Naming Traditions
Other names
The Clan of the Wide Eyes
Culture
Major language groups and dialects
They speak a more fluttery version of Elder Fae. Not dissimilar to the SkullBrood Clan of Galus.
Birth & Baptismal Rites
After a child is born to the clan, the child is brought to the mountain peaks to the north. While their wings are still damp, not yet ready for flight, the Mother and Father need to take the Child's wings and unfold them in the light of the noon-day sun. Drying them in the Grace and Light of Warmth. They must do this as a Family, their efforts to open their life to the light of the sun. An act to solidify their connection to Mother and Father as well to their Goddess.
This Rite is done with tenderness and care, as the child's wings are extraordinarily fragile. To tear a wing during the ceremony is to curse the child throughout their entire life. A plague upon the clan to be purged. If the child's wings are damaged during the Baptism of light, the parents are exiled from the clan, and the child is raised by the Priestess of the Clan herself. In an effort to restore their fallen connection to their Goddess, the Priestess will induct them into the teachings of the Hierophant. Repairing their wings, though never truly being seen as a member of the Family. These children are collectively known as Embers, or disciples of the Flame.
They are the ones to assist the Mother and Father in the Maintenance of the Mists.
Common Myths and Legends
Azu the Ascendant Butterfly is the being they believe to have created them. She being the original Mistwalker in their Faith, that burned the earth and skies only her wings set a flame with the power of the sun and stars. They refer to her as Warmth, the highest honorific the Mistwalkers have. In the same vein as the goblins they do refer to their Hierophant as The Father, and their high Priestess as Mother.
Azu was the being to burn away the absent moons in the sky, the odd voids in the stars being held in particular regard to the Walkers. Seeing them as a history lost, a lament to the heavens as Azu spoke to them in days of old. Saying that corruption is to be cleansed from the world, aspects of their corruption was to be exterminated. Azu in her effort to protect her children, breathed fire in the Ilori Sea and created the Mists to protect them from the eyes of Darkness.
And her wings, the Glory by which we see. Beat the flames of the shattered world, and purged the Darkness of our Vale. Her breath is an inferno by which we inherit, a holy element we treasure. Do not abuse the fire in your breath, to do so would be to insult Warmth. Listen Child, I am proud of you, your fire is strong. Do not mistake my tone for anger, but caution. -Mother Aafje as she consoled her Ember for accidentally setting a pile of grain a flame.
Azu burned away the heartwood of the Great Tree to warm the cold earth below them, causing the Valley of Mists to become the geyser filled landscape to further her creation of the Mists. All in the hopes her children would be spared from the horrors of the broken world. The Darkness seeping in from all sides, her wings she made great suns to illuminate the world around them. Giving them eyes of glowing coals to forever see in the fading light of the world.
During the conflict with Huron, they learned of The Forgotten Family, finding the depictions of Syn with her wings obscured to the world. They took this to mean that this was Azu forgotten to the rest of the world. They are well aware that their Winged Goddess is not in their world any longer, calling the Modern depiction of Azu a heresy. That Azu is a usurper of their Goddess. They hold that Azu is a different Goddess altogether, taking a particular interest in Syn from the Trio.
Ancient Sermon
As skies shattered before us, the sun had burned itself away. Darkness, void and perverse. A cold wind blew across the barren fields that were the world. Arcing lights that slipped from the tattered curtains as the heavens fell away, shimmering souls lost to the mist.
We stood lost to a world we knew naught. A change, a refuge in which we sought. Incandescent wings burning on the mountains, the curves of her body to make the work around us. Eyes kind and glowing, we sought comfort. Though all that crumbled before our fingers, we called a home naught but ash. An ember to stoak a new flame, cold and empty.
What was when, when is now, now is past, and future is history. We were lost, they were lost, the four pillars by which we stood strong. The Mother broken, the Father shattered, the Scales of law we tipped not in our favor. A finger on the scales to lie to our unseeing minds, our flesh fell away as we were born anew. Stillborn in a world that was unable to carry, the heat of our bodies lost on the cold sands of time.
When we awoke to this home, it was burned and broken. The branches of the tree still swaying in the winds of the heavens. Reforming into the canopy of stars, we saw a figure. Dark and malevolent, though comfortable. A melancholic enigma that was a lie, a truth, and an absolute and theoretical. Her eyes burned the same as yours. A distant memory as she wrapped her wings around us, speaking honeyed words we wanted to hear.
Who was she? Who were the ones we lost? Who did our wings belong to? The Mother before us, a surrogate, a lie. Children without house and home, called to the beckoning welcome of her arms we wandered. A cold touch to our warm skin, a drowned body. A corpse ridden filth that walked and talked. Beautiful yet horrifying. Who was she? Who are you?
No answers, not truths revealed, not solace was given. A candle flame in our own hearts we wrought. For the Creature before us to claim herself god, was not our Mother. Though we accepted her, she grew to love us as enthralled we were. Her wings ablaze to mimic our own, her smile sweet and mellifluous. Malignant in her time, a Mother born of our own. We would grow to love a creature that refused to leave. For we call her Azu, the one who burned away the darkness.
Though what she had burned we knew naught. A silent prayer that we were not wrong, for no voice answered our pleas. A love that transcended death, a divinity born into our hearts. The darkness she burned away, a sister we held dear, though estranged. Someone we should have known, someone we have always known yet have never met. Syn, our Great Mother. Wings aflame in eternity.
-An ancient sermon found written on the walls of a Great Gyser. Directly after the Tears of the Tree Event, found by the Chief of the Clan of Wide Eye's as he was exploring.Ideals
Gender Ideals
Men and women of the Mistwalkers hold a few cultural holdovers from a much more ancient time, some time before the breaking of the world during Dawn of Truths. Men of the culture hold their wings further out, more rigid in posture. As if they were to take flight at any time should the need arise. They also tend to keep their hair in a loose flowing fashion, though both men and women of the people keep their hair short typically. This is because they wish to not have any interference with those same said wings. Men are expected to maintain both borders and home, being the frontline defense of their Clan. Men are also typically expected to learn to fight, hunt and forage from a young age, being the ones to sustain their family.
While there is no set expectation for women to learn to fight, or learn any of the same skills as men, they typically do. This was in response to a military skirmish with Huron centuries ago. While the men kept the invaders at bay while their Priestess and Hierophant worked to restore the Mists. Not much for sustenance was resupplied during this time, leading to women of the Clan being taught many of the same skills as the men to offset any future disruptions.
Women of the Clan hold their wings in a more relaxed state, dropping off to their sides, or draped over their waists. This is seen by the clan as a symbolic effort for the women to have an easier life than men, though symbolic in effort alone. The Clan being only a few hundred strong, everyone is expected in the clan to carry their weight. Women are not seen as something to be protected, though something to strive to be equal to.
They being the spiritual center of the people, women are given a certain preferential treatment in matters of heart and spirit. As their version of Azu demands them to be the aspects of virtue in the home. In more recent years, the women of the clan have sought to equalize all roles across a broad spectrum, both men and women seeking to learn each other's traditional skill sets.
Light and life by Thereasonwhy
The little things by Thereasonwhy
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I love the childhood wing ceremony!
How did I miss this? Wow, long overdue. Thank you! I wanted something that was unique and distinctly not human. I'm glad you liked what I imagined up here!