandoned his by becoming a chef. Clearly abandoning your Path is very frowned upon.

I decided to head back home soon after, eager to get a farm going. The patch of soil is small, and the seeds won’t produce too many carrots, but I know I can sell them off to Zeki in order to buy more seeds and soil eventually. I overheard Delaila mention how she had no chapaa steaks for the dinner she had planned today, and I’ve seen plenty of chapaas along the way. Not to mention, I received a letter in the mail from everyone I have not met yet, including a Hassian, who has invited me to the fields near the windmill in order to give me a bow and some arrows. I assume he’ll also help me figure out how to aim faster, since my memories of hunting often end in missing my shot or being unable to switch my arrow out in time. Hopefully, new beginnings also means a better shot at learning these skills.