Not many are ever prepared for the terrain of Gyr Abania, rocky passes, hostile fauna, and ever present oppressive heat. 'Tis true it is not a land for the feint of heart, lucky is it then that her people are a hardy bunch. Proud, strong, and Ala Mhigan are all words that go hand in hand after all. Though often one associates the Highlanders with Gyr Abania, which of course is not entirely wrong, but not wholly correct either. For in this assumption you do not include the fierce hunters who stalk the craggy rocks and heated sands, my people the Seekers of the Sun.

I have found in my travels that outsiders are not aware that Gyr Abania holds quite the large Miqo'te population, several of our tribes called those crags home, my tribe included. Our name was denominated from 'W' that of the wolf, hence most of the tribes larger tails and ears, to the locals we were known as Wolves of the Sand. Based within the Peaks not to far from Rhalgr's Reach was where our Village was located and The Last Forest was our hunting ground. There was big game to be had in the region, which made our hunters and warriors the best. Even to the standards of the Highlanders we were known to not be trifled with, for few had the might or skill to contend with Bloodgliders and the Qiqirn.

It was here that I was born to my mother W'lyna and spent my formative years. I never got to the age where I could hunt when I was with the tribe, so I never fully learned our hunting traditions. Instead I have fond memories of my mother reading to me from her journal. She was our tribe's healer so it was quite often that my head was filled with the variety of herbs that could be found about the foothills and the many philters they could be brewed into. My love of books came from her, and perhaps even my knack for magic. We'd never have known if she had the talent for it, the practice wasn't exactly common place amongst the tribes after all. Nor the rest of Gyr Abania if I am honest, brawn and might is much more respected here over magics.

W'Nezha Nunh, Wolves of the Sand Patriarch

There is a natural order to things in the world, hunter tracks it's prey and eats for the night, the prey feasts upon the earth and when it dies thus is provided substance back for those to follow. Everything is a cycle, it's one of the hunting philosophy's the tribe taught. Even the sophisticated world of man typically runs off such principles, we are all in the end creatures of the cycle after all. However something wholly unique to Man, an invention all their own not seen anywhere else is war. Within our own minds have we justified it, sons and daughters murdering one another at the behest of someone else. War is one thing I will never understand.

I do not remember much of the Civil war that was incited to overthrow the Mad King, it did not affect the tribe very much. I do recall many of the hunters and warriors answering the call, as did many of the other tribes. Later when I was older did I learn how the civil war was all orchestrated by the Garleans so they could more easily invade our Country. But as a child it utterly befuddled me, I did not even understand the concept of men from another land coming to take our home from us.. What a horrible concept it was to face, forever will I hate war for what it stole from me, from us.

I can still remember the call of the Garlean airships, their war horns echoed and rolled off the mountainsides amplifying their calls to that of a deadly beast. They rained fire upon what resistance the Ala Mhigan's could muster, brightening a night sky alight with flame, like the world itself was on fire. I don't believe I need to explain what that can do to the mind of a child, but what I will say is the sight, the sounds, even the smells will haunt the occasional dream, never allowing me to escape that night.

I do not recall when I last saw my mother, one moment she and the other remaining hunters were with me and the other children, the next they handed us off to a group of Ala Mhigan's trying to flee across the border. It took me many years to learn the truth of what happened, to why my mother left me to go fight. But for a long time I resented her for it. In truth we were being pursued by a contingent of Garlean soldiers, the refugee's surely would not have made it if some didn't stay behind to distract the pursuers. I to this day do not know what happened to my mother, but it is safe to assume she gave her life so I could escape. I just wish I knew the truth of this sooner.

There I was was, just eight years old and without a family, even my father was lost in the chaos of that day. The group of refugee's I was with eventually did manage to cross the border, where we were met by Gridanian military. What remained is abit of a blurr for me, a child does not cope too well with such trauma so I can only speak to what I've been told happened. Eventually we survivors were given land to call our own in Thanalan which was lovingly dubbed Little Ala Mhigo, and it was here that I made a new kind of family.

W'lyna Zarh, fighting invading Garlean forces

Thanalan is not so different from Gyr Abania in many ways, the climate and topography for instance. To one who has visited neither they could easily mistake Thanalan with Gyr Abania or vice versa, from an outside view there is little difference. But to those who have lived in either the differences are quite stark and obvious, the thing that took my the longest to acclimate to was the air. Thanalan's air is so arid and dry, at times it hurt to breath or made me wish to drink enough water to drown in. But of course I was hardly alone in the longing to return home in Little Ala Mhigo, each and every soul there had a festering wound upon their hearts, ever wanting to see their homeland again. This burning desire would go unfulfilled for twenty long years and as a child I couldn't stand it.

Lonely is a word used quite often, its very common for someone to experience a sense of loneliness especially those used to life in a city I've come to find. But at the bottom of common loneliness lies another pit, something I cannot describe. This pit drains your soul and leaves naught but a husk behind, and I found myself lost to this pit during the four years I lived in Little Ala Mhigo as a child. Though I was surrounded by others who went through the same trauma's as myself, I still felt alone. You see many of the Sun Seeker tribes that called Gyr Abania home never fled, they stayed to fight for their home. Only afew other tribes had the time or foresight to send their children away, granted my tribe was amongst this number as I found out later. I was the only child to escape from the Desert Wolves, my mother guaranteeing that I made it out in her last moments I assume.

Though it did not seem so at the time, eventually a saving grace did come my way that delivered me from that awful pit. As it was told to me later there was ever a buzz about Ul'dah concerning the Ala Mhigan refugee's and what to do with us, partially spurred on by the actions of a famed Gladiator who began to dominate their fighting pits. It was these murmuring ons that made a Lalafell couple quite curious about the prospects of adopting an Ala Mhigan child as a way to help the cause so to speak. Though as much as they tried it seemed they were not capable of producing a child of their own and so this seemed to be the next best thing I assume. That is where they found me and I think it best to use my mothers words for this: "And there I saw you, hair white as snow tail as bushy as a bush, looking lost and afraid. The moment my I laid eyes upon you my heart swelled and I knew I could not allow you to stay there a moment longer!" There names were Ulya and Sisitu Guya, from that day forward they became my parents.

Young W'stella Nezha, taken at Little Ala Mhigo

Teenage W'stella Nezha, denied entry into the Thaumaturge guild

One might assume my life became much better at that point, and truthfully it did. But when my parents adopted me I was an edgy 12 year whole who had a bone to pick with the world, I had so much anger inside that some days I felt that I would explode. But by the divines were they patient with me, nowadays I regard them as practical saints. They were merchants by trade, fairly well off ones at that, but I wasn't spoiled either. I earned everything I got from them, whether it was through study, helping with the business, or chore work it seemed they knew how to properly raise a child. I needed that sort of discipline back then. Later I learned my parents were practically manic about raising their own child and had gone through numerous tomes on the subject of child rearing in order to prepare.

Though my grumpy teenage self back then would've never admitted it, I was happy, I think I learned how to be again from my parents amongst other things of course. Though we came from different cultures we still could come to understand and love one another, this was a valuable lesson that I still hold dear to this day. I was finally rescued from that pit of loneliness but that does not mean things were easy from here on, because next I needed to decide what I wanted to do with myself. And this is when I discovered my talent for magic.

The next and arguably most important chapter in my life was my pursuits of the magical arts. You see I never had too much interest in magic, growing up in the tribes it wasn't exactly common place amongst our people and those who did possess a talent for manipulating aether often times became monks. So it was not until I was adopted that I learned I did indeed have magical talents. You see often it is the case that manipulating aether comes as easy to Lalafells as is breathing for others. So it didn't take long for my parents to notice I held similar talents but did not realize it, and greatly encouraged me to pursue them! This happened around a time when they were trying to train me to be a merchant, but quickly learned that an angry teenager is not someone you want to be speaking to your potential buyers. So thus did begin my short lived path to becoming a Black Mage.

I will not bore you with the remaining details of these years, for other than the magical tutoring I had a fairly normal life, finally I was normal. Like everyone I struck out on my own as I became an adult, owning a quaint little apartment within the Goblet and perhaps I loved once or twice. But despite all of that in the back of my mind there was that rogue feeling of something missing, some sort of longing of unfinished business that I had. It was drawing me to a place I swore never to return to, like an unseen affliction upon my psyche it gnawed it's way through. It was slow at first and for years I could keep it at bay, but eventually i had to fill the void the gnawing left behind. Through drinking, sex, or other dubious methods I coped, but my life and studies suffered for it. Of course I was all to certain what this affliction was, for it affected every single other Ala Mhigan, that damned proud longing to see our home free once more.

Of course for neigh on twenty long years have we all had to deal with this feeling of loss and longing, and each had their own way of doing so. But as I assume you already know, eventually all that gnawing passion would have it's call to purpose. Some whose passion would be used and abused by that damned liar The Griffin, but for the rest of us who had sense it would come from his aftermath, when the alliance took Baelsar's Wall. I can still remember where I was when I got the news of it's fall, in the Ul'dah Sapphire Markets a crier announced it and everything went quiet. At that exact moment my life was changed forever yet again.

I am sure there was no shortage of volunteers signing up to be sent back into Gyr Abania to fight for their homeland, but we'd all be met with a stark reminder of the harsh reality. All of us who made it out and survived the invasion have spent the past 20 years preparing, yearning, needing to go back and retake our home, while those who stayed or were left behind surviving under Garlean rule for the past 20 years well, understandingly their spirits were broken. The alliance alone was unsure if they had the strength to even retake Ala Mhigo from the Empire, but if the local populace didn't help well, it seemed they didn't want to risk it. Luckily we all know how history turned and the alliances infiltrators were able to make a foothold within the homeland and eventually rally the people to side. Finally we had our chance to return home and fight for it, and then perhaps at long last our longing desires would be fulfilled.

But as fantastical as it all sounds, I couldn't so easily uproot my life without consequence. My parents wouldn't give me their blessing to go fight, but they also knew I'd do it anyway. In a way I had their reluctant support but I do regret how much I worried them and probably still worry to this day, but my mentor was another story entirely. When we first began our training they made me take an oath to never use magic to harm another, they would teach me as a means to pass on their magical learning to the next generation as in their old age they'd never taken an apprentice. They wished to pass on their knowledge but not have it be used to do harm, which is something I can respect now but.. With my emblazened passion then well, I was sure to break that promise to them. With the relationship with my mentor shattered and disowned, and with a pair of worried parents I struck out to join the joint effort to retake Ala Mhigo

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Near current W'stella Nezha, battle pose

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Near current W'stella Nezha, post discovery of mothers journal

The weeks of fighting throughout Gyr Abania is naturally something I do not look back on fondly. You initially go into battle for the first time filled with pride and determination, but then the horror sets in as you face your enemy. You see it is so easy to hate a faceless force who has shown nothing but ruthless cruelty towards you, but on the battlefield that force has a face, and it's not some sneering evil doer who must be stopped you see. Instead it's a solider some just as afraid as you, others your kinsmen who now fight against you in your own homeland. That is the true horror and evil of the Garlean empire, through fear and cruelty do they pit brother against brother and rarely do the ones behind it all take to the field. But still I brought my magic to bare against these witless soldiers whom I held no ire towards anymore, except perhaps those aforementioned turncoats, I still hate those Ala Mhigan brothers and sisters fighting their own in the name of these invaders. Some practically children, not even old enough to remember what their own homeland used to be and others broken elders who just want the fighting to cease, but my magic cared not. Fire burns indiscriminately no matter the foe and on that day I learned the truth of why my mentor never wished for their magic to be used against another in battle.

We never did expect how we'd feel seeing our homeland again, I believe everyone felt something abit different. Some weeped and cried just happy to be stepping upon their home soil again, others saddened to see how much had changed since they last layed eyes upon their homes. I believe I was a mixture of the two and it is hard to put into words how I truly felt. I was almost gladdened by the obvious Garlean structures that tainted the skyline, they were obvious physical things that I could hate, something I could throw my emotions at and it be justified. The much harder thing to deal with is what stayed the same, untouched except by time. It brought into reality that everything went on without us, there was never going to be same grand return to home, no pretending like it was all a dream, the stark reality was that the homeland we once knew did not exist anymore and it'd never be the same.

This realization became all to real when I made the mistake to return to my tribeland during a lull in the fighting, something I now regret doing greatly. Not much of it still stood, the local Qiqirn tribe had taken residence there, but some of the more permanent structures still stood, my old home was amongst their number. That is where I found it, that damned old journal of my birth mothers, tucked away where the beastmen didn't find. It was much more dusted and aged than I remembered, it had been 20 years since I last lay eyes upon it after all. But it's contents were all the same, and so I sat in the same spot mother used to read to me all those years ago and I flipped through it again. It still holds a place in my private collection to this day.

We no get to what I have been doing lately after finally getting to see my home again, and what the aftermath of it all caused me. Let us begin with the injury I sustained during the final battle. Many medics and doctors were stumped by what happened to my eye all they could tell was it was magically induced. It now was a brilliant white with a slight glow to it, I could still see out of it but my vision was abit different. Everyone had something of an outline to them with a unique color, always shifting and changing in just slight almost unoticable ways, but somehow I could notice them. It would be sometime that I'd learn what had happened to me, but that revalation would come when I met one of the Scions, a Lalafell named Krile Baldesion. They seemed to know exactly what was afflicting me.

As they explained it I had a power awoken within me, a power known as the Echo. A magical phenomenon that awakes in very few, I will not bore you entirely with the details, if you want you can read my research papers if I ever publish them! But back on track, apparently the ability that awoke in me is somewhat similar to hers, what I was seeing was a persons soul or at least it's outline. She'd recommend me to others with the same power who might be able to teach me to hone it before departing, advice I'd never take. I do not know if it was out of stubbornness or fatigue from all the fighting but, I just wanted everything to be over with so I could move on.

Moving on however was not in my future, instead I would end up staying in Ala Mhigo for a time helping where I could. Seems I'd get closer to my birth mother in this time, ending up using her journal to create needed salves and philiters to heal the injured. I even ended up using my expirence as a merchant to help establish some basic trade relations to bring supplies into the reclaimed capital. Ended up also getting myself a little apartment to stay in, but my curiosity could only be ignored for so long. It was just in my nature to unravel a mystery, and the secrets of the Echo was one big mystery.

Current W'stella Nezha, awakened to the Echo

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