Private Home & Hearth

[Ran Serys]

Mirial - Night - Mirialan Tattoo Ceremony

On the steps of the Uaya Temple of Fate, Ran sat. She waited and watched the bustling street in front of her. It felt surreal to be among her people for the first time since birth. She couldn't believe she had finally made it back to Mirial. From the moment she had stepped off of her PGEM/S-02 "Starpeddler", The Onyx Runner, she could barely contain herself. She was excited by all that she would find on the planet, from her first tattoo to the traditional cuisine. Then there was the idea of learning where she came from. What an idea.

She pulled the sketch of her mother's tattoo out from her battle jacket's breast pocket. She thought the tattoo could point her in the direction of her surviving family, if she had any. The Uaya Temple of Fate was known for the tattooing of families and for their scholars of the Mirialan Tattoo Lexicon. If anyone could point her in the right direction it was the scholars of the Uaya Temple.

"Ma'am. The ceremony is beginning. If you want to participate, you should come in now." A boy whose skin color matched Ran's almost exactly called out from the entrance of the temple. "I am coming in now. Thank you." She said as she stood up and dusted the butt of her pants. She followed the boy in and held the door for the Mirialan who entered behind her.

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

And so after all this time, her travels had finally led her here. For the first time, Amani stood atop the cold earth of Mirial's tundra with her own two feet. Every sight, sound, and smell vied for her attention, leaving the girl paralyzed by indecision. Only after hearing a voice from the temple ahead did she snap out of the moment of reverie, and remember the main reason she was here.

A tattoo ceremony. Of the utmost cultural importance to the people of Mirial. Even Amani was familiar with that. She brushed a hand across some of her own: a mesh pattern of diamonds and triangles, smattered across each cheek like freckles.

But today would be meant for something new. Amani hurried up the steps, stopping short of the door to tidy herself up. "< Thanks. >" she expressed her gratitude in the native language towards the figure holding the door open; A woman with yellow eyes and a full foot of height over Amani. That did not exactly make her less intimidated by the overwhelming nature of the whole experience, but at least extensions of courtesy were consistent in this part of the galaxy.

She stepped inside, observing the others that were preparing to take part in the same ceremony. On one hand, it meant more people watching, but also that there were plenty of others to mimic in case of any uncertainties she had regarding the process. And so Amani took her place among what few spots remained, and waited for the next step.

Ran Serys​

 

[Ran Serys]

"You are welcome." Ran replied in kind as she continued into the temple, and into a room full of her people. Mirial made her feel like less of an outcast. The planet made her feel like less of an experiment. The people made her feel like she belonged. She hadn't realized how strong her feelings of isolation were until that point, until she felt the opposite. It was a heartening experience.

Ran kept to the back as she observed the customs of the temple. She watched as the scholars invited the eldest of mirialans to be tattooed first. She saw how the stations were set for the tattoo, and then listened as the tattooer and tattooie discussed the test, task, or trial achieved and what tattoo would represent the feat best. She also observed that she was not the only one in that role. The mirialan she had held the door for was doing much the same.

As the tattoos were being done in the traditional miralan method, those who waited were allowed to walk the temple grounds, and talk amongst each other until it was their turn to be tattooed. Ran approached the familiar mirialan. "Hello," She said attempting to grab the younger woman's attention. "You were not raised on Mirial either, were you?" She asked as the woman had observed the crowd with a similar zeal.

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

It was almost strange to see so many Mirialans at once. Amani met relatively few in her life, and certainly not all in the same place. Made it easy to forget that there was an entire culture and history that bound them together. She was enraptured by a venerable man decorated in ink, marking achievements that spanned decades; Soon to add yet another labor to his litany of virtues.

"Hello... You were not raised on Mirial either, were you?"

Amani blinked, snapping out of her character study to find that same woman from before now standing alongside her. “Oh, no I'm not. Was my pronunciation that bad? I haven't spoken much Mirialan in a while," She chuckled lightly. “No, my parents moved us to Tython right after I was born."

Either, the woman had said. Then Amani wasn’t the only ‘outsider’ here. That alone was a reassuring sentiment. “What about you? Guess I just assumed everyone else was a native.”

Ran Serys​

 

[Ran Serys]

Ran wasn't much of a laugher, but she did manage a smile when the woman excused her pronunciation of the Mirialan language. Truth was that Ran's pronunciation needed work as well. Her knowledge was there but the accent was a dead giveaway that she was an offworlder. "No. Your pronunciation was fine. I believe it is better than mine." She replied.

Tython. There was a spark of recognition in Ran's eyes after hearing the name. One of the planet's that was significant to the history of the Jedi, if she remembered correctly. She wondered if the woman was a Jedi. She'd met a few since acquiring her freedom. She even thought there was a chance her fate was intertwined with the religious order of knights.

"I am not native. I am not really from anywhere. I was moved around frequently as a child." She smiled at the half truth. She didn't enjoy dishonesty but the truth was much heavier than she wished to share at the moment. Although, it would all be revealed in due time.

"Your tattoos are beautiful," Ran smiled. The expression became less foreign the more she used it. The action also made her happier. Happiness was a dearly welcome emotion, especially after the last twenty-nine years of her life. "Are you getting another today?" She asked her face clean, fresh, and unmarked as of yet.

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani was actually relieved to hear her pronunciation wasn’t embarrassing at least. Still, she’d happily take the excuse to speak Basic instead.

“Sure. I have to do a lot of moving around nowadays myself. Even as an adult I find it tough sometimes.” She didn’t want to make any assumptions about the woman’s experience, but offered her own as recognition of any similar struggles.

The compliment on her tattoos was a very effective form of flattery, immediately blushing her cheeks to a darker shade of green, “Thank you. And yeah, that’s the hope. It’s uh, been a while since I’ve had any done.”

Her eyes swept across the temple, noting the other Mirialans milling about, “Amani, by the way. I’m guessing you’re here for the same?” It did strike her as curious that a woman seemingly of Ran’s age was entirely free of tattoos, but she made no comment on the matter. Amani wasn't exactly one to go around spouting conjecture.

Ran Serys​

 

[Ran Serys]

"I am Ran, and I am." She replied in kind. "It will be my first." She said with a hint of excitement as she glanced around the room. The few mirialans who were unmarked by tattoos were either children or herself.

In her blindspot one of the scholars approached. He had a datapad at the ready. She could feel the man behind her and shifted her body to see him coming. He was middle-aged, and plump under his scholar's vestments. Long black hair ran down his head and shoulders and small diamond-shaped tattoos lined his round cheeks and hands. "Excuse me, Ladies. It seems the ceremony will be a busy one, and we won't have enough time today to tattoo all," He gave a regretful face. "But I couldn't help hearing this would be your first tattoo," He looked toward Ran. "I wouldn't want to deprive you of that so you'll be up soon as well as your friend." He smiled.

"Thank you," Ran returned the man's smile. "We appreciate that."

"Oh, of course. I'll just need the tasks achieved so we can consult our lexicon." He held the datapad up.

"Well I…" She paused looking for the right words. Words that wouldn't draw too much attention. "I have recently escaped a lifetime of slavery and I have begun a journey to discover my roots." The man blinked in disbelief as he looked at the tall and strong Ran. She looked more like a soldier than a slave but he wouldn't be arguing with her.

"Congratulations on your freedom. I wouldn't wish what you've gone through on my worst enemies. I will consult the lexicon. Just know that tattoos meant for the liberated are often simple and quick, as most have been traumatized and scarred by the marks of ownership." His expression turned solemn and humble upon hearing Ran's response. "I hope that's ok."

"It is." She replied as she put a hand on the man's shoulder. She could see his expression sour after hearing her story. She wanted to let him know she was okay. Ran was strong and resilient like few others.

"And you, Miss?" The scholar turned to Amani, as did Ran.

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

“That’s exciting! I remember my first like it was yesterday.” Amani prodded proudly at the centermost diamond on her right cheek. She was happy for Ran, feeding off the woman’s enthusiasm for the moment. So much so, that when the scholar came over to deliver the unfortunate news, her heart nearly sank to new depths from the sheer tragic irony. Thankfully, he was of the same opinion that Ran deserved the opportunity.

The rollercoaster of emotions wasn’t over just yet though, as she then revealed the intent behind her tattoo, and in all likelihood, the reason she had yet to have any until now. A good confirmation as to why Amani restrained from making many assumptions about people, overshadowed by the weight of Ran’s story.

“And you, Miss?”

Amani blinked. She hadn’t realized the attention had turned to her until a beat had passed. After a deep exhale she said simply, “...Redemption.”

Ran Serys​

 

[Ran Serys]

Redemption. A weighty word that made the air around them even heavier. "I see," The scholar nodded. He wouldn't poke and prod the women with any more questions. One was liberated and one was saved or in the process of saving. That was enough information. "I will consult the lexicon. The tattooers will be ready for you momentarily." He added solemnly before walking off.

Ran's eyes kept on Amani. She recognized a hard-edge on the woman. One that reflected her own in a way, and those of others she had recently met. Newly free to ask her own questions, Ran asked every single one she could. "I do not mean to pry or ask too much, Amani, but are you the redeemer or the redeemed?" Her yellow eyed-gaze held an intensity and gave sincerity to her interest.

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani pitied the poor scholar, having unwittingly taken the role as a drop off for emotional baggage. Thankfully he handled it with grace, turning away and once again leaving Ran and Amani together.

A weary smile flickered across her face, “The latter.” She ran a hand through her hair, lingering on her words before she expounded, “I ah, used to be a Jedi. Lost my way a while back, you could say.” Not a direct admission of her fall to darkness, but perhaps something that could be picked up on by someone who understood the dichotomy.

“I’ve only just recently made some semblance of peace with it. I guess that’s why I’m here. It’s uh… quite complicated.” An understatement, if anything.

“I’m very sorry to hear about… I guess it’s hard to know what to say about that. But for what it’s worth I’m glad you’re here with us now.”

Ran Serys​

 

[Ran Serys]

Ran nodded. She understood a little of redemption herself. Her current path was one on the road to redemption. In time, she would redeem herself with some help from her friends and allies. Her visit to Mirial was just a tiny selfish detour taken on the way. "Understood. My reasons for being here are also quite complicated. But Jedi or not, finding our way is important."

Ran's assumption was correct. The woman was a Jedi, or had been, according to her words. Ran couldn't quite understand the idea of "used to be". In her mind, you would always be what you were. One's experiences are a part of them. They cannot be escaped only lived with. But what did Ran know? Fewer things than most, but that wasn't her fault. It was an unfortunate circumstance of her enslavement.

"It is worth more than you know." Ran smiled and extended a hand onto Amani's shoulder. The young woman's compassion resonated with Ran. Everywhere she went, the former slave and experiement had met another force sensitive sympathetic to her situation. To Ran, Amani extended a similar kindness to that of Dagon and Valery, albeit in a much less stressful environment. Is she truly no longer a Jedi? Ran thought.

"You say you used to be a Jedi. I know a few. They taught me about the force and my connection to it. They seem to be a forgiving and generous group. If you've found your way, why not become one again?" Ran asked.

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

Ran's gesture was enough to lift Amani's spirits, and she smiled more genuinely now. Her thoughts then turned to her own time with the Jedi.

"They are, yes. And I'll always cherish the time I spent with the Order. But…" Amani shifted her jaw in thought, before offering a simple shrug, "...I guess I've outgrown it, you could say. I'm a different person than I was a few years ago. I don't think I could commit myself to that structure again and feel… fulfilled."

"A lot of what kept me grounded isn't there anymore. Friends, mentors, my beliefs even." There was sentimentality in her words, but not necessarily a longing. It was just another fact she had made peace with by now.

"I didn't realize you were sensitive to the Force." She turned to Ran, the matching energy only just registering for Amani as she focused on it. Her own connection was still rehabilitating.

Ran Serys​

 

[Ran Serys]

Ran paused for a long moment, considering Amani's words. The older woman had considered training to become a Jedi, but wasn't sure if it was the right move. Amani had lived that life once and hearing her thoughts on whether or not she would return provided Ran with some needed insight.

"You are a strong woman, Amani. I admire you for that," Ran said, instead of apologizing for the things that had gone from Amani's life. "You seem to know yourself in a way I only wish I could. Maybe in time that will come." She smiled.

"I did not realize it either," Ran spoke of her force sensitivity. "It was not until a few short months ago that I found out." She looked back into her mind, searching for the memory. A hectic Denon night, the night she had met Dagon Kaze . He was the one who had told her she was strong in the force. He was the first person to put his trust in her, and she put her trust in him, albeit not without some convincing on both sides.

"It is partly the reason I am here. I want to find my birth family, if not just to know them, to ask them about my force sensitivity." Ran pulled a datapad from inside her jacket. "To find out if it runs in the family, and to see if they can help me." She flashed the screen of the datapad to Amani. On it was an image. A tattoo. It was obviously of Mirialan origin, but less obviously one that denoted lineage, a bloodline, familial ties. "This was my mother's tattoo. I am hoping it will lead me to them. I am going to ask the scholars if they have met others with this tattoo." She was hopeful they'd be able to help her.

"I noticed you did not mention your family when you noted what was no longer with the Order. Are you alone too? Or do they endure?" Ran asked curiously.

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

"Mm. They… passed. Before I ever joined the Order. Illness." She accepted it, she learned to accommodate it, but it was the kind of scar that never truly fades.

Amani studied the design Ran presented, "I never knew if my family had a unique tattoo. If there was one, my parents didn't tell me about it." Or even had it themselves. In truth Amani hardly knew anything about the Serys family. As far as she had ever been told, it was just her and her parents. Now… just her.

"I hope they can give you what you're looking for. I know in many cases Force-sensitivity can be a genetic trait. My parents didn't exhibit any signs, themselves."

Ran Serys​

 

[Ran Serys]

"I am sorry for your loss," Ran replied. "And thanks. I hope they can too." She echoed before putting the datapad back into her jacket pocket. As she did her thoughts turned inward. She hadn't considered the idea of no surviving relatives, that was if she were able to find them. She knew her mother must be long gone from Mirial. Her one and only memory of her was in chains. Still she held onto the hope for any family, her father more than anyone. The thought came across her mind as she watched a freshly tattooed man step away from a station and toward his children. They marveled at their father's new markings. Ran smiled genuinely. She might be too old for that kind of familial relationship, but maybe with a little luck that could truly be determined.

The plump scholar returned and regarded the women. "This way ladies." He motioned toward two tattoo stations sitting side by side. Maybe Ran and Amani could continue their conversation whilst being tattooed. Ran nodded nervously at Amani. The older woman felt electric. Her excitement climbed higher with every step.

When she sat down the tattooist explained the markings he would make. Her tattoo was to be simple with two small trapezoidal markings under each eye. The markings didn't matter to her though. The tattooist could've shown her anything and she would've liked it. Ran was just happy to get closer to her people, and her idea of who she was meant to be.

"Before we begin, may I ask you and the scholars about a tattoo I have seen?" Ran interrupted.

The tattooer squinted at her and waved over a female scholar. "Of course. Can you explain it to us?"

"I can show you." Ran replied. Once again, she pulled out the datapad and flashed the image of her mother's tattoo.

"I've done a similar one before. Last one was a handful of years ago. You can tell by its form that it's a bloodline tattoo. This curve here indicates birth order, and this pattern here indicates origin." The tattooer explained as the scholar consulted the lexicon. "This tattoo is representative of the eldest sister of the… Let's see… Ah yes. Here it is. The Serys." The scholar added showing Ran a record of similar family tattoos.

"Thank you." Ran replied. The name didn't mean much to her, but that didn't matter. She was, after all, one step closer to finding her kin.

"Serys," She repeated.

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

Serys.

With a single name, Amani's entire demeanor shifted dramatically. Color drained from her face, a pit formed in her stomach, and her heart sped up until it seemed about to burst forth from her chest.

"W-...what did you say?" She asked, her voice shaky and out of breath.

"...Serys?" The scholar repeated.

An intense confluence of emotions flooded her mind, and Amani stumbled back up, nearly knocking over her chair and herself in the process, "That-- That shouldn't be possible, I-- They're all-" She swallowed, tears began to form in her eyes. There weren't any others. She was the last.

"My. Name. Is. Amani. Serys."

Ran Serys​

 

[Ran Serys]

Ran watched the tears well in Amani's eyes. She didn't know what to say. The scholar didn't either as the situation revealed itself to her slowly. Smart enough to read between the lines, the scholar put a hand on Amani's shoulder. "It's okay, Amani Serys." she said with an accent.

"It looks like you found who you're looking for." The tattoo artist nodded at Ran. "It seems I have." Ran arose from her chair and approached Amani slowly. "I am sorry for your loss, Amani." Ran said again. "But you are not alone anymore." Ran reached out a hand for Amani to take. She hoped her words would be a comfort to the younger woman.

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

"I don't get it…"

"I never-- I was an only child. My parents were--"

Had there really been others after all? Her mother and father had always been quiet on the subject of extended family. Aunts or uncles, perhaps even cousins by extension. Amani had eventually come to the conclusion that there simply were none, or those that had been were already dead. To learn all of this now was an upturn of her entire understanding.

Instead of taking Ran's hand, she embraced her, "I thought I was the last."

Ran Serys​

 

[Ran Serys]

As the younger Mirialan embraced her Ran's heart broke. She knew what it felt like to feel alone in the universe, but that time was brief; she had been blessed with fast allies and a heavy purpose. Loss wasn't something she had felt. From Amani's reaction, Ran suspected it was something her newfound relative had experienced more than most.

"Not anymore." Ran replied to Amani as she embraced her in kind. It was the first hug she had ever experienced. The first of many she hoped as a warm feeling settled into her heart and soul. She let the moment sit so Amani could settle and gather herself. Oh how they must have looked to the others.

"He said he has done similar markings in the past," The tattooer nodded. "There may be more out there yet." Ran said softly. "We can seek them out together, if you would like. Just know I am happy to spend this time here, now, with you." Ran separated herself from Amani. "What do you say?"

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Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

A few moments passed before Amani composed herself, stepping back she took a deep breath, "You think so?" In truth she was less confident any more of them still remained. But, as evidenced by what was happening right now, she had been wrong about that before.

"Yeah… yeah sure." Amani cleared her eyes and chuckled, glancing back at the inker, "Guess I have another tattoo I need to get, huh?" They still had a separate reason for being here, after all. She took her seat once again, gesturing to Ran to do the same.

Ran Serys​